Jyn considered herself well prepared for anything that the Rebellion could require of her. She could pick pockets, rifle through desks, shoot a blaster, bash a ‘trooper’s head in with a truncheon, run for safety, cover her partners’ backs, and man the guns as Bodhi got them away.
However, this was a new one.
“I don’t dance,” she said flatly.
“You’ll have to,” Cassian told her. “This is a fancy party, there will be dancing.”
“Why can’t I hang around the edge of the floor eating darveen patties?” That she could handle.
“Because on the dance floor, we’ll be able to monitor the room much more successfully. And if our mark asks you to dance, you’ll be that much more able to pick his pocket.”
“Why don’t you dance with him?”
“Because he’s not interested in men.”
“Have you seen you? I bet you could make him interested.”
“Stop trying to get out of it,” he said, lips twitching. “Accept your fate, Jyn Erso. You’re learning to dance for this mission.”