Let him grow taller, she asked the gods. Let him know sixteen, and twenty, and fifty. Let him grow as tall as his father, and hold his own sons in arms. Please, please, please. As she watched him, this tall young man with the new beard and the direwolf prowling at his heels, all she could see was the babe they had laid at her breast at Riverrun, so long ago.
ROGUE ONE NOVEL EDITS → He would fight alongside them because Jyn Erso had accepted them into her own revolution—not the revolution of the Alliance, but one that had risen from the ashes of the Holy City to bring retribution where resurrection was impossible.
He trusted Jyn’s fury and her fire. Most of all—though he was loath to admit it—he trusted Jyn because of Chirrut Îmwe. Those whom Chirrut trusted, Baze could find a reason to trust as well.
Life was more convenient that way. Even Baze found eternal wariness exhausting.