(no subject)

[imthepilot]

Bodhi knew he’d lost the argument as soon as he lost his temper. But this pompous arse of a scientist was pushing all his buttons, all at once. It wasn’t Bodhi’s fault the what-ever-the-hell-it-was machine was broken. He hadn’t packed it. Hell, when he picked it up on Spindrift, the box was sitting upside under a pile of other equipment.

And yes, it’s late. It came halfway around the galaxy! Even in hyperspace, travel still takes time! And the what-ever-the-hell-it-was was not the only cargo Bodhi had to pick up. The Empire doesn’t pay him for half empty hauls.

And of course the crate was wet! It’s bloody Eadu! Everything’s wet here. If the scientist had collected it when Bodhi signalled he was coming in, he could have unloaded it with the covered lifter with everything else. But oh no! This one had to be signed for! And this guy was too important not to make a mere cargo pilot wait.

Tired, wet and fed up with being yelled at, Bodhi lost his temper.

Now he and the scientist were standing toe to toe, screaming at each other.

“My superior will hear of this!” the man snorted imperiously. “You just wait and see! You’ll never be allowed this route again!”

As if an order to fly that unwieldly space turtle of a ship through these storms was a privilege he should be grateful for.

Only Bodhi was grateful; grateful not to be hauling kyber from Jeddah. He hadn’t been back in nearly six years and he was fine with that. Looking back hurt. Best not to look.

“Fine with me! I did my job!” Bodhi growled back, tossing the water out of his hair like a dog. “Tell your superior! I’m here. I’ll wait!”

Because what else was he going to do? He was tired, wet, fed up and now stuck. The delay had cost him too much time. The take-off and landing window for the moon’s orbit was past. He’d have to wait out the seven hour night of Eadu Prime’s planetary shadow or get docked for wasting a full tank of fuel just to break orbit. Either way, he was parked here overnight.

He stalked back into the ship, pulling up the cargo door and shaking off his mostly-but-not-enough-for-this-place water proof jacket. If this superior wanted to yell at Bodhi, he could come down here and find him. In the meantime, Bodhi was going to get dry and cook himself a meal.

Most Imperial facilities like this had a pilot’s mess and bunk room, for exactly situations like this but Bodhi preferred not to use them. They always smelt of socks and stale farts. And the kitchen would be filthy. There weren’t many things Bodhi could do well – fly, keep up to date with imperial regs, and cook.

Finally dry and warm, he starts in on making dinner.

Comments

[galen_erso]

As he is cooking, a scruffy man approaches the ship, wrapped in a ratty coat against the weather.

[imthepilot]

Bodhi looks up from his pot, testing his seasoning. The man doesn't look like a scientist, let alone a head scientist. "Close the door! Everything's so wet." He can deal with the cold, Jedha could get unbelievingly cold but at least it was dry.

He looks the man over, frowning. "Are you lost?"

[galen_erso]

"I don't think so," the man says. "If you're the Imperial pilot, which looks likely. May I come inside?"

[imthepilot]

"The Imperial pilot." The empathise comes with a resigned sigh as he puts down the spoon, turning off the heat. There's no point letting his meal burn while he's dealing this. He gestures the man in. "Yes, I'm the pilot."

[galen_erso]

The man comes inside and sniffs the air with a smile. "Real cooking!" he says. "People told me there was some kind of upset?"

[imthepilot]

He stands, taking a slow calming breath through his nose as he closes his hands behind his back in something close to attention.

"One of the facility's scientists. He got upset. The machine he ordered arrived damaged. I can show you the manifest, I noted the condition of the crate when I collected it. I didn't open it. The seals were undamaged."

He reports it in short busts, looking straight ahead rather than at the man.

[galen_erso]

"Why did you come all the way if you knew the crate was damaged?" the man asks mildly.

[imthepilot]

Again, that breath, trying to keep his temper down. "It was marked, not damaged." It almost comes out as a growl. "And it was one of three dozen crates I brought in this shipment."

"Look, I get the thing was delicate but I handled it the same way I handle everything I move. With. Care."

"I had no way to know it was damaged. If I had opened it at any time, I would have lost my commission." He looks at the man with a tired and angry look. "Look, I'm just doing my job."

[galen_erso]

"I see that," the man says. "And when you are done with it, you cook quite well."

The last is said as a compliment, not an accusation.

"Did you document the state of the cargo when you loaded it?"

[imthepilot]

He grabs a data pad and queues up the manifest with all the relevant notations. He's very thorough about keeping notes. It's an arse covering thing.

He hands the pad to Galen and goes back to stirring his stew. He leaves Galen to read it, fetching down two bowls from his little kitchenette cupboard.

The man keeps mentioning the food, he's clearly hungry.

[galen_erso]

The man takes quite some time reading the manifest and checking all the salient points.

"We really needed the equipment," he sighs.

[imthepilot]

"Find another one. I'll bring it on the next run. Or someone else will if you're firing me." He offers the man a bowl and sits down, not waiting to eat. It won't be as good cold.

The stew is thick and fragrant, the sort of warming stew you need on cold desert nights.

[galen_erso]

"Seems the thing is in the critical path," the man says, sitting down with his stew. "Thank you. What planet are you from?"

[imthepilot]

Bodhi dosn't answer at once, lingering over his stew a moment before getting up to add a pinch of some spice, stirring and tasting again.

"I don't know you. Not even your name. And you don't know me." He shakes his head. "Not a good place to start swapping life stories." He mutters a little hostility.

[galen_erso]

"I simply wanted to know where the recipe is from," the man says. "And my name is Galen Erso, chief researcher in this unpleasant hellhole."

[imthepilot]

"Bodhi Rook." He answers, taking another spoonful of stew, "The recipe is from Jedha, but the spices are from Trandosha." He shrugs. "I like the flavour, not as sharp and they age better."

[galen_erso]

"Jedha," Galen Enso says, perking up. "Guess it produces more than my er crystals and mysticism. Of course, even in the. Most mysterious places,people need dto eat."

[imthepilot]

Bodhi sniffs and shrugs, not meeting Galen's eyes. "More to a place than religion. Or what it's built on." There's a touch of defensiveness in his tone. "More to a city than what can be mined from it."

[galen_erso]

"Culture," Galen says. 'Colour. Mi D's and souls for whom all that is matters off course."

[imthepilot]

Bodhi cocks an eyebrow at him, trying to work out if he's being sarcastic. After all, isn't the kyber being stripped out of the city being brought here?

[galen_erso]

"The mineral resources must have been a bane for your world," Galennsays. "I know that. And I am still grateful for the culture which created this recipe. Tell me, Mr. Rook, what is the best thing about your ho e world, for you?"

[imthepilot]

"It's not my home." Bodhi stands, scraping the last spoonful from his bowl and setting it down by the fresher to wash. "It's just where I grew up."

He keeps his back to Galen as he cleans up, his little cooktop folding away now that it's cooled.

He still as his back to Galen as he answers. "People expect Jedha to be hot. It's not. Deserts don't have to be hot, just dry. Jedha is cold."

He turns to see if Galen is done. "When there's just enough moisture in the air, maybe once or twice a year, there will be frost. Dawn light, it look like diamonds."

[galen_erso]

Galen hands him back the bowl. 'Thank you," he says. "That was delicious."

He thinks for a moment. "I have seen cold deserts -- black gravel that will scour the paint off your craft if the wind comes strong enough from the wrong direction."

[imthepilot]

He nods. It was a good stew. Needed more of that floury root he picked up on the way. Good for thickening up the stock.

He thinks nothing of sharing a meal. It seems natural to him. You have food, you share it. An Jedha habit perhaps.

"Jedha's burnt red. The sun is cool but the ultraviolet is high. Burns everything red eventually. But I could imagine black. Like this place if it ever dried out. When was it?"

[galen_erso]

"I tried to live there for a while," Galen says. "I've lived in a lot of places, following the research."

He shrugs. There's a carelessness in his words that might hide some more persoknal meaning.