Scarif survivor AU

[imthepilot]

Bodhi lingered after the briefing, hands behind his back in that stance that had become habit. The stance that hid his prosthetics arm from view. Not that anyone stared any more but some habits were hard to break.

“General Rook?” Mon Mothma didn’t need to look up to know it was him, tidying up the data chips as the rest of the briefing room emptied. “You're wondering why I didn’t assign you to the Endor strike.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He found it strangely comforting, the way she always knew. So, he never needed to ask.

“I have another mission for you and your team.” She gestured him to follow, leading him into a private antechamber. Her expression turned serious as she touches the little data-chip containing the information the Bothans had paid so dearly for. “There was a second message, from an imperial informant.” Her expression tightened, suppressing some deep emotion behind her stateman’s mast.

She pulled up a star map, gesturing to a gas giant orbiting a single star adjustment to Endor’s binary system. “According to this informant, there is an imperial research and development station in the Moddell sector. It’s being used to hold a group of scientists and weapons specialists. Against their will.”

“And you believe this information is credible.” Bodhi asked, his braided hair falling over his shoulder as he leaned in to look at the small speck in the map.

“I do. Yes.”

There was something about her voice, the tamped down strain that made him look at her. There was so much in her eyes, in the tightness of her lips. So much unsaid.

“Your mission, General Rook, is to retrieve the scientists and, our informant. Alive, if at all possible. And then destroy the facility.”

Bodhi nodded slowly, considering. “I’ll need an imperial craft.”

“You’ll have it.” She answered, a little faster than necessary. “A second shuttle has been set aside for this mission. Select your team and brief only those you need to. This mission is of the upmost importance. The Emperor has built a second Death Star. Even if we fail to destroy him, there must never be a third.”

Bodhi accepted the dossiers she had prepared him on the informant. “You have my word.”

He didn’t open the file till he was perched in the pilot’s seat as the other members of Rogue Squad, all Scarif survivors, loaded up. It wasn’t till then he saw the face of the Imperial informant. A holo of a woman, candid and some years out of date. Not a mugshot or a service record scan but the sort of holo someone might carry on their person. A holo of a loved one.

The medic who had saved his life on Eadu. And whose name he now learnt was Rochin. Rochin Mothma.

That was why the commander had such faith in the message.

***

They moved down the corridor at an easy trot, covering doorways and each other as they moved further into the facility.

Getting in had been easy. Easier than it should have been. The facility seemed to be manned by a skeleton crew while the rest of the garrison was elsewhere. On the Death Star perhaps. Or down on the forest moon. Bodhi send up a quiet prayer to the Force for the Princess and Luke’s safety. He’d gotten to know and like them both well. Even if he didn’t have much love for General Solo.

“Cover me.” He called to Melshi as he crossed to the last of the detention block controls. He had to step over a dead trooper, the smell of burnt duroplastic and flesh filling his nostrils. He would suffer for that later. For all of it. He wasn’t past the nightmares, that had become almost a familiar occurrence. Part of the fabric of his scars. But his hands no-longer shook during the fight. Only after.

He gave a triumphant ha as the door locks slammed back, echoingly loud. “Sefla, clear the cells to the left. I’ll take the right. Pao, keep the engines hot, we’re coming your way.”

He shouldered the rifle, concealing a stunner in his flesh and blood palm, just in case this one didn’t want to be rescued. Some of the scientists they’d pulled from other cells were frightened, erratic. Some were so badly mistreated they’d tried to fight off their rescues. And a desperate man could be stronger than he looked. As Bodhi’s blooming black eye could attest.

He opened the door with care, shifting his stance in readiness.

And stopped dead.

Comments

[imthepilot]

"You!" The man spat, turning in Bodhi and Galen. He holds the hissing blade closer to the medic's neck. "Traitors, both of you! All those people up there died because of you!"

Rochin flinches, staining her neck to keep away from the blade.

Bodhi assessed the situation with stillness he'd never had before Scarif. A calculating coldness. "Madam Senator, I have your permission?" He doesn't raise his voice and yet it carries clearly. A command voice.

Mon Mothma nods, her regal bearing just as firm and still. "As always, General Rook, at your discretion." She turned her back in the scene. On her endangered ex-wife as if it meant nothing to her.

Her casual dismissal infuriates the attacker, enough to make him focus on her.

Giving Bodhi the fraction of a second he needs to draw his blaster.

Without a moment's hesitation, he fires.

Shooting Rochin in the middle of the chest.

The medic jerks sideways, suddenly becoming a dead-weight in the man's grip. It gives Bodhi the clear line he needs. Toggling the blaster from stun to kill as he brings it up, he shoots the scientist in the head.

[galen_erso]

"The rest of you had better be sensible, esteemed colleagues," Galen says peaceably, almost apologetically. Yes, there had been people on both Death Stars. No, not all of them had chosen to be there. Yes, some of them had been cleaners and cantina staff and nurses. But still, they were part of the Empire.

[imthepilot]

Those who had taken up arms drop them in a hurry, suitability cowed. Bodhi directs his men to confine those involved to their quarters and heads over to check on the medic.

Rochin is coming to as Bodhi stands over her. She rubs her chest and looks up at him, annoyed. "In the chest? Really?"

"You're welcome, Dr Mothma." Bodhi answers dryly, helping her to her feet. He glances over to see the senator standing in the doorway again, nodding at her summons.

He glances at Galen. "Stay with her." He turns abruptly and walks over to join Mon Mothma without another word.

"So," Rochin mutters, still rubbing her chest. "Your reunion is going as well as mine then?"

[galen_erso]

"He didn't have me shot by a team member yet," Galen says with a little smile. "And he took me for a walk and a climb. But he's changed a lot, not just the arm. Unerring, professional, commanding. He's a general now -- my sweet shy pilot! We will need time, but I'm sure we will get there."

He hopes.

"Can I help you in any way? Caf? Alcohol? Things to throw at people?"

[imthepilot]

"I noticed the arm." Her professional curiosity itches to have a closer look at that. "Did he tell you what happened?"

She leans on him a little to get to a bench. "Yeah, Mon's changed too. But not as much as that. She's still an uncompromising-" she cuts herself off before finishing the sentence.

She chuckles at that. "Yes please, hell yes, and as long as it's something heavy and sharp." She answers. "But I'd settle for some ice." There was a red patch on the side of her neck from the blade's corona.

[galen_erso]

"You just wait here," Galen says, settling her on that bench.

He quickly returns with a tray that contains a bowl if ice, a large mug of caf, a.bottle of Alderaan ale -- still known as that, even though there was no more Alderaan -- and a basket of small sporks.

"Anything missing?"

[imthepilot]

She wraps the ice in a cloth and presses it to her neck. She glances towards the door before accepting the beer. And draining it a little too fast.

Okay, maybe she needed that drink more than she knew.

"All we're missing now are our significant others. If they're still that." She mutters, a little bitterly.

[galen_erso]

"Bodhi has nobody else, he assured me, rather angrily," Galen says. "But I don't know if he still has me, either."

Pause.

"Where did you meet her?"

[imthepilot]

"Do you want him to have you?" She asks quietly.

She shakes her head. "A long time ago and far, far away." She isn't ready to talk about that. "I'm just amazed she accepted my intel and came for us."

[galen_erso]

"I want him to have me, unconditionally, and then get used to that new Bodhi, the general," Galen says, immediately, without a shadow of doubt. "And she knows you are good people, no matter what else the state if your relationship. That doesn't change.'

[imthepilot]

She chuckles and shakes her head, sipping the caf. "You, Galen Erso, are a better being than I am. But you don't know Mon like I do. She's not- Bodhi."

[galen_erso]

"You haven't seen her far longer," Galen points out. "You can't known what she is like now. I don't know what being Bodhi entails these days, so the definition of not-Bodhi is wide open. We will all have to find out with time."

[imthepilot]

She bumps her shoulder against his. "Stop talking sense, Erso." She smiles. "The whole galaxy changed today. On a personal level as well as politically. Give me a moment to be wallow. Please?"

[galen_erso]

"Wallow," Galen says. "Go ahead. I'll get myself a beer to wallow with you and drink to whatever Mon and Bodhi have become. We'll see."

[imthepilot]

"Good." She nods. "I like the sound of that. Grab me another while you're at it. We need to get good and drunk to wallow properly." She gestures towards the door. "They are important people now. Let them be important. You and I, we're just us now. We need to toast whatever we've become too."

She's a little in shock and coping the best way she can.

[galen_erso]

Galen gets up and gets each of them another beer, and a bowl of spicy nuts which he barely saves from a bunch of celebrating mechanics.

"They will want thi gs from us, and I already offered. Neither of us is cargo for this rebellion. Republic. Whatever."

[imthepilot]

"Cargo." She chuckles. "Sure about that? We've both got skills, sure but- what are they going to want from us? I'm good at fixing what's broken and you're good at building things that break people."

She takes a long draft of the beer, ignoring the celebrations happening around them. "Am I wallowing too deep?"

[galen_erso]

"People will still get broken," Galen says. "You are always needed. And they will always need energy as well -- to break things and to build things, too."

[imthepilot]

"What did I tell you about talking sense, Erso?" Rochin downed her second beer, standing shakily. The alcohol had gone to her head very fast. "You're just to damn good" She all but spat, staggering back.

Bodhi caught her, his expression unreadable. "And you're drunk, Dr Mothma." He put an arm around her waist. "Let me escort you to your room."

He glances to Galen for an extra hand to walk the medic out before there's trouble.

[galen_erso]

"Everybody is getting drunk, so I hope nobody gets offended," Galen says, smiling at Bodhi as he gets up to help.

Bodhi looks sober, though.

[imthepilot]

Very sober. And rather sombre. He nods his thanks as they man-handle the medic down a hall to a surprisingly pleasant room. Delta Base isn't a barracks, like other bases are. And if it is, there are more officer's quarters.

Bodhi lays her down, taking off her shoes with quiet efficiency.

She drunkenly pats his shoulder, causing that little finch again. "You better deserve him, Rook. He's worth more than both of us. He's a good man."

Bodhi glances over his shoulder to Galen, eyes dark and deep.

[galen_erso]

Galen does something he has hardly ever done, before now. He blushes, then smiles lopsidedly and awkwardly at Bodhi.

[imthepilot]

"I'll do my best." He answers, still looking at Galen. It takes him a long, long time to break that eye contact.

When he does, he tucks her in and sets a glass of water within reach.

He takes Galen's hand as he exits the room, drawing him towards another room someway up the corridor.

He walks with determination, still holding Galen's hand and doesn't looking askance at the other rebels who cross their path on the way.

[galen_erso]

Galen follows, trying not to painfully cling to Bodhi's hand even as his instinct is to never let go of him ever again.

Walking down that corridor with him, no matter who sees them. The New Republic so very much isn't the Empire.

[imthepilot]

Bodhi draws him into another room, more austere than the last. The room is large enough with a picture window out into the forest but everything else about ii is simple, practical, without adornment. The only personal item is a kit bag at the end of the pre-made bed.

Bodhi closes the door behind them so carefully it makes no sound.

"I don't know how to do this." He confesses in an achingly soft whisper.