wintersday (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
wintersday) wrote2022-11-13 09:33 pm
wintersday) wrote2022-11-13 09:33 pm
Entry tags:
- character: star wars: bodhi,
- character: star wars: cassian,
- character: star wars: jyn,
- character: star wars: k-2so,
- fandom: star wars: rogue one,
- fanfic,
- fanfic: length: under 1k,
- fanfic: rating: teen,
- fanfic: type: gen,
- format: drabble sequence,
- trope: au - everybody lives,
- trope: fix-it,
- trope: friendship,
- trope: rescue
Fic: A Confluence
Title: A Confluence
Fandom: Rogue One
Major Characters/Pairings: Jin, Bodhi, Cassian, K-2SO
Wordcount: 400 words
Rating: Teen
POV: Third person
Summary: Prompt: what if they'd been captured instead of killed after transmitting the plans, and brought to the Death Star for interrogation?
Notes: Originally written as a giftfic for Soryenn on AO3.
Jyn’s in a white room. Bare walls. A single cot.
Keep your head down, the old survival programming warns, though she won’t survive, or only long enough for pain.
They took the kyber crystal, but its memory is impressed on her skin. She doesn’t believe in – anything – but through the needles, through the drugs, something tells her, live, endure, wait.
In her mind, she maps the cell: walls, door, circuitry. Locking mechanism. It’s almost tangible. She could almost reach through the air –
Footsteps outside. Blaster fire. She closes her hand around the crystal’s resonant absence, and something tells her, now.
Bodhi’s here again, in this regimented, white-lit place. The only difference is, he’s on the wrong side of the prison door.
No. He was on the wrong side before. Whatever does or doesn’t change, however his life ends, he’s not forgetting that.
When the prison door finally opens, his first, stupid thought is they’ve changed the stormtrooper height requirements. Then the trooper removes his helmet, and it’s only a boy beneath, with tousled hair. He holds out a hand, helps Bodhi to his feet.
“I’m here for the Princess,” he says, “but we need all the help we can get.”
We won, Cassian tells himself. His last mission was his last success. What happens after doesn’t matter.
Still, there’s an elegant, personalized cruelty in the droid they send to march him to execution: blank, polished, moving with Imperial precision. This was always K-2’s greatest fear. The cuffs on Cassian’s arms, the blaster barrel jabbing his back, are irrelevant beside that.
At an intersection of hallways, battle spills over them. A prison break – Jyn, Bodhi. Princess Organa. Strangers. Not dead yet, but barely surviving. Then K-2 fires, too fast for Cassian to intervene.
One by one, it’s the Imperials who fall.
Then it’s chaos, and the nervy stillness of the comedown after. A rescue attempt, but not for them.
“A confluence,” Chirrut says, and the smuggler who got them out says, “Too many blasted people packed onto my ship.”
Jyn doesn’t like him, but he’s right. There’s no room here for privacy, just a warm, close space. She’s used to it. What she’s not used to is sharing it with people she – doesn’t hate?
Bodhi’s sleeping, heavy on her shoulder. Even safe, Cassian stays vigilant, a habit she understands. She breathes easily in their presence.
Doesn’t hate will do for now.
Fandom: Rogue One
Major Characters/Pairings: Jin, Bodhi, Cassian, K-2SO
Wordcount: 400 words
Rating: Teen
POV: Third person
Summary: Prompt: what if they'd been captured instead of killed after transmitting the plans, and brought to the Death Star for interrogation?
Notes: Originally written as a giftfic for Soryenn on AO3.
Jyn’s in a white room. Bare walls. A single cot.
Keep your head down, the old survival programming warns, though she won’t survive, or only long enough for pain.
They took the kyber crystal, but its memory is impressed on her skin. She doesn’t believe in – anything – but through the needles, through the drugs, something tells her, live, endure, wait.
In her mind, she maps the cell: walls, door, circuitry. Locking mechanism. It’s almost tangible. She could almost reach through the air –
Footsteps outside. Blaster fire. She closes her hand around the crystal’s resonant absence, and something tells her, now.
Bodhi’s here again, in this regimented, white-lit place. The only difference is, he’s on the wrong side of the prison door.
No. He was on the wrong side before. Whatever does or doesn’t change, however his life ends, he’s not forgetting that.
When the prison door finally opens, his first, stupid thought is they’ve changed the stormtrooper height requirements. Then the trooper removes his helmet, and it’s only a boy beneath, with tousled hair. He holds out a hand, helps Bodhi to his feet.
“I’m here for the Princess,” he says, “but we need all the help we can get.”
We won, Cassian tells himself. His last mission was his last success. What happens after doesn’t matter.
Still, there’s an elegant, personalized cruelty in the droid they send to march him to execution: blank, polished, moving with Imperial precision. This was always K-2’s greatest fear. The cuffs on Cassian’s arms, the blaster barrel jabbing his back, are irrelevant beside that.
At an intersection of hallways, battle spills over them. A prison break – Jyn, Bodhi. Princess Organa. Strangers. Not dead yet, but barely surviving. Then K-2 fires, too fast for Cassian to intervene.
One by one, it’s the Imperials who fall.
Then it’s chaos, and the nervy stillness of the comedown after. A rescue attempt, but not for them.
“A confluence,” Chirrut says, and the smuggler who got them out says, “Too many blasted people packed onto my ship.”
Jyn doesn’t like him, but he’s right. There’s no room here for privacy, just a warm, close space. She’s used to it. What she’s not used to is sharing it with people she – doesn’t hate?
Bodhi’s sleeping, heavy on her shoulder. Even safe, Cassian stays vigilant, a habit she understands. She breathes easily in their presence.
Doesn’t hate will do for now.