Searching through K2SO’s memory…
Locating memory
File Name: Good Friend.
Tag: Cassian Andor
Does anyone else get a lot of feels about Cassian as a child throwing rocks and bottles at Republic tanks and soldiers? His father peacefully protested the Republic’s militarism and look what they did to him. Can you imagine that angry, hurt child flinging rocks because he had nothing else, maybe delivering messages and carrying supplies for the Separatists because he could hide better in the rubble and was less suspicious than a grownup or older kid?
In our world children have been shot for throwing rocks at occupying forces. Did Cassian watch kids, kids he knew from his neighborhood being killed? Did he run away and hide, too scared to even cry, still clutching his rock and wishing it were a blaster, or a bomb?
By the time he was seven the Clone Wars ended and the Republic was replaced by the Empire. His enmity simply transferred to the Empire, a logical if extreme continuation of what the Republic had become.
Yet even in the Rebellion it was the Senators who called the shots, the Senators who told him to get blood on his hands, grinding him down to be harder and sharper until he hardly felt like a person. Even the name was cruel; the Allience to Restore the Republic. To restore what? Repression and destruction, children dying in the streets? The Senators promised things would be different this time, but that’s what they promised the first time around.
Did he think about taking up arms against the Republic, too, giving them more than rocks and bottles if the Alliance won and the demands of the downtrodden were not met? Did he think to live that long?
Perhaps his victory lay in this small, hard fact: The Senators might have had his life, but his death was his own. It wasn’t some Senator or General who told him to go to Scarif, he went against direct orders for the conscience he found still beating in him, for the wisp of a hope that he could protect other children from the fires of annihilation.
So Cassian Jeron Andor went to Scarif a free man, though freedom demanded an unfairly high price. He had known that already, though, from the moment his father’s lifeless body came home. Freedom was a mean, demanding bitch and he reached out and grasped her with both hands. He died in that embrace; it was all the choice he had in a broken universe.
#46, Cassian/K2SO
46. “Hey, have you seen the..? Oh.”
“Yes,” K-2 says, dryly. “Oh indeed.”
“That is not a one-man monitoring station,” Cassian says, unnecessarily.
“Perhaps they meant one man in a more universal sense,” K-2 says. “We are all one under the glorious Empire and, joined together in our fundamental unity, we will create a very large rocket launcher.”
“I was thinking it looks more like some sort of laser,” Cassian says.
“Having records of over 250 varieties of laser and energy-based weapons systems recorded, I can assure you that you are spectacularly incorrect and now I’m a little concerned about your understanding of basic weaponry and engineering.”
Cassian frowns over at him, then down at his comparatively tiny blaster and frankly embarrassing knives. From their position on the cliff top the stormtroopers below look like toys, but he knows from bloody and painful experience that he and K-2 cannot take on an entire battalion on their own.
“Well,” says K-2. “I’ve taken as many scans and images as I can. Are we going back to the ship or do you have a moderately suicidal spontaneous plan that I’ll need to talk you out of first?”
Cassian studies the layout of the compound, marking possible points of entry on his mental map. “Give me a minute.”
“No,” says K-2. “Absolutely not.”
“We’re already here,” Cassian argues. “We can’t come back empty-handed.”
“We absolutely can, actually.”
Cassian huffs out a breath. “I remember a time when I was in charge of this team. Where my decisions were final.”
“Human memory is a strange thing,” K-2 says cheerfully. “Creating false memories for comfort isn’t that uncommon.” And then, “Can you really call it being in charge of a team if there’s only two of us?”
“Ok,” says Cassian, ignoring the jibe like the mature adult he is. “I’ll compromise with you.”
“Oh no,” K-2 says, and actually takes a step back.
Cassian grins sharply, and kicks gently at the loose shale at the edge of the cliff. “How much explosive did you bring?”
“More than you,” K-2 says.
“Great,” says Cassian. “How do we feel about landslides?”
@dasakuryo requested Cassian + trying to walk on ice.
Frigid air seeps through his parka. After this many hours his carefully selected layers are as useful as scrap flimsi. He bites back a shiver, muscles tensing. He’s tempted to flex his fingers, coax blood back into them, but he’s afraid even the slightest movement will cost him everything.
Then, suddenly; his goal, his target, is within reach.
Gaze steady, breath measured, his world shrinks to a pinprick of focus.
He pulls the trigger.
The body falls with a thud into fresh snow, sending a puff of flakes up into the night air. Cassian slides off the roof, scampering down the stairs; and is already dashing down the icy walkways by the time he hears the first sirens.
4 or 9 or 32 – bassian 🙏
I did 32 with rebelcaptain already! Also I’m feeling generous (or ambitious lol) so I’m going to do both 4 and 9 😀 (also I’m assuming this is from the most recent prompt list I reblogged which was a while ago now oops)
*throws sniperpilot on a mission together* you’re welcome
“There you are,” Bodhi hisses. “What took you so long?”
“I realize I make this look easy, but this whole espionage thing isn’t a walk in the park,” Cassian replies with a grunt.
Bodhi grumbles something about cramping from hiding in the bushes so long. Cassian pats him on the shoulder. “You can complain when we’re back on the ship.”
Bodhi nods, putting away his network scrambling gear. “Yeah, I think they’re going to notice your disappearance pretty soon.”
“I hope not,” Cassian mutters as they trudge back in the direction of the ship.
Bodhi leads the way, and Cassian can’t help but notice something stuck in Bodhi’s hair, fluttering about in the wind.
“Bodhi,” he calls.
“Yeah?” Bodhi doesn’t turn to look at him, and keeps moving towards the ship waiting for them on the platform.
“There’s a leaf in your hair.”
“Oh.” Bodhi stops and swats at his hair. “Is it gone?”
“Nope.”
Bodhi drops the bag of gadgets with a thunk beside the ship’s loading ramp, and tugs at his hair elastic, letting his hair go loose. He runs a hand through it, attempting to shake off the offending leaf. Cassian watches him, mystified.
“Is it gone now?”
Cassian snaps out of his reverie. “Uh, nope.” He moves to pull the leaf out but Bodhi’s hair but he keeps shaking it to no prevail.
“Will you just hold still?” Cassian says sternly. Bodhi lets his hands drop to his sides. “Now turn around.” Bodhi didn’t really need to turn around, but Cassian was on a mission and he couldn’t let himself get distracted by Bodhi’s face.
He gently disentangles the leaf from Bodhi’s hair, trying not to let his hands linger too long. He does pause longer than he needs to before speaking, trying to get his nerves back in working order. He’s so close!
“There,” he says, showing the leaf to Bodhi before flicking it away.
“Thanks.” Bodhi begins to gather his hair up in a ponytail and Cassian has to force himself to turn away, almost missing the sounds of people headed in their direction.
“We’ve got company!”
Bodhi looks up, swears, and bolts towards the cockpit. “I’ll get ready for takeoff, keep me covered for one minute!”
Cassian sighs, pulling out his blaster. He’d have to leave the daydreams for later. Duty calls.
sniperpilot, 19 (and in case you’re in the mood for one more: 10)
ah you always love picking ones where I can Up the Angst 😀 Here’s 19! 🙂
I feel like I havent written from Bodhi’s perspective in a while…
“Are you avoiding me?”
Cassian corners Bodhi when he’s about to leave the dining hall, eyes full of an emotion that locks Bodhi in place, but also grabbing his arm to keep him there.
“Ummm… no?” Bodhi shakes his head, convincing himself more than Cassian. “No. Not at all. Why would I be running away from you?”
Cassian’s expression shifts to grim skepticism. “Really? So you weren’t trying to dart away just now.”
Bodhi begins to shake his head, then sighs. “I don’t want to do this here, not now, Cass.” He mentally pleads with Cassian, and feels him let go of his arm. He doesn’t take his arm back, a twinge of guilt fluttering at the base of his stomach.
“Will you just tell me the truth?” Cassian’s face lacks the emotion it had earlier, but there’s something in his voice that threatens to break Bodhi’s resolve. Hurt. Disappointment.
Why was he doing this? Bodhi wasn’t sure. Maybe it was the second looks they’d been getting. Are getting. Anxiety barges into his heart like an unwelcome guest. He has a choice to make. Stay and talk to Cassian, and feel the many eyes boring into the back of his head, or walk away and be weighted with guilt.
Bodhi’s hands are trembling again. He can feel it, but can’t do anything to stop them. Cassian’s eyes drop from his face to his hands, and his gaze softens as he grips them.
This is what Bodhi was running away from. That look. That concern. He didn’t want to be a burden, bursting into Cassian’s room late at night, haunted by traumas; letting his name and reputation become entangled with Bodhi’s; subjecting him to the same taunting eyes that dug into Bodhi like daggers (captain andor? with an imperial?…)
“Bodhi. Bodhi!” He snaps out of his thoughts. Concern is written all over Cassian’s face. “I’m sorry. You need time. You need to be away from me. I’m sorry, I should’ve realized that earlier.” Cassian moves to let go of Bodhi’s hands but Bodhi clenches them tighter, closer.
Bodhi’s shaking his head, for real this time. “N-no. It was my mistake. I didn’t want to bother you. Distract you. But I think-I think it’s doing us more harm than good.”
He can see Cassian visibly swallowing a sarcastic retort (you THINK?) and he almost grins, because snarkiness was a trait he’d picked up from Bodhi. Instead Cassian squeezes Bodhi’s hands and says, “Okay. But take your time.”
“I already have,” he replies. Cassian smiles at him and daggers’ edges begin to dull.
34. Returned from the dead kiss (Cassian comes back to Hoth from a month long undercover mission only to find out that Jyn was KIA during a Pathfinder mission…)
He comes down off the ship, jacket still snug around his body, when he sees Bodhi. It’s normally Jyn that greets him, always Jyn, except when she’s on a mission, which isn’t that surprising, given that the Pathfinders seem to always be on the go. He had wanted to see her, of course, had missed her, but Jyn being away… he had waited a month to see her. He could wait a few more days until she returned.
Bodhi’s face, though, it says something else. A bubble of fear settles into the pit of Cassian’s stomach, and he realizes he might be waiting a bit longer than that.
He wants to turn and run, return to his ship, because on his ship, Jyn had been waiting for him just outside, and he was going to once again try to work up the courage to tell her how he felt, and now… now everything is in turmoil.
“Bodhi…” he says, and the pilot doesn’t even look at him, just down at his hands, where he’s pulling on a rag, one he had just been using.
“Cassian, it’s Jyn, she-”
The way that Bodhi’s shoulders are shifted forward, how his face is scrunched up, how he’s unable to talk… it says it all. Others in the hanger, they’re looking at him, looking at him with pity, with sorrow, with…
Rebellions are built on hope 