#sorry for the poor quality of the images btw -- rogue one hadn't come out on blu-ray yet when i made this photoset

[phosphorescent-naidheachd]

It’s a long-term undercover assignment and Cassian Andor hates it.

Hates pretending to be everything he stands against. Hates acting as a genuine bystander and co-conspirator in the service of that pretense. Hates that there is no respite from his role and that there is no end in sight.

For the Rebellion, he reminds himself as he pulls on the skin of Joreth Sward every morning along with an Imperial Navy uniform. For the Rebellion.

For the Rebellion.

It’s his heartbeat, that phrase. His unremitting battlecry.

For the Rebellion.

And despite his hatred for this assignment -- despite the nightmares that leave him shaking as he retches over the fresher toilet -- Cassian perseveres day after day.

When he attends a series of odupiendo races with a few of his fellow aides, he observes that one man appears to be regularly racking in the credits. To win that many bets that frequently takes ridiculous luck, insider information, and/or a discerning eye for speed and tactics; no matter which combination it is, he’s the sort of person that could prove useful for Cassian.

“Who’s that?” he asks the woman next to him.

“One of the cargo pilots,” she says dismissively.

Though he doesn’t show it to her, his interest level promptly doubles. Cargo pilots travel all over between bases and, as they are deemed too lowly to be worthy of notice, overhear all sorts of information.

So when he unobtrusively makes his way over to the pilot -- Rook -- later in the day, taps him on the shoulder, and says, “I hear you’re the one to talk to about setting up bets on these races”, he does so with the intention of cultivating an unwitting information source, nothing more.

Then Rook turns around, wisps of dark hair coming loose from his queue to fall over a set of incredible cheekbones.

Mierda.

Fine, so the man is attractive. Nothing has changed -- he’s still an Imperial. He’s still the enemy.

...only Rook has to go and be terribly likable, doesn’t he? He’s prickly and guarded, yes, but he still manages to be charming and to come across as disarmingly earnest. The man is a mass of contradictions wrapped up in a quicksilver mind and an intense pair of eyes. And those lips...

No one should look that good and be so interesting, damn it.

The more time goes on, the more Cassian gets to know Bodhi... and the harder the entire situation gets. Bodhi’s trips to the base where Cassian-as-Joreth is stationed rapidly become the highlight of his week.

Purely professional, he reminds himself, and listens carefully to Bodhi’s idle gossip and observations.

But then Bodhi flashes him a smile, or mutters imprecations under his breath, or carefully talks about his childhood in Imperial occupied Ni’Jedha, and Cassian’s resolution is sorely tested.

Cassian hasn’t had this much difficulty remaining emotionally uninvolved while undercover since he was a green recruit.

The situation is made that much harder by the fact that every now and then, he thinks Bodhi might be not be entirely unsympathetic to the Rebel cause. Cassian recognizes that look Bodhi’s been wearing lately; he’s seen it many times before, on many different faces... usually right before he convinces the being wearing it to turn informant. Bodhi is wavering right on the cusp of that elusive something... but does he dare to take advantage of it? 

There are so many ways that this could go wrong, after all... and Cassian doesn’t want to have to kill Bodhi. 

(He would if he had to, but he thinks it might break him even more than he already is.)

Yet if he doesn’t take that chance, he may end up having to kill Bodhi anyway. As long as Bodhi is a loyal Imperial, the two of them remain on opposite sides of this war. 

And the Rebellion comes first. First, last, and always.

What he doesn’t realize, however, is that just because he hasn’t given Bodhi that final push doesn’t mean that no one else will...

Then, one day, Bodhi practically drags him onto his ship.

"Did you know?” Bodhi asks.

Cassian stares at him, perplexed. 

Bodhi’s hands are still tightly grasping the fabric of Cassian’s jacket, but they’ve begun to shake. He is so close that Cassian can smell the sweat and engine grease on him. Their position is oddly intimate, but he’s too worried to be much affected.

“Did you know that they’re creating a planet killer? I’ve... I’ve been transporting its fuel for months. ...Tell me you didn’t know.”

Bodhi’s voice is hoarse and desperate, his last sentence half-demand, half-plea.

It takes a moment for his words to process, but when they do...

“I didn’t know,” Cassian says, eyes widening in horror.

It’s not a lie; not really. He’d heard the whispers, of course, but nothing definitive. Nothing like this.

“...how do you know?” he asks after a moment has passed.

And the whole story comes pouring out -- the Imperial Kyber Refinery, the Death Star, an upcoming test of the superweapon’s abilities...

Bodhi is careful not to name his source, but Cassian isn’t a spy for nothing.

“Then I guess it’s up to us to do something about it,” he tells Bodhi.

Bodhi looks looks so relieved to hear this -- so grateful -- that he’s almost on the verge of tears.

“I don’t suppose your contact at the Refinery has any proof we could pass on to... interested parties?” Cassian asks.

Bodhi smiles tremulously, finally releasing Cassian, and dips a hand into his pocket to pull out a hologram chip, which he holds aloft.

Cassian smiles now too.

“It’s encoded,” Bodhi says. “I was told to take it to Saw Gerrera.”

“I,” Cassian says, “can do you one better than that. I’m afraid I haven’t been entirely truthful with you...”

AND THEN THEY FLY STRAIGHT TO THE REBEL BASE ON YAVIN FOUR AND NO ONE IS TORTURED AND THE COUNCIL LISTENS TO THEM AND THEY DESTROY THE DEATH STAR AND THE TWO OF THEM KISS. 

THE END.