A/N: One of the reasons, aside from just liking the characters and wanting more of their interaction, for doing a fix-it story is that some of the deaths and actions that led to them didn't entirely make sense to me. For instance, that Chirrut walked out to activate the master switch wasn't surprising; that Baze called to him to come back, and that he did so without his chant for protection was. Throwing that switch didn't stop the death troopers from shooting at them, so there was no reason for him to think he could safely return to Baze's side. The smarter option would have been for him to take cover where he was, or at least for Baze to lay down some withering cover fire to protect him on the return transit.
The other problem is that what we see on the screen doesn't all make sense. Cassian falls because he was shot, but there is no evidence of a wound anywhere on him later when he aids Jyn and then they go to the beach. In rewatching his 'injury scene' (way too many times) and doing some research, I've realized what injuries he probably didn't have, if we go by what we saw (use of this legs, arms and hands – he's weak, but everything is essentially functioning). I am not a doctor or any kind of medical professional, but I'm convinced neither were the filmmakers (or they didn't want facts to interfere with their story). At any rate, anyone going off the rails to write an AU really does kind of have to make it up as they go, and it is up to them how and how much they try to make it realistic.
Also note that the exact timing of events is not fully known. The Internet is rife with guesses/approximations, but also arguments for/against each one. My end note will show you the timeline I am using for this story.
So, for good or ill, I'm going to rescue some of these folks.
Synergy
Chapter 1 Day 1
Bodhi's adrenalin was still pumping, making him even more jittery than usual. Until now, the most dangerous thing he had purposely done was defect and make it to Saw Gerrera. Stringing the connection to the ship so he could contact the Rebel fleet had involved far more than he had expected to do on this mission. But Cassian needed it done and he was the one best suited to the task. The others didn't know where the connections were located or what needed to happen to make communication possible through the shield.
Cassian. Jyn. The others. He'd been left to keep the ship at the ready for their escape after the plans were stolen, but judging by the fighting he was seeing and hearing outside, he wasn't sure anyone would be able to get back to the ship. And if they did, there were going to be a lot of injuries and wounds to treat. The medpac on the shuttle wouldn't go far.
Too antsy to sit still, and knowing it would take time for anyone to return, if anyone did, he knew where extra supplies were stored. Maybe he could add to their stock while he waited; there wasn't much more to do on the shuttle. He slipped quickly out the bottom hatch and faded in among the foliage and various crates stacked around his landing pad. Already the fighting action was starting to move away toward the next pad, and that would make this easier. Watching carefully for each opportunity, he worked slowly closer to the supply sheds.
He had just taken cover in his current position when a fiery explosion rent the air behind him. Instinctively, he ducked down and covered his head with his arms. Good thing, too, as burning debris began to fall. He had to pat out a couple of spots on his clothing that started to burn, and something crashed hard into his left arm, making it go numb with pain. For several minutes he sat gasping for breath, trying to fight back the wave of nausea. Slowly his vision and his head cleared and as the pain ebbed, he tentatively tried to move his fingers and other parts of his arm. He gasped again, nearly blacking out – his forearm. He didn't know much about medical matters, but he would guess his arm was broken.
Great, just great. They leave him to watch the ship and— The ship! Slowly he turned and rose enough to gaze back, only to see exactly what he feared – the shuttle was now a burning wreck. He didn't know what had hit it, but there was nothing left. He swallowed down the bile rising in his throat at the realization of how near he had come to dying in that explosion.
But what now? If anyone did survive this, they had no transport off the planet. Well, he was a pilot and he knew this base better than anyone else on the team did. Even if only for himself, it now fell to him to find another ship, another way out. Ruefully he admitted to himself that he wished K-2 were here to help, and tell him what to do. He was much better at following orders than figuring out what actions to take. He steeled himself – he had already stolen an Imperial shuttle once on Eadu. He could do this, with or without K-2 to help him.
One good thing, he supposed – the explosion had either killed many of the troopers or they had moved on to their next target. He tried not to think about how many rebels might also have been killed in the blast. He scurried quickly to the supply sheds, and used a blaster he had retrieved from a fallen stormtrooper to blast the locking mechanism. It surprised him that he managed to hit it, trying to aim with one hand, but his left hand was little use to him just now. Bacta. Everyone put bacta on injuries. He wasn't sure it would help a broken bone, but it was all he could think of. He used his teeth to help rip a couple of bandages open, then gingerly pushed up his sleeve to carefully wrap them around his forearm.
If nothing else, it was soothing on his arm, though the pain lingered. However, being uncertain what he could take for pain, he didn't dare try anything. Instead, he just loaded as much as he could carry into his satchel. There were also food ration bars and water skins, so he loaded several of those in as well. What now? He needed to find a ship, and a way to contact the others so they could rendezvous.
As he was about to stand, someone loomed over him before he was aware of them and could snatch up the blaster.
"Bodhi?"
Tonc! He had never been so glad to see anyone. The right side of the corporal's face was burned, and quickly Bodhi grabbed another bacta patch and helped Tonc put it over the burned area as much as possible. "Is there any burn salve?" Tonc asked, turning to look for himself. After several seconds of rooting through the supplies, he found a tube and smeared the gel on the parts of his face that the patch didn't cover. "Grab as many of these as you see," Tonc instructed, pointing to several items.
There were a couple of other satchels in the cabinet and Bodhi began loading them. With someone else to help carry them, this would be easier and he could take far more than he had planned. Meanwhile, Tonc was going through the supply cupboard, finally pulling out a couple of hypo-syringes. "Hold still," he instructed, injecting the contents into Bodhi's arm, then giving himself a shot. The pain eased considerably after just a few moments. Bodhi was relieved the other man had more knowledge of medical treatment than he did. "Thanks."
"Why's this stuff here, anyway?"
"Oh, the ships that come in sometimes don't have much chance to restock medpacs, so these are here to make that possible."
After a moment of hesitation, he asked, "You saw the shuttle explode?" Then he winced, realizing that was probably how Tonc was injured.
"Yeah, I saw. You know where we can find another one?"
"I..I think so. We'll go to the next pad over and I'll play injured Imperial shuttle pilot so we can commandeer it." He hesitated. "Do you think anyone can find us, get to us? Or that we can get to them?"
"Gotta try," Tonc said, gathering the satchels and slinging them over his shoulder. Seeing Bodhi struggling with the weight of the Imperial blaster and only one good arm, he reached over and took it. Tonc fashioned a sling for Bodhi's bad arm, then handed the man his own smaller weapon. "Use this one – it'll be easier for you. Lead the way."
They worked their way to the next pad as swiftly as Tonc deemed safe. The crew of the shuttle there was nowhere to be found. Bodhi suspected they had taken cover when the shooting started. In normal circumstances, he probably would have also. A quick check and he found the shuttle both operational and fueled. First hurdle cleared. Tonc secured the hold while he got the engines fired up. The only direction Bodhi knew to go was toward the Citadel Tower – he could be certain that was where Cassian and Jyn were. As to the others, they could be anywhere, so Tonc took up position next to him, scanning for anyone down but seemingly still alive. Most of the bodies littering the ground were too damaged to be likely candidates, but finally as they drew nearer to the bunker, Bodhi spotted something familiar. "There! Baze and Chirrut!"
There were still a couple of Death Troopers that had the pair pinned down, but Tonc took care of that with the shuttle's guns. Quickly Bodhi set down as Tonc ran to collect their companions. Both were injured, but alive. Chirrut had been caught on the edges of an explosion also and Baze carried him aboard. "Check Melshi," he instructed. "I think he's just unconscious." Tonc nodded and dashed out to pull the Sergeant aboard.
"Go!" Tonc called, closing the door behind him.
"What about Captain Andor and Jyn?" Baze asked, moving up to join them in the cockpit once he'd gotten Chirrut settled.
"We don't know," Bodhi admitted. "If they're still alive, they're somewhere near the tower."
"Wh..what is that?" Tonc stammered, pointing toward the sky, where something huge was beginning to materialize.
Both the other men looked up at the unpleasantly familiar sight and groaned. "Not again," Baze murmured.
"The Death Star," Bodhi said softly, causing Tonc's expression to morph with the same horror they were feeling.
"Better make this quick," Baze said.
"There!" Tonc exclaimed.
Baze and Bodhi's heads jerked around to look where the other man was pointing. Cassian and Jyn were staggering from the base of the tower, just as the Death Star solidified above them. "Hurry!" Bodhi said, setting down as close as he could to them.
Jyn had drawn her blaster at the sight of the unfamiliar shuttle, ready to defend the two of them, but then realized who it was and a grin split her face. As soon as they were on board, Baze and Jyn helped Cassian to the co-pilot's seat at his insistence. "Bodhi, get us out of here!"
Bodhi glanced over at Cassian, whose hands were dancing over the controls and then met his gaze. "No hyperdrive?"
Bodhi shook his head apologetically. "I think this is mostly just a land shuttle, for around the planet. It will go off-planet, but it won't go fast."
Cassian's jaw tightened. "Fine, give us as much speed as you can squeeze out of her, and let's put distance between us and here. If we are very, very lucky we can get outside the blast zone."
"Unless they target the entire planet," Bodhi murmured. Cassian glanced at him, but didn't respond, focusing on navigating away.
The blast from the Death Star was felt even inside the shuttle and at this distance from where it struck. The beam sheared off the top of the Citadel Tower.
"Distance?"
Bodhi checked his instruments. "37 kilometers."
"Come on!" Cassian hissed under his breath, shaking his controls, trying to move the ship faster with sheer willpower.
"52. 83."
Jyn appeared behind Cassian and injected him with something. Bodhi assumed it was probably a painkiller to help him function, and maybe antishock, considering how bad Cassian looked. He couldn't imagine how the man was even still conscious.
"120 kilometers."
Baze and Tonc hovered behind them, watching their progress along with Jyn, all five of them virtually holding their breath in the tense silence. Baze took to muttering Chirrut's mantra, "I am one with the Force and the Force is with me." Tonc glanced at him, but said nothing about it. When Bodhi looked over at Cassian, he saw Jyn standing behind him, her hand wrapped around that necklace she wore. If he had been a praying man, now would have been the time for it.
"147."
"How far is far enough?" Jyn asked softly.
"Who knows," Cassian said. "We get as far away as we can and hope for the best. Bodhi, are there other settlements on this planet?"
"I'm not sure. I only ever landed near the Citadel. I would assume there are, but…"
The shuttle began shaking violently as the main shockwave started to catch up to them, and Cassian had to wrestle with the controls to hold it steady. Then abruptly they lurched forward and the ride smoothed again. All of them looked at each other. "Did we make it?" Baze asked cautiously, not daring to hope.
When nothing else happened, Bodhi checked his scanners and grinned. "I..I think we did! Sensors show the disruption some two kilometers behind us. We're just outside the perimeter."
There was a collective sigh of relief, but now the next problem needed to be faced – survival. "Start looking for a reasonable place to land and set up camp," Cassian instructed. "Then we'll need to try to figure a way to contact the Alliance without drawing Imperial notice."
"Why did they destroy their own base?" Tonc questioned. "Didn't it have all of their structural archives there?"
Jyn shrugged. "I guess they thought the loss was preferable to any of the information falling into Alliance hands. I wonder how long it will take for them to realize that failed."
Cassian was slowly beginning to slump in his seat. Jyn reached out and caught his shoulder, holding him in place. "We need to find someplace – now. And tend to our wounded."
Bodhi nodded as he and Tonc watched for a likely spot. Much of the planet surface was spits of land stretching amid areas of water, and they needed something more substantial, with the cover of trees and foliage to somewhat hide their position from the air. They flew for another ten minutes before coming upon a likely spot. Bodhi circled it a couple of times, while Tonc studied it before finally nodding approval.
xxx
"TG-1243, remain here with the droid. They'll want to see if any data can be recovered from it about the Rebels."
"Yes, sir."
The rest of the group marched off, leaving TG-1243 standing alone. He shifted restlessly, then idly walked around the area noting the locked vault, damaged control board and many downed Imperial personnel. Had the droid been helping the Rebels? Holding off stormtroopers while they infiltrated the base? It was an Imperial droid – why would it do that? Could they have breached its systems that quickly and overridden the droid's protocols?
For all that he had always been intended to be a stormtrooper, TG-1243 had considerable interest in tech. The Empire wasn't much for allowing you to learn about things that interested you – you were meant to follow orders and learn what they wanted you to know. That had always chafed him, and so he had managed to study on his own in any of his off hours. His fellow troopers had given up arguing the pointlessness of it long ago. The techs in the repair shop were usually overworked, so they hadn't much cared if he wanted to spend his off hours helping out there. It took a long time, but eventually he got good at working on droids. Tech Warthen had said he had a natural bent for it. He just knew he enjoyed it.
He looked again at the fallen droid. If he got the droid's memory circuits functional, maybe someone would reward him by reassigning him to the tech department. Not likely, he knew, but at the very least, it would be less boring than just standing here until someone remembered to come back to give him further instructions, or commed him what they wanted him to do next.
He settled down on the deck next to the droid and rummaged in the toolkit on his belt. After a moment, he removed his helmet to see better, and slipped off the gloves – they were too awkward for such delicate work.
It took twenty minutes, but finally, the photoreceptors flickered and came back on line. The power cells hadn't been drained, but the blaster shots had severed the connection with the logic computer. Not knowing what the droid might do, he had been careful not to repair any wiring that would have permitted it to move.
The droid's head was fixed staring at him, unable to turn without a functioning body. Then its receptors registered his presence, and the vocabulator activated an instant later. "Where am I? What have you done to me?"
TG-1243 couldn't restrain a grin. And they wanted to waste him as a stormtrooper.
"You are on Scarif base. You were assisting Rebels in their assault on this facility and it was necessary that troopers disable you."
Processors whirred briefly examining this new information. "Who are you? If I've been disabled, why am I partially functional now?"
"I fixed you. Well, your logic computer, anyway. To get your body working again would take a lot of work, if it's even possible. You sustained heavy damage. Why were you helping the Rebels? You're an Imperial droid."
"I was an Imperial droid until I was reprogrammed. When Cassian found me, he overrode the Imperial protocols and gave me freedom."
TG-1243 snorted. "Freedom! For a droid? What kind of freedom would a droid have? You do what you're told – it's that simple."
"It is perhaps that simple for a mindless stormtrooper, but droids are a more advanced intelligence. Cassian gave me the freedom of choice. I choose to do what he asks of me, but I am not forced to do so by my programming. I am capable of acting as I see fit."
TG-1243 stared at the droid. "That's…that's impossible. Why would anyone allow a droid to make its own decisions?"
"Perhaps because it is the right thing to do. And because the Rebel Alliance believes that everyone should have a choice in what they do, not be forced to act as the Empire deems appropriate."
TG-1243 shifted position, eyeing the droid resentfully. Why should a droid have the freedom to choose what it wanted to do, or not do, but he had to do what he was told? That didn't seem very fair to him.
"The Empire knows what's best for the good of all the people," he said firmly. Even as he spoke the words, however, he couldn't feel any conviction in them. Did they, did the Empire know what was best for him? Should they be allowed to decide what he would spend his life doing?
"I do not think you truly believe that. I certainly do not," K-2 answered primly. "The Empire does what is best for the higher ups, at the expense of everyone else. They give no thought to those who make it possible for them to live in ease and luxury – the droids, techs and even stormtroopers. If one of us is killed, they simply bring in another to do the job."
TG-1243 stood abruptly, unwilling to listen to anything else. "You don't know what you're talking about," he insisted.
"Indeed. So you are content with your life as it is and do not wish to change a thing. I understand. Change is very frightening to those used to always following orders."
"I'm not frightened! I said you're wrong. It has nothing to do with me. You don't know anything about me."
"You are mistaken. It has everything to do with you. You forget that I was once Imperial also. Your entire day is spent doing whatever you are told to do. You are expected to follow all orders instantly, without question, even if it costs you your life. All droids and lesser personnel are treated in this manner, including stormtroopers. Those are the facts, as I'm sure you already know."
TG-1243 turned on his heel and reached for his gloves and helmet. This conversation was too unsettling. Perhaps he should just deactivate the droid again and leave it to the actual techs. But as he stared at his helmet, it made his skin crawl to even think of putting it back on. He was used to wearing it, and it wasn't uncomfortable, but why could he not look at the world through his own eyes. Yes, it afforded him protection – far too necessary in this job – but he had sometimes felt that it made him blend into his surroundings, so that his superiors didn't have to take any notice of him. Not until they were ready to issue orders.
Dully he told the droid, "You might as well get used to it. Once they've obtained any information your computer contains about the Rebels, they'll probably deactivate you for good. I doubt they'll see a reason to replace or restore your body. It's easier to obtain another droid than to bother with the lost time and revenue of repairs."
There were several minutes of silence before K-2 ventured, "You could change the situation – for the both of us, if you are willing to do so."
"How? What makes you think that?"
"You could help me to escape."
"Escape! Are you mad? They'd kill me for sure if I tried something like that."
"Have you heard of the Death Star?"
"What? No. What is it – some new weapon of the Alliance?"
"Not the Alliance. It is a secret weapon the Empire has built. It is called a planet-killer and therefore is aptly named. I was on Jedha when the Empire used it to obliterate Jedha City. That is why we have come here – to find a way to destroy it before it can be used again."
"That was a mining accident."
"No, it was the Death Star. I was there and saw it for myself."
"I thought you said it was a planet-killer – why weren't you killed there?"
"It appears that they can control the power of this device and use it more precisely to target only those they wish to eliminate."
"Still sounds like a Rebel weapon to me."
"That is because the Empire tells you lies. The Alliance would not destroy an entire planet to prove a point, any more than one would kill every Reek because one was a threat. They value life. It is not so in the Empire. If someone falls, they are left behind. You know this is true as well as I do. If you do nothing and stay with the Empire, there will be more deaths as there were on Jedha and you will be partly responsible for them."
"Well, it doesn't matter anyway. There is no escape." This was all foolishness, and it was dangerous even having this conversation if anyone overheard.
"I see. You have lost the ability to think for yourself and so are content to remain as you are. I understand."
"Stop saying that! You don't understand anything!" This droid had definitely been reprogrammed – Imperial droids weren't so argumentative and annoying.
"Do you truly believe there is no way to escape, or are you just too afraid to attempt it? Stormtroopers have very short life expectancy, you know. Statistically, some 54.2% are in active service less than three years before they are killed. Those are not very good odds."
"Just…just shut up! Stupid droid."
TG-1243 paced around the console, trying to clear his mind, but the droid's words kept replaying through his thoughts. Unfortunately, he did know many stormtroopers were killed while working for the Empire. He may not have known the percentage, but he had known. It was something he and his fellow troopers avoided talking about. Or even thinking about. Now he couldn't stop thinking about it. Would that be the sum of his life – follow orders day in and day out until someone killed him in the next few years? He had already served for two years. One could say he had only one left before the end came.
"My apologies for causing you such distress. Cassian has warned me that humans do not like to face their mortality. I tend to forget that when I am reporting my calculations."
"You keep insisting there's a way out of here. How would you escape, droid?" He hadn't realized he had reached any kind of decision; the question just popped out of his mouth. But he didn't attempt to withdraw it. He would like to have more than a single year left to his life, and he would like to spend some of it making his own choices. This might be his only chance to bring that about.
"First, you will need to summon another KX droid to this location and deactivate it. I will walk you through it."
It actually went far more smoothly than he would have expected. Left on his own, he doubted he could have managed the programming and rewiring necessary, at least not in so short a time. K-2SO, however, knew what he was doing and soon had his own programming occupying the fully functional droid.
"Now what?" TG-1243's eyes darted nervously around, expecting to be caught at any moment by a superior officer. Even another trooper would find his actions suspicious.
"Now we must get off this planet. I do not believe there is any hope I can rendezvous with my associates. We will aid them if the opportunity presents itself, but for now our focus must be on obtaining a ship. You will escort me to the nearest shuttles under the guise of taking the Rebel droid to be examined for any secrets it may possess. I will not be able to help you – they will not believe my telling them much beyond what my Imperial programming would normally allow. It will be up to you to convince them you have been ordered to bring the droid at once."
"But they'll question it, want to know who gave the order, and where I was instructed to take it! This isn't going to work."
"Calm down. It will work if you stay calm. You are a stormtrooper. You often are not given complete information along with your instructions. A 'senior officer' gave you the instructions to bring the droid to a ship in orbit. I've tapped into the comm system and it appears there are star destroyers that are battling the Rebel forces above us. Tell them you were ordered to take me there."
TG-1243 tried to breathe around the boulder lodged in his chest making him feel lightheaded. This was a big mistake and he was probably ensuring his death would come today, but it was too late to turn back now.
They made it closer to the hangar for the base shuttles than TG-1243 thought possible before anyone stopped them. "Where are you taking that droid?"
At least the squadron leader confronting him wasn't his, and would not know what his last orders were. "I received instructions to bring this Rebel droid for inspection, sir."
"For inspection where? Who gave the order?"
He fought down the panic clawing its way up his throat. "To one of the star destroyers above us, sir. Apparently there is some very important senior officer who wants to examine the droid personally. I've heard unconfirmed chatter that it might be Lord Vader himself." He winced. He'd gone too far – they'd never believe him.
"Lord Vader?" There was a lengthy pause and TG-1243 was uncomfortably aware of the sweat trickling down inside his helmet. "Very well. Get moving then, trooper. Do not keep Lord Vader waiting. Return to base as soon as he releases you, and then report back to your captain. Use this shuttle here."
"Yes, sir." It was all he could do to keep from running into the ship. "That way, droid."
Obediently, K-2 turned and boarded the shuttle and TG-1243 followed him up the ramp, closing it behind them. He wrenched off his helmet, starting to hyperventilate.
"Slow, deep breaths, trooper. You did very well. Now you must hold yourself together until we clear atmosphere and can jump to hyperspace."
"Wait! Can you fly this thing? I can't fly!"
K-2 dropped the damaged KX body off to the side and moved toward the cockpit. "Of course I can fly this. My skills are excellent, likely far superior to any human pilot." He settled into the pilot's chair and began powering up the ship.
TG-1243 dropped into the other chair and looked over the control panel. "What do I do?"
"I suggest that you not touch anything unless I tell you to, given you've admitted you know nothing about flying."
He still held his helmet, but the droid added, "You had best put that on for now. Until we are in hyperspace you could be seen through the viewscreen, and they would find its absence suspicious."
"Oh, right." He settled back, feeling useless, but not knowing what he could do. The droid seemed to have things well in hand. And how had it known he still had his helmet off when it hadn't even looked at him?
A voice sounded over the comm. "Shuttle SC-04, please advise of your intentions."
The droid responded, "This is shuttle SC-04. We have been instructed to rendezvous with the star destroyer in orbit above us. We are delivering a Rebel droid for their inspection, over." He did his best to mimic how Bodhi had spoken with them.
TG-1243 held his breath, fearing they wouldn't believe it. However, a moment later the voice responded, "Acknowledged, SC-04. You are approved for takeoff. Proceed on an easterly course to clear any incoming traffic. Stand by at the shield gate and you will be allowed through once the Rebels are no longer a threat."
"Understood. SC-04 proceeding as instructed on easterly course."
TG-1243 blinked in the brightness outside. It was apparent even through his dark visor, and he hadn't been outside of the facility all day. After a moment, his gaze turned upward and his mouth dropped open. "Wh…what is that?" It almost looked like a moon, but even at this distance he could make out the dish on one side that was clearly manmade.
"That is the reason we need to leave here as quickly as possible," K-2 said. "It would appear the Empire has decided to take drastic measures to stop the Rebel incursion on Scarif."
"What do you mean?" TG-1243's mouth had gone suddenly dry, an inexplicable sense of foreboding filling him.
"That is the Death Star I spoke of. I believe you are about to witness a demonstration of its power."
Just then, a beam lanced downward from the 'death star', shearing off the top of the Citadel before it struck the ground. He pressed his helmet to the viewscreen, watching in horror as the destructive blast sent earth and water surging in an obliterating wave. Beside him, the droid simply kept flying, taking no notice.
The ship turned, and the planet was behind them, passing out of his sight, and he slumped back in the chair. "I…I don't believe it."
"You thought I was mistaken, or lied. However, I am not programmed for exaggeration. I spoke the truth." The rest of his thought, K-2 didn't speak aloud. Goodbye, Cassian.
Once he had set course and gotten them into hyperspace, carefully skirting the still battling vessels, K-2 rose and looked down on the stormtrooper. He had remained silent, probably in shock at what he had seen. The humans who had been with them on Jedha had behaved similarly.
"Would you step in the back, please? It is now safe to remove your helmet."
The man moved wraith-like, nearly oblivious to all around him, but he had registered the words enough to take off his helmet. In the back, he slumped onto a bench, still staring mindlessly at the wall, the image of the destruction playing over and over before his eyes. "You're sure that wasn't the Alliance that did that?" he murmured.
K-2 was rummaging in a storage cupboard, but answered, "If the Alliance had that capability, we would simply have destroyed Scarif and not bothered to infiltrate it. Whether you like it or not, that was the Empire's doing." He found the medpac that he was looking for and came over to the man. Before he could register what was happening, the droid pressed a hypo to his neck and injected him. "I'm sorry about this."
TG-1243 had only seconds to look up at him, startled and alarmed, before slumping unconscious.
K-2 broke his fall and laid him out on the deck, then secured him with binders. He would rather not have had to do this, but he had a duty to report back to the Alliance leaders and tell them what he could of their mission. They would not appreciate his allowing a stormtrooper to know the location of the base or bringing him there without restraint. Once on the ground, he would work to improve the man's situation. It looked as though TG-1243 was now officially a defector.
To be continued…
invented characters:
Sergeant Daster – head of the tech shop on the tech frigate
Dr Lesorid – kind doctor caring for Cassian
All other characters actually are taken from the existing Star Wars universe.
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Figure all months have 30 days; I'm going to assume that 0BBY/0ABY = 1 year, just changing what it was called after Battle of Yavin but not materially changing anything other than name (so 0ABY could start in any month).
I couldn't find a definitive date for the Battle of Scarif, so I chose a date that suited my purposes (July 12). (One fanfic author said it was in May, presumably referencing someone connecting A New Hope with the movie's May debut in theatres.) We know the Destruction of the Death Star began 0 ABY. We know the Rebels didn't relocate until "2 ABY" (though some sources say it was 3 ABY), but I've assumed year 'designate' rather than literally a full year. So 0 ABY is one year and 1 ABY is the second, putting them on Hoth in 2 ABY (and only there 1 month before discovered by the Empire). The Hoth base took about a year to complete its construction. There might have been some use of it during the building.
I'll put the full timeline I'm using for this story with the last chapter posted.
Ch 1 note: I am considering the movie of Rogue One to be canon, though accepting anything in the novelization (which I haven't read) that does not contradict the movie as also part of canon. The movie and the novel do not always agree on the details.
Many authors who have done "fix-it" stories have written different versions of Cassian's injuries from the fall in the data tower. In studying the dvd images and still pix of the scenes, my best guess is that he falls approximately 2-2.5 stories (based on those beams that he hits which seem to be a man's height apart. so 1.5-2 per story). Although Krennic appears to shoot him, there is no evidence of blood anywhere on him, and not on his hands from holding onto a bloody wound. It is possible that Krennic's shot hit near him, and in ducking away he lost his grip and fell. He makes use of both his arms (each is around Jyn's shoulders at some point, with her holding onto it without problem). He walks unsteadily, so his legs and hips are functional, though he is clearly weak and probably in pain. The first girder he hits is on his back, maybe 1 story down. The second one, he has turned and rather than full-on striking it, it is almost an attempt to catch himself on it but is unable to hold on – that one is more a glancing blow. Both of these would slow his descent, reducing what his injuries would be when he then hits the deck (as opposed to a freefall through space without anything slowing his plummet). The fall is maximum 3 seconds (onscreen).
If he did break one or more bones, there is the potential for internal bleeding and thus the need to treat for shock. Concussion is possible, either from the jerking of his head as he struck the girders, or if he hit it on the grate when he landed. If he landed on his feet, that might have absorbed some of the shock and then he rolled onto his side, stunned but not unconscious. No evidence is ever seen of a head wound.
Probably suffered major bruises and possibly sprains; also muscle damage. Most likely injury is broken ribs and all that moving around could shift them so they damage internal organs, causing internal bleeding, collapsing a lung, etc. making his condition worsen over time.
The extent of injuries sustained due to fall from height vary depending on the falling height, composition of the impact surface, rate of deceleration, intermediate objects encountered during the process of fall, position of the body when landing, individual factors such as age, body weight, and also type of the person (child, adult, elderly).
Injuries caused by falls from buildings vary depending on the building's height and the age of the person. Falls from a building's second floor/story (American English) usually cause injuries but are not fatal.
The ribs are especially vulnerable to injury and are prone to breaking due to a direct blow. A chest X-ray often ordered to make certain there is no collapse or bruising of the lung.
As opposed to other parts of the body that can rest when they are injured, it is very important to take deep breaths to prevent pneumonia when rib fractures are present. The treatment for bruised and broken ribs is the same: ice to the chest wall, ibuprofen as an anti-inflammatory, deep breaths, and pain medication. Even if all goes well, there will be significant pain for four to six weeks. Ribs are no longer wrapped because this prevents the victim from breathing deeply, which may lead to the complication of pneumonia.
With lower rib fractures, there may be concern about organs in the abdomen that the ribs protect. The liver is located under the ribs on the right side of the chest, and the spleen under the ribs on the left side of the chest. Many times your doctor may be more worried about abdominal injury than about the broken rib itself.
Ch 1 note: I'm figuring at least a 100 mile radius on the Death Star blast zone before it might be relatively safe. 100 miles = approximately 161 km. "The Kármán line, or Karman line, lies at an altitude of 100 km (62 mi; 330,000 ft) above Earth's sea level and commonly represents the boundary between Earth's atmosphere and outer space."
Ch 1 note: From Wookieepedia: Reeks were large, muscular quadrupeds native to the planet Ylesia. Though naturally herbivores, a starved reek could become a ravenous meat-eater…
Rogue One hoped to survive Scarif, but they didn't count on it. When the unexpected happens, the survivors need to find their new place in the Alliance with the galaxy now at war. [Complete in 22 Chapters, posting on Wed. and Sat. each week until done.]
