"Thanks, mister!" said the kid, moving his goggles up his face as the man helped him up onto his feet. Barely pausing, Bodhi wove between the crowd, laughing as she clutched the toy X-Wing in his left hand, zooming noises coming out of his mouth.

The sun was high that day, and the heat was so sweltering that he had taken his vest off when he had played with the other kids and had tucked it in the band of his pants. Sweat stuck to his face, but that didn't matter, because the issue of the day was the adventure the heroic pilot Jaron Hess was undertaking in order to destroy the evil tyrant Banto Snargleoff. Bodhi had helped Jaron fly through asteroid clouds, a swarm of vicious clone pods, and even saved him from certain death against a horde of rathars. All in all, it was turning out to be a terribly productive day.

He ran out of the main hub of the town and along the riverside that would eventually lead him home. It was becoming terribly frightful for Jaron now: Bodhi wasn't sure if he could get Jaron through the rays of the pink sun that glowed up ahead, but dammit he would.

"And he dives!" he cried, "He weaves in and out of the rays of light, but he can't see because if he opens them the rays will burn out his eyes! He's flying blind! Will he make it? He swoops, he glides, he does a turn in the air and - noooooooo! - he opens his eyes to find the forward propulsors damaged! But he pushes on!"

He jumped over a log and grinned, his arms swooping the pilot high into the sky.

"And he escapes at last to fight another day!"

Bodhi looked up. There was a trail of smoke in the sky, smoke coming from the direction of his home. His brows furrowed. He turned towards the plane in his hand.

"What do you think Jaron! Up for another adventure against Snargeloff?"

He closed his hand more securely around the X-Wing and continued to run forward. The fighter was his favourite, an old toy he had found in a junkyard out in the middle of nowhere when he had been walking with his dad several years ago. His three-year-old eyes had caught sight of the end of the wing protruding in the silt and when he had pulled it out - voila! - the stuff dreams were made of.

"And he runs at full tilt towards the castle, swooping and gliding past planets and through nebulas until -"

He halted.

"Oh."

From his vantage point atop a sand dune he saw rows upon rows of burning houses. This was where he had grown up, where he and his friends had weaved in and out of the domed one storey houses playing hide and seek. Bodhi's first thought questioned why anyone would want to damage another person's home, and how cruel they must be to do so. The second was of his parents.

"Mama!" he cried. "Baba!"

Jaron Hess and Banto Snargeloff were abandoned now as the fighter was clutched in a pumping fist. The young kid slid haphazardly down the dune until his feet met the pathway and he ran in the direction of his home.

Soldiers in white were everywhere. They had been called stormtroopers. That was the first name he had heard for them when they descended from the sky. They made his parents tremble and his friends scared, and he did not like that. Jaron Hess didn't like that.

Then up in the sky a ship zoomed overhead, not like those X-Wing or U-Wings he had seen before but ones with a round middle and what looked like umbrella wings on each side. Bodhi loved ships, always had done, but in his gut he wasn't sure if he liked these ones.

Eyes back on the ground, he began to run until a white gloved hand came out of nowhere and stopped him in his tracks.

"Hold it right there, kid," said the voice.

In the hangar of the Rebel Alliance a now grown-up Bodhi Rook swallowed and took a deep breath.

"I was taken where I stood, brought to the Empire's training academy and put to work."

He looked at the crowd around him. It had started as being just Jyn, Cassian, Chirrut and Baze, but now the crowd was over a dozen, and unless Bodhi was imagining things he could even see Han Solo listening in as he did repairs to his ship.

"I never got to find out if my parents made it out alive."

Bodhi didn't look up to see their sympathy. He didn't want their sympathy. That was too much, simply unnecessary. But it helped for him to talk about it, for him to be able to get it off his chest for the first time in his life.

He shrugged, looking around slightly bewildered at his audience.

"So... that's my story," he said lightly. "Not very exciting as you can tell. Nothing much to see here. Just one of a number of tragic stories -"

He felt Jyn's hand touch his own.

"I'll try and find out if your parents are alive," said Jyn, sincerity in her eyes. "I promise."

She got up from her spot next to Cassian and wandered through the small crowd until she was out of the hangar. Slowly, as they realised there was no more story to be told, the crowd dispersed. Only Cassian, Baze, Chirrut and K-2SO remained.

After a moment Chirrut took a deep breath.

"I am glad you are with us, Bodhi," he said simply. "I am sure your parents would be proud of you."

Then he placed a hand on the pilot's own, and with a nod, he withdrew. Bodhi watched Baze nod in kind, the goodness in his eyes saying more than words ever could, and then leave along with Chirrut.

That left just him and Cassian, and Kaytoo.

"Thank you for that story," Cassian said quietly.

"I - what - no, not at all," said Bodhi, feeling awkward for being thanked after telling such a tale. "Thank you for listening."

"It just made me feel less lonely thinking about about my own childhood," the captain said. Cassian had been scarred by the Empire at such a young age too, Bodhi knew. "I'm grateful for that."

"That's okay," said Bodhi, cracking a smile at his friend. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Jyn Erso appear back in the hangar, every step full of purpose until she reached Han Solo and tapped him on the shoulder.

"She's on a mission for you now," said Cassian quietly.

Bodhi nodded, and then a grin crept up on his face.

"Speaking of missions," he said. "You teach Jyn how to fly that X-Wing yet?"

He received a whack on his arm in reply but Bodhi didn't mind: for as long as he was with his friends, with his new family, the next day, and the next day, and the next would always be a good one.