Galen was widely recognised as a genius by scientists all over the galaxy. Designing the Death Star had required intimate knowledge of several disciplines; mechanical engineering, mathematics, crystallography, chemistry, hyperspace physics… the list went on.
Because of this, he knew without a doubt that his new creation, named LP-0143, was flawless. It would work perfectly.
And that disturbed him more than any designs for a weapon of mass destruction.
He placed the vial on his desk. The innocuous silver liquid shone in the harsh light of his office, and it looked as if he'd bottled starlight.
LP-0143 was a love potion, if one were to romanticize date rape drugs.
Galen wouldn't allow himself to do that. He had abandoned his rose tinted glasses a long time ago.
Galen abhorred the idea of drugging someone into caring for him in order to manipulate their affections. However, he couldn't take the chance that if he trusted someone with the truth of his betrayal they wouldn't betray him in turn. Galen would then have two options; kill whomever he'd told, or allow himself to be caught, and all his planning and years of hard work would have been for naught.
Galen had already decided what he was going to do before he'd even begun synthesising the drug. He liked to muse upon it, debate his options, but in truth there was only one.
A knock at the door disturbed him and Galen pocketed the vial. "Come."
Ensign Bodhi Rook entered the room. He was a timid cargo pilot, bullied by his peers, the perfect victim. Galen felt sick to his stomach upon seeing him, but he didn't allow it to show upon his face. He had many years of practise at that.
"Please, take a seat."
Rook shot him a nervous glance, and shuffled forward. He sat stiffly in the metal chair, his gaze flickering about the room, taking in the sights.
There wasn't much to see. Galen's office was nothing spectacular. Bookshelves lined the wall, a potted plant sat in one corner, and his various holopads were splayed upon his desk.
"Would you like a drink?" Galen offered a moment later. He stood before Rook could answer and strode to the sideboard. He poured two glasses of water.
In the bottom of one glass there was a droplet of LP-0143. Galen handed the water over, choosing not to take a seat as he sipped from his own glass.
"Thank you," Rook mumbled.
"You're welcome." Silence filled the room and Rook fidgeted, tapping at the glass with his fingers. Galen cleared his throat.
"Do you know why I've called you here?"
Rook shook his head. Galen forced himself to smile. "It's nothing bad, I assure you." Some of the tension in Rook's shoulders was released.
Rook took a sip of water. Galen watched him swallow before continuing.
"Your flying is consistently superior than that of your peers. I wished to congratulate you."
Rook flushed. "Thank you, sir."
"Please, call me Galen."
Rook smiled at that. "Thank you, Galen."
"I've heard the cargo runners between Jedha and Eadu are looking for another pilot. Would you be interested in that position? It's a difficult run, but your work has been excellent so far. I believe that you can do it." He moved around the desk, and clasped Rook's shoulder with his hand, feeling the taught muscle and body warmth through his clothing.
"Definitely, sir."
"Galen," he interrupted. Rook met his eyes then glanced away.
"Galen. Thank you for this opportunity."
Galen nodded and withdrew back to his side of the desk, glad for a physical barrier between them.
"Very good," Galen said. "That is all."
Rook stood, saluted, and marched out the room.
The moment Rook left, Galen placed the glass of water on his desk, ignoring his shaking hands. He walked calmly to the 'fresher, and shut the door.
There, he fell to his knees, and threw up the contents of his stomach.
The next time Rook was on base Galen summoned him to his office again. He wordlessly handed the pilot a glass of drugged water and motioned him to take a seat.
"Congratulations on your first successful run, Ensign Rook."
"Thank you, Galen," Rook said, eyeing him anxiously as he said Galen's name. Galen nodded his approval. "And you can call me Bodhi, if you like."
"Bodhi," Galen tested the world, feeling it out as he sat behind his desk. "The weather is particularly bad today," he joked. The weather was always abysmal.
Bodhi grinned shyly. "It was nice to see the sun, even if it's still cold on Jedha. I had a moment to myself while they were loading up the ship and I just spent it soaking up the light," he said.
"Ah, the sun… I do not believe that I have seen the sun in many years," Galen mused. For a moment, his mind was drawn to Lah'mu, of green fields and Lyra's sun kissed skin.
"How long have you been on Eadu?" Bodhi asked, his brows furrowed. "I thought Senior Research Officers were permitted leave." He shifted uncomfortably when Galen shook himself and looked up to catch his eye.
"That is a story for another day, I'm afraid," Galen said. Perhaps he would even end up telling Bodhi the truth. "However, it suffices to say that Eadu is my home now, and I must make it such."
Bodhi frowned, but Galen was glad to see that he didn't pursue the subject.
"What is Jedha like, these days?" Galen asked before the silence could draw out for too long.
Bodhi huffed. "There is much unrest. The locals are not fond of the Empire's occupation." He shot a panicked glance at Galen. "Insurgents and traitors that they are."
Galen felt a sick sort of glee at that. His plans would certainly be helped if Bodhi was not a true Imperial loyalist.
Over the course of the next few weeks Galen and Bodhi met several times, and each time Galen slipped Bodhi a drop or two of LP-0143. Bodhi became increasingly familiar with him, and they formed a solid friendship. Galen carefully divulged small pieces of information about his past; tales of his time as a farmer, of his dead wife, of his precious Stardust. Nothing dangerous, but enough to inform Bodhi that perhaps he did not love the Empire as much as everyone else on Eadu believed.
One evening Bodhi turned up especially late, in civvies rather than his uniform and with bags under his eyes. Galen offered him a glass of Shesharilian vodka instead of the usual water, and led him into his living space.
He'd drugged both their drinks, three drops each.
"It is late. I have no wish to sit at my desk for any longer this evening. I hope you do not mind," he said as an excuse for inviting Bodhi into his lounge, rather than his office. They sat together on Galen's sofa.
"I don't mind," Bodhi said softly, brown eyes fixed upon Galen's own. Galen took a sip of vodka, and then licked his lips. Bodhi's gaze dropped to them briefly, before he flushed and glanced away. Galen shifted closer.
"How was your last cargo run?" he asked.
"Busy. The officers are getting impatient, and there's been fighting between the rebels and the troopers. It feels like we're building up to something big."
Galen hummed neutrally and took another sip. He could feel the insidious nature of the drug within him; Bodhi's features seemed more appealing, his lips pink and wet, and his smile made Galen's heart race.
Bodhi awkwardly tapped the edge of his glass with his fingers, a trait Galen had yet to break him of, although in that moment Galen couldn't help but find it endearing. Then Bodhi swallowed his drink in two large gulps, before setting the empty tumbler on the table.
"Galen," Bodhi whispered, fidgeting in his seat. Galen placed his drink aside and tilted his head.
"Yes," he said, his voice low. Bodhi surged forward to kiss him, and Galen slid a hand around the back of Bodhi's head as Bodhi shifted closer, pressing their bodies together.
Please forgive me, Lyra, Galen thought, and then he allowed himself to be absorbed in the heady task of love making.
Life continued on, tension rising on Eadu as the Death Star neared completion. Bodhi was almost never there, but when he was they didn't waste time, merely spent what little they had pressed together, breathing each other's air. Finally, the day came.
"I have… a favour to ask of you," Galen said. Bodhi looked up from tying his laces and smiled. Galen didn't smile back. He withdrew the hologram from his pocket.
"This contains information on how to destroy the weapon I've been building."
Bodhi's jaw dropped. "What," he breathed, his eyes fixed upon it.
"You must get this to Saw Gerrera, as soon as possible. He lives on Jedha," Galen said, pressing the hologram into Bodhi's shaking hands.
"I know who that is!" Bodhi snapped. He took the hologram. Devastation crossed his face. "All this time..." Bodhi said weakly. Galen placed his hands on Bodhi's cheeks and pressed their foreheads together. He didn't bother to confirm it.
All this time he'd spent moulding Bodhi into the perfect tool, the scalpel he would wield against the Empire. They both knew it, even if Bodhi did not know the full extent of his manipulations.
"You're a good man, Bodhi," Galen said. "I want you to have a chance at a better life. This weapon I've been making – it is pure evil. It is a planet killer, and we cannot allow the Empire to get away with it. Please, if you love me…"
"Of course I love you," Bodhi said with a sob. Galen wiped away Bodhi's tears with his thumb. "You know I do."
"I know," Galen whispered. "I know. I'm sorry. Please, will you do this?"
"How could I not?" Bodhi murmured, and straightened, pulling back. He ran a hand over his face, trying to wipe it clean of emotion, scrubbing at the tears, but the pain in his eyes was clear to see. Galen shook, desperate to cling to him, desperate to apologise and he hated himself with a newly discovered passion. For as much as he had come to care for Bodhi, he could not bring himself to regret his actions, only loathe their necessity.
Bodhi nodded, sharply, and cleared his throat. "I'll do it. But know this: I'm doing it for you, Galen." It was censure and a promise neatly wrapped together. Bodhi pressed a final kiss to Galen's lips, and left without looking back.
Galen watched as Bodhi walked out of his quarters for the last time, a hologram in his pocket that could save the rebellion.
"May the force be with you," he said quietly, to the empty air.
He could not bring himself to happy, no matter how successful his plan had been. Guilt tore him apart, and he allowed a single tear to fall before standing tall. He would not allow his façade to fail now.
He'd done the right thing, no matter how wrong it felt. Soon, he knew, he would see Lyra again, and perhaps Jyn.
And he hoped with all this heart that Bodhi would be safe.