(A/N) I'm officially obsessed with Orson Krennic. Hands down, him and Obi-Wan are the ultimate baes. I hope you enjoy the story, please R and R, let me know what you think!
He smiled, his most charming, well-adjusted smile that he reserved only when his need was greatest. This was one such occasion, when a failing physics grade would have meant he couldn't complete the engineering program and the only person who understood the Munich theory they had been learning was sitting in front of him, somewhat reminiscent of a wounded animal. He stuck out a hand, "Orson Krennic." He knew this boy's name, but thought they might be better served by formality, given his classmates startled features.
After a moment of silence, the other boy took it. "Galen Erso." Krennic waited, the smile still on his face as he pulled his hand back. After a prolonged awkwardness, Galen spoke again, "Did you need something?"
"May I sit for a moment?" He tried to act almost shy, match his persona to Galen's, a difficult task for a man who typically proceeded boldly forward with whatever he was planning. Galen nodded and Orson flipped open his holopad as he pulled the chair out. "We have physics together."
"You sit in the third row. Second seat from the left." Orson was startled, his eyebrows lifting upwards for a moment, but he just nodded. "We haven't spoken before."
"True." He was beginning to wonder where Galen Erso had gotten his social cues, clearly not from the same place Orson had: state dinners, formal gatherings, lavish parties where everyone had money and could quickly talk their way to more. He had learned that being blunt rarely got you anywhere in a conversation, though now with Galen, all he had learned seemed upended. "There's never a bad time to make friends."
"Oh." Was all Galen said, almost as if he could not imagine someone trying to make friends with him. He stared at Orson for a moment, who was starting to question his plan altogether, but Krennic, having perfected the art of asking for help, began to look like he was working on his own holopad and Galen followed suit. He had a pen, an actual pen and pad of flimsi in front of him, running fingers over the screen of his old-model holopad and taking notes in flowing, multicolored script as Krennic watched him. He was writing mathematical formulas as if they were simple sentences, his lips flicking up and down at the corners as he worked, up when he easily moved through part of a problem, down when he would hit a small snag. But to Krennic's wonder, the snags remained small and nothing seemed to stop his progress for more than a few short moments.
He pretended to work on his screen, responding to communications from friends about dinner plans under the guise of homework. He needed this boy's help, but was almost too interested in watching him to interrupt his progress. His need for a decent grade won out, however, and he quickly switched the screen over to the problem he had been stuck on for well over an hour.
"I noticed you were working on the section about Munich." He said, and after finishing a line of script, Galen's dark eyes flickered upwards at him. "Do you think you could help me with this?" He turned the pad, though Galen's eyes stayed on him for another moment before moving to the screen.
"You are not using the Rydberg constant correctly. It is supposed to be in the first section of the equation, not the second." He had looked at the problem for all of three seconds before he answered and went back to his own work. Krennic blinked, looking over his own work, not fully understanding why what Galen said was true, but knowing that it was correct. He redid the work, and in a few minutes, realized that Galen had been right, his problem now corrected to reflect the right answer.
He started work on the next one, remembering when to use the constant, but it was no use. "Sorry," He said, doing his best to look sheepish. "What about this one?" Galen leaned back this time, setting his pen down.
"Divide it into two sections, the theory applies only to things already in motion. The second is not." Galen sat, and Krennic was very aware that his eyes were on him as he began and finished the calculations. "Do you need help with the next one?" Krennic could feel his face going red, an unfortunate habit. He rubbed his hand roughly over his neck.
"If you don't mind." He set up the pad between them, and in his own short, clipped fashion Galen began to explain what was happening in each of the remaining questions. There were occasions when Krennic would interrupt him for explanation and he would blink as if he hadn't really expected him to be listening. But then he would continue, offering a few words of help before moving on with his original explanation. By the end, Krennic thought he might have a decent shot at passing whatever quiz was coming up, and the test after that, and that he certainly had gotten a perfect score on the homework.
"Well," He said, when the 100% flashed across the screen as they finished, "Thank you, Galen. You may have saved my career in engineering after all."
After a moment, Galen spoke, "You want to join the Corp?" Krennic tilted his head, the Republic Corp of Engineers was the most profitable arm of the Republic, where men and women were paid large sums of money to design the inner workings of the Republic and feed the machines of safety and waging war that it kept. His father certainly wanted that future, which was the most secure job in the galaxy, but if he had to be honest, he saw himself as more of a visionary. He found himself focusing most easily in his architecture courses, which he was slowly filling his electives with, and thought that might suit him better. Grand construction projects, branding his name and style across the galaxy: it would be perfect.
"Perhaps. Are you? You certainly seem to…"
"Research." Galen said, and then looked down, realizing he had interrupted. But Krennic didn't mind, the rest of his words had been simple filler. "I think I am more suited for research. I have some ideas in mind."
He was looking back up at him, and Krennic watched as the tops of his ears turned pink as he spoke. He thought for a moment, thinking that Galen would probably be best suited for research, the solitude of work rather than the extensive team efforts that were dominating the engineering field as the galaxy became larger and larger, and the projects along with it.
"I'd love to hear them." He said, with that smile again, and just the right tone of flattery. "But I'm afraid I've got to be going." He stood, placing his pad back inside of his bag. Galen was looking down again, obviously thinking that since Orson Krennic had gotten what he wanted, he wouldn't pay him any more mind or time or attention. "Are you available for lunch tomorrow? After class, I know an excellent place not far from here we could go."
Galen blinked up at him, that same look of almost startled fear on his face. His ears turned pink again, and he drew his arms into his body. "I am on the dining plan…" Krennic tried not to curl his lips at the thought of having to eat the horrible food served in the dining halls each day. He often went only for a quick bite of breakfast, or something small after a pick-up game of smashball. He, along with most of the others, had more than enough money to eat wherever they chose.
"My treat, of course. Since you have gotten me through physics, the least I can do is a meal." He smiled, knowing how to make his paying for it not seem like an act of charity but rather one of retribution. "It will give us a further chance to discuss your research."
Galen said nothing for a long time, his eyes moving back and forth. "Of course, if you would rather not..." Krennic said, and Galen immediately shook his head.
"I will meet you tomorrow after class." Galen interrupted again, again looking down.
"Excellent." He said, and pulled his bag around his shoulders, leaving with a flourish to the confused looks of other students who couldn't understand why Orson Krennic would spend any more time than he had to with a scholarship student from Grange.