I wasn't surprised by the knock at the door. Actually, I was rather relieved, because Galen had seemed more subdued than usual this past week and not visited once. My attempts to bring him out of his shell had been brushed off rather abruptly, so after the second try, I just assumed his mind was too busy formulating a plan and had left him to his devices.

I authorised the door to swish open by vocal command, and stood to greet my friend. The dim light of my quarters – I liked to keep my place intimate at night – pained at covering the dark circles under Galen's eyes. It took just one look at his face for my blood to run cold. He looked … aghast. Totally lost, and just about to walk out the door and jump into the abyss. I rushed to pull him inside by the sleeve, and popped my head out to check that the corridor was deserted. No one in sight. Good.

The door closed at my command, and I pushed the tall doctor to the bed. He sank like a rock, causing the hinges to cringe under his weight. His hands came up, encasing his head in a vice grip, long fingers grasping at his brownish hair, nearly tearing it apart. His whole frame trembled and I gasped; I'd never seen him so defeated, even the day Lyra died. I knelt before him, trying to find his face. Fat drops – tears – fell before my very eyes, causing my chest to tighten in fear.

What had happened?

— "Galen… Galen, what's wrong?"

Nothing, nothing but his shaking form and more tears than ran down the bridge of his nose and landed on my sleeve. Gently, my hands settled on his forearms, trying to reach him through touch, but he was too far gone.

— "Galen, please."

His head shot up so suddenly that he nearly head butted me. Tear tracks marred his face, his eyes red, irises lost in another world. The agony written on his face was almost too much to bear, and I felt my breath catch. Galen slid to his knees before me, his legs intertwining with mine on the duracrete floor. Despair. Utter and total despair. He was as fragile as a leaf in the autumn wind, so close to break away from the tree and get destroyed.

I reached for him instinctively, my arms winding around his broad shoulders, pulling him against my chest in a mothering move. And, as I conveyed my support, he eventually let go and broke down sobbing earnestly. His body sagged, taking us to the floor, his frame racked with heart-wrenching shivers, his sadness so powerful that I couldn't prevent tears from welling in my eyes.

— "I abandoned her, my stardust," he rasped.

It was the first time someone trusted the cold, haughty Elya to break down in her arms. And despite the despair, over the immense and unbreakable agony that poured out of him, I felt proud to be the one he had turned to.

So I tightened my hold, and let this great man, this legend overflow my heart with anguish. His mumbled words slowly became more intelligible, and I eventually understood that today, Jyn Erso has turned 10 years old. Without a father, without a mother on that important birthday. Lost, the gods knew where, in the galaxy with the empire on her tracks.

It took a while for Glen to let go and I… I certainly didn't want him to. Human contact, after all those years ignoring emotion, was an oddity in my life. But somehow, it felt good to crush him to my chest. I felt … more complete, by this simple thing, than when my mind grasped an impossible theory.

Eventually, though, he regained his composure. Sadness still danced in his eyes, a pure wave of agony that wouldn't be easily swept away. But at least, he seemed to regain control over his body for he straightened.

— "I'm sorry," he eventually said, passing a hand through his messy strands. "I…"

— "It's alright, Galen. This is what friends are for."

And for the first time in my life, I understood what this rehearsed sentence meant. For I had been there, fully present and dedicated to him in this moment of overwhelming grief. My heart had taken the brunt of it, beaten in unison with this incredible wave of anguish. I had shared an emotion with someone; it created such a strong bond that I was slightly out of it.

Galen extended a trembling hand, helping me up, and we found ourselves standing awkwardly in my little room before he darted to the fresher to douse his face in cold water. My hand lifted to my cheek, finding a few stray tears. When was the last time I had cried? My mother's death, perhaps?

When Galen emerged from the fresher, I decided to resume my usual position against the board and fish out the bottle of liquor. My unspoken invitation did the trick, for instead of shifting upon his feet, wondering, "what now?", he settled in his usual spot against the duracreete wall and accepted the bottle from me.

— "Tell me," I ordered.

— "Tell you what?" was his defeated response.

— "Everything, anything. Just take it out of your chest, because it is eating at you."

Galen drank a long drag from the bottle before handing it back to me, his red-rimmed eyes watching me speculatively. I wondered if I had pushed too far, too soon. Or if a normal, sentient being would have suggested such a blunt thing. But eventually, he saw the wisdom in my words and started speaking. His low, smooth voice washed over me, bringing such hurt, such heartache that I felt my spine stiffen from the pain.

— "My little girl. No mother, and not even her father to compensate a little. I am a poor substitute, but I love her so badly. Her absence is digging in my mind."

Damn, it hurt to see someone you admired so dejected! In this moment, I realised I would have done anything to see him smile again. Anything.

— "I don't know I long I can go on before I give up, Elya. It is too much, even for me," he concluded.

I lost my gaze in the standard coverlet of synthetic fibres, thinking hard.

— "We need to find a way for you to be there next year."

A gleam of hope shone in his gaze, and despite the red puffy eyes, I found that I could not tear my gaze away from him. This moment we had just shared had scrambled my foundations. Would life be easier with someone else to trust? If I didn't have to wade through it alone? How dangerous, how much of a liability could a close friend be?

For I had no doubt that my presence, this very evening, had been capital to Galen Erso's well-being. And I was glad for it. Proud, as well, that he had chosen to depend on me. Flutters ran from my chest to my stomach, a new sense of self-worth settling in. My value, for once, had not been measured by my academic ability. A human being.

— "You're right, Elya. I need to pick up the pace. Being away from Jyn … this will kill me. How long until I forget her face?"

I squirmed in my seat; was it the alcohol burning my throat? What would friends respond to that anyway, the possibility of death? We both knew, now, how dangerous our situation was here. Fleeting, especially if we established a link. Galen was indispensable, but I could be discarded.

— "I'd rather keep you alive and well, Galen Erso."

And I meant it.

From that day, I saw less and less of Galen. He was "bonding with the hypermatter reactor team". Meaning he had a plan that I still refused to know. Officially, Dr Erso tried to see the big picture and calibrate the Kybers in accordance to the neutrinos dampeners – to cool the reactors – and the size of the shaft. Officiously, I had not idea what was going on in his mind.

I kept careful tabs on my curiosity to prevent myself from figuring it out. That effort occupied my mind so fully – I couldn't help it – that I spend more time learning meditating techniques to control my thoughts. Strangely, this new occupation opened my senses; if my mind wasn't roiling full time, it gave more room to feelings and other stimuli. Smells, tics, postures, noises sometimes replaced the ever dull cogs of my busy mind.

I often shared my lunch with Dr Gubacher. His tentacles and blue-grey skin had thrown me for a loop, at first, but I found that I enjoyed his company as much as his conversation. And while, out of the corner of my eye, I observed an animated discussion between Erso and the hypermatter reactor team, we debated on the notion of life and artificial intelligence. It was Dr Gubacher's specialty, and the reason why he was in charge of the droids in the lab. He treated them as if they were alive, and obtained a synergy none of us could muster.

— "I see your mind wanders again, Elya."

I blinked, returning to my plate with a blush on my cheeks. Yes, my eyes sometimes had a will of their own; they couldn't seem to let Galen Erso alone entirely. Now that I knew the man behind the scientist, I couldn't help but admire him.

Those tiny expressions were clearer now, the crow's feet at the corner of his eyes, the tiny quirk of his lips … that gleam in his amber eyes when realisation set in, the stubborn set of his jaw when he was pissed. The more I observed him, the more I learnt to read him. The puzzle, at last, was starting to make sense and I enjoyed watching him.

Dr Gubacher threw me a tentative smile – his inexistent lips twitching, causing me to redden even more. Never had I been so glad for our ploy; the cover story of being lovers was just too convenient. Fortunately, my octopus colleague didn't seem to mind. What could love and sexuality be like for his species? An unwelcome shudder racked my shoulders. Ugh! Wrong image.

— "So you see. Droids are not alive, per se, but still have those imprints of emotions coded into them."

— "I get what you mean, Dr Gubacher. Life has a much broader meaning than what I learnt."

The scientist formed an "O" with his mouth. Galen would purse his lips, and Dr Gubacher's feature morph in this strange expression, his middle eye narrowing.

— "Ah yes. Those programs are certainly designed to train your mind, but they do not cover whole branches of subjects. Starting with the meaning of life"

He was trying not to insult the training for brilliant minds that Erso, Krennic and myself had gone through. Yet, I could hear the disapproval in his posture well enough. How tiresome those emotions; they were everywhere and took so much of my attention now. Is that how Krennic managed to manipulate people so easily?

— "Now that you work with a brilliant mind that knows no bounds, you need to broaden your views of the world, young Elya"

I sure was young compared to him. And to Galen as well… But I didn't mind. I was here to learn, after all, and had got more than I bargained for. So, if droids could be considered to hoover on the brink of life, what about …?

— "So, Kybers? The Jedi thought them alive. What do you think?"

I observed closely, trying to see if the mention of an ancient religion brought discomfort to my colleague. On the contrary, the question seemed to perk his interest as his tentacles quaked around his tray.

— "That's a difficult notion. The Jedi had their own understanding of life. We use different sensors and thus, any discussion would have been inconclusive. What is life, really?"

Different sensors … or rather, more senses? Things that were unattainable to us scientists, right? The will of the Force, in which Lyra Erso believed. A sudden weight upon my neck caused me to shift my head, and I caught Galen's eye from across the mess. His look was speculative, assessing, and it travelled briefly to Dr Gubacher before it returned to me. For a fleeting moment, his hazel eyes softened in an expression that caused my lips to quirk, then looked away.

I had entirely lost the question, and replayed the conversation – thank my memory – to return to my current lunch companion. What is life?

— "An organism that can sustain itself?" I chanced.

I wasn't so good with ethical questions. My domain revolved around quantum physics, wave functions and antimatter. I could name every single component of a neutrino, but wouldn't even quote one animal of this planet to save my life.

— "What about bacteria?" Dr Gubacher retorted. "They need a host, yet they live. Kybers exists on their own, and exude power. It is enough?"

His answer caused great havoc within me. If an artificial intelligence specialist, the master of machines, could consider the Kybers alive, who was I to contradict him? Perhaps I try to communicate with our crystals more seriously. What if they could answer? Did I stand a chance at all, given I wasn't Force sensitive? Was the Force the only means of communication with Kybers? I had, after all, already been granted a vision. Or perhaps I was going crazy with lack of sleep.

— "I get your point, Dr Gubacher."

The three eyed alien shook his head twice, as was his wont whenever he agreed, and went back to drinking his fish-shake.