I may be a masochist, but I found Galen and Orson's confrontation in Rogue a great beginning to a story untold. I hope this version fills in a few gaps on how they came from friends, to friennemies, to that last scene where Krennic hits Galen (and not like a girl hehe).
"Is that the best you've got?" Orson hissed. "Come on, Galen, I know your mind. Your possibilities. I want spectacular!"
Of course, Krennic would never settle for the meager demonstration I was trying to put up for Lord Vader's coming. Like a child eager to please, he wanted us to steal the show.
"This is science, Orson, not fireworks," I sighed wearily.
Fireworks; that reference wasn't chosen by chance, even if I kept my face neutral enough to make it seem innocent. Coruscant's fireworks on All-Species week had covered our escape the very first time, allowing us to slip between his fingers undetected. I knew Orson wouldn't forget, it was just a jab to set him on edge.
His jaw twitched but he kept his cool and I had to refrain from yawning in his face. As if on cue, a service droid barged into the room with two cups of caff. My former friend exhaled slowly, and sat in front of me, handing me the steaming beverage. We'd been stacked in his office for the past two hours, and no amount of caff would possibly make up for the lost sleep. When it wasn't the Kybers keeping me awake, the nightmares took precedence. This night, in particular…
"Galen," Orson started again, his voice more conciliatory. "Lord Vader is a very demanding man. The Emperor's second in command. We cannot disappoint him."
I nodded, my face impassive. It's not that I didn't care; I did. But not for the same reasons. My own little pressure didn't reside in making the Sith proud.
I had, recently, emitted the hypothesis that our crystals needed to be considered as individuals, and not according to their weight. I knew it to be true; their combined action depended on their strengths and weaknesses. Their personalities. Thanks to Elya's mediations, we had determined which combinations not to use to keep the research stalling.
Lyra died, every time. The nightmares never allowed me to save her.
"We can't have any more explosions, Galen. The Kybers must remain intact, there are not many left in the Galaxy. It's our life on the line here!"
"You mean your ass? And your next promotion, Orson?"
Icy blue eyes narrowed, his fist tightening around the cup. Yet, he said nothing; I was right. Right, all along, to tell him to go away. To refuse … right all along until Lyra died. Over and over in my dreams. That man I had loved like a brother … could I hate him?
"You've stupidly destroyed too many. Commander Tarkin wasn't pleased."
I remembered the man rather well; he wasn't too keen on having Krennic on board, if I recall. Still, I had to refrain a smile. Loading the Kybers all at once had created such a beautiful explosion, the fiasco of the year! Elya and I had watched, our faces contorted in mock horror, as our experiment "failed" and wiped out an entire section of that blasted moon.
"Stupidly, Orson? Are you a genius now, telling me how to achieve your dream?"
I hoped my cutting words would keep him away from prying. The genius was actually Dr Gubacher. That pulpoïd had guessed, right away, that the crystals needed reassurance. A progressive charge, slow and steady, might create a resonance effect. I had fought tooth and nails, invoking incoherent talking and quantic reasons out of his reach to push back against him. Most of the team agreed with me vehemently. But most wasn't enough…
"You've slackened a bit, recently," Orson snapped, watching me with attention.
My blood froze; I knew where he was going… I needed a distraction, right now. And what better distraction – aside from the satisfaction – than to attack him.
"I think we were close to greatness. You told me yourself when you dragged me out of my farm. This close. It you want greatness, you'll have to pay for it. Research is research."
My nonchalance struck too true. And from the iciness that suddenly descended in the room, I knew retaliation would be swift.
"Perhaps I should transfer sweet Elya somewhere else. I fear that she proves to be more of a distraction than an incentive…"
Orson was too soft to call upon her charm, he'd never been crude after all. Yet, I fought my body, my mind and my heart to remain still. Like a frozen statue, attuned to the moon's cold, I interiorised every single emotion that tried to break the surface. For this morning, it wasn't Lyra who had died before my very eyes. No. That body, lying lifeless on the ground, was Elya. Sweet Elya, and her gaze as green as emeralds, her red ringlets coated in blood.
Banishing the image from my mind, I shrugged casually. When did I become such a good liar?
"Suit yourself. I can work without her, but she's the one who manages the team."
Orson's icy gaze pinned me in place a moment more, and I casually drank caff from my cup. Gosh, it really was quite awful. Slightly better than the one we struggled to buy on Lah'mu, but much worse than what we used to drink in Coruscant.
"When is she supposed to return?" he asked, voice dripping with honey.
"When the Kybers are fully charged."
Krennic suddenly stood, gesturing for me to do the same. The harsh line of his shoulders showed how tense he was, and I saw how he struggled not to be petty. Somewhere, deep within, that man still held affection for me. And me, for him. It wouldn't protect him from my betrayal; he'll be left to the wolves … there was too much at stake to even consider reasoning with him.
Orson had chosen his path, killing my Lyra, and dragging an innocent in the process. If Elya was out on an ocean planet right now, supervising a charge test underwater, it was just to keep her out of the way. And Dr Gubacher. My smart second in command got along pretty well with the octopus to keep him busy, and unsuspecting.
I, on the other side, was weaving my web … working my ass off, in secret, making contacts, gaining info, drinking with the pilots. Trying not to miss her. But at night, when the Kybers' energy kept me awake, I couldn't get to her quarters, and nibble on a piece of coral, her soft voice lulling me to sleep.
A datapad landed in my hands, Krennic's smirk indicating that he had found his revenge.
"There," he said. "Work on this. It's the weaponised test we ran before you fled from Coruscant. It looked promising."
My jaw clenched, and I wondered if I wasn't about to gain a trip to the healing ward to have my back teeth replaced.
"Weaponised test?"
Orson only smiled.
"When did this happen?", I hissed.
"Remember those test we were supposed to run on site, the ones you kept asking for results?"
This time, I blanched. Cold sweat ran down my spine as rightful wrath filled my veins. That bastard! How could I forget? Misled like a baby, I had been waiting for the results of this renewable energy project, only to be thwarted at every attempt. The data had gone missing, or they were sent but blocked by the security algorithm, available, then not.
Oh, I can't hear you! Oh, I missed you! I'll bring them myself when I visit, don't stop your research.
And I had walked into the trap giddily. If Lyra had not taken me out for a walk, away from security … dragging me to Lah'mu thanks to her connections.
Damn. That hurt. The full truth of his past deception even more difficult to swallow now that he had killed my wife. My hero, the woman who had got me out of the mess, out of his clutches in the first place.
"I hate you, Orson," I spat.
The man had the gall to grin, and I remembered our nights out, when he was desperately trying to get me to socialise. His eyes, though, weren't as cold as today.
"Don't care. Do your job, I'll do mine."
Dead. Galen was dead.
I fixed my attire, jaw set. There was no time to linger. It had been nearly a year, already. A year since I had seen his smile, the golden flecks in his eyes, the discreet quirk of his lips. Such a long year, where sadness had crushed my back, and loneliness my hopes. But I held true to my promise, I couldn't falter. For once, Elya, the young woman, had something worthy to accomplish. And so I would, should I die in the process.
But death was not an option. Who would look after Jyn if I couldn't reach for her? Who would tell her how her father died a hero? How he loved her, and sought every possible way to return? How he cried in my arms when her birthday came? Jyn couldn't possibly remember the great man that was Galen Erso, and she never would if I didn't manage.
I had a promise to keep. That last vow I made before Vader force choked him in front of my very eyes. I fell upon my knees, burying my head in the blanket that once bore his scent. It was his favourite spot to sit, so much that, in the end, the synthetic fibers smelt of him. I had no tears left to shed for this great man. The purpose of sabotaging the future battle station had replaced my shattered heart.
My only friend, gone … leaving an orphan behind. Time to go.
The corridors looked different, more sombre, almost leaky. Had the Kybers modified their structure? Transparisteel and duracrete didn't feet the same under my palm as I ran. Ran for my life, legs pumping in the maze of corridors. Where was this stupid hall again? I couldn't remember.
Left, left. Blood pounding in my ears, heart pumping, I pushed myself further and further. Voices echoed in the corridor. My blood froze; Krennic's men. They knew I was trying to escape! Fuck them all! Did they realise they were working to the destruction of the universe? That they were creating the Death Star?
I had failed, in all manners, at sabotaging it. All my attempts blocked, I was simply not clever enough. He called me brilliant… Once said I could have done it on my own. But it wasn't true… Galen would have managed, I didn't. Worse, Krennic had suspicions.
Enraged by my own stupidity, there was only one thing I could do; flee, and find Jyn. Take her to the most remote planet of the universe, and keep her safe until… Until the empire swallowed us whole.
When had things gone so badly?
I knew exactly the moment my world shifted. When those dark fingers twitched, extending to Galen Erso. I could remember the harsh breaths of Darth Vader by my side, the blankness of that mask, the suffocating sounds beside me. And I, rooted to the spot, unable to help him as he died on his feet, his throat crushed by the Sith Lord. His eyes, when he collapsed on his knees, conveyed so many emotions. Sadness and trust, hope… Hope that I would keep my promise and treat Jyn well.
From that day, I had found myself alone once more, with only a memory of him in that holocron. His hair swept aside in that uniform he wore so well, tall and proud, the most brilliant scientist of the galaxy about to unleash a circumvoluted plan. A plan, bigger than myself, to introduce a breach in the structure. But those other teams – Galen had spent weeks cajoling them – didn't want to dance with my tune. Alone once more, I had miserably failed.
The sound of a blaster startled me … half a second before a hot, blinding pain sent me to the ground. I gasped, molten lava burning my upper back, trying to claw at the wound as I rolled about. The corridor's steel was cool to the touch, the rest of me burning. Nothing could possibly quell the searing pain, that sensation that my muscles had been pried open. Tears leaked from my eyes as I tried to regain my bearings, grunting in the effort.
When at last, I managed to focus, it was only to find a pair of black boots I knew well. Krennic's boots. His voice, that accented tone that had cajoled me in the past, echoed in my ear.
"I am soooo disappointed, Elya. I loved you like a daughter, and you betrayed me."
Fear crept up my spine, overlapping the burning of the blaster hit.
"Goodbye," he whispered.
The last thing I saw where his washed blue eyes, so cold that even the ice felt warmer. Another blast landed upon my chest, burning my uniform into my skin. Agony. I cried out, this unbearable pain seeping into my bones, burning my body to a crisp. My heart stuttered. Breathing became unbearable, but my eyes wouldn't cry anymore.
Failure, once more. Poor little Elya, growing up I the shadows of a master manipulator and a brilliant mind, taking on more than she could chew.
Little Elya was dying, hopeless, useless.
As I took my last breath, a glowing form appeared before me. Galen Erso, all light and tendrils of brightness, knelt by my side. My heart stopped, and still I watched him, mesmerised. His glowing hand landed on my cheek. The pain ebbed away, little by little.
I couldn't cry; my body was dead. What would he say?
I expected him to frown. To yell his disapproval. To call me a failure, to kick my ass. He should have yelled at me to stand my ground! To keep my promise, at the very least. Come on Elya, stand up and run!
He didn't say a thing.
I'm sorry, my eyes told him. Galen's hand caressed my dead skin, and shook his head in defeat. A shiny droplet ran along his cheekbone, a thousand suns shining within.
I shot awake, sweat trickling down my back upon the foam sarcophagus I was sleeping on. Panting, I reached for my chest, only to find my uniform shirt soaked. What the hell? A shiver racked my frame, the memory of my death too fresh in my mind. I usually wasn't plagued by bad dreams, but ever since I had left Eadu … it happened. I had never loved changes so much, and this new environment took its toll. Buried two thousand feet under the surface of that Ocean Planet didn't sit too well by me. My muscles ached and my heart was still unsettled. Blast that nightmare!
Was it the responsibility of leading the team, too heavy on my young shoulders? That dream only exposed my fear of failure, after all. I wish I could speak to Galen plainly, but our communication went through the Holonet, so we had to keep our reports boringly factual. Even if people thought we slept together, we weren't about to flaunt affection through official channels. And it wasn't soft words we wanted to trade, but war plans.
It was almost a game between us, to speak sentences than meant the exact opposite. Where "good" meant "bad", and "success" meant "failure. I could read him so well now, the gleam of alarm in his hazel eyes when things seemed to work, the twinkle of satisfaction and amusement when the Kybers refused to cooperate. The tension at the corner of his mouth when someone was watching, the overwhelming annoyance whenever Krennic asked to speak to him.
Right. I missed our moments, out of the surveillance system, where we could speak plainly. And if this dream was true, then I had overlooked how I worried that he might be uncovered in my absence. Spooked, I grabbed the dull vest of my uniform and trod along the empty corridors of the underwater base. The deep waters, a dark blue blanket, danced around us as if we didn't exist.
Below, way down, the Kybers were gently glowing. Alive, and connected through the liquid. But not charging to full capacity. Good. Another failure for the science team, another victory for us. Happy Kybers only created hum, unexploitable.
Galen would be pleased.