…. rogue one?

notbecauseofvictories:

• In another world, Rogue One makes it off Scarif, and then proceeds to make everyone in the Rebellion regret letting this bunch of assholes a) meet one another, b) form a “team” in the sense that they refuse to be assigned to missions with anyone outside their little circle, and c) pretend they are actual functioning soldiers and rebels and not a roving ball of trauma.
• Cassian and Bodhi once got into a shouting match in the mess hall, and Draven is only about sixty-five percent sure what happened there—they started screaming at each other in their native languages, and Kaytoo refused to translate afterwards.
• Jyn keeps stealing shit, which should have been fine. (She’s hardly the first to try and lay hands on everything that she can, as though to prove to herself she’s still here, and alive.) Except it’s not silverware or dice she’s stealing. She keeps…getting into mainframes and prying up the expansion cards, or hoarding datapads with important Rebellion files, and then lying, point-blank, even when presented irrefutable evidence of her theft. It drives Mon Mothma crazy.
• Baze and Chirrut deny everything, and are impossible to crack. When pressed, they’ll start talking to one another like the interrogator isn’t in the room, commentary on the bags beneath her eyes or his hair. Eventually, the Rebel leadership stops asking questions altogether.
• The first mission is, of course, an unparalleled disaster. What was supposed to be a surreptitious extraction turns into a high-speed chase through

  Untelmar City, with Jyn whooping as she picks off Imperial troopers, and Cassian sounding something almost like delighted, telling the Queen of Naboo to relax and stop crying. Even Bodhi laughs shakily as they break atmosphere, his knuckles white around the yoke. 

• Kaytoo turns his head, and surveys them, unblinking. “Well,” he says dryly. “That was exciting. Is everyone all right? Protein complexes in the right places?”
• “Is it usually like this?” the Queen asks Baze. She’s trembling, and so he pats her shoulder. Just behind her, Baze catches Chirrut’s eye, and Chirrut shrugs.
  “Yes,” Baze answers.
• The second mission is worse.
• The third makes Mon Mothma put her head down on the council-table and breathe deeply, counting one-Coruscanti-two-Coruscanti-three-Coruscanti.
• The fourth, everybody settles down some, mostly because the fourth is walking through the ashes of Jedha. Afterwards, Chirrut and Baze sit very close together, and Bodhi keeps glancing at them over his shoulder—
• It’s Jyn who reaches over and presses on Kaytoo’s hand, forcing the transport to list right. “I know a place,” she says softly as they turn the wrong way down a hyperspace tunnel. “Somewhere we can get away. My—Saw used to hide out there.”
• Even Cassian looks relieved when Kaytoo says he is adjusting course.
• They go AWOL for two weeks, only to reappear on Yavin tanned and easier, a tension gone from their shoulders. Even Cassian looks calmer, and when Mon Mothma asks him where, he says simply, “That is not my secret to tell.”
• Bodhi turns up at Cassian’s door one night, his eyes wide. “I dreamed we were dead,” he says without preamble. “I dreamed…” 
  “Yeah, I know,” Cassian says, and ushers him in. 
• (It is not the first time. It is not the last. Cassian has gotten used to people sleeping on blankets on the floor beside his bunk, accustomed to the sound of breathing. Jyn comes and goes like a manka cat, and Baze doesn’t sleep—Kaytoo’s internal fans hum as he powers down. Cassian’s not sure why his rooms have been designated as the safest space, but it’s probably whatever warped logic led to Cassian Andor being the leader of Rogue One in the first place.)
• “Remember,” Cassian says once to Kaytoo, “when it was just you and me?” Out of the viewport, he can see Jyn and Chirrut laughing about something, probably one of the new recruits—some hot-shot pilot kid, who killed the Death Star. (Bodhi says that he’s lovesick over the Princess Organa, which Cassian has to admit is extremely funny. He remembers Senator Organa, that kid’s got a shot in hells.)
• “Yes,” Kaytoo says, not pausing in his preliminary checks. “I remember. You were unhappy.”
  “I wasn’t unhappy,” Cassian says. He might say more, but then Baze comes into the cockpit and asks him whether they’ll takeoff soon—Cassian smiles thinly, and Baze returns it, ruffling Cassian’s hair like a fond uncle. Offers to tell the others, and claps Cassian’s shoulder, once, twice.
• “No of course not,” Kaytoo mutters, “you were ecstatic.” He finishes the checks himself.