Cassian Andor (rebelspy) wrote in dunhavenic, @ 2019-02-25 23:28:00 |
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Entry tags: | !log, r * laura, r: diego rojas |
WHO: Diego Rojas
WHEN: tonight, 2/25
WHERE: Diego & Grace's bedroom
SUMMARY: Diego remembers a couple of Cassian's rebel friends. [aka Laura has some headcanons she's been dying to include, feat. Poe's parents]
”Hey, Andor!” Cassian spent little time on base, and when he did, he often kept to himself. Unlike the legions of pilots and mechanics, who all seemed to know each other and who all developed a rapport, his job required a different touch. It required privacy, it required subtlety, it required discretion. The more people who knew him, the more opportunities there were for his covers to be blown. (Not that he thought many rebels would do that on purpose, but … one could never be too careful.) The more known he was, the more difficult it was for him to disappear. It was a trait that none of the higher-ups had to spend much time cultivating in him, and that was how he’d climbed the ranks so quickly. (And, truthfully, how he’d survived for so long when the same missions had gotten the best of other spies.) There were a few exceptions, though. One was in the shape of a pilot named Shara Bey. Despite Cassian’s best efforts to melt into the background on base, Shara could always pick him out of a crowd. He’d met her through her husband Kes, after they’d worked together in the field, and the pair of them had -- slowly, slowly, slowly -- become two of the only people Cassian actually stopped to speak to. More often than not, it was just one and not both. Their schedules, Cassian quickly learned, kept them apart for weeks, months at a time. The last thing he’d ever wanted to do was get in the way of their few hours together. He turned in response to the voice and was surprised to see both of them sitting at a table in the mess hall. Kes lifted a hand in a wave, as if Cassian hadn’t seen him, and Cassian found his feet taking him across the floor in their direction even though he knew he shouldn’t. These sorts of attachments -- they worked for some people, but they weren’t supposed to be for him. “Long time no see, man,” Kes greeted him, clapping a hand on his shoulder. Shara’s laugh was bright, full of more joy than anything else in the grubby base the Alliance called home. “If Andor had it his way, we’d never see him.” That was true, and all three of them knew it -- though Kes and Shara never took it personally, which Cassian appreciated. It wasn’t personal, not really. At the end of the day, Cassian did what he had to do in order to do his job. That was what they all did. The sooner they could end the war, the sooner they could all get on with their lives. That was the goal, wasn’t it? “I’m on leave for the night,” Kes continued. “We’re drinking tonight. Might even play a game of sabacc. You in?” His friends (could he call them friends, now?) looked at him with expectant faces, mirroring each other’s hope. He could see why they’d fallen in love with each other. Why they were still devoted to each other, even when the stars kept them apart. They didn’t know that he could beat the best of them at sabacc. He should say no, just for that, but instead, he smiled, faintly. They could find out the hard way. “I’ll be there.” The darkness of his and Grace’s bedroom filled his vision when he woke, and he was surprised by how content he felt. His dreams of Cassian had been full of distressing moments -- violence and bombs and the recruitment of children for a war, morally questionable acts performed by Cassian’s hands in the name of something greater than all of them. He’d seen the end of it all -- not because he’d dreamt it, but because he’d seen it come alive on a television screen as he sat beside his brother. He’d assumed that most of Cassian’s life was filled with darkness, with pain and loneliness and the company of a robot. He’d been wrong. There were people who cared about him, beyond the members of Rogue One. Dameron. He knew that name. He knew it belonged to another -- someone who was just a small boy in the dream, with no inkling of what was to come. Diego rolled over and plucked his phone from the bedside table. He pulled up the text messages from his brother and began typing in a message only to delete it over and over, unable to find the right way to explain what it was he’d seen. Cassian knew Poe’s parents. They were friends. Poe’s parents were good and warm and they felt like home in a world where Cassian felt adrift. And then he paused. He should tell Mateo in person, so he began a new message: Lunch tomorrow? I can swing by your office. Let me know. When he closed his eyes again, Diego tried to bring the faces of Kes and Shara back and tried to focus on their voices. He’d seen so few good moments of Cassian’s life; he would cling to that one as hard as he could. |