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[ The network ID attached to this one says "Commander Jeroen Akobi," advertising his military rank even though he forewent the Imperial uniform just about as soon as he was set loose upon this planet. Instead, there appears a handsome man in his forties in smart casual attire, haircut just the long side of regulation, facial hair game on point. He's got an affable smile on his face, though it doesn't quite reach his eyes. ]

These jobs they assign you when you arrive are a joke, right? I mean, I'm no specialist, but I've got more marketable skills than "mustache model." Are there any procedures in place for putting in a request for a new position? Because posing for pictures might be a good way to make some side money, but I'd prefer something that actually requires some thought and effort.

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There's a long road between wanting to be friends and telling someone it would be better if they were dead.

[ what do you expect? the lives you and your like have destroyed or taken? all the things he himself has seen done first hand, been complicit in by his silence and inaction ... ]

And do you honestly feel differently about us?

I don't actively wish any Rebels dead, no. Not even the one responsible for killing me.

[ As far as he was concerned, everyone in the galaxy had a right to live. They just... should live under the Empire's rule. ]

Edited 2018-11-19 18:42 (UTC)

[ he's not as incensed as he could be, but ]

The Empire hasn't just cost some their lives, but their families, homes - an entire planet. Maybe not you personally, but it's not as if there's no reason for distrust. Or anger towards you and that thing you're still standing for.

[ Sorry, Bodhi. You are perhaps not the person who deserves this, but after speaking to Rebel after Rebel, this is what you get. ]

I'm not here to answer for the actions of the entire Empire in war. I'm not here for any reason, besides the fact that some over-powered "porter" entity decided I should be.

War has casualties. On both sides. And, unfortunately, those caught in between. I have done everything in my power to prevent civilian casualties on the planets where I was stationed. You don't have to believe that. But it doesn't make it any less true. If you would take the time to ask me, I would tell you my track record gladly.

I am one man. I am not representative of the Empire's war machine. And it is unfair to treat me as such and hold me personally responsible for actions I took no part in.

[ like Akobi, it's not even entirely him he's angry with - but as much as he'd like to stay angry, or lay that blame at the man's feet... he can't. because there's a solid point in there. ]

Did you know? About the planet killer - about Jedha and Alderaan? [ it might've come after his time, but he's been told of that, even now it's hard to believe. ] An entire planet, and a city - both gone.

[ Akobi takes a deep breath and recollects his composure. ]

I'm not about to pretend I didn't know what the DS-1 was built to do. Yes, I knew it was a weapon. And I knew it was built to destroy planets.

But as of my last briefing, the weapon had not been fired outside of one test firing on a derelict Star Destroyer. I have since learned about the fate of Alderaan, though this is the first I'm hearing about Jedha.

Alderaan, I didn't know about either. Not till after I got here.

Yeah, well. It happened. [ an entire city, gone in an instant. he turns away, angrily. ] I was far away enough to make it off the planet in time, but only one of a few. And I can show you the memory, if you don't believe me.

What do you mean, "show me" the memory?

[ Is this a Jedi trick of some kind? Or just another strange power from the porter? ]

It's a porter given ability. Called psychometry. Means I can see memories of others through touch. And if I'm not mistaken, I can also show others my own.

[ Interesting. More useful, Akobi thinks, than the powers he's been given. Touch basis means they'll have to meet in person, though.

He looks the feed from prying eyes. ]

I would be willing to meet you. Not because I don't believe you, but as a show of good faith.

[ Hmm. A show of good faith...

If he's extending this offer, then perhaps he's serious. About what he'd meant before. Bodhi gives it thought, before turning on the device to reply. ]

Alright, then.

Where would you like to meet?

Would you be opposed to a public place? A park, or a café?

Cafe. There's an outdoor one in De Chima. [ location and name here ]

Do you have any issue with dogs?

I don't. [ He'd had a pet when he was young. Never had the opportunity to, once he'd enrolled in the Academy, but he remembered those days fondly. ]

I'll meet you there in an hour. If that works for you. [ The caveat added belatedly, as though he just realized he'd given this man an order and thought better of it. ]

Er, yes. It does, I mean. See you soon. [ An hour is plenty enough time to feel anxious about this meeting, but Bodhi oddly... doesn't. So at the proposed hour, he's looking around the outdoor tables in the chosen meeting place.

Wearing a hooded sweater that doesn't look like it belongs to him for it's size, with a large husky-german shepherd mix at his side. ]

[ Akobi is already there, wearing a nondescript suit and a pair of sunglasses, the later of which he removes when he recognizes the man from the network. He waves him over to his table. ]

Thank you for meeting with me.

Of course. I was a little bit surprised you offered, if I'm honest. [ He takes a seat across from Akobi, Ace flopping down at his feet. Bodhi gives the dog a scratch behind the ears then turns back to the matter. ]

Did you want to order something or should we get this going right off?

You shouldn't be. I've found myself on uneven footing here, a bit behind the others from our galaxy who've been here longer. It's only natural I should want to catch myself up.

[ He can already foresee the need to do a lot of research. ]

I've ordered a black coffee. You can get something for yourself, if you like.

Fair enough. I've been here ... a year and a half now. [ He's been caught up on a lot of things that happened after his death, too but it depends on how much Akobi wants secondhand knowledge from a defector.

He nods, quickly excuses himself to order a double chocolate chip scone and coffee, suitably sweetened as well as a peanut butter biscuit for Ace. Bodhi returns with said items nd sits back down a few short minutes later. ]

So. This is... pretty simple. It's just done through physical contact, could be just - a touch on the arm. Doesn't have to be us holding hands, or anything like that.

[ Akobi sips his coffee and waits for Bodhi to return. When he does, he sets his drink aside and listens carefully to what he has to say, ]

Alright. [ He extends an arm across the table, hand outstretched. Bodhi can touch him however he lkes to begin the process. ]

[ Bodhi nods, takes a deep breath. His hesitation here is less to do with the Imperialness, but reliving the event. Even now, more than a year later he still dreams of watching his home obliterated and not being able to stop it. A feeling of helplessness unmatched even to Saw Gerrera's torture.

He reaches out and touches Akobi's wrist, concentrating on the moment.

Maybe, Bodhi thought, just maybe his torment was over.

He recognized some of the faces running with him. There were whole crowds behind Baze and Chirrut, clattering through the stone hallways with riffles and duffels slung over their shoulders. Among them were Bodhi's captors, the men and women who'd bound him, blinded him, marched him at gunpoint across the desert when he'd begged simply to help them. They didn't look at him now, didn't seem to see him. He pushed his aching legs and cold lungs harder to pace.

"They'll kill us," he whispered to Baze. "You don't know these people."

Baze laughed so hard that Bodhi was terrified the rebels would look back. They kept running.

"Forgive my friend," Chirrut said. "You would think it's funny too, if you knew he wanted you dead, most of all."

Bodhi didn't think that was funny in the slightest. But a rescue was a rescue.

They ran out of the catacombs, up ancient steps worn smooth over centuries, and burst into the frigid dawn. Sunlight slashed through Bodhi's eyes with cuts of blue and green and silver. He couldn't recall when he'd last seen sunlight, though Bor Gullet would have known.

He staggered to a stop behind Baze and Chirrut standing on a broad mountain ledge overlooking a valley. The rebels were gone, scattered somewhere. In the valley there was nothing but dust, a billowing, blooming storm of sand, expanding outward in all directions.

"What do you see?" Chirrut asked Baze.

Bodhi blinked away the scars of light. When his eyes had adjusted, he realized the valley was now too dim. He raised his stiff neck and looked to the sky, and saw a shadow like a moon eclipsing the sun.

Realizations crashed together. Bodhi was on Jedha, had never left Jedha, and he was looking onto the valley where the Holy City had been. And above him, in the sky...

"No," he whispered. "No."

This was not a rescue. This was a trick of Bor Gullet. This was the reason he had left the Empire, abandoned his friends, trusted the words of Galen Erso, suffered torment and humiliation -- to stop the battle station, stop the planet killer from coming to life. What he saw was not real. It could not be.

"It wasn't supposed to happen yet," he whispered, though no one listened. He was too late. This was his fault. ]

[ At a certain point Akobi just rips his hand away. He gets as far as watching the horizon rise up in a cloud of dust and ash, the thoughts about leaving the Empire, the feeling of blame. It's too much. It's all far too much.

He withdraws his hand sharply, cradling it against his chest as though the touch had burned. It may as well have, for all the pain Akobi feels now. The loss, the grief, the shame. He knew what the DS-1 was built to do, but it was always other planets, Rebel planets. Not his home. He can picture how it would feel if he were standing in Demilla City, watching the Ralltiri skyline fragment and burn away.

It was too much. He clears his throat, grasping in his mind for something to pull the conversation away from the memories of death and destruction. ]

You... You defected.

[ He doesn't say anything during the brief exchange, and even after Akobi tears his hand away. Bodhi knows what he saw, what he felt. The shadow of those very same feelings and images still linger after he shoves the memory down.

Sand whipping past him - he takes a drink of his coffee to wash the taste of it in his mouth before replying.

Of course he knew that might get picked up upon - but Bodhi squares his shoulders nonetheless. Him being a defector isn't unknown. Most everyone from their galaxy here is aware, from them knowing of him, or he's told them. It's just difficult not to worry, despite Akobi saying he's not interested in the fight, there aren't many things an Imperial hates more than a traitor.

And he's already had someone take it out on him..

Yet, it's already out in the open. ]

I did, yes. I was a cargo pilot. When I found out about the weapon, I couldn't -- I chose to leave. A man by the name of Galen Erso wanted me to deliver a message, to give to the Rebellion, to warn them of it.

[ For all the good it did... too late for Jedha. ]

[ Akobi picks up his coffee cup to take a sip, trying to steady his still shaking hands. The hot liquid burns his tongue, but the immediate pain feels better than the lingering memory of fear from the vision. It's grounding, in its own way.

He's quiet for a long moment after Bodhi's explanation, before he makes a decision to share his own story in return. It's only fair. ]

You're a far braver man than I. I... knew about the weapon. What it was designed to do. I knew about the atrocities the Empire committed-- that I helped commit. And the way the Empire covered them up. And still, I did nothing. Until it was too late.

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