Loth-kitten
А неплохое начало истории! ))
“Copy you, Rogue One. We'll get it done.”
The signal went dead, and Bodhi Rook smiled. He'd done it. “This is for you, Galen,” he murmured to himself. For the first time since Bor Gullet, the thought of Galen Erso did not stir unwanted images or memories in his mind. At last he was at peace with the man who had so dramatically altered his life. He hoped that wherever he was now, Galen had also found peace.
Now to prep for evac. The team would need him soon.
He rose to head toward the ladder to the cockpit when he heard a voice, calm and clear. “Turn around. Get ready to catch.”
Too shocked to do anything but comply, Bodhi spun in time to see a small metal cylinder flying toward him. On instinct he crouched and dove, his hands outstretched, and grasped the cylinder from air.
Bodhi felt himself on the streets of NiJedha again, a boy playing ball with his friends. He couldn't keep the ball. He had to throw it toward the goal. He'd always had a good arm.
With a move trained by countless games, he propelled the cylinder out of the shuttle. His memory-addled brain only recognized it as a grenade when it exploded just before hitting the cluster of service equipment some 15 meters beyond the shuttle ramp.
He felt the heat on his skin and smelled his hair singing before crashing to metal floor with rib-cracking force.
He groaned. He hurt. That meant he was still alive.
“Get ready to fly,” said the same voice heard earlier – a voice he finally recognized.
Grunting in pain he sat up, “Chirrut?” But the blind Guardian was nowhere to be seen.
“Copy you, Rogue One. We'll get it done.”
The signal went dead, and Bodhi Rook smiled. He'd done it. “This is for you, Galen,” he murmured to himself. For the first time since Bor Gullet, the thought of Galen Erso did not stir unwanted images or memories in his mind. At last he was at peace with the man who had so dramatically altered his life. He hoped that wherever he was now, Galen had also found peace.
Now to prep for evac. The team would need him soon.
He rose to head toward the ladder to the cockpit when he heard a voice, calm and clear. “Turn around. Get ready to catch.”
Too shocked to do anything but comply, Bodhi spun in time to see a small metal cylinder flying toward him. On instinct he crouched and dove, his hands outstretched, and grasped the cylinder from air.
Bodhi felt himself on the streets of NiJedha again, a boy playing ball with his friends. He couldn't keep the ball. He had to throw it toward the goal. He'd always had a good arm.
With a move trained by countless games, he propelled the cylinder out of the shuttle. His memory-addled brain only recognized it as a grenade when it exploded just before hitting the cluster of service equipment some 15 meters beyond the shuttle ramp.
He felt the heat on his skin and smelled his hair singing before crashing to metal floor with rib-cracking force.
He groaned. He hurt. That meant he was still alive.
“Get ready to fly,” said the same voice heard earlier – a voice he finally recognized.
Grunting in pain he sat up, “Chirrut?” But the blind Guardian was nowhere to be seen.