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Bodhi survived Scarif. He got badly burned, but managed to make it. The others weren’t so lucky.
When he called for them through the comms, begging them to somehow get to the ship before he takes off, there was no response. He waited until the last possible second, adrenaline and visceral fear the only things preventing him from feeling the atrocious pain pulsing through his body. When none of the others - not Chirrut and Baze, not Jyn or Cassian, not even K2SO - showed up, Bodhi’s heart sank in his guts, weighed down by despair. He almost didn’t make the ship take off : he didn’t have anything left to live for, no family or friends or mission, he was tired and hurt and so sad he had become numb, and all he wanted to do was lay down on the cold metal floor and let the Death Star swallow him all, as it had swallowed his family and city.
But there were a couple of rebel soldiers who had managed to get to the ship on time, and he couldn’t possibly condemn them to the miserable fate he wished for himself. So with a heavy heart and blood dripping in his eyes, Bodhi dragged himself to the cockpit, and took off. They got off Scarif at the last second, the shock wave of the explosion tailing the ship on its way out.
It took months to recover physically and mentally, but after that Bodhi dedicated himself body and soul to the Rebellion. He wanted to stop the Empire, to help and save as many people as possible, so that the sacrifices of his fallen friends would not be in vain. So that the burned souls of Jedha, his Jedha, of Scarif and Alderaan may be avenged. So that, maybe, he would stop screaming himself awake every night, phantom pains eating at his face and the voices of the Rogue One crew haunting his dreams.
And finally, when Luke Skywalker blew up the Death Star, taking advantage of the plans so many people had died for, Bodhi felt hope like rarely before. It hadn’t been for nothing. Cassian, Jyn, Chirrut, Baze, K2SO and so many others - they hadn’t died for nothing. They had defeated the Death Star, at last, bringing hope to the Galaxy. Bodhi had accomplished his duty. The message he had carried had finally came through.
He became a war hero. If he wasn’t already one, after Scarif, his accomplishments within the Rebellion afterwards made him one. Pilot, spy, captain, he succeeded in many missions - and failed some. He became a legend, even (he was the Rogue One), a living symbol of hope and sacrifice. Bodhi didn’t feel like one, though. He felt older than he really was and tired, so tired. But the Empire was still alive, and he would fight them until his dying breath.
When the Empire was eventually beaten down, Bodhi felt a wave of joy and relief wash over him. He felt empty, too. Fighting them had become his only purpose in life and he didn’t know how to live normally anymore. While the others partied and celebrated outside, Bodhi got back to his room and lit up a few candles. One for each member of Rogue One. He would have wanted them to be there, alive and well and celebrating with the others. But they weren’t, so he closed his eyes and tried to picture them in the Force instead, serene and free. He had no idea what the Force looked or felt like but Chirrut had believed in it, and it was enough for him. Eventually, Bodhi came out of his room and mingled with his troops, fellow pilots and rebels clapping him on the shoulder, laughing with him and sometimes crying in his shirt. He could relate.
After the war, Bodhi settled back on Jedha, near the ashed ruins of what had once been the Holy City. New towns were emerging and growing all over the area, people rebuilding their lives as best as they could. He did the same, building his little house with his own hands, brick by brick, stone by stone. He helped his neighbors, became part of the community, and felt peace and stability for the first time in his life. Children of the area loved their Uncle Bodhi, loved his wild tales of rebellion and hope, and he opened a piloting school that quickly attracted many students. Most people weren’t repulsed by his scarred face - the war had been devastating for Jedha, tearing away not only cities, but also flesh and limbs, and he was far from being the only one whose body had suffered.
Years passed. Way too soon, the delicate peace following the fall of the Empire shattered, a new evil called the First Order slowly rising from the darkness. Bodhi was old now, wearier, and he couldn’t find in him the strength to go back to the front line. He had a husband, a good life he earned, and he felt like if he joined the Rebellion again - no, it was called the Resistance now -, he would truly lose his mind. It was already hard enough to keep the nightmares and the guilt at bay. He couldn’t do it, not again.
But if Bodhi had always been scared, he had also always been brave and selfless, so of course he helped the Resistance in his own way. He stayed on Jedha - he wanted to protect his still-recovering planet, his home, his sweet husband - but he started to train young pilots recruited by the Republic and the Resistance. He organized a network of messengers, pilots able to fly any kind of ship whose job was to gather and transmit vital information.
Still, the First Order gained influence, destroying the fragile new Jedi Order and annihilating the New Republic with another mass destruction weapon. Bodhi wasn’t Force-sensitive, but he felt the destruction of the Republic as he had felt the destruction of Jedha, as he had felt and seen Scarif go up in flames, his friends turned into ashes. History was repeating itself, and Bodhi was losing hope. What had been the point of Rogue One, if every few decades a new Death Star was born ? Who would sacrifice themselves this time, and would it even make a difference ?
However, hope was restored a few days later, when the First Order’s weapon was destroyed, and when it became known that a young ex-Stormtrooper had been the key to this victory. Bodhi’s heart swelled with emotion, and for the first time in years he left Jedha : he had to meet this man, the Stormtrooper strong enough to break conditioning, brave enough to overcome fear and obedience in order to do good.
Bodhi hadn’t realized it at the time, when he himself had defected, but if someone was brave enough to choose to do the right thing, even in the cruelest environment, then hope would never be lost. 40 years ago and encouraged by Galen Erso, Bodhi had carried this flame. And now it was Finn’s turn to be that beacon of hope, that light in the darkness. The promise that no matter where and when, people could do good and change for the better.
When Bodhi arrived at the Resistance base, Finn was still in a coma. He was stable and should wake up soon, the medics said. Bodhi sat a little by his side, struck by how young Finn was, by how vulnerable he seemed in his sleep. Had Bodhi ever been that young ? He was old and weathered now, and his troubled youth seemed so far away. His years in the Rebellion had passed in a blink, leaving him dizzy and tired, with the bitter taste of blood, ash and victory in his mouth. Still, Bodhi smiled and briefly squeezed Finn’s hand in his own, hoping to give the young man a little comfort in his sleep.
Bodhi spent the next few days speaking with various Resistance members. He caught up with Leia - when he was on Jedha they often spoke via holovids, but it had been years since he’d last seen her in person. They talked about Resistance business of course, but also about themselves. On top of Luke’s disappearance and Kylo’s vile actions, Han’s death had been almost too much for her to bear. Almost. But Leia Organa was strong and resilient, and albeit shaken, she was still standing tall. She had carried the Rebellion and then the Resistance for so many years, and was still convinced that they would set things right.
Bodhi also talked with Poe Dameron. The latter being the Resistance’s best pilot, in the past they had often communicated regarding recruits’ training and Bodhi’s network of messengers. This time though, they mostly talked about Poe firing the fatal blow to Starkiller base, and Finn’s exploits. Dameron wouldn’t shut up about him, telling every feat in great details : from freeing Poe and escaping the First Order with him, to fighting Kylo Ren in a light saber duel, nothing was spared. And Bodhi couldn’t help but smile, touched by the pilot’s genuine enthusiasm, and once again amazed by Finn’s courage. He thought about the long gone Rogue One crew, about how much they would have liked these kids.
Eventually, Finn woke up. Bodhi visited him a few days after, unwilling to crowd him more than he already was. He found Finn sitting on his medbay bed between two rehabilitation sessions. The young man looked tired but alert, a bright spark in his dark eyes.
“Hello, Finn.”
“Um. Hi ?” the young man cautiously answered.
“I’ve been wanting to talk to you for a while,” Bodhi said warmly. “I’m Bodhi. Bodhi Rook.”
“Rogue One’s pilot, right ?” Finn asked, surprised then enthusiastic. “Wow, I was reading about you just this morning. You’re one of the Rebellion’s best officers !”
Bodhi’s smile stretched with pride and sadness.
“Yes I am. But you know, before all that I was a cargo pilot working for the Empire.”
“You… worked for the Empire ?” Finn said slowly, shock written all over his face.
“Yes. And I defected.”
The young man stayed silent for a while, looking at him with more intensity than before. Then his eyes lit up, and he beamed.
“Wow, I had no idea ! That’s… that’s amazing, wow. I can’t believe they never mention that in your biographies.”
“Well, I guess it would tarnish the Rebellion’s reputation, wouldn’t it ? That one of their heroes used to be on the Empire’s side.”
“With all due respect, sir, that’s bullshit. You defected from the Empire and brought the message that allowed the Rebellion to destroy the Death Star. Hard to be more heroic than that.”
“Well, I got competition now,” Bodhi chuckled. “Mr. the ex-Stormtrooper who helped blow up Starkiller Base.”
Finn flustered, looking down at his lap.
“I’m not heroic,” he said quietly. “I’m scared all the time, and I honestly just improvise everything I do.”
“And how do you think Rogue One managed to accomplish its mission ?” Bodhi asked, putting a hand on Finn’s shoulder. “We were all terrified, especially me. We went in there blind, because time was running out and someone had to do something. And we succeeded. It cost us… many lives. But it saved so many more.”
At these words, Finn looked up at him, conflicting emotions dancing over his expressive face.
“Listen, kid,” Bodhi sighed. “Being a cargo pilot defecting from the Empire… I won’t say it was easy. It was one of the scariest, hardest things I’ve ever done in my life. And, you know… Despite some being better at hiding it than others, everyone is scared. Fear makes some people cruel, and it makes others feel powerless. But it also makes some people brave. Because choosing to do the right thing despite being threatened and scared, that’s bravery. And that’s what you did.”
A shy smile bloomed on the young man’s face.
“I guess that’s what I did.”
“Also, a Stormtrooper defecting ? That’s unheard of. You really are one of a kind.”
“Well, I hope I’m not.”
“What do you mean ?”
“I’ve been thinking… It would be great if other Stormtroopers also decided to defect. I’m not holding my breath, but I think that’s possible. I never thought I could escape the First Order, and yet here I am. I’m sure others can do it too,” Finn said with conviction, eyes filled with fire and hope.
Bodhi smiled warmly.
“I think you’re right.”