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In one life, Cassian dies on the sands of Scarif beach, consumed by hot white light. He dies holding Jyn, not knowing if any of the others survived, just that they accomplished their job, and someone will get a chance at life, even if it isn’t him.
As the wall of death approaches, he tightens his arms around Jyn and thinks, If I could only have another chance. And he doesn’t have time to pursue the thought, but if he had, he would have dismissed it anyway, because it is too foolish to even hope for. It’s something he knows he’ll never have.
You only get one shot at life.
~
In another life, Cassian doesn’t join the rebellion. Instead, he is a simple citizen, and gets a job bartending at Mos Eisley Cantina.
He’s good at his job, and the customers like him. Some of the locals come back just to talk to him, and he make sure to learn about them and ask after their wives and children and the moisture farms. He attends the pod races and keeps an eye on the rebellion, but the Empire can’t really reach him out here, so he mostly ignores it.
He sees a lot of customers come through in a day, smugglers, spies, soldiers, cargo pilots.
On this particular day, he sees the pilot out of the corner of his eye, wearing a typical uniform with dark hair and big eyes. It’s just a glimpse as he’s helping another customer—and in a blinding flash he recognizes him, knows everything they did together in a different lifetime.
He remembers.
“Bodhi,” he blurts, without thinking it through.
Rather than returning the joyful remembering smile, Bodhi jumps and stares at Cassian warily.
“Yes?” he says softly, hesitantly.
“I—do I—” Cassian’s stuck, doesn’t know what to say. How is Bodhi not feeling this, this flood of recognition and memory and an entire lifetime in less than two seconds, a reverse explosion of pieces falling together. How can he not remember Jyn, Kay, Chirrut Baze.
“Do I know you?” Bodhi asks.
“Saw your name on your uniform,” Cassian mumbles, grateful that the name is actually on the uniform.
“Oh,” Bodhi says, relieved. “Can I just get a Fozbeer?”
“Sure,” Cassian mutters, and turns to get the drink. When he slides it across the counter, he says, “You ever fly though Jedha?”
Bodhi’s eyes get wider over his cup, and Cassian feels in his gut he’s scaring the poor boy.
“Yeah—yeah, it’s my home.”
“You wouldn’t happen to know a few friends of mine would you? Baze Malbus and Chirrut Imwe?”
Bodhi pulls his drink away from his mouth with an expression of suspicion. “No. No, I don’t, and I think I’d better go.”
“Wait—” It’s all Cassian can do to stop himself from reaching out and grabbing Bodhi’s arm.
Bodhi shakes his head and backs away, then nearly jogs out of the bar.
Cassian sets his rag on the counter, eyeing Bodhi’s untouched drink and wishing he could down it and few other stronger choice brews. He nods at his boss and steps into the hot sun to take a break.
Through the crowd, he catches a glimpse of Bodhi’s ponytail, bobbing away toward the ship dock.
~
In another life, Cassian’s life ends when he’s deep in Imperial territory and encounters a droid. His droid, he realizes, and that’s when he slips up and K2S0 shoots him.
~
In another life, Cassian’s father was a senator, and Cassian was raised in the lap of excellence. He learned politics and discretions before he learned the alphabet, and when his father joined the rebellion, Cassian stayed behind as a spy, pretending to disdain his father.
He goes to Jedha to oversee the descruction of Saw Gerrera (except, of course he will really be screwing up all the troop’s efforts while making it look like it was their fault) and as he moves through the city he sees Baze and Chirrut, still guarding the monastery.
He wonders if there is any life where they don’t guard the monastery.
He wonders if there is any life where they’re not together.
He kills his own soldier quietly and with no mess, and mourns briefly. He had known that man.
“Usually you try to kill the other people, not your own soldier,” Chirrut says.
Cassian stammers. He never knows what to say to Chirrut.
“Or perhaps it is time to reveal yourself,” say Chirrut again.
“That is the plan,” says Cassian.
“I wonder how many times you will have to do this,” Chirrut says, and Cassian doesn’t know if he means kill his own men or relive over and over and over again.
Honestly, if Chirrut knew, Cassian wouldn’t even blink.
Baze emerges out of the shadows. “Are you ready, soldier?”
Cassian gives him a nod. “Are you with me?”
“Of course,” he says.
(In the end, they still die, whether on Scarif or Jedha or flying through space.)
~
In another life, Saw Gerrera gets to Cassian before the rebellion does, and Cassian grows up next to the love of his life.
He and Jyn are an unstoppable team, the best spies, the best assassins, the best Empire-destroyers.
Once he almost tells her that they’ve lived over and over, but he somehow feels it might jinx the fact that she’s here with him. Instead he kisses her after every successful mission and clings to her with every fiber of his being.
She loves him, too. And if they manage to survive all this, they will grow old together.
~
In another life, Cassian wakes to Jyn’s warm body in his bed despite the biting air. He drags himself out of bed and pokes Jyn until she follows.
“I don’t like getting up,” she grumps.
“I don’t like being cold,” he grumps back, pulling on a third jacket.
She rolls her eyes at him.
In the (cold, freezing, icey) mess hall, Bodhi sits across from Baze and Chirrut as they eat whatever the (chilled, impossible to warm) rations were.
“Good morning, soldier,” Baze rumbles, extending an arm to Jyn, who slowly lets herself receive a hug. She is learning, learning to open, to love.
“There is restlessness in the force today,” said Chirrut, as though announcing the weather forecast (cold, always cold). “It will be a busy day.”
Kay clanks up, still adjusting to his new body. His backup drive had last been updated before Scarif, and he still didn’t trust Jyn, but he would. He would. “Cassian,” he said. “Luke Skywalker is still recovering. General Draven also wishes to brief you.”
“Thank you, Kay,” he says. “I’ll get right on that.” He remains sitting by Jyn at the table.
He thought they would die on Scarif, die again, relive the white hot beach, but instead their ships had swung in last minute and saved them all. Cassian knows it’s once-in-a-thousand-lifetimes chance.
Really, any lifetime is a once-in-a-thousand-lifetimes chance. Better make each one good.
Sitting by Jyn, he thinks, Yes, any life is once in a thousand. But I’ll take this one any day.
Just then, alarm klaxons begin to blare and orders are given to mobilize. As his friends begin to move, Cassian presses a kiss to Jyn’s temple and sprints to the hangars through the cold Hoth air.