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[More and more it was looking like this Galen fellow was a person that could be exploited. Not that it wasn't painfully obvious before, but having that fact cemented made things a little bit easier. He should have felt guilty about thinking that way, but desperate times and all.]

My suggestion, if you have not tried already, is to try and harness steam power. That seems to be closer to what the locals rely on outside of emotion.

Could you tell me a little bit more about Dr. Erso? I'm afraid I didn't have the chance to meet him during my time on Coruscant.

[He was quiet for a moment at Qui-Gon's question, his hand tightening on the other man's shoulder for a moment. Galen's death had hit him hard, he was still processing it.]

Galen was...brilliant. There is no other word for it, there is no one like him in the galaxy. [His voice was fond but there was a hard edge to it as he continued.] I did everything for him, no one understood him like I did. No one did the things I did for him.

I see.

[Qui-Gon's shoulders dip a bit as he listens to Krennic, taken aback at the man's sudden vulnerability. He'd heard snippets about Galen before thanks to their wine session, but never with such deep emotion. This was a man in mourning.]

[That compassion began to rear its head again, and rather than smile and nod as originally planned, Qui-Gon's interest pushed him into more active listening.]

'Was'.

May I ask if he's passed?

He was killed when rebels bombed an Imperial research facility.

[He had to close his eyes, he could still smell the smoke, taste the bile in the back of his throat which threatened to well up at the memory. He had thought he was going to throw up on the shuttle when they pulled away from Eadu, his stomach still lurched at the thought.]

He was a scientist, passionate about his work. He could get lost for hours, just...off in his own world.

[And he had often loved to watch Galen deep in thought, letting him wander in his own realm since he always came back with something special.]

[So a casualty of war. A war that Krennic himself was an active participant in, even if closer to the backend of things, as far as Qui-Gon could tell.]

[He's not entirely on the up-and-up with the whole Death Star thing.]

You truly admired him.

[Understatement.]

More than anyone else.

[Even more than the Emperor. He wanted to to be close to Palpatine as well but no one could replace Galen.]

There is no one else like him, Qui-Gon. I hope he is at peace but every day I wait for him here, if just to hear his voice again one more time, to see him lost in his own world.

[Qui-Gon stayed silent for a few moments, absorbing everything and doing his best to provide a sympathetic ear to Krennic's grief.]

[Despite keeping his identity hidden from the Imperial, Qui-Gon couldn't help but try and impart some Jedi inspired wisdom.]

In my experience, committing oneself to chasing a memory has had adverse consequence.

It's all right to miss your companion, but don't let it consume you.

If I could let him go, I would.

[He felt that tear at him- he knew that he couldn't wallow forever but he still clung to every bit of Galen that he could, every memory.

He looked at Qui-Gon, his expression showing the grief he carried with him every day.]

Have you lost anyone, Qui-Gon? Someone who you cannot remember what your life was like before them?

[Qui-Gon considered Krennic's words with the sobriety they deserved, mulling over his own experiences with dealing with the deaths of those he truly cared for.]

[There were many, and a couple of deaths in particular weighed heavy on his heart, but his answer remained resolute.]

I've lost people dear to me, but to honor them, I do not obsess over them.

It can feel like a betrayal to their memory, but I've come to realize the true betrayal is to allow their memory to rule over everything I do. None of them would want that for me.

Sometimes it seems as if I'm still processing his death. As if I'll turn around there he will be as he always has been. As if he didn't die in the rain.

[He paused, having to close his eyes for a moment as he tried to block out that memory.]

How long did it take until you didn't feel as if you were betraying them? That you could start to let go? Because it's been months and the pain is still there.

However long it takes for me has no bearing on how long it would take for you.

Some recover after only days, others recover after months. What is important, however, is that progress is made during that time.

[He arches his eyebrow at Krennic before continuing.]

And that effort is made to ensure said progress happens.

So one day at a time.

[He finally let go of Qui-Gon as they reached his house. He felt strangely at peace for the moment and for a moment he could start to see it may be possible to start to accept that Galen was dead and gone. He knew he had to start to let go.]

I will consider this. Thank you, Qui-Gon, I appreciate it. Would you like a glass of wine? It's the least I could do.

I'm afraid I must decline.

[Qui-Gon steps away and gives Krennic some space, not to the point where it's offensive, but tastefully straddling the line between respectful and clear.]

I have people waiting for me at home--a child included. It would be irresponsible to be away too long.

Of course, I shall not keep you from your child longer.

[He stepped away towards the door before turning to Qui-Gon.]

Another time then, I insist.

Thank you, and I'm sure he thanks you as well.

[He smiles easily, not bothering to correct Krennic's interpretation of his exact relation to Lune. It's tough to explain the habitants of the Jedi House without going into the whole Force-sensitive thing.]

[That being said, he'd have to explain quite a couple of 'kids' should Krennic ever pop up out of the blue.]

Until then.

Edited 2017-07-12 22:22 (UTC)

Until then.

[He returned the smile, he appreciated Qui-Gon's company for the short period and he made a note to find the other man some time to repay him with a bottle of nice wine or something.

He watched Qui-Gon leave for a moment before going into his house to look for his pillow.]

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