So, my sister challenged me to write a story from the point of view of a First Order trooper. I accepted, worked on this for about a day, and this appeared. This is, however, a one-shot. Apologies for it being short.
EDIT: Thanks to the Lone Rebel for pointing out an error in this. *Clapping* Speaking of her, if anyone wants to see pure fluff at it's finest, go and check out any out of her stories.
A solitary loth-cat sliced a straight path through the golden wheat, it's path only illuminated by the amber light that the sun left as it sank down through the sky and slowly put the world to sleep. FN-9979 looked at it as it crossed his path, smiling slightly underneath his helmet at the small image of freedom. A small Rebellion symbol was cut into the side of it's fur; a sign for Resistance sympathizers to get out of the base. Normally, this was a sign that an attack was coming, so it was a major red flag for any First Order trooper.
Not for FN-9979. It was his opportunity. He wasn't like his brethren, brainwashed and unaware. He was, for lack of a better word, sentient. He didn't believe the idea that the Resistance was a bunch of savages, incapable of intelligent thought. He believed they were just as human as any First Order trooper, even though there were several different species within the Resistance. He had seen Resistance troopers under fire as they tried to save innocent lives and he knew that their medics saved everyone they could, friendly or not. The thought made him chuckle a small bit; he himself had been saved by a Resistance medic a year ago, during the Battle for Lothal. Of course, the Resistance movement was still strong here, and with good reason; the twin legends Ezra and Sabine Bridger lived here. So far, they had done nothing to aggravate the Order, so they were left to their own devices. But they were like wild foxes; never truly tame, always ready to slip the leash and throw off their oppressors.
And they certainly saw the First Order as oppressors. Several of Mrs. Bridger's paintings had anti-First Order meanings behind them, such as her Phoenix of Hosnian Prime, a painting of her view of Hosnian Prime as it was blasted away by Starkiller Base. She was lucky to escape the system just before it crumbled into space-dust. The painting showed a large planet fragmenting into the rough shape of a phoenix, highlighted by streaks of red. Another of her paintings was titled The Starkiller, and it was simply a First Order stormtrooper. When she was confronted about the image, she stated it was an honor to be called Starkiller.
It was night now, with a sky full of stars. The small lothcat ran off, leaving FN-9979 to stay and contemplate his choices. As such, the sergeant of the guard startled him.
"FN-9979, is anything stirring?"
"Just a loth-cat, commander. Nothing to be worried about."
"So, you can't see any human beings? No Resistance attack today, eh?"
"No, sir. It's all quiet," FN-9979 cheerfully lied. "Not a soul out there."
Twenty minutes later, a Resistance fighter accepted the blaster of FN-9979.