Sulerii was a brutally warm planet, close to its sun, with a hazardous atmosphere for most oxygen-breathing lifeforms. The native Ilkhoy found it just as difficult to traverse other worlds, and they relied on visitors from elsewhere to sustain them with novelty, tales of gallantry and defiance from the stars they viewed through elongated, yellow eyes as they waved their tails at the heavens. In exchange, they offered respite in their underground caverns, where the mix of gases was more regulated by droids, and intimidating natural defenses against anyone foolhardy enough to attack.
That was where the Resistance had found itself sheltered, in hollow cities where generations of wanderers had passed through. They traded their stories and burrowed deeper into the hot soil. Poe confessed the blind risks he'd taken, Kaydel sung of her faith in Leia even in their darkest hours, Rey called to mind the unending green of Takodana, and the Ilkhoy gasped, in awe or because their air mask settings weren't set right.
One morning below the surface dawned a little cooler than the rest, and Rose checked the data screen. "It's their winter solstice," she smiled. "Their year is so short, it's already at the longest night of its orbit. From now on the days will get brighter."
"Does it make a difference down here?" Finn asked.
"Not really," said Rose. "But I always like celebrating it."
"Any excuse we can get, I guess."
She paused, then shrugged. "My birthday is on the winter solstice. Not here, obviously, but my homeworld. That's how I learned to remember—so when the days started getting long again, no matter where I was, I would have something to be happy for that was mine."
Had Paige taught her that? Afraid the First Order would separate them in some abduction run? "That's sweet."
"When's yours?"
"Uh. What?"
"Your birthday?"
"I don't, uh, have one."
"Oh," Rose winced. "I'm sorry, I'm an idiot—"
"No you're not," Finn interrupted. He looked around, and noticed that nobody else was in earshot of the data screen. "Once a year, I think it was the capital calendar, they would make us all take these physicals. Depending on your scores you would get promoted between squadrons. So we didn't all stay in the same place and develop camaraderie too long, I figure." Rose nodded, eyes wide. "If you failed—well, we never really heard about the ones who failed. So I'm not too big on anniversaries."
"They didn't give you names, either. That doesn't mean it's too late to change."
"Names cost nothing," said Finn. "If we make it another year, that'll be something to celebrate."
"You too noble to have a day to receive something for once?"
"One day's as good as the next," Finn said.
"We'll see about that," Rose said, then paced off to start weapons inspection.
She kept it in the back of her mind as days blurred into whatever passed for months on the moonless world; holding onto some goal for no objective other than the happiness of someone she cared about made the intervening days, tedium interspersed with terror, manageable. When she spoke with Rey, both of them commiserating about the fragile state of the Millennium Falcon's hyperdrive, she asked carefully, "I don't suppose you had much in the way of birthday celebrations out on Jakku?"
"I had what I made," Rey said offhandedly. "The first time I filled up this—well, I had a calendar, kind of, a list of days. The first time I got to the end of a row, I figured, that day was mine. I asked, and it was the sixteenth of Litsin. So, that's my day."
"Huh," Rose smiled. "Did you get to do anything fun?"
"Not when I was little. When I got bigger, I'd try to explore somewhere where I hadn't been before—not for anything useful, just for the thrill of it. When I was...twelve, I think, I found a bandana and a new canteen, and two years later I found a piece of metal that sounded kind of like an organ box when I blew into it."
"Well," said Rey. "The sixteenth of Litsin, I'll bear that in mind."
Rey, to her credit, just changed the subject to the cargo bay, without dismissing the probability they'd make it that long.
The others—Kaydel and Poe and everyone (Rose had learned all their names, and hated the fact it was so easy)—all had their own lives. Some harder than others, but all had chosen resistance because they felt it the best path forward. And all still remembered enough of themselves to honor, even if they thought nobody else was watching.
("I have no recollection," C-3PO informed her sternly, "it's not fit for one such as myself to remember its earliest operations. My gracious, do you? When one thinks of the things small humans do...highly improper.")
Chewbacca growled and seemed to point at the captain's quarters. "He said his is the fourth of Wisnuk, but at his age he'd just be embarrassed by any party you...uh, we kids could throw," translated Rey.
"Well, he shouldn't be," said Rose.
"You should go talk to Leia."
"I can't talk to General Organa!"
"We're in a war, she's your commanding officer, I hope you can talk to her."
"Oh you know what I mean."
Rey blinked. "No I don't."
"It's different for you, you're a Jedi."
"And you're—"
"I'm not anyone," Rose said, before Rey could make up something patronizing.
"You've seen our numbers," Rey said. "Everyone's someone now. More than someone. We have to be."
Before Rose could reply, Chewbacca had rapped on Organa's door, and she'd poked her head out. "Is everything all right?"
"I'm fine!" Rose quickly answered. Chewbacca yawned, and Rey glanced around between them.
"My birthday?" Organa said quietly. "It's—the first of Eimol."
"I'm sorry if it's a sore point."
"No, not that. It's just—growing up, the galaxy had to observe that as the anniversary of the founding of the Galactic Empire. Of course at home...my parents did the minimum possible, as public figures, to remain dignified, but it was always with gritted teeth. It took me a few years to understand."
"Well," said Rey. "If we didn't have enough reasons to fight, better make sure no future children have their birthdays overshadowed by First Order Day."
Chewbacca clapped her on the back, and they walked off.
"I don't expect anything special," Organa said. "Why do you ask?"
"It's Finn," Rose said, and found herself relating bits and pieces of his story.
"Well," Organa said, "I'm used to sharing my festivities, and it would be a welcome change of pace to celebrate with someone like Finn. He's welcome to the first of Eimol."
Rose broke into a smile. "If you'll keep this classified, I'll see what I can do."
By the time Eimol rolled around, they had traded the caverns of Sulerii for the mesas of Gantzen. They usually needed to divide into scout teams to go haul fresh water from the wells below; Poe and Rey were still trying to jerry-rig an elevator, but it was too inefficient to send spacecraft down. Whether by chance or some higher-up's astute eye, Finn and Rose had been assigned to the same team, and they spent many mornings enjoying each other's company as they climbed back and forth to the ship.
When evening came, Rose sounded the soft double trill that signified all invited to hub, not urgent. The blast was for Finn's sake as much as anyone's; most people knew about her scheme, if only indirectly. "Er, hello," she said, as her comrades shifted in their seats, warily. "Thanks for coming. As you all know, this is the first of Eimol, and as some of you know, that used to be a day of, uh, galactic significance."
Chewbacca and R2-D2 gave what she hoped were laughs; C-3PO had stepped out.
"But governments come and go, just like people. So while we're here, I think we should take time when we can to celebrate those—those we look up to. General Organa, many happy returns."
Organa blushed, and Poe stood up to offer her a datavid. "Oh, come on now, you shouldn't have—" she began.
"I think you'll like it," he said. "From some of our Ilkhoy allies, a few tales they've collected from those who came through in ancient days. Senators, pilots...even an Alderaanian or two."
Her eyes blurred as she stood to address the group. "Thank you. Thank you all very much."
"It's my pleasure," said Poe. "All of ours."
Organa blinked, composing herself, before she began. "Times change, calendars change—sometimes even planets change, as terrible as it is. And though our reckoning systems shouldn't be anywhere near the first casualties of these times, I certainly agree that we should not let the devastation of these times prevent us from rejoicing with our friends. Finn—I would be honored to share my birthday with you, if you are willing."
"Willing?" Finn said. "It'd be my honor, but, uh, it's kind of short notice."
"We planned ahead," said Rose. "Just in case."
"You..."
"Most of the gifts should keep," Rey explained. "If you don't want to celebrate today. But if you want to eat Kaydel's stew, that's probably going to need to be today."
"You made that beef stew?" Finn blurted.
Kaydel grinned. "Felt like being festive."
"Ma'am…I didn't mean to impinge," said Finn.
"I couldn't ask for a better celebration than seeing my troops find a reason to take heart," said Organa, "and I think this surely qualifies."
C-3PO came tottering back, balancing a stack of gifts which Finn raced to unload. From Poe, there was a cap emblazoned with the Resistance insignia. "To match your jacket," he winked.
"And so I can tell all my enemies I'm proud to hang around you nerfherders?" Finn laughed. "Thank you."
Rey had given him a small projector that set up miniature holochess and other games. "To pass the time when you're bored on watch. Or in jail, I don't know."
"That was one time!" That had become somewhat of a running joke on the Falcon.
"Okay, mostly on watch. Don't have too much fun, though, or someone will catch you from behind."
"It's great," he laughed. "I'll play you in dice. Just no Jedi cheating."
"I suppose it's unethical," Rey sighed.
Leia had given him a new digiwatch, with music programmed in. "Everybody chose a song they enjoyed," she explained. "I can't vouch for all of the non-bipedal tastes, but I suppose they think our sensory modalities are limited too."
"Which one is yours?" Finn asked.
"A folk song my parents sang to me when I was little. I'm afraid this recording is not very authentic, but—"
"It'll be great," he said. "Thank you."
Finn tested the weight of the last present before tearing it open. It was a series of metal links, interwoven together.
"Uh, it's beautiful," he said. "But...is it some kind of shield?"
"No, dummy," said Rose. "It's a necklace. Forged it with a solderbeam."
He gaped. "You made this?"
"You don't have to wear it if you think it's weird, obviously. I just figured...you know, you're the kind of guy who doesn't wait around for the moon." She toyed with her pendant. "Every day is as good as the next, right? Well, almost every."
Finn stared for a moment, then kissed her, still holding the necklace. Rose hugged him tightly as R2 beeped his approval, never mind the rest of the room.
When he pulled away, she took the chain in his hands. "So, you put it on like this, right?" she said, as he bent down and let her drape it over his head.
"Yeah," he said. "Yeah, I like it."
She gave him a quick kiss in return. "Happy birthday."
"My Name Is Hope (Luck Just Ran Out)" is an optional sequel to this.