A short one, but it seemed appropiate to end it there. Next one will be longer. Enjoy!

Chapter 03

FN-4026 was staring up at the ceiling from her bunkbed. Fatigue was eating away at her and she felt closer to crying than laughter, but sleep would only come a few minutes at a time. A short blissful daze before the nightmares would come and take over, jolting her awake.

The feeling of being monitored 24 hours didn't help either.

But even though she preferred sleep, she had now a couple of hours to herself to think. Without fear or percussions, without someone to interrupt her. A thing she hadn't thought of for a long time was her life before all this. Before the First Order became her life.

A result of being extracted at the age of five was that she could not remember a lot, at least not images but feelings. Emotions that she had experienced, such as the feeling of being nurtured by her mother whenever she was afraid. Or curiosity taking over the fear for an unknown thing. The warm feeling that bloomed inside of her when hugging one of her parents..

'I need to leave here.'

The thought was as abrupt as a lightning strike, but it made sense. Why stay here, if all she was doing here was to make people suffer, where in turn she suffered from herself?

Because all of this was all she had ever known.

FN-4026 had no idea of how to start living for herself, for she had always lived and breathed for the First Order. She had no idea of what was out there, aside from the missions she had been on, but that was like looking at a vid. Seeing it, but not being it.

But one could only learn to swim by being in the water.

With determination she climbed out of bed and dressed in her armour. That way she could just blend in if there were any problems.

FN-4026 stared at herself in the mirror, a pale-faced girl with blue eyes that were surrounded by faint dark circles of sleep deprivation was staring back at her. Big and frightened, but with a defiant glint in them. Blond hair combed back in a tight bun on the back of her head. With a few deep breaths she steeled herself and put on her helmet.

Rows and rows of doors like hers mirrored each other, on each door a series of numbers that were tied to the serial number of the troopers sleeping there. So you wouldn't have to change the numbers on the doors when someone died.

With a hurried stride she crossed the dark and abandoned hallway and turned left, knowing which were the shortest series of corridors to her destination. Her leather boots thumping on the dark marble floor, not even squeaking.

She passed a few Stormtroopers in their combat gear, but of their serial numbers not the one she was looking for and nodded automatically when they nodded at her too. It was a sign of acknowledging their fellow trooper sharing the same burdens. She wondered if those she encountered would ever become her enemies. What if she one day had to fight her own regiment?

With a shudder she tried to cast away those dark thoughts, but her nerves played their part when the numbers on the doors reached into the 1200's. She spotted several numbers of what she knew belonged to her squad mates, but that was just a though at the back of her mind. Then, suddenly, she reached the door she needed to be.

1279

Her black covered knuckles rapped on the door and she waited. Her feet slight apart and her hands clasped behind her back in a comfortable resting position. After knocking another time she huffed, he wasn't there, according his duty roster he should be.

Deciding to go looking for him, she strode away and took the elevator down. Her nervousness turning into agitation.

The Finalizer star destroyer was never quiet. It was alive for 24 standard hours, people only sleeping and eating when they had to during the designated times that were scheduled into their rosters. Everyone was doing their duty within the time they were given. FN-4026 had never gone outside her roster, and felt something akin to a fish out of the water walking past several platoons of fellow Stormtroopers. She was out of her comfort zone.

Suddenly something in her peripheral vision caught her eye. She turned and stared right into the faces of FN-2187 and the Rebel.

"Wh-"

Her voice failed her when she was pulled into the narrow maintenance alley and pressed against the wall before she could even react. Her rifle was torn from her grasp and the end of the nuzzle presented itself between her eyes.

"Don't say a word.." was the Rebel's warning with clenched teeth.

"Or else?" FN-4026 finished with the same vigour, but her voice soft and whispering.

"Hey easy," Eighty-seven hushed and pushed the barrel away from her face. She could not help but to let out a breath of relief. He turned his dark eyes to her and looked up and down. "Eighty-seven, what are you doing here?"

"Trying to find you," she muttered and stared at him from underneath her helmet. Ignoring the deathglares she received from the Rebel. "What are you doing here, with him?" She spared the Rebel a glare, and though he could see, it also showed in her voice. "And why aren't you wearing your helmet?"

Eigthy-seven and the Rebel shared a glance, there was hesitation in both faces. It sudden dawned on her; they were escaping this forsaken place. A flicker of panic accompanied the thought.

'Were they leaving without me?'

"I want to go with you," she said.

"No, no, you can't-" Eighty-seven immediately replied, trying to stay hushed but his emotions made his voice flare.

"Yes, I can and I will. I-" she paused, sighing and looking down at her feet. "I need to. I can't do this anymore, I can't live like this for the rest of my life."

"Do you know how we can get off of this station?"

She looked up into the Rebel's eyes, a stranger to her and she to him, yet he was looking at her determined and asking her practically to help them. Twenty-six wondered if he knew she was the one who had tortured him.

Steeling her resolve and quenching her thoughts, she nodded. Deciding it was time for action.

"Yes."

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