The seizures and killings on Gorothad had run through the night and much of the day. Thousands were taken by the Stormtroopers and Enforcers as Hux tightened his grip. Some of them had been identified weeks and even months before. Others had just recently condemned themselves, whether by expressing a doubt that Kylo Ren was dead or suggesting that, all things considered, it was rather convenient for Hux to have just now returned to Gorothad when the throne was vacant.
The same pattern of events had run across the Throne Worlds, and before long the purge would be carried right across the First Order's domain. For now, the planets turned in silence, their people waiting tremulously to hear what the new tyrant's intentions were. They feared him, but there was little of no respect in the eyes which turned to holo-reels and scanned the vast propaganda screens.
After all, it was times like this that the First Order showed most clearly its contempt for the ordinary people. They were beneath its notice, unless they got in the way of the internal bloodletting. In which case they became a hindrance and were quickly removed. A few more thousand dead, here and there. A small enough sum to the First Order.
When it was all over, Hux stepped out of the Palace and surveyed his new domain. Truly, Ren, it is a pity that you didn't live to see this.
Clouds gathered darkly above the Palace. The pressure was high, suggesting a storm soon to break. Hux welcomed it. A cleansing downpour to scour away the lingering taint of Kylo Ren.
Great banners had been unfurled across the front of the Palace, the black icon of the First Order on stark white. Hux's forces were arrayed on the plaza in unmoving ranks, with nervous civilian staff stood further back. Elsewhere were the camera crews who would broadcast his words to the Galaxy, but dead ahead that was a scaffold, and that drew Hux's eye. There, ten figures in dishevelled uniforms stood, Executioner troopers standing over them.
The scaffold included a podium, and Hux made his way to it. Stolan, Torqueda and other officers flanked him as he stepped up. It was immaculately arranged, and the cameras would capture it with just as much precision. That was the way of First Order propaganda, nothing out of place. The merciless perfection of the regime, Hux's regime, was captured in every image.
One of the crouching men – Governor Nolten – turned his head briefly to glare at Hux and got a sharp jab in the ribs for his trouble. Hux smiled thinly, before he turned to the cameras.
"Citizens of the First Order!" He paused as his amplified voice echoed back at him, savouring the knowledge that the entire system was hanging on his words. Soon enough, the whole Galaxy would heed them.
On the way here, he'd considered beginning softly and rejected the idea. Let them be shocked. Let them understand the magnitude of events. "As you have heard, Supreme Leader Kylo Ren is dead. Now hear this – he was killed on Omunak, on my orders, for the crime which we all know he committed – the murder of his revered predecessor Snoke."
Two years he'd waited to utter those words, and he relished them. Gorothad, he fancied, had never been so silent.
"This is not an act of rebellion. By contrast, it is an entirely necessary purge. Too long have the First Order's ideals been perverted by instability at its very apex, by a regicide on the throne. All of us, from the lowest menial to the generals and governors by whose word the Galaxy is kept under control, were complicit, for we dared not speak out."
Let that be the blade set to hang over his underlings from now on. "Before you are men who served Ren's aberrant rule and stood in the way of his removal. Now behold the awful price of their mistakes." For complicity in Ren's many offences against the dignity of the First Order, no sentence could be too severe. Anyone who doubted Hux's fitness to rule would have to reckon with that implicit threat.
"Where could this have led," he demanded, "but to total collapse unless stable, rational authority was reimposed?" He gave the question a few seconds to bed down in the minds of those listening. "For that reason, I have accepted the burden of rulership to ensure that true order is maintained in the Galaxy. I shall be your Supreme Leader." Stormtrooper fists punched upwards, a forest of white-armoured limbs. The civilians behind them raised their hands too, with rather more hesitance.
Hux noted that. Well, if they feared him then that was all to the good. "And as my first official act, I sentence these wretches, who have spat on the ideals of the First Order, to death! Let them serve as an example to all." With those words ringing across the plaza, the prisoners were hauled to the blocks. The Executioners stepped forward, their electro-axes snapping into life.
Hux tilted his head back. Beyond those leaden clouds, his fleet was locking into formation, soon to move out and quell whatever enemies remained. He spread his arms wide, voice rising to a spittle-flecked snarl. "Rejoice, for today the promise of the First Order is honoured. Today, our commitment to proper governance is reaffirmed. Today, we are again united in our purpose to deliver the Galaxy from the false idols of democracy and freedom! Forth our legions will march to a thousand new conquests! Eternal, immutable victory!"
And on that last syllable, the axes swept down, a dozen simultaneous snaps and thumps serving to hammer home Hux's speech. He breathed in slowly, relishing the stillness in the air. Gorothad itself – and beyond, the entire First Order – waited on his command.
After all this time and all his trials, the mantle of supremacy had come to him. And whatever he had said about burdens and solemn, Hux intended to enjoy that power a very deal.
All it would take now was the confirmation of Ren's death.
/¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯¯\
Finn too was facing an audience, though with far less relish than Hux. They were out of the midday sun, but even in the shade, the heat was unhelpfully intense. "Man, that's a whole heap of people."
Poe nudged him. "You asked for all the ex-troopers, you got 'em."
"And a lot more besides." It appeared that all the escapees had gathered in the square, trooper and crewman alike. Next to the dais that stood at one end, Finn couldn't quite see to the back of the crowd.
But there could be no backing out. After hearing Jannah's story, he hadn't been able to shake the sense that in some way, he owed them. Or rather, that he could show them the way to something better than scratching a living here. Not to mention the debt they owed to everyone who'd given their lives to get them to here.
Rey stepped up next to him. "Feeling ready?"
"I think so."
"You are." She had the same smile she'd worn after they'd escaped Jakku, the day they first met. "The Force is with you, Finn." Then the others stepped back, leaving him alone by the stand.
He closed his eyes, repeating the old manta. The Force is with me, and I am one with the Force. He felt himself become centred and the turbulence inside him did away. And before he could think any further, his legs were carrying him up onto the dais.
An expectant hush gripped the crowd. Jannah stood before him, but as Finn approached, she inclined her head and backed away.
They stared up at him with a mixture of trepidation, curiosity and something else – a hope that they didn't quite dare to acknowledge. But he could feel it, through the Force. Emboldened, he drew a breath and spoke.
"I know you," he began, running his gaze over the crowd. "I've been you. I know what it means to stop being a Stormtrooper. And how hard it is to become anything else, because we've never once been allowed to be anything else."
His eyes roved over them, looking for anyone who might challenge that, but they just stared back. "We were raised without anything to call our own, meant to fight when we had nothing to fight for. And then you realise that there's a choice and you decide you're not going to kill for the First Order, but once you're through that fight you find yourself unmoored." Jannah had said that quite clearly.
"That was me, stumbling through, just trying to get away. But then I met people who wouldn't call a person by a number, who'd fight for someone who they'd never met before." He hardened his tone, drew himself up. "The only reason we feel lost is that no one ever taught us what freedom really means."
Now the next step, the one he'd discussed with Rose and Poe. Because he'd realised that there was one lingering influence from the First Order which the escaees hadn't shaken off yet. The lack of a true name for any Stormtrooper, and the barrier it created between them and anyone else. He'd seen the looks of surprise on the faces of Arron and others when he gave Jannah her name. It had never crossed their minds to do that. Maybe, after so long serving their old masters, they didn't even imagine it was possible to do away with it.
Well, no more. "And sometimes it just takes someone to give you a way to value it. Even as little as a name, so." He stepped down from the dais, his eyes finding a young man. He stretched out a hand. "Hey pal. What did they call you?"
"JC-3761."
"That's not a name." Finn put an arm round the youth's shoulders and wheeled him round to face the rest. Somewhere behind him, LM-976 turned to Nyzar and shrugged. "So you know what, people? From now on, this man here is Jaicyn."
"Jaicyn." Just like Jannah, the youth repeated the name, trying it on.
Emboldened, Finn turned to his friends, seeing the broad smile on Poe's face, and beckoned them forward. "We're gonna work through you guys. Former ratings here, anyone who isn't called by a number, join us. No one leaves here with a Stormtrooper tag."
A strange euphoria built among the former Stormtroopers as names were improvised and handed out. Poe got into it immediately. Rey and the others were more hesitant, but they soon hit their stride.
And the former troopers too, the ones who'd just been gifted names of their own, were taking a hand. Giving out names they'd heard in passing, improvised or maybe even half-remembered from childhood. The last barrier between them and the enlisted personnel was crumbling, one more reminder of their old masters falling away.
Finally, Finn took to the stand again and raised a hand to quiet the babble. "My friends, I don't want to have to ask this of you, but what you have now, the First Order will take away. Not just from you, but from families across the Galaxy. So many of them will know the same pain as yours."
He drew a breath, letting the words sink in. "I won't order you to fight, but if you want to live free, the tyrants have to fall. They wanted you to subjugate the Galaxy in their name. Choose to be the ones to liberate it."
Jaicyn and Jannah shouted their assent, immediately joined by the others. Finn actually rocked back a little on his heels, a huge grin spreading over his face. He looked down at Rey and Rose, both of them smiling proudly back at him.
For a moment, he just revelled in it. Then he gathered himself, cupped his hands to his mouth, and called for quiet. The hubbub died away. "Then we've gotta get to work. Everything you need has to be on that Destroyer this time tomorrow. Are you ready?"
This time, the cheer shook the city.