Chapter Four
Clouds of dust rise and shift in the wake of Stormtroopers marching through the forlorn streets of another ravaged town. It's a war zone, a ruin of rubble. Cries of rage and fear and desperation echo in the distance, in the direction the Stormtroopers have set themselves upon.
Two figures leap stealthily across the street behind them, lithely traipsing from one ravaged building to the next. Hooded, they wind their way through the alleys and streets, towards the raised voices, darting through the shadows of the walls.
The cries grow louder, their panic clearer, the anger in them building.
The figures stop against one of the more sturdy standing structures, chests heaving beneath their cloaks. A hood falls down.
Poe Dameron grimaces at the noise pierces his ears. His face is dishevelled, a shadow around his chin and cheeks where scruff marks the beginning of a beard. He glances around the corner of this building and spies an open square, a group of some three dozen villagers herded together, on their knees before Stormtroopers. He counts quickly. There are at least twenty of those white armoured bastards standing guard. In his world, they call that overkill.
The figure beside him lowers his hood too. Finn's eyes glint wth reckless daring as he peers around the other corner of this building. "So what do you think?" he asks Poe. "Is this going to be like Laravar? Or is it more of a Uloria situation?"
"I'd call it a 'we're outnumbered' scenario," Poe answers grimly. He scratches anxiously at his head. They've been at this for weeks now, jumping from one town to another across the planet Norala, freeing them from the martial rule of the First Order. This is the last one before they can finally return to the Resistance Base—what stands for home in these days.
And it promises to be a challenge.
"So, we're looking at another Teracen. Got it." Finn raises a comlink to his mouth, poised to call down the Resistance force waiting in the hills.
Poe grabs at his hand, restraining Finn can give the order. He's getting another idea, one growing in tandem with the rabble in the square beyond.
Finn glances at the fingers wrapped around his wrist, then at Poe. "Is now really the time?"
Poe gives him a crooked grin. It's been a long hard three months of a mission, but it's all been bearable. Because of Finn. Three months on the move, jumping from town to town, has been worth the time it's won for them. He and Finn. Time and proximity needed to explore the rhythm between them. But Finn's right: now is not the time. "I think this might be another Narfyr."
Finn's brow furrows, losing the humour in his expression. "I don't know, Poe. Seems a little risky..."
"There was no anger in Laravar or Uloria or Teracen. Not like this," Poe says. "It's a different fire. If we spark it right, we won't be eight against twenty. We'll be almost fifty." A lesson he learned from Leia. Liberating these towns isn't enough. These people need to be ready to protect themselves should the First Order come again. The other towns were already steeped in defeat. In Narfyr, they had found a group of rebels already forming a plan to throw off the overlords. There isn't any of that here, but the outward contempt means there was hope. And that's worth something in the larger fight.
"So who goes? Do I go?"
Poe smirks at Finn. Squeezing his shoulder, he shakes his head. "You stay here. I'll catch you later."
"Don't get blasted."
#
Finn breathes in once, shakily, as Poe darts off. He folds into the wall to wait, anxiety an uncomfortable companion. But he doesn't have long to wait.
A Trooper appears on his left, an uncounted sentry. Spotting Finn, it takes aim.
Finn leaps from the wall, blaster out. "So, it's going to be like Craes, is it?"
Before he can take his shot, the Trooper freezes, lowers its weapon. "FN-2187?"
Finn's eyes narrow, but he keeps his blaster firm in hand. "Not anymore."
The Trooper slides his blaster away and raises his hands in a gesture Finn understands to be surrender, but it is more than that. Something that can shift the tides.
Those raised hands plant themselves on either side of his head and lifts the helmet off it.
Beneath it is the face of a dark-skinned man with shorn hair. Sweat slips from his forehead, but his eyes glow with excitement.
Finn recognizes him at once. His eyes widen in surprise. "FN-2234?"
"So the legends are true."
It's like someone has lit a fire within Finn, one burning with hope. FN-2234 was one of the Troopers he was trained with. Someone who was plucked from the same world as he. Someone he had grown up knowing. Someone he had mourned losing when he had chosen to leave. Is it Fate that has brought them together again? No. The shifting in the wind, a subtle rippling. It is the Force.
#
Poe crouches down behind a barrel on the opposite end of the square. He takes a deep breath, swallows down the lump of nerves that always manages to rise in his throat when he's on the cusp of peril. It's worse today, because he's dependant on power beyond his own. And he never likes losing control. If this goes the way he hopes, it'll all be worth it.
Slipping his blaster free, he's just about to launch his plan when his comlink crackles to life.
Finn's voice echoes out of it, "Change of plan, Poe. Lie low. I got this one."
Poe bites his lip. That lump in his throat is threatening his ability to breathe. "What's going on, buddy? What are we doing now?"
"Something completely new."
Poe swivels his head to watch as Finn emerges onto the square, a Stormtrooper at his back, a blaster aimed at his head.
It's all he can do to keep himself from leaping out of his hiding place and racing off to the rescue. He's supposed to trust Finn—he does trust him—but he hates this helplessness, this feeling of being sidelined.
"I hope you know what you're doing, buddy."
#
Finn glances aside as he's prodded towards the gathered villagers. With his hands held up behind his head, he can't crane his neck far enough to see Poe. He knows this is a big ask, but Poe's come a long way from his hotheaded days. He'll listen.
"Look what I found," FN-2234 says, his voice muffled beneath the helmet. He prods Finn hard in the back. Finn nearly falls as he stumbles forward with the impact. "An old friend."
A few Troopers shuffle anxiously. The name 'FN-2187' ripples through the crowd. He nods at them, face stoic, 'feeling' their uncertainty. It's just as FN-2234 said. There is unrest in the First Order. There is doubt sowing seeds. There is hope to be found in it.
The Commander of this squad wears a red band on hi shoulder. He levels his blaster at Finn's head. "Traitorous scum. Murderer. Let your death be a lesson to any others who might consider desertion. Kneel!"
Apparently, someone isn't happy that Finn killed Phasma.
FN-2234 forces Finn onto his knees.
#
Across the way, Poe raises his own blaster, teeth gritted. He's reach the limit of his trust. He's an inch off the ground when the Trooper behind shifts Poe. He lifts his blaster, aims it at his Commander. One shot takes the Trooper in the head and he falls, dead to the worn ground.
Poe hesitates. He's not the only one. The whole of the square has fallen still as if under a spell, wavering in the wake of something so unexpected.
#
FN-2234 addresses the crowd of his fellows. "I know we've all been talking about making a stand. Well, this is our moment. Finn is here for a reason." He removes his helmet as he had before. "Who will stand with me? Who will take this moment?"
One by one, the Stormtroopers take off their helmets, dropping them on the ground until each one of them has bared their faces for the masses.
Finn surveys them all. He recognizes most of them. People he grew with, people he found love with, people he suffered beside. There is a whispering on the wind, a thrill of something new.
The crowd of villagers look around them, eyes darting, at once in bewilderment, at once in disbelief. They do not yet realize that they are safe.
Finn stretches out a hand towards them. "Don't be afraid. The danger is past. You're free."
"Finn?"
He turns from the crowd and the Troopers, beaming broadly at his friend, his Poe. "What do you think? Not bad, right?"
#
On the grand scheme, not bad at all. But Poe can't help the tremor of unease running through him. It was too easy a victory. Too clean. This last town was supposed to be the hardest to break. Now, the bare-faced Stormtroopers are gathering away from the villagers, leaving the Harylians to move free. He needs to talk to them, to call in the rest of the Resistance, to make sure this place is secure before they leave. But he also needs to talk to Finn. "Uh, sure. Look, can I have a word in private, buddy?"
He eyes the Stormtrooper who fired the killing shot over Finn's shoulder. Chestnut eyes that are remarkably like Finn's blink at him, asking a question Poe can't quite place.
Finn follows him off a few paces, enough of a distance to ensure that their conversation will go unheard by unwanted ears. "Something wrong?" Finn asks.
"I mean, it's impressive. This coup or whatever, but are you sure we can trust these guys? I mean, it could be a trap. They could be trying to lower our defences before they strike."
An annoyingly placating grin spreads across Finn's lips. "I know you would have been happy to shoot some things up. But this is better. They want to join the Resistance."
"Woah, woah, woah!" Poe lifts his hands as if they might magically stop this wreck in its tracks. "I don't know what they said or what your history with them is, but we can't bring them with us. That's too much of a risk."
Finn has to understand. Maybe these Stormtroopers mean well—and that's not a thought he's comfortable with—but for the chance that it's a sneaky way of winning the location of the Resistance base, they have to be left behind. Or shipped off to the war prisoner base Leia had them set up in the Outer Rim.
#
Poe has to understand. Finn felt something. He knows that when they say they are done with the First Order, they mean it. This is a chance to grow their diminished numbers. To rebuild the Resistance.
"I was just like them once," Finn reminds Poe. "They are like me. I seem to remember you being quick to trust me when I rescued you from Kylo Ren."
"That was my life, Finn. Not the lives of all our friends," Poe argues. "The risks are higher."
"So you should know I wouldn't say this lightly." Finn reaches out, cups Poe's cheek in a tender, but firm, hold. "I know that they want to help. I know they won't betray us. Trust me."
Poe slides his hand up to cover Finn's, sighing heavily. "I do, but you'll need to get Leia's approval."
Finn beams. "Not a problem." He leans his forehead it, rests it for a breath against Poe's. "This is how we win," he says.
#
Poe trembles at the slightest touch of Finn's skin against his. It works into his heart, breaks him down. Then he's gone again, rushing back to greet his old friends, those men and women he once trained to fight the Resistance with.
The Commander killer claps Finn on the back, presses their foreheads together.
A feeling that is neither mistrust or anger ripples through Poe.
Finn glances back at him, gestures him to join them. Poe sags. "I have a bad feeling about this," he mutters to himself before answering the summons.
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
Friends, I have to apologize for not posting on the fifth day as promised. I got struck down by a bad cold and was out of commission for a few days. But I'm on the upside of this downturn and I'll have the next chapter up on the 30th as if there was no blip.
Thanks for sticking with :)