FN-2187's head hurts constantly on the Finalizer. Not even the peaceful memories of the vode are enough to keep Ren's dark presence completely at bay. FN-2187's scores at the range drop significantly for the first few weeks on the Finalizer until he gets used to it.
Zeroes just scoffs and calls him weak, but FN-2187 is pleasantly surprised when Slip and Nines are fairly sympathetic. Nines brings him food from the mess on one particularly bad day when it feels like his brain is about to leak out of his skull, and Slip takes to dimming the lights whenever Zeroes lets him get away with it.
"They're learning," Waxer says with a grin when FN-2187 mentions it to the nearby vode one morning, halfway through his strength training. "You're getting through to them. Traat'aliit gar besbe'trayc. The squad will always be your strongest weapon, and they've started to see that."
"Not Zeroes, though," FN-2187 gasps out of the side of his mouth as he starts up another set of pushups.
"No, not yet. But don't lose hope. He might still come around. Now watch your form."
FN-2187 grits his teeth against his incessant headache and obeys.
His skull throbs by the time he returns to their barracks. A rinse-off in the sonic shower helps a little, but not enough. The pressure is heightened today for some reason. He's grateful when Commander Thorn seems to notice and signs for silence from the rest of the vode clustered around the barracks. They watch quietly as FN-2187 tosses his dirty undersuit into the laundry chute and flops back onto his stiff bunk.
The door slides open to admit Nines. The other stormtrooper sighs when FN-2187 offers him a miserable wave. "Again?"
FN-2187 grunts.
"Force. I've never seen anyone get hyperspace sickness this bad, even with this much travelling. It's a good thing they haven't called our division to combat yet."
"Yeah, I know." The Finalizer always seems to be travelling, not that anyone bothers to tell mere stormtroopers where or why.
"Have you considered going to see a medic? I get hyperspace sickness too sometimes, but this is excessive."
"I will if it gets any worse. But I'm okay. My scores are almost back to normal now." FN-2187 thinks that the medics would be more likely to report him for being weak rather than actually do anything to help. And he's not entirely sure if they could help, either. Unless they know how to appease Ren's anger for once in his life.
Sure enough, a scout reports in from the bridge a few minutes later with news that Ren is in a particularly foul mood today.
With Nines in the sonic shower, FN-2187 has no problem voicing his frustration. "When isn't he in a bad mood?"
"He's looking for something, and he can't find it," the young scout says apologetically. "I haven't been able to overhear what, though. He rarely says it out loud."
"That's alright, vod. Kandosii," Commander Thorn says. "Keep it up." The scout dips his head in acknowledgement and slips out through the far wall.
FN-2187 groans, massaging desperately at his temples. "How is no one else affected by this? It's awful. I don't understand!"
Silence falls heavy enough that FN-2187 braves sitting up. The cluster of vode hanging around his barracks exchange nervous glances. Commander Thorn frowns.
"Me'bana?" FN-2187 asks. "Is something wrong?"
"We might have an answer for you, verd'ika, it's just… Rex thought it would be safer not to explain quite yet." The Coruscant Guard commander shrugs. "Most of us agreed with him."
"You—wait, you know what's wrong with me?"
"Rex has a theory."
"Tell me!"
Thorn sighs. "Vod, I wish it were that simple. I promise you it's for a good reason. Ren is too close. We'll tell you as soon as we get you away from here."
FN-2187 opens his mouth to press for more details, but pain surges through the back of his skull, and he tips forwards with a grimace instead.
"You'll be alright," Thorn says. "Trust us."
"I do trust you. But I—"
The buzz of the sonic shower shuts off. FN-2187 snaps his mouth shut. He settles for a glare instead.
Thorn sighs, but his expression is more fond than intimidated. "Take it up with Rex if you have a problem. But I promise we wouldn't do something like that without a serious reason."
It's enough to pacify FN-2187 for the time being. The vode always look out for him, and if there's something they think he shouldn't know yet… as much as he hates it, they're probably right.
His luck doesn't hold out forever. FN-2187 and his squad get the notice less than a day in advance. They're being sent on a retrieval mission to Jakku.
Zeroes is the first to read the alert on his datapad, leaping to his feet. "Finally!"
Nines tugs the datapad from his hand to read next, and for once Zeroes doesn't snap at him for it. A few clones inch closer to read over the other stormtrooper's shoulder. FN-2187 scrambles for his own datapad and spots the notice immediately, flashing in bold letters across the top of the screen.
The mission description is short. What exactly they're retrieving isn't specified. FN-2187 squints at the vague instructions and feels nervous anticipation squirm in his gut. At least it isn't a combat-heavy assignment.
A clone next to FN-2187 snorts. "That's not suspicious at all," Commander Ponds says dryly. "Scroll down a little."
Numbly, FN-2187 obeys. The next bit of info makes his heart stall.
Ren will be accompanying them.
"Oh, Force," he breathes, unable to help himself. Nines hunches his shoulders, face going even paler than usual, and Slip sits down on his bunk, staring resolutely at the floor.
Only Zeroes seems happy about it. "We leave as soon as we emerge from hyperspace. That gives us… ten hours?" He chuckles. "Plenty of time to polish my armor again. Can't have Ren's squad looking shabby."
"Ren's squad?" Nines scoffs underneath his breath. "It's just one mission." Fortunately, Zeroes doesn't hear him, already rummaging around in his narrow closet for his polish.
FN-2187 feels dizzy. Even just standing on the opposite side of a hangar as the sith had nearly sent him into panic. How the kriff is he supposed to manage himself with Ren breathing right down his neck?
"Hey, hey," Ponds says suddenly. "Haalur. You're alright. Haalur, I said."
FN-2187 doesn't know that word. He sways a little, but he manages to twist his fingers into the shortcut sign for I don't understand.
"Oh, kriff, sorry. It means breathe, vod'ika. Take a breath."
FN-2187 sucks in air and shudders at the relief it sends through his chest.
"Jate. Tug'yc."
FN-2187 takes another breath as ordered. His body seems to stabilize a little more with each inhale.
Ponds comes into focus in front of him, eyes kind. "Good job. It's going to be alright, okay? We've been training you hard for a reason. You're ten times more competent than the rest of the First Order men. And we'll see if we can figure out a way to deal with Ren—"
Red hair bursts through Pond's form as Nines steps closer to FN-2187. The other stormtrooper puts a tentative hand on FN-2187's shoulder. "Hey… um, you should rest before we go. Your headaches haven't been getting any better, have they?"
"Not really," FN-2187 says, and reminds himself to breathe again.
Nines grimaces. "Yeah, that's what I thought."
"What?" Slip looks alarmed, head snapping over to look at them. "You'd better rest up, otherwise we're all dead!"
"What does that have to do with anything? I can hold my own just fine!" Zeroes says, fixing Slip with a vicious glare.
Slip cowers a little, but he still mumbles his response. "Even you have to admit that we do better when he's in charge."
Zeroes scowls as he violently drags his polishing rag over a greave. The expression deepens the scar running down his cheek. He doesn't disagree, though, and FN-2187's eyes go wide.
"Oya! That's what we like to hear!" a clone says, though FN-2187 can't turn his head to tell who it was—a flash of 501st blue out of the corner of his eye is the only clue he gets. A few other clones let out muted cheers.
FN-2187 almost can't breathe again, but for a different reason than before. Something in his chest warms as he stares at the worry on Slip's face and the concern on Nines'.
It might not be for exactly the ideal reasons, but it feels like they actually care.
"Yeah, you're—" He has to swallow around a strange lump in his throat. "You're right. I'll rest up before we head out."
Nines' expression softens. "Slip and I can get you something from the mess hall."
"Yeah, that would be good."
FN-2187 lies down as they leave, listening to the familiar sounds of Zeroes touching up his armor. His remaining squadmate doesn't speak to him, and FN-2187 doesn't try to start up a conversation, either. He can't really focus enough to try.
Sithspit. Kylo Ren will be far too close for comfort. If FN-2187 freezes up like he did last time, it could be disastrous, not to mention deadly.
"I'm no Jedi, but I can practically sense your mind spinning." Jesse's tattooed face appears overhead. His grin is solidly in place, but FN-2187 knows the clones well enough to tell when it's just a little forced, leaning towards worried. "What are you more nervous for? The mission, or Ren?"
Sith, FN-2187 signs choppily.
Jesse grimaces. "Yeah. That's how I always felt, too."
A starburst of vivid pain knifes through FN-2187's skull, travelling from temple to temple. He groans and drops his head back against the mattress. He's sick of this. For a long minute he can do nothing but ride it out, teeth clenched and eyes squeezed shut.
When the majority of the flare fades away, he opens his eyes. Spots of darkness dance across his vision from how tightly he'd held his eyes closed. It takes him a moment to adjust. Vode murmur curses around him, gathered close around his bedside with worry.
Across the room, Zeroes grumbles under his breath and stomps towards the door. He casts one final dirty look at FN-2187 before disappearing.
FN-2187 heaves for breath. "I'm okay."
"Are you?" Jesse swears long and low. "Ponds, I can't just sit here and pretend like I don't—"
"Enough, Jesse." Ponds' voice goes heavy. "And that's Commander to you."
Jesse's expression contorts. "We're kriffing dead, what does it matter? A kih'vod is suffering and you won't even let me help—!"
"Whoa, whoa. Hey." Fives appears out of nowhere, Hardcase beside him. "Jesse, vod. Udesii."
"We need to teach him," Jesse says through gritted teeth.
Fives winces. "I know this is a sensitive subject for you—"
"Sensitive doesn't even begin to cover it! You try having a sith root around in your head for hours and then try to tell me to calm the kriff down—!"
"Okay, that's enough." Rex steps in between them. FN-2187 wonders for how long he's been watching. It takes a moment, but both Fives and Jesse straighten respectfully. Hardcase backs up a little, putting himself out of the potential line of fire.
Jesse stands at attention, but his eyes blaze, and he doesn't seem to back down. "Sir. He deserves to at least know what's possible."
Jesse's insistence has FN-2187 sitting up, nerves skittering across his skin and making him restless. "I deserve to know what, exactly?"
The vode tense. Rex sighs. "There is a way to potentially shield your mind from the pain you feel from Ren."
FN-2187 jerks. "Force, really? Why wouldn't you tell me that, sithspit, it hurts so bad—"
"But it could potentially alert Ren to your presence. He could be able to sense you in return."
Every drop of hopeful elation drains away as quickly as it had gathered. "Is that for certain?"
"It's likely," Rex says. "I doubt that very many people on this ship are trained to shield themselves from his presence. For a stormtrooper to suddenly do so might stick out like a beacon if he's paying attention."
"But the alternative is just as dangerous!" Jesse says. "If we don't teach him, and he finds any reason to reach deeper into his mind—"
"If he really did reach further into the kid's mind, being shielded would be just as much of a giveaway as his memories would be."
"But it should be his choice, not ours!" Jesse growls.
Rex sighs. "I wanted to spare him from any false hope. But… you're right."
FN-2187 cringes when they turn to look at him. "I don't—I don't want him to notice me at all." He shudders to imagine the entirety of Ren's cloying darkness converging on him. "But… it might happen anyway."
"The least we could do is teach him the theory behind it," Jesse says. "He doesn't have to shield himself unless he truly needs to, or if he's in too much pain."
FN-2187's headaches are far more manageable than Kylo Ren's fury would be, so FN-2187 doesn't think he'll bother to shield himself from the pain, but it's naive to assume that he'll be able to slip under the radar forever. He squares his shoulders. "I want that. Teach me the theory behind it, and if I need it later, I'll know what to do."
Rex's expression softens. "Kotep kih'vod. I'm sorry. We shouldn't have made this decision for you."
FN-2187 shakes his head. "You were trying to protect me. It's alright."
Rex turns to Fives and Hardcase, who watch grimly. "Send word to the others. I need Wolffe. And," he pauses for a moment, deliberating, before he sets his jaw, "Fox."
Fives stiffens. For a moment, FN-2187 thinks he'll refuse, but then he nods once and disappears through the wall.
"Hardcase," Rex calls before the other clone can leave. "Make sure he doesn't start anything."
Hardcase raises an eyebrow, one leg disappearing into the wall. "You're asking me to make sure Fives doesn't start any trouble?" But he nods, and follows Fives' trail out.
Jesse exhales, shoulders slumping. He brings a hand up to drag it down his face. His entire form flickers for a moment. "Thank you, sir."
"You're welcome, Jesse." Rex puts a gentle hand on Jesse's shoulder.
Jesse offers FN-2187 a weak grin. "Now at least you won't be completely helpless, verd'ika." FN-2187 can only offer him a nervous smile back.
FN-2187 putters around the room while they wait for the other vode to arrive. He gives his armor a cursory polish because Zeroes will glare at him if he doesn't, and double checks the extra tibanna cartridges in his belt to make sure they're fully charged. Eventually Wolffe phases through the door, helmet tucked under his arm and a low greeting on his lips. It takes a little longer for Fox to arrive. The Coruscant Guard slips into the room from above, standing as far away from Rex, Wolffe, and Jesse as possible with his arms crossed over his chest.
Rex clears his throat. "Good. Now that we're all here, we can begin. Everyone in this room has had excessive experience with the mind manipulation a sith is capable of. We can't teach you everything, especially not without a Jedi, but we can talk you through the basic concepts of meditation and shielding your mind."
FN-2187 glances at the four clones in front of him and feels a pang of sympathy. Jesse looks haunted. Wolffe's one remaining eye narrows, but the scarred side of his face twitches.
"Why am I here?" Fox asks, shifting his weight. "I never knew how to defend my mind while I was alive. I didn't even know he was manipulating us until I died."
"You're here because you can help him recognize when someone is trying to manipulate him," Rex says. "If he can get used to what it feels like from your memories, he'll be better equipped to put up a fight when it happens."
He says when, FN-2187 notices, not if. He taps his foot anxiously against the durasteel floor.
Fox shifts his weight, deliberating, but then he nods. Rex motions him closer. It takes a moment, but Fox steps forwards until he stands next to Wolffe. Wolffe offers him a polite nod, and finally Fox seems to relax a little. FN-2187 smiles.
"I'm no Jedi, but I can show you what they taught me about this," Rex says. He raises a hand and extends it towards FN-2187, waiting patiently. FN-2187 braces himself and reaches out. His fingers brush through Rex's transparent gloves, and—
"Meditation is the basis of defending your mind," General Skywalker says. He sits on the edge of a narrow bunk. His ungloved mechanical hand glints in the low lighting of his private quarters. Tiny models of starships hang from strings connected to the ceiling, and scattered droid parts lay abandoned on the desk. "By focusing your thoughts, you can create a shield against anyone who tries to get into your head. It doesn't always mean you can keep them out permanently, but it'll at least let you put up a fight."
Rex remembers the awful sensation of Ventress pinning him to the wall like an insect, remembers cold tendrils of darkness worming through his mind like a rotting disease and an invisible fist clenched tight around his throat. He shudders. "Teach me, sir."
He doesn't want to feel that powerless ever again.
General Skywalker nods. Rex appreciates that he doesn't offer pity, or apologies. He just motions for Rex to sit next to him. "Alright. Close your eyes, and focus on your breathing. Don't force it. Clear your mind. It's okay to move a little, just as long as you can manage your thoughts."
Rex does so. It takes him a while to clear his head, to get rid of the regret and sorrow and guilt that comes with heavy losses, but eventually it all fades away. He drifts for a few minutes, caught in the impossible boundary between sleep and focus.
"Nice job, Rex," the General says. Rex nearly starts at his voice, loud in the silence of the room. Rex's eyes are closed, but he can hear the grin in the Jedi's voice. "That's a good start."
FN-2187 surfaces from the memory. "That's Skywalker?" he asks, suddenly breathless. "But I thought he…?"
"He did," Rex says, voice gruffer than usual. "But he wasn't always like that. I trusted him with my life."
FN-2187 senses that it wouldn't be very wise to push. Jesse stares resolutely at the floor. Fox and Wolffe just look sad.
"Okay," FN-2187 says. "I think I get it."
"Good," Rex says. "Give it a shot, then."
FN-2187 closes his eyes.
Attempting to meditate keeps him distracted for most of the wait, which is both a blessing and a curse. When they're ordered to report to the hangar, his nerves come crashing back with force. His hands shake as he armors up and falls in line with his squadmates.
The hangar buzzes with anticipatory energy. FN-2187 files into one of the four waiting dropships with the other stormtroopers, stealing surreptitious looks around the area for any sign of Ren. The sith doesn't make an appearance, but Phasma storms across the hangar instead, cape whipping around her ankles as she walks. The sight of her chrome armor makes him straighten. Cold sweat beads on the back of his neck. She joins them on the dropship, marching past them to take up a spot by the front.
As soon as the dropships lift from the Finalizer, he feels the telltale tug in his gut of the vode being pulled along with him. Several clones materialize alongside him in the narrow space, Commander Cody and Delta squad among them. Chattering voices echo through his helmet comms, reiterating their pitiful mission parameters in a pompous-sounding voice that makes FN-2187 want to cringe.
They hit a batch of turbulence that can only mean they've entered Jakku's atmosphere. He sways in place to keep his balance as the ship rocks. He has to remind himself to unclench his jaw.
"You'll be alright, vod," Cody says, one shoulder dipping through the stormtrooper in front of FN-2187. "We won't let anything happen to you."
FN-2187 sucks in a breath. "Them, too," he dares to whisper, voice hidden by the rumbling engine. He inches his head back as subtle as he can to gesture towards his First Order squadmates.
Cody's expression softens. "Yeah, we'll watch out for them, too."
The ship vibrates around them. FN-2187 tries to remember the meditation tips Rex gave him earlier. It's enough to calm him, up until he feels his stomach swoop uncomfortably with descent. They're close.
"As soon as we hit the ground, I've ordered the men to spread out in a circumference around you and relay any potentially relevant information to the closest vode. They'll pass the information on until it arrives to me, and I'll keep you informed as to what's most important," Cody says. "You don't need to worry about watching for their signs. Just focus on staying alive. If anything becomes pressingly urgent, I'll let you know."
FN-2187 nods. He fidgets in place. A faint pressure presses against his back, faint through his armor, but obviously there. He can't turn to look at what it is, not with Phasma beginning to shout orders from the front, and glances up to Cody for help.
"It's Nines," the Commander answers gently. FN-2187 blinks in surprise, and reaches back with his free hand to tap his squadmate's arm once. Nines pushes on him gently once more before backing off. It's oddly comforting, and FN-2187 blinks at the blank helmet of the stormtrooper in front of him incredulously.
"Subdue and contain any hostiles," Phasma thunders from the front. "Ensure that the Resistance spy is taken alive. Deployment in thirty seconds."
Delta squad set themselves around him like a shield, something almost predatory in the way they take their positions.
"K'oyacyi, vod," Sev says. "We've got you."
"Give 'em everything you've got!" Scorch says.
The landing gear whines as it detracts below them. The jolt of the landing sends a dull ache through FN-2187's knees. The ramp slides down with a hiss. The first stormtroopers lunge through the opening. Blaster fire erupts through the air. Sparks fly as they collide with the ship. FN-2187 charges with the rest of the stormtroopers, heart beating a hole in his chest.
Blue and red blaster fire illuminate the tiny town in front of him. Several short, squat huts shelter their enemies, who duck in between farming equipment and crates as they return fire. FN-2187 sprints down the ramp of the ship. The moment he sets foot in the sand, clones erupt around him, darting in every direction. He stumbles in surprise at the flurry of motion.
"Move, move!" Cody shouts. FN-2187 obeys.
The majority of the First Order troops charge straight ahead towards the village, where the shadowy forms of their opponents are backlit by flickering hearths. FN-2187 veers to the side where a slight rise in the terrain provides cover. He drops to his stomach and flinches in surprise when his three squadmates do the same on his either side.
"What's the plan?" Slip says in between pants.
FN-2187 can't answer him right away. Cody begins to speak into his ear, relaying shouted and signed information coming in from the ghostly lines of vode scouting the battlefield. "There's an X-wing waiting just over the far ridge. The villagers are armed with old A280 blaster rifles. Phasma is ordering the flametroopers to move in. There are women and children hiding in the basement of the largest hut—"
FN-2187's stomach drops even as his head spins. It's too much information at once, and not nearly enough.
"Well?" Zeroes demands. "The kriff? What are we waiting for, you cowards?"
FN-2187 watches a line of stormtroopers get mowed down easily as they charge forwards without cover. Further back, a villager cries out in another language as he takes a blaster bolt to the chest. Two more villagers brave the hailstorm of fire to drag him to safety, and it reminds him too much of the vode.
Domino squad sprint towards them, uncaring of the blaster fire flying through their incorporeal forms. Fives' teeth are bared. "This is wrong," he snarls. "This isn't right, the kriff are we supposed to do? These are good people! The First Order is massicring them for no reason!"
"But he can't do nothing," Fixer points out. "They'll reprogram him!"
FN-2187 wants to be sick.
Something explodes, sending up sparks. Dirt and dust fly into the air. The battle intensifies as the villagers struggle to hold back the endless tide of stormtroopers.
"Eight-seven…?" Nines whispers.
Cody swears. "Hunter says that Phasma's seen you."
FN-2187 swallows down bile. They need to move. "Let's go. Stick to cover."
His squadmates move with him as he runs towards the fray. The closer they get to the village, the worse it becomes. Villagers scream as they retreat. Vases explode, sending fragments of glass and ceramics skittering across FN-2187's armor. A flametrooper steps forwards, weapon spitting columns of flame through the dark air. Everywhere FN-2187 looks, he sees fire and death.
"Left side!" Boss yells. FN-2187 jerks as a blaster bolt barely misses him. A shadowy figure darts away towards the relative safety of the huts. FN-2187 raises his blaster, but his finger stalls on the trigger. Zeroes and Nines have no such hesitations. They tear after the figure with determined shouts.
"Wait—" FN-2187 gasps.
"Over there!" Slip yells, pressing forwards. He fires madly towards the retreating villagers. FN-2187 stumbles, half-blinded by the flames. It feels like his helmet is suffocating him. It's wrong, it's all wrong, he doesn't want to be here, his weapon is a heavy durasteel weight in his hands.
"What do I do?" he says. "Force. What should I do—I can't kill these people, I can't—"
"Then don't!" a clone growls, and FN-2187 looks up to see blue jaig eyes. "But you need to move! You're a sitting duck right now and even if you won't kill them, all they see is your armor!"
"I—"
"Move, that's an order!"
"Yes, sir," FN-2187 chokes out on instinct. He runs for where he'd seen Slip last, dodging past stormtroopers manhandling captured villagers. Rex and Cody sprint alongside him.
"They'll inspect your blaster after the battle's over," Rex says grimly. "Fire it off. You can look like you're doing damage even if you aren't actually hitting your targets."
FN-2187 aims wildly to the left of a hut and fires into the darkness. No one even looks at him twice.
He locates Slip some ways in front of him, pressing closer towards the village center. FN-2187 wonders if he even understands what he's doing, if he realizes that the people they're assaulting have done no crime except host someone who disagrees with the First Order's reign.
Commander Cody continues to relay intel from the scattered clones as he moves. "The X-wing was damaged, and the Resistance pilot is grounded. Your other two squadmates are both alright. There's a fifth ship closing in on our position—"
A vode's voice rises above the din, barely audible above the crackling of flames. "Right side, right side! The pilot! Nari!" FN-2187 drops to the ground. A vibrant blue blaster bolt flies above him. He jerks his head up.
A lone man fires into the fray from the top of the ridge. A stormtrooper falls with every shot. He aims again, and FN-2187 has less than a second to trace the line of the barrel to find his target—
"Slip!" he screams.
The bolt slams into Slip's side. He keels over with a cry, slumping behind a destroyed wall.
"No!" FN-2187 sprints for his squadmate, ducking under another round of blaster fire. He drops to his knees in the sand and rolls his squadmate over.
He nearly recoils at the sight. Slip clutches at the blackened, sizzling hole in his side, body spasming. The blaster bolt must have hit at an odd angle—the wound didn't cauterize completely. Blood trickles across Slip's burnt armor and stains the sand beneath him.
"Oh, Force. Force, please." FN-2187 drops his blaster. "Help me, gaa'tayl, baar'ur, please—!"
A clone with a medic's cross on his shoulder scrambles close. He dives for Slip, hands outstretched, and curses when his fingers go right through. "Put pressure on that wound!" he barks. "You've got to slow the bleeding before you can attach a bacta patch, otherwise it won't stick properly!"
FN-2187 covers the wound and presses down hard. Slip howls, convulsing underneath him. His hands claw at the ground.
"Steady," the medic says. "Keep holding it." He inspects the area around FN-2187's hands. "If you let go, he'll probably die."
FN-2187 takes a shuddering breath and increases the pressure. Slip chokes out a curse, trembling weakly. He slumps into unconsciousness a moment later.
"The First Order does supply its soldiers with bacta, right?" the medic says.
"Solus," FN-2187 mutters, chest squeezing as more blood bubbles up around his fingers.
"One? Kriff me. Those stupid utreekov—"
"Enough, Coric. Let him focus," Rex says, and Coric goes quiet.
"K'oyacyi. K'oyacyi," FN-2187 chants under his breath, as if it could make a difference. "Come on. Come on."
"Sithspit. Rex, they'll see him, won't he be punished for this—?"
"I'm not leaving him!" FN-2187 snarls. "You taught to never leave a man behind!"
"None of us were going to suggest that, vod'ika," Cody says. "You're alright. Udessi."
"We'll figure it out, Coric," Rex says, voice dropping. "We can't save this village. Let him save at least one life today."
"A shuttle is approaching! Upsilon command class!" Commander Cody warns, but his words aren't really necessary—FN-2187 feels Ren's presence far before the shuttle actually touches down, icy cold and awful dark that hits his chest like a punch. He gasps for breath. His hands tremble. He hears stormtroopers barking orders and trembling wails from defeated villagers as the combat dies down, but he can't take his eyes off of his squadmate.
"They've trapped the villagers in the town center," Cody reports.
FN-2187 swallows. "My—traat'aliit?"
"They're there, too. Unharmed."
Pain lances through his skull. FN-2187 grits his teeth and clamps down a cry, doubling over Slip's body. His arms threaten to buckle. He glances to the side and watches Ren stalk by, flanked by several stormtroopers. None of them notice him, thank the Force.
"Demagolka," Coric snarls, voice full of fury.
FN-2187 shivers. "I can't—I can't hold on." Ren is close. Closer than he had been the first time FN-2187 had encountered this awful feeling, and it feels like something in his stomach is rotting and festering, spreading through his chest. He's losing his grip. If he lets go completely, his squadmate might die.
He closes his eyes. If Ren notices, FN-2187 will meet a swift death, but he won't let Slip die.
His thoughts have been scattered and panicked since setting foot on Jakku. It's no simple feet to focus, especially not with the terrifying hum of a lightsaber blade and the sounds of a scuffle in the background, but his desperation helps. He can't reach true meditation, but he can focus enough to take some of the edge away from the pain.
His entire world narrows down to clinging to his feeble defenses and keeping pressure on Slip's wound. He can barely think about anything else. When the three clones still hovering close to him all gasp, he nearly loses his concentration.
"What?" he manages.
Rex balls his fists. "Ren ordered for the villagers to be—"
Blaster fire echoes around them. Rex doesn't need to finish his sentence. FN-2187 feels the blood drain from his face.
Coric's voice trembles, barely audible over the shrieks of the dying. "You're going to have to try to apply the bacta patch now, we're running out of time."
Slip's wound still bleeds sluggishly, but it's not nearly as bad as it had been. FN-2187 doesn't have anything to wipe the excess blood away, so he settles for the backs of his hands and prays that it won't result in an infection. He fishes the bacta patch from his sparsely stocked belt. For a moment, he's worried it won't stick, but he presses down until it seems stable enough that it will last until they can return to the Finalizer.
The gut-wrenching sounds of execution die out after a few moments. FN-2187's stomach heaves.
"Wake him up," Coric orders, sounding nervous. "The stormtroopers are going to start returning soon. You've got to get up."
FN-2187 nods numbly. He shakes Slip's shoulder. "Hey. Hey."
Slip rouses with a groan of pain. He fumbles, barely coherent, as FN-2187 pulls him to his feet. FN-2187 drags him a few paces experimentally and pointedly does not look towards the village center. Stormtroopers bustle around them, checking the burning ruins for anything valuable. A few send them odd looks. A wounded trooper isn't uncommon, but an injured trooper receiving aid beyond a cursory check-over is rare. Most First Order men would have left Slip for dead immediately.
FN-2187 starts to shuffle towards the dropships when he feels an unnatural chill pierce through his chest, stronger than anything he's felt before. He turns.
Ren stands wreathed by flames like a dark wraith. His masked gaze bores into FN-2187. FN-2187 lurches back as he feels darkness gather around him. Pressure squeezes around his mind. Ren takes a slow, menacing step towards them. Then another. Then another.
FN-2187 is going to die.
Something in his chest flickers. A hint of warmth sparks to life.
"No you don't," Dogma growls, planting himself in front of FN-2187. The rest of Torrent squad are right behind him, stepping in between FN-2187 and the sith with balled fists. More clones move forwards, surrounding FN-2187, ready to defend him, even though FN-2187 isn't really sure what they could do against a Sith—
Ren goes still. For a long moment, he stares at FN-2187.
Then he turns and walks away.
FN-2187 can't spare any time to be shocked. He heaves Slip into a better position and flees for the safety of the dropships.
He reunites with Nines and Zeroes halfway up the ramp. Nines is quick to leap to his aid, taking most of the weight. Zeroes doesn't offer to help, but he leaves a larger space for them to stand while supporting their injured teammate, which FN-2187 hopes means something.
He can barely stand, much less comprehend how close he came to death. He glances around for any sign of his translucent guardians and stifles a sound of panic when he doesn't see anyone.
The dropship takes off, leaving Jakku behind. FN-2187 watches for the clones, but it isn't until they've almost reached the Finalizer that he finally notices the faint outline of clone armor next to him. He sighs in relief. The ghost is barely there, but FN-2187 can just make out the outline of a bandana around the clone's forehead.
We're alright. Just tired, Hunter signs—FN-2187 has to squint to make out the signals. Good job.
FN-2187 slumps in relief.
Ren could be suspicious, and the First Order took the Resistance spy captive, but FN-2187's squadmates are alive, he's alive, the clones are alright, and he doesn't want to think about anything but his stiff bunk in the barracks for the next twelve hours, at least.
A/N:
Mando'a:
Traat'aliit gar besbe'trayc- The squad is your weapon
Kandosii- Well done
Me'bana?- what's happening?
Haalur- breathe
Jate- good
Tug'yc- again
Udesii- calm down
Kotep- brave
K'oyacyi- Stay alive
Nari- move
Gaa'tayl- help
Baar'ur- medic
Solus- one
Traat'aliit- squad
Demagolka- someone who commits atrocities, a real-life monster, a war criminal
It's been a while since I've updated any of my fics, and I just want to reiterate how seriously grateful I am that you guys continue to show me your support! Your comments and encouragement brighten my day! Thank you thank you thank you for your friendship and patience. Things are gonna start getting exciting real quick in this fic, so stay tuned for more sometime in the future! For those of you waiting for a dominoes update, I'm going to start working on that next! Until then! -meridianpony