Notes: I've been thinking up this fic for over a year, writing bits here and there, but haven't found the guts to post until now. With the absolute state of Star Wars at the moment, I feel driven by rage and disappointment to fix everything I hate about this franchise, so here we are!
At the moment, I don't envision this work containing anything too dark, but Rey is working through some painful stuff and it's going to get messy for her. No squeaky clean Reys here. Also, Finn and Rose were done incredibly dirty in the last film, and I want to remedy that. Accordingly, this work spends a lot of time with these characters, especially Finn. Please excuse him if he's not as good to Rose as he should be to begin with - I'm just trying to follow what was laid out in canon.
Finally, we are in this for the long haul - thanks to TROS, these characters have got a lot of work to do before they get their happy endings - but happy endings are on their way for everybody. It's what they deserve.
Soft fingertips on his cheeks, his forehead. A voice that felt like home telling him – no, promising him… promising what? The words danced at the edge of his memory, but try as he might, he could not recall anything but the serene warmth of somebody who loved him. He was safe, and he was home, and that was all he knew. Comforted, he let the darkness take him.
o-o-o
The descent to Coruscant was his best yet, and – noticing the huddle of pilots wasting time around the landing bays, sharing jokes over a cup of caf between shifts – he silently thanked the Force. He held up a hand in greeting as he passed, trying to act like landing an RZ-3 A-wing was a regular occurrence for him. In truth, he had less than forty hours of flight time in the damn thing.
Supposedly, as soon as Poe heard that Finn was flying these days, he had ordered the starfighter allocated for his personal use immediately. Finn wasn't sure if it was supposed to be a joke. A-wings were notoriously difficult to fly, of course, and he was sure Poe expected him to crash the starfighter at the first opportunity. Then again, he didn't think the Alliance had that kind of money to spare, so perhaps it was Poe's genuine idea of a gift after all. Either way, Finn had his own tricks up his sleeve that would ensure the starfighter arrived at the galactic capital in one piece.
Finn took his first real look at the planet he would be staying on indefinitely. He had never set foot on Coruscant before, though the sprawling network of cities had been established as the headquarters of the New Alliance in 2 ASI.
Following the destruction of Hosnian Prime, the galaxy had been rudderless. The Resistance had been in no position to establish a planetary stronghold after the Battle of Crait, and the First Order's mobile capital had been reduced to a scavenger's playground in the Outer Rim. The absence of governance following the Battle of Exegol left the people of the galaxy teetering on the edge of chaos, and so, in the scramble to establish a capital for the new governing body, Coruscant (what with its strategic location, its diverse population, and most importantly, its existing infrastructure primed to receive an embryonic government) was the natural choice. Some had reservations about establishing the Alliance on a planet which had seen countless empires rise and fall throughout its long history. Superstition dictated that any government built upon that world was doomed to fail, but truthfully, they had had little choice.
Once upon a time, Finn might have been enthralled by the glittering spires that stretched as far as the eye could see. Perhaps he would have envisioned freedom in the glass and durasteel shapes of Coruscant, imagined forging a new life in the city, untethered from any cause. Live free, don't join. That's what DJ had told him, wasn't it? Years later, Finn huffed a bittersweet smile at the sentiment and wondered how the treacherous bastard was coping in this new world. In spite of everything, Finn found that he wished him well.
Yes, once upon a time, Finn might have loved Coruscant, but after all of the places he'd seen? All of the natural bounty that the galaxy had to offer? Well, this hunk of rock – devoid of life as it was – couldn't compare.
o-o-o
Finn did not recognise any of the people he crossed paths with on his journey to the presidential offices, but he sensed that plenty of them recognised him. Eyes lingered a little too long, conversations stopped dead in their tracks as he passed. In the turbolift up to the Houses of the Alliance, his fellow passengers exchanged looks with one another and fidgeted where they stood, as though debating whether to say something.
The attention was uncomfortable, and something he wasn't used to. During his travels, he had visited places hardly touched by the war; where 'Finn, the First Order defector' was nothing more than an inconsequential rumour mentioned once upon a time at a market stall. For two years, Finn had lived fairly anonymously, but now he found himself feeling self-conscious. He couldn't help wondering what they thought of him, whether he matched up to their expectations. After all, it had been quite some time since he'd walked amongst his associates, and perhaps he looked as different as he felt.
His fingers wandered involuntarily to the weapon tucked into a holster at his thigh, hidden from view by the trench coat he had procured in Salis D'aar. It was a nervous habit he had picked up in moments of self-doubt, something that reminded him of who he was when he started to lose sight of himself. The weapon would remain his secret for a little while longer, but that was alright because he knew it was there. He knew what it meant.
Encouraged by the thought, Finn stood up a little straighter as he arrived at his destination.
o-o-o
From the outside, the Houses of the Alliance were like the rest of Coruscant – sterile and shiny. Built upon the shell of the old Senate Office Building, it was just another angular structure on the skyline, perched like a pyramid atop the bulbous shape of the Galactic Republic era building. From the inside, it was a different story.
The main lobby was a breath-taking affair. Before him, three walls of glass and ferrocrete offices stretched towards the stars, climbing inwards until they tapered into a wide opening. From there, torrents of water poured through, falling in sheets into a vast pool flanked by turbolifts on each side. Behind him, a wall of glass reached the height of the pyramid, crisscrossed by enormous steel beams. Lush foliage wove itself between them like a tapestry, the glossy leaves of jungle vegetation forming a canopy which cast the late afternoon sun in a dappled light across the lobby. Everywhere, mossy vines and pristine white flora dripped from the structure, providing some much-needed greenery on a planet that was otherwise bereft of it. It was an industrial jungle – reminiscent of Ajan Kloss – and he decided he liked it.
He descended the steps towards the hefty ferrocrete reception desk which took pride of place between the waterfall and the main turbolifts. Working hours were over, and the lobby was relatively quiet save for a handful of personnel milling around the waterfall. At the desk, an AD-5T droid waited diligently to receive guests, and Finn could hear its VerboBrain whir as he approached.
'How may I help you today?' it intoned.
'I'm here to see General Poe Dameron, he's expecting me,' Finn offered, leaning his forearms on the ferrocrete. 'The name's Finn.'
'Surname, please.'
'Not yet,' he shrugged, trying not to linger on the thought any longer than necessary.
The droid input the information. 'Error. Secretary Dameron has finished his appointments for the day.'
Finn frowned. 'Secretary? Look, just let him know I'm here, he'll want to see me.'
The droid whirred. 'Error. It is against my programming to perform favours, but it is possible to offer you an appointment in twenty two days. Would you like to proceed?'
'Twenty two days?! Listen, I've travelled a long way to be here today. I know you have your protocols–
'Programming.'
'Programming. Right,' he paused. 'Does it matter?! If you would just–'
'Finn? Is that you, buddy?'
Finn looked up to find the owner of the voice – surprisingly difficult over the roar of the waterfall – and there he was, exiting one of the turbolifts on the left hand side of the lobby, accompanied by a small group of envoys.
'Poe', he breathed. He couldn't help the wide grin that spread across his face as he began marching towards the man that changed the course of his life. Poe matched his pace and before long they were jogging towards one another, snickering like children. When he was finally within touching distance, he didn't even think before throwing his arms around his oldest friend with such force that he nearly knocked them both into the pool. They hooted with laughter as they struggled to regain their balance, finally stepping away to get a good look at one another.
Poe let out a low whistle. 'Well, look at you.'
Finn made a show of posing like one of the fashion models he had seen on the HoloNet, twirling this way and that, much to Poe's amusement. He knew two years away looked good on him, but he wasn't sure he could say the same of his friend.
Time had caught up with Poe. His dark curls were flecked with grey, and he would have pulled it off were it not for the general air of exhaustion which enveloped the man. Deep set worry lines were etched across his brow, his olive skin was dull and sallow, and it seemed like bruises had taken up permanent residence beneath his dark eyes. Perhaps Finn's surprise showed on his face, because Poe grimaced.
'I know,' he sighed. 'This job is… hard.'
Finn didn't know what to say. Luckily, he didn't have to say anything at all, because at that moment, one of the Gran huddled next to the turbolifts chittered something in a language he did not understand.
'Sir, Kron Voe would like to know whether business is done for the day. They are keen to return to their accommodation,' C-3PO translated, appearing next to Poe seemingly from nowhere. 'Oh, Master Finn! It's been so long that I hardly recognised–'
'OK, let's wrap it up, 3PO. Our friends are waiting,' Poe stepped in front of the golden droid before he could start rambling. He turned to Finn. 'I need to finish up here. Do you have somewhere to be?'
Finn shook his head. 'I just got here, but–'
'OK, I'll send a droid to pick up your things and arrange a transport to my place. I'll meet you in an hour at–'
'Poe,' he interrupted, turning serious. 'Where's Rey?'
A shadow passed over Poe's face. He looked away from Finn and sighed.
'I'll meet you in an hour at the bar at the top of the complex. Open a tab in my name.'
With that, he clapped Finn on the shoulder, and hurried away to the waiting Gran with C-3PO in tow. Finn watched them descend into the belly of the old Senate Office Building, and then he was alone with his worry and the administrative droid at the desk, still waiting for his response.
Notes: Quite a short introduction, but we're laying the groundwork. I've tried to be as faithful to canon as possible, but I have taken some liberties to account for the passage of time and a changed galaxy unburdened by war. I envision the Houses of the Alliance as a Louvre/Changi/Burj Al Arab hybrid, if that helps at all.