Chapter 10 - A Walk in the Desert

Jakku

The Graveyard of Giants

Finn didn't recall the crash. Didn't even feel it as the smoking remains of the TIE-Defender Mk. III was thrown head over heels through the planet's atmosphere like a comet. It burned brightly like the brightest star, trailing behind a long plume of oily black smoke. Spinning and spinning, the TIE-Defender smashed into the scarlet soil of Jakku much like its ancestors did over a generation prior. It ripped through the sands, leaving behind a long arching crash some seventy feet long as bits and pieces of the fighter were torn away until only the cockpit and wing wedges with shards of the solar panels remained. At the end of it, Finn felt as though he was someplace else as he slumped over in his chair, his mind spinning in a drooling daze and his senses blurred beyond any point of recognition.

All he could truly see or feel in that moment was the numbness in his bones, the pricking in his fingers, and the constant red haze that seemed to clog his vision. There was a noise, too. Some sort of whining.

"Whining… red haze…" he muttered softly, his voice sounding so very far away. But there was something else, too. Something he couldn't identify for long stretching moments. Then, in a flash, it woke him. Screaming!

"Poe!" Finn shouted. He was alert, he was awake. And he was conscious of the smoke filling the cockpit around him. Thick, oily stuff that burned at his nostrils and made his eyes water. In such a position, any ordinary man would be excused for panicking. But Finn was not ordinary, and as the tension of the moment rolled upon him like the heat of the sun, his training kicked in automatically.

First, he located his helmet, slipping it on in a mere few seconds. As fresh oxygen and the helmets filters came online, his next move was to unstrap and move to the front of the craft, to where Poe was.

"Poe?" he asked as his hand instinctually began removing his straps, "Are you alright? What happened?"

The look on Poe's face was one of extreme pain.

"My leg," he coughed desperately, "I think it's broken!"

Finn nodded, looking down where Poe was clutching his left leg above the knee. The smoke was far too thick down there for him to see properly, so he switched to Thermal upon command. Looking downward, Finn could see that the leg itself was fairly straight and that there were no outside nor internal protrusions, suggesting that the bone had not been splintered nor directly split. That would make it easier, but first Finn needed to ensure they could get out of the burning craft first.

"Hold on," and he stood up to the hatch. He tried remotely opening the grav-seal, but it didn't respond. He removed his vibro-knife from its sheath and began precisely slicing into the vacuum seal holding the frame together, cutting it away and free. Sheathing his weapon, he then put his weight into his shoulder and began pushing. He could feel the craft starting the groan beneath him. That sent a shudder down his spine. On Parnassos, quick-sand and brittle salt patties had been the death of many a Trooper, and he was worried they might have just landed on one.

So, he froze and waited. The groaning continued and then stopped after a few moments. Finn looked down and he could see Poe was beginning to pass out from the smoke filling the cabin. With this, he threw everything he had into his shoulder and the hatch went free. Sunlight poured through the open hatchway, and Finn moved to push Poe through it. The effort was difficult in his awkward positioning, and Poe screamed in pain as his leg came free from the seat and dangled in midair. Finn then pushed up after him, seeing fire spreading all around the black and charred ruins of the fighter.

With no other choice, Finn grabbed Poe and hurled him away from the craft, insuring he would land on his back and away from his broken leg; hoping the sand would be enough of a cushion for him. With this, Finn leapt like a jungle cat just as the fire spread further into the canopy. He landed with a roll, and immediately dragged Poe as far away from the burning hunk as he could, fearing the craft might very well explode. But after waiting for close to a minute, Finn moved on to his next task. He ripped away the flight suit around Poe's leg, and there was met with a bruised mass of purple and black.

Finn wasn't a Medic, and cursed the fact he didn't have a scanner. Because of this fact, he didn't know how extensive the injury was. Finn was however trained in first aid. Softly, he applied pressure to the leg itself, feeling for any intrusions and to check if the bone was still largely intact. For the most part, it was. However, from the screaming Poe gave when he came upon the most sensitive areas, he suspected it had to have been at least a fracture.

Finn's first thought was to try and retrieve the survival kit that would've been stored with the Defender, but he knew that would've likely been burned up by now. His second was how he was going to create a splint for the leg to keep the bone straight and secure. Looking around at the wreckage all around him, that wouldn't be too much of an issue. His third was to address how he was going to move Poe. Looking up at the sky, Finn knew it was only a matter of hours before the First Order would find them, which meant they needed to get as far away from here as possible.

Poe couldn't walk, and trying to carry him would be far too much of a strain in the long run. He would need to make a stretcher and drag Poe. But what could he make it out of? He looked back at the body of the craft, and after a moment of studying its wreck saw what he was looking for.

"I'll be back."

"No… hurry," Poe groaned as Finn trotted back down the hill. He made his way to the back of the craft, dancing over the fire and debris until he came across the fighter's drag chute. It hadn't been launched, and he doubted Poe had known about it. Besides, neither of them had been in much of a state to use it in the first place. Still, it would be useful now.

As it turned out, Finn had been right earlier. No sooner than he'd cut the chute compartment free from the body of the fighter, the smoldering wreck started to sink into the soil. In less than a minute, the entirety of the TIE Defender had been dragged to the bottom of the proverbial depths of the desert. Finn had only barely escaped the desert trap with his cargo, the soil suctioning onto his armor and trying to drag him down. Finn however had been expecting it, and had slowly managed to make his way to shore before dragging himself on to firmer ground.

Ironically, the near-death experience had been a blessing in disguise. It bought them time by removing the largest evidence of their arrival. Though how much, Finn didn't know. He knew that the ship's navigational analysts would've estimate generally where they would be, and it wouldn't be long before they'd start seeing search patrols. With this in mind, Finn got to work.

Setting aside the chute, he searched the long stretching crash site, slicing through various rods of debris left over with his vibro-knife until he had enough of the right sizes he wanted.

"Heh," Poe joked as Finn began setting his leg and applying a split, "I think you missed your true calling! Should've been a sawbones rather than a- gah!" he screamed as Finn tightened the hold on the splint, causing Poe to finally pass out.

"Honestly?" Finn commented as he moved to the chute, "I don't think so."

Using the knife, he sliced the chute up into a long rectangle with loose strands to be used as knots. These he tied onto the rods leftover, forming a box frame. After testing its integrity, he moved Poe into it and secured him to the post. The weight pull hard into his shoulders and back, but it wasn't anything he couldn't handle. The urgency of the moment forced him onwards as the pair of them quickly escaped into the desert.

An hour later, they came across the first patrol. Finn's helmet picked it up from miles away and it gave him time to take cover as a TIE Striker came screaming overhead. He dove under the ruins of a solitary Y-Wing, partially covering Poe in sand and hoping that the Striker hadn't noticed them. Considering it didn't turn around, Finn guessed it hadn't. Still, he waited under the shade of destroyed bomber, watching the skies.

Meanwhile, his mind pondered what their next move should be. Things had gotten far too complicated, Finn admitted. They were in the middle of nowhere, and while he did have a general sense of the directions of the planet and where a settlement might be, he didn't know how far away it was. It could be hours, or it could be weeks. He didn't know.

With the weight of what he didn't know starting to crushing his already diminishing spirits, Finn focused on what he did know. They were alive. They had some provisions, entirely in the form of what he had stored in his equipment belt. Food wasn't much of an importance in the desert, but water was.

He removed the canteen from his belt and gave it a quick check. It was full, and by himself, Finn could ration it to a few swallows every other hour and make it last for a few days. However, now he had Poe to consider, and he was dragging him. If they were both on foot, they could make a considerable distance inasmuch a considerable amount of time without consuming too much water in the process. But that wasn't the case.

Poe was crippled, and Finn was expending precious energy dragging him, which in turn would inevitably make him consume more water. He could go a day if not more without water, but trying that while pulling Poe about would only potentially kill him. Exhaustion and dehydration were his greatest enemies… but not his only ones, he admitted. He'd hoped they would be able to get far enough away from the crash within the first few hours, maybe find someplace to hide and rest.

Unfortunately, they hadn't gotten far enough. If they were still in the search patterns of Strikers, they were still not far enough away. They were still close enough to be spotted, and once that happened… well, he might as well spare the pair of them the cruelty the First Order would no doubt show them. It was funny in a way. Finn had never much paid the enemies of the Order any sense of pity, especially not during a hunt.

Now he was in their shoes. He wouldn't laugh, but he would admit the irony.

"Focus," he whispered to himself, "get back to the mission."

He had to get off the planet with Poe alive. Finn's own survival was just an extension of making sure that happened. After that? Well, he didn't much care. There was also the droid to consider, but that thing could be anywhere, and trying to find it might just get them killed.

No, he had to focus on one thing at a time. Slowly, he went down the list of things he had to accomplish from largest and most imperative to smallest and most manageable. They had to get off the planet, they had to find a ship, they had to find a settlement, they had to find shelter and water… they had to get out of the area. He focused on that first, and went through his options.

Instinct told him he'd have a better chance of making it if he waited until night, which would not only would give him time to rest, plan and travel easier, but it would also make their approach far less detectable. However, logic told him that doing so would just increased their chance of being found, considering they were still in the search radius. He needed to get far away from here, first. Of course, there was the nagging doubt that he might just be heading straight into even deeper desert with no shelter or water available. But it was a risk he would have to take. He removed his canteen, and took a sip, no more and no less.

His throat begged for more, but he ignored it. After checking the skies again, he grabbed Poe and began double timing it in an eastward direction.

It was several hours before Poe finally regained consciousness, rubbing at the piece of parachute Finn had wrapped around his head to prevent him from cooking in the sun. Finn hadn't actually noticed for several minutes, his mind entirely locked in the process of counting steps and watching the skies above.

"Well, hello there!" Poe laughed, "Are you my nurse, by any chance? Wouldn't mind the ol' complimentary pudding! Chocolate's my favorite!"

"Hilarious," Finn shrugged as he kept on marching forward. He looked up at the sky. It would be a few more hours before dusk, and Finn considered pushing through the night. He'd run into another patrol an hour back, but that was far enough away that he didn't fear them being spotted. Still-

"Um, Finn? You do realize there's a crack in your armor, right?"

Finn froze.

"What? Where?"

"Along your back. Dunno how deep it is, but it's there. I just noticed it."

"...you just noticed it?"

"Buddy, I'm in pain," Poe responded sardonically, "I'm in a lot of pain, and it's taking everything I've got to not scream my head off! And on top of that, I've been out for a bit of a while, so cut me some slack, okay?"

"Fair enough," Finn sighed as he removed his helmet. He hadn't realized how much he was sweating. At the sight of this, he practically ripped the torso armor from his body, examining it in his hands. His air conditioning and power pack had been built into the back plate, right where the crack was. It wasn't too severe looking, but it did make him worry. Unfortunately, he didn't have the tools nor the time to take it apart and examine it thoroughly. He quickly donned the armor again, and brought up his internal systems; checking the temperature and climate gauge.

It read normally, but he didn't know if the sensors too had been damaged.

"I'll just add that to the growing list of things I still don't know."

Poe heard that bit, and assumed the rest. He looked skyward, and then behind him at the long trail stretching back for miles.

"Let's wait for the cover of night then get a move on. That'll limit our chances of being found," Poe groaned as a new well of pain shot through his leg. Finn just shook his head:

"No, we need to keep moving."

"Buddy, like it or not, your armor's broken, and you've been going at this for… what half a day now?"

"My armor's fine," Finn grumbled back, "and this is nothing I haven't handled before," he then removed his canteen and handed it to Poe, "take a sip. Save your energy."

Poe took it with a smirk.

"Is that your way of telling me to shut up?"

Finn didn't answer, and as soon as he got his canteen back, he started the march again. Poe went several minutes without starting a conversation, but in the end it would've been like asking him not to breathe.

"You seem to be taking this pretty well."

"'This?'" Finn asked.

"Yeah, this. All this," he gestured around them at the miles of empty red dunes, "us being stranded, you carrying me, the place feeling like some kind of damn oven?"

"Parnassos was worse."

"Parnassos? Never heard of it."

"Doubt you would. It's deep in the Unknown Regions."

"Oh? That so? What was it like?"

"Hot."

Poe looked at him crossly.

"Hot? That's it? C'mon, there's gotta be more to it."

Finn sighed after a bit. He didn't much see the point of holding back information. He was a traitor anyway. Besides, he did admit it helped keep his mind occupied beyond the general hopelessness of the situation.

"Parnassos used to be a mining world, settled by the Old Republic several hundred years ago."

"Then why haven't I heard of it?"

"Because of what happened there. There was… an accident. Once, it was mountainous and green with deep blue oceans. Then, a nuclear reactor went off. It devastated the planet. Scorched the earth to a deep purple, turned the mountains and spires black as obsidian glass. Made the oceans toxic and foul. Then there was the weather. One moment it could be so hot your skin would boil. The next, thunderstorms so fierce it could destroy cities. Radioactive winds that could kill you in seconds. And of course, the acid rain. It was always unpredictable, had to be prepared at all times."

"One nuclear reactor did that?"

"...I don't know."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean the history of what happened there has been buried. Officially, reports suggest the Con Star Mining Corporation was there, and then they weren't. Everything else was hearsay. Mostly from my Captain."

Poe shook his head.

"No way in the galaxy one reactor could do that! You would need multiple thermonuclear strikes across the planet, and even then-"

"It happened, Poe. I spent most of my childhood on that planet."

"Wait, Parnassos was your home?"

"No. I was trained there."

Poe looked at him incredulously.

"Why would anybody want to train on a planet like that?"

"Why do think? If you weren't strong enough to survive on that planet, you wouldn't be strong enough for combat."

"That's fair, I suppose. Look, I'm not saying that the planet isn't like what you described but the way you're telling me is a bit far fetched… what's the unofficial record say?"

Finn didn't answer at first. He rolled it in his mind, wondering just how much more he should say. But, in the end, what was the point?

"Phasma, my Captain, believes that the planet was used for a weapons test. And when they were done, they left the planet and everybody on it to die. Covered it up, and then erased the memory."

"Okay, that makes a lot more sense. Still… I've never heard of Con Star. Curious what happened to them."

"You tell me."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You serve the government that enforces the laws protecting the company and others like it."

"Uh huh, buddy. That's the Old Republic. That died almost two generations ago. No, I serve the New Republic."

Finn looked back at him for a moment, asking:

"Is there a difference?"

"Yes." Poe deadpanned, "Then again, I guess your superiors didn't tell you that."

"All right then, enlighten me," he shrugged. Surprisingly to Poe, his tone wasn't combative or challenging. It was more… apathetic, in a way, "Tell me how is the "New" Republic differs from the bureaucratic cesspool that was the Old Republic?"

"We do have a Senate, but it's not as powerful or as centralized as it was in the waning days of the Old Republic. Most matters of the people are handled by the individual planets and sectors, usually through their Sector Representatives."

"So you have even more self serving politicians. I fail to see the difference here."

"Well, how about the fact that they don't have unlimited terms of service, unlike the Old Republic? Everybody has two terms in office, that's it. Senators have two terms of six years, Representatives three. The Chancellor has two terms that last for four years each."

Finn rose an eyebrow, obviously intrigued, "How does this work exactly?"

"Also like the Old Republic, we have three branches of government: the Executive, Judicial and Legislative. However, they each have checks and balances over the other."

"What does that mean, exactly?"

"Well, to put it simply, if one gets a little too greedy, the other two can gang up on him. This is all set up to preserve the rights of the people."

"...'rights of the people'," Finn repeated after a moment of contemplation, "you say that as if the rights were given rather than earned."

Poe's eyes hardened and he sat straight up, ignoring the pain in his leg as he bored into Finn, "Listen, buddy. The New Republic was built on the sweat, blood, and tears of people who fought against that exact same worldview. Those brave men and women fought because they believed that everyone has the right to freedom. It is our inalienable right as living beings."

"That's a contradiction right there," he countered calmly.

"How is it a contradiction?" Poe asked.

"Because those people you spoke of fought for their 'right' to exist, therefore earning it. Something given has no value, and if something has no value, it has no right to exist. I learned that only comes from force, from violence. I was taught that is the supreme authority, and only through violence can anything exist. As you said, your New Republic was born from violence."

"By that logic the Empire did not have the right to exist since Palpatine got it through back hand means."

"No, the Empire rose as a natural successor to the Old Republic, which failed to survive the Clone Wars. Only through strength can something survive. It doesn't matter what part Palpatine played."

"Okay, then the Empire wasn't strong enough to survive against the New Republic, or even the Alliance for that matter, and therefore lost the right to exist."

"I can agree to that," Finn shrugged, "the Empire grew complacent, and it fell. That much is history."

Poe was somewhat flabbergasted by that answer, and as such laid back down in his stretcher. Finn took the hint and continued marching. Poe, however, wasn't entirely finished:

"You say the Empire grew complacent. What do you mean by that, exactly?"

"The Empire was the strongest in the beginning, when every single individual contributed to its success. When the whole of society contributed to the prosperity and welfare of the nation itself. However, the generation that followed grew lax and corrupt. They cared for their own personal success rather than the wellbeing of the state. This was because they were given their right to rule rather than having earned it. As such, when the Galactic Civil War commenced, they lacked the spirit to fight it properly, and as such paid the price."

"Has it ever occured to you that people in the long run don't want an oppressive system?"

"Even if it keeps them safe?" Finn more stated than replied, as though he was quoting something rather than voicing an actual opinion, "Would they have prefered life before the Empire when corporations could invade worlds like Naboo without consequence?"

"My father taught me many things. One of them was this. If you sacrifice liberty for security, you will get and deserve neither. Also, the people of Naboo have made damn sure that what happened with the Trade Federation and the Empire will never happen again."

"How so?"

Poe smirked, "Lets just say that Naboo became one of the strongest military powers in the New Republic. I may love my X-Wing, but I won't argue against the effectiveness of their N-line starfighters, or their dedicated carriers, either. They've come a long way since being at the mercy of corporations, as you say."

"In a way," Finn said after a moment, "you prove my point."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Only through strength can something survive. Clearly, to survive, Naboo became stronger through the use of force."

"That's fair," Poe nodded before countering, "but they don't use that force to subjugate people. Just to defend themselves."

"Is there a difference between the two? When does defending your people turn to defending your interests?"

"History. As the Naboo say, country and people come first before tyrants. Remember, Palpatine came from Naboo. They know that better than anybody else. But you wanna know what they have that makes them want to defend their home?" Poe asked Finn, "They got spirit. They remember the blood their ancestors shed for them so they could have the freedom to choose. So they'll defend that freedom to their last dying breath. In short, though their fathers and grandfathers earned their own right to exist, it's up to us to hold those rights. Even through violence if necessary."

"Admirable," Finn nodded simply, "but it always seems to fall apart generations later."

"Only when we forget."

Night had fallen a few hours later, and with a wary eye on the horizon, Finn agreed to stop for the night. They'd found a shallow cave hemmed in on all sides by the tons of sand. It was a lucky find because no sooner than they had, the wind picked up and the temperature dropped. Finn recognize the treachery of light gales evolving into a storm, so with haste he and Poe took cover. Snuggled inside, they were secure enough as the wind continued to grow until it became exactly as Finn predicted.

Outside, the sand storm wailed like a banshee. Whispering terrors of Jakku, bringing with it tons of scarlet sand. The result was that the entrance to their cave constantly threatened to be buried in, and Finn had to constantly dig through the layers. The effort lasted hours, and though Finn refused to show it, Poe could see the exhaustion radiating from him. Finally, the wind died down enough for him to start a small, controllable fire; more for Poe's own comfort than his own.

As the chemical induced fire crackled softly in softly purring winds, Finn removed a small ration partial from his belt and tossed it over to Poe. The stuff tasted bland, but that wasn't much of a surprise to him. Anything labelled as being healthy and nutritious rarely tasted good. Still, it was food, and he ate it down. Followed by his small water ration, and he was ready to talk again, though his throat protested the effort.

"Y'know, I'm curious about something," Poe interrupted the Troopers mental stewing, "you keep mention this idea of 'earning' and 'giving' rights. What exactly do you mean by that?"

Finn looked up at him, staring blankly back.

"You have a fondness for questions, don't you?"

Poe smirked at him roguishly, "I'm an inquisitive kind of a guy, sue me."

"I'd rather just shoot you," Finn joked dryly.

"You know, I'm not sure if I should feel threatened or pleased that you actually have a sense of humor."

Finn deadpanned him, "Humor has no place in combat."

"We're not in combat though."

"Exactly."

Poe laughed a bit at that, and Finn couldn't help but chuckle a bit too. He settled back against the stonewall, holding his helmet in both hands and watching the reflection staring back at him.

"Do you understand the difference between a citizen and a civilian?"

Poe looked at him, slightly confused.

"There isn't one, at least not from where I come from."

Finn looked at him blankly again; sighing after a moment before explaining:

"A citizen is one who has earned the right to participate in the society he has fought to defend. A civilian has not."

"Wait… you mean only soldiers get the right of citizenship?"

"No, not entirely. Service to the state is the fundamental responsibility of all those born within our space. Citizenship is earned as a result."

"So… does a janitor earn the same rights then as a Trooper?" Poe asked with a smile.

"Only if the mess is a true fight," Finn said humorously, "if nothing else, it provides purpose. Unity. All peoples working towards the same goal."

"Finn, no offense, but do you actually believe that?"

Finn looked at him blankly again, but then his eyes slid sideways to the ground, and he sighed.

"I don't know anymore."

Poe watched him for a long moment looking for something in the man's face. He didn't quite know what. After a long while, he sat up in his stretcher, sighing as he did. He'd put it off for far too long and now that they had the time…

"Finn," he began before pausing a breath, "why did you save me, exactly?"

Finn didn't answer. He just continued to look at nothing in particular on the ground, his face a grim mask. Poe waited, and nodded after a while, settling back onto the ground. Then Finn began speak, distant and morbid:

"Because I need to know why."

"Why?"

Finn sighed, and turned to face him.

"All my life, I was taught that as a soldier I was an agent of order, the very embodiment of it. I was taught that New Republic was a doomed state that went back to the old ways of doing things. That the galaxy suffered under its corruption, and that I would be the instrument to bring back the days of the Empire. Days when peace and prosperity were enforced."

Poe said nothing, only listened. And after a moment, Finn continued:

"I… I don't recall having parents. I was… orphaned. My brothers… my fellow troopers, were the only family I knew. While I was the same age as them, they looked up to me. Entrusted me to lead them, to get them through the war alive."

Poe remembered the look Finn had given him in the TIE Defender. Somehow… he knew.

"Then the attack on that village happened, and I saw what I truly was," he sighed wearily, staring down once more into his reflection, gleaming off the visor, "my men… my brothers… my entire squad…" though he fought against it, Finn's voice finally cracked, "they were killed. Killed fighting people who just wanted to be left alone. In that moment, I wanted nothing more than to die. To let something come and take me. Then I ran into that broken down shack... with you… and the family."

Poe's eyes widened in realization but he still kept quiet.

"I had the opportunity. I could have killed you. You looked away from me. You looked at that family, to protect them. I let you go, but then you were captured, and that family…" his hands began to shake, Finn's emotions contorting between grief and anger, tears streaming down his cheeks, "They looked at me. They pleaded with me. Then Phasma gave the order," Finn closed his eyes and bowed his head with gritted teeth, his words coming out as a snarl, "I pulled the trigger."

Poe stared at him, his face entirely unreadable.

"It is not the first time I have killed," Finn shook his head, the helmet dropping from his shaking fingers, "it is not even the first time I have killed families. But then it had been different. On Parnassos, it was kill or be killed. The tribals of the world were trained to kill from birth," Finn's eyes opened as he stared at Poe, "just like me. Even their children were deadly killers. Mercy… mercy was not something we could afford to give."

He hung his head, his hands tightening into fists.

"But… when I looked into their eyes…" he choked up, unable to continue. Poe in turn waited. Waited until he was ready. And after taking the helmet in his hands again, once more staring down at the reflection of man he did not recognize, he spoke again:

"We were told that the New Republic was a monster. That it's people, it's armies, it's leaders were monsters. But when you did what you did…" he then looked upon Poe with a face of self-directed hatred, "I am no agent of order, no harbinger of peace and prosperity. I am the monster."

He shook his head in disgust, letting the helmet fall one last time.

"I couldn't let you die. Not like my men. Not like the people of the village. When I… when I looked into the eyes of those I've killed, and when they begged for their lives… I did nothing," he then stared back at Poe, his eyes full of conviction and purpose, "I will not let you die, Poe Dameron. Even if it means my own life to do it."

Poe shook his head and crawled over, ignoring the biting pain flaring up through him. Face to face with his savior, he took him by his pouldrun and shook him once.

"I don't want your life, Finn. We'll both get out of this, y'hear me? You and me."

He then sat back down, the fire showing the intensity in his eyes as he stated with an air of certitude:

"I don't care about the man you were. I only care about the man I see before me. The man who risked everything to save me. So, if you're wanting to get me out alive, then you're damn well coming with me."

Finn shook his head at him in disbelief, asking:

"Why?"

"Why?" Poe asked him back.

"Why would you give a killer that chance? Why?"

"Because my own father was an Imperial," Poe replied, staring into the fire, "he was a Stormtrooper, just like you. Fought and killed for the wrong side, just like you."

"What changed?"

"He met my mother. She was a Rebel Fighter Pilot, Green Squadron. A-Wing. One of the best," he said with an air of pride, "and when he met her during the Battle of Sullust... he was a changed man."

Finn stared at him, unsure of what to make of it. Poe continued:

"My father had a checkered past. He did things, terrible things… but I don't care. My mother taught me that it isn't about what we did then that matters. It's what we do now that does. And you… you saved me. You turned your back on everything you knew to save a complete stranger. That makes you a good man in my book."

"I'm not a good man," Finn said, closing his eyes and facing the ground before him as though it was an accusing mass, "I don't think I'll ever will be."

Poe just shook his head at him with a small smile:

"Buddy, we all have our demons, but the fact that you are showing genuine guilt over what happened back there… that tells me that you are on the road, whether you know it or not."

Finn looked at him for a long time. Looked at the man he saved, and wondered… if what he said could be true? He didn't know. He probably never would, and he might not live long enough to find out.

"Get some sleep, Poe," Finn nodded simply, "we'll move at first light. It'll be too dangerous with the storm tonight."

"Right," Poe chuckled, lying down at on stretcher, "good talk."

It finally happened at noon on the third day. Evidence of it had slowly crept into Finn's mind, small tale-tell signs here and there. Sudden rises in temperature, sudden discomforts in the armor, even the very fact that he was sweating more than he should have. However, he hadn't noticed. In the back of his mind, he cursed his weakness, his lapse of observation.

However, the long march through the desert, their water finally depleting half a day earlier despite Finn's careful rationing, and his growing exhaustion from ferrying Poe across countless miles of trackless, endless scarlet sands took a toll on his mind. Even Poe, who had rejected most of his own rations of water when he began seeing the signs of Finn weakening, was not in it entirely. His mind ached, his body pulsating with sudden cold and pain, and his own general signs of weakness. He knew signs of infection when he saw it. Finn did what he could, but he only had minimal supplies on hand.

Yet another thing that pressed against Finn's mind, distracting him. So he pushed himself harder. He had to get to a settlement, any settlement. His heart soared when out of the dunes an old Imperial-II Star Destroyer came into view. A ship like this meant scavengers. Scavengers meant civilization.

Then it happened. His back suddenly throbbed with an intense heat as white smoke petered out from the crack in his armor. After three days of hard use, the damaged power pack had finally overheated. Before Finn or Poe could do anything, it erupted. Finn was sent hurtling forward, his entire back plate exploding outward.

Finn's bodysuit absorbed most of the damage, dispersing the kinetic force. Under normal circumstances, Finn would have been able to recover within minutes with only minor injuries. He however was already exhausted and severely dehydrated. He was out before he even hit the ground; plattering against the dune like a wet fish.

"Finn!" Poe cried weakly, desperately crawling over as his mind grew faint and the world around him suddenly seemed so bright. He clung onto the Trooper, trying desperately to turn him over, but he couldn't manage it. He felt suddenly numb, his face burning and his breath becoming hard. He flopped onto the ground next to the man who had dragged him so far, the sky seeming as bright as the sun itself. Then a shadow came overhead.

A voice spoke, distant like an echo. Feebly, Poe reached out for it:

"Please… help."

And then the darkness claimed him.