Author's Note: If you're interested, a lovely person made a podfic of "The Story of Finn" to be listened to instead of read if you're into podfics! Unfortunately, I can't link on this site, but if you Google "The Story of Finn" and "annabelle_myrtille (annapod)", you should be able to find it very easily! There's direct links on the version of this fic on AO3.
THE STORY OF FINN
CHAPTER TWO: JUST LIKE ME
Two (JM-2002) and Three (JM-2003) are an odd pair. They're biologically related and it's obvious just looking at them without their helmets. They have the same brown skin and brown eyes and dark hair, with the same taller than average height, heavy eyelids, and hooked noses.
By all First Order logic, they shouldn't be anywhere near the same system, much less be in the same bunkroom on the same base. But they are, and Doublo knows she's not alone in suspecting that their assignments were interfered with, but since they're perfectly capable and natural pilots, no one wants to risk annoying a higher-up by calling them on it. The higher-ups never see Stormtroopers without their helmets, so since it didn't interfere with anyone's ability to do their job, it didn't matter.
BeeKay says the boys could be twins, given their appearances and the way they seem to move in synchronization. Doublo doesn't know why sharing a womb would grant them some sort of mental connection, but whatever it is, they're a highly coordinated messenger protection team and annoyingly good at penning her in between them and marching her places.
Doublo is a little short for a Stormtrooper and hates being reminded of it, so she usually plants her elbows in their stupid tall guts when they loom over her, declare her too slow, and try to drag her over to the Story Circle. She hasn't missed a single session when she's on base since the first one, so she doesn't know what they're trying to pull there.
She's just come back from another data run when Two and Three pull into the hanger behind her. Doublo raises a hand at them in greeting, checks her ship over, and goes to file her report. She's just sent it off to BeeKay, BeeKay's CO, and the base commander when Two and Three appear and pen in her between them, plugging in their own reports.
"Guess who's got an incredible Second-Hand People Story from Starkiller Base?" Two says, practically brimming with excitement in his armor.
Doublo recalls their mission to be delivering schematics for something-or-other to Starkiller Base, working as decoy and protection for GeeVee (GV-1733), a woman with grayish brown skin and a sharp face, and Eighteen (EM-2218), another woman with pale skin and bright eyes. There's a lot of big names there on Starkiller, like Kylo Ren and General Hux and Captain Phasma – so they all should have come back with some pretty interesting stories.
"GeeVee?" she suggests, shrugging her way to freedom while they're busy processing.
Three looks at her in a disdainful way that she can feel through both their helmets, but she ignores him. She doesn't want to hear it, not right now. The bunkroom is the only place on base where she feels comfortable discussing stories, for obvious reasons. Everywhere outside complete solitude with her bunkmates in an enclosed area is a place for collecting stories only, not for telling them.
"GeeVee is Ship Stories only and you know it! But fine," Three says grouchily as she walks away. "Then you can hear about FN-2187 with the rest of them!"
Doublo pauses, then turns.
"What?" she says.
"Too late!" Three shouts back, already marching away with Two far faster than is recommended in the base hallway regulations. "Too late, Doublo!"
"Two! Three! Halt!" she demands, hurrying after them as fast as won't get her reprimanded.
It's hard to hear with the helmet, but she's pretty sure she hears Three cackling and Two giggling as they march away from her. Completely inappropriate behavior for Stormtroopers that could be grounds for reconditioning in a stricter base, Doublo thinks viciously, cursing with what few swear words she knows under her breath.
oOo
FN-2187 lived and his name is Finn.
He survived crashing the TIE Fighter on Jakku, found the BB-8 droid with the Map to Luke Skywalker, stole a ship with an unknown female Jakku scavenger, and his current whereabouts are unknown. Given his rescue of the Resistance pilot prisoner, whose whereabouts are also currently unknown, it is expected that he is attempting to deliver the droid to the Resistance.
FN-2187 lived and he has named himself Finn.
Between his defection and rediscovery, the traitor Stormtrooper gained a name. He took his designation and made it a name, something that Stormtroopers are not meant to have, are never meant to have, and cannot simply gain. Names are for people, and they are tools, not people.
Even through promotion to the highest possible level, a Stormtrooper will never have a name. They are the created tools of the First Order – nameless, faceless, without doubt or defiance. They exist to serve and die, easily replaceable, completely indistinct from each other.
Efficiency numbered, not named.
But FN-2187 lived and though he is not the first Stormtrooper to defect, nor will he be the last, he is the first to have his story whispered from helmet to helmet, from base to base, from system to system. He is the first to defect to the Resistance, that they know of, and the first to have a name.
His name is Finn.
And his story – a People Story – is ongoing.
oOo
It is not just the storyteller messengers of BeeKay's bunkroom that are telling stories now, not any longer. Which is not unusual, as they are not the only ones to tell stories and have to get their tales from somewhere, but never has it been so completely widespread before. And never so... loud.
The First Order is paying attention to their Stormtroopers now, trying to find the defect in training and education that led to such a disaster. The higher-ups watch what were previously only useful wall decorations with wariness now, as though each and every one of them will be the next to defect.
As though any one of them could be the next FN-2187.
The next Finn.
I could be the next Finn, Doublo thinks as her base commander walks past her more stiffly than he ever has before. He gives her whole squad (Two, Three, Postcard, Eighteen, and GeeVee) a nervous look as BeeKay leads them to run some evasion drills.
I could be the next Finn, Doublo thinks to herself, and never has she been more terrified.
oOo
"Be silent," BeeKay orders them one night, rich voice cold and dark eyes colder. "Outside this bunkroom, all you know is that FN-2187 is a defector. As far as you are concerned, traitor is the only name he has. Details of his defection do not concern you."
BeeKay has told them such things before, to never give any sign that their First Order education is not of the first class that the First Order wants. She is worried for them. Worried that the First Order's new watchfulness and wariness will see one if not all of her subordinates instantly dismissed.
That night, she follows her orders up with stories of Stormtroopers made examples. Not just Defection Stories, but Dismissal Stories too, of Troopers who showed too much interest, too much empathy, or just not enough faceless, nameless perfection. Troopers who were therefore immediately and efficiently dismissed from the First Order for being weak links in their imperial chain.
Some might hear it as BeeKay warning them of what it means to betray the First Order and its education, but what she's really doing is warning them of what will be taken as betrayal by the First Order. Do not do these things where they can see, she tells them, because they will kill you for them.
Do not let them think you a failure.
Like Finn.
Like Slip.
It was Eighteen who brought back that story, a Third-Hand Story heard from a Trooper that she used to share base with, who heard it from Zeroes (FN-2000), who was a cadet alongside FN-2187 and FN-2003, Finn and Slip.
Slip (FN-2003) was a Stormtrooper who, according to his fellow cadets, should not have been a Stormtrooper. With a tendency towards badly timed accidents, he should not have made it through training and would not have if not for Finn, who risked mission success to save his inferior fellow cadet.
Captain Phasma was displeased with that, which is why FN-2187's file is marked with that damning negative: empathetic tendencies towards weak links.
Slip died in the raid on Resistance Sympathizers on Jakku, marking Finn's helmet with three bloody fingers when Finn ignored the ongoing mission to stop for his fatally shot fellow. To see if he could save his fellow Trooper one last time.
Do not be like Slip, be without fault in your manner and flaw in your mission, BeeKay doesn't say aloud as she tells her story, the faint lines on her face creased with worry for her subordinate Troopers. Do not be like Finn, be without empathy to the First Order and Resistance alike. Give them no reason to suspect you of defection. No reason to dismiss you.
"You have never heard the name of Finn," BeeKay reminds them before she turns the lights out. "You are barely aware of the traitorous Stormtrooper designated as FN-2187."
But even though they all nodded, afraid for their empty lives, reasoning to themselves that this is what the First Order wishes of them anyway – just like how they all excuse their storytelling to there being no apparent danger to it, no interference in their duties - Doublo is sure that she is not the only one who falls asleep with the designation of FN-2187 on her lips.
Tracing his name with her tongue.
Finn.
I could be like you.
oOo
Under their helmets, their heads are filling with dangerous thoughts and the First Order knows it, though the higher-ups are far more distracted with Starkiller Base and the Map to Luke Skywalker. Traitorous thoughts are turning up inside Stormtrooper helmets, intrusive ideas that they never would have conceived of before FN-2187 – before Finn.
Doublo looks at the blaster at her waist, with which her accuracy is average and which she doesn't use beyond basic drills to stay in acceptable form. She's a pilot, and a messenger pilot at that, who rarely sees combat, but if she's ever suddenly dropped into combat against a settlement of civilians...
She could not fire.
She could not pull the trigger.
She could choose not to eliminate... not to kill.
Just like Finn, who was just like me.
When inspecting her ship, Doublo has seen Two staring towards the wall of TIE Fighters in the hanger until Three nudges to make him stop, so he doesn't attract attention from the base commander or any of the other officers who've gotten jumpy around Stormtroopers lately. Doublo is willing to bet that he's thinking the same thing she does when she looks at a ship now.
He could take that ship.
He could fly far away from the First Order.
He could choose to leave just by taking a ship and going.
Just like Finn, who was just like him.
Postcard and GeeVee were grabbed from ship maintenance the other day by superior officers escorting a prisoner. Ever since the Resistance's best pilot was freed, escaping suspicion by his single Trooper escort, there's been a minimum number of escorts required for prisoner transfers. So Postcard and GeeVee got dragged into helping, and Doublo saw the look that they exchanged, even if they were wearing their helmets.
They could get rid of the other escorts.
They could free the prisoner, sparing them from torture at the hands of raging madmen like Kylo Ren and apathetic commanders like Captain Phasma.
They could choose to help someone they shouldn't: an enemy.
Just like Finn, who was just like them.
But they don't, and they don't say anything even remotely suspicious, like BeeKay told them to. They keep quiet and well-behaved and listen closely for more stories of FN-2187 – Finn – the traitorous Stormtrooper being hunted down by all the First Order, but who hasn't been caught yet. Who's giving them something akin to hope with every day that he stays free.
Whose story they whisper, even forbidden to speak of it, because they all feel this story.
It's a story that's told because it has to be, they all know it.
Finn, the girl from Jakku, and the BB-8 droid are on the Millennium Falcon now, the legendary ship that once made the Kessel Run in 14 parsecs. With smugglers Han Solo and Chewbacca, the former once a general of the Old Rebellion, personal friend of General Organa of the Resistance and the infamous Jedi Master Luke Skywalker.
It's like a Far-Hand Story, a new one, and Doublo knows that it's real without a doubt. They're real; they're all real, because Finn has found them.
It's true. All of it.
Finn has gone places, is going places, farther than a Trooper could ever go, into stories themselves it seems.
The only thing Stormtroopers own are stories.
Finn can own whatever he wants now.
Finn is almost a story himself now.
And they could do those things too – go down these different paths that they just hadn't seen before.
Make new paths for themselves.
Just like Finn, who was just like me.
oOo
The Republic is destroyed, and it shouldn't mean much to them – it shouldn't mean anything to them – but it does. They knew it was going to happen, but they're still shocked, still surprised, even though they're Stormtroopers who live only as the First Order allows it, at such a wanton waste of life, at the empty space where a system of planets used to be.
They're respectfully silent that day, because it feels like they should be.
Speaking, acting as though nothing has happened, seems like it would be asking BeeKay how she came to be the only BK Trooper left, how she's survived so long and managed to get some wrinkles at the edges of her eyes. Only about a thousand times worse somehow. In so many ways.
They don't tell stories that night.
When they tell the story the next night, of how the Republic died, it's almost as quiet as the silence.
When they tell the Second-Hand accounts of Starkiller Base lit up, burning the sky of its planet and lighting up an entire system with the deaths of what is suspected to be billions, there is no pride in their voices at being a part of the First Order's outstanding victory. None at all.
They were raised to accept the words of the First Order without question, without hesitance, but they know that an entire system could not have been guilty of being Resistance Sympathizers. Even if the Republic was corrupted by the Resistance, Stormtroopers know well the chain of command – the citizens of those planets had about as much say in Republic or Resistance as the Stormtroopers do the First Order.
And the First Order killed them all, every one of them, without warning or mercy.
Doublo has never felt this before, at least not so overwhelmingly, but she thinks it might be called shame.
"Who will make up their New Empire?" GeeVee demands, her voice and hands shaking. "Who will the First Order order in the end? Will there be no one but Stormtroopers?"
"No one but us," Eighteen says, like an echo.
Postcard puts his thick arm around GeeVee, tears still running down his face like they have ever since they started, and tucks his scarred face into the curve of her neck. He visited all of those planets, carrying the First Order's later attempts at diplomacy, and has lamented being watched every second, unable to visit the things he glimpsed. Sweeping green fields and swooping cities that he could never tell full Places Stories of because they belong to the Republic.
Belonged, now. Gone, now.
Who were the Stormtroopers who ran the Starkiller Base? Doublo knows there had to be hundreds if not thousands of First Order soldiers working such a massive weapon. Who were the Stormtroopers who were commanded to fire and pulled that trigger?
Did they stop? Did they stop and consider how many lives they were ending? Did their fingers hover above the control and tremble with the weight of what they were about to do? Or were they expressionless under the helmet that kept them faceless? Quick to obey being ordered by the designation that kept them nameless? How? Why?
Why couldn't they stop?
Why couldn't they choose not to pull the trigger?
Why couldn't they be like Finn?
I would, Doublo thinks fiercely as she doesn't sleep that night, like she didn't the last.
I'd refuse to pull the trigger on people who did nothing, she thinks, watching Three, crying quietly, crawl into Two's bunk and hold his brother while Two sobs uncontrollably, unable to keep himself silent even though such sounds and shaking should see him instantly reported for reconditioning.
They're not the only ones. The whole bunkroom is filled with quiet crying, like they're all young cadets again, newly taken into the First Order and longing for something unknown to them.
I'd choose another way, another path, one without death, one without killing, she thinks, watching GeeVee crawl into Postcard's bunk and hold him tight enough to leave bruises while they both cry. Then Eighteen get up to sit on the end of their bunk, just staying there and putting her head between her knees, shuddering like she can't get warm, has a chill down her spine that won't leave her.
Doublo raises a hand to her face and brushes away some of the salty damp that's soaked her cheeks through. She feels like she's a shell of water now, made of leaks that she can't dam.
I'd save them, she thinks so very traitorously as she watches BeeKay just get up and leave the room entirely. I'd choose no to obedience, yes to freedom, and then run there as fast as I could.
I'd be like Finn, who saved his comrades and refused to kill.
Finn, who's still out there, free and fighting.
Finn, who's just like me.
oOo
Author's Note: This fic is finished and chapters will be posted daily until it's complete. There will be 7 chapters.