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 SIX: SO WHAT NOW?
One groans. "Someone make it stop," he pleads desperately, a hand to his head like he was trying to soothe a physical ache. "I don't care how, just somebody make it stop making noise."
Doublo glances over from the cockpit doorway, where she's been staring out the window at the swirling light of hyperspace, which looks oddly the same in freedom as it did in the First Order. It feels like it should look different, says the swell of everything at once in her chest, but it... doesn't. She wouldn't say as much but... she's slightly disappointed, and glad for a distraction from these thoughts.
The fallen data droid that BeeKay risked so much to rescue has apparently given up on beeping sullenly now that they're in hyperspace, and is now shrieking at its top volume setting like it's being shot at again.
Luckily, Two and Three appear before anyone loses it entirely – GeeVee had been jabbing at buttons with far more force than necessary – and heave the screaming machine back onto its tiny feet to see if that'll make it stop. Once it's standing again, the droid does stop the noise and Doublo is pretty sure that everyone lets out a sigh of relief. Sixteen removes pulls his head out from between his knees and One slumps into his seat, and Doublo is pretty sure that she hears Postcard mumble something that's either a prayer or a curse or both.
Three pulls off his helmet and tucks it under his arm, then smiles and pats the droid's top. "Aw, that's all that was wrong, huh?" he says gently to it, "You just wanted to be set back on your feet again, didn't you? That's-"
In response, the droid screams at him at its top volume setting. Doublo doesn't understand a single bleep of binary, but if that wasn't the droid equivalent of a screamed string of extremely violent curses to one's person and explicit threats about ripping limbs off, then she's not sure what would be. Understandably, Three jumps back, eyes wide, while Two stumbles back and reaches for his blaster like his brother just tried to pet a rathtar instead of a walking, waist-tall block.
Then, point made, the data droid bleeps triumphantly and waddles backward, then performs a large turn, and waddles forward into a corner. With its back to all of them – at least, Doublo is pretty sure that that's the droid's back – it retracts its feet, lowering its bulk to the floor, and stays there with a single, sullen bloop.
"...What the hell was that?" Three demands after a few seconds, retreating from where he'd been attempting to become a part of the walls while in fear for his life. "What's wrong with that thing?"
Two removes his hand from his blaster and yanks off his own helmet, staring at the data droid with apprehension before giving his brother a helpless shrug. He turns towards the other room. "Hey, BeeKay?" he asks, moving to the doorway where Eighteen is attempting to patch up their commanding officer. "What's with this droid?"
The question finally stops the grumbled bickering between Eighteen and BeeKay, and draws Doublo fully away from the hyperspace window, because that's a story she's been wanting to hear too. Sixteen and One both perk up, and Gigi turns away from cleaning his blaster. Even Postcard and GeeVee are finally pulled away from the controls in their curiosity, pulling off their helmets and following Doublo to BeeKay's doorway as Doublo elbows Two and Three out of the way.
BeeKay looks at them all like she can't believe she bothered stealing them from the First Order. She glares especially Doublo, who is valiantly and stubbornly ignoring Two-Three's hisses of pain and 'how the hell do you do that through the armor?'s at the very forefront of them all. Eighteen doesn't even look at the crowd in the doorway and keeps working on the blaster wound on BeeKay's shoulder.
After a few seconds of staring, Doublo can't really take it anymore. "Well?" she asks, folding her arms across her chest like she's seen some higher-ups do when they're particularly unimpressed. It's not comfortable in armor, but it feels good to do something with her arms when she demands, "How the hell is that walking alarm supposed to buy us a future?"
From somewhere out of sight, there's a very offended beep, but only Postcard and One turn to look.
BeeKay sighs and motions for them to stop crowding the doorway with her good hand. "That data droid is IN-340," BeeKay introduces. "Just before Sixteen arrived, she was infected with a virus of unknown origin that caused her to develop some... personality."
"Oh, is that what that was?" Three mutters.
"She started hoarding all the data she acquired instead of moving it as necessary," BeeKay continues, expertly ignoring Three, "and hacking into the systems to gather more data. I only found out because..." BeeKay pauses awkwardly, as though she is inwardly, desperately trying to find a far better phrase for whatever she was doing. "...I just happened across her working."
Doublo doesn't think she's ever seen Eighteen look less impressed, and that's saying something.
BeeKay avoids her medic's eyes and continues, "I haven't been able to access what the virus really does, but it seems to make her compulsively collect information and be unable to delete anything. Instead of handing her over for repair, I've been reviewing what she gathers and keeping her from overloading her memory banks."
"Data droids have a lot of memory," Postcard says in disbelief, to which BeeKay only makes a facial shrug before directing Eighteen to something specific in the medical kit.
"But why did you bring it- her?" GeeVee asks.
Turning back to them, BeeKay explains further, "She's how I've kept an eye on everything – we watch out for each other. When I approached her about leaving, Shrieker helped me skive supplies, found me the space to keep them, and was busy requisitioning us a ship when Doublo ruined our plan." BeeKay glares flatly at said Stormtrooper then. "She doesn't like you."
Doublo does her best not to quail under the combined stares of everyone but Eighteen. She managed to hold up – at least mostly – when BeeKay informed them all that Doublo had committed massive treason, so she could stick out now too. Even if the embarrassment over not having an escape plan – and just being prepared to die – had inexplicably gotten much, much stronger.
"Uh... 'Shrieker'?" Doublo manages to squeak out.
BeeKay makes another facial shrug. "IN-340 is a mouthful of a designation."
"It's apt, at least," One volunteers, only barely wincing.
"No shit," Three mutters.
"Alright, so you've brought along a shrieking, hoarding data droid," Sixteen says, sounding somewhat doubtful still. "Supposedly able to buy us a future, at that. If... Shrieker... helped you do so much, how did you have so much trouble getting it out? And what information is it carrying exactly?"
"The trouble came from acquiring the Lybbartean Cruiser," BeeKay says with another sigh. "It was the only suitable ship readily available, but of a clearance level that alerted the base commander and... ambassadors onboard when Shrieker requisitioned it. To buy us time to load the ship, Shrieker had to give herself up as an out-of-control droid working alone."
"So you went to get it- her," GeeVee finishes understandingly, making BeeKay nod.
"And punched the base commander in the face," Doublo realizes, wide-eyed, making BeeKay grin like a maniac and everyone else, even Eighteen, visibly startle.
"You did what?" Postcard demands, positively horrified. Maybe a little gleeful, but mostly horrified.
"Well, I would have shoved him down a chute into a trash compactor too," BeeKay says casually to her stunned subordinates, "but I was busy running for my life from an angry base commander and Lybbartean Cruiser ambassadors with a very slow, very mouthy droid."
Doublo can't even begin to go into what an accomplishment that is, especially considering what those ambassadors are trained to do. For what is probably at least the fiftieth time today, she is very, very grateful that she has BeeKay here to watch over them and knock them into line.
"As for what Shrieker has," BeeKay continues with a wry smile, "well, I'd have to say... stories."
"Stories?" Gigi echoes.
BeeKay nods, opening her mouth to elaborate, but the only sound that comes is a sharp, sudden hiss, and their commanding officer's eyes roll back into her head. BeeKay's head falls back onto the cot and Doublo immediately turns to look at Eighteen, who's lowering a medshot with a vaguely annoyed expression, then begins packing up the medical kit while very obviously ignoring the various glares and stares being directed at her head of ginger fuzz.
"...What the hell, Eighteen?" Three demands finally.
Eighteen glares at him – all of them. "I didn't know she would pass out like that!" she answers chillingly, before backtracking, "Well... I forgot she might react like that." Then her gaze becomes freezing again. "She can't just walk off a direct blaster hit! She's not a Wookie!"
Well, no, but even with all her fears, Doublo is starting to be convinced that BeeKay is invincible.
"Great going, Eighteen," Gigi grumbles.
Eighteen glares and GeeVee knocks Gigi's helmet on her close friend's behalf. "Respect your superiors, you empty-helmet fool," Eighteen snaps. "We have more than enough time to get our answers at a later date." She looks back at BeeKay, her expression going softer. "Our CO deserves some rest."
The gathered Troopers grumble at the lack of answers, Doublo included, but no one argues that BeeKay probably deserves at least two dormancy periods worth of rest, or however many their commanding officer decides she wants. Eighteen starts picking up her and BeeKay's discarded armor, making a shooing noise towards the rest of them, and they obligingly, quietly move away.
Only to jump as a horrible shriek cuts through the ship.
"Postcard!" GeeVee hisses, while Eighteen stares death and BeeKay doesn't so much as twitch.
"I didn't mean to!" Postcard whispers back, staring down at the incensed data droid behind him with horror. "She was right behind me!" he insists over Shrieker's offended beeping that is definitely a string of curses and threats, Doublo is sure.
"Just get out and go pilot the ship, you fool!" Eighteen says coldly.
Postcard winces as GeeVee stomps back to the cockpit and everyone gives him and the data droid a wide berth on their way to return to whatever they'd been doing before – which is mostly a whole lot of absolutely nothing. Two and Three practically glue themselves to the walls and Doublo wants to laugh at them as she steps out to stand next to Postcard, whom she knows doesn't know a bleep of binary either but looks very berated nevertheless.
"Hey, little buddy," he says, crouching down to some very offended beeps at the familiarity. "Sorry for bumping into you. I'm Postcard and it's nice to finally meet you. No hard feelings?"
Doublo covers her mouth at the droid's answer. "I don't think you're going to save your review, Postcard," she tells him, straining with held-in laughter.
"No shit," Postcard mumbles, before patting Shrieker on the head. "We can call this a work in progress," he tells the droid generously, then he quickly stands up and returns to the cockpit before he can catch the brunt of a binary rant to end all binary rants, giving them a farewell salute while walking. It's a very strategic retreat, and leaves an angry droid and giggling Doublo behind him.
Doublo looks down at the ill-tempered data droid, who looks up at her with what feels like shrewd, narrowed eyes even though Shrieker doesn't really have any stand-out eyes on all the buttons on the front of her rectangle. Doublo thinks that BeeKay might have just found the most melodramatic and angry machine in the entire galaxy, which... fits the rest of their bunkroom pretty well, actually.
"Hey," Doublo says sincerely to the droid. "Thanks for saving us."
Shrieker's answer, to no one's surprise, is a rude, indignant screech.
"Someone make it stop," One groans.
With nothing else to do, at least that comes immediately to mind, while the ship is in hyperspace and BeeKay is unconscious, Doublo sits back down in her seat and starts removing her armor. The stuff is practical and useful, no argument there, but it's also somewhat uncomfortable when trying to relax. And, Doublo realizes rather suddenly while she's slowly making a bone-white pile at her feet, she just really, really wants the stuff off.
She wants it off now and she wants it off forever. She's no longer a Stormtrooper and she never, ever wants to be associated with the First Order ever again, even to make use of their armor. Her life doesn't belong to them anymore and she's not going to spend another minute of it wearing the mask that keeps her faceless. Not if she can help it.
There's suddenly a loud thump, another angry droid shriek, and Doublo looks over just in time to see Eighteen pulling herself up off the floor. Two-Three take a prudent step back, One puts his head deeper in between his knees, and Sixteen and Gigi do their best to look like they had absolutely nothing to do with Doublo's helmet getting in the way of Eighteen's feet.
"Doublo, you little fool!" Eighteen snaps, kicking Doublo's helmet so it rolls towards the younger Trooper's feet. "Don't leave your discarded armor about for others to trip over! Or at least keep your mess to a single place!"
Doublo winces and scoops up her helmet, setting it neatly next to her chair. "Sorry. What did you do with BeeKay's armor?" she asks, noticing that Eighteen is missing her helmet and most of the armor on her arms, probably for better movement. "And yours?"
"Organized piles by BeeKay's cot," Eighteen answers, moving towards the cockpit to join her closest friends. "Find somewhere else," she orders before she disappears through the door.
Doublo looks down at the pile of armor helplessly. She doesn't want to just shove this stuff into a cargo hold, but there aren't any more boxes about – BeeKay and Shrieker probably didn't expect to have any spare stuff, or maybe there wasn't time. But the real thing is, Doublo doesn't want to keep her Stormtrooper armor around. If Doublo had her way, she'd burn the awful white stuff to ash, or just launch it out into space and let a star do the work.
Doublo pauses, considering. Two and Three exchange a look between them and sidle over to her, penning her seat in between them and looming over her in exactly the way she dislikes. Luckily for them, she's too busy thinking to elbow them in their awful, tall guts.
"Got a story, Doublo?" Two asks.
Three snorts, then adds,"Or just another empty-helmet idea?"
Doublo scowls up at him at first, then asks in return, "Does this ship have an eject port?"
oOo
Needless to say, the senior Troopers in the cockpit are not impressed.
"You want to do what?" Eighteen demands, flicking up a hand when both Doublo and Postcard open their mouths to repeat what Doublo just said. "Never mind, I heard what you said, don't say it again, fool. But why would you want to launch your armor into hyperspace? Why?"
"To destroy it really thoroughly?" Doublo offers weakly.
Eighteen just stares, and Two-Three shift where they're flanking Doublo.
"...That does sound fairly appealing," GeeVee volunteers after several seconds, and Postcard nods in agreement. "And having Stormtrooper armor will be really suspicious."
"We might need it again," Eighteen argues, which is a disappointingly logical point. They may need their armor again, to sneak past the First Order, even if Doublo wants to smash hers against a wall and shoot the shards into hyperspace.
"Not where we're going," Postcard points out.
"Where are we going?" Two wonders, and Doublo realizes that she hasn't actually asked where they were running to. It seemed to be something on a need-to-know before they escaped, and she trusts all of these people with her life – it never occurred to Doublo to doubt where BeeKay was leading them.
"A known smugglers' outpost, just outside of the First Order's territory, if I've recognized the coordinates correctly," Postcard answers steadily, then he looks at Eighteen again. "We need to clean or ditch this ship and possibly sell some things for credits. BeeKay says the outpost survives because the First Order looks the other way – we don't want the recognition or suspicion that could come if we have Stormtrooper armor. We're either killers or runaways, then."
"Having a Lybbartean Cruiser is going to be bad enough," GeeVee says in agreement.
Eighteen frowns and crosses her arms. "I think we should wait for BeeKay to make the call," she decides.
"Um... guys?" One says from the ship's main area. "BeeKay's, uh, call is for everybody to stop making noise." They all spin around and see One awkwardly standing by the doorway to BeeKay's room, where he looks at them with an apologetic grimace. "She's, um, awake now, by the way."
Doublo elbows Two-Three out of her way without regret to stand in the doorway beside One, with Sixteen and Gigi right behind them, easily peering over their short heads at the groggy commanding officer on the cot. BeeKay doesn't look at all rested, or happy, and is glaring at them through barely-opened eyes. If BeeKay were upright right now, everyone would probably be getting a knock to the helmet by that expression. Especially Doublo.
Doublo doesn't mind, though. She's just happy to see BeeKay conscious again.
BeeKay lifts her good arm and runs her hand over her face. "I can't remember anything past falling onto this cot right now," she grumbles. "Somebody give me a status report and tell me what the hell our problem is with hyperspace." She points a finger at GeeVee, who's shouldered her way to just behind One and Doublo. "GeeVee, good, you."
"Everyone accounted for, even the droid – no injuries besides yours," GeeVee immediately rattles off. "Five hours until we reach our destination. All found trackers were removed prior to departure and we've entered dead mode -" Sometimes Lybbartean Cruisers need to go off the charts. "- just in case. All damage to the ship is purely superficial, from hand-held blasters."
"Good," BeeKay breathes. "Now what's this about hyperspace if there's no ship damage?"
"Doublo wants to eject her armor into hyperspace," GeeVee answers promptly.
Doublo winces, because there wasn't even an attempt there to soften that statement. Then she winces again when BeeKay turns those barely-open eyes on her.
"That'll turn the armor to dust," she says.
Doublo doesn't know what else to do, not when it comes to BeeKay, so she nods. "Are we going to... need our armor later?" she asks, because if anyone knows what's coming in the future, it's BeeKay. It's her plan that getting them out and alive, after all.
"...No," BeeKay answers. "It's best that we get rid of it, actually. Any association with the First Order is something we want to avoid entirely now. If, by some accident, we do need Stormtrooper armor, we'll get our hands on some somehow."
Doublo feels her heart swell in excitement in her chest. "So I can do it?"
BeeKay shrugs with her good shoulder. "Sure. Why not?" she replies. "It'll definitely be effective."
"But ejecting into hyperspace?" Sixteen demands hesitantly from just behind Doublo. "Is that even safe? Isn't that dangerous? Won't that be dangerous for us somehow?"
"Nope!" Three's cheery voice announces from somewhere farther behind. "I've done it before."
Doublo blinks at that and even BeeKay looks surprised, as much as she can without letting up on the general crankiness. BeeKay raises her voice as much as she can and demands, "And why the hell were you launching shit into hyperspace, Three?"
"Uh... fun?"
BeeKay drops her head back onto the cot. "Incredible," she declares.
"Sometimes the longer missions get really, really boring," Two adds defensively from the other room.
"Incredible," BeeKay repeats, shutting her eyes fully.
There's a brief silence, then Three says, "We were really careful about it."
"Sorry, BeeKay," Two adds.
BeeKay opens her eyes. "I don't want to hear any more of this," she says decisively. "Doublo, One, gather my armor. Sixteen, help me up. Gigi, collect everyone. If we've going to take a page out of Two-Three's book and launch our armor into hyperspace like morons, then we're doing it right and blaster wound or not, I'm not going to be left out of the fun."
oOo
Author's Note: This fic is finished and chapters will be posted daily until it's complete. There will be 7 chapters.