A little set-up: Finn and Rey went off to train with Luke on Ahch-To, and just returned to the Resistance base. Things are...not right.
The next part will focus on the details laid out in the prompt.
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Finn can tell immediately that something is off—that something is horribly wrong—the moment he and Rey tumble down the Millennium Falcon’s landing ramp, Chewbacca bringing up the rear. The Wookiee is huffing grumpily about one thing or the other, prodding Finn gently in the back with the butt end of his bowcaster, when Finn grinds to an abrupt halt and ends up sprawled on the hard ground on his hands and knees because Chewie can’t stop himself in time.
“Finn? Are you okay?” Rey crouches down beside him and offers him her hand, a wry smile playing with the corners of her lips.
Finn sits back on his heels and examines his scraped palms. “I…I don’t think so,” he says, lifting his chin. “Where is everybody?”
They’d been expecting a raucous ‘welcome home’ celebration, or at least Finn had. There’s no one there to greet them, save the protocol droid, Threepio, and BB-8. Not even Poe is there.
The place is a literal ghost town.
For a few long minutes, Finn fights off a sickening roil in his stomach. Surely, they’d have been informed if the base was attacked. Right?
“I can sense it too,” Rey says softly, wrapping her hand around Finn’s and tugging him to his feet. She brushes off the dusty front of his jacket. “Maybe Threepio and BB know what’s going on. Perhaps they’re all in a meeting.”
Finn doesn’t think that’s it, but he nods along because he won’t let himself consider the alternatives.
The three of them approach the waiting droids.
“Master Finn, Mistress Rey, how good it is to see you again,” Threepio begins, but Rey holds up a hand to cut him short.
“Where is everyone?” she asks.
Threepio actually bends his body stiffly at the waist, as if to address BB-8. The little astromech tilts its dome up, and the two of them converse conspiratorially in a series of short blats and beeps.
“Wait, that’s not fair. What are you two—”
“Something’s happened,” Rey says, grabbing onto Finn’s hand. “While we were gone.”
“I’d forgotten you speak Binary, Mistress Rey,” Threepio says, and has the audacity to sound offended.
“Just tell us what happened. Not knowing is worse than whatever it is you two are keeping from us,” Rey says.
“While you and Master Finn were off training with Jedi Master Luke,” Threepio begins, waving his ugly red arm in the air for emphasis, “something quite terrible happened.”
“Get on with it,” Rey demands.
“Commander Dameron, you see, was—”
“Poe! Poe? Is he all right? Where is he?” Finn flushes with heat like he’s just been slapped in the face, and he reaches out for the droid, but Rey grabs him by the shoulder and tugs him back.
“Commander Dameron is… Oh Maker, I’ve been trained to speak over three billion languages—including dead ones!—but I wasn’t trained for anything like this,” Threepio laments, flailing his arms. “Commander Dameron was hurt on base. This happened several weeks ago. He’s still in the medbay, recovering.”
“He’s hurt? And no one thought to tell us?” Finn yells.
Chewie growls threateningly at Threepio; Finn hasn’t quite got the hang of Wookieespeak down, but it’s probably something like ‘Just tell us what the kriff is going on.’
“General Organa did not wish to…burden you with the awful, awful news,” Threepio says, managing to somehow sound mournful. “Both she and Jedi Master Luke agreed to tell you when you returned to base.”
The sickening pit of dread that opens up in Finn’s stomach is a cool sweep, like the oceans on Ahch-To. The tides threaten to drag him under, but he just squeezes on Rey’s hand and anchors himself to her. He can feel her soft, warm presence curling around him.
“Can we see him?” Rey asks.
“I’m afraid he hasn’t been taking any visitors,” the droid says. “No one but General Organa has been allowed to see him since, since… Ah, well, since the incident occurred. Not even little BB-8!”
“He’ll see us,” Finn insists, tightening his grip on Rey’s hand to keep from lashing out at Threepio and throttling him until his stupid, shiny golden head pops off.
Killing the messenger would probably be frowned upon, and it’s not Threepio’s fault he had to be the bearer of bad news. Finn’s really got to get ahold of himself now, and pull himself back together. If not for his sake, then for Rey’s and Poe’s.
Threepio frets. “I don’t think—”
“Take us to see him,” Rey says calmly, so calmly Finn wonders if she’s trying to use mind control on the droid.
Threepio makes a chuffing noise that sounds a lot like a sigh. “Well, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
The three of them follow Threepio and BB-8 to the medbay.
[FILL] Poe is raped on the resistance base (Finn+Rey, Finn+Poe) 1/?
The next part will focus on the details laid out in the prompt.
---
Finn can tell immediately that something is off—that something is horribly wrong—the moment he and Rey tumble down the Millennium Falcon’s landing ramp, Chewbacca bringing up the rear. The Wookiee is huffing grumpily about one thing or the other, prodding Finn gently in the back with the butt end of his bowcaster, when Finn grinds to an abrupt halt and ends up sprawled on the hard ground on his hands and knees because Chewie can’t stop himself in time.
“Finn? Are you okay?” Rey crouches down beside him and offers him her hand, a wry smile playing with the corners of her lips.
Finn sits back on his heels and examines his scraped palms. “I…I don’t think so,” he says, lifting his chin. “Where is everybody?”
They’d been expecting a raucous ‘welcome home’ celebration, or at least Finn had. There’s no one there to greet them, save the protocol droid, Threepio, and BB-8. Not even Poe is there.
The place is a literal ghost town.
For a few long minutes, Finn fights off a sickening roil in his stomach. Surely, they’d have been informed if the base was attacked. Right?
“I can sense it too,” Rey says softly, wrapping her hand around Finn’s and tugging him to his feet. She brushes off the dusty front of his jacket. “Maybe Threepio and BB know what’s going on. Perhaps they’re all in a meeting.”
Finn doesn’t think that’s it, but he nods along because he won’t let himself consider the alternatives.
The three of them approach the waiting droids.
“Master Finn, Mistress Rey, how good it is to see you again,” Threepio begins, but Rey holds up a hand to cut him short.
“Where is everyone?” she asks.
Threepio actually bends his body stiffly at the waist, as if to address BB-8. The little astromech tilts its dome up, and the two of them converse conspiratorially in a series of short blats and beeps.
“Wait, that’s not fair. What are you two—”
“Something’s happened,” Rey says, grabbing onto Finn’s hand. “While we were gone.”
“I’d forgotten you speak Binary, Mistress Rey,” Threepio says, and has the audacity to sound offended.
“Just tell us what happened. Not knowing is worse than whatever it is you two are keeping from us,” Rey says.
“While you and Master Finn were off training with Jedi Master Luke,” Threepio begins, waving his ugly red arm in the air for emphasis, “something quite terrible happened.”
“Get on with it,” Rey demands.
“Commander Dameron, you see, was—”
“Poe! Poe? Is he all right? Where is he?” Finn flushes with heat like he’s just been slapped in the face, and he reaches out for the droid, but Rey grabs him by the shoulder and tugs him back.
“Commander Dameron is… Oh Maker, I’ve been trained to speak over three billion languages—including dead ones!—but I wasn’t trained for anything like this,” Threepio laments, flailing his arms. “Commander Dameron was hurt on base. This happened several weeks ago. He’s still in the medbay, recovering.”
“He’s hurt? And no one thought to tell us?” Finn yells.
Chewie growls threateningly at Threepio; Finn hasn’t quite got the hang of Wookieespeak down, but it’s probably something like ‘Just tell us what the kriff is going on.’
“General Organa did not wish to…burden you with the awful, awful news,” Threepio says, managing to somehow sound mournful. “Both she and Jedi Master Luke agreed to tell you when you returned to base.”
The sickening pit of dread that opens up in Finn’s stomach is a cool sweep, like the oceans on Ahch-To. The tides threaten to drag him under, but he just squeezes on Rey’s hand and anchors himself to her. He can feel her soft, warm presence curling around him.
“Can we see him?” Rey asks.
“I’m afraid he hasn’t been taking any visitors,” the droid says. “No one but General Organa has been allowed to see him since, since… Ah, well, since the incident occurred. Not even little BB-8!”
“He’ll see us,” Finn insists, tightening his grip on Rey’s hand to keep from lashing out at Threepio and throttling him until his stupid, shiny golden head pops off.
Killing the messenger would probably be frowned upon, and it’s not Threepio’s fault he had to be the bearer of bad news. Finn’s really got to get ahold of himself now, and pull himself back together. If not for his sake, then for Rey’s and Poe’s.
Threepio frets. “I don’t think—”
“Take us to see him,” Rey says calmly, so calmly Finn wonders if she’s trying to use mind control on the droid.
Threepio makes a chuffing noise that sounds a lot like a sigh. “Well, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
The three of them follow Threepio and BB-8 to the medbay.