He woke to rough hands yanking him out of his bunk. “You’re going to be vented this time, FN-2187,” Phasma told him, and he could hear the glee in her voice even under the modulation. “I only hope they allow me to do it personally.” Phasma barked at two of the troopers standing at attention to help her, and they did, securing his wrists and ankles with manacles. They did this quickly and almost impersonally, but Finn knew that the cuffs had been tightened enough to cut off his circulation on purpose. Once he was bound, Phasma shoved him ahead of her, shoved so hard that he lost his balance and nearly went to his knees. Behind him, he heard the sound of a blaster being unholstered. “You better keep your feet, FN-2187,” Phasma warned. She jabbed him in the back with the muzzle of her blaster, and they began to move forward.
“Finn.”
He was jerked to a halt. “Did you say something, FN-2187?” The voice was low, deadly.
Finn squared his shoulders. “I said my name is Finn,” he replied, just as low. He turned a bit, just enough to look Phasma full in her faceplate. “There is no FN-2187 here. He no longer exists.”
“That will be true soon enough,” Phasma replied, and then hit him. This time Finn did fall to his knees, and she kicked him, sending him sprawling.
Finn’s mouth was full of blood; she had put everything she had into that punch. He spat some onto the ground and rose onto his elbows; Phasma kicked him again, and despite himself, Finn started laughing. He was going to die. There was no way to save himself from this. He was going to die, so what was the point of being scared? Why cower, when no matter what he said or did his life was finished? “Lot of anger there, Phasma,” he told her through his laughter. “If you’re not careful, that might earn you a reconditioning.”
Instead of riling her up further, the words seemed to calm Phasma. She motioned briskly to the two troopers who had shackled him, and they got him under his arms and pulled him up. They half dragged, half carried him out of the room, until he finally got his feet under him and started shuffling on his own.
They were nearly there when it dawned on him where they were headed. “Kylo Ren?” he asked in a small voice, the fear that had evaded him in the barracks suddenly hitting him hard enough to make his knees weak. He stumbled, but the troopers on either side of him kept him moving forward. “You’re taking me to Kylo Ren?”
Phasma didn’t answer him; she merely announced into her coms that they had arrived. The door slid open. “Bring him,” said a soft, smooth voice from within, and he was forced inside.
In the center of the small space was a chair much like the one he’d been released from after his reconditioning. Finn was placed into this chair and held down until the restraints had been closed over his arms and legs. There was a single light shining down upon his head, and the rest of the room was cast in shadow.
“Leave us,” the voice intoned from the shadows, and the others hastily withdrew. Even Phasma was eager to leave. She seemed to have forgotten her wish to be there when Finn was dealt with. Once the door had closed behind them, a group of shadows in the corner moved, and Kylo Ren stepped out of them. Finn had seen him before, of course; they all had, at one point or another – and he had found him just as unnerving then. He thought briefly of the rumors that Kylo Ren could read minds, and shuddered.
“I am impressed,” Kylo Ren murmured from behind the mask, his voice both terrifying and strangely soothing. “You’ve overcome reconditioning not once, but twice – a feat that I doubt many others could accomplish.” His head tilted to the side, “Not that we have had any basis for comparison, you understand.”
Finn knew what he meant – troopers were reconditioned once, and if they failed a second time, they were decommissioned.
“But then, you are something of a special case. No other stormtrooper has managed to break through a lifetime of training so thoroughly. Perhaps we should have guessed that the reconditioning would not work on you.” He shrugged lightly. “No matter. I will not fail.”
Finn shook his head. “I don’t understand,” he said, voice shaking. “I thought I was going to be vented.”
“Oh, no,” and now amusement colored Kylo Ren’s voice. “I have no intention of getting rid of you. I have plans for you, FN-2187.” He raised his hand, and pain exploded in Finn’s head.
“My name is Finn,” he slurred, struggling to get the words out. It felt like his skull was being cut open. Memories that both were and weren’t his flashed through his mind in rapid succession: blaster fire in a desert. A hand on his helmet, smeared with blood. A beautiful girl’s furious face. Some large, hairy animal. The glow of a light saber. The same beautiful girl, laughing as she levitated fruit around his head. A small orange and white droid barreling into his legs, beeping rapid fire. A man whose face was famed by wild brown hair, smiling at him like he was the center of the galaxy. A brown jacket hanging over the back of a chair. The memories began to dissolve as soon as they appeared. Finn felt them slipping from his mind like water, and he fought it. The pain increased. It felt like his head was being ripped in two.
Someone was screaming; Finn recognized the voice as his own and understood that he could stop it no more than he could stop Kylo Ren rooting through his head, taking what he pleased with no mercy, or even the slightest regard for the pain that he was causing.
No, oh no, he thought desperately, even as he continued to scream. No, I’m Finn, my name is Finn. My name is Finn and Poe Dameron is important. My name is Finn and Poe Dameron is important…My name is Finn…Poe D-D…my name is Finn…Finn…
Re: Fill: Poe/Finn- Poe is Finn's anchor 2b/3
“Finn.”
He was jerked to a halt. “Did you say something, FN-2187?” The voice was low, deadly.
Finn squared his shoulders. “I said my name is Finn,” he replied, just as low. He turned a bit, just enough to look Phasma full in her faceplate. “There is no FN-2187 here. He no longer exists.”
“That will be true soon enough,” Phasma replied, and then hit him. This time Finn did fall to his knees, and she kicked him, sending him sprawling.
Finn’s mouth was full of blood; she had put everything she had into that punch. He spat some onto the ground and rose onto his elbows; Phasma kicked him again, and despite himself, Finn started laughing. He was going to die. There was no way to save himself from this. He was going to die, so what was the point of being scared? Why cower, when no matter what he said or did his life was finished? “Lot of anger there, Phasma,” he told her through his laughter. “If you’re not careful, that might earn you a reconditioning.”
Instead of riling her up further, the words seemed to calm Phasma. She motioned briskly to the two troopers who had shackled him, and they got him under his arms and pulled him up. They half dragged, half carried him out of the room, until he finally got his feet under him and started shuffling on his own.
They were nearly there when it dawned on him where they were headed. “Kylo Ren?” he asked in a small voice, the fear that had evaded him in the barracks suddenly hitting him hard enough to make his knees weak. He stumbled, but the troopers on either side of him kept him moving forward. “You’re taking me to Kylo Ren?”
Phasma didn’t answer him; she merely announced into her coms that they had arrived. The door slid open. “Bring him,” said a soft, smooth voice from within, and he was forced inside.
In the center of the small space was a chair much like the one he’d been released from after his reconditioning. Finn was placed into this chair and held down until the restraints had been closed over his arms and legs. There was a single light shining down upon his head, and the rest of the room was cast in shadow.
“Leave us,” the voice intoned from the shadows, and the others hastily withdrew. Even Phasma was eager to leave. She seemed to have forgotten her wish to be there when Finn was dealt with. Once the door had closed behind them, a group of shadows in the corner moved, and Kylo Ren stepped out of them. Finn had seen him before, of course; they all had, at one point or another – and he had found him just as unnerving then. He thought briefly of the rumors that Kylo Ren could read minds, and shuddered.
“I am impressed,” Kylo Ren murmured from behind the mask, his voice both terrifying and strangely soothing. “You’ve overcome reconditioning not once, but twice – a feat that I doubt many others could accomplish.” His head tilted to the side, “Not that we have had any basis for comparison, you understand.”
Finn knew what he meant – troopers were reconditioned once, and if they failed a second time, they were decommissioned.
“But then, you are something of a special case. No other stormtrooper has managed to break through a lifetime of training so thoroughly. Perhaps we should have guessed that the reconditioning would not work on you.” He shrugged lightly. “No matter. I will not fail.”
Finn shook his head. “I don’t understand,” he said, voice shaking. “I thought I was going to be vented.”
“Oh, no,” and now amusement colored Kylo Ren’s voice. “I have no intention of getting rid of you. I have plans for you, FN-2187.” He raised his hand, and pain exploded in Finn’s head.
“My name is Finn,” he slurred, struggling to get the words out. It felt like his skull was being cut open. Memories that both were and weren’t his flashed through his mind in rapid succession: blaster fire in a desert. A hand on his helmet, smeared with blood. A beautiful girl’s furious face. Some large, hairy animal. The glow of a light saber. The same beautiful girl, laughing as she levitated fruit around his head. A small orange and white droid barreling into his legs, beeping rapid fire. A man whose face was famed by wild brown hair, smiling at him like he was the center of the galaxy. A brown jacket hanging over the back of a chair. The memories began to dissolve as soon as they appeared. Finn felt them slipping from his mind like water, and he fought it. The pain increased. It felt like his head was being ripped in two.
Someone was screaming; Finn recognized the voice as his own and understood that he could stop it no more than he could stop Kylo Ren rooting through his head, taking what he pleased with no mercy, or even the slightest regard for the pain that he was causing.
No, oh no, he thought desperately, even as he continued to scream. No, I’m Finn, my name is Finn. My name is Finn and Poe Dameron is important. My name is Finn and Poe Dameron is important…My name is Finn…Poe D-D…my name is Finn…Finn…