Chapter Text
Finn has to be honest: Coruscant makes Yavin look like a dump.
Man-made skyscrapers will never compare to the beauty of nature, but as a leadership headquarters they’ve got the Republic beat. The towers flanking the Falcon are all impressive and stoic in stature, so much so that Finn can’t distinguish which one is the Senate Chambers. You could easily dictate an entire trade system anywhere on this planet, even in the building these people consider a post office.
Rey lifts up Finn’s slacked jaw with two of her fingers. “Awestruck, are we?”
Finn laughs, scratching the back of his neck. “More like terrified.”
She leans her elbows onto the flight console, mirroring Finn almost perfectly. Together, they gaze upon this strange utopia before them. “It’s so...silver.”
“Too silver. There’s no...life.”
Rey hums in agreement. “Better not say that to the president.” She tilts her head in his direction. “Well, this is the life you’re in for now. How does it feel?”
Finn sucks in a deep breath, and releases it slowly. Slow enough for his lungs to sting and his heart to restart. The reality is setting in, and the shock may just kill him.
“Like I’m not qualified for this. That I don’t deserve all this power. No one does, really.”
“I know how you feel,” and Finn knows that Rey does. She’s the only one, other than Poe, who knows what it’s like to have history’s eyes boring into the back of their head. “Our positions are going to be challenged here, but remember what got you here in the first place.”
“You?”
Rey smiles. “That’s sweet, but I was gonna say you . Every choice you’ve made, every sacrifice...it was all for today. For this future. For this chance to harbor peace in our galaxy.”
“But am I worthy?”
“I don’t think so. No one is, just like you said. Maybe we earn our worth by proving ourselves at the top, not the bottom. Or maybe status doesn’t determine worth at all.” She leans off the console, beaming. “But you, Finn, are worthy. Don’t let anyone make you think otherwise.”
Finn smiles uneasily. “I’ll do my best.”
“What about Poe? Is Poe worthy?”
Rey rolls her eyes, and Finn follows her annoyed stare. His jaw drops again. Poe had told him he’d invested in a finer set of clothing that he refers to as ‘Kiss-Ass Attire,’ but he hadn’t expected him to fit the look so well . A popped collar, subtle v-neck, and hemmed trousers, all made out perfectly-tailored and perfectly-crafted cloth, makes for one very flustered Finn.
Again, Rey has to close his jaw for him. “Nah. Poe has a lot of catching up to do. Flying the Falcon properly, for a start.”
Poe chuckles, adjusting his cufflinks. “Well, Rey has to learn to use the hyperdrive more often. Makes it faster to get to places, y’know?” He winks at Finn, far too proud of himself. “How do I look?”
A rush of words spring to Finn’s mind, but all he does is stare.
Rey smacks his arm. “He looks gross, doesn’t he?”
Poe scoffs. “ Rude . You get to wear a bathrobe all day and nobody says anything!”
“No, y-you look good,” Finn musters, saving himself.
Poe tugs on his collar triumphantly. “Why thank you. At least someone here loves me.”
Rey waggles an eyebrow but says nothing, instead turning her attention to her flight controls.
“You’re gonna make me look like a slob,” Finn remarks as Poe takes a seat behind him.
Poe waves him off. “Not a chance. And I may have, uh, bought you a blazer. To match.”
Finn’s insides melt down to jelly. Rey mouths ‘To match’ with an amazed smirk on her face.
“T-Thank you, but you didn’t have to do that.”
“I wanted to,” Poe insists, with such powerful sincerity Finn’s heart gives out yet again. “It’ll make us look good, I think. To be coordinated. Makes it look like we’re more competent than we may actually be.”
“It’ll be the first thing the president says,” Rey muses. “‘Oh, what lovely matching outfits!’”
“You know what-” Poe starts.
Chewbacca emerges from the engine room neatly groomed. He points a paw out the window with a short murmur.
“That’s the senate chambers?” Rey asks. “It’s just a giant bowl!”
Chewbacca growls again in confirmation.
“Looks more like a mushroom,” Finn offers. “Bit of a let down.”
“Let’s hope they don’t think of us as let downs either,” Poe mutters.
The second Finn steps off the Falcon , he immediately wants to get back on.
Flanking their vessel is a dozen or so guards, all dressed in garb that puts Poe’s outfits to shame, sadly. They stand upright, poised and elegant, and watch as the four of them bumble down a red carpet ( a real red carpet ) to greet the president.
President Nallara is dressed extravagantly, and yet more humbly than anyone else in the vicinity. While her clothes may be colorful and lively, her cold, calculating stare sucks away all the warmth of her appearance. Her headtails trail down to her hips, revealing her mature age and abundance of experience in intergalactic politics. Experience Finn and Poe are sorely lacking.
She stands with her hands clasped in front of her, and her nose pointed towards the sky.
Finn gulps.
“It’s gonna be fine,” Rey whispers to them.
A whoosh of air comes out of Poe’s mouth. “Sure, yeah. Keep saying that. Maybe you’ll make it true. Smiles everyone.”
He puts on the fakest smile Finn has ever seen and saunters right up to the president. “It’s an honor to meet you in person, President Nallura,” Poe says, extending his hand.
Finn can tell how proud Poe is that he nailed the pronunciation.
President Nallura eyes Poe’s hand with a look less disdainful and more vexing. She accepts his offer with a looser grip than Poe’s own. “The same can be said in return, General Dameron. And you, General...Finn.”
Finn brushes off the pause. There’s no time to dwell on her passive aggressiveness right now. He replaces Poe’s hand with his own once given the chance. “President Nallura, an honor. Thank you for moving our meeting back a few days.”
“It was no issue,” Nallura says, with a tone that implies it very much was an issue. She draws her hand back. “I hope you are feeling well again.”
“Very much so,” Finn smiles, overcompensating. The look the president gives him in tells him she knows he is too.
Only ten seconds of interaction and she’s already commanded power over them. Nothing better than for generals of the new Republic to act so malleable in the presence of influential leaders.
The president moves on to her next target. “It has been a lifetime since a Jedi has stepped foot on senate grounds.”
Rey steps forward, sheepishly offering her hand. “I’m Rey.”
“I know.” Nallura does not offer her hand. Rey lets her falls back to her side. “Rey Palpatine. That name is not one that is welcome here.”
Finn shoots Poe an immediate, panicked glance. Poe is already looking at him when he does. Great. This is great. This is really, really great.
But thankfully, Rey decides to be the savior of the galaxy yet again. “I agree. That’s why I have rejected that name. I was never a Palpatine, and I will never be one. Just call me Rey.”
President Nallara arcs a brow. “Just Rey?”
“That’s who I am. One name is all I need.”
The president nods, satisfied. “I see. Well Rey, you and your friends are welcome to join me for dinner. We will discuss plans for your many excursions once seated.”
She turns, leading them all into the chambers without another word. Finn falls into step with Rey, letting out a sigh.
“Thank you.”
Rey smirks. “Don’t be afraid to stand up for yourself.”
“I know, but I’m also trying to be courteous.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Or at least acting like I am,” he admits.
Poe matches their pace, coming up on Finn’s other side. “I can’t believe we haven’t fucked it all up yet.”
“Me neither. You’re smiling like a Hutt. Just be yourself.”
“Do you know me? Nall-era isn’t gonna like that- Nallara . Nallara. Nallara.”
Finn bites his lip, suppressing a smile. Heat crawls up his neck, pooling in his cheeks. Composure. He needs to stay composed. He can make a fool of himself later if he wants.
Then everything is silent.
The buzz of afternoon sky traffic ceases. Poe’s frantic murmuring stops. The footsteps of the guards behind then go quiet.
Finn keeps walking, though he wants nothing more than to flee.
I know you.
“ No you don’t.”
The silence shatters.
Finn stumbles, grasping onto Poe’s sleeve to steady himself.
“You alright buddy?” Poe whispers.
The president throws a glance over her shoulder.
Finn keeps a neutral face. “Just tripped. That’s all. Just tripped.”
A cold sweat settles on the back of his neck.
——-
In his hands is a helmet. A stormtrooper helmet. A helmet Finn has sworn never to put on again, and yet he has to.
They’ve made it this far. They’ve snuck onboard Snoke’s ship with Maz’ medallion. They’ve incapacitated two troopers. They’ve stripped the troopers of their armor. Finn now just has to put on said armor.
He can’t do it.
“I can’t do it.”
Poe stops jamming on his forearm pads, fingers caught between plastic and stiff fabric. “What?”
“I-I can’t put it on. Poe, please don’t make me put it on.”
There’s blood streaked across his face, dead villagers at his feet. There’s the glint of Phasma’s helmet and the sharp, sinister, agonizing burn of Kylo Ren’s lightsaber along his spine. There’s a terror that makes his muscles shrivel, his organs sickly, and his eyes misty.
Poe frees himself, his hand falling on Finn’s shoulder. “Buddy, they’ll know it’s you the moment they see your face.”
He doesn’t understand. Finn can’t. He can’t and his hysteria is going to cost them everything. “I’m sorry. There has to be something else. Please.”
Poe bites his lip. He looks at Finn for a long, long time. Or at least it feels as so. Finn knows how much is at stake; not just for the resistance but before Poe himself. He’s devoted everything to it, and here Finn is throwing away all he’s given.
Then, carefully, Poe takes Finn’s helmet out of his trembling hands.
“It’s okay. I’ve got an idea.”
A rush of air comes bursting out of Finn. “Thank you. I’m so sorry.”
Poe gives him a soft smile. “Don’t be. Do me a favor? Take some deep breaths, and I’ll be back with a new outfit for ya.”
With that, he slides the helmet over his head. He has spared Finn and offered him a kindness Finn will never be able to return. Not fully, and certainly not if they die here.
The further they go through with the mission, the more Finn suspects they won’t be making it to the rondevu on Crait.
Poe grabs a blaster and rushes out of the supply closet they’ve commandeered as their little changing station. He shoots Finn a little salute before disappearing, and despite everything it makes Finn feel safe.
Then silence falls.
You’re not alone.
Neither are you.
His breath catches, panic returning. Maz looks up from her blaster, face caught in a scowl.
“Who did you hear?”
Finn steps backwards until he hits the wall, the room closing in on him.
“Rey.”
And Ren. Rey and Kylo Ren. There’s no denying it now. He knows, somehow, they’ve grown closer. They’ve been talking, bargaining, plotting.
And he’s lost her.