Chapter 2 - Return to the Finalizer

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Once the mission had concluded, each shuttle flew up in the direction of the Finalizer, the star destroyer the shuttles originated from. As they made their way to Hanger A, as it was aptly named, one by one the shuttles landed, and said shuttles' doors opened soon after. Eight-Seven's shuttle would open moments later. The stormtroopers exited the vehicle, all except Eight-Seven, who took off his helmet, panting with sweat on his forehead.

FN-2187 was a dark-skinned man with dark brown eyes, sporting a buzz cut as well. As Eight-Seven thought to himself, he wondered if that description meant anything to his fellow soldiers or to his commanding officers. Ever since the FN Corps returned to the star ship, Eight-Seven couldn't get his mind off how Nines reacted to Slip's death; if he encountered him, he'd confront him about his procedure.

"FN-2187." Called Captain Ehsan from behind him.

This made Eight-Seven jump from shock.

"Yes, Captain?" He responded, turning to face her.

"Submit your blaster for inspection." Ehsan said immediately after.

"Yes, Captain."

". . .And who gave you permission to remove that helmet?"

"No one, ma'am. I'm sorry Captain—"

"Report to my division at once." She ordered before exiting the shuttle.

Eight-Seven looked at the ground, then obeyed, donning his helmet once more.

The stormtrooper exited the shuttle and looked around the hangar. TIE fighters were stacked atop one another diagonally. Officers, dressed in dark brown tunics with black boots and gloves, and other soldiers, known simply as the First Order Basic Infantry, walked to and fro around the hangar. These stormtroopers wore white betaplast armor with black trousers. Shoulder and knee pads protected their joints, and large angular visors. Over their heart was the First Order's distinctive sigil; a sixteen-rayed symbol inside a hexagon. Their helmets, identical to that of Imperial stormtroopers, were missing the bottom part of the helmet. In its place, these infantrymen wore gray cloths covering their face and neck. Along with that, they sported utility belts, carrying thermal detonators, stim packs, and small breathing apparatuses.

As Eight-Seven walked in the direction of Ehsan's division, down the halls of the base, several FN soldiers shot glances at him; Eight-Seven felt like they stared at him with suspicion as he walked down the octagon-shaped halls. One stormtrooper approached Eight-Seven quickly, making him stop.

"What were you doing down there, Eight-Seven?!" Nines demanded, shoving Eight-Seven to the wall with his forearm.

"I—" Eight-Seven stammered.

"Well?!" He continued. "You didn't fire on Jakku! What happened down there?!"

For a moment, Eight-Seven was at a lost for words, then he remembered his fallen comrade.

"I've got an even better question!" Eight-Seven responded, shoving Nines off him. "Why did you leave Slip to die?! You just looked at him and left!" He shouted, now pointing at Nines.

"I'll let you in on something, rookie. There was a reason he was considered the weakest link among our ranks, you saw first hand why that was so." Nines started. "We can't afford anyone in the FN Corps being that dim-witted compromise our missions. Let Slip's death be a reminder that if you drag your feet around here, you'll end up just like him." Nines explained coldly.

While Eight-Seven completely understood the stringent nature of the Corps, the unspoken rule of leaving a lagging soldier behind disturbed the stormtrooper greatly. All his time training, protecting civilians, and getting to know his fellow soldiers led to an operation that completely warped his outlook on the First Order in just a few hours. Eight-Seven remained silent as he experienced an internal conflict.

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