The quiet rumbling of a ship’s motor. The frigid temperature. The patented smell of perfectly polished floors. These were the instantly recognizable traits of a First Order establishment.
FN-3043’s eyes snapped open.
Above him lied a grey ceiling inlaid with circular light fixtures.
His head turned to the left.
A medical droid with an impeccably shined humanoid black form and an elongated head was busy typing something on a holopad.
He turned his head further to the left and saw a closed door.
He sat up, groaning as every muscle in his body ached. His cover fell away from his bare torso and he was able to see the many bruises and cuts speckling his fair-skinned chest. The droid turned and regarded him.
“FN-3043, you are finally awake.”
He gazed at the droid wearily.
“Yeah,” he replied groggily, rubbing his eyes.
“I am glad,” the droid continued.
His lips quirked upward in a slight smile.
After rubbing a hand through his tousled blond hair he said, “What day is it?”
“It is three days after the Naboo excursion if that is what you mean.”
His jaw dropped.
“Three days? I’ve been unconscious for three days?!”
“Yes. If the stormtroopers had not discovered you on the overlook you would probably be dead.”
That fact made 3043’s mouth feel a bit dry.
The droid casually walked over to the bare left wall near FN-3043 and tapped something.
A secret compartment slid forward from the wall with black clothes perfectly folded atop it.
“Your clothes,” the droid said.
The blond-haired trooper dipped his head with appreciation. “Thank you.”
As the droid began to leave the room it turned to him.
“I’m sure you would like to hurry. Your friends will be happy to see you.”
With that, the door slid open with a hiss and the droid left.
FN-3043’s eyes widened.
Wait a minute. It couldn’t be. Were FN-2358 and FN-1217 alive?
There was only one way to find out.
He popped up from the bed and began putting on his clothes.