producism

Finn does a lot of reading, when he wakes up. He burns through article after article of history, of linguistics, of culture. He may be strapped down to a bed and fresh from a bacta tank, but he wants to learn more about what it means to be human, and more about what it means to be this human. About the choices he’s made. 

In the first 48 hours, Finn comes to learn two particularly important things.

One: that surnames mean where you come from, mean legacy.

Two: that there was a man called Bodhi Rook, and that he was very, very brave.

Later, after he’s finally discharged from med bay, he has to fill out paperwork. Registration, medical history, next-of-kin sort of stuff. Most of it he has to leave blank. He hovers over one little box in particular. Family name. He hesitates. Poe has already offered him his. The admin assistant leans over the desk, nonplussed expression on their face, and suggests he just pick one at random. Neither feels quite right. Neither feels like a history, or like a legacy.

He takes a breath, puts pen to paper, and writes Finn Rook in a wobbly but determined script.