#phasma fic

“Y/N.”

“Phasma.”

She ran a hand through her hair, not that hair like hers was ever out of place. No doubt she’d been asleep. She tried to blink away the evidence of that a few times. “What can I -”

“I couldn’t sleep,” you blurted out. “And I was cold.”

Phasma squinted at you and sighed. Her lips began to upturn just slightly at the corners. You wouldn’t have noticed it if you hadn’t memorized that scowl over the last few months.

She poked her head out into the hall, passing her body close to yours. You didn’t move. She stole a quick glance around, and, noticing no one, jerked her head towards her quarters. “Come in.” She allowed a smile to briefly cross her lips.

Anxious, you slipped past her quickly and headed for her bed. You took off your boots and coat before she even made it to her bedroom. The bed was still warm with her body heat where she’d been lying minutes ago.

The blankets were pulled up to your neck before she’d caught up with you. “Any room for me in there?”

Unspeaking, you rolled over to the far side of the bed and felt the mattress depress under Phasma’s weight behind you.

“This is certainly unexpected,” Phasma said in your ear as she curled up around you.

You closed your eyes in an attempt to ground yourself. You couldn’t let youd mind wander to tomorrow or the conversation you just had. “I, uh, just needed some company.”

“Is everything alright?” she asked. She pulled on your shoulder, coaxing you to roll over to face her.

You rolled over willingly, but snuggled into her neck to hide your face. “Yep.” Your voice sounded strained and forced, so you added, “It is now.”

You inhaled deeply. All the scents you took in were standard issue. But they were so undeniably Phasma. Even when you smelled them in your quarters, she always came to mind. As you exhaled, your breath fanned across the exposed area of her collarbone, and you leaned in and place a gentle kiss on the pale skin.

She hummed in content, but the noise was almost inquisitive. She gripped you tightly around your body and brought her other arm across to secure you there. “May I ask you something?”

You nodded against her.

She sighed heavily, lifting the parts of your body that were resting against her chest. You could hear her heartbeat quicken beneath the ear that was pressed against her skin. You hadn’t ever known Phasma to be flustered. Even during the more intimate encounters you’d had with her, you’d never seen so much as a dusting of blush on her cheeks.

“Are you-.” She stopped, swallowing. “Are you leaving me?”

Kriff.

You tensed up immediately and tried to sit up, but her grip around you only tightened.

Kriff. She’s going to kill me. She’s going to kill me and no one will know.

You opened your mouth but couldn’t articulate anything, neither the truth nor a lie.

“Please be honest with me.”

Phasma’s voice was even more pained now. She knew. She had to know. Even worse than her knowing would be her thinking that any of this wasn’t real, when everything you had felt for her had been anything but forced.

“Yes,” you managed to say.

“They’re calling you back, aren’t they?”

You pulled away quickly this time, before she could contain you. You moved away from her on the bed, but your back was up against the wall.

“Y/N, please.”

She sat up to reach out towards you, but you shuffled across the foot of the bed and hopped off before she could reach you.

You scooped up your boots and left your jacket, tripping over yourself to get to the door. You had to get out. Get back to your room. Get the comlink. Move up the extraction. You had to get out. You had to get out now.

The noises around you were muffled, far away. You think you heard your name, sharp and clipped and pleading. Your socked footsteps sounded so slow. The door seemed to far away.

A flash of white smeared your vision, and by the time you reached the door, Phasma was standing in front of it.

You dropped your boots and began to push against Phasma, landing soft punches on her muscular body. Within seconds, Phasma’s chilly, bony hands were clasped against your wrists, holding them in front of you.

“Y/N!”

You pulled against her hands, but you were no match for her. You barely moved in her grasp.

“Listen to me,” she commanded. Her bright eyes were pained, staring deeply into yours, as if she was trying to communicate in other ways. “You’re not in danger.”

There was a strangely calming effect to looking at Phasma. She was so brilliant. When in uniform, her armor shone brightly, commanding attention and admiration. Underneath, her skin and hair were bright as stars, her eyes like ice. It was half the reason you’d fallen - stupidly fallen - for her, for a First Order captain.

You clenched your jaw but relaxed your arms. Phasma didn’t let go. “You knew. That I’m…” You couldn’t finish. You couldn’t admit it. Part of you hoped she didn’t know, and you didn’t want to give it away yourself.

“That you’re a spy.” She nodded. “I’ve known. For a while.”

Your eyes fell to the ground. You couldn’t face her anymore. “Why?” you asked. You didn’t need to elaborate. She knew what you meant. Why am I still here? Why didn’t you turn me in? Why am I still alive?

She let go of your wrists, but you didn’t move away. Her hands felt like ice against your face as she cupped it in her grip. “All I wanted was for you to be happy.”

You raised your eyes to meet her cautiously. Warmth pricked beneath your eyelids. You knew if you blinked you’d release the tears that had built up there.

“You were happy with me, right?”

You nodded weakly, but found your words this time. “Am. I am happy with you.”

Phasma stared at you for a beat before slowly moving in to meet your lips with hers.  Her tongue made its way past your lips, exploring and teasing like it had so many other times. But it all felt different now. When she pulled away, her teeth dragged across your bottom lip ravenously.

She rested her forehead against yours. “Let’s get some sleep, alright?”

Phasma guided you back to her bed, her hand on your lower back. You slid in and she climbed in behind you, and you curled up as you had been minutes ago, as if nothing had happened.

“How did you know?”

Phasma let out a short, clipped laugh, as if suddenly recalling a fond memory. “I saw you one morning, while I was heading to the hangar bay. I knew I had never seen you before; I would have remembered.” She paused, tugging you closer to her. “And I wanted to know who you were. So, I began to ask around.”

You winced. You hated how embarrassingly obvious the whole situation was. “Alright. I get it.”

“Oh, no,” Phasma laughed. “You have to suffer through the entire thing, just like I did.”

You rolled your eyes, knowing she couldn’t see you. “Fine.”

“I asked around. And no one seemed to be able to give me an answer. I began to search the databases for your file. I found one picture and a rank explanation. No background, no medical files. Even Hux couldn’t explain the insufficient information.”

You chuckled. “Hux.”

“See? You know by now. Fools, the lot of them.”

She paused, no doubt reminiscing.

“By the time I had figured it out for myself, a few days had already passed, and -”

“The training room showers,” you interrupted, recalling where you’d first laid eyes on Phasma.

“The training room showers,” she repeated in agreement. “You posed no threat to me, and I figured you’d be gone soon enough. That someone else would find you out. I clearly underestimated the capabilities of my superiors.”

“And here we are,” you whispered.

“Yes.” Her voice was seriously suddenly, jolting you back to reality. “When do you leave?”

“Tomorrow.” There was no use lying. Whether you told her or not, you’d be gone either way.

“I’ll miss you,” Phasma said. The softness of her words struck you.

You closed your eyes, and a warm tear slipped down your cheek and absorbed into her shirt. “I’ll miss you too.”

Phasma breathed a heavy, shaky breath and pulled you closer. Her breathing evened out shortly, syncing with yours, and within minutes, the two of you drifted off to sleep.

When you woke up the next morning, Phasma’s side of the bed was empty and cold. You didn’t linger.

You found your boots and coat neatly stacked by the door. There was something draped over your boots. The fabric was black and heavy, a thick red stripe alone one edge. A note was attached.

Paige Tico was not dead, she wasn’t anywhere near dead. In fact, her life seemed to be posing some sort of conundrum for the First Order. Paige herself might have tried to solve the puzzle of her unexpected life, if she had time for such quandaries. But she didn’t have time for luxuries; she had to find a way to escape before the First Order could break her and she revealed the secret that could bring down the resistance. She must keep it at all costs.

The door to her tiny cell opened and she braced herself for the onslaught, closing her eyes and trying to escape to her memories – this time she chose a family vacation on the beaches of Abordia with her little sister Rose. She braced her body, but…nothing. Peeking through one eye, a shiny chrome helmet filled her vision.

“I hear you have given us quite the trouble.” The voice reverberated out through the helmet, it sounded almost melodic – if a bit sinister.

Goosebumps prickled across her arms as she watched her own eyes widen in the reflection of the shiny helmet.

“Do you know who I am?”

Paige tried to shake her head, but it was strapped to the table so she barely twitched.

The silver storm trooper seemed to understand because she replied. “I am Captain Phasma, an officer of the First Order.”

“So I am working my way up the ranks, am I?” Paige retorted sarcastically and tried to lift her chin for a punch that didn’t come.

“Today is your lucky day.” Phasma shifted to the control panel near Paige’s feet.

“I sure do feel lucky.” Paige snorted, but Phasma gave her a look that even through the helmet made her question Phasma’s intent.

Her shiny chrome fist hit some button and the restraints surrounding Paige’s body released. Paige didn’t feel relieved, she felt oddly exposed.

“What’s your game here?” Paige didn’t move from her position lest she be a prey inciting the predator.

“No game,” Phasma said with an acidic sweetness. “We are letting you go. Well, actually I am letting you go. Protocol dictates we terminate murderers and your actions alone led to the deaths of thousands. Did that even occur to you – that you were killing people – when you pressed that button? Or are you capable of dehumanizing the people behind the masks?”

“That ship would have killed us all.”

“No.” Captain Phasma punched another button and Paige felt the table beneath her bend, moving her slowly into a seated position. “That ship would only have attacked you if you were intent on destroying the order that brings peace to the galaxy.”

Paige could see her face appear in the reflection of Phasma’s chest plate. It was purple and swollen around her mouth. “What you call peace is violence and oppression.”

“Control comes in many forms. What plan did the resistance have for controlling the war lords, mob bosses, and arms dealers?”Phasma stared down at Paige. “Fear is sometimes a necessary part of order. Order is a necessary part of peace. Your resistance is why there is need for protocol and leadership.” Phasma motioned for Paige to follow as she sauntered out of the room. Paige sat staring in awe at the space Phasma once occupied. This has to be a trap.

Phasma’s voice called from outside. “You are welcome to stay in the brig if you would like, but I am busy and will need to get back to my work soon. So make up your mind.”

Paige slipped off the table. Her body nearly buckled beneath her as she tried to fight her way into the corridor. Her body gave way as she stumbled through the door and into Phasma’s reflexive catch.

“We need a med chair down at cell 28V.” Phasma’s voice clicked above Paige and soon a trooper in white came rushing towards her with a sleek black chair.

Phasma barely seemed encumbered as she lifted Paige into the chair, situating her comfortably. The pain seemed to be altering Paige’s vision and a dizziness washed over her as she tried to swallow back the bile in her throat, but it erupted. She spewed vomit all over the floor and it splashed onto Phasma’s shiny silver boots.

Phasma seemed un-phased as she spoke with authority to the trooper. “I want a medteam in my quarters in 15 minutes and you will retrieve the name of the officer in charge of this interrogation. This was a Class D interrogation and it is clear that Class A tactics were used.”

“Sir.” The trooper spoke and hurried away.

Phasma stepped forward her cape flourishing behind her as she walked. The chair followed next to her instinctively. Paige received what she felt were odd looks as the two of them wound their way through the maze of corridors, but no one blocked their path. Everyone seemed to duck their heads and rush quickly by Phasma as if hoping she wouldn’t take notice. The world of straight sleek lines, parted for her in a fluid natural way. Paige didn’t know why, but she was starting to feel comfortable with Phasma towering over her, but in the back of her mind, that comfort made her uneasy – if that oxymoron of a sentiment made any sense at all.

“You said I was free?” Paige asked finally.

Phasma didn’t look down as she spoke. “We obviously will not be making any special trips for you.” Phasma paused. “Unless you are willing to give up a resistance hideout.” She seemed to almost chuckle as if she had made a joke – almost. “Otherwise, we will let you leave at any planet, or stop that you wish to leave on.” They turned a corner. “I will have someone bring you a schedule and you can pick a planet from the list. The schedule is subject to change, mostly as a result of the war your rebellion has started.” Phasma stopped at a shut door with a keypad latched to the side and punched in a few numbers. “War is chaos, which disrupts order. We still try to keep it as scheduled as possible.”

The world was spinning, but Paige pushed words out into the vortex. “What will happen to me in the meantime?”

Phasma reached another set of blocked doors and punched in a few more numbers on the keypad. “This is the officer’s wing.”

Paige looked at the corridor, which didn’t appear much different from the rest of the corridors, except maybe it was longer and had very few doors – as if the rooms they opened up to were larger than rooms in other parts of the ship.

“The officer’s quarters are here.” Phasma flourished her cloak as she gestured to the hall. “Kylo Ren and Hux have the two corner rooms on the end. Snoke, of course, has the whole upper floor, which includes his throne room – you would be quite unlucky to ever see it.” Phasma stopped at a door near the entrance to the hall and punched a few more numbers on the keypad.

The door made a swishing noise as it slid into the wall, revealing a large and spacious living room. The living room was decorated in mostly grey with hints of black and red. All of the machinery was the same shiny chrome Phasma wore on her body. Paige was in awe at the sheer gaudiness of it as Phasma ushered her through the living room and through an adjacent doorway. A room with a large bed in the center greeted Paige, and Phasma had carried Paige gently into the bed before Paige could protest. Alarms flared in her head and she looked for anything that could be used as a weapon.

Phasma seemed to notice her discomfort for she tried to explain. “This is my room. While you are not technically a prisoner, you are still a murderer and my responsibility. I cannot allow you to cause more harm to this organization. I need to get back to work, a medteam will be in here shortly and I will have a medtech check back regularly. If they mistreat you, they will answer to me.”

“What will you do for sleep?” Paige asked nervously.

“For the time being, I will sleep outside in the living room while you recover. Once you have recovered, we will reassess and determine the risk you pose to The Order. If your risk level has been downgraded enough, I can offer you a room in our low-security guest quarters until you leave. Should you choose to stay on board longer, you will undergo an assessment test to determine a role that best suits your aptitude, and you will contribute. Your quarters will be adjusted depending on your role.”

“Am I allowed to leave your quarters anytime I wish, or am I captive here?”

Phasma moved towards the door. “After you are cleared by the medteam, you are welcome to roam the public areas of the ship with an escort. But I would caution you, many on this ship – including the officers – knew people on the one you destroyed. Your safety is not a guarantee and my presence improves it considerably. You are not a prisoner here, but your history does make the situation…delicate. I will have the medteam bring you the schedule of stops so you can be choosing which planet you would like to grace your scum.”

Paige scrunched her eyebrows. “I don’t understand. If you hate me so much, why did you stand up for me?”

Phasma turned her back as she spoke. “Because…I know of fates worse than death. And one such fate is living with the guilt of thousands.”

Paige let her head lean to the side. “But I don’t feel guilty. I am a hero.”

“That’s because you don’t yet understand.”

  “Phasma?”

Paige Tico awoke to the sound of someone entering Phasma’s quarters.

“Phasma?” The voice vibrated with a dramatic growl Paige sensed was disguising its natural shrillness. “What are you doing out here? Why are you sleeping on the couch?”

A scuffle outside in the living room area of Phasma’s quarters alerted Paige that Phasma was startled by the intrusion.

“Prisoner r10354.” Phasma’s voice this time.

“Ah.” The other voice, which Paige guessed belonged to a young male spoke. “The interrogation experiment.”

A prickle ran across Paige’s arms, interrogation experiment?...like hell.

The man had been speaking and Paige picked up on his conversation. “Several Resistance fighters on board, including that girl who took out Ren in the forest… and the traitor previously known as FN2187.” A burst of noise as the pair hurried towards the door.  “The girl is with Ren and the Supreme Leader…” the voice disappeared as they entered the corridor.

Paige cursed. Rey and Finn. That’s who they must have been talking about. She was already clawing her way out of bed. Even if she might have been able to walk to the medchair, her foot caught on Phasma’s helmet and she tumbled to the floor – hard.

Her head buzzed as she felt the bile erupt – her stomach’s contents spilling onto the smooth floor. It would not surprise her if she was vomiting from sheer pain. She sensed her consciousness slip in and out. The meds, her eyes grazed the sleek nightstand where the medtech had left her a course of pain meds.

She cursed again like a battle cry as she kicked Phasma’s nightstand and a shot of medicine tumbled to the floor, rolling under the bed and just out of Paige’s reach. Force. Her consciousness slipped in and out again. Another round of heaving up the contents of her stomach onto the floor beside her. She wiped her mouth and reached up into the bed frame, yanking her body under the bed. A wave of dizziness rushed over her – she sensed she was not thinking clearly as she grabbed the shot and shoved it into her neck.

Immediately, the pain dulled, although the functionality in her body did not return. She flipped to her stomach and clawed her way out from under the bed and yanked her body into the medchair. Hitting a button on the panel, she manually rolled it over to Phasma’s unattended gear. She slipped the gear into the seat next to her and took a black blanket from the top of the bed, tucking it over the gear. She didn’t know why she took the time to grab Phasma’s spare gear. It just seemed like it might come in handy.

She clicked the menu button on the chair and it pulled up recent commands. /Track Phasma/ was the last command. Paige shrugged and pressed it. The chair sprung to life, rolling into Phasma’s living room and out into the corridor of the officer’s wing.

A woman in a black suit sprinted by her, buttoning up her jacket. Paige winced, but the woman didn’t notice (or didn’t care) that Paige was rolling about the officer’s wing. So she continued. The door at the end of the corridor opened for Paige as she neared. Same as the next one, and the ones after that as Paige’s chair kept navigating the corridors. She shivered from the exertion on her body, still woozy and lightheaded. Even with the officer-grade pain medicine, her body throbbed.  

As the chair turned a corner, a group of Stormtroopers took notice and twisted in her direction.

“State your purpose.” The lead trooper spoke.

“Uh.” Paige felt saliva build in her mouth preventing her lips from moving correctly.  

The trooper cocked her head at the lump next to Paige. “What are you transporting?”

“I am…uhh…under Captain Phasma’s protection.” Paige wondered if that statement was even true. “r10354.” Paige added, repeating the tag Phasma had said earlier.

“r10354?” The trooper asked. “That sequence indicates a high level war criminal.”

A trooper from the back stepped forward. “Murderous scum.” A glowing baton entered the trooper’s hand.

“Hang on just a second.” Paige lifter her hands. “Check the database. Surely there is something in there about my release.”

The lead trooper placed an arm across the one with the baton. “We will take her to Captain Phasma.”

Paige nodded. “Sure, that’s…acceptable.” I’ll think of a way to ditch them – or maybe I can convince Phasma to let me leave with Finn and Rey. That was clearly the dumbest thought that had ever entered her mind, and yet…

The lead trooper punched some commands into the keypad on Paige’s chair and Paige and her entourage marched forward. There were four of them Paige noticed – all surrounding her – as they stepped in unison. Great, Paige thought, but even as she thought it – something happened Paige did not expect.

A rumble shook the floor beneath the team and alarms sounded. Everything happened quickly and Paige could barely make sense of it, but a split second after the alarms – a violent eruption flung Paige’s body against the back of the medchair. Her neck strained with the sudden snap.

The chair seemed to have some sort of technology for bracing itself against this violent lurch of the ship and it had automatically deployed some type of harness to secure her in place. The corridor grew cold – freezing even and pressure yanked her to the side, but the chair kept her in place. There was an odd silence to the pressure – like people were screaming but she could not hear them.

The trooper next to her vanished into the air. Paige gasped. The trooper floated outside of the ship spinning away into the vacuum of space.

There is a hole in the ship.

She struggled for Phasma’s helmet and fought to put it on her head. With the helmet, the pressure normalized and the temperature increased around her head. She even felt like her breaths grew more stable. With each gasp, she gathered a soft waft of citrus and disinfectant. She didn’t recognize the fruit, but it was calming. Breathe slowly, she reminded herself, Assess the situation.

Only two of the entourage was left. The trooper behind her – the one who had called her a murderer – and the trooper to her right – the lead trooper – were clinging to her chair. The door to her front wasn’t too far away so she pressed her hands into the controls and manually moved it towards the door. It seemed to be laborious for the chair – eternity could have passed for all she knew. The troopers’ weight was clearly adding to the already heavy burden of fighting space, and she noticed the trooper behind her was losing his grip.

In what Paige can only describe as instinctual stupidity, she grabbed the trooper’s hand just as he slipped from the chair and flung into the air. This action dislocated Paige’s shoulder. It hurt, but those officer-grade pain killers were doing their job.

Paige gritted her teeth as she gripped the trooper, refusing to let go now. She used her remaining arm to maneuver to the door. When they reached it, the lead trooper leaned over and punched a few buttons. The door swung wide and some debris shot from behind it, missing the group as they pressed forward. As soon as the trooper attached to Paige’s hand cleared the door, the lead trooper shut it. With artificial gravity back, the other trooper crashed into the floor and wrenched Paige’s arm in a new and painful direction. Paige wheezed for new fresh air as her head spun in a woozy blur.

The trooper on the ground groaned. “You…saved me?” He questioned.

Paige leaned back against the chair, not sure how much more her body could take. “Just bring me to Phasma, now.” She demanded and her voice echoed from behind Phasma’s mask.

The troopers appeared startled for a moment before they both nodded. That’s where they were taking me anyway. The male scrambled to his feet. They flanked either side of Paige as she punched the command onto the control panel of the chair:

/Tracking Phasma/

The trio charged through the ship to Phasma’s position amidst blaring lights and sirens. Sparks shot out from all directions but still the commotion coming from the hanger was more prominent. When they turned the corner, the entire room was ablaze and crumbling. Paige gulped when she saw Phasma mid battle with… Finn? Was that Finn?

“Phasma!!!” She screamed, horror gripping her bones. “Stop!” But her screams carried little distance for all the noise.

Then a woman ran across the hanger deck – Rose, her sister. Her sister wouldn’t be here on the ship…and yet that is Rose. She punched the chair forward, and the male trooper next to her muttered a slight protest before chasing after her. Paige’s attention shifted back to the battle as Finn struck Phasma. Paige pushed hard against the manual controls of the chair urging them forward. Faster, but it was all happening too quickly.

Phasma tumbled into the fiery chasm where the ship floor had split. Paige wasn’t sure when or how or why, but her voice was screaming into the hanger – her throat burning from the effort – a long guttural scream.

Paige and the troopers reached the crevice – Phasma’s body was not visible. All she could see was a burning red. Dully she became aware of Rose sprinting to her left.

“Rose.” She whimpered and the chair rotated towards Rose.

The male trooper grabbed his baton.

“No.” Paige spoke again the sound of her voice synthesized through the mask. “There’s no time to fight.”

The trooper froze before holstering the baton while the chair beneath Paige continued to twist of its own volition. It rotated past Rose, and angled towards a small door off the back left of the hanger bay. The chair lurched forward – control panel on the armrest still blinking. Paige thrust the chair into full speed and as Rose climbed into a ship, Paige passed behind her. She wasn’t going with her sister today.

“May the force be with you, little sister.” She whispered as the chair reached the small door.

“Sir?” The lead trooper asked and then jerked as if realizing her mistake.

And Paige would have laughed at how Phasma’s training was so good that she’d trained out the troopers’ ability to think for themselves, but somehow Paige sensed that this pair wouldn’t be following her mask or no mask if their goals weren’t aligned. So, Paige simply pointed at the control panel on her armrest.

/Tracking Phasma/ it continued to blink.

Phasma returned with a large pack strapped to a medchair. Paige eyed the pack warily before glancing up at Phasma.

“How am I going to carry that thing if I can’t even support my own weight?”

Phasma remained unmoved as she took her usual spot in the bedroom door behind the chair. It seemed to Paige that she was waiting for permission to enter.

Phasma’s voice filled the air from behind her mask. “The pack will improve your chances of survival considerably. It contains old empire-grade winter gear, enough antibiotics to last you a few weeks, and kyber crystal slivers, which are the universal currency on Hadat.”

Paige closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the pillow. “Ok…that sounds practical.”

“You can keep the medchair too,” Phasma said, “When you are ready, I will accompany you to the shuttle, which will take you to the surface of the planet. They are leaving in 15 minutes.”

Paige opened her eyes and took a deep breath and pushed herself up to the edge of the bed. Phasma stood still in the doorway, taking up the entire space, her armor like a mirror as she watched Paige try to fumble through the motions of getting out of bed. Paige managed to get herself upright and the pain in her leg was searing. Her abdomen reacted to the pain as the room spun beneath her and Phasma’s mirrored body grew in the wobbly frame. Until, Paige was again in Phasma’s arms.

Phasma eased her back into the bed and stood over her. The light from the living room ricocheted off Phasma’s armor and stabbed Paige’s throbbing head. She covered her eyes and gagged slightly at the pain in her arm too.

“Will you please take that off?” Paige garbled on her words – the back of her neck hot and sticky as her body threatened to collapse.

“Excuse me?”

“Your armor is giving me a blinding headache you are like a big screen on its brightest setting every time you move, I think I will throw up.”

Phasma stood still for a moment before unbuckling her vest, revealing the silky black shirt beneath it. The chest plate slowly dropped to the floor and out of Paige’s vision. Phasma clicked her helmet and it let out a spewing sound of pressure release before she removed it from her head and placed it on the floor near the vest.

“Thank you,” Paige gasped as the room darkened again.

After a moment, Paige realized that the room had calmed and her body felt cold instead of warm. She was shaking against the sweat it had produced. Her hand fumbled for the large black comforter as she managed to pull a corner of it over her. Her body shook beneath it.

Phasma still hadn’t moved. Paige peeked and saw Phasma’s face for the first time. Blond hair, blue eyes, Paige didn’t know what she was expecting but Phasma’s unmasked appearance was shocking to her. Maybe she had secretly hoped that Phasma was something grotesque, but she was quite handsome – stunning in a regal sort of way.

Phasma stared ahead with a stoic face as Paige grasped for the edge of the bed again. “I will be ready to go before the shuttle leaves.” Paige said.

Phasma’s lips disappeared and reappeared as she pushed them together and rolled them back out. “You will not be on that shuttle.”

Paige took a deep breath as she asked. “Why?”

“Your freedom has been rescinded… pending a physical evaluation.”

Paige gulped. “You said I was free to go whenever. Are you a liar?”

“You will not survive. Letting you leave on that shuttle today is no different from fulfilling a termination order. The Order requires all personnel be able to pass a physical evaluation prior to boarding any shuttles for departure. As of this moment, I hereby require guests to fulfil the eval as well.”

“No.” Paige said as sternly as one could expect when a very tall and intimidating woman towered over her.

“You defy me?” Phasma asked plainly.

“No. I don’t defy you.” Paige bit back. “I am just saying, you don’t have to change protocol on my account. I won’t go to Hadat…if you send that pack of supplies and anything else you can spare to set up a medbay for the colony.”

Phasma turned and walked towards that door, half her body still covered in shiny metal, the other half exposed or in that black silk they wore beneath it. She paused when she reached the door. “I will set up a primitive medbay for the colony and leave behind one medtech if you agree to stay until you are healed.”

“Done.” Paige said without hesitation.

As Phasma disappeared and Paige sunk into a fever dream she had a final thought – Rose would be very proud.

But there was a lot about the politics of running a galaxy that Paige didn’t yet understand.