Summary: Captain Phasma saves a girl while raiding a village who doesn't need much saving. She grows up in the harsh environment that is the First Order. While keeping her Jedi powers hidden from most, Supreme Leader Snoke sends her on a mission to persuade the Padawans of Luke Skywalker to join the Darkside, but little does she know that it will also change her along the way. Eventual OC/Kylo.
Disclaimer: Of course I do not own anything of the Star Wars in any capacity, this FanFiction is written for pure enjoyment and nothing else.
AN: Hello dear Star Wars fans! The idea for this story started out as a small thought in my head, but since I have seen the new movie twice now, it has grown into a full storyline with new characters and exiting adventures. The opening scene starts 15 years before the start of Episode VII: The Force Awakens. The main story will start approximately 4 years before Episode VII and will focus on a main OC character and Kylo Ren mostly. I will most likely also write chapters, or parts of chapters, from the point of view of other characters, including both existing and OCs. I do not intend to go very AU, but it might be that I change some things as I go along because they suit the storyline better. I hope you will enjoy reading this first chapter and that you let me know what you think of it; I would greatly appreciate a review! A big thank you to my fellow writer LeviAntonius who always helps me while writing and who also made the beautiful cover picture for this story! I hope you all enjoy!
Chapter 1: A New Soldier
The place looked desolate. The trees that were standing along the outer edges of the village seemed dark and tall, their leaves rustling in the wind. Captain Phasma did not see any movement between the houses and only heard her own breathing inside her chromium helmet. She knew that they were waiting for her orders. If she looked carefully she would be able to make out the shapes and figures of her squadron along the tree lines. Yet she did nothing. Her mission was simple: go to expansion region, find the argiworld Vernet and gather as much food as you can. She had already raided four villages across the planet, but had room in her ships for a little more. Captain Phasma had always been a person to take full advantage of her options, and thus she would not let one grain escape her grasp.
Nevertheless, she waited. Her soldiers would not become impatient; they would wait for her signal until sunrise if she chose to. They would not dare to say a word. She made sure of that when she trained them for the First Order. But the question she asked herself was why she made them wait. All was quiet, the villagers and farmers were sleeping, she could attack them knowing that most of them would get killed in their sleep. A merciful death that was, most of them did not even deserve it. Still it was strange. Vernet was an argiworld, consisting of farmlands and small villages who traded their food with other planets. But Captain Phasma could see that the sun was starting to rise and yet no farmer had awoken to work on his land, not one light was shining in a window of one of the houses. It was dead quiet.
She sniffed the air, but through her helmet the scent became distorted. It was a mixture of freshly cut grass and metal. She had to make a decision, she knew that, the capital city Maz-Verlin could get word of her raids any moment and might sent over their small army, but an army nonetheless.
Captain Phasma raised her fist in the air, held it for a few seconds, but then opened her hand and moved her arm downward. The stormtroopers came into movement. Their footsteps and commandos soon overwhelmed the sound of the wind and she herself started to move towards the village. She fingered the trigger of her blaster rifle and in a few big strides stood beside one of the houses. Everything was still dark. Her instincts told her that something did not add up, but she stayed calm. She would never lose her calm.
She moved her hand in a signal to the troops to her right. In one kick the front stormtrooper opened the door, but almost instantly was hit back by a frying pan hitting him in the face. Immediately another stormtrooper reacted by shooting and Captain Phasma saw the body of an elderly woman drop over the porch of the house. The villagers knew they were there.
"Attention all squadrons, villagers are aware of our position. Kill at first sight," she said in her impassive voice knowing that they could all hear her in their helmets.
The stormtrooper in front of her stepped over the dead body of the woman and soon the room of the house was filled with red flashlights of his blaster rifle. More doors were being kicked in and Captain Phasma could hear the screaming of villagers. She saw some being dragged out by their clothing or hair onto the wet grass and being shot in the chest. She did not smile, since it was not in her nature to do so, but knew that this squadron was trained well.
The screaming intensified, she heard children cry and saw a man trying to run for the treeline with a baby on his shoulder. Phasma aimed her blaster rifle and shot him in the back. The man fell, face down in the grass while the baby continued to cry. She would not shoot the baby, but instead take it with her to the First Order so it could be trained to become a stormtrooper. She would get it later.
"Captain, we have found the grain." Phasma turned around, a stormtrooper stood behind her, his rifle by his side still smoking from all the shooting he had apparently done.
"Good. Load as much as you can unto the ships, let me know when you are done." He nodded, made a small bow and was off.
When he left, a small house came into Phasma's view. She had not seen it before since trees surrounded it and it stood apart from the village. The squadron had not yet reached it and her instinct as a captain told her to inspect it. In a mere minute she reached the small, wooden home. The windows were dark, just like the other houses were, but she heard no movement, no screams. Nothing. It was as if they had heard nothing of the commotion or there was simply no one home.
Phasma kicked the door in with little effort. The room inside was a mess and she could smell the stench of alcohol and cigars. She was not taken back by it and strode into the middle of the room. Her feet kicked glass bottles out of the way and her hand reached up to turn on her helmet's flashlight, but the sound of feet made her turn around.
She reacted first by pointing her rifle at the person behind her and almost immediately pulled the trigger, but she stopped herself. She clicked her flashlight on and it illuminated the face of a little girl. She could be no older than eight years. Her face was dirty, black smears covered her cheeks and her dark, almost black eyes reflected the light of the flashlight. Her light brown hair was cut short, it fell around her face in strays of curls and looked unkempt. The girl looked downright neglected. But her face did not betray any emotion; she did not even look at the rifle that was pointed straight at her. She looked at Phasma.
Phasma opened her mouth to say something, but a scream interrupted her. Before she could turn around she felt a glass bottle hit her helmet and she almost lost her balance. Her flashlight went out with a bang and fell to the ground, scattering into small pieces. The person behind her screamed again and Phasma swirled back trying to hit the person with her rifle in the dark. She could barely see anything and her head was dizzy from the blow. She felt the rifle connecting with a shoulder and she heard a loud yelp before the person fell to the ground. Phasma directly grabbed her rifle by its handle and pulled the trigger, hoping she was firing it at the person. Her breathing was loud and she could almost hear it over the blasts of the weapon. The red flashes lit up the room and she could see that she was shooting a woman in her abdomen. She did not stop until she was assuredly dead. The room went dark again and Phasma could smell the burning skin of the body at her feet.
Displeased, she realised that the girl must have run away and escaped. She turned her back to the body, expecting to see an empty doorway, but to her surprise the girl had only moved a few steps backwards to protect herself from the swing of Phasma's rifle. Phasma opened her mouth, ready to ask her what she was doing when the girl interrupted her.
"You killed my mother," she said, her voice lacking any kind of emotion.
Phasma waited, not sure of what the child would do. Her finger pressed the trigger ever so slightly, making sure that she could fire at any moment. But the girl spoke again.
"Thank you." Phasma watched her face. It showed no pain, nor anger or sadness. It was blank, devoid of any signs that could alarm Phasma. She was stoic, like herself.
The girl turned her head away from her dead mother's body and looked at Phasma. The girl could not see, but Phasma raised an eyebrow and looked the child up and down again. Her clothes were torn, just as dirty as her face was. Her left arm showed small round burns as if multiple cigars had been pressed on her skin.
"What is you name, child?" Phasma asked, her voice calm and monotone.
"Ylva," the girl answered, without taking her dark eyes off of Phasma. "Can I come with you now?"
Phasma did not react, not to the girl, but also not to herself. The girl was in truth too old to be taken back to the First Order to be trained as a stormtrooper. But Phasma had never met a child who was already detached from her emotions as she trained her soldiers to be. Because of this, she felt a strange sort of respect for the girl, as if she was almost glad to have found her.
"Do you know who I am?" Phasma asked, not really expecting a serious answer, but asking her nonetheless.
"You are with the white soldiers outside, who killed all the people," Ylva answered, her voice quite loud for a child.
"Then why do you want to come with me?"
"Because, there is nobody left."
The girl intrigued Phasma. The First Order could not object to her bringing along an older child if they knew what she was like. The girl threw another glance at her mother's body, but still there was no reaction to be seen on her face.
"Can we go now?" the girl asked again, her voice monotone like that of the Captain herself. Phasma nodded, if there were consequences she would deal with them later.
Suddenly Phasma felt something grab her hand. She looked down and saw that the girl had gripped her hand and started to walk towards the door. Phasma let her for some reason.
The door creaked as Ylva pushed it open, it hung on its last hinge. The darkness of the room disappeared and a warm light shined onto Phasma's helmet. The sun had risen above the tree line, but that was not the source of the bright glow. The squadron had lit the houses and the bodies that were lying in the grass on fire. Their flamethrowers were burning down the village as they were retrieving back to their ships.
Phasma looked down on Ylva, trying to see if the child displayed any emotion at the sight of her village burning down. But Ylva only stared back at her and gave a small smile.
"I like your hat, it's shiny."
AN 2.0: I hope you liked the first chapter! Please leave your thoughts and comments in a review. If you see any grammar or spelling mistakes, please do alert me since English is not my native language and I would be happy to change any mistakes that I might have made.