Chapter 3: On the Contrary
After one day of travelling through hyperspace, Captain Phasma and her troops arrived in orbit around Jakku. Phasma stood on the bridge, watching as the ship circled the brown planet below. She felt a slight tingling in her mind, subtle but not enough to be bothersome. Frowning behind her helmet, she attempted to figure out just what this mysterious feeling was. Being slightly force sensitive, Phasma deduced that the sensation was coming through her via the Force. It was strange, as she had never before felt such a sensation, not once during the dozens of battles, or the many hundreds of times she had killed.
So why now? She thought, slightly irritated at this newfound bother.
Pushing the thought aside, Phasma knew she had to get down to business. Activating her helmet comm, she opened a channel with one of her subordinates.
"Sergeant, gather the men and have a shuttle ready for our departure." She ordered in a stern tone.
"Yes sir!" The sergeant obediently responded. Sergeant TK-7999, or "Nines", was one of her most trusted and loyal soldiers. He had fought alongside her for well over six years and obeyed her every command without question or hesitation.
Marching off the bridge, Phasma headed for her quarters. Reaching the door to her quarters, she palmed a code and the door instantly slid open. After stepping in and waiting for the door to slide shut, the commander of the First Order's stormtroopers kneeled down and reached under her bunk; and pulled out a bag from the space. Removing her helmet, she proceeded to undo the straps around the bag, and began to remove the many different components that lay inside. She began to assemble her personal blaster rifle, hoping that in the time it took her to assemble the blaster, her troops would be preparing to depart themselves. Her gloved hands worked at a rapid pace, the process of assembling the blaster had become muscle memory. Within less than two minutes her blaster was complete. She popped a charger pack into the rifle and ensured that it was fully charged, and put additional packs into pouches on her waist belt. On this mission, she might need all the firepower she could get. Ensuring that she was ready, she once again donned her helmet and walked out of the door, blaster rifle held across her chest in proper military posture. Her blaster was larger compared to the standard blaster rifles used by the First Order- perhaps it was larger because the individual wielding it stood a good deal taller than most of the soldiers in the organization.
Arriving at the small docking bay, Phasma was greeted with the sight of thirty of her troops lined up neatly in two lines, one line on either side of the lowered shuttle ramp. At the head of each line of stormtroopers stood two sergeants; their rank indicated by a bright orange pauldron on their shoulder, the color standing in stark contrast to the white of their armor.
Phasma halted and looked at her troops that stood before her. The platoon consisted of regular, heavy, and flame troopers.
"Sergeants Nines and Krax, report." Captain Phasma ordered, her electronically altered voice reverberating around the small docking bay.
"Section Alpha ready for departure, Captain." Sergeant Nines replied in military fashion.
"Section Beta ready to depart, sir." Sergeant TK-5659, or "Krax", reported.
Phamsa nodded at receiving confirmation that her men were ready to board. "Section Alpha, left face!" She commanded, the named section obeying the command without pause. "Section Beta, right face!" Section Beta followed Phasma's command without a fault.
With both sections now facing the shuttle ramp, Captain Phasma issued the command to, "March!"
Both sections began to march up the ramp and into the shuttle, two by two. Within moments all were aboard, and Phasma soon followed her men, the shuttle ramp closing behind her. With herself and her men securely onboard, Phasma only had to wait a few moments before the floors began to vibrate as the engines roared to life; a few seconds after that, the shuttle lifted off from the docking bay and blasted towards the brown sphere below.
Within ten minutes, the shuttle had set down on the outskirts of a small isolated village. General Hux had given her the estimated path that the two criminals had taken as they were pursued by First Order forces. The data indicated that their flight from the First Order originated in this small village.
The shuttle ramp lowered with a hiss, and Phasma led the way down the ramp, her troops following behind her. It was nighttime on this side of Jakku, and the pitch black darkness enveloped everything. A faint glow came from the village that was their objective. During the shuttle flight to the surface, Captain Phasma had also received the coordinates of the crashed TIE fighter that Finn had taken in his escape.
With all her troops gathered behind her, Phasma devised a plan. Turning to Sergeant Krax, the Captain gave an order to the pauldron wearing trooper. "Sergeant, have five men investigate the TIE wreckage, and maintain three troopers here to guard the shuttle. "
"Yes sir!" Krax replied, and went about carrying out his superior's order.
Phasma turned to her remaining troops. "The rest of you will come with me."
Phasma began to walk in the direction of the village, her men following diligently behind her.
As the platoon of twenty two troopers descended on the village, the once faint glow increased in magnitude. Phasma halted right beside a small hut, evaluating the situation. The village was eerily quiet, no sounds were heard, and no villagers were seen.
Captain Phasma turned to Sergeant Nines. "Have your men go hut by hut, rouse the occupants. I want to have the entire village assembled in the central marketplace in no more than fifteen minutes. Do I make myself clear?"
"Very clear!" Nines responded as he and his men went about their orders. Soon, stormtroopers were barging into huts; the startled cries and shouts of panicked villagers increased as they were rudely awoken from their slumbers, and dragged out from their homes.
While the stormtroopers went about their orders, the flametroopers remained near Phasma. The captain watched as villagers were herded with force towards the central marketplace.
At exactly fifteen minutes after she had issued the order, Phasma began walking towards the marketplace, her flametroopers following behind her. Her cape fluttered as a small breeze blew through the narrow streets and corridors; her heavy and well calculated steps echoing above the whimpers of the frightened villagers.
Nearly one hundred villagers were surrounded by a circle of both stormtroopers and heavytroopers, whose blasters were aimed at their quaking bodies. Many of the villagers stared in silent fear. They had never encountered such force since the fall of the Empire, and did not know what was going to happen to them.
As Captain Phasma stopped before the villagers, she turned her helmet back and forth, gazing at the collection of villagers before her. All were dressed in typical desert clothing, light tunics and pants, and all were quite scared. Women clung to their husbands, some men hid behind their women, and children clung to their parents.
Perfect. The more frightened the better. Phasma thought darkly.
An old man suddenly stepped forward; Captain Phasma quickly aimed her blaster at the frail old man. The old man stopped in his tracks.
"What is it that you want, food, water, shelter?" The old man's soft voice broke the previously speechless silence.
"Answers." Phasma growled immediately, she wanted answers and she was going to get answers. "About the two criminals you allowed to hide in this village two days ago. I want answers and you are going to give them to me."
"I have no recollection about what you speak of." The old man answered her angered statement.
She seethed at the answer, if Captain Phasma was anything, she was not stupid. She could see the lie in the man's eyes. "You know damn well that is not true!" He electronically altered voice roared throughout the village. She was somewhat satisfied when she saw fear sparkle in the eyes of the villagers. She smiled at the sight.
She stood in silence for a few moments, letting the fear of the villagers increase. "I see," she spoke with a frightening calm to her voice, "perhaps you need additional persuasion." Clipping her blaster rifle to her thigh, Phasma turned towards a nearby hut, and then to the flametrooper nearest to her. "Light it up."
The flametrooper stepped forward and aimed his flamethrower at the hut. The surprised gasps of villagers soon became screams of fright and anguish as the hut went up in flames.
"Please! Please stop, I beg of you!" The old man feebly shouted as he watched the flames spew from the flamethrower and towards the hut.
"Then give me the answers I want, old man. I will spare the rest of the village if you do so." Phasma replied to the man's pleas; the firelight glowing off of her armor.
Phasma's stern voice silenced the frightened villagers; the only sound heard was the crackling of flames as they consumed the hut.
"They…. they," the old man tried to speak, "two, a boy and a girl. We allowed them to hide in an abandoned hut for a couple of hours, and then your soldiers came. They ran through here as they were being pursued, and did not stop." The elder's voice was colored with defeated despair.
"In what direction were they headed?" Phasma pushed.
"They ran in the direction of the village three clicks from here." The old man pointed in the said direction.
Without a word, Phasma gestured to her troops and began walking back in the direction of the shuttle. The stormtroopers that were guarding the villagers broke the formation and followed their commander.
When Captain Phasma and her troops reached the shuttle, Sergeant Krax had already arrived. Behind the returning troops, a small pillar of smoke wafted from the still burning hut.
"What have you found Krax?" Phasma asked her Sergeant who she had sent to investigate the TIE wreckage.
"We found pieces of armor, indicating that Trooper Finn removed his armor and fled in a different garb. Everything else appears nominal, Captain" Krax reported his findings to his superior.
Nodding her head, Phasma turned and looked over all of her troops. "Board the shuttle, our next objective is the village three clicks from here."
Her order was followed and her soldiers boarded the shuttle. Within moments the vehicle had lifted off the ground and into the darkened sky.
A loud rapping on his door woke him from his sleep.
"What!?" Major William Anders shouted in annoyance, having been woken from a pleasant dream.
Without warning, the door swung open and a thin dark haired teenager ran in.
"What is it Private Dryse?" Will said, sitting up on his bunk.
"Sir, F…. First Order troops spotted three clicks from here. They're on their way here!" The boy practically mumbled his findings.
It did not matter. Anders shot up from his bunk and began putting on his tan uniform jacket- he always wore his uniform pants to bed.
As he readied himself, he gave orders to the young private. "Have the villagers shelter in place. Tell Rogers to mobilize the rest of the men immediately. Get all the troops out of the village, and have them take up positions in the surrounding dunes. I want to have the advantage of both surprise and terrain. Send a comm to the surrounding garrisons; have them mobilize as soon as possible. I want them on their way here in less than five minutes, and they better be running as fast as they can." He was glad that he had decentralized the garrison, spreading them out among the villages that dotted the planet.
The young private nodded and rushed out the door.
Will continued to get ready, donning his knee high boots, and quickly tying the red colored Semian officer's sash around his waist. If he was going to fight, he wanted to have something from the previous war he had survived. Hoping it brought him good luck.
He then put on his belt and shoulder strap, holstering his blaster and sheathing his large knife. Donning a black cloak around his uniform, and putting on his tan peaked cap, he rushed out into the night, ready to meet the enemy.
Captain Phasma once again stepped out of the shuttle, having once again landed on the outskirts of the village. The intel she had received indicated that there was a garrison of Resistance soldiers on the planet, but with their base over four hundred clicks away, they posed no threat. She would be long gone when word of her arrival had reached their measly ears.
Phasma began her trek down to the village, once again leaving three troopers to guard the shuttle. With both of her sergeants, regular, flame, and heavy troopers surrounding her, Phasma entered the village. Much like before, it was quiet; no doubt the villagers had hidden themselves from the white armored soldiers.
The lights of the village gleamed off their armor. Phasma knew that she had to get the villagers out from their hiding spots, and she knew just the way to do it. Picking out a random hut, she removed her blaster from her thigh clip and activated the light on the end of the stock. Gesturing to a heavy trooper near her, Phasma and the trooper walked over to the hut. With a powerful kick, the door crashed inwards; the occupants inside screamed as their door crashed to the ground. The family inside was greeted to the sight of a tall stormtrooper clad in chrome armor standing in their doorway, blaster pointed at them.
"Get them up and drag them out." Phasma ordered the heavytrooper beside her.
The ringing sensation that she had felt on the bridge of the transport had increased to the point of becoming a major annoyance. It no longer felt like an itch, it had become a headache.
As the trooper manhandled the wife and child out, Phasma stalked into the hut and dragged the man out behind them, shoving him to the sand below, and aiming her blaster directly at him.
"Let them go." A hard and stern voice said, all heads- both stormtrooper and frightened villager- whipped towards the direction the voice had come from.
Sergeant Huxly was excited to say the least. He had seen little fighting when he had joined the Semian Equality Army in the final year of the civil war. Now with the arrival of these stormtroopers that was seemingly about to change.
He along with about ten other men had moved into the dunes surrounding the village, per Major Anders' orders. But now, he and his squad were silently stalking away from the village, after Lieutenant Rogers had ordered him to capture the enemy shuttle. He knew the surrounding garrisons of Captain Muradd and Lieutenant Defflan had been mobilized by Anders, and was running towards the young officer's position.
As he and his men neared the coordinates given, he began to make out the outline of a First Order shuttle, and also noticed three stormtroopers guarding it; their white armor faintly visible against the backdrop of the night.
Using a hang signal to halt his men, Huxly crouched low to the ground. Beside him, young Private Dryse drew up beside him.
" Sir,what are your orders?" The private quietly whispered to him.
Huxly thought for a moment, before deciding to use a tactic that his commander had perfected during the Semian Civil War. "Envelop from both sides and the front. I want this done as quickly and quietly as possible. I want the prisoners alive and unharmed, I repeat, alive and unharmed." He whispered to Private Dryse and the rest of his men.
After receiving nods from his men, Huxly divided his squad into three groups and slowly they advanced towards the unsuspecting shuttle. He made sure that he and his men were hidden so their heat signatures wouldn't be picked up by the HUD's of the stormtroopers. He was nearly on top of them when he gave his men the signal to execute, a whistle.
The sound visibly startled the three troopers, giving Huxly and his men enough time to envelop the guards. Within a second, the three stormtroopers found themselves surrounded by blaster rifles pointed directly at them.
One of the troopers' hands moved as if readying himself to raise his blaster.
"Wouldn't do that soldier, your helmet comms are jammed, you are surrounded by a force three times your size, and we are armed with high penetrating rifles." Huxly warned the white clad trooper, whose hands soon relaxed.
Unlike most of the galaxy, the Semians added a naturally occurring resource on their planet to the blaster charger packs they produced. This gave increased speed and power to the bolts the blasters fired; allowing them be virtually unseen, and penetrate the heaviest armor in one or two shots. The disadvantage arose as the amount of charge carried in each pack was reduced, and a small amount of smoke was produced after each discharge.
Huxly relieved the captured stormtroopers of their weapons, but did not move to cuff them. He and his men guarded the enemy combatants, all holding their breath, waiting for the firefight to begin below.
In the village below, Phasma and her men raised their blasters in the direction of the voice.
"Show yourself!" Phasma ordered at a near yell. The ringing in her mind was becoming unbearable.
The sounds of heavy footfalls were heard, and soon the heat signature of the target appeared on the stormtroopers' HUDs. The figure slowly walked toward the group, still bathed in darkness. Every trooper had their weapons trained on the unknown individual. The figure finally stepped out into the light of the village.
Phasma saw a black cloak surrounding the man; he stopped just a few feet away from the chrome armored captain.
Will Anders had hidden himself behind a row of huts, knowing that failing to do so would result in his heat signature being detected by these stormtroopers. He had announced his presence and walked slowly out, attempting to appear as nonthreatening as possible. While he knew he had the advantage, and could easily wipe this patrol of stormtroopers out, Will did not wish to spill blood this quiet night. Now he found himself standing a few feet away from a chrome armored stormtrooper who had a black cape secured around their neck.
Must be the commander. Will thought in slight humor, despite the situation.
Every blaster including that of the chrome trooper was trained on him. He clutched his cloak tight around his body, knowing that once squeeze of their triggers could end it all.
He stared at the chrome trooper before moving his gaze towards the family huddled on the ground.
Being based in this village, he recognized the family, having seen them many times in his walks around the marketplace.
"I said to release them." He said, looking at the commander, voice stern, and brokering no room for argument.
Silence greeted his demand; a silence that seemed to stretch on for ages, before the chrome stormtrooper finally spoke. "They will be held, along with the rest of the village occupied, until I get the answers I need."
Will stared in slight shock. A woman? Very unusual. He thought as he heard the trooper speak.
"Answers regarding what exactly? He asked, his eyes once more on the family held hostage.
"You know damn well what I want." The commander spat in anger.
Will sighed, it appeared he and this stormtrooper shared something in common, they were both unrelenting until they found what they were after. "I will answer what you need, but only If you release them." He cocked his head in the direction of the family.
The chrome commander turned her head and gestured with her gloved right hand at a trooper who hovered over the family. The trooper stepped aside and without a moment's hesitation, the family ran back into their hut.
Will was left seemingly alone with the enemy. Knowing that it would help to show who he truly was, Will released his grip on his cloak and let it fall to his sides. The move exposed his tan colored uniform.
The whirring of blasters being modified to fire at close quarters was heard for a few seconds. The chrome stormtrooper commander stood fast, her blaster unmoving. "A Resistance officer." She spat in what sounded like disgust.
"Major Anders, Commander of the Jakku garrison at your service…?" Will left the question hanging.
"Captain Phasma." The chrome stormtrooper replied tersely.
"Interesting name." Will said, his inner thoughts spilling out accidently.
"Enough with the pleasantries, tell me what I want to know." The chrome Captain Phasma was all business as she took a step towards Will, who remained momentarily silent. "Or perhaps you would like to speak when you are my prisoner?"
Will shook his head slightly. "On the contrary Captain," he whistled, and the sound of many rifles cocking greeting the once noiseless surroundings. Captain Phasma and the other troopers turned their heads, looking in every direction around themselves.
"On the contrary Captain, it is you who is now my prisoner." Will said with a slight cockiness to his voice.
"Nines" does not belong to me, rightfully belongs to Greg Rucka.
