Never pass up the chance of hot water.
Terin had told her that. Hot water -hard to come by and washes away more than dirt. He wasn't good for much, certainly not the slick slicer he'd bragged he was, but he had taught her that.
He'd also taught her to never trust, and never need anyone. She'd learnt that by waking up in an empty bed in some backward system. Oh, he'd been washed away alright, drifting off into the current to someone else. Someone less griefstriken by the death of their parents in a Resistance attack. Someone less complicated and broken.
DJ shook the thoughts away, concentrating on the warm flow of perfumed water across her skin and hair. Shower over, dressed and with her other clothes worth taking folded and ready to go, she sat back at the terminal built into her desk and checked her progress.
The data card had almost reached capacity. The code she had crafted was slipping through the First Order systems, sourcing the data files, copying them and then wiping all trace of its existence. Someone had tried to lock down the system terminal in the room so she couldn't access it. And she'd had to give back Hux's data code cylinder, but she'd set up a back door wedging open the system clearances she needed; No way she was leaving empty handed.
Sipping the cold cup of caf beside her, she had bit of time to kill. A tingle of curiosity tickled her fingerstips as she typed up another data query. It was all irrelevant really, but she still typed in the query.
Opan's question before Crait still niggled, she'd meant to look into his personnel file but hadn't gotten around to it. And maybe, it might tell her something about the attack on the shuttle. Maybe there was something that she had missed - perhaps his loyalties lay beyond Hux to another master. Or maybe I'm just really nosey, she smiled as she tapped in the last line.
Twenty minutes later she had an answer. But not the one she had been expecting.
Her mouth curled into a contemptuous smile. Hux had played her well, she couldn't deny that. Like one of those little puppets she'd loved as a child; He'd been pulling her strings, making her dance for his amusement.
Time to cut the strings.
Opan hadn't been part of Hux's entourage when they had met three years. His face had been unfamiliar, and she was good with faces. But until she had accessed the files, she hadn't known that Hux had reassigned all his personal staff the moment he'd returned from Bastatha, bringing Opan into a key position and decimating the careers of those he'd relieved of duty.
So that's why Opan had been concerned about the timing.
He'd been trying to connect the dots - figure out if she had been the catalyst to Hux's actions to fire and demote his previous team. He'd been wondering if she was going to be the death of his career, although she doubted he would have been able to connect all the dots back to the true reason.
Because Hux's continual threats were empty.
According to the records nothing untoward had happened on Bastatha. There was no order for her arrest. There was no galaxy wide search for her still in place, there never had been. As far as the official records showed, Admiral Keros, distinguished hero of the First Order, had died of an unfortunate 'allergic reaction'.
Fucking unfortunate, given he'd ended up in pieces over most of the other guests.
The General had covered the whole thing up.
Sipping the cold cup of caf, and wishing it was something a hell of a lot stronge, she lent back in her chair, Her fingers strummed the desktop in thought, working through the dots.
Why cover it up? Why hide the murder, and hide her role in it?
It was obvious when she thought about it, the pieces falling into place. His anger, his fear she would talk, when she arrived.
Because if Keros was murdered, then there would be an investigation . And that would implicate the woman who Keros was seen with just prior to his death. The woman who had been in the company of General Hux, esteemed commander of the First Order, the night before. Who may have been seen accompanying him to his rooms that same evening.
Hux would have looked complicit in the murder of one of his own Admirals. Questions would have been asked, his career possibly damaged.
So he'd hidden the truth and got rid of anyone who might have put and two together. She was the last loose end.
DJ frowned, fingers stilled, because not everything made sense. It still didn't answer why he had used it to threaten her since she had arrived, why bother? If he didn't want loose ends, he could have just had her killed. Phasma had offered, Opan was practically begging to do it.
But she was still alive.
He was toying with her, letting her think she had a chance of freedom and then taking it away. Teasing her with the threat of a formal execution and being hunted down. That wasn't the actions of a cold, clinical leader, that sounded more like personal revenge.
Maybe this had nothing to do with murder, and a lot to do with pride.
The frown deepened. That's why he had dismissed all his staff, in case anyone had known, had seen him as weak, sentimental, emotional. All the things he hated. And maybe that was why he hated her now, why he had trapped her in this no man's land.
The man she had met three years ago had been proud, aloof, and maybe some of the initial attraction had been the challenge. To see if she could charm him, seduce him. It was never part of the job she'd been paid to do, that had never been her thing. No, but because he had been beautiful, cold and distant and so above everyone around him. He'd been the quietest man in the room, watchful and hard to read. She had wanted to know what made him work.
DJ smiled as she remembered her impressions of him. Ambitious in spades, proud, definitely arrogant. But also furiously intelligent and somehow they had connected, for one night.
My name is Armitage.
His first name. The smile froze, an ache in her stomach growing. How had she forgotten? No, that wasn't the right question.
Why had she remembered?
She'd slept with others since him, not many but enough over the last few years. Their names were lost, if she'd ever asked in the first place. But she had remembered his.
And there was more.
He was from Arkanis. It rained. A lot. She'd remembered that, when Kennedy said she was from the same system. He hadn't talked about a family, and the echo of his anger, shame and sadness still remained. Drank tea, tarrine tea, which she hated and they had laughed about his love of the bitter drink.
They had laughed.
Another memory, curled around him, playing with his hair, strands soft over his forehead. A mock growl as he had grabbed her wrists and rolled her over, kissing her face, her neck, moving lower.
Fuck.
Unbidden tears pricked her eyes as she sat, the weight of unexpected sadness growing heavier. The Hux she'd met in the hangar, the man who she had slapped last night was harder, bitter and angry. Almost a stranger, a golem. Worse than a stranger. There was no laughter, no softness.
But it didn't matter. Someone wanted to kill her and, even if it wasn't him, he'd given her no sign he felt anything more for her than contempt.
She hastily wiped away a tear that threatened to fall. He'd used the lie about the arrest warrant to force her to stay and play his little games. And it had been her excuse to not leave.
She was a fool.
Ten years ago she'd waited for a week in a squalid apartment waiting for Terin to return, until her credits and her gullibility had run out. Ten years later, and she was still a fool.
Was she really waiting for him to come to her? Push her up against a wall, dragging a gloved thumb across her lips as he leant down to kiss her? Tell her how much he wanted her? The heat pooling between her legs told her the answer.
Cursing her stupidity, she grabbed a hair clip and forced open the latch on the band around her wrist. Her hunch had been right, no one put explosives in a cat collar. The thin metal clip snapped it open in seconds. Disabling the tracker had taken mere minutes.
No more excuses.
No more playing along, no more waiting around for something to happen, for proving just how clever she was.. It was time to go. Time to remember who she really was. Get outside of all these politics, these war games. She owned allegiance to no one.
What was it she had said to Kennedy? She always left.
Time to take her own advice.
DJ didn't look around as the door slid open with a hiss, focused on tucking the completed data card into her trouser pocket for safe keeping. Millicent had free range of the entire floor, coming and going as she pleased. The ginger creature would stalk through her quarters at her own convenience, tail high. Curling around her legs during the night, a deep purr vibrating through her as she settled in close. DJ sighed, that animal was the only thing she was going to miss.
"Come for one last stroke have you?" she said softly as she twisted in her chair, a grin frozen on her face.
Phasma filled the doorway, almost surreally large in the confined space of her room. Almost impossibly shiny, the light bouncing off her mirrored armour. In her gloves she held a short baton. The pose wasn't threatening but DJ felt her blood chill. Last time they had met was on the Supremacy when the Captain had offered to execute her. It seemed unlikely she'd come to apologise.
DJ stood up slowly and faced her visitor, "What do you want?" There seemed little point in feinting politeness.
Phasma didn't speak, simply walked further into the room, peering through the other doorway into the bedroom beyond. They were alone.
DJ moved slowly backwards towards the sofa, putting space between them again, her eyes watching the Captain's every movement. Old habits fell into place, the familiar hyper alertness brought on by adrenaline surging through her veins..
"What are you doing here?" DJ tried again, keeping her tone even, not letting fear taint her voice. For someone who'd apparently fallen into a fiery pit only a few days ago, she looked fine. Although the armour could be hiding anything. Something in the way she held herself suggested an injury still; Perhaps she was favouring her right side, but she looked more machine than human.
Shit, had Hux detected the data download and Phasma was here to finish her finally?
"I've always despised women like you who spread your legs for any man in a pathetic attempt to survive." Phasma finally stated, the voice obviously female but in no way feminine.
"Ok…" DJ kept her voice and face neutral, as she processed words that made no sense. A spot of random character assassination seemed a strange reason for a visit.
"Because they tire of you, and then you must die" Phasma's voice through the helmet was deep, only slightly feminine in timbour.
DJ's eyebrow arched as she shook her head, trying to comprehend what Phasma was stating so seriously.
"Sorry? What? Hux has tired of me? Spreading my legs?" DJ wasn't quite sure she was hearing this right.
"Yes. He has ordered me to terminate you." That sounded entirely possible, except for the reason. Something was definitely weird.
"Because he's tired of fucking me?" DJ replied, slowly. Still struggling to get her head around the conversation, although the threat Phasma posed was still disarmingly real.
"Spoken like a whore. But yes."
DJ's flashed at the insult. Then a sudden inspiration hit, trying to buy herself some time to think of a plan.
"Oh my, are you sleeping with Hux?" DJ's tone was filled with mock incredulousness.
"What?!"
""Fuck… are you sleeping with Hux? Is that why you are here? Another of his jealous ex's? Wow, he has courage, I will give him that…" Dj cocked her head and pretended to appraise the Captain. "Did he use grappling hooks to bring you down? Did you take the helmet off or leave it on?" she winked.
"Don't be disgusting." Phasma hissed, flipped the banton until it opened up to its full size, the dull silver terminating in a sharp point at either end.
It looked definitely more intimidating now.
Looked like it wasn't just her character she wanted to assassinate.
Keeping her talking was DJ's only option. "So someone told you I was sleeping with Hux. Which I'm not. But if I was, why would that matter to anyone. Unless I was somehow getting in the way." DJ's tone was serious again, her mind racing to figure out the truth. She had no way of seeing Phasma's expressions to know if she was on the right track or not. All she could see was a wildly distorted version of herself reflected back in the armour.
DJ shook her head sadly, "If you had just said Hux wants me dead, I could have bought that...but then you wrecked it. See that was a rookie mistake. With lies, always stay away from the detail."
Phasma was working off bad intel, from someone else, not Hux. Someone who had ordered this attack. But who?
"And you were behind the shuttle? Willing to take out some of your own to get me? I can't see Hux authorising that." DJ kept her eye on the extended baton, her mouth drying as she spoke from growing nerves. That thing looked deadly and she was half the size of Phasma and her only fight training had been in bar fights.
She had to think. Maybe if she could work out who had ordered this, she could think of a way to stop it before she was kebabbed.
If not Hux, then who? Was Phasma working for Opan, or someone else?
"Ah, so you caught me in a lie. No matter. You will still die the same." Phasma's voice was measured, slowly spinning the banton with both hands. "Scum like you should probably just be shot, but I thought I'd have some fun first. Then throw the body out of an airlock. No one will ever know you didn't just run away." she sniggered, "but with order comes pain. Are you ready for yours now?"
"Wow, really? That's the line you are going to use? No, I'm not ready for the pain, it's bad enough having to listen to you talk." DJ glanced at the sofa beside her, two steps at the most. Doable.
"So go on, tell me, who wants me out of the way? It won't matter, you're about to kill me anyway."
Phasma shook her head at DJ's attempt at playing for time, but answered with evident pride.
"The Supreme Leader"
"Kylo? Kylo sent you to kill me?" It all started to make sense, Kylo had jumped to the obvious conclusions based on what he had seen that morning in Hux's room.
But why would he want me out of the way, he wasn't even here?
DJ was no threat to him. Unless it was because of Hux. To isolate him? To hurt him?
That look he'd given her that morning as he'd taken in Hux's dressing gown. Seren had had the same expression. It was jealousy, it had to be. Kylo had been jealous. No, there had been something darker hidden in his eyes as well. Possession. He wanted to possess his General. Rey had denied him, Ren needed someone by his side, someone loyal, a companion
A lover even?
And DJ was in the way.
But if she was to beat Phasma, she needed much more. There was only one way. DJ gritted her teeth and brought her hand up, fingers curved as if she was hailing her, calling the Force into her. The feeling of its power as she released her mind out and into Phasma's consciousness. The shock of the connection seared her brain, a piecing agony ripping through her skull. It had always been like this, but through the pain, she found her answers. She almost felt like she could see through the chrome helmet, to the woman inside. as the Captain clutched her own head in agony. Staggering with the pain, DJ broke the connection.
DJ had hoped the Captain would be weak-willed enough to be knocked out by the intrusion, but she had been too strong for that. But she had found answers at least. Phasma had her own reasons alright to be in her room. An ambition that had cost her family and her people their lives to fulfill it. The lives of everyone who stood in her way. But that hadn't been enough, Phasma needed more, always more. Hux.
Phasma wanted to be at Kylo's side at the head of the First Order. Her need sang through her like a clarion call. And there were dark secrets, shameful secrets that she had hidden in the deep recesses of herself.
"How the…" Phasma shook her helmet to clear her head as she felt the other woman leave her mind.
"You'll find I'm full of surprises," wincing with the pain, DJ forced herself to dive for the side of sofa before Phasma could recover fully. Thrusting her hand between the cushions she pulled the blaster she had hidden the night before. Panic made her shoot too fast, her aim wide. The blast bolt missed Phasma's shoulder as the Captain lunged towards her. A flick of the baton knocked the blaster out of her hand as DJ ducked and rolled just out of reach. They stood staring at each other. Phasma's every move was calculated, exact, unrushed as DJ panted in barely controlled fear.
"Sorcery won't make you any harder to kill"
Phasma was right about that, DJ's force use was untrained and unskilled, the cost of it draining her energy more than she could afford to admit. Her gamble might have lost her the game.
The familiar hiss drew both women's eyes to the doorway.
"Captain, stand down!" Hux drew his blaster as he strode through the entry way, the corridor empty behind him. He was alone but aiming directly at the back of Phasma's head. There had been no hesitation DJ realised. But this wasn't just about her.
Oh shit.
"Hux, leave now, get out. It's not just me she's after" DJ hissed, catching his eye for a split second.
"What is going on? Phasma I said stand down! I did not authorize this. " he shouted as she pivoted away from DJ towards him, rounding behind him as he trained his pistol on her head.
"No, General, I think you should stay here, with your whore. I never thought of you as the sentimental type. Your father certainly wasn't." Phasma said coldly. She backhanded the banton into the door activation panel, sparks flying as it shorted out; Preventing his escape.
"The Supreme Leader originally wanted me to remove her, and allow you the chance to prove yourself worthy as Grand Marshall, but I think I have a better idea, I will kill you both." the voice behind the mask was mocking as she regarded the two figures in front of her. She'd already proved she was invincible to fire, what did they think they could possibly do against her?
"Phasma, I am your commanding officer, put your weapon down!" Hux's voice was losing a little of its authoritative tone, his face paling.
Phasma tapped the baton into the palm of her hand, taunting him.
"General, do you really think you have the courage to fire that pistol? You've always got others to do your killing for you. That's why Ren needs someone like me by his side." Phasma's tone was contemptuous as she turned her head to DJ, "did he tell you what happened to his father? I poisoned him, on his orders. He's always been too scared to do what needs to be done. Unlike me." She swung the baton around into an attack position, readying herself for the endgame.
"Really? You couldn't even kill Finn and a girl, what makes you think you can take me?" DJ goaded, drawing the Captain's attention back to her, provoking her to advance in anger. Hux aimed and fired, the bolt bouncing uselessly off her armour. Phasma twisted back, her reflexes perfect. The side of the baton struck him across the face, throwing him against the wall in a crumpled heap.
Phasma turned back to DJ and moved forward again, ducking to avoid the chair DJ flung at her head, trying to buy her time to scramble to her weapon just out of reach by the desk. Phasma was bigger than her, and better armed, but she had one weakness to exploit, something that had flashed across her consciousness when their minds connected. Phasma's dark secret, her shame, seared into her mind.
"Did you tell Hux and Ren about the shields? You, the great warrior, a coward? So brave, so strong, the fuck you are." DJ moved slightly to the desk, watching for the impact of her words. "Did you tell them how your cowardice destroyed Starkiller Base? Does Kylo know just how pathetic you are? Would he want a weak woman like you at his side?" Phasma roared in fury, spinning the baton towards DJ, thrusting wildly. DJ ducked and dove for her weapon, only to find it knocked out of her hands as the tip of the baton hooked the muzzle and flung it into the wall by the door, too far for Hux to reach from where he lay.
Before DJ could react, Phasma lashed out again, using the baton this time as a spear, stabbing the blade into DJs side. Searing agony ripped through her as her legs buckled, dropping her into a heap against the desk. Phasma was about to deliver one final blow to finish her off when Hux's voice caught her attention.
"You dropped the shields? It was you that cost me the Base?" spat Hux, his breath coming in pants, pain etched on his face under a trail of blood. "I always knew I should have had you killed years ago when Cardinal begged me too. I thought you were worth keeping. Like a rapid animal. My father's little pet creature. He despised you of course, a savage from a backward system. Coward" The taunts hit their mark, pulling Phasma's attention to him and away from DJ as she clutched her side. She could only watch as Phasma raised the baton to strike him through, his only defence a thin blade he'd pulled from his sleeve, held out in front of him, a look of grim determination and hate on his face.
No, there was one chance.
Her blaster was out of reach of arms reach, and she didn't know if it would work but if she didn't try they were both dead.
Calling on the spirit of her father, a Guardian of the Whills, a prayer into the stars. Summoning all before her, calling the Force from inside her that connected her to all around her, she concentrated it all on the pistol by the wall. It twitched for a second before sliding back along the black floor and into her hands, unseen by Phasma.
Neck
He hasn't spoken, but she heard the word as a scream inside her mind as she pulled herself up onto her feet. Almost falling onto the Captain, clinging onto the armour before she could be shaken off, she ripped her helmet away from the black rubber neck piece. It was the only weak spot. Thrusting the small muzzle into the gap, onto the exposed neck, she fired. The sudden dead weight of the huge warrior almost pulled her off her feet as Phasma toppled to the floor, red seeping from between the silver plates of armour.
"Fucking hell" Standing unsteadily, agony flooded back. Eyes unfocused with pain she could see the blur of her hand, the palm red with blood pulsing from her side.
"Oh Fuck." she moaned, her legs crumbling beneath her as the light began to fade.
A distant voice calling her name, as arms caught her.
There was warmth, and there was that familiar smell again, of spice and wool and leather. Pain too, but distant now. And beyond and through it, something else surrounding her; love.
Fighting against the dark, on the edges of her memory, there was something important to say, but the words kept slipping away.
"Armitage, I didn't..." she whispered, but then they were gone, floating away into the night. She could feel the soft caress of hands in her hair, like when she was a child, soothing her to sleep. Someone calling her name; Her real name, not her silly made up one she'd used to hide behind after Terin. So long since anyone had called her that. But there was no hiding anymore, she was D'ara of Jedha. She felt safe, she was home.
D'ara smiled as the blackness took her.