His helmet was pristine white. FN-2187 hesitated a moment before putting it over his head. He rattled with anticipation. Fear, almost.
He could hear the rest of his squad talking. Slip sounded the most thrilled, and FN-2187 tried to focus on that enthusiasm, hoping it would ground him and infect him.
It didn't. In fact, he felt worse. Now FN-2187 remembered other times Slip had been confident, only to fail miserably and draw Phasma's attention. He thought of his responsibility as their leader, even if none of them thought they needed him.
He grit his teeth.
It was just nerves.
Written for AceQueenKing.