One would have thought Emperor Palpatine had just arrived by observing the neatly formed columns of crew members in the hangar bay of the Apollyon. Several rows of deep, perfect lines filled both sides of a pathway leading to the dark, bird-like shape of the First Order's Ravage-class shuttle.
As he walked, Prolov gazed at the rows of TIE pilots, stormtroopers, scout troopers, Security personnel, officers, enlisted, and technicians. Before passing by each unit, he gave approving nods to each division commander to acknowledge the timely formations under their watch.
Nothing was out of place in the hangar bay. All equipment was stowed in adherence to Imperial standards and Prolov's specifications. From the smallest four-wheeled mouse variants to the human-like protocol models, the droids arranged themselves in neat lines along with their astromech counterparts. The black durasteel deck of the hangar bay had been painstakingly polished into a radiant sheen.
Behind Prolov, six stormtroopers in white armor trimmed in black and red markings followed Captains Aveen and Jorr. Prolov paused several meters in front of the shuttle's lowered ramp. With clock-like precision, eight First Order Stormtroopers marched down the ramp in two columns. When the last trooper reached the bottom of the ramp, they took up positions on both sides, turning in unison to face each other.
Prolov smiled, taking note of their perfectly symmetrical movements. Remarkable discipline, he thought while admiring the lines of First Order Stormtroopers. They are all products of a dedicated military leader.
He turned his attention to the top of the ramp to see a tall figure in freshly polished chromium armor peering down at him and the two captains. Prolov moved towards the ramp while keeping his eyes fixed on the imposing stormtrooper commander. Ah, the specter from my early years, he pondered while watching the figure regally descend to the deck level. Once just a vision in my mind, now a tangible form in the flesh.
He moved closer and gazed up at the much taller stormtrooper commander. "I am Admiral Garren Prolov. Welcome aboard the Imperial Star Destroyer Apollyon, Captain Phasma."
Phasma studied Prolov's young boyish features for a moment. A warm welcome in his famous Outer Rim accent, far removed from most Imperial officers' dialect. Accompanied by a friendly young face. Much different than the holograms I've studied in the Imperial Archives. How did one so apparently kind become the Butcher of the Outer Rim? She pressed the thought from her mind and replied, "Thank you for extending the courteous welcome to my troops and me. It is a pleasure to be in your presence, Admiral."
Prolov nodded with a smile. "The pleasure is all mine, Captain." He turned towards Aveen and Jorr. "Captain Phasma, may I introduce the commanders of the Apollyon and Corrin? Captain Aveen and Captain Jorr."
Beneath her helmet, Phasma offered a blank stare at the two subordinate officers. They both nodded, and she returned the gesture. Two men who will be quickly forgotten and swept away when I take my place by Prolov's side. As will any of these buffoons who defy my authority.
"We will begin our tour of the vessel," Prolov offered by gesturing towards the blast doors at the opposite end of the hangar. "This way, please, Captain."
Phasma observed the hangar from top to bottom while walking past the columns of men. She gazed up at a large black flag suspended from supports above the blast doors, outlined in red with the Imperial insignia surrounded by a corona's image as if it were a total solar eclipse. She read the words in basic beneath the image and silently raged at their meaning.
In brotherhood, we will rise? What kind of weakness is that? She pondered to herself. He cares for these men. These pathetic creatures are supposed to be nothing more than fodder for battle. Useless emotions weaken one's resolve. Perhaps history has misrepresented the man I came to immortalize.
Prolov glanced up at her. If only he could see her face and read her emotions. Something is troubling her. He thought as they walked. What could it be, however? Lies from the First Order, perhaps? If Hux is anything like his father, then deception should be expected. They have programmed her. That much is evident. But I also sense a soul who will go out of her way to accomplish her own goals. Perhaps, I could use that to my advantage.
As they drew closer to the blast doors, Phasma continued to study the lines of men. They passed from the columns of stormtroopers to the TIE Fighter pilots in uniforms trimmed in red. The pilot's helmets were black with red accents on the cheeks and the upper crest. A pair of gold mirror lenses fill out the menacing face of their helmets. The Imperial insignia on both sides of the upper portion was identical to the insignia on Prolov's battle flag.
A figure standing next to the pilots in a black Imperial Starfighter Corps Officer's uniform caught her eye. She focused on the man whose eyes stared blankly beneath an officer's hat. His pale face displayed an expression of sternness reinforced by his icy stare.
Colonel Tyaal Veriss. Commander of Admiral Prolov's TIE Fighter Wings and Director of the Fleet Intelligence Division. She thought to herself when her eyes met Veriss's gaze. A known and respected disciplinarian. Cold and calculating. An enigma requiring no mask for concealment. Despite a stellar service record, he has no known birth records before his adoption into House Veriss on Naboo. Rose to military prominence as a member and later Commander of the few non-clone fighter squadrons during the Clone Wars.
And then she turned her eyes to the hangar ceiling and paused. Arranged in a diamond-shaped pattern, four TIE Advanced x1's hung from pylons like silent guardians. The one taking up the lead position captured her interest the most. She read the lettering on the port wing pylon: Annalisa's Revenge.
For a moment, she became the young child reaching up to the creatures she once called gods. It was disappointing to finally realize that the creatures were mere machines piloted by mortal men. Beneath her helmet, her mouth stretched into a devilish grin. The mortal man who carried the pain of his lost love into battle and emblazoned it on his war machine would be just another pawn in her game.
I'll see to it that ship carries my name, she thought. After I press him into humble submission. It now honors the woman he once loved, but it will soon come to honor me after I have purged him of all bonds to a weakened fool who lowered herself to become his wife. I will rise above you, Annalisa Prolov. And when I do, I will be greater than you.
"In case you are wondering, those are TIE Advanced x1's, heavily modified, of course," Prolov said gently, bringing Phasma out of her thoughts.
She looked down at Prolov. "If memory serves me correctly, I believe they were used in the assault on Zyria Prime."
"I see you have been diligent in your studies of Imperial history," Prolov smiled before directing Phasma's attention back to the fighters. "There are thirty-two in all. Four are assigned to each star destroyer in the fleet. They have upgraded guidance and sensor systems. All have upgraded blaster cannons along with an array of advanced weaponry. And they are also equipped with shield generators and a hyperdrive as well. The assault on Zyria Prime was the first battle for Phantom Squadron. Colonel Veriss and I led the attack in Phantoms One and Two. The rest of the fighters were automated. It took two standard years to install all the upgrades, including the AI fully."
"They are automated?" Phasma asked in a puzzled tone.
"All thirty-two fighters in Phantom Squadron have their unique artificial intelligence. The AI in each fighter can fly the craft and man the weapons better than most human pilots can." Prolov replied as he turned his gaze back to Phasma. "It prevents endangering human pilots unnecessarily and allows for extractions of key personnel from combat zones. You see, Phantom Squadron is designated as a multipurpose squadron."
Your empathy for these weaklings under your command will be your undoing, Admiral, Phasma silently stated to herself. And you will be easy to control once I have you within my grasp. "They look like formidable weapons, Admiral." Captain Phasma said, pulling her attention away from her thoughts.
Prolov nodded as he gazed up at the ships. "That they are, Captain. Perhaps someday I can give you a demonstration of their capabilities. Maybe even take you on a flight in one."
"Interesting proposition that I will have to consider for another time, Admiral," she replied, turning away from the fighters and focusing on Prolov. "Your devotion to developing such a squadron reveals much about you. A true leader, such as yourself, always thinks ahead and focuses on the grand scheme of things. I have learned as much in my endeavors."
Excellent response. But you are concealing something from me. What is it you hide behind that mask, Captain? Prolov pondered silently. He remained motionless for a few seconds while studying Phasma. He wished he could peer through her eyes and look deep into her soul. A person's eyes were a portal to the inner being and revealed their true self. Perhaps that's why she chose to remain hidden behind the shimmering armor.
He broke his concentration and motioned towards the blast doors, which opened with a whoosh almost instantly. "Captain, shall we begin the tour? We'll start on the bridge and move on from there."
Phasma nodded. "Please, lead the way, Admiral."
General Hux fought a furious battle within himself to keep his composure. He looked around nervously at the crew on the bridge of the Finalizer. Everyone appeared focused on their duty stations while completing their assigned tasks.
He pulled a black handkerchief from his uniform pocket and wiped his sweaty forehead dry. As he quickly put it away, a white splotch caught his eye. He glanced toward the splotch and noticed a stormtrooper standing at attention, watching his movements.
She probably had her eyes on me the whole time. Hux thought as he stared at the trooper known as FN-2734. She was a Lieutenant and Phasma's second-in-command who had assumed Phasma's position on the bridge while the Captain was away on her mission to rendezvous with Prolov. She will most likely inform Phasma of my supposed moment of weakness. Ah, to hell with both of them.
Hux shook the thoughts from his mind and spun around to face the communications station. "Try to raise Captain Evin again. I need a status report from him."
The dark-haired young woman glanced at the display before her and pressed a control. "This is Finalizer to Oppressor with a priority message from General Hux to Captain Evin. Please respond." A few moments of silence passed by. The officer adjusted the display and her frequency before trying again. "This Finalizer to Oppressor. I have a priority message from General Hux to Captain Evin. Please respond."
Another few moments of silence filled the bridge. Hux exhaled and stared out of the viewport towards the Apollyon and Corrin. He offered a sneer at the pair of Imperial Star Destroyers as he thought, Prolov if you are jamming my transmission out of fear of betrayal, I'll have to take drastic measures against you. It is no way to treat a host, you Imperial bastard.
The hologram of the young Commander Spaal, executive officer of the Oppressor, suddenly appeared on the bridge. "General Hux, I apologize for my delayed response, sir. An important matter of business demanded my attention."
Hux grimaced at the Spaal's hologram. "Why are you responding instead of Captain Evin? I demand to speak to your commanding officer at once!"
Spaal narrowed her eyes. "I'm afraid that will not be possible, sir."
Hux cursed under his breath and stared at Spaal coldly. "Are you disobeying a direct order, Commander?"
Spaal remained in a rigid posture and kept her gaze on Hux. "No, sir. I'm afraid Captain Evin will not be able to meet with you now."
"Why is that, Commander?" Hux blasted in an angry tone. "I ordered him to report to me when he fulfilled his duty!"
Spaal drew in a breath and continued to stare at Hux. "He will be soaking in a bacta tank for two days, sir."
Hux gasped at the revelation. "In a bacta tank for the next two days? What happened to him?"
Spaal's face almost broke into a grin. "He suffered an unfortunate accident during his HoloNet transmission with Supreme Leader Snoke."
Hux's heart just about burst from his chest upon hearing her reply. Snoke contacted him? Hux asked himself silently. This can't be happening.
He looked up at Spaal and nodded. "Thank you, Commander. That is all." Captain Peavey walked up to Hux as her hologram vanished and gazed at him. Hux took notice and stood up straight. "Not to worry. Supreme Leader Snoke and I have a thorough understanding of one another."
"I believe you do, sir," Peavey replied before focusing on the stars.
A chime rang out on the bridge at the communications station. An officer pressed her earpiece close to her ear and looked up at Hux with a shocked expression. "Sir, Supreme Leader Snoke has ordered you to contact him."
"Thank you, Ensign," Hux replied with a sheepish grin. "I will do so in my private holochamber."
"Sir, he demands a meeting with you in person on the Supremacy," the ensign said.
Hux exhaled sharply and turned to Captain Peavey. "Prepare my ship. You have command of the Finalizer while I am away."
Peavey watched Hux step off the bridge. When the General was out of earshot, Peavey turned to a young officer to his left. "Lieutenant, prepare a bacta tank just in case."