"Charge the enemy!" Phasma shouted to her remaining troops.

She secured her blaster on her right side and pulled a cylindrical object from her belt. The object extended into a long spear with razor-sharp points on both ends. With a twist of her hand, a pair of curved barbs appeared at the upper end of the weapon.

A growl rumbled beneath her helmet as she charged out of the creek bed like a voracious predator. The enemy stood dazed by the dust and debris, fumbling with their blasters that had been rendered useless. A man closest to the creek bed removed his energy pack. His eyes filled with a flash of chrome before the barbed end of Phasma's spear tore through his throat. Before he could fall, she ripped the spear out and drove it through his left eye.

Another soldier charged her from the left. She thrust the spear with such force that it shattered his sternum and pierced his heart. She struck down several more soldiers as she charged forward. Powered by both fury and a well-conditioned body, she sliced at the neck of a man on the right with the spear, nearly decapitating him. Around her, stormtroopers followed their Captain's lead as they struck down men using disabled blasters as batons.

Suddenly, she stumbled forward under the weight of an enemy soldier who jumped on her back. She flailed around wildly, trying to throw him to the ground. She felt her helmet twist and realized he was trying to unmask her. She reached up, grabbed his head with both hands and snapped his neck.

Phasma took a glance around at the men lying dead. A familiar sight gave her pause. Every corpse visible lay next to an F-11 blaster. What the hell, she thought. These men are the conscripts Jerek recruited. What is going on here?

"Captain, the enemy front line is falling back!" FN-2734 shouted while turning her blood-covered helmet in Phasma's direction. "Shall we pursue them?"

"Yes," Phasma exclaimed. "Wipe out every single one of them!"

A disabled blaster slammed against the right side of her helmet. She staggered backward before drawing in a breath and steadying herself. She thrust her spear to her right and ran the barbed end straight into a man's crotch. He screamed and grasped the spear just before Phasma pulled it from the wound. The man fell to his knees. Phasma reached down and picked up the broken blaster. She brought it downward with tremendous force and drove it through the top of the man's skull.

In the distance, explosions echoed like a fierce storm. The Empire is bombing the outer flanks, Phasma thought. Someone set this up, and I will kill them when I learn their identity.

A trio of TIE Advanced passed overhead. Phasma glanced up at them and smiled beneath her helmet. Prolov led his forces well, and she had the utmost respect for a commander who chose to participate in a battle. He was much different from the arrogant General Hux, who preferred to remain on his ship well out of harm's way.

A scuffle in front of her drew her attention. FN-2734 grappled with a pair of men physically larger than the First Order lieutenant. Phasma charged up to the one closest to her and thrust her spear into the base of his skull. With the weapon deeply embedded in the man's brain, Phasma used it as a fulcrum to pull the convulsing man away from FN-2734. The lieutenant stepped to her opponent's side and slammed her right foot upon the man's knee. She grabbed his head and quickly snapped his neck.

The whines of ion engines filled the air just before a strong wind raced past Phasma and her surviving troops. She listened intently and noticed a difference in the sounds of the engines. She glanced up in the sky and watched an Imperial Lambda-class shuttle descend from the darkened sky. In the distance, four Imperial troop carriers landed. Several squads of stormtroopers streamed down the lowered ramps like ants furiously defending their nest and began firing automatic bursts from their blasters at the retreating enemy.

Phasma stared up at the top of the shuttle's passenger ramp. Admiral Prolov stepped from the interior and surveyed the battlefield. Phasma's heart filled with disdain at the sight of the Admiral, whose historical records portrayed a military commander participating in battles. But now, seeing that Prolov allowed his men to do the dirty work for him flustered her like a faithful and dedicated employee expecting a promotion only to be passed over in favor of a lesser co-worker.

What? Why is this weakling worthy of my adoration? She asked herself silently. I expected much more from a man of his stature. How dare he disappoint me?

Prolov gestured towards Phasma. "Captain, your men will be accommodated aboard my troop carriers. I would like for you to accompany me on the shuttle. We have much to discuss."

Phasma took quick steps towards Prolov. Her breaths came in furious heaves as she moved. "What is the meaning of this, Admiral?"

Prolov shrugged. "It's an extraction. What else did you expect? You will not receive as much from Hux."

"I don't need your charity, Admiral," Phasma huffed as she paused before Prolov. "I prefer to leave this planet with my men, not you."

Prolov snickered at the sight of his troop carriers lifting off the ground. "It's too late for that, Captain. And unless you plan on sprouting wings out of that shiny armor of yours, I suggest you take a seat on the shuttle."

Phasma stormed past Prolov and moved into the interior. The Admiral followed her. She sat abruptly along the central aisle. Prolov pressed a control to raise and secure the ramp. He then moved towards Phasma.

Phasma looked up at him and clenched her fists. "Don't even think of sitting next to me."

Prolov took a seat across from Phasma. "I wasn't planning on it. I wouldn't want your ungratefulness rubbing off on me." He sat back in his chair and glared at Phasma. "Let's get something straight. You are on my ship, and I have the authority here. You, Captain, are just a guest and are under that same authority until you return to the Finalizer. As long as we maintain that understanding, we will have no issues at all."

Why do you expect me to so quickly submit to you? Phasma thought. You pulled me from battle through the most contrived extraction, and you think you can show up to trample over my dignity?

"I take your silence as agreement," Prolov said while resting his hands on his thighs.

Phasma huffed. "Never underestimate me, Admiral. And never mistake my silence for agreement."

Prolov leaned forward in his seat. "Let's dispense with the façade. You are making quite a scene, and it is a cheap one at that. What is truly on your mind, Phasma? Please tell me."

"Did you see the enemy we fought against down there?" she asked, pausing momentarily. "They were conscripts brought into the First Order by Commander Jerek. Their F-11D blasters and tan fatigues gave them away."

Prolov pursed his lips. There is that name again. he thought. Just how does he fit into this? The men we captured when we first arrived in this timeline also mentioned him. Prolov turned his attention back to Phasma. "You recognized them, but you continued to wage war on men that were, by your admission, allies? What are you not telling me, Captain?"

"Perhaps the information you seek is classified," Phasma replied coldly. "And if you were to join the First Order formally, then certain arrangements could be made to declassify it."

Prolov exhaled and shook his head. "Defiance will profit you nothing, especially from me." It is Time to reveal the truth to her. He said to himself mentally. Here comes the first salvo against that hardened shell of hers. "Simply telling me the truth shall suffice. For now."

Beneath Phasma's helmet, her eyes narrowed. She bore into Prolov with a stare that could pierce a soul like a spear driven through an enemy's flesh. How dare you challenge me, she thought. No one ever wins in that game. She drew in a breath before speaking. "Hux authorized Jerek to bring them in as conscripts over a year before you arrived. I was not invited to attend the meeting between Jerek, Hux, and the First Order High Command."

Prolov relaxed his posture and lightly tapped his hand on the armrest of his chair. "What does the First Order want with men well beyond the conscription age? Hux's father, Brendol, conscripted children into his training corps. And if First Order inherited Brendol's vision, as I have suspected, then it does not make sense to recruit adults."

Phasma sat back in her seat. "There are plenty of exceptions to Brendol's philosophy."

Prolov pursed his lips. "And you are one of them."

Phasma's jaw dropped at Prolov's statement. "How do you know that?"

I must have struck a nerve, he said to himself silently. She is caught off guard and vulnerable. A grin stretched across his face. "Call it a lucky guess if you so desire."

"A lucky guess, Admiral? I would expect much more from a man whom history knows as calculating and observant."

"Perhaps history is wrong about me, Captain. Historical archives can be either an accurate portrayal or fictional prose. Both demand a gifted author."

"Time will tell, Admiral."

Phasma remained as still and rigid as a statue. She controlled her breathing to avoid giving any signals that Prolov could use against her. She thought, He still had no explanation for why he went against his protocol. Some would play that off as arrogance or petulance. Yet, he is above those foolish attributes.

Prolov studied her as well. Her rigidness was just as much of a mask as her helmet. She was following the orders of her superiors not because she must but rather because she desired to for her gain. She bears that armor out of necessity and obtains the provisions she needs through her service. The First Order is the hand that feeds her and gives her a place to lay her head. Thought such a soul can be swayed to stand for another cause.

"Sir, Captain Aveen is requesting to speak to you," the shuttle pilot's voice said through Prolov's comlink.

"Send it through," Prolov replied. He pulled a circular holoprojector from his pocket and glanced at Phasma. "Please excuse me for a moment, Captain." He pressed a control, and the image of Captain Aveen appeared.

"Sir, a Corellian CR90 corvette dropped out of hyperspace just on the far side of the moon as we engaged the enemy. It subsequently took evasive action and left the system", Aveen said. "Before it fled, I dispatched four fighters from Phantom Squadron to pursue it. As soon as they report its destination coordinates, I will take further action per your instructions."

Prolov smiled. "Good work, Captain Aveen. You know what to do. Carry on."

Phasma intently watched the interaction between Prolov and his subordinate. He conducts his military endeavors with his men without attempting to conceal information that should be kept confidential in the presence of an officer who is not under his command. Interesting tactic. But why put on such a show?

Prolov leaned forward after sliding the projector into his pocket and thought, Time to lay another card on the table. "Before the curiosity proves to be the demise of the loth cat, Captain, please allow me to enlighten you. Our initial contact with the First Order came when we intercepted a shuttle with two officers accompanied by five stormtroopers. During interrogation, the commanding officer informed me that Commander Jerek had ordered him to investigate our appearance."

Another test of my resolve, Phasma reasoned silently. "A strange concurrence. Commander Jerek is not assigned to the Endor sector. Why would he be involved in investigating your fleet's appearance?"

A genuine response. Jerek's actions are possibly independent of First Order Command, Prolov thought while analyzing Phasma's words and body language. I will test that hypothesis with a slight change of subject. "I ordered my technology officer to examine their navigational logs. They discovered the ship had set course from Jakku." Prolov replied. "I find it rather peculiar that Hux selected Jakku for our rendezvous. There must be a connection."

Prolov's statement brought a smile to Phasma's face while thoughts swirled in her mind like a voracious whirlpool. Ah, he has a disdain for Hux, as do I. I could ally with Prolov and gain more leverage against the General. "Are you suggesting Hux led us both into a trap at Geneel?"

Us? She speaks as if we are suddenly united against a common cause, Prolov pondered silently. My assessment of the tension between Phasma and Hux was accurate. "I am suggesting nothing, Captain," Prolov replied. "I deduced that you were ordered to Geneel to capture me. That is why I moved my fleet to the neighboring star system and waited on Hux to make the initial move."

"What inspired your response?", Phasma asked while relaxing in her seat. "Did we give ourselves away so easily?"

Prolov shrugged. "No, decades of military experience have taught me the benefits of erring on the side of sensibility." Time to toss another dagger at her, he thought before casting a sharp gaze at Phasma. "I advise you not to mistake that attribute for weakness, Captain."

Well played, Admiral, Phasma countered silently. She nodded and crossed her arms. "And why would I do that, Admiral? Am I not here as your liaison? How can we reach any agreement if we neglect to establish trust?"

Aptly spoken, Prolov analyzed mentally. But did those words flow through the lips of an ally? Or did they roll off the forked tongue of a predator? Prolov suppressed his thoughts and offered a soft grin. "I will judge whether or not we reach that conclusion accordingly."

"Please pardon the interruption, Admiral," the pilot's voice said through Prolov's comlink. "Captain Aveen advises that General Hux is sending shuttles to rendezvous with the Apollyon."

So typical…and predictable, Prolov thought as he shook his head. "When are they anticipated to arrive?"

"Within the hour, sir," the pilot replied.

"Thank you, Lieutenant," Prolov said. "Carry on." He looked over to Phasma and exhaled. "This is rather peculiar." Or premeditated behind the scenes, he thought. "What say you, Captain?"

Phasma sat motionlessly. Why are you so hellbent on changing the game's rules, Hux? She pondered silently. "Peculiar indeed, Admiral."

A ray of sunlight filtered through a small viewport on the ship's bulkhead. It reflected off Phasma's armor and cast a brilliant glimmer of silver light upon the empty seats next to Prolov. And suddenly, the light dimmed as fast as a star eclipsed by a moon. Prolov leaned forward and glanced out of the viewport. The wedge shape of the Apollyon filled the viewport.

"Looks like we are almost home," Prolov said while leaning back in his seat.

The rest of the flight to the Apollyon's hangar bay was uneventful. Prolov and Phasma remained silent while awaiting the shuttle to complete the landing procedure. As the ramp lowered, Prolov gestured for Phasma to step off first. He followed her down the ramp and motioned towards the blast doors.

"Captain, please follow me to the bridge," he said as they walked into the corridor. "I have something I would like to show you."

The curious pairing of an Imperial Admiral and a much taller First Order Stormtrooper Captain adorned in her chromium armor splattered with blood and dust drew bewildered glances from the crewmembers in the corridors. Prolov and Phasma paid them no mind in passing by them.

As soon as they stepped on the bridge, Captain Aveen approached them. "Sir, First Order shuttles have dropped out of hyperspace. According to their preliminary communication, they are only to retrieve Captain Phasma's troops."

Prolov furrowed his brow. "What about the Captain? Is there not room for her aboard the shuttles?"

Aveen took a short but nervous gaze at Phasma before turning his eyes to Prolov. "General Hux sent a communique before their arrival ordering her to remain with us for the time being, sir."

Prolov nodded before turning towards the main viewports. "Very well, then."

Phasma stepped up next to Prolov. "Why are you not surprised by the news, Admiral?"

Prolov chuckled and gazed out of the viewports. "You and Hux have underestimated me. Perhaps I need to explain myself to you." He looked over his shoulder to Aveen. "Captain, if the fleet is in position, you may proceed."

Aveen bowed and turned towards the weapons station. "All commands, target the base. Launch dilarium charges."

Three bright yellow balls of light launched from all eight vessels towards the old Imperial base within seconds. Prolov watched as the charges descended towards the surface, streaking towards the already burning structures of the base.

The first charges slammed into the outer boundaries, detonating in a brilliant flash, sending a shock wave racing outward. Vast debris and dust clouds rolled out from the explosion like waves breaking on a shoreline. Structures crumbled like straw houses in the fury of a mighty windstorm. The central portions of the base were enveloped in similar explosions sweeping across the administration buildings of the base, knocking them flat like an invisible hand cutting through a house of cards.

As the final charges found their mark, the shattered remains of the base smoldered in a yellowish blaze for a few minutes before a massive explosion as brilliant as the sun flowed through the viewports of the Apollyon.

The entire base lifted into the air like an aircraft taking off before shattering like the shell of an egg violently tossed on the ground. A shock wave swept rapidly from the detonation for at least thirty kilometers in every direction. The ground beneath the base crumbled and quaked under the force of the explosion. It caved in, leaving an expansive crater where the Imperial base once stood.

The debris burned furiously in a cloud of dust, blasting several kilometers into the atmosphere. Prolov smiled, relishing the First Order's desire to witness his firepower had been fulfilled. Will this be a deterrent or a challenge for them to test me again? He silently pondered. For the sake of us all, I hope for the former rather than the latter.

He cast a firm stare at Phasma. "Do we have an understanding now, Captain?"

Phasma refrained from responding while she watched the spectacle. Instantly, she was taken back to the day she had been brought aboard the Absolution by Brendol Hux. The elder Hux had put on a similar show of strength to prove his formidability to her. But Hux's message that day was of arrogant pride and a veiled threat.

Today was different. Prolov had sealed a message in a bottle before tossing it in the churning seas of contention. But she realized the message wasn't addressed to her. It was a sign to Hux warning of the dangers of crossing a man like Prolov.

Phasma looked down at Prolov. "Indeed, we do, Admiral."

Prolov's emotionless face morphed into the mask of a brilliant smile. "Good." He motioned towards the corridor leading away from the bridge. "Let's get you to your quarters."