The settlement turned out to be a bustling city. Contrasting with the grassy fields surrounding it, the sprawling town was gray metal and concrete. Tall buildings stretched into the blue sky overhead, casting shadows across the busy streets below. I had never been to such a developed planet that actively shunned intergalactic trade. If they were this independent and successful, they had some significant natural resources.
Cargo ships and personal speeders zoomed across the crowded skyline of the city, making our entrance seamless. The pilot of the transport adjusted our heading based on the coordinates provided by the First Order spies. We weaved through tall buildings like asteroids in space. The fast maneuvers, paired with the planet's gravitational pull, made me a bit nauseated.
A light flashed on the pilot's console. Without taking his eyes off of his controls, he said, "Ma'am, it's a transmission from the spies."
"Put them through," I said, leaning forward in the co-pilot's seat. The red light turned green when he opened the com. "Recon, this is Phasma. What is your status?"
"Captain, this is Recon-1 and -2. Target is still in sight."
"Excellent," I said, nearly grinning. "How many contacts?"
"A group of four, ma'am. We tracked them to this local establishment. After speaking with the native owner, we confirmed that they are members of the Resistance."
My mind began to formulate a plan. Being on such a secluded planet meant that there was no chance for subtlety. It's possible that the natives have never seen a Stormtrooper in person before. Brute force or intimidation seemed to be the only options with our current resources.
After such a long pause, the spy continued his report. "The coordinates we sent lead to the roof of the establishment, where our transport is located."
I glanced at the navigation panel in front of the pilot. "We'll be there in five, Recon. I want to meet this owner. Bring him to the roof when we arrive."
The building was indistinguishable from the dozens of others surrounding it. As I stepped down the ramp, blaster in hand, I felt a trickle of fear enter my mind. While the natives were seemingly passive, first contact with any species was often a dangerous task. My mind flashed back to the times when my father returned from diplomatic trips with near-fatal wounds.
The rooftop was mostly bare save for valves spewing some kind of pollutant into the air. A metal door clattered open across the roof, drawing my attention. An alien emerged, his bulging eyes and scaly skin reminiscent of a fish. His posture was timid and fearful—a sharp contrast to the lone First Order spy who escorted him towards me. I met them halfway across the roof.
"Captain," the spy greeted, pulling the colorful scarf away from his face. His keen eyes fixed on the cowering alien beside him. "This is Da'far."
Da'far's clothes matched the vibrant colors of the spy's outfit. His large, yellow eyes studied my entourage and me cautiously. Before I had the chance to ask if he spoke Basic, he sputtered, "Have you come here to kill us as they say?"
Lifting my blaster rifle above my head, I secured it to the magnetic plate on my back. I motioned for my Troopers to do the same. "No," I replied, fixing my gaze on Da'far. "We came here in pursuit of our enemies. We mean you no harm."
He took a cautious step back. "They told me not to trust you," he said lowly.
Of course. "Da'far," I began pleasantly, stepping closer with each sentence. "This is the beginning of the First Order's campaign in the Mid Rim. From here, we will take the Colonies, and then the Core Worlds. Our victory is inevitable." I stuck my finger into the alien's chest, prompting a fearful gasp. "I suggest you pick the right side—sooner, rather than later."
"R—Right," he stuttered as I removed my hand. "S—So...what do you want?"
I straightened with a small smirk of victory.
Sealing off all the entrances and exits took only a few minutes. Da'far's bar took up the top three floors of the building, so sealing off the speed lifts was essential. When Da'far signaled that all the doors were secured, we exited the roof in a small group and barricaded the door behind us.
As we descended the stairs into the loud establishment, the unit leader behind me voiced his concern. "What if we can't trust him, Captain?" he asked.
I jolted at the thought; it hadn't occurred to me. We could be walking into a Resistance trap. "Then he will face the consequences," I replied, grateful that the voice changer filtered out the unease from my voice.
The music in the bar was so loud that it rumbled in my chest. From the main area, all three levels were visible with wrap-around balconies for each. Natives filled each floor nearly shoulder to shoulder—some dancing, some eating at tables, and some just talking with colorful drinks in their scaly hands. The homogenous crowd parted as we marched through; they cowered away from us fearfully. Word quickly spread throughout the bar, causing panic to ripple out around us. The unit leader's call for order only exacerbated the unrest.
As we approached the masked spy, he stood from his table to meet us. A quick sweep of the dining area revealed no humans in sight. I returned my gaze to the spy. "Where are they?"
"Ma'am," the spy greeted, pulling down his face covering. "When the crowd started panicking, I lost sight of them. I'm sorry."
Gritting my teeth, I gestured to the Troopers behind me. "Question the natives in this area. Someone knows where they're hiding."
I continued to scan the area while my men spread out to search. My hands balled into fists at my sides. Did I put my team in needless danger? The lingering glances from the natives were fearful, however—not hateful. Perhaps not. After a few moments, Da'far emerged from the crowd with a nervous look in his eyes.
"If you're hiding them, you will pay," I warned him. I practically had to yell above the volume of the music.
The alien put his hands up in surprise. "I swear on Gem'oira, I am not," he blubbered. "You will find them! You will."
I narrowed my eyes on him; his face was difficult to read with his inhuman features.
One by one, my men reported back with no leads. While the locals appeared to be fearful of us, they were certainly not friendly enough to provide us with information. Da'far's horrified expression only grew with each Trooper's report. I rested my hand on the sidearm at my hip. I won't lose control of the situation.
I glared at the innkeeper from behind my mask. "Tell them to turn the music off. And come with me," I ordered.
The roar of the tipsy patrons quickly died after the music suddenly stopped. As I stepped out into the center of the lowest level, I felt hundreds of eyes on me. The musicians slowly backed off of the stage, leaving me and Da'far alone in the center. My armor glowed in the dim light, reflecting the dim neon colors surrounding me. Pulling up the holographic display inside my helmet, I boosted the volume to maximum.
"There is a group of humans hiding among you," I said, my voice booming against every metal corner. It was deathly silent, with only Da'far's worried breathing behind me. "You must turn them over to the First Order. Now."
There was no response from the crowd. Aliens lined the twin balconies above me, looking down with rapt attention. It was impossible for humans to go undetected in such a place. They are hiding them.
Pulling my sidearm, I held it to Da'far's head. I seized his purple collar when he tried to shrink away and pressed the muzzle of my blaster into his forehead. The crowd gasped in surprise, murmurs and cries echoing throughout the bar. The hydraulics in my suit moaned as the alien thrashed in my grip, and I lifted him off the ground to keep him steady. His fish-like face contorted in a bizarre fashion.
"Reveal them to us, or he dies!" I thundered, hoping on every star that my bluff would pay off. It didn't take long.
"The Resistance is here!"
"Here!"
"They're over here!"
Looking towards the west end of the second balcony, I saw a group of waving arms. I jerked my head towards the unit leader to take action. Instantly, a group of Stormtroopers marched up the stairs towards the commotion.
I released Da'far with a wave of guilt crashing into me. Holstering my blaster, I gave the sputtering alien a brief nod. "Thanks," I said.
A burst of blaster fire filled my ears as I climbed the stairs swiftly. As I approached, the Stormtroopers were arranging the four prisoners in a line and kicking their surrendered blasters across the floor. With no other option than to obey, the Resistance fighters pinned their hands to the back of their heads. I saw an opportunity to make an example out of them, and I took it.
"People, hear me!" I called to the natives, pointing to the wounded. "This is the Resistance. Chaotic, cowardly, destructive! The First Order will bring peace and order to the Galaxy. We want you to have lives free of fear and chaos!"
Hushed voices filled the quiet space as the Resistance fighters looked on nervously. I turned to my Troopers who were watching with bated breath, awaiting my instructions.
"Execute them," I said.
I looked away as they carried out the order.
With one final handshake, Da'far and I parted ways on the rooftop. He and his people had a newfound respect for the First Order that would not fade anytime soon. When the time came, this world would easily fall into line.
As the transports were prepared, I commed Kylo. "Supreme Leader, the Resistance moles have been eliminated," I reported.
"Excellent," he replied, sounding pleased. "Any casualties?"
"Just injuries. We used...aggressive negotiations."
I heard a muffled chuckle behind me.
"Good work, Captain," he said. "We are halfway through the blast door. Return to the command shuttle immediately."
I glanced at the two injured men by the transport, one of whom was the Trooper's commanding officer. "We have injured. I'll return to Supremacy with them and bring back a fresh unit," I said. When he didn't respond, I added, "Sir?"
"Very well," he finally said, and the com closed.
I boarded the second transport after the injured were aboard. Our exit from the atmosphere was smoother than on the command shuttle. As the blue sky faded to inky black, I felt my nerves from the mission fade away. Stars began appearing one by one.
"...like someone didn't close the panel properly."
Distracted by the conversation behind me, I looked back. A couple of Troopers fiddled with a dented panel behind the seating area, near the airlock. I stepped down the aisle, drawing the glances of the seated Troopers around me.
"What's wrong?" I asked.
The Troopers looked up at my voice. "Sorry we're out of our seats, Captain," said one of them. "We just noticed this panel was out of place."
"There are live wires behind it," the other one added, trying to back up his friend.
"We'll secure it once we dock with Supremacy. Return to your seats."
"Yes, Captain."
As he released the panel, it fell away to reveal an odd device. It was comprised of tubes and wires and emitted a flashing light that suddenly became faster. Is that a...?
"Bomb!" I yelled.
A burst of fire ignited before my eyes, and a gaping hole appeared in the hull. I was swept off my feet and sucked out into the vacuum of space.
Suddenly, the only sound in my world was my own panicked breathing.
A large shard of the transport's hull flew by me, causing me to scream in fear. I looked back at the transport; the debris had already spread into an unrecognizable mess. Frozen bodies of Stormtroopers, either intact or in pieces, floated among the wreckage. Within seconds, I was out of visual range and accelerating rapidly.
I reached out for anything to hold onto as I spun faster and faster out of control. My field of view alternated between the planet's green surface and an infinite canvas of stars. Ignoring the intense pain on my left side, I desperately kicked and strained in an attempt to stabilize myself. Without EVA thrusters, it was virtually impossible.
Supremacy was a tiny white dot on my violent horizon.
No one's going to find me out here.
I drew in a deep breath to think, Lucy, think. According to my heads-up display, my environmental controls were stable and my oxygen tank was a quarter full. Call for help. The armor around my communicator was melted and charred. I pressed the com button repeatedly to no avail. Red words then appeared before my eyes.
"Oxygen Level Critical—5%"
My stomach dropped in terror. As I watched the number tick down to zero, I started to hyperventilate. My entire life—all my regrets and all my mistakes—began to reel through my mind.
I haven't seen my dad in years.
I've never told Kylo that I love him.
My pain started to fade away, replaced by chilly numbness. The edges of my vision began to narrow as I gasped in my final breaths of oxygen. Then darkness overtook my sight.
