Someone wrote in [community profile] tfa_kink 2016-01-31 11:00 pm (UTC)

Fill: Just the Best Party 2/?

It takes Hux a few seconds to recognize the tall, blonde figure striding towards him. Phasma out of armor is still a formidable sight in her tank top and old-fashioned suspenders. She's twirling a hideously large, thick stick with spikes and knobs set at random angles. Hux wouldn't want to get on the wrong side of that.

Phasma throws him a salute. "General."

"Captain." Hux stops to return the salute. "I admire the way you've taken control of your troops."

"Merely carrying out your orders, General."

"I admit that when I said 'Smoke 'em if you got 'em,' I wasn't imagining total anarchy. I thought, perhaps, a slight relaxation of disciplinary standards--"

"With all due respect, these are the most finely trained Stormtroopers in the Order. They don't do things halfway."

"True," Hux acknowledges. He eyes the stick. "That's certainly not a regulation weapon."

"Jaleen mining winkle. It was my mother's."

"She must have been a formidable woman."

"She was." They walk in silence for a few moments before Phasma says, "General, I will take full responsibility."

"Excuse me?" Hux says. "For what?"

"The destruction of Starkiller Base." It comes out in a rush, as though Phasma has been holding back the words. "I lowered the shields. I failed to hold my own against a smuggler, a Wookiee, and that traitor. I assumed that my troops would take care of the situation. I was wrong. It's I who should be punished, not my troops. Not you."

Hux considers this approach. It's tempting to shove responsibility off onto Phasma, who looks more than ready to take it on. "That's commendable, Captain. But I don't believe such distinctions will make a difference to Snoke."

"We are as ants to him," Phasma mutters. Hux can't find it in himself to disagree.

Suddenly Phasma starts running. "Troopers!" she barks. Hux hurries after her, curious and a little confused. Phasma has always been able to detect trouble among her troops long before anyone else can, but he supposes that's what comes of being a good captain.

Around a curve in the corridor, there's a nasty scene. A burly trooper is lifting a petite blond girl in the air, laughing. She's kicking and screaming, struggling hard, but he's clearly no match for her.

"BD-1823, stand down!" Phasma barks. "This is not how we treat our comrades!"

"She's not my comrade anymore!" The burly man laughs. A moment later, his legs are gone.

Hux admires Phasma's swing. As a child in the Academy, he was taught that the first rule of swordplay was to conserve energy, to use the arms alone except when turning. Phasma was clearly taught differently. She puts the strength of her torso and legs into the swing, following through with such violence that the Jaleen mining winkle rips through BD-1823's knees like a fork through a rare bantha steak.

The petite blond girl tumbles to the floor, landing on her hands and knees. Phasma leans down and takes the girl's hand, helping her up. Hux doesn't miss the way the blonde girl gapes at Phasma, the look of awe in her face.

"Thank you, Captain," the girl whispers.

"Yes, of course. At ease." Phasma shoulders the winkle. "Are you all right, ND-1240?"

"It's...it's Nadya, if you don't mind." The blonde girl smiles. Her mouth is attractively twisted. "I've always wanted to tell you what an inspiration you are to all of us females, Captain..."

Hux smells romance blossoming and takes his leave.

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