Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Commander Poe Dameron had been waiting a long time to meet his soulmate, but he didn't have much chance of that while the smudge of ink on his wrist stayed blurry. It was supposed to resolve into a name and give him a way to find his soulmate, the person who was supposed to be his. Heck, some people were even born with a name already there and never had to deal with the uncertainty of a smudge, but for Poe, well, it seemed like luck wasn't on his side.

He later found that there were hundreds, thousands, maybe even millions of people out in the galaxy just like him, people whose soulmark had remained an illegible smudge on their wrist. They found each other, wherever they went, and bonded over their shared longing, shared uncertainty. Poe often wondered if the need to fill in that gap in his life drove him to sign up for the Resistance – to defend the Republic, sure, but also seeking that missing connection with others. He'd noticed there were quite a few other Smudges in the Resistance forces, at a much high frequency than in the normal population

None of them had ever seemed to figure out why they didn't have names there like other people did, so the only thing they could do was just support each other and wait and hope. They looked out for each other, because they understood what it was like to be forced to wait. Never knowing if there really was someone out there for them.

Then one day Poe was captured by the First Order, and in his escape he met Finn, a storm trooper who never had a name before Dameron gave him one. Afterwards, when the dust and blood had been washed off and Poe changed into his sleepwear, he looked down at his wrist in shock to find that the mark on his wrist – the mark that before hadn't changed once since the day he was born – had finally resolved into a name.

Finn.

Poe knew it wasn't a coincidence, knew instantly that the Finn that helped him escape was his soulmate. As soon as the fighting ended, he rushed off to tell the other smudges and inform General Organa.

––––

Captain Phasma was a harsh commanding officer – because she knew what awaited her soldiers should they fail. Her punishments were designed to have the officer or trooper in question never, ever forget their failure, to push them to be better and do better. As soldiers, every one of their lives was on the line, and they had to rely on the strength of their squadmates to bolster them.

So when General Hux summoned her to his office to demand that she pull up a list of every soldier with a name on their wrist –a trait shared with their recent traitor FN-2187 –Phasma was already imagining ways to instill in them a deep fear should they ever consider defecting themselves. She wanted to avoid having one of her own troopers to betray them as much as Hux did. Phasma arrived to her meeting ready with the requested list of all members of the First Order who bore the name of a known enemy as their so-called "soulmark" –and ready to offer suggestions for training and punishment –but she was surprised to find that Hux didn't actually want to know who was on it.

"I want them gone – eliminated from the First Order. Do you understand?" Hux demanded with his usual sneer, waving away her datachip with one hand.

Phasma blinked, surprised, under her helmet. "Sir, there are over 300,000 troopers on that list-"

Hux cut her off. "I don't care! They are a cancer that must be excised," he finished with a snap. "Are you capable of following orders, Captain? Then, see to it. Now."

Phasma knew better than to question orders from a superior officer, and simply replied crisply, "Yes, sir. I will see that this is taken care of at once." She saluted when she was dismissed, then turned on her heel and strode from the room, even though inside she was reeling.

General Hux wanted these troopers "eliminated" as problems, and removed from the first order? There were troopers, officers, and pilots on that list that they would need in order to have any hope of defeating the Resistance. It would take a significant bite out of their fighting capabilities, as well as open up holes in their command structure. Hux didn't even want to read the file? Even she, whose punishments were the stuff of nightmares and provoked fearful whispers among the troops, would not go so far to stop something that had only happened once in the entire history of the First Order.

It was too much.

She luckily had her routes and habits so ingrained that she didn't need to think about where she was going or to acknowledge the troopers in her path – her body did that automatically for her as her mind raced. Phasma had a lot of work to do, had to quickly plan a way to get 300,000 troops safely away from here. General Hux was obviously a worthless leader – Phasma had never approved of his casual disregard of trooper lives, troopers who took years to train and were expensive to equip, but his carelessness for the troops had never been as flagrant as it was now. He treated her troopers like they were garbage, as if the First Order had the capability to simply fashion new ones like the legendary droid fighters in battles of the past, and not like the investments of time and energy that Phasma knew they were.

Hux sent her specific requests over the next few days as she reported on her progress preparing the troops. Phasma insisted they had to make it look like an accident, otherwise it would be terribly damaging for morale for the troops that remained. General Hux was unhappy with the idea but allowed it, considering it was taking such a bite out of his forces and that they had to preserve what fighting ability remained with the rest.

Phasma prepared transports rigged with explosives to blow during their hyperspace jumps – which she had to personally rig, in addition to her normal duties, so no word could leak. She also ordered all troops to report to a small outer base, where fewer eyes would witness their departure. The base would be crowded far beyond its intended capacity during the assembly, but she sent the transports first – the soldiers would just have to be housed on the ships until all troopers had assembled and they could depart. She assigned several squadrons of tie fighters and bombers to protect the unarmed troop transports, as if this were a real invasion support effort. It was a lot of troopers assembling, so there was no way it would go unnoticed, and so the Captain had no choice but to make it seem like a real mission – and that was her excuse should anyone question her.

The ships were also outfitted with temporary base equipment, rations, and supplies for the troops for a standard year. Thankfully, there were already plenty of support staff, officers, and pilots available among the names on the list she'd been ordered to assemble, definitely sufficient to cover the personnel needs. Phasma was nothing if not a good planner, and so she tried to prepare her troops for every eventuality that she could think of while still staying within the confines of her orders, making contingency plans and assigning extra equipment. She didn't know where they would end up, so it was required for the mission under standard regulations, even if the mission itself was a cover story.

Amazingly Hux didn't seem to care about the cost of the equipment involved, only that it was taking longer than he'd like. Did he think the equipment grew in tanks? It completely boggled the mind.

Then Captain Phasma did something that was very definitely outside the bounds of her orders, but necessary, and Phasma pulled up a second list of troopers. The first list that General Hux had requested had shown every member of the First Order who had a soulmate name listed who was a known member of the Resistance or an enemy military. This second list was of every soldier who had a soulmark name, even if the First Order had no record of who the name was. Phasma suspected that some of those names might eventually turn out to be known members of the Resistance as well, and if she left the other troopers as-is then they may be victims to a later purge. The troopers who simply had smudges on their arms, no names at all, Phasma then compiled into a third list, for her own records, along with all personnel details she could include – skills, training notes, current and previous assigned jobs, commanding officer.

Captain Phasma made sure to communicate some very carefully selected details about her top-secret mission to her second in command, Troop Commander JC-4065, along with a holo message that JC-4065 should not listen to until Phasma's mission had officially gotten underway – in private. JC-4065 had served under the Captain for years, and knew that such specific instructions were not to be taken lightly, especially given the secrecy surrounding this particular mission. Commander JC-4065 also had a strange sense of foreboding when speaking to the Captain just before the beginning of this secret mission, something about the way Phasma was talking that set her teeth on edge, but she couldn't put her finger on why that was. She simply had to grit her teeth and acknowledge the Captain's orders.

Taking her three lists, Captain Phasma requisitioned a single-person fighter for herself, and with a squad of fighters from the first list following her, she reported to the assembly point. Phasma's arrival at the assembly point was the signal for the final stage of preparation. She never intended to disembark and show her presence on the station as it would cause too much talk – soldiers were huge gossips after all, even her own well-disciplined storm troopers – so she simply scheduled her arrival to coincide with the end of the assembly process, just before they would get underway. No one on the small station would know that the final squadron of TIE fighters that arrived had a relative celebrity as a pilot. They would simply appear to be yet another drop in the ocean of troopers overwhelming the small station.

Immediately on her arrival, Phasma gave the go signal to all the ships' captains. Now they would prepare for final departure in one hour to coordinate their hyperspace jumps. Her squadron fell into formation around the lead transport as the readiness reports came rolling in. Everything was on schedule. When the hour was up, she gave the order to jump to light speed, and the convoy disappeared into the blackness of space.

––––

On the bridge of each transport ship, the ship's captain, first officer, and senior crew reported to their briefing rooms immediately on confirming course and readiness of the ship after entering light speed, in compliance with orders given by Captain Phasma beforehand. On the troop transport Vengeance, the captain ordered playback of the orders holo as soon as everyone had taken a seat around the table, and a projected image of Phasma appeared before them.

"Captains and senior officers:

"I have been ordered by General Hux to identify all members of the First Order who share a certain characteristic with the recent defector, FN-2187, namely that they bear a name on their arms who is a known member of the Resistance. The General then ordered me to have them eliminated from the Order."

Shocked silence greeted Captain Phasma's blunt announcement, and they stared disbelieving as the Captain continued without pause.

"Every single trooper on these transports and the fighters assigned to it are on this list. My orders were to assemble all such soldiers at a small outpost, and put them on troop transports rigged to explode in hyperspace. I have done as ordered."

One of the more junior officers at the other end of the table shakily rose to her feet, but the more experienced officer standing next to her put a staying hand on her shoulder, silently indicating that she wait till the end of the message. The experienced officer knew that Phasma may be harsh, but she was neither wasteful nor cruel – or at least that's what the officer was desperately hoping. Why else would she compose a message like this?

Holo-Phasma continued. "The timers on these explosive devices have all been set to blow exactly ten hours after the convoy's expected departure time, which should have taken place just a few minutes ago. You will find attached to this message a list of the locations of each explosive, as well as the command key to disarm them."

The entire room seemed to exhale in relief.

"Once disarmament has been taken care of, I expect the senior crew of each transport to relay to their crew and fighter escort the information that we have been eliminated from the First Order by command of General Hux, and then each ship and escort should redirect and proceed to the enclosed rendezvous point. I will hold a very rapid debriefing from each captain and first officer upon arrival at the rendezvous, and then we will proceed with the second stage of the plan after a short discussion. I understand that you probably have questions, as will your crew, and I will address them at the discussion.

"In the event of insurmountable problems with the disarming process for the explosive devices, I recommend each be sucked out into space using the airlock doors located next to each device, after disengaging their docking clamps. The deadline for this task is departure plus nine hours, or one hour before expected detonation. It would be nice to keep all possible equipment in a usable state, but your ships and crew obviously outweigh any of the involved materials.

"I know this is a difficult time, but all of you and your crews have been well-trained and I expect to find all vessels fully functional and ready for any possible emergent situations when we arrive at the rendezvous. Good luck.

"Captain Phasma, message complete."

Aboard the Vengeance the holo flickered into darkness with a soft click, and no one broke the silence for an uncomfortably long time. Finally, Commander Aturin Bala, the captain of the Vengeance turned to his first officer and ordered her to see to the disarmament as ordered by Captain Phasma at once. First Officer Harrin saluted crisply and left the room, already ordering the engineering staff to meet her in the flight bay as she walked out, scanning the list of explosive locations on a datapad as she went.

Commander Bala then turned to the rest of the crew and began the administrative nightmare of informing the crew per the Captain's orders. Some of the officers immediately suggested that they have a softer, more concealed explanation than the blunt one that Phasma provided, but Bala was of the same mind as Captain Phasma – better to get it over with while they were in hyperspace and no one could do anything, and give all the troopers time to absorb the information and hopefully calm down. He knew he certainly needed time to calm down after that bombshell – almost literally – was dropped into his lap. Bala rubbed his temples. It was going to be a long twelve hours to the rendezvous point, and he just hoped that he and his troops all made it there in one piece.

Chapter Text

JC-4065 waited watching the clock until exactly the expected departure time for the Captain's mission, and then proceeded to the most secure part of the facility, a comms room that was reserved only for high senior staff, to review Phasma's message. Taking a breath that she couldn't explain why she needed, she sat down in the chair at the console, and touched the data disk to the reader. A holo of the Captain appeared.

"Troop Commander JC-4065, I am reporting to you the planned success of the mission MVE-40077 as ordered personally by General Hux."

The message continued in what would have otherwise been a bland report by Captain Phasma, had JC-4065 not had such a bad feeling about this mission from the moment she was informed about it by the Captain. As it was, she watched the holo with an intensity and concentration that JC-4065 thought would have made the Captain proud, had she been there to see it.

"The General identified a characteristic that the traitor FN-2187 possessed that he thought was likely the cause of FN-2187's defection – the name of an enemy on their arm, also called a 'soulmark' – and he ordered me to form a list of other troopers in the First Order possessing the same characteristic. I found more than 300,000 matches. Then the General ordered me to eliminate all such troopers from the Order by putting them on troop transports rigged to explode in hyperspace."

JC-4065 did not make any sound or outward movement, but inside her mind was roiling.

"I have complied to the exact letter of General Hux's orders, and effective immediately he may consider all the soldiers on the list to no longer be a concern of the First Order. I highly suggest you use that exact wording when reporting the success of this mission."

The Troop Commander felt completely numb, and she wasn't sure how she was able to keep listening to the message except that she didn't dare stop it for fear that she might miss something. Nothing that JC-4065 had heard in the message so far, however, quite prepared her for what the Captain said next.

"As I am personally on this list of matches, I regret that I will not be able to personally report the success of this mission to the General. I recommend you, JC-4065, to be my replacement."

The surprise that the Troop Commander had felt before paled next to the horrified shock that she felt now – that Captain Phasma had ordered troopers to be killed? That she herself had been among them? She couldn't believe it, nothing made sense about any of this. But the Captain continued to speak blandly on the holo, and JC-4065 struggled to focus on what might very well be Phasma's last words to her.

"I have attached the report of the exact actions I took and commands that I issued in this mission, rated Secret level five, that I expect General Hux will not ask for if you do not tell him about them. You may use your own discretion in informing the General about the existence of this report, although I would warn you that the General prefers to not have to deal with the details. I am providing these actions in the event that General Hux may order a similar action at a later date for a possible second elimination. I have enclosed a list of all troopers that have a resolved soulmark name on their arm that has not been positively identified to be a member of the Rebellion or other enemy military. The total of this second list is 810,000 troops.

"I have full confidence that you will be able to fill this difficult role admirably, JC-4065. Good luck. Captain Phasma, message complete."

For a full five minutes after the holo playback stopped, JC-4065 sat there processing the information she'd just heard. Technically, she was supposed to report to General Hux with the success of the mission, but technically she was also supposed to do due diligence, so that meant she should probably read the Captain's full report before doing so, just in case. Also, JC-4065 wasn't sure if she was really ready to go report to the General just yet. She'd only been in his presence a few times before, but every time had been unpleasant – and that was when she'd had Captain Phasma to act as a buffer for the unstable man. Something that she wouldn't have now.

Somewhat clumsy from the successive shocks, JC-4065's fingers automatically pulled up the report and second "elimination" list, although it took the Troop Commander a few moments before she was able to comprehend even the title of the report. She took a deep breath and started reading – and what she found shocked her again, but at least things now started to make sense.

Piecing together clues from the report, JC-4065 saw that Captain Phasma had certainly overloaded the supplies and equipment for troop transports that were supposedly only going to be destroyed. They also had TIE fighter escorts to comply with invasion mission protocol, which was obviously intended as the cover for this mission to any outside observers. Then, buried deep within a boring section about the logistics of supply storage on the transports, JC-4065 found that Phasma had set the explosive charges on a timer for ten hours after departure. The Troop Commander then hurriedly skimmed the rest of the section, until she came across a rather bland statement about a pre-recorded message to be played after departure to the captains of each transport identifying all important assets on board the ship, along with a command key.

JC-4065 knew that command keys were used for receiving secure transmissions but also for other specialized commands like disarming explosives, and finally she understood why Captain Phasma had left her such a dispassionate message reporting essentially what should be her own death – along with the death of hundreds of thousands under her command – and without even saying goodbye. Because the Captain wasn't saying goodbye, and in fact if JC-4065 wasn't mistaken, she had left JC-4065 with a recipe for how to escape the same way, if needed. The Troop Commander had briefly skimmed the second elimination list, but hadn't needed to go all that far – her own designation was at the top of the list, as she had known as soon as Phasma had stated that the list was of troopers bearing names on their arms. JC-4065 was fully aware of the name indelibly marked on her arm, if not what it really represented.

The idea that the Captain would essentially defect with a fully equipped army was hard to process – JC-4065 still hadn't fully processed it,in fact. But it was an idea that she could much more easily stomach compared to the alternative – the destruction of Phasma herself and roughly 8% of their effective fighting force based on the whim of the most unstable general in the First Order. The subsequent idea following it, that JC-4065 herself would need to do something similar, was something she avoided thinking about entirely for now, but she felt relieved knowing that this moral dilemma had a road map provided by someone Troop CommanderJC-4065 greatly respected and looked up to. It was yet more evidence that despite her harsh punishments and brutal training regimen, Captain Phasma cared about her troops and looked out for their best interests.

Not that General Hux had given any of them much choice.

JC-4065then suddenly remembered the task she had yet to complete and wanted to groan. General Hux ... she still had to go report this to him, but she had an example of the same bland, unassuming language that Phasma had used to to describe this operation, so she didn't feel totally up shit creek without a shuttle evac. Still, she filed the report as she was required to under the appropriately bland mission name – one that she expected Hux himself didn't know or care about – along with the second list, then prepared to approach the General.

––––

Troop Commander JC-4065 found General Hux on the command bridge for the facility, pacing like a caged rancor and snapping orders at underlings. From the looks of it, Captain Phasma had escaped just in time. JC-4065 waited at attention until it seemed that the General was free to be approached.

"General, sir," JC-4065 said in the most professional voice she could muster. General Hux turned to face her expectantly, but she didn't make him wait or request an explanation. "Captain Phasma reports success of the mission that you personally ordered, mission MVE-40077. She reports that, quote, effective immediately you may consider all the individuals on the list to no longer be a concern of the First Order."

General Hux smiled in that creepy, not-quite-right way that he usually did. "Excellent news," he said. "Have her report to me once she returns from her ... mission." He turned back towards the monitors, effectively dismissing her.

JC-4065 prepared herself to deliver the news that Hux clearly hadn't realized – further demonstrating that the General wasn't actually aware of any of the details of this action – and cleared her throat. "Um, General, sir ... the Captain gives her regrets that she won't be able to report to you in person, because she is personally on the list for the mission and will be occupied for its duration."

This seemed to catch even General Hux by surprise, and he turned to regard JC-4065, blinking with his eyebrows raised. "Well," the General said, after a moment of consideration, "that is what it is. And you are her ... replacement ... for the interim?"

"Yes, sir."

"Very good then. I believe you are already aware of her tasks and duties, and you may proceed with those. Dismissed." He turned back to the bank of monitors.

JC-4065was glad for her helmet in that moment, as she wasn't sure she could have kept the expression of disgust off her face as the General dismissed the life of Captain Phasma so casually. Her salute to General Hux's back was perfectly crisp and to code, as was her stride out of the command bridge and back to her work station. She would have to eventually move into Captain Phasma's office, but that would have to happen later, so as to give the impression that Phasma wasn't permanently gone until it was too obvious to hide any longer.

The Troop Commander would have a much bigger job if Captain Phasma's prediction came to pass – but JC-4065 also had much more time to make sure things were ready. It was much easier to add minor amounts to requisition orders over time, rather than a bulk order immediately before the mission departure. JC-4065 could potentially have months or even years to plan for the second list elimination. She briefly outlined some increase schedules on her desk and added them to her monthly end tasks, before tackling her normal duties. She would need to complete her own current duties and recruit someone to fill said duties when she moved up to fill Phasma's role officially. Until then, she would essentially have two jobs. It was going to be a stressful time, and JC-4065 just hoped that whatever the names on their arms represented, that it would be worth it. She briefly rubbed her suit over the spot where she had the mark, before ignoring it and getting back to work.

Chapter Text

Captain Phasma exited hyperspace at the rendezvous to find several ships already arrived, and in the brief moments afterwards the rest exited the jump behind her. The coordination was clear in their close arrival times, and she took note for future praise, knowing that would probably be important in the days to come, perhaps nearly as important as food and water, what with the emotional turmoil that was necessarily going to be part of their situation for some time. Phasma directed her squadron to the landing bay of the lead ship and gave the communication that the meeting of ships' captains would be taking place shortly. Probably most of the senior staff would prefer to participate by holo so as to be more ready for anything unexpected – entirely understandable given the circumstances – but she was fully prepared for anyone with genuine concerns to want to meet with her in person.

After docking, the captain of the transport ship directed her to the bay that had been quickly set up with chairs and a makeshift table to act as their briefing room – troop transport ships weren't really made to be command ships, and so weren't fitted with an adequate space for the large meeting they required. Some of the captains and first officers had already arrived, and more were arriving. When all had checked in, Phasma started the meeting.

"I won't waste time with nice words or empty platitudes. You all understand what has happened, what it at stake here, and have had some time to think about what to do about it. I have some ideas, and failing anything better being proposed in this discussion, that is the course of action we will take. So, would you prefer to make suggestions or ask questions first, or would you prefer to hear about my ideas before that?"

There was some shifting among the officers around the table, but a few muttered that Phasma should probably proceed first, so the silver-armored Captain nodded.

"Very well. Not many serious options exist for us, other than perhaps piracy or mercenary work, but in the First Order we troopers have always dedicated ourselves to a cause, not just simple personal enrichment or greed, and now that we no longer have the Order, I propose that we join a similar cause – namely the Resistance." This produced the expected muttering and shifting amongst the officers – they had all been thoroughly trained against even thinking about treason, and that's basically what this would have been, were they still first order troops.

But they weren't First Order any longer.

Phasma held up a hand for silence, and waited till everyone had settled before continuing. "I know we have given our lives to oppose them up to this point, but a soldier's lot is and has always been to simply fight for whichever side we belong to. Our former side has abandoned us, so the Resistance are no longer our enemies. Opponents that we have faced on the battlefield are also the ones most like us, the ones we would most easily adapt to joining. The main difference between us when we fought was the insignia on our uniforms."

Phasma let them mutter amongst themselves for a few minutes, getting used to the idea, until after a relatively short time the talking died down. Then a few officers that had questions or opinions silently rose to stand at attention, indicating their desire to speak.

"Yes, DV-3657?"

"How are we supposed to find and contact the Rebellion? I doubt they would simply welcome a bunch of First Order ships in their midst."

"Excellent question. Prior to our departure, I gathered the most recent sightings of Rebellion operatives. They would most likely go to ground if confronted by a fleet First Order ships, but we can try to convince them that we are in earnest by contacting them with a few individuals in small fighter craft. The Resistance will surely be wary, but I'm hoping it'd be too hard for them to outright dismiss the gift of troops, ships, and arms that we represent."

DV-3657 nodded and returned to her seat.

Questions continued about details of the plans, and possible suggested avenues that might work better than the ones Phasma proposed, but so far no one had disputed the overall plan of defecting to the Resistance. When the questions and suggestions seemed exhausted, Phasma brought this point up directly, verifying that everyone in the room thought this was the best course of action from the outset. There were still some grumbles, mostly from the older captains, but no one felt that being a mercenary or pirate was any more palatable than joining the Resistance, and no one had any other option to suggest.

Phasma made sure all the officers in the conference were explicitly onboard with the plan – it would be very hard to change their course of action at a later date if they changed their minds – and then dismissed everyone to their ships. Each was assigned to send pairs of scouts out to a few of the locations on Captain Phasma's Resistance sighting list, one in plainclothes and one in uniform who would watch the ship. They were all given explicit orders to not engage in battle with Resistance – if attacked, they were to retreat or surrender. The idea was to get the Resistance's attention and act as a messenger, which would work if the trooper was captured, but would of course be counter-productive if the Resistance fighter was dead. It would be dangerous for the troopers involved, but all of their lives were currently in danger anyway and would continue to be until they successfully made contact.

Given the unlikelihood of contacting the Resistance and being believed, Captain Phasma hoped that by having troopers at every possible opportunity to make contact that they would increase their chances of overall success. Everyone was surprised and relieved when the first ships returned not that long after they were sent out. At first they were notices that the location had been a bust – either there were signs that a battle had taken place there, or there were First Order units actively patrolling the area. But then after that came the reports that the first successful contacts had been made.

All troopers and pilots were by now aware that they were no longer welcomed in the First Order and had lost their cause, which put everyone on edge. The additional uncertainty over actually finding and contacting the Resistance made that anxiety even worse, and Captain Phasma had had to institute measures in place to calm or distract the crew while they sat waiting in the dead of space, mainly consisting of patrols and ready drills. They shouldn't encounter anyone accidentally out where they were, far from any systems or shipping routes, but would have to be constantly watching their screens for danger.

Because of the heightened anxiety and vigilance, everyone was alert when one of their scouting ships exited hyperspace followed by a second ship that was most definitely not one of theirs. Captain Phasma immediately hailed the scout and the new ship, getting the report from the scout only moments before the unknown ship replied. The new ship claimed to be traders, but eventually Phasma pressed the captain to reveal whether or not they could get them in contact with the Rebel forces. The "trader" captain insisted that Phasma come aboard their ship and speak in person, to which Phasma agreed – Captain Phasma would not ask her own troops to risk their lives if she would not do the same for them. When her second in command over the fleet, DV-3657, insisted that she have at least one guard, even if they weren't allowed to be armed, Phasma relented and allowed DV to assign one to her. Naturally, DV-3657picked one of the most accomplished hand-to-hand fighters in the fleet, and shortly afterward Phasma found herself aboard the (hopefully Rebel) vessel.

None of the crew on the "trader" ship were wearing uniforms, and Phasma had instructed all troopers to remove their helmets when in the presence of non-fleet personnel – that had been one of the suggestions brought up at their discussion that Phasma approved of and thought would be a good way to build rapport – so she, her guard, and pilots all removed their helms as soon as their boots hit the deck of the docking bay. Phasma left her helmet with the troopers at the flight bay, and she and her one guard followed the trader captain unarmed to the trader's briefing room.

The trader offered Phasma a seat and then plopped down unceremoniously in the chair at his desk. "So," he said over his steepled fingers, "I know that you're attempting to contact the Resistance, but how exactly did you come to be out here?"

Captain Phasma nodded – this was an appropriate question – and without preamble she described the orders given to her and that a storm trooper had already defected when they found the person whose name was on their arm, who happened to be a Rebel pilot.

The trader listened with wide eyes but did not interrupt Phasma's story. He sat for a few moments after she finished, absorbing the information, and then he asked if he would be able to confirm any of their soulmarks.

"The names? Yes," she answered, promptly removing her own gauntlets and armguards to expose the inside of her forearm where her own name resided. Once the trader had read her soulmark name, Phasma nodded and then went to the door to summon her bodyguard, who'd she'd left standing just outside the door. She instructed him to also show the name marked on his skin, and he did so. The trader captain was appeared surprised at how easily they showed their soulmarks – Phasma guessed that perhaps there was some kind of rule or taboo about asking to see someone's soulmarks, but none of her troopers, not even Phasma herself, really understood much about soulmarks and so they weren't protective of them, except in the abstract. Captain Phasma certainly wouldn't want anyone to purposefully mar the name on her arm, but she didn't mind if someone simply looked at it.

Captain Phasma then suggested they all walk back to the shuttle where her crew waited, offering to show some more soulmarks there. The trader captain, and a few crew members, followed Phasma back to the docking bay, and watched in surprise as each fleet member promptly pulled back their uniform sleeves or armor to show their marks at Phasma's soft-spoken command.

If the Rebel scout captain (posing as a trader) was being honest, he hadn't really needed to see more after seeing this Captain Phasma's soulmark along with her guard's, but since the storm trooper Captain did not seem to mind or even be at all uncomfortable about it, he figured it couldn't hurt to see more. That way he'd have more to report back. One of his crew members even took him aside and whispered in his ear that she personally knew one of the names on one of the troopers' arms. The captain himself had recognized the name on Phasma's arm.

The threat of an attack was high, but every sign that he could think of just convinced the Rebel captain that he was dealing with real defectors. That represented a boon to the Rebellion that he simply couldn't ignore. Also, their ships were relatively undefended. Just a few squadrons of TIE fighters for dozens of troop transports? No heavy combat ships of any kind? He still had some questions, like he wanted to examine the transport ships themselves, or send in a scanning crew to check to make sure there weren't any signals that could possibly be sent out to call in a strike force. If that checked out though, he was ready to personally escort the fleet to the nearest rebel base. He knew General Organa would be absolutely thrilled to have such a large increase in their forces.

The Rebel scout captain called in a few backup ships to help perform their scans, but once completed he seemed satisfied, and Phasma gave the orders to prepare for departure. She left one mostly emptied transport behind with two squads of fighters to wait for any stragglers from their scouting teams – she wasn't calling them back in just in case they ended up needing those contacts later – but the rest of the fleet prepared to ship out.

All the transport crews had been anxiously waiting for Phasma's orders, and the captains had made good use of the time by preparing for flight before she even returned, so they were able to get underway fairly quickly. On the Rebel captain's command, all the ships entered hyperspace. Over the course of the voyage, they popped in and out of hyperspace a few times, each stop followed by a slight reorientation of their course and a subsequent jump to light speed. Captain Phasma had to admit that the Rebels were good at hiding their tracks.

Finally, they exited hyperspace over a planet, and their Rebel guideship ordered them to hold position.

Chapter Text

"General Organa!" one of the scan operators shouted just as imminent threat alarms started blaring loudly. Leia made her way quickly over to the operator, who breathlessly informed her about a large fleet assembling in orbit over the base. In the background she could hear orders to battle stations and ships from various defense officers.

"Get me intel on the ships and number," the General replied firmly.

Just then a comms operator interrupted. "General Organa, it's one of our scout ships, Captain Rodro, and he says he has a fleet of First Order defectors!" The comms operator sounded just as surprised as he looked. The scan operators started listing off the ship types, and they all were just troop transports with fighter escorts.

"Get me Rodro, and tell him to bring the commander of these supposed defectors."

––––

Captain Phasma listened intently to comms as her fleet's ships waited anxiously in high orbit. Her scanners showed defense systems powering up and turning to bear on their forces in orbit, but they didn't lock and no shots were fired, for which the Captain sent out silent thanks to the powers that be in the universe. Eventually after what felt like far too long, but what had probably only been a few minutes, the Rebel captain contacted her and requested that she descend to the surface to make contact with the base leadership. She acknowledged and signaled her assigned guard ship to descend with her. She made touchdown on the airstrip where indicated by the local flight coordinators, her escort just behind her. Getting out of her personal fighter, she ordered her escort to remain at the ships for now with his helmet removed, and she removed her own helmet.

A handful of Rebel soldiers drew closer, their blaster rifles in hand but not raised, standing off a few tens of paces away from Phasma's ship, obviously there to stand guard. Captain Phasma saw a group of what appeared to be officers approaching, so she stood at parade rest next to her ship with her helmet loosely held under one arm. Captain Rodro descended from his vessel nearby and then approached the officers first. They stopped to confer some distance off, but didn't waste any time before coming up to Phasma.

She recognized some of the officers' faces by sight, even without the HUD on her helmet visor to identify them. Phasma was impressed that such high-ranking Rebel officers had come out to greet them, up to and including the infamous General Leia Organa. Captain Phasma drew up to attention and waited to be addressed.

Leia took a moment to study the figure before her. Though she immediately recognized the distinctive armor – honestly, there wasn't anyone in either army who wouldn't know this was Captain Phasma, especially standing out against a sea of otherwise identically dressed troopers – she had certainly never seen the storm trooper captain without her helmet. She certainly cut an imposing figure, towering over even the other trooper that had accompanied her.

The former First Order officer appeared to be waiting for her to speak – like a good soldier, Leia's mind immediately supplied, though not exactly meaning that in a positive sense – and Leia had never in her long life been one to delay potentially difficult topics, so she got right down to business.

"Captain Phasma," she greeted.

"General Organa," the captain replied crisply.

They regarded each other silently for a beat.

"Well. Captain Rodro tells me you want to join us," the General continued.

"Yes, General."

Leia raised an eyebrow. "You going to tell me why?"

"Every trooper in my current command was thrown out of the First Order for the crime of having a soulmark bearing the name of a known member of the Rebellion or other enemy of the First Order," Phasma stated without preamble.

The eyes of every officer in the greeting party widened in surprise, and a few of them swore under their breath. General Organa didn't seem nearly as shocked as the rest – either she had an excellent poker face, or she had had some advance knowledge of the situation, Phasma guessed through Captain Rodro.

When no one responded right away to Captain Phasma's statement, she continued, "We are prepared to present our soulmarks for inspection, or if you prefer I have a list of all troopers and their soulmarks." Setting her helmet down on the tarmac, she proceeded to remove her gauntlet and armguard once more, finally holding out her arm wrist-up, revealing her mark.

After looking at the mark for a moment, General Organa turned and addressed one of the junior officers standing nearby. "Go get the lieutenant and have her report to conference room BT7," she said. The junior officer nodded once vigorously and then took off at a run across the tarmac. Leia cupped her hand to her earpiece, activating her comms, and ordered all combat ships to form a defensive perimeter around the fleet in orbit to protect it. "Except for Black One," she said, "Dameron, you're with me." She heard the acknowledgements flow out across the comms, and turned her comms back to listen-only mode.

Gesturing to the former First Order captain still standing with her arm held out for inspection, the General said, "I believe it would be better to have this conversation inside, don't you think?" Leia motioned for Phasma to follow and began walking towards the open base doors behind them.

"Yes, General," Captain Phasma fell into step a pace behind and to the right. "Do you wish me to summon my leadership staff?" Leia slowed and turned to look at the taller officer. "They are standing by in a shuttle should they be required."

Leia hummed in thought, then replied, "Yes, we might as well have them down here, too."

Phasma nodded and lifted her wrist up to her mouth so she could speak into her backup comms unit there – normally she only used her helmet comms, but she was now glad that she had the wrist backup available. "NL-2173, send the officer shuttle down to the surface, flight path to be requested from the local flight coordinator."

The communicator beeped and a slightly garbled "Yes, Captain, right away," came through. Apparently the backup systems were lower quality, Phasma noted absently.

General Organa led them to a fairly large conference room some distance into the base. A number of officers were already in the room seated at the table, and came to attention when the general entered, but she waved them back down. Captain Phasma herself was assigned to a seat next to General Organa, who waited patiently as the rest of the Resistance officers stood or sat around them. Phasma was consulted briefly on the headcount of her officers that were descending, and a number of other chairs were brought in. At least the Resistance seemed to be somewhat efficient, Phasma thought to herself with approval.

Several of the Rebel officers that hadn't greeted her arrival on the tarmac kept glancing at Phasma with expressions ranging from surprise to anxiety to some mixture of the two. Captain Phasma knew she was potentially a very intimidating figure. Even sitting down she towered over several of the Rebel officers, especially when seated right next to General Organa, who was astonishingly short for such an infamous war leader. The General herself seemed to not at all be bothered by any of this, and greeted the arriving personnel amiably as they waited for Phasma's leadership staff. Phasma was impressed by the General's comportment – the former First Order officer rolled her shoulders back and resolved to be as equally unbothered, even if some of the Rebel officers were borderline staring.

It did not take long for Phasma's officers to arrive, taking up places standing against the wall or in the open chairs. There was a small increase in tension when some of the Rebel officers tried to relinquish their seats to the arriving troopers, who vehemently disagreed, already so uncomfortable with the situation that they couldn't bear sitting down or taking seats from apparently more senior officers. General Organa swiftly intervened, telling her officers to let the troopers stand if they wanted to, diffusing the situation. Captain Phasma noticed that some of her officers were sporting looks of obvious worry or fear, and she realized that having had their faces covered for most of their lives had left them at a disadvantage – they had never had to worry about schooling their expressions before, and lacked the practice. The officers whose uniforms had not included a mask seemed to be much better at it, and managed to keep their faces smooth and calm, although Phasma suspected that internally they were probably nowhere near as unperturbed as they appeared.

Another two officers burst into the room then, breathing heavily and obviously having hurried to get here – one of them Phasma recognized as the junior officer from the tarmac that the general had sent to fetch another lieutenant. The new lieutenant had reddish-brown hair and was of medium stature, and although Phasma didn't know who the officer was, she seemed striking somehow. For the new arrival's part, the lieutenant's eyes fell on the silvery armor that Phasma was still wearing on most of her body and widened almost comically.

"Ah, Lieutenant, you're just in time," General Organa said amicably with a warm smile.

"I- General?" the lieutenant said questioningly, not knowing exactly what to ask, her eyes darting around the room to take in the other officers. She waved off a sitting officer that tried to offer her their seat, and she stepped back to stand against the wall. Movement rippled around the room as Phasma's officers there shifted to give the newcomer space.

"Very good," Leia began, addressing the room. "I have called you all here to discuss the important matter that is here before us, regarding the fleet the fleet currently in orbit over the base. Poe, if you wouldn't mind recounting the ... little problem you discussed with me the other day?"

A man leaning casually against the wall stepped forward to the table. Phasma blinked, eyes widening slightly as she recognized him as the Rebel pilot that had been captured and had escaped, taking the defector FN-2187 with him. She felt a swarm of conflicting emotions on seeing him, but she firmly squelched those feelings – now was not the time – and focused her attention on the man's words. The Rebel pilot described to the room how he had escaped the First Order with the help of the defector, and how he had given the defector a name, and then the pilot – to much shock and consternation around the room – bared his forearm to show the room that the name on his arm read 'Finn'. He also mentioned something about smudges finding their soulmates, which Phasma didn't understand, frowning in confusion.

The general, noticing her expression, clarified, "Smudges. You know, the type of soulmark?" When Phasma still did not understand, Leia called on one of the officers to show the room their smudged soulmark. "Smudges are people with soulmarks that appear as just a smudge."

Captain Phasma's expression cleared in understanding, and she nodded once. "Ah, yes. I didn't realize that was common outside of the troopers," she said.

General Organa gave Phasma an unreadable look, then cleared her throat. "I believe you should tell the room what you told me and Captain Rodro, about why you've come to be orbiting our base with your fleet."

Phasma nodded again and stood to deliver her report, holding herself stiffly at attention as she spoke to the room at large. "General Hux identified the reason that FN-2187 defected, and ordered me to identify all other members of the First Order who also had a soulmark bearing the name of a known enemy or Rebel. He then ordered me to eliminate all identified personnel with an enemy soulmark by putting them aboard troop transports with explosives rigged to blow in hyperspace. I did as ordered-"

Quiet murmurs and shuffling could be heard around the room, but Phasma ignored them and continued.

"-allowing the First Order to believe that those transports really were going to be destroyed. Following orders I'd left with the command crews of each transport ship, all explosives were successfully disarmed within the first hour of the trip, with no loss of material or casualties. Our fleet rendezvoused at the designated safe location after completing the jump, and we officially became no longer part of the First Order. After a brief discussion we determined that joining the Resistance would be the best option for our forces, so we sent scouts to known sightings of Rebel forces, attempting to make contact. After three days, XB-4799 reported back with a trader captain, Captain Rodro, claiming to be able to put us in contact with Rebel forces. We let him examine our soulmarks and our ships, and then he led us here to this base." Phasma nodded once to indicate she had finished her report, and sat down.

The silence in the room was thick and palpable, with nearly everyone's eyes glued to Phasma – the Captain could feel their gazes, but most of all she felt the gaze of the red-haired lieutenant who had joined the meeting late. The woman's eyes seemed fixed on Phasma's arm, and the Captain glanced down to see that name had been clearly visible with how the trooper had been holding her arm. The red-haired woman was gripping her arm tightly with the other hand, fingers wrapped around her forearm. The lieutenant's eyes lifted to meet Phasma's across the room, and the Captain's insides inexplicably roiled, much to her own internal confusion.

––––

General Organa cleared her throat, drawing the eyes of Phasma and most of the rest of the room – even without glancing over though, Phasma could tell that the redhaired lieutenant had not taken her eyes off Phasma.

"Lieutenant," Leia called gently. The red-haired officer's eyes snapped over to meet the general's. "Would you mind please showing us your soulmark?"

It was an unconventional request judging by the way the other Rebel officers in the room reacted. Several of Phasma's officers noticed and looked confused, but what drew Phasma's attention the most was the reaction from the red-haired lieutenant. The woman hesitated, still gripping her arm – which Phasma belatedly realized was where her soulmark should be – and the Captain had a sudden irrational urge to step between the woman and the general. Phasma's hands twitched, but she otherwise managed to control the impulse.

Finally, the lieutenant's eyes dropped from Leia's, and she rolled up her sleeve and held it out to the room. Phasma's eyes fell on the name marked there, and a bolt of charge shot through her body – she half-rose to her feet without being aware of it, leaning on her hands over the table in front of her, unconsciously pulling herself closer to that name. Phasma.

"I ...," the Captain began haltingly, eyes wide and fixed on the mark the other woman bore. Finally ripping her eyes from her own name, Phasma lifted her eyes to the other woman's face, then she dropped them down to her own arm, reading the name indelibly marked there on her skin. "Lari Cerall," she read aloud, half to herself. She looked up at the lieutenant again. "Are ... are you Lari Cerall?" Her voice sounded strange in her own ears, but all Phasma's attention was focused on the woman across from her.

The lieutenant gave a jerky nod. "Lieutenant Lari Cerall, weapons specialist."

Phasma nodded once in acknowledgement, although her body felt numb and responded somewhat sluggishly. Then she recalled where she was, and turned her attention back to the meeting. Phasma was practically buzzing with energy internally, but she kept herself as still as she could. Her officers around the room were staring at her or the Rebel lieutenant with varying degrees of fear plain on their faces – her troopers obviously needed her, so Phasma pulled herself together and sat back down in her chair. She turned to address General Organa but the general spoke first.

"Well," she said, "that was certainly something I wasn't expecting when I woke up this morning." The room laughed quietly, the mood immediately lightening among the Resistance officers – although the troopers still looked vaguely uneasy, laughter not exactly being a good thing back in the First Order. "I think that might be enough excitement for now though. Perhaps we should get your fleet settled in, Captain, especially since it seems like there are a lot of you."

Phasma nodded, her professional outward demeanor fully back in place. "Yes, General. There are 308,510 troops in my fleet." For the first time the entire day, General Organa looked surprised. "Unless you have a significant portion of this base underground, I suspect this facility is not capable of housing more than a small part of our forces. However, we have come prepared with materials to construct temporary housing for the entire fleet, except for the troop transports themselves – they are far too large to build temporary structures for them on the surface and will instead remain in orbit."

General Organa exhaled sharply. "No, we definitely don't have enough space for that many new soldiers on the base – and how many ships?"

"18 squadrons of 12 vessels each, between 2 to 5 bombers per squadron and the rest fighters, plus my personal squadron. So that's approximately 200 single-person fighting vessels, plus 90 troop transports. I have more precise numbers, should you need it." Phasma made eye contact with one of her officers standing against the opposite wall, who had been assigned to logistics for this mission – he came to attention at her glance and nodded crisply in acknowledgement of her implied orders.

Some of the Resistance officers around the room swore out loud at the number of vessels. General Organa waved them to silence. "And is there anything you need? Anything that you didn't bring with you?" she asked. Leia was personally very impressed at the organizational skills of this captain, and was glad that they were now on the same side.

Captain Phasma frowned in thought for a few moments, considering, then shook her head. "Just some fairly even terrain where we can set up our temporary base. We haven't been separated from our supply lines for very long so haven't used up more than a small fraction of what supplies we brought with us."

Leia nodded, and then directed some of the officers to coordinate with the former First Order fleet to get them set up. As Phasma started directing her officers with tasks and digging into the work before them to get the temporary base construction underway, she found herself relaxing for probably the first time since General Hux gave his order to terminate the troopers. She also found as she went that they really needed a name to refer to their fleet and the troopers under her command – former First Order was long and clunky.

The issue of names was brought back up again when General Organa took her aside and asked Phasma about the issue of names for those under her command. Phasma had been one of the few people in the entire fleet who had an actual name, and the lack of the name was what caused the Smudges, as they referred to themselves, to not have names as their soulmarks. The General proposed resolving this problem by assigning names to the troopers, and asked for the Captain's input. When Phasma didn't have a ready response for that – she still didn't fully understand why it was necessary for troopers to have names – Leia assigned some soldiers to research a list of names. They needed a lot of names, but there were lots of cultures and languages in the galaxy so she simply asked them to compile everything they could. Phasma requested that they index the names based on the letters they contained, in case troopers wanted to use their letter designations the way FN-2187 had.

Within less than two hours, they had enough planning to start assigning troop transports to their new temporary base locations – they had been sitting in orbit for hours by that point, and before that for days in empty space, so Phasma wanted those soldiers on the ground and out of their ships as soon as she could get them there. Some of those troopers had been living on their transports for weeks by that point, if they had arrived with the first orders to assemble. She knew from personal experience that even storm troopers could get cabin fever, no matter how much the generals in the First Order had insisted on treating them like objects to just stick in storage – and then the same generals would complain about their forces not being comparable to the Resistance or other enemy militaries. Idiots.

Phasma listened to the progress reports come in on the base set up while continuing with the planning conference. At last, they called a break in the planning and released everyone back to their normal duties. Captain Phasma stood and stretched, cracking her back in an attempt to erase the hours spent hunched over the table. Neither the chairs nor the table were of a comfortable height for her large frame, and Phasma could tell that she would need to do some more serious physical activity later to recover from it.

One of Leia's officers, named Magne she recalled, was assigned to escort them to the officers' mess hall, and Phasma and her officers trailed after him. As they walked the halls of the base, countless curious Resistance soldiers would stop everything they were doing and watch them until they were out of sight. There had also been a lot of Resistance soldiers "just happening to pass by" the conference room while the planning was in session – when Phasma had realized what was going on, she'd nearly laughed out loud at how transparent the soldiers had been in their intentions. General Organa hadn't bothered to hold in her laughter, but had decided that she probably needed to go make an official announcement to all base personnel before the rumor mill started running full swing with whatever ridiculous theory was currently the most popular.

Leia guessed the reason behind the most persistent of the curious onlookers, and had Captain Phasma provide her with the list of trooper designations and the soulmark for each. Then as they were walking to the mess Phasma dropped another bombshell on General Organa, when the captain told her about the existence of a second list with more than double the number of troopers on it, although she wasn't sure when or even if they would have cause to use it.

"Don't drop that much on me all at once!" Leia said in half-serious exasperation as they turned down yet another hallway. "I already have 300 thousand of you to deal with right now."

Phasma lips twitched upwards briefly. "I'm sorry, General – it's nothing that you'd need to worry about in the immediate future, but I wanted you to know that it exists. If your soldiers don't find their soulmark on the first list, then it might be on the second, because we only used the names of known enemies to compile the first one. If it's a new recruit, or if the Rebel in question is little known, then they won't be on that first list."

"I am both happy and unhappy about that – I don't exactly need more troopers in your fleet, but at the same time I wish you could have extracted all our soulmarks from the First Order. I'll make sure to pass more complete and updated lists of Resistance member names to the First Order the next chance I get."

Phasma choked on air, unsure if the other woman was joking or not, until the General smiled and reached up to slap her lightly on the shoulder. Working with the Resistance was certainly a different experience from the First Order, and Phasma wasn't sure it was a bad thing – it was actually rather refreshing to not have superior officers that were homicidal maniacs.

"In any case, I'll make both lists available to be searched, so that way no one comes back to me to ask more questions about it, but the second list will only be available to those who don't find a match on the first list. All the Smudges are already pestering me about finding out who their match is, or trying to unconvincingly volunteer for extra duty helping the troopers set up base – like I can't see right through that idea. This will keep them out of my hair at least for a little while."

Phasma nodded. "It probably would be counter-productive to have them try to assist with the base construction – but if you don't give them something else to do then we'll just see a repeat of the 'casual strolling by the conference room' but in ships at each base."

General Organa laughed. "I see you understand – soldiers are the same the galaxy over. Yes, that's probably exactly what they'll do."

A new voice joined in the conversation. "Maybe suggest that they can make little care packages for their new soulmate, to help introduce them to base life here – or they can compile a shortlist of names to help their soulmate choose one."

Phasma turned to see the pilot Poe Dameron had joined them. The man was slightly arrogant, which the First Order had its fair share of, especially in the higher command and officer positions. The Captain found the man slightly annoying, but had to admit that his idea was a good one, so she nodded and said so. General Organa promised to include it in her announcement, then excused herself, leaving Phasma with Poe as they reached the mess hall.

Chapter Text

On arriving at the mess hall, Phasma noticed that her officers were attempting to reorganize themselves into a queue by rank at the mess hall counter, so she stepped forward and commanded them to remain in their current order of arrival. "Everyone's going to get to eat, and it doesn't look like they'll run out," she reminded them, motioning to the well-stocked counter before them. The former First Order officers nodded and relaxed, merging seamlessly into a single line.

Phasma turned back to Pilot Dameron, who was regarding her curiously. "Are soldiers served by rank in the first order?"

"No," she answered, putting herself in the queue as well, "but it's the default order when they don't have other instructions – and troopers tend to fall back on what they know when in doubt." The line was moving quickly and Phasma already came up to the counter. She picked up a tray like her officers in front of her had – above everything else, the First Order trained its soldiers well in emulation – and stared at the choices in front of her. The cafeteria workers, having just gone through the same thing with all the officers in front of her, calmly explained to Phasma what each dish was. It didn't really help, because almost none of the ingredients listed made any sense to the First Order soldiers.

"The chicken is good – I had it last week," a voice beside her said.

Phasma turned to see Lieutenant Lari Cerall standing beside her at the counter, holding a tray. Poe Dameron was standing behind her, trying in vain not to smile – he must have relinquished his place in line behind Phasma to the Lieutenant when Phasma wasn't looking. The Captain just blinked at her soulmarked person for a moment, then turned to the attendant behind the counter – who was also trying not to smile but failing – and indicated that she wanted to try the chicken. Receiving her scoop of what looked like various things in sauce, the next step was easier – Captain Phasma knew what both potatoes and rice were, so she picked the latter, since it looked like it would be easier to eat up the sauce with it.

The next stage however, was just series of transparent cases without an attendant, and Phasma found herself a little lost again – internally she lamented why there were so many choices here. Some of the other former First Order officers were also milling about in front of the cases aimlessly, unsure what to do. Poe came over to try and help them out, his annoying arrogance conspicuously absent as he patiently explained that it was just drinks and dessert, then explaining what each one was. This of course didn't really help, so each of the troopers simply grabbed one of each group without really understanding what it was they were selecting. They then followed Dameron like lost ducklings over to some empty tables at the back that could accommodate all of them.

Phasma watched the pilot interact with her officers with renewed respect, and then turned to see which choices her soulmark selected from the cases. When she reached for the same items, Lari stopped her.

"If you'd like, you can taste some of mine, and then taste the ones you have, and then if you don't like them you can exchange with me," the lieutenant proposed.

The Captain nodded – this idea seemed reasonable to her, so she had Lari point out another drink and dessert that she liked, arguing that Lieutenant Cerall should have something she liked no matter what the outcome. This explanation appeared to please the Lieutenant, who smiled at Phasma, and suddenly the Captain felt warm and happy – she'd never reacted to a smile this way before. It was pleasant but incredibly confusing, and suddenly it was incredibly difficult to look away from her soulmarked person.

They walked over to the other troopers at the back table, and Phasma overheard KP-5680 mentioning quietly to FF-2281 that she didn't understand why there were so many choices. Phasma cleared her throat in warning, just in case KP-5680 thought no one was nearby to hear them, and KP looked up with a slight flush to see Phasma and her soulmark sit down across from them.

"Sorry, sir," KP-5680 said apologetically, but Lieutenant Cerall wasn't having any of that.

"It's not something you have to apologize for – it's true that we do have a lot of choices. I just hope you enjoy what you got," Lari replied.

KP-5680 frowned in confusion. "It's food. Why wouldn't I like food?" she asked, a little bewildered. "Is there food you don't like here?" She looked down at her plate more critically, as if examining it for danger.

Meanwhile, down at the other end of the long table, Poe was showing a group of troopers how to pop out the drinking tabs on the drinks they'd each selected. After demonstrating with his own, the first trooper, ND-9476, took a sip from his – and then pulled back in shock almost immediately. "Whoa!" he half-shouted, drawing the attention of half the mess hall.

"What is it?" asked Poe, concerned. "Is it bad? Do you not like it?"

The trooper seemed at a loss for words. "I ... don't know?" ND-9476 stared at the drink container like it had betrayed him, and then sniffed at it, finally taking another sip. "It's ... sweet!" The other troopers at the table made exclamations of surprise.

"Sweet? How can a drink be sweet?" FF-2281 asked, looking slightly disdainful, and went to take a sip of his own drink. "Whoa!" he said, in almost exactly the same tone as ND-9476 had moments before. "This isn't water!" He sniffed at his own drink container.

"Ohhhhh," said Poe, "you guys want water? Because we have a water dispenser." He pointed over to a machine along the wall with a stack of empty glasses next to it.

In response FF-2281 held up his hand, and took another sip of his drink again. "I mean, it's ... not ... bad?" All the troopers then proceeded to try out their own drinks, with varying degrees of the same astonishment at the taste.

Dameron stood up, laughing. "Ok, I can see how the rest of this meal is going to go, so maybe we should have the water here just in case you need it, so you'll have at least one thing familiar at the table." He went over to get a tray and filled it with glasses of water.

"Wait," KP-5680 said, putting down her drink container. "You mean the food is going to be like this too?" she asked. Picking up her spoon and taking a scoop of the same chicken that Phasma had gotten, she held it in front of her nose, sniffing it. KP-5680 furrowed her brow. "It doesn't smell sweet," she said, and then put the spoonful in her mouth. Her eyes flew wide open and she clapped a hand to her mouth.

"What!" Poe said in alarm, hurrying over as quickly as he could without spilling the drinks. "Is it ok??"

But KP-5680 didn't answer, slowly chewing the mouthful of food. Finally she swallowed, and all the troopers leaned forward as one in anticipation of her pronouncement. "What is this?" she asked in wonder.

Dameron half-laughed, half-huffed, and sat his tray of water down on the table. "It's lunch," he quipped, handing out the glasses of water. "Here, you're gonna need these."

KP-5680 gave the pilot a supremely unamused look in response.

"Hey, fair's fair when you scare me like that. I thought you'd burned yourself or something. Let's try to not give me a heart attack before we even get to dinner – personally I think that's the meal that usually has the better options anyway."

All the troopers at the table gave the Resistance pilot disbelieving looks.

Poe held up his hands. "You'll see – for now just eat your food and tell me what you think."

As ordered the rest of the table tucked in, with similar degrees of surprise. When FF-2281 reached for his dessert first though, Poe held out a hand to stop him. "Whoa," he said. "You can't eat that first – I mean you can if you want, but it'll probably taste better than the rest of the meal so almost everyone saves it for the end."

FF-2281 looked at Dameron in confusion. "But it's the smallest one – aren't you supposed to finish it off first?"

Poe seemed to stifle a laugh, but answered the trooper in all seriousness. "Well, considering it has the strongest flavor, maybe you should give the rest of the stuff a try first," he suggested.

Looking at the 'dessert' with surprise and suspicion, FF-2281 nodded and set the small container down, and instead picked up his utensil to try the other items like his fellow officers. Not everyone was able to get through all of what they called the 'main' dish, but since the troopers either picked potatoes or rice as the second, they all finished the rest of their food. The desserts, as Poe predicted, did end up being the items with the strongest flavor.

––––

Meanwhile, Phasma was only partly paying attention to her officers – most of the Captain's attention was on her soulmarked person sitting next to her. Lieutenant Cerall similarly couldn't seem to keep her eyes off of Phasma, and they both ended up gazing at each other for most of the meal, observing the other's habits. When Lari showed Phasma how to open her drink container, the smaller woman's hands were pleasantly cool on her own, and yet the touch unaccountably seemed to set Phasma's skin on fire. Phasma found that both the drinks were pleasant, but ended up sticking mostly to her water. She didn't have any trouble finishing off her rice and 'chicken', although she still wasn't exactly sure what chicken even was. Lari laughed lightly and promised to show her holos later of what it looked like.

Soon though, the other officers were packing their trays up, and Phasma and Lieutenant Cerall hadn't even started their desserts yet, so naturally Phasma attempted to eat hers really quickly and catch up. Lari put a hand out to stop her.

"You can't rush dessert – it's important," she said, and held out a spoonful of hers for Phasma to try. They had already been sharing different items from their plates, so the Captain didn't blink at the silent offer and simply leaned forward to accept the bite, chewing in concentration even as her eyebrows rose at the strong flavor.

The other trooper officers hadn't noticed the pair's behavior before, being too distracted by their own new food experiences, and stared at the incredible display, especially considering that it was Captain Phasma of all people. Poe waved a hand in front of the staring troopers to break the spell.

"Hey you guys, don't stare – they're soulmates. Of course they're going to act all lovey-dovey. Haven't you seen soulmates bonding before?" He put his hands on his hips and looked at them like he was scolding misbehaving children.

KP-5680 frowned at the Resistance pilot. "What do you mean 'soulmates'? Don't you mean 'soulmarks'?" she asked, tapping her inner forearm through her uniform where her soulmark name rested.

"Well kriff," Dameron swore. "You don't know what soulmates are?"

Lieutenant Cerall came to his rescue, she had been listening in, even if Phasma had been more distracted. (She had just tried this chocolate for the first time ever, okay? Phasma felt her distraction was a bit justified.)

Lari explained, "Soulmarks are the names written on your skin, and soulmates are the person the name belongs to. We almost always refer to soulmates as pairs of people who share each other's soulmark. Your soulmate is the person who will be the best match for you, the person who best completes you." While saying this, except for the first few words Lari maintained eye contact with Phasma, and the Captain found herself blushing successively more as the Lieutenant continued speaking. Would she be all of these things for Lari? It felt impossible to believe, but Lari seemed to think so, and on the strength of her support alone it was hard for Phasma to discount it.

The other storm trooper officers watched the exchange in silence for a few moments. Eventually, KP-5680 turned to Poe and asked in a low voice that nonetheless carried to the entire group of troopers, "Is this what all soulmate pairs are like?"

"Pretty much," he said with a grin. Throwing an arm around her shoulders and dragging her and the rest of the trooper officers out of the mess hall, Dameron added, "Now let's give them some time alone, shall we?"

Chapter Text

The two soulmates did eventually leave the mess hall – the Lieutenant had other duties to perform, and Captain Phasma needed to check in on the progress of her new bases. They had scattered the temporary bases over multiple bodies in this system in order to make it not as obvious there was a fleet here, and it would take a while for her to get between each base. Rebel bases primarily protected themselves through camouflage, while Storm Trooper bases typically made themselves very obvious but with impervious defenses. Sadly, Phasma did not have the First Order's massive construction operation here to support her with base building, so she would have to be stuck with the Resistance method for now.

The Resistance quartermasters had offered to help them out with crafting new uniforms until their own fleet fabricators were no longer occupied with construction tasks, so Phasma picked up the first shipment and had it loaded onto her shuttle. The new uniforms were the same as the rebel uniforms, but with a white slash from lapel to one hip, curving across the front like a sparring gi – apparently the mark coming from some ancient civilization of warriors. Phasma didn't know the reference, but she appreciated that it was a reference to a group of warriors.

She flew out to the first base, helpfully named Base 1. General Organa had laughed when she heard the designation, saying that it wasn't like the former First Order captain had any experience at naming things. "You are storm troopers, after all," she finished, eyes smiling. Phasma found herself smiling in return, which she did often in her exchanges with General Organa. "Don't worry about it – we'll take care of giving it a real name later."

Phasma exited her ship after touching down and made her way over to the command center, saluting the guards outside standing at attention. As per her standing orders since leaving the First Order, all troopers uniforms were the same as before, except without helmets. Personnel whose uniforms didn't wear helmets were to not wear their hats, simply as a way to distinguish them from somewhat from the First Order. Phasma debriefed the interim base commander of Base 1, and told him to start a list for a gradual roll-out of the new uniforms, with a priority towards base guards since they didn't have enough for everyone yet. At least the lack of sufficient uniforms for the moment meant that the troopers would have a chance to get used to seeing them before everyone had to wear them. They would also have to see about fabricating some new armor suits – for now, in any battle situations the old armor would do, but they would have to wear Resistance insignia at the shoulders to distinguish themselves. It was a necessary precaution when the most likely enemies would be wearing the same armor and uniforms.

True to her earlier prediction, as she left the command center Phasma found several Resistance soldiers loitering next to the base entrance, casually trying to see inside. The base guards would occasionally glance at them, but otherwise tried to pretend they weren't there – the troopers had no real idea what to do in this situation, since they'd never had base visitors before that were unauthorized but yet designated as friendly forces. Some of the more enterprising Resistance soldiers and pilots were trying to convince the base guards to either tell a specific trooper to come out of the base (who was presumably the Rebel's soulmate), or alternately to allow the Rebel entrance to the base so they could find that particular trooper. Phasma was just approaching the entrance to the base when she heard one.

"... but please, you just gotta give me five minutes – five minutes, that's all I'm asking – and I'll be in and out before you know it. In fact, no one else will know it, I'll be so fast," the Resistance soldier was saying.

Phasma stepped up behind the man and put a hand on his shoulder. The Rebel jumped in surprise, then almost jumped in surprise again when he saw who exactly had caught him.

"Uh, hi, uh, Captain," he stuttered.

"Does General Organa know you're out here?" Phasma asked, trying hard to keep from smiling at the man's obvious discomfort at being caught.

"Uh, well, uhhhh ...."

"I believe the General has provided you with a timeline for when you'll be allowed to contact your soulmate, and a series of tasks you can do to prepare for when your soulmate will be available. Until then ...," Phasma finished by gesturing towards the Resistance shuttles and fighters parked next to the TIEs on their makeshift tarmac – currently just an area cleared of brush and rubble that was mostly flat.

"But you don't understand," the man begged, "I just want to see him and say hi, introduce myself-"

"-and you will have plenty of time to do that after all the troopers have finished their base preparations," Phasma finished for him. "Now, go on and start making your care package, before I'm forced to report your current location to the General."

That seemed to get the man going, and he hurried off to his ship.

"And take the others with you," Phasma called out after him. Shaking her head, the Captain turned to the guard, who looked grateful for having a superior officer bail her out of the sticky situation she'd been in. "If they come back, or for any repeat offenders, simply report them to the Rebel base. First time offense, just repeat what I told him. Do you remember what I said?"

The trooper repeated more or less the argument Phasma had used. The Captain reinforced a few points, then gave the guard instructions to pass that information along to others on this shift and the next shift, and to record it as a new regulation to be passed along to the other bases.

"Yes, sir."

Phasma smiled slightly to herself, and continued on to drop off her cargo and check in with the next base.

––––

Yawning, Captain Phasma launched her shuttle, taking off at a steep angle for the most efficient altitude increase. She had just completed her duties at the last base, and she was exhausted. Like most of her troopers, she had been on a different sleeping schedule when they had encountered the Rebel base. That meant Phasma had simply extended her hours to account for the extra work that contact brought, and all of them were extremely tired by the end of the day today. Fortunately, their extra effort had paid off, and not only had they found the Resistance and been accepted into their number, but they had temporary sleeping quarters for every single one of the troopers, most even on solid ground. Granted, some of them would be returning to the transports to sleep, but at least now they weren't overcrowded and sleeping in rotations.

Blinking at her navigation system and trying to remember where she was supposed to go next, Phasma blearily realized that she hadn't assigned herself to any specific quarters yet. Thankfully, each base had five quarters intended for visiting senior officers. She probably could have just stayed on the ground at the last base and slept there, but now that she was in orbit already, it would seem silly to just land again, so she began setting in a course for Base 1 when her comms chirped.

"Captain," a familiar voice greeted over the comms.

"Good evening, Lieutenant Cerall," Phasma replied, smiling as she spoke, feeling the strange warmth that she had whenever she heard her soulmate speak.

"I'm afraid to inform you that we passed into night a couple hours ago, Captain," her soulmate quipped. "And I believe you are well past the end of your shift."

Phasma winced slightly. "Yes, well past, but I just finished at the last base and have finished my duties for the night."

"And I see in the records that you have not assigned yourself any quarters at the temporary bases."

Kriff. "Yes, I forgot – but there are free quarters for visiting senior officers, so I'm just going back to Base 1 and using one there."

There was a slight pause over the comms after that, and Phasma wondered if her last transmission had gone through. She opened her mouth to check, when Lari spoke again.

"Oh by the Force, Leia is right – you troopers are terrible at naming things."

Phasma laughed. "Perhaps," she conceded, "but we are second to none at building temporary bases."

"Ok, I'll agree with that." Phasma could tell from the sound of her voice that the lieutenant was smiling. "However, I requested a room assignment for you here at main base when I found out you didn't have one assigned yet, so you don't have to worry about it."

Phasma raised her eyebrows in surprise. Apparently her soulmate was as much of a planner as she was – this was definitely a good thing, as Phasma just wanted to eat her chow and fall into bed, and not having to deal with any more paperwork was like a gift from the Force. "Setting course for main base now," she said as she punched in the coordinates.

"I'll see you when you land." Phasma could hear Lari's smile again.

"Over and out," Phasma replied, unable to help smiling herself.

––––

Lieutenant Lari Cerall was not the sort of person to sit and wait at the window for a lover, and yet here she was, sitting at the hangar bay window, waiting for Phasma's ship to come into view. Of course, a lot of things that she had thought about herself had changed since she was summoned into the conference room to find her name written on the arm of a strange woman. And not just any woman, but the infamous storm trooper leader, ostensibly their sworn enemy. They weren't enemies anymore though – no, the storm trooper captain had defected.

Lari had never imagined that the Phasma written on her arm was the same Phasma that was a leader in the First Order – she probably would have been a lot more careful about who she'd shown her soulmark to over the years if she'd suspected the truth. Also, the Lieutenant's expectations about the unknown specter of the infamous First Order Captain Phasma had nothing on Captain Phasma in real life, without her helmet on.

The Captain was physically striking, with intelligent, piercing eyes and pale hair cut to her shoulders. She was an effective commander, and obviously cared about her troops – much more than she cared about the First Order, otherwise none of them would have ended up there at the Resistance base. The woman also had a voice that would melt butter on a cold day – even if the Captain was laconic and didn't use it much, or not as much as Lari would have liked. The Rebel lieutenant intended to change that though. She'd noticed that none of the troopers seemed to talk much, so it was probably part of their training, and hopefully therefore something that could be trained out of them by concerted effort over time.

Lari had already discussed this issue with many of the Smudges – in fact, she had been ambushed all day by Smudges wanting to find out more information about the troopers. Not many of the Rebel soldiers had had direct interaction with the defected troopers, and they were hungry for information. Some of them had even tried to get her to ask her soulmate to give them permission to visit their trooper soulmates at the other bases.

She had laughed at that last request, but had sympathy for her fellow Smudges. She wished she could wave her hand and use the Force to give them all access to their soulmates immediately, but Lari knew that General Organa and Phasma had worked hard to set their plans in place, and it would be better to get the troopers settled before everyone went looking for their soulmates. Not even all the troopers' soulmates were here at this Rebel base – some of them were at other hidden bases sprinkled around the galaxy. Those poor Resistance soldiers would have to wait months or possibly even years before they could be transferred to this base or request that their soulmate be transferred to them.

"I mean, you've already waited years – what's another week to let your soulmate get comfortable first?" Lari asked persuasively. The Smudge in question would inevitably sigh but agree. And then the next Smudge would approach her, and the cycle would repeat. Poe Dameron had been in a similar situation – he and Finn had set up informal seminars to teach interested Smudges about how to help troopers adapt. So many people had been interested that they'd had to move to one of the storage bays to be able to fit everyone in.

Lari's ears caught a noise, and shortly it resolved itself into the hum of an approaching shuttlecraft. The TIEs sounded different from the Resistance fighters, she'd noticed, and so did the First Order shuttles from the Resistance ones. She sprung up from her seat and made her way out to the landing pad just as Phasma touched down and shut off her engines. The tall woman climbed down the short ramp to the ground, and Lari could see the exhaustion in the Captain's movements.

"Come on, let's get you fed and to bed," the Lieutenant said, grabbing one of Phasma's hands and pulling her inside the base.

"Yes, sir," Phasma answered, sounding amused but grateful.

It was late enough that there was no line in the mess hall, and this time Lari didn't try to wait and make Phasma choose something – she was far too tired for that, and it seemed like a hard thing for the troopers even on a good day. The other soldiers in the mess hall watched them as they passed, but Lari had a mission and wasn't interested in delays.

She walked right up to the counter, still pulling the Captain along behind her, and grabbed a single tray for them both. She ordered the most basic items, mashed potatoes this time with some vegetables. She added the meat gravy on her plate, but not on Phasma's – the captain could eat from hers if she wanted it, but judging by the Captain's vacant stare as they proceeded along the counter, and the way the troopers had felt about the main dishes at lunch, the trooper probably wouldn't feel like trying it.

Lari dragged them both to an empty table, set their tray down, and then guided Phasma to her seat. "Sit, eat," she commanded. The Captain nodded once and then picked up her utensil and began to eat while Lari walked over to pour themselves each a glass of water and carry it back. The Lieutenant had worried that she might have to keep reminding Phasma to eat if she drifted off again like she had been doing while Lari grabbed their food, but apparently her trooper soulmate was experienced at making herself eat even when you were so tired you couldn't see straight. Briefly Lari wondered how often the troopers had been worked that hard for Phasma to have developed a habit like this, but pushed it from her mind. She was tired too, and that sort of thinking would just make her angry, and for no real purpose, so it was not worth her time or energy right now.

Phasma was eating at a fairly steady rate, so Lari focused on clearing her own plate – she was pretty sure that letting Phasma fall asleep at the table would be a disaster, so she didn't want to give the Captain any downtime between when they each finished their plates. The trooper captain was more than a head taller than Lari, and the woman looked like she was all muscle under that armor, so letting her sit there for any length of time with warm food in her stomach and nothing to do was a very bad idea.

So when Phasma finished slightly before Lari, she asked if the Captain was still hungry and wanted seconds. The tall woman blinked at Lari like she'd momentarily forgotten that she was there, but then nodded and stood up, picking up her plate. The lieutenant then watched in surprise as the captain walked back over to the potatoes, held out her plate to accept another helping, and walked back to the table, all without uttering a single word. Phasma seemed to have an entire language that consisted of nothing but nods.

Actually, as she watched the tall woman navigate her legs over the bench to sit down, maybe Lari should be more surprised that Phasma made the entire trip without stumbling. Fortunately the rest of the dinner proceeded without incident, and Lari urged her soulmate to stand after she finally finished her plate. A friend of Lari's had offered to rack their dishes so she could get her soulmate to bed, having seen how tired the trooper was, so all Lari had to do was walk them out of the mess and back to her quarters.

It took them a little while to get Phasma out of her armor – luckily for them both, Phasma seemed to know all the internal clasps and buckles so well that she could undo them while half-asleep – and then Lari sent the captain to her in-unit bathroom to wash her face and get ready for bed. She pulled out some sleep clothes for both of them, and then pulled back the covers on the bed. When Phasma came out, looking only slightly more alert, Lari asked her if she wanted to sleep in the clothes she had on now, or fresh sleep clothes. In answer, Phasma stripped off her uniform in quick and practiced motions, and put on the clothes Lari was holding out – a violently blushing Lari, because by the Force that woman had muscles. Lari guided Phasma to the bed, and settled her in with a quick admonition to not sprawl everywhere.

Phasma, for her part, laid down on the far side of the bed on her back with her arms at her sides, nodded once, and then appeared to immediately fall asleep.

"Wow," Lari said aloud. "I guess I don't have to worry about you sprawling if that's how you sleep, huh?" She went to take care of her own bedtime routine, wondering just how small storm trooper bunks were if Phasma was conditioned to sleep that way.

Chapter Text

Lari woke the next morning to the most soothing sensation she'd ever experienced. She was pressed against something warm and someone was gently stroking her hair. She sighed in contentment and the warm thing underneath her shook lightly underneath her – wait, was that laughter? She blinked her eyes open and was met by an eyeful of her soulmate's chest. Had Lari been sleeping all night pressed against Phasma's chest? She lifted her head up and looked up at her soulmate's smiling face.

"Good morning," Phasma said, obviously amused by something – probably by Lari herself, come to think of it. The lieutenant half-grumbled and half-hummed in response.

This made Phasma chuckle again.

"Did you sleep well?" the Captain asked. She hadn't stopped smiling the whole time – Lari guessed this was probably the longest she had seen the trooper continuously smile since they'd met.

"Mmm," Lari started, voice scratchy from sleep, "well, I had this nice warm pillow to cuddle up against. But I'm wondering why my pillow is getting up so early." She grumbled the last bit into Phasma's chest, not wanting to spend the effort to hold her head up any longer. It was somewhere between comforting and mildly embarrassing to have Phasma be awake while Lari rested her head on the taller woman's chest, but she was also far too tired and sleepy to care right now, and was taking full advantage of that fact while she could.

Unfortunately – or maybe fortunately, Lari was having trouble deciding – Phasma's chest shook with laughter again. "It's actually not that early. It's nearly 0830 hours already."

Lari lifted her head up completely at that. "By the Force, woman – what time do you normally get up?? We went to bed around 0300. Five and a half hours is not a sustainable amount of sleep."

"Well today it has to be, because I have a meeting with General Organa in half an hour." Phasma seemed to find Lari's sleepy-and-disgruntled expression endearing, because before the Lieutenant knew it, the tall Captain had rolled her over so she was under Phasma, and then proceeded to nuzzle into the side of Lari's head and neck. The Resistance Lieutenant make an embarrassingly high squeak of surprise, before closing her eyes to revel in the sensation.

Just as suddenly as it started, the warm body pinning her to the bed disappeared. "Hey!" Lari spluttered, flailing on the bed ineffectually for a few moments. "You ... you can't just ... do that ... and then run off!" She untangled herself from the blankets and got up to chase after Phasma into the bathroom.

Phasma leaned up from the sink where she had been washing her face. "Why not?" she asked, water dripping all over while she reached for a towel.

Lari waved an admonishing finger towards the captain, while she tried to think of a reason. "I'll tell you when I think of a good argument," she said finally.

Phasma laughed into her towel – well, into Lari's towel, and Lari's tired mind briefly wondered what her towel would smell like now that her soulmate had used it twice. Would she be able to identify her smell? Lari shook her head and tried to focus on her soulmate's words.

"Well, you have all of breakfast to think about it." The captain left the bathroom and went to put on her uniform from yesterday, but Lari stopped her.

"No, that's dirty, and I requisitioned you have a new uniform already." Lari pulled out a new green leadership coverall, with the requisite white curving slash down the front, making it look like a gi top. "I checked the records for your size, so it should fit."

––––

With much coaxing, Phasma got both of them dressed and in the mess hall with enough time to eat. Just as they sat down, the captain's second-in-command, DV-3657, walked into the mess hall and then approached their table. The trooper saluted and came to attention.

"Good morning, DV-3657. Are you delivering your report?"

"Yes, Captain."

"Proceed – but I'm going to have to keep eating while you deliver it, because I'm late to a meeting after this."

"Understood, sir."

"So don't surprise me or make me laugh so I don't choke."

DV-3657 looked horrified at the very idea. "Never, sir!"

Lari intervened in the conversation. "Don't mind her, DV – she was actually joking, which I wasn't aware that she knew how to do."

"I'm a fast learner," said Phasma. She nodded to DV-3657, and asked her to proceed.

DV-3657 cleared her throat. "Sir, is ... she cleared to hear this?" she asked hesitantly, looking over at the Rebel Lieutenant.

"Oh, DV-3657, this is my soulmate, Lieutenant Lari Cerall, the person whose name is my soulmark," Phasma said, introducing the two of them. "Lari, this is DV-3657, my second-in-command of the defector's fleet." Phasma noticed DV flinch slightly at her name for the fleet, but honestly it's what they were, and they should probably all get used to it. "DV, you can reveal classified information to her when she is in my presence – honestly, I expect I'm going to be around her a lot and I don't want to have to send her away just to receive reports."

DV-3657 nodded. "Yes, sir," she acknowledged, and then proceeded to debrief the captain over the state of all the bases and both ship and trooper readiness.

"Very good," Phasma praised when the trooper had finished. "Now, is there anything else that might be urgent before my meeting?" When DV answered in the negative, Phasma excused herself, briefly taking Lari into her arms as a goodbye before striding out of the mess hall.

DV-3657 watched their exchange in fascination, noticing how Lieutenant Lari Cerall stared after Phasma as the Captain left the hall.

Lari looked up to find DV-3657 studying her intently.

"You're her soulmark?" DV-3657 asked curiously.

"Yes."

"And she's your soulmark?"

"That's right," Lari replied, wondering where this was going.

DV-3657 pondered this for a moment, then asked, "What's it like?"

The Lieutenant raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Honestly? It's even more amazing than I ever imagined it could be."

DV-3657's eyes widened appreciably. "Wow," she said, obviously impressed. "The Captain already seems different, and she's only been around you for what, less than twenty-four hours?"

Lari leaned back in her seat. "Yeah, I guess it hasn't actually been all that long yet, but it feels like I've known her for a lot longer."

"Amazing," DV-3657 said softly, half to herself. "I requested the data your base has on soulmarks to provide that to the- the defector's fleet, but I haven't had much time to read it all myself. What little I saw, though, sounds like it's an incredible symbiosis between two individuals."

Lari smiled at DV's nerdy monologue. "Have you or the other senior officers met your soulmates yet? From what I understand, you're the only ones that have been in direct contact with any of the Resistance forces on base."

DV-3657 shook her head with wide eyes. "None that I know of so far, besides the Captain, and actually I'm a bit nervous about that part. This is the first time I've been on base since we arrived." She looked around the mess hall anxiously.

"Can I ask you who your soulmark is?" Lari probed gently. She couldn't imagine anyone turning away this adorable cinnamon roll for any reason, and she personally knew every Smudge on base was dying to meet their soulmate.

DV-3657 shifted a little, hesitating at first, but then said in a low voice, "Jessika Pava."

Lari squealed in excitement before clasping a hand over her mouth to stop the sound, making DV-3657 jump slightly. Several heads turned to look at the two curiously.

"Sorry, I'm sorry," Lari blurted, touching DV's arm in an apologetic gesture. "But Jessika is one of my friends and I know she's going to be so excited to meet you."

The trooper shifted nervously, looking around the room at all the Resistance personnel staring at them, but didn't say anything in reply.

"Please, will you let me go get her so she can meet you? You don't even have to talk, but wouldn't you like to see who she is?"

DV-3657 did indeed look curious, and Lari knew she had her there – curiosity seemed to be this particular trooper's weakness, which she thought Jess would probably find endearing.

"Or better yet," Lari said, spotting someone she knew in the group coming through the door. "Hey Finn, over here!" She waved the man over, and Finn came trotting up to them.

"What's up?" he asked, eyeing the trooper. So far, he hadn't interacted much with the defectors – neither he nor the recently arrived troopers seemed eager to reacquaint themselves, and thankfully no one in leadership had been ordering him to. They seemed to be stuck in this weird state of limbo where all the troopers remembered him as a traitor, but now that they were in the same boat didn't know how to act. For Finn's part, he saw their uniforms as a reminder of all the unhappy experiences he'd had as a trooper, but though they were slowly changing he wasn't sure how to act around them.

"Finn, can you go get Jess? There's someone here I want her to meet," she said, glancing at DV-3657.

Finn understood immediately, but before he turned to go, DV-3657 spoke up.

"You're FN-2187," the trooper blurted, both her expression and tone of voice unreadable.

Lari realized her mistake and didn't miss the almost palpable tension between the two former first Order troopers, but before she could intervene, Finn diffused the situation himself.

"It's Finn now," he said firmly, but without any hint of challenge. "I have a name."

A whole flurry of emotions passed over DV-3657's face too quickly for Lari to identify what they were, but then DV's expression cleared, and she nodded once in acknowledgement. "Finn," she said, accepting the corrected designation.

Finn smiled, full and bright, and then turned to go get Jess. "I'll be right back," he called over his shoulder.

Lari smiled, watching him trot off, then looked down at the table. "Hmph, Phasma didn't clear her own dishes."

"Oh," said DV-3657, standing up, "I'll get it, just tell me where to take them." She listened intently as Lari explained what to do, then took the trays and empty containers to the mess hall clean-up station, where everything would be washed or recycled for materials.

When they returned to the table, DV-3657 was looking more and more nervous, so Lari worked on distracting her by asking about their routine at First Order bases or in their new temp base camps. Apparently DV-3657 had been assigned to Base 3 where her old unit had been stationed, the unit she'd been in before she'd been promoted to second-in-command of the fleet for this mission. At first it hadn't been anything unusual for the relatively low-ranked trooper to be suddenly promoted highly – the Captain was known for testing troopers' command ability by giving them admin or command roles on missions. DV-3657 had assumed it would be for a short duration mission, but now it appeared that it would be a more permanent command role. DV-3657 wasn't sure exactly what to think about that yet, so she tried not to, as a rule.

It didn't take long before Finn returned, trailing Poe and an obviously still-asleep Jess – apparently Jess had had the night shift but Poe had woken her up to attend his class, because no one did in the mornings, and that's how Finn had found them. Jess was still complaining about it as they all but carried her to the table. The two managed to get her seated on the bench and facing the correct direction, but as soon as they stepped back the woman bonelessly melted until she was sprawled across the tabletop.

DV-3657 was concerned. "Is she alright?" she asked, hands twitching with the urge to reach out and touch the woman in front of her.

Poe, just then realizing that there was a trooper at the table, held his hand out in introduction. "Hi, I don't think we've met – I'm Poe Dameron, X-wing pilot."

"And my soulmate," Finn added with a grin.

DV-3657 paused with her hand in half-extended and widened her eyes in surprise. "DV-3657, second-in-command of the defector's fleet. Captain Phasma is my commanding officer," she said, regaining her composure as she shook the pilot's hand.

Dameron lifted his eyebrows, impressed. "And what are you doing right now?" he asked, glancing over at the now softly snoring Jessika.

"Technically speaking I am going off shift. The Captain and I have opposite shifts – I have oversight at night – but we overlap at the beginning and/or end of our shifts for a debrief. Mostly it means that I check all the orders that Captain Phasma set in place the previous shift and make sure they continue according to schedule during her off hours."

Lari blinked in surprise, doing the math in her head. "How long are your shifts?? Covering the entire day with two people ...."

"Our shifts are normally 13 hours, but sometimes they get extended to 14 or 15 hours if there is a lot of work or an emergency situation."

Shaking her head in exasperation, the Lieutenant said, "That is way too long for a command shift. I can't believe-," she abruptly stopped herself, considering. "Wait, yes, actually I could 100% see Phasma setting up a work shift like that for herself, and I bet this defection situation falls under her 'emergency' classification. She definitely needs more sleep." She sighed.

"Sleep, yes," Jess mumbled into the table, apparently having drifted partly awake at some point during the conversation.

DV-3657 frowned down at the Resistance soldier in concern. "Why did you wake her up? If she's off-shift she should be sleeping."

"Yes, kriff," the exhausted woman groaned, with her eyes closed and her head still against the tabletop. "Whoever you are you're my new best friend and I love you," she added with feeling.

DV-3657's expression was a flashed from surprise to amusement to tenderness in quick succession as the other Resistance soldiers at the table burst into laughter, slapping Jess on the back with glee.

"Do you know who you just said that to?" Dameron crowed, still laughing.

"Ok ok, you troublemakers, I think we'll have to save the soulmate meeting for another time," Lari said, giving in to the inevitable. She moved over to take Jess' arm over her shoulder. "DV, come help me get her to bed."

DV-3657 nodded once in acknowledgement and moved with alacrity to put Jessika's other arm over her shoulders. They lifted her up off the table and half-carried her out of the mess hall, Poe and Finn still laughing occasionally – and for some reason Dameron kept winking at DV-3657, which the trooper did not understand at all. Perhaps it was some sort of secret Rebel signal?

Once they gotten a little ways down the corridor, DV-3657 asked, "So she's a pilot on night shift? When does her shift start?"

"We have three standard shifts for all assignments, but if she only just went to bed then she was probably on late shift, which runs from 2200 hours to 0600 hours."

DV-3657 considered for a moment. "That roughly coincides with my shift, but ... what does she do outside her shift? She's not sleeping the whole time is she?"

"Well, you should probably wait till you can ask her directly about her off hours activities," Lari replied with a grin, "but typically base personnel eat, go train or workout, or just relax."

The trooper was about to ask more questions about that – like what could someone even do when assigned 'relax' time, that didn't even make sense – when Jessika rolled her head over to rest it against DV-3657's shoulder. Thoroughly distracted from whatever she had been about to say, the trooper blurted out, "She smells really nice."

Lari glanced over at DV-3657 over Jess' head, and the trooper blushed and spluttered. They finally reached the pilot's quarters and set Jess down in her bed, then Lari said she had to go back to her duties.

"Sorry that I have to leave, but it was nice meeting you. Maybe you can try to get her into her sleep clothes? Bye!"

And with that, Lari was out the door.

"She was really in a hurry," DV-3657 said aloud to the room, where she was the only one listening. She looked over at her soulmark- soulmate, she corrected herself. "Aren't these already sleep clothes?" she wondered out loud, fingering the edge of Jess' sleeve. It certainly felt soft enough to be for sleep, and anyway, DV-3657 had no idea where in the quarters were more uniforms or clothes. It was certainly nothing like trooper barracks in here.

DV-3657 went to withdraw her hand from Jess' sleeve when the Rebel pilot wrapped her fingers around DV's forearm – and the trooper looked up in surprise to see that Jess was awake and looking at her.

Chapter Text

Jess mirrored the unknown trooper's expression of surprise. "Who are you?" Jess asked, groggily.

"I'm DV-3657, second-in-command of the defector's fleet, and Lieutenant Lari Cerall and I helped you back to your room because you were too obviously tired for us to leave you to your own devices." As she was talking, DV's eyes fell to where Jessika's hands had slid up to rest in the crook of the trooper's elbow, almost exactly over where Jessika's name was marked into DV-3657's skin. The warmth of the pilot's hands was surprisingly comforting and pleasant.

Jass Pava opened her mouth to ask why this DV been with Lari, or maybe to ask why the trooper used Lari's full name and rank, but then she noticed the way the trooper was fixated on her own arm, staring at it. "What is it?" she asked instead.

"It's ... your mark. It feels warm," she said simply, gesturing to where Jess' hands were on the trooper's sleeve. "My research into soulmarks hasn't revealed anything like that before."

"My soulmark? You mean your soulmark." She rubbed at DV's sleeve, and the trooper shivered slightly.

"I ... don't know? Who does the soulmark belong to – the person whose skin it's on, or the person whose name it is?"

Jess' brain made the connection and then seemed to freeze up. "Your mark ...," she trailed off, clutching at DV's sleeve. It couldn't be.

DV-3657 seemed to understand what the Rebel pilot was asking, and so she deftly unfastened the cuff and drew it up her arm. She held her arm out, wrist upward, toward Jess.

Jess reached for her name indelibly written on the trooper's arm with trembling fingers. When her fingers made contact, both women drew in a haggard breath. The Rebel pilot spent a few moments just brushing her fingertips over the letters of her name, lost in wonder.

After a while, DV-3657 cleared her throat softly. "You should probably get some more sleep," she said.

The pilot gave a non-committal hum, which to DV-3657 sounded like an acknowledgement, but then didn't make any move to disengage and her eyes were slowly drifting towards closed. DV smiled wryly, and proceeded to coax the sleepy Rebel into changing into sleep clothes. When finally dressed and situated though, Jessika refused to let go of DV-3657's sleeve.

"Jessika, you need to rest," DV-3657 was trying to insist.

Jessika grunted. "I'll sleep better with you here. Get in." She tugged again on DV-3657's sleeve, as if trying to bodily pull her into bed.

Finally DV-3657 sighed and began shucking her own uniform off. Jessika's eyes widened dramatically, and DV guessed that she might actually be awake. She didn't talk though, so DV-3657 proceeded to prepare herself for sleep, even though she didn't have any spare uniform here. Once her uniform and undersuit was fully removed – DV-3657 disliked the way it felt on her skin – she moved towards the edge of the bed where Jessika was still watching her wide-eyed. DV-3657 scooted under the covers and tried to find a space for herself on the small cot. There wasn't a lot of room, but neither she nor Jessika were very large so there should theoretically be enough room for both of them.

Once she'd wriggled into a comfortable position, DV-3657 asked, "Is this good?" When Jessika nodded, DV-3657 settled her head back onto the pillow and closed her eyes. Rebel bedding felt better than the pads they slept on back at the First Order base. She'd probably fall asleep quickly like this.

Jess sat there, still sitting fully upright on the bed next to her soulmate, still feeling shocked and – now that she'd seen her soulmate naked – completely wired. How could she sleep, when her soulmate looked like that and was completely comfortable getting into a bed with Jess? And apparently needed no time at all to fall asleep next to her. Indeed, DV-3657 was already breathing evenly and her face was slack, she'd fallen asleep almost as soon as she hit the pillow.

Jess didn't know what to do. Should she snuggle up to her? Jess really, really wanted to of course, but her soulmate was naked and while that was amazing and wonderful and wow, it was also counterproductive to sleeping. Jess sat there staring at DV-3657, before she forced her hands to unclench from the blankets. Careful not to disturb her soulmate, Jess slid back down so she was in a sleeping position, pulling the blankets over them both. She rolled slowly onto her side and laid her head down on the pillow so she was facing the sleeping DV-3657 – kriff, that was a mouthful. She was going to have to ask Dameron to give her the whole talk about helping the troopers find names again, because she had slept through the last one.

Despite the proximity to this beautiful woman who was her soulmate – it felt like Jess had spent hours just staring at her face – eventually Jess drifted back off to sleep.

––––

About a week after their arrival and integration into the Resistance, Captain Phasma and General Organa began their codenamed "soulmate rollout". Phasma found it hard to say or use the codename in a way that wasn't awkward, but the General liked mission names that were easily understandable and gave an idea of what the mission was about, and Phasma could accept that this name certainly fit the requirements, even if she still didn't understand this preference for names just yet.

As they had outlined in their mission plans, a random selection of troopers at each of their temporary bases would be – up to a set maximum number of troopers, because they couldn't have a significant portion of the personnel at any base occupied or distracted – allowed to meet their soulmates. There was a meeting area set up inside the Resistance base in some old storage rooms that had been repurposed for this goal, furnished with chairs and desks and information terminals as well as a few comfortable couches.

The assigned Rebel soldiers would be notified that their soulmate was there, and together the pair would pick out a name for the trooper. Technically, the troopers themselves should have been the ones to pick out their names, but since most of them had little experience with names and weren't really sure what to look for, the input from their soulmate proved invaluable. Also, since the nature of soulmates was that they were compatible personalities, the chances were very high that the named half of the pair would be able to help their soulmate choose a name that the trooper liked.

Once the unnamed half had chosen their name, the final confirmation would be when the smudge resolved into the trooper's new name. Naturally, this was a general cause for relief and celebration, and the Resistance leadership granted both halves of the soulmate a two-day rest period so they could get used to the situation – with the start of the rest period available to be moved to a different start date. There were only so many soldiers who could be on their rest period at the same time though, so they would have to put their name down on the list of requests if there were too many already on rest at the time.

Most soulmate pairs opted to take their rests right away, but some of the more nervous troopers wanted to keep working for a few days first while they got used to the idea that there was another living being out there that cared about them as a person. This was something that many of the troopers had never really experienced before, or it had happened to them so far in the past that they didn't really remember it anymore, didn't remember what it was like. Once they did get used to it, however, the large majority wanted to be in close contact with their soulmate, and so neary all of the troopers ended up taking their allotted rest days within at most a few days of their first meeting with their soulmates.

Some classes were planned to fix holes in the First Order training that the troopers had received, and teach them how to fight in a team with the Rebels. Often the soulmate pairs would attend the classes together, and there were a lot of requests for schedule shifts for each member of the soulmate pair to match up. New strategies involving soulmate pair fighters were also devised, trying to benefit from the synergy that members of a pair had with each other, for example in two-person ships with a pilot and gunner.

Other than a few cases of people with similar names to the actual soulmate, the process went smoothly – and often those cases found their actual soulmate was on the second list with a slight variation of their name (their birth name, for instance) that the First Order had not known about. And of course there were lots of Smudges whose soulmates were not among the fleet of defectors because they were on the second list. Those Smudges were very protective of the troopers that had arrived, and were very helpful in getting the existing pairs settled and comfortable. The requests or queries to Leia about what their plans were about the second list increased as more troopers found their soulmate on the other list.

Chapter Text

Back in the First Order, Troop Commander JC-4065 had been busy planning. Captain Phasma and the others from the first list – JC-4065 thought of them as 'first listers', because she understood the need for using a reference even if she had no idea how to come up with a good one – had been gone for months now, and the troop commanderhad officially been assigned to replace Captain Phasma, who had been 'lost' in the last mission, according to the official word. Despite the fact that JC-4065had now taken over the Captain's old position, she still somehow had maintained her closeness with the rank and file troopers, something that Phasma had lost when she'd climbed through the ranks.

From this rapport and by reading a little between the lines, JC-4065 learned that the rank and file knew that the official story for what happened to Captain Phasma was false, and that Phasma was somehow tied to the fate of the other troopers who had all been reassigned and gone missing around the same time. Of course, none of the troopers had any idea what had really happened to all of them – or at least, they knew better than to speculate in places where word of it would eventually filter up to JC-4065's ears.

However, the fact that such a thing was known was bad for troop morale, so JC-4065 had had her hands full keeping a handle on new missions and training regimen to keep them occupied instead of speculating. At the same time, Troop Commander JC-4065 had not slacked on Captain Phasma's final implied orders to her. She knew it was dangerous and maybe even impossible to use subterfuge to undermine the First Order from within when there was someone who could read minds sitting at the very top, but she had to try.

JC-4065 was no idiot though – she realized that an ability like mind reading had to have some distinct drawbacks. From what she'd been able to research, the ability was targeted at a single person and the force-user had to specifically choose that person. When JC-4065 was just a background trooper in a fleet full of troopers, it was unlikely that she would be singled out. Now that she was essentially the highest-ranking trooper in the First Order though, that increased her likelihood. One thing that she could do was to make herself as uninteresting and boring as possible, and she strived for operational perfection and/or blandness on all her actions. She shouldn't stand out, either good or bad, if she wanted to avoid attention.

Another thing JC-4065 had discovered was that there was a way to hide one's thoughts from a mind reader of this nature. For example, a mind reader could only read surface thoughts, so if the troop Commander sat thinking about how stupid and psycopathic General Hux was or about all her plans for troop training while she was in the presence of the mind reader, then even if her mind was read that's all that the mind reader would find out. So JC-4065 trained herself to not keep any potentially incriminating thoughts in her head, and instead put them all in charts and notes and reports that an organization like the First Order had in abundance. Essentially, she was hiding her actions in plain sight, and then removing them from her mind so she could think about other things, things which just happened to be her normal duties and responsibilities. It wasn't a perfect plan, but JC-4065 felt that it should work.

Probably.

From her calculations, they were running right on schedule to leave within two more months. She had some contingency plans to potentially ramp up the removal on short notice, in case General Hux decided he wanted to get rid of those second-list troopers before JC-4065's preparation schedule was complete. The troop commander also had some potential plans and ideas on forcing Hux to give such an order once all the preparations were complete, in the case that there was some sort of danger to the troopers in remaining with the First Order.

Since there was such a long planning cycle, and since JC-4065's own protection relied on her not thinking about her preparations, time seemed to move stranglely swiftly during those months of preparation. JC-4065 even found herself slightly surprised one day when she was planning forward to the next month and didn't find an entry for the next month on her second lister schedule. Well, it was nice to be ready. In a few more weeks, there would be nothing more to plan, and it would just be a waiting game – all JC-4065 would have to do would be to monitor trooper assignments for anything unusual. As she was the commanding officer for troopers, this was already part of her duties.

The very next evening was when General Hux summoned her to his private briefing room off the command bridge. Kylo Ren was nowhere to be seen, but that wasn't necessarily a good indicator, so instead JC-4065 counted the pips in the wall panels under the cover of her helmet, and wondered yet again which officials Hux must have bribed to get such a high rank when he was such a terrible officer. After letting the troop commander stand there ignored for a while – which JC-4065 presumed was supposed to make her feel unsettled, an idea that JC-4065 found laughable for various reasons – the General turned to address her.

"I trust you have read the late Captain Phasma's last report, Troop Commander," he said in his usual half-sneer.

Under her helmet, JC-4065's eyebrows rose. Had Hux read the report? It was an incredibly boring and dry document, which honestly had probably been done on purpose, and JC-4065 would be very impressed if this incredibly impulsive general had even read past the first paragraph. "Yes, General," she said expressionlessly.

"Then you are aware, Commander, of my final orders to the late Captain?"

"Yes, General," JC-4065 answered crisply. Taking the initiative to speak, so she didn't have to sit here playing question and answer, she asked, "Is this about the second list, sir?"

General Hux blinked in confusion. "Second list? What second list?" he asked, annoyed.

"The second list that Captain Phasma compiled before her last mission, sir," the troop commander clarified. "You had originally requested that the Captain provide you a list of names compared to soulmarks of known enemies of the First Order. The Captain did so, but she also appended an additional list to her report in anticipation of a possible follow-up mission similar to the first one. The vast majority of First Order troopers don't have soulmarks, or the mark is just a blur with no resolved words or names, but this second list is all the members of the First Order who have resolved names on their arms, but they are not known members of any enemy group, General." She spouted off the information crisply and completely, as if she were reading it off a terminal screen.

Hux seemed momentarily taken aback, but recovered. "I was unaware of the second list, but I do want to talk about how the Captain left the first time." He glanced at his monitor bank briefly, then continued speaking. "Our spies have found mention of a number of First Order ships in the hands of the Resistance. We believe that this means that some of Phasma's ... ghost fleet may have not actually been lost in the mission, but may have ... defected." Hux spat out the last word, as if it disgusted him.

JC-4065 was surprised – she hadn't expected that they would find any trace of the first lister fleet at all, that they would be more like the 'ghost' moniker that Hux used. "Sir?" she said questioningly.

"I want you to find them, Commander," General Hux snarled. "Find every last one of those cancerous defectors and then destroy them." Hux turned back to the bank of monitors, seething. "And when you're done destroying every member from the first list who escaped destruction, then I want you to continue with the second list," he finished, somehow still managing to have spittle flying as he spoke even when he was calm.

"Yes, General, I will begin immediately."

"Good. Dismissed."

The General hadn't even turned around to send her away, but JC-4065 saluted as perfectly as she always did, and then turned and strode out of the command bridge. When JC-4065 reached her office, she made note of the few items on the schedule that hadn't been completed yet for the second list, and then began making a new schedule – this one for the assembly of an extermination force.

When she presented her plans for the proposed mission to General Hux the next morning, the General seemed pleased, and immediately approved the entire mission plan – although JC-4065 was fairly certain he hadn't read it all the way to the end. He had skimmed the major points though, and had even suggested more heavy firepower than the troop commander had proposed. With the suggested edits to the plan in place, the troop commander was sent off with orders to work exclusively on this mission until its completion. She was also given the specific order that JC-4065 not start the mission until each command group was ready, so that way all units would start their hunt at the same time, giving their prey less time to warn each other ahead of time – which was a specific leading question that JC-4065 had asked the General. The success of her private second list mission would be much more likely if all of them started their journey at once.

This was an enormous operation, even bigger than Phasma's first list mission, and so it was impossible to have kept it under wraps for any appreciable length of time. Scuttlebutt about the mission ran the gamut, from a major invasion of the Resistance because the First Order had found their base, to a takeover of some galactic government so they could found a new Empire. Certainly the huge force that JC-4065 was assembling would need an equally massive assignment. However, unlike other massive offensives that the First Order had done, this one gave absolutely no explanation or potential target, which seemed to only stoke the growth of rumors. A couple times, JC-4065 heard rumors reach her about Phasma's fleet, and that this operation might be related – both missions were masked in unusual secrecy, although this one was more than double the size of Phasma's last mission.

Since the troop commander was the one assigning all regular personnel to the mission, JC-4065 made sure to have all the ground troops, pilots, and support staff come from the second list and only the second list. She couldn't do that with the most senior members of the fleet, because the fleet would include ships that required more high-ranking officers than found within the second list. That meant JC-4065 would have a much more effective fighting force than what Captain Phasma assembled, but she would also have enemies among them and in command of their ships. The troop commander would have to be exceedingly careful about all information she gave to those non-list officers, which of course necessitated that essentially no one but her and General Hux knew what the purpose of the mission was, although she was sure that a few of the higher ranking officers had figured it out, since they may have heard Hux mention that they needed to eliminate defectors in one of his many rants on the command bridge.

Though JC-4065 hadn't predicted this type of massive combat operation, her preparations for the departure of the second list had made the preparations for this new mission easier, and she was able to report her near completion to General Hux within a surprisingly short amount of time.

"General, sir," the troop commander said crisply with her salute. When the General acknowledged her, she continued, "The mission fleet is at 95% readiness, and will be launching simultaneously from all assembly points in three days' time, sir."

General Hux seemed extremely pleased. "Excellent work, Commander. When you have reported the success of this mission back to me, I think you could use a promotion," he informed her with what JC-4065 assumed was supposed to be a smile but was still at least half sneer. "After you have eliminated these enemies of the First Order from the galaxy."

"Yes, sir," JC-4065 responded immediately, making herself sound eager. It wasn't a lie really, she was actually eager, although for a brief moment she wondered that she would be taking on the same rank that Captain Phasma had, and her thoughts turned sad.

A deep voice started to speak behind the troop commander, and she had to stop herself from visibly startling.

"Why are you giving out this promotion, General?" Kylo Ren asked in a deceptively soft voice, as he walked around JC-4065 to stand in front of Hux.

JC-4065 definitely didn't need to fake her terror of the new Supreme Leader – nearly everyone, including General Hux, feared or hated Kylo Ren. JC-4065's eyes fixated on the mole on Ren's cheek. As Hux responded to Kylo Ren, she briefly wondered if the mole was why Kylo Ren had wanted to use a helmet originally – not that JC-4065 thought it looked bad or distracting, but some people could be weird about looks. All this practice running thoughts through her head the whole time gave JC-4065 a second line of thinking automatically, and in her mind she postulated on how helmets helped troopers not be worried about their looks and potentially helped maintain trooper morale, and how morale for the officer class could potentially also be improved by introducing helmets among the officer class. The troop commander's eyes dropped to Ren's mole again, and she mentally opined that it wasn't overall, a bad-looking mole, and that there probably existed people in the universe who thought such marks were even socially desirable. It's a good thing the First Order wasn't worried about things like-

Kylo Ren's face twitched, and he dismissed the troop commander. "Good luck with your mission, Commander." Ren turned back to his conversation with General Hux.

"Thank you, Supreme Leader," JC-4065 said, saluting. "I will find every last one of them." She turned and walked from the room, going over the final 5% of the preparations still pending in her head repeatedly until she returned back to her office. She half-collapsed into her desk chair, thanking whatever powers in the universe existed that meeting hadn't gone any worse than it did.

Three days later, the extermination fleet left port from countless assembly points all over First Order territory, setting course for their mission destination. This time however, the fleet consisted of much more than single-person fighters and troop transports – they had plenty of those of course, but they also had cruisers and every class of gunship up to and including a Star Destroyer. They only had a single Star Destroyer, but their Destroyer was also where all of the non-lister and potential problem officers were assigned. All other ships had crew complements entirely from the second list, and had been supplied with a message to all ship's captains about the nature of this mission and their follow-on mission once their primary mission was complete.

JC-4065 had researched the people in command of all these ships, and thought that she had a pretty good shot of having all of them go along with her plans. Especially considering that each of them would be terminated for no other reason than because General Hux wanted it, once they returned from their extermination mission. It wasn't completely certain, and Troop Commander JC-4065 wouldn't know how successful the plan had gone until each ship checked in with the confirmation code at the rendezvous point.

The Star Destroyer, however was another matter, and for that situation they would need to mutiny. Each unit commander for all of the non-leadership personnel onboard the Destroyer was given the same recording as the other second listers, but any soldier stationed next to the bridge was given secondary orders, to be reviewed on their first break while in hyperspace, about how exactly the bridge takeover needed to proceed. Since a whistleblower was a danger while they were still assembling, JC-4065 had had to use pre-recorded messages to each person participating in the mutiny and just hope that each person would agree and take part in the offensive as requested. It was incredbly uncertain how it would play out, but JC-4065 had to rely on the combination of troopers' self-preservation instincts (and potentially feelings of betrayal towards the First Order for their summary dismissal) and their ability and willingness to follow explicit instructions given to them by a superior officer (JC-4065).

When all forces had completed the up to eleven-hour hyperspace journey to the rendezvous, it was eerily quiet. JC-4065 herself was on a frigate, the largest ship in the fleet after the Star Destroyer, that had been one of the first units to arrive at the rendezvous, and she was sitting on tenterhooks, nervously waiting for success codes from each fleet unit. It was possible that some of the units that did not wish to follow JC-4065's plan would drop out of hypespace early at some unknown intermediary point, so the troop commander did not expect that anyone who disagreed with her plans would actually arrive at the rendezvous.

As more units arrived, JC-4065 could feel some of the tension ebbing away, although it wasn't until some of the acceptance codes started to come in that she felt like this honestly might work. Due to the danger that the Star Destroyer represented, JC-4065 had purposefully ordered it to the assembly point that would take the longest to arrive at the rendezvous point, so that way should things go to hell, the other ships in the fleet would already be ready to evacuate to the pre-planned secondary rendezvous, which had been transmitted to each ship once their acceptance code had been received on the command frigate. Finally, after all the acceptance codes had been tallied, JC-4065's first officer confirmed that they had received the acceptance code from all ships except for the one Destroyer. JC-4065 exhaled sharply in relief. The biggest potential hang-up was yet to come though, and the tension in the set of her shoulders ramped back up as the seconds ticked by. With five minutes before the expected arrival window, JC-4065 gave the order to prepare for evacuation.

While ships were still calculating their evacuation jumps, the Star Destroyer suddenly arrived, and everyone on the waiting ships held their breath.

Chapter Text

Aboard the Star Destroyer Apocalypse, the commanding officer, First Fleet Admiral Jaxe Webben received the confirmation from the first navigator that they had arrived at the assigned rendezvous point. He acknowledged this, and then looked out at the view ports at the assembled fleet – it was certainly a lot more than there had been at the nowhere outpost assembly point they had been assigned too. His bridge crew seemed tense, but that was understandable considering that so many of them were lower ranking than a ship like this might otherwise have. The Admiral pondered how many similar fleets must have been assembled to reduce his own crew so much. He didn't see another Star Destroyer amongst this particular fleet.

Admiral Webben was distracted enough with his thoughts that he didn't notice at first that there was a squad of troopers approaching the bridge – it was the bridge guards shifting the grip on their weapons tighter that made him realize. None of the bridge guards had done more than grip their weapons tighter, but it was unusual for troopers to approach command without orders, so he turned to address them.

––––

Shock unit leader TR-2213 could see the Admiral getting suspicious and tried to get as close as she could before she dropped out of the trot that was the customary trooper pace when in between duty positions. The shock unit didn't make it as close as TR-2213 would like, but rather than allow the Admiral to start giving orders, she made the hand-signal to fire at their targets when she saw the Admiral open his mouth to speak.

The newly arrived shock unit troopers and the bridge guards all fired their weapons at the command officers nearly in unison – all targets fell to the bridge floor, stunned. TR-2213 lowered her blaster and assessed the situation. Once she quickly confirmed that all targets were subdued, she turned to the next highest-ranking person on the bridge and saluted.

"Sir, all hostiles have been disabled."

The new commanding officer returned the trooper's salute, and ordered the guards to carry them to the brig, as per Troop Commander JC-4065's orders. Then he turned to the comms operator.

"Please send the acceptance code to the command frigate with the all-clear."

"Yes, sir."

––––

The comms operator on the command frigate on the straightened at their terminal.

"Sir," he said, smiling as she turned to face JC-4065. "The Star Destroyer Apocalypse has sent the acceptance code, no casualties reported."

Quiet sounds of nervous relief rippled around the bridge and JC-4065's shoulders finally relaxed from their previous tension.

"All units, stand down. Inform the command crews that the planned meeting will begin in two hours."

"Aye, sir."

––––

Over the next few days, while the impressive fleet floated in space, scouts were sent to various potential contact points across the galaxy. They may have had all the exact plans of what Captain Phasma was planning to do, but they didn't know where or how to contact her after they'd left, partly because even the Captain herself hadn't known where she would end up. The best JC-4065 and the second listers could do was check out all the locations Phasma had left in her report, and any of the new intelligence that JC-4065 had gotten before their departure.

In checking various of the old locations, they found that some were obviously taken over by the First Order already, with patrols and checkpoints. The scouts simply made note of those locations, gave their call signatures as part of the extermination fleet mission, and then left. It seemed that the First Order didn't sit around on their hands once they'd identified Resistance locations. While finding so many places overrun by First Order forces was disheartening for JC-4065, it did assist them in gathering intelligence – the First Order outposts helpfully provided all their survey data, as they had been ordered to in preparation for the extermination mission, not knowing that this fleet was now another force of defectors.

––––

General Leia Organa was having her weekly integration progress meeting with Phasma and her officers. Most of the work had died down to just planning for the next major restructuring, which would involve sending parts of the defector fleet to other Rebel bases. One of the ways that the Rebels had so far managed to avoid destruction was to scatter themselves around the galaxy to make the First Order's job of finding them that much harder. They didn't want to put all their eggs in one basket, and right now this particular basket was overflowing.

Captain Phasma had been resisting so far, because she didn't like the idea of splintering her forces into small groups. She argued that they'd be much better able to defend themselves or counter attack if they had such a strong force on hand. Continually running away and hiding wouldn't do anything except delay their destruction – she insisted they needed to strike back at the First Order to win this war. The two leaders argued back and forth, with others occasionally adding in, but Leia was slowly convincing Phasma to come around to her viewpoint. Mostly this was because the force that Phasma had arrived with consisted of almost entirely of ground troops, and they needed heavier firepower and air support to be an effective fighting force.

Just when Leia figured that they should stop the meeting for the day, a messenger ran into the conference room. "General, we just got word back from one of our spies. They said it was urgent." At the General's nod, he handed the datapad to her.

"The second list seeks the first," she read.

Phasma immediately rose to her feet. "When did they get this? Who sent it?" she demanded.

Leia looked at the messenger, and he answered, "I think within the last twelve hours, Captain, which is roughly the amount of time it took for this message to reach us – I'm pretty sure this was an immediate send."

"Do you think this is really the second list, Captain?" her second-in-command, Dana Virai (formerly DV-3657) asked, sounding simultaneously thrilled and worried.

"I don't know – we won't know until we see them." Phasma turned to face General Organa. "General, do you want us to attempt to make contact to verify their identity? Or would you prefer your forces do that?" The Captain paused for a moment before adding, "It's possible that they have realized our deception and are hunting for us now."

"I understand that – but when I first heard about you, I had a good feeling that you were the real thing, and now I have a good feeling about this, too. I think we can trust this report."

Captain Phasma nodded, not questioning Leia's instincts. "What are your orders then, General?"

Leia smiled wryly. "I think you should do whatever it is you think you should do."

Nodding again, Phasma said, "Then I'll be taking my personal ship."

"And an escort, sir," Commander Virai added, brow furrowed slightly.

"And an escort," Phasma acknowledged, lips twitching upwards. "Assign them to me, Commander, and have them ready to fly in one hour."

––––

PX-2284 was bored. He'd been told to scout and make contact, so he had scouted and made contact, but now he was just waiting, and he hated waiting. His copilot, LL-3182, was peeling one of the strange fruits they had bought here by trading away one of their mission patches – who knew why the locals wanted a mission patch, but they did – and had just taken a bite. Apparently the fruit was bitter, and PX-2284 laughed at his copilot's expression. They hadn't previously been allowed to exchange goods with outsiders before, so this was a new experience for the both of them.

Suddenly their ship proximity alarm announced that some vessels had just come out of hyperspace nearby, and the two jumped off the crate they'd been resting against and ran to the ship. They were hidden from surface scans in the wide cave, but the supposed Rebel contact had told them to wait inside the cover of the cave until it was safe. They dove into their seats and strapped in, waited with bated breath. Would it be friends or foe? Finally the same Rebel ship sent the all-clear, and the two former First Order pilots breathed a sigh of relief and initiated take off.

"Do you see that?" LL-3182 asked as they finally left the cave and were able to scan what ships were overhead. "Those are TIEs and X-Wing Fighters, in formation," she said in awe.

Just then, a viscerally familiar voice piped through on comms. "Ship at position 29977 - 35261, identify."

Fortunately the comms were not automatically activated in the cockpit because PX-2284 swore loudly in surprise.

––––

JC-4065 had just come back on duty when scans reported ships approaching, some with Resistance configuration. The scouting unit immediately reported back contact success, and then one of the ships hailed the command frigate.

"Display," JC-4065 responded when the comms said the signal was video.

An image of a silver-armored trooper appeared over the holo projector, and a familiar voice said, "First list seeking the second. This is Fighter ID Y27676, fleet command frigate identify."

Smiling under her helmet, she replied instinctively, "This is command frigate Cyclops ID Q77528, commanding officer Troop Commander JC-4065."

"It's good to see you again, Commander," Captain Phasma responded, the smile in her voice obvious. "I didn't know if I would."

"I didn't know if we'd ever make it out here, Captain, but we finally did. Would you prefer to receive my report in person, sir?"

"Yes, send us the docking coordinates – all but one of my escort will accompany me. One will return to base to report."

"Acknowledged, Captain. Sending coordinates."

One of the X-wings peeled off and then jumped back to light speed, and the rest of the single fighters approached the docking bay they'd been sent to. JC-4065 reached the bay as Captain Phasma was eyeing the fighters docked there. A couple units of troopers who had probably been patrolling nearby had lined up in impeccable formation to greet the Captain. Everyone knew what Phasma represented to them, now that they were bereft of an organization and were desperately hoping she could find them a home.

"Quite a fleet you've assembled, Commander," the Captain commented. "I didn't think you'd manage to get away with this much fire power at your disposal."

"Well, we were ordered to find and destroy the first list, and General Hux seemed to take it personally that not all of you were destroyed, so he may have erred on the side of too much firepower, sir." Captain Phasma just turned to face the commander without saying anything, and so JC-4065 cleared her throat. "I realize how strange that sounds, when we didn't just blast you out of the sky when you first appeared, so perhaps we should just move immediately to the debriefing."

Phasma nodded. "That would probably be best," she said, gesturing JC-4065 to lead the way.

"Yes, Captain. This way."

Chapter Text

After the surprisingly short debriefing – there hadn't actually been all that much important information to impart – Captain Phasma introduced the various Resistance officers that had accompanied them, and then started to talk about how to get the troopers to adjust to being outside the First Order. The first task was that all the helmets needed to come off. JC-4065 froze while the first list troopers and the Captain herself took off their helmets. She'd never seen the Captain without her gear – most troopers didn't see each other out of uniform unless they were in the same squad and had to share bunks – and was surprised to see what she looked like underneath.

But Captain Phasma was smiling. That helped JC-4065 overcome her nervousness, and she removed her helmet as well. She swallowed, and then passed along the orders that troopers in the presence of non-fleet should remove their helmets. It was weirdly terrifying to be so exposed, even with friendly forces.

Before they were done with a broad overview of the plans for integrating this new fleet of troopers, one of the Rebel officers received a distress call from a nearby base being attacked by the First Order. Phasma and JC-4065 shared a look, then threw their helmets on and ran to the bridge. When JC-4065 tried to defer to Phasma, the Captain shook her head and told the commander that she was in command, stepping off to the side to observe

Troop Commander JC-4065 made a quick decision and decided to dispatch a portion of her forces to respond, including her command frigate. They jumped through hyperspace the short distance to the battle scene, and found the Resistance fighters slowly being pushed back, with their base retreat pinned down on the surface so they couldn't take off. Treating it as if these were suspected first listers, JC-4065 deployed her fighters and hailed the First Order ships with her ID and mission code – which would most likely show as outranking whatever mission this was – and demanded that they surrender, calling them 'enemies of the First Order'.

JC-4065's fleet was bigger, so although the commanding officer seemed confused, he had no choice but to cease his attack and stand down. She ordered all communications blocked, then boarded the command vessel, demanding to be shown their mission orders as soon as she was on board. She then declared their mission 'illegal' and 'treasonous', and then had all participating troopers and pilots arrested. There weren't enough free fighter pilots and crew to control the newly acquired vessels, so she asked Captain Phasma to send word to the Rebels down on the surface that there were some empty ships up here that needed pilots, eventually having to call in the Star Destroyer to hold the extra fighters and smaller ships.

Between Phasma and JC-4065, they figured out a plan to incorporate the rank and file troopers into their current forces. Nearly all of them had stood at attention and saluted Captain Phasma, and when questioned briefly they were shocked and confused that Phasma was with the Rebels now, but did not hesitate to follow her orders despite this. It seemed that they might be able to continue to recruit troopers even from outside the First Order. However, the officers they planned to keep holed up in the brig until they could be transferred to Rebel detention facilities for more thorough questioning. Neither JC-4065 or Phasma expected that such senior officers, especially non-storm troopers who had never had much loyalty to Phasma personally, would follow Captain Phasma's orders as well.

In the meantime, the Rebels below on the surface gratefully got in contact with the second lister fleet, and after taking care of the wounded and then assessing the situation on the ground, determined that the base was beyond salvaging even if the assault on it had been halted. They had already heard about the defectors through official channels and also the network of smudges – the rumor had spread faster than a hyperspace jump – so they weren't as surprised by the idea of an apparent fleet of First Order ships assisting them. On contacting JC-4065's command vessel, they decided to retreat into the fleet above. JC-4065 didn't have many vessels capable of landing on the surface, but ordered her troopers to assist in the evacuation where possible. The most seriously injured were transferred to the more advanced medical facilities on the Star Destroyer, and they left to go back to the rest of the fleet, now significantly more crowded with prisoners and ships.

Captain Phasma thought it best to return to to the Rebel base at D'Qar with only the surviving commanding officers from the Rebel evacuees and just a select few of the second list officers, leaving the rest behind. She knew the base at D'Qar was significantly smaller than what would be required to hold this many soldiers, and having a force that large sitting in orbit overhead was like posting an enormous flashing sign with 'Rebel Base Here', so they would have to remain behind in their rendezvous point in space.

Also, Phasma had a suggestion with what to do.

"The second list has just gotten here, and you already want to send them out to fight?" General Organa asked incredulously, after Captain Phasma had explained her plan.

JC-4065 nodded her head. "I agree with the Captain. We're already organized and we haven't been that long at our mission that we would require a break. It would make more sense if we use this opportunity to attack, and before our lack of updates to First Order headquarters draws suspicions about our real activities."

"Well. That's true," Leia hedged. "But we could organize this with the forces here to bolster and support the second fleet."

Phasma made a negating gesture with one hand. "No, if we have any visible Rebel forces with us it will immediately give the game away."

"You're right, but I meant as strike teams that could take over the ships once you've gotten them clear of First Order support."

They argued well into the afternoon but finally settled on a strategy that they thought would work the best, given the situation.

"Be ready for a fierce fight as soon as they figure out what's going on – I'm guessing they're going to be extremely mad about it. And Captain? Good luck." Leia gave Phasma's arm a reassuring squeeze in farewell and stepped back as Captain Phasma and the others boarded their ships.

––––

Admiral Doyil Arcturus stood on the bridge of the Star Destroyer Retribution feeling restless and strangely useless. He had no logical reason to feel that way, considering that he was the commanding officer of a karking Star Destroyer and had life-and-death control over thousands of troopers, but he had been ordered to stand ready and since then hadn't been allowed to do anything. His orders were to be ready to assist in case a secret mission (that no one would explain to him) sent a secret coded message. He'd been given no other details, nothing else to do while they waited. It was frustrating how in the dark he'd been kept. He had a right to feel restless about that.

Of course, he and several of the other high ranking First Order officers had speculated that it either had to do with Captain Phasma's missing fleet, or with the big mission that one new storm trooper commander was running. For his part Doyil couldn't imagine that he, an admiral, would ever have to sit waiting for an order to move from a mere Commander, and a storm trooper at that, so he expected it had to be some other reason. Possibly the same reason that so many bases had been stockpiling supplies for months. Surely that meant the First Order had learned the location of the main Rebel base and were preparing an assault?

His restless thoughts were interrupted by the comms officer.

"Sir, we're picking up a message on the designated missions channel, and-" the comms officer abruptly cut off, tilting their head to the side with a frown.

"Well? Spit it out, what is it? Are we to move?" Admiral Arcturus growled. The idiot should know better than to stop in the middle of the message.

"Sorry sir, the message is ... strange. Not what we were told to expect." Seeing the Admiral's scowl, the comms officer hurried on. "They're ordering us to stand down for inspection, that they've tracked a transmission to this ship that they believe indicates a spy." The comms officer gulped nervously.

"Inspection? Us? How ridiculous!" The Admiral had just opened his mouth to continue his rant when he was interrupted again.

"They have given mission authorization code 627MXR and it checks out, sir. Highest clearance."

"Highest clearance?" Admiral Arcturus repeated. That was the same authorization level that the Supreme Leader used. Was He here? The Supreme Leader himself? The Admiral pushed his shoulders back and straightened his stance. That was indeed the level of authority that he thought should be giving him, Admiral Doyil Arcturus, direct orders – pretty much no one else should be authorized to do so. "Very well," he said. "Proceed"

"Aye, sir."

Admiral Doyil Arcturus was shocked and confused mere minutes later when a storm trooper in distinctive silvered armor walked onto the bridge. So shocked that he only stood there gaping like a fish, eyes bulging in anger, as a trooper wearing the exact same armor as the missing Captain Phasma shot him with a stunner in the middle of the command bridge. He fell unconscious.

––––

"That's another one successfully seized, Captain," JC-4065 reported in the debriefing later. "Zero casualties, all prisoners recovered intact and an increase in our forces of approximately 26,000 personnel."

"I still can't believe that they assigned this many backup fleets to assist yours, and all slightly smaller. It's like they're trying to give us the entire First Order military one fleet at a time," Phasma said wonderingly.

JC-4065 colored slightly. "Well, uh, that might be my fault."

Captain Phasma and several of the Rebel officers that were assisting them with the mission all turned to face JC-4065.

She gave a grin, even though her face got even redder at all the attention directed her way. "I was ordered to see to all aspects of the planning, after all."

Phasma smirked in response. "Yes, you wouldn't want to shirk your duties." She clapped JC-4065 on the shoulder in congratulations and then turned to face the others. "Alright, I think we can do one more for today before we need to give everyone a rest. We still have Team E ready to go?"

"Yes, Captain," Rodro said. He'd volunteered to assist as the strike team organizer since he happened to be on base at the time they'd decided to launch this assault, and his crew was experienced in disabling and commandeering ships. "We had to pull some extras from elsewhere and we'll be a little short-handed in certain sections of the ship, but we have enough crew to take over the bridge at least."

"Alright, we are green. To your stations, people."