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A pale moonlight peeked through the gaps in the trees, basking the newly formed campsite in its gentle glow. A light, almost warm breeze coaxed their leaves into fleeting dances, swaying to their own tune as they rustled against one another and cast a resonating sound into the air, almost like a soothing lullaby.
Each ray of light washed over all it touched, painting them in silver, though not the one already adorned in the same shine, the blonde locks reflecting a cooler tone, her skin akin to porcelain, cracked along the nose and cheek, as if she was dropped by careless hands.
Almost as if in fear of her own hands being the same, the blonde allowed her fingertips to lightly graze the cheek of her subordinate’s face, meeting her gaze as her hand pulled away. Those brown eyes that the captain began to appreciate welled up, becoming glassy with newly formed tears, threatening to spill over and roll down the same cheek Phasma had touched. With them blatantly not being a sign of contentedness, which the superior could tell by the deepening frown on the other girl’s face, the very same hand made its way to rest on the other woman’s knee, accompanied by words spoken for the first time in a little while.
”Talk to me, Maple…”
It was not often that the captain treated her with this amount of tenderness. The way she spoke so softly, as if caressing each syllable of her name. Not her operating number. Her name. And that hand on her knee.. Her touch so sure and unafraid.
More tears pricked at her eyes until they finally fell. Her slightly puffed lower lip quivered, particularly with her quiet attempts to force out words past the lump that had formed in her throat.
”I… I just.. He’s gone..” She finally choked out the words, her eyes dipping, averting her gaze from the other woman. But after that barely coherent string of words amongst harsher weeping, more followed in suit, a flood of emotions, like a forgotten tap left running. Barely concealed sobbing, just enough to not wake up their sleeping captive Rebel.
”He was one of my closest friends, I just… I can’t..”
A frown of her own crept onto the captain’s face, only merely cracking through the sorrow that darkened her gaze. A solemn appearance was the only thing she could keep on her face as her soldier continued to break down before her. There were no words of comfort she could offer. She would only be lying if she said that it would be alright, because it wouldn’t. But she couldn’t sit there either, hand on her knee and just watch the other cry herself to bits.
Huffing a quiet sigh, she retracted her hand again, though it moved to hesitantly land on the other’s shoulder, giving it a small squeeze.
”We have lost a lot of people today. It is the reality of war, though I must admit that… this has been one of the more devastating crashes I’ve experienced…”
With a brief pause, she swallowed hard, forcing down the building pressure in her own throat. Forbidding it from rising and resurfacing her own grief.
”I’m going to miss him, too…”
Hearing the ever so strong, ever so valiant, ever so stoic Captain Phasma’s voice quiver was no common occurrence. Nor was the sadness laced in her voice, nor the unusually hard swallow, clearly shovelling down what might’ve been a similar breakdown and burying it. But her words, her raw, human emotions, the hand on her shoulder, the sheer misery in her gaze…
With a strangled, barely stifled sob, Maple shifted, slightly twisting her torso, so she could lean against Phasma. Her pillar of support at that moment. She leaned against her and rested her forehead against the chrome shoulder plate, allowing herself to silently break down once more. Well, at least silently enough to avoid waking the third woman.
Phasma’s arm was somewhat faster to move to wrap around the smaller woman, in a halfway embrace, accompanied by even, controlled breathing, in hopes of helping her comrade relax, in a way. Though, not every breath was smooth and level. A couple of sharp, shaky inhales snuck their way into that pattern, betraying Phasma’s composure. Her own grief.
…
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…
It seemed like an absolute eternity had passed as Rey slept. As if whole days had passed, and the dawn’s brighter, more cheerful light assaulting her eyes was not making that feeling better. However her eyelids did not open. Not yet. She wasn’t ready.
First it was her hearing to come back, picking up more of the quiet rustling of leaves and plants in the breeze, swaying and intertwining with one another in the gentle, morning draught, the scurrying of the occasional animal rushing through the undergrowth, the crackling and popping of… fire.
Her sense of smell was next to come back, and the stench of burning wood, of smoke, caused the young woman to grimace. The attack on her nose immediately stung and forced out a few coughs from her which definitely did not serve as a happy awakening. And as her face scrunched up, her eyes rapidly blinked open until they tried to adjust to the morning light. Only then did she properly awaken.
God, that sleep did nothing… She still felt so. Fucking. Tired. Her body seemed to feel at least twice as heavy, as if she still carried the exhaustion from the day prior, all of yesterday’s misery, stress, and chaos. Her stomach churned with a deep nausea, and she had to steady herself upon a false notion that she’d actually begin to vomit.
After a few long, long seconds, Rey managed to adjust to the lighting, and focus her vision, only to see the fire she heard and smelt. Beside it was the same woman she remembered saving from a seizure, alone. Alone? Rey could’ve sworn she remembered seeing Phasma with her, but why she wasn’t there, she couldn’t care to know. All she did know was that this unnamed soldier was the one who shot her.
Sitting properly upright, the woman's gaze narrowed into a glare as she observed the trooper occasionally tossing more sticks into the fire. And then she was spotted; the trooper soon caught sight of her and shifted her position.
”Good morning.”
Lord, it infuriated her… The way those pretty burgundy waves sat so nicely, unlike her own dishevelled brown hair, and how she could spot a small smile pinching the corners of the trooper's lips. Why, if not to mock her?
A deep ache began to gnaw at her chest, swelling and coiling within itself. It rose within her body, burning her insides as it gradually began to engulf her entire being, forcing her face to darken with a foul glare. She locked eyes with the other woman, oddly relishing in the slight anxiety that became visible in her face.
”What?” The Rebel spat, her tone soon shifting to a sneer. ”Are you that fearful without your captain there to hold your hand?”
But as quickly as that nervous expression appeared on the other’s face, it vanished, a mildly disgruntled one replacing it.
”No. And I don't care what a little girl has to say about me.”
Absolutely not. She wasn’t about to get insulted by First Order scum.
The bubbling, boiling rage within her quickly grew to become unbearable. And, in a sudden burst of energy, she hauled herself onto her feet, albeit unstable, and lunged forward, aiming her upper body downward, towards the other woman. Upon their bodies making contact with one another, Rey grappled the subordinate’s torso and tackled her onto the ground, disregarding the sudden cry of surprise forced out of her, until the rebel was straddling the soldier’s hips. That was when she began beating that damn girl’s head, taking advantage of her not wearing her helmet.
The flurry of punches beating down upon her head initially stunned the stormtrooper, leaving her laying there yelping at each fist pounding against her face. Her own hands shot up and offered brief protection as the next rain of fists came into contact against her gauntlets. Just that second, that brief yet precious second, was what Maple needed to shoot her knees up to her chest, as much as her armour would allow, and bring her feet onto the Rebel’s stomach. She then pushed hard. Hard enough to finally shove the other woman off of her and send her tumbling back near the tree she had slept against.
She sat up, simultaneously gasping, shuffling backwards, and reaching a hand to grip onto a pistol clipped to her belt. Backing as far away as she could while the Rebel also sat up, clearly readying herself for another brawl.
”I wouldn’t do that, if I were you.”
Whipping around at the sudden yet familiar voice, Rey quickly caught sight of the captain returning, helmet and all this time. But while just the sight of her alone was certainly enough to deter her from acting out again (for now), she shot the nastiest glare she could muster at the chrome clad soldier who… was holding a bird. A live bird. Her eyes quickly darted to the trooper she had just beaten, stealing a glimpse at her own baffled expression adorning her now bruising face. But just seeing the large animal confused the younger woman enough to frown as she.. stared at it. A pelikki, if she was right.
”...what’s that for..?”
Phasma then froze as she tightly held the bird in her arms, her grip constricting around its wings to prevent them from hitting her. …Was she dumb?
Her head visibly turned from looking to the bird and then back to Rey.
”It’s our new pet,” she responded, her voice as blunt and as monotone as anything. She then let the silence hang in the air for an uncomfortably long few seconds, staring directly at the captive Rebel. ”Obviously we’re going to eat it.”
The aggressive, matter-of-fact tone shift in her tone prompted an irritated huff from the other woman, but the captain paid no mind to it, nor to the quiet giggling of her subordinate. Instead, she approached the Rebel directly and lightly held the squirming pelikki out to her, a smirk forming underneath her helmet as she watched Rey back away a little, clearly unsure of the situation unfolding.
”I’m sure you’re aware that I am quite close to Lord Ren,” she began, withdrawing the animal and moving it closer to her body. ”I have seen him wield the Force in various ways. I know how much healing somebody with it takes a toll on his body, and I am seeing the same effects take a toll on you, too.”
The other’s eyes gazed right up at her, wide with some form of surprise. Perhaps she thought of the captain’s implications as an act of kindness, but Phasma didn’t bother to nicely suggest otherwise. ”You’re no use to us constantly on the verge of death, though I’m sure anyone would be. It’s no fun hauling around people who are barely conscious.”
That earned her a scoff from Rey, as well as a roll of her eyes, which the captain paid no mind to as she brought the bird forward again, still making sure it wouldn’t escape. ”Well, go on, then. Kill it. Drain its life force.”
With a great deal of hesitation, the other woman finally stood up and reached out a hand near the pelikki’s face once its beak had been forced shut, closing her eyes as she began the process. It didn’t take long for the animal to fall limp in the captain’s arms, and she stepped aside to begin preparing it for food after it had fully passed.
It was as if Rey had been reborn. As she opened her eyes, taking in a deep breath, her body began to feel lighter, her stomach finally settled as its nausea dissipated, she finally felt rested. Energised, even…
As her eyes scanned the camp, she began to take note of the other two women, with Phasma preoccupied with plucking the feathers off of the bird, and with that other stormtrooper now standing up closer to her, fully geared up this time and watching her. She had just fought with that woman, and the other one who she was worried about seemingly wasn’t paying any attention. Those odds didn’t seem particularly worrying… And there wasn’t much time to sit and ponder about it.
Spotting a gap between some bushes, Rey suddenly made a run for it, breaching the camp, dashing towards her freedom. She could hear the cries of the stormtrooper who had been watching her, but she didn’t look back. She didn’t dare to.
Blood roared in her ears, her heart pumping adrenaline through her newly regenerated body. Limbs shaking, chest pounding, her breathing heaved in and out as her legs pushed her onwards as if they had a mind of their own, carrying her body as she began to weave around bushes, hoping to confuse the troopers with an unpredictable path. Leaping over undergrowth, bounding over fallen tree trunks like a deer, her newfound energy seemed never ending. Even with her wheezing, fatigue had not yet plagued her.
She knew the chase was on. Even with her inexperience in the Force, she could just tell that the two were after her. But, despite the sheer terror pulsing through her very being, it was oddly thrilling. A terrified excitement, the uncertainty of her being found, the possibility that maybe, just maybe, she would just escape by the skin of her teeth. The desperation for freedom was an unrelenting voice screaming at every aspect of her to keep running, to keep breathing, to get somewhere. Anywhere that wasn’t near those two monsters. Anywhere that wasn’t near the rest of the horde, the abomination that was the First Order.
It seemed as though she had been running for an eternity, though her mind continued demanding that she carry on, the fear and dread of the consequences also aiding her sprinting. It seemed to grow within her, that terror. As if there was a presence growing behind her, large and looming over her, gradually catching up, step by step, stride by stride.
Her horrified panting increased as her body flailed along the uncharted forest paths, seemingly losing steam, much to her distress. Weaving in and out of bushes and undergrowth, just barely making it over more fallen trees. Would these unpredictable paths last? That presence only grew as her attempted escapade continued, the sound of twigs snapping underneath heavy feet just barely capturing her attention.
Were they hers?
Her footsteps continued to pound against the earth, comically light and faint. Barely breaking brittle twigs beneath her feet. Hell, she even peeked down just to make sure. Slowing down. Step by step. Stride by stride.
And then they fell out of sync.
They were fast approaching.
Her stomach dropped, dread pooling in the very depths of her abdomen, weighing herself down. With wide eyes, she could hardly move. Petrified. Her legs stopped listening to her. Despite that resonating scream within her mind, her entire body stopped listening, freezing up as if some external force had locked her outside of it.
She couldn’t bear to look. But those footsteps were rapidly approaching.
Jittery like a rusty machine, her head repeatedly paused in what should’ve been one fluid motion to look. Her eyes caught a rapid, silvery shine almost fly at her at an impossible speed. A shriek ripped from her throat as her body finally moved, though it threw her backwards.
And there she was, face to face with the Captain once more.