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Stumbling across the forest floor, each step almost dragging with the heavy weights of pain and exhaustion, the young Rebel hissed out soft wincing as she was forced to keep walking, pushed to match the swift, unbreaking strides of her captors, their trained marching akin to the robotic rhythms of the droids that once walked the planet. A rhythm that could only be drilled into a soldier with the cruellest hand. A rhythm Rey could hardly keep up with.
”Do not try that again.”
A sharp, quick flash of silver followed the captain’s stern words, as well as a sudden burst of pain right in the back of her head. The force of the strike ripped out a loud yelp from the Rebel as she nearly collapsed to her knees. That couldn’t have just been from a hand. Not one made of human flesh, at least.
She wanted to scream at them to go to hell, to struggle more, to try to rip herself away from their captivity once and for all. Reason told her to comply. Rage told her to lash out. To show them just how much she hated them.
Rage won, however. She still was yet to learn patience and to use her head.
”Go to hell..!! I hate you, I hate you so much..! You don’t deserve peace, you don’t deserve to even die..!! I hope you are tormented by your heinous, disgusting beliefs, your violence towards innocent people! All for the sake of power! You’re a bunch of puppets, pawns of the First Order and you don’t even see it! You don’t think for yourselves, you blindly follow orders, like mindless, perfect, obedient little droids..! Even the Separatist droids used to be smarter than you..!”
She yelled at them, screamed at them, never letting her voice quieten down, allowing those usually forbidden emotions to just come pouring out. She absolutely wasn’t planning on giving them an easy time. If they wanted to keep her captive, they could deal with her tantrums. Maybe that would make them throw her out, but no. Bloody Kylo Ren, the almighty Knight needed her. Why he needed her, she didn’t know. She never really understood his reasoning, or the First Order’s.
However, her little tactic was a double edged blade. Sure, she gave them hell, but yet another firm smack to the back of her head only served to further embarrass her. To further make her want to bury herself alive right then and there while her face became slightly flushed. She couldn’t even fight them as her hands were bound behind her back, all while the lightsaber she so dearly had held had long been confiscated. So, she only had the Force on her side.
The Force…
Just then, an idea popped into the woman’s mind. Obviously, people who weren’t Force-sensitive couldn't resist such tactics, as far as she knew… She had tried this back on Starkiller, and it worked just from the third attempt. After that, however, she’d probably only need one. She had figured out how the trick worked, so she slowed down a little so she could be level with the captain’s subordinate and even stepped a little closer to her. That way, she could keep herself nice and quiet as she shifted her focus to command the soldier’s mind.
”You will kill your captain and let me go…”
She uttered, close to the other woman’s helmet, quiet enough for only her to hear it. With that sentence, a sort of tension took over the two of them as the Force pushed that command into the other woman’s head, after which she further slowed down. Just so she wouldn’t be in the firing range... After all, she knew it worked when the slightly older woman echoed back the same words, and pulled out her blaster, aiming it directly at the weakest point in Phasma’s body. Her neck… which only had a few centimetres of exposed underarmour, so the soldier only had one chance.
That tension, a sensation that almost stung… The captain briefly paused in her steps at the familiarity of it. A frown began to form beneath her helmet, not only at the dread that began to weigh her down, but at the muttering she barely caught between the other two women. What they had said, she hadn’t quite heard, but the unmistakable sound of a blaster charging up finally pushed her head to whip around.
Her eyes widened as they locked onto the pair - her subordinate having already aimed the rifle in her direction, cocking it as the power began to rev up, her finger travelling to the trigger; their captive Rebel had taken to standing back, watching the scene unfold with visible anticipation, something akin to a morbid sense of excitement, as if she had been waiting for her to finally die.
Her soldier would never do this, no… Not her Maple. And the gleam within Rey’s eyes solidified it for her that she must have done something. Using the Force to turn her soldier against her… Clever.
Her body then moved, throwing itself to the side just as the first shot was fired. The stunned expression that then appeared on the Rebel’s face was certainly a brilliant sight to behold, yet the captain was quick to draw out her own weapons - a pistol aiming at her soldier, and her regular blaster rifle aimed at Rey in case she tried to run off again. Despite the pounding in her chest, she aimed the weapons stiffly as the three came to a standstill. The hope that the mind trick would wear off as a thick, heavy silence filled the air was soon crushed again as Maple seemingly refused to lower her weapon as if she was awaiting further instructions from the stunned Rebel.
”Drop the gun! That is an order, Maple. Drop the gun!”
Using the woman’s birth name had not initially been the plan, yet, the captain figured that it may be the only way to get through to her. She repeated those words again, switching the order of them, emphasising her name as well as the command to drop the blaster. It soon became apparent, though, that Rey was still clinging on, keeping somewhat of a hold onto her soldier’s mind, evident in the mild confusion seeping through Maple’s demeanour - an unsteady blaster, and brief glances between her captain, and the supposed ‘Jedi,’ unsure of what to do next as she aimed with unclear intent.
So, with her words clearly falling on deaf ears, ones still ringing with Rey’s influence, Phasma fell silent, even allowing the arm pointing the pistol at the trooper to lower. But her rifle remained pointing directly at their supposed Jedi Master, directly at her head.
The captain’s gaze narrowed, her masked eyes meeting Rey’s. Her stupidly frozen, dumbstruck expression generated a steady rise of anger to form in her chest, aching and coiling within itself as it boiled and burned. Her trigger finger slipped away from the grip, sliding up past the guard and resting on the trigger itself. And with one swift movement, she pulled it.
…
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…
Once more did the rhythmic marching of the soldiers fill the forest with the sounds of their equal strides. Leaves and twigs crunched beneath their feet in uniform drumming akin to a beating heart, and their steps pounded louder upon meeting clearings, areas of hardened dirt.
The two stormtroopers remained almost entirely in sync, aside from the captain’s subordinate moving with her head hung lower, conveying a deep sense of shame. Her steps fell more heavily, that little bit more unsteadily than her captain’s, akin to those of a prisoner being publicly shamed. But while they continued in time, a third pair thumped noisily behind them, unrhythmical and unsteady.
Rey wasn’t far behind, now walking between them as an extra precaution, to ensure she wouldn’t try to run off. Though it has been a few minutes since the blaster was fired, the ‘Jedi’ was still shaking, but was also far from being entirely, completely terrified. Just earlier, she thought she was going to die, in that unknown forest on Naboo, never to be found again. But that outcome didn’t make sense, in hindsight. They needed her alive. Something that she realised right after that shot was fired, was that the captain had moved the blaster at the very last second, in a way that the shot just barely missed the captive. Clearly an old trick, a distraction method. One Rey should’ve been able to predict and not allow it to yank her focus away from the subordinate. Now there was no use trying it again… The two were watching and listening to her like two hawks. Like she was going to kill them both, once she’d get the chance, once they lost focus, even for just a split second.
Their walking stayed mostly silent, the only words being exchanged during their occasional breaks to eat more ration bars, drink water, or to step aside to take care of anything else.
The tranquility of the forest did not ease the lingering tension. The gentle caressing of the mild breeze did not relax their rigid bodies, nor did the lullabies it carried from the swaying trees rustling against one another. Rey’s escape and indirect attempt at murder had further ruined whatever chance she had at being treated more fairly than most prisoners, even with how much the Order had demonised this girl. The captain now appeared like a hypocrite, thanks to these stunts. Those promises to not hurt her were now false.
Several more hours of walking, several more hours of both physical and mental effort were all bound to have an effect on all three travellers. Clearly all burnt out as, whenever anyone spoke, it came in short, flat sentences, which were then met with equally if not more blunt responses, though Maple appeared far more polite compared to the curt replies from Rey. The epitome of a moody teenager - an image that did thoroughly amuse Phasma despite her resonating anger with the younger woman. Now all she needed was the black hair and smeared makeup to match…
Soon enough, the torture was over once the captain finally found a clearing she deemed suitable enough for a campsite.
It was an emptier area, in which trees were further apart from one another in comparison to the rest of the forest. In the same clearing, there was a pond with a large shore, covered by barely any grass. The perfect spot for a fire, and large enough for the three of them to have enough space. The setting sun peered through the gaps of the leaves, beaming tiny rays of light down to touch the water’s surface with shining sparkles and dot the forest floor in specks of gold. A comical contrast to the dull energy the trio brought to the new campsite as they began to set up, which was the only time Rey was trusted to move around without handcuffs was when she was ordered to drag small logs to surround the partially constructed campfire, all while the heavy assault trooper gathered more sticks, and Phasma checked on what food they still had left.
Night rolled around fairly quickly, and the tension seemed to leave alongside the departing daylight. Food and rest appeared to remedy the previously foul mood amongst the three women, at least partially. Rey’s decision to slink off to bed immediately after eating came with zero protest from the troopers, even if she did steal one last glare at them.
Now basking in the warmth of the campfire, the captain took to sitting against the log seating on the ground, leaning right back against it with a barely stifled sigh. Unmasked, and with a fairly bored expression upon her face, one hand held a small bone of the pelikki she had previously cooked, slightly gnawing the rest of the reheated meat off of it. Slow, light grinding of her teeth, just barely scraping the gristly slithers of meat as her gaze remained fixated on the fire before her. Almost unblinking, staring directly into the flames lapping up the twigs they danced on, intertwining with one another, puffing out short bursts of smoke. Very gradually, her chewing stopped, now just holding the bone in the corner of her mouth, unaware of how… odd she looked. Tears pricked at her eyes, glassy and reddening with irritation, yet Phasma’s gaze remained firm on the flames.
In time with her blank appearance, her mind also had fallen silent. A rare occurrence for somebody as in tune with her surroundings as she usually was. Always on the lookout for her next enemy, the next person to suddenly turn on her. The next thing to go wrong, the almighty Captain would be the first person on it, retaliating in full swing, up in arms and prepared to defend herself. Her honour, and the First Order.
But her unusual silence didn’t go unnoticed, for her ever so bright soldier cast her a worried glance and shuffled herself closer, landing herself beside the chrome clad captain, and gazing up at her with wide, worried eyes.
”Captain?” She uttered quietly, careful as to not startle the woman back into reality. The blonde slightly turned her head, but didn't take her eyes off of the fire. Indicating that she was listening, but couldn't rip herself away from the warm, mesmerising flames dancing around in front of them.
That gave Maple the cue to speak, albeit she kept herself quiet, in order to avoid also waking the Rebel up.
”I don't mean to invade, but perhaps you should take your medication… I worry about your well-being…” The younger woman uttered, leaning just a little bit closer to her superior, just to make sure she was heard properly. Of course, she expected a glare, or maybe even a reprimand. But Phasma's silence and slight smile oddly terrified her more.
”Oh, I don't have them on me. They're gone.” Were the captain’s words. Short, concise, terrifying. A frown immediately made its way upon Maple's face, both in worry and in shock. And the fact she was so… calm about it, absolutely freaked the subordinate out beyond measure. It meant that Phasma had accepted what would be their fate for the next few days or even weeks, as it usually happened when she was off her medication for a long time… But all she could respond with was a quiet, ”oh,” and avert her gaze to the side. Of course, it wasn’t her place to interfere, nor had it been to even bring it up in the first place, yet all she could do was worry.
A hand suddenly touching hers then had her look back, now finally meeting the other’s gaze as she could now see that she was finally ‘with it’ again.
”Whatever happens…” the captain began quietly, ”at least I know that I can trust you.” Holding eye contact, keeping a light hold onto her soldier’s hand, Phasma did all she could to appear earnest - something so foreign to her, both in language and sentiment. It wasn’t often she’d talk with such tenderness, such empathy and care, though she could see the sudden appreciation upon her soldier’s face. Her soft brown eyes widening along with a smile tugging at her lips, such sweetness the captain could never grow tired of.
”Thank you, Phasma…” was Maple’s quiet yet daring reply, addressing her captain more personally. As calm as she appeared, the slight trembling of her body remained visible with a move as bold as referring to a superior soldier with their first name. Phasma should've and could've gotten angry and punished Maple. As all superiors, there were no first name basis scenarios. Unless she was being referred to by her rank and her name, but other than that, there was no such thing as using your superiors' birth name.
But the captain could only smile, upon hearing her name being uttered by such a pretty, sweet voice. She said nothing. Instead, the hand that was touching her subordinate’s left its spot and rested upon the brunette's cheek, lingering there for a few moments, while the blonde tried to figure out whether this was a good decision or not… After all, professional entanglements were frowned upon by the First Order. But right now it was just them. No cameras, no spies, nobody that could interfere, besides animals or people wandering the forests of Naboo. That was good enough for Phasma.
With that lingering reassurance within her own mind, Phasma pulled the smaller woman's face closer to her own, slowly enough for her to be able to react, allowing their breaths to mingle between them once they were close enough… Just inches apart, then centimetres… millimetres… then their lips finally met. In a chaste, slow, tender kiss. Taking their time in feeling each other, and relishing in the following moments.
Knowing they had a Rebel to watch over, the two parted fairly quickly, though they held each other’s gaze just for a few more moments until Maple took to resting her head on her captain’s shoulder. Once she had settled herself, the captain lifted her gaze, locking her sight onto their captive Rebel soldier, almost flinching upon suddenly making eye contact with her. When Rey had decided to glance at them, Phasma didn’t know, yet the absolutely filthy glare she received prompted her to smirk in return until the younger woman finally rolled over with a quiet scoff, her back now facing the two.
How much had she heard? Had she really been awake the whole time? Those were the questions now filling the captain’s head as she held her dozing subordinate in her arms, her eyes still fixed onto the Rebel. A frown crept onto her face as she emitted a soft sigh, glowering at the possibility of her condition being made known to this enemy soldier. They’d captured her, and Phasma knew damn well that they wouldn’t be letting her go any time soon, so, surely it wouldn’t matter?
With a quiet hum, she decided to sit back a little, her frown slightly disappearing as she weighed the possibilities. Rey would be in the hands of the Order in no time. But, even if she escaped and attempted to spread the word, she doubted anyone would really believe her. After all, neither of them had said what the medication was for.
As her mind was finally put at ease, her grip tightened on Maple, wrapping her arms more securely around her torso.
It was just them, now. Nothing else mattered.