"Charge the enemy!" Phasma shouted to her remaining troops.

She secured her blaster on her right side and pulled a cylindrical object from her belt. The object extended into a long spear with razor-sharp points on both ends. With a twist of her hand, a pair of curved barbs appeared at the upper end of the weapon.

A growl rumbled beneath her helmet as she charged out of the creek bed like a voracious predator. The enemy stood dazed by the dust and debris, fumbling with their blasters that had been rendered useless. A man closest to the creek bed removed his energy pack. His eyes filled with a flash of chrome before the barbed end of Phasma's spear tore through his throat. Before he could fall, she ripped the spear out and drove it through his left eye.

Another soldier charged her from the left. She thrust the spear with such force it shattered his sternum and pierced his heart. She struck down several more soldiers as she charged forward. Powered by both fury and a well-conditioned body, she sliced at the neck of a man the right with the spear, nearly decapitating him. Around her, stormtroopers followed their Captain's lead as they struck down men with any means necessary.

Suddenly, she stumbled forward under the weight of an enemy soldier who jumped on her back. She flailed around wildly, trying to throw him to the ground. She felt her helmet twist, and she realized he was trying to unmask her. She reached up and grabbed his head with both of her hands. With a twisting motion, she snapped his neck.

Phasma took a glance around at the men lying dead. A familiar sight gave her pause. Every corpse visible lay next to an F-11 blaster. What the hell, she thought. These men are the conscripts Jerek recruited. What is going on here?

"Captain, the enemy front line is falling back!" FN-2734 shouted while turning her blood-covered helmet in Phasma's direction. "Shall we pursue them?"

"Yes," Phasma exclaimed. "Neutralize them!"

A disabled blaster slammed against the right side of her helmet. She staggered backward before drawing in a breath and steadying herself. She thrust her spear to her right and ran the barbed end straight into a man's crotch. He screamed and grasped the spear just before Phasma pulled it from the wound. The man fell to his knees. Phasma reached down and picked up the broken blaster. She brought it downward with tremendous force and drove it through the top of the man's skull.

In the distance, explosions echoed like a fierce storm. The Empire is bombing the outer flanks, Phasma thought. Someone set this up, and I will kill them when I learn the culprit's identity. A trio of TIE Advanced passed overhead. Phasma glanced up at them and smiled beneath her helmet. Prolov led his forces well, and she had the utmost respect for a commander who chose to participate in a battle. He was much different than the arrogant General Hux, who preferred to remain on his ship well out of harm's way.

A scuffle in front of her drew her attention. FN-2734 was locked in a struggle with a pair of men physically larger than the First Order lieutenant. Phasma charged up to the one closest to her and thrust her spear into the base of his skull. With the weapon deeply embedded in the man's brain, Phasma used it as a fulcrum to pull the convulsing man away from FN-2734. The lieutenant stepped to the side of her opponent and slammed her right foot down upon the man's knee. She stepped up to him and quickly snapped his neck.

The whines of ion engines filled the air just before a strong gust of wind raced past Phasma and her surviving troops. She listened intently and noticed a difference in the sounds of the engines. She glanced up in the sky and watched an Imperial Lambda-class shuttle descend out of the darkened sky. In the distance, four Imperial troop carriers landed. Squads of stormtroopers streamed down the lowered ramps like ants furiously defending their nest and began firing automatic bursts from their blasters at the retreating enemy.

Phasma stared up at the top of the shuttle's passenger ramp. Admiral Prolov stepped from the interior and surveyed the battlefield. Phasma's heart filled with disdain at the sight of the Admiral, whose historical records portrayed a military commander participating in battles. But now, seeing that Prolov allowed his men to do the dirty work for him flustered her.

What? Is this weakling truly worthy of my adoration? She asked herself silently. I expected much more from a man of his stature. How dare he disappoint me!

Prolov gestured towards Phasma. "Captain, your men will be accommodated aboard my troop carriers. I would like for you to accompany me on the shuttle. We have much to discuss."

Phasma took quick steps towards Prolov. Her breaths came in furious heaves as she moved. "What is the meaning of this, Admiral?"

Prolov shrugged. "It's an extraction. What else did you expect? You will not receive as much assistance from Hux."

"I don't need your charity, Admiral," Phasma huffed as she paused just in front of Prolov. "I prefer to leave this planet with my men, not you."

Prolov chuckled at the sight of his troop carriers lifting off the ground. "It's too late for that, Captain. And unless you plan on sprouting wings out of that shiny armor of yours, then I suggest you take a seat on the shuttle."

Phasma walked past Prolov and moved into the interior. The Admiral followed her and observed her as she sat abruptly in a seat along the central aisle. Prolov pressed a control to raise and secure the ramp. He then moved towards Phasma.

Phasma looked up at him and clenched her fists. "Don't even think of sitting next to me."

Prolov threw his hands up and took a seat across from Phasma. "I wasn't planning on it. I wouldn't want your ungratefulness rubbing off on me." He sat back in his chair and glared at Phasma. "Let's get something straight. You are on my ship, and I have the authority here. You, Captain, are just a guest. As long as we maintain that understanding, all will be amicable between us."

Why do you expect such foolishness from me? Phasma thought. You pulled me from battle through the most contrived extraction, and you think you can show up to trample over my dignity

"I take your silence as an agreement," Prolov said while resting his hands on his thighs.

Phasma huffed. "Never underestimate me, Admiral. My silence is neither consent nor agreement."

Prolov leaned forward in his seat, glaring at Phasma. "Let's dispense with the façade. It is merely a show and a cheap one at that. What is truly on your mind, Phasma? Tell me."

"Do you know of the enemy we fought against down there?" she asked before pausing a moment. "They were conscripts brought into the First Order by Commander Jerek. Their F-11D blasters and tan fatigues gave them away."

Prolov pursed his lips. There is that name again. he thought. Just how does he fit into this? The men we captured when we first arrived in this timeline also mentioned him. Prolov turned his attention back to Phasma. "You recognized them, but you continued to wage war on men that were, by your admission, allies. What are you not telling me, Captain?"

"Perhaps the information you seek is classified," Phasma replied coldly. "And if you were to join the First Order formally, then certain arrangements could be made to declassify it."

Prolov exhaled and shook his head. "Defiance will profit you nothing, especially from me." It is Time to reveal the truth to her. He said to himself mentally. Here comes the first salvo against that hardened shell of hers. "And formally joining the First Order and declassification will not be necessary. Simply telling me the truth shall suffice. For now."

Beneath Phasma's helmet, her eyes narrowed. She bore into Prolov with a stare that could pierce a soul like a spear driven home through an enemy's chest. How dare you challenge me, she thought. No one ever wins that game against me. She drew in a breath before speaking. "Hux authorized Jerek to bring them in as conscripts over a year before you arrived. I was not present at the meeting between Jerek, Hux, and the First Order High Command."

Prolov relaxed his posture and lightly tapped his hand on the armrest of his chair. "What does the First Order want with men who are well beyond the age of conscription? Before you answer, I knew Hux's father, Brendol. He conscripted children into training as future stormtroopers. And if Hux and the First Order have inherited Brendol's vision, as I have suspected, then it does not make sense to recruit adults."

Phasma sat back in her seat. "There are plenty of exceptions to Brendol's philosophy."

Prolov pursed his lips. "And you are one of them."

Phasma's jaw dropped at Prolov's statement. "How do you know that?"

I must have struck a nerve, he said to himself silently. She is caught off guard and vulnerable. A grin stretched across his face. "Call it a lucky guess if you so desire."

"A lucky guess, Admiral? I would expect much more from a man who history knows as calculating and observant."

"Perhaps history is wrong about me, Captain. Historical archives can be either an accurate portrayal or fictional prose from the hands of a gifted author."

"Time will tell, Admiral."

Phasma remained as still and rigid as a statue. She controlled her breathing to keep from giving any signals that Prolov could use against her. She reasoned silently, no explanation for why he went against his protocol. Some would play that off as arrogance or petulance. Yet, he is above those foolish attributes.

Prolov studied her as well. Her rigidness was just as much of a mask as her helmet. She was following orders of her superiors not because she must but rather because she desired to do so for her gain. She bears that armor out of necessity and obtains the provisions she needs. The First Order is the hand that feeds her and gives her a place to lay her head. Such a soul can be swayed to stand for another cause.

"Sir, Captain Aveen is requesting to speak to you," the shuttle pilot's voice said through Prolov's commlink.

"Send it through," Prolov replied. He pulled a circular holoprojector from his pocket and glanced at Phasma. "Please excuse me for a moment, Captain." He pressed a control, and the image of Captain Aveen appeared.

"Sir, a Corellian CR90 corvette dropped out of hyperspace just on the far side of the moon", Aveen said. "Before it fled, I dispatched four fighters from Phantom Squadron to follow it. As soon as they report its destination coordinates, I will take further action as per your instructions."

Prolov smiled. "Good work, Captain Aveen. Carry on."

Phasma intently watched the interaction between Prolov and his subordinate. He conducts his military endeavors with his men without attempting to conceal information that should be kept confidential in the presence of an officer who is not under his command. Interesting tactic. But why put on such a show?

Prolov leaned forward after sliding the projector into his pocket and thought, Time to lay another card on the table. "Before the curiosity proves to be the demise of the loth cat, Captain, please allow me to enlighten you. Our initial contact with the First Order came when we intercepted a shuttle with two officers accompanied by five stormtroopers. The commanding officer informed me during interrogation that he had been ordered to investigate our appearance by Commander Jerek."

Another test of my resolve, Phasma reasoned silently. "A strange concurrence. Commander Jerek is not assigned to the Endor sector. Why would he be involved in investigating you or your fleet?"

A genuine response. Jerek's actions are possibly independent of First Order Command, Prolov thought while analyzing Phasma's words and body language. I will test that hypothesis with a slight change of subject. "I ordered my technology officer to examine their navigational logs. They discovered the ship had set course from Jakku." Prolov replied. "I find it rather peculiar that Hux selected Jakku for our rendezvous. There must be a connection."

Prolov's statement brought a smile to Phasma's face while thoughts swirled in her mind like a voracious whirlpool. Ah, he has a disdain for Hux, as do I. Perhaps I can ally with Prolov and gain more leverage against the General. "Are you suggesting that Hux led us both into a trap at Geneel?"

Us? She speaks as if we are suddenly united against a common cause, Prolov pondered silently. Perhaps my assessment of the tension between Phasma and Hux was accurate. "I am suggesting nothing, Captain. Hux was following orders given to him by the First Order command. I cannot condemn a man for doing his job, no matter how cruel it may be", Prolov replied. "I also deduced that you were ordered to Geneel to capture me. That is why I moved my fleet to the neighboring star system and waited on you to make the initial move."

"What inspired your response?", Phasma asked while relaxing in her seat. "Did we give ourselves away so easily?"

Prolov shrugged. "No, decades of military experience have taught me the benefits of occasionally erring on the side of sensibility." Time to toss another dagger at her, he thought before casting a sharp gaze at Phasma. "I advise you not to mistake that attribute for weakness, Captain."

Well played, Admiral, Phasma countered silently. She nodded and crossed her arms. "And why would I do that, Admiral? Am I not here as your liaison? How are we reach any kind of agreement if we neglect to establish trust?"

Aptly spoken, Prolov analyzed mentally. But did those words flow through the lips of an ally? Or did they roll off the forked tongue of a predator? Prolov suppressed his thoughts and offered a soft grin. "I will be the judge of whether or not we reach that conclusion accordingly."

"Please pardon the interruption, Admiral," the shuttle pilot's voice said through Prolov's commlink. "Captain Aveen related a message stating General Hux is sending shuttles to rendezvous with the Apollyon."

So typical…and predictable, Prolov thought as he shook his head. "When are they anticipated to arrive?"

"Within the hour, sir," the pilot replied.

"Thank you, Lieutenant," Prolov said. "Carry on." He looked over to Phasma and exhaled. "This is rather peculiar." Or premeditated behind the scenes, he thought. "What say you, Captain?"

Phasma sat motionlessly. Why are you so hellbent on changing the rules of the game, Hux, she pondered silently. "Peculiar indeed, Admiral."

A ray of sunlight filtered through a small viewport on the ship's bulkhead. It reflected off Phasma's armor and cast a brilliant glimmer of silver light upon the empty seats next to Prolov. And suddenly, the light dimmed as fast as a star eclipsed by a moon. Prolov leaned forward and glanced out of the viewport. The wedge shape of the Apollyon filled the viewport.

"Looks like we are almost home," Prolov said while leaning back in his seat.

The rest of the flight to the Apollyon's hangar bay was uneventful. Prolov and Phasma remained silent while awaiting the shuttle to complete the landing procedure. As soon as the ramp lowered, Prolov gestured for Phasma to step off first. He followed her down the ramp and motioned towards the blast doors.

"Captain, please follow me to the bridge," he said as they walked into the corridor. "I have something I would like to show you."

The curious pairing of an Imperial Admiral and a much taller First Order Stormtrooper Captain adorned in her chromium armor splattered with blood and dust drew bewildered glances from the crewmembers in the corridors. Prolov and Phasma paid them no mind in passing by them.

As soon as they stepped on the bridge, Captain Aveen moved up. "Sir, the First Order shuttles that just dropped out of hyperspace are only to retrieve Captain Phasma's troops."

Prolov furrowed his brow. "What about the Captain. Is there not room for her aboard the shuttles?"

Aveen took a short but nervous gaze at Phasma before turning his eyes back to Prolov. "General Hux sent a communique ordering her to remain with us for the time being, sir."

Prolov nodded before turning towards the main viewports. "Very well, then."

Phasma stepped up next to Prolov. "Why are you not surprised by the news, Admiral?"

Prolov chuckled and gazed out of the viewports. "You and Hux have underestimated me. Perhaps I need to explain myself to you." He looked over his shoulder to Aveen. "Captain, if the fleet is in position, then you may proceed."

Aveen bowed and turned towards the weapons station. "All commands, target the base. Launch dilarium charges."

Three bright yellow balls of light launched from all eight vessels towards the old Imperial base within seconds. Prolov watched as the charges descended towards the surface, streaking towards the already burning structures of the base.

The first charges struck the outer boundaries first, detonating in a brilliant flash that sent a shock wave outward for at least a kilometer or two. Vast clouds of debris and dust sailed out from the explosion like waves breaking on a shoreline. Structures crumbled like straw houses in the fury of a mighty windstorm. The main portions of the base were enveloped in similar explosions that swept across the more significant administration buildings of the base, knocking them flat like an invisible hand cutting through a house of cards. As the final charges found their mark, the shattered remains of the base smoldered in a yellowish blaze for a few minutes before a massive explosion as brilliant as the sun flowed through the viewports of the Apollyon with glaring light.

The entire base lifted into the air like an aircraft taking off before shattering like the shell of an egg violently tossed on the ground. A shock wave swept rapidly out from the detonation for at least thirty kilometers in every direction. The ground beneath the base crumbled as it quaked under the force of the explosion before caving in, leaving a massive crater where the Imperial base once stood.

The debris burned furiously as a cloud of dust and debris blasted several kilometers into the atmosphere. Prolov smiled as he relished that the First Order had wanted him to demonstrate his fleet's capabilities, and now, he wondered if doing so would be a deterrent for the First Order or would it be a challenge for them to test him again. He hoped for the former rather than the latter.

Prolov offered a firm stare at Phasma. "Do we have an understanding now, Captain?"

Phasma refrained from responding while she watched the spectacle. Almost instantly, she was propelled in her memories back to the day she had been brought aboard the Absolution by Brendol Hux. The elder Hux had put on a similar show of strength to prove his formidability to her. But Hux's message that day was one of arrogant pride and a veiled threat.

Today was different. Prolov had sealed a message in a bottle before tossing it in the churning seas of contention. But she realized the message wasn't addressed to her. It was a clear message to Hux about the dangers of crossing a man like the Imperial Admiral.

Phasma looked down at Prolov. "Indeed, we do, Admiral."

Prolov's emotionless face morphed into the mask of a brilliant smile. "Good." He motioned towards the corridor leading away from the bridge. "Let's get you to your quarters."