• short fics


    “I heard you like corellian hounds, Captain.”

    Phasma grimaced under her helmet. That of course had to spread. The cafeterie was open for all officers to come and go and – talk about what they heard. Sometimes the higher ranked charges of First Order were not much unlike a bunch of young Jedi padawans talking over newly got lightsabers. If that comparision wouldn’t be wiped out by her own allegiance.

    “They are good in battle, General.”

    Hux looked at her with visible disbelief mixed with a slight hope of wanting to believe her. It would be after all strange, if she, of all people, was fond of petting dogs.

    “Have you used any during our campaigns?”

    “No. But we got few when… I was younger.”

    That was almost finishing the topic. The youth has been something Phasma didn’t like to even mention. But something in her voice made him stretch the conversation.

    “I can’t imagine you surrounded by dogs, Captain.”

    “They were efficient warriors. Owning one was an actual honor between my clan.”


    The unwanted image of Phasma, sitting in her settlement, or however that cursed place was called, looking into the night sky, with a big dog head on her knees, scratching it under the ears, crept into his mind.

    “Before you ask, General, I wasn’t using them as pets.”

    Hux scoffed.

    “Liking animals isn’t anything shameful. I had cats since I was young, getting my first when I reached six.”

    Getting no response from her, he cleared his throat. Phasma knew almost everything about him, helped him hide many dirty secrets, yet he still couldn’t say the same about her. She was hiding behind that helmet not only her face but also all of dark past, present and maybe even future.

    Working with Phasma was easy, she was fulfilling all orders profesionally and without questions. But something in her was making him sure that if she didn’t see personal gain in all of it, his life would have taken a completely different course.

    “We should allow your troops for animals.”

    Phasma cocked her head.

    “I doubt it would be wise.”

    “You said they were good in battle. The hounds.”

    “On planet where dangers weren’t automated. I won’t send a dog after machine. Nor against a blaster.”

    He looked at her sternly.

    “This could do at least as a good training.”

    She didn’t show if she took his rare joke or not. At least he didn’t have to see her sour dissaproval over his idea, painted on her face.