chromeyacht | [closed] what do those people do?

[closed] what do those people do?

As if Kylo Ren himself wasn't enough, Phasma thought. As if one uncontrollable, unknown quantity aboard their ship wasn't bad enough, now they were going to be subjected to two.

Both General Hux and Lord Ren were on the surface of Starkiller, leaving Phasma to see to the Finalizer, and, by extension, their new guest. She had no idea what to expect, but that was to be expected by now. Force users were always deliberately mysterious, and it wasn't even clear why another one was coming. In fact, it wasn't even clear what she was - a Knight of Ren? A Sith Lord? There was no detail, just the name and the orders that she be met with respect and given quarters aboard their ship. Phasma detested the lack of clarity, the vagueness of the orders, the implication that they needed some sort of magic to achieve their goals. It was enough of a challenge keeping Ren from shredding this ship some days, and now this woman -

Lady Vanessa Ives. The name felt too mundane, and yet it managed to convey the same sort of dread heralded by any Force user.

She wondered if this was how Hux had felt, watching Kylo Ren's command shuttle sweep into the hangar for the first time. With any luck, Lady Ives would have a more favorable temperament.

Phasma stood straight and tall in front of her stormtroopers, with only her blaster holstered at her thigh. She always felt a little naked without the weight of her rifle in her hands, but even she couldn't go parading around with it all the time. Suffering the small things was part of the job, though, so she could endure the larger injustices. Even with her helmet on, she watched the shuttle clear its landing, and waited, keeping the dread at bay as best she could.

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For perhaps the tenth time in as many seconds, she made another promise to herself not to let this get to her. Snoke wasn't called the Supreme Leader for nothing, so she would do her duty in accommodating the likes of his preferred... soldiers. Later, she'd have to compare notes with Hux, see how he coped with it. Besides alcoholism.

"As you wish. My personal comm details will be forwarded to you." Honestly, Phasma couldn't figure why Vanessa would be honing in on her. Among the ranks, male or female didn't matter. They were all serving the same cause.

She kept a reasonable pace, satisfied with the salutes she received, annoyed when people shied away. She couldn't fault them, though, knowing Lord Ren had the same affect.

"I admit, very little," she said. "We aren't told much about - that sort of thing."

Saying 'you people' seemed needlessly aggressive, so she went for as neutral as possible.

"I am the last of my kind. It is not surprising that you have been told of little." Vanessa keeps moving, her voice even, unchanging. "Like the Knights of Ren, we usually function as a group. We were called the Nightsisters--Sith Witches. Different than Sith Lords, like Kylo Ren, or your fabled Darth Vader." She moves a hand to touch the scorpion on her chest. "Only women can be part of our Order. It is perhaps one of the reasons we were so reviled and feared by Sith and Jedi alike."

There is so much more to her story, but why tell it now? To this woman who thinks that she truly isn't judged for being a woman. Except, Vanessa knows that isn't exactly true. So often there is armor around the mind, as well as the flesh.

Phasma had to admit there was some appeal to how she described the Nightsisters. She'd been judged before, but her fists and her wit had gotten her past whatever hangups most of the old Imperial stock had tried to impress upon them. She wasn't ignorant of it - just intolerant of its existence among her troops. The crew of the Finalizer was a shining example of how a ship ought to run on a lot of levels.

"What happened to the other Nightsisters?" Maybe not the best question to lead with, if she had Ren's temper. Time to find out. Gesturing with one hand, she turned them down another corridor. Once they were out of the hangar bays, then it would be a real tour.

"Hunted, exterminated. Dead, one by one." Vanessa gestures. "I was a child, when most of it occurred; I was trained in secret, by the last of our order, brought up in the secret ways. Hidden from sight for a long time. We are not a part of the path, in the ways others are." She follows Phasma, pursing her lips, a little annoyance following into her voice. "But when she fell, I had little choice but to accept Snoke."

Vanessa sees no reason not to tell the truth. Snoke knew her feelings on the matter; he had shackles on her, and he knew she would lash out eventually. As would he, when she didn't have a use--but she did, so they remained allies. A complicated, careful thing.

"Lucky for your Lord Ren, Snoke can use me, and not break the apprentice of the Sith." Meaning that Ren can stay alive.

The fact that she clearly had no love for the Supreme Leader was a little... uncomfortable. The First Order couldn't have gotten where it was now without Snoke, even if some one of the command quietly chafed under his leadership. It wasn't something you talked about. If the guy in charge called himself Supreme Leader, it didn't leave much room for criticism.

These were all little facts she filed away for future reference, and to report back to Hux. If Vanessa and Ren were at odds, then they might have some planning to do to avoid conflict.

"That you alone survived is regrettable, but still a symbol of strength and perseverance. You're not the only one to come back from nothing." And wind up in the servitude a mysterious wizard, but that part went unsaid. Phasma had no response to whether or not Ren was lucky, leaving their hierarchy to them. It was none of her concern. She led them past the hangar control bridge, and towards the lifts. "This will take you to the barracks, but your quarters are on the officer's deck."

Vanessa smiles softly, her pale eyes regarding the woman next to her with a calculated gaze. "No, I am sure I am not, Captain." She could push, to see exactly what the other woman meant by her phrasing, but...she would rather get her to tell her, instead of plucking the information out. It was always more of a triumph to be earned that way--at least with some people, at least. With others, Vanessa was ruthless and destructive. But...well. Like a scorpion, she could take care, when need be.

Vanessa looked out at the multitudes of people, the buzzing hum that they all gave off--like insects, all trapped in petty, pathetic lives. There were some that burned brighter, some interesting ones here and there, but most were sadly, dull. She gave a small nod, and pursed her lips. "Excellent. Shall I be placed near the Knight, or is the Supreme Leader suggesting we be separated?" A little wicked smirk hits her lips, amusement in her eyes. Does Snoke wish for her to antagonize Ren, or keep the snake and scorpion at opposite ends?

Without moving her helmeted head, she followed Vanessa's gaze. Where Vanessa saw dull minds, she saw a brilliant, well-oiled machine at work. Chaotic as it could be, it was controlled chaos, and it was working. The First Order had discipline and intent, and it would win. They would build an even greater Empire.

"I'm not sure," she admitted. She knew Vanessa's room, and she knew where Ren lurked, but hadn't put them in her head in relation to one another. "If you're too close, I doubt you would be denied a request to be moved elsewhere."

That would be tempting - leave them close to drive Ren mad, or separate them to avoid more trouble. A decision for the general, definitely.

The lift pinged, and the doors opened. A young officer straightened up at the sight of Phasma, quailed when they saw Vanessa, and then scurried away with the quickest salute they could snap off.

"You would think that--but you do not know if placement is design, Captain." She gives a small, tight smile. "You must know things are often the way they are for a reason, and are not easily changed because we will it. Especially on such a ship such as this." If she was close to Ren, and hated it, it was because Snoke wished for it to be as such--there would be no moving them. She would have to endure. It would be a test.

When she saw the officer scurried off, she rolled her eyes, pursing her lips. "So I suppose I will have a total of three people to speak to on this ship. Excellent." Though, given she has spent a great deal of time in solitude, she isn't that put out; just...annoyed. The fear will get annoying quick--and it seems, from a quick read of the officer's mind, something instilled due to Ren's instability. Lovely.

Alright, now she was starting to sound like Lord Ren. The unnecessary drama, everything happens for a reason - will of the Force, whatever. Sure, sometimes you had to suck up an annoying room assignment, but given her rank, it would be as simple as filing a request. She was new, and that would count for something. Hux probably denied Ren's requests purely out of spite by now.

Walking into the lift, she let the topic of living arrangements slide. "You grew up with your powers, I presume. The rest of us grew up on ghost stories about those powers, and Lord Ren hasn't given any reason to lay them to rest. I expect more respect from my crew, however, and if they continue to avoid you, report them to me."

Even Mitaka could face Ren, though he did a lot of shaking in the meantime.

"I did grow up with them, yes. Force abilities don't simply appear out of thin air. Though given how people seem to know so little of them..." Vanessa purses her lips, letting out a small, annoyed sigh. Most people will never fully understand. "Why should he give them any reason to lay rumors to rest? I don't know what ghost stories you speak of...but his tantrums aren't normal. They aren't the way any side of the force should be used."

Vanessa shrugs, giving Phasma an even look. "And if I report them, what will that change? They will speak to me, reluctantly. You hold them in high regard, but are there any truly worth spending time on?" She is curious to see how the woman will defend her people.

Of course she didn't know those sorts of ghost stories - she was the ghost. Phasma did wonder how most of her kind were raised, though, if they were told how powerful they were, and other people were just insects to them.

"Regardless, Lord Ren's mission success rate is beyond reproach." It was just his behavior on board that could use some... reconditioning. She wasn't really defending Ren, but actually sidestepping the fact that they had no control of him, and they never would. "One does not serve aboard this ship unless they are the best at what they do."

Signaling the lift to take them to the next deck up, Phasma was silent, considering her response.

"That depends on you, and your standards, which I understand are separate from the First Order's. I imagine we must seem insignificant to you, but everyone here serves purpose even if it does not directly benefit you."

Yes, Vanessa was the ghost, she was the witch--she was the last of a now dead breed, a creature apart. There are no others like her; even to other force users. It will never be the same again, without her Sisters, her Mother. But perhaps, when the chaos of the current conflict has calmed, she may be able to bring the order back, herself.

Or perhaps she will die alone. It will be as the Force wills--she can not see the path.

Tilting her head, Vanessa listens, processing the information. "I am sure it is," she can hear that Phasma does not approve of everything, still. "I am glad to hear that you expect the best out of your people; though, well. Their minds can't be controlled, fully. At least they are not Clones." Better to have unique creatures, trained and conditioned, than the same person, copied.

"I am aligned with the First Order, now." For better or worse; there is no other way forward for her, for now. "There is no insignificant life, just insignificant thoughts." It is what leads to superstition, to the attempted wipe out of her.

"You seem a woman who holds all to high standards, though. Is that because of personal standards, or how it reflects on you? Or both?"

Phasma was perfectly neutral when it came to the topic of clones, mostly out of necessity. Between Lord Ren and General Hux, there were times she had to play tie-breaker, but that was one she kept out of at all costs. Besides, Hux just assumed she was on his side, what with her running the stormtroopers, but Ren took it as a victory when she didn't immediately rebuke him.

Not for the first time, she hoped the posturing between those two didn't wind up happening between her and Vanessa.

"As you say." Loyalty was not easily won among the First Order, at least not at this level. Phasma couldn't guess at the Supreme Leader's motives in these matters, but she was confident he didn't want any of them blindly trusting whomever he tossed onto their ships. She didn't answer for a long moment. "I should hope it's obvious that it's both. I came from nothing, and the First Order gave me everything. I intend to repay that tenfold. The success of my training and my troopers is a reflection of my standards, and if they are flawed or sub par, then I'll know about it. And then I'll correct it."

She was very, very confident no such flaws existed.

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[closed] what do those people do?

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