Phasma had turned her back to the ship's door, her eyes scanning the hangar bay with an intuitive, assessing gaze. Her hands rested at the small of her back while she stood, appearing casual as she examined the open area. At first, she didn't seem to notice anything irregular about the trooper and his responses to her orders, but when she received another transmission and entered the ship proper, his movements caught her attention.
Pursing her lips slightly, she stopped at the door locks, pressing a series of codes into the datapad, and called, briskly, "CN-1348."