General Hux (general_hux) wrote in thegalaxy, @ 2016-04-21 13:28:00 |
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Entry tags: | captain phasma, general hux |
i am sharper than a switchblade
Who: General Hux & Captain Phasma
What: On the assessment and reconditioning of problem recruits.
When: evening
Where: The Finalizer.
Rating: PG
For the first time in more than seventy-two hours, Hux was alone. Months after the destruction of Starkiller Base there was still so much work to be done: fresh-faced troops to break in, simulations to run, ordnance to inspect. Supreme Leader Snoke expected only the best, and Hux was determined to deliver no less. It left him exhausted, but it was worth it. No sacrifice was too great in service to the Order.
In an effort to lessen the strain placed upon him, Hux had taken pains to surround himself with captains and commanding officers he could trust; between his own observations and those of his Loyalty Officers, Hux did not question that. This strong chain of command, bolstered over the course of decades, lessened his stress to some degree. And there was one in particular he trusted above all others, one who even now worked behind the scenes, without rest, without thanks, as dedicated and tireless as he. She was on her way to him now with a report of today's progress and her assessments of the newest arrivals. He nearly smiled to think of her. Instead he cleared his throat and forced his face to stony blankness.
He turned his attention instead to the holoreader before him. He scrolled through seemingly endless reports and messages, skimmed vapid holonet messages, deleted a pleading communique from a merchant he had recently blackballed. Before he could read past it, the door chime interrupted him, a welcome change.
At his terse command, Phasma entered, her armor as pristine as always, her blaster cradled easily in the crook of her arm, her favored cape whisking along the ground. The door irised shut behind her, as she came to attention just as she always did. “General,” she said, by way of greeting, the modulator on her helmet making her voice metallic. “By your leave, I have my report for today.”
He turned in his chair, already nodding. He flicked off the holoreader and its screen went dark. “Good news, I hope,” he said. “Report, Captain.”
“As expected, the new arrivals came through less prepared than I would like, given that we are forced to fill gaps in existing ranks. However, it is not necessarily a drawback. Having more complete teams, and incorporating fresh troops tends to encourage the more senior soldiers, and gives them new motivation. I’m pleased with the latest transport.” Here, she hesitated. “With one exception, unfortunately. I foresee that SN-6565 will be a difficulty. He possesses a timidity that will prove dangerous to his team if it is not corrected. He caused a weapon malfunction this afternoon that affected the simulator.” The dryness in her tone belied the simple explanation; apparently, it was significant enough that it had perturbed her.
Hux arched a brow. He trusted her tone above her words. After so long together, she was easy to translate. “Do you believe this is an issue with skill, or desire?” His lips thinned, the beginnings of a frown tugging at one corner of his mouth. “Think carefully before you answer. The last thing we want is another FN-2187 on our hands. If this can be dealt with through discipline and further training, that’s a failing we can temporarily tolerate. If it’s something else…”
Phasma was silent for a long moment; the way her helmet was canted, it seemed she wasn’t looking at him, but instead was unfocused somewhere to his right. Finally, she said, “I do not doubt his desire, as I tested him in unarmed combat earlier in his training cycle, and he showed no difficulties. I believe he may have meshed badly with his former team. He hesitates in certain situations, which leads me to think that he had a poor trainer that instilled a weak habit.” She paused again, then said, “Permission to remove my helmet, sir?”
“Granted.”
Hux considered her assessment carefully. His eyes narrowed, and he let loose a frustrated sigh that edged on a growl. “I trust you to deal with the immediate problem,” he said, “but there remains the larger issue of an incompetent trainer. Have Records pull the names of all who were trained in SN-6565’s class and send them to me. We need to evaluate every trainee on that list, both individually and within their teams. If this is a pattern, we must stop it at its source.”
His jaw was tight; he heard the grinding of his teeth, and tried to relax. “This method works,” he said. “But we cannot afford a single misstep. Not again.”
Phasma removed her helmet, tucking it under her arm after she set her blaster in the clip at her belt. Her blond hair was slightly mussed, but more telltale was the clear blaster burn at left side of her throat. Her lips were in a thin line, pressed tight; her eyes were calm but dark. “I agree. SN-6565 clearly has issues with securing a blaster, and to some degree, firing one. When put under more pressure, he showed frustration and anger which led to a further misstep. My initial step today was to send him for reconditioning. I believe that this has been shortchanged in the effort to force troops out sooner. Before you ask why I would consider salvaging him, it is because he otherwise follows the orders of his team beautifully, and he possesses good instincts. If one of his trainers has otherwise damaged his potential...” Her look promised retribution for whomever had done so.
Hux pulled his gaze from the burn at her throat. His jaw had clenched again, he noted. “Then they will suffer the consequences,” he said. “Rest assured of that.” He tipped his chin upward, indicating her wound. “Is that your only injury? I trust you had it seen to.”
Phasma shook her head in response. “Not yet, and the others are minor. The troops are under the impression that SN-6565 missed.” There was a large amount of dryness in that reply, drawled out the way she did. “But despite that, I think the choice to go hot, as it were, with live weapons in the upgraded simulator is the correct choice. Some of my older troops were becoming too complacent. Still, it needs improvements.” She sighed. “Perhaps a new engineer…”
“Perhaps,” Hux said. “I think SN-6565 may require more than a single reconditioning. When he returns, push him all the harder. Another incident like this--” Hux nodded to the angry sear on her skin. “--And I’ll throw him out the airlock myself.”
He reached for the holoreader, thumbing it on and immediately scrolling through. “There is a promising engineer still in training,” he said. “She shows unusual aggression and creativity in the simulations she creates. We could use new blood like that. As you say, complacency is in the older troops. If they think they are safe, we must show them otherwise.” He sneered. “The Resistance will show them no mercy. Why should we.”
Phasma nodded at his curt instructions for the recalcitrant trooper. “It will be done,” she answered, crisply. “The integration of the unarmed combat, and armed combat sequences is progressing well. I do not foresee any issues with the existing troops in that capacity. If you would, send me the information on this engineer, so that I may evaluate her overall readiness. As much as I would prefer to revamp the systems now, I do not want any...weaker areas in her training that have not been addressed, to infect the troops in place. She will need to be exemplary on all fronts. I will have SN-6565’s records transferred to you this evening.”
Hux nodded. “I trust your judgement. If you think her lacking, we will find another. And another, if need be, until the process is perfected. We are lucky to have you, Phasma. No others are so diligent as you.” He rose, tossing the holoreader aside, where it skittered across his desk. He moved closer to her, a slight furrow creasing his brow as his eyes returned to her wound. “I agree that live weapons are required at this point. But risking you over a single trooper… I do not approve. I hope he has some inkling of how fine a line he walks right now.”
He raised his hand. Traced the line of the burn with a barely-there brush of his fingers. “Are you certain this does not need attention? What of your other injuries?”
“A small price to pay,” Phasma answered, with a small half-smile. “Not just for the attention, but also because it was very satisfying to see the look on SN-6565’s face when he thought he had incapacitated me. In all honesty, Hux, I found that it...motivated the others in the simulation when they thought they might be able to succeed against me. Not that any of them had a chance,” she added, her tone more matter-of-fact than arrogant. “But that is not the point. Unity against a common foe.” Her eyes held a small gleam. “I do not mind being the foe for a short while.”
Continued here.