More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
She spins in her chair and holds up what she’s accomplished so far. “What do you think?” Gigi beeps and boops in what sounds like apologetic disappointment. “You be nice, or I’ll make one for you. A droid cozy to clash with your paint job.”
The room isn’t large, maybe three meters by four, and it clearly has only one use: interrogation. Well, two uses, if you count torture.
They followed her not because she asked them to but because she had her own gravity, a greatness and courage that spoke to their hearts.
They, too, put on their masks. If they were to die on the mountain, they would die fierce.
I’ve seen these dunes, and I can’t imagine what kind of mindset it would take to tackle them without simply lying down to die in a valley. We grow so accustomed to our speeders, our ships, our hyperdrives. To be in a world where only your feet can move you, centimeter by centimeter through infinity…let’s just say there’s a reason Phasma wanted off that rock.
Even if she didn’t know what to call it, she understood immediately what it was for. Fear trickled down her spine. The Scyre was an unwelcoming place, meaninglessly and randomly cruel, but humans had created this loathsome monstrosity on purpose.
Siv well knew that Phasma’s brain was like a spiderweb, and that she would not make a decision until she’d considered every thread and its every connection.
Her mother had taught her, long ago, that there was some wisdom in madness, and that those who spoke with the beyond were to be respected and rewarded.
“We can only act as if it’s true,” Phasma said. “We can only keep going.”
When she was able to see again, the only evidence that the First Order had visited Parnassos were tracks in the sand, an abandoned shipwreck, and the bodies of everyone she’d ever loved.
The door slid open as easily as the doors on the other Con Star Mining Corporation stations; for all its faults, Con Star could build a hell of a door.
Perhaps the sneer Armitage wears every time he speaks to Cardinal is the same expression he shows everyone.
“How about you, Iris? You got any hidden interest in defecting to the Resistance?” In response, the floating orb beeps something that sounds like a laugh, and a shockprod pokes out, snapping with electricity. “Can’t blame me for asking.”
That’s another thing Vi has learned. No one is ever just one thing. The trick is finding out who they are in the moment and convincing that person to do what you want them to do.
Phasma was happier with the First Order than she had been with the Scyre, but she would never be willing to drink poison for any master.
Placing the chrome helmet on her head, she took in a deep breath through the filtration system, tasting the air of Parnassos for the last time and finding it sweeter than ever before. She boarded her ship, took off, and blasted into the sky and back toward the Finalizer and her new life. She swore never to return to this planet again, or to the girl who had once lived here. There was only one more person alive who had seen her face, and she was on her way to end him. She had become Captain Phasma of the First Order, and nothing could stop her.
To my sweet husband, Craig: I forgive you for killing me with those Noghri in the Star Wars RPG back in 1997. Mostly.
And thanks to my much-loved plush Princess Kneesaa, who’s been with me since Christmas 1983. I am and will always be #TeamMurderbear.
