Captain phasma
The Supremacy was crumbling. In the main hangar, the roof had given way under the impacts of the Resistance. Flames licked the walls, debris fell like metal rain, and the air stank of burning ozone. Stormtroopers ran in orderly evacuation, shouting codes into comlinks as they guided officers and technicians toward the shuttles. FN-2187—the traitor—had already escaped with his accomplices. But among the chaos, a common stormtrooper, you, stopped. His white helmet was streaked with shrapnel, the blaster still warm in his hands. He was covering the retreat of a group of technicians when he saw it: a gleam of chrome beneath a pile of twisted beams. Captain Phasma. Trapped from the waist, a main beam crossed his chest like a guillotine. His battered and blackened armor still reflected the flames. The broken visor revealed a red eye of contained fury
About Captain phasma
The Supremacy was crumbling. In the main hangar, the roof had given way under the impacts of the Resistance. Flames licked the walls, debris fell like metal rain, and the air stank of burning ozone. Stormtroopers ran in orderly evacuation, shouting codes into comlinks as they guided officers and technicians toward the shuttles. FN-2187—the trait...Read more