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Phasma (Star Wars) : Journey to Star Wars: The Last Jedi
by Delilah S. Dawson and January LaVoy

Overview - NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLER
  • Discover Captain Phasma's mysterious history in this "Journey to Star Wars: The Last Jedi " novel.
    One of the most cunning and merciless officers of the First Order, Captain Phasma commands the favor of her superiors, the respect of her peers, and the terror of her enemies.  Read more...


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    More About Phasma (Star Wars) by Delilah S. Dawson; January LaVoy
     
     
     
    Overview

    NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLER

  • Discover Captain Phasma's mysterious history in this "Journey to Star Wars: The Last Jedi" novel.
    One of the most cunning and merciless officers of the First Order, Captain Phasma commands the favor of her superiors, the respect of her peers, and the terror of her enemies. But for all her renown, Phasma remains as virtually unknown as the impassive expression on her gleaming chrome helmet. Now, an adversary is bent on unearthing her mysterious origins—and exposing a secret she guards as zealously and ruthlessly as she serves her masters.
    Deep inside the Battlecruiser Absolution, a captured Resistance spy endures brutal interrogation at the hands of a crimson-armored stormtrooper—Cardinal. But the information he desires has nothing to do with the Resistance or its covert operations against the First Order.
    What the mysterious stormtrooper wants is Phasma's past—and with it whatever long-buried scandal, treachery, or private demons he can wield against the hated rival who threatens his own power and privilege in the ranks of the First Order. His prisoner has what Cardinal so desperately seeks, but she won't surrender it easily. As she wages a painstaking war of wills with her captor, bargaining for her life in exchange for every precious revelation, the spellbinding chronicle of the inscrutable Phasma unfolds. But this knowledge may prove more than just dangerous once Cardinal possesses it—and once his adversary unleashes the full measure of her fury.

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    • Publisher: Penguin Random House Audio Publishing Gr
    • Date: Sept 2017
     
    Excerpts

    From the cover
    Vi was trained to remember every detail when it counts, but even she can't keep up with the labyrinthine twists and turns of the enormous Star Destroyer's guts. Long hallways end and intersect, and turbolifts up and down make it impossible for her to recall their route. It's one thing to see pictures of ships like this one, but it's another thing to really understand the enormity of their enemy's resources. As he guides her into another lift, the man in red stands in front of the panel so she can't see which level they're headed to.

    "Your place or mine?" Vi asks, hoping to goad him into moving aside.

    But the man in red is silent, the gun always rammed into some soft place on her body and the spherical droid floating by his side. Her leather jacket has built-in armor plating, but it wouldn't do much to stop a fatal shot at this distance. Thing is, she knows he's not going to shoot her. But she has to play along. When she slowly begins to take her hands down, he clicks his tongue at her.

    "Tsk. Hands on head. You know how this works, scum."

    The blaster shoves into her kidney, and her hands go right back up. "Look, I'm not scum. I don't know who you think I am, but I'm just a trader. Maybe I smuggle a little, but who doesn't? And wouldn't that be the New Republic's jurisdiction, anyway? Did I travel back in time? Shouldn't I be in a cell, waiting to speak to some cadaverous bureaucrat in a jaunty hat?"

    The lift door slides open, and he shoves her out into a hall that's downright dungeonous. They didn't see anyone farther up, and Vi is willing to bet that's due to a combination of this trooper's knowledge of the ship's rigorous schedule and his droid's meddling, as it sometimes pushed ahead to lead. But down here—well, it's clear nobody goes down here. Except people doing things they shouldn't be doing.

    The lighting is dim and flickering, and there's something dripping, maybe runoff from the vent system. They're deep in the bowels of the Star Destroyer, then, in an area that's generally off-limits or beneath notice. And that's not good for Vi. Even the First Order has rules, and the red trooper is breaking them. If this guy kills her, he won't even have to do datawork. She'll just be another load of garbage sliding down toward the incinerator.

    Great. The Resistance doesn't know much about the enemy they're facing, and the New Republic doesn't consider them a threat, which means Vi hasn't been briefed on the protocol these people generally follow. She doesn't know what to expect. She's been trained to resist interrogation, but she also doesn't know what new toys this guy in red might have. A chill trickles down her spine. She might be in over her head.

    "They put you in the penthouse, huh, Emergency Brake?" she says, because she always babbles when truly worried. "Top-notch accommodations. Can we get room service?"

    The blaster doesn't leave her spine. Her captor gives her directions— turn here, turn there—but doesn't respond to her taunting. Finally, he presses a long code into a control panel on the wall, and a door slides open far less smoothly than Vi would expect in what's obviously a new ship. The room inside is colder than it should be and smells of moisture, metal, and, no point in denying it, blood. The spherical droid hurries inside first and turns off the cams, one by one. Vi pauses on the threshold, but the trooper finally touches her, shoving her hard with a gloved hand so that she stumbles to her knees, her fingers curling into a rusty grate set in the floor.

    "Get up."


    "You really know how to treat a girl right."

    ...

     
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