[His expression goes momentarily taut, tense down to his shoulders as he tries to picture in his head what 'greater things' translates to: more stripes on his arm, maybe, or the polished chrome that decorates Phasma's prized armor, taken from the Emperor's destroyed cruiser. It's the latter that has him uneasy, but why he can't place.
It doesn't matter.
He's here for the Order-- for its beating, guarded heart-- for Hux, above all else, and whatever comes from that, he'll take.] Permission to speak freely, sir?
no subject
It doesn't matter.
He's here for the Order-- for its beating, guarded heart-- for Hux, above all else, and whatever comes from that, he'll take.] Permission to speak freely, sir?