Screams filled the city streets as people flooded out of their homes, running ahead towards the castle of the local noble. Climbing and running over each other they were frantically trying to escape the gigantic figure that now sat on bended knee behind them. Some fled into alleyways, thinking that would make them safer to some extent. They were proven wrong as some buildings would collapse around them from Phasmas movements, killing them in a slower crush beneath rubble rather than the metal of Phasmas boots.
A few miles away, Alix was now laying on the ground, unconscious. As Phasma got onto her knee, the force from her step blasted the child through the forest. He hit his head against a tree as the ship also tumbled a few feet away from him. BB-69 was also launched far away, though, being a ball he didnt take much damage.
Phasma, meanwhile, was reaching around her belt, taking out a cylindrical device. It was thicker than she could reach around but enough to wrap her hand around half of it, while it was just a little taller than her hand.
This device was a micro-bio-separator, MBS for short. Its primary function was to separate tiny biological creatures and bacteria into a container in the top that detached for multiple uses. It was mostly used to study microorganisms on newly discovered planets, or more often, to collect natural bacteria or viruses that could make effective poisons. Its also worth noting that the MBS can detect and also extract First Order nanotechnology, which makes it handy for mining very small veins of incredibly rare minerals.
Phasma bent forward slightly, the MBS held securely in both hands. She set it down onto the ground, the bottom open but the rim still smashing into the city below. The rim was thick enough to smash into multiple cottages, reducing them to rubble and blocking off the escape of thousands of people. The cylinder took up roughly most of the city and some of the surrounding forest regions, which was dramatically larger than the tiny villages that Phasma took out unaware beneath her boots. A few thousand poor souls were trapped behind the glass, screaming and cowering being all they could do.
Phasma reached over to the side of the machine and pressed a dark purple button. Deep inside something began whirring and emitting a low noise. The lower portion of the cylinder filled with light for two seconds, covering and nearly blinding everyone caught inside like an explosion. Once it was done, the light quickly faded away while steam filled the top container, slowly dissipating. As the smoke evaporated, what was left in the top container were small, humanoid figures, some laying down while others stood up in a rush. Unfortunately, however, they were all naked. Far below, on the streets they were moments ago fleeing on, were now lined with their inorganic clothing.
Phasma twisted off the container from the MBS, lifting it up to her masked face. With her visor still zoomed and focused she could clearly see the hundreds and hundreds of people she captured. They looked at her and would begin to scream, and when they noticed their clothes were gone they'd still try covering themselves with their arms.
Some quickly ran to the edges if they were close enough and began banging on the glass. It was pointless, however, because to them it was a few meters thick. Phasma eyed them carefully, studying their characteristics. They were, despite their almost non-existent height, completely identical to other humans found throughout the galaxy. From the hair on their heads to the sexual organs some tried to hide. Though many were wrinkled and worn out from years of labor, some showed more promise. Noticeably the dutchesses who were taken from inside the castles, their younger, paler skin and larger breasts contrasting greatly with those around them. They would be excellent for breeding. The First Order would find a lot of use from these pitiful little things; from being spies in even the tiniest of cracks to being sold to raise credits for the Order.
Suddenly, out of a large mass of people panicking, crying, getting on their knees and praying to their collective gods, Phasma noticed a larger black object that looked vaguely familiar.
It was the scouting cruiser of the pilot she was looking for. So, thats where it was. Standing on top of it was also the pilot himself, Crik, waving his arms frantically, hoping shed see him. By the side of the ship was a small boy still fully clothed (of course), sitting against the metal side still unconscious. BB-69 could be seen bumping into his side roughly, trying to stir him awake.
Phasma gave him a thoughtful look from behind her helmet. So when he went missing he somehow shrunk down and landed on this planet? It mightve been from colliding with some kind of wormhole
this is going to need some further investigation.
Phasma couldnt help but crack a little smile that no one could even see. So, what she was looking for had been right under her nose this whole time, or rather, beneath her boots. Thinking back now, her confusion almost seemed comical, imagining there was some giant creature out here when really, she was the giant monster.
Pilot 26-J95, Crik, Phasma said in a professional tone, looks like my mission is over.
Crik smiled wide, finally, he was getting rescued off this miserable rock! And by the legendary Phasma no less! Truth be told, he had a little celebrity crush on her; almost all the scouts did in his platoon, though.
However, Phasma continued, her tone becoming ominous and condescending, you do know, desertion from the First Order for any reason is a capital offense. One I am allowed to punish to the full severity that I see fit. Consider yourself, and that young insect I saw on the commlinks, terminated. The First Order will not allow potential Rebel informants to go free.
With those few words, Criks heart sank, and what was hopeful now existentially dismal.
W-wait!! he screamed, Captain!! It wasnt my fault!!!
But it was too late. With her free hand, Phasma reached towards the nape of her neck, grabbing and slowly pulling off her chrome helmet.
Her short spiked blonde hair seemed to shine in the planets sunlight, and her as dark and blue as the deepest lakes in the Galaxy, and relatively the wide as them from her captives perspective. A bead of sweat slowly trickled from her hair, down the left side of her head until getting absorbed by her black cape. Though it was top of the line in defense, that didnt mean her metal armor breathed well.
Keeping her helmet under her arm, the now revealed blonde beauty began unscrewing the lid to the container in her other hand. Screams could be heard increasing (though not by her) as the lid quickly came off, filling the sterile environment with fresh air from thousands of feet up.
Though I suppose we owe you a credit, J95, if you hadnt landed here, the First Order wouldnt have found these pathetic little bugs.
As she said this she brought the container up closer to her face, so the area around her eye took up most of the opening that was once clear blue sky. More screams were shouted as some were hysterically claiming it to be the eye of a goddess.
Though, with your discharge, I believe all credit will be going to me, Phasma said, smiling slightly. Shell undoubtedly be getting awards for a find like this. All record of your existence will be expunged. Theres no room in the First Orders history for an insect like you.
Now, time for your execution, Phasma said, giving her red lips a once over with her tongue.
As she said this, BB-69 was still attempting to wake up Alix, finally resorting to using his electrical output to taze the boy awake.
AH-AHHH! the young boy screamed as the rush of electricity was sent throughout his entire nervous system. Though, if he knew what was just above him, theres no doubt Alix wouldve rather been passed out for this. It was kind of a dick move on the droids part. Screams echoed all around him as Alix looked up to see a massive red blob descending from the sky.
While Phasma could hardly even see the speck-sized people without her helmet, she remembered roughly where Crik was in the small, shallow container.
As her tongue lowered, small drops of saliva dripped onto the bottom, entrapping dozens of samples in the thick gooey mire deep enough to drown in and thick enough there was no escape. Her tongue touched the bottom with barely a sound, instead softening and flattening out, the already massive red muscle becoming wider on both sides as it came to rest.
Already some were crushed beneath this red terror, their blood staining its tip and the underside of the container, though even such a sensitive thing couldnt even feel them.
Phasma giggled, which she almost never did, just imagining the terror in these tiny beings hearts. This was why she became a Captain. The power was amazing in any normal situation, but now it was increased a hundred-thousand fold!
As she very slowly scraped her tongue along the bottom of the container, more and more farmers and villagers were crushed. Those who werent were picked up by the slimy thing, getting caught on or between her taste buds.
Alix screamed, clinging to BB-69 as tight as he could, wishing hed wake up now from this horrible sci-fi nightmare that wasnt even worth the cost of commission. (err.. I meant admission!)
Crik, on the other hand, was already running in the opposite direction as fast as he could, leaving Alix and his droid behind. Truly a coward to the end.
The tongue finally collided with the ship, scraping it along the bottom with a loud hiss until finally lifting it up into the air, along with Alix, BB-69, and Crik, as well as dozens, maybe a hundred or two random inhabitants of the city, all either dead or wishing for it.
Phasma brought her tongue out of the container, keeping it sticking out as she twisted the top back on. She attached the container, as well as the MBS back onto her belt and lifted her helmet, staring into the back of the skull. In it she could see her reflection and, peering closely at her tongue, a tiny, almost invisible black dot that was Criks ship.
Crik and Alix were each caught on the red appendage but were both invisible to the giant woman they saw in the helmets reflection. BB-69, or the remains of him, were smashed to pieces against the crumbled, bent ship. Around them hundreds cried, some moaned in pain, but as Phasmas jaw closed, it would be the last sounds they ever made in their poor, pitiful lives.
Phasmas mouth closed with a smug smile. Lives ended as she swished her tongue around her mouth before finally swallowing. There was no way of telling how many were still on her tongue, trapped in saliva or between her teeth, but theyd all meet their end soon. But those were the lucky ones.
Phasma turned around, at last heading back towards her ship a few miles to the east. She savored each step, knowing that with each one came the death of countless numbers of these little vermin, all now owned by the glorious First Order.
Giantess World
