Chapter Text
“He’ll never let you rise to your true potential, you know that.”
Armitage Hux is no fool, but he is an opportunist.
“I trust that the Supreme Leader will make the right decisions for the First Order,” He says mechanically, and she smirks, knowing he doesn't believe a word of what he's saying.
Kira rises from her seat, rounds the table, lets her hand ghost over his shoulder. He can feel the power rolling off her, nearly drowning him in it. It’s heavy, almost suffocating, and everything in him wants to bow his head in an attempt to move the weight off of the air on top of it. She sits down on the edge of the table next to him, her hand delicately laid next to his nearly empty plate, and he forces himself to meet her eyes.
She steals a piece off his dinner roll, popping it in her mouth, and takes a sip of his water; leaving soft pink lipstick smudges on the glass.
“You know I can give you anything, if you stand by me.” Her dark eyes pierce his soul, and he flinches when he feels her brush over his mind; not deep enough to see anything but enough to make sure he knows she’s there, “The respect you deserve, the position you should have had long ago.”
She smiles at him, almost adoringly, but he knows better.
“Admiral Hux has a nice ring to it, don't you think?”
Snoke commands and controls with pain and suffering and humiliation. Loyalty through fear, effective, but Hux knows enough history to know that it won’t last forever.
Kira Ren gets loyalty from something far more effective, far more sinister. Sweet smiles and sweeter wine, promises, warm praise, dark lipstick and private dinners. She’s still an enforcer, yes, and no one forgets the way that she cuts down her enemies with a steady hand, but when it comes to choosing the lesser evil, it will always be her.
“It does.”
“I knew you’d think so. You’ll have that, and so much more,” She takes his hand in her own, leaning closer to him till they're breathing the same air, “If when the time comes, you swear your allegiance to me. Can you promise me that, Admiral? ”
“You’ll have it, Supreme Leader.”
Her smile turns sharp, eyes sparkling, “ Empress, Admiral.”
“My apologies, my Empress.”
She leans in and kisses him, as if to seal the deal, and then she’s gone, taking the rest of his dinner roll with her.
. . .
The next day, she appears on the bridge with new pins for his uniform coat.
Snoke’s body is found in the throne room an hour later, surrounded by the bodies of the Knights of Ren.
“The Supreme Leader is dead,” He says to the crew, her at his side, “Long live the Empress.”
Before the day is over, nothing of Snoke remains except for his memory and a handful of old policies. Her name is different, Empress Rey, with no family name at the end, and when they are alone, a celebratory dinner this time, he asks why.
“I am no one from nowhere, Admiral, who went to bed hungry for many years,” She takes her time picking from the fruit arrangement on the table, “And yet, despite that, I have become an Empress. No family name deserves the honor or the credit of my achievement, not even the one that the Knights of Ren held before their deaths.”
The fruit floats between her hands, being unpeeled by invisible hands, and when the rind falls to the floor, she splits the fruit in two and offers him half.
“I have many plans for the galaxy, Admiral, I’m thankful that such a capable leader as yourself is at my side.”
Flattery only works on fools, he knows this, and it shouldn't work on him. But he allows it to, or at least to appear that it does.
Armitage Hux is not a fool, he is an opportunist, and he’s not beneath playing nice to get what he wants.
He takes the fruit, and they eat in silence for a long time, till she retrieves a datapad from the side table.
“I have something I need you to work on.” She hands him the datapad, “As long as it’s done quickly and quietly, there will be no limit to your funding.”
He looks over the plans, raising an eyebrow, “A planet killer?”
Rey nods.
“The target?”
“Nothing heavily populated, it wouldn't look good. It’s for a...” She pauses, “ Special project.”
“It will be done, my Empress.”
When dinner is over, she sits on the edge of his chair and kisses him again; her hand cradling his cheek almost tenderly. Another brush over his mind, gentle, staying on the surface to where she can feel the wisps of emotion and no farther.
“I knew I could trust you with something this special, Admiral.”
She sweeps out of the room then, red robes flying behind her, the braided bun on the back of her head adorned with precious jewels that sparkle in the light.
Hux knows better than to think that he’s anything special to her. The kisses, the dinners, everything is simply another move to keep him close and in line; just like Snoke’s taunts and humiliation were.
Her actions aren't personal, aren't based off of emotion, but he’s been starved of praise and attention for so long that he craves it.
He’s not a fool, no, he’s an oppourtunist with a leader who is willing to give him a galaxy’s worth of attention and maybe even the galaxy itself for his loyalty.
. . .
There’s an accident, an explosion in the weapons department, and all of a sudden the ship is consumed with red lights and deafening alarms.
He’s standing outside the half-destroyed door into the department, watching restlessly as a crew tries to secure a pathway to the wounded and the still raging fire beyond it, when she arrives.
She runs down the hallway to them at full speed, screaming make way at a handful of stormtroopers in her path, and slows to a stop at his side. His hand falls to her lower back without a thought.
“How many are inside?”
“At least twenty dead, life support shows another thirty trapped by fire and rubble. Fire suppression is out. Medical team should be here within a minute.”
She closes her eyes, reaching out into the Force for a long moment, and they open again, set with resolve.
“There’s not enough time to clear a path, stand aside.”
The rescue team moves quickly out of her way, and she takes a deep, grounding breath before she stretches out her hands to the rubble. It shudders and groans angrily, but moves at her will, floating up to the ceiling and staying there.
“Go!” Hux yells to the teams standing around, and they do.
She stands there, tense and focused, for nearly fifteen minutes as they move the wounded and the bodies alike, clearing everyone and rushing them out of the hall. She sighs wearily, letting the warped metal fall, and her hands tremble.
“FN-2187,” She calls out, stepping away from Hux’s hand on her back, not even having to look at the printed number on the suit to know it is him, “Walk me to my quarters.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She takes his arm, and Hux catches the way she hides away her exhaustion to give the stormtrooper one of those sweet smiles. The one that makes you feel like you're the only one in the world.
Jealousy creeps up in his chest for a split second, and then he crushes it down; watching them round the corner.
He got too comfortable, too close, and she put him back in his place.
A lesson, a softer one, less humiliating than anything Snoke would have done, but a lesson nonetheless.
. . .
The first year of her reign comes to an end with thunderous applause and the end of their campaign in the Mid Rim.
A blaster bolt nearly hits her in the head, but she stops it with the movement of her hand, sending it harmlessly to the ground. Hux pulls her down behind the podium as the chaos grows and Stormtroopers fan out into the crowd.
The assassin is dragged before her, onto the stage, forced to the ground by the guards, a rifle against his head.
“Don’t,” She says, looking at the rifle, “Not unless he runs. Bring him to the ship.”
They pull him to his feet, and she reaches out, patting his cheek with a sick smile, “If he’s with the Resistance, what’s behind this pretty face might be of some use, don't you think, Admiral?”
“I do.” He gestures to the guards, “Cuff him and take him to the shuttle.”
FN-2187 nods and takes the prisoner away.