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During General Hux’s first onsite inspection of Ilum during the construction of Starkiller Base, he swore when he sneezed it turned to ice.
More than that, the wind changed direction and blew it all back into his face.
This kriffing planet was cold. Endless degrees below the chilliest depths of Arkanis’s great ocean. Hux was accustomed to low temperatures, but this Force-forsaken rock challenged him in every respect. Walking the borders of the trench with General Pryde, he focused on their conversation rather than the flecks of snow whipping over his greatcoat and hat. No matter which direction they turned, the wind smacked them head-on but failed to knock them to the ground.
The white spherical object, detected in his peripheral vision, might have achieved that had Hux not leaned to one side. Instead, the snowball sailed past him and Pryde, disintegrating as it lost speed and joined the rest of the show.
“Did… somebody throw that at us?” Pryde asked, not a hint of mirth in his voice. Expected. Hux doubted Pryde was ever a child who experienced any level of whimsy.
Hux gazed past the trench toward a thick copse of trees. Several black-clad bodies peered from behind tall trunks, then slipped out of view when he took a step forward. Gloved hands clasped behind his back, posture straight, Hux presented the pose of a man incapable of bowing to threats, no matter how absurd. Kylo Ren’s knights were the bane of his existence, as much as Ren himself. That these so-called warriors would stoop so low as to goad him and Pryde in such a childish manner further solidified their uselessness in the First Order, in his mind.
“An anomaly, I’m certain. Not to occur again.” Stand down, Ren, Hux warned in silence, hoping Kylo got the message. He was cold, and tired, and already aggravated from enduring Pryde’s company. The moment they finished this walkabout, Hux vowed to beeline to his quarters and shuck his wet outer garments. Wrap up in his good robe, fix a warm mug of tea, and decompress under the sheets with Millicent purring on his lap.
Yet, Pryde’s focus stayed on the snowball attack. “We’ve swept this area for signs of life, yes?” he asked. “Either relocated or terminated the wildlife?”
“The Empire achieved much of that long before our arrival, but yes, we–”
“What about Ewoks? They’re prone to survive in harsh climates, yes?” Pryde studied their prints in the snow, then glanced back toward the woods. “They have opposable thumbs, they’re capable of attack.”
“Pryde, I’d hardly think a tribe of Ewoks throwing snowballs constitutes a threat against the entire First Order,” Hux said, but Pryde–the nerf in boots–wasn’t listening.
Time for a different tack. “Tell me, Pryde,” he said, crouching, “does it snow much on Alsakan?”
“No.” Pryde shook his head. “I dare say I didn’t see snow until I left my homeworld.”
Hux had three snowballs, patted down into tight spheres of ice, lined up in front of him. He gathered another generous scoop of snow onto his gloves. Never mind the thoughts racing through Pryde’s head at the moment. Hux knew he looked silly and he hardly cared.
“Arkanis experiences insufferable winters. In some parts, the coast literally freezes and you can walk out onto the ocean’s surface a few clicks to feed the whales if you like,” Hux said. Fourth snowball done, fifth in progress. “As children, we used to play a game. Target practice, actually.
“We selected the weakest in the group,” he continued, and stretched to his full height on completing his stores. Eight perfectly identical snowballs. “The boy who incapacitated the target first won everybody’s sweets rations for the day. I won regularly.”
Pryde smirked long at Hux, though careful not to step on any of the spheres. “You mean to say you were never chosen as the target, Hux? I find that difficult to believe.”
“Because I’m thin? And pale?” Hux challenged. “Why assume those qualities are not assets? Pryde, I may not crave this type of weather, but I assure you I am built for it. To survive the threat of a snow fight you require three things: speed, agility, and excellent vision.”
Back straight again, chin high, hands clamped behind him, Hux bade Pryde to scan the forest. “How many Knights of Ren do you see lurking among the trees?”
Pryde hesitated a moment, and squinted at the dark movements in the distance. “Five.”
“Wrong.”
Hux transformed into a blur of black himself, bending effortlessly to retrieve one snowball at a time. He used his long arms and fingers to his advantage, winding up to pitch each one at the helmet of a knight poking out to gauge the battlefield.
Swipe, whiff, POW! Not once, but several times in the space of a standard minute. Hux aimed for the eyeshields and hoped each one filled with snow. It worked. He nearly cackled at the sight of Ren’s knights staggering from their temporary blindness and ramming into the trees.
Pryde, all the while, watched on in bewilderment. Then, “Impressive, Hux. Six down, and you have artillery to spare.”
“Not for long.” Hux brushed fallen flakes from his greatcoat and whirled around to face his final target. Pryde gasped his surprise on seeing how Kylo Ren had crept up behind them without so much as a crunching footfall in the snow.
Hux collected his last two snowballs in one hand and shot one straight at Kylo’s helmet. It exploded on contact, scattering ice across the eyeshield and streaking melted snow down into the vocoder. Kylo’s grunt of dissatisfaction warped with the interference.
Hux smiled, and aimed the second snowball for Kylo’s crotch. He nearly released it when Kylo called for a truce.
“It’s cold enough without the added discomfort.” Kylo raised a hand and the snow sphere melted in Hux’s hand.
“I’d have helped you warm it back up,” Hux said.
Kylo nodded. “I’d have insisted.”
“I didn’t have to hear that,” Pryde said.
Kylo gestured toward the woods. “My knights could use some assistance warming up,” he said. “Pryde, why don’t you go see about that?”
“I beg your pard–”
But Kylo had waved with the Force and sent Pryde airborne, arcing into the woods where he landed back first against two of the knights. The wind swallowed Pryde’s shouts of protest, and Hux turned back only to signal a quiet farewell to the other general, to wish him luck.
Kylo pressed closer, sliding an arm around Hux’s waist. “If you could wield a lightsaber as well as you throw, every Knight of Ren would bow.”
“One is enough for now,” Hux said, steering Kylo toward the ship in the distance. “Let’s get you inside, undressed, and warmed up, shall we?” He turned back toward the woods. “Will Pryde be okay in the custody of your knights?”
“Do you really care?” Kylo asked.
“No, I suppose not.”