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Sometimes, Hux wonders just what exactly goes on in the minds of traitors. Take FN-2187, who had thrown away everything he'd ever known for something he probably couldn’t even understand. Is it mere cowardice? A presentation of the too-human fear of death and self-sacrifice? Greed? An act of rebellion to reclaim his non-existent personhood? Perhaps FN-2187 had found his duties painful, some moralistic part of himself which had no right to exist taking hold over his limited consciousness, infecting him with the very chaotic forces Hux sought to stamp out in the world.
Hux doesn’t believe for a second that one of his Stormtroopers would actually fall for the tripe the Resistance calls an ideology. Yet personal misgivings, skewed values, concealed motivations – those deeper, more insidious forces that can demolish decades of sustained conditioning and peer pressure – those are harder catch and even more difficult to anticipate.
In the aftermath of a defection that led to the destruction of their most powerful weapon, Hux stares at the screens of his console, reading and re-reading every word of their training manuals. They have been carefully perfected over generations, with contingencies upon contingencies, strategy for every possibility. Reward for obedience, reconditioning for nonconformity, death for betrayal.
In light of everything they have lost, another failure cannot be permitted. And yet, even as he reads each long-memorised word, he sees nothing he can change. The Stormtrooper had been let free on the ship due to a lapse in performance, not a lapse in policy. He can’t change procedures that have already been optimised without increasing risk and putting undue stress on the soldiers, punishment only goes so far when no one, technically, did anything wrong.
Hux stares at his plans, helpless against his frustrations.
He doesn’t know what to do.
-
The truth is, some things are predestined, no matter how carefully you plan to prevent it.
-
The meeting chamber is as disquieting and impressive as it has always been, reducing everything Hux is and will be into something insignificant and small. On this particular day, Supreme Leader Snoke seems no more or less inscrutable than usual. Which means that when Hux hears the orders that come after a routine progress report on his latest project, he is entirely unprepared.
“You are to become intimate with Kylo Ren.”
Hux freezes, schooling his expression in time only through the practice of habit. “I…” What? He stands in shock, and it's Snoke's next words that save from losing any more of his dignity to his stammering confusion.
“He has developed an interest in you, General.” Snoke rumbles, running a critical eye over Hux, who does his best not to cower under the scrutiny. “And I sense that his interest is returned.”
Hux doesn’t manage to hide his flinch at those words. His attraction to Kylo Ren is an inconvenience, and he has made every effort to ensure that's all there is and will ever be to it. Yet he forgets, sometimes, how little stays private before the Supreme Leader.
“You have been wise not to act on this interest,” Snoke continues, showing no sign of whether he is amused or disgusted by Hux's weakness. “But the time for that has now passed.”
Hux tightens his jaw, his face a mask of impassiveness he knows convinces no one.
“Kylo Ren’s commitment to the dark side has become unstable, and I require someone to remind him of its power. That person, General, will be you.”
Hux blinks, painfully aware of how little he knows of the Force. What can physical intimacy achieve for Kylo Ren? The man could have any man or woman on the ship if he demands it, they would even come willingly. It doesn’t have to be Hux.
Snoke continues, perhaps considerate of Hux’s confusion, or perhaps enjoying the sound of his own voice. “His strength will grow only if he understands the importance of emotion and passion. Kylo Ren must recognise the strength that comes from indulgence.”
And just like that, Kylo Ren’s spontaneous outbursts and emotional episodes of destruction are provided justification. It makes his actions no less forgivable, yet the frustration against him that had been simmering inside Hux abruptly dims into something lighter.
“Do you understand my expectations, General?”
Hux casts his gaze downward, unable to help the image of pale skin and dark eyes that flashes across his mind. “Yes, Supreme Leader.”
He still doesn’t understand why, but he doesn’t need to.
Orders are orders, and they will be obeyed.
-
Snoke gives neither a deadline nor instruction beyond that simple, basic order for intimacy. So Hux assumes he has free reign in deciding how to handle what is to come.
Their repairs budget, Hux muses during periods of distraction, will probably have to be bumped up. Kylo Ren already has no sense of propriety. If he is to push the man to indulge in more of his basic instincts, then there will certainly be destruction on its way.
All of it assuming, of course, that Hux is successful in seducing Kylo Ren into his bed. The thought that his interest is genuinely returned still feels preposterous most of the time, especially in the cooling moments following yet another petty argument Hux can’t seem to resist allowing. Yet Hux knows better than to question the Supreme Leader’s wisdom. If Snoke says it’s true, then it must be true.
If he says something must be done, then it will.
The approach, of course, will have to be carefully negotiated. Kylo Ren is a powder keg on the best of days and a proximity mine on the worst. He has an interest in Hux, whatever that means. The way his heart flutters at the thought is a normal physical response. That is all. The best strategy will make itself clear to Hux in time.
And if Phasma tells him he’s avoiding Kylo Ren, well.
Well.
-
When Hux gets the emergency summons from Kylo, he takes a full eight minutes to finish off his report before actually answering. If it is any sort of real emergency, it’d come through Phasma or one of the Colonels. Hux is hard pressed to imagine any sort of actual disaster that can be expected at the shooting range.
When he arrives another five minutes later after a detour to his own quarters, Kylo Ren is waiting too patiently in a way that tells Hux nothing good is about to happen.
Kylo, who had been sitting quietly on one of the benches, stands when Hux walks through the door. “I require your assistance in a small matter.”
Before Hux can formulate an answer, Kylo proceeds to walk up to him and hand him a blaster carbine. It’s their latest model. KA-742. Retractable stock. Updated rapid cooling system. Full automatic fire.
“What am I supposed to do with this?” Hux says, looking at the weapon in a mix of confusion and disdain.
“Shoot me with it,” Kylo says, turning with a dramatic sweep of his robes and beginning the walk toward the end of the shooting range.
Hux, unimpressed, watches him leave. “If you’re experiencing suicidal thoughts, I suggest talking to one of the on-board psychiatrists.”
“That’s not-” Kylo looks away. “Just do what I say.”
“If you tell me why, I might consider it,” Hux says, putting the weapon down on a table. “I’ll have you know there are better things I could be doing in this moment than entertaining your whims.”
“Pick up the blaster.” Kylo says, forcefully.
Hux raises an eyebrow. Kylo doesn’t move, and Hux takes it as his cue to leave. He’s barely turned around when Kylo stops him with a pained concession.
“Wait.”
Hux turns back.
“I’m trying to see if I can stop a series of shots from an automatic weapon. If I can manage it, it will be a significant advantage in battle.”
Hux’s gaze turns considering, and it flickers once to the weapon on the table. He's heard of this aspect of Kylo's ability, if only through the reverent tales of his officers. It's comforting, in a way, to see there are definitely limitations to what he can do, just as it is to witness his eagerness to improve. “Are you sure you’re ready for this?” Hux says, placing one hand on the weapon. He doesn’t want to accidentally kill one of the greatest warriors within the First Order.
“Yes. You won’t be here if I wasn’t.”
Knowing Kylo Ren, that is a fact up for debate. Hux is willing to indulge him this time, but there is one question he is curious to hear the answer to. “And why me?”
For a brief moment, Kylo hesitates. "You seem like you’d enjoy the opportunity.”
He’s not exactly wrong, though the words decidedly rub Hux in the wrong way. “As much as I appreciate this opportunity to do something I have always wanted to, you do understand that I have no actual desire to see you hurt, right?”
The sliver of honesty seems to take Kylo by surprise, and the silence that follows stretches long enough to almost feel awkward.
“Of course,” Kylo says eventually, standing stiff-limbed at the end of the shooting range. “Now fire the weapon.”
Hux raises the gun in one smooth motion and unloads the entire ammo pack in Kylo’s direction. Streaks of blue fly toward Kylo, and then freeze into place one after another in bright, crackling bolts of energy.
Hux watches the suspended bolts, undeniably impressed. But still-
“How about we try multiple shots from different directions?” There are reliable officers he can summon to assist them.
"You said you weren't trying to hurt me." Kylo says, peering at Hux through the web of energy.
Hux frowns. "I did say something like that. Are you up for the challenge?"
The answer, unsurprisingly, is yes.
-
Kylo has an interest in you.
Hux catches himself smiling at the thought one day, and then has to force his lips back into a neutral line. Of all the sentimental traps for him to have fallen right into, it just had to come in the form of a mentally-unhinged and overgrown Knight of Ren.
-
He successfully spends two entire weeks without doing anything about his new orders. Instead of insinuating himself into Kylo Ren's bed, he remains on pleasantly unpleasant terms with the knight, insults Kylo at every presented opportunity, and overall does his best to be completely normal – the few times he failed to pre-emptively find somewhere else to be when Kylo Ren enters a room.
Kylo Ren, if he notices anything suspicious in Hux’s normal behaviour, doesn’t say a thing.
Then, inevitably, news arrives that Kylo Ren had destroyed an entire wall of consoles in the server room.
-
The room is clear by the time Hux arrives, the techs and even the guards having already fled for their lives the moment the lightsaber came out. All that is left are the broken and sparking electronics, carved into jagged pieces by Kylo’s rage. Kylo Ren himself is also nowhere to be seen, undoubtedly sulking again inside his quarters.
Hux takes one look at the wreckage and goes hunting.
People scatter and hide when they see him stalking down the corridors of the Finalizer with murder on his mind. The distance from the server room to Kylo Ren’s quarters is just the right length for Hux to work himself into a proper rage. That thoughtless, belligerent knight and his over-inflated sense of entitlement. This is his ship, Hux thinks, and he will not stand for any more of this destruction.
The doors to Kylo’s rooms, curiously, automatically sweep open at his approach. Hux is too furious to wonder why.
“You destroyed a quarter of our servers,” Hux says before he even lays eyes on Kylo Ren. In the next second, he finds the man sitting in a chair, mask on the table, watching him with those unfairly striking eyes. Hux wishes he would put the mask back on, if only so Hux won’t lose his train of thought at inopportune moments like this.
“You have back-ups,” Kylo Ren says with a disquieting calm.
And back-ups of those back-ups. But that is beside the point. “Just- This will not happen again. Do you even have any idea how much it costs to replace everything you’ve destroyed?” Hux doesn’t have it in his budget. Neither does he want to have an inflated repairs budget just because Snoke saw fit to saddle him with his most insufferable knight.
This time, Kylo Ren only glares at him, and the absence of a smart-mouthed comment makes Hux pleased for all of two seconds before Kylo Ren finds it in himself anyway.
“Do not presume to tell me what I can and cannot do, General.” Kylo rises to his full height, and not for the first time, Hux finds himself hating that two inches between them.
“You forget you are still on my ship, Ren,” Hux returns, stepping even closer as he wields the name as a title and a saber of his own. “Do not presume you will be permitted to get away with this behaviour without consequence.”
Kylo’s eyes flicker then, seemingly involuntarily, to Hux’s lips, before they catch Hux’s glare a second time. Their proximity makes the tell impossible to miss, and Hux, emboldened with their leader’s permission, dares to pull his lips back in a smirk.
“Do you enjoy this? Ren?” Hux says, throwing caution to the wind. Kylo blinks, his expression going conspicuously blank. Hux’s gaze sweeps down Kylo’s body, musing on what is hidden beneath the layers of black clothing. “Tell me, why did you destroy those consoles?”
It can’t be for Hux’s attention.
“I received displeasing news,” Kylo replies in a monotone. There is tension in his eyes, in his jaw, signs of uncharacteristic self-control.
“Well, the next time you have the problem of dealing with your displeasure,” Hux says slowly, “come find me instead, and I promise to resolve these issues personally.”
Then, he turns and exits the room, pleased and uncaring of whether Kylo understood the meaning of his words.
-
One week and a disastrous mission later, Kylo Ren sweeps into Hux’s quarters and starts to pace.
Hux, startled out of catching up on his reading, watches him for a while in bored amusement, before going back to the report. As Hux reads, Kylo paces the length of his room, stalking back and forth like an impatient beast trapped in a too-small cage. The helmet tilts as he steals glances at Hux, once, twice. Hux muffles a sigh and settles to wait, one ankle resting on his knee.
He reaches the end of the document, and still, Kylo has not made his move.
Finally, Hux puts down his datapad, and switches his comm setting to emergencies only. Then, he turns his attention to Kylo, who had stilled completely, watching his every move from behind that ugly helmet.
“Do you want this or not?” Hux says with a tilt of his head.
Those words finally do the trick, and Hux watches in giddy anticipation as Kylo’s hands fly to his helmet, which unlocks with a hiss before he pulls it from his head. Freed, thick black hair fall around his face, and Hux gets caught in his imagination, thinking of the way it would feel in his grip, or wound between his fingers.
Their eyes meet, and Hux hides every torrid desire within him with a look of practiced dispassion. Instead, he rakes his gaze over Kylo’s body, considering the promise of muscle and skin that lurks underneath his shapeless robes.
When their gaze meet again, Kylo’s eyes are dark, hungry in a way that sends an expectant thrill shooting down Hux’s spine.
Well? He challenges with a raised brow and a smirk. Impress me.
-
As it turns out, Ren wants it, he wants it very, very much.
And he is very impressive indeed.
-
Afterward, everything changes, and everything goes on just as before. They still bicker relentlessly, though now, despite Hux’s predictions, fewer expensive electronics get caught in the crossfire. In a normal week, Hux works on his administrative and strategic tasks, while Kylo disappears to various planets, furthering the cause in his unique, destructive ways. His officers are still as afraid of Kylo Ren as Hux is fearless.
On some nights Hux finds Kylo waiting outside his quarters. On most nights, he doesn’t.
-
Then, on a day like any other, Hux returns to his quarters to find Kylo asleep on the bed with Millicent curled on his chest, purring loudly. Hux hadn’t expected Kylo to show up tonight, knowing that the knight had only just returned from an extended mission and must, as evidence demonstrates, be exhausted.
Still, the scene is so bewildering Hux stares for half a minute before he snaps out of his amazement and goes about his routine, removing the burdensome parts of his uniform and settling into a seat with his datapad in his lap. His favourite theorist has just released a new analytical volume, and he’s been waiting for a chance to finally start reading.
Forty minutes passes before Kylo’s voice intrudes upon Hux’s pleasant evening.
“You’re back.”
“Mmhm,” Hux says, looking up with a smile that only grows when he sees Kylo, trapped and helpless beneath the small, furry body of Hux’s favourite feline.
“Stop staring and help me.”
Hux gives his response with his usual decisive authority. “No.”
Kylo’s face crumples, and he reacts by staring at the ceiling with a tiny downturn to his lips. Over time, as Hux scrolls through the text and peeks up once in a while, the frown disappears, slowly replaced by a barely discernible smile.
Nothing happens that night. Kylo eventually falls asleep again in Hux’s bed, and doesn’t wake even when Hux climbs in to join him.
-
Three weeks after the last incident, wherein they return to their usual routine with the mutual, unspoken agreement to never discuss what happened that night, Kylo Ren sweeps into Hux’s quarters unannounced.
Hux is relaxing with a glass of brandy and a half-finished game of dejarik, and Kylo stops abruptly three steps in, gaze fixed on the game as though he’d never expected Hux to have any sort of human hobby. Hux glances at him once and then does a double take, slightly confused by the odd, almost vulnerable expression on Kylo’s face. He waits for a smart comment, but it doesn’t come.
“You can join me if you like,” Hux says, with gentleness that surprises even himself. He only wants to wipe that broken expression from Kylo’s face.
Kylo looks at him then, his shoulders hunched, looking entirely uncertain. Then, he hesitantly shuffles toward the opposite seat and folds himself into it, taking the winning side as Hux switches the settings to versus mode.
“Do you know the rules?” Hux says, after a sip of his drink. He focuses on the board, opting to respect Kylo’s silence and pretend there is nothing strange in this moment.
“Yes.”
Fifteen minutes later, the board has been completely turned to Hux’s advantage. Kylo Ren, surprising no one familiar with his approach to battle, is terrible at the game. The man is pure rage and raw instinct and plays too aggressively by half, willing to risk precious pieces for minimal rewards. Careless is a polite way of putting things.
“Are you sure you want to do that?” Hux says as he watches Kylo put one of his pieces into Hux’s direct line of fire.
Kylo looks up at Hux in annoyance, his brow in a deep furrow. Then, he stoops over the board again, chin in hand, and ultimately sends a different piece on the road to self-sacrifice.
Hux sighs, and decides to let him suffer a little longer. Instead of pushing his advantage, he moves a minor piece to trap Kylo in a corner, hiding a smirk as the furrow in Kylo’s brow grows even deeper. With one hand, he fills Kylo’s glass again, and Kylo cradles his drink in front of him, taking small sips without ever once looking up from the board. Hux is already plotting his retaliation to Kylo’s possible moves.
Then Kylo makes a move Hux never anticipated and he has to start his plotting entirely anew, his smirk turned into a frown. He forgets, in this moment of quiet between them, every responsibility still weighing upon his shoulders, waiting for his attention just beyond this small bubble in time.
Kylo loses the first game, as well as the game after. That night, they play dejarik well into the small hours of the morning. Hux, once he figures out Kylo has no intentions of letting either of them sleep until he wins, is forced to sabotage his own game.
Somehow, Kylo’s victorious smirk as he takes the last of Hux’s pieces is even more delightful than the promise of sleep.
-
Things on the Finalizer never go entirely smoothly for long. After two blissful months of minimal disruptions comes three consecutive days where Hux gets barely a total eight hours of rest. Through a string of near-disasters and emergencies, his headache grows worse until it’s hard to stay on his feet. When the crises are finally resolved and he is free, the walk back to his quarters feels like moving through fog, the world in turn distant and suffocating.
Through luck and pure stubbornness, Hux makes it back to the safety of his own rooms, and lets out a breath the moment the doors close behind him.
He barely makes it two steps inside before the world tilts, and abruptly goes black.
-
When he wakes, it's with a burning headache and his head on a pillow. He’s lying on something soft, and it’s quiet, too quiet to be the medical bay. Absently, through the haze in his mind, he wonders how he got here, to a bed, because that seems to be where he is. His head hurts, and he feels both hot and cold at the same time. If this means he’s ill then he will be very, very annoyed.
Hux opens his eyes and finds Kylo Ren sitting at his bedside, arms crossed and frowning down at him.
“You need to take better care of yourself.”
That is one question answered. Thankfully, the familiar surroundings tell him he’s still in his quarters. At least he’s saved the humiliation of being carried through the hallways for everyone to see.
“Shut up,” is Hux's polite response. “How did you-?”
“I could feel you from the other side of the ship. You’re like a walking beacon of misery.”
“Charming. Truly.” Hux doesn’t have the mental capacity to decipher the revelations in Kylo’s words. How easy is it for him to keep tabs on Hux? Or rather, just how hard is it to keep secret the things Hux would rather Kylo Ren not know? Hux studies Kylo, and finds, to his annoyance, that something warms inside of him at the sight of Kylo’s worried countenance. “Do you say that to all the officers you sleep with?”
Kylo’s expression turns into an unfairly endearing look of confusion and offense. “No.”
Hux’s eyes slip closed, hiding a tiny smile at the meaningless victory he'd just wrangled. The pain in his head is a steady presence, and he thinks he should tell Kylo to leave. Hux doesn’t enjoy putting on a show of wretchedness the way Kylo does.
Then he remembers Kylo’s broad chest, his strong arms, that intoxicating warmth, and in a moment of weakness he half-opens his eyes and says: “Take off your clothes and get in here.”
Kylo freezes, his eyes going wide. Then, he starts pulling off his clothing with clumsy, eager movements. Hux watches with slitted eyes, appreciative of the show. When he is down to smallclothes, Kylo climbs into bed next to Hux and moulds himself against Hux’s body.
Hux hides a grin as the bubbly light feeling inside him threatening to make him do something too revealing. Instead, he moves around until he is comfortably pressed against Kylo’s chest, one arm tucked between them, the other slung over Kylo’s narrow waist. Hux inhales deeply, and feels himself drifting, surrounded by Kylo’s scent, basking in a too-pleasant comfort.
Within moments, he is asleep, his last memory of Kylo nosing at his hair and the soft press of lips against his forehead.
That, in retrospect, is his first mistake.
-
There is something about being held in Kylo’s arms, and the feeling it offers, that has Hux growing more and more addicted with each passing encounter. It isn’t something Hux can in good conscience call comfort. Instead, it is a stillness, an absence of the usual chaotic thoughts that occupies Hux’s mind. Plans and contingencies sunk beneath the flat surface of tranquillity, too deep to be seen or found. In Kylo’s arms, it is as though the rest of the world ceases to be.
Sometimes. Kylo would brush his fingers through Hux’s hair, gentle strokes that makes something inside Hux want to curl up and purr. At other times, he’d press slow, lingering kisses to Hux’s skin, following messy yet determined lines that only Kylo could have understood.
But more than anything, they’d just lie there, skin against skin, the points of contact the only thing that matters. The sheets, the air, even Hux himself, carries Kylo’s scent. And Hux would let his consciousness drift in time with Kylo’s soft breaths, or the steady beat of his heart.
It isn’t comfort they share, but peace.
And that is wrong.
-
Kylo’s Ren’s new summons land Hux in the middle of a deserted gym, dressed in training clothes.
“Why am I here?” Hux says, needing to confirm his suspicions.
“I’m training you.”
Hux’s suspicions are confirmed, and he resists the urge to roll his eyes and return to the change room.
“I’m not force-sensitive.”
“But you could use the practice, you’re practically a beanpole.”
Hux takes umbrage to that statement, and so they fight.
The practice swords are a familiar weight in Hux’s hands, and it takes two rounds before the training slowly, but steadily, returns to him. In the flow of movement, Hux realises he’d forgotten the thrill of sparring in the overly sedentary lifestyle demanded of a general. What time he can spare at the gym is usually reserved for high intensity training that requires the minimum commitment of time and yet achieves maximum results. It’s been too long since he’s had a chance to go all out like this, and it gives release to frustrations he wasn’t even aware he was carrying.
The third round continues on. Hux moves forward, spins, and with a secret manoeuvre, knocks Kylo’s sword from his hand. Kylo yelps and leaps back in surprise, shaking his hand at the pain.
“You shouldn’t try to go easy on me.” Hux says with a blossoming smirk. He may be out of practice, but he is still in excellent condition, and top prize at the academy didn’t come easy.
“Alright.” There’s an excited gleam in Kylo’s eyes as he retrieves his weapon, and they start again. Within moments, Hux recognises the strength of the Master of the Knights of Ren. Kylo’s movements are not nearly as fast as he remembers witnessing, nor his strikes as forceful. He is still holding back, and yet Hux can barely keep up with the blows.
Steadily, Hux is forced backwards, his movements purely defensive as he dodges and parries strike after strike.
Then, his foot catches against something he didn’t see, and he’s falling.
Kylo’s eyes widen, and he reaches forward, something – the Force – gently wrapping itself around Hux, righting his balance. Hux uses the momentum to throw himself forward, hooking one leg behind Kylo’s knee and pulling him down. He’s cackling as he falls on top of Kylo, pinning him to the mat with the sword at his throat.
“You cheated!” Kylo yells, with too much laughter in his voice for his outrage to be convincing. He doesn’t even struggle beneath Hux’s weight, and Hux settles more comfortably, straddling Kylo’s lap.
“No,” Hux says, nudging him with the tip of the sword. “You underestimated your opponent.” Again. Hux is hardly so unaware of his surroundings that he’d trip that easily. “If you keep this up you’re just going to keep losing.”
“Let’s go again?” Kylo says, eyes wide and all too trusting.
Hux frowns. “Not before I take my hard-won prize.”
He moves his sword aside, and leans forward to steal a kiss.
-
If Hux had to pick a favourite thing about the world they’re fighting for, it’s the idea that everyone will have a place where they belong. There will be no inner turmoil, no dilemmas or crises as people stand torn, crippled by possibility. It will be a simple world, where people will have the opportunity and discipline to achieve their full potential, each life fulfilled.
He talks about it sometimes with Kylo, about his perfect, ordered world, where there would be no war or hunger. Each person will have what they need or the opportunities to earn it. There won’t be people inciting hatred and creating chaos under the guise of freedom. There would only be peace, and stability, individuals able to thrive and grow without being victim to the whims and cruelty of others.
Kylo, strangely enough, doesn’t like it. He talks about the necessity of expression, the inevitability of dissonance, and the dangers of placing arbitrary limits on things people cannot control. He calls Hux’s world oppressive and insensitive, unrealistic, dangerous.
“Order and oppression are not the same thing,” Hux says, frustrated that Kylo of all people cannot understand him.
“But one cannot exist without the other,” Kylo replies, unmoved. Their bed is perhaps not the best place for political discussions, yet the bareness of skin and the warmth of contact makes the space feel safe somehow, as though nothing here has the power to hurt them.
“That is only true if there is conflict, and that can be avoided, it can be overcome.” Hux is sprawled inelegantly across the sheets, though he feels like he’s back in the academy, debating theory in front of the instructor. “Civilisation only exists because people were able to sacrifice their freedoms in exchange for order and security.”
“And each of those civilisations inevitably collapsed when people begin to forget their reasons for working together in the first place. They start to disagree about basic things, each side will claim they are the one who has sacrificed the most. There is no such thing as the type of peace you’re looking for, conflict is unavoidable.”
“Unless you have the right leadership. We will have strategies to counteract that. We will teach them their history, remind them of the suffering they endured before we brought order to them, we will give them no reason to doubt the value of an ordered existence. We will be better.”
“And you truly think we can achieve that?” Kylo says, thoughtful. His fingers run down the line of Hux’s shoulders, so light it tickles.
“The First Order has come this far, Kylo, and that’s not without reason,” Hux says, shifting so he can look Kylo in the eyes. Wide brown eyes stare back at him, curious. “The New Republic achieves nothing, and its senate remains in deadlock fighting for factional interests as its people starve and struggle just to stay alive. We can change that.”
Kylo looks at him then, and Hux thinks he sees pride in his eyes, affection. “So you want to save the world?”
“Don’t.” Hux does his best to frown. “We may very well have to destroy a good part of it before it can be remade. But no matter what, we will change things. We can show the people the truth behind the propaganda. Their democracy is useless, and it only empowers their privileged while shifting the blame onto people stripped of the capacity to help themselves. Nothing will be fixed if they continue to believe in their broken system.”
“And if people disagree?” Kylo is hooking a leg over Hux’s and dragging him even closer.
That is easy. “Then we kill them.”
Kylo’s kiss is a sweet promise of wonderful things to come.
-
Kylo Ren, being obnoxious to a fault, starts harassing Hux about his slip of the tongue almost as soon as they find release after another thrilling, pleasant tumble. He drapes himself over Hux and puts his lips against Hux’s ear, not caring how much it tickles.
“You called me Kylo.”
If Hux has any energy left, he might feel mortified.
“Shut up and go to sleep,” is Hux’s dignified reply.
-
The thing is, Kylo Ren is supposed to only be Ren. That is all. He is just another knight. Only a knight. Just like Hux is a general. Ren is as much name as it is title, and calling him that is Hux’s best way to remind himself of his place, of the requisite distance that must exist between them.
Attachment is the worst kind of weakness.
Kylo Ren is only Ren, that is all.
Hux is only a general. Obedience is its own reward.
If Snoke says something must be done, then it will.
-
Kylo feels things too deeply. Or perhaps, more accurately, he lacks the casual air of callousness Hux is used to cultivating in himself. Detachment is the requirement of professionalism and the default state for Hux and his people. To everyone, discipline has come to be so expected that any outward emotionality is more than merely jarring to witness.
The most remarkable and problematic part of Kylo’s inconvenient sensitivity is the increasingly apparent fact that it’s not something born of conscious effort, but simply Kylo’s very nature of being. Capable in turn of both terrifying perceptiveness and obliviousness, Kylo Ren is sensitive to others’ thoughts and needs in a way that Hux still can’t quite comprehend. Does it improve his connection to the mysterious ‘Force’? Or is it his force-sensitivity that makes him the way he is? All Hux knows is that it means that Kylo must learn how not to care if he is to protect himself in this world. Or else he will be forever getting hurt, and Hux won’t ever stop seeing his tearstained cheeks and reddened eyes.
Hux says as much one evening, three drinks into a bottle of expensive gifted wine, as he sits half sprawled across Kylo’s bed, pinned in place by the weight of Kylo’s head in his lap. Kylo’s raised arm, along with the datapad in his hand, falls onto the sheets.
“You sound like my father,” is Kylo’s response, and there’s an edge in his tone which tells Hux the thought comes without any fondness.
“I sound like my own too.” Hux muses, feeling slightly sick at the thought. Brendol Hux had never had the magnanimity for his wisdom to take any form other than condescension.
That topic of conversation goes no further.
It doesn’t mean Hux is wrong.
-
One thing Hux and Kylo share, despite all their differences, might be their hatred of their own fathers. Still, hate is too simple a word for the kind of relationship they share with that particular parent. There is nothing in their language that adequately captures the mix of disappointment, disgust, and frustration that mere memory can inspire inside them. Kylo murdered his own and now lives in regret. Hux regrets not being the one to kill the man who brought him into being.
On the anniversary of his father’s death, Hux is inundated with encouragement and condolences. His father was a great man, the messages tell him. Hux’s accomplishments do justice to his legacy.
Hux wonders, in the privacy of his own room and Kylo’s presence, if they’d still be as enthusiastic if they knew the kind of man he truly was. He thinks of his father and only remembers the belt, the incoherent rants, the impossible demands, and only feels filthier with each new reminder. Each time a name gives Brendol Hux the credit for everything Hux himself had fought tooth and nail to achieve, it sounds like a justification for every moment of agony Hux had gone through, echoes of his father’s proclamations of this is what’s good for you, boy, each word punctuated with the crack of his belt.
Thank you for your message, he sends back to the ignorant masses. Your thoughts are appreciated.
The night of the anniversary, Hux drinks his entirety of his limited store of alcohol and passes out on top of his own bed. When he wakes up the next morning, groggy and suspiciously pain-free, Kylo is there, curled next to him, staring in that creepy way which oddly only makes Hux want to snuggle closer.
“Why didn’t you stop me?” Hux grumbles against Kylo’s chest, miserable. There had been expensive things in that cabinet, things he had been saving for a better occasion.
“You needed it,” Kylo said flatly.
“I…” A horrid possibility rears forward, and his already sour mood grows worse with anger. He leans back with a glare. “Did you read my mind?”
“I didn’t need to.”
The idea that he has become so easy to read rankles Hux, and he doesn’t know what to do with the warmth that flares inside him in that moment.
“I have to get up,” he says.
“Five more minutes.”
-
On Hux’s birthday, he returns to his quarters to find Kylo sitting behind a cake. It looks like a sponge cake, lathered in cream and topped with berries. It also looks delicious.
“Happy Birthday,” Kylo says, his gaze flickering between Hux and the cake.
Hux takes a moment then just to stare at the scene in front of him, scrambling to accept that yes, this is something that is happening to him at this very second. He wants to ask what, though the what is evidently Kylo Ren, sitting in Hux’s chair, with a cake in front of him on the table. He wants to ask why, though that part is similarly obvious. Today is Hux’s birthday.
Kylo Ren decided it was somehow necessary and appropriate to show up in Hux’s room with a cake on his birthday.
“Where did you even get that?” Is what he says in the end, with a lot less bewilderment than he feels. Cake is not and has never been part of the cafeteria menu. And he is mostly certain that fresh berries is not even on their supply list.
Hux goes to remove his coat and his gloves, returning the items to their places of storage. Kylo, suspiciously, does not answer. When Hux turns back to the man and the cake, he finds Kylo staring down at his offering, his lips pressed in something that looks dangerously like a pout. It makes a new feeling slip into the swirl of bewilderment inside Hux, something sour yet sweet, yet so light it pulls at the corners of his lips and threatens to make him smile.
On the topic of things on his supply lists, fresh cream is also not part of it. Fresh anything is a rarity on his ship that will never last beyond two weeks. With no honesty forthcoming, Hux’s imagination supplies images of unsanctioned goods hidden beneath Kylo Ren’s long cloak, and clandestine visits to the ship kitchens late at night when no one was around.
“Is that-”
“You like cream.” It was a statement, entirely presumptuous yet completely accurate.
Hux doesn’t understand how Kylo always seems to know so much about him, pieces of information he should have no way of accessing being presented left and right. It’s not something as inelegant and forceful as reading minds, Hux knows from the few aborted attempts Kylo has attempted it that the probing feel of it was something almost tangible. If Kylo tried to force his way into Hux’s mind then Hux would have known, and yet, here he is, revealing things about Hux he shouldn’t know.
Distracted, Hux moves closer, and dips a finger into the cream topping, scooping up a small pile with a crook of his finger. He slips his finger between his lips, licking away the white with a curl of his tongue. The cream is light and fluffy, melting in his mouth into something smooth and sweet.
“I guess you’re right,” Hux said, his gaze drifting to Kylo in a belated moment of remembrance. Kylo’s eyes had gone dark, his eyes fixed on Hux’s lips, where he’d left a smudge of white, and understanding fills Hux with pleasant, bubbly joy.
When Kylo presses him to the wall and attacks him with demanding, insistent kisses, Hux is laughing.
They don’t actually eat the cake until the next morning, the cream has melted everywhere, and half the cake is stale while the other half is soggy. Still, it is the best thing Hux has ever tasted.
-
“You were right, you know,” Kylo whispers in his ear one day, just as Hux is on the fringes of sleep.
“You’d have to be more specific than that,” Hux mumbles.
Kylo laughs softly. “My father, my uncle, they always said I was too sensitive.”
Hux’s eyes open a sliver, and he stares into the dark. Behind him, there is the rustle of sheets, and he feels Kylo’s fingers, tracing the lines of his back.
“They said I reacted too strongly to things, that I had too many thoughts and too many feelings. That if I was to become a powerful Jedi one day, I had to control myself, I had to stop reacting with too much emotion.”
Hux shifts, turning so they’re face to face. Kylo’s hand falls from his back, and then, he reaches for Hux’s hand, and plays with his long fingers. His eyes are low, and shining with wetness.
“There is no emotion, there is peace,” Kylo mumbles, reciting something he has clearly memorised since a long time ago. “There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. There is no passion, there is serenity. There is no chaos, there is harmony. There is no death, there is the Force.”
“What is it?”
“The Jedi code,” Kylo says, with a huff of bitter laughter. “Do not feel, do not care, do not do anything too loud or too forcefully. Every time. It doesn’t matter, he’d say. You should know better.”
“So you left?”
“I did.” Kylo says, tangling their fingers together and holding onto Hux in a tight grip. “Snoke made it okay. My emotions can be powerful. Anger and hate, they’re my weapons now.”
It’s not Hux’s place to comment on these things. Kylo’s past comes with baggage and conflict he can only dream of understanding one day. Yet what he can see is that Kylo’s misery still lingers, its claws sunk deep into his very being. What Hux offers is only comfort, only peace, a brief respite from something more consuming than lust. Kylo’s fatal flaw is precisely the fact that he is incapable of forsaking his compassion, the part of himself that is sensitive not just to his own needs but also to the selfishness of others.
“Do you feel better?”
Kylo’s silence is answer enough.
Hux presses closer, and Kylo, abruptly, winds his arms around Hux, pressing his head against Hux’s chest.
They say no more, and only lay there, together. Hux stays awake, counting every breath.
-
Kylo is Kylo is Kylo, with too-large hands and helmet-hair and the most beautiful soul Hux has ever known.
-
It’s only late at night, when they lay together, spent, skin against sweat-slicked skin, that Hux finds the moment to reflect, and only then that he realises something important.
The fire, the urgency, the need, the barely contained violence that had characterised their nights spent together, had been transformed into something new, something slow, gentle, reverent.
In the deep, quiet hours of the twilight, Hux realises that this might be love.
-
When Kylo disappears for too long, Hux would go to his room, and sit down next to him, wherever he may be. Then, Kylo would curl into Hux’s lap as Hux folds his legs beneath himself, and Hux would slowly brush back Kylo’s hair. Kylo, whether he is angry or depressed, shaking or crying, would slowly still beneath his hand.
“You are a terrible influence.” Kylo often mumbles.
“Am I?”
Hux’s movements would pause, before he starts again, his fingers brushing Kylo’s hair gently, rubbing small circles in his neck. He would find comfort in the way tension slowly eases from Kylo’s body.
“I wish it would leave me be,” Kylo sometimes says.
“What?”
“The light.”
“It’s troubling you?”
“Constantly.”
Kylo would grumble, and Hux would lean back in his seat, thinking about possibility.
-
If you know the places to look, there is always information to be traded to the willing buyer. In the nights when Kylo is too distant to be called back to him, Hux researches topics he has no business in understanding. The Jedi have existed too long to not leave their mark upon history, and through their records, Hux learns of the Force.
The Force, they say, is part of all living things. Yet the light and the dark side only exists as a divide defined by the opposing ideologies of the Jedi and the Sith. Power is sourced from within, and where the Sith emphasises rage, fear, and hatred, the Jedi embraces the notions of compassion and honesty. Their ideological opposition led to growing extremism from both sides, as each sought to forsake any element of themselves which appeared tainted by their enemy.
Hux had always thought Kylo was destined for the dark side, for no other reason than the fact that it is a mantra repeated by himself and leader Snoke both.
But rage, fear, hatred, none of it makes up the whole of everything Kylo is, and all that he can become.
-
“You can’t deny that uncontrolled chaos is as damaging and self-destructive as it may be liberating.” Hux says one evening, as they find themselves embroiled in another discussion of the worth of the Republic’s ideology, repeating the same arguments as they always have.
“That is hardly what they represent,” Kylo says. “Besides, the natural state of humanity lends to conflict and destruction. You can’t just wish away something that is inherent to our nature.”
“The natural state of humanity also lends to harmony and cooperation.” Hux insists. “The very fact that we are sitting here right now, in a floating spaceship, instead of living in caves like our ancestors is proof that we are capable of learning, of progress, or an ordered, productive existence.”
“Which will always deteriorate as our individual passions override the demands of the collective.”
“I’m not saying that individual passions are not important.”
Kylo looks at him in surprise, not expecting Hux to concede a point so easily.
“But emotion and passion – without some form of control, without discipline – will only lead to confusion and self-destruction. And similarly, blindly following rules without flexibility, without conviction of purpose, will lead to the same outcome.”
They’re not talking about politics anymore, though Hux doesn’t know if his words have become too pointed, or if he is dismantling his own argument by treading this unfamiliar middle ground. He is used to thinking in extremes. That is where the comfort lies, in a world of solid black and white, right and wrong. Yet now, everything is tainted in shades of grey.
“One is dependent on the other.” Hux continues. “Without chaos, there is no value in order. Without day, there is no meaning in night. Work and rest, light and dark, both are necessary to sustain an existence whether it is a person or an entire regime. The challenge is in finding balance.”
Kylo stares at him, mouth open. “So... you agree with me?”
Hux stays silent, frustrated for reasons he cannot name.
-
“What do you think you would have become, if you weren’t born into the First Order?”
Hux raises an eyebrow. Kylo is in another one of his fanciful moods again, curled on Hux’s bed clutching a pillow.
“I don’t understand your question.”
“You know, if your parents were merchants, or performers. What would you have chosen to become?”
“But they’re not.”
“Which is why I’m asking you. What if?”
“Alright, then here’s a question for you. What would you have become if you weren’t born force-sensitive?”
Kylo’s expression turns blank.
Hux knows the answer. Kylo will be everything he now rebels against.
“Do you understand how pointless this is?” Hux says.
They are who they are, nothing more, nothing less.
-
Kylo never talks about the future, and Hux thinks it’s because he understands, that the past may be distant and irrecoverable, but the future – that is an entirely different minefield.
When Hux was ten years old, when his father still seemed all-knowing and wise, and his world was ruled with regimen and discipline, Hux thought he would be the best officer the First Order will ever know.
When he was twenty, Hux came to fancy himself as a future emperor, one who governed the masses and decided right from wrong.
When he was thirty, Hux looked to his future and saw its end in blood and glory.
-
At thirty-five, in his moments of weakness, Hux fantasizes about things that will never come to pass.
A small apartment to call sanctuary in city big enough to feel lost in. Rooms filled with books and memories.
Kylo at his side, every morning and every night, never apart.
-
It’s strange, to a man who once dreamed of possessing the universe, how it feels like everything he will ever need.
-
On a day like any other, at 1426 hours, Kylo Ren stalks onto the bridge and begins almost immediately to yell at the General in command of the Finalizer.
“You were ordered?” he screams, his voice distorted and his expression hidden behind his mask. “By Snoke?”
There’s the edge of tears in Kylos voice. Hux feels the ground beneath him crack, and begin to crumble. He stares at Kylo, schooling his expression in time only through the practice of habit. “Excuse me?”
“Answer the question. Were you ordered by Snoke?”
Tendrils of panic, of fear, take hold from within. Hux feels cold. He thinks about lying. “If this tantrum is about what I think it is, then yes. Yes, I was under orders.”
Kylo’s hands spasm, and then curl into tight fists. He’s shaking, Hux notes absently. Then, he’s gone, the door to the bridge sliding closed with a quiet hiss.
Hux ignores the knot in his throat, the way his hands tremble as he hides them behind his back, and returns to work.
-
There have been times when Hux was wrong about something, but understanding that Kylo will inevitably hurt for caring too deeply was not one of those times.
He waits for reprisal, for the destruction that is bound to follow.
That night, Kylo doesn’t show up in Hux’s room. Later, the damage report arrives in Hux’s inbox. He lost an entire wing of the ship.
-
It’s two weeks before Hux sees Kylo Ren again, and when he does, it comes with violent rage and chaos.
Hux is sitting in his quarters, reading through a brief from the engineering department, when Kylo sweeps in and sends Hux’s belongings flying to the walls. Glass shatters and electronics spark and crack. For a wild moment, Hux is certain Kylo is about to kill him. He waits, transfixed by Kylo’s maskless face, the rage and grief that is open for all to see, and nothing happens. Pacing is the only thing Kylo does, and he moves across the length of his room, stalking back and forth like an impatient beast trapped in a too-small cage.
“Is that it then?” Hux says, suicidal.
Kylo’s head whips toward him. “Do you want me to hurt you?”
“I can hardly stop you if that's what you choose.”
Kylo’s hand flies up, and Hux feels himself being swept off his feet and thrown into the wall. He lands hard on the floor, and the pain is a relief when he feels it. It’s not enough, he thinks, as he pushes himself to his feet. He's not entirely sure what he wants, yet he knows exactly what he needs.
“Do you feel better now?” Hux states, straightening his uniform.
“Don’t act like you care.”
Hux pulls his lips into an ugly smirk, knowing the source of Kylo’s rage and not above using it. He drinks in the sight of Kylo's anger, every word and action a symptom of just how much he cares. “Do you really think I don’t care about you?”
“You don’t care about anything but your precious First Order.”
Your. A slip of the tongue too significant to be missed by Kylo, and yet he doesn’t seem to hear what he said, a vocal rejection of the very regime he has spent more than a decade of his life fighting for. Kylo lowers his gaze and turns to leave, and the fear that suddenly grips Hux at the threat of loss drives him to do unwise, ill-advised things. In a flare of uncontrolled desperation, he reaches out and catches Kylo's wrist. For some reason, Hux can’t meet Kylo's eyes, but his grip is tight, and grows tighter still. He can’t find the words to voice his excuse.
Hux watches, frozen, as Kylo’s hand curls into a fist. Kylo's gaze burns him when he turns back toward Hux, and just like that, they stand together, eternity suspended in a moment as their futures slip into place.
Then, Kylo is upon him. Kylo's lips, his hands, each touch as punishing as it is absolving, and it becomes impossible to say anything at all.
-
When Kylo leaves, Hux curls on the bed and stares at the bruises on his wrists, wondering if this was what Snoke had wanted all along.
-
On some nights, Hux finds Kylo waiting in his quarters, on other nights, no one is there. Everything changes and everything goes on just as before. Yet it feels wrong, like Hux is wrong for him, like Kylo is forcing himself to become something he is not made to be. Being together, with the First Order, with Kylo at Hux’s side, feels as dangerous and toxic as digging at an open wound. Hux works on his administrative and strategic tasks, while Kylo disappears to various planets, and pushes himself too hard and too far, growing more reckless and unstable with each passing day.
When the report of a Resistance base on Shikala arrives on Hux’s desk, he suppresses the intel, and doesn’t let himself think about why.
-
There have always been dissident elements on his ship. Usually, Hux lets them stew, allows them to think that they have the upper hand before he swoops in and clears up the entire mess before it can mature into something close to a genuine threat. This time, with many of his most loyal subordinates lost to Starkiller’s destruction, he’s met with a crowd more ambitious and aggressive than ever before.
-
There’s one thing Hux understands about power, and that's everyone wants it for themselves.
Even with his limited familiarity with the Force, Hux understands that Kylo’s power is strong, and his potential unimaginable. That much is clear in the obvious favouritism of leader Snoke, the eagerness he seeks to grow the darkness within his apprentice, and his willingness to send Kylo on dangerous, destructive missions no one else has any hope of surviving. It is evident in the power Kylo wields, the way he harnesses the Force to pull secrets from others’ minds, the way he can freeze a volley of artillery with a mere wave of his hand.
As a leader of the First Order, he also understands, that incredible power in another’s hand must be destroyed if it cannot be appropriated for your personal use.
He knows it is a belief that Snoke shares.
And he knows that the First Order is losing control of their most powerful knight.
-
Instinct drives Hux to Kylo’s door when his cat goes missing.
The door is wide open when he arrives, and Hux stands at the entrance, looking into the darkness within. Kylo is curled on the floor, his eyes blank as he stares at the far wall. Millicent sits sprawled at his feet, bright, judging eyes staring up at Hux.
“Leave,” says Kylo, his voice hoarse.
Hux takes a breath, and steps into the room.
He moves slowly across the floor, careful, half-convinced that Kylo will throw him from the room if he moves too suddenly. But still, he reaches Kylo’s side, and remains unscathed. Kylo sits, rigid, unmoving, and Hux takes a chance, sliding onto the floor beside him.
The silence grows, and becomes unbearable.
“I’m sorry,” Hux says in the end, tasting the uselessness of his words even as they leave his mouth.
“Why? You should be laughing,” Kylo replies. “About how thoroughly you’ve manipulated me.”
I never did anything I didn’t want to do.Neither did you. For the first time and the last, he wishes Kylo is willing to invade his mind, if only to salvage the easy understanding that had once existed between them. He says nothing, knowing he has no moral high ground to stand on.
“And to think the great General Hux is willing to whore himself out like this.”
The words, like knives, cut deep into Hux, digging into tender parts that he himself had forgotten existed. “Was all of it bad?” he says, pretending he hadn’t heard what Kylo said. They’ve had such incredible moments, and he can still taste the sweetness of cream on Kylo’s lips, can still remember the light in Kylo’s eyes when he caught him looking his way.
Kylo falls silent, and Hux watches Millicent, still sprawled lazily between them.
“I’m allowed to kill you,” Kylo says.
Allowed, instead of will, instead of want, as though Kylo Ren has ever required permission before destroying something that belongs to the First Order. Hux, delirious, thinks it must mean something. Is this, then, Snoke’s objective? To nurture the anger and hatred within his apprentice until Kylo finally throws himself off that metaphorical cliff? Yet even now, despite Han Solo’s sacrifice, despite Hux’s betrayal, Kylo can’t find it in himself to not regret what must be done.
“Do you know the prophecy behind your Grandfather?” Hux says.
Kylo finally glances at him then, confused by the non-sequitur. Yet his grandfather seems to remain a safe topic, and there is pride in Kylo’s voice when he answers.
“They said he’d bring balance to the Force, which he did, by destroying the Jedi and restoring the influence of the dark side.”
“Yet he used to be a Jedi Knight.” Like you were meant to be.
“Yes, and he rejected their oppressive teachings.”
“Their code,” Hux says with a secret smile. There is no emotion, there is peace. There is no ignorance, there is knowledge…
Kylo lets out a ragged breath, his rage doubtlessly climbing as he remembers his old master. “A load of tripe.”
“I wouldn’t agree,” Hux says. “The code you were taught is not the true code of the Jedi.”
Hux strokes Millicent’s soft fur, even as he feel the force of Kylo’s glare. “What would you know about the Jedi Order?”
“I know their original code, the one that existed before later generations skewed it into something it wasn't.”
Emotion, yet peace.
Ignorance, yet knowledge.
Passion, yet serenity.
Chaos, yet harmony.
Death, yet the Force.
Kylo is silent as Hux recites the long-memorised words, words he’s not equipped to ever fully understand. Yet for Kylo, there is hope. There is always hope.
“The original Jedi code was about balance,” Hux says softly, smiling as Millicent stretches and purrs.
When Kylo finally speaks, he says: “I don’t believe you.”
-
Then, another Resistance victory, losses greater than Starkiller which almost cripple their ranks. Kylo fails, again, when confronted by that young girl.
Hux wonders if he may be somehow to blame.
He wonders if Kylo is running out of chances.
-
Hux’s new underlings may be ambitious, unruly, and too inclined to use the loss of their weapon as justification for a change of power. But none who made it so far up the chain of command would employ strategy as inelegant as a coup. An assassination, however, is not too far beyond the realm of possibility, especially after the Hosnian system exploded in red and took countless mercenaries’ families and loved ones with it. An assassination, even an unsuccessful one, speaks of Hux’s own incompetence, for a tightly run ship would never give dissidents the opening they need to wrack destruction.
-
Hux stands in a medcenter and stares at the body of an unconscious Kylo Ren, thinking the man will most likely get himself killed before the Supreme Leader gets his hands on him. The medics tell him that the expected time before Kylo Ren’s full recovery is five days, which means that it would be at least three before Snoke will push to redeploy him in another of the endless missions to dismantle the Resistance and take down the Jedi. It is plenty of time for Hux to put his own plans into motion.
Once upon a time, Hux had thought Snoke truly intended the best for Kylo. But that thought had been as naïve as believing that the Order will truly be a force of benevolence in the world should they achieve their ultimate objectives. Hux sees now, the reasons Kylo had called his beliefs naïve, his ideology oppressive, just as he sees how Kylo’s blind commitment to being something he’s not is steadily destroying him from within.
It doesn’t stop Hux from wishing that it is a world that is possible, that one day he may become a ruler of a beautiful, ordered galaxy, one without crime or poverty. That Kylo may still be at his side then, a fearless, dedicated warrior of the dark side.
Or that they might have a small home, somewhere big enough to feel lost in. Rooms filled with books and memories. Never apart.
Hux has spent his life fighting for something that is not meant to be.
-
He reads the intercepted communications from a hangar bay crewman and one of the new Colonels, as well as a maintenance supervisor and a systems tech who will close off an entire corridor for ‘scheduled repairs’. The unwelcome surprise is expected to happen within the next 18 hours. Hux ensures they have access to the entire crew’s schedules.
-
His decision makes sense if in a roundabout kind of way. If attachment is weakness, then Hux will be removing his one weakness from his life once and for all.
-
The shuttle bringing Kylo to the Finalizer docks, and refuels.
Hux steps off alone.
Before he leaves, he charts a new course for the Resistance base. The autopilot has been upgraded to handle the logistics, and the on board equipment and medical droids will have no problem keeping Kylo alive until he reaches the arms of their enemy.
It’s not the best solution, but it’s the only solution Hux can believe in.
He forgets his coat on the ship. At least, it’s what he tells himself, when he is standing in the empty hangar bay, watching as the ship grows more distant with each passing second.
Then, he uses his administrative privileges to wipe all record of the vessel from the Finalizer’s databanks.
-
There are many things that makes Hux and Kylo different.
Force-sensitivity.
Temperament.
Hux’s hair is flaming red while Kylo is a deep dark brown-black.
But the only difference that truly matters, is that even without the First Order, Kylo Ren still has a future ahead of him.
-
Hux’s father never told him he was proud. No. The most significant thing he’d ever said to him was: “You can become emperor one day.”
Usually, Hux likes to think his father was right, for the thing is, Hux is a terrible, selfish person, who is eager to make decisions affecting the lives of other people. Billions have lived and died according to his whims and his judgement. To him, lives are ultimately pieces on a dejarik board, squadrons easily sacrificed in battle to secure victory in war.
Hux has seen first-hand the type of unpleasantness that befalls the First Order’s captives. Torture is a light form of interrogation that only the unimportant few have the privilege of suffering. Hurting people with the Force, however, that is a much more delicate and insidious method of torment. If Snoke wishes it, there is nothing he won’t be able to pick from Hux’s mind.
He may have made a run for it himself if he has any idea of where he could go. The Resistance is the obvious option, if not for the fact that Hux would rather die than betray the First Order to those too-lucky Rebels. No matter what, these are his people. People who work hard every day to build something magnificent, to keep their world turning. He refuses to punish their loyalty with something as selfish as betrayal. The First Order may never achieve the shining future they have envisioned, but Hux would never demean the cause he had worked so hard for. Not for Kylo, not for redemption, not to exchange his rightful legacy for a show trial and an execution.
He never asks himself if he’s already done exactly what he claims he never will.
-
Hux reviews the plans of his would-be replacements, notes some of their oversights, and privately arranges for guard patrols to be shifted at the same time as he arranges for their plots to be uncovered in the aftermath.
-
The orders come after a routine progress meeting. The Supreme Leader wishes to see him, and Hux accepts the information with a disinterested nod. He checks the time once, before he decides to follow his usual schedule. Snoke would undoubtedly mind that his General elected to ignore his orders for a detour, but that hardly matters anymore, in light of everything that lies ahead.
In the third level hallway, he comes face to face with a masked woman with a blaster in her hand. Hux barely pays attention to the woman, instead fascinated by the weapon, and remembering the way Kylo would freeze the shots with a wave of his hand. They would stay there, bolts of crackling energy, suspended in space. He sees a flash of blue.
The shot pierces his chest with a burst of red, and then Hux is falling.
General Hux’s final moments are spent on the cold, unforgiving floor of a deserted corridor in a First Order ship.
He thinks he sees him again, that giant walking-disaster with bright, soulful eyes and a gentle, yet unbearably painful touch. Hux imagines his furious anger upon finding out Hux had played him like this, that he had made every decision for him, had taken everything out of his hands, and wants to laugh. He imagines Kylo’s dark eyes, his smile, his fingers, his skin, and he wants to cry.
“This is for Hosnian Prime,” the woman says, standing above him.
The second plaster shot pierces his heart. Hux’s body shudders once, then goes still forever.
-
If someone had asked Hux, in those final days, what it is that motivates traitors, he would have told them this:
It is because they found a greater cause. Something worth dying for.