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The window in the visitor's room, like all windows in the prison, was made of thick transparasteel, likely reinforced and probably strong enough to withstand blaster fire. Rather than show a sliver of sky or a small glimpse of the world into which Hux would never again set foot, this window allowed him to look at who had come to see him.
It was Hux's first time in the room. He'd made it clear early on that he had no intention of grovelling in the media, and nobody else cared to visit him. Why should they? Everyone else he'd known, even slightly, was either dead or somewhere in this prison, awaiting their turn in the courtroom circus.
Well, nearly everyone. The lone exception was here now, sitting on the other side of the window. Kylo Ren—Ben Solo, now, again—looked well, but there was no reason he shouldn't. His mother's lawyers and his family name had come through for him with flying colours. Ben Solo was a victim, or so their carefully crafted narrative went, brainwashed since adolescence, influenced by Snoke since he was a minor and therefore incapable of really being responsible for his actions. If that's true, Hux had thought, when he heard the defense they were presenting, then what does that make me? S.O.L seemed to be the answer, even though Hux had grown up with just as controlling a master, in an even more oppressive atmosphere, with even fewer chances to escape.
Still, Ben Solo hadn't exactly gotten off scot-free. Hux didn't know the exact terms of his release, something about probation and having to give speeches to the young about the evils of the Dark Side. Ben would hate that. Kylo Ren would have, anyway, but from where Hux stood, it looked like paradise. The judge on Hux's trial had taken two and a half hours to hand down a death sentence. Hux wondered what had taken her so long. Maybe she'd been stuck in a turbolift, or had decided on a quick holochess game with a friend.
The transparasteel was too thick to speak through. Ben had to lean forward and press a button, and his voice flowed from a small speaker to the side of the window. “Hello, Hux.” He was dressed simply. The flashy robes and ridiculous mask had been replaced by a colourless tunic and a pair of tight fitting brown pants. His hair—that stupid hair which Hux had hated and loved—had been cut shorter, but it looked good on him. Less appealing were the two figures who stood behind him, an anxious looking man in a brown leather jacket and a young woman with a Jedi's robe and an odd hairstyle. She was Ben's cousin Rey, the one who, along with Ben's vaunted uncle Luke Skywalker, had killed Snoke while Ben stood by and cried, probably. Hux hadn't been there.
Hux pressed the button on his side of the window. “Why are they here?”
“I wasn't allowed to come alone,” Ben replied.
“Why did you come at all?”
“I wanted to see you again.”
“Ah. Well, in that case, here I am.” Hux held out his hands. He looked atrocious and knew it. Capture, three months in prison, a gruelling trial and a death sentence would do that to a man.
Ben frowned. Are they taking care of you? This time, the words didn't come through the speaker. They were pushed into Hux's brain, the way Kylo Ren had always done when he felt lazy or affectionate. It was some stupidly romantic thing, in Kylo's mind, being able to communicate with Hux without words, although since he did it with practically everyone he interrogated aboard the Finalizer, Hux wasn't exactly swooning.
Deliberately, Hux pressed the button and spoke aloud. “What do you care?”
The man behind Ben leaped to attention, and Hux recognized him. The traitorous stormtrooper, FN-2187. He spoke urgently to Rey, his mouth moving wordlessly. Rey, calm, shook her head and placed a hand on Ben's shoulder. Ben glanced back at her and said something. She shook her head again, then, unexpectedly, looked through the window at Hux, an expression of pity on her face. Well, fuck you. Hux drew himself up and stabbed at the button. “If that's all, I have a lot better ways to spend my remaining...” He looked up at the chronometer above the window. “Eighteen hours of life, so I think I'll say good-bye.”
“I'm sorry.” Ben's voice cracked. Hux looked down. Ben's eyes were suddenly bright, brimming with tears. Hux shook his head. Kylo, Ben, it's always fucking drama with him.
“For what? You got away. I'm happy for you.” Strangely, that was true. Hux had been pleased when he'd heard about the leniency shown to Kylo Ren. Mad with jealousy, but pleased. Ben would have a good life from now on. He didn't deserve it and had done nothing to earn it, but when had that ever mattered?
I love you. The words appeared in Hux's mind. They weren't his own. His stomach twisted a little, but he pushed it aside and stood. Immediately, the guards behind him stepped forward, as if Hux could do anything here. “Think of me at 0900 tomorrow,” Hux said. He looked at Rey. “Provided you people are punctual, of course.” He turned his back and headed for the door. He had to. One more minute in Ben Solo's presence and he would have started blubbering himself, and Hux was not going to give anyone the satisfaction.
Hux didn't know why they'd given him two days between his sentencing and his execution. They wanted him to ruminate on his regrets, he supposed, but he didn't have as many of those as he suspected his captors would like. He didn't regret destroying those planets. He'd accomplished his goal, it had been a military success. He didn't regret working with Snoke. Snoke had helped the First Order to move ahead and, while they were in shambles now, they would rise again, in some form. They always did. He didn't even regret his personal interlude with Kylo Ren, although that was easily the stupidest thing Hux had ever done.
It hadn't come about deliberately. For the vast majority of the time they'd known each other, Hux had genuinely thought of Kylo Ren as nothing more than a liability in a theatrical mask. Unstable, unreliable, insane. One afternoon, after Kylo had thrown yet another tantrum and had destroyed yet more valuable, expensive equipment, Hux had snapped, “For fuck's sake, you're a child. Do you need someone to spank you?” He hadn't meant it like that, obviously. He heard how it sounded as soon as he said it, but of course then it was too late.
“Are you offering, General Hux?” Kylo replied, disdain dripping from every word. It wasn't the response Hux expected, which was no response at all. Everyone else in the room froze, their eyes glued to the screens in front of them, even those who hadn't been looking at screens before. Caught off-guard, Hux didn't have a witty reply at the ready. He hesitated, his face burning infuriatingly, until Kylo saved him by stalking away, pushing over a chair—occupied by a Stormtrooper—as he passed.
Hux should have written it off as yet another laughable comment by a laughable man. He wanted to, but it kept coming back, surfacing in Hux's mind at the most inconvenient times over the next several days. Finally, Hux made the decision to have a long overdue talk with Kylo Ren about the way he was acting. He was damaging the morale of Hux's troops. When he was around, they were constantly on edge, Hux could see it, and he couldn't blame them. They never knew when Kylo was going to fly off the handle, and that was a distraction. In battle, distractions were fatal.
Hux waited until the end of his shift and went to Kylo Ren's quarters. A long period of silence followed Hux's pressing of the buzzer. Just as Hux was about to give up, Kylo's voice called, “Come in,” and the door slid open.
The mask was off. Hux had seen him that way only a handful of times, and each time was as surprising as the last. Kylo Ren was attractive. Attractive to Hux, at any rate, although Hux could see he wasn't exactly what they would call “holofilm handsome.” It didn't matter. Hux had worked with plenty of people he found more attractive than Kylo Ren, and none of them had been half as infuriating.
“I'm here to discuss your behaviour.” Hux's voice sounded more pompous than he'd intended. He tried again, aiming for “cold and commanding” this time. “It's unacceptable. It needs to change.”
“Oh, does it?”
Kylo was mocking him, but Hux carried on as if he hadn't noticed. “This is a warship, one with a very serious mission. We have no time for hysterics.”
“What is there time for, then, General Hux?” Kylo looked at him, staring him down. Hux was up to the challenge. Kylo blinked first, a strand of hair falling over his forehead. Hux had won, but he still felt like he'd been kneed in the groin.
Later, Hux blamed the Force. Kylo denied it. (“I would never use it on you in that way.”) Still, Hux would maintain until his dying day—so, not very long now—that he had been unduly influenced. He couldn't think of any other reason why lust suddenly coursed through his body and he, a man who had been sublimating his wants and needs for decades, lost control.
It was hard, dirty and over far too quickly. Hux's climax hit him like a blaster between the eyes. Reeling, he sat up. He was still half-dressed, his face burning with humiliation as he surveyed the devastated bed, and the mostly naked Kylo Ren atop it. It's all right. The words appeared out of nowhere, as if Hux had thought them up himself, but he knew he hadn't. It was the first time Kylo Ren had spoken to him like that, inside his head, and it was more discomfiting than anything they'd just done. It's all right, General Hux. Don't be embarrassed.
“I'm not fucking embarrassed,” Hux lied. “It's just...” He didn't know how to finish the sentence, so he left it there, dangling.
It was good. Uncertainty crept into the voice in Hux's mind. He looked at Kylo, who looked back at him. Kylo seemed younger, somehow, all big eyes and soft lips, a furrow between his eyebrows as if he really wanted Hux's approval. Hux should have been disdainful of that. He was, partly, but another part of him wanted to offer that approval. He knew what it felt like to be hungry for it. Yes, he thought, rather than spoke. It seemed like an acceptable compromise. Good.
Kylo smiled. Hux had never seen it before, not really. It was a sign of weakness. It undermined any credibility Kylo Ren had—which, to be honest, was very little—and it made him human.
It was also Hux's undoing.
They were together regularly after that. At times, it was rough and almost impersonal, which was how Hux preferred it. Occasionally, Kylo Ren seemed to want to involve emotion, almost against his own will. Those were the times Hux left as quickly as he could. That was a path that led nowhere, and Hux had no desire to explore it.
Snoke didn't like it. Hux knew why. He didn't suffer any delusions when it came to Snoke, those had gradually fallen away, but Kylo Ren still needed to impress him personally. He prostrated himself in front of the projection and begged forgiveness, but that same night, he was back at Hux's quarters, and Hux let him in. “He's going to kill you,” Hux said, conversationally, afterwards. “Probably both of us.”
“He needs us,” Kylo had replied.
I was right, wasn't I? The words were quiet, echoing, almost as if they were being spoken from the bottom of a deep well. Hux sat up, his prison cot creaking beneath him. I'm here with you, Hux, the voice went on. I can hear you.
“You're not supposed to be speaking to me like this.”
Says who?
“Your cousin. The traitor Stormtrooper.” Probably everyone the newly penitent Ben Solo was supposed to respect and heed.
Fuck them.
Hux smiled. “Is that how Ben Solo talks?”
I'm still the same person.
Hux laughed aloud. “I take it you haven't looked in a mirror lately, then.”
Silence. Hux shook his head, but he couldn't stop smiling. Kylo had always been sensitive about his looks, especially after getting the scar across his face. Maybe he and Ben were more similar than Hux first thought.
When the voice returned, it was sulky. I killed him, you know.
“Who?”
Snoke.
Hux hadn't known that. “I thought it was Luke Skywalker and Rey.”
I delivered the final blow. That's why they let me off so easily.
Hux felt a strange sense of pride. He tried to hide it. “Well, good for you.”
I don't want you to die.
“That makes two of us.” Hux sighed and swung his feet over the side of the cot. The cell was small, although still more spacious and luxurious than any prisoner of the First Order would have received.
I love you.
Hux shook his head, as if trying to brush off an insect. “I can't deal with that shit right now, Kylo. Ben. Whatever your name is.”
Hux expected a snappy retort, or more likely silence. Instead, Hux felt an arm around him, as clearly and physically as if it were actually there. Ben didn't say anything, but another arm came around to wrap Hux tightly. It should have been disconcerting, not to say bizarre, but Hux didn't feel any of that. He felt strangely comforted. He even put up his arms to return the embrace, before remembering he was alone and dropping them to his sides, feeling foolish.
Ben didn't speak again. Maybe he didn't have the energy or the ability to project his body and his voice simultaneously. Hux didn't know. He lay down on the cot, letting Ben hold him. He didn't want to sleep, not when he had so little time left, but it seemed he couldn't help it.
When Hux awoke, he was truly alone. The light of dawn filtered in through the small window, placed high on the wall, and a glance at the chronometer showed that he had less than three hours to go. Ben? He tried, sitting up. There was no answer.
Breakfast arrived at 0700, as it had every morning since Hux's arrival. He hadn't been offered a choice of last meal. He had been asked whether he would like a religious attendant of some kind to visit his cell and accompany him to the execution. “Get me a Jedi,” Hux had replied. When the apparently humourless guard began entering that into a data pad, Hux had to say, “No, nobody.”
At 0800, two squat, sturdy droids arrived to take him to the shower room. This, too, happened every day. Once, Hux had resisted, just to see what would happen. Within a second, the two droids began to shriek, loudly and annoyingly out of sync, and immediately two guards were at the door, manhandling Hux into place. He didn't bother resisting today, even though he couldn't think of a more pointless use of his last hour of life. He held out his wrists meekly, and one droid snapped on the restraints.
The shower room was at the end of the hall. Normally, there were two or three other inmates in with him, but today Hux was alone. Whether this was a courtesy or just a coincidence, he couldn't say. The droids shepherded him past the guard at the shower room door. Hux held out his wrists, and a droid removed the restraints. They rolled back a step, and Hux slipped off his paper-thin prison slippers.
He didn't have time to undress any further. Later, that seemed a blessing. With an ear-splitting bang and a flash of blinding red light, the shower room door disintegrated and a man stood in its place, black robes hanging around him but no mask in sight.
“So fucking dramatic,” Hux managed to scoff, although it was more of a squeak, and Kylo Ren sliced one of the droids in two.
The other, predictably, went mad, screeching and spinning out of the room. Kylo grabbed him by the hand and, barefoot, Hux trailed after him, puffing and panting. He'd tried to keep himself reasonably fit while in prison, but Kylo moved faster than Hux had ever seen him go, tearing towards the dead end of the corridor.
“Stop!” A guard called behind them, which was so inexplicably funny Hux had to gasp a laugh. Less funny was the blaster fire that followed. A sharp, burning pain bloomed in his right shoulder, followed by the wet, sticky feeling of blood oozing from the wound.
“Kylo, I'm hit,” Hux said, a moment before Kylo broke the window at the end of the hall with his light saber and pushed Hux through. Not quite as reinforced as I expected, Hux thought, as he hurtled through the air.
Later, he was immeasurably glad that this was not his last living thought. He landed in a shower of transparisteel, on a thin, apparently haphazard pile of clothes, blankets and what appeared to be a lace tablecloth and napkins. Every bone was jarred, his shoulder was screaming, but he was alive. And inside a ship, he noticed, as Kylo jumped in the hatch and slammed it shut.
“Get on the weapons,” Kylo ordered, as he headed for the cockpit.
“I've never done that before.”
“What?” The ship's engine revved to life. “You're a soldier.”
“An officer. I haven't...”
“Hux!”
“I've done sims.”
“Good enough.”
But not for many years. Hux didn't mention that. He fell into the chair beside Kylo and looked at the controls in front of him.
“Just hold them off until we can hit hyperspace,” Kylo said, as if that were no big deal.
It shouldn't be, really, not for a man who destroyed worlds with the touch of a finger. Hux could do this. He squared his shoulders, pushing the pain out of his mind, and looked at the little ships appearing on his console. He pressed a button, tentatively, as Kylo lifted off. A roar and a bang, and one of the ships fell off the screen. Their ship rattled and shook, and then, they were airborne.
Hux had never thought of Kylo as a good pilot, or a pilot at all. Even later, when he learned about Kylo's father, Hux hadn't imagined little Ben on Han Solo's knee in the Millennium Falcon. Whether that had happened or not, Kylo clearly knew what he was doing. Hux only had to shoot twice more before his stomach flipped and they streaked into hyperspace.
Directly into an asteroid field. “Kylo!” Two of the ships that had followed them immediately disappeared from Hux's console.
“Shut up.” Kylo frowned. The ship dropped down, then surged up, then rounded a tight corner. Just as Hux wondered whether he was going to lose his last breakfast—was it his last?—the ship dove behind a large asteroid. There was another, smaller, hidden behind it, and slowly, Kylo brought the ship down to land.
When the ship thumped onto the rock, Hux took a breath for what seemed like the first time since he'd set foot in the shower room. He turned to Kylo. “Kylo, what the fuck...”
“Wait here.” He stood, those stupid robes swaying as he climbed up to the hatch. He popped it open and disappeared. Hux sat. He didn't know what else to do. A long moment later, Kylo reappeared.
“It's a real asteroid.”
Hux blinked. “Well, of course it's a real asteroid. What did you think...”
“Shut up,” Kylo said again, but this time, he smiled.
Hux smiled, too. He felt like laughing, in fact, but he was worried if he started, he wouldn't be able to stop. “You're crazy.”
“You're here.” Hux couldn't argue with that. Kylo leaned forward, peering at Hux's shoulder. "Hold on."
He went to the back of the ship. Now that he had chance to look around, Hux could see it was fairly small, big enough to walk around in but not to do much else. Hux wondered where it came from, but didn't know if he wanted to ask.
Kylo returned with a first aid kit. He carefully eased Hux's prison issue shirt over his head. “I'll heal you later. I'll try, anyway. I'm exhausted right now from convincing people they wanted to let me into the prison.”
Kylo produced an antiseptic pad from the box. Hux tried not to wince as he applied it, instead focusing on what had just happened. He couldn't get his mind around it. It seemed impossible, even as he sat here. Kylo was a terrible tactician, or he had been until now. Still, the “how” didn't seem as important as another question. “Why did you do it?” Ben Solo had been free, practically exonerated, all set to live an easy life. Now, they were both on the run, forever. And I don't even have any shoes, Hux thought, that hysterical laughter threatening to bubble up again.
“I told you.” Kylo taped the pad to Hux's shoulder. He looked at Hux with those big eyes, the same ones that had slain him that first night. “I love you.”
An idea struck Hux. You're like Darth Vader.
“What?” Kylo heard it, of course. Hux wouldn't have chosen that, necessarily, but he couldn't bring himself to regret it.
“Love fucked you over in the end,” he explained. Everyone knew Darth Vader had killed Emperor Palpatine, and then died, to save his son. “Not the same kind of love, obviously. I'm not suggesting your family is incestuous...”
Kylo cut him off with his mouth.
They had never kissed before, not once. It was awkward at first, Kylo's long nose bumping against Hux's and then poking Hux in the eye, but Hux was strangely not disgusted by that. Instead, he shifted in his chair, bringing his hands up to Kylo's shortened hair. Kylo moved, too, kneeling on the floor between Hux's legs. That was a better angle. Kylo's soft lips slid up against Hux's like they were made for it, his tongue teasing and his hands stroking Hux's face until, despite everying, Hux could feel himself hardening in his prison pants.
When Kylo pulled away, Hux immediately felt the loss. Still, he supposed breathing was necessary. Kylo didn't go far, anyway, resting their foreheads together. I love you, appeared in Hux's mind. He sighed. They were in this together, for the long haul. He supposed there was no point in fighting it any longer.
Me, too, he thought, and moved into another kiss.
***
Janz Ilyena had been running the outpost fuelling station in sector 781 for a long time.
It wasn't everyone's dream job, Ilyena could happily admit that. Things were quiet, most of the time. Very quiet. She went days sometimes without seeing anyone. But after growing up on one of the most populated planets in the galaxy, in a family with five parents and eleven siblings, quiet was just what Ilyena was looking for.
She looked up from her holodrama as the door swung open. Two men came in, humans from the looks of them, middle-aged. Both had grey streaks in their hair, although one had longer, shaggy dark hair and the other a short military style, red.
“Greetings.” Ilyena smiled. The dark-haired man glanced at her and, all at once, she had the strange feeling she had seen them before.
They weren't repeat customers, she was fairly sure of that, and they didn't look like anyone from her home planet. “Let me know if you need anything,” she said, still smiling. Discreetly, under the cover of the counter, she opened the list of wanted criminals that was provided to every fuelling station.
She flicked quickly through the little holograms, glancing periodically at the customers. She'd caught criminals before, three or four times, and the reward was always hefty. Still, these two didn't seem to be on the list. She had nearly reached the end—and the customers had nearly filled their shopping basket—before she saw them. Ben Solo, aka Kylo Ren. Brendol Hux, Junior. Wanted since just after the fall of the First Order.
Ilyena remembered them, then, as clear as day. She'd been a kid when they took off, barely fifty cycles old. One of her fathers had a distant cousin who'd lived on a planet destroyed by Hux, so the family was meant to feel outraged about his escape. Ilyena hadn't. She'd thought it was hopelessly romantic, that someone could love another person so much, he would break him out of prison just an hour before he was scheduled to be executed. She couldn't imagine anyone doing that for her.
“And poor General Organa,” Ilyena's Chief Mother had sighed, watching a broadcast of the General pleading for her son to turn himself in. “She's been through more than any mother deserves.” She had, Ilyena supposed, but General Organa hadn't seemed despairing. She'd seemed...almost proud. She reminded Ilyena of the way her mothers sometimes looked when she or one of her brothers or sisters did something unexpected, surprising, but not upsetting.
The dark-haired man, Ben Solo, came up to the counter with the basket. The other man, Hux, hovered near the door. Ilyena boxed up their purchases, mostly food, and accepted the credits offered. “Excuse me,” Ben Solo said. Ilyena looked at him. He looked back, dark eyes fixed on hers. “We were never here. You never saw us.” Ilyena blinked and, in a moment, both men were gone.
If they come back, she thought, I'll make sure to tell them that's never worked on my people. But I won't turn them in. Then she went into the back, to restock the pre-packaged Squallburgers.