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    Summary

    Ren snatched it back. Stopped dead in his tracks, Hux could only stare. And Ren’s face had flushed, colour blotched high on his cheeks, eyes narrowed to black slits.

    “I am not discussing this with you.”

    Hux had not worked his way to general – had not embroiled himself in this scheme to be emperor – to be denied. “But it’s obviously unstable,” he said, lips twisted downward. “The lateral plasma vents alone—”

    “Hux.”

    “Ren.” What he saw in the other man’s face now was not anger, though it travelled too close to its event horizon. “Ren, I’m trying to be helpful.”

    Based on this prompt for the kylux May exchange:

    Hux wants to be Emperor. Any Emperor needs a knight. A knight needs a blade. A functioning one. A perfect one. Hux makes it his job to personally get Kylo a new, whole crystal for a new lightsaber; it's a job he might royally fail at it because he has no clue about the world past his office desk...

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