Chapter Text
Kar-tuc Moatz was a huge man, taller even than Kylo Ren. Broader, too. He was bigger than Cardo or any of the other knights. His hands were massive and rough and thickly calloused. His arms were scarred and heavy with muscle. His face was craggy, hard, and set, as if it had spent too much time in dark places.
Yes, Kar-tuc was a huge man, and in Hux’s world, size was simply another tool that you wielded in your pursuit of power. That was just the way the system worked. Ren, Pryde, Phasma. Even Hux himself had used his own height for his advantage. In every other sphere in his world, Kar-tuk would be the monster, the brute dominator who thought he could just seize respect through intimidation.
Not here, though. No, down here Kar-tuk was the technical subordinate who was trying to force feed Hux a sandwich.
“Now really, Gen-ux, my Mira made this for you herself.” The big man was using his warmest and most convincing voice as he waved the wrapped package under Hux’s nose. It smelled…incredible was the only word Hux could land on, even down here, in the depths of the mines. Granted, the mines were smelling a whole lot better now…
“Gen-ux?”
Hux chuffed out a laugh as he reached for the sandwich. Such a thing still felt so foreign to him, this willingness to give, this lighthearted delight at the comfort of another person. Hux knew the correct words for these emotions; kindness, compassion, friendship. The lived experience of them, though, was quite another story. His relationships had ranged from transactionary to toxic to violently abusive. He could count the number of people who had genuinely cared about him on one hand. And now, his closest tie was the convoluted mess he found himself in with his Supreme Leader, the man who’d been his long-term arch nemesis. The man who now listened to his ideas while pinning him down and fucking him into insentience. The man who’d taken over his life and taught him how to kiss.
The man who’d actually agreed with his plans and let him come down here…
Kriffing hells, it was such a mindfuck. Hux didn’t have the energy to unpack it. Instead, he just wanted to focus on his sandwich.
Hux couldn’t remember if he’d ever had a sandwich before he’d ended up on this tiny planet. Maybe, years ago in his youth. Since then, though, his lifestyle had been the antithesis of such hardy, caring fare. As a cadet in his father’s academy, he’d survived on the inedible slop in the mess hall or taken his chances in the gladiatorial battles the instructors would create, pitting the youths against each other to fight, maim, or kill each other for better sustenance. Once he’d entered the actual ranks of the First Order, his intake had fluctuated between the refined banquets frequented by the upper echelons and the stim/cafe/ration bar diet so many shipside brass subsided on.
But this.
“My Mira used that sour base you like so much,” Kar-tuc explained before he tucked in to his own meal. The huge man let his eyes falled closed as he slowly, reverently chewed his bite. Hux couldn’t blame him. He’d had many Mira sandwiches by now. It was amazing how delicious food could taste when it was prepared with thoughtfulness and care.
And wasn’t that the wildest thing.
For the first time in his life, Hux was surrounded by care. He was surrounded by generosity and attentiveness, to good natured ribbing and nicknames. He was surrounded by platonic physical touch; an affectionate shoulder punch here, a hearty backslap there. And food! Good food - delicious food - food made with attention to his needs and his preferences.
It was…wildly disconcerting…and wonderful.
Hux had met Kar-tuc on his first trip to the planet, when Ren had given him leave to talk to the miners. The man had been humanoid but huge, well over two meters, and his initial approach had set Hux a bit on edge. It had set Cardo on kill mode, but fortunately, the Knight that Ren had agreed to assign to him as a shadow had proven to be less impetuous than his leader. The helmeted warrior had hovered close, his arm cannon at the ready, but he hadn’t intervened as Kar-tuc had begun to explain all the challenges facing the mine workers and the planet dwellers at large.
Kar-tuc was rough and coarse in his speech and manners, as were they all, and Hux knew that for most of his life, he would’ve seen them all as beneath his attention. But that was then. As it turned out, the bullying disdain that his father had beaten into him had proven to be as weak and ineffective as the rest of the mental armor he’d worn like a second uniform for most of his life. It had been battered by Snoke and Pryde and then torn away completely when Ren had assumed control, leaving him exposed and vulnerable.
He’d been shocked to learn that not everyone saw vulnerabilities as opportunities for exploitation. Kar-tuc hadn’t wanted to hurt him, he’d wanted to appeal for help. The giant man had no reason to love the First Order, but he’d never treated Hux like the enemy. No, he’d been astute enough to recognize an ally when he saw when and he’d lumbered to the front of the small crowd of assembled miners to meet Hux head-on as he’d approached.
“You the one who holds sway?”
Hux had almost laughed but had kept it in check. The huge man standing before him would’ve had no way of knowing what a loaded question he’d just posed.
“I’m the one who wants to solve the problems,” he’d offered back instead.
It was the truth, after all, and Kar-tuk had responded enthusiastically, gathering the rest of the guildsmen close and making introductions. It was he who was the primary spokesperson for the group and he who had eventually implored that Hux join them on an actual tour of the mines. And though he had been too ignorant of the concept to recognize the signs, that had been the start of a friendship.
Now, a mere few weeks later, Hux was positively laden with such relationships. Kar-tuk remained his closest companion and his civilian second in command on the mining initiative but his wife Mira had taken him under her wing as well; dragging him to their supper table on a nightly basis and procuring clothes for him that were far more appropriate to the task of building vents in a mine than his stuffy First Order uniforms. And sandwiches! He couldn’t forget the sandwiches. Mira insisted on trying out all her new recipes on him, citing gratitude towards Hux for being willing to try different things, unlike her stubbornly consistent husband and son.
Their son was Hema-tuk, and it was he and his best friend Mem-bai who had given him the moniker of Gen-Ux, though now the whole guild community used it freely and Hux was reluctant to put a stop to it. The boys were both just seventeen and in the second year of their apprenticeship to the Guild. They were still bound to their schoolrooms from 0800 to 1100 each morning but from 1230 on, they were his constant companions, endlessly curious and willing to assist with any projects.
Hux had even less experience with healthy family dynamics than he did with friendship and he found this time spent among nuclear communities, where children grew up at an appropriate pace among loving families, disconcerting. It had exposed him to emotions he couldn’t really reconcile; a morose jealousy due to his own wretched upbringing and an ugly, cloying guilt at the numbers of children his Stormtrooper program had stripped away from their own homes. He tried to justify it to himself as well as he could; most of the planets had been famine stricken, most of the forced recruits wouldn’t have survived their childhoods anyway. There was truth in those statements but they still just felt like First Order talking points now.
Those thoughts rarely left him and they led to other considerations; other questions he’d always been determined never to ask himself. He’d always insisted on being fixed on his purpose in life. His path had always been clear to him. Now, between the death of Snoke, the unfortunate rise of so many members of the destructive and indulgent old guard, and Ren’s constant and chaotic presence in his life, he found himself considering things he would never have allowed himself to entertain before.
Was there even a place for him in the First Order anymore, at least as an individual? The answer seemed to be a resounding no. Current mission excluded, the Supreme Leader showed no signs of letting him further off of his invisible leash - or out of his bed - anytime soon. Hux took another bite of his sandwich and glanced around at his companions.
It was Bura-bai, Mem’s equally enormous father, who had murmured the local term for Paramour in Hux’s direction on his first trip through the mines. He still wasn’t sure what had transpired that had allowed Ren to pull the term from his mind, but the hulking menace had shuddered it questioningly against his lips as he’d spilled inside of Hux a week after that first summit. Hux had felt his own body attempt to tense, though he’d been practically boneless from his own pleasure by then.
“I corrected him,” he’d managed to gasp out, but Ren had only grinned, hauled him into his lap, and kissed him.
So no, Hux didn’t think he’d be reasserting himself as a separate entity from the Supreme Leader of the First Order anytime soon.
Or ever.
Hux sighed and took another bite of his sandwich. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Cardo, stationed off to the left, always on watch. The helmeted Knight gave a nod of approval as Hux ate, and the General managed to avoid rolling his eyes. He’d managed to regain some of the weight he’d dropped since Snoke’s death, Crait, and Ren’s insurgence into his life. He knew Kar-tuc and Mira were concerned, but Cardo was a different matter. The Knights were sadistic killing machines, or so the stories went. They didn’t feel things like concern, and yet Cardo watched him like a kriffing jawa, and the only rationale for it was that Ren had given him that order.
Fucking Ren.
Hux squirmed uncomfortably in his seat, willing himself to ignore the twitch in his cock. He hadn’t seen Ren in person in just under a month but they’d spoken via video chat daily for the first two weeks. Their communications were clinical and mission focused, because not even Kylo Ren was arrogant enough to assume that his transmissions were immune from interception, but the dark haired man had used the Force to gently stroke the back of Hux’s neck for the duration of each call.
And Hux had leaned into every touch, just like he always did now. What had started out as Ren seizing him by the scruff of his neck like a misbehaving cur had morphed into something so much more. Hux wasn’t sure how to define it. It sounded so strange to refer to it as either an endearment or affection, not when it was coming from the same man who had wrapped him in invisible bonds and forcibly secured him to his side. But what else could Hux call it? Ren hadn’t touched him there, or anywhere else for that matter, with anything resembling violence in months now. Instead, it had now become the focal point for much of Ren’s casual displays of sentiment. He’d taken to stroking his thumb in concentric circles there while his fingertips idly played with the ends of Hux’s hair in any number of situations; if Hux was frustrated in a meeting, if he was trying not to murder people in a meeting, if they were simply sitting together on the couch, reviewing all the things that had made them frustrated and/or murderous throughout the day.
Things had changed. Touches had evolved and names had lost their derisive undertones.
Prize…Sweetheart…Paramour?
“Gen-ux!”
Hux’s head flew up just in time to see an oblong ball flying towards his head. His combat training engaged instantly and he stood and caught it with ease, cradling it back into his chest. In front of him, he could see a small collection of the apprentices milling around, their expressions shifting from guilty panic to elation as he snatched the projectile with such readiness.
“Gen-ux!” Hema blabbered, his voice rife with awe, “Sorry! So sorry…but that was awesome!”
Hux just shook his head, launching the ball back into Hema’s arms with the precision of a trained marksman. Hema shot him a starstruck smile and ran back towards the group. “Mem!” he hollered, “Did you kriffing see that?”
Hux couldn’t help the indulgent grin that spread across his face as he leaned down to collect his trash. Yes, a lot of things had changed. He had changed, and all the new names and labels he was acquiring were a clear sign of that. But Paramour?
Technically, Hux still retained the title of General, but at this point, he was a complete outlier in the hierarchy of the First Order. No one was really answerable to him, and yet he was answerable only to Ren. Even Pryde seemed to grasp that now. He was tethered to Ren and if the dark haired man ever cut him loose, he would simply drift away. Somehow, though, he knew that was never going to happen. Ren was never going to let him go. He knew this with certainty, just like he knew that he wasn’t going to attempt to escape himself. He was bound to Kylo Ren, probably forever. What did that look like? Well…
The title of General gave him freedom and protection, but it was a title only. Who was he really? At least the title of Paramour implied affection and esteem towards its barer, which made it significantly better than some other terms; concubine…or whore. Deep down, though, Hux had a nagging fear that Ren would eventually realize that there was one title that he could bestow upon his hardwon war prize that would keep them permanently and undeniably attached forever; Consort.
Hux sighed again, setting his feet to walking, tossing the occasional wave to the guilds workers as they disposed of their lunches, wrapped up games of 2 x 2, and tucked away decks of cards. All around him, the mine creaked with the weight of gravity, the echoes of underground water. But Hux’s mind was still elsewhere, still mulling over all the impossibilities of his situation. Once upon a time, he would’ve reveled in such an opportunity and would’ve exploited it in every way imaginable. Now, the idea just felt terrifyingly claustrophobic. Such a move would mean that he was completely the property of the First Order. Whoever he was as a person, any accomplishments he’d ever attained, would be swallowed up forever.
So maybe he’d already answered that question for himself and the answer was a resounding no ! There was no place for him in the First Order anymore, not as General Armitage Hux. The answer hit him with much less impact than it should have but he supposed he shouldn’t really be surprised. He’d never been given any kind of choice in whether he wanted to join the First Order; it had always just been ordained. But now his father was dead, Snoke was dead, and he was being forced to confront the profound weaknesses of the organization he’d given his life to. All he’d ever wanted was to create order, to create peace, by any means necessary. Now, he found himself questioning if that had ever even been possible. And if it was, the First Order looked less and less like an agency for such change.
But that answer would lead to even more difficult questions, with answers that were even more fraught and dangerous. Was the First Order even salvageable? Should he run? Could he run? And, in the midst of all of this, how did he deal with Kylo Ren?
Hux grimaced as he walked further down the tunnel, feeling the creaking rock walls close in on him. It was an apt metaphor, he realized, for his emotional state. Once upon a time, less than a year ago, the answers to all of those questions were simple and established. Now, so many of his norms and beliefs had been turned completely on their head. And Ren…kriffing hells, nothing was more complicated than Ren!
Hux could feel the burn of a blush creeping up his cheeks, even though no one in his vicinity could possibly know his thoughts. The truth, though, was that Hux’s feelings about the Supreme Leader and their relationship were much more complex than he was ready to admit, especially to himself. What he did know was that he now struggled to sleep alone, always seeking the warmth of another body next to him. He knew that when he couldn’t speak to Ren, he felt adrift and off-balance. The dark haired man had left ten cycles ago with the remainder of his Knights to go seek yet another old Force relic, and the sudden separation had impacted Hux in every possible way. He worried. It was that simple. He worried about Ren’s safety. It was absurd…and yet…
But he couldn’t solve those problems or answer those questions now. No, it was better to keep his attention fixed on the immediate problem at hand. Ahead of him, the large frame of the prototype ventilation chimney rose towards the vaulted stone ceiling above. Mem and Hema were milling around the base of the structure, no doubt lobbing questions at Venchi-Dun, a grizzled old veteran of the mines. Off to the side, he saw Kar-tuk shedding the outer layers he’d donned as they headed towards the mine’s entrance for their midday meal. Down here in the depths, though, the air was hot and thick, even with the added fans and scrubbers. Striding over to the makeshift lockers, Hux shucked off his own outerwear, stripping down to rugged reinforced cargo pants and a thin, sleeveless shirt.
The edge of the jacket caught on the thin osmium chain that encircled his neck. He reached up and detangled it, letting the little pendant rest in his hand. Even in the gloom of the mines, the shard managed to catch the light. Hux let himself stare at it for a long moment, then tucked it back inside his shirt, warm against his skin. Since the moment Ren had hung it around his neck, he’d never taken it off.
He didn’t really want to think too much about that either. Better just to return to his work.
Striding to the base of the scaffold that surrounded the chimney, Hux clasped hands with Venchi-Dun, the venerable old miner who’s knowledge had been such a boon for him in this wild venture. He wrapped the sturdy harness around his waist, securing it carefully.
Then, he began to climb.
****************************
It was well past dark by the time Hux made it back to his little hut in the shanty town that circled the various mouths of the mine. It was no General’s quarters, never mind the audacious opulence of Ren’s rooms - his rooms too, he admitted uncomfortably - but he preferred them to the spacious suite in the manor house that he’d been offered by Abrosius Klein. It gave him more access to the miners and their vast knowledge of the land around them. It also kept him well away from the prying eyes of Pryde’s local toady, Captain Bhargav. Ap’lek wasn’t thrilled about their humble accommodations, if his sullen grunting could be believed, but Cardo seemed immune to any discomfort.
Hux splashed water on his face and chest, then dunked his hair into the shallow basin in his little fresher. The room was barely the size of an escape pod, but at least the water was clean and warm. Heading out into the main room, he grabbed one of his uniforms and slid it on, bristling a bit at the confining stiffness. He remembered when he’d loved the rigid formality of his uniform, but after weeks in loose and comfortable civil wear, his appreciation for starched collars and creased pants had notably faded. But he was attending a standing dinner with Klein tonight and some protocol must still be observed.
He hadn’t gone entirely native yet. Though, from the length of his hair and the barely tamed scruff on his cheeks, he was getting close.
“I believe we can get the mylar for the hydroponic tents in about six cycles sooner than expected,” Klein told him as they ate in a small dining room in the manor that night. The old man looked giddy and it struck Hux, not for the first time, that Klein was the kind of man he wished he could find in the First Order; Klein, Kar-tuk, Venchi…all of them cared. All of them celebrated success for success’ sake.
“Gen…excuse me…General Hux,” Klein called after him as he took his leave of the dinner an hour later. Hux grimaced but turned back. Klein was a knowledgeable ally he wanted to maintain and as tired as he was, he’d give the man the time he needed.
“Is there anything you need for the inspection tomorrow?” Klein’s face was open and guileless, but Hux’s stomach still clenched. What inspection?
Klein could see the confusion in his expression and the man’s own face fell for a second before he schooled his expression back to neutrality. “I apologize if I’ve overstepped, General,” he offered carefully, “I had assumed that Captain Bhargav had informed you that the Allegiant General would be making the trip here, but perhaps he felt you were too busy to be bothered by such things.”
It was a terrible excuse, but a loaded one. Klein might be kind and amiable, but the man lived under the thumb of the First Order and was as well-versed in double-speak as any sane subject who didn’t want to lose his life.
And Hux could respond in kind.
“Of course, that would make sense. Or perhaps the Captain simply forgot. Either way, I suggest we not address any of this with him. I wouldn’t want anything to make my working relationship with the Captain uncomfortable.”
It was pure Bantha shit, and Klein knew it too, but Hux could read depths of understanding in the other man’s eyes. “Very good, General,” he replied, his voice carefully constructed, “I will bid you goodnight then and see you tomorrow. Shortly before the midday meal, I would think.”
With a nod of thanks for that last little morsel of critical information, Hux turned and took his leave, stewing on his long, windy walk back to his hut about exactly what was going to hit him tomorrow.
When the hit came, it turned out to be a gentle caress. Quite literally. It was approaching midday, just like Klein had said, when Hux felt a familiar sensation brush over his skin. He shuddered and leaned into the touch without even realizing it, but his actions were still bold enough to catch the eye of Bura-bai as they worked in tandem on the little platform near the top of the chimney stack.
“You alright there, Gen-Ux?” the huge man asked him. Hux just nodded slowly. For a moment, he’d thought he felt…
And suddenly his feet left the platform.
For a moment, he almost gasped out loud, unsure of what was going on. He knew what it felt like to be lifted up by the Force, of course, but who hell could be doing it? Cardo and Ap’lek could do some wild things but they didn’t have this level of skill. Which could only mean…
The clasp securing his harness to the safety rope unclipped with ease and Hux felt his stomach do a little flip. Ren was here. He knew it before he even cleared the landing and made eye contact with the brunette, staring up at him with searing eyes. Hux swallowed hard but forced himself to relax into the hold. As terrifyingly high as he was, he knew deep down that he was safe. Ren wouldn’t drop him. This was child’s play to the hulking menace.
And hulking he definitely was, tall and strong and so present as he carefully navigated Hux towards the floor. His hazel eyes were furious, the fire in them only getting brighter as Hux sank lower, but for some reason, he knew with certainty that none of that anger was directed towards him.
His feet safely found the ground only a few seconds later, his cheeks flaming a bit as he touched down a mere six inches from Ren’s chest. Pryde, Griss, Bhargav, and a dozen of his mining crew were milling around them, but Ren held his gaze for several long seconds without a care for their audience. Hux knew his appearance was an affront to First Order protocol. His work trousers and tank were dirty and sweat-stained, as was his face, chest, and barred arms. His cheeks were scruffy with stubble and his overly long hair was pulled back off his face with a leather thong.
And yet, as he stared at him, the fire in Ren’s eyes temporarily shifted from cold anger to pure heat.
“General,” he finally stated, his voice booming and authoritative in the echoing chamber. It sounded commanding in front of all of Ren’s subordinates, but only Hux was able to hear the echoing voice inside his mind that also murmured Sweetheart.
“Hux, we’ve come to see if you’ve made any progress,” Pryde declared, his snide tone pointed and cutting. Hux could see Ren’s lips curl in derision and he suddenly strode forward, giving Hux a firm but gentle Force tug that caused him to fall in beside him as the rest of the entourage hurried to trail after them.
Surprised to see me, Ren teased in his mind and Hux felt the now familiar shiver run over his skin. His answer, though, was honest.
I didn’t know anything about the inspection at all. Klein managed to mention it at dinner last night, he murmured back, certain that Ren was listening. The Supreme Leader said nothing in return, just emitted a low growl deep in his throat.
The huge tower loomed in front of them now, and Bura was just finishing his descent down the ladder. He unclipped his harness and offered Ren a rough but enthusiastic salute.
“Supreme Leader,” he acknowledged in his booming voice before turning towards Hux. “Gen-Ux,” he uttered more quietly, giving a simple nod of his head before falling back into the surrounding crowd. Hux felt a nervous knot clench in his stomach, but Ren’s side-eyed gaze was merely amused.
“It seems, Allegiant General, that General Hux has accomplished quite a bit,” he declared, a slightly mocking tinge to his tone, “It definitely matches the structure and timeline that he presented to us. That we both approved.”
Hux didn’t need to be looking at Pryde to see the general bristle, but Klein was now blundering through the crowd, his expression pleased. The man’s billowy sleeves waved around wildly as he gestured for Venchi-Dun to step forward.
“Supreme Leader, we are so thrilled with the progress, Sir, thrilled and so grateful. Thank you so much for Gen…for General Hux, Sir, and all his expertise. And of course, thank you for your magnanimity in sending him here.”
Hux tried to step to the side, to place himself out of the immediate sphere of influence as more of the miners and the stationed members of the First Order continued to gather around the base of the chimney. He could see Kar-tuc and Hema, Bura-bai and Mem, and all the other miners who had worked on the chimney project. He could see Cardo and Ap’lek hugging the perimeter. They’d been joined by Vicrul and Ushar, all four managing to look both stoic and deadly.
He could see Pryde, standing with his lackeys, and Pryde could definitely see him.
The entire gathered crowd could see him as Ren reached out, curled an arm around his back and hip, and drew him flush against his side.
Hux caught the gasp in his throat. A voice in his head whispered no fighting on a loop, but he wasn’t even sure if it was Ren in his head or just the acceptant trajectory of his own thoughts. Probably his, he decided, as he unconsciously melded against the hard lines of Ren’s chest and thigh. His own arm was trapped awkwardly behind Ren’s back and since the Supreme Leader showed no signs of releasing him, Hux had no choice but to bring his hand up and rest it on Ren’s shoulder. Every eye in the mines was on him as he practically embraced his long-time enemy for everyone to see.
Kriffing hells, now what? This was going to add so many new layers of complexity to this delicate dance, and Hux hadn’t even gotten the basic steps down yet. He could see Ren’s smirk and hear the pleased rumble in his chest. The Supreme Leader knew exactly what he was doing; he clearly wanted no confusion about the nature of their relationship anymore.
As if there even could be. No, Ren had destroyed any lasting illusions in that direction from the second he brought Hux into his own quarters. By now, everyone knew everything and that had been intentional. But Hux also wasn’t foolish. Pryde had known for far, far longer than that.
What had happened while he’d been gone? The relationship between Ren and his handpicked Allegiant General had been shifting even before Ren had first subdued Hux all those months ago. Now, the tension was obvious and Hux could see that he was clearly at the center of it. Pryde was an officer of the First Order, as obsessed with his own power and influence as Hux had once been. He wouldn’t take lightly to having that power challenged. Ren’s public claim offered a lot of protection, but Hux had learned everything he knew about manipulation and subterfuge from true masters of the class, and Pryde was one of them.
There was no such thing as real safety in the First Order.
“You’re thinking too much,” Ren whispered against his ear, “Stop worrying and explain all this stuff to me.”
Ren released him but stood close, practically pressed against his back, as Hux turned and gestured towards the huge chimney structure. He let himself get lost in the project again, just as he had at the holoprojector that night so many weeks ago. Around him, his team clustered to watch and he stepped back and let Kar and Venchi offer their own insights and opinions on the program’s progress. They journeyed out to the top of the chimney, to the emerging hydroponic set-up, and Mira took over the explanations as she described the anticipated crop yields. Throughout it all, Ren listened attentively, taking everything in.
And so did Pryde.
“I understand that Kar-tuk was the leader of the rebellion that halted work in the mines last year,” he offered casually as Hux and the inspection team joined Klein’s table for dinner that night. Hux felt his body tense and he fought down the urge to squirm. He was clean and back in his stiff uniform (though a gentle caress of his cheek and a meaningful glare from Ren had been enough to convince him to leave the stubble) but it no longer bolstered his confidence. It only served to remind him that in such situations, his job was to sit, watch, and listen.
“Allegiant General, I wouldn’t call it a rebellion…” Klein began tentatively, only to get cut off with Pryde’s trademark perfunctory disdain.
“Really? What would you call it then?”
“The miners organized a strike…”
“Yes, a strike where they bucked the authority of the First Order by refusing to follow their directives. Is that not rebellion?”
Klein swallowed but remained resolute. Hux could see the red blotches of anger standing out on Pryde’s face as the wizened but wise old Guildmaster spoke.
“Allegiant General, the people of the Guild are allies to the First Order and wish to serve it well. They take pride in their work. But in order for them to take pride in that work, they need basic safety measures to complete it,” he glanced up the table, met Hux’s gaze, and smiled, “And that is why we are so grateful to you and to the Supreme Leader for giving us that help. We appreciate you giving us the resources and General Hux…”
“So, Guildmaster, are you saying…”
He’s saying thank you, Hux raged in his own mind.
“I believe that the Guildmaster is thanking us, Allegiant General,” the Supreme Leader interjected from the table’s end, effectively cutting off all discussion. Hux felt himself settling a bit as Ren met Klein’s eyes down the table and continued, “Guildsmaster, you think these chimneys will work, correct?”
Klein nodded aggressively, tension evident in his shoulders, “Yes! Yes, Sir, Yes,” he babbled, “I think they’re going to work very well.”
“And you think the design will help fix the planet’s surface?”
Klein blanched a bit. “I know less about that, Sir, but I have great faith in the team who is working on that. They are very enthusiastic about the success of the surface regeneration efforts.”
Ren nodded, his face sage. Hux kept his own eyes down, retreating to old patterns as Pryde bristled. He was getting everything he wanted and he didn’t need to draw even more of Pryde’s ire by appearing to gloat.
Ren, though, was only looking at Klein.
“And when this project is completed, you and your Guild will be able to return to the levels of production that the First Order requires of you, correct. Because you are good and loyal subjects of the Order, who desire to serve with pride?”
Ren’s gaze was intense and Klein squirmed a bit under the weight of it. Hux could feel a bolt of protectiveness pierce at him, but he grit his teeth and stayed silent. His words wouldn’t help the situation here, and Klein knew how to play this game.
“Sir, we want nothing more than to loyally serve the First Order. It is the only way we could ever repay you for your beneficence.
“Good,” Without warning, Ren rose to his feet, gesturing for everyone else to hold their seats as he glared around the table, his deep hazel eyes taking everything in. The second ticked by awkwardly, clearly another power move, as the seated guest all fought the urge to squirm under his assessment.
“I think,” he continued, his voice echoing in the cavernous dining hall, “that our Guildmaster’s answers address our concerns. And I expect that to be the end of it. I would hate to feel as if my own authority was being questioned here. It might make me question the loyalty of others at this table.”
With a flick of his wrist, he pulled all of the dinner guests to a standing position.
“Now, I think we’re going to end this for tonight. Unless, of course, someone disagrees?” The words lingered for whole seconds again. “No? Good. We can reconvene in the morning.”
Without a word, Ren seized his helmet and turned, his robe swirling behind him as he strode to the exit, leaving the silenced members of his council behind him.
“General Hux, with me!”
And then there was that, of course.