To the casual observer, Armitage Hux was very much his fathers son.

Not only did he carry the same fiery red hair and pale skin as his father, but he was strict, harsh. Impregnable. A veritable force and figurehead for the First Order to rally behind.

He stood tall, made tough calls and gave orders. He was trusted by Snoke, the darling of the academy, the fearless leader that stood beside, and occasionally, up to Kylo Ren.

But the Armitage Hux on the inside was a different story.

Inside, the man he was now battled constantly with the weak-minded, 'soft' boy his father so hated, the gentle child so abused and left behind back on Arkanis.

The boy that flinched at the genocide of the Hosnian system, that cowered inwardly at the sound of his own voice, that feared the hatred and vitriol spilling out over the legion of Stormtroopers on the platform below.

Hux sat in the silence of his chamber, a datapad on the desk before him, his hand cupping his forehead.

His chest felt tighten, his blood feeling as though it was pumping at twice the normal speed. He hated this feeling, this 'out of control', breathlessness. It felt like he was trapped.

Running his fingers through his hair, he sat back, looking at the perfectly made bed, the pristine side table, the wardrobe where he kept his perfectly pressed uniforms. Nothing out of place.

Just like his father.

Hux stood up, gritting his teeth as he ripped the blankets off the bed in an act of rebellion, knocking over the side table with one, swift kick and ripping the uniforms out of the wardrobe, throwing heavy synthetic wool everywhere.

He couldn't do this anymore; this perfection, this precision. He needed to be free of it, even if only for a little while.

Taking his greatcoat and his data pad, he swept out of the room, the deafening whirl of his own pulse filling his ears as he passed down the halls.

Several officers stopped to salute them, but he waved them off, quickening his pace until he was nearly jogging.

Armitage Hux was not an impulsive man by any stretch, but it felt like something inside him had snapped. Like that scared, abused little boy deep inside him had finally broken free, had finally stepped into his own.

In the hangar, no one gave him a second glance, no one questioned him appropriating a command shuttle.

In truth, Hux wasn't sure where he was going, or what he was doing. He wasn't' sure what this drunken, angry feeling that had swept over him as he made his descent into the vastness of space.

It felt like a small voice was crying out in the back of his head, like his true self had finally awaken from a long slumber.

Armitage Hux, for all intents and purposes, had simply snapped.

xXx

Hux sat slumped in the cockpit, his hands over his face as he grit his teeth.

He really was weak.

He could hardly believe himself right now. How could a man like him let his impulse control just slip away like that?

Now the First Order had him listed as AWOL. There was a price on his head. He was a traitor.

In the back of his brain, his father's voice echoed, scolding him for being a useless coward.

Armitage slammed his fists down on the console with a grimace, looking around to try to get a grip on himself. His entire life, all his work. Gone.

And on what? A whim? A little voice in the back of his head? That nagging, crawling feeling of being trapped?

He had made three jumps, randomly. It was, in a way, like his body was moving without his consent. Part of it, he understood, was to mask his trail. Even with cloaking devices, he could still be easily found by the Order.

Closing his eyes, he leaned back in the seat, looking out the viewport into the vast expanse of space beyond.

If nothing else, it felt calming out here. Alone in the universe, he didn't feel his transgressions would actually matter. Yes, he was still a thin, powerless slip of a boy, but everything was meaningless out here.

Armitage pushed those thoughts aside. He hated feeling powerless, he hated feeling like he didn't matter. He'd had enough of that from his father, now he was doing it to himself?

Cracking his knuckles, he began to type in another set of coordinates, but hesitated before punching them in completely.

In the vastness, a speck of silver flashed as another ship jumped out of hyperspace.

Hux held his breath, narrowing his eyes to see if he could pick out what kind of ship it was.

It didn't look like it belonged to the first order: it was an A-24 Sleuth with some semblance of a custom paint job. Judging by the structure and the level of damage on the outside, it had to be at least twenty years old.

Hux ran his fingers through his hair as he saw the ships communicator turn red with an incoming transmission.

Fingers shaking, he pressed the call button.

"Heeey, Jaxom, niiice find." A woman's voice called over the radio. "Bet the Order's pretty ticked you got one of their command shuttles." She sounded amused.

"Anyway, I got that uh…that special order for you."

Hux swallowed hard. Great. A smuggler. Out in the middle of nowhere. He could jump, still, though he might accidentally smash into the smugglers ship in the process.

"Jax?"

Clearing his throat, he glanced nervously at the communication unit, before typing out a message for her to read.

"Unfortunately, the communication system is down. My apologies." He exhaled as he hit send, sucking nervously on his already chapped lower lip. There was a long silence before she spoke again.

"Okay, yeah…hey, uh, Jax, you okay?"

"I'm fine." He typed back. It was useless. She saw through it. He could tell she saw through it. Maybe it would buy him some time, however.

Taking a deep breath, he finished punching in the coordinate for the next jump, hitting the buttons and bracing himself for the move.

Instead, the command shuttle gave a lurch, listing sideways as it nearly crashed into the A-24.

"Oh ho ho, no you don't."

A tractor beam. Fantastic. Just what he needed.

After a few moments, there was a telltale 'clang' as the ships docking ports met. Hux stood, wondering how he was going to get out of this mess.

If she was a smuggler, it's more than likely she'd heard the transmission about him being AWOL, and would probably like to collect the bounty on his head. Or she could take him captive and sell him to a slavers market. Or maybe just kill him and take his ship.

Reaching beneath the console, Hux pulled out the standard issue blaster.

There was nothing but silence. The suspense had Hux on edge, but he was careful, he was trained for this sort of thing.

What was he talking about, he was a strategist. He had gotten passing marks in combat.

The door flew open, circuits overridden from the outside.

Armitage raised the blaster, crouching back behind the seat and firing at the figure in the doorway.

"Oh shit. NOPE." He felt a familiar, invisible force knock him backwards, the blaster skittering from his hands.

It wasn't as strong as what he was used to, but it was enough to knock the wind out of him. The figure stepped between him and his blaster, kicking it out of the way quickly.

He watched helplessly as it clanged down the narrow hallway.

"Well, I'll be damned, if it isn't that General that went missing." The figure crouched, face obscured by a half mask. Hux regained his breath and tried to scramble up.

There was an arc of electricity and Hux found himself rendered immobile, staring up at the woman before him.

She had long, black hair that was cut in a 'v' shape over her nose, and wide, tired looking eyes that were two solid crimson orbs. Her skin was a solid blue-grey, a trademark of her race. She was a Chiss, there was no mistaking it.

"Chill. Not going to hurt you." She reached out, grabbing him and gently lifting him onto her shoulder. "You're coming with me, though. You almost had me fooled, you little shit."