General Armitage Hux was done.
He was so done that in comparison, nobody had ever been done before. He had reached the highest peak of Doneness and was setting up camp.
One should know that, after Snoke's death, Kylo Ren became the Supreme Leader and Hux stayed a general and the right hand to the leader. Nevermind the fact that Hux was obviously the better leader, but, regretfully, he didn't possess this stupid magic force thingy. But he also wasn't crazy and emotionally infantile. He was steady. He was strong. He was logical. And yet, the Supreme Leader needed to be a magical prodigy, even if he was also a spoiled brat. So, Kylo Ren was their choice.
Maybe it was the best choice they had, but it was also the source of Mount Doneness.
After Snoke's sudden demise, they needed to extinguish any rebels and possible usurpers in First Order ranks, needed to make known that power was in capable hands, and there was no point in doubts and delusions of grandeur. Necessity called for alliances to be reaffirmed, for loyalties to be strengthened. So, General Hux demanded that holoconferences be held and he threatened, bribed and commanded people into line, leaving a wake of fear, awe, and obedience behind him.
He tried, anyway. He tried his hardest to create order, to hold everything together, to keep up appearances, because if he didn't, all of it would disintegrate in chaos. He knew this because at this very moment, he wanted nothing more than earth to part under him and swallow him whole. Before he slowly died of embarrassment.
Because Kylo Ren, the Supreme Leader of the First Order, was currently blushing. Blushing like a virgin at a strip club. His ears were bright red and his cheeks shined with pink. He also looked as though he was intensely trying not to ogle.
"Rey," Hux muttered resentfully under his breath.
This connection between Kylo and Rey was an inconvenience, at best. Whenever it happened (and it was far too often for Hux's peace of mind), the Supreme Leader became a shy, lustful teenager again, absent minded and focused only on Rey. Like now.
"Five creds she's naked," one of the analysts whispered. Of course everybody knew about this Rey issue. Why not. Hux wasn't even surprised.
"Cheap bet," one of the others snarked back.
He couldn't chastise them. His thoughts were exactly the same.
"She's definitely in the shower," another whisper echoed around the table.
Now even the holo versions of the ambassadors were watching Kylo. He was still blushing. Hand to his head. Peeking through his fingers. Squirming in his chair. Embarrassment leaking from every pore. The Supreme Leader in all his glory, indeed.
Hux would bet his left kidney that this clever, clever girl was timing her 'calls' on purpose. There was only one thing he wanted to know – who was sharing their schedule with her. He wanted that traitor dead. Rendered to nothingness. Made into cat food. Of course, there were spies. He had spies in the Rebel ranks, they had spies in the First Order. It was expected. But why? Why were they giving Rey their schedule? So she could make fun of the Supreme Leader? No. He knew why. He would do the same if he had that kind of power. Why lose people in fights and battles when you can render the enemy's fearless leader into a puddle of misguided emotions.
Hux forcibly cleared his throat.
"Can we forget about our otherwise occupied leader, for the moment, and focus on why we're here?" He asked laconically.
And, because the universe hates Hux, that was the exact moment when Kylo Ren, the Leader Supreme, Dark Jedi, and whatever other lofty titles he had, decided to giggle. Giggle. Fuck you very much. He was done. He started building a tower on the peak of his mountain of Doneness.
"Five creds he's a virgin." The analyst was clearly a brave, brave man.
"My twelve-year-old nephew is more mature about tits," Phasma's voice rang through the air like a bell.
The sound of his head smacking the conference table must have echoed across the galaxy all the way to his home planet Arkanis.