Rose flurried like a snowflake, bounding silently as a three eyed hoppin-tot over the frosted needle bed of the forest floor. Pinecones crunched under her boots and perfumed the air with a spice that mixed with the icy air to tickle her nose. Rose crinkled it to try and ward off a sneeze that was promising to burst out at any moment. She needed to be quiet. Paige was fast asleep back at the cabin. If she was caught out at night she would be scolded. The troopers hunted at night.

"Your face is going to stick like that Tooka." A boyish voice lilted from behind the trees. Rose whirled. Standing at the base of a stars high pine was who she had ventured out into the snow to see. She scrambled over the fallen log between them and bounded over to the tall lanky boy. "Shhh! Ghostboy!" She whispered shrilly, "You'll get me caught."

The snow pale boy grinned a glacial white row of teeth down at her and reached to ruffle her curls. His own hair was mercilessly cleaved down to the scalp and Rose mourned the loss of it. The boy's smile was slight and awkward like that of one who was unaccustomed to happiness. He crooned affectionately to her, letting his voice carry over the short distance like a breeze, "You Tooka? I doubt it. You're the fastest I know." Rose smiled at the nickname. She really didn't think her curling forelocks looked that much like the perking ears of the gangling creature her grandmother had reminisced fondly of but she was pleased at the nickname all the same. It made her feel special. "I'm the only one you know." She chided lightly.

He chuckled softly, "Touché."

They fell into step, meandering a path through the woods to nowhere in particular. Ghostboy rarely took Rose far from her home, preferring to appear and disappear like an apparition in the clearing outside the cabin. Rose was never sure where the slim boy came from and Ghostboy never would answer when she asked. "Little Tookas like you wouldn't like where ghosts live," was all the reply Rose could get.

Their friendship had blossomed ever since that night when Rose had found him unconscious in the snow. She had patched him up and he had disappeared into the darkness but ever since he came back to her once every few moons. Rose reveled in the secret of it. It made the cold monotonous days of labor bearable. Her nights in the forest were an exciting secret that was all her own. With Ghostboy she could almost forget the whispers. With him she could almost forget she was stuck on Hays Minor.

Feeling playful, Rose scooped up a handful of snow and threw it at the pale boy, hitting the square of his back under the shoulder blades. The boy doubled over in pain and crouched with a soft grunt. Rose gasped and tumbled over to him, skidding down beside him in the snow.

"I'm sorry!" She hissed, her face creasing with worry.

He looked up and gave her a half smile, "it's okay, I'm just sore."

Rose reached over and pulled up the back of his shirt. He hissed, wincing as the cold air hit his back. Underneath his snowy skin bloomed with the ugly purple of fresh bruises. She frowned, "They're training you again?"

The boy growled at her warningly, "Drop it Tooka…"

She dropped his shirt and reached for his arm, grasping his dark spun sleeve to turn him to face her. "No, I won't, why are they doing this to you?"

He took her hand from his sleeve and cradled it in his own, "I can't tell you…" He said sadly.

"You wouldn't understand."

…

…..

Rose spent the majority of the day making excuses. She had slept badly and had needed to ruminate over several cups of caf before she could even get started with the day and when she did, there was simply too much work to be done to waste time on fallen generals. Too many projects to oversee on the base, too many repairs, why even the new maintenance recruits needed training. She would do it after she fixed the leak in sector 12, she would do it after lunch, or after she cleaned out her quarters, the floor really had gone too long without a proper mop. Whatever it took to avoid talking to Hux and the inevitable of explaining the scar.

Rose stopped in between excuses in the dim light of a long corridor and ran a hand over the scar on her wrist. She struggled to remember how exactly she had gained the distinctive marking but the memories jumbled together in an ugly wad of sorrow that masked the details she so desperately needed in a sharp aching pain of grief. She had gotten the scar when the First Order destroyed her home. She knew that much. The scar was a reminder of the end of everything before the Resistance. Back when she had thought a home was a cabin in the snow and hadn't understood that love was something you had to save instead of something that just was.

She couldn't tell him the truth could she? That she didn't remember, couldn't remember, because doing so was too painful. She shook her head at the thought. Of course she couldn't. She needed to win this precarious game of her own design. She needed to stick to the plan that DJ had so carefully crafted for her. Besides, would a man with a fussy pretentious name like Armitage even be satisfied with such an answer? Rose somehow doubted it very much. She grimaced as she tried the name out over her tongue. It was a perfect fit for a man like General Hux. He was a high ranking leader of the First Order, the most evil organization in galactic history. He was power hungry and arrogant. She had seen it on the Supremacy. Yes, Armitage suited him well. Surely a man like him would know nothing of grief and feel no compassion for it. Rose grimaced at the idea of appearing weak in front of such a man. No, she could not use the truth. She would need a lie for Armitage Hux and a convincing one if she was going to get the interrogations back on track.

She wracked her brain for anything that would sound right. Some story that would satisfy the strange feverish gleam that had sparked in those icy eyes at the sight of the scar but all that filled her head were fragments of memory that pricked behind her eyes like shards of shattered glass. A pale hand laid prone on the snow, the warmth of a fire spiced by the equally delicious warmth of a folktale spoken in the soothing croak of an elder, the tinkling melody of Paige when she laughed. Her eyes watered and Rose gulped in a greedy breath as her throat contracted with the start of a sob. Even touching the past to hide it was too painful. She had lost too much to carry it without her eyes turned staunchly forward. To go back made the load too heavy to bear.

Rose slumped against the coarse mineral deposit caked wall of the corridor and let herself slide roughly into a ball on the floor. That was where Poe found her, tear crusted and exhausted, several hours later. Several minutes, of propaganda worthy charm and a speech on the importance of duty, later she was making her way reluctantly towards the cell, flanked by guards, and wringing a pair of cuff in her hands.

…..

Rose steeled herself as they descended and let out a slow breath as she approached the cell to rap lightly on the door. She fought back a yawn. She was so tired. Her palms slipped sweaty on the handle as she forced the heavy barrier open. The stakes felt higher now than ever. She had to do it for Poe, for the Resistance, for Paige. They were counting on her. If she couldn't think of a lie then she needed to win. Rose wasn't sure why General Hux was so curious about her but all of the answers she had come up the night before had kept her awake late into the night cycle only to fall fitfully into dreams. The dreams had left her bleary eyed the next morning. Whatever the reason, Rose was at least certain of the whispers of dread pooling in the back of her mind. It had been a long time since they had surfaced but every one of them urged her to conceal the truth. The easiest way to do that was to win. Then she wouldn't have to answer at all.

The General looked almost eager as she peeked through the door. Putting on a false bravado she tried to set the tone.

"Ready to lose again today, General?" She huffed.

The General's mouth folded in on itself as he rose to meet her. She raised a brow at the formality and stepped into the room. Perhaps he meant to intimidate her with his height once more. Rose let her eyes skim over the slim form in front of her. Height was the only advantage the man appeared to have over her. He was wiry in a delicate way and the standard issue shirt and pants hung loosely on his frame. Rose looked up and winced at how far back she had to tilt her head to meet his gaze. At his full height he was a head and a half taller. Not as massive as Kylo Ren, even Poe had trouble meeting the fallen dark lord's face, but still frustrating. Her head only met his chest. No matter what she did he could still look down on her all he held out his wrists and Rose slapped the cuffs on roughly. A small imitation of a smile flitted on his lips and Rose let a sharp chuff cut through the silence in response as she tugged them snugly around each wrist. She motioned for him to follow and the guards wordlessly fell into flank on either side as they made their way down the hall to the larger cell Rose preferred. Rose didn't break the silence. The General did.

"Are we to play Skirmish again Ms. Tico?" His tone was light and skimming, slithery, like a snake slinking in the trees to look down on her. Rose grunted and kept her eyes carefully trained forward. "That's the idea General."

He paused as they reached the door and stepped to the side to let her pass. A needless courtesy since she was the one with the access code. She hunched in front of the keypad to cover it from view and fluidly tapped the door open with a quick series of rapid pings. When she was done she wiped the pad with the back of her sleeve to erase any print residue that might have lingered on the keys. She turned to open the door and caught the General eyeing her with an almost impressed expression. Rose shrugged and forced open the heavy door.

She motioned for him to enter the room and once he had slipped inside she shut the door behind them leaving the guards to stand outside the door. She tossed the pack of cards carelessly down on the table and threw herself unceremoniously down in her chair. The General settled himself in his own and waited.

She cocked her head to the side and blinked at him, "What would you have us play if the tables were turned?" She asked trying to keep her voice casual. Inside she was a bundle of nerves. She had slept fitfully the night before with more strange dreams of Hays Minor. She was unsettled by the way this whole thing was effecting her. The more they played the more likely it was that he would win and ask questions she didn't want to answer. She knew Poe would be displeased at her for stalling and give her another long irritating pep talk if she returned empty handed but still she resisted. If the General was aware of her reluctance he didn't show it. He seemed to give her question serious thought, his eyebrows knitting in such sincere concentration that Rose almost had to smile at the painful awkwardness of it. However General Hux had gained his power in the First Order it certainly hadn't been socially. She could almost pity him-almost.

Finally he spoke. His words fell cautiously. "I would probably choose something like Corellian Blackjack." He shifted shyly in his chair, "It is a much faster paced game which would likely produce the results I was looking for more efficiently."

Rose peered at him incredulously. Was he giving her advice on his own interrogation? She frowned at him and picked up the deck of cards. She slipped them out and shuffled them quickly. The sooner they were over this ordeal the better. She could feel a headache forming behind her eyes.

Despite his advice it was a game of Skirmish they began. They played in silence the cards slapped quickly down onto the table in a steady staccato. Inbetween hands Rose could feel Hux's eyes on her. His lips parted as if he wanted to speak but the words never formed into the space between them. Rose wouldn't let them. She kept her focus on the cards. Her lips pressed further into a tight line the more she lost. She was exhausted and the game slipped through her fingers like sand. Hux's pile steadily grew and soon it was apparent that her defeat was inevitable. Frustrated and tired, Rose rubbed the bridge of her nose and sighed. She knocked the rest of her cards away and let herself slump further in the chair.

"I don't want to play games with you today." She grumbled wearingly. It was unsportsmanlike she knew, and it was going entirely off script but Rose was tired of playing like she was confident and in control. She was tired of dreaming of pale boys in the snow she didn't remember and the pale man in front of her that wanted. She let her head fall forward to rest on the table and closed her eyes. She knew she looked ridiculous with her hair splayed around her face but she didn't care. The caf wasn't working and she didn't want to be there.

"The first production facility is on Dermos, in the southern hemisphere." The General said softly. His confession hung heavy over the little room. Rose lifted her chin to peer at him through her fringe and gawked.

He feigned a grimace and a sniff but his eyes wavered nervously. "I'm not particularly fond of cards," He reached up and raised a hand to massage his sinuses. Her eyes followed his hand as it passed over his face. The space under his eyes was purpling with either bruising or exhaustion. Clearly she wasn't the only one lacking sleep. His chin was beginning to show signs of stubble, "Perhaps we could reach some kind of alternative agreement?"

Rose sat up to rest her chin on her hands. She didn't understand why he was being so cooperative, she had lost but he had still supplied information. What was it that was so important that he would go to these lengths? What was it about her, the little no one from nowhere? Rose swallowed nervously, "What do you have in mind?"

He cleared his throat and folded his hands in his lap. He sat up straight and crossed his legs. As he repositioned himself the atmosphere around them narrowed and expanded all at once. The little cell now had become somewhere important and formal. Rose sucked in a breath as his eyes locked onto her own and sat up uneasily to fold her own hands on the table in front of her. Suddenly despite the stubble and the dark circles he was every inch a General.

He spoke flawlessly, the words as crisp as a senator, Rose couldn't help but stare almost mesmerized by the authority he exuded from such a slight frame.

Ah… she thought to herself, so that's how he did it. Unlike Poe who had become a general through a combination of comradery and necessity, General Hux had become one through sheer force of will.

"We each stand to benefit from an exchange of information. You wish to know about the First Order," He waved a hand dismissively at the mention of the fallen organization, "and I…" he paused and let his voice fall to a softer register, "…wish to know about you."

Rose mouth dried. She hadn't expected him to put it quite so plainly. She didn't understand why a man like Hux would care so much about a mechanic like her. Her confusion slipped out plainly before she could stop the words from falling gracelessly from her lips.

"Why me?"

He blinked in slight surprise at the question. His face fell. He slowly reached down and carefully pulled up the hem of his own dark spun sleeve. There etched into the alabaster skin was a familiar looking shimmering X. Rose gasped and pulled up the hem of her own sleeve to check her own scar. The two looked eerily familiar, each an ethereal shimmering mirror of the other like the sister moons of Hays Minor.

His voice fell heavy and thick with disappointment.

"You tell me," He said bitterly. He glanced down at his own scar and ran a fingertip over the raised edge before bringing his sight up to meet hers once more. He sighed and let the hem of his sleeve fall.

"Do you really not remember?"