Chapter 4

The first thing that Hux did when he arrived back to his quarters was strip down and throw every blasted article of muddy, ripped clothing in the trash receptacle. He couldn't remember the last time he felt so cold and miserable. He ran a hot shower that nearly scalded his skin in an attempt to warm up. He scrubbed so hard that his skin turned red as he tried to wipe the muck of that planet off of him.

The ride back in the shuttle had been even more uncomfortable than the ride to the planet. Every single man was soaked and dirty and the looks of contempt and their stony silence put Hux on edge. At least the pilot was able to move the shuttle to the adjoining hanger, making another trek through the sleet unnecessary.

Hux dressed quickly after showering, wanting to get on with his day. He had a dozen things he had to oversee that day and the treaty and the infernal ceremony had taken longer than he had anticipated. As a small luxury, he prepared himself a cup of Tarine tea, letting the bitter brew wake him up and taking comfort in its warmth.

He grabbed a nearby datapad, grimacing at the reports as he began to sift through them. There was a depressing level of administrative tasks he had taken over in the last few months, leaving him little time to pursue any military advances. The First Order's finances were an absolute mess, rife with corruption, bribery, and outright thievery, not to mention losses due to persistent Resistance sabotage. They were so far in the red that they never looked like they'd be solvent again. The First Order owed money to hundreds of money lenders throughout the galaxy and half the time, their repayments were late or nonexistent. Even when the First Order tried "requisitioning" and "commandeering" resources from the planets under their control, there was always more losses than there were gains. And as tempting as it was to just wipe out a group of troublemakers in a region, dead people don't pay any taxes.

Even on his own ship, every single budget was bleeding them dry. Hux had tried to make economies, of course, but underpaying people just ended with an increase in theft and misappropriation. Skimping on safety issues led to an increase in injuries and casualties, which were costly. Not to mention, morale was at an all time low, which normally didn't concern Hux, but he'd learnt to be careful. He'd already had one Stormtrooper betray the First Order, he couldn't allow another one.

Hux had grown up on tales on the Empire and all its glory. He heard of its efficiency, its ruthless precision, its utter determination to bring order to a lawless galaxy, despite tremendous odds. It was what inspired him since his youth, spurred him on to do anything to serve and rise in the ranks of the First Order.

But now, he felt as if he were seeing behind the veil and that the scales were falling from his eyes. There was no efficiency. There was no order. Everything was spinning out of control. And the worst thing was, it was never really under control in the first place. There was just a slick veneer to fool the masses.

After Snoke died, Hux reviewed hundreds of top secret documents that showed the First Order to be nothing more than an elaborate shell game, moving finances from one place to another and enriching those in power. It was a system that was doomed to failure and even if he ever achieved his dream of becoming Supreme Leader, he knew of no way of correcting it without scrubbing the whole thing and starting again from scratch. He was doing all he could to stave off its near inevitable collapse.

He felt utterly alone in his concerns. He couldn't approach Kylo, whose single-minded focus on the Rebels left him completely unconcerned about what happened to the First Order as a whole. Hux had to admit that he missed Phasma, but he'd had to reassign her once she'd recovered from her near fatal fall. There was an outpost that they'd nearly lost to the Resistance and he needed her expertise there. She had a keen military mind and was in the process of bringing the rebellious population under heel. He couldn't afford, however, to bring her back to the Fleet until she'd completely squashed any lingering Rebel influence.

Hux sighed and sat up in his seat. Feeling sorry for himself and his life of solitude was not in his nature. He had a hundred tasks to attend to that day and indulging in self-pity was not on the agenda.

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That evening, after a particularly tiresome meeting about the procurement of food and supplies for a far-flung First Order outpost, Hux was just sitting down to dinner when his aide came by his quarters to update him on the princess.

"I take it that you've gotten our guest settled." Hux began on his meal, not bothering to ask Ruchi to sit down after he entered. Hux always ate alone and he wasn't about to play the host for his own aide. He looked up briefly before returning to review a report he'd just been sent.

"Yes . . . quite a fetching creature, if you don't mind my saying."

"I suppose," Hux admitted, staring down at his datapad, trying to figure out how the ship was spending quite so much money on sanitation expenses.

"She could pose a distraction to the crew."

Hux squinted at his aide, wondering what he was going on about. "She's not the only female on board. And there are nearly 20,000 members of the crew all told. She'll hardly stand out."

"No . . . but she's different. A novelty."

"I suppose," Hux replied, losing patience with the conversation. "Do you have anything more to add?"

"She did seem . . . . displeased about where her quarters were located. She asked where you were staying."

"Me? That's odd." Hux had specifically ordered that she be placed as far away from him as possible. It had taken a while to figure out the logistics of exactly where to stash her away. They could hardly stick her in a closet, but finding a suite of rooms befitting her station as royalty that was sufficiently far away from Hux's quarters had been a bit of a challenge for his aide.

"She was rather . . . anxious about it. She's requested a meeting with you to discuss it."

Hux rolled his eyes. First Ren and now another spoiled brat to deal with. "I don't have time for that."

"She's rather insistant I'm afraid. She believes that you are violating the terms of the treaty."

Hux set down his fork and rubbed the sides of his temples with both hands. If she was being so difficult about such a minor thing, he hated to imagine what the next sixty years were going to look like. "Fine. Fine. I'll meet with her tomorrow morning. First thing."

"I doubt she'll find that satisfactory. She wanted to meet tonight."

Hux glanced at his datapad, full of meetings and flowcharts and expense reports. "She'll have to learn to live with disappointment."

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Hux awoke the next morning to an impatient rap at his door. He looked blearily over at the time and winced. It was a least an hour earlier than he'd set his alarm for and it had been another horrid night of restless sleep and formless nightmares that he could no longer remember.

"Who is it?" he snapped, not ready to leave the warmth of his bed.

"Princess Avaleran. We were supposed to meet this morning. First thing."

Hux groaned. Obviously "first thing in the morning" meant "wake someone up at an ungodly hour" in her language. "Give me a moment."

He sat up, wiping the sleep from his eyes. He stretched and winced as his neck was still quite sore. The tension of the past day had inflamed his aching muscles. He dressed gingerly, trying to take care not to aggravate the area even more. After a few moments, he was ready and opened the door for the waiting princess.

She looked quite different from that last time he saw her. Gone were the bulky, padded robes and elaborate hairstyle. Her hair was done in a single long braid with a few soft wisps of dark hair escaping. She was wearing a long-sleeved fitted dress of heavy blue wool that came down to her ankles. Despite the modesty of the garment, Hux couldn't help but notice that she was just as shapely as he'd assumed, and then shook his head to wipe away the errant thought.

"Why am I on the other side of the ship from you? That doesn't seem to make sense to me." She swept into his room, waving a datapad in her hand.

Hux bit back a snarky retort, trying his best to strike a conciliatory tone. "Companions . . . just aren't that close in our culture. It's more of a 'see each other once a month' type thing. I'm sure you understand."

"Well, eternal companions mean something very different for us. This arrangement does not fulfill the terms of the treaty. I think your translators made a mistake."

Hux felt his heart sink. The last thing he needed was for some cultural misunderstanding to tank the treaty. "A mistake?"

"I've been reviewing the treaty and the translation all night. I don't think that companion is the correct word."

"It isn't?" How about a 'pain in the neck'? Is that the right translation? He clenched his fists and closed his eyes in a bid to calm himself and not further provoke the princess. "And what would be a more accurate translation?"

"Give me a moment." She pored over the datapad in her hand, biting her lower lip. "Let me see . . . . ah, there it is."

"What is it?" He snapped, his impatience and exhaustion getting the better of him.

"Wife."