The Finalizer was remaining in Brentaal's orbit for roughly the same reasons they had done so at Ralltiir, to be witnessed assisting with cleanup and to ensure treaty stipulations were adhered to. Kylo had commanded the treaty signing be as public as possible, with no Order personnel in view so none could say the act had been forced. Coerced, yes, but coercion was a far cry from outright subjugation; blandly dominating through force was no longer the way to lead. Doing so would turn any moment of weakness in the Order's forces into an invitation for revolt.
Disagreements were unavoidable and expected, but a foreign military occupation gave unnecessary credence to such complaints. If instead, one's own leaders allied their forces with said foreign power for the good of the people, that was just politics. Those who would raise a fuss in that situation could be easily dismissed, and employing a government's existing laws legitimized the process, binding them for as long as the treaty parties existed.
Hux, Zuben, Prentys, and Kylo himself had crafted the treaty to leave no loopholes. Every planet that signed became a federated state recognizing the First Order as their sovereign authority, and backing out carried dire consequences. The majority of a planet's governing methods remained, except where those methods contradicted the First Order's, in which case Order statutes took precedence. Among the requirements included the designation of a single representative for the planet, if there was not one already in place, and the construction of First Order bases and facilities for mandatory education.
Kylo refused to precipitate another regime which denied its citizens equal opportunity for advancement. An uneducated populace deprived the galaxy of potentially valuable assets and stagnated progress. Still, he understood that establishing a permanent military presence on each world was vital. Base facilities were to be built first, and the schools would come after.
At their surrender, the noble houses of Brentaal were instructed to appoint three advisors for their chosen representative, a practice now standard for planets with a similar ruling structure as it improved planetside morale and efficient decision making. The houses had nominated Erzin Cormond as representative, a reasonable and mature man who passionately protested using slave labor to build the First Order base.
This was news to Kylo, who'd been under the impression that utilizing enslaved workforces had already been discontinued under Snoke. Prentys carefully verified that Cormond's concern was, indeed, warranted. Though definitely irate, Kylo was not shocked he'd been lied to by his former master. What was shocking was this hadn't come to light before now, as Brentaal was surely not the only society rejecting the practice. Cormond's demeanor eased after Kylo stated he would issue a formal edict banning all slavery in First Order territories, and the talks proceeded smoothly.
When Kylo returned to the Finalizer the next morning he convened another little meeting of his generals, before Prentys' scheduled late-morning departure, and made good on his word to Cormond. Generals Zuben and Lohne disappointed him by arguing against such a decree, insisting slave workforces made construction simpler and faster. Kylo suspected it was more than that, as he caught Hux's narrowed eyes directed at the two. Nevertheless, Kylo reminded them one's continued well-being was a direct result of one's obedience, then found Hux on their way out.
"I want the treaty amended to include this: selling any sentient individual, against their will or not, is slavery. This includes parents selling their own children. They can leave unwanted children at an officially recognized orphanage."
A low-ranking officer nervously approaching made Kylo pause. She cautiously sidled up to Hux and handed him a datapad, doing a poor job of trying not to look at Kylo. The general scanned the document quickly and authorized it before handing the pad back. As soon as the device was in the officer's hands, she fled.
"Watching them run away from you used to be amusing," the general remarked absently. Blue eyes blinked and Hux shook his head, motioning for Kylo to continue. "Apologies."
Unsure of what to make of that statement, Kylo went on. "If a child is not spoken for within a standard year of being orphaned, they become wards of the First Order. This is to be retroactive, going back at least five will be housed and educated in our facilities to be recruited upon completion of basic studies."
"While that does take care of our current recruiting needs, the ages of such children coming into the program poses a problem."
His mouth threatened to give way to a smirk, but Kylo busied it with speaking as he resumed walking. "Afraid of the older children?"
In a voice that was doing its best to leave out any snark, Hux responded, "Of course not, but the Stormtrooper program is designed to begin at a very young age."
"Then put them to other uses, Hux. I am not the leader of a slave ring, nor will I turn out children to die in the streets of Order territories."
"Point taken. I will set things in motion later this afternoon."
"Good. Regarding the Stormtroopers, did you notice the reactions to them on Brentaal?"
"If you mean of the civilians, yes. It's a common reaction."
Kylo had been thinking of this for days, ever since the battle had ended and troopers had been stationed planetside. Civilian reactions were heavily colored by their memories of the Empire remnant's involvement in Brentaal affairs. It didn't take a mind reader to figure that out, though he was and had, and the issue needed to be dealt with if the First Order was going to continue adding planets to their federation. Before, Kylo had said he would not repeat the mistakes of the Empire and he would hold to that.
"It is unacceptable," he stated. "Modify the appearance; my men are not Imperial soldiers."
Hux's eyebrows knitted together in confusion. "Of the uniforms? But —"
Waving a gloved hand, Kylo cut him off before he could complain. "I realize the inconvenience, General. Spray paint them if you have to. Get it done."
"Spray pa— I understand your reasoning, my Lord, but with less than a week before we reach Corellia, such a wide scale change is just not possible."
"Then it is fortunate I am not ordering it done by Corellia. I want an obvious difference in time for their deployment on Coruscant. Reminding every Coruscanti of Level Three-two-zero-four will have us wasting time with civilian resistance."
This time not attempting to keep the snark out of his voice at all, Hux asked, "Is there any particular color you would prefer?"
When Kylo only stared at him unappreciatively, Hux sighed. "Yes, my Lord."
He could tell the redhead wanted to argue with him, but would not do so within earshot of anyone else. They'd had that conversation long ago. Kylo didn't mind Hux's disagreements; the man was awarded a good deal of leeway due to their much-improved working relationship and he often had a good point, but Kylo refused to be disputed in front of subordinates. Hux liked that stipulation as much as he seemed to like the notion of modifying the trooper uniforms, but Kylo knew he would be obeyed regardless.
Another unfamiliar officer fell in step beside Hux and informed the general his attention was needed immediately. At Hux's angry reply that he was obviously busy, the officer began to speak in hushed tones. A pointless precaution, as Kylo was able to hear perfectly well that the woman Hux had brought aboard was insisting she be allowed groundside to aid the hospitals. The general was adamant she not be allowed to undock nor board any vessel and hastily excused himself from Kylo's presence.
As Hux headed to an adjacent corridor, Kylo tested his mind. Worry, frustration, and an interesting tinge of panic tangled in Hux's head. Kylo was able to garner only a vague fear of some specific thing happening, but what that thing was remained murky, and deeper probing would alert the general his mind was being tampered with. For some reason, the older man was more sensitive to such intrusions than the other generals.
On returning to his office following a blessedly uneventful lunch in his quarters, Kylo spent some time going over Hux's complete records. It took some effort to get past the handful of sealed files pertaining to what would have been a court case, but doing so proved to be worthwhile. He found that the pale alien woman was most definitely not a mere acquaintance. A more apt description would be personal physician, psychiatrist, and advocate who was directly responsible for Hux's release from a facility on Merisee. An asylum, to be exact, known for dealing with difficult cases. More interesting was Hux's release, which took place after staying over a year on the very ship docked in the Finalizer's hangar.
Hux's sealed files contained roughly the same story as the public files, but were far more in depth and included supplementary documents. The extra information confirmed Kylo's belief that Hux had been sent away, not for real treatment, but to be gotten out of the way for his father's benefit. Brendol Hux had his son tossed into a hospital on Naboo, the only facility listed in the general records, and then abandoned him once the scandal died down. Only after the youth actually showed, or perhaps developed, signs of true mental affliction did anyone pay attention to him again. Even then, the doctors' attention had only gone so far as to transfer the violently disruptive patient to Merisee Asylum.
Apparently, young Hux had begun assaulting anyone who got within range, resulting in the Naboo facility declaring him criminally insane. At Merisee, his penchant for escaping to cause as much chaos as possible before capture led to his being kept under near-constant sedation. A plethora of images documented the damage Hux caused and Kylo would be impressed had it not been the work of a clearly disorganized mind. Hux's list of offenses was staggering when compared to the polished and tightly controlled figure the man cut going about his duties now, the man Kylo had meetings with almost daily.
This Lady Airmeneia — the documents used both medical and formal titles for her — had stepped in where the Merisee staff had given up. She examined Hux, though how was a mystery and there was no log of the actual examination, then immediately requested total custody of his treatment. Despite zero records identifying her as a staff member of any kind, she was given full authority over her patient. Kylo could recall no precedent to this sort of decision in any medical facility, the giving away of a patient to such a person. Yet, the transfer had been made legal through obscure and archaic, though apparently still valid, routes. She and Hux had stayed on the Northao, that ship she didn't want anyone but Hux on, for eighteen months. When she'd brought her patient back miraculously cured, the Merisee Asylum authorized his release that very day.
There were only vague references to the events causing this sharp turn in Hux's life. The young man had been at the top of his university classes, physics and mathematics studies, before the murders. Searching a little deeper rewarded Kylo with a holo of one of the interviews, done before his being taken to Naboo, in preparation for the trial that never took place. After locking his office door to ensure no one else might inadvertently see part of the holo, Kylo played it.
A rough looking Hux, likely in his early twenties, glared straight ahead with hands secured together and feet bound to the chair he sat upon about a meter behind a small table. There was an armed guard at both his seven and five o'clock positions.
"Armitage Jaymond Hux. You are being assessed today regarding the murders of…I'm not going to list them," came the tinny voice of the interviewer.
"Why not? Go on," young Hux taunted.
"Previous interviews show that you seem to enjoy it. You've freely admitted to killing these fourteen people, is that correct?"
"Very. What is the nature of this interview?"
"This is a psychological evaluation."
The holo-Hux gave a humorless laugh and shook his head. "Is it? Shocking."
"You don't seem very surprised."
Hux tilted his head in an eerie manner and leaned forward. "They let you in here? With me? With an intellect like that? Who did you piss off?"
One of the guards grabbed Hux's shirt and slammed him back into the chair, to which the pale youth chuckled and glanced back at them.
"My records show that you don't exhibit any regret over your actions," said the interviewer, seemingly nonplussed. "Is that accurate, you feel no remorse for taking those lives?"
"Absolutely none."
"Why is that?"
"Do you feel, ah...exhibit any regret over throwing away garbage?"
"You mean to say these people, every single one, were garbage?"
"The lot of them were degenerate filth," Hux spat, face twisting with contempt. "Cowards who slaughtered women and children with their terrorist bombs."
"Is that a reference to Armilen?"
Holo-Hux suddenly strained violently against his bonds, his hands somehow free, and the cords connecting his feet to the chair snapped. There was a clattering blur of motion then. The table was thrown into the interviewer, one of the guards screaming as something in Hux's hands was driven into their neck, and a spray of red hit the holorecorder before the holo stopped.
Kylo stared at his desktop where the miniature scene had played out. The few times he had seen the general in such an active state involved the officer's training arena. Kylo now had a private facility and that particular awkwardness hadn't been repeated, but even then Hux had not appeared so uncharacteristically feral.
Searching the files for any reference to Armilen, the name mentioned by the interviewer, rewarded him with a single file including an image of a ginger female appearing the same age as holo-Hux and with the same last name. She must have been the general's twin, the visible similarities uncanny and their birth dates mere minutes apart.
Armilen Hux's file contained a date of death in 20 ABY with a reference to a terrorist attack on some transport station Kylo had never heard of. Her coroner report listed multiple injuries but cardiac arrest for cause of death. Further down, there was a notation marking suffocation as cause of death for the child she was carrying.
Kylo pushed his chair away from the desk and stood to pace around his office. He wanted something to use against Hux in the future, should the need arise, and an explanation for the general's odd relationship with the strange woman on their flagship. Granted, he had found the latter, but accompanied by a personal tragedy Kylo hadn't wanted to know. It made him uncomfortable.
This story at least provided insight on certain aspects of Hux's personality: the avid savagery toward any kind of rebellion and his drive to see governance established to stop the type of attacks which murdered his sister and unborn niece. No wonder there had been animosity between them before, heavily molded by Snoke's influence, as the tall general watched Kylo receive privilege based on lineage when the only family Hux cared about had been brutally torn from him.
Not unlike Kylo's own family history, the difference being that his parents had torn themselves from him. The only tragedy there was his being born Force sensitive to two people who should never have gotten married in the first place, much less become parents. Then Skywalker's betrayal and witnessing the destruction of the academy... Kylo stopped pacing and rubbed his temples to stay the headache he felt coming. This was a waste of time. Now that his curiosity about Hux was sated, though a niggling caution still remained regarding their new guest, he needed to get to work.
He had ordered the Knights of Ren to the Finalizer immediately after Brentaal's signing, whatever mission they were on irrelevant with Snoke dead. The time had come for Kylo's knights to be used for his own purposes, one of which was funding. The financial state left by Snoke was prosperous, but Kylo had made significant changes to the Order and change had a price tag. Unwilling to compromise on certain issues, he had already ventured into commerce by purchasing several mining and metal recycling businesses through a shell company. A company registered in his legal name.
Snoke never bothered legalizing his change of Kylo's name, assuming the Supreme Leadership of it all official enough, and Kylo could not exactly saunter into the courts of Hana City himself. Even if he did, the name 'Kylo Ren' would draw far too much unwanted attention to his dealings. Purchasing assets in the name of the Order was also out of the question. In the eyes of the New Republic, the First Order was a terror organization and thus lacked the widespread legal recognition necessary to acquire businesses. Kylo was fine with that since he realized organizations came and went, and if something went wrong with the Order any capital gained would be lost with it.
Allowing one of his conniving generals to oversee the financing of Kylo's ultimate goal was too ridiculous a notion to entertain. The most convenient option to retain control would be to use a dormant company he had established a lifetime ago. Not the most pleasant, but the company already existed under his previous name and he had needed to make arrangements quickly.
So far, the setup was working well enough and revenue was beginning to steadily pour into his accounts. Kylo planned to send Masma Ren and General Lohne to deal with the one company proving troublesome to acquire. The Outer Rim Oreworks Mining Company's business practices were deplorable, their employees subjected to terrible conditions, and Kylo would lose no sleep doing things the hard way. He had Corellia to attend to and would not use his own time when other people's was available.
Zuben's plan for Corellia first required securing their navy's funders in the Order's pocket. Hux's operants had been gradually escalating the native turmoil on the planet for weeks, and soon conditions would become so desperate the Corellian Navy would stage a coup. Beleaguered freedom fighters would receive gracious assistance from the Order, first represented by General Prentys, in their fight against the new navy regime. Zuben's plan would culminate with the Finalizer arriving and lending military support to the Corellian rebel effort to end the coup. Her intent was to soften the Corellians by having them see Kylo and the Order help the people, then press the advantage to persuade them to sign his accord. A good and clean plan.
Sensing someone was at his door, Kylo used the Force to unlock and open it. Errion Ren stood in her black wrap-coat, sleek helmet firmly on her head, and a shoto lightsaber on each hip. She walked into his office silently, correctly assuming the opening of the door to be the invitation. When the door closed behind her, she pulled the helmet off and stood at attention before him, a deep orange braid circling her head in a messy crown.
"Master."
"Errion. The helmet is no longer mandatory on Order ships. You have heard news of the Supreme Leader?"
Grey eyes studied him for a moment before she replied, "You are now the Supreme Leader, Master."
Kylo felt his face twitch at the name and sighed irritatedly. Errion was difficult to gauge at times, her bearing giving hardly any hint to her true intent. Over the years, since Snoke had chosen her to be the first of Kylo's apprentices, he had developed the ability to discern the meaning of even the most minute adjustment in her body language. She was anxious and overalert, as if being in his presence now made her nervous where before she would have been attentive, but at relative ease. The knowledge was distressing, but he pushed it aside.
"I am Lord Kylo Ren of the First Order."
Her eyebrow arched. "You have not taken the title of Supreme Leader?"
"I have replaced it with a less ridiculous title. Did you complete your mission?"
Errion took a breath, her body tensing. Kylo's stomach turned as it dawned on him what was happening. She had not completed her mission, whatever it was, and now expected to be punished by Kylo as Snoke had punished all of them. Keeping his face blank was difficult with rage rearing its head within him as memories surfaced. Being summoned to Snoke's throne room to find one, or all, of his knights writhing in pain and desperately trying to keep silent. Screaming seemed to inspire their mercurial overlord to further action.
"At the time of my recall, I had not, Master. I take full responsibility for my failure. As Supreme Leader Snoke is gone, you may punish m—"
"No," he interrupted quickly, "Snoke is dead, Errion, and his methods with him. All of them." It was almost impossible to keep the disgust out of his voice.
The woman's breath hitched and her jaw clenched before she caught herself and smoothed her features back to neutral. He had expected a reaction from her. None of the knights knew how their mistreatment had affected him. Snoke had used the abuse of them as a punishment for Kylo's own failings, real or imagined, once the dead leader had figured out the impact it had on his student. Kylo was their master and was supposed to protect them, but instead was the cause of their suffering. The guilt of that sat heavy on Kylo even now.
The Knights of Ren had no idea the same master who trained them into living weapons would not be able to keep food in his stomach for days after witnessing their pain. Kylo never let on the nightmares that followed such events. Waking up with cold sweat on his skin and bile rising in his throat from dark dreams where he was as unable to save his knights in his mind as he was in reality. Even so, Kylo would rather they viewed him as cold and uncaring than allow them to see a weak master. Though, once — with his two personal apprentices — that mask had been shattered.
He fought to pull the surging tide of anger back so he could attend to business. Controlling his emotions had become only slightly less difficult since his last connection with the desert girl, but he rejected the wondering thoughts that his ability to walk that narrow path of control was linked to this bond. Kylo recentered himself and began outlining Errion's mission to Corellia, soothed to note that her shoulders relaxed just slightly. He was glad she hadn't taken a knee when she came in — the thought of his knights bowing and scraping as they had been forced to with Snoke was repellent.
Errion would have to wait for Deprat Ren to arrive, so Kylo instructed her to spend the time as she saw fit. Likely, she would train and rest in intervals as she usually did. When she left, she carried the helmet under her arm and Kylo almost wished he could walk with her to observe the reaction from the crew. Errion was not terrible to look upon by any means and it would be the first time her face was seen by anyone outside the Rens. The knights had never been unmasked before, both to hide their identity and to intimidate.
But Kylo Ren's First Order was not the same beast as Snoke's. The only ones who preferred the helmets were Deprat and himself, and Kylo had grown used to being without his. Although it had been lost in a fit of pique at Snoke's insults, despite the Supreme Leader being the one insisting on masks in the first place, the time had come to leave it in the past. Kylo was done hiding in the shadows and watching the galaxy fall apart.
Corellia's situation was not ready for the Finalizer's arrival, but he was eager to move forward. Hux received news regularly that events were still coinciding with their plans, the good news making Kylo itch to take action. With Coruscant also on the horizon, however, it was more important that Kylo have at least the skeleton of a strategy in place before the First Order reached Corusca sector. That work took up the next handful of hours and near the end left Kylo more frustrated than anything else.
Coruscant was such a logistical mess and so politically convoluted that addressing every minor issue that might come up was more trouble than it was worth. Even with a method in mind for taking the planet, if things were to change the planning could all be for naught. He downloaded the stratagem and relevant information on a datapad for Hux so it could be fleshed out and modified, as Kylo wasn't interested in working on it further. He was interested in getting out of his chair, and so rose to make his way toward Hux's office.
This had become a habit of sorts, Kylo using every opportunity to move about the ship. He felt it had improved the crew's attitude toward their new leader, seeing him doing things on a regular basis. Protocol would have a lower ranking officer shoulder the responsibility of delivering data to and fro, but Kylo was above such regulation and disliked the restlessness that came with sitting for long periods. Turning a corner brought voices to his ears and he looked up to see Hux and his doctor friend walking toward him, involved in a heated exchange.
"No, what I'm saying is that you cannot be left here, 'Neia. It isn't safe," the general was saying in a frustrated tone.
"And I am saying I must go, moreni. These people have much fear," she countered. She gestured with a pale hand, gauzy fabric fluttering as she did, and continued. "I cannot ignore... Here, what is this word?"
Hux furrowed his brow in concentration and stared at nothing for a moment before answering, "Mm, distress? Need?"
"Iia. How can I turn my face away? Have these ones not done as you asked? Are they not under your protection now?"
"They are, but the fact is these people would consider you part of the First Order and I am not so foolish as to believe we are a loved organization," Hux reasoned. "Don't you see? You will want to help them, but they might only see you as an enemy. I will not be there to protect you." The last words were heavily stressed and Kylo could tell the general's exasperation was growing.
There was a trilling noise, as if from a bird, and Kylo realized it had come from the woman when it ended with an irate sigh. She saw him standing at the end of the corridor and made the same motion as their first meeting, fingers touching her forehead and moving out toward him.
"Tisi, Lord Kylo Ren. I hope peace has found you." Crinkled material, thin and snowy with sparse gold beading, wrapped her body in a slightly different style than the last time Kylo saw her. It moved like water when she lowered her arm back to her side.
General Hux gathered himself and made his own reception, though Kylo caught the anxiety bloom strong in his mind. "Lord Ren."
Kylo, unsure how to acknowledge her greeting, nodded at the female before turning to Hux. "Is there a problem, General?"
Before Hux could respond, she beat him to it. "I wish to accompany your men to Brentaal surface. My son argues."
"And she wishes to be left there with them for some galaxy-kriffing reason," Hux added hotly.
"Miitaj," she said disapprovingly, laying a hand on his arm, "seroth pun'o iali." The unmollified man huffed and she turned to Kylo again. "These people have distress, mieth'teni."
Seeing Kylo's eyebrow raise at the strange appellation, Hux jumped in. "It means 'leader', my Lord."
Kylo glanced at him, then back at Hux's surrogate maternal figure. "The General is correct. You would be stranded here and we are not returning anytime soon."
Lavender eyes looked down searchingly before fixing on him again. "Then, please, mieth'teni, my ship —"
"Airmeneia…." Hux interrupted warningly, going bowstring-taut. Testing the man's mind again, Kylo sensed Hux was indeed panicked and preparing for some sort of incident. Interesting.
He held up his hand, trying to summon patience from within himself and only mildly succeeding. "The Northao is not cleared for undock while that hangar is in use. You will remain on the Finalizer for the time being."
The deep violet dappling around her face, neck, and what could be seen of her shoulders darkened. Her slit pupils grew to almost full circles and her expression became stony. The effect was unsettlingly familiar, though Kylo couldn't place why. He almost imagined the woman bathed in a blue glow, but the thought faded. She locked her large eyes with his and then slid her gaze to Hux, who returned the look with worry.
Finally, she closed her eyes and nodded, purple dappling returning to its former shade. "I am much disappointed to be kept here when I am needed." Beside her, Hux looked like he might be sick. Her eyes opened, pupils their usual wide slits again, and she leveled them at Kylo. "But I understand. I will do this for my son. Tisi."
As they both watched her go, Kylo heard his general letting out a shaky sigh. Turning to him, Hux said, "I apologize, my Lord. She can be very…." He trailed off, as if searching for the right word.
"Stubborn. I noticed."
"Yes. I will tell her your word is final and not to press you again."
Kylo stifled a scoff and handed the datapad to Hux. "I'm sure that will go well."
"My Lord?"
"Information regarding Coruscant and some notes on possible ways to proceed. Expand and adapt it. I want something workable by the time we close dealings with Brentaal."
Nodding, Hux's eyes scanned the data quickly. "Very good. I will see to it." There was a pause before the general spoke again, "There is something else, my Lord. Regarding the new edict."
Kylo studied Hux's face for a moment, deciding whether or not he wanted to deal with this right now, but ended up motioning for the other man to follow as Kylo turned to start back toward his own office. Hux explained the situation in as few words as possible but the succinctness did nothing to assuage Kylo's temper, which had risen steadily by the time they reached their destination.
The last hallway had been filled with absolute silence as Kylo attempted to bring himself under control. Now he stood, as the door to his office closed behind them both, facing away from the general and focusing on clenching and unclenching his fists at his sides. Inside his mind, a storm was building and it seemed the more he tried to calm it, the more violent it became. He could feel the muscles in his jaw twitching. From behind him, the red haired man was still as a statue, likely concerned about the safety of his neck.
"I trust this contract has been canceled," Kylo finally bit out.
The answer came immediately and in a quieter voice than normal, "Directly after your order was given."
It calmed him only a little, but Kylo welcomed it. He found that he no longer relished losing control as he had previously. "Have we received any further messages from them?"
"No, my Lord. We have been monitoring for Hutt transmissions, but there hasn't been anything further." When Kylo said nothing, Hux broke the stretch of quiet. "You were...unaware of this contract?"
When Kylo turned to face him, Hux straightened and lifted his chin as the Lord of the First Order stared at him. "I was under the impression this...failing...had been dealt with years ago."
A look of understanding came over the general's face but he said nothing further on that, opting to continue with business instead. "No communication doesn't rule out the possibility of retaliation. That contract was especially lucrative for them."
"How much of the Stormtrooper program was supplied for by the Hutt slave contract?" Kylo asked, muscles in his back and shoulders tightening as if in preparation for a blow. How bad had this fraudulence of Snoke's been? How much had the creature been willing to manipulate and hide from him? Hux wasn't answering. His blue eyes flicked to the side and his lips were pressed together in a straight line.
"Hux!" Kylo shouted, his voice echoing against the walls. Now was not the time for Hux to test his longanimity.
"Sixty-four percent."
Both chairs in the room flew into the opposite wall, their impact breaking off pieces that skittered across the floor. The desk shook violently before bending inwards on itself, metal screaming as a mug broke against the floor and datapads fell with it. Hux paled but stood in place, unmoving and eyes straight ahead, as the crumpled metal finally settled.
Kylo had been vehemently and vocally against the First Order using slavery from the very moment he'd found out about it. Since the subject had been such a contention despite attempts to correct Kylo's view, Snoke had told him the practice would be stopped as a reward for carrying out his duties perfectly for a time. Kylo had. The damage it had done to his apprentices, and himself, still lingered. Errion barely communicated with anyone but Masma. And Masma….
At first Errion hadn't understood the sudden change in her master, as she had been his first apprentice and he'd trained her as he wished for fourteen months. Masma, given to him by Snoke a week into his year of obedience, knew no different. Kylo had feared that telling either why their own master tortured them would earn the Supreme Leader's wrath, so both grew fearful and resentful of him. When he finally told them of the year of obedience and why it was necessary, their attitudes changed but the situation did not.
He fought down a wave of nausea and emotion at the memory of a small broken body curled up at his feet with blood, bruises, and burns littering the dark skin. Every wound and injury done by Kylo's own hands per Snoke's instruction in his mind, lest even worse take place. Light brown eyes filled with pride and adoration had stared up at his unmasked and tormented face, even as dark red dripped from her mouth and the breath rattled in her chest. The laughter echoing in his skull as Kylo's master mocked his anguish.
All for nothing.
"Sixty-four." Kylo repeated tonelessly, trying not to think of all he'd done during that time. Things Snoke knew he would normally refuse, things he'd tried to numb himself to. Done under the belief he would not have to participate in the system which had enslaved his grandfather, his youngest apprentice, and — albeit for a short time — the woman who gave birth to him. Things that were done for a lie.
"How much will the new treaty amendment offset that?"
Hux's answer came out lower than usual, almost soft. "The current numbers see twenty-two percent of that deficit being recovered, but that is only Brentaal. By the end of the week I will have numbers that include all federated worlds."
Kylo absently pondered to what extent the man knew his personal affairs, and how. "I want that report as soon as you finish it," he said woodenly. "Masma and Deprat are due in a few days. Make space; you know how she is."
"Ah," Hux said unhappily, likely at being faced with Masma again. "Errion Ren has already arrived?"
Normally Hux would be apprised of every happening on the Finalizer, but the Knights of Ren answered only to their master and the leader of the First Order. Their clearance codes allowed their dock and undock to go unnoticed unless they used the main hangar, which Errion did not. Kylo knew from experience she liked the idea of her appearance or disappearance being a surprise to all but the Order's leader. Masma was the opposite, preferring to make an entrance and would undoubtedly do so upon arriving given her prolonged absence. At least Deprat would be straightforward, as he always was in his habits.
Kylo nodded in response to Hux's question. "She and Deprat will leave to join Prentys at Corellia as soon as Deprat is briefed. General Lohne will accompany Masma to the Outer Rim."
Hux was quiet for a moment before asserting, "Surely Masma Ren is sufficient to deal with the mining company. We may have need of the Conqueror at Corellia."
"I want that company with minimal complications, General. And I doubt the necessity of six ships at Corellia."
"As you wish, my Lord," Hux said. "Are we still keeping these business ventures to ourselves? She will be alone with him."
"We are," Kylo answered. He always found Hux's random flickers of concern for Kylo's two apprentices to be uncharacteristic. "The rest of the High Command doesn't need to know where the money comes from, Hux. Lohne only knows the mining company has something I want. It's all he needs to know. Masma is more than capable of keeping him in line."
"Yes," the older man remarked after a moment, his tone colored with begrudging admittance and apprehension.
His general seemed perturbed by something and Kylo, prodding the man's mind just barely, was able to sense that it was not due to the moving furniture, business dealings, or even the prospect of Masma's attentions. Something else was bothering the redhead and had been since Kylo's decree about slavery among the allied planets. Kylo discerned a reticence in Hux to bring up the matter, whatever it was, borne from unpreparedness. For now, Hux could wallow in it — Kylo had nowhere near the patience to try and wheedle it out of the man without causing lasting harm.
After dismissing Hux, Kylo ordered cleaning droids to his office and three troopers to meet him in his training arena. He had no desire to go through the queue in his quarters when there was aggression and exasperation to work out. While the anger at his dead master had lessened earlier, it had only done so momentarily. Now the feeling was billowing up through his chest and he needed the physicality of a fight.
Combat droids were fine enough, usually, but right now Kylo wanted real combat against real people. The troopers he'd called were three of six who, for some time now, sparred with him regularly. They were the only six out of a great many he'd summoned who did not let fear of him get in the way of their sessions.
All six had been given the code to his arena door, though only two were waiting when he entered. They must have just arrived, as FE-1033 was still tying up her hair and PT-9599 had only begun to pull off his helmet. The last was not yet there, but Kylo knew he could expect her shortly. Rocket troopers couldn't exactly stop immediately if they were in training maneuvers, as the rest of the corp could. Kylo busied himself with disrobing to his pants and undershirt only, not intending to wait.
"Evening, sir," said FE-1033, who called herself Effie. She now sported a messy golden bun on top of her head, her standard choice for their spars.
Kylo knew most of the corp came up with names for themselves despite official procedures forbidding it. In this room only, he did the same both for brevity's sake and because it fostered good relations. "Effie. Pete," he said, nodding to each in turn.
"Sir." PT-9599, known as Pete, replied and raised a brown hand in salute as the door opened and the rocket trooper rushed in.
As soon as the door closed behind her, CZ-2607 pulled her helmet off and ran a hand through her short hair. The disheveled state she was in suggested she had run all the way from the lower decks. A good distance; no wonder she was breathless. That fact salved his irritation.
"Sir, I'm so sorry!" she panted as she pulled off the rocket pack. "We were in the middle of an exercise when the call came in."
Siza, as CZ-2607 called herself, kept her body armor on like all the troopers did during these workouts. Kylo was the only one who regularly chose not to wear any, also forsaking use of both lightsaber and the Force. He nodded at her and motioned impatiently toward the wall of practice weapons. Pete almost always chose batons, being well versed in their use as a riot control trooper, while the other two varied their choices. Without further preamble, Kylo gestured with his practice saber for them to begin.
Immediately, they came at him as one unit. Each tested his defenses and when one would dart forward to attack, the other two prepared to make their own pass at him. Every so often two would assail him in tandem while the one remaining stayed on the defensive and watched his responses. Kylo didn't worry too much about whether he was leaving himself open or not, as there was always an opening to be found by a skilled fighter. Obsessing about a perfect defense would obstruct his ability to make a tenable offense.
As he blocked attacks and made his own, his mind began to calm. Moving his body and mind together required every scrap of his attention, leaving zero room for extraneous thought. Having the three of them against him was better than a battalion of combat droids, in his opinion. Droids, while efficient, could not intuit and react purely on instinct. Such was only possible for flesh and blood, except the extremely advanced droids which the First Order did not use for combat. Another reason for using live spar partners was their ability to work together and coordinate attacks in ways Order combat droids were not widely programmed to do.
Each one of them was good at something the others were not. When it came to finding every minute opening and exploiting it to the fullest, Effie was surgically precise. She had once, in a previous match, somehow gotten to the inside of his wrist making him drop his practice saber, and he'd been forced to use just his hands for the duration of the bout. Pete was excellent at assessing his opponent and designing moves meant to draw out and annoy, aggravating the enemy until they faltered. Siza was the opposite; she rushed in fiercely and bombarded her enemy with an onslaught of aggressive moves. If one wasn't careful against her, they would tire out and lose to her stamina and energy.
Effie swiped at the back of his leg and when he dodged, it put him straight in line of a baton whipping out to crack against his shoulder. Kylo instantly lashed out with a kick but Pete had already retreated after his attack, so Kylo was only able to graze his midsection. The fight went on until Siza grunted in pain and dropped to the ground, holding her arm as the practice saber she had been using against him fell to the floor. Kylo held up a fist and the other two stopped. Pushing into her mind, he recognized the sensations as likely from a broken bone and instructed Effie to call a medical droid.
Cuts and bruises were of no concern to him, as troopers were trained to continue their duties with all sorts of small injuries, but a broken bone needed to be treated without delay. He had no wish to cause permanent damage to his people, at least not to those who were loyal. While this had not been the first time a serious injury took place among the six troopers he trained with, Kylo had a vested interest in keeping their overall health intact.
Siza was still learning the saber, as only very basic use of them was taught to troopers, and her stance had not been adequate to deflect the force of his attack. Her form had instantly broken, causing his wooden saber to glance off hers and into her arm. Having taken off her forearm protector to allow full range of her wrist and therefore more easily use the saber, her unguarded arm took the full brunt of his down-swing. Kylo was irritated with himself for not seeing the flaw and avoiding this mishap.
Falling into a crouch in front of her, he caught her eyes. "Next time drop your center of balance as low as possible and turn the blade fully horizontal. And keep your armor on, Siza. Learn to move around the inconvenience."
"Yes, sir," she said in a voice smaller than her usual one. The deep olive flesh of her face and neck was flushed and her muscles tightened with pain. "Sorry, sir."
"Don't apologize," he corrected simply. Siza nodded with eyes squeezed shut, dark blunt-cropped bangs sticking to her forehead.
He wanted to take her to the infirmary himself but would not insult her by treating her like she wasn't the hardened soldier she'd spent all her life training to be. Her breaths were unsurprisingly short and he instructed her in breathing exercises to help ease the discomfort. The arm was already swelling and she held it raised though obviously painful to do so. Kylo knew because he was still in her mind, able to experience the pain for himself.
He'd done the same with his apprentices during the year of obedience, never letting them suffer alone when he was there. Not once. When he inadvertently became Master of the Knights of Ren, he did the same for his other knights: ever-calm Deprat and his polar opposite Bahim, until the latter's death. Always, he shared their experience. Sometimes all at once. Because it was, he felt, always his fault they were subjected to it. Accepting that suffering into himself was the only penance he could make. Kylo was now very skilled at taking pain.
After instructing her to relax her arm, he kept it aloft himself using the Force — her blue-green eyes had widened considerably as he did and there was a gasp from behind him — until the medical droids arrived and took over. He ordered Siza put in a bacta tank to further accelerate the healing process, something troopers were not normally granted access to. She cast him a last, apologetic look as she was led away down the corridor. Kylo toweled off and redressed before leaving, knowing that Pete and Effie would stay the customary half hour he gave his troopers after each spar.
Earlier fury dissipated, Kylo showered in his quarters before dressing for sleep. He was not comfortable with the guilt that had surfaced after injuring Siza, though he was certainly not a stranger to the concept. She was a soldier. They got injured. The young woman, along with the rest of his troopers, knew full well what sparring with Kylo Ren meant. None were forced to continue; he made it clear the choice was theirs.
Perhaps it was because Siza was roughly the same height and build as the scavenger. Kylo didn't like the thought but it would stand to reason. The overpowering sense of protection that came over him when that Jakku girl was involved may have bled out into his reaction in the arena. Or perhaps memories of his own actions against his apprentices had exacerbated what would normally have been an easily navigated regret over an accident. That idea didn't sit any better with him.
Ordering his evening meal delivered to his rooms, Kylo decided to do the work he should have been doing while snooping into Hux's background. Finishing took longer due to his straying mind, and he tried meditating in the hopes it would realign the wayward thoughts. Lately, he had been able to attain a measure of success. The thin strip of serene composure was not as difficult to grasp, though it still took too much effort to maintain during most of the day. Whereas before he had been an attack beast and leashing his temper was of minimal importance, now he commanded the entire First Order and having respect was imperative to reaching his goals.
Free from distraction or interruption, meditating was usually the time he would call out to his grandfather. Yet, there remained only silence for his answer. Nothing had come from the Sith Lord since this whole mess began on Jakku. So many things seemed to begin there that Kylo was disappointed Starkiller Base was no longer available to obliterate the hulking desert wasteland. He refocused his attention on meditating, taking deep breaths to center himself.
Attuning to the Force made him think of the last connection with the girl, which reminded him how horribly misled she'd been. It occurred to him he should not have pushed his memories onto her, regardless of his frustration and how much he had wanted to make her see how nonsensical her line of thinking truly was. Once, long ago, he had been just as naive and foolish as she was now. Thinking the galaxy could be trusted to see peace when it was offered, and actually choose it.
He had been wrong. Blindingly so. The galaxy was made up of people and those people, he discovered, were either too selfish or too ignorant to make the choices leading to peace. Every time they were given free rein it was corruption and suffering that ruled, not peace and freedom. She would know that if she had been out there for any reasonable length of time, finding the truth as he once had, instead of pining away in the desert for people who would never come. Now, though, she had a chance to see the reality of things.
Hopefully it would not be long before she understood. This was the only way, only method, that would force the galaxy as a whole to pay attention to the gaping inadequacies of their rulers. Those rulers did not care about protecting them, did not even want to bother with them. Kylo did.
Under his rule they would be united and liberated from corruption and poverty, with every individual having an equal chance at bettering themselves and their lives. Kylo knew not everyone would choose to do so, content to languish in their backward ways, but the avenue would be there for the many who wanted more. Right now, their only option was to be used and taken advantage of.
After witnessing the travesties he had, experiencing the injustice for himself, and watching the sorrow firsthand — for what the scavenger had seen was only a few of many memories — Kylo had wanted to change it more than he had ever wanted anything. Speaking with Skywalker had only agitated them both, since the old man hid behind his Jedi code. Organa had spoken to him as if he were a toddler about all the ways her hands were tied, as useless to him as her twin. Han had been gone most of that year, as usual.
The only person who listened had been intending to draw Kylo into their own machinations all along. Snoke.
Still wary of the man at that point, though the whispers and sly speech had crawled around in his head as long as he could remember, Kylo had thrown himself into academia to distract himself from the despair of powerlessness. His need to understand the things around him were channeled elsewhere and, for a time, the tactic had worked though it eventually set in motion his exile to Skywalker's training temple. That had turned out just wonderfully. The old man was so afraid of seeming to favor his nephew that Kylo had been pushed to the side, never allowed to truly progress.
Skywalker's neglect had only served to make things easier for Snoke. Whereas before, Kylo had been wary and at times frightened of his Force abilities, the scraps of teaching his uncle gave him had whet his appetite for knowledge. Limited information was never enough for Kylo, not with any subject, and he'd resorted to studying the Jedi texts in secret to get more.
Snoke had answers in plenty and when Skywalker attempted to murder his nephew, to whom else would Kylo turn? After the dust had settled, and Kylo witnessed what telling Snoke the location of the temple had wrought, he knew he could never return home. No acceptance or forgiveness would come from them. There was nowhere else to go.
Kylo sighed, frustrated. His thoughts would not do as he wanted, and he already knew Vader would not come. Nothing was going to be gained tonight by continuing this joke of a meditation exercise. He exited his meditation room and, after turning out the lights using the Force because at least that would work, made his way to his bedroom. On the way, he grabbed the bottle of Nabooian whiskey from the table holding his spirits and poured himself a healthy glass. If meditating wasn't going to cooperate in settling his mind so he could sleep, he could still be confident the whiskey would be obliging.
