The next couple of weeks were quite busy for Rose – to her surprise she realised that she was soon due for her vacation on Hays Minor. Finally she could report to the Resistance what she was doing … sadly she hadn't been able to get Hux talking about the top secret projects.

They had returned to their comfortable, slightly weird partnership. Sometimes she caught herself looking at him, the rare occasions where they touched each other when handing each other pads or cups with tea or caf made her feel funny, as if she had touched a live current. Sometimes she caught him staring at her.

Tarc was as noisy as always. "You missed Sabacc again! I sure hope he's at least good in the sack!"

"Will you give it a rest? Not every relationship is about sex," sighed Sarith as he ate his breakfast oatmeal.

"He's right, you know," added Rose.

"Pfff, you're both so boring. You could at least tell me which one it is."

Rose crooked her eyebrow. "Are you so desperate for gossip?"

"Yes! Come on, give me something," whined Tarc.

"Well … I'll soon visit my family. I'll keep you posted on my uncle's dating disasters." Rose emptied her caf mug.

Tarc beamed at her. "Yes please! And remember to get all the details!"

Rose chuckled. "Will do."

-o-

"You seem quieter than usual," remarked Hux.

Rose looked up from the prototype duct cleaner she was working on. She rubbed her temple. "My vacation is coming up. It feels like an eternity since I last spoke to my family."

"I'm certain they appreciate the payments you sent them."

"Perhaps," she thought again at the lack of her progress. Then she thought about Paige – would she be able to come the Hays Minor?

"Tea?"

She nodded and he prepared the tea eggs.

"I hope my sister will show up. We had quite the disagreement before I left."

He poured hot water in the mugs. He looked exhausted, pale and with bags under his eyes. "They'll accept you choice eventually."

She scoffed. "Not really. But whatever brings food on the table."

He handed her the tea and suppressed a yawn.

"You look horrible by the way," she said.

"Thanks," he replied sarcastically. "There is this huge presentation coming up … I need to make sure everything is perfect."

Rose sat up, alert to the piece of intel. "Yeah, but you need to sleep sometimes. What's the presentation about anyway?"

"A new weapon system we're developing. And there is nothing a few stims wouldn't fix."

"A new weapon system, huh? I guess that's all you can tell me about it?" she asked, trying to keep her voice calm.

He yawned again and nodded. "The presentation is due in tomorrow. I hope I can get some rest after that."

"So you won't be around tomorrow evening?"

"No, the presentation itself is during the day but there is a," he grimaced, "a banquet in the evening."

"That doesn't sound so bad." She pulled the egg out of the tea and took a sip.

"Rich food doesn't agree with me." There was a bitterness in his voice she had rarely heard.

She eyed him. He seemed to notice and pressed his lips together.

"Reminds me of all the horrible Lifeday celebrations I lived through," she said casually. "Lots of traditional food that was so greasy and heavy that I felt after one bite that I wouldn't have to eat for at least two weeks."

He frowned.

"But there is a secret to survive it," she said and nudged him in the upper arm.

His frown disappeared. "A secret?"

"Sure, it's an old family recipe: veggie dumplings. Just eat a few the day before and you won't have heartburn."

He laughed. "That doesn't sound right – how are dumplings supposed to help?"

She shrugged. "No idea. But they help. And they're delicious."

"Perhaps you'll eat some on your vacation."

"I don't think so; the dumplings are only for festive occasions. Lifeday is still far away."

"Ah." He seemed to mull over something. Perhaps he was wondering if it was a matter of money. She needed to steer the conversation back on topic.

"Do you have banquets often?"

He exhaled. "Thank the stars not – only on very special occasions."

Damn it, she needed to keep him talking. But how in the galaxy was she supposed to ask about the presentation and the weapons system without raising suspicion? "I guess Lifeday doesn't count."

He chuckled. "Not really. It's an empty rite anyway."

"Somehow I'm not surprised that you don't like Lifeday." She took a slip of tea.

"It has nothing to do with liking or disliking it. It is simply dated. Perhaps it is still relevant on planets with a weak state structure … where blood relations still are more important than allegiances to higher political ideas."

She took a gulp of her now cold tea and grimaced. "It's just a festive occasion to get together. And to bicker with distant family members of course. There is nothing political about it."

He straightened his jacket. "Everything is political."

This is not a conversation she should have with him. It irked her, but then she simply shrugged. "Maybe."

His eyebrow rose. "You don't agree?" Damn him and the smug expression on his face.

"Of course I don't!" she snapped before she could stop herself. "Ah, I mean- most things are political but I don't think that Lifeday-"

"You can't be possibly serious!" He put his tea cup back on the table. "Festivities are a means to promote a lifestyle! To support values that are important to the social structures-"

She threw her hands in the air. "So what? What's wrong with giving gifts to family members? What's so horrible about meeting up with loved ones?"

"It's weakness!" he hissed with so much vitriol that she clenched her hands to fists. He clasped his hand behind his back and straightened himself. "A mediocre system to enable mediocre people! Instead of boldly going ahead you're dragged down by obligations to people who happen to be your relatives! Instead of forging their own destiny people are held back by lazy compromises!"

She stared at him. His glare was hard, his lips pressed together to a thin line. By the stars, he really was a rabid cur – not some gentle engineer … a mad fanatic. She felt how shame washed over her. Why hadn't she seen it before? Cold anger took hold of her.

"Yes sir," she pressed out.

He seemed taken aback, his gaze softened. He took his tea mug from the table and stared into it. "Do you care for another cup of tea?"

What the- was he serious? First he shouted propaganda at her and now she was supposed to drink tea with him?

No, she had to stay calm. She had to stay close to him, listen to him in case he slipped up. Talked about this new weapon. This wasn't supposed to be easy or fun, she reminded herself.

"Yes, thank you." Even she could hear the strain in her voice.

He took her mug and turned to make more tea. Icy silence stretched out. Rose racked her brain to think of something to say, but nothing came to mind. In the end she continued working on the prototype. Hux put the tea on her workbench, she politely thanked him and pretended to work. She saw from the corner of her eye that he lingered for a few moments at her workbench before he returned to his own work.

.

-o-

.

The holo picture of the circuit he was working on spun slowly around its own axis, he halted it with a touch of the holo-keyboard. He wanted to type commands for the programme but his thoughts returned to Ro- since when did he call her Rose? No, she was Specialist Phan.

He wasn't supposed to feel uneasy. He was right … everything was political. She should know that – he was right to tell her. His fingers typed a few lines before they stopped again. He shouldn't have raised his voice like that. The look on her face when she listened to him it- it was different. He couldn't read it, but he suspected that she was angry. The way she had agreed with him in the end had something final about it.

He didn't like it.

It had been no secret that she didn't subscribe to the First Order ideology. She had never pretended to understand it, come to think of it she had subverted the very hierarchy the Order was built on … he had known and still he had … tolerated her.

So why had he even started? He pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled. He was tired, stressed and perhaps- no, he was right. It was his right to lecture her. Family wasn't important.

A memory flashed up in his mind. He was standing before a broad chest covered in medals, staring at these trinkets from long forgotten battles, listening to well-known catch-phrases about order in the galaxy.

He grabbed his left hand and burrowed the nails of his right in the soft flesh. The dull pain did not help. He grimaced. His father had been right of course. He had promised him that he would mould him in his image, even if it was the last thing he would do. And it had been the last thing he had accomplished – right before Hux had made sure that painful, deadly poison was searing through his father's body.

Hux almost scoffed. At the time he had thought he could erase this father from his life … but it had been in vain. For all his talk about forging his own luck he was as much entrapped as Phan with her family.

He glanced at her. She was still bent over the prototype, strands of her hair obscuring parts of her face. Even without seen her face, he knew that she had that focussed look in her dark-brown eyes, slightly chewing her lips as she tinkered with tech.

He liked her. He liked her a lot. He liked how she laughed, how she spoke – always with this glint in her eyes as if she saw something nobody else saw.

The very thought of this glint made warmth spread out in his chest. He had been a fool. He had really thought- hoped that the glint in her eyes was for him. For the second time he almost scoffed. He should know better. She was here to earn money for her family, she joined him in the lab because he had ordered her to … later because she had thought that he would advance her … no, no she was still here. She was still here because of the work she clearly liked.

On top of everything she was also effortlessly brilliant. He looked back on the holo. Without her he wouldn't have solved the problem with Starkiller … She didn't know about that of course. But she had helped him with all his little side-projects. She was simply brilliant. Surely she knew how good she was? It must frustrate her to do menial work on daily basis despite her undeniable skills.

No wonder that she kept coming to the lab. Here she could work on somewhat challenging projects. It was still beneath her of course. She should work on the most important projects the Order has to offer, where she could put her brilliant mind to use.

He stared at the slowly rotating holo-circuit in front of him. What a pity that she was a civilian. A stubborn know-it-all who didn't believe in the First Order ideology. If only she would at least be ambitious enough to pretend to believe – like some of his fellow generals.

But no, she was too good for that. She wore her heart on her sleeve so to speak … but not because she was simple-minded or naïve – but because she hadn't a mean bone in her body.

He glanced again at her. The strands of hair had been pulled together in a sloppy bun. She looked striking. He averted his gaze.

He shouldn't look at her like that. It wasn't- he gulped. He shouldn't humiliate himself. He was a general of the First Order! He had to act like one!

He straightened his jacket. He had to pull himself together.

His train of thought was disrupted by a question: "I need caf. Shall I pour you a mug too?"

He turned on his heel, she had already moved to the table with the thermos jug in the back of the lab. She put her hand on her hip. "Well?"

The glint, the spark in her eyes wasn't there, he realised. "No, thank you," he said in a flat voice. He watched her pour the dark beverage in a mug, unable to turn away his eyes. It was gone, he thought over and over. The stark was gone.

He had seen in countless of times when she had looked at him but now it was missing. It wasn't reserved for the work she loved … she had looked at him with this- this spark in her eyes. And he had only realised it once he had lost it. He pinched the bridge his nose. Kriff. Why in the galaxy had he shouted at her like she was a Stormtrooper at a rally? He had known that she didn't- and still he had tried to force her to deny who she was and what she believed in. Stupid.

Perhaps … perhaps she was still angry at him? Perhaps she would again look at him like she used to be once she had calmed down?

He forced himself to return to work, tried his best to supress his thoughts, but it was in vain. About an hour later he pretended to be tired and they left after a few short words.