((This will probably be the penultimate chapter of Unexpected! Winds of Winter from GOT was on repeat for this and I feel it captures it; have it on in the background when you read if you can!))
The General of the First Order always had an abundance of patience. He found there was no merit to aggression in command and some would disagree. He was always cool and concise when delivering orders. If something went awry, the utmost would be done to fix the blunder and the person responsible would be fairly punished. To send his officers into a frenzy over a small incident was counter-productive. If a mistake was made, to over-react would cause panic and therefore more mistakes would be made. It made no sense to the redhead and so he chose not to part-take. On the up-side; for this reason, his troops were incredibly loyal anyway and so incidents were at a minimum. How terribly disappointed they would be if they realized their dedicated superior intended on providing information to the other side.
But that patience was within the realms of his own command. Finalizer and Starkiller had essentially been tuned to him, right down to the temperature to mirror the climate of his home on Arkanis. Now though, he was completely out of his comfort zone. He couldn't remember the last time he had been in a cantina; it was certainly long before he married Kendra. But here he was in the darkest corner of the Mos Eisley spaceport cantina on Tatooine; a vile place if ever he darkened the door of one. The table was sticky with Gods knew what, the caverns were thick with smoke and fumes from various respirators and nicitain devices.
The clientele also left an awful lot to be desired. To be in the same breathing space and rubbing proverbial elbows with species other than humans was enough to turn his stomach but he couldn't leave just yet. Eyes peeled from beyond his hood, they shifted almost in paranoia. What if he was spotted? And his meeting hadn't even begun yet, his counterparts were yet to arrive. Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe he should leave. But one thing stopped him, the thing that always stopped him: Her. Hux wasn't sure how long he sat there and waited; unable to determine if he was relieved to be alone for this length of time or if his nerves grated because of it.
However, his mind was about to be eased. Disruption was bound to happen sooner or later. Thankfully, it was by the right person. He couldn't categorically say what drew his attention to that particular figure; perhaps she knew to search for the most fearful man within the caverns of the Eisley. An older woman who seemed unafraid and unintimidated by the cantina strode openly and confidently, looking for something or someone. He caught her looking in his direction and it seemed to click; he'd never seen her before in person and yet she seemed to know him.
"General?" The ageing female questioned, peering past the hood and found her suspicions confirmed by the tell-tale strands of amber barely visible under the black material. This was her, the one he'd been waiting for and she was seemingly unaccompanied. Her greying hair rested atop her head in a neat bun while her face appeared simply curious but looked like she could be simultaneously kind and understanding but fierce when called upon.
"General." The respectful title was returned, however grudgingly. Just because he needed help didn't mean he had to like it. Without invitation, she took the seat opposite him; a signal that she could command respect and take charge without too much effort. "Are you alone?"
"I have one or two trustees floating around." Organa answered, effectively masking the itching eagerness of uncovering that unexpected text com earlier the previous day. "They're no threat to you if you're no threat to them, you have my word." That wasn't much of a comfort, evidenced by the uneasy shift of the First Order representative but he had initiated this, his discomfort would have to be shelved.
"That is much appreciated." The older General found herself growing more and more unable to contain herself.
"When I received your com yesterday, I thought it to be either a hoax or trap. Needless to say, my mind wasn't put to rest when you addressed those things directly." Organa sat back in her chair with her arms folded, he didn't dare think she'd be manipulative. It was impossible to ignore the worry and woe echoing in the redhead's face. Finn (who he would know still as FN-2187) had outlined a picture of General Hux and this wasn't him. Finn had illustrated a genocidal psychopath; incapable of caring for anyone or anything, little regard for life and with no time or concern for anything other than his career. That concept alone was why the last line of the com had stayed with her: Please help me protect my family. He had a family. He was willing to betray everything for them. Maybe he did deserve help.
"I needed to be clear." Hux answered softly, half focusing on the conversation, half reminding himself why he was there, the very thing that stopped him from getting up and leaving. His reasoning for this meeting, for the com, for the betrayal was all intensely personal. Kendra was private, few knew of her and while he would have liked to keep it that way, the feelings had become too much and now threatened his career. Or rather, his career threatened her. "This matter is exceptionally private. If we are to work in tandem, I would request that it is handled discreetly."
"Of course." She had expected nothing else, why would he ruin his reputation by allowing someone to think he cared, even loved? That he had a weakness? The curiosity still resided in her face but the understanding he had guessed had now come to join it, it was soothing if he was truthful, even with himself. "Tell me." Where did he even begin? Looking across the table to the woman who now had her hands folded on the table and watching him with encouragement, he knew little of her but maybe that would make it easier. Bowing to necessity, Hux sighed and began with an unusual question.
"Have you ever been in love, General?" Slightly taken aback by the very uncharacteristic question and the tone it was delivered with, Organa blinked in both surprise and pain. It was still raw, losing Han. A body-less funeral had been even harder than saying goodbye to a physical being and here she sat across from the man partially responsible for it.
"I have….." The response was quiet and bewildered, perhaps he had touched a nerve.
"Do you have children?"
"I have one son." Again, puzzlement. Maybe Kylo Ren's true identity and parentage remained a secret within the Order. Whether that was preferential or not was a tormenting thought for another time. He didn't specifically need to know these things but to appeal to the General, to make her understand, communicating with her emotions was, he felt, key. However, if he had known she had lost both her husband and her son (in different ways), he might have chosen a different approach.
"I have two." The little pull of a smile was accidental. How long had it been since he'd seen them? He couldn't remember. He still had no holos; the closest thing he had to a reminder of his sons was the scan he was grateful he had kept with him. "Twins. They and their mother are everything to me. They're the reason I asked to meet you here today." Without voicing it, General Organa urged him to continue. "My wife…." He would find himself pausing a lot throughout the duration of the conversation, purely in a bid to give his case the justice he felt it needed by phrasing it properly. Leia would also notice the little flickers of despair, fondness and apprehension, sometimes only words apart.
"My wife is of Republican birth. She has ties to some of your members. She is…. I can't begin to describe her but if a thunderstorm could take human form, that is the closest I can come to describing Kendra." The next part would probably sound outdated and overly-Imperial but he was sure the General would understand. "She was not quite a gift, more of a bonus, I realize how that sounds." He added with a small nod at the contortion of Organa's face. "Her father financed Starkiller Base. Anytime I made a professional visit, I always ended up getting distracted by this dark haired phantom who would leave the room as soon as I entered it."
"He noticed and offered her to me, Starkiller's funding would be a dowry of sorts." Explaining it to an objective party seemed to put it in some sort of perspective. It reinforced what he was trying to do. He mightn't be able to leave the Order but he could certainly try and rectify his selfish actions in the past. If it meant doing so through politics, so be it. "She had no say in it. She hated me then and she hates me now. I like to think not as much as she used to." The female managed to restrain a flinch at that last particularly raw statement that flowed as fact. "For some inexplicable reason and I don't know why, I don't think I'll ever know; I love her. She has taken over everything I used to be. When our sons were born, the medic said she wouldn't make it through the night. I hadn't wept in some time but that night, I wept, I begged, I prayed and by some divine miracle, it worked."
Leia listened, dumbfounded. Had he not been so enveloped in his own story, he might have noticed it. Laying himself bare wasn't as difficult as he previously feared and underestimation on her part had crossed his mind but yet, he found himself trusting her with this very delicate information. She hadn't killed him; she hadn't purposely drawn attention to him nor had she set her 'trustees' upon him.
"We miscarried recently." The new information was relayed differently; hesitantly and with a twinge of pain and loss that only furthered Leia's placid bafflement.
"I'm sorry to hear that." Leia had never known that pain though she knew of some who had. Ben had been her only and that had resulted in a different brand of heartbreak almost exclusive to her and Han.
"Thank you. Before it happened, before the pregnancy was discovered at all; Kendra left me. Naturally, I didn't accept it as well as my decorum would have dictated. I followed her to Naboo as soon as I could, a month or so later and well…. The details of my daughter were unearthed." Hux breathed through the thoughts of Isabelle and the little he knew of her. Leia didn't rush the silence; monster or not, war criminal or not, a parent was a parent. And before her sat a very desperate father. "She gave me an ultimatum that night." The redhead sat forward, eyes lingering on his untouched drink; merely a token he had purchased to be allowed to sit there quietly. "She said I could have my family and her if I left the First Order." Now it made sense.
Organa's understanding air (though tainted slightly with continuous confusion) remained as she watched him sort through what he wanted to say, what he deemed important enough for her to know. Of course, it was difficult to discuss. Had the roles been reversed and Leia found herself in Hux's position, she had no doubt she would struggle to word things and to be caught up in emotion was only human.
"I'm going to tell you what I told her: I will do anything to have my family back. You and I both know the Order is dangerous. If even a murmur or suspicion of betrayal is found, they'll execute me; I cannot bear to think of what they would do to her… To my boys..." The realization prompted a sudden wave of mild hysteria that he managed to keep confined to a low volume. "I cannot openly leave them but I can do the next best thing if you will allow me and believe me when I say that I can be more than valuable, I can-!"
"General." The crumbling, bumbling misery was almost too much for Leia to process; she needed to stop it for both their sakes. "General, you're helping no one like this. Come on, pull yourself together and focus." A reluctant nod heeded her advice and again, he took his time to regain his composure. However, said composure was fragile; it wouldn't take much to fracture it again but it nudged at the older General. He did need help, such passion indicated that he deserved it. If not for him, his wife and children were innocent. "We're going to need a secure com line or something similar." Brendol's hopeless gaze lifted from the tired, sticky wood of the table; did that mean what he thought it meant? His chance of redemption was going to be granted?
"Yes…. Yes, whatever you deem appropriate, I'll cooperate wholeheartedly with. Everything will be true, everything will be delivered as quickly and as discreetly as possible, I swear it."
"I trust in that much, General." This wasn't a hoax nor was it trap. It was a very sad display of desperation by a husband and father masquerading as a callous human being. Maybe he had been, once upon a time but no more. "I'll have something set up by my finest technicians and you'll be contacted immediately to notify you. You might have little belief in the Force, General, dark side or light but it's powerful. My advice to you would be to keep your mind clear in the presence of Kylo Ren or Snoke. I'm sure you're good enough at that already. We'll be in touch." As Organa left, it was a bittersweet feeling. Success and treachery. He didn't dare examine if it felt good or not.
The next two months passed and slowly, the General began to grow more comfortable in his new role as traitor. Initially, he had been on edge and paranoia ebbed at him whenever Ren stared for too long or when a sudden meeting with the Supreme Leader was demanded. Thankfully, nothing surfaced and he began settling again. The information was passed quickly and effectively with little incident and Hux actually found something he hadn't found in the Order for a long time, if at all. Appreciation. When things began to return to normal (save for this extra role), he resumed his clawing desperation for personal time. A text com he had completely forgotten about came in conjunction with the proposed dates of his personal time, as if someone had tweaked it for him.
C. Varnett: The boys are turning one in a month's time, giving you plenty of notice to secure personal time. They will be on Naboo with me. Cannot say if Ken will be in attendance. Would advise you'd have made headway on divorce decision. Hope you can make it. C.
