AN: Hello & welcome back. I hinted at shenanigans last chapter, and you can probably tell what's up from the title of this one. At any rate, please enjoy.
.***.***.***.***.
The illegitimate supreme leader paced the officers' walk like a caged animal. Made helmetless by his own childish destruction, there was nothing to hide the wild look in his eyes. Especially as they snapped towards the door, waiting to glare at General Hux as he entered.
General Hux stepped onto the bridge of the Finalizer for the first time in months. Much to his chagrin, he found Kylo Ren standing in what should have been his spot.
Driven through his days by desperation and spite, Hux didn't mind the predatory air that hung around Ren.
"You're supposed to be on Mon Cala," the dark lord flatly told the general.
Hux hadn't asked anyone's permission to leave the ocean planet. But he hadn't been given an official amount of time that he was supposed to be stationed there either.
Though he knew that he didn't have Snoke's favor to protect him anymore, Hux was just as catty as he had always been with his reply, "I decided otherwise."
"You don't have that authority, Hux." Ren calling him by name without rank rankled at the general, "You go where I tell you, and you do what I say."
A slight shuffle of unease rippled through the crew, both men noticed but neither bothered to comment. The bridge crew had seen the two come to blows before, but Snoke had always been there to settle their petty squabbles. Without the moderating old man, they weren't sure that Kylo Ren could be convinced to leave Hux alive.
The general was acutely aware that he was outmatched in every way. The knowledge didn't do a thing to make him more cautious, in actuality it gave him even more of a reason to act with reckless abandon. He had already lost everything else, the rank and power he had amassed over years meant nothing. Everything he was beyond that had been ripped away in a lightspeed attack.
What did staying alive even mean at this point?
Why shouldn't he finally give Kylo Ren a piece of his mind? No one else would tell the idiot in charge exactly how bad of a job he had done up to this point.
"On the contrary," he began. When he did, the crew visibly shirked away from the conversation. Ren stood a little taller at the challenge, already wildly insecure about his grasp on power, he wasn't about to let the insubordinate general talk back in front of the crew, "I'll be deciding where I go, and I'm clearly needed here."
Ren didn't spare any words as the air grew heavy on the bridge. Having seen Ren throw a fit before, Hux braced himself but didn't flinch as a phantom pressure traced across his neck.
Hux knew that his next words weren't wise, "Really? I thought you were our unflappable leader now?"
With that, Hux suddenly couldn't breathe. He'd been expecting the familiar sensation, but it still came as a terrifying shock. Made fragile by the loss of air, standing was a challenge that Hux was only just able to meet.
Ren stood on the other side of the bridge, unmoved from his position. Hand reaching forward, his fingers gripped at nothing before curling into a fist.
Under the deepened pressure, Hux felt his pulse thundering against the side of his neck, the blood no longer free to flow to his head. Whatever bravado he'd felt before quickly disappeared under the threat of death.
He hated Ren, more so than anything else in the galaxy. He despised every breath he'd taken since the attack on the Supremacy, but his cowardice won out in the end. Shaking. On the verge of slipping out of consciousness, he desperately clawed at his neck. Knowing full well that this would do nothing, a few choked sounds managed to escape his crushed throat.
His vision swirled, and he thought that this might be the end. Life had become hell, a waking nightmare that didn't seem to end.
As much as he thought that he wanted it all to end, being faced with oblivion filled him with a primal fear.
Fear that didn't disappear as he hit the ground, the crushing weight disappearing from around his neck.
Confused and gasping for air but still failing to bring any in, some other force kept him from standing once again.
A terrible pressure, this one coming from somewhere in the back of his head, kept the general on the ground. He didn't try to croak out a word, too aware that Ren was seconds away from killing him. With the quickly eroding remains of his willpower, Hux lifted his head from the ground.
Ren stood frozen in place, expression unrestrained and somehow still unreadable, different from the fury he'd shown towards Hux just a second ago.
There wasn't time for Hux to wonder before the pressure in his head turned to a sudden and searing pain.
.***.***.***.***.
A jolt of excitement suddenly cut through the jungle clearing. As the Millennium Falcon circled around and then smoothly descended onto a partially overgrown landing pad, the Resistance gathered to greet it's long absent members.
The loading ramp let out a familiar hiss as it began to lower. Pockets of excited chatter came from the clearing.
The sudden excitement had caught Ardis' attention as well. Putting to use a skill that she had just learned, she sat up and then pulled at the nearest and smallest boxes before stubbornly pushing herself into an unsteady standing position. Still unable to walk, or to support herself fully, the little girl rested most of her weight on the top of the nearest box.
Lori had made a half start towards the newly landed ship, only to stall as she noticed that the rest of the camp was completely distracted. Quickly weighing her options, Lori took a small step back towards Ardis and the main camp.
She wasn't sure how long their new arrivals would remain the perfect distraction.
Glancing at Ardis, Lori found the infant peeking above the ring of boxes. Hit again with the painful knowledge that the little girl was quickly growing into a curious toddler, Lori hoped that she wouldn't make a noise that might attract unwanted attention.
Hoping for the best, Lori quietly made for the jerry-rigged communications array.
"Mwa?" Ardis let out a confused babble as Lori rushed past the play pen without picking her up.
Wincing slightly, and turning as she walked, Lori pantomimed a gesture to stay quiet.
Ardis blinked, recognizing the motion but not quite grasping its meaning.
Hoping that the infant would be content to confusedly watch her, Lori continued on her way, taking care not to be noticed by the now silent crowd. A single voice addressed the group, though Lori couldn't quite make it out as she moved further away.
Ardis remained blissfully silent as Lori came to the edge of the command area. At the far end of it was the communications terminal. Suddenly rushing in spite of herself, Lori hurried forward.
Just as she made it a few steps in, there was a quickly growing ache at the back of her head.
Pushing through the strange sensation, Lori heard a fresh bout of chatter come from the distant crowd.
Each step became difficult, her limbs suddenly feeling heavy beyond all reason. The now throbbing pain in her head felt tangible, so sharp she could nearly hear it.
Knees buckling, Lori fought a losing battle not to drop to the ground. The pressure in her head grew more and more until it felt as if she were on the verge of being crushed and exploding at the same time.
The distant sound of the excited rebels had turned into a mass of groaning, punctuated by the occasional shout.
Lori reached a shaking hand to the side of her head, like that would do something to block the not-sound that had ground her thoughts to a halt. She found herself on the floor instead, thin blades of grass cutting through her view of the camp.
The shouting dwindled into silence, and not even the wind seemed to move.
So paralyzed by this invisible thing, Lori wasn't even sure if she was still breathing through the pain.
Then, from nowhere and everywhere, there came a voice.
.***.***.***.***.
The laughter of a long gone but never forgotten evil echoed through the stars. Wrapping its terrible grasp around the mind of every sentient being in the galaxy, The Emperor spoke to his wayward subjects with a voice like that of the grave that plunged into the hearts of all that it reached.
"It's been so long, my dear galaxy. Have you forgotten your emperor so soon? Only a single generation has passed, and you think that you have escaped me? Such a pitiful thing as death could not keep me from my destiny. It could not keep you from my revenge.
"I've left you to your own devices for too long, and you have devolved into rabid squabbles. You have grown weak, and you must be sacrificed for my empire reborn.
"Prepare for my arrival, my dear galaxy, and beg for my mercy."
The Emperor's final word of warning dissolved into his mirthless laughter; that joyless sound, so often birthed from misery.
After a second that stretched into eternity, that hideous echo faded into oblivion as well.
.***.***.***.***.
The head splitting pain that bloomed across General Hux's mind washed away like a receding tidal wave, ruined ideas and carelessly strewn about thoughts left in its wake. A bead of sweat ran down the side of his head, and he could only just raise his head.
The sudden paralyzing fear brought on by the ordeal gave way to a confusion that was only dispelled by painful experience.
After years of being subjected to Ren's abuses, he wasn't completely familiar with the feeling of some force sensitive crawling through his head, but that had been many leagues worse than anything Ren could manage.
The supreme leader himself had only barely remained standing, legs shakily unlocking themselves from being braced against the psychic assault.
Hux made it back to his feet just as the content of the message made an impact on the tiny section of his mind that wasn't reeling.
Emperor Palpatine.
Hux hadn't been old enough to remember hearing that voice first hand, but he had seen thousands of archived holograms from the empire. The emperor's words had been a mainstay of his education, and the old man's voice was more familiar than his own father's.
And it was just as terrifying.
Shaking away the lingering fear left the general with an overwhelming rage.
Beg for mercy? Hux focused on the dead man's demand, be sacrificed to his empire reborn? Who even-? Palpatine has been dead for decades.
"Was this your doing?" Hux's question came out as an accusation aimed at Ren.
The supreme leader shook a haunted expression from his features, only to replace it with one of grim determination, "Contact my knights."
"You didn't answer my-!"
A sudden and completely unsurprising pressure coiled around Hux's neck. Along with that, he was lifted until only the tips of his toes brushed the ground as he was dragged forward.
"My knights, Hux."
The general was left to gasp as his skin turned red and the edges of his vision began to darken.
Too distracted by the occasion to finally kill the general, and expecting him to carry out an order besides, Ren let the man crumble into a gasping heap on the ground.
Hux didn't recover from that assault until after Kylo Ren had sulked away from the bridge. When he stood for the second time, he found that his crew had only just begun to recover.
He gave them a moment to collect themselves. Not out of pity or understanding, but so that he could have a time for himself to curse the circumstances.
Emperor Palpatine, returned from the dead.
I shouldn't even be surprised. The very laws of the galaxy seemed to bend to the will of a petulant child, why wouldn't they warp themselves at the behest of a ghost as well.
The Force. Not a good thing has ever come of it. Not of these fanatical cults, not of these foolishly powerful bloodlines, and not of the Empire. It was an idiotic endeavor that ended twenty years after it began, the only good thing the Empire ever spawned was the First Order.
Half of the crew had regained their footing and their senses, Hux was still fuming.
The Empire was corrupt. Wasteful. And so fervently obsessed with their dear leader that they crumbled the second the old bastard died. Ren may be a curse, but the First Order is well managed enough that even having an idiot in charge isn't enough to ruin it.
All but a few of the officers had made it back to their stations.
Or at least it was well managed. Ren has done his damnedest to dismantle everything that I've done for the Order, hasn't he? The rabid dog is probably going to run off in search of Palpatine, isn't he? Even the most defiant hound craves a master, and he does have such a penchant for aged sorcerers.
Such an idiot. A fool. A shadow of the man he thinks he is, though he won't ever admit it. Especially not to himself.
The last of the stragglers had either recovered or had been hoisted into their seats by crew members that feared retribution from General Hux.
They had all seen him angry before, it was an occurrence as sure at the passage of time. They expected a shout, or a purposefully petty comment, or some wanton cruelty that only served to satisfy some desperate need for control.
None of them expected the reserved comment they got, "You've already heard your orders. Contact the knights."
None of them heard how tired he was.