The Patron Saint of Lost Causes
Chapter 2
Hux kept to the shadows, ducking into alcoves along the way, pressing himself against cold steel as troopers jogged past his hiding spot. He stuffed his fist into his mouth to keep from coughing, every inhale causing a burn in the lower part of his chest. Bringing away his fingers, gloves now long forgotten, he saw they were flecked with blood.
A cold seized in the pit of his stomach.
If he didn't get medical attention he was going to die. Be it internal injury via blunt force trauma, or slow infection via the wound in his thigh, neither option added to the probability of him surviving.
Urgency took priority over safety. Rather than creeping, he near-sprinted the rest of the way, trying to ignore the pain that had wrapped itself around his thigh; how every time his foot connected with the floor, the agony nearly made him stumble.
He tried to block it out. Focus on his next plan.
They were docked above Kijimi. If they hadn't locked out his Officer's code, he could clear the immediate space around the ship and maybe make it down to the surface. Hopefully before the bridge even noticed the escape pod being released. There, he could figure out his next move.
Perhaps his luck was better than he thought. He met no one on his mad dash toward the bay of escape craft. When he ultimately stumbled through the hanger door and closed it behind him, his body finally allowed the pain to catch up with him. He stumbled, knees connecting hard with the ground, a desperate, teeth-clenched whine of pain wrenching free of his chest.
The sound of it startled him, echoing around the hanger. He looked around wildly to see if anyone noticed, sucking in small sups of air to lessen the need for excessive noise. After a quiet moment, he tried to stand, but the wounded leg would not comply. He limped, dragging the weight with him, leaning his entire weight on the handrail leading up to the vertical pod conveyers marked with an Officer's symbol.
In typical fashion, one pod was pre-loaded in case of emergencies. Hux practically tumbled sideways into the open gullwing hatch, groaning as his body fell against the side of the control panel. Desperate to be free, he powered up the craft, viewfinder flickering to life. Through a haze of pain, he barely had enough time to wonder exactly why there was a new, strange Star Destroyer in the area on the screen before him, before he was strapping in and punching in the launch code. The hatch door hissed shut, mechanism jettisoning him into space. The force flung him back in his chair despite the restraints.
An alarm sounded. They'd picked up on his signature.
Damn it, he thought, struggling to input the commands to enter Kijimi's atmosphere. He had to get out of there before they—
With a light that very nearly blinded him, Kijimi itself, his best chance to slip away from the First Order unnoticed, exploded with a brilliance he hadn't seen since Starkiller.
The sheer force of the blast, along with debris and asteroid-sized rocks, rumbled toward him in a wave of energy he could not escape. The force of it knocked the small escape pod end-over-end, flinging him against the side of the craft and tossing the little ship out into open space. With the crack of his head upon the metal siding, everything went dark.
What felt like moments later, and with a splitting headache, Hux roused to a panel of blinking warning lights and the sound of a proximity alarm. Blearily, he touched the side of his head, fingers becoming sticky with partially dried blood.
"Hell," he muttered, wondering if there were any part of his body not completely broken. Trying to clamp down on the pounding in his head, he assessed the screen in front of him. No First Order ships. But then, no Kijimi either. Just a floating field of partially-vaporized chunks where Kijimi use to be.
The fools had blown up the entire planet. Lucky for him, the minefield of jettisoned rock was probably the only reason he was still alive. Too much wreckage for the computer locate the small escape pod. The fleet must have departed shortly after.
To where, he cared little.
Only one thought frightened him now. Once the Order realized he was alive, they'd come looking for him. He knew too much.
Reaching down into the fold of his boot, Hux extracted his last, most desperate option. A small datachip, barely larger than his thumbnail. Inserting it into the dash, the signal began transmitting automatically. While he waited for a response, he steered the pod out of immediate danger, the proximity alarm going mercifully silent. He leaned back in his chair, trying to catch his breath.
. . . . . . 🀫
. . . . . . 🀫
Incoming transmission; code .2.5.8.. 🀫
Amid the organized chaos on the bridge of their Resistance ship, Rose saw Connix flagging her down from the other side of the command deck. They were in the midst of coordinating an attack on the Star Destroyers' turbolasers, but Connix shouldn't have needed Rose's input for that.
Rose jogged over. "What is it?" She asked breathlessly.
"Look!" The woman pointed to the screen, where a small incoming message blinked with promise.
Rose's lips parted in surprise. "One-three-one-seven… it can't be. They're alive?"
"You better reply with your code. Here," Connix gave her the chair, Rose sinking into it with a huff of disbelief.
Greedy for information, she accepted the incoming connection with her secret number sequence, one the spy would recognize instantly as their handler's.
Datalink connection complete..🀫
With flying fingers, Rose began typing
We haven't heard a word for days! We thought you were dead.. 🀫
"Hold on," Connix leaned over just as Rose hit the command/send key. "Should we have waited until we knew it was really them?"
Rose bit her lip in worry as the reply came through.
The fools tried, of course. Gross misjudgment of my commitment to, specifically, not dying.. 🀫
Rose snorted. "It's him." She'd recognize that style of writing in any text chain.
Are you still onboard your ship? She typed back. Can you get somewhere safe?.. 🀫
Hux snorted, grimacing with pain. If they only knew.
Consigned to an escape pod, regretfully, he wrote. No provisions or destination. I have information that could yet prove useful to you. I'm willing to trade for safety.. 🀫
Rose glanced up at Connix.
"Why do we need him now?" The blonde scoffed. "Look outside, we're crushing them."
"Yeah, but…" Rose pressed her lips together. "They stuck their neck out for us. Plus, the First Order's invasion force might be gone, but the larger organization is still in operation. Insider information could help us root out the First Order going forward."
Explosions outside the ship splashed an orange and yellow glow upon the side of Connix's face, twisted in hesitation.
"Leia would want us to save everyone we could," Rose pressed, voice soft and even in its solemnity.
"The quickest would be to send him the coordinates to Ajan Kloss. Could be dangerous though. What if they arrive with a whole battalion ready to wipe us out?"
Rose shook her head. "I don't know, but… I get the feeling they're on the run for good. Why go silent for so long unless something happened?"
Connix sighed in defeat. "Do what you think is right, Rose." She laid a hand gently on the other woman's shoulder. "You've had more contact with the asset than anyone else. I trust you."
Rose smiled, giving a nod before reaching back to the computer.
I can upload coordinates to our rendezvous location, she sent, Can you make it?.. 🀫
. . . . . . 🀫
. . . . . . 🀫
. . . . . . 🀫
"They're hesitating," Connix whispered.
"Maybe they thinks they'll show up to a whole battalion waiting to blast them out of the sky," Rose muttered. "They wouldn't have survived this long without taking precautions."
Another long moment of waiting, then the reply came in.
My ship is equipped with a hyperdrive. Upload coordinates when ready.. 🀫
Connix whistled low. "They must really be desperate."
Rose's finger hovered over the command/send key. The moment she did this, let the spy know of their base's location, that would be it. Someone, who'd once aligned themselves with the enemy, would know exactly where to find them. Where to kill them. And it would be her fault. All her fault.
But then… what if the spy was like Finn? Groomed since birth, trapped with nowhere to go until the right opportunity presented itself? Shouldn't she believe they were all capable of change?
Rose swallowed, chalked it all up to gut feeling, and pressed the send key.
Aboard the escape pod, the display lit up with the Resistance fighter's final message: a code containing the appropriate coordinates. The screen bloomed with condensation, Hux pitched forward and breathing heavily from stiffness and pain. Concentrating on reading and typing out the messages had sapped his remaining strength. He was trying desperately to remain focused enough to confirm the craft's destination, but it was all getting to be a bit fuzzy around the edges of his vision.
Giving himself to the Resistance's mercy might be death sentence in and of itself, he conceded. One look and they'd know exactly who he was and what he'd done. At least, he thought, if they killed him, a blaster to the brain would be quicker than running out of air adrift in space.
Hux input the navigational marks into the ship's systems, engaging the autopilot command before relaxing into the restraints, struggling to remain awake.
The sheer sound of it was overwhelming.
Like the roar of afterburners in a canyon's echo.
Only it wasn't rocket fuel, it was the voices of victors, hundreds of them, ringing through the trees of Ajan Kloss so thoroughly that the birds in the forest's canopy took flight.
Rose, pinned in a group hug, sobbed into Rey's shoulder as the pair, crushed together with Finn and Poe, hollered with unbridled triumph. It was pure, happy chaos. It had all been worth it. All the loss— her parents, her planet, Paige— it wasn't for nothing. The First Order's fleet had been taken down. All that was left was to regroup and begin the cleanup effort.
"You're not leaving right away, are you?" Rose asked, holding Rey's arms tight, even as she leaned back to look at her. "You'll stay for a few days, right?"
The other woman chuckled softly, an oddly far-off, serene expression on her face. "I'll stay for a few days. I promise."
Soon, it was evening time, but the festivities looked have no plan in ceasing. Huge bonfires had been lit in the clearings, dots of flame spanning out from the command center.
Rose walked back from the makeshift bar with a tin can of liquid; crates of something foreign and aggressively alcoholic conjured up from somewhere, no questions asked.
The sky was still bathed in sunset, and to Rose, it was all so dreamlike.
Was this real? Had they really succeeded?
Around the fire, she saw Poe and Finn side-by-side. Finn was explaining, in great detail and with exaggerated hand movements, the assault he'd led while Poe had been airborne. The other man was smiling, but he wasn't looking at Finn's antics. His eyes were locked on the other's face. It was enough for Rose to look away quickly, like she'd caught something private. Maybe Finn didn't know yet, she thought, taking a seat on an upturned crate. Poe was absolutely, incurably smitten.
Rey had wandered off to meditate. It sounded lonely, especially with such revelry all around them, but Rose wasn't going to press the issue. From what little she'd gathered from Finn earlier, it was more than a bit traumatic for all of them, most of all Rey.
Across the fire, Rose spotted Connix. The pair saluted each other with their cups of victory poison.
"Hey," Poe's voice cut across the fire circle, note of unease pulling everyone's attention. "Does anyone… hear that?"
Over the crackling fire, Rose strained her ears.
It was coming from the command terminal a few yards away; computer banks all but forgotten amidst the revelry.
It was like… a beeping.
A beeping that was slowly growing in cadence.
Like something drawing closer on the radar.
Over the fire, Rose and Connix's eyes locked.
"Oh shit," she saw Connix mouth.
Both women bolted to their feet, racing back under the base's overhang, ignoring Poe's calls for clarity at what the hell was happening.
"Uh, everything's under control! It's fine!" Connix yelled over her shoulder.
Rose was way ahead of her, skidding to a stop in front of the computer. On the map display, a small, barely-remarkable blip had come out of warp and into the planet's upper atmosphere.
"I can't believe we forgot," she moaned in despair, fingers whizzing over the keyboard. She was so nervous, and admittedly a little tipsy, that she kept messing up the spy's access code. "Oh, screw it," she pulled the intercom toward her instead, broadcasting on their open channel. "Come in, come in, this Rose Tico from the Resistance Base on Ajan Kloss. Code five-five-seven-three-six-nine-five. Come in, come in!"
Lifting her finger from the radio, all that came back was static.
"The autopilots engaged," Connix called from the map controls. "If they don't take control of the thrusters, it's going to be one hell of a bumpy stop when they hit the ground. They'll survive but…yeesh."
Looking back, Rose's heart flipped in her chest. She had to try again.
"This is Rose Tico to the unidentified craft entering Resistance space, come in!"
Static again.
"What if they're unconscious?" Rose whispered to herself. "Hey, are you able to see where they're going to land?"
Connix mapped out the trajectory, little dotted lines indicating an impact site not too far from base.
"There," the blonde pointed.
"O-kay. Anyone want to tell me just what the hell is going on in here?"
Both women looked up to see Poe, closely followed by Finn, entering from the direction of the bonfire.
Connix glanced at Rose, who was holding Poe's gaze furiously.
"Either one," Poe lifted a hand. "Go right ahead. I'm listening."
Before Rose could open her mouth in a thin attempt at obfuscation, a light blazed in the sky, like a little meteor streaking towards them.
"The heck is that?" Finn walked a few paces back outside, squinting up at the sky, the escape pod's emergency thrusters engaging with a blaze of white light out the nose of the craft.
Taking advantage of the confusion, Rose slipped past, weaving between crates and celebrating gaggles whose attentions were now turned towards the sky.
"Hey!
"Rose!"
"Come back!"
Their words echoed after her as she rushed toward the tree line and away from camp.
"Where is she going?" Back at headquarters, Poe gave Connix one of his non-nonsense looks.
The blonde woman looked sheepish. "Well, we got a message from that First Order spy we've been in contact with. We think he was trying to defect for good, so Rose gave him the…" She trailed off, seeing the look of sheer terror the two men shared. "Wait, what am I miss— Hey! Hey!" Connix watched as they bolted away after Rose, hot on her heels, just as the telltale rumbling of a ship making its crash-landing rattled the communications equipment.
It felt like he was swimming up from below dark, deep depths, cold waters threatening to drown him.
You weak-willed boy…
A voice.
Such a disappointment.
The sharp crack of an object against the side of his head. Pain blooming like a thunderbolt, erupting stars in front of his eyes. Stars like the vastness of space… no, like lights on a dashboard.
Hux blinked blearily, coming to consciousness like he were clawing his way up from a sluggish sleep that wanted to sink its teeth in and never let go. Once again, it felt like he couldn't breathe, the ship's harness a suffocating weight into which he was slung forward. With trembling fingers, he unhooked the restraints, but the craft's resting orientation sent him tumbling toward the nose of the pod, yelping in pain.
He was on fire, fatigue and infection beginning to seep in, setting him to tremble. Was that it, then? He was going to die like this? Determination and preservation roared to life, licking hotter than the blazing pain in his leg or the seizing agony in his chest.
He need air; fresh air.
Fumbling for the hatch's emergency lever, he whimpered, the strain of pressing the handle down nearly robbing him of his last ounce of strength.
A breeze, blissfully cool, rushed into the escape craft as the door hissed, hinging backward onto the ground.
"Rose!"
"Come back, Rose! You don't know what you're doing!"
Oh she didn't, did she? Just like she didn't know enough to accompany them on their missions? No, she thought, tearing through the undergrowth, she had spent time developing their First Order asset. There'd been trust built. Tenuous, as to be expected, but real. She knew things.
Knew he was born on some rainy planet; hardly ever saw sun as a child.
Knew he'd been drafted into the First Order young.
Knew he had a cat. Mills. Or Millie. Something like that.
She wasn't wrong about this. This was the right thing to do.
Above the treetops, she could see curling smoke rising from the pod's crash site. She was just about to clear the trees too, before a hand gripped her by the arm and wrenched her backwards, causing her to stumble into Finn's chest.
"Hey!" She yelped.
"What are you thinking?!" He looked furious. And maybe he was right; maybe she should have told him and Poe her plans. But everything had happened so fast—the transmission, the battle, the celebration—it was all so blurred together.
Then she noticed he was holding a blaster in his other hand.
"Wh- what are you doing?"
"The spy?!" Finn shouted, incredulous, as Poe broke through the trees behind him.
"Yeah!" Rose wrestled her arm back. "It was good information! They deserve our protection for all the help they've given us! They said they could give us more. Wait!" Panic spiked in her voice as she watched Poe move around her, his own blaster drawn, out into the clearing. She stalked after, despite Finn's attempts to hold her back. They all exited out of the tree line to see the craft still smoking, its hatch door popped open and lying upon the ground.
Poe slowed, training his blaster on the dark cockpit.
"Alright, you bastard!" He called into the rapidly dimming evening. "You're going to come out very, very slowly. No funny business and I promise not to blow your pasty little head off."
Rose's brows pulled in confusion.
"When we were on the Steadfast," Finn muttered, seeing her expression, "we met the spy."
"You did?"
"Yeah… we did."
A thin, labored laugh drifted out from the cockpit, making the hair on the back of Rose's neck stand on end.
"I am yet… unconvinced of your assurance not to shoot me. Try again."
Rose took a step forward almost unconsciously. "This… it's got to be some mistake."
"I swear to god, Hux, you're such a damn pain in the ass." With speed that could only be bolstered by rage, Poe's hand and arm shot into the cockpit, his weapon still trained toward his quarry. Rose watched with disbelief as a bloody and battered Armitage Hux was dragged forth from the escape pod and unceremoniously dumped into the dirt.
An ice-cold feeling dropped into Rose's stomach.
"You little prick." Poe kicked the man onto his back with his boot, sinking his knee onto the smaller man's chest.
The cold despair turned to white hot rage as the disgraced General's agonized scream of pain pierced the evening, Poe's knee crushing into his ribs
"Stop it!" Rose called, emotion welling in the back of her throat.
Poe didn't seem to hear "You going to tell us what the hell you're doing here?" He pressed his blaster to Hux's neck.
Through grit teeth, the beleaguered man practically spit, "I'll only speak to my contact."
Rose shook her head. "No… no way."
"Wouldn't you like to hear my," Hux yelped as Poe dug his knee in harder, breaking off the cry with a shuttering moan. "…m-my identification code?"
"Oh, I would love to hear your identification code."
"One-three-one-seven-two-five-eight."
All eyes swiveled to Rose, who had quietly spoken before Hux could do so. The redhead, splayed upon the ground under Poe's weight, looked confused for a moment, gaze unfocused on Rose as she took a few steps closer. Once he was able to see her clearly though, a brittle realization came over his face
"Y-you!"
"Yeah," Rose said, disappointment and anger plain in her tone. "Me. Five-five-seven-three-six-nine-five. Your contact. Nice to see you again, General Hux."
I've written more in the last ten days then in the last ten months. What is this ship? Magic?
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