The Patron Saint of Lost Causes
Chapter 7
"Death won't take you, Armitage. I won't let it." A fierce determination overtook her; a bewitching thing to behold. "You're mine."
At that moment, he forgot she always seemed so petite. Instead, she was a towering force of presence that completely blew him away. She filled his vision, and the look on her face was something reminiscent of the all-consuming commands he knew too well— from Snoke, Ren, his father. Except, her authority didn't promise any pain.
What was left?
"You're going to help rebuild what you tore apart. Do we understand each other?" The authority in her voice made him shiver; burning him from the inside out.
There she was, talking about redemption. About his being more. As if he could be more.
And for a brief, dangerous moment, he wanted to believe her.
For a brief, dangerous moment, he did.
"Yes," he replied without an ounce of hesitation. He'd say anything if she kept looking at him like that. Like he was worth a damn.
Rose withdrew to stand. "Good." She felt hot and cold all over. It wasn't bad, just… intense. "We should… finish up. Help me around this stupid firewall." He nodded slowly, like he was trying to concentrate very hard. He used the side of the craft to get back onto his feet.
She didn't know if he was still staring at her like he was; Rose avoided glancing in his direction until he moved around her towards the cockpit. She wasn't sure exactly what would have happened if she hadn't broken the moment, but all her immediate thoughts were pretty embarrassing.
She believed what she'd said though, about his living with what he'd done. She'd help him. She had to. She'd let herself get too invested to let it all go now.
She heard Hux's voice from the cockpit, slow and soft. "Am I supposed to do your job for you, or are you going to come help me with this?" A shiver ran up and down her spine. If that look in his eyes had a sound…
"Yeah," Rose said with forced nonchalance, pulling herself together to look over his shoulder. "Are you logged in?"
Hux nodded as the First Order holonet blinked open before them. For some reason he seemed… different, even in profile. Like some of his harsh angles had been smoothed over. For now, anyway.
Rose wasn't so naïve to think he'd just roll over after one confrontation. He'd be balking every step of the way. She hoped, at least, that she'd be able to dispel his silly notion of giving up on life to escape his feelings. No way was that going to fly.
As he navigated through the complex interlinked networks, Rose pointed to each file she wanted him to drag onto the datapad. They filled up the memory with as much intel as the unit would allow
"This is a great find," Rose said, taking the datapad back from Hux, stepping out of the way so he could exit back onto the ground. She made a mental note to tell Finn and Poe that the pod itself should be brought back to base. There was still plenty tech inside that could be useful to them. Hux was staring off into the middle distance as he stepped down beside her. "What's up?"
He pressed his lips together. "Thank you." He didn't say for what, but she knew.
"Don't mention it," she said with a small smile. The intensity of that whole moment had finally worn off, and she felt a bit exhausted. "I can't, uh, leave my assistant hanging, can I?"
"Your assistant?" He made an effort of straightening his clothes like it were his old uniform. It was kind of hilarious, Rose thought, since he couldn't move his arms independently.
Rose shrugged. "Yeah, why not? What would that make you? Like, my Lieutenant?"
He stared at her for a long moment before a slow smirk pulled at the corner of his mouth. "I believe the appropriate rank would be Colonel, but I think your commanding officers would be less than inclined to conscript me, seeing as I'm technically still your prisoner."
Rose waved the datapad dismissively, closing up the escape pod's hatch. "Unofficial Colonel. How about that?"
When she turned back around, she noticed a certain glint in his eyes. "After being within spitting distance of Grand Marshall?" He mused. "Can't say I'm all that pleased, no."
"Could just demote you instead." She side-eyed him as she walked past, back towards base.
"That would be impressive, since once again I have no rank."
"By all means, keep it up, Cadet."
She could hear his small huff of amusement as he followed behind her, back into the thicket of trees.
This was poor timing, Rose thought, as they exited the foliage along the edge of the camp. The lunch rush was obviously over, and Resistance members moved about the base, working on damaged ships, gathering together supplies for inventory, and carrying out a variety of other duties.
Hux took note of the significant uptick in potential confrontation as he stepped out beside her.
"Take out your blaster," he muttered, as if he were trying to speak while not moving his mouth very much.
She looked around at him. "Why?"
"So it actually looks like your escorting a prisoner, obviously."
"I thought we decided I wasn't going to need to shoot you."
He rolled his eyes skyward. "It's for appearance."
Rose hummed, "No, I don't think so," and grabbed him by the arm again, steering him clear across the camp's main pitch. She had important data to pass along to the others, and she hadn't stumbled across it on her own. She wasn't going to pretend that she'd forced it out of Hux. If he was being cooperative then he deserved credit for it, too.
It didn't seem like he shared her enthusiasm.
"This is extremely ill advised," he hissed, falling in line. He matched her quick strides with practiced ease despite his reservations, walking with the haughty air one could only perfect with years of Officer's training.
He could feel the stares, but they wouldn't make him cower
Even Rose could feel it, the tension that followed them like a wave as they crossed from one side of the common to the other. Not that she could blame them, none of them have been spared the corrosive touch of the First Order under Hux's leadership. She just wasn't really sure how many members of the Resistance subscribed to Leia's teachings on benevolence.
Well, she thought with a strange stab of defiance, like it was her they were glaring at, Hux had given them all that insider information. He was the reason they knew Palpatine was on Exegol in the first place. It didn't absolve him of anything, but it had been one of the few right choices he'd made, and it had helped their cause immensely.
"We've got a fair number of fighters with working ships, but we still don't know which sectors to send them to first." Poe was telling D'Acy and Finn across a large holodesk, over which floated bits of the Unknown Regions, parts of maps they'd so far accumulated and stitched together.
"This should help." Rose set the datapad down on the edge of the table.
The three turned to look at them.
Finn seemed to realize she wasn't alone after a moment's confusion, like he wasn't sure who it was standing next to her, and settled eventually on glaring in Hux's general direction. D'Acy looked less than amused but not at all surprised.
Poe groaned, bracing his hip against the table. "Do I even want to know?"
Hux's lips pressed into a thin line, standing with as much ridged attention as he could muster with his hands cuffed in front of him. The look of pure loathing he was exacting on Poe was so palpable, Rose swore she felt the chill of it radiating onto her.
Poe seemed to sense it too, finally acknowledging Hux, the first time the pair had seen each other since their poorly-resolved meeting in Hux's cell. With faux cheer he quipped, "Oh! Hugs! Didn't see you there! How are ya doin', buddy?"
"Alive," Hux said tensely. "To your immense disappointment, I'm sure."
Poe squinted with a terse smile. "Great. That's great. Hey, Rose, not that I'm questioning your methods here or anything," he said in a tone clearly questioning her methods, "but why exactly is he just," he made a gesture, "walking around?"
"Hux helped me with the escape pod terminal, so I didn't have to spend half a day trying to backdoor my way onto the First Order holonet."
Finn looked incredulous. "You took him out all by yourself?"
Hux angled to give her an 'I told you so' look.
"He's cuffed!" She pointed out, clearly affronted at the suggestion that she hadn't thought things through. He'd given her a scare there for a moment, but it had turned out fine.
Poe pinched the bridge of his nose. "Alright, fine. Just, fine. What did you two come up with?"
Rose woke the holopad and flicked the open file onto the desk. The map unfolded between them, suspended, pale blue contours of the star systems speckled with red. "Whatever transmissions, sent or received from any ship with a First Order signature, have been pinged with a red dot."
Finn frowned, scrutinizing the data. "They're pretty well spready out."
"Right. Except for these two major groups," Rose said, pointing. She used the holodesk to zoom in on the smaller, but still sizeable, first of the two reddest spots, "This one is the First Order's main shipyards in Fondor. It's become the focal point for a lot of activity. No Destroyers, but we think there's a small contingency of high-ranking Officers and a few squadrons of fighters that have holed up there for the time being."
Hux glanced in her direction.
We think, hm?
"The other," she went on, "is a cluster of factions that have banded together near this planet, Brysis, in the Unknown Regions." The map zoomed out, panned, and zoomed back in again. "From their ion signatures, we think this group's amassed two Resurgent-class Star Destroyers, and one Dreadnought."
Poe looked up into the map, face illuminated with a red glow. "That'll be the largest threat, by far."
Rose nodded. "The other areas we think are light-starships and some squadrons of TIE fighters, but they're pretty much scattered. Easy to pick off."
"This is great," Finn exclaimed. "We could attack the shipyard first and take out their ability to re-constitute their fleet. We have enough fighters ready to go," he said to Poe. "We can take the Falcon."
Poe rubbed his chin. "That'll give the rest of our pilots time to prepare for the bigger assault."
"Sounds like we have a plan." D'Acy folded her arms, looking satisfied. "Well done." She smiled at Rose, then peered over at Hux, who's eyes had become rather unfocused as he stared at the map. "Both of you." Hux glanced her way with a twitch pulling at his lips, like he was actively trying not to sneer. If anything, D'Acy found that even more amusing. "I don't see why we can't reward good behavior. Any ideas?"
Rose thought for a moment. "He could start taking meals in the canteen."
Hux and Poe both blanched.
"Are you insa-
-solutely not."
Finn snorted. "At least they can agree on something."
"I don't think it's a smart idea to release him into the mercy of the general population just yet." D'Acy gave Rose an apologetic look, turning to Hux. "Maybe something a bit more manageable?"
"Out of all the things you could have asked for and this is what you come up with?" Her voice echoed all around the fresher. "A shave?"
"I don't need to be thrown a bone like some kind of dog," Hux said matter-of-factly, tossing the small towel that Rose had given him over his shoulder.
She was sitting backwards on the nearest chair, chin propped up in one hand and blaster hanging lazily from the other; more habit than precaution at this point. "Yeah, but I could think of a whole lot of more interesting requests than this."
Hux hummed, flicking the flat razor down into the sink. He used the less-than-ideal soap, dragging the blade over the plains of his face with practiced precision. He could feel her watching him, following along with the arc of his hand as he moved. He took extra care on the sideburns, making sure the lines were crisp.
When he was done, Hux sighed in a rare moment of pleasurable contentment, running a hand over the smooth skin of his face and rinsing the blade under the tap, checking himself in the cracked and peeling mirror.
There.
He looked like himself again. Save for lack of pomade, of course.
"Better?" She asked from a few feet away.
"Quite," he smiled, regarding the blade after he'd rinsed and dried it on the towel, eventually folding it back in on itself. "Why am I not surprised you were only able to round up one of these ancient models, instead of a sonic shaver?"
"Why am I not surprised you know how to use one of those ancient models, instead of a sonic shaver?"
He glanced at her out of the corer of his eye before turning, "Touché," and took the necessary steps toward her, holding out the now sheathed blade.
"Finn and Poe had a fit about this, you should know," she said, taking the razor from him with a pointed flourish. "I had to talk them down off a proverbial ledge."
"Good," he quipped smugly. "I like keeping the traitor and his pilot on their toes."
She narrowed her eyes. "Finn isn't a traitor any more than you are, so you should probably start calling him by his preferred name." Rose stored the razor back in her pocket, giving him an appraising look.
He could nearly feel it; the way her gaze roamed over his face. He wondered, absently, if she approved. Or did he now reminded her of when they'd first met? Hux straightened up, squaring his shoulders.
"Old habits," he muttered, noticing how she cut her eyes away.
Silence descended between them, tense for a moment.
"So…" Rose's mouth twisted to the side. "Are we going to talk about what happened today? Or are we just going to pretend that it never happened at all?"
He frowned. "I'd prefer the latter, but I'm beginning to suspect that I have little choice in the matter." He'd had a moment of weakness, a moment of uncontrollable panic. Even now, thinking about it filled him with shame. What did she want? For him to relive it indefinitely?
Rose tapped a finger on the side of her blaster with impatience. "Just because the Order's gone doesn't mean you have to go with it. You know that, right? You're allowed to live for something else."
He stared at her very hard. She actually cared about his feelings on this, and he couldn't understand why. "While there was always the potential for the Order to fail, I never thought I'd live long enough to contemplate the aftermath."
"Well, congratulations. You've lived long enough. And now you're going to keep on living, just like the rest of us."
My, aren't I lucky, Hux thought dryly.
She was being overly optimistic again, and it made him angry. He wanted to hurt her; stamp out that flicker of hope in her eyes.
"You should know, before you continue with your misguided charity, that I intended to double-cross you."
"Huh?" Rose breathed in surprise.
"In the beginning, when I first arrived. Before I knew how truly broken the fleet had become. I thought I could help you whittle down the Order into something worth salvaging."
"And you're telling me now? Why?"
"For some unfathomable reason, you seem to have placed a level of trust in me I do not deserve. I'm just trying to dispel you of your delusions."
Oh, Rose didn't believe that for a second. She pointed a finger at him. "You're apologizing."
He bristled.
"I am simply informing you of my plans," he said firmly.
"Oh yeah, that's exactly what you're supposed to do; tell me your stupid secret plans to escape. Are you even listening to yourself right now?" He stared at her, pinned to the spot. "You've got a real shit opinion of yourself Hux, you know that?" His jaw clenched tight. "You try so hard to convince yourself you're this unfeeling machine but you've not. You're human. And you're allowed to be better."
"And what if I don't want to 'be better'?" He sneered.
"Then you would have bashed me over the head and ran today! Or stabbed me with the razor and escaped already! But you didn't. Because you don't want to. Because this is better than the alternative. Because you're tired."
On that, she was dead on. All the scheming and looking over his shoulder and surviving for the sake of surviving. Gritting his teeth through the pain, holding on for power, only for it to be ripped out from under him. Yes, he was tired.
You're going to help rebuild what you tore apart.
His hands curled into fists. "I don't understand what you want," he said finally, frustration bleeding into his voice. "I'm giving the Resistance all the information they need. I am helping you 'rebuild'. Why are you so persistent in understanding how I feel about it?"
"Because. It matters."
He scoffed. "To whom?!"
"To me, okay?!"
As she'd been speaking, his lip had curled gradually into a snarl, but at that last bit, it sort of… faded out.
"What you've done is monstrous," her voice was firm. "There's no accounting for how much blood is on your hands, but whoever's convinced you that you were born evil is wrong." Something in his chest constricted. "And you don't have to keep proving them right, either. You don't have to die for it all to end. You wrap yourself up in your loss and your shame and your rage, but you're allowed to feel good things, too. That's why. You—you jackass."
His confusion was so evident and pained that it actually took Rose by surprise; confirmed her worst fears. Armitage Hux had been denied anyone ever giving a shit about how he felt about anything other than how to turn him into this. Whatever this was.
Rose stood, making her way over to him.
"You're such a mess," he heard her say as she walked up, now dangerously close. Hux took a step back, bumping into the edge of the sink, trapping himself.
"Miss Tico…" he said in warning.
"Just— just shut up, will you?"
Before he could say another word, she was wrapping her arms around him in a tight hug, pinning his arms down at his side. He tensed, ridged; the contact electrifying, but he couldn't identify it as either welcome or repulsive. Alien— that's how it felt, because he couldn't remember the last time someone had touched him in this way. Hugged him.
He didn't deserve this, he thought miserably.
Or, maybe he did. This churning confusion and pain; the unmooring of his identity. Maybe that's what he really did deserve. Maybe that was her whole point.
After a moment, he felt some of the tension drain from him, relaxing into the warm circle of her arms just a fraction more. Somehow, it felt less like giving up then he'd expected.
While Hux's mind reeled away on itself, Rose was beginning to realize there was a massive flaw in her plan, because right now, the side of her face was pressed against his warm, solid chest. She could feel his muscle definition through the shirt on her cheek. She could hear his heart beat loud in her ears; strong and jackrabbit-fast at first. It evened a bit, his heart, and as she focused on his slowly-steadying breath it was… sort of… nice? She kind of wished he was a more willing participant though…
"Please let go of me," Hux managed, voice strangled, once he'd reached the limits of his patience.
Rose did so, stepping back. "You just looked like you needed it, okay?" She said it as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
He glared at her, but it lacked its usual sharp edge. "You're… exhausting," was all he could manage.
Rose grinned. "One of my many wonderous qualities. Now… am I going to have to walk you through the whole deal a third time? Because it's like, at least, forty-five minutes past when they start serving dinner and I'm starving." When he just stared at her, she turned to lead them out of the fresher, but paused. "Just… try not to be so hard on yourself all the time. That's all I wanted to say."
Hux bit the inside of his lip, frowning.
This woman was the most frustrating, persistent, incomprehensible creature he'd ever come into contact with. She didn't know when to stop. With his thoughts came that urge again, that streak of cruel fire. He could make her see how wrong she was, even if it hurt her. But… she'd touched him, gently, and without provocation, and he didn't immediately want to peel his skin off, so… maybe he would let her insolence slide, just this once.
But just this once.
Rose led them out into the dimly lit hallway, the fresher's lights shutting off after them. Hux watched her as they made their way back to his cell, the bun on the back of her head bouncing slightly as she walked.
The sounds of the canteen were muted, swimming in the background of her mind as Rose sat alone on one of the durasteel benches. The side of her face pressed against the cool tabletop. Thinking.
Not for the first time, Rose wished Paige was here. She could talk to Paige about anything. Troubles with her engineering work, her hopes, her fears, her heart—
Paige had been the tough one; the fighter. She would have probably just socked Hux in the mouth and walked right over him. If anything, she'd see how much suffering Rose had brought down upon herself and just laugh at her. Not cruelly, but with a knowing fondness at just how ridiculous her little sister was.
"You've got such a big heart," Paige would say, "no wonder you've gotten yourself into so much trouble." She'd ruffle Rose's hair, her helmet tucked up under one arm, on her way out the door to practice flying.
It always felt like Rose was watching her sister's back as she walked away.
She hadn't been angry at Paige for a long time, but just for a moment, Rose was mad that her sister wasn't there to hear her woes. There was guilt there, plenty of it, but anger too.
Funny, she sort of wondered what Hux would think of that…
"You. Look. Like. Shit."
Rose turned her cheek on the cool, metal tabletop, to see Connix sliding her tray down across from her, swinging her legs over the long bench seating.
"Thanks," she mumbled, cheek squished.
The woman bit into a crisp, purple fruit, talking around the mouthful, "Everything going okay?"
"Ugh."
"That good, huh?"
Rose sat up, looking down at the food on her tray, which she hadn't even touched. The nutty mashed bit was probably completely cold by now. "It's not… it's not bad. It's just… confusing sometimes. Trying to piece together what makes someone do the things they do. It's a lot." Especially when that someone was about as emotionally aware as an engine block.
"That's not your job, you know," Connix switched the fruit for a knife, cutting a sliver of the round, flat portion of protein on her plate. Her nose wrinkled with displeasure, but she ate it all the same. "All they want is actionable information. You're not required to be the guy's shoulder to cry on." Her expression darkened. "I don't understand how you do it. I'd want to wring his pasty little neck. You're a saint for sure."
Rose wasn't sure about all that. It was easy to dismiss someone like Hux as untouchably evil— she'd even felt that way to start— but once you got to know the person underneath all the pain, it was different.
Maybe that's how Rey felt. With Ben.
Rose's heart jumped.
Was she really comparing…?
Lunacy.
"It's what anyone would do," she said eventually.
Connix snorted. "Yeah right! You know Leia put you in charge of the spy for a reason, right? There's plenty of people around here with more experience than you in the field of intelligence gathering." Rose shifted uncomfortably. "I didn't mean that in a bad way, Rose. Leia knew the spy was someone really ingrained in the Order. But she knew you'd see beyond that, because you're not cruel. Even after everything you've been through, you're not as jaded as the rest of us."
"I'm gullible, you mean."
"Did I say that?" Connix set down her fork, crossing her arms over her chest. "The Resistance survives because we allow ourselves to feel. That's what Leia wanted; a movement based on love and compassion. That's who you are."
Maybe. It still sounded like Connix was saying she was she was naïve.
"Am I…" Her voice was so quiet she'd be surprised if Connix could even hear it. "In working with Hux, am I betraying Paige?"
Connix's posture softened at the wounded sound in Rose's voice, settling on a sympathetic smile. "Do you think you're doing the right thing?"
"Yes," Rose breathed, feeling the truth of those words.
Connix reached over and covered Rose's hand with hers.
"Paige fought and died so that the galaxy could be different. Be better. There's no shame in trying to help people. Besides, don't you think she'd find it hilarious?" She gave a small grin. "A real stick in the eye of the Order, huh? Turning one of their top Generals against them? Persuading him to actually help us?"
Rose snorted, shaking her head. "Probably."
"Just make sure you get a good night's sleep once in a while, alright?"
"Yeah." Rose gave her a watery smile. "I'll try."
"You wrap yourself up in your loss and your shame and your rage."
"Whoever's convinced you that you were born evil is wrong."
How dare she assume those things about him?
Lying in his bunk that night, Hux once again tried, and failed, to understand her.
Rose should hate him, and maybe she did, but her declaration that she actually cared about how he felt concerning, well, anything absolutely floored him.
"There's no accounting for how much blood is on your hands"
With a sinking feeling, he was beginning to suspect that her wearing him down had little to do with the Resistance. It was just her, wasn't it? She wasn't satisfied with his begrudging compliance. She wanted everything.
"You're going to help rebuild what you tore apart."
It was worse than those times Ren or Snoke had invaded his mind, peeled his thoughts open, because at least then he knew they were doing it, because there was pain. With her, she'd been able to infiltrate his thoughts with him barely noticing at all, because she was a soft slip into his subconscious; an unspoken promise of relief, a wanting to understand him.
"You're allowed to feel good things, too."
She wasn't content in being a passive witness to his imploding; she insisted on actively trying to strip away everything the First Order had made him.
"You don't have to keep proving them right, either."
Everything that Brendol had made him.
For, that's who she spoke of, even if she did not know it.
It wasn't that Hux was blind to how the machinations of his father had shaped his life. He knew very well that the man had wanted a perfect soldier-son, one that would live out his fantasies of rebuilding the Empire. But he'd believed the stories his father and his father's friends had told him. And if the Order failed, he should be dead right along with it. It was the natural progression of things. It's what Brendol would have wanted.
His surviving, his outliving the very thing he was specifically made to inhabit, felt like a jarring split along some predetermined timeline. It wasn't meant to happen. He was supposed to die believing in the righteousness of his cause as the ship around him exploded into dust, clenched fist upon his heart. He wasn't meant to walk free from the proverbial wreckage, grappling with what lies he'd been forced to swallow and the possibility of different truths.
It was torture. It was part of the reason he wished she'd just let him die with some semblance of dignity, even if it meant he died believed in something she thought was vile.
But no. She was kind, but she was no bleeding-heart. Her mercy came only with the command of living and growth; a slow, torturous mercy into acceptance.
Her face, staring down at him, fierce and determined that he become more because she willed it to be so.
His chest constricted with the want of it, of her, foreign and alluring.
There was a nasty voice in the back of his head, asking if he were really so weak-willed as to cling to whomever promised some semblance of affection. Of kindness.
Except… with her it didn't feel like weakness. With her it felt like an outstretched hand, promising him a chance at everything he never knew he wanted.
All he had to do was reach out
And take it.
A/n: There will be some adventuring coming in the next few chapters!
