[Hux]
"Hey, I said-" The pilot looked after Ren's departing form, a frustrated expression on his face. It was nice to know that even Ren's allies found him insufferable. The guy turned back to Hux and made a motion with his blaster. "Come on."
Hux tried to parse that small blaster motion. Was he threatening him with it? Or just indicating direction? From a stormtrooper, it would have been a threat. They would have used their elbow or maybe chin for direction. But the pilot wasn't a stormtrooper.
The guy looked at him more intently. "Come on. Let's go." Hux just stared at him. He looked familiar. The guy said, "What? Are you going to go down with the ship? I know you can talk."
Hux defaulted to outraged, mostly because he didn't know how else to act. "You don't give me orders, scum!"
The guy's eyes widened. He waited a few beats, then changed his tone to more conciliatory. "Okay. Let me try a different technique here. It's not an order. It's a request. Please don't make me have to explain to Kylo that I left you to die after everything I said to get him to save you."
"He did not sa-" Hux cut himself off. There was no other possible explanation for what Ren had done. Not only had he saved him, but Ren didn't care about it (or was no more willing to acknowledge the debt than he had been years before). Though Hux didn't miss the implication that this man, in front of him, was the one who wanted him alive.
"Please?" The guy leaned forward with a charming smile and sultry eyes that looked totally out of place for the situation.
All the air left Hux and he blurted out, "I … yes?" He shouldn't have said that. He regretted it, too, but the words had just popped out after that flustering look. They sounded weirdly hopeful and pitched upward. He wasn't supposed to sound like that. Maybe he had a soft spot for people begging that he'd never discovered because no one had ever looked at him like that. It couldn't be anything else.
"Good," the guy said, nodding a couple times. "If we don't move, we're both going to die here. The containment field is not going to hold forever. This entire bridge tower is going to depressurize, with us in it." He gestured at the hallway with his empty hand. His face was serious and he was speaking slowly like Hux was dimwitted. He supposed he must have looked that way, wanting to argue like this.
"Fine," Hux conceded. "Go."
The pilot turned and strode off, glancing back to make sure Hux was coming. And yes, Hux followed. Half-seething, half-distracted by the continuing destruction of the Finalizer. Because that was clearly what was going on. It was why they'd been evacuating the bridge in the first place.
The guy went around a corner and did a full stop just a few steps beyond it. Hux saw the reason for it when he came around the corner himself. Two squads of stormtroopers were clustered in front of the lift. When Hux saw them, they had their blasters up and half of them pointed at the pilot, who slowly raised his hands, his blaster still held in one.
Hux stepped to the side of him. "The general," one of the troopers said. The muzzles of their weapons drifted to the side so none of them were pointing at him.
The pilot looked to Hux and sighed. "And I was having such a good time."
"Were you?"
The guy shrugged. "Not really, but maybe. I felt like it was going somewhere at least."
"You're babbling."
"Can you blame me?"
"Holster your blaster." He walked by. The stormtroopers took his order (and the pilot obeying it) as a sign the pilot wasn't an enemy. They stopped pointing their weapons at either of them. There was a distant explosion to remind them all of the ongoing battle. The floor shook under their feet. To the troopers, Hux said, "Who's in charge here?"
"You are, sir!" said several of them brightly and simultaneously.
Behind him, Hux heard the pilot snicker at how Hux hadn't gotten the answer he wanted. But by now Hux had spotted the rank insignia he needed to know who to speak to. "First sergeant? Bring your squad. Come with me. The lifts are out in the tower. We'll use stairs. We're going to hangar bay two." He thought about Kylo's warning as well as his last view of the tactical situation. "We need to get off the ship."
As they descended to the lower levels, the sound of weapons impact against the hull changed. Hux knew it was due to the containment field collapsing. They'd already been without shields and engines. Soon they would be without air and power. It was only the sheer bulk of the mighty ship protecting them now. He would miss her, but he'd already nearly paid for his sentimentality with his life, so he kept moving.
He stopped at the first working comm panel to signal a general evacuation, though he was uncertain if their enemies would collect refugees or use them for target practice. Either way, it would complicate space around them and aid in their own escape. Staying put was a definite death sentence for everyone.
They made it to the hangar. The individualized containment field for the hangar was still operational. Most ships were still in their berths.
"That's not a good sign," the pilot said, gesturing at the hangar. "Why wouldn't other people be here taking off?"
"We were operating on a skeleton crew since the debacle at Crait," Hux said, which was more explanation than the man deserved. "We'll take the closest one."
"I might have an opinion about that," the pilot muttered.
"Then keep it to yourself," Hux snapped at him. They hustled across the deck, only for Hux to rescind his order and direct them to the third ship – an Upsilon-class shuttle: bigger, faster, better shielded, better armed. That made it more of a target, but he didn't have time to weigh the factors.
"Good choice," the pilot said, unasked. He walked past Hux at the top of the ramp, heading to the forward compartment.
"Where do you think you're going?"
"I'm a pilot. I'm going to go sit in the pilot seat and do pilot stuff."
"You're flying-?" Hux cut himself off there. Actually, the man had a point.
The pilot came back, hands on hips in a dominant posture. "Can you? Fly this thing?" Hux said nothing, but the angry expression was off his face. The guy smirked. "Because I know none of them can." He waved back at the troopers who had filed inside and were now doubtless watching the confrontation with interest. "You color-code them. Pilots wear black or red. Not white. And you just ordered an evacuation. No one's at their stations to answer your call."
Not that Hux had made one. Or would. He'd scrambled every fighter they had early on in the fight. There was no one left to respond even if he tried.
The guy took a half-step forward, lips parting, eyes hooded, and looked up into Hux's face from far too close. "Admit it," he said huskily, his breath warm against Hux's skin, "you need me."
He probably meant it as some kind of threat. … some … some kind. Hux felt his face heat and his mouth go dry. He instantly remembered that humiliating prank call over D'Qar as he realized who this person was. It didn't help things. He tried to snarl but it only came out as a grimace. The guy was studying him with a peculiar, incisive interest. He was still way too close. The man tilted his head and said, "I'm going to go, uh …" He hooked a thumb over his shoulder.
"Yes." Hux's voice came out strangled. "You should. Go." He turned on his heel and stomped the entirely too short distance over to the first sergeant. "You've been monitoring chatter?" he said in a more normal voice. The trooper nodded. "Report." Having not heard any indication the pilot had moved, Hux glanced back. The man was biting his lower lip and looking down with a thoughtful expression. He met Hux's eyes, but Hux spun away, back to the first sergeant. Then he heard him walk off to the forward compartment.
"Rebel scum," Hux spat. "Filthy-minded … degenerate …" One thing about stormtrooper helmets – they gave away nothing of the expressions going on under it. This wasn't Phasma he was talking to. "Never mind that. Are the central computers still functioning?"
"Yes sir." She reached up to toggle a comm switch under the left jawline of the helmet.
"What's the progress on the evacuation?"
"Twenty-three percent of the life pods have been launched."
"How many of them still have active transponders?" He could hear the pilot saying something from the forward compartment, but it didn't seem directed to any of them. Hux looked over that way.
The first sergeant hesitated as she did whatever was necessary to pull the additional information, then said, "Seventeen percent, sir."
"Thank you."
Hux pivoted and went to the forward compartment, arriving just as the pilot finished with, "Rendezvous on my signal. Dameron out."
"Ah, yes. Your name. Poe Dameron."
The man pocketed the comm link he'd been using for the transmission. "I'm charmed you remember me," he said diplomatically.
"It was difficult to forget given what you've done, but I managed."
Poe turned and checked a blinking light, then hit a button. It stopped blinking. "How much of a grudge am I dealing with here?"
"A grudge? For what you did? Why?"
"What?" Poe looked at him uncertainly.
"Why would I have a grudge against you for what you did? It was spectacularly effective."
"What?" Uncertainty changed to disbelief.
"The Rebel scum must be scrubbed from the galaxy, but your actual competence is commendable. I can respect a criminal who has audacity and skill. It doesn't make him any less a criminal."
"That means I've got a shot, then."
"A what?"
"Never mind." Poe laughed to himself and went back to the controls.
Hux had more important questions than this overly familiar banter. "How many of you are there, anyway?"
"Just a few. We came out of hyperspace and all this was going on." He swept his hand to indicate everything beyond the viewport. "Are those your own guys attacking you?"
"That's not something I will discuss with you."
"Fine. But trust me, this was not what we thought we'd be flying into."
"Flying into? Where's your ship?"
"Ah … well, let's just say, 'Thanks for the shuttle,' okay?" Poe laughed again and finished the start-up sequence. The man added, "We got shot down by those guys same as you."
"You crashed. Just like on Jakku? Seems to be a trend."
"I don't crash. I have hard landings."
"Perhaps I spoke too soon about your competence," he teased, pleased to have put the arrogant Rebel on the defensive.
Poe waggled a finger at him. "No one has ever died during one of my landings. At least, none of the passengers. Can't say for sure I haven't landed on a few people I didn't like." His head turned to look out the viewport. "Hey, there they are. They must have been close."
Hux looked where he was pointing. Some motley half dozen people were hurrying across the deck, homing in on them. Four were in First Order uniforms, but two others were not. Those two weren't even human – a gangrel Wookiee and some thick-bodied humanoid thing that was at least wearing clothes, which was more than could be said of the Wookiee. "I agreed to Ren coming with us, not half the Resistance army."
"That's funny," Poe said dryly. "The Resistance is a little bigger than that."
"What's left of them."
That barb appeared to bite deeper than the others. Poe grimaced. With difficulty, he said, "In any case, this shuttle isn't going anywhere without them."
Hux put a hand on the butt of his blaster, but didn't pull it. "No matter what?"
Poe stared at his hand where it rested on the blaster, then locked eyes with him for a long, sober moment. "What would you do if those were your friends out there?"
"I don't have 'friends'," Hux said scathingly.
"Well … um …" It was gratifying to see how much that threw the pilot off his stride, but he recovered with, "If they were?"
The man obviously wasn't going to be intimidated and he was the only pilot he had. Hux couldn't shoot him without being stranded here. If Poe saw 'friendship' the same way Hux saw 'duty', then he wasn't going to make any headway in convincing him to leave them behind. Hux frowned and said, "Then I need to make sure there's not an incident." He walked back to the troopers and told them, "A half dozen Resistance members are coming, some dressed in First Order uniforms, some are aliens. They aren't allies, but don't shoot them."
A young woman in a colonel's uniform was up the ramp first and if she even saw the troopers, she didn't react. But the second in line, outfitted as a captain, jerked to a halt with a startled, "Whoa!" His blaster pistol was up and pointed, first at a trooper, then at Hux as he noticed him. Hux recognized him as the traitor, FN-2187.
"No," Hux said when the troopers retaliated by pointing their own weapons. He put a hand out to the side toward the troopers.
The woman turned to review what was going on. The two aliens and two other uniformed infiltrators bunched up on the ramp behind FN-2187 had their weapons out as well.
Poe came sauntering in and draped a hand over Hux's shoulder in an overly familiar fashion. Hux glanced at him, then decided to go with it. He straightened and lifted his chin.
"Poe," FN-2187 said. "Who's in charge here?" He was looking around now, seeing a dozen troopers, one general, and Poe, but the pilot was still armed and obviously free to move about.
"This guy," Poe said, surprising Hux by gesturing to him. Every single one of the troopers swiveled their heads to look at Poe. FN-2187's brows went up as well. This was open acknowledgment that Hux was in command of them (or at least of Poe, and no one else was arguing) and a much bigger deal among them than among the Resistance, whom Hux believed observed proper chain of command only very loosely.
"Okay …" FN-2187 said slowly. He looked at the woman who had entered first. Other than Poe and Hux, she was the only one without a weapon drawn and ready.
"I don't sense any danger," she said.
"Of course not," Poe said. "We're friends now," he added firmly. He reached over with the hand that wasn't still draped over Hux's shoulder and patted him on the upper chest to make it absolutely clear who he was talking about, nonsensical as it was. To FN-2187, he said, "Come onboard. Get settled in. I'm just about done with the startup sequence." Poe went back up front like nothing of import had happened.
FN-2187 lowered his weapon and finished coming up the ramp slowly, taking a good long look at the situation. Hux made a dismissive wave at the troopers, who holstered their blasters. He eyed the two aliens bringing up the rear, the Wookiee in particular. Wookiees had a well-founded hate for the Empire, which he presumed might apply to the First Order as well. He was fairly sure he recognized this one.
As for the other alien, he was sure he'd seen the species before in a class about such things, but he couldn't recall what they were called. It was slick-skinned and bluish, with a yellowish cast to the bottom half of its face. It looked to outweigh average humans by half again. Most of the extra bulk was in its torso and shoulders, which implied the brutish physical strength so common to inferior alien species. It also had an extended cranium, which often meant increased intelligence, but who could tell?
The ship quaked hard enough to rattle them even inside the shuttle. Hux turned to the first sergeant. "The escape pods?" he asked quietly.
"Thirty-eight percent launched, twenty-nine percent active."
"They're shooting them, then," he said sourly. "But not with any thoroughness. Maybe some will survive. It also means they'll be shooting at us." He went to the forward compartment and pulled out his comm link. Flipping it over, he activated the holo-projection feature and then hit another button. A wire frame representation of the nearby elements of the ship sprang into being above it, along with a glowing red dot.
"What's that?" Poe asked.
"Ren. He's nearly here."
"You … have a tracking beacon on Kylo?"
Hux looked at him steadily. "Yes."
"You know I'm going to tell him, right?"
"About the tracker?" Poe nodded. Hux told him, "He knows."
Poe's head pulled back. "You sentenced him to death for treason, tried to have him executed, and … he knows you have that on him? He left it?"
"It's complicated and no business of yours."
The woman came up behind him. Hux snapped off the projection and stepped uneasily to the side so he could see her. She said, "Kylo's nearly here."
"Yeah, that's what he said."
Her expression was questioning, but Hux headed it off by saying, "There," and inclining his head. He'd been watching the door Ren was most likely to use. And he did. Poe made himself busy at the controls, bringing the warmed-up engines off standby.