AN: Happy Monday, and I'm sorry.
.***.***.***.***.
An eerie silence lingered on the bridge.
The data readouts flickered with their endless streams of information. The stars sat as distant pin points of light, millions of miles away from the looming star destroyer. The operators sat at their terminals, each of them too scared to make a sudden move but even more afraid to appear as if they were failing at their job.
Kylo Ren had been off the ship for weeks, with his knights gone along with him. Though the black clad force users were away, the Finalizer was still haunted by an equally dark force.
General Hux stood on the bridge. Hands stiffly clasped behind his back, he appeared to be staring into the void, watching the flickering light of distant stars.
The crew was surprised that Hux had shown up today.
The anniversary of the attack on the Supremacy was less than two weeks away. There weren't any plans for a memorial, or celebration, or any acknowledgment of the occasion at all. The crew all knew that the general hadn't gotten over the attack, and they had expected him to be even worse than usual when it came near.
What they hadn't expected were the hushed warnings that came from their coworkers in the records department.
Not only was the anniversary of the attack in less than two week's time, but today would have been the general's daughter's first birthday. There hadn't been a word of discussion about it in the bridge, with each of the crew members knowing better than to dare bring it up.
General Hux could feel the tension in the air. It made his skin crawl while also providing some cold and twisted comfort. He wouldn't be the object of anyone's pity, he refused. He could have taken the crew's weariness of his every move to be proof that they still knew that he was really in control of this ship. But he knew that they were simply fearful that he might do something erratic, that he might order them to invade or attack a planet without Kylo Ren's approval.
They don't give a damn about what I do. They're only concerned for themselves. The most bitter part of his realization came from the fact that Ren was still in charge even when he wasn't there.
The sharp surface thoughts that Hux tried to focus his distain on didn't do anything to distract him from his real issue of the day. He hadn't woken up in a bad mood that morning, so much as he had drifted in and out of a drunken stupor through the night. He had only managed to pull himself together when he had come across an opportunity for espionage.
A shipment of new data encoders where bound for the Absolution. Hux had only been coaxed out of his office so that he could approve the shipment and pocket an extra encoder. He'd only held onto it long enough to slip it into another shipment that was bound to some no name mining operation in the mid rim. He'd even included a short letter explaining the components importance.
Hux tried to tell himself that he only put the extra effort in so that his leaked data would actually be useful. But he knew that he had just been looking for a distraction. It wasn't even a very good distraction, as the whole thing had reminded him of Lori. In a moment of weakness, he had even singed his note with her initials.
Hux shifted his stance slightly. That can be fixed by writing more letters with more random names later. Let them think that there are hundreds of spies.
A perceivable nervous shuffle rippled through the crew as the general moved.
Hux steadied himself, wishing that he were capable of a full nights sleep. In lieu of that, he had been hoping for the constant murmur of activity of the bridge. That might have been something to keep his mind preoccupied.
Instead, he was left to wait until he could no longer stand. Then he would all but crawl back to his office and wait for tomorrow so that he could start the whole charade over again. That was what he had done for months now, and today was no day to change that pattern.
The general tried to correct his slipping stance once again.
But today isn't like the others, is it?
Neither Lori nor him had ever been the ones to hold a loud celebration. He knew that they wouldn't have held a party, but he also knew that they would have done something special. He knew that today should have been a good day.
.***.***.***.***.
Today had been eventful, and it looked like it would remain that way.
Finn and Poe had left an hour ago. Lori hadn't been told the details, but the open-air nature of the camp made it difficult to hide the very loud and very rushed holocall that had come in from the mid-rim. The voice was garbled, but Lori was able to tell that a new, and apparently extraordinary, piece of information had been leaked.
The spy had been the subject of debate within the camp. At first people had doubted the information that had been sent out, it seemed too good to be true. But after the information had turned what would have been suicide missions into narrow escapes, and after Mitaka had confirmed some pieces of information, the rebels had come to rely on the mysterious source.
A sharp sound from Ardis grabbed Lori's attention, "Foo!"
Lori looked down at the infant to find her making the exaggerated biting motions that she had grown fond of.
"Hold on a minute," Lori spoke to the little girl before scooping her up.
Brixie had insisted that they do something to celebrate Ardis' first birthday. Lori appreciated the gesture, and she knew that Ardis would have fun with whatever the medic had planned. But the very idea of acknowledging Ardis' first birthday without Armitage felt like a punch to the gut. A blow made all the worse by the fact that she should have been able to find a way around it. Lori had always been one to talk herself out of trouble, but when she had needed that skill the most, she had found herself failing at every turn.
Some smooth criminal I am. Can't even sneak away from, what… she looked around the camp as she walked towards Brixie's field hospital, ten people? Is that all it takes to keep me trapped on a no name planet?
Lori hadn't passed a single functioning ship on her walk, but that didn't stop her from telling herself that she was an utter failure, that she should have found some other way off planet.
"Lori! You're early." Brixie's carefree voice barely managed to distract Lori from her self-loathing.
The medic was standing on her examination table, holding a vine with brightly colored flowers woven through it. One end was tied to a low branch, and she had been in the middle of unsuccessfully trying to secure the other end.
"I didn't realize you were going to decorate."
They definitely didn't have much, but Brixie had tried to string up as many bright and colorful trinkets as she could. That mostly meant flowers, but there were a few defunct machine components hanging in bunches. Swaying slightly with the breeze, they made faint clinging noises that Ardis excitedly reached for. Dak had been roped into helping and just managed to turn on a sting of lights as Lori approached.
Brixie abandoned the vine and climbed down from the table as she replied, "Of course! It is a party after all."
The gesture was sweet, but Lori had to force her lazy smile, "It looks great. Thank you."
"No problem. I think we could all use a little cheering up." Brixie looked over to a now unoccupied Dak, "Hey, Dak. Can you tie this vine? The branch is out of my reach, even when I'm on the table."
The bounty hunter protested as he approached, "Can't you just stack some boxes on top of the table?"
"That doesn't seem very safe," Brixie looked between a group of boxes and the platform.
Lori was much more impatient when she gestured for Dak to get on with it, "just get up there."
Dak would have pushed back, but he knew that Lori would end up pressuring him into actually having to do work in the end. With a grumble, he pulled himself onto the table and went to work.
Brixie cast a quick look of thanks at Lori before going on with the conversation, "besides, I think Ardis likes the change in scenery."
The infant had completely forgotten that she had asked for food just a minute ago, and was now impatiently reaching out for one of the clattering bundles of metal that swayed from the trees. Lori let the squirming infant down, only for Ardis to use her leg as a support while she climbed her way to standing.
"Suppose she does," the unfretted joy and fascination on Ardis' features took the edge off of Lori's darkened thoughts, but not even that was capable of wiping the stubborn things away completely.
After a year of knowing Lori, Brixie was well aware that the former bounty hunter was slow to speak on personal problems. She had only heard Lori even mention Ardis' father once, and even then it was a quick spur of the moment thing.
Taking a gamble, but being pretty sure she was right, Brixie tried to take a gentle approach to the topic, "I'm sure he'd be proud, to see her looking around like that. You've done a great job."
Lori heard the medic's softened tone, but the words came as a painful blow. Trying not to let the medic's ignorant optimism get to her, Lori bit her tongue.
Brixie misinterpreted the pause as an invitation to continue her comments, "She's got your eyes, but she must look a lot like him."
A harsh stinging formed at the edge of Lori's eyes. She knew that she must be red in the face, and the fact that she was slipping in a way that people could no doubt see added a fresh layer of anger to the exhaustion.
"It's okay, you can-"
"I can't." The last time Lori had cried in front of another person had been on the Finalizer with Armitage, and she couldn't let herself be that vulnerable in a place like this.
Brixie was trying to be helpful. Trying to be a caring friend. Conflicted and knowing that she shouldn't be acting this way, the display of genuine sympathy set Lori even further on edge.
The medic opened her mouth to make a worried comment.
"Don't" Lori looked at Ardis as she spoke, straining herself to sound even a little bit calm, "It's Ardis' birthday. Let's leave it at that."
.***.***.***.***.
Hux didn't stagger back to his office, but he did fall into his chair, made unable to stand by the weight of the day. Though he was there for several hours, he hadn't uttered a word on the bridge. He only wanted this day to slide by, an immutable blur like all the others.
But the thoughts about the day he should be having plagued him.
The pain seemed to be the only thing keeping him alive these days. Tired of living but too afraid to die, Hux reached for one of the bottles that sat at the edge of his desk. Several clear containers clogged the table, a few empty ones having fallen to the ground.
The office was a mess. In shambles and a disgrace, he thought it reflected his emotional state a little too well. He didn't bother to hang up his coat anymore, instead wearing it like it would serve as some flimsy armor between him and everything else. Data pads were strewn across the desk. Code cylinders were loose in drawers, and a few sat scattered on the table. Other mounds of debris, some work related and some personal covered the durasteel surface.
Ignoring the mess, Hux poured himself a drink.
The liquor stung, its sensation little more than a bitter reminder that he was still alive while they weren't.
Hating every decision he made, Hux threw himself headlong into the terrible maelstrom of fear and anger and all the dreadful thoughts in his head. He had to. He had to do something because the only other choice was giving in completely. Falling to the despair, and wallowing in a tomb of his own creation.
It hurt. Every day was a dagger to the chest, and every accursed breath brought with it the wish that it would be his last. It would have been the best and easiest thing to let go, to embrace the liberating apathy of despair.
But he wouldn't. He couldn't.
He took another drink.
A blaster sat on his desk.
Hux clung to the hope that tomorrow might be different. He gripped the pain and let it be proof to himself that he was still alive. He let the terrible need for control, the obsession with power, be his driving force. No one would defeat him, least of all himself.
Forgetting the empty glass he took a drink straight from the bottle. When that one was finished, he staggered to the cabinet at the other end of the room. Unable to stay standing, he slumped to the floor and haphazardly reached for the nearest bottle.
Trying not to care a single ounce what he did to himself that night, Hux forced himself be grateful that he could no longer stand to reach his desk.
Then he realized that the blaster wasn't the only thing sitting on it's surface. The holodisk, one year old tonight, sat beside it. Battered, broken, nearly unrecognizable, it lay perfectly within his reach yet impossibly far away.
A tangle of emotion came to torment him again.
Are they out there somewhere? Safe. Please? He knew that his hopes were impossible, They have to be. They have to be!
"Come here… please… come here." His words were slowed and slurred and so very small in the derelict room.
He reached forward, arm weighed down by a half filled bottle. His head swam as he swayed. The attempt to see them again ended in predictable failure as he slumped over, the bottle cracking against the ground and his face landing with a cold slap.
Choking on the liquor and his own uneven breath, he sobbed a single word, "Please."
The only things to answer him were the cold floor and the colder liquor soaking into his uniform. He didn't bother shoving the bottle away, he hadn't the ability to roll to the side.
Instead he closed his eyes and desperately tried to hold on.
.***.***.***.***.
"Happy Birthday!" a handful of voices rang out in the clearing.
They were still low on supplies, and there were important tasks at hand, but the rebels had taken a moment away to play along with Brixie's plan for a party. The small celebration was a welcome chance to ignore the pressure they were under; A small distraction from the looming danger of the First Order, and the seemingly endless despair that came from living at the edge of the galaxy.
Ardis had no way of understanding the significance of the day one way or another, and simply enjoyed being the center of attention. She had happily taken the colorful fruits that had been offered to her, and had spent the better half of her little party messily squishing and eating them.
By the time Ardis had finished with her treats, most of the rebels had drifted back to their stations. The few who remained offered trinkets to the infant. Most of them were crudely crafted from scrap or fashioned from the plants around camp. Despite their jerry-rigged nature, Ardis had been happy to rattle and toss the toys as far as her little arms would allow.
The party had drifted to a close not long after Ardis decided to turn the occasion into play time. Besides Lori and Ardis, the only ones remaining in the decorated section of the clearing were Brixie, Mitaka, and Dak.
Brixie laughed slightly as she watched Ardis cling to Lori's leg.
Mitaka followed the medic's line of sight, purposefully not catching Lori's eye as he did. Ardis was growing every day, her hair had gotten longer and fuller. Going from a barely there whisp to a still thin mop that fell just above her jaw, it was still the same vibrant red shade as the general's.
Mitaka found himself tensely comparing the infant's features to those of her father. It was still too early to tell, but Mitaka was sure that Ardis' nose and jaw would be identical to Hux's. The little girls eyes were thankfully similar to Lori's, but Mitaka knew that anyone would be able to see the familial resemblance if they saw Ardis and the general standing side by side.
At the moment, Ardis was barley supported by her pudgy legs, and joyfully shouting 'no' at Dak whenever he offered her a toy. The giggles grew tenfold every time the wiry bounty hunter set down whatever he was holding in an overly dejected way. Only for him to fetch something else and for the process to repeat.
Brixie gave a lighthearted comment at the display, "I don't know if she actually means 'no', or if she just likes telling people what to do."
She doesn't just look more like the general. He found himself coming to a troubling realization.
Mitaka tried to hide his nervous shuffle at the innocuous comment, though he couldn't help but let some of his worries surface, "I suspect it's the latter."