A/N: I know Dan Gable doesn't exist in GFFA. But I have to call it something.

"No, you didn't," Finn said in half a grumble. He pushed away from the doorway to walk inside the room. Hux stepped back so he could have everyone in his field of view.

"Yes, I did!" Dameron said happily as he grabbed a black synth-leather jacket from a nearby chair.

Past Dameron, the officer asked him, "What about your report?"

"Hey, I gotta eat." He waved vaguely at the trade routes. "I'll come back and finish it tonight. Later."

Hux let himself study the board for the first time. It was a map of the known regions of the galaxy with standard trade and transit routes laid out. There were markers assigned to various terminuses and intersections – ships, he assumed. For taxation? Enforcement? Policing?

The officer chided, "The commission needs that first thing in the morning."

"And they'll have it, okay?" Dameron said. He ended muttering, "I'll get it. Eventually. Before morning."

"What are you working on here?" Hux asked, indicating the board.

"Trying to minimize pirate attacks," Dameron explained. "Guarding the shipping lanes with the vessels we have. Establishing patrols. You know – 'general' stuff. Figuring out ways to bring down your enemies without actually fighting. It's a new thing for me."

"Mm." Hux's eyes roved over the lines connecting star systems. The Unknown Regions weren't included, nor were the various hyperspace lanes the First Order had mapped out with Starkiller Base. While of course those wouldn't be on the older maps of the New Republic, they were definitely on the star charts of any First Order-related pirates.

Interesting that the First Order ships that had surrendered hadn't passed over their own star charts. Or maybe Dameron and the rest of the New Republic hadn't thought to ask for them. It was well above Finn's grade, after all. He wouldn't even know they existed, as the vast majority of people on First Order ships had nothing to do with astronavigation. On the larger vessels, a solid majority didn't even know where the ship was at any given time, much less how they got there.

"It's giving me fits," Dameron admitted, putting his fists on his hips as he faced the table. "Some of them just come out of nowhere."

"I can imagine," he said dryly.

"You see something there?" Dameron said hopefully.

Hux nodded, but then pointedly steered the conversation away from the New Republic's problems. "You mentioned food?" He was itching to solve them, though. He hated pirates and more than that, he hated the disorder that had some of his ships participating in it. Did they think they were still serving the mission? Were they under someone else's control now? They were his people and this was his first opportunity to check in with them. That they had stooped to this meant they didn't see anything better to do. They needed direction and leadership.

Dameron took the hint. "Yeah, okay. Let's go grab dinner."

"You need a wing man?" Finn asked, and there was something odd about his tone. It was like he knew what Dameron's answer would be.

"Nah, I got this," Dameron confidently waved him off as he went out the door. Hux glanced between the officer and Finn, seeing her make a helpless shrug and Finn roll his eyes heavenward. There were undercurrents here, but as it was poor form to comment on them openly, he followed Dameron.

The military headquarters of the somewhat-reconstituted New Republic was based out of a few dozen older-model mining ships currently anchored in a cluster on an otherwise uninhabited planet. It was a comfortingly familiar setup to Hux, who had seen the First Order rise from the same conditions. It was unsettling to see the New Republic (or the Resistance) doing the same when they were the supposed winners of the latest round of conflict. The ships were all vertical affairs, either ribbed cylinders or tapered wedges with exaggerated, flat tops.

Hux knew how they functioned on a basic level: they brought in raw ore at one end, processed it through the central core of the ship, and exported refined ore, ingots, or whatever out the top. That end also had offices, quarters, mess halls, storage areas, and other facilities ringing the central shaft. He'd confronted Dameron in one of those. Now Dameron led him to the landing area up top. It was where Hux had started on this particular ship. And where someone was waiting for him.

"Do you like Corellian food?" Dameron was asking him as they rode the lift up.

"I've never had it." Hux had no idea what it was, either, aside from an entire planet's cuisine reduced to a single genre.

"Well, the Ferrule mess hall has the best ryshcate-"

"Hey, darling," a familiar voice crooned. She wasn't quite human, but that didn't mean Hux knew what she was. Her basic form was human, but her features were exaggerated as though with overzealous cosmetic surgery. He would have dismissed it as that, but her limbs were longer and thinner than normal to go with it and he didn't know the limits of body alteration. She'd worked hard to be alluring, but he found her to be borderline threatening.

Hux barely kept himself from recoiling. "As I said earlier," he told her curtly, "I will not be needing your services any longer."

"But I promised to wait for you, lovely."

"And I told you not to."

She moved forward and tried to insinuate her arm around Hux's. He jerked away. "But sweetie," she said, "I can't just leave you all alone out here. Anyone might snap you up, even here. Why don't you just come with me and I'll show you where we can rent some space for private time? I'll get you all fixed up."

"No." He edged away, not happy about giving ground, but wanting some distance in case she grabbed at him again.

Dameron smoothly inserted himself between them when the woman tried to move in. "Sorry, lady. He's already snapped up. Now get lost."

She hesitated, her expression darkening. "This isn't your business."

"Yes, it is," Dameron said. "Explicitly. I'm his agent."

She looked over Dameron's shoulder.

"He's right," Hux said, since she seemed to need extra convincing.

Dameron added, "He said no. You're out of luck. Go somewhere else."

Snarling, she slunk back to the air car and left with less revving of the engine and posturing than Hux had expected.

"Sheesh!" Dameron said as she left. He gave Hux a disbelieving look. "I'm not usually that rude to people right off the bat, but wow. I assume you don't know her, right?"

"Obviously, I know her somewhat. I initially landed on the wrong ship, or at least a different one than you were on. She offered to shuttle me here. I didn't understand …" He hesitated and tried again. "I am not familiar with the customs here-"

"No, you're fine." Dameron gazed after her receding vehicle before giving himself a little shake and turning back to Hux. "Has that been happening a lot?"

"As I mentioned, I have been accosted with a variety of offers. Most are more transactional, although I'm sure hers was as well, should the façade be removed."

"Well, I can help some with that," Dameron said as he led them toward a line of speeder bikes parked in an area to the side of the lift entrance. "Next time, just tell them you're with me."

"As your agent?" Hux said with a teasing lilt.

"As whatever." Dameron climbed on one of the bikes. It responded to his presence, through some key fob, sensor, or perhaps just voice recognition, though it didn't look sophisticated enough for the latter. Lights came up, repulsors powered up, and the engine hummed to life.

It was a two-seater. Obviously, he expected Hux to join him. The parameters of said joining had yet to be explored. "A fake relationship?" Hux straddled the vehicle uneasily, his legs hanging as he leaned to one side looking for pegs to rest his feet on.

"Yeah." Dameron manipulated a few controls on the panel in front of him. The thing lifted.

Even though it was smooth, it still left Hux shifting to keep his balance. He hadn't found the damn foot pegs. Tentatively, he moved his hands near Dameron's shoulders. "Do I touch you?"

Dameron looked over his shoulder. "We're dating, right? Or pretending to be?"

"Yes?"

Dameron laughed like Hux was being silly. "Yeah, you touch me." He shook his head and turned back ahead, taking off. It was nowhere near the surge the speeder bike was capable of, and inertial dampeners reduced the lurch even further. Nevertheless, Hux grabbed Dameron's shoulders roughly, sinking his fingers into the jacket like they were claws. The thick material bunched up in his fists.

Their forward momentum decreased immediately. Their course veered to the side in a wide arc. Dameron looked back at him again. "Put your arms around my waist."

"What?" He finally found the supports for his feet. They'd been folded flush with the side of the bike and only appeared when he tapped them with his foot.

"Put your arms," Dameron called over his shoulder, "around my waist."

"Why?" Although he was more stable with his feet set, they were still a dizzying height from the jungle so far below. He'd die if he fell off. Though he'd die if Dameron crashed them into anything, too (not that there were many options beyond the obvious one of the ground). How anyone could think an open-air vehicle like this was a reasonable form of transportation was beyond him.

"So you can hang on in a way that doesn't interfere with me flying."

Well. Fine. He'd already decided this wasn't how he wanted to die. Hux released his grip and hovered his hands near Dameron's waist. If he grabbed the jacket here, it would be less stable than the shoulders. There wasn't much point in doing it.

Dameron changed another setting on the panel and reached back on both sides. He clasped Hux's hands, making him jump and yelp, then jerk them away. There was almost nowhere to go. He pushed himself as far back as he could go on the seat, holding the edges of the seat cushion in lieu of touching Dameron.

The pilot put his hands back on the handlebars with a slow, deliberate motion. For a moment, it seemed like nothing else was happening, but then they were landing and it was impossible that they'd made it to one of the other mining ships. They must have made a complete circle while he was white-knuckling the seat and staring at the rumpled synth-leather of Dameron's jacket.

They set down smoothly. Hux's instinct was to leap off and get away. But that felt like fleeing and all that had happened was that Dameron had briefly taken his hands. He wasn't wearing gloves – they weren't part of standard civilian garb and so he hadn't purchased any. He regretted it. He stayed where he was.

Dameron glanced over his shoulder, then changed a few settings on the vehicle. He dismounted. "Okay. You want to fly?"

Kriff. So this was what his reticence had gotten him. "I don't know how."

Disbelief colored Dameron's face for a moment, then cleared. "Okay. Do you want to learn?"

"If I fail, then we fall into the jungle and die. I will just hang on."

Dameron shook his head with an amused smile. "No, no, that's okay. I don't mind showing you. It's not complicated. I can keep my balance pretty good. But a question – you don't want me to touch your hands, right?" Whatever expression Hux gave him was unguarded enough that Dameron understood it correctly. "Okay. Can I touch you, around the waist, to hang on?"

"Yes?" He answered without thinking it through. Once the word was out, he started visualizing just exactly what this meant.

Dameron waved his hand to urge Hux from the back of the speeder to the front. "Go on then. Slide on up there and I'll walk you through the controls before I get on."

"You really think I can successfully fly this on the first try? Enough that you are willing to risk your life on it?"

"I'm a good teacher." For a second, Dameron's eyes slid out of focus. Then they came back and his voice was husky again. "I'm a great teacher."

Hux blinked at him. He wasn't sure what to make of that. His mouth was dry and his fingers felt twitchy. His face felt warm. It must be some aftereffect of nearly falling to his death. Distractedly, he slid forward.

Dameron stepped up next to him. He pointed at the right handlebar. "You right-handed?"

"Yes."

"Okay. Put your hand on there, but don't turn it." Hux did so. "You roll the handle for forward thrust." Dameron made a demonstrative motion with his own hand. "Note – forward, not up, not down." The cover of the handlebar was loose, but Hux followed directions and didn't roll it. The left one was also loose. Dameron said, "You steer by moving the handlebars. Right and left is intuitive. Pull back for up. Push forward for down. Be careful you do most of the steering on the left handlebar and that you don't open the throttle on the right when you do it."

"Does the left handle also roll?"

"No, I locked it. It's a little wiggly because yes, you can have it set that way and then it's a lot more maneuverable but you're not going to start that way."

"Was that how it was set when you were flying it?"

"No, but that's just because I might want to fly one-handed or wave at someone or something. If I was doing competition flying or combat, then sure." Dameron pointed at where Hux's feet had found the pegs for the driver. In front of them was a cup. "Now, stick the toe of your shoe in the cups. You brake with your feet using that. I've also locked that to one input. You brake either side, and it stops evenly, no slewing. There's no right/left thrust/braking going on for learners. This is why we're not going to crash. It's very easy to fly one of these."

"But I could brake and accelerate at the same time?"

"True. But the system will prioritize deceleration. There's also a pretty stupid autopilot that avoids impact and keeps us right-side up. I turned that on. Just in case."

"Why do you say it's stupid?"

"Because it can't follow a course. The most sophisticated thing it can do is land before it runs out of fuel mid-air. It can't function as a pilot. That's your job." With that, Dameron took the second seat, easy-peasy, like he had complete faith in Hux's ability to fly after such a skimpy lesson.

Hux had briefly realized the problem with the arrangement before he'd been distracted by the walk-through. But now … Dameron was going to put his hands around him. He was going to be up against him like some mating animal. And the man was attracted to him. Hux would have suspected Dameron had done this on purpose if there had been any reasonable way for him to have predicted Hux wouldn't touch him.

Maybe he did know that. Had Finn told him? Would Finn even know? Hux didn't think so. It wasn't a universal condition in the First Order, but touching was strongly discouraged. Before his thoughts could settle on a course of action, Dameron had moved almost flush with him and put his hands around Hux's waist. He cinched them in a gable grip.

Hux swallowed, looking down at the joined hands over his belly. There wasn't much pressure yet, but he expected there would be once they were in motion. He would have to stay focused on the flight, not on Dameron. He let out a deep breath, resolving to do this. "How- How do I take it out of idle?"

"Green button."

There was a panel right in front of his groin, where the handlebars joined the body of the speeder. Hux pressed the green button on it, expecting motion. None came. He relaxed a little and put his right hand back on the throttle. He rolled it slowly. They scooted forward. Alarmed, he drove the handlebars forward, which inadvertently rolled the throttle while directing them down. It was more than the impact-avoidance system could compensate for, so they struck sparks off the deck and bounced hard. Hux yanked back, overcompensating, but not thinking about how he already had the throttle wide-open.

The machine shot off the deck like a rocket. Dameron seized him tight around the waist and let off a peal of noise. Hux identified it as laughter after a few seconds of thinking it was anguish or alarm. He was busy braking (was he supposed to push up or down with his toes?), but trying not to do so catastrophically, lest they plummet to their doom.

Not that this was likely to happen. As it turned out, failing to make forward progress did not mean they fell. It was, after all, a hoverbike. 'Aerodynamic lift' was not something it used. It just slowed down and hung there, self-leveling itself once he wasn't applying thrust. Hux's heart was pounding in his chest, despite the anticlimactic stop. His extremities tingled with the adrenaline dump. For long seconds, he sat there perfectly still and tried to regain his composure.

No wonder Dameron had said it was hard to crash. Dameron had mostly stopped laughing, but he still held Hux firmly, flush against his back so that Hux could feel every lingering gasp and chortle. His presence wasn't as off-putting as Hux had expected. Sure, he was there, but the sexual overtones he'd worried about weren't present. At the moment, Hux was just glad they were both alive (but especially himself).

If the inertial dampeners hadn't been in good working order, they'd have both slid off the back instead of dramatically launching off the platform. He wondered how much Dameron needed to be holding onto him, but he didn't complain. It was nice, like being held by a child. He was calming down, feeling that maybe they could get moving again, more safely this time.

Hux rolled the throttle no more than a twelfth of a rotation. It sent them forward at a crawl just faster than a brisk walk. But they were moving and it was under his direction. "Which ship are we going to?" Hux asked over his shoulder, not risking taking his eyes off the empty air ahead of them. There was traffic between ships, but far from a steady stream. Fortunately, that also limited the audience for his virgin flight.

"Up ahead to the left. Second one with the bigger landing deck. That's the Jesop's Ferrule."

"I think that's the same one I landed on when I came in."

"Yeah, it's got most of the facilities. Best food, too."

Hux gradually increased their speed to what felt like a more reasonable pace. "Are any of these in operation?" When he risked a look down, he couldn't see any of the usual industrial exhaust. Nor was the jungle surface scarred from tailings or excavation.

"You mean the plenth ships?"

That was the category term for the vertically-oriented mining ships. "Yes."

"No, but I think they all work. The Mining Guild just had them idled."

"The Mining Guild?" They had firmly sided with the First Order. Since the very beginning, they had employed First Order ships to provide muscle while the guild extracted minerals in the Outer Rim and other areas the New Republic didn't bother with. It seemed impossible they would lend the ships to the New Republic, but maybe if enough money had been offered …? "Did you buy them?"

"Not exactly."

"Not- Ah. You confiscated them." What delightful hypocrisy. Hux let himself enjoy a smile, since Dameron couldn't see his face.

"Uh … yeah."

They were approaching the ship Dameron had indicated. It was the largest of the tapering wedges, although most of the pillar-shaped vessels were roughly the same size. "How do I land without just diving at it?"

He felt Dameron laugh a few times again. "Uh, I didn't talk about that, did I? Come in over the top of it, low if you can, kill your speed, and you just repulsor down."

The top of the Ferrule was bigger, but not empty like the place they'd come from. Here, they had to contend with several parked shuttles and aircars, along with one small freight ship being loaded or unloaded, a pair of beings on speeder bikes who were parked and talking, and a half dozen hovering droids of different types, scuttling about on whatever business they were up to. Hux circled the platform to find the best approach angle.

Dameron didn't say anything about Hux's flight choices, as he hadn't for the entire trip – not his disastrous take-off, nor his uneven control, or the initial slow pace. He was along for the ride and seemed comfortable with letting Hux make his own decisions – no change in grip or wriggling or annoyed noises. It was a change from being ordered around all the time. Hux wondered if perhaps he could find a way to insist on a second lesson, maybe on the way back. He could even fake another abrupt take-off so Dameron would hang onto him tightly.

He put aside those thoughts when he found a most empty section of the landing platform. He did his best to execute Dameron's instructions. He came in just a meter or so above the deck and slowed to a stop. Dameron said, "Okay, I'm going to reach around you. Hang on." He released his grip around Hux's waist and worked the few controls on the panel. The deep hum of the repulsors faded and they dropped slowly, hitting the deck harder than Hux thought safe for the equipment, but it was Dameron's bike.

"Great job!" Dameron dismounted and patted him on the shoulder in what Hux realized was meant as encouragement. The contact was disturbing, but it was paired with such a pleased tone that Hux was willing to tolerate it. "Exciting take-off and fantastic recovery!" He knelt to check something on the front, where they'd struck the deck at the outset.

Hux dismounted slowly, marveling inwardly at getting such unsolicited praise. Concerned he might have damaged the man's vehicle, he asked, "Is it intact?"

"Yeah, I think it's fine." Dameron took the pilot's seat. "I'm going to hover it over there to park, though. So it's out of the way." And where it was supposed to be.

He moved the machine slowly enough that Hux could keep up at a walk. Hux asked, "Why did the New Republic steal ships from the Mining Guild instead of just setting up their base on a planet? Any of the core worlds would do. The primary benefit of your mobility is squandered if you stay parked here."

"None of the core worlds wants to paint a bulls-eye on them for a repeat of the Hosnian system or Kijimi. We don't know how many Final Order ships there were, so how can we be sure we've accounted for all of them?"

With the loss of the Steadfast, her entire crew, Palpatine, and his headquarters, it did seem likely they'd lost everyone of a clearance level to know. Except Hux himself.

A similar thought must have occurred to Dameron as he powered down the speeder bike. "Hey, do you know how many ships Palpatine had?"

"Yes."

"Really? Kriff! You could just … tell us!"

"Pray tell, why would I do that?" Hux looked at him archly.

"Oh, come on!" Dameron flung his arms out to the side as though holding out on him was ridiculous.

Hux smiled for a second time during the outing, enjoying having something Dameron wanted. "How many were lost during the fighting? How many suicided wherever they were when Palpatine died? How many have been accounted for in the intervening months while I was in stasis? How could I possibly know without knowing those things?"

"Yeah, alright. But if you just tell us how many there were to start with, we can work out the rest."

"Without me?"

Dameron stopped next to the door and tilted his head. His lips tightened in a suppressed smile and his eyes seemed to twinkle. "Do you want to be involved?"

There was a long pause as Hux considered that. He didn't have to share the information at all. All he need do was find a First Order ship with crew intact and he could develop things from there – that was the route of returning to war and taking over the galaxy. That would ruin his nascent reputation as a redeemed hero. And he probably wouldn't get another lesson on how to fly a speeder bike. "Yes."