((I believe this is the longest chapter of Pristine Condition to date! Enjoy!))
"Flatter me, and I may not believe you. Criticize me, and I may not like you. Ignore me, and I may not forgive you. Encourage me, and I will not forget you. Love me and I may be forced to love you." William Arthur Ward
"Alert General Hux. And stop that fighter."
Security breach was an understatement. Hux arrived at the control room overlooking the departure bay (where the com had come from) and found it empty and in a state only rivalled by the destruction Kylo Ren left in his wake. The supposedly impenetrable glass separating the two vast areas lay in pieces on both sides, computer monitors sparked and control panels fizzed; several abandoned headsets were scattered on the floor and dangling helplessly from their sockets. He would have to try elsewhere. Arriving on the main bridge, there was a degree of mass hysteria so of course, the General zoned in on Lieutenant Mitaka for an explanation. Time was of the essence and the redhead was still ignorant of the extent of the situation.
"What the hell happened?!" He hissed to his companion's caretaker subtly, unnerved at the concept of a security breach on his flagship at any stage but especially when his Lucilla was so fragile and their desired future was almost secure. Of course his pride was injured too, it reflected poorly on him for such an occurrence.
"Sir, the pilot escaped with the help of a Stormtrooper." Hux's blood ran cold but Mitaka wasn't finished. "They've stolen a Tie-Fighter; Hangar six control room had to be evacuated due to broken glass and extensive damage to equipment with the risk of explosion." The Lieutenant had taken up his position at a control console and the General followed. "They're trying to exit the immediate vicinity but everything is being done to stop them." His immediate thought was sending Stormtroopers to his quarters but if the perpetrators were off-ship, Lucilla was safe. It seemed Mitaka's shyness and meekness had been forgotten; in the heat of duty, he was competent, calm and reliable. As he should be. There were several diverse pitches of alarmed beeping coming from different locations in the control room and Hux looked to Mitaka who checked over his monitor.
"Sir, they've taken out our turbo-lasers." The Lieutenant relayed calmly but with undertones of urgency as Hux stepped onto the main platform running through the control room, pacing it with a clear and confident dominance.
"Use the ventral cannons." He instructed flawlessly with barely a seconds thought; it was the most natural and possibly effective course of action. They were always the next step should the turbo-lasers fail.
"Yes, sir. Bringing them online." Hux relaxed for a moment. He had total faith in the efficiency and dedication of his staff but also in the design and strength of Finalizer. He believed with every fiber of his being that this would be resolved soon and with the desired result. Until….
"General Hux." The sliding doors of the main bridge glided to the command of the sensors and Kylo Ren appeared from nowhere. Hux felt his stomach coil at the modulator and the mass of black that swept towards him. Perfect. Ren would use this. He would use it to undermine the General and emasculate him to the beyond of it being unbearable. He would, no doubt, find a way of using it to his advantage in a bid to gain Lucilla as he'd previously been unable to do. "Is it the Resistance pilot?" Hux turned and by the time he had completed the length of the platform in yet another pace, Ren was upon him.
"Yes." Hux confessed crisply, almost too preoccupied with the current predicament to be overcome with the hatred he'd planted and nourished for the Knight. Almost. He felt a prickle of it even now with the control room nearly in a frenzy. "And he had help. From one of our own." Hands folded tight behind his back, he stared out at the expanse of stars but the battle of the lone Tie-Fighter couldn't be seen from the angle of the control room. Harassed, Hux continued as Ren moved away in a thoughtful saunter. "We're checking the registers now to identify which Stormtrooper it was."
"…The one from the village. FN-2187." The slightly older of the two restrained himself from showing discomfort. He had limited respect for the Force; he relied on discipline, order and military tact in his daily routine (except where Lucilla was involved, she required a far more gentle approach). But Ren did possess an obvious power that didn't just stretch to his lightsaber and his ability to warp the mind to his will. It made Hux uneasy that someone so unpredictable and aggressive could wield such power. Mitaka, however, granted him a merciful distraction.
"Sir. Ventral cannons hot." A fire of righteousness lit in the General's breast. This was retribution for blatant disobedience. Was that even a strong enough word? Abandonment? Betrayal? It mattered not; it was ending now. His cold but passionate order would ensure that the traitor and his pilot would meet a fiery and spiraling death.
"Fire."
With the way Finalizer was constructed, Hux could not feel the dropping or the turning of the cannons. Nor could hear the clicking when they locked onto their target but he wished he could. He wanted to relish every tiny detail of that turncoat's terrible demise, even if it cost him a Tie Fighter. But the tracker on the fighter showed no damage or even signs of slowing down. Irritated, Hux's attention was grabbed by Captain Phasma. He could not categorically say that he recognized the young man on the projections and according to the service record: Jakku had been his first official mission. He couldn't fathom why a sanitation Trooper was on Jakku on a mission Ren insisted was so important but there were far more pressing things at hand.
"FN-2187 reported to my division, was evaluated and sent to Reconditioning." Captain Phasma revealed loyally though it was impossible to tell if the chrome Trooper was ashamed by the instance; it was common knowledge she held great pride in the quality of the Stormtroopers, however she couldn't be blamed for this.
"No prior signs of non-conformity?" Hux pressed but Phasma was steadfast.
"This was his first offense."
"General." He turned away from the projections to a female technician sitting at a console a few feet away. "They've been hit."
"Destroyed?" The General questioned firmly as he approached the console in the same way he had paraded on the platform.
"Disabled." She replied as her eyes scanned the returning data from the crashed fighter. The information kept coming and she delivered it as she got it. "They were headed back to Jakku. The fighter's projected a crash in the Goazon badlands."
"They were going back for the droid." Hux surmised from the flashing notes coming up on the console screen with his lips pursed. "Send a squad to the wreckage."
Under the Supreme Leader's instruction, preparations were being made for the initial firing of Starkiller. The Supreme Leader was specific and even with Ren questioning his troops, processes and the whole Stormtrooper program; but Hux was determined. True, the droid had slipped through their fingers on Jakku twice over and now, two more fugitives had been added to the bounty list. With any luck, the traitor and his comrade would be delivered to them soon; there were too many looking for them for them to hide for too long. But the General had something else on his mind before he left for Starkiller Base. Orders had already been sent on to the staff on the base; primary preparations were being attended to prior to his arrival.
The General found his Lucilla at her vanity table. The blue eyed beauty skimmed the soft bristles of her sea shell brush through her satin mane and he halted at the bedroom door just to watch her while the skull looked on. Ever before she came to him, he had always intended to use Starkiller Base and it did seem that the Hosnian System was always the intended target to forward himself and his personal agenda. Now though, while those aspects still stood; he wanted to rebuild the galaxy and mold it to give Lucilla everything; whatever whim and desire she found herself craving. Removing the heart of the Republic was the first step to securing that legacy.
Lucilla didn't realize her General was present until he was almost upon her. An affectionate, amicable kiss was pressed to the companion's forehead and their parting was curbed by both his gloved hands cupping under her chin, simply holding her and admiring her. As always, when those incredible eyes heightened to him, he felt his heart flutter.
"Do you know what immediately enters my head when I see you?" He asked quietly, giving her cheek a careful stroke of his thumb as if she would bruise so easily. Lucilla didn't give him a verbal answer, a mere inclination of her head in the scope that he allowed her with his grasp. "Even when you're neutral like this or when you have gone to bed before I return; I wonder what I did to deserve you. I wonder if I was kind to someone, if I helped someone or was fortune just on my side?" A miniscule twinge of disappointment rippled in that angelic expression when he relinquished her face.
"That ends today, my darling." He straightened his posture almost to an extreme and stalked to the other side of the bed to start undressing. Lucilla grew more curious and so turned in her chair to follow him, obviously unperturbed by his growing nakedness. "From today, we do not rely on fate nor will we leave things to chance, my rose. We will make our own destinies, you and I." He looked over in time to see Lucilla's eyes dropping to below his waist and though time was short, the redhead couldn't resist.
"You know it's rude to stare, little dove." Hux reprimanded his most prized possession (or who had been his most prized possession) with a soft sort of danger as he made his way back around the bed to where she still sat. Lucilla was overshadowed by her General's skinny but (in her eyes) impeccable form and that gaze, a sort of innocent come hither, tempted him to caress the back of her head and that was the only coercion she needed. There was a sharp intake of breath when Hux's head tipped back as the wet heat of Lucilla's mouth enveloped him; the feather light movement was perfect for his mood.
Her own enjoyment was mirrored in the low sighs of pleasure intimately paired with his groans of indulgence while small and almost respectable thrusts led into her mouth, aiming for her throat. One alabaster hand snaked upwards to grip his thigh where it was quickly joined by one of his own; a silent gesture of appreciation and support. As much as he enjoyed the contact (and such contact was regular but that never seemed to take away from it), he released the ebony tresses he had gathered into his hand during the brief encounter and pulled his hips away. He left her mouth to a pout of protest but it was forgotten when her chin was taken in his palms and her lips claimed for the first time since that afternoon.
"Later, little dove." He promised, having drawn away just enough to speak. "You can have me later. But first, there is something extremely important that we must attend to." For the second time, she was released and resumed his previous venture: His dress uniform. Lucilla had only ever seen it on the hanger in the closet but never on his person; not even their first time on Starkiller which, for all intents and purposes, had been something of an event.
"We? And what might that be?" The female asked with a slight strain from where he had been positioned in her mouth. She had turned in her chair again to find her master had already applied fresh underwear (covering the still semi-erection), socks, suspenders and even shoulder pads as the base layer. At first, he didn't answer. He was too engaged with carefully unfolding the middle layer of his uniform. The trousers didn't seem to flare at the thigh as much as his usual ones but other than that, she could see no difference. The tunic seemed to fit more snuggly, giving the impression he was sturdier than he actually was but she assumed that was down to the shoulder pads. The belt he unfurled was not the one she was used to fighting with on an almost nightly basis. This one looked heavier and if she was correct, the plain silver buckle was wider than his usual.
Patiently, she continued to wait for an answer. She would not press him but it was not out of fear. Her General had seated himself on the bed with a set of long, wooden handled boot hooks and proceeded to pull on a set of boots that had come from the back of the closet. His everyday boots were pristine but these were even more so. She could almost venture to guess that they had never been worn. When he stood and walked a few paces (presumably to break them in), the leather creaked; much like the fresh gloves he had just covered his strong but pasty hands with.
Another greatcoat, a magnificent one of jet black Garber wool, draped over his form. On this particular occasion, he wore his arms on the sleeves, a habit he only sometimes embraced but from having his coat thrown across her while she lay on the sofa as he worked; she knew the material could overheat quite quickly. He passed something small from the pocket of his regular greatcoat into the new one and his look was completed by a crested command cap she had never seen before. He examined himself like a proud alpha in the mirror and when he was satisfied, he turned back to his precious companion.
"Have you bathed, little dove?" He bent down to push his forehead against hers and instantly, she felt the nerves but also the power. His eyes closed in relaxation; she was his only true haven.
"I have." She answered unevenly, tilting her head ever so slightly; not enough to disturb the position but enough to convey her curiosity. "Not long before you came back. My hair is just dry. Orion, what's going on?"
"We're declaring war on the Republic." He answered with the utmost confidence, the nerves disappearing when he opened his eyes and locked them with hers. "Well, we're going to strike before they can react." He took in the look of uncertainty that had ghosted across those lavish features and sighed. "Lucilla…." Hux was on his knees and with both her ivory hands clasped in the black leather of his. "Darling, I understand this is new to you but you must listen to me. I think I can speak for both of us when I say we want to raise our children in a peaceful and ordered galaxy, wouldn't you agree?" Lucilla nodded silently but the uncertainty had barely lessened.
"My rose, if we don't do this now; they will come for us. They will take me and they will execute me." His grip tightened at the tiny flicker of panic in her face but he continued. "They will take you and, little dove; believe me when I say I don't want to think of what they would do to you. The galaxy needs to be led by those who know how to lead it; by those who know how to instill discipline and structure. If this continues, if the Republic is not brought to task, there will be no peace. As it is, we are teetering on war but with this one act, we can end it before it begins." Hux knew Lucilla's grasp of politics was limited. He told her what he wanted her to know and he felt it was imperative that she believed this. Mainly because he believed it.
"Lucilla, I want you there at my side when we make the galaxy a safer place for our family. And not just ours. For the billions of families across the galaxy that have no voice under the tyranny of the Republic and their barbaric attack dogs in the Resistance. We must help them because no one else will." She seemed more convinced; he could see it in her face. He relinquished one of her hands and reached up to stroke her cheek instead. "Will you help me, my Empress? For us? For our children that are yet to be but will be? For those with no voice? Those people will need a gentle guiding hand and I know the one I'm holding is the one they wait for." It was a lot to process but ever loyal, Lucilla nodded again; if a little numbly.
"I will. I'll do it for you. I'll do it for our little ones and I'll do it for those oppressed." Hux rose and released her hand but kept the one on her cheek in place. He bent down to her placed the sweetest kiss to the tip of her nose.
"Your birthday present." He murmured, seeing little reason to raise his voice beyond that. "Change into it. All of it. I'll be back for you in an hour."
He was true to his word. Approximately fifty-five minutes later, the main door to the living quarters slid back to admit him and she was already waiting. Her General stopped a few feet and took her in; exceptionally pleased with what he saw. Her birthday present from a month or so previous consisted of a dress of deep garnet Dramassian Shimmersilk encasing in tightly on her delicate chest (enough to feel though not enough to hurt) but flowed out around her legs and swept the floor behind her when she walked. Or at least it would; she had yet to wear it before that day. The layer upon layer of the thin, supple material was of the highest quality; he had gone to extreme lengths and cost just to acquire it. And that was just her dress.
Her ears, her neck and even her hair were adorned with scarlet stones; no effort or expense had been spared for her birthday and indeed, he had intended for it to be worn when the time to use Starkiller finally came. Said stones, exquisite Fire Rubies, had been blood mined from the moon of Lothal, no doubt to the great pains or even death of some unfortunate laborer. But her General paid no mind to it; his Lucilla was breathtaking and if someone lost their life for those gems, so be it. Whether Lucilla knew it or not, the jewels (set in Platinum from Goroth Prime) were significant in the early days of the Galactic Empire; their sheer value alone meant only the elite possessed them.
The wives and mistresses of high ranking officials and even Emperors had worn them before her and she would do the same. Not that she would be a mistress or a companion for much longer if he had anything to do with it. More to the point and Lucilla wouldn't notice this until she got to Starkiller (if she noticed it at all), but the black cloak of Tomuon cloth combined with the raven of her hair and the burgundy of her dress suggested she had been purposely dressed in the colours of the First Order.
The dress would not retain an awful lot of heat since the Shimmersilk was so incredibly light but Tomuon Cloth was a strong, yet soft fabric made from the wool of the Tomuon of Askaj. Around the hood and on the sweeping end, the pleasantly heavy material was trimmed with the whitish-grey fur of a Jakobeast. It seemed the General had sought out only the finest, rarest and extravagant materials (barely) available to piece together what struck him when he thought of Lucilla and Starkiller together. The combination of the fabric, wool and fur would certainly keep her warm on the icy terrain.
"You look magnificent. Look at you." Almost breathless, her General closed the distance and his darling Lucilla's face was grasped once more. Needless to say, her hair and her make-up were just as immaculate as the new outfit; how she would be expected to dress as the wife of a General, let alone an Emperor. Not that he had let on anything of such intentions just yet. She had spent enough time in front of the mirror since he left her to know how she looked. His colder lips pressed to hers though the gesture was not a lasting one. "Come, we're on schedule; I'd like to keep it that way."
"Where is Mitaka?" Lucilla allowed herself to be let go of without protest. "My bag…."
"You don't need a bag; we'll be returning tonight." He pledged, extending his arm to her and she, as always, took it obediently.
As always, Lucilla drew subtle stares wherever she went at her General's side. His possessiveness had not abated even a little and the crook of his arm did pinch hers slightly though it was hardly intentional. A collection of officers (including the chrome Trooper that had brought her to the General's quarters on her first night) waited as Lucilla and Hux entered the shuttle first though Mitaka was not among them; she managed to steal a glance around the spacious seating area despite the weight of her hood but he wasn't there. Her face was visible if one could look closely enough but it seemed the purpose of the flared hood was to cast a shadow.
Her General left the shuttle first after the short trip to Starkiller but only to help her out before the other officials. Due to the overwhelming natural cold of the base, several heaters blew warm air into the docking bay but the heat had been increased by a brief com from Hux's office back on Finalizer for when she disembarked; the thought of his elegant Lucilla braving the cold for any longer than she had to plucked at his indignation. On the few occasions that the companion visited Starkiller, she was always escorted to their quarters first so her General could work without distraction. Now though, their path strayed nowhere close to where she usually went.
The officers following tried to pay no mind to the way their leader clutched the arm of this easily breakable creature with devotion and care. They pretended not to notice the way he would lean down close to speak to her or how his free hand would often cross over to touch her face whenever they came to a stop for whatever reason. She was clearly important but it seemed he knew well enough to keep his work and his private life separate. And she was the epitome of his private life.
"It's about to get very cold, little dove." He told her with a considerate murmur as they approached a curtain. When it was pulled back, the icy waft of a breeze hit and Lucilla tensed temporarily though she had to keep in step with her General's pace. Preoccupied enough with her nerves and her escort's form blocking her, she was still to extend her attention to the enormity of where she actually stood. Without fail, eyes settled on Hux's companion but one gaze particularly pricked at her. When she followed it, her pulse and the heart that pushed it almost stilled.
"What is he doing here?" The dainty female dropped her voice and did all in her power to resist the scrutinous glare but it was as piercing as the brisk chill caressing her face. Curiosity flashed in her General's air for a moment until he followed her eye-line. Eyes narrowed, nostrils flared and fury glowing at the smug condescension of the elder Hux standing with a select few of his own officers (including Colonel Damten) and watching the companion like something predatory. Whoever gave them clearance to land would find themselves in exceptional trouble.
"He will be left nowhere near you, little dove; I promise. None of them will." How he kept himself contained was still a mystery but the best course of action seemed to be to soothe Lucilla rather than getting riled up. The dark haired darling was put standing close to but apart from Captain Phasma, she was separate from the Order to a degree but her ensemble suggested she was not too far removed from it. Lucilla's hand was taken in his own and lifted to his lips for his officers (and to irk his father) to see before he crossed the short distance to Captain Phasma. She watched as unreadable words were exchanged though the chrome Trooper did divert her helmeted sight to the companion for scarcely a second and a nod of understanding and acceptance satisfied the General. Only when he went to take his place at the front of the podium did Lucilla look and when she did, the view was terrifyingly awe-inspiring.
In what looked like a rally, thousands of Stormtroopers stand below, seemingly organized neatly into their squadrons; all clad in their pristine white armour and none besmirched in any way. If it weren't for the defining grey of the mountain range, she could have sworn they were part of the snowy landscape. Tie-Fighters, officers of varying ranks (only indicated by the differences in their uniforms), a diversity of vehicles and huge, billowing red banners made it an impressive but uneasy spectacle. At least for Lucilla who had never experienced anything of this nature before. Of course, the cold still jabbed at her and caused her to pull her cloak tighter around herself while still doing her utmost to ignore her purchaser to her left.
She knew this speech inside out. He had laid his head in her lap and edited it as she stroked his hair and encouraged him, told him truthfully what she thought. When it was completed and he was satisfied with the end result, he would mutter it in his sleep until it was drilled into his sleeping companion also. The speech didn't sound like much when it was uttered like a sonnet but now…. At the head of thousands of his soldiers and officers, before his waiting supporters and loyalists, it had a far more in depth meaning. Particularly when it was roared with passion and vigour, bouncing off every surface and being absorbed by each Stormtrooper.
"Today is the end of the Republic!" The first line chilled her; not with fear but with pride. Her master. Her General. Her lover. The one that would bed her that night while the stirring rhetoric echoed in her mind. He had begun evenly and calmly but the more he listened to himself and became enthralled by his own propaganda, the more he seemed to rile himself. "The end of a regime that acquiesces to disorder! At this very moment, in a system far from here the New Republic LIES to the GALAXY while secretly supporting the treachery of the loathsome Resistance. This fierce machine which you have built, upon which we stand, will bring an end to the Senate! To their cherished fleet! All remaining systems will bow to the First Order! And will remember this... as the last day of the Republic!"
The last line was received with the clattering of armour from thousands of Stormtroopers; no cheering or hollering simply silence broken by that eerie sound. An ominous humming started to drum somewhere in the background or from all around or from beneath, it was difficult to tell. Hux restrained himself from looking back; his troops needed to be safe in the knowledge that his focus was on the task at hand and such a mammoth task it was. The humming seemed to grow and intensify and crescendo until it was deafening. Lucilla flinched at the noise to her sensitive ears but then the devastating order came.
"FIRE!"
The scraping and clamouring of countless sets of armour and even more boots erupted in unison at the command to face the other direction; the outright pageantry was to be admired if nothing else. Like every other head, Lucilla lifted hers to the sky (without disturbing her hood) and the constant humming was joined by a more high pitched and sinister rumbling. In that instant, something erupted. The skyline over the snowy terrain was turned to blood if only for a few seconds. The trees shook and the snow melted in the time it took for Lucilla to draw a gasp. The beam soaring towards the sky didn't seem real. But the sudden burst of heat and force from it grounded her in reality. The backlash caught not only her master's coat but her own cloak and the heavy material dragged at her until she took a step back to support herself.
Lucilla couldn't see the wild burning of power in her lover's eyes nor could she see the beam reaching into space and beyond Starkiller. She could not see the implications of her support, her loyalty and her pride. Nor would she be able to. The little dove wouldn't hear the screaming, the panic, the desperation of mothers trying to shield their children or husbands trying to buffer their wives when the sky on Hosnian Prime and its moons turned to crimson. She was safely away from it; as safe as she could be, in fact. This was to safeguard the family she was going to have and to bring balance to the galaxy. Or so she thought. She had no idea that this act was the beginning of a war to be fought and not one avoided.
So when the somber silence resumed and the sky returned to white, her General only wanted his companion. Lucilla's tender form was clutched and his lips pushed hard to hers under the hood while the Admiral looked on in disgust. She held his side with one ghostly hand and rested the other on his chest; a dismissal to the elder Hux. I'll touch your son if I want to. As though relieved of pent up longing, he pulled away and cradled slight form within his arms. All of this was for them. For their children. For their life together. To be unquestioned in their rule side by side. He didn't need to say anything; as far as they were both concerned, he had just done the ultimate to secure a future for them and what would be theirs. Lucilla, however, pulled herself as close as she could and with genuine and true joy and reverence, murmured:
"I'm so proud of you."
((I wanted Lucilla to be heavily pregnant on Starkiller just to add to how fucked up it is but we can't have everything we want!))