No one could ever describe the General as docile. He was patient because he had to be, not because it was any sort of virtue he willingly possessed, but one he taught himself. He was rigid, ordered and rigorous in every inspection, protocol and even in his scarce off-duty hours. To look at General Hux, to listen to him and watch every move he made; one could successfully determine that the man had nothing else. That was true for almost his entire to life to date…. Save for one year. Just one year. One year that when he retired to his quarters in the evening, he was loved. In that one year, his demeanour had not changed much from the usual but one would barely notice little fleeting moments of something akin to happiness. One hour before his shift was due to end, Hux would become almost fidgety; as if the clock striking set off an automatic reaction of involuntary shifting of his feet with impatience and his eyes to hurry the minutes faster.
Some officers did note their superior staring off into uncharacteristic nothingness, seemingly blank in his stare, his expression and indeed his entirety. While it may have appeared the General had shut down, his mind was working, almost in a frenzy and that could happen at any time but some found it most common in the morning. The cogs in that flawless machine of a brain clicked into patterns that went something like… "Is she asleep?" "Has she eaten?" "Is she reading?" "Has she bathed? Is the water hot enough for her?" "Does she miss me?" That all changed after Starkiller. He didn't ask himself those questions anymore and to think of her had been torture. It still was. In fact, he still (foolishly) asked himself the last question; as if to twist the knife. He convinced himself long ago that she didn't but like an insistent child, he still asked.
He still stared off into the vast depths of the galaxy, watching the black studded with diamonds beyond the thick glass of the Finalizer's windshield and even that reminded him of her. He remembered how she stared listlessly out the window of Starkiller on her first visit there, distracted enough by it to not hear him return. On another level, he caught every star winking at him; he watched them glitter like the diamonds he would have ensured she had or indeed, whatever gems she desired if she desired them. It was one of these trances that Mitaka found himself trying to gently wake the General from, loyally trying to keep his voice low to avoid drawing attention to him as his alertness had faltered.
"Sir?" As if there was a small, irritating insect buzzing near his ear; Hux's head seemed to twitch ever so slightly to relieve himself of it, but found his Lieutenant instead. The intense, mute stare conveyed his attention had been snatched. "S…Sir? The squadron has returned. The search has been fruitful with a number of confirmed and suspected Resistance members seen frequenting an active orphanage on Yavin 4." Yavin 4? He could see no visible connection to the planet; what it might have that others wouldn't but it certainly gave him a stab of smug satisfaction when he realized the cowardice of hiding among children.
"Good. Load the data." His bidding was done and the monitor nearest to him began to instantly fill with diagnostics and information that pleased him to no end as he turned to regard the monitor carefully. "Prepare a squadron." Mitaka retreated with the usual reverent murmuring of "Yes, sir." Finally, they had something after so much nothing. It had been two years since he lost his beloved Lucilla and from there, he did his utmost to submerge himself in his work, only surfacing in the privacy of his quarters where he could wallow in self-hatred and loneliness without disruption. It seemed anything that he could remotely link to her (unwillingly) provoked thoughts he would rather not entertain in the presence of his men but it seemed turning up Resistance activity after so long did the trick. Involuntarily, he found himself recalling that night two years previous when he returned to Finalizer without her. He remembered Mitaka waiting though the subtle glance behind him would always stay with him.
"Sir? Where is-?"
"Gone, Lieutenant. Forget her. She's not coming back." Cruel to be kind, or so he told himself and not just to Mitaka; Hux himself needed to believe it too. If only he had the benefit of blindly believing she was dead like Mitaka did…. It mightn't hurt so much then, despite the supposedly numbing passage of time which he could now confirm was a lie to ease the broken-hearted.
"Y'know, if you needed help, you shoulda called sooner!" The olive skinned pilot jested in time with the quick clicks of his boots on the ramp and down into the rough, trademark hug of his uncle as Finn trailed uncertainly behind.
"I know you were busy off saving the galaxy." Keir clapped the smaller male on the back; he hadn't changed much. "You didn't have time for an old fart like me but now you've no excuse!" Poe had lost both his parents, Keir had lost Lucilla and loss had gelled them together until Poe realized the need to pick up where his parents left off; fighting for freedom from the pilot's seat of an X-Wing. And of course, Keir let him go. "You brought a friend?" Relinquishing his nephew, he got one of the brief, rewarding glances of his sister lurking beneath in her son's smile; sometimes Keir only got flashes of her but cherished it when he did.
"Yeah, I did. This is Finn." Closing up on Poe's side, Finn took the worn hand he was offered with a strong shake of his own; a gesture clearly appreciated by Keir.
"The Stormtrooper?"
"That's me, sir."
"You're very brave, son. Not everyone would do what you did and I'd have lost even more if you hadn't."
"Thank you, sir."
"Drop the 'sir'." Finn caught the 'Told you so!' smirk from Poe and he did have to question himself; what had he been worried about? Playful and understanding, Keir seemed to be an older extension of Poe. "My name's Keir, there's no need for 'sir'."
"What're we here for?" Poe chimed, taking the next slot in the conversation before someone else could. "Something you want us to take a look at?"
"Yeah, you could say that." Keir replied, scrubbing a dirty hand into the bristles on his chin before starting into the house with just a simple nod as indication to follow which both did. "I found something. Something that's been missing for a long time and I thought you'd like to see it." Unjudgmental of his meagre surroundings, Finn simply looked around with interest until he felt the others stop where they found themselves in a living room of sorts. Cold, shabby and probably not the cleanest; it was still someone's home to be respected and Finn intended on doing just that. Lost in conversation, Poe should have noticed the creeping smile sooner than he did. He should have noticed that Keir was no longer looking at him but rather looking past him; however, when Poe did tweak it and turned with curiosity burning in his bones, that burning turned to ice. "You alright, Poe?" Keir asked with gentle jesting. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
For a long time, Poe said nothing; he simply stared. With so many things buzzing in his skull, all vying for his attention, it seemed staring was the most stable solution for now. She was six when he saw her last and he fourteen but he recognised her instantly and it was Poe's turn to receive the 'Told you so!' smirk from his Stormtrooper companion. A few uncertain steps were taken forward towards the pale-skinned, dark-haired vision and his incredulity seemed to only make her own smile stretch further. In a mutual instant, the cousins broke the careful marking of each other to embrace for the first time in eighteen years. Poe tried to be careful; her frailty had not escaped him but the desperation to have her close again won out.
"I can't believe this!" He choked, biting back tears simply for bravado's sake as the clinging hold continued and his heart threatened to burst. "Lucy? That you? That really you?!"
"It's me." She answered, soothing to contrast though she was barely more collected than the pilot. "I'm alright."
"What happened to you?" Urgency had broken through and though he still held her arms, he had drawn back to monitor her face which had fallen into maddening melancholy.
"That is a conversation for another time." Amicable and docile as always but it was impossible to ignore the veil of trauma after her initial hesitancy to answer. "Let's not taint this with that darkness but I will tell you when the time is right. I just need you to be patient with me."
How does one expect children to react when their home is attacked and their only sanctuary destroyed? How afraid must they be when their only guardian, the one that had fought to win each one over individually, is taken from them in a barrage of white armour and red blaster shots? Terrified. Those screams reverberated, almost tangible in the otherwise agonizingly silent interrogation room and there was no blocking them. Failure. That seemed to be the only feeling in an otherwise stunned and numb body; none of it felt real. How had this happened? Dinner time went off without a hitch, bed time was as smooth as always and then, they descendedwith the darkness. Tens, dozens, hundreds; it was impossible to tell with the flurry they arrived in and the record time that they tore the orphanage apart, leaving petrified and injured children in their wake. All there was to do now, was wait.
Mitaka hovered at the entrance to the bridge, hesitant to deliver the news as if it were Kylo Ren he was delivering it to and not his even-tempered General. The shock had yet to wear off but he needed to press on regardless. Forcing one foot in front of the other, he crossed the threshold from the corridor and into the usual hive of activity in the central and most important hub of Finalizer.
"Sir?" The flicker of cold blue eyes confirmed the presence of limited attention and now that he had begun, he had to finish. "Sir, the squadron scoured the orphanage but found no Resistance affiliates." The response was subtle; a displeased twitch of the jaw which spurred Mitaka on to reveal the better half of the news though he could not bring himself to give the whole truth. "They did, however, apprehend the woman running the orphanage. They believe she may be able to-"
"Escort her to an interrogation room and I will attend to it shortly."
"She's already in interrogation room 4, sir. But….." The "but" earned him an unimpressed swivel on his superior's pristine boots which prompted the younger male to swallow painfully under an almost savage gaze. "I urge you, sir….. Proceed with caution."
Proceed with caution. The words echoed in his mind as his boots ironed his stride into the steel catwalk leading to the interrogation rooms. What did that mean? He had terminated the conversation after that vague warning, awaiting no explanation nor did he hear Mitaka attempt to offer one as he walked away. Hands clasped in the uniform rigidity behind his back, the grip seemed even tighter on this occasion as the unknown bade for him. Was she aggressive? Was she hysterical? Was she Force-sensitive? He could surpass all of those things with little difficulty; after all, she would have been disarmed when she was brought on board while he made it his business to always carry a blaster. He would find out what he needed to know, he always did.
Interview mode clicked into place as he waited for several doors of a secure nature to slide back to admit him until he came to the one guarded by two armed and ready Stormtroopers. Proceed with caution. It resonated with him again and for some reason, he couldn't shake it; as if the advice might actually be useful. Hux, however, proceeded as boldly and confidently as he always did during his work hours and this interview was just that: Work. The advice was more valuable than he could ever have expected and he only realized it when he found himself face to face with a very familiar bundle of dark curls and pale face of breath-taking features that haunted his dreams chained the interrogation chair. As though suddenly drenched in cold water, the General's skin became littered with goosebumps as those magnificently unique eyes heightened to her former master, lover and current captor. Crippled with disbelief, he inched forward into the light where she continued to watch him without fear; he wasn't sure why he expected her to be afraid. He paced for a few seconds with a fascinated gaze trained on her, unwavering and took stock of the mild injuries that had no doubt been awarded in the struggle. Split lip, bruised eye; yes, those seemed familiar.
"Lucilla….." That prayer-like name he often found himself uttering in only his own company had a deeper purpose this time and someone else to hear it. What else could he say? At a loss, he remained shaken but rooted to the spot in utter bewilderment as the staring match continued; one side was meek and (to a degree) relieved for a prayed seemingly answered while the other maintained a bold hold where ill-forgiveness still bubbled.
"So…. You found me."