It is one thing to have the most technologically advanced, dreaded and mercilessly helmed warship in the galaxy named after you. It is another when you feel the same size as said warship.

But the routine anxiety had paid off with yet another comforting scan: all was going well and the guarding clamp of her hand could resume. Just over seven months in and Lucilla had, for the umpteenth time, declined to know the baby's sex. Boy or girl, that baby was hers; the other details didn't matter. She'd craved her own biological child for far too long to be picky about gender; not that to discriminate one over the other would enter her mind as a conscious thought anyway.

Orion though…. As Lucilla waddled her way back through the winding corridors of Supremacy with internal kicks tapping against her open palm, she had to ponder; what Orion would say and do. He had declared her once as the mother of his sons and while it had been enrobed in passion and sensuality at the time, it still resonated in her head.

What if the baby she carried was a girl? Lucilla would dote on her to no end, that was guaranteed but what about the baby's father? Would he be disappointed? Would he be bitter and distance himself; not just from the baby, but Lucilla as well? Surely though, that kind of mentality was typical in an Imperial man who married, not for love, but for the fruit of marriage that would carry his name? Sons. She could understand (she did not agree with it) that attitude if she, as his wife, was an arranged convenience with one purpose. But Lucilla was not.

Orion had begged her and pestered her to marry him, ever before it was possible for her to have children; surely that meant something? That if they came from her, he'd love them as he loved her? Be proud of them regardless? That was what she would hope for, at least. But with the recent power trip that came with launching the Dreadnought and Orion re-immersing himself in an Imperial powerhouse where those values were rife, she had her frets. That, and he'd stood by her, chest puffed, at the gala evening while her bump was fussed over by one eccentric woman in particular.

"That's a boy!" She'd proclaimed, loud enough for everyone to hear while she grabbed, uninvited, at the bump. "Look at the shape! Definitely a boy! I would know, I had four of them!" Lucilla cringed and worried at the memory. It played on her mind almost constantly and any time she thought she had the strength to voice it to him, she suddenly couldn't and promised herself another time. With just under two months to go until her due date (the medic had to explain to Orion that the baby didn't have a calendar device and so might arrive before or after that date), the another time-s were getting shorter in supply.

Deep in her musings, Lucilla arrived back to the apartment without realizing it. She'd passed several squadrons of Stormtroopers on the way and with a ship so vast, it was most likely that no Trooper had seen the heavily pregnant female twice. Naturally, she couldn't tell them apart to know if she had seen them before or not anyway. The mother-to-be made it her business to wander frequently; to do so meant the blood flow to her legs was regulated and she didn't suffer as much as she could have with swollen feet.

Plagued by her predicament and no resolve in sight, Lucilla found herself with her com in her hand. Maybe it was time to ask an expert.

With hours before Orion was due back from the bridge, Lucilla felt no discomfort as the connecting beeps trilled from one com device to another and gladly donated the patience it required. Her patience was soon rewarded, if a little abruptly.

"Ka'Vash, if you com me one more fuckin' time! I'll have it tomorrow, I'll com you when I have it!"

Lucilla, mildly stunned, took a moment to collect herself from the grip of surprise that has briefly claimed her body. Had she commed the wrong person? Checking the screen, it seemed the mix up was on the other end, not on hers.

"Papa?" Cue the bite of confused silence and the subtlest whoosh of movement as Keir checked his screen too.

"Lucy?"

She could barely restrain the smile at the note of disbelieving hope, so she didn't bother.

"Hello, Papa."

Blind to Keir's surroundings and his company (both were minimal), Lucilla, understandably, assumed that her father was busy.

"I know you're probably busy, papa, but-"

"No!" Keir's only daughter did not see the bite of a chapped lip or the anxious glance to ensure he was still alone and his privacy was not about to be encroached upon again. "No… I was uhh…. Thinkin' 'bout you. How are you?"

"I'm fine, papa." Between morning sickness, sore feet and an aching back, she wasn't as fine as she would have liked but in the grand scheme of things, she was perfect. Sitting in the apartment with her bump stretched out before her and a hand curled around it; if only he knew. It was the purpose of the com call, after all. "You're not busy, are you?"

"I could talk to you all day, sweetheart." Lucilla felt the tug of the smile again and the growing grandchild kicked, as if trying to elbow his or her way into the conversation.

Had Lucy commed a few minutes earlier, she would have done so in Poe's presence. Thankfully, her timing had been perfect but Keir's discomfort lay in checking the immediate corridor outside his room to ensure his nephew was, indeed, gone. Satisfied, he could relax.

Or could he? Keir knew of his daughter's fragile condition; knew because of spies, not because she saw fit to tell him. He could analyse that another time. But if she commed him now, the first time since leaving the orphanage, he may have been uneducated but he was no fool. As far as Lucilla knew (that Keir knew), Keir knew nothing of her pregnancy or her marriage.

"You a'right, Loo?"

"I'm fine." She replied, the voice of her own father soothing her, even though she had no idea she required soothing. Unfortunately, Lucilla could not discuss her impending parenthood with her mother; the parent whose experience would have mirrored hers the most. Instead, she sought the next best thing: her father. "If you're not too busy, papa…." Keir's ears cocked to the twinge of hesitation on the other end of the com; as if she wasn't strong in her conviction of what she was about to ask. "Would you like to meet? Dinner, perhaps? I'm not sure if-"

"Yes." Unlike his daughter, Keir had no reluctance whatsoever. "Tell me where and when, Luce, and I'll be there." Gratefully relieved that rejection was not on the cards, Lucilla brightened and the hesitation evaporated. "I'm on a tight budget though, little one, so-"

"Leave that to me." Resolute and with bubbling excitement, she readied herself. "I need something greasy, something indulgent. Some quiet diner somewhere, you would know better than I would."

"I think I know the place. I'll send the coordinates."

On the bridge, during his duties or in the midst of his personal hours, Lieutenant Dopheld Mitaka was always on call. When he happened to be beside his commanding officer, was no different.

"Yes, Miss Lucilla?" Not "Mrs Hux" or "Lady Hux", she would forever be "Miss Lucilla". It prompted the curious subtlest turn of his General's head, dividing his attention.

"Yes, Miss Lucilla." Mitaka half-turned on the ball of his foot and paused to listen; as if interrupted in an instruction that he was about to carry out. His eyes fixated on nothing in particular, absorbing the information with unquestioning and happy compliance. "Of course, Miss Lucilla. Right away, Miss Lucilla." With the com call terminated, all it took was a simple look from his superiour to divulge.

"Miss Lucilla requires the shuttle for a planet-side excursion." He explained, pocketing the com before the redhead intervened with his trademark interrogative demeanour; to fit into his usual persona on the bridge.

"And where is she going?"

"Coordinates have yet to be finalized, sir. But she said she will have a solid location by the time the shuttle is ready for departure." Mildly concerned (why wouldn't he be for his heavily pregnant wife?) but not enough to object, Orion conceded.

"Very well. Ensure she has a squadron to accompany her. And a medic." With the order given and pre-empting obedience, General Hux returned his full attention to his command. Mitaka, however, had his misgivings.

"Sir…." The nervous swallow distracted Orion once more, his patience finely tuned. "She has stated specifically to be unaccompanied on the outing. But she has estimated not to be gone for more than a few hours."

What could he do? He'd promised her freedom; planet-side or otherwise with the shuttle and a pilot at her disposal. Pregnant or not, that promise stood; despite the worry it might cause him. To completely overhaul their relationship from its original status, meant changing everything about it. Caging her was no longer an option.

"Prepare the shuttle." He directed quietly to a dutifully attentive Mitaka, bearing the promise in mind. "Inform me when she returns."

Keir waited, menu in hand but absentminded and unheeding of it.

Gilroy Plaza Diner was old territory. One of the oldest diners on Coruscant and a stamping ground for all sorts of shadow dwellers on both sides that dated back to before the Clone Wars. Smugglers, pirates, bounty hunters, to name but a few, all passed through its doors at some point. Which, incidentally, was how Keir was guaranteed discretion for the company he was about to keep; for her sake, not his.

He was going to be a grandfather, he already knew that. A grandfather to a child he would probably rarely see (if ever); those infrequent visits would more than likely be conducted in secret. Whether or not the child's father would know of those visits, Keir would not ask; he had been involved with enough illicit deals to know that much.

"Hello Papa." Keir turned quickly in his seat, the gentle touch to his shoulder from behind jolting him from his contemplation. He knew his little Lucy was pregnant but nothing could prepare for seeing it first-hand. His reaction could almost pass for real, initial surprise.

"Lucy!" Lumbering from his seat, Keir stared. The bump was far more prominent than it had been on the holo-footage; unsurprising, since proportions could sometimes be distorted by the not-so state of the art technology. Something remained the same, between then and now; the way she cradled it like the greatest gift. Mindful and remembering when his own wife was in that position, Keir ushered her into the booth opposite him; endeared by the way she waddled. "Sit down, sit down! Take a load off!"

The overpowering odour of cheap food and cooking oil did not dampen the strange reunion, impromptu and long-overdue. Lucilla's ecstatic beam illuminated the interior of the otherwise dingy diner and Keir made it his business to scrutinize her for any micro-clue of unhappiness: he found none.

"I…. Uh… Never knew…" He had to hope the lie would carry as he gestured across the table where the bump was hidden beneath the cheap, plastic top. "I think we have a lot of catching up to do?"

"I'm married now." She confirmed sweetly and coy, like a teenager confessing a crush. Keir allowed his features to melt into (what he hoped) was surprise and nodded enthusiastically to encourage her on. All the while being truly delighted to see her, of course. "Orion and I married on Naboo shortly after I left the orphanage. Thank you." Graciously, Lucilla took the menu her papa handed her and viewed the selection carefully.

"Three months later, I discovered I was pregnant, if somewhat prematurely." She interrupted herself with a similarly important matter. "The All-Day Breakfast has nuna sausage…. I need nuna sausage."

"Can't beat nuna sausage, love." Keir agreed, having selected his choice based on his budget but his voice carried a twinge of uncertainty. "But… how?" Lucilla's sapphire eyes lifted swiftly, on the verge of being taken aback before her father quickly clarified himself. "What I mean, sweetheart, is…. I thought…. Well…. You couldn't."

"I couldn't." She confessed and Keir's jaw twitched at the rawness. "Orion changed that for me. A wedding present that he knew I sorely wanted. And I couldn't be happier. What are you ordering, papa?"

"I think I'll just stick with soup, angel. I'm not very hung-"

"Papa, I'm paying for this." Looking up from the menu to face her father dead on, Lucilla had decided on the All-Day Breakfast but it was not her only choice. "Order what you like and I expect you to join me in dessert at the very least. Money is not an obstacle today." Lucilla's eyes lowered to browse the sides menu, for extras to add to her breakfast.

"Nah, Luce, I don't feel right-"

"Papa." The warning was clear and it stopped Keir in his tracks. "Order soup if you please. But do not order it solely because it's the cheapest thing on the menu. The steak sounds wonderful, why not order that?" Beaten, Keir ordered bantha steak and Lucilla ordered the All-Day Breakfast, onion hoops, potato strips and spicy chicken chunks; eating for two demanded variety.

"Are you happy?" Two spoons into the Special Dessert of the Day, Keir had to ask the question. Judging by how Lucy looked up, mid-chew, and mildly surprised by the direct nature of the inquiry. Unlike Keir, Lucilla had two desserts. "Is he good to you? D'you have the freedom you didn't have before?"

"I'm here, aren't I?" She replied, genuine and reassuring that reflected in her features, her demeanour and her voice. Another spoonful. "I want for absolutely nothing, papa, I mean that. He worships the ground I walk on and whatever I want, it's mine. This…." With her spoon still obsessively in hand, Lucilla indicated downwards; where the bump would sometimes graze off the table, depending on how she moved. "Is the greatest gift I could ever have received. He's the only one who thought it might be what I want and he fought tirelessly to make sure I have it."

Keir had to cement it for himself. True, he'd spoken to the General before; when Lucilla had been rescued from Tatooine and wanted nothing more to do with the redhead. The smuggler had sat and listened as a seemingly stony heart was poured out over his com of how much he loved Lucilla and wanted what was best for her. He had to be sure, now, that the General's priorities were the same as they were back then; that Lucilla's best interests were still his sole focus. Now, Keir had it from the tauntaun's mouth that his daughter had everything she could possibly want. More to the point, that Hux gave her the attention, love and devotion she deserved.

"I've missed this." Keir admitted, dislodging a fourth spoon of his dessert and shovelling it past chapped lips. "Bein' out together. Chattin'." Trying to make up for lost time upon her return to Coruscant was gapped at best in between Keir's runs off-planet; until she decided to accompany him one day and ended up on Yavin 4. "Why'd you com me all of a sudden, Luce? All this time, why now?" Not accusatory or angry in the slightest, but still, it caused a contemplative slow in Lucilla's chewing; admission time.

"I've been having doubts." Keir tensed; that didn't match with what she'd just told him. Before he could pry further, she continued without prompting. "About the baby and how Orion will receive it."

"You're gonna have to gimme more details, angel. Receive it how? I thought he wanted this as much as you did?"

"Oh he does!" Perhaps she was too quick to jump to affirming, almost suspiciously so; her serenity dropped as a consequence and was replaced with something akin to fluster instead. "He does but… Sometimes… Sometimes I worry that the baby's sex might be a contentious issue."

"And what is the baby's sex?"

"I don't know." Keir's head inclined, surveying his daughter sceptically; that didn't sound like something his little Lucy would pass up on.

"You don't know."

"At every scan, I declined to know the sex."

"Why?"

"I want a surprise." It was the truth but only one of two reasons why. "And I'm not confident in how Orion will react if it's a girl."

"Now we're gettin' somewhere." Keir laid his spoon onto an empty dessert plate and indulged in a sip of caf instead. "He doesn't want a girl."

"I don't know that for sure, he might." Far from finished her after-dinner treat, Lucilla seemed to have lost the enthusiasm for dessert with the topic at hand and so, her spoon also met the table. "But… With his surroundings and those he surrounds himself with…. There are certain values that they hold dear that might seem silly to you and I."

"Like havin' a son over a daughter." Lucy's eyes slid to the worn table top and stayed there.

"Yes."

"And you're worried that if the baby's a girl, that he won't love her?"

"Yes."

If he was truthful, Keir could see it happening. Having dealt with Imperials before, the sexism and elitism was rife, obvious, clear and unapologetic. If Hux had immersed himself enough with such people (Keir already knew he had from the launch of the Dreadnought), maybe Lucilla's fears weren't so unfounded after all.

"I'm gonna guess you haven't mentioned this to him?"

"No."

"You should."

"I know, but-"

"Does he love you?" Scandalized, Lucilla's gaze was hauled from the table to her father waiting patiently for an answer across the way.

"Of course he does!"

"Then you needn't worry." He countered breezily and one of Lucilla's more hopeful scenarios was recalled. "If he loves you and he wants children with you, it won't matter what they are. And if he was any kind of a man, he'd realize that. And anyway-!" He pressed on, egged by the watery and grateful smile. "It might be a boy, you mightn't need to worry at all! But you should talk to him, sweetheart. For your own piece of mind, if nothin' else. You ready to go?"

"But Poe is…. Well, he's Poe." So wrapped up in the answer, Keir sauntered on ahead without noticing his daughter lagged behind; not immediately, at least. "He keeps busy with that Stormtrooper friend of his, the one I'm not so sure is just a friend, if you know what I mean…. Luce?"

Eventually, it snagged that she was no longer beside him; rather, leaning against a filthy city wall. One ivory hand supported her weight against the permacrete, the other clutched the bump with a new severity.

"Lucy?"

"Papa…." Quaking and on the verge of tears or puking or both, Lucilla's ebony head dipped, sweat threatened her brow and her eyelashes flickered.

"Papa, I don't feel so good…."