Booted footsteps echoed, eliminating and muting every other sound in the deserted hallway; an unusual thing in the usually busy palace...
Suspiciously deserted even…
As if… the staff that routinely flooded the various arteries had been specifically warned to avoid the area.
Slowing his step, Kylo Ren soon realized the hallway fell short of as deserted as he initially assumed; the assessment thrown off when two figures entered through another doorway, deep in conversation. One, he recognized of course as the Grand Marshal, his ally and rival in more than the redhead knew. The other… He did not know the other.
Or so he thought.
"Ren." Half a greeting and half a confirmation that the Supreme Leader was, indeed, within the Grand Marshal's sight, the redhead blazed his trail right for his darker counterpart; followed by a (so far) unfamiliar General.
"Grand Marshal." Ren acknowledged, keeping true in his step and applying the dignity of the title that Hux had not granted him; a graciousness he had learned from his besotted watching of the Empress. The two parties converged eventually, allowing Hux to gain a few steps ahead in a bid to introduce his colleague. However, as the distance closed, that became less necessary. Sort of.
"Ren, this is-"
"I know you." Ren intercepted flawlessly, breezing past where Hux had rooted himself to encroach on the other dark-haired man himself. The minute clues of curiosity almost compromised the confident steps; the steps that drew short of the General he had advanced upon with near predatory focus. Dawning clarity placed the man before, placed him on Finalizer, being thoroughly abused by Ren himself. Mitaka, however, seemed not as daunted as either expected; surprising even himself. "Last time I saw you, you were a Lieutenant. What happened?"
"General Mitaka has proven himself far beyond standard rank advancement." Hux, as per his (irritating) habit, interjected, just as Mitaka unhinged his jaw to speak. It fell on purposefully deaf ears as Ren's coupled interest and disinterest intensified. Strong and confident, despite still feeling inadequate in the weight of a General's uniform, the former Lieutenant met him head-on without the fear that had suffocated him before. Dopheld, however, was not about to let his superior (and, to be fair, his friend) speak for him. And, with what he had heard, perhaps it would be a more favourable answer to the Supreme Leader than the banal procedure of rank; something Ren was not really known to give a shit about.
"What the Empress wants, the Empress gets." Simple, but effective and delivered with a semi-solidaristic sureness; enough to test the waters but not enough to be impaled. It seemed to work, and Ren relaxed though his intrigue remained piqued.
"She does, doesn't she?"
The three powerful men (albeit, one trailing behind the other two where influence and status came into play) fell into a casual step together, in no particular hurry; a sinister powerhouse en route to something that would prove to be satisfying brutal. Or brutally satisfying. Whatever the case, they meandered towards it with comfort and peace of mind.
"The fact that you're still here, General, tells me that you know what's going on." Triple stride unaffected, the tallest of the three with abilities his compatriots could only dream of broke the next bout of simmering silence. Mitaka, his presence dictated by more than loyalty to the Empress and previous services, cocked his gelled head to the expectant glare of the dreaded Kylo Ren.
"I'm the bait, Supreme Leader." Before any further inquiry could be made or for Ren to expose a vulnerable deepening of his curiosity, Hux spoke up but without evoking too much irritation this time.
"You will recall from our com call, Ren, that Commander Bray voiced some concerns to me on his last night in the palace, the night Colonel Damten died in the only manner he deserved: His throat slit like an animal." The glance between two career military went unnoticed. Apparently, Lucilla had caved and revealed the assassin to her husband; now shared in dispatching the unassuming Mitaka as executioner. What they were doing at the time was only for them. Ren's mind, as it happened did not stray far from that track.
I remember the com call alright. And I'll never forget that night either.
"What about it?"
"Those concerns centred on a transfer; a transfer from his command on Lothal to a more tempting and comfortable position aboard a specific Star Destroyer." He paused, savouring how things had fallen into place. "General Mitaka's Star Destroyer."
"Apparently, Risorgimento is a somewhat coveted posting." The most junior in title, rank and age elaborated, chiming in from Hux's side; peering around the redhead to the dark, brick shithouse of a Supreme Leader. "The opportunity was too good to waste. Once the Grand Marshal learned of his interest in being placed under my charge, he contacted me immediately and our plan was set in motion."
"Risorgimento…" Absentmindedly, and fishing in his brain for the source of the recognition, Ren sucked on the name; like marrow from a bone. He remembered being impressed and recollection soon followed. "The Kelevine Straits mission."
"The same, Sir." A recent mission. A notably successful one with Mitaka at the helm. Naturally, and it may well forever be the case, rumours (concocted by bitter parties) swirled of it being a setup; a set up to paint the inexperienced Mitaka in an undeservingly competent light. However, knowing the Kelevine Straits as a natural pilot, Ren would disagree strongly to the contrary. It meant strong and intuitive leadership; something not readily happened upon by his observation of the First Order as a military institute.
"Difficult terrain. Not easy to ferret out fugitives if you don't know the landscape."
"Very true, Sir."
"Nicely done."
"Thank you, Supreme Leader."
"The General serves as more than mere bait." The love-in had become too much, and Orion submitted to the need to insert himself once more; the outside looking is often a cold place to be. "I'm not sure how much personal time you spend in the Empress' personal chambers, Ren, but you may or may not have noticed the human skull perched atop Lucilla's vanity table." Unsurprisingly, he had; the macabre artefact that stood out against the perfume bottles, skin creams and various other products that Ren would never understand.
"It's difficult not to. But I know nothing of it."
"That skull belonged to the man that abducted, trained and sold Lucilla to my father. When I decided that I no longer wanted a pleasure slave, but a loving companion, partner, later wife, I dispatched General Mitaka-"
"I was still a Lieutenant at the time."
"I sent him to the compound to track down the slaver in question, a man named Varden, for retribution on Lucilla's behalf; for a symbolic prize."
"I killed and decapitated him myself. Had his men shot, the girls freed, then burned the compound to the ground." Smug, and fondly reminiscent, he may have forgotten himself and the official company he kept but Ren, morbidly fascinated, did not seem to mind. Only naturally so when the seemingly meek disposition upon meeting this man had misled Ren to something else entirely. "I stripped the flesh from the head with a chemical dip, left it to dry then polished it for Miss Lucilla."
"As vile as it is, I think it may well be one of her favourite gifts. She likes to flip it the middle finger occasionally; particularly during her pregnancy and early motherhood when she closely resembled a brooding hen with aggression to match." Hux bemusedly imparted. "Varden aside, Mitaka was also responsible for Colonel Damten's timely demise at Lucilla's behest."
"What the Empress wants…" Dopheld hummed, harkening back to the first words he'd spoken to his former terrorist; the darker twist on them uniting their cause.
"Impressive, General." At least he wears the fucking coat with his arms in the sleeves.
"Much obliged, Sir."
"Commander Bray."
The blonde, anxiously seated, swiped his gaze to the source of the address, then rose in dignified greeting of the two officers entering; one he expected, the other came as a pleasant surprise and a good omen.
"Grand Marshal."
Brimming with elated confidence (presuming all would go his way, the false web of security weaved flawlessly to entice him to it), a gloved hand extended but for the slightest bite of a second, Orion hesitated. Why would he want to shake the hand of someone who had violated his wife? Well… Knowing better than he did last time? However, playing to the ruse and before suspicion could begin to thrum, the redhead accepted the gesture and returned it; albeit perhaps a little harder than he ought to have.
"General, what a wonderful surprise!" Mitaka, Orion observed, did not exhibit the same hesitation when presented with Bray's hand but took it gladly and enthusiastically; internally salivating at the welcoming of the prey.
"Well, I would have done a serious disservice to both myself and my command if I hadn't come to meet you in person!" Dopheld replied avidly, the handshake yet to extinguish. "With everything the Grand Marshal has told me, complimented by your very impressive record, I would have kicked myself to have missed this opportunity!"
"General, I'm sure the Commander would like his hand back."
"Ah. Yes. Of course. Forgive me, I'm just so thrilled you reached out. Please, sit down."
"I followed the Kelevine Strait incident with great interest, General." Bray, seat reclaimed, began; launching himself with full fervour into his "future" commanding officer's arsehole from the comfort of his chair. "A more seamless, streamlined offensive does not exist in First Order records. I only wish I could have been there for it myself, Sir."
"You will be for the next one, Commander, don't you worry about that! And Maker only knows what we'll achieve with you on the bridge!" Faux (but extremely believable) excitement undampened, Dopheld indulged in his usual habit upon a palace visit and what would be expected during an officer's social such as this one: Whiskey. "Well, would you look at that…" Bottle in hand and examining it fondly before pouring, Orion could not be sure if it were part of the act or not. "She sent down my favourite whiskey. You know, that's one thing that never fails to stun me about our Empress…" Two measures in hand and retreating to the armchair opposite, his fawning prattle unhindered though ever watchful for squirms of discomfort.
Bray, heartily accepting the glass of whiskey he was handed in supposed camaraderie, showed no such discomfort but remained incriminatingly silent where agreement on Her Grace's kindness should have been a given.
"She's so thoughtful, so kind… She really remembers those who have served her, and her repayment is always two-fold; a reward you will never forget. It makes our Grand Marshal an exceptionally lucky fellow!"
"Are you married, Commander?" Hux cut in, taking a glass for himself; though it would be little more than a prop to deepen the so-far oblivious Commander's fabricated hospitality. "Someone special who may delight in your relocation as much as you will? And… Did you mention promotion, General?"
Cue the scandalized, protesting reprimand from the other armchair; overkill, in Orion's opinion, but there seemed something so satisfying in luring Bray into the warmest comforts of bliss before snatching it all away. After all, he had come hat in hand to plea for relocation, so imagine, instead, to find the commanding officer of his choice fawning over him! It boded well. Extremely well indeed.
If only he wasn't so. fucking. dense.
"You ruined the surprise, Grand Marshal!" Tutting softly at his superior's "slip of the tongue", Dopheld's painstakingly gelled head shook without disturbing a single strand. "Forgive the Grand Marshal, Commander, he's as delighted at your discovery as I am. He has an eye for talent, you see, and so, he just couldn't resist asking me here to share in a glorious find such as yourself. Ask and you shall receive, isn't it?"
"Yes, Sir." Bray replied, exuberantly matching Mitaka's sip; gullibility abound, swallowing every doting word with the whiskey. "To your question, Grand Marshal, Sir. I have been married for the past six years. My son is five." Attachment? Sentimentality? Paternal or spousal pride? No. No to all of it. A stoic mere statement of fact, the least emotion he had exhibited since their arrival. He was married. He had a son. Nothing more, nothing less.
To top it all and add insult to injury, he had been a father and husband when he included himself in the savage gang rape of a helpless young woman.
"A son! He might make a fine match for the Princess one day, wouldn't you say, Grand Marshal?" Of course, Orion detested the idea. His literal and figurative Princess being in any way associated with this vile creature? Not in a million years. And if he didn't break any potential suitor's legs (not that Lilia would ever be subject to such a demeaning and obsolete practice), Mitaka certainly would. And Ren… Ren didn't bear thinking about. But…
"I couldn't think of anyone better, especially if he is anything like his father." Despite almost choking on the poison of the words and the widening grin of gleeful incredulity (that he simply could not wait to see crumble), Orion forced himself on. Enough of this, I want those names.
"Tell me, Commander, have you ever met the Supreme Leader? Surely someone as impressive as yourself has come up on his radar too?" Mitaka, out of Bray's eyeline squirmed with excitement, the toying coming to a delicious crescendo; even more so as the blonde faltered.
"Ah… No. No, I've never had the pleasure-"
"Well, if you give me a moment, we saw him lurking nearby on our way here, didn't we, General?"
"We did."
"Truly, Sir, it's not-"
"He's rather obsessed with the safety of the Empress and the Princess, he's always skulking around the immediate vicinity of their quarters. Just one moment-" Before objection could spring forth (it had already been born in Bray's mouth and died suddenly in his throat, expression telling), Hux disappeared.
No words. Not a single utterance.
Unnecessary. Pointless. Futile.
Ren had been seething in wait, he did not need a verbal cue, just the stony appearance of his daughter's unwitting stepfather before he swept into brutish action.
"Supreme Leader, it's an hon-"
Kylo Ren's mood had not changed in the vein of conversation.
As a matter of fact, the immediate presence of and audacity of this cretin had worsened it considerably; a point he illustrated with little reservation. Not only was Commander Bray unceremoniously thrown back into his chair after rising uneasily in respect of his Supreme Leader, but painfully driven back into it in the extreme and held there. It all happened so quickly, the Commander had neither the time nor the capacity to so much as yelp.
"How do you intend to go about this?" Hux asked dispassionately, removed from Bray's rolling eyes and struggling breaths with something akin to boredom; the severity of the Commander's restraint probably unnecessary. Mitaka, on the other hand, looked on with an unsettling amusement; interested and curious to watch the ill effects of the Force happen to someone else.
"I need to locate the memory." Already, he dreaded it; witnessing the violation of his beloved Empress and mother of his child without being able to intervene or lessen the trauma; it was too late for that. However, Ren took solace in his role in the retribution. "Then I'll force the names out, I won't know them to name them, he'll have to do that. Be ready to record them."
"Then what are we waiting for?"
Boots respectfully and considerately left at the door of the royal apartment, socked feet padded the sacred pilgrimage in the dark; scarcely lit by the dying embers of the living room and the habitual candles of the bedroom. That, with his curtains still tied back, could mean only mean one thing: She was expecting him.
Not unlike the night before and the night before that with normality returning, Orion glanced fondly over his shoulder as he undressed. Trust his little dove to sleep so peacefully through something so heinous; knowing or not, complicit or not, agreeable or not.
He had done it for her. Her and the little one she curled up with, oblivious of his presence. With one less Bray in the galaxy, it ensured his wife would be avenged (with more to follow) and his daughter, without the father to influence the son, would not be a victim like her mother. In an extra layer of protective, preventative provision, Dopheld had taken it upon himself to declare his sponsorship of the boy's military education and career in the wake of his father's "accident".
In near-complete darkness, the redhead decided to join the two biggest motivators of his day to day: His wife and his daughter. Uniform of Grand Marshal shed, and that of an ordinary father and husband adopted in its place, Orion Hux pulled the tassel to unfurl the bed curtain of his side and settled into where he had ached to be through the whole ghastly business. He had, after all, just shattered this ideal for someone else, snatched a husband and father away (if Bray had ever reduced himself to affection and the weakness that came with enjoying family life) but… it mattered not. Not when he had what he wanted. What he needed. What Lucilla deserved.
As much as suffering had been intended (and inflicted), the drooling, spasming, convulsing mess that Ren had reduced Bray to, his mind broken, made the dispatch a necessity; a mercy killing, if ever there was one.
Shuffling across the vast expanse of a royal bed, his chest completed Lilia's parental guard; her father on one side, her mother on the other. Even with the child between them, he had enough of a height advantage to lean over and press a soft, lasting kiss to his beloved's head.
Vengeance, or the beginnings of it, made the kiss sweeter; even if she did not stir to share in it. He opted to stay like that, usher himself into paradisaic slumber buried affectionately in Lucilla's ebony locks.
And who knew? Perhaps by morning, Mitaka may have word on when he might have his blonde trophy.