The war should have ended that day.
They had the Resistance beaten down to pathetic remnants fleeing for their lives. The First Order had stood on the cusp of ruling the galaxy, while the Resistance hid in their hole, surely with nothing left to live for, nothing left to fight with, and nothing left to lose. By all rights the First Order should have won, but then Ren let himself get distracted.
Ren had delayed the attack so he could indulge a personal vendetta and play with some force nonsense that served no purpose in establishing peace and control in the galaxy. Victory had been snatched from Hux's grasp not so much as by the rebels' success but by Ren's failure.
By the time that fool who dared to call himself Supreme Leader finally allowed troops to enter the mine the Resistance had fled once again. Those cowards were always running. Predictable. Hux thought of the lone pilot who had faced down the dreadnought, and the empty ship that rammed the Supremacy at lightspeed. Perhaps not so predictable, and certainly not cowardly.
Now troops, officers, even Hux himself raced about in an abandoned mine, trying to snatch back a moment long gone. Kylo Ren knelt in the dirt, staring down at his empty palm, distracted once again. He took no notice that his enemy had escaped him, any more than he took notice of the First Order's purpose. Hux could only stand aside fuming over all his wasted effort.
Somewhere inside that empty mine a spark settled on him. He would use that spark to light Kylo Ren on fire, even if he had to burn the whole First Order down.