General Hux's eyes are red and irritated. He wipes at the tears that spill out, a response to the too bright light. The suns on this planet are too large. He feels like he's under interrogation lights just standing here. There's also the issue of his skin; it will burn a Tandgor gem red which will fade into a starfield of freckles. He doesn't plan to be planetside long; Hux has always felt more comfortable above planet where he can keep an eye on the comings and goings of the galaxy from a better vantage point, but there are always going to be the occasions where his physical presence is necessitated. Hux tells his skin to be patient - the ground transport will be along any minute to take them into the facility.
He's accompanied by some troopers (only a fool would travel without protection when their life's work is so important) and two First Order lieutenants. He likes to oversee everything personally which, considering the expanse of his tasks, explains well the perpetual dark circles beneath his eyes and his constant intake of coffee.
The transport arrives and without a word, the small group climbs in, the troopers' boots loud upon the metal. The facility is huge by necessity and it has a hive-like layout, clusters of soldiers in different stages of development, but each separated by long intermingling-discouraging corridors, some of which are externally accessed only. It is imperative that the troops never be alone. They must always see themselves as part of their unit, and then, part of the First Order. The self is not to factor into their transport is slender but long and it is open air so it provides no defense against the UVB rays injecting themselves into his skin. When the transport slides into the building, Hux's eyes take on the duty of adjusting to the difference in brightness while he goes over in his mind where they have entered. Memorizing the schematic of a location this size is no small feat, but it was completely imperative and so he did. There are three landing bays and their ship brought them to the central-most one, Desert Bay. From there, they travel through the main receiving area which is used primarily for cargo, but also for troops returning from deployment, towards the Orange Command Hub.
One of the many things that Armitage's father Brendol had firmly believed was planning for all contingencies. It is from his design that this building was constructed. Those participating in the program, overseers, tacticians, instructors, programmers, maintenance crews, all of them are only permitted to congregate in a firmly maintained maximum number. There are six different sleeping areas for administration, all located towards the outer perimeters of the complex. Should the training completely fail, which is as close to impossible as anything, the trainees would not be able to effectively revolt against the programmers. To further decrease the chances of this occurrence, trainees are discouraged primarily through physical distance and social correction not to form friendships/alliances with members outside their group. Competition being what it is, the trainees themselves have initiated rivalries, some becoming violent in rare cases.
Hux rotates which hub that he uses. It serves the dual purpose of his father's intention plus he likes how it keeps the administration on their toes, never quite knowing what to expect. He may not, even with his six-foot stature, inherently display an imposing figure but he has honed his image down dagger sharp. He takes pleasure in knowing that they will have to ask around as to where they're expected to go and then scramble across the large complex to meet him there. He's actually requiring the maximum allowed staff in the one meeting room. At present, the whole complex hosts 784 on-site staff. A small number compared to the 160,000 soldiers that are undergoing their training. It's impressive that Brendol's methods are so effective that such a small group can effectively control the personalities of so many. Hux has no difficulty admitting to himself that the same methods were used to a degree on him, since he's quite pleased with the outcome. He's glad that he's not one of the civilians that he sees unable to focus, living for nothing, afraid of effort and control.
The room, comprised of 60 staff, most programmers, stands at attention upon the arrival of Hux's retinue. The meeting itself is dull, as a lot of the finer details of his position tend to be. The only reason that he finds them interesting at all, is that he's capable of looking at both the minute and the grand plans. He can identify how one order to a lackey can make or break an empire, can be a pivotal cog in the universal machine.
First, they walk him through successes and failures resulting from modifications enacted following his last visit. He comments on these, offering alternatives in the cases of the failures, and noting, mentally and by way of recording robot, the successes to be used again in the future. The program has a very low failure rate, so it is unsurprising that at this visit they bring to him no news of any resistant trainees. There have been, in the past, but even for those, there is a protocol. If they're fully fledged troopers, there is a "re-education program," meant to reinforce what they've already learned. If they're still trainees, and if there is a failure in this area, it's usually during adolescence when hormones mislead them into thinking they are individuals with rights and unique perspectives and prospects, then they might be scrubbed from the program entirely. Better to toss out one bad Jogan fruit than to allow it to spoil all the others. The programmers don't make a big show of the failure's execution, so as to not increase any us versus them mentality. It's a quick blast to the head and then disposal. Again, this is something that happens rarely; most trainees can be salvaged even during adolescence with chemicals, though the program places these as an undesirable method. Behavioural changes are always preferable to just throwing drugs at the problem. They're out to create soldiers not addicts.
After this, the group discusses things, either policy changes or tangible items, that they need. The demand for blasters and blaster energy is always high, obviously, and the New Order can come by them, though not as readily as its predecessor, The Empire, easily. Food rations always remain the same, though occasionally, the programmers may ask that certain planets be contacted to expand on options for themselves. This time, they request that the Melahna system be opened up for potential food trade. Hux says that he'll look into it.
It's this type of minutiae that he must deal with before finally getting the chance to look around the facility. It's not an attractive building, not that Hux is looking for that element. There is visible tubing hanging from the ceiling and the walls do not always start at 90 degree angles, giving the impression that the world is slightly wrong, a touch askew. As with his last visit, everything seems to be in order. There are no crates sitting unminded in the cargo bays. No swaths of floor appear dirty, even in the dorms of the younger trainees. He stands in the back of one of the classrooms and observes a tactical maneuvers class. The children are disciplined enough to keep their attention focused on their programmer instead of the stranger in the back. He watches them tap notes onto their pads. Later, the trooper that he stops randomly in the hallway reacts to his questions in exactly the same way as his last spontaneous interviewee. It certainly appears that everything is how it should be here.
After confirming that all the items on his checklist are done, Hux leads his team back to the Desert launch bay, back to the great darkness that hides behind this planet's too bright suns. He luxuriates in the pride that comes from knowing that he completed all his tasks within only a four minute margin of what he'd estimated.