A/N: Four scenes where Hux works on how to make the project feasible and how to recruit people to help him.

"Hello? Colonel Chabren?" There was only one person in the lounge who fit the description Hux had been given – an older near-human woman with greenish-black hair and a colonel's rank. She nodded at him and gestured to the empty seat next to her. He settled in. "I'm Colonel Hux." (He did like having that rank.) "Thank you for coming to meet me. I suppose Dean Mulhale described me?"

"She did. You've been assigned to some high-level project?"

"Yes. That would be the case. I have been tasked with developing a super-weapon that may, if my preliminary calculations are correct, be an order of magnitude larger than either of the Death Stars. The dean said you were the only person she knew of in the Order who'd had any association with them."

"Them?"

"The Death Stars, as construction projects."

"Ah." She shrugged. "It wasn't much in the way of association. I was on a destroyer that did patrols during the early construction, but we were rotated out toward the end. I was stationed elsewhere when the battle happened."

"Well … you're the best I have. My questions are general."

She took a drink and tipped her glass at him. "The dean said you were buying. So ask them."

He nodded. "I have looked at the imperial records. The basic information is undisputed – that at one point the Death Stars weren't there. Then they were. There is a demonstrable number of years they must have taken to fabricate in between." He sighed. "Snoke wants to see this current project completed in five years. I'm trying to find out how feasible that is."

"What if it isn't?"

"Then I will tell him that."

She raised her brows. "I have heard he does not respond well to people telling him he can't have what he wants."

"I can tell you from personal experience that is indeed the case."

She tilted her head and took a drink as a server droid came to the table. "I am cheered that you are still with us, then. It disproves the rumors."

"Hm," Hux turned to the droid and reviewed the standard choices it came pre-loaded with. "Whiskey, neat. Put her drink on my account as well." It beeped acknowledgement, produced the beverage, and trundled off after he provided it the appropriate code cylinder. He sipped the liquor. It was about the same quality as his father's preference. "I suppose the rumor is that telling Snoke what he doesn't want to hear results in instant death?"

"Not instant, but yes. Supposedly, he's killed a few people in grotesque manners in front of others as an example to the rest of us."

"I don't doubt it. He does seem the type." He gestured to himself. "But as you can see, I am whole." He was resentful about that. There was not a scar upon him nor any visible injury he could point out to someone. But things had been done to him, things he preferred not to think about and he certainly wasn't going to admit to. "Back to my question – is five years ridiculous?"

"You want it be, don't you?"

"If it is, then he has no use for me and if I'm lucky I'll get to go back to my previous post. I strongly suspect I won't be lucky."

She leaned forward. "I'm not an engineer. I don't build things. I never have. But I can tell you that no one, no one, expected the first Death Star. Part of why the Rebellion happened is because no one believed it even existed. I'm sure there were rumors. But until Alderaan blew up and even for a while after, no one could wrap their mind around it. It was too big to have been built in secrecy."

She leaned back. "Then the second one. The Rebels believed it by then, but they never imagined it was that far along. What I can tell you is that it happened fast. Jerjerrod was a miracle worker and that was before Darth Vader showed up. I have been told production sped up even more after that." She dropped her voice. "Don't tell anyone I said so, but don't ever underestimate the Force."

Hux snorted. "That has nothing to do with it. I highly doubt Snoke will be involved personally. And besides, what can a few parlor tricks do? They might play a role in hand-to-hand combat or one-on-one encounters, but not a project of this scale."

She shrugged. "Believe what you want, then. What I'm saying is, if everything comes together just right, then things can be accomplished that nearly everyone in the galaxy thinks are impossible."

"Things never work right."

"Maybe so. You get the Force involved, and sometimes they do. Every blaster bolt you shoot at one of them magically hits their lightsaber. You fumble, you trip, you run into things. Your orders get misunderstood, somehow you steer your ship into another, the failsafe systems fail. You've heard the stories, right?"

"Tales to frighten children." He couldn't scoff, no matter that he wanted to. Too many of the older generation believed it for it to all be bunk. Hux wanted it to be. He shuddered at an unwanted formication on his back. "Like I said, parlor tricks."

She was unfazed. "Now imagine the opposite – everything works just right. Even when you make a mistake, it turns out to be the right thing. Happy accidents. Serendipity. People do the right thing without even being told. They're driven. Enthusiastic. Proud. Nothing breaks down, no malfunctions, no injuries, no slowdowns. That's how the Force works. If Snoke can turn that sort of power to the Order, then we will defeat the Republic."

"There has to be a limit to what he can put his attention on. I've seen him distracted."

"You asked me if it was ridiculous. I don't know that kind of thing. But I do know that when the Force is involved, the ridiculous can become reality."

"Boxy?"

"Yep?"

"Thank you for taking my call."

"Anytime, Armie. What'd'ya got?"

Hux smiled at the comm unit. The list of people he would tolerate being called such from was very short. Perhaps singular. Mitgann Boxbea was a disarming fellow and always had been, Outer Rim accent and all. "I have some questions about managing large-scale production jobs. You handle the installation for all the prefabricated bases the Order uses."

"Ah-huh? Yeah? You building uh … what'd'ya building? 'Nother farmworld maybe?"

"No. A planet-sized Death Star."

A moment of silence. "What for?"

"To blow up all our enemies at once."

Boxbea laughed like that was a good joke. "Yeah, right. So, uh, why?"

"Why are we building it? I already said."

"No, no. I mean, why … well, never mind. What did you want to know?"

"If I needed to finish such a project in five years or less, how would I best go about it?"

"Five years?"

"Yes."

"Hrm. Can you start with a Death Star-sized planet and just put a big gun on it?"

Hux was quiet for a moment. He hadn't thought about that. He'd been thinking of building the whole thing from scratch. But if he didn't have to … then why should he? "Yes," he said slowly.

"Good. That's way easier. How big a gun are we talking? Pew-pew or big bang?"

"Well, it's the reason I said planet-sized. It needs to be rather large."

"Rather … large." Boxbea chuckled. "Got it. You always were a fan of understatements. Your Dad – the opposite. If he said he was going to have fifty thousand students, he ended up with ten thou instead. So. Are you … you gotta give me more, here. Details, kid."

Hux rattled off dimensions and parameters. At the end of it, Boxbea said, "Your main problem is just excavation. That and building a superstructure. You need bots for all of that. Self-replicated construction droids. I got some contacts with what used to be the Techno Union I can hook you up with, maybe a few mining corps. But you gotta know those bots don't make themselves out of nothing. You'll need raw materials, more of some and less of others depending on what they can extract from what they're mining. You can't just turn 'em loose and walk away. You gotta stay on top of things."

"The droids?"

"Yep. You said five years, right? The only way to do something that quick is to throw money at it. Tons of money. Which means droids. You're not going to just drop three units on there and wait, either. You'd need to seed the place over and over. Come to think of it, you'll likely need to tap every mining company that will take your call if you're trying to hollow out a whole planet in five years."

"I thought you said the droids self-replicated?"

"They do, but do you have a grip on the scale here? A planet? In five years? You gotta go big." He paused. "Speaking of which, do you really have a planet-sized gun you're gonna shoot at the bad guys? Serious? Or are we just talkin' here?"

"I don't have one yet. But I will."

"Yes," Hux said into the comm after the standard identifiers were exchanged. "Please connect me with Operations Manager Daviosa Drewmill. I'll hold. Her staff is sufficient. If she's not available, I can book a time."

Several minutes of silence passed, which was not surprising. Even using hyperspace communications, she was several relays away. The shipyards she managed were not in the Unknown Regions so as to reduce the chances of outsiders working out the location of the First Order's core worlds. It was an arrangement that led to certain inconveniences, but was necessary given the flow of raw materials and occasionally outside engineers and scientists which were funneled to their ship-building operations. He rubbed at the bridge of his nose and reviewed his lengthy notes.

A crackle on the line told him a connection had been made. "Davie here." Technicians were often less formal about names and ranks than the military.

"This is Colonel Hux. I am-"

"Colonel?" she asked sharply.

"Yes."

"Ah. Kay. I thought you were a general."

"No, that's my father. He passed away some years ago." He considered saying something about the persistent lack of 'sir', but it seemed unwise when he was calling to ask a favor.

"Oh. He did? Sorry. I'm out on the edge of nowhere here. What's going on?"

"Yes. Well." He moved on to his prepared statement. "I've been put in charge of a large-scale fabrication project for the Order. I've heard of your work in setting up the Kuat-Entralla shipyards and overseeing construction of the Resurgent-class star destroyers. I would like to have the benefit of your expertise in suggesting possible team members I might include on my project."

"Ah. I … I wish I could help you, but everyone I thought was decent has been roped into my own 'large-scale fabrication project for the Order'."

"What would that be? More star destroyers? I would think that project would be mature." It was, after all, why he was calling her.

"Yeah, it is. But we're finishing out all the existing shells and then no more. Next up is a mega-class star dreadnought. Just starting the design phase."

"What … what is that? I've never heard of a mega-class."

"It's new. The goal is to take all the manufacturing capability we have in the Order as a whole and double it, building it all on a single, massive ship. Snoke's flagship."

"It's … a warship?"

"Not really. I mean, it will have guns, sure. But it's a mobile base. It's to be the new capital of the galaxy someday."

"Capital of the galaxy? That sounds rather ambitious." Hux had a sudden thought. "What is your timeline for completion of this vessel?"

"Four years. We start as soon as we push this last set of destroyers off the docks."

"Four years? Not five?"

"No. Why would it be five?"

"My project is five. You'll be finished a year before mine. Snoke … has a plan." Missing his deadline would not only mean his own project was in trouble, but it would likely have ripple effects on the entire Order. 'Capital of the galaxy'. Snoke was putting a great deal of faith in these projects. It wasn't a collection of whims, but rather a coordinated effort.

"Yes," Daviosa said. "He has to. I wish I had five years instead of four. It's going to be tight as it is. The drive yards are already howling. I'm sorry, but you're going to have to go poach your team from somewhere else. If they're worth their tubes on ship-building, then I've already got them locked down for me."

"It's just one ship. Four years for one ship?"

"It's a big ship." He could hear the grin in her voice along with the pride. "Do you have any idea how much detail work is involved in this? This baby's going to support millions, along with everything it takes to keep them going forever. It's not supposed to be simply space-worthy, but finished out. That's a big deal, Colonel."

"Surely you've already worked most of this out on the Resurgents. The whole point of them was to obliviate the need for resupply on staples."

"Yeah, we have. That's why I'm hanging onto my people. They know how to do this. They're not going anywhere unless Snoke says so. And trust me," Hux could hear the smile in her voice turn unfriendly, "I'll fight you on that. Your people make the team. I've got the best ones in the Order and I'm keeping them."

"I need help putting together a team." Hux sat in the office of Manager Avedann, Personnel Specialist. A warrant officer, essentially, although technician ranks didn't neatly cross-reference, especially when dealing with the upper levels of a specialty.

"How big a team are we talking about?"

Hux pushed over the list. "To start with? A few hundred." Her brows climbed. She tilted the screen to review it. "Eventually, thousands," Hux said quietly.

"What are you trying to accomplish?" She looked at him with confusion.

"A Death Star. Or rather, a star killer. You see, we take negative energy from a stellar body and transform it into a phantom state, then project it through a focusing collar into hyperspace-"

She held up a hand in surrender. "I'm not technical. I do people. Not the other stuff."

He scowled at being interrupted, immediately wondering if he was wasting his time here. "I need you find me people who do that 'other stuff'."

She blinked at him blankly for a moment, letting the pause hang between them before saying, "I can do that."

There was something about her delivery that made him wonder what someone with twenty years experience in the First Order's most horrific personnel situations might have seen. Hux decided he not only didn't want to know, but might have come to the right person after all. He smiled thinly. "Good. Are you able to take on a project of this magnitude? I know the Order is in 'transition' at the moment and I'm sure that falls on your department as much as any."

"My department's first priority is providing the appropriate support staff to Leader Snoke. But I've heard your project mentioned. There is an awareness that it will have staffing needs of its own." She set down the datapad. "Do you have anyone pre-selected?"

"No." He noticed she wasn't answering his question. "You see, the ones I've consulted with in the past about this project were on the staff of Thrawn or Sloane and they're both gone. The best minds outside of that have already been assigned to other projects. I'm sure Snoke isn't looking for second-string. If you're telling me I'll be competing with him for resources, I would appreciate you being blunt about it."

"No, Snoke is not looking for second-string. He has very particular requirements though, which exclude many who might be good candidates for you."

"What requirements are those?"

"You were selected by him."

Hux's brows drew together slightly at how vague that was. "Yes. And?"

"For obvious reasons, Snoke is a bit lacking in a human touch. His initial screening process is difficult to pass."

"Oh." Hux blanched as he remembered that first meeting. He leaned back, as close to physically recoiling as he would allow himself. He recalled also what Colonel Chabren had said of some people not surviving dealing with him. "I understand."

"So." She moved on briskly. "Are you open to recruits from outside the Order, or is this internal only?"

"Any. I've already been in touch with a prefab installation contractor we've used for some of the Downworld structures. He's an old friend of the family and discreet. But I haven't approached him about hiring. We'd need complete confidentiality for the entire term. After that, well, we'd have to see. Permanent recruits are best."

"Have you talked to the Downworld governor or the council of deans about recruiting out of their graduating class? That's another group Leader Snoke isn't interested in that you could use. With a project this important, you could pick whoever you wanted."

He nodded. "I honestly hadn't thought about them, but you're right. They train well. I'm very familiar with their qualifications. There are a few I've already worked with on small things or been an advisor to them."

"When do you need these people?" She pulled over the datapad and looked at it again. "This is a good list. Very thorough. I might make a few additions."

"Now, if possible. Everything needs to be in place in five months. The clock is ticking. I've already spent precious weeks reaching out to those I knew and defining the scope. It is clear to me that if I spend all my time recruiting people, then I don't have any time leftover to work with them." He paused for a moment. "I can't do it all myself."

She looked up at him over the datapad and smiled thinly. "None of us can."