Tales From the Finalizer

By: Lena (Airelle Vilka)

TALE ONE – Game, Set, Match

Part II of II

"THIS is what you're wearing?"

Hux sighed, already regretting her decision to enter the transport. "My outfit is perfectly acceptable."

"Yeah, for a funeral, or one of your stuffy meetings." Her sister, blindingly bright in a gold dress, gestured to her own outfit. "I was hoping you'd at least look like you had fun outside of work."

"I am never outside of work, Kevyn," Hux bristled as they took off, heading outside the base and into the city. "The only reason I'm here is to make sure you stay out of trouble."

"Who in their right mind would touch the General's own sister? And by the way, you could have sent any of your underlings," came the sly response. "Yet here you are."

Hux fought the old habit of rolling her eyes. Few people could get on her nerves, let alone get away with it. Kevyn was ten years younger, a seductress and socialite, and their father's favorite. Where Emmeline was reprimanded for the smallest errors, Kevyn could have burned down the Academy without Brendol Hux batting an eye. Even years later, Hux thought it a bit unfair that her sister got to gallivant around the Outer Rim unchecked with a full complement of stormtroopers, with no grand plan other than to get herself into as many social circles as possible.

Still, with Kevyn's words fresh in her mind, Hux couldn't help appraising herself in the dark window of the transport. She had switched out her black work shirt for a white one, high-collared with an intricate lace front. It was buttoned all the way to her neck and pinned with the spiked symbol of the First Order, a gift from the Supreme Leader himself. Her black dress pants and jacket completed the look. At her sister's insistence, she left her hat behind and let her hair down instead, the blood-red curls stopping just above her shoulders. Overall, it looked impressive, suitable to her station, and most of all...

"You're not gonna get laid looking like that, Ems," her sister smirked, taking a drink from the bar in their private compartment. "I'm just saying."

Hux glared. "That is most certainly not my intention tonight. In case that wasn't abundantly clear."

"Hmm." Ignoring all protests, Kevyn reached over to tousle Hux's hair, her ample cleavage threatening to escape her dress. "That's too bad. I hear this city has many decent-looking men. I'm sure not a single one could refuse you."

"Due to my rank," Hux replied stiffly, smoothing her hair back into place. "A rank which, by the way, does not allow for fraternization. It is against Order rules, it upsets the power balance, and places me at great risk to boot."

Kevyn grinned. "Listen to yourself. 'Upsets the balance?' And what risk? Not like you're marrying them, and unless the guy has a blaster attached to his-"

"Enough," Hux waved her arms. "I don't need mental images on top of my headache."

Her sister fixed her with an appraising look, one that even someone with Hux's stoicism had no choice but to fidget under. "When was the last time you bedded a man, huh?"

Hux arranged her napkins, viciously, in a perfect square shape. "That is none of your business."

"So, like three, four years then. Seriously, what's the point of achieving so much if you don't reap the... fruits of your labor?" Kevyn giggled, downing her drink. "If you were a man, no one would bat an eye."

Hux looked up at her sister. She was beautiful and looked so harmless, but a closer look into the blue eyes that matched Hux's gave a very different story. Hux had heard whispers about her sister, about those who'd wronged her, about what might lurk beneath the mask of the free-spirited socialite. Nothing proven, of course. Kevyn's gaze grew serious, and for just a moment, Hux saw the ruthless streak she knew was there, the streak that blazed through everyone in their bloodline.

"Fuck the life out of them, Emmeline," she said. "You're on top now, and they all belong to you."

And just like that, the fire was gone, and Kevyn was herself again, golden and glittering. Hux sighed, finding herself suddenly glad that her sister had never been interested in politics.

"Never one to mince words, are you?"

"Learned it from someone older and wiser," Kevyn winked. "Ah, we're here!"

Before Hux could protest, she was summarily dragged out of the transport and into the brightness of a street lamp. When her eyes adjusted, she found herself at the threshold of what looked like an old hangar. Lights of all colors sliced out of the windows into the night sky, and the music was deafening even from here. People milled about, laughing, some leaning on each other. The unmistakable scent of alcohol and perfume assaulted her nostrils, and Hux wanted nothing more than to climb back into the transport and return to the comfortable sterility of the base, or even go to orbit to rejoin the Finalizer as it underwent repairs. She saw it in the sky, huge and inviting, and felt a twitch of longing.

"Come on, Ems!" Kevyn tugged on her jacket. "Don't be so stiff, this'll be fun."

Kevyn's private guard, dressed casually but with very visible blasters, silently filed out of the transport and started to follow. She waved them back.

"Oh, we'll be fine, boys," she grinned, winking at Hux. "I have the best protection imaginable."

Hux sighed for the second time that night as she followed her sister into the hangar, and into the roar of the crowd.

She had never felt more exposed.

The hangar had been converted into a nightclub of sorts, with an enormous central floor surrounded by observation platforms connected by staircases. Hux's boots clanked on the metal steps as she ascended to the top deck. The entire city was decidedly Order-friendly, local businesses supporting the enormous planetary bases and industries. Here on the ground, the atmosphere was more relaxed than on the dreadnoughts and destroyers; off-duty soldiers and officers mixed freely with the locals. Hux noted, grudgingly, that this was probably necessary. Outside the highly regulated space of a Star Destroyer, the lure of the city, and local "delights," was too much. It was easier to send the soldiers for reconditioning rather than forbid all outside contact while on-planet.

Still, there was contact, and then there was ... this.

She made it to the top level, her blaster comfortably close inside her jacket. She could see Kevyn at the bar, already putting the moves on a man who'd caught her fancy. Hux positioned herself high above the dance floor, her sister always within sight. Kevyn's guards had also made it inside, positioning themselves at the perimeters, close enough to intervene should the need arise. She breathed deeply, trying to calm her natural paranoia around so many unknown people, uncontrolled variables.

I should have just sent someone else to watch her, she thought, and immediately knew it to be a lie. Kevyn may have run around unchecked across half the Outer Rim, but when she was here, she was still Hux's sister, and this place was still outside the base. Her grip tightened on the railing, her eyes scanning the crowd, looking for potential threats. But all she saw was a throng of dancing bodies, some in clothing she recognized as military issue, others in standard ensembles, others bright like Kevyn's, and still others with barely any clothes at all.

Two levels below and to her right, a group of men caught her attention. They sat around a low table, drinking and laughing. How anyone could hear themselves, let alone anyone else, she could not fathom. They wore dressed-down uniforms, the collars and jackets opened, their hair intentionally disordered. Hux thought it looked rather sloppy, especially for officers, but the women with them didn't seem to mind. They were locals, quite pretty and petite, and decidedly in the "barely any clothes" category.

Captain Phasma was in the center of the group.

Hux recognized her immediately, for the captain, even out of her trademark chrome armor, was an impressive woman. Her shock of closely cropped blonde hair and sky-blue eyes stood out even in the gloom. Well, that, and she was built like a freezer unit.

She watched Phasma whisper in the ear of one of the women, who giggled and climbed onto her lap. The captain rather casually draped a huge arm around the woman's waist, gently rubbing her thigh as she continued her conversation with the men. Hux raised her eyebrows, filing the information away for another day. She knew Phasma was on-planet, but assumed she was on the base, as she seemed to share Hux's devotion to work.

Yet here we both are, she thought, turning her eyes back to the floor. So much for one-track minds.

A waitress carrying a giant tray of identical drinks motioned in her direction, and, after a moment of hesitation, Hux took one. Although the chance of poisoning was small, she prided herself on calculated risk-taking. She removed a small pill from her pocket and dropped it into the drink. After a few seconds, it dissolved and the liquid faded into a pleasant green color.

Purple means poison, green means go, she recited and, with a mental shrug, took a sip. It was stronger than anything available on the Finalizer. It seemed to be a local brew, the most popular menu item, probably for its potency rather than taste. Grimacing, Hux took another sip, feeling the liquor burn through her veins. The music was much more tolerable this way, the roar somewhat dulled, along with the paranoia.

Her fingers fidgeted with the pin at her throat. The air was hot, heavy with sweet musk, and for a second she wished she could be as unbridled as the people below, dancing away in the maelstrom of light, as if there were no rules to make, no planets to govern, no order at all.

She shook her head. Not me, she thought. Simply can't be me, ever.

Staring thoughtfully into her drink, and the shining figure of her sister on the floor below, Hux didn't notice the man next to her until he was talking.

"Some party, huh?"

She turned her head slightly. He was tall and handsome, dressed in military black which, to her great surprise, was immaculately buttoned. Hux didn't like strangers or small talk, but his smile was so pleasant that she didn't move away as he continued.

"Although things can get a bit crazy in here. People out of control and all."

"I bet," she replied stiffly, gripping her drink as if it were a lifeline. This was more Kevyn's forte. Hux preferred work to social functions, avoiding them like the wastes of time they were.

The man's smile widened as he casually leaned on the railing, inches away from Hux's forearm. "And you're not one of those people, are you?"

A voice inside her head answered, no, but I'd like to be. It urged her to be invisible, to pretend she wasn't Emmeline Hux but someone else, someone without rank or station. Someone who could flirt with this man, touch his arm, and ease herself into the warm pool of being enjoyed by another.

But after a moment, Hux came back to herself. The disarming tone, the charm, the ease with which he thought he could snag her, sent her into a simmering fury. Who did he think he was?

The words tumbled out of her mouth before she could think, her voice a shard of ice. "Do you know who I am?"

His response was immediate, unfazed by her tone. "A beautiful woman I'd like to talk to."

Hux was so shocked by the candor that she faced him completely now, the bubbles in her drink dancing in the multicolored lights. His clothes were First Order issue, so he had to know her identity; every soldier had seen her speeches.

"Cut the crap, officer," she snapped, glaring up at him, willing him to cower. "I'm not in the mood."

Once again, to her surprise, he didn't flinch. "You're also General Hux, commander of the Finalizer, and the highest ranking officer of the First Order's fleet." His brown eyes shone with amusement. "But by your clothes and location, you are not here on official business."

Hux stared at him.

"Hence," he continued, "I reiterate... a beautiful woman I'd like to talk to. Assuming she doesn't shoot me for my audacity."

Despite herself, Hux tried not to smile, and turned away to face the dance floor again. "That's a rather large assumption."

Just within her peripheral vision, he nodded. "It is. But you haven't done it yet, so I'm clearly winning."

"Clearly," she agreed, shaking her head in disbelief. Whoever he was, the man was persistent. If his boldness weren't so ridiculous, it would be flattering. Then again, Hux had not fraternized in this fashion for a long time; perhaps she was out of practice, or had encountered an exceptionally brazen specimen.

He gave her a half-bow, the formal version of an officer's salute. "Lieutenant Ravin Prentiss, of the Destroyer Arcana. You look different from the holovids of your speeches, ma'am."

Hux raised her eyebrows at him. In response, he made a sweeping gesture with a large hand, indicating her outfit. He had long, elegant fingers, she noticed.

"No hat, no insignia, and your hair... It's no wonder most people in here aren't aware of your presence," he said. "Or they're all drunk. If they knew, I imagine they'd behave better."

They looked out over the balcony, watching Phasma's group get more rowdy and loud. Hux sighed. "I doubt it, Lieutenant. Besides, my mission tonight doesn't include babysitting my subordinates."

Silence reigned for a while, and Hux almost thought he got bored when he spoke again, his voice taking on a sly tone. "Does it include dancing?"

She nearly spit out her drink, turning to him again in shock and more than a little trepidation. "Are you serious?"

He grinned, rather sheepishly. "As the grave, General. Might be my own grave, but when I saw you walk in, I had to ask."

Hux looked down. Below her, Kevyn was dancing with the man she'd chosen, looking like she was having the time of her life. But this was her world, not the world of Emmeline Hux. She wasn't the type to lounge in a dance hall, drinking and contemplating close proximity to a man she didn't know. A man who had, in the intervening moments, gotten much closer than before. He didn't seem dangerous, at least not in the usual way. Still, Hux paused.

"Why?" she asked, her sister's instruction to 'reap the fruits of your labor' dancing in her head.

"Lost a bet to my buddy," he shrugged. "Also, curiosity. I imagine you are a fascinating woman. I wanted to get to know you before someone else did."

She eyed him crossly. "That's a big risk if you know my station, Lieutenant Prentiss. It would be unwise to disappoint me."

He nodded. "I never said I was smart. But I'm counting on, at the very least, not being a disappointment."

"And how," she asked honestly, looking up into his face, "do you propose to 'get to know' me from a dance?"

His eyes darkened, brown melting into black, and Hux's stomach fluttered with a heat she hadn't felt in a while, an insistent little thing, pleasant like wine and just as insidious.

"Ah, now that's something I'd have to show you," he said slowly, offering his arm. "So much can be learned without any words."

You're not afraid, are you? Kevyn's voice said in her head. Or was it her own voice?

The combination of alcohol and intrigue was a potent one. Besides, if he tried anything, she could always shoot him. Hux downed her drink in a single gulp, and took the proffered arm.

"Lead on, Lieutenant."

Within the press of bodies on the dance floor, Hux noticed no one except him.

The song had mercifully changed to a slower one, pouring out sensuously over the crowd. It seemed to be about love, and obsession, the latter of which Hux definitely understood.

"It can't be unlearned, I've known the warmth of your doorways..."

The touch of a warm hand at the small of her back returned her to reality. He was close to her now, his other hand grasping hers, his solid body fluidly leading her where he wished. From their proximity, she could tell he was well built. She remembered her fight with Kylo Ren, and his inhuman strength as he nearly choked her to death. Unlike Ren, however, this man's power was mitigated, gentle. Hux almost wished he'd held her tighter.

"Through the cold, I'll find my way back to you..."

The lights had dimmed slightly, throwing his face into shadow. Despite the huge crowd, being in his embrace somehow felt intimate. His hair and outfit blended into the gloom, making him anyone and no one, as if she were dancing with a specter. Hux could see herself reflected in his eyes, a small bright spot winking in a sea of black. Momentarily, she wondered if anyone had noticed, if they were watching. She found she didn't care.

"Oh please, give me mercy no more..."

"Have you learned anything so far?" she asked, leaning closer so he could hear her over the music.

He laughed. She plucked out the rich, deep timbre from the cacophony of sounds, feeling it sink into her bones, setting her nerves alight.

"I'll keep you posted on my progress," he replied, and the heat in his tone was unmistakable. Hux wondered if this was what her sister went through on a daily basis. She'd never allowed herself the luxury of imagining long-term attachments; the Order had seen to that. However... perhaps a short, discreet acquaintance was not entirely out of the question.

"It's a kindness you can't afford..."

She wanted to stop it, truly. People would be watching. Surely he couldn't have been the only one to recognize her. In fact, with just this one dance, she'd probably put him in danger. But Ravin Prentiss seemed like the type of man who could handle himself. And so, instead of turning away, she leaned into him, resting her head on his broad shoulder, her cheek scratching on his uniform. He smelled like smoke, and pine, and something entirely his own, a scent she could not pinpoint, but seemed somehow familiar, and she was inexplicably drawn to it. She inhaled deeply, and felt him smile into her hair.

"I want you baby tonight, as sure as you're born..."

She pulled back to look at him, their faces dangerously close now, breaths intermingling in the sticky air. She licked alcohol off her lips. He'd been drinking, too. Or had he?

The space around them buzzed. Her eyes were locked onto his mouth - what would he taste like? - and she was certain her hands would be shaking if she hadn't been gripping his jacket. It would mean nothing, this kiss from a stranger, given on a night that would inevitably end. And when it ended, Hux would return to the base, her work would go on, the Order would go on, and she would never see him again. But despite her knowledge that this moment was only a tiny speck in her existence, Hux was sure she'd die if this man kissed her.

"You'll hear me howling outside your door..."

Her voice cracked, barely more than a whisper as he leaned in. "What about now? Have you... learned... something?"

His soft lips brushed hers, the gentlest of touches, like a spring breeze. But beyond it was a precipice, leading to a chasm filled with black fire. There was, indeed, something quite dangerous there, something she could not entirely place. But she looked over the edge, and wanted very much to leap.

He drew her closer, not completing the kiss but instead pulling her entire body to him. His leg parted hers, dragging her center along the solid muscle of his thigh, drawing her flush with him. She was pulsing with energy, apprehension and heat rolled into a delicious tension. She could not imagine what she could feel if that one touch turned into something more, what else he was capable of. His hips rolled slowly into hers, banishing any coherency.

"Yes," he replied, lips still ghosting across hers.

She was very glad he'd lost that bet to whoever it was... that was the reason he'd spoken to her in the first place, wasn't it?

Lost a bet, her thoughts crawled lazily. Very glad indeed.

He bypassed her lips, moving to her ear, his dark curls brushing her face. "I have learned a lot, Emmeline."

Hux froze, hyperacutely aware of everything, as if she'd just awakened. His warm breath at her ear, the swell of the music, the pounding of her heart, and most importantly, the rapid-fire thoughts assaulting her drugged brain.

Emmeline.

The way he'd said her name. Only one man had done so in recent memory, and he'd said it exactly the same way. While choking her.

He lost a bet.

Lost a... bet...

...To me.

Hux remained still, her core still very close to his body; she knew he could feel her, even through the fabric. Her cheeks would have flushed if the blood hadn't fled them in shock moments earlier.

You.

He still held her close, nuzzling the shell of her ear, taking his time to speak. His voice sounded amused because he knew her thoughts now, of course he knew.

"This was very educational, General," he murmured. "An insight into... character."

And with that, Kylo Ren pulled away, his eyes pitch black, and a most arrogant smirk on his face. Hux gaped at him as their bodies separated, feeling jolts of rage, disgust, and also unhappiness at the loss of contact, which her mind tried to quash furiously. She opened her mouth, and closed it again. No speech seemed forthcoming, so she thought at him as fiercely as possible.

I will kill you for this, you son of a bitch.

"I've kept my word," he said. "I do hope it was everything you expected. Have a good evening, General."

And then, he smiled and faded into the crowd, and she didn't remember her blaster until he was well out of sight.

A few minutes passed before Kevyn found her sister in the middle of the dance floor, staring toward the door. People continued to dance around her, but she was a statue, her arms wrapped around herself, her hair in slight disarray. It was a very unnerving sight, and Kevyn touched her arm.

"Ems? You okay?"

Hux's eyes were closed, and Kevyn realized she was speaking something under her breath. It sounded like "unbelievable bastard."

Just before going to the bar, she'd seen a man dancing with her sister, a tall stranger with long, black hair. But he was gone now, and Hux looked unharmed. Possibly.

Just as Kevyn was becoming worried, Hux opened her eyes. It was almost comforting to see the blue gaze, clear and sharp. A smile crept over her face, and she shook her head.

"I'm fine, Kev."

"Who was that guy?" Something was definitely going on here.

Hux turned and took her sister by the shoulders, beginning to sway to the music. Still wary, Kevyn followed along.

"An old colleague of mine," she replied casually, her tone completely back to normal.

Kevyn glanced at the door, as if expecting something. All she saw was the sea of people, blinking in and out of the pulsating lights. She raised one eyebrow. "Uh huh."

"And a superb holo-chess player," Hux continued, still smiling, but the smile did not quite reach her eyes. Her First Order pin was slightly crooked, but she made no move to fix it. "In fact, I think I'll seek him out again. It's been a while since I really played."

Kevyn wasn't convinced, but allowed her sister to keep her secrets. She was an important person, after all. And heck, she thought as they rejoined the dancing crowd, at least she looks like she had fun.

END OF TALE ONE

Author's Note: Did you see it coming? ;) Kylo had to fulfill his end of the bargain, but he did it in typical dark side fashion, turned it around so that Hux was the vulnerable one when he revealed his face to her. Hee hee. Also, I was feeling poetic... so during their dance, each of the first five paragraphs after the song lyrics is related to the five senses: touch, sight, sound, smell and taste. What song were they dancing to, you ask? Hozier's "It Will Come Back." It's a super sexy song, and yes, in my mind Hozier is famous in a galaxy far far away, lol. Oh, and before you think to yourselves, 'but where did Kylo learn to be so charming?' I would tell you he has the right genes for it. You scruffy nerf-herders. ;)