As I settled into my new surroundings, I also settled into a new routine. Since droids brought all my meals to my room, there was very little opportunity for human interaction. Though I sometimes heard them using the holocom in the briefing room, I saw neither Ren nor Hux during my first week there. However, I did locate the private rec room further down the hallway.

I stretched out my sore muscles after a warm shower. It was late morning, and I was already bored out of my mind. The books that I had been eyeing for a couple of days caught my attention. Approaching the shelf, I turned my head sideways to read the titles.

Book of Sith. The Cosmic Force. Lords of the Sith. Of Fire and Rain.

"Oh, wow," I breathed.

I sat on the couch with The Cosmic Force. It was a difficult topic to comprehend, but my insatiable curiosity kept me going. When my lunch tray arrived, I propped up the book on the table to keep reading while I ate. By dinnertime, I had read about a quarter of the nine-hundred-page book.

Though I had grown up believing the Force was a myth, Ren himself had proved otherwise. It was an invisible reality of the universe. The old tome delved into topics and powers that I had never even dreamed were possible. Force Persuasion was of particular note, as well as Force Visions. I wondered if Ren possessed such abilities.

Becoming lost in thought, I pictured the desert scenes from my dreams. A man on a balcony, a child playing on a picnic blanket—their faces a blur of light and shadow...

I almost laughed at my own thoughts. I couldn't help but remember something I had once heard: "I prefer military tactics over sorcery. When our agendas align, I tolerate it."

The door signal pulled me back to the present. I jumped to my feet, smoothed my clothes, and combed my fingers through my hair. My heart started pounding in my ears as I approached the door. When it opened, my face fell in disappointment.

"Expecting your master, pet?"

I scoffed and crossed my arms. "What do you want, Hux?"

He smirked. "Come here," he said, turning around. "If it pleases you."

I cautiously followed him into the briefing area, with my eyes sweeping the room. Ren was nowhere to be seen. The holopad in the center displayed a large red orb. On second glance, I realized it was the now-destroyed Starkiller Base. Hux looked up at it with his back to me.

"Chancellor Palpatine, Darth Vader, and Supreme Leader Ren. What do these three leaders have in common?"

I nearly flushed at the question. "They're all Force-sensitive."

"No," he stated. "They all controlled massive armies of ordinary people like you and me."

He turned around with his shoulders back and his chin raised. With his long black overcoat, he looked quite formidable for once. When my eyes returned to his face, he gave me a disparaging look.

"I can see that I'm boring you, so I'll get to the point," he continued before I could get a word in. He gestured to something nearby. "I've had this delivered from one of the research cruisers."

My eyes fell on the metal truck as he knelt and opened it. I stepped forward eagerly to inspect the contents. Pairs of gunmetal gray gauntlets, pauldrons, and a breastplate lay inside. I reached down to place my hand on the matte metal—it felt much sturdier than standard plastoid armor. I lifted the heavy tray and found matching greaves and boots underneath. The helmet was noticeably absent.

"Phasma's armor," I murmured.

"Precisely," Hux said, sounding pleased. "A recreation, of course. With notable improvements."

Looking back at the armor with new eyes, I traced over every detail. The polished chromium finish was absent, but it closely resembled her symbolic armor. "I admired her," I admitted in a quiet voice. "How did she die?"

"No one knows exactly," he replied with a certain kind of sadness. "But she died at the hands of Resistance scum."

My hand balled into a fist on top of the breastplate.

"Phasma was an inspiration. Not only to you, but to all men and women of the First Order. Her likeness has become a symbol of persistence among younger Stormtroopers."

When I sensed him crouch beside me, I looked over in surprise. His eyes flickered between mine intently.

"And her legacy can live on, through you," he stated.

I immediately withdrew my hand and shook my head. "I'm not a leader."

"No," he agreed. "You do not possess Phasma's administrative skills, but you are cunning in battle. I've read all your mission reports."

I stood to my feet and he followed suit, annoying me with the couple of centimeters he had on me. Though he was a bit too close, I refused to show any sign of discomfort. "You're very trusting of a 'traitor.'"

His eyes knowingly swept down to my neck and lingered there. "I think we both know why you left with that brat," he murmured.

I swallowed thickly. I thought only John knew about that.

Hiding a gratified smirk, he turned away and gestured to the trunk. "Try it on. Your clothing seems light enough."

Setting aside my insecurities, I collected my hair and knotted it at the nape of my neck. Hux lifted the tray out, and I picked up the greaves and inspected them. I could tell they were too long for my thighs just by looking at them. As I struggled into the armor piece by piece, my suspicion was confirmed.

"How does it feel?" Hux asked, hand on his chin as he watched me waddle in small circles.

"Too big." I lifted an arm that was as heavy as a blaster rifle. "Heavy."

"You're out of practice," he criticized. He stepped closer with his eyes on the back of my right shoulder. I felt him press a button there. "Maybe this will help."

Suddenly, I felt weightless. My arm felt like my regular arm, not like there were eight pounds of metal attached to it. When I moved my arm back down, I heard a motorized whir similar to a droid's hydraulics. I took a step forward with the same result—effortless, easy movement.

"This is incredible," I breathed.

"It's a prototype," Hux said proudly. "The technology is designed to make you faster, stronger, and deadlier on the battlefield."

My mind raced with possibilities. I took a few more steps around the room, resisting the urge to run. I could run incredibly fast if I wanted to. I lifted my hand again and formed a fist. I could throw a punch like a sledgehammer. Turning back around, I narrowed my eyes at Hux.

"What's the catch?"

"The catch is this," he said dubiously. "Rather than combat, your primary mission would be a psychological one. Delivering speeches, walking through Stormtrooper divisions. Offering inspiration to the masses."

I nodded. That doesn't sound too hard. "Does Ren know about this?" I asked as I began to unstrap myself.

Hux watched with interest but didn't offer help. "Yes. He also knows that I've been searching for a candidate." He deactivated the hydraulic system, causing me to stumble and catch myself. "Of course, the decision ultimately lies with him."

After the armor was neatly stored, I closed the lid with a snap. I brushed my hand over the First Order emblem engraved on the lid. I could barely wrap my mind around his offer.

"I thought you of all people would want my head," I said, glancing over my shoulder.

Hux breathed out a laugh—a strange noise that I had never heard from him. "I hate to see an excellent soldier wasted. I also know how to inspire loyalty, unlike some."

Unlike Ren, my mind interpreted. Hux's mentality to inspire contrasted sharply with Ren's reign of fear.

"I'll have it moved to the rec room on this level." He offered me a silver device from his pocket. "It will only open when this is nearby."

I took it wordlessly.

He smothered a smirk. "I have a feeling your curiosity has not yet been satiated."

I felt color creeping up my chest as I stood and accepted it. I slipped the device into my pocket. "Thank you."

Hux bowed his head. If I hadn't known better, I would've thought he was being respectful. The glint in his eyes showed otherwise. "Good evening, Caltrel."

"General."

He retired to his quarters. As the door slid shut behind him, I glanced at the door next to his. Ren's.

Deciding now was as good a time as any, I hit the door signal. There was no answer for a full minute. I pushed it again and pressed my ear against the door. The cool metal surface stung my cheek, and I heard nothing. Feeling a strange pang in my chest, I returned to my room and to a book that suddenly seemed a lot less interesting.