Photophobia

The Mission

Seeing his subordinates working diligently while he stood calmly in the centre of the bridge of the Destructor was immensely satisfying – for a moment Hux almost felt content. Of course it didn't last; the beeping of the priority comm channel startled everybody around him. Hux himself didn't move, didn't allow himself to show how much the call of this child irritated him.

The visage of Supreme Leader Ren appeared before him. Hux gave him a polite nod. "Supreme Leader."

"General Hux, have you succeeded in recovering the relic from Ghrma 4?" Ren asked, voice thick with barely veiled impatience.

Hux registered of course the pronoun Ren had used. So he was now solely responsible for the search of some mystic nonsense? He almost scoffed.

"We are still attempting to land. The ion particles in the atmosphere-"

"I'm not interested in excuses! The pilots just have to try until they succeed!" interrupted Ren.

Hux straightened his back. "It's not a matter of piloting skill. The chances of a shuttle flying though the particles without sufficient modifications is close to zero."

That seemed to give Ren pause. He frowned. "I want you to supervise the expedition yourself. I need that relic."

Hux licked his lips and said calmly. "Supreme Leader, my presence wouldn't expedite the mission. I'm of much better use in command-"

This time he felt a Force grip around his throat and he fell silent.

"Do as you're told," Ren's voice was barely a whisper.

Hux gasped and nodded. He felt how he was lifted of the floor. Ren let go of him and he fell on the floor, struggling for air.

Ren ended the call and Hux gritted his teeth. Damn Ren and his need to humiliate him publicly. He felt heat creep up his cheeks; the whole bridge had seen his undignified exchange. Ren was corroding his authority – he didn't care if it was on purpose or if Ren was simply following his infantile motions. By the stars! How he hated this man!

He took a deep breath and got up from the floor. Nobody dared to look at him. Hux twisted his lips in anger. He wanted show them that he was- he exhaled. No, either they realised that Ren was unreasonable or they didn't. Lashing out at his subordinates wouldn't change that.

He was aware of the whispers behind his back. The veterans of the old Empire called him 'mad,' Snoke himself had called him 'rabid cur.' Hux was used to slurs: Ever since the academy he had been mocked, be it for the perceived nepotism or his appearance. No, it didn't bother him that he was unpopular ... it did bother him that the slurs were so inaccurate.

In the rare moments he had to himself he pondered his reputation and it irked him. He was the opposite of hot-headed and mad. He was cold and calculating.

His musings were interrupted by a quiet voice. "Sir?"

Hux turned his attention to the dark-haired man before him. Lieutenant Mitaka, 24, shy, needs supervision, last performance evaluation: satisfactory.

Hux arranged his face into a neutral expression. "Lieutenant Mitaka – what is it?"

He registered that the man's eyes widened a little when he heard his name, he clearly hadn't expected Hux to remember it. "W-well, sir. Shall I arrange the transport to the Ghrma system?"

Hux clasped his hands behind his back. What a waste of time. But he could do his part to limit the waste of the resources at least. "Yes, but no escort. A pilot in a non-descript shuttle should be enough. I'll depart in the morning."

Mitaka bowed and turned on his heel to prepare the journey.

After a rather tedious dinner in the mess hall Hux returned to his quarters. He hardly ever ate a whole meal since he could think of other more useful things he could do with his limited time – like reading reports, drawing up plans or checking the personnel files.

But military custom demanded that he spent enough time at the table lest the other officers could finish their meals. After all dinner was over as soon the highest-ranking officer left; the other officers wouldn't be able to finish after he had left.

He had of course tried to break with this useless tradition but the older officers had openly disapproved, making a show of finishing their meal as soon as he had left the table. Hux longed for the day where these relics weren't in command anymore.

As per standing order, his adjutant had put a cup of steaming Tarine tea on his desk. He slipped out of his greatcoat and put it on a hanger next to the door. His thoughts returned to the ongoing projects as he took a clothes brush out of the narrow closet in the entrance and started to mechanically brush his already flawless coat.

Then he pulled his boots from his feet and started to polish them with an old rag. The newest walker had a slight production delay; he had demanded a progress report. He was curious if the lead technician – Captain Layky, 41, ambitious, last performance evaluation: very good – had been able to solve the problem with the overheating of the cannons.

Hux put the boots down and checked if he had placed them completely symmetrical. He was of course aware that the factotum droid would clean his clothes but it put him to ease to do these menial tasks himself.

He strode over to his desk and took a sip of tea while pulling up the reports he had received in the last hour.

His chronometer beeped around midnight standard galactic time. Hux put down the data pad and headed into the large bathroom adjacent to his bedroom. He dimmed the light a little and started to undress. In matter of minutes he had showered and put on his long-sleeved pyjamas before he brushed his teeth and headed to bed.

At exactly five o'clock in the morning his chronometer beeped again. He took a stim and got up. In matter of minutes he was dressed and had shaved. At 5:20 he sat at his desk and continued to read reports.

At 5:25 his orderly entered with a cup of tea and a ration bar on a platter.

"Thank you, private," said Hux without looking up.

The soldier retreated and Hux finished his work. Another look on his chronometer made him sigh – soon he had to leave. Waste of time indeed.

Captain Bahk, 32, devoted to the First Order, last performance evaluation: outstanding, snapped at attention as soon as Hux entered the hangar.

"General, it's an honour."

Hux nodded and made a mental note: Devoted but toady. "At ease, Captain Bahk. ETA on Ghrma 4?"

"Depending on the route 16:12 or 17:32, sir. There is an asteroid storm in the next sector."

Hux' eyebrow rose. "Recommendation?"

"Sir, I recommend the second route. We are only slightly delayed and it's safer."

Hux strode into the shuttle. "The second route it is, Captain."

He was absorbed in his work when they entered the Ghrma sector, but when the shuttle was hit by something and began to rumble he jerked his head up.

"Enemy on 14.3, sir," said Bahk. His voice was cool and clipped. "I'll accelerate to get into comm range with your cruiser at Ghrma 4."

Hux sat on the co-pilot seat and activated the on-board cannons. Thanks to the automated targeting system that had been installed just weeks ago he was able to return fire quickly. But the other pilot wasn't unskilled and soon the shuttle was hit by a barrage of shots. Hux cursed under his breath.

"We have to land, sir," shouted the pilot. Proximity and fire warning were beeping loudly.

"Kriff!" said Hux and strapped himself into the co-pilot seat. At least they had hit the resistance scum as well, judging from their trajectory they were also going down.

The shuttle shook as they entered the atmosphere. Hux clenched his hands to fists – why had Ren sent him on his inane mission? By the Force, if he survived this-

The canopy came closer quickly and suddenly they hit something hard and everything turned black.