Ginger Gears

Latitude (of Judgement)

They allowed Hux to clean up before they led him to a small room deep inside the compound. The smell of Alderaanian Yasmin tea rose to his nose once he had entered. Hux had only once tasted it, its rich and exquisite taste was unique.

General Organa was already sitting at a small table with a bouquet of rather ordinary wildflowers standing in a vase. The room itself was scant, there was only the table and a painting of an unfamiliar blue planet at the wall.

"Please, sit down."

Hux followed her invitation, straightening his uniform once he sat. "Is this really Alderaanian Yasmin tea?" he asked.

"Indeed it is. I have only a small supply left, to be honest, but I think today is a day to celebrate. For both of us."

He crooked an eyebrow. "For both of us?"

"Did you know that I was raised on Alderaan?"

He took the mug she offered him and blew on the hot tea. "I remember to have read it in your file."

She took a sip. "I watched Tarkin blow it up." She put the tea down on the table. "He made me watch."

Hux didn't know what to say, so he drank some tea and waited for her to continue.

"I was very young back then, arrogant and proud. I thought I was invincible. Seeing Alderaan implode on a whim of a single man... I had nightmares for years." She looked him directly in the eye, her gaze was hard. "I swore to myself that I would never let that happen again. That's why I am still fighting, even after all these years."

He could see why people followed her. Even in talking about a defeat there was strength, a determination to her that he had rarely encountered. "Destruction begets destruction," he said. "I thought that Starkiller would break this vicious circle. I thought uniting the galaxy under one banner would end conflict."

"I assume you recognized Snoke's true nature?"

"I did." He took another sip. "I knew that Snoke and his apprentice would drown the galaxy in blood once Starkiller was active. There really was only one option."

It was her turn to raise an eyebrow. "Only one option? You could have followed your orders, but you chose not to. Unlike Tarkin, you chose not to become a mass murderer."

"I-"

"Do you know why you aren't in a cell?"

He frowned. It was a good question – he had assumed that she wanted to casually talk to him before he was sent to jail. But it didn't make sense. She could have had this chat with him even if he was sitting behind a force field... but there would have been guards. "You wanted privacy."

She leaned forward. "You have presented me with an incredible gift – the destruction of this- this Starkiller and at the same time your presence here is a dilemma."

"A dilemma? How? You hold all the cards."

"Rebellions are built on hope. On ideals. The idea that we can win against all odds is the core of our strength. But you were the one who single-handedly dealt a blow to the Order. You, our enemy, a brilliant engineer... head full of weapon designs of untold destruction. When you were the enemy we could have imprisoned you, interrogated you." She leaned back in her chair. "But you are a hero now, a deserter who chose to do the right thing. How can we imprison you now? Because of your deeds in the past?" She lifted her finger. "Some would argue that you have redeemed yourself with this single act."

He put the tea on the small table. "The question on how to handle me could divide your movement."

Organa nodded. "That and some might be tempted by the possibilities of your designs. Why not force you to reveal all your weapon projects? Why not build a powerful weapon to counter whatever the enemy is throwing at us? Why not built our own Death Star?"