beautiful mistake; general a. hux ➥ on hold

ACT I.

ACT I.

I tapped my fingers on my right leg. It was my nervous habit. Nothing had ever made me this nervous before, not even meeting Supreme Leader Snoke for the first time, when I first started my training as a child.
I stood in line with the other two ex-cadets, who didn't seem nearly as nervous as me.
Primitive, I know. Being so nervous just because I was about to meet the General who would most likely command me for the rest of my life. Okay, maybe it wasnt that stupid after all. But it wasn't the adequate way of handling this situation as an almost-soldier of the First Order.

Back to my current situation.
The other two recruits were both perfect in their own ways. Both were men and their hair was perfectly slicked back, not even a strand of their shiny hair sticking out. Their uniforms were as straight as they could get, although I noticed that the one who stood farthest away from me had a few crincles on his collar.

He's too carefree. He thinks the General won't notice, I thought.

His posture was lacking, too. He wouldn't last a day under the command of a real general. He would break eventually, his bad habits getting in the way of his job.

Somehow, the two of us were alike. Deep down I knew I was only putting on the face of a strong and diciplined soldier, but a good general would notice me tapping my fingers on my leg, frantically pushing my hair behind my ear, even if there were none to be pushed back.

Finally a soldier in the typical pitch-black First Order uniform came up to us and monotonely announced, "General Hux will see you now."

We stepped into the office of the General, all lined up behind one another then finally going back to our original position in front of his desk.

The room was lined by metallic black walls, made of a metal of some sort that reflected the movements in the room in a blurred and distorted manner. Everything had a place here. It was the most orderly room I had ever seen.

The General himself seemed to be a perfectionist in all ways. His ginger hair, slicked back just as the rules asked for, looked healthy and he had no sign of any crincles in his uniform whatsoever. His face looked like it had been perfectly sculpted by an artist. No spots, beauty marks, nothing. Not even the slightest hint of any imperfections. The vivid green of his eyes seemed to look right through us, sorting out who would end up on his team.

He could choose all of us.
But he could just as well only choose two, or even only one of us and I knew this would be his plan.

He would not allow anyone on his team to lack in any of the aspects he desired in a good soldier.

His gaze went from the recruit on my far left to me and back. He fixed his gaze on him and inspected him a lot longer than he'd looked at me and the other recruit.
He's not going to make it.

"Recruit GR-2371, do you believe I allow any of my soldiers to lack in any aspect?", General Hux asked him, his eyes still locked with that of the recruit.
"No, sir, I do not. Sir," he declared firmly. To any normal person he would've seemed confident but I knew it was only a facade and that he was secretly scared to death behind it.

The General's lips turned up just a bit at the corners. He seemed satisfied with his answer.

"Good," he said. Then he turned to the soldiers posted at each side of the entrance. "Take him back."

I could feel the air temperature drop when he spoke the words out loud.
A cold blooded, perfectly trained, killing machine, I thought, just as they need their soldiers.

They took him without any big fuss. As expected. Then the General turned to us and looked at us again with his emerald green eyes. "You're dismissed. Feel free to do whatever. Your first shift starts tomorrow at exactly 0600 hours, don't be late."