The General's Wife

10. The Revenge

The hours that passed since he heard the news of his wife's death had slunk by, taunting him with the intense amount of inner agony that could fit into such a relatively short time. His speech had gone on as planned, though as he stood there in the cold air of Starkiller's atmosphere his eyes had blazed manically as he delivered the words. His tone had been more frenetic than he planned for, but the louder he shouted the easier it seemed to cover the tremor in his voice and the rising bile in his throat.

That was hours ago now, and here he sat back in his chambers, drink in hand as he stared across the table to the chair she had last sat in when he'd held out his hand to her and asked her to come with him to the ship. With a wince, he remembered the devastation painted all over her face; the crestfallen look that had met his eyes when her words slipped out and his response was the polar opposite of what she'd hoped it would be.

His hands had trembled as he disembarked the stage, having watched the destruction of the Hosnian System with none of the satisfaction he'd been expecting. His wife and child were dead, victims of a missile attack by an as yet unknown menace. Of course when Hux found them these people would pay with their lives, but none of this was any solace to the ache behind his eyes and the gnawing of his heart.

Dead. Gone. Never to be seen again.

As he stumbled down the halls of the Starkiller base to his quarters he almost clung to the walls for support as he processed the magnitude of what had occurred. He had enemies surely, but to stoop so low as to strike at his wife, at his future progeny? Who in all the galaxy could have such a vendetta against him as to aim this low?

The face swam to the surface of his mind hazily, seconds before the name fell in a mumbling whisper from his lips. Kylo Ren.

His jealousy of Hux. His desire for Cara. His meddling with the two of them time and time again. It all clicked. Who knew how long he had planned this spectacle? Who could have predicted his madness would lead down such a road as this? To murder a woman and her unborn child weeks before it's birth? There were some lines even the First Order considered too dark to cross. Civilian casualties on a mass scale such as Hosnian Prime were an exception, a necessary evil that he began to rationalize as soon as the thought came to him unbidden. Cara was different. She was special. His child was special. Even though he had never been capable of love, what little emotional attachment there was in his heart to give, he knew he had bestowed it on her and their baby long ago.

When he managed to find his room and violently punch in the code his face was red and gasping for air. The collar of his black greatcoat seemed to tighten around his throat every second and he almost fell inside the doors as they slid open. Clawing at his throat he left deep red marks against the skin in his desperation to loosen the choking feeling around his neck. Behind him the doors shut quietly and he sank to his knees, the buttons on his coat and uniform jacket scattering in various directions as he tore them both open, a violent cry unlike anything he had ever experienced began to emerge from the back of his throat. The walls here were soundproof, he had no need to fear being overheard.

All his plans, all his dreams, all the things he had planned to do for her and his child; they too were gone. Vanished in a cloud of smoke left to hang around him ominously like the ashes of Hosnian Prime and its surrounding planets. His rage was so deep, his grief so all-consuming that he finally began to comprehend Kylo Ren's penchant for destroying things when he went into his fits. All Hux wanted to do right now was tear into something, anything to alleviate the constriction of his lungs which had not abated with the removal of his uniform.

The burning behind his eyes finally seemed to lessen suddenly, but a strange, unfamiliar sensation alarmed him. From his place kneeling on the cold metal floor Hux reached up both hands to his cheeks and felt the steady rolling of a tear from each eye, catching them with his fingertips as if to put them back where they had come from and stave off the tidal wave left to fall. Try as he might to stop them, he did not succeed.