Captive: A Mini Reylo Fic

Ding Dong Hux is Dead

Ben stared down at Hux, his pale eyes fixed upward in astonishment. He grit his teeth, thinking of how far he'd come in the past year and wondering what it said of him that he didn't regret this kill. Had he regressed, reverted to the Darkness he'd fought so hard to overcome? No, this didn't feel like the murders he'd committed in his horribly misguided attempts to gain Snoke's favor. It didn't leave him with the gut-wrenching sensation of wrongness that he'd tried so hard for so long to ignore. Instead, this felt righteous, vindicated. Hux never would have stopped, not until every last soul in the galaxy lay oppressed and subjugated to his rule. Idly, Ben wondered how a person could get to be so depraved. More alarmingly, he wondered if he would have become one of them, had he not killed Snoke, had he not met her. He shook his head. He didn't know the answer to that and, really, it didn't matter.

Resisting the urge to shove at Hux's body with his boot, Ben turned aside, instead taking care not to track his footsteps through the pooling blood. It wouldn't take long for his traitorous duplicity to be discovered, but it didn't matter. He didn't need long and, actually, that would work to his advantage. Or, more accurately, the Resistance's advantage. Once the General's death was discovered and the remaining officers realized they couldn't reach the Supreme Leader, the fight would go out of them. He'd seen to it over the past year that not one true leader staffed the bridge crew. It had been an easy task, given Hux's eagerness to appoint individuals who would offer no challenge to his authority. Ben was certain Hux had never once imagined that his suggestions were the result of anything but incompetence. Had he guessed the truth, maybe he wouldn't lie dead now with viscous blood oozing from his shattered and torn throat.

Ben startled at a sudden wrenching in the Force, drawing him back to the present situation and away from his thoughts. He'd set a mental tracer on her as soon as he'd sensed her presence on the planet below, and it tugged at him now, reminding him of the task at hand. Directing his consciousness outside the door, he found the bridge crew fully attentive to their various tasks, turned decidedly away from Hux's ready room. Nevertheless, Ben threw a visual shield over the evidence of his deeds, just in case someone looked up as he emerged. As it happened, though, it tuned out to be a needless precaution.

"Status," he barked, his voice taking on its typical menacing quality through the modulating effects of his helmet.

"The first squadron is engaged," came the quick response, though Ben noticed the thread of anxiety that laced the officer's voice, "and the second is en route, sir."

"We've already taken on casualties, sir," another voice interjected. "It's as if they knew we were coming."

Ben paused, pondering the tone and concluding that this speculation was offered in an air of anxiety bordering on panic, rather than accusation. Of course, they had known the First Order was coming, since he'd been the one to leak the information. He lingered a moment longer, allowing his stillness and silence to breed anxiety among the bridge crew, willing them to interpret his utter lack of response as anger, while actually attempting to manage his own anxiety.

If the First Order was already experiencing casualties, then the Resistance likely was as well. He forcefully pushed the nagging thought away, knowing it did him no good to worry over whether or not she was already dead. Clenching his fist tight and hearing the creaking protest of his glove, he forced himself to recognize she was quite skilled in battle. She could handle two squadrons of stormtroopers by herself and still emerge without a scratch. No, he didn't need to worry about her. But he did need to worry about getting his ass down there.

"Prepare my fighter. I'll see to this myself."

Satisfied by the leap in activity and anxiety that followed his proclamation, Ben turned from the bridge, purposefully exuding an air of fury and focus as he strode through the Finalizer, never having more felt like he was playing a role than he did then. Reaching his TIE Fighter, though, he appreciated how effective a role it was, the ship already prepped and ready to launch by the time he arrived. Wasting no time in striding aboard, he took the ship out far more quickly than was his usual practice, and only then breathed a sigh of relief.