Keeping Your Promise

Pure Negligence

Summary: Remember when Kylo Ren told you that you'd repay him at a later date? Well...

WARNINGS: Bloodplay, Inappropriate use of medical supplies, Dubcon, Choking, No aftercare.

The blood had dried onto your skin by the time you'd arrived in Hux's office, his half-skipping pace giving it time to congeal as he led you through the communal area between the med bay and the business center of the Finalizer. Your face – shiny with crimson streamlets – had been the showcase of the dramatic scene, attracting the attention of every officer on staff during your walk of shame. It was infuriating knowing that you would now be recognized as not only Kylo Ren's property – courtesy of the red embroidery clothing your left breast – but also as the blood-soaked officer who had met her demise barely half a year into her career.

Talia's eyes haunted you, cold and militant before Hux led you through the med bay where all of your coworkers watched in stupefied horror. Their stares were cemented into your memory, ones filled with fear and confusion; it was inconclusive as to which out of the two was more prevalent amongst the crowd. It was humiliating how ironic the situation was; you had been escorted to your arrival into the First Order – graduation – and you had now been escorted to your certain denouement from it.

A red-tinged tear fell to the back of your hand, a small rivulet tracing down the blood-filled cracks in your knuckle and slowly falling onto your uniform, fading into the black façade the fabric offered. The weight of Hux's expectant glare was heavy on your shoulders, but you couldn't seem to muster the courage or civility to meet it, instead steadying your eyes on the limply hanging coagulation of hair at the sides of your vision. It was indiscernible if you had grown colder due to the blood seeping into your uniform, or if Hux's office was the same temperature as a cryochamber; nonetheless, you were visibly shivering in your chair.

Hux cleared his throat. "Where shall we begin, hm?" He interrupted the quiet, only worsening your tremors. "I think I'll start by asking how you rationalized stealing from the very organization who employs you. Yes, I think the members of the Elite would be delighted to hear your thought process behind this show of egregious malpractice," his words were harsh and berating, coming quickly.

Blinking, another flush of tears flagrantly ran down your face, dully falling into the amassed collection on your skirt. Words could barely form in your head, there was no possibility of any coherent, meaningful group of them leaving your mouth any time soon.

Hux did not appreciate this show of apparent continued disrespect. "Officer, I don't know what benefit you find in ignoring my questions. You are only incriminating yourself further," he paused to look over your blood-soaked skin, "if that's possible at this point."

Something – dread or shame or fear – tightened around your throat and debilitated your testimony further, a hollow whine leaving your lungs in its place. How could you explain that the disgust you held for the gluttonous concessions the Elite provided its members took residence in the very foundation of your being without getting automatically written up for a scheduled public execution? There was no scenario where you left this room with both your integrity and a promise of life, and that fact incited a new depth of fear within you.

"Fine, have it your way," he said. "I was going to wait until after you'd gone to pack – give you a fighting chance – but you leave me no choice," Hux began swiping across his datapad, tapping away words you could only guess were fueled towards obliterating any shot you might've previously held at a prospective, happy future. His relentless fingers stopped and he set down his datapad and he sighed. A snuffed laugh left his throat. "Ever since Ren told me about you, I knew this is how it would end," he said. "You were never fit for the position, and you've only proven me right."