Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The thing about the universe was that it was a fragile thing. It required balance between all things. Life and death, light and dark, order and chaos.

In terms of physics, the universe was mostly empty space. Specifically, twenty-seven percent dark matter,  seventy percent dark energy and only three percent solid matter. What the people of this universe believed was balance was when they were in power.

The Hutt, the Jedi, the confederacy, the Empire, the rebels… 

All the same. Greedy children grasping to get the most straws. The Jedi believed that balance was only achieved once the light dominated the Force. Ironic, since they enforced balance through eradication and control. They took children from families, foreboding them from ever seeking their love. Then, when their numbers were higher and stable, they decimated the dark; all the sith and their followers, the separate factions like the Order of Ren and all those that were born on the dark side of their moons. Who knows how many generations and species have been eradicated by the Jedi. 

The Rebels fought for the Republic, a militia demanding for an ideal. They believed that the Republic was fighting for democracy, equality for all but the Republic, in all its form, was made out of greed. They deluded themselves that it was to better their individual society through shared knowledge and power over the galaxy but all it came down to was who had what resource and what they wanted in return. After all, Emperor Palpatine was able to come to power through the manipulation of the Republic…all because of embargoes on trade, not allowing others to play unless it was by their rules.

The New Republic was somewhat worse than its predecessor. Not through its actions but rather its in actions. The planets under the New Republic’s regime flourished; poverty was minimal and crime was low but outside that cluster of systems, it was hell. The Middle and Outer Rim’s had always been hard to control and with the chaos of the dissolution of the Empire, disorder reigned. 

It’s how the First Order managed to come to power.

As he scored the highest in the aptitude tests of his graduating class, Armitage Hux was unceremoniously thrown into a mission, literally, with a group of First Order rogues, the Knights of Ren. Many other officers were involved, ranging from troopers to intelligence officers to generals but Hux, the youngest at twenty years old, his CO, one Colonel Dolores Alpine, a squad of stormtroopers in civies, and two knights who had yet to reveal their faces. 

When he received his orders upon graduation, Hux was eager to prove himself, too eager his father had said, but it was a rare opportunity that cadets, now officers, were given assignments outside of placements on cruisers and he had to grasp it with both hands. He just didn’t expect that he’d be “undercover”. 

The mission had been given to him immediately after the ceremony with the time and location of his briefing as well as the private holo link code for Colonel Alpine in case he needed any clarification. At first, he believed that it was a prank by his classmates, a farewell trick on the valedictorian and maybe the colonel knew that. He called her just to be sure. 

“Colonel Alpine here, what do you want?” Answered an ageing woman, her hair pulled back into a bun. 

“This is Lieutenant Hux. I received your orders earlier today,” he responded, a lump in his throat at the prospect of telling a senior officer he was just paranoid. 

“And you wanted to make sure they were legitimate?” She quirked an eyebrow, a knowing smile on her face.

“Yes, ma’am.” 

“My son said you would call. It’s why I added my code. Rest assured, Hux, this isn’t some joke. Your expertise regarding engineering is needed.” He resisted to show his confusion on his face.

“Surely a senior would be preferable-”

“None can snipe a target from a klick away.” She let the red hair mull it over, putting pieces together. “This mission is dangerous and all personnel must have combat training and unfortunately, our scientists flinch at the sight of a blaster.”

“Understood, Colonel.”

“Good. I will see you at the briefing.” The holo of Alpine moved forward as if to disengage the call but she pulled back, remembering something. “Hux, what do you know of the Knights of Ren?”

“Rumours, mostly.” Actually, he knew a lot, from hacking the classified archives but he wouldn’t tell a senior officer that. Nor would he tell her about dreams he had been having ever since he was little. He knew the knights, he knew their stories, their names even the feel of their lightsaber cores just from scarlet flashes in his dreams. “Some sort of death squad that will be joining us, ma’am?”

“Something like that,” she sighed out, leaning back. “I probably should leave this until the briefing but you are, surprisingly, an asset to this mission and I would rather have you informed. I have been dealing with these fucks the moment they joined our ranks and I’ve had more soldiers lose their nerves than I want.”

Unphased by Alpine’s vulgarity, Hux too leaned back. 

“They’re the Supreme Leader's private cult.” Incorrect, thought the lieutenant. They were roped in to train someone. They were teachers who got to kill the other faculty members in one big, complicated academy . “Force users, like the Jedi and Sith, and they’re intense sons of bitches who will kill you for the sake of it.” Also incorrect. They kill you because you offended them. 

“So don’t look them in the eye?” He asked, with perhaps a little too much sas but Alpine nodded strongly. 

“Best strategy, kid.” Okay, I didn’t mean it literally. 

After a few more unhelpful comments that Hux believed to be superstition rather than fact, Alpine finally logged off, leaving the lieutenant in his dark yet tidy quarters. 

As a graduating officer, he, and his class, were granted private suites consisting of a refresher, a desk, a bunk and a window seat that overlooked a landing pad. Unlike his classmates, he had decorated minimally, if at all. Prepping to transfer a majority of his belongings to either a star destroyer or a storage facility, the few trinkets he had collected over the years of academy life were packed into hard grey containers that cluttered his desk, wrapped in protective packaging. Spare academy sheets were washed and folded in the bottom of his wardrobe whilst only a spare uniform, his dress regulation and that one set of civilian wear hung up in the closet. Anything that he could afford to, sadly, scrunch up was tucked into his bags. Arguably unnecessary as the meeting was to take place on academy grounds and whilst the graduates are to move out by eighteen-hundred tomorrow, Hux was granted special permission to live there until his mission was clarified. 

He switched from uniform to more comfortable lounge wear as he sat on the window seat, propping his back up against a wall. The Academy had moved from Arkanis, his home world, to Pesfarvi, a planet that once belonged to the Chiss Ascendency. Technically, it still did as a Chiss colony still populated the city surrounding the academy, providing protection and diplomacy to what is considered the First Order’s biggest (and only) weakness. The Chiss Defence Fleet and the First Order shipyards were on the other side of the planet, connected by a hyper train and several shuttle routes. 

For the past ten years of Armitage’s life, it was his home. He hadn’t ventured far out of the system, bar training missions, even when his father owned multiple properties across the system and the occasional tentative invite from a classmate to join them at their homes during the semester breaks. Granted, those invites stopped once Colby Hayes, the only friend Hux really had, died. 

Admittedly, he was nervous about this assignment. His life was packed up again, waiting in the balance to see where he’d move to next and then there were those dreams; complex shapes and shadows that never really made sense, like he was missing another layer of complexity. The emotions were strong, so strong that Armitage had to rest on the coldness of the window to forget the burn of a red lightsaber. Then there was the odd occasion when the images were solid enough that Hux woke in a state of confusion and intrigue, sitting in the chill of a shower as phantom lips grazed his skin. 

There was a girl. He could see her clearer than the smokey figures of the Knights of Ren and their dark powers. She was a solitary creature, like him. Bruised and beaten on the inside just like he was. But her smile, he had felt that only when Colby grinned at him, warming the icicle that was his heart. When her laugh echoed across his dreamscape, it always felt hollow, like when he chuckled falsely at his superintendent's jokes. Some nights, her hair slips through his fingers like water as strokes her cheek and her head, her black hair refracting like an oil spill on his arm as they lean in for a kiss. 

That's when he wakes up. Sometimes it's when she leans over him, brushing her soft lips over his temples, other times it’s when he’s tracing the collection of dark stars and spots along her spine that spread to the front of her ribs and down the back of her spine. Admittedly, it took a long time, up until recently actually, to discover that what he thought were birth marks were in fact a part of her species. She was a Jalpa, specifically one from the Fourth Planet. Rarer then a high grade Twi’lek in the slave cartels. 

She was usually in tandem with the Knights of Ren, a solid beacon protected by shadows and lava, so, if he was meeting with the Knights and working alongside them, then surely he’d meet the woman that has been plaguing his dreams. Regardless of Colonel Alpine’s fear mongering, he was excited, a clenching in his stomach that he had not felt since his first time touching a sniper blaster. His first assignment as an officer…and finally seeing the Jalpa. 

After setting his alarm, Hux tugged a blanket off his bed and settled back on the window seat, watching as lights in the distance moved up into space; shuttles sending his classmates, officers and engineers, to the fleet waiting above the planet. Just for a moment, a silly thought crossed his mind:

I wonder what Colby would have been assigned to? 

His mother, Armitage knew, was a semi-important official and so, like him, the blonde would have been assigned to an important ship like the Harbinger , steadily tapping away at a communications console. Hux would be on mission, also on a ship, probably the Harbinger as well if the Knights were involved, and his Colby would be his comms op, whispering tactics and orders into his headset just like in the battle sims…just like in that battle sim. 

Images of a burnt, dismembered squadron took over the fantasy and the redhead shook himself, repeating the mantra that the Academy psychologist hammered into his brain. 

Galidraan was not your fault. It was his squad that he sent into a cave.

The mines were supposed to be deactivated during the games. He should have checked, sent in Cadet Janko, his recon op, or done something different. Choose a different route to the enemy flag.

The Academy provided false information by accident. He should have done his own research on the planet. No, you could not. It was a mystery drop. 

We lost two thirds of your graduating year. It was out of your control. No, he made the suggestion that led to teams Delta, Alpha and Epsilon moving into trap. 

He had a cybernetic implant on his left side because of his mistake and he lost Colby…all he had left of the cadet was a partial dog tag he added to his own. The ripped apart hexagon clanked against two new and shiny Order tags as Armitage pulled on the chain to read them, thumbing over the letters. 

“Cad-

Haye-

S.R-

6391-

814-”

That was all Armitage had of his best friend and partner of five years. His family had collected all of Colby’s personal belongings and denied Hux’s request of holo’s the blonde had collected. Just a piece of shrapnel that had once embedded itself into the lieutenant's fourth rib alongside skull fragments to remember him by. 

The room dropped in temperature as it did every night in order to conserve energy but Hux didn’t feel it, clashing memories of burning flesh and scorching kisses pressing against his mind. Perhaps it was time for one of those chilling, half an hour showers.

If he had stayed at the window, he’d have noticed an incoming black freighter that carried no markings. Its ramp lowered down, steam hissing from outlets and pistons, and a collection of cloaked figures walked down in formation. 

Chapter Text

Colonel Alpine had rushed out of her quarters once she ended the call with her lieutenant, hastily forcing her cap on her head and swinging on her uniform jacket when space control notified that the Knights of Ren were arriving sooner than anticipated. They had this irritating habit of inconveniencing everyone. 

Ren, the head Knight, led his posse, stopping once he reached the colonel. 

“Alpine.” Hearing her name crackle through a voicecorder made her skin itch momentarily, hair raising on the back of her neck. He was a predator and whilst the woman could hold her own in a fight, she was at a disadvantage. It’s why the Order’s personnel despised the Supreme Leader’s pets; they were condor dragons living amongst loth-cats.

“Ren,” she responded, giving a short, curt salute. “You were scheduled to arrive tomorrow morning.”

“Plans have been accelerated. We have sensed that something has changed. We must move quicker than anticipated.” Alpine scoffed. 

“It is oh-one-hundred. A majority of those that are assigned to this mission are asleep-”

“Then wake them.”

“That is not the point, Ren. I will not have my operatives dropping dead in the field because you woke them up in the middle of gamma shift.” Ren ignored her comment, striding past her with his cult following behind. “Fucking prick,” she mumbled and wondered if she could order an engineer to break their freighter so that it exploded once it reached the thermosphere of Pfarsvi. 

The Knights of Ren were not vile creatures. They too needed to eat, sleep and heal but their mission was of utmost importance and so the Order’s lackeys would have to be woken from their precious slumber. 

None of her personnel would respond to her comm bashing, proven last time the Knights of Ren made impromptu visits in the middle of the night so she’d have to make the rounds banging on doors. The closest officer would be her new first lieutenant. 

She made her way to the fourth level of student barracks, banging on the door and spamming the doorbell. Her son told her that Hux was a very reasonable student and the risk of walking in on a rendezvous between two cadets was very, very low. 

The young man appeared, looking like a drenched loth-cat wrapped in a First Order shower robe. At first, he looked incredibly grouchy and Alpine would not be surprised if to the side of the door he held a blaster (cadets were known to be ruthless and Hux may have been the butt of many attacks until he learned to be better). Once realising his superior officer was at his door, he dropped into a salute, a metal clatter ringing in the hall. 

Definitely armed. He’ll survive the first few days with Ren. 

“Ma-am.” 

“At ease, Lieutenant. Get dressed, the meeting has been brought forward. I’ll wait here.” Hux gave a sharp nod and shut the door. 

What the fuck? Was his thought and he looked at the time. Something must have happened and so, he quickly dried himself off, roughly drying his hair in a too damp towel. Kriff, he’ll look like a right mess. 

Basic blacks were adorned and two blades were attached to arm straps underneath his jacket. Once his hair was a little more dry, thankfully, he quickly swiped in some gel, before pulling on his boots and stashing another knife. All that was left was his hat and to put his blaster back under his pillow (he doubted a meeting would require to be more armed than he already was). 

The door slid open and Alpine nodded. 

“Good timing and don’t worry about the cap, I doubt anyone will bother with protocol.” Still, Hux tugged his cap on and began power walking beside Alpine. 

The hallways were silent in the student barracks, chilly too as the cold air clung to Hux’s still damp hair. The silent pair crossed a courtyard into officer housing where the faculty and guest rooms were and once they crossed the threshold, the colonel started listing off room numbers.

“532, 679, 778, 779 and 923. Bang on the doors, cut the wires if you have to. I want those officers out and ready - how long did it take you? Oh yes, I want them out in three minutes. Wait for them, some of them will drag their heels.” 

“What do I say to them, ma’am. What is the urgency for?”

“Ren and his bunch of psychopaths.” 

“Ah.”

“Get to it, soldier. I’ll go through ground to floor 4. Report back here.” She checked her wrist watch. “Let's say in thirty minutes at the latest.” Hux salutes sharply before quickly striding to the turbolift in the centre of the hall, boots clicking in the empty steel hall.

The officer quarters were similar to the cadet barracks in the sense that many small rooms were clustered together, the floor plan creating a sort of cross pattern. Whilst it took up a lot of ground compared to a standard box shaped building, Hux had to admit it was one of the more aesthetically pleasing complexes. Each row housed fifty rooms, 25 on either side with communal bathrooms and showers at each end. The design language, similar to a star destroyer was used, cold black and silver metal with floors shiny enough you had a perfect mirror image. Red and white accent panelling dotted the walls with a heavy fluorescent lighting that followed Hux’s step. 

Room 532 was the first on Hux’s list. He read the sign, rehearsing ‘Second Lieutenant Mack’ in his mind before politely ringing on the door bell. The ringing, whilst inside the room, could be heard echoing down the metal complex yet no noise of the occupant was heard. He rang again and then banged on the door for good measure. 

The door hissed open. 

“What?” Questioned a man that was just slightly older than Hux; brown hair, blue eyes and two day old stubble. How was it allowed to grow for that long? 

“Orders from Colonel Alpine, sir.” The redhead tucked his hands behind his back in a neat rest pose.

Mack sighed and twisted his torso, cracking his back momentarily. 

“And there are?”

“The Knights of Ren have arrived early, sir.” Eyes widening, Mack cursed under his breath, diving back into the hovel of his room without even closing the door. Messy. 

The lack of procedure, and its enforcement, was disheartening. Surely, the Academy’s strict policy on order and obedience could not have been forgotten so easily within years. The thought that the hell he just went through being irrelevant left a bad taste in Armitage’s mouth.

That would change when he’ll be in command. The galaxy was chaos. It was the First Order’s duty to quell it and it would start with him. 

Mack brought him out of his thoughts: 

“Bloody hell, kid. Have you woken up Richards, Juarek and the others?” He asked, shouting just a bit as he started to pull on trousers and his shirt. In his haste, he stumbled over something and came crashing down on his side. 

Hux was going to respond when a door opened, one of the lieutenant's neighbours. 

“Kriffing hell, Mack, could you shut the fuck up? If you’re kicking out your new lay then do it bloody quickly,” A blonde poked her head out, giving Hux a disdainful glare. “You’ll wake the whole floor up.”

Mack finally stepped outside and closed his door, uniform misshapen and hair scruffy. 

“The Supreme Leader’s dogs are here, Kells,” he grumbled, tucking his undershirt into jodhpurs and snapping his belt on. ‘Kells’ shuddered, tucking hair behind her ear and readjusting the blanket she had wrapped around her shoulder. 

“Better get going then, Charlie. It’s been nice knowing you.” 

“Don’t you worry now, blondie. I’ve been working with them for four years now and I have yet to die.” Mack locked his door and Kells rolled her eyes, going back to bed. “Right now, Cadet-”

“Lieutenant Hux, sir.” The name and title brought a quizzical look to the brunet’s face, an eyebrow raising. 

“You’re not Brendol Hux’s pup are you?” The ginger repressed a disdainful sigh. Not many people liked Brendol Hux and Armitage was one of them. 

“Yes, I am.” Surprisingly, his superior officer slapped him on the shoulder as they started walking to the lift. 

“You legacy kids do pretty good. Welcome to the team.”

Together, they worked through the floors, collecting the remaining four officers: Captain’s Richard and Jaurek, Sergeant Huerta and Major Halyard. All human, which wasn’t a surprise to Hux, all roughly middle aged with the major being the most visible senior of them, his black hair streaked with grey.

“I would not be surprised if they are doing this, uh, how do you put it, Jaurek?” Drawled out Haylard in a distinctive Coruscant accent, his posture screaming decorum and protocol.

“That they are screwing with us, sir,” responded Captain Jaurek, a dark skinned woman with her braids wrapped in a bun. Whilst she looked tired and haggard, out of the six officers, she, Hux and the major were properly dressed.  “And they probably are. I have done eight missions alongside them and every time they do something to inconvenience us.”

Halyard hummed in agreement, nodding his head. 

The turbolift dinged and the senior officers shuffled out, Hux trailing behind as they joined another group. Overall, there were twelve personnel, including Alpine and Hux, in varying degrees of fatigue and distress. 

“Right, you all know your purpose with this mission. Looks like the timeline has been moved up by at least half a rotation. Maybe more.” Groans sounded out in the hallway. “I’ve comm’d catering, caf and breakfast will be supplied in the meeting and to personnel who will not be attending. I need ships ready like we’re flying out in five minutes. Supplies and fake chain codes are to be onboard. Logistics, Ops and Intelligence, dismissed.” Six nameless faces dispersed, some jogging away towards the craft hanger. “Rest of you, with me. Lieutenant  Hux, you’ll be shadowing Commander Byrne.” 

A gruff looking man stepped forward, broad in the shoulders and a scar split his lip in two. He jutted out a hand and Hux grasped it firmly, shaking thrice before pulling away. 

Alpine turned on her heels and the party followed her, with Hux striding two steps behind Byrne. His heart was not pounding, per say, but he was tensing for what would be years worth or dreams finally coming to life. 

Unlike the stormtroopers, they did not march in uniform but Hux, incredibly fresh from the Academy with a point to prove, made sure to remain in time with his commanding officers. Byrne walked stiffly with his hands tucked behind his back and looked over his shoulder just once, checking to see if Hux hadn’t wandered off before nodding. 

Byrne was not unknown to him. He was a professor during his sixth and seventh years at the Academy. An engineer of the highest calibre, Warlock Byrne was fresh blood to the elites of the First Order, striding over Imperial blunders when it came to ship design. If Hux were to prove himself in the mechanics rather than the command tract, it would be Byrne he would strive to overthrow. 

Best he watched the man.

The building was one of the more covert complexes on the campus, only one or two levels of sharp, angular concrete sticking out of the ground. First Order banners framed the doorway and a small squad of troopers stood to attention. A captain of the troop stepped forward, halting Alpine. The woman stepped aside, motioning for the captain to follow her and whispers were exchanged. 

“This is weird, even for the Knights, Sir,” mumbled Mack, who had slunked forward to shadow Byrne’s other side.

“This bloody mission has been discussed for so long, I don’t see why now, of all times, we’re having issues,” the old engineer hissed. “Something has changed.”

“I was not aware that the assignment involved conspiracies, Sir,” Hux said lowly, trying to dig for more information as to what was going on. Alpine, and everyone else, for that matter, had been incredibly vague. 

Byrne huffed.

“This is the First Order, lieutenant. We were founded on conspiracy. You should know that by now, Hux. You were at Galidraan.” More stormtroopers filed out of the building as the redhead's jaw clenched and unclenched, his stomach wavering from butterflies to stabbing pains. “Jokes aside, the kid might be right. This is weird . Mack, stick by the rest of the scientists. Make sure they actually make their way to the meeting.” 

The party was being split into a line and the lieutenant saluted before heading to the back. ID checks and bioscans started up and Byrne casually turned around before looking down at Hux. 

“You were picked for a reason, not just because you know how to shoot.” The line moved forward. 

“You mentioned Galidraan.” Byrne nodded. Another step. Only four more people left in front of him. 

“Tragedy. Absolute tragedy but it has made us aware that you have qualities that have made you suitable for this mission.” Three.

“How so? Galidraan was an accident. I survived on luck.” Two. 

“No and no.” One.

“Sir-”

“Hold out your ID and hand.” Bewildered, Hux felt his heart rate peak as he pulled out his command tube in one hand, and turned over the other. One trooper plugged the tube into a datapad and the other pricked his finger, taking a small blood sample. 

Byrne had moved to stand with Alpine but kept an eye on Hux. 

“Move along.” He did so, and joined with his commanders. 

“Ready?” Alpine asked and Hux nodded. 

Something twitched at the back of his mind as he moved into a lift. A heavy oppression flourished in his brain and body as he worked over and over the Galidraan incident. 

If…if he even chose to believe Byrne, how and why was Galidraan intentional. It wiped out nearly an entire cohort of future command crew which had put back the First Order a few years in development. There simply was not enough personnel in the current sector if they were to take the entire galaxy. It just…doesn’t make sense. 

Static filled his head as the group strode into the meeting room, the Knights waiting in silence.

Chapter Text

Makeb was a Huttese stronghold in the mid rim, swimming in riches of Isotope-5 and an outbound slave trade. The Hutts thrived on bringing strange new species into the slave trade from the outer and unknown regions with Makeb, even with its nightmare of gravitational fields and electromagnetic radiation, being the best place to tag and register slaves. 

There were processing facilities, large docking stations filled with cattle sheds and breeding bays, constantly churning in and out produce for the rest of the middle and inner cartels. Underneath these facilities, however, was a rare treasure trove of artefacts. A Jedi, millenia ago, went on a hunt for some of these lost relics. Her pilgrimage led to an awakening of an abominable beast and the process of overcoming this foe ultimately caused the core to start collapsing. It was only through the help of the Empire and its science division did Makeb settle down, allowing for the Huttese to occupy. 

“This is where our mission takes place.” Alpine clicked a button and the slide show moved forward. Hux, sitting next to Byrne, nodded, his hands clenching underneath the table. 

Was Makeb another Galidraan? A good way to get rid of a problematic unit? Perhaps these ‘qualities’ I possess are purely survival instincts and I must assist with the…normal officers' escape?

But, he should not be quick to jump to a  conspiracy with no evidence. No, the evidence would be what the Knights were to do. He couldn’t help looking across to the other side at the Knights. 

Their leader, Ren, sat opposite Hux, preferring to be in the middle of the fray and what Armitage knew from the visions, that was on brand for him. 

Ren, Master to his underlings, wore no helmet. He was an admittedly handsome human male, about forty or maybe forty-five years old, with a manicured beard and long hair. A few greys streaked his temples and his eyes had a golden tint when he moved his head a certain way, glowing with the dark side. 

“We are to assist the Knights in extracting certain relics underneath what we believe is the central market area.” Alpine took a long sip of Caf, savouring the burnt taste. “Intelligence officers have contacted and secured information from a high ranking member of Lord Crik Fervrendi’s inner circle. Our contact will help when we make landfall but has heavily suggested that we go undercover until Lord Fevrendi can be eliminated.”

Captain Juarek raised her hand.

“Ma’am, why are we assassinating the head slaver? Is it beneficial to the mission?”

“Good Question, Captain,” answered the colonel. “Part of the deal between the informant and the Bureau was that we take him out. Don’t ask why, it seems to be a rather personnel issue for them and it won’t affect us in the long run.”

So, that explained why Hux’s weapons skill was an investment for them. The I.B had fine snipers but none could snipe and be a part of an engineering team. He did have a good record of long distance target practice. 

“Another question, Ma’am, if you do not mind,” Juarek queeried, her back straight and eyes bright. “I recently returned from medical leave and have not been made fully aware of the situation. I know my officers are compiling chain codes and falsified backgrounds but what are we exactly posing as?”

“Slavers, thankfully.”

Somebody whistled under their breath and Hux turned his head slightly towards them. Mack was whispering to a blond man to his left. Armitage’s eye twitched as they repressed some sort of giggle.

“Gentlemen, is there anything you’d like to add?” Queeried Byrne, who’s attention had also landed on his subordinates. Both the brunet and blond snapped to attention. 

“No, sir. Just some jovial comments.” Mack shrugged, a smirk on his face. “Remember the last time the Order infiltrated a slave cartel? Holos of Betty and Mareen in collars and bikinis were floating around for weeks.”

He’s too comfortable and cocky. A liability, thought Armitage, sitting up straight and sneering towards the man. He may think he is around friends but he doesn’t know me. 

“Lieutenant Mack, that is highly inappropriate!” Major Haylard started to redden with anger, preparing to dress down the man. Mareen…Mareen…oh, Mareen Haylard is his niece. No wonder he’s about to order a court martial. Fucking idiot, speaking like that here.

But Haylard never got to defend his relative as the still Knight’s started to come alive.

Ren lifted up his own mug of caf and the room turned to watch hesitantly as the master nodded after a gulp. He watched Hux, an eyebrow lifted in humour at the young man. Those gold eyes that had pierced his souls in his  dreams did so now, making the lieutenant's heart rate pick up and his fingers reaching for a blade out of habit. 

The glare of a predator sizing up for prey…but Hux wouldn’t let that happen easily. 

“What’s your name?” His voice is deep and rich, as if Ren was speaking with the knowledge of a thousand masters before him. 

“That is First-Lieutenant Hux, Ren. He will be accompanying Second-Lieutenant Mack in order to assist any issues. He is also our sniper, so best to keep him intact,” interjected Alpine. “Now, back to the slides-”

“What do you think of him?” Ren leaned forward, his arms crossing on the steel conference table.

“I beg your pardon?” Hux flushed, sitting back as if to put distance between him and the Knight. 

“What do you think of Mack over there?” There was an almost sultry aspect to his voice, persuading and teasing Hux’s mind to spill his thoughts. “Worked with him previously and he is a bit of an upstart arsehole but I want to know what you are thinking. You’re very hard to read.”

Hux inhaled, his mind becoming almost glassy, wetting his lips to tell his innermost thoughts to the table but then…he pulled back from Ren’s violent gaze, unclenching his hands and resting his palms on his knees. Compulsion. A stupid Jedi mind trick. 

“I do not think that is any of your business.” His chin lifted up and his chest puffed up as if he was defending his thesis all over again to the academic board. 

“Come on, Lieutenant. Don’t you think that he is improper, disgusting at the fact he enjoys seeing his comrades be degraded? Clearly he has disregard for protocol, speaking so vile in a conference. He deserves punishment, does he not?” Ren queeried, a sick smile on his face. 

For a second, the air around Hux felt hard to breathe, as if something was compressing his body and the only way he could make it stop was to talk and say what Ren wanted him to say. 

Hux dug his palms into his knees and bit his cheek, hard. Copper leaked into his mouth. He did not go through fifteen years of borderline torture to falter now at a little bit of mind games 

“I am not going to tell you, Ren.” 

The masked Knights, usually unnervingly still, turned their heads, some leaning to one another as if to talk, others appearing to just be listening to Hux. no noise was exchanged between them, more than likely using the force to talk about him. Right. In. Fucking. Front. Of. Him. 

Children.

“Gentlemen, please,” begged Alpine, exasperated. “Hux, just give in. make it easier for everyone else.”

“I am your superior. Commander and all that, Lieutenant. I order you to talk. ”

Oh. He doesn’t read the First Order’s updates on colleague protocol and regulations. Hux knows this because he heard it in a dream once; a useless piece of legislation designed to stifle the chaos of the human mind. 

Too poetic for the redheads liking.

On that train of thought, when did he start trusting dreams so much? But the desire to outwit the Master of Ren outweighed Hux’s concern for his sanity. 

“Actually, you’re not.” A pleased smile threatened to curl up the corner of his lips. . “According to First Order regulations, members of different branches cannot pull rank in order to obtain information, in particular, when it comes to intelligence branches. Only authorised personnel, such as Generals or even colonels, can pull rank on subordinates in different branches. You are just a commander, Ren. ”

He turned to Alpine, who nodded.

“The kid is right. He’s shown he can’t fall for your tricks and I quite like that so, I hereby order Lieutenant Hux to never willingly tell the Knights of Ren what he is thinking.” She rolled her eyes. “Now that the pissing contest is over, let's get back to topic so I can finish this bloody briefing and go to sleep. We’d all like that, yes? To go back to bed?”

The table nodded but Hux and Ren continued to stare at one another.

The force-hand around his throat ceased to exist and Hux straightened his cap, leaning slightly back into his chair. Ren’s eyes squinted and his face seemed to minutely crunch up and for a second, the lieutenant was certain that the elder man would lunge over and slice him in half. The air certainly felt thick with that heavy, murderous intention but then, just like the hand around his throat, it disappeared and Ren leant back.

He crossed his arms and nodded once. 

“Carry on, Commander,” he ordered, and the knights turned back around from ‘whispering’ with Hux no longer being the centre of their attention. He was glad for it. 

The presentation continued, with the redhead taking mental notes of key points. It seemed that engineers were needed for structural and mechanical issues, an insurance policy for Knights of Ren in case Makeb’s gravitational issues caused quakes within the ruins. 

Hux tuned out the rest of the presentation as Byrne leaned to the side of his chair, feigning exhaustion with a hand covering his mouth in mock interest. 

“See what I mean, kid,” he mumbled. “‘Special qualities’. Not many, if any, could withstand what Ren just did. The only other people we know of are his knights.”

Hux held back a scoff.

“If I was force-sensitive, would I not know it, sir? Project Fallen Star and all that?”

The sun rose, casting warm, yellow light over Makeb’s many oceans and gently waking the cities of Yludset, if they were not already awake. 

A young woman slipped through her mistress’ door, nodding in greeting to the guards as she carried a tray of steaming hot mug of tea and plates of nibbles, fresh from the kitchen. She placed the tray on a small side table made out of wroshyr wood, the lacquer making the already golden wood glow with the early morning sun.

With her tribute safe on the table, the slave girl started pulling apart the sheer curtains to a lavish balcony, providing a stunning view for her lady.

It had been a long time since she had served the head female of the Huttese complex and hoped that everything that she had prepared would be up to the woman’s standards. The change from performer to maid/assistant was sudden, a notification from a guard only a few hours and the slave had quickly changed her appearance, straightening out her pin curls, swapping the pink paint on her eyelids for a flattering black eyeliner and trading the heavy swathes of robes for the most basic two piece she owned. 

“My lady,” she gently whispers, folding away even heavier curtains surrounding a four poster bed. “My lady, it is time to wake.” 

The light causes the occupant to growl, turning over and kicking off sheets. Nodding as she finishes tying back the green and gold fabric, the slave picks up a cup of tea and sits on the edge of the bed, watching as her mistress sits up, her curly salt-and-peppered hair in a mess. 

“Here, my lady.” She held out the cup, letting the elder woman take it and sip. 

“Good morning, Mye. No Kunae today?” Grumbles the lady, finishing the cup and placing it on the saucer Mye held out. 

Knowing her mistress' habits, Mye stood up, placing the cup back on the tray and retrieving a silk dressing gown thrown over a chair. She held it up.

“No, Madame Fevrendi.” Mye took a deep breath, stepping away and clasping her hands in front, head bent down. The Madame turned around after tying her dressing gown, staring at the blue-black haired girl.

“What is it, Mye? What happened to one of my girls?” She spoke softly and kindly, placing her hands on the young woman's arms. Mye sniffled. The lady placed a finger under her chin and lifted the girl's head up, looking into glassy almond eyes. “You can tell me. I will not be mad at you.”

“It’s…something happened to Kunae which broke one of the master’s rule. Though she was low ranking in his Menagerie, she was punished harshly.” 

“Taken to the Square?” Mye nodded. Madame Fevrendi sighed. “I am reminded that even the girls under my authority are still his.”

“Indeed,” the girl sniffled out, curtsying. “I am merely on loan to you from his harem until you decide upon a new handmaid.’

“And what if I were to pick you, Mye? I know it has been…years since you became the Bird of Makeb and you have sang for a decade! Perhaps it’s time for you to retire!”

“Ma’am, I am only twenty and we Jalpa’s live for more than a hundred-and-fifty years.” Mye’s eyebrows furrowed, creating unbecoming wrinkles on her forehead. “Besides, whilst I cannot serve customers and only sing from a distance, I am still incredibly popular! The master would not allow that to happen.”

“What about if we give you a scar? Make you ugly? Oh, what if we dye your hair?” The human gently tucked on the shiny hair, admiring the chromatic shift in the morning light. Mye giggled fondly.

“Have you missed me that much, my lady?” 

“Oh, my child, you know I have. Ever since you were brought here, small and crying, I vowed I’d look after you as much as I could. I’m just sorry I could not keep you away from him.”

They embraced like mother and daughter but Mye felt something bitter settle in her stomach at the affection. 

Her mother was killed at point blank range and it happened the last time Mye cried out for her, when she begged to be reunited with her family to Madam Fevrendi. Just another thing.

The doors opened suddenly. She immediately dropped to her knees, head bowed as Lord Fevrendi marched in with his arms wide open in greeting to his wife. 

Master Jemar Fevrendi was an ageing human man, his hair more grey than brown and his teeth replaced with silver. His clothes were vibrant shades of purple and pink, layers of robes upon robes, patterns that clashed and caused an eyesore to anyone who viewed him. 

“Wife, is it not a splendid morning!” 

“Indeed, it is, my love,” simpered Madam Fevrendi, kissing both of his cheeks and returning his embrace. “Thank you, for my gift this morning. You do know how I love Mye. She seems to be the only one around here knowing how to do my makeup correctly.”

Mye bent forward, head touching the ground in reverence to her masters, hair spilling onto the floor. The marble was cold on her knees, palms and forehead, the flowy trousers doing nothing to insulate her from the ground.

“My lady is too gracious,” spoke the slave, careful and delicate with her words in order to curry favour. 

“Yes, my little bird is perfect.” Master Favrendi walked around the kneeling slave, appreciating the curve of her spine and her pale, markless skin. “You shall have her, for a few weeks if it pleases you, wife. I am ashamed that Kunae was so…lackluster. I thought I had trained her to be better than that. Perhaps the Menagerie requires a reminder of my rules and what happens if they are broken.“

Right, more torture for us , thought the slave. 

What happened, husband? It was such a surprise to be awoken by my favourite girl and I am just confused as to this scenario you speak of.” Mye knew the sound her mistresses voice took, a false innocence that lured her husband into a false sense of security. She was fishing for secrets and answers. 

The Lord huffed, waving a hand in the air. 

“That whore disobeyed my rules. Was caught with some guard. They’re both in the Square right now and we no longer have to worry about such degeneracy.” 

“What a shame,” Madam Fevrendi said carefully. “But would you excuse me, my lord? I have yet to have my morning meal and guests will be arriving, you know how long it takes me to get dressed?” 

“Mmm, indeed, but I do not mind, you are my most precious flower.” He pinched her cheek, like one would do to a child, and left in a wave of fuschia. 

“Quick, quick, up you get,” Madam Fevrendi ushered, assisting Mye off the floor. She guided the girl to the bed, wrapping a blanket around her shoulders. “Damned man. Jalpas are such delicate creatures and he throws you around.”

Mye shakes her head slightly, tugging the blanket tighter, not bothering to dissuade the actions of her superior. 

“I heard from one of the elders in the Den that we’re not meant to be so…sensitive. I was raised wrong so my body is weaker. The cold should not bite as much as it does but the master's favourite method for my obedience is ice,” she mumbled. “Thank you, my lady, for keeping me warm but I really should help you wash and dress.”

Madam Fevrendi shook her head sharply. 

“I’ll hear none of it. Before I married him and well before he started to collect girls for himself, I could shower and dress by myself.” The lady walked towards her lavish refresher, unwrapping the robe. “And I have an old dress for you to wear, as well. We have some very special and interesting guests arriving and I will not have you dressed in that hideous shade of orange.”

“Who, my lady?”

“A group from a well known organisation, one that can challenge the Republic, have requested assistance in their survey of the planet and I have acquiesced. As long as we have some favours in exchange.” The sound of running water created an excess of noise but the woman's voice was clear and loud. “ The First Order . ”

Static filled Mye’s head. Flashes of white and red reflecting on mirror-like floors. Planets disintegrating by red beams. A man in gold. Men in black. A redheaded figure posturing in front of white, faceless creatures. 

It was him. He’s coming.

“Does the master know, my lady? Surely I am meant to entertain such highly esteemed guests,” she yelled back, attempting to keep a quiver from her voice. 

“No, and he shall never know.”

The Jalpa nodded, feeling the stirring of a plan, one that had been in motion for a long time. The sensation of hands resting on her shoulders jolted her as a myriad of voices whispered, ‘trust’ . 

Trust what?

Against her lady’s wishes, the young woman slipped off the bed, the blanket wrapped around her like a shroud and made her way into a humid refresher, steam flowing out of the door when she opened it. The humidity was wonderful for her cold bones and she slipped in, choosing a perch on an ornate stool. 

“Do you think this is wise?” Having spent all of her adult life in the company of the Lord and his fellows, Mye knew how to ask the right question to get the response she wanted. A quizzical intonation here and there, a sense of urgency added onto the end and the conversation would be hers to dictate.

A bottle cap opened up and the scent of roses and spice wafted through the steam. 

“Yes.” 

“I…forgive me for asking but, why?” 

“Mye, you know why.” She did. Or at least, she thought she did. Perhaps she must be bold in her responses.

“He needs to be stopped. This all needs to stop,” she supplied. “I know it is a strange thought and I shouldn't have these thoughts but…I dream.”

The shower flicked off and a hand reached out for a towel on a hook near the shower.

“What do you dream of, my dear?” 

The Jalpa thought for a second, carefully mulling over her words. In the fifteen years she had been a captive, Madame Favrendi had proven to be a trusted confidant and protector within the harem, if a little insane and murderous. Gods above, did she set the guard upon Kunae so I was here?

“Mainly being away from here but I also dream of my mother and my father and my siblings, all six of them. And then there’s home; warm, golden beaches, ocean so blue it hurts to look at and chains of mountainous islands all across the horizon.”

“Sounds a bit like Makeb to me.”

“Hmm, Makeb is worse. It’s thunderous and there are earthquakes every day. No, home is warm and safe and stable…” Mye did not cry. That was beaten out of her a long time ago. “And then I dream of a place…it's so dark and cold and orderly with a man infesting every shadow but, there is also a flame there, that burns so nice and neat, thriving like a flower in the desert. He’s quite cute too,” she whispered fondly. 

Oh, her dreams were an escape from reality and she welcomed them with open arms, letting sleep and visions course through her body like a tranquiliser. 

Sometimes, they were just memories that, in the daytime, were fuzzy and hazy but at night, were layered over with taste and texture and smells she hadn’t felt back then. So many perspectives, her mother’s, the captains, other families, providing an almost gyroscopic experience when she recounts the day the convoy was attacked. 

On other nights, she followed flashes of copper through terrain she had never experienced before; vast swathes of bulbous, silvery grass with purple and pink flowers growing like small, flattened trees. The hills were rock were hoofed creatures with thick coats and expressive, dark eyes scaled with their young. Moor ponies , said the Flame with childlike innocence, a faceless woman always tugging him away from the wild beasts whenever he got close. Then there would be rain, constant, near horizontal during the wet months. Whenever the rain started, Mye knew what would happen next as a rolling storm of blaster and bombs dropped on the Flame’s home, the child older, no longer a toddler. Rebels.  

Then, her dreams would turn cold and dark, blood spilling on black tiles or across pure white snow. She knew his face, the Flame, the eyes no longer young and bright but hardened and conniving. The eyes of a survivor. 

She did not like those dreams. She hated feeling people die, like something was ripping out of her chest as whispers of the dead followed the Flame. Her heart ached for him, pitied him even. 

“Dreaming of a young love, are you?” Teased the Madame, snapping Mye out of her thoughts. The woman was towling her hair and the young slave stood up, folding the blanket and placing it on the seat. 

“No, I wouldn't dare. It would upset my master.” Besides, how can I yearn for someone I have not even met. He is just a figment of my imagination, she thought. 

There was a sad, knowing smile on Lady Fevrendi’s face. She stepped forward, placing her hand on the Jalpa's cheek in an almost motherly fashion. 

“Soon,” she urged. “Soon you will be able to live a normal life. If today and the following days go according to plan then we shall be free.”

Mye’s eyebrows furrowed. 

“My lady? By we, do you mean…just us or all of us?” 

“If the First Order accepts the conditions of my help and information then it will be all of us but I will settle for you and I.” The older woman walked off, pulling on another silk dressing gown and leaving Mye astonished. 

Guilt suddenly warped through her body, stabbing her heart over and over again, just like how the Flame felt when the blood turned snow to pink slush and the trees were on fire. 

There is a plan, a scheme happening that could ensure her freedom…what would have been Kunae’s freedom if she hadn’t been sentenced to a slow and torturous death. 

Clarity suddenly came to her, the sensation of a plan forming in the back of her mind as she came to an understanding. 

“Speak to Lonkha,” something whispered. “Lonkha will help. Trust in him as you shall trust in the Force.”

Lonkha was a high ranking guard, moving between the Harem quarters, the slave holding and the breeding pens. The man, a human as well as Master Fevrendi trusted nobody but humans to be elevated above a normal slave status, was everywhere. 

And he just happened to be keeping watch outside of Madame Fevrendi’s door. 

Mye smiled.

Chapter Text

Entering Makeb’s atmosphere was rougher than Hux had anticipated but it did keep the company he was with silent. 

After the rather explosive scene between himself and Ren, nobody dared to look Hux in the eye, especially Mack, leaving the redhead to mull over the meeting, in particular, the reactions of his commanding officer. 

Byrne had merely shrugged Hux off when he mentioned Project Fallen Star , a standardised test of aptitude and…midochlorian count. Anybody who had tested above the level of ‘normal’ were seized and taken away. It was meant to be a secret that would never reach the light of day but files had been leaked onto the holonet by an unknown traitor. 

Colby had a keen interest and had spent many nights huddled next to Armitage, reading the latest drop in confidential material. The demonstrators and administration of the academy had, of course, ordered the cadets to stop reading ‘falsified’ material but that didn’t stop Armitage’s paramour. No, the future communications officer decided to dig deep into the database, cross referencing serial numbers to students, file numbers to documents. 

“Hey, Taj,” spoke the blonde, barging past Armitage as he stepped into the cadets quarters. “New files dropped.”

“Colby, how many times do I have to tell you; this is against orders. you , me , we could be court martialed just thinking about it. ”m

“Don’t be such a worry wart, Taj.” He flopped onto the redheads bed, dumping his cap and bag onto the floor and toeing off his boots. Armitage, a stickler for order, started tucking away the personal items underneath his desk before perching on the edge of the bed. 

Colby was engrossed, more so than usual. Tentatively, he placed a hand on his lovers knee. 

“What’s wrong?”

“Our serial numbers have come up.” Something cold washed over Hux. 

He snatched the datapad and started scrolling through the leaked report. Hayes sat up on his forearms, watching and distinguishing the emotions flickering over the other cadets face. 

“I scored-”

“Well below average, Taj. Like, you are so normal it's abnormal .” Armitage looked up deadpan. 

“If I was so ‘abnormal’, I would have been snatched.”

“I believe the proper term is ‘transferred to an internship’,” teased Colby before his face turned serious in an afterthought. “twenty people from our unit were ‘transferred’ and you could have been another. You know the rumours; they’re either dead or training to become the new sith.”

“And?”

“And twenty of our unit have been snatched!”

Armitage dropped the datapad onto his pillow and slumped down, laying near enough on top of Hayes. 

“The First Order has its reason, Colby. It’s not in our place to question,” he soothed. “Besides, I am considered one of the most dull people in the cohort, let me be even more boring.” 

Armitage Hux’s unit was the last to be leaked. No names were attached, just numbers, but he knew, personally, only three out of the twenty that taken: Jess, Deriak and Milo. Three who scored slightly too high to be considered ‘safe’ to the rest of the order. Colby had mourned privately as Jess was his childhood  friend from his hometown and, against his instincts to comfort, Hux had merely turned his lip up and looked away. 

He hadn’t dreamt of them, not like he has of the knights and the girl. They had simply disappeared into the archives and the First Order database sealed itself back up once more. That was three years ago. 

They were told that the Force users were defective people, to be sought and killed on sight but then the Knights had been brought into the fold and suddenly, those with Jedi-like predispositions were hailed as killers and murderers that could be trained for the use of the Supreme Leader. 

Perhaps he was abnormal. 

Galidraan was not an accident, at least according to Byrne, but the meeting had proven that he was not normal. 

And that made him a threat. 

Colby was right, they did have an exorbitant amount of Force-sensitive in their unit; others had perhaps one or two out of fifty but forty-percent of his had been taken away and if he hadn’t presented so lowly…

No, that's not how that works. 

Somebody falsified his number, they had to have (why, though, Hux had no idea). 

Then when the files came out and serial numbers were cross referenced and suddenly everyone wanted to know their midochlorian count…admin must have picked up the discrepancy and then…Galidraan. 

Why snatch when you could wipe out the entire unit with ease? It certainly would have been more efficient to kill than imprison and the paperwork would surely have been less. 

Hux touched his side, almost feeling the shrapnel and the bone fragment still lodged in his rib. 

Galidraan was thus meant to kill him and his unit but they didn’t expect for units to be condensed together, whoever they were. Instead of thirty they killed twice, if not thrice that amount. 

If his assumptions were correct then he’s looking at somebody from High Command; somebody who had the power and influence, but also the stupidity, to wipe out so many cadets. He should also be looking for personnel who had access to top secret records and potentially have motive to lie about his tests. Probably a New Republic sympathiser. 

The shuttle jostled under the gravitational distortion and the landing party grasped for their harness but Armitage sat back, darkness lapping at his bones as he mulled over his thoughts. Ren, helmless once more with two other knights, shrouded instead of encased in metal, watched the glassy eyed redhead, sensing a ripple in the Force. 

“He is dangerous,” thought Ap’lek to his comrades and sent an image of a silver handle lodged in the back, right through the kidneys, of a faceless and nameless First Order officer. 

Vicrul responded: “Like a volcano. Ready and waiting for its turn.”.  

The depiction of molten lava spreading across pearl white rocks assaulted Ren’s senses and a sudden onslaught of smoke knocked him back, eyes rolling into the back of his head.

He was about to reprimand Vicrul when a calmer effigy dusted across his inner mind. 

All of the Knights of Ren, even those that were left at the Academy, melted into the vision, joined by their cult, and poured their energy into creating a clearer image. 

A man and a woman stood side by side in the shadows. 

A bright, yellow sun rose behind them as a silvery moon descended. 

Blood was both pooling and receding at their feet. Absorbed and shedded. 

The celestials collided in an eclipse, light and darkness engulfing the Knights. 

A pure white halo illuminated the figures as the eclipse collapsed into a black hole. 

An awakening? No, Awakenings rarely happened as the Force grew with the person and never bursted out of them like Luke Skywalker’s had done. But this wasn’t a steady drip either and the First Order didn’t allow their members to grow up as one with the Force. 

Armitage Hux was an enigma, as if he was protected by the Force itself because there was no way, at least in the material world, that the boy could present as a Force-null and yet pull his entire cult halfway across the universe into a vision. 

Ap’lek and Vicrul fidgeted, something they rarely did, tugging at their shawls and head coverings. They were uncomfortable and that never happens.  

They had grown used to living in isolation on their planet till the Supreme Leader, in all his darkness, pulled them into the Galaxy’s politics under payment of death. He had said that there was to be an Awakening, a boy that they must train in the ways of the dark side.

Was this the one they were meant to take under their wings? 

Supreme Leader Snoke had said that the boy would be powerful and that they, the Knights, would sense him and his dark deeds, know that his future lies in the path of shadow from halfway across the galaxy but the man sharing his air was not a man, no, go through what Hux has and you would never taste the innocence of childhood again. 

And then, there was his Force signature, diffusing through a barrier and causing Ren’s top two knights to become unsettled (“always be wary of those who are stronger than you”, a mantra installed into every generation of cult members). 

“Settle, friends. We must watch him; more than we did before,” he commanded down their Force bond, sending the sensation of calm rivers and strong hands settling on their shoulders. 

“Is he the One?” A flash of red lightsaber illuminating orange hair fluttered across Ren’s mind and he brushed it away. 

“Perhaps.”  He remembered the vision, the two figures bathed in light and darkness. “There is another.” 

“A dyad?” Vicrul queeried. “Something as strong as a dyad bond would be prophesied by the Ancients.”

Ren hummed and nodded, garnering the attention of Hux, whose eyes narrowed in suspicion. 

“Cardo will no doubt be working through archives.” One of the oldest serving knights, Cardo was obsessed with knowledge, whether it be for weapons or religious purposes, and after the vision ended, he would have scurried away to either a datapad or even back to their home planet for their library. “Contact Kuruk or the Night Buzzard in a day's time.”

“Yes, Master.”

The shuttle lurched a few more times before settling into a smooth glide, having passed through the gravity storms. 

Major Haylard stood up and clutched a handle on the ceiling. 

“You all should know your roles by now but before we land, I want to hear each and every one of you to state your identities.” His tanned hand tapped his chest. “I am Emissary Dalebar, peruser and buyer for a faceless overlord.”

Jaurek went next, dressed in a sky blue romper and navy overcoat:

“Doctor Athekas Rathgar, medical. I check slaves for any diseases so that we are not swindled.”

“Brim Galbrode, assistant to the Emissary and doctor if need be. I go wherever I am needed,” spoke Hux.

“We are security. We find out where the threats are,” grinned Ren before turning to Mack, who stewed in his seat. Yes, the manchild was a threat in his incompetence. It wouldn’t be the first time if the Knights of Ren had ‘vanished’ a team member.

“Reid. I…stay with the ship.” He huffed, before looking at the Major. “Sir, I am the senior engineer. I should be going with you-”

“No, you will not be going anywhere other than the hanger,” responded Jaurek, looking down at him. “Just be glad that you weren’t court martialled, Lieutenant, for disrupting an official meeting and ignoring proper protocol.” 

Mack gave another huff but shut up, crossing his arms and glared at Hux. The redhead stared back, unfazed. Hux was not to be blamed for Mack’s lack of basic respect and dignity…granted, his thoughts were seen by Ren but still, it was not his fault. 

The shuttle finally landed and all members who were offloading picked up their packs and luggage. For Hux, that consisted of a satchel filled with all the necessary assistant things as well as engineering tools he might need, his suitcase filled with extra clothes, though they did not plan to be around for long, and in another case was a broken down snipper blaster, waiting to be put back together. 

The major disembarked first, no luggage in his hands, with the captain to his left and Hux to his right who had his satchel swung over his shoulder and his blaster case in hand.

Makeb, once you had flown past the atmospheric storm, was, reasonably, stunning. The compound was on top of the tallest pillar in the hemisphere, providing a long, panoramic view of the lakes and oceans. Ozone was prominent and Hux could smell it even with the sea breeze, the combination of salt and bleach irritating his nose. He endeavoured to not breathe too hard.

“Welcome, welcome, welcome,” called out a feminine voice and Hux snapped his attention forward. An ageing human woman was striding out of the building connected to the hanger, her two toned purple-pink dress fluttering around in the wind. “Welcome, dear soldiers.”

“My lady,” acknowledged the major, shaking her outstretched hand with a slight bow in his back. “Captain, Lieutenant, this is Madame Fevrendi. She will be assisting our mission.”

“Oh, not just by myself. I have one of my most trusted slaves working as my assistant.” She brushed the majors concerned twittering, twisting on her feet and calling out to the sandstone building. “Mye! Mye! Do forgive me that she is not here; some of my husband's people were getting too nosy and I had to get her to shoo them away.”

A young woman stepped out from the shadows, a trail of men following her. Her long blue sleeves slipped down her arm, spots littered along the elbow and bicep as she pointed to the hangers, hair fluttering in the wind, covering her face but when it caught the sun, a myriad of rainbows erupted across the dark locks.

Armitage’s heart stopped beating momentarily and his bags dropped to the floor. Could it be her?

Voices could be heard over the wind and Hux recognised it as a more lyrical version of Huttese. Eventually, the men conceded, bowing before running away from her. She took a moment, tucking straight hair behind her ear and Armitage felt like he was going to collapse (he would not, he instinctively locked up his knees into a parade rest).

He knew that side profile, the soft curve of her brow ridge, the straight nose and the lips…those lips that had kissed him in his dreams. 

As if she could hear him thinking of her, her head snapped forward, sharp eyes studying him as her mouth opened in a small gasp. Then, she gave a small, barely there smile. 

“Mye! Stop dawdling!” Snapped out of her stupor, Mye ( her name is Mye!) the slave picked up her ultramarine skirts and jogged over to the group. 

She curtsied, hands clasped in front of her stomach, head bowed with a practised poise. 

“Forgive me, my lady.” 

“Nothing to forgive, my dear.” The human pats the top of the girls head like Hux had done to the Moor ponies. Disgusting . “Mye, these are the representatives of the First Or-”

The Jalpa grabbed her lady’s arm, squeezing it with a warning look. 

“Not here, my lady. Lonkha was able to secure rooms however, he could not put his own staff into the roster. I do not know these ones.” Those brown, near golden eyes that have haunted Hux squint sharply as   she watched a lackey carry their luggage. “They’re probably watchdogs for the lord.”

“Right,” Madame Fevrendi drawled. “Best we adjourn then. Mye, see that the assistant is familiar with our humble abode.”

Mye curtsied and the major held out his elbow for the lady to take, escorting her into the compound, with Jaurek trailing behind and leaving Hux alone with the young woman. 

He wasn’t prone to hysterics, that was trained out of him, but he would be lying if he said his heart rate didn’t spike and a sheen of nervous sweat covered his skin. 

The slave stepped forward to him, leaving only an arms length between them. They studied one another, comparing memories of dreams to the real life being. 

For Hux, she was younger than he remembered, soft and scared with only a hint of her intelligence shining through. No sharp comebacks or deadly analysis he had dreamt of. No, she was just…trapped. She was underdeveloped compared to Dream Mye, lacklustre and would be boring to him if he wasn’t enraptured by her very existence.

The sea breeze caused his eyes to burn and he pressed on them, trying to wipe out salt or dirt or something. But, for a split second he thought he saw a different place…a sandy place with a young blonde boy standing in front of him. 

It all starts here , whispered the wind and with a final blink, Hux was back on Makeb. 

From Mye’s perspective, this was her Flame. The same eyes, the same hair, the same gait he had developed so as to not stretch out the still-healing synth flesh on his side. 

He was here, in front of her. So close and yet so far. 

Something stirred within her soul, lashing and chomping to feel the Flame skin, to know his scars and freckles like her own skin markings. She needed to know what it felt like to have his voice whisper in her ear; to have his chest to her back as they stood on a ship bridge and watched the stars together in total darkness. 

“I’ve dreamt of you,” she blurted out before looking away, a blush settling across her cheekbones.

“I-“ Gods above, I never stutter, thought Armitage. “I’ve dreamt of you too.” 

He stuck out a hand in a formal human greeting, feeling as nervous as he had when he kissed Colby for the first time. All jittery butterflies in his stomach. “Brim Galbrode.” 

Mye stepped back, even if it went against the yearning to get closer. She looked left and right, checking to see if the master’s spies were around. There was no-one around for now and she could move closer, take his hand, feel his rough skin against hers and know how warm he is. 

But, she shook her head, folding delicate hands into her sleeves as if to stop herself from reaching out. 

It was like the past decade of rules being beaten into her brain and marked on her skin had never happened when she was around this ‘Brim Galbrode’ (more than likely not even his real name).. 

“Forgive me, it is against my master's rules to touch another male. I do not wish to get either of us into trouble.” The young woman gave a shallow bow and Hux retracted his hand. 

It wasn’t how he thought meeting the Dream Girl would go. Granted, he never expected to meet her at all (and near enough lose his dignity and composure in the process. Did he really have to stutter?)

“Besides,” Mye said, straightening up. “I will not greet you properly until I know your real name. All I know is that you are a lieutenant and a name like ‘Brim Galbrode’ is not…dignified for someone of your background.” 

“My background?” Raising an eyebrow, Armitage had stepped forward, ignoring her caution, curious as to what her dreams were off. “What do you know about my background, Mye?”

The slave could feel his breath ghost her face and sensed a static that rose and fell with each synchronised inhale. It was indecent to be this close to another man, she should step away once more, but Mye found herself intoxicated by it all, entrapped by the buzzing in her ears when she looked at him. She fought  the urge to press her hands to his chest and feel the pulse of something , whatever was binding them by pressing her nails into her skin, keeping her somewhat grounded.

“I know of a rainy planet-“

“Arkansis,” he jutted in, breathless and wide eyed.

“I’ve seen the hoofed creatures, your mother…your father…it’s as if I know you more than I know myself.” Her voice was breathless. “Do you know me, like I know you?” 

‘Brim Galbrode’ looks away, deliberating what to say before staring deep into her eyes once more. 

“I do. I’ve dreamt that you are free…free to touch whoever you want.” As if to confirm his point, Hux’s hand ghosted her arm, their body heat being the only thing to have touched. “I see you with me. I see us years from now, bound as one with strong allies at our side.”

At the mention of binding, Mye paced backwards, a twinge of uncertainty on her face. 

Her absence from Hux’s personal space caused the electricity that had been bubbling between the two of them to fizzle completely, leaving the young man confused.

A knot had formed in Mye’s belly. A tension in Hux’s chest impaired his breathing, an itch in his arms to drag her back to him and rejoin whatever power they shared. 

It must be power, or, dare he think it, the Force. 

A bell rang through the compound. 

“That would be the dinner service for guests,” stated Mye, turning in her heels, muscle memory turning her into the perfect image of an obedient servant. “Please, follow me and then we may start the tour.”

Unbeknownst to the pair, Ren had watched from the shadows of the ship, Ap’lek and Victul at his side.

Chapter Text

Hux had dropped his luggage with a footman droid once he was in the compound and immediately, he despised the place. 

The sandstone on the walls were painted in a deep rose pink, a colour that clashed with the red and white chequered floor and the gold foiled furniture. Whilst the hall was an eyesore, it did make Mye stand out even more, pulling attention to the blue dress and her chromatic hair and the guards stationed at entry points watched her enviously. 

Weirdly enough, a pang of jealousy constricted his chest when one guard watched far too long. The human male dressed in metal and leather reached out to Mye, his hand halting her movement. 

“Lonkha, I am with a client of the Madame and Master. Do not make him wait for food,” she spoke clearly, head tilted like a bird. 

“Forgive me, Consort, but something has come up that requires your attention.” He gave a bow and held out a piece of paper which Mye took, the flowy sleeves covering her hands. 

She unfolded it, read it, then ripped it up into tiny sections before throwing it out of a nearby window. 

“Thank you for bringing this to my attention. Back to your post.” Mye was calm and controlled, not what Hux expected her to be when she interacted with other slaves. And this ‘Lonkha’ had called her ‘Consort’, as if it was a title but she was still treated like a pet by the Madame. 

They started walking again, coming across a turbolift to take them deeper into the complex. He scoured the inside, looking up and down for cameras and there seemed to be none which, in Hux’s head, meant there was at least one hidden, perhaps even a microphone. Granted, the lift seemed to be pre-Empire, dare he say pre-Republic, which would make it even harder to plant some sort of monitoring device without notifying the occupants. Still, he should be careful of his actions. 

The lifts closed as Mye input the floor number, level one-hundred-and-eighty-five, fifty floors below them. 

“I knew this place was huge but how many levels are there?” Queeried Hux, playing dumb for the microphones, if there were any. 

“Two-hundred-and-thirty-five, thought the lower sixty floors are out of bounds to all-”

“Why?” She turned on her heels and leant against the closed doors, relaxed in his presence. There was a tiredness in her shoulders but her small smirk implied she had already had answers to questions he had yet to answer.

“Flooding. Radiation. Anything and everything to keep people where the Master wants them. Also, there aren’t any microphones or cameras in here and the turbolift takes so long we might as well have a picnic.”

“How do you know?” 

“Because he had attempted to implant devices before but since the foundation of the Master’s compound is so old, including the technology, it was too pricey to upgrade the lift and turboshaft. And the pre-Rebublic camera system…and the steal in the foundations…and the-”

“I get it,” he interjected, holding a hand up. “This place could crash down at any point.”

“Pretty much. The gold, the marble, it's all a facade. It’s mainly the people you should be wary of.” 

“Is that why you ripped and threw out the note?” She nodded and he crossed his arms. “What was on it?”

Mye checked the floor level (two-hundred-and-thirty) and took a deep, calming breath, brushing her hair behind her back. 

She studied him, eyes crinkling as she deliberated if he trusted him.

“We’re planning on getting out of here.” She was still leant against the door, face stoney rather than teasingly knowledgeable. “The harem and the upper guards we can trust are…close to getting out of here. I only just contacted Lonkha, the man you saw giving me the note, and…turns out the head Consort, Cirian, just needs a moment of chaos to finalise everything. We’ll be gone at the earliest opportunity.”

Hux stepped forward, the drilled instinct to mumble plans overtaking him. Though, he kept a reasonable distance between them, respecting the rules and distance Mye had placed between them. 

“How much do you know of our plan?” He asked. She shrugged. 

“Not much other than I know the Master will die and we are to assist with your mission in return.”

“That’s my secondary mission; I am a trained marksman-”

“Then you have already failed. You will be unable to shoot him.”

“Why is that?” His eyebrow raised.

“We are going deeper into a big, old pillar of stone. The deeper we are, the safer the Master feels-”

“And his rooms are not accessible for a sniper.” They nodded at the same time, Hux humming in displeasure and Mye pleased at how quick he caught on.

“Exactly.”

“What about the landing platform?”

“No, he never goes outside. I’m sorry.”

The long, dissatisfied huff he gave brushed over her cheeks, the tingling of a thousand future touches rendering her breathless.

“No need.” The look he gave her was a soft, understanding one, like the kind his mother used to give him. “You have done well, giving me this information. Will you continue to be our informant?” 

“Of course,” she blurted out, wanting more opportunities to be near her Flame. But, after a moment of consideration (the note, Cirian, Kunae and the other forsaken consorts), she added a condition. “Just as long as you don’t come in between our freedom.” 

 He nodded slightly. 

“I can’t make those calls but, I will strongly insist.”

“Thank you.” 

They both looked at the floor counter. Hux paced back and Mye woefully stopped leaning on the lift doors, straightening her dress with her back to the redhead. 

“One more question, Mye: what happens if you are touched by another man?” 

“Well, we’d both be beaten to an inch of our lives and then strung up in the Square.” Her voice was emotionless, equal in its tone. 

“The Square?” 

“You’ll see.” 

The doors slid open and the pair we met with warm artificial lights illuminating cream washed stone. 

They walked down the hall together, the First Order officer maintaining a decent between him and the slave. Expensive pieces of artwork hung on the walls, masking water damage to the rock and Hux was eerily reminded of his own fathers sense of austerity. 

Servants and guards passed by, bowing down to both Mye and himself, keeping themselves to the walls so as to not sully Hux if they brushed past him. There was a dim echo of chatter and music, probably from the dinner service, but the hall itself was silent. 

He trailed behind the Dream Girl, the lowlight becoming an injustice to her beauty as he watched the way the oversized robe hid her figure. As if she felt him, she turned her head around and jerked her head to the side. They turned down a corner where there was no sound and only guards. The warm lighting turned cold, bright and artificial as the painted walls became rough and worn stone. 

And then suddenly there was the Square. 

A carved out wound in the mountain with a flattened pillar in the centre and a rusty beam connecting the two, a curtain of wire stopping anybody from jumping. In the centre of the white column was a metal spike and chained to it…were bodies.

Broken, bloodied bodies. 

Their hands and knecks were cuffed as they slouched. 

“If a slave disobeys, in any way, they are sent here to die from starvation and dehydration but more than likely from their wounds,” whispered Mye quietly, a tone of sorrow in her voice. 

The hole made her voice echo, though, and one of the messy bodies looked up, slowly. It’s face was so badly damaged that Hux wasn’t sure what it was. 

A gargle was heard and the Jalpa turned away immediately, a hand to her mouth. She quickly moved back towards the busier hallway and Hux quickly followed her. 

Gods, it was…horrifying.

Torture was common in the First Order but it was done elegantly, cleanly. More so, now, that the Knights of Ren had joined their ranks with their telepathic forms of extracting information. But to reduce something, somebody , to a loving corpse…have their flesh falling off their skull like that and still be alive? 

The sudden urge to vomit bubbled up his throat and it took a lot of willpower to force it back down, to not show weakness to the helmed guards. 

Mye seemed to be faring the same way; her shoulders seemed to be tense, from what he could see of them and her steps were shortened, tense. In the future, where there was no ‘master’ between them, he would reach out, rub her arms or hands or her hair back if need be. 

The artwork seemed even more tainted when Armitage looked at them in a glance. 

“Consort Mye, there you are!” A greying blonde in a floaty orange two piece stalked her towards the pair and Mye, stiffly, bowed. 

“High Consort Cirian, forgive my tardiness but Assistant Brim Galbrode was curious of our facilities.”

The blonde bowed to him and Hux nodded his head in return. 

“The Master and Madame were wondering where you had wandered off to,” the human spoke tensely, a sharp, eagle eye glazing over Hux. 

He held his hand up in peace. 

“Nothing untoward has occurred, if that is what you're implying.” Especially after what I just saw. 

“Did Mye show you the Square?” He nodded once more, this time coughing as his throat felt acidic once more. “Then you are aware of the consequences of touching one of the Harem?” 

Mye placed a placating hand on the human’s bare arm. 

“Sister, do not worry. We just saw Kunae…” Or what is left of her. 

Cirian’s attitude turned soft and she stroked the top of Mye’s head in a sweet, gentle manner, almost motherly.  

“I know you two were close but she was a traitor, sweet one.” The back of her fingers brushed the Jalpa’s cheek in a tender fashion. “Best we forget that she ever existed, as is our Master’s wishes .” 

Then, the human turned her focus back onto Armitage, looking him up and down. 

“Besides.” Her voice turned chipper, more than likely fake. “I do wonder why you took an assistant on the official tour. He is, in our Master’s eyes, a serf. When dinner is done, I expect you will, as the Madame’s hand, take him through the back passages and show him where his place is.” 

“Behind the scenes, of course, sister. Forgive me once more, it has been a while since I served the Madame.” 

The two consorts gave one another understanding looks, Mye, though, still being pale and borderline queasy. 

“Come,” Cirian ordered. “The second course is being served.” 

She linked arms with her younger companion, almost dragging the twenty year old, with Hux, once again, trailing behind. 

He endeavoured to always keep a foot of distance between him and whoever else was part of the Harem. 

The hallway opened up to a large dining area, filled with light from the sun as it streamed through a carved balcony. Pillows of various candy coloured shades were thrown about next to low tables with the occasional collared and scantily clad slave lounging on them. Curtains, in a rich purple hue, fluttered in a pre-storm wind and drew Hux’s attention to the high table at the far end of the building. 

In the centre was a human male, Master Fevrendi, with his wife to his left and Hux’s commander to his right. The captain accompanied the major, focusing on her meal rather than looking around at the den of debauchery. The Knights of Reb had finally managed to drag themselves out of the ship and they stood stoically at the far wall, watching the room. 

Females of many species were sitting or slouching in front of the table, some collared with chains connecting them to the Master, some not, and Hux extrapolated that this must be the rest of the Harem. 

Mye and Cirian curtsied at the same time. 

“My Master,” they both sad with a saccharine-like sweetness, fake smiles plastered on their faces. Honestly, the redhead was impressed with how easily Mye had switched from pale horror to adoration. Though, a huttese slave den was probably no different to the First Order Academy, minus the sex and fighting rings. 

“My dears, my dears, what took so long?” The Master admonished. 

“Assistant Galbrode was curious about our humble abode.” There was a teasing lilt to the Jalpa’s voice as she swanned up the steps so as to lean all over the old man like a cat. “It’s not everyday I get to show somebody around. I’m sorry, sir. I wasn’t bad, was I?”

She pouted and Cirian joined in on the lean, showering the Master with attention and adoration. The blonde seemed to show her affection through grooming as she started to card her fingers through the black and white hair whilst the chromatic-haired woman stroked the man’s face in an almost seductive manner (once again, Hux had to swallow down the urge to hurl, his eyes hurting at the two Mye’s he knew/will know). 

The Knights, for some reason, zeroed in on Mye as she spoke. They rippled with curiosity, like a predator watching prey play. 

“Of course not, my favourites. My most beautiful-“ he grabbed Mye’s hand, rubbing and kissing the skin (a flare of unreasonable jealous constricted Hux’s chest). “-And my most loyal-“ he gave similar attention to Cirian’s hand. 

He pushed back his seat and Mye sat herself down on his knee whilst Cirian started to massage his shoulders. Placated by his women, Master Fevrendi turned his attention onto Hux. 

“Come, come, my boy,” he ushered and Hux stepped forward, mindful of how close a seated Twi’lek was to his leg. He looked down, visibly gulped as he realised he was but a few centimetres from nudging smooth green skin with his shoe. “Not everyday you see so much flesh, is it, boy?” 

“N-no, sir.” He forced his attention back onto the man, showing his flustered-ness. “I just graduated from my college…not much time for…frivolity.” 

The human man laughed and his Harem chuckled with him, some teasing him with a shimmy of chests or thighs. 

Of course, with Colby, naked bodies weren’t a thing to be scared of but Hux did come from a very prudish and modest upbringing, the most skin he’d have shown off in the Academy being the occasional t-shirt or shorts he wore during PT. Nothing like a bikini or simpler sheer fabric wrapped around a body was shown off in the Academy. 

“Of course not. You are still young!” The man pointed with joviality. “My father took me to my first brothel when I was thirteen! Dalebar, how come you have not blooded this young man yet? He is in your care, after all.”

Fevrendi jokingly punch Major Haylard in the arm and Hux watched as his commander bit back an order. Instead, he awkwardly chuckled. 

“It is not in our organisations nature to pry into our workers lives.” Well, that was a bold faced lie , thought Armitage. The Order ‘pries’ into everything. 

The Master guffawed. 

“Well, you are in my home-“ 

“And what a lovely home it is,” interjected the Captain, nodding and smiling gracefully to the Madame and Master. 

“-And I say that he must be blooded. Peruse any of my stock, male, female or in between, whatever takes your fancy and have them for the night.” Wolf whistles came from the ‘stock’ and Master Fevrendi held up a finger. “But, my harem is out of bounds. These lovely girls are all mine. ”

Embarrassment gave way to disgust. Yet, Hux stomached it, nodding in gratitude rather than saying it verbally (lest he tell this vile man to shove it where the sun doesn’t shine).  

The man clapped his hands. 

“Now, you are late for dinner and we haven’t got another setting sorted out so I will have Mye- “ he booped her on the nose and the Jalpa gave a vigorous giggle and wiggle (Captain Jaurek rolled her eyes and gagged into her soup), “-show you to the kitchens. You two may eat there and then she will take you to your lords room.” 

Mye slipped off his knee, placing a kiss on his cheek and brushed the lower back of Cirian as she walked past the elder human. When she strutted in front of the Knights, she glanced at them till she was at the stairs, her face blank as if she was trying to read them. 

Hux intercepted her path as she made her way down the steps, coughing so as to snap her out of the reverie. He motioned for her to take lead once more and they made their way to the kitchens. 

“There is something weird about those hooded people,” she whispered to him, her voice normal and less squeaky as it was when she was with her master. Hux huffed. 

“I would not worry about them too much. Force-users and arrogant ones at that. They’re here for the mission and will do what they can to fulfil it. Best to stay out of their way,” he advised. 

“Force-users?” 

A pleasant warmth ran down her spine at the mention of the Force. A refreshing spray of cool fanned Hux’s face. 

May the Force be with you two. 

Chapter Text

There was a time, in the Golden Age of the Old Republic, where the Force flourished even if it was tipping out of balance. The Dark and Light were in constant clashes. The Jedi were not yet fighting for the Republic and the Sith existed with bountiful numbers, eventually separating into sub factions, different cults focusing on different aspects of the Dark side. 

The Knights of Ren themselves were descents of the Cult of Ren, or, the Cult of the Lightsaber to those not in the know. The original founders focused on the more material side of the Force, learning and developing how to interact with the Force-imbued rocks, stones, bones and even shells. They were of the mind that the Force gave everything a soul, especially the objects used in the core of lightsabers, and so meditation with your blade was the most common and enforced aspect of their practice. 

Sometimes, back when their numbers were in the thousands and their home planet was not a sandy and glassed death world, meditating with your crystal for such a long period of time broke the barrier between the material and the ethereal. The Seers of Ren were powerful, connected to one another and their blades in such an intimate fashion which in turn led to Force visions, prophecies of the past and the future, becoming regularly documented. 

Majority of the time they were small things, a glance at everyday life (the Ancients had a saying: ‘if a Seer tells you not to eat the stew, you do not ask why’) with only a major battle being sensed a couple of times during the year. There was an even rarer event in which the Force would let the Seers know of a person, or a group, that would change the ebb and flow of the future. An example would be the well known Prophecy of the Chosen One which was heralded by the Jedi and shunned by the Sith, for obvious reasons. 

Rianoth, the homeworld, housed the prophecies underground with copies placed all around the planet. They were of the mind that knowledge was freedom and would deepen your connection to the Force and your ‘saber in turn and so the prophecies would have been read by all, children, knights, elders and civilians. It was their desire to educate their population that ultimately protected a collection of scrolls from the nuclear bombardment done by an unknown enemy (perhaps a Seer foresaw the death of their planet). 

This is where Cardo found himself with his brothers and sisters following him through the wreckage of their home planet. 

Nestled in between two peaks, the Mountain of Fortitude and the Mountain of Irresoluteness, was an ancient tree, one that had seen the first bird calls of Rianoth and sitting inside its aerial roots was a crumbling temple entrance. Blackened stone was being held up only through the amount of plant life and roots that wormed their way down into the salty soil. 

It was called ‘the Soul’ and was the place where initiates went to communicate with the past members of the cult, primarily the Sith Knights. 

Kuruk, Cardo, Ushar and Trudgen stood in front of the Soul, feeling the pull of the dark void they faced. 

“The Ancients are excited,” stated Ushar, unclipping her helmet. The cool wind whistled with screams from the Red Desert and phantom hands tugged at her shawl. It always made her feel uneasy. “I think we should be at the Heart by nightfall.” 

She turned her head and saw the glint of shattered red Kyber crystal. It shone too brightly today, the ghosts of the victims flooding their broken lightsabers with their spirits. The last time the Ancients tried to re-enter the material world, they lost their only initiate. 

Trudgen, the biggest of all the Knights, physically shuddered. He pressed an image of that night , the glittering of red lights and glowing green flashes spewing from the Desert, the oppressive darkness of the shadows and the terrifying shrieks of thousands of souls perishing.

“I can feel it too.” He too took off his helmet, placing into an outcrop of rock before unclipping the rest of his armour. “Best we start to look.”

The thing about the Soul was that the Seers that once lived there, and whose souls now protect the temple, were robe-wearers, no armour and only their preferred ‘saber core on them. It was impolite to step over their threshold with protection, a defilement of the cult’s sacred belief that to accept Death was to know the Force. 

The Knights stripped and settled down into a circle with their lightsabers in front of them. They each called upon the core, welcoming it like a friend and beckoning it into the light. Rocks started to float as the various weapons lifted off the ground, metal plates and screws coming undone to show various shapes and sizes of red Kyber crystals. The canisters dropped to the dying grass and the rock slowly settled back down onto the floor as the Knights picked up their crystals. 

Trudgen preferred to have his closest to his heart when he entered the Soul, tucking it into a breast pocket on his undershirt. Kuruk preferred her crystal to be out in the light, refracting and reflecting and so she held onto it tight, sacrificing a hand in case of combat. Both Cardo and Ushar disagreed with Kuruk and placed their crystals into pouches that would hang around their necks, thin, braided stands knotted together to keep the core in place. 

They all tucked their belongings neatly under the tree roots, just as their forebears had done, and stood in front of the entrance to the Soul.

Cardo held out his crystal, sensing its Force signature dance with the Seer spirits. 

“We all know what we’re looking for, yes?” His siblings nodded. “Then may Ren protect us.”

He descended first, more used to the crushing Darkness then the rest, purely from his own academic curiosity. The stairs were steep and only visible by the red glow of his crystal, the damp of thousands of years trickling down the stone. The Seer spirits were waiting for them, tugging at Cardo’s heels with hands he could not see. 

The others pulled out their Kyber, illuminating the steep corridor even further. Ghostly breath followed them and one particular Seer hissed, causing Trudgen to scream. The man barrelled past Cardo, causing the man to slip and slide down the stairs.

“I FUCKING HATE THIS PLACE!” he yelled, barreling towards a dim light. The Seers gave a deathly chuckle as the Knight entered the crypt, seeking refuge in the one place where the spirits weren’t active as much. 

“THIS IS WHY MASTER REN DIDN’T PICK YOU!” screeched Cardo, rubbing the back of his head. Ushar and Kuruk checked in on him, the former crouching and rubbing up and down the mans back. He groaned, trying to stretch out the kink formed in his spine by the impact.

“Hey, Cardo, where’s your crystal?” queeried Kuruk as she searched along the floor with her own lightsaber core fluorescing the ground. “Can you recall it?”

Ushar pulled him up and he outstretched his hand, searching mentally through the Darkness for the glowing red beacon that was his battle companion. He felt it, absorbed by shadows, and he yanked, closing his fist and pulling it back. 

It moved, but not towards him. 

“A Seer has it.” The three Knights groaned.

Ancient claws clasped it, humming alongside the Kyber crystal's natural resonance. It moved and then started to run towards the crypt where the ashes of the Seers lived in terracotta pots, their own crystals glittering in front of the vessels. 

Those that were buried with the correct funeral rights merely chuckled or teased with the Knights, preferring to merely play with the unique light and hum alongside the crystals song; but those that perished in the nuclear winter had their crystals shattered, scattered in the Red Desert. They were more malevolent, darker and hungry for crystal and it took a lot of willpower to coerce it to let go. 

“Trudgen, catch it!” Yelled Cardo but the spirit darted on swift, shadowy legs, taking the form of a hound with the crystal in its mouth. 

The Knights coalesced into the crypt, mindful of the pots. Cardo punched Trudgen in the arm, pushing the human man back and was going to lay into him but the Seers chittered and a howl echoed around the room. 

“What’s happening?” whispered Kuruk and the Knights instantly backed up into one another, forming a defensive circle. “First, the Ancient One’s outside and now the Seers are acting up.”

Yellow eyes started to appear from the shelves behind the ash pots. 

Ushar called up a piece of rock, ready to throw it but Cardo forced it back down. 

“If we attack, we go against all of our sacred tenants.”

“So we die then? Just like Carina? Ripped apart by Force ghosts?”

Not…die.

The whisper caused even more hysterics. Seer’s didn’t talk. Granted, Seer’s weren’t meant to be active within their resting place so who knew what was right and wrong anymore. 

Knowledge…follow.

A shadow condensed into a form, a feline-like creature of Darkness bordered in Force blue. It picked up the small red Kyber crystal in its mouth. When contact was made, the red shimmered to white and then settled into a pure, organic blue. 

“How…it was bled. It shouldn’t have turned back…” murmured Trudgen. The Force cat picked up the crystal with its mouth and jumped down from its terracotta pot, landing gracefully. Its movements were jerky, as if the Knights were looking through an old holocamera, the tail made out of more Force than the rest of its Darkness. “The amount of power-”

“-Is unthinkable, near enough impossible, to exist,” finished Kuruk. “Come on, the Seer wants us to follow it.”

Kuruk started the chase, pushing her way between her brothers, her red crystal in her hand guiding her way through the tunnels. The bright blue light of the Seer’s Kyber illuminated its pathway but as soon as it moved forward, the rest of the Seer’s closed in, whispers of ‘follow’, ‘it is time’ and ‘knowledge, forbidden knowledge’. She was not scared of the Seers, nor of the fact she couldn’t see where her feet were landing, but rather about why she was chasing a Seer; was the Force making its presence known with the crystal, or was something or someone trying to push through the Kyber. 

“Cardo?!” she called out. 

“Right behind you,” he responded.

“Do you know where we’re going or why?”

“No! We passed the entrance to the archives. We’re supposed to be hitting a dead end about now.”

In instinct, Kuruk held out her hand to brace herself against the stone wall but, if the view cat-like Seer was to be believed, there was no wall, the blue glow running along with ease. 

“There’s no wall! Keep running!”

“What the fuck is happening?” Ushar yelled out, taking the rear. Kuruk was about to relay her view but the Seer suddenly darted left, as if turning a corner. The stone under her feet was slippery and she slammed into the wall, dropping her Kyber as she yelled out in pain. Another Seer skirted between her feet, the sensation of human-like claws digging into her calf as it picked up the red core and also started to pursue the other Seer. 

“Corner. Left turn, slow down.” Kuruk took up the chase once more, cradling her arm, possibly dislocated, and let the agony and adrenaline fuel her run. 

With red and blue blurring together in her vision, spots of deep purple was the only thing in her vision until…it suddenly wasn’t. 

The Seer’s split, letting light, actual sunlight, fill her eyes. 

The Knight skidded into a room, one in such good condition that Kuruk wasn’t sure if she was still on Rianoth. Statues of hooded figures lined all four sides of the room, heads bowed and hands outstretched in offering. They stood on boxes of grey-blue marble (an unusual material to find on the Planet of Ren) with golden rectangles on the front, some more worn down and green than others. The two Thief Seers, red crystals still in their talon and maw, sat calmly in front of a statue tucked in a corner and the cat-like Seer lounged in the outstretched hands

The other Knights entered the room with Trudgen immediately coming to Kuruk’s side. 

“Dislocated?” He gestured to her limp arm. She nodded and prepared herself as the human male got into position to relocate the joint. “Deep breath, sister.”

He popped it back into place and Kuruk stifled a scream, channelling the pain down through the Force. The clawed Seer gave a ghostly yelp and dropped the Kyber as it radiated with the Knight’s agony. Immediately, she summoned the crystal with her uninjured arm whilst Trudgen ripped part of his cowl in a strip, tying it around her neck and arm for support. 

“Now that you have yours, let's try and get mine,” spoke Cardo, stepping forward and taking charge of the situation with his siblings behind him as he approached the spirits. Ushar, however, decided to take a turn around the room, looking at all the faces.

“Drop it,” he commanded and the canine Seer chuckled before bouncing away from the group, taking up a post on top of another statue.

Cardo followed its movements, getting more and more angry with the spirit he was meant to revere.

Meanwhile, Ushar had started to compare the statues to one another.

“They aren't the same,” she said out loud, looking at a set of three. One was masculine, another depicting a Twi’lek and the third…was that a Nightsister? Though all of the statue heads were bowed, the Nightsister was looking down, right at her feet with eyes wide open. 

The Knight crouched and inspected the pedestal; solid marble that was cold to the touch and the plaque had oxidised to the point that the inscription was filled in with blue gunk. But, she could still make out some of the Galactic Basic letters.

“O…e..n…t…r..gh…r…n,” she sounded out, sitting on her haunches. Puzzled, Ushar looked up and was startled by yellow eyes looking out from under the stone cloak. “Greetings, Seer. you startled me.”

The spirit stepped forward, its shadowy yet glowing form settling into an avian shape. It clicked, a haunting sound that echoed the room, and hopped down onto Ushar’s lap. Unfamiliar with the contact, she learnt back, the fist surrounding her Kyber crystal outstretched for balance. The Seer took the opportunity and pecked at the fist. 

“I am sorry if you lost yours but you cannot have mine.”

“IF YOU LOSE YOUR REN I SWEAR!” screamed Cardo as he batted at the Thief Seer with Kuruk and Trudgen watching in amusement (so much for holy spirits).

“Ren…ren…r…n…I need to use my Kyper crystal, don’t I?” she asked the bird, who cawed and pecked at both her hand and the plaque. She nodded her head in return. “Thank you for your assistance.”

The Seer hopped back up into the shadows of the statue, watching with yellow eyes as Ushar opened her hand and pressed the ‘saber core to the plaque. 

Engraved lines glowed red with the power of her crystal, humming and flashing with the Force signature she recognised as her Kyber and the plaque hissed before…popping open. It was a drawer! 

She shuffled back, putting the Kyber into the pouch hanging from her neck and pulled the drawer open. 

Inside was a tube of shining metal resting upon an abundant amount of grey sand. She pulled it out and unscrewed the cap before tilting it, the still-white parchment sliding into her hand. Placing the container down, she unrolled the scroll, gasping at the contents. 

“Cardo, it’s a prophecy!”

“What?” The man stopped his haggling and rushed over, collapsing beside his sister as he read and examined the scroll. Trudgen and Kuruk also made their way over, peering over their shoulders. 

Printed on the paper, in immaculate condition, was Dothomire with C.I.S ships surrounding it. The next image showed the fight between the Witches and battle droids in which many of the Sisters fell. The following one depicted bodies, young and old, piled into green sacks by the few survivors. The last sequence had a different tone, a singular Nightsister…holding hands with a red headed Jedi with a blue lightsaber in his hand.

“The Nightsister Massacre…you must have foreseen this thousands of years prior.” Yellow eyes stared back at Cardo. “I grieve for your people.” The eyes disappeared.

Trudgened coughed. 

“So, I assume this is another prophecy chamber but what makes this ‘forbidden’?” he asked into the open air, knowing his siblings had heard the Seer chatter. “The Ancients believed that knowledge was empowerment.”

‘Traitors’ the shadows hissed. 

“Maybe, in the case of this Nightsister, she went to warn her people? Genocide, even for us, is extreme,” hypothesised Kuruk. 

Ushar suddenly felt nauseous. She dug her hand into the sand box and held it into the light. It glittered orange with fragments of a lightsaber core. 

“I don’t think this is sand.” 

A shudder ran all four of them; the Seer’s were executed for treason, their ‘sabers ground up and then cremated and buried with the prophecy that caused their death.

“I don’t get it. Why intervene when there is, metaphorically speaking, light at the end of the tunnel?” Trudgen asked. 

“Back then,” started Cardo. “Prior to the Rule of Two, we were Sith. To have one of our own descendants mingle or bind with a Jedi was more abhorrent than it is now.”

He stood up as Ushar re-rolled the parchment, tucking it back into the tube and replacing it in the drawer. Then, he turned his attention to the two Seer spirits; the cat merely swayed its tail whilst the canine wagged its. 

Cardo marched over to the canine spirit first holding his hand out for it to drop the crystal. It did so happily, jumping down and sitting beside the pedestal. He wanted to groan at how easily it gave the Kyber up.

“Is this yours? Your burial?” 

No…keeper. 

“Protector of the prophecy then.” He knelt down and pressed his crystal to the plaque. In the same manner as before, it hissed and opened to a bed of ashes, though these ones shimmered purple. 

He pulled out the tube and unscrewed it, opening the prophecy up. 

It was torn on both ends, looking like a third or even a quarter of a full prophecy:

A purple stone, once two parts slotting into one, big jewel. 

Five planets attached to a wrinkled, golden hand with five red beams. 

A silhouette of a man with a woman comforting him, light blue hearts in each of their chests, connected by a bar. 

Another blue lightsaber, this time clashing with a red cross-barred lightsaber on a green background.

And finally, a melted piece of plastic, maybe even metal, that eerily reminded Cardo of Darth Vader. 

He closed the drawer, parchment in his hand as he walked towards the other statue. 

“And you are the guardian for this one?” The Cat dropped its Kyber onto the floor. 

Waited…too long. 

Wasting no time, he unlocked the drawer and started to read the also ripped prophecy:

The golden hand was slashed at the wrist, black blood oozing from the wound. 

Seven helmed figures, all but one familiar to Cardo, surrounded two cloaked figures, similar style to that of the Seer Statues. Both of these ‘Seers’ wore a grown, one in gold, the other silver.

Another female figure, tan like that of the sand, was wrought between crashing waves of Light and Dark. 

She was joined in silhouette with a male, who’s green heart did not match the female’s dark purple, though the two were joined by a light blue bar. 

The Crowned Seer’s turned their back on the Knight of Ren. 

“Uh,  this involves us,” he called out and his siblings crowded behind him. “Look, that’s Ap’lek, Vicrul, Trudgen, Kuruk, Ushar and me. There is a new Knight and there is no Master Ren…something will happen then…”

“Doesn’t explain how a bled Kyber crystal can revert to its original state,” pointed out Kuruk. 

Ushar sighed. 

“Both prophecies are ripped. I bet a group of Seers worked together on this and had their vision taken apart when something happened. There’s at least thirty other statues in here and we need to check all of them.”

The communicator in Kuruk’s pocket chimed. 

The groan was unanimous.

Chapter Text

“What are Force-users?” asked Mye, repeatedly turning her head to make sure Hux was following her down the winding path to the kitchen. 

“It's literally in the name; they use the Force.” The redhead was memorising the halls, checking left and right at intersections to see where and how the slaves moved about the complex. 

“Yeah but…what are they?”

“You don’t know about the Force, do you?” His focus moved onto her entirely, watching the sway of her blue-black hair. He sped up to walk by her side and noticed the skittish look in her eyes, the way her head tilted slightly side to side to listen out for something.

“I-I don’t…I am not sure…I mean, I’ve heard whisperings ,” she murmured. “The elders spoke of a great battle before I was taken away from the breeding pens. Something about ‘Jedi’.”

Hux nodded. 

“The Force is, according to religious zealots, like the hooded men that I accompanied, state that it is an energy that binds everything together. I personally think it’s just an excuse to fluff your own ego.” Though, it would explain all the weird shit that has been happening around me. And her. It would definitely explain why I know her.

The pair moved to the side, backs pressed against the wall, as a bustling train of food and servants headed towards the hall. The smell was heavenly and Hux’s stomach grumbled.

Mye looked at him, a small little smile on her face. 

“When’d you last eat?”

He shrugged.

“Protein bar a couple of hours ago.”

“What’s a ‘protein bar’?” Mye’s eyebrows furrowed and Hux made a choked noise.

“You don’t know what the Force is and what a protein bar is?”

“Uh, I’m a slave, did we forget about that in a minute?” She gestured up and down herself before giving another bird-like head tilt and a teasing smile. “I thought you were meant to be smart, ‘Brim’?”

In the future, Hux would grab her by the waist or her hips and press her close, kissing her until the mocking words waiting on her lips died. Instead, he shrugged. 

“Sorry, you seem very intelligent for someone in your position,” he explained and immediately regretted his words when the light in her eyes died and she straightened up away from the wall.

“You have to be educated to serve the Master properly. I can read, I can write and I know the basics of science.” Mye turned on her heels, skirting past the last servant carrying a tray. “Come on,” she called.

Hux suppressed a wince.

Master Ren had excused himself from the dining hall under the guise of wanting to double check the security of the ship, leaving his brothers to watch over their comrades. He skulked the halls, waving his hand so that slaves would forget seeing him and eventually he made his way to the communications tower. 

Though he ordered his followers to contact the other Knights, the girl had caught his intrigue and he needed to know if Cardo had found something now .

Guards tried to block his way, weakly, might Ren add, and he only had to use very low amounts of compulsion to send them on their way. When he entered the main area, it was empty. 

Clearly, communication to the outside world doesn’t happen, he thought. Indeed, there was a sheer layer of dust over the beeping consoles and buttons and the windows looking out to Makeb’s ocean were grimey. 

The controls were labelled in Huttese, causing a slight headache to Ren who never thought that learning another language would be useful. Most of the time, he just used the Force to make others do his bidding but he couldn’t risk some numbskull to blab (unless he sliced them in half). No, killing a slave would ring alarm bells and they really needed access to the lower levels soon, if not by tonight. 

Ren took a deep breath. 

“Force, guide my hands,” chanted the man, his eyes closed and fingers outstretched. “Force, guide my hands. Force, guide my hands.”

The air became tight and constricted, some of the dust particles shaking in time to the music of the Force, dipping up and down with Ren’s prayer. 

Then, a pressure on his hands and an instinctual urge to move came to his mind. He stepped forward, eyes still closed, and started to press buttons he could not see but knew . 

The console beeped and whistled and soon the hum of a holoprojector filled the silent tower. 

“Master,” said Cardo, his siblings echoing the honorific. “We did not expect to hear from you so soon.”

Ren opened his eyes and gave a pleased hum. The Force had never been so obedient to him. Perhaps there was something different here.

“The vision, the boy, Hux, it all seems connected and now there is a girl that uses compulsion so effortlessly nobody notices. She is untrained and is like a ghost in the Force.”

“Funny you should say that, Master,” butted in Ushar, pushing her brother out of the way. “The Seers were active, too active, and let’s not talk about the Ancients and the Red Desert-”

“The Ancient Ones?” asked Ren, startled. He too remembered the night they lost their youngling. Ushar did not elaborate.

“-so we followed this Seer who’s crystal turned from red to blue-”

“What?”

“-Kuruk dislocated her shoulder chasing spirits and then we came to a whole, new prophecy room! Filled with dead Seers and ripped up prophecies!”

Cardo took back the communication device. 

“We found proof of a dyad. Two actually, we reckon, but one is different from the other. The one we do know is a dyad, two people that share the same soul, are a man and a woman. It seems like they’re made from the Force itself,” he explained, rushing and brushing a hand through his sweaty, cropped hair. “I mean, all we got is assumption based off the colour theory the Seers used-”

“And it involves us! The Knights!” interrupted Trudgen.

Ren leant back onto a darkened console, crossing his arms.

“There is…a lot that has happened but, for now, lets focus on the prophecy. We will look into the crystal incident later.” He took a steadying breath. “What have you learnt? Timeline, events?”

“That’s just it. It’s been ripped apart and the two parts we do have don’t make sense. We have gone through every tomb and looks like we got lucky; either the scroll has already happened or the housing was pried open and the prophecy, presumably, stolen.”

Kriff.

“Can we at least identify who these dyads are?”

“Negative. Master.” Ushar stole the holoprojector again. “The first dyad is more important than the second but they’re constantly cloaked and obscured. We do know they become Seers though.”

Ren's heart skipped a beat.

“We have Seers again?” He suddenly felt hope , the acknowledgement of that potential future flooding his being. All he has ever wanted was the cult to flourish like it had done before the nuclear winter of Rianoth. To see the planet be like the stories Rens own master spoke of made his body tingle. “The first Seers of Ren in thousands of years…”

“I know, Master, and we are here to see it through.”

Tingly warmth hardened into drive and direction. 

“Right, if the prophecy’s ‘colour theory’-” he air quoted “-is to be believed then they are one with the Force. What did I say about Brendol Hux’s boy? It was like we were seeing him through a distorted lens, only seeing a partial picture when things line up.”

There was a moment of silence before Trudgen spoke up.

“Do you think the Force is protecting him?”

“Him and the girl, this ‘Mye’. She is like him too, distorted, not quite there. You should see them together. They do not touch, but the air around them…it is intoxicating, in a way. Such power; it is leaking through whatever barrier has been placed on them,” he murmured, deep in thought. “One push, one nudge, and the biggest Awakening this century has seen will unfurl right in front of us..”

Cardo huffed, an almost amused sound. It snapped Ren out his musing and he glared at subordinate. 

“What has you laughing?”

“Nothing, Master. Just the thought that three dyads in a hundred years, when there were none for thousands beforehand. The Force has something planned.”

The kitchens were rustic yet busy, a constant flow of plates being washed, dried then refilled with food. 

Mye turned heads when she entered, her skin clean, her hair shiny and her clothes were fresh and new looking. Some of the younger servants stopped their work entirely, garnering shoves or slaps round the head.

“Consort! It has been a long time since I’ve seen you with my two eyes!” Hux’s gaze turned to an elderly woman.

Her hair was wrapped up in a scarf, one that was once white but had been worn so much it had turned beige. The elderly woman's arms were spotted, not with age, but the camouflage of a Jalpa. 

Mye ran to her, a flurry of blue skirts causing the menfolk to side step away from her. She launched herself into the elder’s arms, careful to not knock her over. 

“Auntie!” The pair embraced, snuggling each other's cheek in a manner that reminded the redhead of cats greeting one another. Perhaps a cultural thing? The only cultural thing Mye knows.

The kitchen started moving once more as the two Jalpa’s moved to a corner, the senior wrapping the younger in a blanket and dusting off chairs. Hux stood awkwardly in the doorway, arms crossed and leaning against the doorway and watched them. 

There was a fondness and closeness between the two women as the chatted with the elder Jalpa continuously rubbing Mye’s arm in a comforting manner. They both glanced over to him at the same time and Hux subconsciously straightened up (he never liked being talked about) like he was being watched by his father and his colleagues, the other commandants and generals. 

The eldest woman waved him over and clicked her fingers at a passing slave. The slave, a human female, nodded and scurried away as Hux danced between cooks and servers. A chair was hurriedly added to the table, brushed clean and a bowl of stew placed onto the table. He sat down and the old Jalpa stuck out her hand in greeting. 

Hux looked at it warrily.

“Shake it, son. I’m not under the same rules as our dear consort is.” She gave a toothy grin. “Valsi Miona, Jalpa, sixth planet, two-hundred-and-four years old, serial number: 5-9-B-C-3-k.”

The lieutenant shook her hand.

“Brim Galbrode, Human.” He didn’t provide any other information and Valsi squinted her eyes at him.

“Well, Master Galbrode, eat up. Mye tells me you’re starving and we try our best to make sure nobody goes hungry ‘round here.” The woman motioned to the bowl and Hux looked down.

It was a type of boiled meat stew; brown, water, with torn slivers of pink meat floating about and… oh, shit, is that an eyeball?

Images of Kunae and the other unnamed bodies tied up, flayed to a point that they were just a lump of mass.

The young man was not prone to hysterics or vomiting but he gagged, his body haunching over and his hand going to his mouth. 

It took Mye moving the bowl away for the reflux to stop. 

“The Square,” said the slave and Valsi nodded. 

“Not much else we can give you. Most of the food we have is being sent to the dining hall to impress our guests,” Valsi spoke. “If you don’t want it, I’ll give it to someone else in need of it.”

He nodded and the bowl was passed to a passerby with words exchanged in that lyrical Huttese. 

“Auntie, why are you in the kitchens?” Mye’s eyebrows furrowed and tilted her head. “You’re meant to be assisting the breeding pens.”

Valsi shrugged.

“They’ve dried up and I got re-assigned.”

“All of them?” Whispered the woman, looking side to side and learning forward. Hux, intrigued, followed suit. 

“Near enough,” confirmed the elder. “Babies are dying or dead before they’re born. Mothers bleed out too quickly and pass on. Some can't conceive at all; even our most prolific pairings have become infertile. Something is wrong, Mye. I have been wearing the Hutts mark for a hundred-and-fifty years and I have seen nothing like this. If we don’t sort this out, they’re going to euthanize and start a new batch.”

She learnt back and Hux added his thoughts, a story on the tip of his tongue.

“I have.” Both slaves looked at him. “It’s a tactic that my…organisation…had used several times in its infancy. We call it ‘population control’. Mass sterilisation. Serum implanted in the food causes damage to the reproductive organs.”

“Who the fuck are you?” Valsi went from the caring old woman to cagey, shifting in her seat so as to not be close to him. Mye stayed still.

“He’s here to help, auntie.” Her tone was cool, calm and collected and for a second, the air around her wiggled , like a heatwave. “Relax.”

A deep breath was heard from Valsi. 

“Can I trust you, auntie? You won’t tell anyone, not yet.” The elder Jalpa nodded. “Good.”

“What is he here to help with, Mye?” asked Valsi, her eyes wide. “Never in my long life has somebody from the outside decide to help…”

“Tit for tat. We help them break into the lower floors, below the pens, and they get rid of the Master. But…they’re dealing through the Madame.”

“Then why are you chaperoning him around? Scuttlebug says you’ve walked him around this complex without a third person.” Suddenly, she grasped Mye’s folded hands under the blanket. “Be careful. That man will not hold back if you do something stupid.”

Mye yanked her hands back.

“I’m fully capable of restraint, thank you. And I know what he’s like.”

There was a lapse of silence, Mye not looking at either of them. 

“You still haven’t told me why he’s here if his ‘organisation’ is working with the Madame.”

Mye sighed. 

“I don’t trust her. I have this gut feeling she…she set up Kunae,” she spoke, a fire in her eyes. “And I know she killed my mother.”

“So, you’re willing to start up a coup purely for your mother.”

“Yes.” It was a final statement and Hux could understand it. He too felt anger over his mother and the abuse she had suffered under his father. He knew that look in her eye, that clenched jaw and not just because he had seen it the future, but because it mirrored his own tension.

“It’s not Mye starting a coup. It’s Mye joining it and my organisation willing to see it through.”

Valsi gave another heavy sigh. 

“So, we have the Madame conspiring against the Master. You-” she pointed at Mye “-against the Madame based on emotion. We have a coup building up against the Master and the Madame. You- “ she then pointed at Hux “-have a shadow organisation doing what? Our dirty work?”

“More like an assassination then an archaeology dig.” 

“Right,” drawled the old woman. “And we also have a theory that something or someone is committing ‘mass sterilisation’ on our breeding stock.”

Mye and Hux nodded at the same time but then Valsi gave a disconcerting hum.

“What?” Queeried Hux. 

“Just a thought…what if it’s not just the pens that have been sterilised.” She stared at Mye who paled immediately at the womans dour look. The young Jalpa’s hands shifted beneath the blanket to her stomach.

“You don’t think…”

“I am not sure what to think but I know that the Madame wasn’t happy when she arrived here, nor the fact that her husband started to build the Harem with High Consort Cirion two years after their wedding,” told the elder. “And I know that none of the Harem have conceived a child since Cirion’s baby died in its sleep all those years ago.”

Hux suddenly felt heartbroken, his chest constricting like it had when he learnt that Colby had died. This was about a woman who was going to become an integral part of his life and what he felt was like something had been taken from her. And he felt angry, too. He never wanted children and when he dreamt of them together, there were no children and he had assumed it was out of personal choice, not by force. 

“I’ll make contact with my colleagues. The Madame cannot be trusted.” He looked at the Dream Girl, the sadness that flowed from out of her. If he could, if it was allowed, he was going to kill the Madame the same time he shoots the Master.

“Talk to your colleagues and I will send a servant to confirm details. You tell us what information you need but you keep Mye out of this.” 

The young Jalpa started to speak, noise coming out of her mouth but Hux cut her off.

“Of course,” he lied, a fake smile on his face.

“Good. Now, go.”

Mye was furious, her cheeks reddening as she slipped the blanket off her shoulders and stalked out of the kitchen, Armitage following behind. When they reached a quiet section of the hall, Mye grabbed him by his hand and dragged him. 

Oh, the touch.

It sent shivers down his entire body, her hand was so cool and soft. But the euphoria didn’t last long because the element of surprise meant he ended up pressed against a dark corner of the wall.

Her body pressed against his, her soft chest contrasting against his hard physique and he blushed. 

“Don’t you fucking dare leave me out of this.”

“Never,” he rushed out. “You’re my eyes and ears for this operation.”

“And you’re my knife that is going to slide into their backs, agreed?”

His eyes flicked down to her pink lips. 

“Agreed.”