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The corridor outside Lieutenant Commander ____’s quarters was quiet when she dismissed the last of the deck officers and completed her final inspection. The Finalizer’s polished floors gleamed beneath the sterile lighting.
Another unexceptional shift. Another day ensuring General Hux’s commands were carried out with ruthless precision.
She paused outside her door for a moment before stepping inside, allowing herself the smallest sigh of relief as it slid shut behind her with a soft mechanical hiss. The constant pressure of command eased from her shoulders as soon as the corridor disappeared from view.
Earlier in the day she had overheard a brief exchange between Kylo Ren and General Hux while passing the command deck—something about an away mission and gathering critical intelligence from a foreign species. The conversation had been tense, the kind that meant equal parts politics and danger.
Probably important. But, thankfully, not her concern.
She removed her formal jacket and draped it neatly over the back of a chair, setting her datapad on the small table beside her bed. From a drawer she retrieved the novel she had been slowly working through during her rare hours of leisure. It was a guilty habit, reading fiction while serving aboard a warship, but one she had never quite managed to give up.
Settling onto the edge of the bed, she let the quiet hum of the ship wrap around her. The Finalizer was never truly silent. There was always the distant vibration of engines, the faint murmur of machinery, but compared to the constant bustle of the command deck, her quarters felt peaceful.
She had only just begun reading when the buzz of her door panel cut sharply through the calm.
She frowned. It was rare for anyone to visit her unannounced, especially so soon after her shift on deck ended.
Closing the book, she rose quickly and smoothed the front of her uniform, instinctively straightening herself before crossing the room. The door slid open.
She immediately snapped to attention.
General Hux stood rigidly in the entryway, hands clasped behind his back. He looked entirely composed, as always.
“General!” she said quickly. “Am I needed back on deck?”
“Not currently, Lieutenant Commander ____,” he replied. His voice was clipped as always, but there was something slightly off about his tone. A slight tightness beneath the usual authority.
Without waiting to be invited, he stepped inside.
“Ahem.” He cleared his throat lightly. “In two standard days, we will be traveling to the surface of the planet we're currently orbiting to establish diplomatic contact with its ruling governor. Ren requires something currently in his possession that cannot be taken by force and, as such… requires us to make personal contact.”
He shifted once. The movement was so subtle that most would have missed it.
She did not.
“What exactly does he need, sir?”
For a moment, the corner of his mouth twitched upward in the faintest ghost of a smirk.
“That, Lieutenant Commander, is classified. Need to know basis.”
The expression vanished almost immediately, replaced once again by his usual severe composure.
“That being said, we cannot disclose our true intentions for being there." He continued, jaw tightening slightly. "In their culture, it is customary for individuals in positions of authority to present themselves with a bonded mate.”
She blinked.
“Sorry, sir,” she said slowly, “but I’m not quite sure I follow.”
Hux turned away from her and began pacing across the small space of her quarters, hands clasped tightly behind his back.
“The governor has requested the presence of all high ranking officers at a… banquet, of sorts.” His lip curled faintly. “A cultural display of alliances and… Fertility.”
He sounded uncomfortable, spitting out the last word with disdain.
“And that includes myself.”
Silence stretched between them as the implication slowly began to settle in her mind.
“I understand this is an uncomfortable, favor to ask,” he continued, his gaze flicking briefly toward her before fixing instead on a point somewhere over her shoulder. “However, you excel at your position. And you possess… interpersonal skills that I admittedly do not.”
Despite herself, warmth flared in her chest at the rare compliment. Hux was not a man who gave praise lightly.
He stopped pacing.
“I had hoped,” he said stiffly, “that you would accompany me to the planet’s surface in order to uphold the illusion of a traditional pairing.”
The words hung heavily in the air.
Oh. Understanding dawned all at once.
“Sir,” she said slowly, careful to keep her voice steady, “you want me to pretend to be your wife?”
He did not answer the question directly. Instead, his jaw clenched.
“The governor is currently in possession of ship schematics Ren requires,” he said curtly. “They are stored in his private office. Ren and Captain Canady will create a diversion at the gala. During that time, we will infiltrate the office and extract the data.”
Ah.
So that was the true purpose of this charade. She briefly wondered what had changed in the 30 seconds between "need to know basis" and the currant admittance, but knew better than to question it.
“I’m flattered that you’d trust me with something so critical,” she said finally, “but wouldn’t Captain Phasma be a more suitable choice? I’m not sure I’m qualified to stand at your side in such a public capacity, sir.”
For a brief moment, so fleeting she almost thought she imagined it, something like wounded pride flickered across his expression.
“Captain Phasma will accompany Ren,” he replied sharply. “As will Captain Canady and one of his soldiers.”
He paused, still very pointedly avoiding eye contact.
“You are capable, Lieutenant Commander. Exceptionally so. And—”
He hesitated. Which, for Hux, was practically unheard of.
“You are also one of the few officers aboard this ship whose presence I can tolerate for extended periods of time.”
Her lips twitched before she could stop them.
“Thank you, sir.”
“I expect professionalism.”
“Of course.”
After a brief, stiff nod, Hux turned sharply and strode out of her quarters. The door slid shut behind him.
____ remained standing in the middle of the room for several long seconds, staring at the door as she processed what had just happened.
Pretend to be the General’s wife.
The very attractive General, who she harbored a very inconvenient, very secret crush on.
Okay. She could do that.
She exhaled slowly before crossing to her closet.
Rows of immaculate First Order uniforms hung in perfect order along the rack. Behind them, partially hidden and long forgotten, was a garment she had not worn in years.
She pulled it free.
A deep, elegant evening gown. Formal, striking, and far more extravagant than anything she allowed herself on the ship during her off hours.
She smiled faintly. It would do.
The next few days passed quickly.
The rhythm of life aboard the Finalizer continued without interruption, shift rotations, tactical briefings, weapons checks, the endless hum of preparation that came with serving the First Order. If anyone else aboard the ship was aware of the upcoming diplomatic excursion, they did not show it.
To the rest of the crew, it was simply another week, and that's how ____ acted. Privately, however, every passing hour carried a quiet weight of anticipation.
She threw herself into her duties with her usual efficiency, moving between the command deck and the lower sectors of the ship, reviewing reports, correcting minor procedural errors, and ensuring that each officer beneath her command performed their role exactly as expected.
Then, there was Hux.
Whenever their paths crossed on the command deck or in the corridors, she couldn’t help but notice a subtle difference in his demeanor. He had always been harsh, disciplined to the point of severity, but now there seemed to be an added tension to his movements whenever they were forced to interact.
If anything, he seemed almost… anxious. Which was not a state she had ever associated with the great General Hux.
More than once she caught him pausing mid-sentence during briefings when their eyes met across the room. Each time it happened, he would recover quickly, redirecting his attention back to the matter at hand with the same unwavering authority as always.
Still, she noticed. She doubted anyone else did.
During her off-hours, she studied the small planet's culture.
The species they would be dealing with placed significant importance on bonding rituals, and social pairing. Relationships were not treated with the same privacy or restraint as within the First Orde. Instead, affection, both subtle and overt, was openly expressed and, in many cases, expected among those in positions of status. Partnerships were seen as symbols of strength, unity, and prosperity.
____ felt her face warm slightly as she scrolled.
This made the General’s request, and awkwardness discussing it, significantly more understandable.
Late the second evening, as she reviewed reports at her post on deck, a soft notification chimed from the console in front of her. A new file transfer.
She opened it immediately.
The screen filled with a detailed architectural schematic of the governor’s palace, floor plans layered over security systems, hallways branching in careful geometric patterns, access points highlighted in faint blue lines.
Not long after, Hux approached, standing in front of her once again with his datapad clasped behind his back.
“The blueprints have been uploaded to your console,” he said without preamble.
“Yes, sir.”
“The governor’s private office is located in the eastern wing,” he continued, gesturing at a location on her screen. "Security rotations are minimal during the banquet, as most personnel are stationed within the main hall. That corridor,” he pointed briefly to a narrow passage branching away from the central chambers,“will provide the most direct access.”
His voice had returned to the confident cadence she was used to hearing on the command deck, the General once again fully in his element as he explained the logistics of the mission.
“Memorize them,” he said finally.
She nodded once.
“I will.”
And she did.
Over the next two days she studied the palace layout whenever time allowed, committing each corridor, stairwell, and hidden passage to memory. By the time the morning of the mission arrived, she could have navigated the governor’s estate in her sleep.
The shuttle descended through the planet’s atmosphere beneath a canopy of swirling gold clouds, their edges illuminated by the distant light of the planet's twin suns. From the small viewport beside her seat, ____ could see the sprawling city below slowly coming into focus; vast terraces of pale stone and glimmering towers rising from the landscape like polished sculptures.
It was beautiful, in a strange, unsettling sort of way.
Inside the shuttle, the atmosphere was far more controlled. Everyone was dressed flawlessly for the evening’s performance. Captain Canady stood near the rear hatch beside a weapons specialist from the bridge crew, both clad in their formal First Order uniforms. Their expressions were serious, though there was a quiet excitement lingering beneath the surface. An anticipation for the operation ahead.
Captain Phasma, towering and silent as ever, remained near Kylo Ren at the center of the cabin. Her chrome armor gleamed beneath the shuttle’s overhead lighting, reflecting fractured glints of silver across the walls. Beside her, Ren’s dark robes seemed to swallow the light entirely, his masked face angled toward the floor.
Beside ____, General Hux looked immaculate.
He wore a perfectly tailored black formal ensemble, sharp lines accentuating his rigid posture. The First Order insignia had been embroidered subtly along the collar, just enough to mark his rank without overwhelming the elegant design.
It suited him. Distractingly well.
As the shuttle dipped lower through the atmosphere, Hux rose from his seat and addressed the small group gathered inside.
“We will be meeting with the governor to discuss a potential trade agreement,” he said, his voice carrying the same confident authority that dominated every briefing on the command deck. “Ren and Captain Phasma will occupy the governor and his advisors. Captain Canady will assist in maintaining the diversion...”
His gaze swept briefly across the room before landing momentarily on ____.
She gave the faintest nod of acknowledgement.
Satisfied, he continued outlining the final details of the plan, his tone calm as the shuttle rocked gently beneath them. Despite the expensive clothing and diplomatic pretense, he was unmistakably in his element.
When the briefing ended and he returned to the seat beside her, ____ allowed herself a small smile.
“An inspiring speech as always, General.”
Hux tipped his head in acknowledgment. His expression remained professional, but she caught the brief flicker of pride that passed through his eyes before it disappeared behind his usual stoicism.
“I trust you will follow my lead tonight,” he said quietly.
“Always, sir.”
The shuttle touched down moments later with a soft mechanical thud.
The hatch lowered with a hiss of pressurized air, revealing a group of waiting officials gathered on the landing platform below. Their clothing was elaborate, flowing fabrics in warm metallic tones, and their expressions stretched into welcoming smiles that seemed just a little too wide to be entirely genuine.
Hux descended first.
____ followed half a step behind him, falling naturally into place at his side.
The officials greeted them with elaborate bows as they were ushered through the towering entrance of the governor’s palace. Inside, the halls were nothing short of extravagant.
Golden archways curved high overhead, supported by pillars carved with intricate patterns that glimmered under soft amber lighting. The floors were polished stone, smooth enough to reflect the figures moving through the corridors. Strange floral arrangements lined the walls, their unfamiliar blossoms releasing a sweet, oddly familiar perfume into the air.
____ fought the urge to stare. With all of its elegance, the place felt almost overwhelming compared to the stark, utilitarian design of a First Order star destroyer. It was hard not to feel out of place. Even worse, it was hard not to long for a life so different from what she had pledged her allegiance to.
They were led through several winding corridors before arriving in the reception hall.
There, the Governor awaited them. Despite the vast reach of the First Order, ____ had never seen his kind before. He was almost humanoid, with shimmering metallic skin that reflected the glow of the hall's lights and eyes that blinked like a reptile.
Beautiful, she found herself thinking.
Hux strode forward without hesitation, posture straight and confident as he extended his hand.
“Governor. A pleasure.”
The alien leader returned the gesture with enthusiasm, clasping Hux’s hand firmly before his curious gaze shifted toward ____.
“A pleasure indeed, General. And this is?”
“My wife,” Hux replied stiffly, the air of confidence was suddenly gone. The words sounded almost awkward coming from him, in a way that stood out immediately to ____.
She stepped forward smoothly before the silence could linger too long, offering her own hand with ease.
“____, Governor. It’s an honor to meet you. We are very grateful for your hospitality this evening.”
The governor took her hand, his sharp eyes lingering as he looked between the two of them.
“A fine pairing,” he said with an approving smile. “Strong bloodlines. You will produce powerful offspring.”
Beside her, Hux went red, cheeks flushing with warmth.
“Do you have children?” the governor pressed when he did not respond.
____ didn't hesitate.
“Not currently,” she replied with a warm smile. “Our duties to the First Order require our full attention for now. But family is something we look forward to in the future.”
The governor threw his head back with a booming laugh.
“Excellent! Very wise.”
He gestured broadly toward a corridor leading deeper into the palace.
“Come. The night awaits.”
As the group began moving once more, Hux leaned slightly closer to ____, his voice low enough that only she could hear.
“That was well handled.”
____ felt a small spark of pride at the quiet praise. She didn't bite back the proud smile it drew.
"Thank you, sir."
The gala was already in full swing when they entered, lavish and loud. Music drifted through the grand hall in slow, rhythmic waves, a deep thrumming melody carried by instruments ____ didn't recognize. It blended with the constant murmur of conversation until the entire room felt alive with sound.
Alien dignitaries filled the space, moving between clusters of guests in elaborate garments that shimmered beneath the golden light. Flowing fabrics, metallic threads, and ornate jewelry caught the glow of chandeliers suspended high above the ballroom floor.
It was strange.
The role she had agreed to play was simple enough in theory. But now that they were here, ____ found herself acutely aware of the man beside her. More than that, she found herself rather selfishly enjoying the idea of being with him in such a way.
More than once, she caught Hux glancing in her direction. Each time their eyes met, he looked away first, his attention snapping forward again as though he had been caught doing something improper.
She took advantage of the setting, smiling freely in a way that would never have been permitted back on the Finalizer.
They moved together through the ballroom comfortably, stopping to exchange pleasantries with various attendees. At some point, Hux’s hand found its place at the small of her back. ____ found herself needing to remember, it was all part of the act.
“You are performing well,” Hux praised under his breath as they paused near a column draped in shimmering fabric. His expression was uncharacteristically warm, evidently playing into the character as well, though his eyes never stopped scanning the room.
She glanced up at him, surprised.
“High praise, sir.”
“I do not give it lightly.”
A beat passed.
His gaze turned toward her, only briefly, but it felt shockingly personal.
“You look…” he hesitated, as though he was debating whether or not to speak. “…Appropriate for the role.”
She raised a brow slightly.
“Appropriate.”
“Yes.”
Another pause.
“…You look very nice,” he amended, quieter this time. His voice was strained, like he was forcing himself to say something he would be punished for speaking aloud.
She smiled, surprised at the compliment.
“Thank you, General.”
He gave a small nod, once again unwilling to meet her eyes, but his hand did not leave her back. If anything, his fingers pressed slightly more firmly against the fabric of her gown as they resumed moving through the crowd.
They spoke when necessary, laughed at appropriate moments, and leaned just close enough to one another to sell the illusion. At one point, she rested her hand lightly against his arm while speaking to a group of officials. He didn't pull away.
What had begun as a carefully prepared performance blurred at the edges, with their movements becoming more natural, less deliberate. They no longer had to think about standing close, about the way his hand would guide her through the crowd, or how she would angle her body toward his when they spoke.
It just… happened.
At one point, he leaned in close under the pretense of speaking quietly, his voice brushing just beside her ear.
“You are adapting to this role rather quickly,” he said.
She squeezed his arm. He didn't pull away.
“So are you.”
He didn’t respond, but he didn’t move away, either.
____ smiled. It would have been easy to forget why they were there. Too easy to forget that this was all an act.
Time slipped by strangely after that.
Eventually, they drifted toward a quieter section of the ballroom.
There, Kylo Ren stood beside Captain Phasma and Captain Canady, their small cluster appearing no more suspicious than any of the other conversations scattered throughout the room.
____ approached them calmly, her expression relaxed as though they were simply joining another group of acquaintances.
“Is it time?” she asked quietly, her gaze remaining fixed on the crowd rather than the figures beside her.
Ren’s masked head tilted slightly. He gave the faintest nod.
He muttered something to Canady, who moments later, turned alongside Ren and approached the governor once more, drawing the alien leader and several of his guards into animated discussion. Phasma followed, her towering presence ensuring the conversation quickly became the center of attention.
Now.
Hux pressed lightly at the small of ____’s back, steering them away from the ballroom. They slipped through the archway and into the corridor beyond, the noise of the gala fading quickly behind them.
Once out of sight, their pace quickened. The palace halls twisted in careful patterns, but ____ had memorized every turn. Together they moved swiftly through the winding halls until they reached the governor’s private office.
The door slid open with a quiet hiss.
Inside, the room was dim and still. Shelves lined the walls, filled with datapads, books, and artifacts that glimmered faintly beneath soft lighting. Everything seemed to glimmer on this planet. A large desk dominated the center of the chamber, its polished surface nearly bare except for a few scattered documents.
Hux moved immediately to the primary console behind the desk, retrieving his datapad and connecting it to the system with practiced efficiency.
The console flickered to life.
____ wandered through the room, scanning surfaces and shelves for anything that might indicate secondary storage or systems. She flipped through a few of the books stacked on the desk; most appeared ceremonial or decorative, rather than functional.
The room remained quiet except for the soft hum of the console transferring data.
“You performed commendably tonight,” Hux said after several minutes, his eyes still focused on the screen before him.
____ glanced over her shoulder.
“You seem surprised.”
“I am not easily impressed,” he replied simply.
Given his neutral tone, ____ was surprised to see the General smiling at her.
A small smile tugged at her own lips as she returned her attention to the desk, examining a datapad while keeping one ear tuned carefully to the hallway beyond the office doors.
For several minutes, neither of them spoke. Only the quiet hum of the transfer filled the room.
The console beeped softly as the data transfer progressed. Thin lines of text scrolled steadily across the screen of Hux’s datapad while he monitored the process with intense focus.
Across the room, ____ continued searching the desk, carefully opening drawers and skimming through scrolls before setting them back where she had found them.
“Transfer progress?” she asked quietly.
“Fifty seven percent,” Hux replied without looking up.
She hummed thoughtfully. “Faster than I expected.”
“The governor’s security protocols are embarrassingly simple,” he muttered. “Ren could likely have broken into this system from orbit if he wished.”
“Yet here we are.”
“Yes,” Hux said dryly. “Here we are.”
Silence settled again for a moment as she flipped through another decorative book.
After a moment she spoke again, her voice lower.
“You clean up well, sir.”
The words slipped out before she could stop them.
Hux’s fingers paused briefly on the console.
“…Excuse me?”
She cleared her throat, quickly straightening another artifact on the shelf in front of her.
“I meant that the formal attire suits you. Diplomacy appears to agree with you.”
He looked at her then, one eyebrow lifting slightly.
“I assure you, Lieutenant Commander, there is nothing about tonight that I find agreeable.”
A faint smile tugged at her lips as she moved toward the desk, picking up one of the governor’s documents and flipping through it.
“I know, sir,” she said lightly. “Still. You played the part well.”
“Part?”
“The devoted husband.”
Hux made a quiet sound in the back of his throat, something halfway between a scoff and a sigh.
“That role required significantly less effort than the diplomacy.”
Her head snapped up at this.
“Oh?”
He hesitated, as if realizing he had said more than intended.
“You are… a competent officer,” he said stiffly. “Maintaining the illusion was therefore… straightforward.”
____ tilted her head slightly, studying him.
“That almost sounded like a compliment.”
“It was not intended to.”
Her smile widened, just slightly. For a moment, neither of them spoke again. Hux’s gaze drifted back to the console, though his focus seemed less certain than before.
After a few seconds, he added quietly, “You performed your role convincingly as well.”
She blinked.
“Pretending to be your—”
“Yes," he interrupted.
She hummed softly, leaning one hip against the edge of the desk.
“Well,” she said after a moment, “it wasn’t much of a stretch.” The moment the words left her mouth, she cursed herself for admitting such a thing.
This time, it was Hux's turn to look up sharply.
“What exactly is that supposed to mean?”
She waved a hand dismissively, forcing a neutral expression when internally, she felt far from it.
“I meant—professionally. You think I'm competent, I follow your commands. We work well together. It made the illusion easier.”
Hux studied her for a moment longer than seemed necessary, his expression unreadable. Finally he gave a single, restrained nod.
“Yes,” he said quietly. “I suppose it did.”
The console chimed softly beside him, the faint glow of the display reflecting across his sharp features.
____ had just opened her mouth to respond, when Hux suddenly, went rigid.
“Anyways, if the transfer finishes—”
“Quiet.”
The word came out sharp and low. He lifted a hand instinctively, silencing her. At first she frowned, confused by the sudden shift in his demeanor. But then, she heard it too.
Voices. Several of them.
They were faint at first, muffed by the thick office doors and winding corridors beyond. But they were getting closer.
Her stomach dropped.
She whipped around toward the sealed doors, her heart immediately beginning to hammer in her chest.
The voices were getting louder.
Concerningly close.
Hux was already moving. The calm composure he wore so effortlessly on the command deck had vanished completely as he yanked the cable free from the console and shoved his datapad hastily inside his coat. The fragile moment of warmth between them shattered.
Her training took over immediately, scanning the room rapidly for any place they could hide, or a secondary exit.
No such luck.
"Sir. Nowhere to hide. We can't go out fighting, even if we survived, the Supreme Leader would have us put to death," she whispered, fast and quiet as her mind sped through possible outcomes. "We need an excuse."
Hux's usual stern authority snapped back into place as he rounded on her, his voice dropping into a furious whisper.
“What possible reason,” he hissed, glaring at her as the console chimed to signal the transfer’s completion, “could we have for being in here that will not result in us being shot?”
____’s mind raced.
Footsteps echoed clearly now in the corridor outside. Multiple people.
Think.
Think.
Her eyes darted toward him again.
Oh.
That's something.
“They’re… a very open culture,” she said tentatively.
Hux blinked.
“I beg your pardon?”
“You said it yourself,” she rushed, lowering her voice even further. “All the talk about fertility and bonding rituals. These people are very… affectionate.”
He stared at her, completely blank.
“They sneak off during gatherings,” she continued, gesturing vaguely between them. “Closets, hallways, private rooms—”
Understanding dawned slowly across his face.
“Are you picking up what I’m saying here?” she whispered desperately. “Because we have maybe fifteen seconds before they walk through this door, and we're all dead.”
His eyes widened.
“You cannot possibly be suggesting—”
For a moment, Hux simply stared at her. Then, very slowly, he nodded. A deep flush crept up his neck and across his cheeks.
____ swallowed.
“I understand this is unspeakably inappropriate, sir,” she said quickly as she stepped closer to him. “You can reprimand me however you see fit when we return to the ship, but right now I truly do not see another way we walk out of this alive.”
Her heart pounded so hard she could hear it in her ears.
Hux didn’t move at first.
Then he lifted a hand and gently took her jaw between his fingers, tilting her face upward so their eyes met. The contact made her breath catch.
Up close, she could see something she had never expected to see in the General of the First Order's expression. Fear. Apprehension. Something else she couldn't put a name to.
His eyes searched her face, wide and uncertain. Outside, the footsteps stopped.
She heard the faint rustle of someone fussing with an access card. They were out of time.
____ inhaled sharply, leaned forward, and pressed her lips against his. The contact was brief, tentative, and when she pulled back, Hux's eyes were wide.
He didn't let the moment last long, as the next second he was leaning back in, pulling her against his body.
The second kiss was far less careful.
Their lips met again with sudden urgency, the tension of the moment crashing between them as she grabbed the front of his coat and pulled him closer. His hands moved instinctively, first gripping her waist, then sliding upward to cradle her jaw before settling on clutching at the fabric draped over her hips.
The closeness of their bodies sent a sharp jolt through her.
One of his hands slid upward, cradling the side of her face while the other braced against the desk behind her, boxing her in. Although their touches had begun uncertain and hesitant, the intensity of the moment quickly stripped away any restraint they may have had.
Hux suddenly broke the kiss with a sharp inhale before gripping her waist and lifting her onto the edge of the desk. The unexpected movement drew a small sound from her throat. There was no time to think about how inappropriate any of this was. Her hands tangled in the front of his jacket, catching his tie as she pulled him down toward her again.
It’s just part of the act.
It’s just part of the act.
The words repeated uselessly in her head as Hux let out a strained sound when their mouths met again.
Behind them, the access panel outside the office beeped.
A shiver of fear ran through her body, however it quickly blended with a shudder of excitement as Hux's hand tightened around her thigh, hoisting her leg up over his hip and slotting one of his legs between her own.
Taking advantage of her position, ____ hooked her leg around the man's waist and pulled his hips flush against hers. Hux gasped quietly against her mouth at the sudden contact, while her eyes shot open at the unmistakable feeling of something hard pressing into the divot between her hip and thigh.
____ let out a soft, breathless sound and buried her face against Hux’s shoulder, praying he couldn’t read her thoughts the way Ren could, because the images running through her head right now were wildly unprofessional.
Before ____ had the time to process the new addition to the situation, the door gave one final 'beep'. As the office doors slid open, her heart lurched. The sound pulled her put of the fantasy, and suddenly it was just an act again. Succeed or die.
The room behind them fell silent.
Then—
A snort of laughter. Someone cleared their throat loudly from the doorway.
Relief flooded through her at the sign that their little performance had worked. She pulled back quickly with an embarrassed, exaggerated gasp, Hux jumping away from her at the same moment as they disentangled themselves and turned toward the interruption.
Her feigned mortification lasted only a heartbeat. The moment she looked up, her blood ran cold, and suddenly the face was real.
Kylo Ren stood in the doorway beside the Governor and several of his delegates. His masked head tilted slightly. Even without seeing his face, she could feel the smirk. He knew exactly what she had been thinking.
For a moment, no one moved. The alien officials in the doorway stared at them.
Then, finally, one of them barked out a laugh.
“Well,” the governor said, amusement thick in his voice, “I suppose that explains why you both vanished from the celebration.”
A ripple of chuckles spread through the small group behind him.
____ forced herself to look appropriately ashamed, lowering her gaze as she slid carefully down from the edge of the desk. Her fingers moved automatically over the fabric of her gown, smoothing the wrinkled material where Hux’s hands had been moments before.
Beside her, Hux cleared his throat sharply.
The sound cut through the lingering tension in the room as he straightened his coat with brisk, stiff movements. He adjusted the front of his jacket, tugged his cuffs back into place, and smoothed a hand over his hair as though the simple action might erase the last thirty seconds from existence.
“My apologies, Governor,” he said stiffly. “We did not intend to—”
“Yes, yes,” the governor interrupted with a broad wave of his hand, clearly far more entertained than offended. “Young couples rarely intend these things.”
A ripple of laughter spread through the aliens gathered in the doorway.
One of the group leaned against the doorframe, clearly amused. “You should have chosen a less official location,” he added with a teasing tilt of his head. “The governor’s office is hardly romantic.”
____ kept her eyes lowered, willing her face to remain convincingly embarrassed. She continued playing the part, even under Kylo Ren's unspeaking gaze, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.
“Forgive the intrusion,” another delegate said with exaggerated politeness. “But perhaps you might continue your… bonding… elsewhere.”
The governor laughed again.
“Yes, please. We do still require this room.”
Hux tilted his head stiffly. "Of course.”
Without another word, he placed his hand on the small of ____'s back and led her toward the hallway. They slipped past the cluster of amused dignitaries in the doorway, both careful not to meet anyone’s eyes. The governor and his advisors were still chuckling behind them as they exited.
The moment they stepped into the corridor, the office doors slid shut behind them with a quiet hiss, and Hux ripped his hand away from her waist as if the touch had burned him. ____ tried not to think too deeply about it.
For several long seconds, neither of them spoke. They simply walked.
The palace corridor stretched ahead of them in gleaming golden arches, their footsteps echoing faintly against the polished stone floors. The faint music from the gala drifted through the distant halls, but here the air felt heavier.
Only when they turned the first corner did ____ release the breath she had been holding. The silence between them thickened almost immediately. They walked side by side, eyes fixed forward, neither one daring to glance at the other.
____ was suddenly painfully aware of her appearance.
Her dress was rumpled. Her hair had fallen partially loose from its careful styling, several strands sticking stubbornly to her cheek. When she lifted a hand to brush them away, her fingers came away faintly smudged with the remains of her lipstick.
Anyone who looked at them right now would know exactly what they had just been doing.
Another, far worse realization followed quickly behind it.
Hux had executed officers for far less than this.
The thought struck her so suddenly that she nearly stopped walking altogether. What was stopping him from killing her the moment they returned to the ship?
She shook her head.
No, she forced herself to think. I’m his second-in-command. His officers respect me. I'm probably the closest thing he has to a friend.
He wouldn’t.
They continued walking in strained silence. Eventually, she forced herself to break it.
“…Did we get the files?”
She kept her eyes forward. He didn’t look at her either.
“…Yes.”
The single word fell flat between them. Silence returned, heavy and uncomfortable.
They had only taken a few more steps when the quiet was broken by the sound of footsteps echoing down the corridor behind them. Both of them stopped.
Slowly, they turned.
Kylo Ren stood several paces away, his tall figure framed by the curve of the golden arch behind him. His hands were clasped loosely behind his back, his posture relaxed in a way that somehow felt more threatening than if he had been standing at attention.
For a moment, the three of them simply stared at one another.
Then Ren tilted his head slightly.
“Well,” he said slowly, his voice smooth and condescending, “that was convincing.”
____ gritted her teeth, fighting the urge to hit him. Beside her, Hux’s jaw tightened visibly, the muscles in his face pulling taut.
Ren took a few slow steps toward them, his boots echoing softly against the stone floor.
“The governor and his advisors seemed quite amused by your… performance.”
Neither of them responded.
Ren’s helmet turned slowly toward Hux.
“Yours, especially,” he added.
Hux’s face burned instantly, the flush returning even deeper than before. His expression hardened at once, but the color climbing his neck betrayed him completely. He straightened defensively.
"The data transfer finished before the governor entered the room," Hux informed him, eyes fixed straight ahead.
Ren ignored him. Instead, he tilted his head slightly, studying ____ in that unnerving, predatory way he had whenever he was sifting through someone’s thoughts.
Even without seeing his eyes, she could feel the weight of his attention pressing against her mind like a cold hand.
“You were thinking very loudly.”
He looked back to Hux.
"You both were."
____ kent her eyes fixed on the ground, standing stiffly at attention. She wasn't dumb enough to talk back to a superior officer, especially one with a reputation such as Kylo Ren's.
Beside her, Hux stiffened even more.
“I suggest you keep your observations to yourself,” Hux said coldly.
“There was a moment,” Ren continued casually, “when you forgot it was an act at all.”
Heat rushed violently to ____'s face.
Hux clenched his jaw, visibly forcing himself not to react. ____, however turned toward Ren sharply.
"Enough. The only person with the right to talk to the General like this is the Supreme Leader himself, and you are far from that."
The command cracked through the hallway with authority that all three of them knew she didn't have. Hux's eyes widened. ____ went white, horrified at her own outburst.
Apparently she was dumb enough, the thought briefly surfacing as she closed her eyes against the inevitable attack.
Ren’s helmet snapped sharply toward her again.
"You dare speak that way to a superior officer?" Ren questioned, his voice low and dangerous. He took a step forward, hand raising, and ____ preemptively flinched, closing her eyes and awaiting the incoming blow—
But nothing came.
She peeked her eyes open, and to her surprise, Hux had stepped forward, putting himself between ____ and Ren. Her eyes shot open.
"Don't," he warned, voice threateningly calm. "As my second in command, Commander ____ is operating well within her duties by defending her own superior officer. We would not have acquired the schematics without her. I recommend you back down, Ren."
There was a moment of silence, the masked man staring, unmoving, before them.
Then, Ren gave a small shrug.
“As you wish, General.”
The title carried a hint of mockery. ____ looked to her General with wide eyes, shocked by his defense of her. He didn't return her gaze.
Ren began walking again, closing the remaining distance between them until he stood only a few feet away.
"You confirmed that the file transfer was completed?"
Hux gave a slight nod, seeming to relax slightly.
“Then the mission was successful,” Ren hummed.
“Yes.”
His helmet turned slowly toward ____ again.
“Though I suspect the evening will be remembered for other reasons.”
____ wished she could roll her eyes, but knew better than to push her luck.
Hux’s patience snapped.
“If you are quite finished,” he said, tone dripping with ice, “we should return to the ballroom before our absence becomes even more suspicious.”
Ren tipped his head, gesturing lazily down the corridor. “After you.”
Hux moved immediately, his stride sharp and purposeful. ____ followed half a step behind him, exceedingly aware of Ren falling into step somewhere behind them.
They walked in silence for several long seconds. Then, quietly—
“Lieutenant Commander.”
She stiffened. Hux still hadn’t looked at her.
“…Yes, sir?”
Another pause. His voice, when it came, was softer than she expected.
“Compose yourself.”
She blinked.
“Sir?”
His eyes flicked briefly toward her, just long enough for her to see the lingering color still high on his cheeks.
“Your hair,” he muttered.
Her hand flew immediately to the mess at the back of her head.
Behind them, Kylo Ren made a soft sound that suspiciously resembled a laugh. Neither of them acknowledged it.
Hux resumed his usual brisk pace, hands clasped neatly behind his back, every inch the composed General of the First Order once more. If not for the lingering color still faintly visible along his collar, no one would have guessed what had transpired in the office minutes earlier.
____ followed beside, as always, doing her best to restore some order to her appearance as they walked. She smoothed the wrinkles from her dress again and carefully pushed loose strands of hair back into place, though the once-perfect updo was beyond saving.
Behind them, Kylo Ren walked in silence.
The palace corridors gradually filled again with the hum of distant music and conversation as they neared the ballroom. When the doors slid open, the gala was still in full swing. Music drifted through the grand hall while alien dignitaries continued mingling beneath glittering chandeliers. No one spared the returning trio more than a passing glance. Exactly what they wanted.
Across the room, Captain Phasma spotted them first. She gave a small, knowing nod. A moment later, Captain Canady drifted toward them as well, a drink in hand, looking every bit the unsuspicious officer enjoying the festivities they had hoped.
“General,” he said, voice gruff as always, as he reached them.
Hux gave a subtle nod in return.
“The governor appeared satisfied,” Canady continued under his breath. “Ren kept him occupied longer than expected.”
Kylo Ren said nothing to that. Phasma stepped closer, her chrome armor reflecting the soft ballroom lights.
“Was the objective completed?”
“Yes,” ____ replied simply. The answer seemed to be enough.
Phasma inclined her helmet slightly.
“Then our presence here is no longer required.”
As if on cue, the governor himself returned, approaching the group a few minutes later to exchange polite farewells, his earlier amusement still lingering in his voice.
“You are departing already?” he asked.
“Unfortunately,” Hux replied smoothly, the perfect officer once again. “Our duties require our return to the fleet.”
The governor nodded, clearly satisfied.
“Well, General, Commander… I hope the remainder of your evening proves… less interrupted.”
The subtle emphasis was not lost on anyone.
____ kept her expression neutral, though she resisted the urge to grit her teeth. Hux merely nodded again. “Indeed.”
Not long after, the First Order delegation made their departure.
The shuttle ride back to the Star Destroyer was quiet.
Phasma and Canady spoke briefly about the governor’s cooperation and the likely political implications of the new trade agreement, but the conversation remained strictly professional.
Ren offered nothing more than the occasional nod. Hux did even less.
____ sat across from him this time, her hands folded neatly in her lap, carefully avoiding his gaze. Not only was her job on the line, but the concern that her life was as well hadn't left her mind.
Every now and then she caught him glancing in her direction, but the moment their eyes almost met, he looked away again.
The silence stretched for the rest of the flight.
Back aboard the ship, the group dispersed quietly.
Phasma returned to her stormtrooper battalions. Canady headed back toward the bridge. Kylo Ren vanished down one of the dimly lit corridors without a word. Hux simply gave ____ a brief nod before following Ren down the hallway.
They parted ways without a word.
____ walked back to her quarters as she would any day; posture perfect, head straight forward, and carrying the intimidating presence of a higher command to every officer passed. Her formal attire wasn't enough to shake the respect—and sometimes fear, that a large percentage of the ship felt towards her.
On the inside, though, she was tired. She dreaded having to face Hux again, or even worse, Ren.
Finally, she reached her room. The quiet of her quarters was welcoming after the chaos of the evening. ____ shut the door behind her and leaned against it for a moment, exhaling slowly.
Finally. Alone.
She crossed the room ungracefully and reached up to pull the pins from her hair, sighing as the carefully constructed updo unraveled. Strands of hair fell loosely around her shoulders as she worked the last of the pins free and dropped them onto the nearby table.
Her reflection in the mirror looked… different.
Flushed. Disheveled. Like someone who had very recently been kissing her commanding officer against a desk. She groaned quietly, kicking her heels off in the general direction of the closet. She could deal with that later.
“Maker…”
Walking over to the bed, she sat down heavily on the edge of the mattress and ran a hand through her hair. It had been an act. Just an act. That’s all.
The silence didn't last long.
A knock sounded at the door.
For a moment she simply stared at it, an exhausted sort of dread washing over her. What now? Slowly, she stood and crossed the room.
The door slid open, and once again, General Hux stood in the doorway. He was still dressed in the same formal wear from the gala, though his coat now hung open slightly and his posture lacked its usual rigidity.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Then, Hux cleared his throat.
“May I come in?”
She stepped aside automatically.
He entered stiffly, glancing around the small quarters as the door slid shut behind him. The silence stretched again. Up close, she could see that he looked… uncomfortable. Not angry. Just awkward, which was almost more alarming. She was used to anger. This was unfamiliar.
Finally, he folded his hands behind his back.
“We should,” he said carefully, “discuss what happened earlier.”
His gaze flicked briefly toward her before settling off to the side, avoiding eye contact for what felt like the hundredth time that night.
____ stood near the foot of her bed, once again very aware of her appearance. She had removed the carefully composed version of herself he had last seen. Her hair now hung loose around her shoulders, standing barefoot in smudged makeup and a rumpled dress, in front of the General of the First Order. It felt nearly as inappropriate as their actions in the office had been.
Hux, meanwhile, stood stiffly near the door, as though unsure how far into the room he was meant to go.
The silence stretched.
“Yes, sir,” she said finally, her voice steady in an attempt to make up for her unprofessional appearance. “We probably should.”
Hux cleared his throat again and shifted, his hands remaining clasped firmly behind his back.
“I wish to make one thing very clear from the outset,” he said, settling into the clipped cadence she knew well. “Your decision in that moment was… tactically sound.”
She blinked. That was not what she expected him to start with.
“The situation required immediate improvisation,” he continued. “Your solution prevented the compromise of the mission and likely saved all of our lives.”
He paused, his gaze flicking toward her briefly before returning to the wall.
“So if you are concerned that I intend to discipline you for your conduct—”
“I was,” she admitted quickly, letting out a short, relieved laugh.
Hux faltered. His eyes moved back to her fully now.
“You were?”
She shrugged faintly, though the movement held very little humor.
“You’ve executed officers for less.”
A shadow crossed his expression.
“That was different.”
“Was it?”
The words slipped out before she could stop them.
Hux stiffened again, though this time the tension felt less like anger and more like discomfort.
“You acted in service of the First Order,” he said after a moment. “You followed your instincts under pressure. That is precisely what I expect from my second in command.”
The title carried a surprising amount of weight. ____ felt some of the tightness in her chest ease, replaced by something else she couldn't quite put a name to.
“So I’m not being court-martialed?”
“No.”
She nodded slowly.
“Good. And you're not gonna kill me?"
"No."
"Okay. Good."
Another silence fell between them. This one felt heavier.
They both knew that wasn’t the only topic they needed to discuss.
Hux shifted again, finally moving farther into the room. He stopped near the small desk across from her bed, resting his fingertips briefly against the edge before withdrawing them again as if realizing the gesture was too casual.
“There is,” he said carefully, “another matter.”
She waited. He hesitated.
For a man who could command fleets and armies without blinking, the uncertainty in his posture was startling.
“The nature of the act itself,” he said stiffly.
She clenched her jaw.
“Yes.”
Neither of them looked particularly comfortable now. Hux exhaled slowly through his nose.
“In the interest of clarity,” he continued, “the physical contact that occurred was… necessary to maintain the illusion.”
She nodded quickly.
“Of course.”
“Of course.”
The words hung there. Neither of them sounded entirely convinced.
Hux’s eyes flicked to hers again.
“As Ren insisted on pointing out, there were… moments,” he said carefully, “when the situation became somewhat… enthusiastic.”
She grimaced, closing her eyes as if to ward off the unwanted conversation.
“Sir—”
“I am merely stating an observation.”
“I noticed,” she muttered, professionalism be damned.
He straightened again, color rising faintly along his neck.
“My concern,” he continued, “is that the intensity of the performance may have—”
“Sir,” she interrupted somewhat harshly once again.
Her tone alone made him pause.
She took a slow breath, closing her eyes as if to shut out the moment. "Please. Ren's scene was humiliating enough. I can't apologize enough for my behavior, but please, don't force us to talk about it. We don't talk about things."
She couldn't bring herself to open her eyes.
"You can demote me, or reassign me if you need, sir. Just don't make me talk about it."
Hux was silent for several seconds too long for ____'s comfort.
Finally, she heard him speak. "Miss ____."
Jaw tight, ____ took a breath and opened her eyes to a squint, only to see Hux looking genuinely confused for the first time in the entirety of her service under his command.
"What are you talking about?"
Now confused herself, she opened her eyes fully to see Hux staring at her as if she had started speaking an entirely different language. ____ blinked at him.
“My… behavior,” she said slowly, the words suddenly feeling uncertain in her mouth. “Earlier.”
“In the office?”
“Yes.”
Another pause. Hux’s brow furrowed slightly.
“What?”
She stared at him.
“…Is that not what we're talking about right now, sir?”
Hux blinked at her.
“No.”
The single word landed with quiet finality. ____ stared back at him, her confusion deepening.
“No?”
“No,” he repeated, his expression tightening slightly. “I was referring to my conduct.”
That stopped her entirely.
“Your conduct?”
“Yes.”
He straightened slightly, shoulders drawing back as if bracing himself.
“As Ren so gleefully pointed out,” Hux continued stiffly, “my reactions during the… performance… were not entirely consistent with a strictly professional demonstration.”
Her brain struggled to catch up.
“Your reactions.”
“Yes.”
His jaw tightened faintly. He averted his gaze again.
“It would appear that certain… thoughts… were present that should not have been.”
For a moment, neither of them spoke. Hux looked beyond uncomfortable now, his composure beginning to show small cracks.
“I assumed,” he continued, voice tight, “that Ren’s commentary had made you aware of this.”
____ felt her stomach twist. Her mind immediately flashed back to the moment in the hallway where Ren had confronted them. She thought the entire scene was meant to humiliate her. Not…
Somehow, she felt herself flush even more.
“I…” she started, then stopped. Hux mistook the hesitation for confirmation.
“Yes,” he muttered under his breath, clearly mortified. “That is what I feared.”
He turned away from her then, fixing his attention on the wall beside her bed with an intensity that suggested he would very much prefer the wall to swallow him whole.
“For the sake of maintaining professional boundaries,” he continued stiffly, “I felt it necessary to clarify that those thoughts were circumstantial.”
She opened her mouth to speak, but couldn't find the words.
“They were the product of heightened adrenaline,” he went on, voice tight with controlled embarrassment. “And the proximity required by the deception.”
____ closed her eyes again, trying to piece together what the man had just told her.
“…Sir.”
“Yes?”
“I was under the impression that he was talking about my conduct. My thoughts."
Hux frowned faintly, finally looking her in the eye.
“…Excuse me?”
She hesitated.
“I thought he was talking about mine. I'm the one who should be apologizing. You're my superior officer, my conduct was entirely inappropriate.”
Silence fell over the room. Hux did not move. He did not blink. He simply looked at her as though the words had not fully registered in his brain.
“…Your conduct,” he repeated slowly.
“Yes.”
Another pause. Something shifted in his expression.
“I believed he was addressing me,” Hux said carefully. “So, you… Also?"
“Yes.”
“And that when he said you ‘forgot it was an act’…”
She nodded, a mixture of embarrassment and lingering confusion twisting in her stomach.
“Yes.”
Hux stared at her. For several long seconds, the room was completely still.
Then,
“…Oh.”
But the word came out oddly strained.
“Sir… you came here because you thought Ren might have been referring to your thoughts?” ____ asked cautiously as the meaning settled into place.
Another silence followed. A very different one this time. Suddenly, they were both realizing the exact same thing.
____ spoke first.
“…Sir?”
Hux did not answer immediately.
For a man who could command entire military fleets without hesitation, he now seemed absurdly uncertain of what to do with his hands. They had drifted from behind his back, only for him to clasp them together again a moment later. His gaze shifted dropped to the floor.
“…This is not a discussion we need to have.”
____ raised an eyebrow.
“Sir.”
He sighed quietly through his nose, clearly realizing he had walked himself into a corner.
“You asked a question,” he said stiffly.
“Not really.”
“Well, I answered it.”
“Not really,” she repeated, softer this time.
His lips pressed into a thin line. Across the room, she leaned lightly against the edge of the bed, watching him with what was now a mixture of eagerness and an anxious anticipation.
“You came to my quarters,” she said gently. “If you aren't here to chastise me for how I acted earlier...” she trailed off.
Hux looked at her again. Really looked at her. His gaze lingered just a moment too long before he forced it away.
Another pause stretched between them. Then, he exhaled slowly.
“I came here,” he admitted, “because I believed there was an understanding that Ren's comments were on my own thoughts that shouldn't have occurred.”
Her heart thumped in her chest.
“And what about that made you come here tonight?” she asked quietly.
“It felt necessary to… apologize." Hux shifted uncomfortably.
“Like you said, we did what was necessary. What is there to apologize for?” She probed, heart pounding in her chest. There's no way that this is what she thought it was… Was it?
He hesitated.
Then, almost reluctantly—
“My perception of the act was… not appropriate.”
Something about the way he said it made her tilt her head slightly.
“Not appropriate,” she repeated.
“Yes.”
Another quiet beat passed between them. She pushed herself away from the desk. The small movement closed the distance between them by a step.
“I thought he was talking about me,” she repeated once more, staring ahead. Hux finally met her eyes, and ____ nearly stepped back. She had never seen him look so human.
Hux’s breath caught.
“That has been established.”
“Hux,” she said, shaking her head slightly. “No. I wanted to…"
Oh.
Hux went very still. His eyes widened, proper understanding washing over him. For a moment neither of them spoke. The room suddenly felt much smaller. The admission seemed to settle between them like a physical thing.
Hux didn’t move, but his gaze dropped briefly to her lips before returning to her eyes.
“You shouldn't have,” he said quietly.
“Neither should you.”
“That is precisely my point.”
“Is it?”
She took another small step forward without fully realizing she had done it. Now, there was barely a foot of space between them.
Hux noticed. His posture stiffened automatically.
“You are my second-in-command,” he said.
“Yes.”
“There are boundaries.”
“Probably.”
He exhaled slowly.
“And yet you continue moving closer.”
Only then did she seem to realize how little distance remained between them.
She smiled slightly, cocking her head to the side. "I've risked execution too many times to count tonight. What's once more?" At this point, it felt like a risk worth taking.
It was her turn to glance at his lips now.
“…You haven’t stepped back.”
Hux opened his mouth to respond.
Stopped.
Because she was right. Another long second passed.
“…Do you want me to?” His gaze flicked down again.
“No,” she admitted softly.
The tension that had been building since the governor’s office tightened suddenly, pulling them closer in a way neither of them seemed able to resist. Hux lifted a hand slowly. He hesitated just before touching her, as though giving her time to stop him.
She didn’t.
His fingers brushed lightly along her jaw, tilting her face upward the same way he had earlier that evening. The contact sent a small shiver down her spine. For a moment they simply stood there, close enough that she could feel the warmth of his breath.
“This is a very poor decision,” he murmured.
“Probably,” she agreed.
Neither of them moved away.
The space between them shrank another fraction.
Then finally, Hux closed the distance.
The kiss was nothing like the desperate, frantic one they had shared in the governor’s office. This one was slower. Almost hesitant at first, like neither of them quite believed the moment was real. But when she leaned into it, when her hand lightly caught the front of his coat again, the last of his self-control slipped.
His other hand came up to cradle the side of her face as he kissed her properly this time, passion slipping through their restraint.
Her fingers tightened slightly in the front of his coat, steadying herself as she leaned into him, and he responded in kind; one hand still warm against her jaw, the other settling at her waist, holding her in place as if to reassure him that the moment was real.
Despite the intensity of his grasp on her, Hux pulled away first. He stared, breathing heavily, hands remaining firmly in place.
“This complicates matters,” he murmured after a moment, though there was less conviction behind the words than before.
“Everything about tonight has been complicated,” she pointed out gently.
“That is not reassuring.”
“It’s not supposed to be.”
That earned the faintest hint of a smile from him. Brief, but genuine.
It faded just as quickly. Hux straightened slightly, though he didn’t step away.
“We will need to proceed with caution,” he said, slipping back into something closer to his usual tone. “This cannot interfere with our duties.”
“It won’t.”
“And it must remain… discreet.”
“Of course.”
Another small silence settled between them. Different now. Softer. Hux studied her for a moment longer, as though committing something to memory.
“…You performed exceptionally tonight,” he said quietly.
She smiled faintly.
“So did you.”
A beat.
Then, almost reluctantly, he stepped back. The distance between them returned, but it felt less professional. Not the way it had been before.
“I should go,” he said.
“Probably.”
Neither of them moved.
Then finally, Hux tipped his head slightly.
“Goodnight, Lieutenant Commander.”
“Goodnight, General.”