Chapter Text
He had done his rounds with haste, making sure the bridge would continue to run smoothly in his absence, giving Phasma the news of his departure and instruction to send a transmission if she needed something, packing, and making sure Lieutenant Mitaka would check on Millicent while he was away. Her feeder was automated but having someone pet-sit would provide her with some sorely missed company— something Mitaka always seemed more than happy to help with.
The shuttle was ready and waiting as he reached Hangar One. Hux had to pause at the sight of it. Was this one of theirs? The First Order had more… modern… shuttles. Had they caught a prisoner? No, he spotted Zheth waiting to board by the exit ramp. Although, once she spotted him she turned and boarded; the action stung.
Hux caught up as she stood at the top of the ramp. “This isn’t a First Order craft.”
“It’s a Theta-class shuttle they managed to scrounge up. It’s imperial, but it’ll work as a better way to keep a low profile than one of your light shuttles. Also, those have horrible defense systems without TIEs to back it up; this old thing has a class one hyperdrive, decent shields, and more firepower— I don’t know about you but I like fast ships with better weapon systems.”
That didn’t explain how it got on his star destroyer nor how they got it for the mission on such short notice. He didn’t get a chance to ask though before Zheth was walking away. Hux followed her to the hall containing their quarters, finding Zheth in the first room taking her helmet off and rubbing her neck. He made his way a short distance further down and found his own room waiting; it was still small compared to his normal quarters on the Finalizer, and certainly more so than his temporary room on the Supremacy, but it was still the biggest of the three on this shuttle.
He got settled in and took a seat at the desk, swiping through messages before finding one regarding the mission. Hux opened it, and skimmed through the information for a while. Two senators, and word that General Leia Organa might be there. "Strange. Our intel shows she stays with the main fleet… Why leave now?"
A distraction perhaps? To draw attention away from the fleeing Resistance and buy them time. General Organa was no coward; Sloane had held respect for the former Princess, even if they were enemies. Whatever this ploy was, it wasn’t going to work. Her fleet was doomed, whether she was there to die with them or not. Hux continued reading through, pausing when the door to his room slid open behind him.
“I see I’m teaching you bad manners about knocking.” He mused, trying to inject some humor into the words. “Are you here to command that we swap rooms, Mission Leader?”
Yes he was still going to act petty about it. Zheth had skills with such missions, and he was more than happy to see them in action, but Pryde insulted him by putting her in charge of it.
Soft footsteps came to a stop behind him. “I take it you didn’t like my acting. I know Pryde put me in charge… but do you really think I care about room size? Trust me, if I had wanted this one, I would have taken it.”
Armitage turned in the chair, watching as she took a step back with a flicker of a hesitant expression on her face; she’d changed into a black uniform leaving her more vulnerable without her protective beskar, he noted. “Stop giving me that look.”
An ornery eyeroll at his tone, though he noted she was still lingering out of reach. “You’re not still mad are you? I didn’t ask to be in charge of this mission, you know. I’m still loyal to you, regardless of what Pryde says. I just couldn’t…”
“Do your job and guard me?” He was hurt by that, yet he understood. If she had attacked Pryde in her weakened condition, he would have deemed her a traitor and had her killed. Yet, they had been alone; in hindsight if they’d worked together Pryde would be dead right now.
Her expression twitched, as if about to argue before falling back into that look. Did she think he was going to lash out? Why was she acting off? “I am not mad at you. Admiral Pryde is… infuriating.”
A breath of silence settled between them but her guarded amber eyes never left him. She judged him, mulling over his words before coming to a decision.
“He did this to get under your skin.” Zheth moved closer as she determined that he was safe to approach, leaning onto his chair. “I only listened to Admiral Sleemo because I know what he used to do to you with that glorified cane of his, it’s not hard to guess… Kylo told me about your parentage and those scars don’t leave too much to the imagination…”
The last part was spoken so quietly he nearly missed it. His throat felt dry and tight despite his relief at seeing the Zheth he knew was in fact still here. Ren had known this whole time? It made him nervous to think about what else he knew— if it still mattered. The Knight of Ren had vanished without any word or questions from other officers. Hux was growing more confident in the idea that for one reason or another, Ren was dead.
“I didn’t want to risk him doing something worse than he already had so I did what I had to. Honestly everything happened so fast and there’s been so much after waking up that I—”
“I understand, I am merely concerned about what Pryde is plotting. Things… haven’t been going well for me since I allowed Starkiller Base to be destroyed.”
Admitting it out loud was like a shot to the chest. He was supposed to be a prodigy with battle tactics and now that self-doubt had crept in, leaving him fearful of attack just as he’d been on that shuttle as a child surrounded by the gang of child soldiers. Back then, Rax had ordered them to follow his every command, and they’d done so, making him feel powerful for once in his life… Now… that feeling was fading.
“Are they seriously blaming you?” The response drew him from his miserable thoughts. She scowled angrily, eyes blazing with renewed life in that protective way he loved to stare into. “Why not anyone else who could have done something? Like, I don’t know, the guy with the magic powers and laser sword?”
Oh how he loved it when she insulted people he hated. It was something he’d missed. Hux chuckled somewhat sadly, reaching up and brushing a hand through her hair. “That’s not how things work, Love. I’m General of the First Order and the one placed in charge of the Starkiller project… failures like that reflect upon me… Meaning I suffer the consequences.”
Zheth shifted closer, slipping onto his lap carefully as if she was still sore or worried it would hurt him. Armitage put an arm around her, pinning her close. Finally, he could really feel that she was alive and awake.
“It’s not your fault, someone… there was a traitor who lowered the shields.” Her eyes narrowed, frustration entering her tone as she struggled to recall the events. “I don’t remember seeing who but—”
“Phasma took care of him.” He assured her, tilting his head to give a momentary kiss to the top of her head. “Nevertheless, his betrayal is still an indication of my poor ability to locate traitors and maintain loyalty.”
“...When you say ‘suffer the consequences’… What do you mean? Is that what happened to your head— before Pryde hit you?” She brushed a few strands of his hair away from the cut near his hairline, dried blood still stained it from the swagger stick’s strike as he hadn’t taken the time to get a medical droid to take care of it and it had continued oozing after he cleaned it. “Which one of them did this? Give the word and I’ll make them regret it.”
“My, my, we woke up violent didn’t we?” He leaned into her touch despite the throb of pain and sighed. At least someone was on his side and willing to jump to his defense. It wasn’t a trait found in the First Order, not since… Cardinal, and even he’d held more loyalty to Brendol than Armitage— in his opinion at least. “It’s from an incident involving rebel spies aboard a fueling station.”
“Commander Pyre was supposed to take care of them… and yet Pryde said he’d failed.” How someone failed to kill trapped prisoners, Hux would never understand.
“Well, I was hired to protect you, I think I’m allowed to wish death on whoever threatens even a single pretty, orange hair on your head. Pryde needs to sleep with one eye open because I was half tempted to make him choke on that stick of his. As the only witness I think you’d vouch for me on that being an unfortunate accident.” Too bad she hadn’t been in good enough shape to do so.
“I think which of us kills Pryde first will be a running competition.” Pryde was high on the list of people he wanted dead, it was just a matter of getting a perfect moment to do so. One slip up, that was all he needed for an excuse to execute the man, or one attack to make him fall to ‘some rebel’. “But is being hired by me the only reason you’d kill him for me?” He arched an eyebrow.
“I also don’t like people like him.” A hand brushed along his sideburns and jaw before trailing down to his chest. Hux sucked in a breath as Zheth started speaking again, tone shifting to something more seductive as she kept going. “ And I think it’d just really suck to lose you, Armi.”
“Why’s that?” A slightly breathless question. He repositioned, getting more comfortable and allowing her more access to continue her actions. A chair really wasn't a great spot for this but he was loath to move. Any doubts he’d had on the Finalizer about whether she was loyal to him or not were deteriorating beneath the pleasant touches.
“I really enjoy our time together.” The clasps on his uniform were undone and the fabric pulled aside so she could run her hands across the black undershirt still covering his chest. “In terms of right now though— because I’d never get to show my thanks for saving my life, and apologize for earlier.”
He was almost embarrassed at how easily flustered he got with her. Hux grabbed her chin, holding her head still for a kiss that started out with the hope that she would understand his own silent apology for snapping at her. However it grew more heated with need by the moment. He’d gone so many years without anything intimate like this and now a little over two weeks felt too long. Armitage felt like a man starved now that he’d gotten a taste. “She’s ruined me.”
Was this really happening? Her movements suggested yes but it still felt too good to be true after all the shit he’d been dealing with. For a moment he feared this was just another dream that would turn into a nightmare. How long before he felt blood dripping onto him or until her features became torn and lifeless? Would he wake up at his desk or was it possible that he was still knocked out from that explosion and he’d wake up in a medical bay? Had Pryde struck him unconscious and left him to wake in the training room?
The feeling of her was much more tangible right now, he discarded the idea of this being a nightmare and pressed her closer to pause her attempt to kneel between his legs as he continued to rock their hips together. A jerk accompanied by a shout of pain startled him.
Zheth groaned, turning her head away before answering the unspoken question. “It’s fine, just… hit a sore bruise. I’d just avoid the lower back… and some other spots”
Bruises? She’d been in the med bay until earlier today. “Did Pryde retaliate when I wasn’t around?”
“Mmh… Raincheck then.” He hummed as the mood died for him, shifting his grip before picking her up as he stood. “I need to shower and get something for my head anyway, and you are joining me.”
He wanted her company but this would also let him see these bruises. Zheth might be brushing it off but he wasn’t about to. Whatever damage had been done, he wanted to see it for himself.