Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was rare for a stormtrooper to become anything other than another dead body on a battlefield. But here you were, a newly appointed officer to the First Order. You had proven your loyalty to the First Order through years of battle, and your true worth during the Order’s most recent large-scale mission, when you prevented an entire battalion of troopers from being blown up by dismantling a system of hidden bombs in the warehouse where they, and you, were hiding out from Rebel Forces.

Because you had been a stormtrooper up until the current day, you still had a few friends in the corps (and alive), who you were currently eating lunch with in one of the many Finalizer dining halls. It was the first time you had been able to eat together in quite a while, as you were no longer all in one squadron. The meal was bland as usual; a veg-meat sandwich, vitamin sludge, and a couple of energy capsules. Trooper JK-828, who you lovingly referred to as Jak, was pushing the vitamin sludge around his plate in an attempt to create some sort of crude image.

“I don’t see why they give us both this shit and the energy capsules, it’s not like we’re super-soldiers or something,” Jak said, turning his plate to show off the masterfully composed image of a dick he’d made out of the sludge.

“Classy,” Sonia (official name SN-1424) snarkily replied. “It’s because the energy capsules are just for energy, nothing else. The vitamin jelly gives us all the nutrients the other microwavable styrofoam food can’t.”

“Maybe the vitamin sludge does turn us into super-soldiers,” offered Nora, or NO-5475, shovelling a clump of it into her mouth and immediately gagging. “Or maybe not.”

You were about to bring up the fact that it most definitely did not turn you into super-soldiers considering Nora still completely missed the target half the time in shooting practice, when you heard your datapad give off a soft ding, alerting you to a new message. You opened it and immediately felt your muscles clamp up. It was from the General.

Please report to my personal office immediately. We need to update some files before you can be officially promoted to the position of officer.

You excused yourself from the table and headed first to your new quarters. You knew it would not be appropriate to show up in the stormtrooper armour you currently wore when you had a brand-spankin’-new officer’s uniform waiting for you in your room.

The officer’s uniforms were a greyish-navy-blue color made of thick wool fabric designed specially to withstand the cold depths of space. The finalizer was heated, of course, but you still found yourself shivering when you wore anything other than your trooper gear. This was especially true in the dormitories; they probably saved money making their least important “employees” freeze even under layers of blankets. Besides the heavy wool, the uniform also had a belt that went around the blazer to prevent any hazards caused by loose fabric. You had heard horror stories of workers of all ranks getting their clothing caught in one of the many machines used to run the massive ship and then getting crushed or ground to death. There were also fitted leather gloves and a structured cap with a black brim which matched the gloves and the First Order logo on the front.

When you finally arrived at your room, you found your uniform neatly folded and placed on your also neatly made bed. The First Order expected nothing less than perfection in every way. Droids already did nearly all of the housekeeping and cleaning work on the ship, you wondered why they didn’t just replace everyone with them, it would certainly help prevent slip-ups like defecting troopers.

You worked at dismantling your trooper gear, placing each armoured piece in an orderly fashion at the end of your bed. You kept on your tank top and athletic leggings as you grabbed up the new uniform and began to unfold it. After laying it out, you were a bit skeptical of the size. You had submitted your measurements to the tailoring department a couple of weeks ago, but the articles in front of you looked a bit smaller than you’d expected. Hoping they would have some give to them, you grabbed the trousers and began to pull them over the leggings.

Definitely no give. You could barely get the pants up mid-thigh for fear of them tearing in the waist. This put you in quite the predicament. You knew the General would not be pleased if you showed up in anything other than your officer’s uniform, but you couldn’t show up in trousers and blazer with half of the seams ripped open. The General was perhaps the worst stickler of all when it came to neatness. It was part of what made him so good at his job, and also extremely intimidating.

General Hux may have had a zero-tolerance policy when it came to even minor mistakes, but you didn’t have any outfit other than the trooper gear you had just taken off that would be appropriate to meet with him in, so that would just have to do. You pulled the layers back on, dreading what his response would be to your imperfect presentation.

Your new quarters were not horribly far from the General’s office, the walk there only took about 10 minutes, not bad considering some treks through the ship could take an hour on foot. You took a few deep breaths before knocking thrice on the door to General Hux’s personal office.

“Come in,” he said from within, prompting you to press the button on the keypad by the doorway that triggered the door to slide open. You immediately felt the General’s cold eyes scrutinizing you, trying to comprehend why you were not in uniform. You did not even need to look up as you stepped in to know he was annoyed by your shortcoming.

“Why are you not in uniform, Officer?” He asked, his tone level and devoid of any emotion.

You looked up at him then, taking in his fragile features. It was not the first time you had seen the General in person, but it was rare to see him so up-close. You had always admired General Hux. He was a phenomenal strategist and coordinator, not to mention quite handsome as well. His jaw and cheekbones were sharply defined from his face, and his striking blue eyes contrasted wonderfully with his flawlessly styled ginger hair. He was not as muscularly built as Captain Phasma and the infamous Commander Ren, not surprising considering he rarely saw the fighting in-person. That was not to say he was lanky or thin, no, he was built quite nicely really, it was clear he could hold his own in battle if needed.

“Do you plan on answering my question, Officer, or do I need to repeat myself?” Hux said, sneering at you in distaste.

You snapped out of it, your face hot from embarrassment. “No, sir, my apologies,sir,” you quickly filled, hoping your ogling hadn’t ruined your chances of him somehow understanding the predicament of the too-small uniform. “The uniform did not fit, sir. Wearing it would not follow First Order standards. I apologize, General,” you explained. For a few moments he was silent, and you naively believed he may let it go.

“Did you not submit your measurements to the ship’s tailoring office?” his brows raised and eyes judging.

“I did, sir.”

“Then how do you explain the uniform ‘not fitting’,” he questioned. It was clear he had no sympathy for you and would not be letting the situation go without you admitting fault for the tailor’s mistake.

“I don’t know, sir. Perhaps the tailor mixed up the measurements of another officer and mine,” you offered, diverting your eyes now to avoid his icy glare.

“You think our tailors would make such a mistake, Officer?”

“I cannot say, sir, I’ve never personally met the tailors aboard this ship,” you answered. You knew that this response would anger him, but it was the truth. You were confident that you had submitted the correct measurements, the mistake had to have been made at some point after you sent the form to the Uniforms Office.

The General stalked around his desk and towards where you stood halfway through the room, stopping about two feet in front of you. He was fuming, his fists clenched and shaking slightly from anger. “No, officer, I don’t think the tailors did make a mistake. Unlike you, Officer, they are competent in completing the most basic functions of their jobs. You, on the other hand, seem to be completely incompetent, I wouldn’t be shocked if I found out that you typed completely random numbers into that form. Did you do that, officer? It would not be surprising, Officer, given that you’ll always just be stormtrooper trash deep down.” Each word was perfectly enunciated and cold, cutting through you like a blaster shot.

You saw red. “If I’m just ‘stormtrooper trash’, General, I think it would be fair to say that at your core you’re really just Brendol Hux’s bastard son. Aren’t you?” you hissed back at him.

The General’s face twisted in fury and he leaned forward as if to advance upon you further. You snapped out of your blind rage, body freezing and your eyes going wide in dismay at the words that had managed to worm their way out of your mouth. You spun around and sprinted out of the doorway and down the hall. Your heart hammered in your chest, you felt like you could barely breathe as you ran as fast as you could back to your quarters to hide from the fearsome and powerful man that was General Hux.

Chapter Text

You had made it safely back to your quarters, but now what were you supposed to do? There was not a doubt in your mind that the General was already on his way to demote you, maybe even kill you for the disrespect. The General’s sense of pride was not one to be messed with, there was only one person (at least you assumed they were human) in the First Order that could truly get away with disrespecting Hux: Supreme Leader Commander Ren. Before Former Supreme Leader Snoke and Captain Phasma were killed by rebel forces, the General and the Commander had constantly vied for power in the Order. It was only natural that the force user would inherit the title of Supreme Leader rather than Hux, who hardly even trusted the powers of the Force. The General had been extremely bitter ever since.

When you had first gone to your new quarters to change uniforms you hadn’t gotten a chance to really look around. Now that you were urgently searching for a hiding place, you found yourself getting quite familiar with it. It was not large by any means, but it was larger than the trooper dorms and you didn’t have to share it with anyone else. You appreciated your newfound privacy for a moment before continuing your frantic search. Directly to the right after entering the room was your bed, a twin, built into the wall. Opposite the bed were drawers built into the wall for your uniforms, casual attire, and any other personal items. After walking through the sort-of hallway made up by the wall of drawers and the bed, you entered into a small personal area. There was a desk attached to the end of the bed with a chair which tucked in nicely. There was a door in the left wall of the “living area”, a bit past the drawers, which led to a refresher. The refresher was small, just a toilet, small shower stall, and a sink with a rectangular mirror bolted to the wall above it.

You stood in the middle of your small room, looking around and going over your options for a hiding place. You didn’t have much time, the General was surely not far off now. The shower stall? No, you wouldn’t really be hidden there, just as far from the door as possible. The air vent? The cover was bolted to the wall and you had no tools. The bed? Right, because a lump under the sheets wouldn’t be suspicious at all.

A sharp knock at the door sent your heart into overdrive. You looked to your right and saw the desk. Of course! You pulled the chair out from under the desk and replaced it with yourself. Then, you pulled it back in as much as you could, squeezing yourself against the back of the bed.

The knocking continued. “I know you’re in there, Officer ATR-10”, Hux projected his voice through the door as he continued to rap his fist against it. “If you don’t let me in, I will simply let myself in. You cannot hide any longer, you know I have clearance for the entire ship.”

Your heart was thumping in your eardrums, and you swore you could hear the blood rushing through your veins. There was absolutely no way you were opening the door for the General. Honestly, if he had clearance to open it anyway why was he even bothering to order you to. One might argue that it was common courtesy, but you knew better. The General couldn't care less about “courtesy” when it came to asserting his power. No, this was about humiliating you. He wanted you to open the door yourself. To give in to the shame and embarrassment and bend to his will. You would not give him that satisfaction, you would rather die. “You probably will die,” you muttered to yourself, snorting weakly at your own morbid joke.

“I’m giving you three seconds to open this door, Officer, and then I will open it myself.” He cleared his throat and began to count down, “Three… two… one… zero.” You heard him laugh sadistically under his breath before continuing, “Well then, I’ll be entering now.”

The soft beeps which emitted from the keypad next to your door told you that he wasn’t kidding. You closed your eyes as tight as you could and focused on breathing silently and keeping your body from moving. The ‘keeping your body from moving’ bit was easy, you were practically paralyzed by your fear.

You heard the door slide open, emitting a small his as the pressure-lock was deactivated. The General’s bootfalls were calculated and slow, reflecting the poise that the man (usually) held himself with. He walked through the small hallway until he was standing directly next to the desk you hid under. Waves of fear washed over you, dissipated slightly when his feet shuffled and he turned toward the door to your refresher. He entered and the rattling of plastic hooks against metal told you that he had just checked the shower stall. The General emitted a small hum after seeing that you had not hidden yourself in the refresher. He exited and returned to the main area of the dorm.

“You may as well come out now before you embarrass yourself further when I find your hiding spot and then drag you out of your quarters for the whole ship to see what and fool you are to question my authority.” His tone was sadistic and threatening. You had attacked his pride, and he would not hesitate to do the exact same to you.

Your foot suddenly slid out from under you, and before you could stop it it hit against the chair, causing a dull but loud thud to echo through the room. The General let out a loud scoff before walking around to the front of the desk, pulling out the chair, and staring down at you with a look of cruel amusement plastered on his face.

“Under the desk? Really? I’d think an officer of the First Order would be able to do better than that. I mean really, not even the air duct?” He taunted you, smirk plastered on his face. He prodded you with the toe of his boot as he spoke, “Now then, will you remove yourself from the floor, Officer, you look like a child who has just stolen a cookie from the cookie jar and doesn’t want their mother to find out.”

You glared at him, never breaking eye contact as you moved to stand from your spot on the ground. “I don’t appreciate being compared to a mere child, General, I have worked very hard to achieve my position in the ranks. I’ve certainly seen much more action than you have, Sir.” You knew you deserved the taunting, but that didn’t mean you were going to take it without fighting back.

“You don’t want to be compared to a child, and yet you act just like one. And since you seem to enjoy acting like one so much, I’ll treat you like one. You’ll be joining the laundry team for the week, then we can discuss what to do with you from there.” He stared at you, unblinking and unfeeling as he delivered your verdict.

“What?! No!” you exclaimed, reaching to grab his shoulder as he turned away from you.

He blocked your hand with his before you could get even remotely close. “Do you think you have the right to touch me, Officer? Or should I say, Laundry Droid? Ah, and while we’re on the topic, a droid will drop off an old cleaning staff jumpsuit for you. It doesn’t matter if it fits since you won’t be seen anyway.” He gave you an evil smirk before turning away and heading for the door.

“I bet you get off on shit like this when you go back to your room at night,” you muttered under your breath. You thought you had said it quiet enough for him to not hear, but you should have known better.

He turned back around with an inquisitive look and asked, in a sickly sweet voice, “What was that you just said, Laundry Droid?”. He cocked his head to the side as he awaited your response.

In as innocent a tone as you could muster up, you said, “Oh, I was just complimenting how nice your ass looks in those slacks… Sir.”

The General’s face flushed bright red against his pale skin and his whole body began to shake in anger. His face crumpled in rage, his lips drawn in a tight frown and eyebrows knit together. He stormed back into the room, forcing you against the desking and sticking his finger in your face as he spat out his next words, “And for that, scum, you’ll be taking care of all of my paperwork in addition to the laundry duty. Since you clearly can’t comprehend the responsibility and professionalism it takes to be an officer, I will teach you. I will make you work until you’re begging me to discharge you from the Order. And then, I’ll give you your position as Officer back.” With that, he pivoted sharply and stormed out of your quarters.

You were left shaking against your desk, trying to fight back tears so he wouldn’t get the satisfaction of hearing you cry. When you were certain he was gone and out of range of hearing you, you let your knees collapse and you crumpled on the floor against the metal side of the desk, sobs wracking your body. What were you going to do now?

Chapter Text

You woke up the next morning with a pounding headache; it felt as though your skull was about to explode from the pressure behind your eyes. You yawned and stretched your limbs to the very corners of the mattress. In addition to crying in the shower stall for close to an hour, you had not gotten nearly enough sleep. The General was truly terrifying when angered, and knowing that made you hope you would not have to see him when you picked up the paperwork later in the day.

Presently, though, there was a mechanical, rhythmic knocking at your door. You rolled, literally rolled, out of the bunk built into the wall and onto the floor before peeling yourself up off of it to answer whoever was knocking. You pressed the small green button on the keypad and the door slid open. At first you thought someone had knocked and ran as some sort of absurd joke, but a series of high pitched beeps caused you to look down at your feet. It was a small black maintenance droid with a faded grey article of clothing lain haphazardly on top of it. You were surprised it hadn’t fallen off and jammed the little droid’s wheels. The droid was still beeping incessantly as you had not yet acknowledged it. Maintenance droids were quite primitive when it came to human interaction. While protocol and even astromech droids had the capability to register human words and actions, maintenance droids did not have as refined programming, they were about as good as a robotic vacuum when it came to working with living things.

“I hear you, I hear you,” you muttered grumpily at the droid before snatching the crumpled piece of clothing off of it. The droid ceased it’s aggravated noises, instead opting to let out a happy whistled melody before backing up and rolling on down the corridor. As you watched it go, you noticed that the hallway was entirely empty, meaning it must still be sometime during the sleep cycle for your block. For a moment you were confused as to why you had been woken up so early, but as you unfolded the old grey jumpsuit you realized: laundry duty. ‘Of course,’ you thought to yourself. The laundry process was typically completed entirely by droids, which was why it was extra humiliating that you had been assigned to such a menial task.

Before beginning your morning routine, you checked your datapad for the time and to see if you had any other notifications. You saw that it was an hour before you would usually wake up, meaning it was two hours before the work cycle began. There was also a notification from the General. It was from twenty minutes earlier, you shuddered before opening it. You knew a message from the General was not something you could just ignore and avoid, it could be a notice with important information sent to all staff on board for all you knew.

Collect chutes C1-C12
Transport to Lower Level Area 616
Load and Operate Machine ID 616003

Directions for the day. Written like code given to the droids no less. You didn’t know whether to feel angered or relieved that the message was so straightforward. On one hand it didn’t include any direct insults or references to the previous day. On the other hand, it was demeaning to be spoken to like a machine. He could have at least written out full sentences. Before you could decide whether or not to reply, the General’s icon turned green and a typing bubble appeared. Your anxiety grew the longer he typed, but as soon as you decided to close the datapad until he finished, the three dots disappeared and were replaced with his message.

Good morning Laundry Droid ATR-10. You may take breakfast in the Officers’ Lounge as it is easier than requesting the kitchen prepare food early for one insignificant staff member. Complete the above orders as soon as you are finished eating. You may eat lunch at the same time you normally would. After lunch my assistant will deliver the documents I need filed. They must be completed and returned to me within the week. -General Hux

You honestly wished he had just left it at the first message, but you were still grateful that your meals had not been changed. You decided not to reply, he could see that you had read it on his screen. There was no option to turn off read receipts on First Order issued datapads.

Not wanting to waste any time, you quickly washed your face, brushed your teeth and slid into the musty jumpsuit. It wasn’t flattering but at least it fit (in a sense of the word). The drawstring in the center was what made the piece ‘one size fits all’. You tightened and tied the waist and threw on your standard issue boots. On your way out you grabbed a satchel along with your datapad, comm-link, and a holo-novel to pass the time.

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It hadn’t even been an hour since you arrived at the laundry facility you were assigned to and you were already halfway through the holonovel you’d brought. After collecting the giant rolling bins kept at the bottom of each laundry chute and transferring them to the basement area, you had been repeating the same motions of loading, waiting, and unloading, slowly working your way through the twelve full bins.

The laundry facility was a large open room with two rows of giant dry cleaning machines. Each machine load took twenty minutes and completed half of a bin. That meant that at only an hour in, you had completed a bin and a half, with ten and a half still to go. You wouldn’t be eating lunch until 14:00 at the absolute earliest.

You sighed and returned to your holonovel. There were very few novels available in the First Order holo-library, but you had picked this one up when you were stationed in Bespin for a short period a few years back. It was about a princess and a jedi knight, certainly the type of story your higher-ups would frown upon. But they didn’t need to know.

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After a quick lunch, you made your way to the General’s office. He had said that his assistant would deliver the files to you, but you didn’t know where and you didn’t even know who his assistant was. You were hoping you would run into this mystery assistant along the way.

You had just turned the corner into the corridor where the General’s office was located when you spotted a man around your age wheeling a book rack of files down the hall in your direction. You didn’t recognize his uniform, but something about the hefty amount of files told you he was the one you were looking for. You sped up your pace, waiting until the very last moment to move out of the way so he was forced to stop in his tracks.

Before he could continue down the hallway you spoke, “Are you General Hux’s assistant by any chance?”

He looked you up and down and quirked an eyebrow up before responding with a question - “Are you the officer that has him wreaking havoc on the staff stationed on the Bridge?”. A small smirk graced his lips as he spoke, causing a blush to form on your nose and cheeks.

“Something tells me that would, in fact, be me,” you said, giggling lightly. You chewed on your bottom lip, an exaggerated look of guilt painted on your face as you looked at him. You both snorted and broke into a fit of laughter.

As you sobered up, the man offered you his name, “I’m Special Lieutenant Trevino, but feel free to call me Astin, I’d actually prefer it coming from someone as cute as you.”. You let out a breathy chuckle before offering your name and ID number in return.

The man standing before you was not what you had imagined the General’s Assistant to look like. In your mind you had pictured a clean cut, professional businesswomen who made no mistakes. Astin seemed so easygoing and fun, not to mention handsome. He had wavy dark brown hair and hazel eyes to match. His skin was tan and his muscles were deliciously toned. You judged that he had to be around 5’10”, not quite as tall as the General. To think, just the day before you had been checking out General Hux when you could have been ogling his eye candy assistant.

You took the cart from him after exchanging contact information on your datapads. He had offered to push the cart for you, but you said you didn’t want to cause any more issues for him than you already had. He insisted it wouldn’t be an issue but just as he said that he got a notification from his boss, the General, to report to the bridge. You both headed off in opposite directions.

“If you need any help you know how to contact me!” Astin yelled down the hallway, giving you a wink when you turned your head to look back at him. You just smiled and turned off into a different part of the ship.

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You had decided to complete the mountain of paperwork in one of your favorite areas in the whole ship. It was a large common area near your dormitory with tons of tables and desks to read, study, play holochess, or partake in any number of other leisure activities. Despite this, it was almost always completely empty. Even before your quarters had been located near it, you would often spend what little free time you had sitting and watching the stars and planets float by. There were giant windows set about two feet deep in the wall, creating benches one could sit or lie on directly next to the transparisteel.

You opted to sit at one of the large metal meeting style tables next to the windows, where there was plenty of space to sort and pile the different paperwork and files. This was where the General found you late in the night as he made rounds through the ship before returning to his personal quarters for the night. It was already over an hour into the sleep cycle. Hux, as usual, had stayed late in his office responding to messages and planning strategies for galactic domination. He was rather shocked that anyone was in this common area, even more so that it was the one person he absolutely did not want to see. At least that was what he had convinced himself was the case. He often came to this area to reflect, or do the opposite and clear his mind of stress and worries. It was dimly lit, great for resting his eyes after a day of looking at different datapads and holograms. Today it seemed he would not get the opportunity due to your presence.

Despite his air of indifference as he quickly and silently exited the high-ceilinged room, he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of guilt. It was the load of work that he had given you, after all, that was causing you to work even later into the sleep cycle than him. He shook off the feeling and affirmed to himself that you absolutely deserved it after the amount of mouthing off you had done.

That was what he told himself, but an hour later he found himself in the common area once again. ‘I’m just going to make sure she’s not overdoing it,’ was what he had told himself as he made the walk from his quarters to the room you had been working in.

What he found as he entered into the opposite end of the room was not at all what he had anticipated. There were now two people seated at the conference table. As he stepped closer he saw that you were passed out, head laying on a stack of paperwork. It took a moment before Hux realized that the other person at the table was his own assistant, Lieutenant Trevino. He appeared to be watching you sleep. Nothing else, just watching as you slept, a small smile on his lips. General Hux watched as the Lieutenant, Astin as you had come to know him, reached out and began stroking your hair. Something about his assistant’s actions didn’t sit right with the General. It felt wrong. He almost felt… jealous. No, it couldn’t be that. Either way the Lieutenant’s actions were not appropriate and Hux would not sit by and let it happen.

General Hux strode delicately over to the end of the table, stomping one foot down to get Lieutenant Trevino’ attention. As soon as the Lieutenant looked up and saw who it was, his hand shot back from your hair and he stumbled as he tried to stand from the office chair. General Hux parted his lips to begin reprimanding the man, but he was already halfway to the door scrambling and tripping over himself as he tried to escape. His actions made the General even more suspicious. It certainly wasn’t normal for someone who was doing nothing wrong to look so guilty. Hux made a note to look into the situation further tomorrow. For now, he had to deal with you asleep at the table.

What the General had failed to realize was that the frantic movements of the Lieutenant’s escape had woken you up. You now looked up at the General, who was staring in scrutiny at the exit. You wondered what had him so interested, you looked through the exit into the small passageway which led to the common area and did not see anyone there.

“Um… General?” You said, hoping to get his attention without angering him. His eyes shot down to look at you as you fumbled to make yourself presentable. “Can I help you with something, Sir? I was just completing the work you gave me. I-I guess I must have fallen asleep accidentally, I apologize.” You were fumbling over your words, getting tripped up by your tongue which was heavy from sleep and lack of use.

The General on the other hand, was panicking inwardly, though he remained perfectly poised externally. He did not know how to explain the situation that had just occurred and did not want to sound stupid if you had known of the Lieutenant’s presence, so he went to the only thing he knew would work. Reprimanding you. Doing so while you looked up at him with sleepy eyes made him feel slightly sick to his stomach, but he needed to make sure that you returned to your room and got enough sleep to complete your work at normal capacity tomorrow as well.

“Once again you have shown what an unprofessional and incompetent worker you are, Officer. It is far from appropriate to sleep in a common area. If you wish to sleep,Officer, return to your room. I will not have you disgracing the Order with such piglike behavior. Do you understand, Officer? Have I made myself very clear?” His tone was sharp and clipped. At the same time, you did not feel entirely convinced with his anger this time. You wondered if something was wrong, but would not say anything in fear that you would bring out the wrath in him you had experienced the previous day.

“Y-yes, Sir. I understand, Sir.” You replied simply. Moving to replace the files to the cart. As you did so, you realized that the General had already collected a large amount of them and was carrying them in his arms. “Sir, those aren’t….” You went to say, but he interrupted you.

“I thought I told you to return to your room, Officer. Now pick up this mess and go,” he said. Then he swiftly turned and stormed out of the common area, carrying the stack of files under his arm.

You couldn’t help but wonder if he felt bad.

Chapter Text

You had spent the entire walk back to your quarters wondering why the General had acted so strangely, and now you lay in your bunk, still trying to figure it out. There were the obvious answers: that he deemed it unprofessional to sleep anywhere other than one’s own quarters, or, that he wanted to make sure you were rested enough to function at full capacity for another day of… laundry. Even though both explanations made perfect sense, a small voice in the back of your mind offered a more dangerous thought: ‘He cares about you, he was worried about you.’.

“No way,” you groaned aloud, “I’m going crazy from all this shit.”. You flailed your arms and legs to shake out the frustration, trying to relax your mind and fall asleep. It was already midway through the sleep cycle, but your nap in the common area now had you lying completely awake and full of energy. And with that energy came a wandering mind. Maybe having the General’s attention wasn’t so bad, after all, you couldn’t deny how attractive you found him. You imagined General Hux standing by the meeting table, pondering the proper way to wake you up. It made you giggle to think of the General not knowing the perfect plan of action for once. It was refreshing.

Just as you had begun to enjoy the thought of the high-and-mighty General Hux being concerned about you, your datapad alerted you to a new message. It was from the General’s assistant, Astin. Your lips spread into a giddy smile when you read the message.

Maybe it’s too forward, but I was wondering if you'd like to grab an early dinner with me
tomorrow when I drop off General Hux’s paperwork. I completely understand if you’re not
interested, but I’d really like to get to know you better :)

Astin’s message had you giggling like a schoolgirl. Under normal circumstances, you would have been upset by the fact that it meant the General was assigning you more work. You had assumed that because you had been given a week to complete it, you would not receive more until you returned the first load to the General. However, you had also assumed that the General taking back some of the files was a display of his consideration for you. Clearly, you had been wrong about that, so you really weren’t all that surprised that there was more paperwork on the way.

You replied back quickly, but not too quickly. You wanted to avoid seeming too interested, that wasn’t your style, and you definitely didn’t want to appear desperate. You replied simply and to the point.

More paperwork :’( But yes, I’d love to get to know more about you as well! See you
then.

After sending the message, you decided it would be best to at least put away the datapad and close your eyes. Even if you didn’t fall asleep, at least you would still be resting. You dimmed the LED lights fixed in the wall until they were nearly off, pulled the thin blanket up until it was covering your ears, and shut your eyes and mind from the world.

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You weren’t sure when you fell asleep, but you woke up at the same time as the previous day. You followed the same routine as the day before as well, up until around 17:00 when you had planned to meet up with Astin for a meal. Before you left the laundry facility to make your way up to Dining Hall B, you ducked into a refresher to freshen yourself up. The first thing you did was reapply deodorant. Even though you hadn’t taken part in any sort of physical activity, women’s deodorant was a total scam and never rarely lasted past midday. You would think that the First Order would have standard issue antiperspirants, but no, you had to buy it yourself at one of the small supply stores throughout the ship. You also decided to rinse your face with a bit of water at the sinks. Sometimes one of the laundry machines would get clogged up and start spewing fumes, and today you had been sitting right next to one as the harsh mixture of chemicals burst out. Even if your face appeared clean, you preferred to avoid developing a rash while eating dinner with the General’s hot assistant.

Looking at yourself in the mirror, you wished you had enough time to change into something less horrendous. But for now, the faded jumpsuit would have to do. You exited the refresher and walked a few doors down to the elevator. The ride up 10 flights only took a matter of seconds. Everything in the ship was highly efficient -- except you, it seemed. Not letting the negative thought get to you, you strode confidently to the entrance of the dining hall where you saw Astin waiting for you.

“Hey!” you hopped out of his peripheral and directly in front of him to get his attention. It worked, as he lifted his head from his datapad and smiled at you, returning your greeting.

“You’re late,” he said, jostling you lightly with his elbow. “I was beginning to believe I’d been stood up!” He said this in a theatrically exaggerated tone, heaving a heavy sigh immediately after as if to prove his distress.

You laughed openly, drawing a few bored stares from those around. The dining hall was mostly empty due to it still being fairly early in the evening. Most wouldn’t arrive for another hour or two. You grabbed a tray and, excited having noticed it, made your way over to the salad cart. It was extremely rare to have fresh vegetables available on board, and even more rare for them to be available to regular employees. Knowing this, you were not about to give up the opportunity to eat food with some flavor for once.

Astin seemed to have the same idea, setting his tray next to yours on the cart. “I wonder if someone had a baby or something,” he remarked as he looked hungrily at the assortment of produce. It would not be an unreasonable suggestion if you were not on the flagship vessel of the First Order.

“I doubt anyone has time for raising kids on this ship,” you replied as you loaded up your plate. “More likely it’s to celebrate the victory of a mission.”

He drew his brows together before puzzling: “Don’t you think we would have heard about a victory great enough to warrant salad for the masses?” It was a good point, and one that left you thoroughly confused.

“Well, I’m not about to kick a gift bantha in the mouth. I’m just happy to eat something other than the mystery sludge for a change,” You snorted a bit after speaking. It was true, even if you were curious, it wouldn’t change anything in the long run, you’d rather just enjoy your food and move on.

You quickly scanned the large room before moving to sit at a table near the entrance to the cafeteria. There was one other duo sitting on the other end of the table, giving you and Astin plenty of privacy to speak comfortably.

After you settled in and began eating, Astin was the first to speak. “So, I’m going to take a wild guess and say that ‘laundry droid’ is not your official title? I doubt General Hux would be so fixated if you were really someone so insignificant.” He offered you a sympathetic smile, eyes questioning and brows raised in interest as he waited for your response.

“I’m an officer.” You paused before continuing, “Well, I was supposed to be. It’s a long story, but I insulted the General during my first day on the job and this,” you gestured to the case of files he’d brought, “is my punishment.”

“Oh, so you’re new to the ship then? That would explain why I’d never seen you before, such beauty is hard to forget.” He was flirting again. It made your face heat up, which you lowered so he wouldn’t be able to see how flustered you were by his compliment. You were confident in your looks, you knew you were beautiful, but compliments were rare in such a harsh work environment.

You decided to clarify your work history to avoid any misunderstandings. “No, I grew up in the Order, actually. I was a ‘trooper before this, I was offered the opportunity to work as an Officer because they recognized my dedication I guess.” You wouldn’t downplay your talent as a leader and fighter, but you didn’t want to appear overly cocky either. Astin acknowledged what you had said with a small hum. You continued to converse and joke with one another as you ate your meal.

--------------------

General Hux had just gotten out of a rather tense meeting with Commander Ren and a few high ranking officers when he decided to head to his personal lounge to take dinner. It was on this walk from the bridge to his lounge that he happened to wake past a certain Dining Hall B. And it was while passing this Dining Hall B that he happened to peer in and see a certain two individuals. And these certain two individuals happened to be flirting and laughing their heads off. And this scene happened to enrage Hux so greatly that he felt the need to intervene. He stormed into the dining hall, striking fear into the growing number of ‘troopers and officers grabbing food. Many of them saluted and acknowledged him with a ‘General’ or ‘Sir’, but he simply waved his hand to dismiss them and stormed toward his targets.

Neither of the two had noticed his approach, the disrespectful brat of an officer had her head thrown back in laughter when Hux stopped at the end of the table, glaring down at them. His assistant was the first to notice him, and he quickly stood, saluted, and addressed him. Hux was in no mood for bootlicking. “Sit down,” he spat, now gaining the attention of the girl as well. Your eyes did not betray you in your fear, your mouth, however, did. You were trying desperately to hold in your laughter, but it took several moments for you to get it under control while Hux stared coldly into your soul.

“General Hux, is anything wrong, sir?” you managed to squeak out, fiddling with the napkin you held in your hand.

Hux huffed before letting a twisted sneer grace his lips. He was already suspicious of his assistant’s due to the previous night's occurrences and he was not about to let him get away with fraternizing with you so publicly. But he knew he could not only yell at the Lieutenant or it would seem as though he was letting you off easy. Not that he wanted to only punish his assistant, of course.

“‘Is anything wrong, sir?’” He started in a mocking tone. “You can’t possibly think that you’re so important that I would willingly speak to you if there wasn’t something wrong. I do believe you are still mid-work cycle. No. I know for a fact that you are. Seeing as your plates are empty I wonder how you could possibly find it appropriate to spend your work time conversing casually.” He glared down at the pair, hoping that one would have the gall to talk back.

His assistant apparently did. “Stop pretending this is about productivity, Sir, you just want to embarrass her more on top of your unfair punishm-” He was cut off by a slap in arm and a hiss of something to the effect of ‘Shut up or you’re going to get both of us killed!’.

“War is not ‘fair’ Lieutenant, so I suggest you get back to work. One more offence and you will be removed from your positions. Both of you. Now.” His tone and shaking fists made it clear it was not the time to try and argue. Lieutenant Trevino scampered off first, followed by the General after he shot you one last warning stare.

--------------------

The public humiliation had left you in a horrible mood. You carried the case of files to your quarters where you had stored the cart from the day before. You had barely even made a dent in those files and now you had a good number more to add to the cart. It only seemed natural to return to the same common area as the day before. It was the only place you could really get any work done, even if you had fallen asleep the day before.

After you had settled in to work through the files, it did not take long for your fatigue to catch up with you. You had made it through maybe ten files, inputting the information into a datapad and then placing the paper file in its appropriate folder. You decided to rest your eyes for a few moments, laying your head on your crossed arms and counting down ten seconds. You would just rest for ten seconds…

--------------------

General Hux didn’t care about you. He didn’t. Why would he care about you? All you had ever done was disrespect him, acted like a lazy foolish child. He had no reason to think about you unless it was about firing you or transferring you off of the Finalizer.

So why was he carrying a cup of coffee from the Officer’s Lounge to the same common area he had seen you working in the night before? ‘I just need to make sure she doesn’t fall asleep again. If she falls asleep I’ll never get my files back,’ was his excuse to himself. He entered the large open recreation area and was happy - No. Not happy. Relieved. - to see that not only were you working at the same table as before, but you were also asleep. That would make this operation much, much easier.

He approached the table and set the coffee by your head, but not so close that you would potentially knock it over when you woke up. He stared at your sleeping face. You were pretty like this, not making snide comments or glaring at him. But even so, the way you upheld and defended your pride even in front of him awoke something in him. Interest, recognition… lust. He turned away and moved quickly out of the room. He couldn’t let such stupid feelings interfere with his sense of duty.

--------------------

You woke up to the scent of coffee. Your mouth watered and you thought to yourself that maybe you should make a run to the Officer’s Lounge to grab some. You had not completed enough work to feel satisfied in yourself. It would be a long night. But as you lifted your head from your arms you noticed a cup that had not been there before. It was a cup of piping hot coffee.

“What in the world?” you muttered to yourself, examining the paper cup. You were a bit suspicious of the mystery cup of coffee. Who in the First Order would go out of their way to deliver a coffee when they could be sleeping or catching up on their own work? Oh! Maybe it was Astin. You smiled and took a sip of the hot drink. You would have to remember to thank him the next time you saw him.

Chapter Text

The past three days had been some of the most monotonous and boring of your life. The repetitive schedule of waking up before the work rotation, loading laundry until your lunch break, sometimes eating with Astin, and then working and napping in the common room was getting to you. Even your friends who were still troopers seemed to be having more fun than you; at least they got to go on missions. Your meetings with Astin were the highlights of each day, they gave you a short break to chat and laugh like normal. Your attraction to him grew each time you spoke; he was handsome, charming, funny, and respectful. What more could you ask for in a man? Even so, you knew your value, and would wait for him to ask you on a date first if he was interested (which he definitely was).

It was now the second to last day of your punishment. Just the thought of finally being able to take up your duties as an officer of the First Order kept you sane. You envisioned yourself in your clean, perfectly tailored (hopefully) uniform giving orders to troopers and assisting in battle planning.

But in order to finally start that life, you needed to finish the mountains of paperwork you still had left to file and organize for the General. Despite your love of the beautiful common area with its large windows and clean workspaces, you never seemed to be able to complete much work there. Every single night now, though it was always night in space, you woke up from your light slumber to a hot cup of coffee. You were convinced it was Astin leaving them, but every time you saw him you forgot to ask and thank him. Tonight, though, you would work in your room. You hoped working at your own desk would yield more productivity than the large conference table in the common room.

Situating yourself in the chair, you opened the app in your datapad that controlled the lights in your quarters. You had come to the conclusion that the dim lighting of the area you typically worked in was part of the reason you slipped unconscious so easily. You turned the lights in your room up to maximum brightness. The harsh white of the LEDs made your eyes - sensitive from sleep deprivation - sting and water a bit, but you knew it would be better to have a headache than fail to complete the work by tomorrow afternoon when the General expected it. If you did, you were sure he would either demote you back to a trooper or kick you out of the Order completely, and getting kicked out was not a risk you could take, you knew hardly anything of life outside of warships and First Order bases. With that thought in mind you settled in and began working through the cart of files.

--------------------

The day after your display of insolence in Hux’s office, he had filed an inquiry to the tailoring department to confirm that you had re-submitted your measurements and to ask how long it would take for the new uniform to be completed. The department head had replied to him nearly immediately given that he was the General, and affirmed that you had sent in an order for an officer’s uniform and that it would be ready to be delivered in three days time. Now it was three days later and Hux found himself at the tailoring department, picking up your new uniform. He could not understand what force drove him to give you such special treatment. He should hate you, he really should, and yet he found himself infatuated with you. His blood boiled any time he saw you with his obnoxiously slimy assistant; he had yet to find a legitimate reason to fire him and he would not let these strange feelings be the reason for him breaking First Order code.

He knew that by now you would be in the common area, probably asleep at the table. He had continued leaving the cups of coffee, always telling himself that it was just to boost your productivity and nothing else. Now, he navigated expertly through the ship to your dormitory. While he was certain you would not be present, he hoped that there would also be no one roaming the halls that would see him there. He did not want any rumors going around that would cause his underlings to potentially lose respect for him. His image was almost perfectly pristine and he would not have it tarnished any more by this stupid girl.

Turning the corner into the hall that your quarters were situated in, he would have preferred a random straggler on their way back from their post to what he saw instead. Lieutenant Trevino, again. This time he was standing outside of the door to your room. Hux stepped into the shadows of another room’s doorway to watch unnoticed. His assistant was holding a boxlike device up to the keypad next to your door. A masterkey. He must have stolen it from his office, Hux realized. There were only four people on the ship with access to masterkeys: Hux, Kylo Ren, and the two head engineers. Hux could not say for certain what his soon-to-be-former assistant’s intentions were, considering you would not be in your room, but they could not be good. General Hux had already been suspicious of Lieutenant Trevino after the incident on the first night in the common area, and this confirmed that he was up to something. Hux would not let that ‘something’ happen.

Stepping out from the shadows, he spoke. “And what exactly do you think you’re doing, Lieutenant Trevino?” Hux began to walk slowly and calculatedly towards the younger man.

Astin dropped the masterkey but stared daringly at General Hux. “I don’t think that concerns you, General. Why should you care what I’m planning, I thought you hated her.” The freakish, twisted grin now present on Lieutenant Trevino’s face disgusted even Hux.

Hux squared his shoulders and stretched his back to reach the fullest height he could. He was already a few inches taller than the other man, but he knew instinctively to make himself as large as possible as a means of intimidation. He moved in on the Lieutenant, whose smile had fallen and been replaced by a mix of confusion, anger, and fear.

“If you ever come near her again, I will not hesitate to kill you myself. I don’t know what sort of sick freak you are that you intended on harming an innocent officer, but you will not get away with this. The only reason I’m going to keep you as my assistant until I’m able to have you removed from this vessel is so that I can keep an eye on you.” Hux took another step forward towering over Astin and causing him to stumble backwards. “Now get out of my sight and start packing your belongings. There is no place in the First Order for scum such as yourself.”

Astin only nodded once, eyes wide, before tripping and walking as fast as he could out of the hallway, looking back every few steps in fear.

Hux stood for a moment, calming himself, before picking up the key and placing it in one of the pockets of his greatcoat. He realized that in his moment of rage he had clenched his fist so tightly that the neatly folded uniform was now crumpled and messy. Hux took a moment to straighten out the uniform before approaching the door to your quarters. He had not checked the common room but given his extensive knowledge of human nature and behavior, he was confident you were working there as he punched his override code into the keypad next to your door.

Perhaps he should not have been so confident. Hux’s mouth went dry as he took in the image revealed to him when the door slid open. You were at your desk, head tossed back and chest heaving. Your top was crumpled on the floor of the living area. Hux watched as one of your hands rocked in and out of your loose sweats, lewd noises filling the open air. The sweats were pushed down, exposing the thin straps of your thong. Your other hand was covering your mouth, muffling your soft moans and whimpers. Hux stood frozen in his spot in the doorway, unable to do anything but watch as you touched yourself, completely unaware of his presence. It was only when you emitted a needy moan followed by a strangled “Hux”, that he made his presence known as he choked on his own breath.

Your eyes shot open and widened in shock and fear as you realized Hux himself was standing in your doorway. Before you could speak or even move, Hux cleared his throat, averted his eyes, and speedily placed the uniform on the floor just inside the entryway. He then took a step back and out and pressed the ‘Close’ button on the keypad.

The air was hot and almost too heavy to breathe in as Hux rushed to his chambers. His uniform slacks were impossibly tight, his whole body on fire with lust and shame.

--------------------

Back in your quarters you found yourself flustered and completely out of the mood to continue with your fantasy. You had just hoped to relieve some stress from the work by means of masturbation when your mind had wandered to thoughts of the redheaded General. You were imagining him taking you bent over his desk when you had heard a sharp gasp. And there he was, with pupils blown wide, watching you.

You thought it was impossible to embarrass yourself in front of the man more than you already had, and yet what had just occurred proved you completely wrong. There was no recovering from this, he was definitely going to fire you now. Or maybe not. You stared at the crumpled uniform in the doorway. You had to consult one of your friends on this. Knowing that Jak and Nora would probably both try and downplay the situation, you clicked Sonia’s icon on your datapad and typed a short message.

Sonia I seriously fucked up this time

Her response was fast despite the late hour. You weren’t surprised though, you knew Sonia often stayed up late getting in extra training.

Oh no. What did you do now?

Shut up I know I haven’t been on the top of my game recently, no need to rub it in :(

Just tell me already

Ok so I was doing some work and decided to ‘relieve some stress’, if you know what I
mean. And I was getting into it and then FUCKING GENERAL HUX walked in on me.

I can’t tell if you’re joking. PLEASE tell me you’re joking.

I’m not…

Holy shit

That’s not even the worst part

Oh no

I fucking moaned his name. And I think he heard it.

WHAT this has to be a prank

It’s not i swear it’s not, WHAT DO I DO

I don’t fucking know, start packing your shit up?

I really am fucked aren’t I

Yeah I’d definitely say so, yes. I mean how are you supposed to show your face around
him after that?

I DON’T KNOW?? I guess this is goodbye :’( tell Nora and Jack i love them

Don’t be so fucking dramatic, he might end up being too embarrassed to bring it up

You think?

Yeah, it’s possible, I highly doubt he’s getting pussy often enough to not be embarrassed by his employee moaning his name. Either way, you should get some sleep, I’m going to bed.

Goodnight

Night.

You lifted yourself out of the chair stationed at your desk and trudged to the door of your refresher, removing your bra on the way. You were going to take a nice, long, hot shower and try to forget that the General saw you halfway off the deep end. At least you weren’t naked.

--------------------

Hux lay sprawled on his king sized bed, back resting on the headboard. His eyes were closed as he replayed the scene of you moaning his name while fucking yourself over and over in his mind. He slowly spread the precum beading at the tip of his cock down his shaft and stroked himself lightly. His breathing was already shaky and uneven. He pumped his hard erection while imagining it was you there touching him.

You sat between his legs in just a bra and panties, hair mussed up, and looking at him with dark lustful eyes. You slowly lowered yourself until you were resting on your elbows, ass in the air. One hand gently stroked his inner thigh back and forth while the other lazily palmed his cock.

The General let out a deep moan as he imagined you lowering your lips to him, licking a stripe up the underside of his shaft. You licked around the head before taking it in your mouth. You sucked in your cheeks and flattened your tongue against him as you began to bob your head up and down, taking more and more of his length each time you went back down. Your low moans vibrated along the sensitive skin of his cock, caused him to shiver and let out heavy, deep moans of his own. You moved your hand from his lower abdomen to the base of his dick, where you had not yet allowed your pretty little lips to reach. Your small fist pumped him while you continued to suck the rest of him off. You moved at a torturously leisurely pace and slowly raised your eyes to meet his. You flashed him a deceivingly innocent stare, breaking what remained of his self control and patience.

Hux removed your hand from the base of his cock before grabbing a hold of your hair and forcing you to take his full length down your throat. You were gagging, saliva mixing with his precum and dripping down his shaft. He snapped his hips up to meet your lips, forcing you up and down at an ever quickening pace. You offered him a needy moan and traced his sack with the tips of your nails, sending him over the edge.

He let out a low guttural moan as he fucked up into his palm, spilling his seed all over his chest. He continued to slowly fist up and down his shaft slowly as he rode out his own orgasm.

When his clarity of mind returned to him, he found himself humiliated by his thoughts of you. He lifted himself from the sweaty sheets and walked over the cold black granite floor to his large refresher. He walked to the shower and turned the water to the coldest setting. He did not have time to be letting such personal emotions take control of his actions.

Chapter Text

Sleep did not come easily to you that night. It was only after an hour-long scalding hot shower, as much exercise as one could get in a tiny dorm room, and another hour of overthinking, that you were finally able to fall asleep. Even after finally passing out from pure exhaustion, you slept fitfully, waking up every couple of hours before drifting back off a few minutes later. Your dreams were vivid and somehow all ended with you being embarrassed in some manner. The worst of these dreams was one in which you found out you were meant to give a speech to the entire staff of the Finalizer only a few minutes before you were scheduled to speak. When you went up to the platform, they began projecting plans for a ship that you had never seen before, expecting you to explain it. After several minutes of silence and failed attempts at analyzing the documents, the General told you to leave the platform and took your place. You might have cried from the humiliation if you hadn’t woken up just as you walked down the stairs of the stage.

It was because of this poor rest that you woke up with a pounding headache and a thickness in your throat combined with a tumultuous stomach that had you dragging yourself sluggishly to the refresher to vomit. After throwing up what little contents your stomach contained, most of which was throat burning acid, you slowly lifted yourself from the floor to the shower. Despite having taken such a long shower the previous night, the first-thing-in-the-morning barfing warranted at least a quick rinse off. You kept your sleep clothes, a t-shirt and sweats, on as the water poured down. At this point you really couldn’t care less. Your persistent headache was making it impossible to do anything more than the bare minimum. The med ward should be able to provide you with some energy supplements and pain relievers to help out, you would visit after getting dressed.

At some point you lost consciousness on the tile floor of the shower, because you woke up with pruned fingers and toes, the water still beating down on you. The extra nap had helped lessen your headache a tiny bit, but you would still take a trip to Medical if you even had the time. Thinking about it made you realize you had no idea what time it was. Working for the First Order, timing was crucially important. Sleep in and you could miss the whole ship evacuating.

You lifted yourself off of the tiles, sweats falling down your hips from the added weight of the tiles, and shut off the heavy spray. The water pressure on the ship was phenomenal, which turned out to be helpful for more than just scrubbing off blood and dirt. You peeled off your soaking top as you padded from the shower to your desk where your datapad rested.

The display screen lit up as soon as your hand touched the glass surface. This typically indicated that there was a missed notification, this time it was a message. A message from General Hux. The same General Hux that had walked in on you mast-- No, you were not going to think about it. You tapped the notification icon to open the messaging system. You felt like you were on the verge of puking again as the message loaded.

Officer ATR-10, your presence is required in Conference Room 1 at 14:00 for a confidential mission pre-briefing. Please arrive on time. All other duties for the day are excused.

You let out an instant sigh of relief. It was an automated message. Your relief quickly dissipated when you realized that this meant you would have to see the General in person. How were you supposed to pay attention or look him in the eyes now that he had seen you in such an intimate position. Just the thought of it returned the sickness to your stomach, reminding you that a trip to the infirmary was in order. You checked the time, not at all stressed now that you were excused from all other work for the day. It was only 9:00, plenty of time to visit the nurse, build up an appetite for lunch, and think about how you were going to face the one person you wanted to avoid at all costs. You’d rather run right into Kylo Ren at the moment.

Walking to the doorway of your room, you finally picked up the crumpled uniform. It was wrinkled from having been strewn on the floor all night, but you didn’t feel like calling for a cleaning droid to iron it. You pulled it on, zipping up the pants, buttoning the shirt and placing the cap on the top of your head. Perhaps the tailoring department felt bad for their mistake because this time the uniform fit perfectly, like a glove. You admired yourself in the mirror for a moment before grabbing your things and heading to the Medical Ward.

Because of the ship’s massive size, there were numerous Nurse’s Stations throughout for minor ailments. Normally, you would visit one of these smaller clinics, but this headache would require painkillers stronger than the standard pills available at such places. It was a long trek to the med ward from your quarters. The large hospital was situated on the main hangar level, nearest to the one that housed Commander Ren’s personal ship. The training rooms were located on the floors just above and below the med ward. Like everything else about the ship, this was a strategic placement to minimize losses. You had visited the ward only a few times in the past. First had been to have a birth control chip implanted into your arm, and the two others had been for treatment of blaster shot wounds.

You approached the main entrance of the med ward, fishing your ID out of your bag to temporarily deactivate the laser shield which prevented enemy fighters from entering in the event of an invasion. You scanned your badge and walked up to the receptionist’s desk.

The desk was manned by droids to maximize efficiency in the flow of patients in and out of the hospital. As soon as you reached the counter, one of the droids pointed its “eyes” at you and began asking routine questions.

“Identification number?” It ordered the response from you more than it asked. Such droids were not equipped with specialized vocal programming, leaving them with robotic voices incapable of expressing emotion.

“ATR-10” you responded, being sure to enunciate each syllable clearly. While rare, a droid would occasionally transcribe a response improperly, leading to loads of unnecessary confusion and paperwork.

“Reason for visit?” it stared blankly as it waited for your response.

Best to keep things concise, you simply replied with “Severe headache.”

“A doctor will be with you soon, please take a seat while you wait.” It gestured to the seats which lined the walls of the office.

As you took your seat, you observed your surroundings. There were a few others present: a pair of stormtroopers that most likely injured themselves while sparring, a male officer who you assumed had some sort of food poisoning given his nearly-green, sweaty skin, and a young female lieutenant whose ailment you could not tell simply from looking. Unlike much of the ship, the entire med ward was white. The walls, floors, beds, dividers, everything other than the sterile metal tables and instruments. This was for a number of reasons, primarily that it made cleaning easier since no spot could be missed, and that white reflected the light from the ceiling fixtures, allowing wounds to be examined in maximum clarity and brightness.

It only took a few minutes for a middle-aged woman in a doctor's coat to step through the glass sliding doors behind the desk and call out your ID number. She gestured for you to follow her to an exam room, repeating the droids same questions as she led you through the halls.

Once you arrived in her office, she followed the standard procedure of checking your height, weight, and vitals, before asking some more questions related to your headache.

“Have you consumed any alcohol or other prohibited substances?” She asked. Even if you had, the look in her eyes told you not to lie.

“No, I haven’t,” you answered honestly. You knew that the issue was just a lack of proper sleep, but you would wait for her to ask.

Luckily, that was her next question. “Have you been getting enough sleep?” she asked while typing notes into her datapad.

“No, I’m pretty sure that’s the cause of the headache. I haven’t gotten a good night's sleep in a week.” You had your head propped up on your hand to lessen the throbbing.

“Hmm. Do you have difficulty falling asleep or staying asleep?”

“No, I’ve just been assigned a lot of extra work this week so I wasn’t able to sleep enough.” You just wanted to get your prescription and go rest a bit longer.

“Ah, I see, I’m just going to confirm with the superior who assigned the work before I prescribe anything. Can I have their name?” She looked at you expectantly, now holding her comm-link waiting to make the call.

You sat stunned for a moment. What if she didn’t believe you? And if she did make the call, it would only add to your embarrassment in front of the General later. But you knew you had to answer, it was protocol after all. “Hux. I mean General… General Hux,” you managed to blurt out.

She stared at you dumbfounded before nodding and punching in the code for the General.

“Hello?” His voice crackled through the device. It was clear he was bothered to be receiving a call unexpectedly.

“Good morning, General. I’m calling from the Medical Ward, I have one of your subordinates here with a headache. She said she hasn’t been getting enough sleep due to extra work being assigned to her. I just need you to confirm for me that this is the case,” her tone was both professional and sweet. It clearly was not her first time dealing with him.

First, he snorted, then, annoyance clear in his tone as he responded, “It’s hardly uncommon, did you really have to bother me with such a call? What’s their ID number?”.

“ATR-10, sir.”

A moment of silence and then, “Ah. Yes. That would be true. Prescribe whatever is appropriate.” Then the line fell dead.

The doctor looked at you concernedly but printed out a prescription for painkillers and handed it to you, directing you to have it filled at the front desk.

After taking the prescribed pills, you decided to grab a bite to eat from the nearby dining hall. It was harmful to take medication on an empty stomach, even if you weren’t very hungry. You grabbed a few plain vitamin enriched rolls and brought them back to your room to eat. They were bland, but easy to keep down despite still feeling slightly nauseous.

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13:00. You had taken a nap after eating and woke up feeling wholly refreshed. It only took about ten minutes to get from your quarters to the bridge, but you knew it was imperative that you looked polished and professional for your first assignment as an officer. That was why you gave yourself plenty of extra time to get ready.

Covering your hair with a shower cap, you stepped into the refresher for a quick rinse to rid your body of the sweat which had built up on your skin while you were ill. The cool droplets of water running across your naked skin were infinitely refreshing, clearing the redness from your eyes and relaxing your muscles. You stayed there, resting your head against the front wall of the stall, for about fifteen minutes.

It was still only 13:40 when you finished getting ready, but you decided it was better to arrive early than on time. As you walked through the winding corridors and elevators of the Finalizer, you tried not to think too much about seeing the General. It was impossible to avoid, anyway. And at least this meant you weren’t fired. Sonia must have been right, he probably was too embarrassed to direct any punishment at you for it. Discharging or transferring you would require him to file paperwork explaining the reason for such an action, and General Hux was far too loyal to the Order to lie even over such trivial matters.

You arrived at the conference room and took your seat once inside. Unsurprisingly, it seemed that most everyone had made the same decision to arrive early rather than on time or risking lateness. It was quite a small group. The General was there, of course, along with a few other officers whom you had seen around the ship and worked under as a stormtrooper. Supreme Leader Ren stood silently in one of the corners. It was unlikely he himself would take part in a mission with such a small company.

As the final officers arrived and took their places, the meeting began. The mission was a crude one. The General projected a holo-image of the planet Kessel, and explained that the party was to exterminate the workers and civilians of a small mining town which was supplying Coaxium to the rebellion.

It did not go unnoticed that as the General spoke, his eyes were glued to you. You were hardly able to pay attention as you watched his eyes roam up and down your body, only occasionally flickering back to the projected presentation. You felt your cheeks grow hot at his attention, you thought back to the previous night. Was he remembering the image of your exposed body? General Hux’s final words cut through your thoughts.

“I advise all of you to return to your quarters early tonight. You must pack for the mission and rest properly. The First Order will not be slowed down by dispensable members who fail to prepare properly for missions. You are dismissed.”

You grabbed your bag and mission briefing files, organizing yourself before standing up. Just before you turned to leave, the General caught your eyes with his. You stared at each other for a moment before he deliberately and hungrily allowed his eyes to move up and down your figure, at last returning to your face and smirking. You turned on your heel and speedily returned to your quarters.

Chapter Text

The hangar buzzed with bootfalls and tense conversation as the party prepared to leave. A squad of ten troopers had been assigned to each officer, including you. As you entered the massive warehouse you wondered if you knew any of those under your command. It was unlikely given that there were thousands. Stormtroopers were viewed as more or less disposable by those higher in the ranks, but you knew better. Every single one was a human under that helmet and you were not about to let any of them die while you were in charge.

An assistant technician scurried over and handed you a blaster and a small rucksack of gear and first aid. You added the pack to your bag of extra clothes. If all went well, these would be unnecessary, but on the off chance that the company ended up stranded, it was important to stay as clean and warm as possible. Once, on one of your earliest missions, your squadron was separated from the main party after being ambushed. After a week of heavy rainfall and failed attempts at contacting the Order, your group stumbled upon an abandoned speeder. Luckily, the ship’s radio was still intact and you were able to connect it to a comm-link device, effectively expanding the transmission range enough to contact the main ship. By the time you were rescued, half of the squad were suffering from severe cases of trench foot, one even needing amputation. Since then, you always packed an excessive number of socks for each mission. Even if others believed you were being overly careful, you knew that protecting your feet was essential to survival.

A pre-recording of a woman’s voice rang out over the loudspeaker like the winnings announcements in a casino. “All personnel are responsible for assessing the condition of their blaster before mission departure. If your weapon appears to be damaged or dysfunctional, please report it to a member of the technical staff.” Such recordings were typical for non high profile missions. It was easier and more effective than having the party leader in charge of checking equipment. On major assignments, however, the weapons were carefully screened and tested by the ship’s weapon technicians the day before departure.

As you tested each of the functions and components of your blaster, you looked up into the cockpit of the ship. General Hux was there, presumably working with the pilots to code in the exact landing spot on Kessel that would allow you all to stay hidden until you wanted to be seen. Your thoughts momentarily wandered to the previous day’s meeting. The way his eyes had skimmed your body, drinking it in like a desert oasis. You quickly regained control of yourself. Now was not a time to be having such thoughts, you were about to embark on a potentially deadly mission.

From the corner of your eye you caught sight of Astin. He was carrying the General’s personal blaster, presumably checking that all was in working order. General Hux’s blaster was easily distinguished from the standard issue. The grip, which had intricate silver detailing, was specially molded to his hand. This special grip made the blaster heavier than those used by other personnel, but you had heard that the General preferred it that way. Additionally, his blaster had no stun setting; General Hux shot to kill.

As you considered his blaster, the man himself emerged from the ship and walked with purpose down the ramp with purpose, stopping just before he reached the shiny black granite of the hangar floor. Astin hurried over and handed him his blaster, assuring him that it had been properly tested. The General’s descent had grabbed the attention of the party, all of you now waiting for his command. He nodded once, signalling that it was time. The company filed onto the ship in an orderly fashion, officers settling in an extended seating area behind the cockpit, and troopers on the long benches by the ramp opening. This was to protect the “more important” personnel were you to be ambushed upon landing. Naturally, having once been a trooper yourself, you opted to sit on one of the benches with them, on the edge closest to the other officers. It allowed you a clear view of both the exit and the large transparisteel windows of the cockpit. You watched the ramp retract and the door slowly shut. Astin stood in view of the closing doors with the rest of the technicians, and offered him a small wave and smile before the ramp shut completely. He returned your sentiment with a wink and a cheeky grin.

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Unbeknownst to you, General Hux had observed this exchange, staring in disgust at his assistant. He had told this younger man to stay away from you, and clearly he had not heeded that warning. Hux’s blood boiled, he glared at his assistant through the nearly shut ramp, the threat clear in his eyes. He would find a way to get rid of him when he returned from this mission.

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You gripped the edge of your seat as the thrusters softened the ship’s landing, the whole vessel shaking slightly from the decrease in speed. It should have been a fairly quick flight, Kessel was just a few parsecs away from where the Finalizer was hidden. What made it excruciatingly long was the General’s decision to sit directly across from you on the benches in the entry passage. ‘Why was he sitting with the stormtroopers? Why isn’t he monitoring the pilots? Is he sitting here on purpose? Won’t the others notice? Why me?,’ All questions that ran through your head as you stared pointedly at the metal floor beneath your feet. You spent the entire flight acting as if the grooved surface was the most fascinating thing you had ever laid eyes on. Even without looking, you could feel his eyes on you and all over you.

The ship finally ceased its rumbling and shaking, followed by the energy in the room immediately thickening. The General stood and gestured towards the two troopers closest to the ramp. They nodded and stood, waiting as the ramp lowered to the planet’s grey surface. The two lifted their blasters in unison, set to kill, and marched down the ramp. You watched from within the ship as the troopers disappeared, surveying the area surrounding the landing site. From what you could see, it appeared to be a mountain crevice. You were surrounded on all sides by dusty, sharp, grey and black rock. The steel exterior of the ship blended in well with the scenery.

The troopers returned a few minutes later.

“All clear,” one of them said, nodding to the General.

Finally, General Hux spoke. “Very good, we leave now to reach the village by nightfall. We will use the cover of darkness as our weapon. Stay silent and aware at all times. I will lead; should any of you fall behind, you will be left behind.” He looked around the room for confirmation that he was understood.

The two stormtroopers that had just scouted the area flanked the General on either side as he exited the ship. You strode down the ramp, following the formation of officers and troopers. Your squadron followed closely behind you, protecting you back and sides and the front of the officer behind.

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Sounds of gunfire erupted all around you. This was not how it was supposed to happen. You were being ambushed, you knew that. But by whom, you could not say. Your squad hadn’t even made it to your assigned position before the first shots were fired. Now, the whole town was burning. The huts of mud and stick had quickly gone up in flames from the blasters’ plasma shots. You choked on the air around you, shooting at anyone or anything that looked like it didn’t belong to your party. Your lungs burned and muscles screamed from oxygen as you moved through the huts. You needed to find the General, he was supposed to be stationed at the village’s entrance, leading the company. Your eyes burned from the smoke, tears forming on your lower lash line and blurring your vision further.

You caught sight of a shock of red hair and tried in vain to rub the soot from your eyes. Your vision cleared just enough to realize what was happening in front of you. General Hux desperately shook his blaster, trying to shoot at the unknown attackers but failing. His blaster was jammed… and a rebel had just caught sight of him. You tried to scream out to warn him, but your voice was useless and ragged from the smoke. The rebel lifted their gun, aiming straight for the General, and moved their finger to the trigger. Unconsciously, your body sprung into action despite your now crushing headache and aching muscles. You continued shooting at the ambushers in a blind fit of rage and fear. It was only the rush of adrenaline powering you now, numbing your body and mind as you jumped in front of General Hux.

You doubled over in pain, clutching your stomach before going numb once again. General Hux grabbed your blaster and shot the rebel straight through the heart before he could fire another round. You stared down at your stomach and hands. Blood coated everything, thick and red and gushing from your wound. It covered the thick leather gloves you wore to protect your hands, slipping through your finger and trickling onto the dirt where you lay. You couldn’t feel anything at all. It was as if you were watching yourself bleed out through a stranger's eyes rather than your own. Maybe it was all a hallucination, but the last thing you saw as your vision blurred in and out of focus was the General above you. He was yelling something that you could not hear and pointing at your wound. And his eyes. They almost looked… afraid.

Chapter Text

It was the sound of an aggressive verbal exchange that woke you from your state of unconsciousness. As your mind drug itself from the muck, you caught short snippets of the argument taking place somewhere nearby, not that you knew where exactly you were. Their voices were hushed but sharp, snaking in and out of your hearing range.

“...if she doesn’t wake up…” The first voice was familiar, but you were far too tired and in pain to identify it. It was a man, and he seemed angry.

“Sir, that’s not how it works…” You didn’t recognize the second voice at all. A man’s again, but this one softer and laced with fear.

“... I swear… will hear about this…”

“... doing the best we can… no promises…”

You were finally able to force open your eyes, the brittle, cold air biting at them like an icy wind. As you blinked away tears, you found yourself staring up at a plain white ceiling. A machine of some sort was beeping insistently next to you. You tried to lift your hands to wipe away the layer of crust that had developed around your eyes but found that you were unable to, they lay leadlike and numb at your sides.

Your first attempt at raising your head to look around failed miserably. As soon as you tried to lift your head and shoulders from where they lay, a sharp pain shot from your abdomen and dispersed through your whole body. You let out a sharp yelp and relaxed back into the bed. The voices in the hall went silent for a moment, then the man with the softer voice told the angry one to wait there.

You heard a door open and footsteps approaching you. A man in a nurse’s uniform appeared above you, switching between looking at you and what you could only assume was a monitor displaying your vitals. You realized then that you must be in the Finalizer’s hospital, probably the ICU considering what little you could remember from before you blacked out. You knew you had been shot, but everything after that was fuzzy, blanketed by a thick haze that you were unable to see through.

“Finally awake, huh?” The nurse was looking down at you now. “We were getting pretty worried. Well, someone was getting pretty worried.” He raised an eyebrow and gestured towards the hallway.

It took you a moment to gain control of your voice. Once you did, you weren’t even sure what you wanted to say. You decided to start with the basics. “We’re on the Finalizer, right?” You were already pretty certain of this, but you needed to make sure before you let yourself relax.

“Yes, you’re in the infirmary.” The nurse let out a small huff of air and smiled. “And yes, before you ask, you are alive.”

“How long have I been asleep?” You dreaded his response to this one. What if it had been months? What if your body had lay on this cot deteriorating for weeks on end? You didn’t want to know, but you had to.

“A week today. And now that you’ve woken up, we’ll be able to transfer you to your dorm for the remainder of your recovery. After the doctor has checked that you’re alright, of course.” You felt the nurse place his hand on your shoulder in a gesture of comfort.

“Sorry if I already asked, but what’s your name?” You wanted to properly thank the man who you assumed had been taking care of you in the time you had spent shut out from the rest of the galaxy.

“My name is Feruzi, but there is no need to thank me. In fact, I should be thanking you instead.” An expression of amusement found its way onto his face as he said so.

You thought hard. What could you have done that would inspire thanks? Had you done something before blacking out that you could no longer remember?

As if the man had read your mind, he let out a hearty laugh and explained himself. Apparently, in the week that you were asleep, General Hux managed to replace nearly the entire staff on the bridge. The slightest mistake led to him exploding in anger and punishing both those on the bridge and menial workers like the kitchen crew and his personal attendants.

“Sounds about right,” you managed an airy laugh before wincing from the pain.ou were both surprised and completely unsurprised by the General’s actions. He was known for his volatile attitude and unforgiving nature, and was the reason many First Order personnel feared assignment to his ship. But what did you have to do with it? It wasn’t as though he had taken a liking to you, in fact, it was quite the opposite. He hated your work ethic and loathed your relationship with Astin, he had no reason to show concern for you or allow your injury to affect his mood. Then again, there was the way he had looked at you during the briefing, and that day he brought you your uniform. You weren’t oblivious enough to not know that droids could have done such a simple task as delivering a uniform, they had done so in all instances prior. But he certainly didn’t care for you, he didn’t care for anyone it seemed.

Feruzi injected a vial of vitamins into your IV before informing you that he needed to alert General Hux of your revival and gliding out of the room.

Not a moment later, the man himself burst through the door, nearly taking it off of its hinges. He stomped to the foot of the bed, fists clenched at his sides and shaking slightly. Immediately he pounced on you with his words, berating you for jumping in front of the blaster shot.

“Do you realize how imbecilic that was? Do you think the First Order would send me on a mission without blastproof armor? But no, you just had to play the hero, didn’t you? Didn’t you?” He roared the last question at you, flecks of spit flying from his lips with every harsh syllable. It was rhetorical, of course, and he barely took a moment of pause before continuing on with his lecture, “Did you expect to be praised for doing something so utterly useless. The First Order doesn’t send reserves on missions for a reason, we expect that our officers are smart enough to not sacrifice their lives so easily.” The General stared with an icy glare, pupils contracted and quivering slightly from rage. This time he stayed quiet, the silence thick and palpable.

You took his silence as an opportunity to rebut, but as soon as you opened your mouth to speak he cut you off.

“You could have compromised the entire mission. Explain yourself.” The extended silence must have been him trying to get his rage under control because these words were spoken levelly, both a threat and an order.

Where the General’s emotions brought themselves into check, yours bubbled up and threatened to explode. Anger, relief, frustration, and fear all vying for the control of your mind and mouth. What did he want you to say? ‘Sorry for trying to save your life, next time I’ll just let the shot hit you’? Or you could play it safe with an ‘I made a mistake, it won’t happen again.’ No matter what you decided on he probably wouldn’t accept it, he had to have the last word and you knew it.

Unable to choose, you simply went with, “But we won, didn’t we?”. As soon as the words left your mouth you wished you could shove them back in. They were probably worse than flat out arguing, now he’d think you were brushing off the severity of the situation.

“Right. We won, so it’s all fine then.” His face morphed into a sneer as he returned your words in a painfully sarcastic manner. He shot you one last glare and turned to leave the room.

“That’s not what I mea-” you tried to sit up and reach out to him but were cut off by your own yelp of pain. It was no use, he was already shutting the door behind him. As you relaxed back into the mattress, you heard him tell whoever was nearest the door, presumably Feruzi, to make sure you didn’t do anything stupid. You let out a snort of laughter. As if you could do anything in your current condition.