Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It’s easy for the Galaxy to forget that, with all his anger and antics, Kylo Ren is human.

He lived a normal life, once. As normal a life one could have, being Leia Organa’s Force sensitive son. It was more time as his own-ish entity than Snoke’s daughter ever had – plucked from Maker knew where in her infancy to be raised in Snoke’s image. 

That was her father’s mistake, her girlhood. The amount of time it took to raise a child forced him to get attached. Allowed him to see her more as a true daughter than he ever intended. Made him raise her as a diplomat rather than a weapon. Urged him to tolerate the way she tried to learn both sides of the Force and taught herself to walk the fine line between them.

Unfortunate.

The boy had been a second chance. Already skilled in the Force and aware of his lineage, he was easy to radicalize. But Ben was scared and Snoke demanded strength and was used to much tougher fortitudes. So he pushed young Solo to become someone else. Kylo Ren was intimidating, carefully broken, and wanted nothing more than to be lost in the Dark Side but continuously unable to cross the precipice.

Disappointing. 

Yes, despite his best efforts, the Supreme Leader’s strongest pupils were his biggest failures. If his apprentice’s desire to fully embrace the Dark could meld with his heir’s ability to do so, and vice versa, then they would be perfect. The hunt for Luke Skywalker may just be the needed catalyst to make it happen.

It doesn’t cross the old alien’s mind that he could be wrong about all of it.

Chapter Text

It had been something else, spending time in the Mid Rim with only a handful of strangers, a few droids, and her own thoughts to keep her company. Andromia was mostly sure her seclusion wasn’t meant to be a true punishment – the remote tropical planet which she’d been sent to was luxurious in it’s own way, and safe from the prying eyes of the New Republic, the Rebellion, and the First Order all together – but the longer her stay dragged on, the more she felt like a grounded child. So when the young woman was finally aboard the Finalizer, she was thrilled. A little cautious, but thrilled.

“I can actually feel you.” Ren told her once they were in her chambers. A proper welcoming party had been assembled upon her arrival, complete with Hux, Phasma, and Andromia’s personal quartet of red-clad Stormtroopers. But it was easily agreed upon that the hunt for Lor San Tekka was more important than their rendezvous, and after some brief greetings that included plenty of deferential terms like ‘Madam Proxy’ and ‘Lady Malanth’ – and (what Kylo found to be) the strange, strange way that Hux’s usual severity always seemed to minusculely blunt in the presence of Snoke’s heir apparent – the General and Captain were excused to their duties. Leaving Kylo as the one to show her to her quarters. She knew where they were, it was far from her first time on this ship, but her presence was the equivalent of having the Supreme Leader on board and not even Kylo Ren was going to forgo protocol and etiquette in such a circumstance. At least not until they were alone.

In his near six years training under Snoke and getting relatively acquainted with the Supreme Leader’s successor, Kylo had learned one glaring truth: Andromia Malanth was not her father. She was far less intense than he was, and exuded a type of gracious friendliness that was rare within the First Order. And yet, even as they lounged in her sitting room, on opposite ends of the chaise, he couldn’t manage to fully relax. 

He was too keyed up about finding Skywalker, and even though this was not the first time they’d been semi-casual around one another, it still felt rather awkward to interact with her away from her father. So much so that he could only think to mention the one thing that tied them together besides his Master – the Force. 

“I would hope you usually can.” She mused, gaze wandering to the closed bedroom door as her protocol droid could be heard toddling around in the other room.

Kylo rolled his eyes, forgetting that his helmet was perched on his knee, and not on his face at her request, leaving the action visible. “You know what I mean. I can tell you’re happy to be on board.”  

His words made her smile, and a bit more of that warmth and friendliness bled off of her Force signature. The feel of it made him exhale slowly through his nose. It wasn’t a strong sensation per se, but it was by far the most vigorous thing he’d ever sensed from her. Oftentimes she was nothing more than a tepid, barely-there neutrality tucked against Snoke’s own overbearing presence. Even the times they’d been on Starkiller together she very much presented the same way. 

For her to be more than that was strange, and Kylo was curious by nature; finding her palpable shift interesting if not mildly concerning.

“Yes, I am. For several reasons.” She would not answer the questions he refused to ask and changed the topic completely. “I trust you know why I’m here.”

Whatever gentle mood her own disposition may have put him in immediately soured. “To monitor my progress.” It came out gruffer than he meant it to be, and he wilted against the back of the couch – habitually shrinking himself as he often did within the confines of the Supremacy’s throne room. The Supreme Leader had already told him that she’d be observing how he handled this final leg in the search for Skywalker. Her bringing it up only reinforced the idea that Snoke didn’t think him ready. 

“It will be like Starkiller, except this time I care more about how you do than General Hux, that’s all.”

Ren’s upper lip drew up in a sneer. “Hux is-”

“A valuable asset to our cause.” He turned toward her, examined her freshly neutral expression – schooled and blank as he often found it to be – and, while he tried to read what wasn’t there, realized her presence in the Force had receded back to its familiar uninformative penumbrance. “As are you. As am I. As is everyone within the First Order. The Supreme Leader does not tolerate dead weight, you’d do well to remember that.”

“Yes.” He swallowed, not enjoying the sudden shift away from what small familiarity they had. “Of course.”

“Good.” She leaned back further into the comfortable cushions and regarded him fully before gesturing toward the door. “Go, do whatever needs to be done to prepare for Lor San Tekka.”

There wasn’t much he needed to do at all, but Kylo knew a dismissal when he heard one, and he quickly donned his helmet and made himself scarce. 

Newly alone, Andromia turned to look over the back of the couch and saw the streaks of stars shining through the viewport as they traveled through hyperspace. They weren’t extremely far from Jakku when she’d boarded and she couldn’t imagine it would take them long to arrive. 

She let herself get lost in the visual expanse of space while dwelling on her father’s words. Her orders were to mainly observe and interact, and advise sparingly but not to interfere. It was imperative to see how Kylo Ren would operate during this mission while away from his Master and his Knights. 

Following those guidelines should be easy enough, she knew. Though not everything they’d discussed on the holocall during her shuttle ride to the Finalizer had been about her current posting as Kylo Ren’s babysitter.

“I have faith that you will not fall victim to any further indiscretions.” The green, choppy rendering of Snoke had said, and she didn’t require further explanation. He would not tolerate it should the need to send her away arise a second time. 

And she would make sure it wouldn’t come to that again, but she would also refuse to give up her freedoms until he demanded otherwise. 

Chapter Text

They were in hyperspace for a while before Hux sought solitude in his quarters.

Not that he wanted to rest, regardless if it was the smart thing to do. There was always something else that could be done. Reports to read. Intelligence to reexamine. Or even the seemingly mundane parts of the day that he could analyze and pick apart. A man like him didn’t get to where he was in life by simply looking at things once. It took scrutiny from a whole slew of different angles.

The biggest thing weighing on his mind though, other than the acquisition of the map, was their guest. These were not the usual circumstances which led to a visit from Lady Malanth. She was Snoke’s eyes and ears, surely – a tangible reminder of his influence across the galaxy. But something just didn’t feel right.

On Starkiller she’d served as a sort of impartial party. Andromia had the ability to be completely and utterly unbiased where it counted. That is, she had no fear of the Supreme Leader and held no desire, or need, to have the General’s position to herself. So when she’d been sent to inspect the weapon during the multiple stages of its development, Snoke knew he’d get the transparent truth.

She would not downplay Hux’s achievements so as to make him seem unjustly incompetent nor would she give his achievements more praise than they were worth, no matter what. They all knew that’s why she’d been sent rather than the General himself being summoned for updates.

Hux, like the Proxy herself, wanted nothing other than the First Order’s success. That was true. However, he was only human, and looked for every chance to impress, as was to be expected. She stood at the near pinnacle of power though – always had, since Snoke’s ascension – which granted her the rare opportunity to be overwhelmingly detached from her adopted father’s praise and recognition. 

Andromia didn’t need to contend for the Supreme Leader’s favor. She only had to advise him on her educated assessment, and the facts. Besides, when it came down to it, her opinions were the only ones that the old alien considered wholly relevant.

But then it happened. Hux was no fool. Despite all of the woman’s reassurances, he knew how something so unintentionally binding could call her objectivity into question. How it could put his whole project at risk. No doubt his very life, if Snoke thought it offensive enough. Though it was never the threat of death that worried him. He was in the military for fuck’s sake. Rather, he was sickened by the thought of dying before he could accomplish everything he desired.

Maybe that’s why she was there. To prove herself in some roundabout way. Ren was always talking about how the Supreme Leader tested his adherents.

Then again, what if this wasn’t Snoke evaluating her, but evaluating him? To see if he’d established Starkiller Base enough for it to operate without the presence of its key leaders? To make sure that his time developing such an advanced weapon had not compromised his skill in more militant stratagem.

The more he thought about it, the further down the rabbit hole he fell. Hux knew there was no time for such blind speculation, and he also knew there was no time to dissect each possibility in its entirety. At least not now.

So it was with an exasperated sigh that he sunk down into an armchair when he finally reached his rooms. He needed to give his mind a break. They’d arrive at Jakku in a few hours and he needed to be sharp – prepared for whatever they may, or may not find there. After all, he was not the hopefull sort.

His quarters were just a few degrees warmer than the rest of the ship. Enough to allow him the comfort he desired and was fitting of a man of his position, but not enough so as to ever be a point of controversy. It made the warmth of his clothes feel stifling, and he was quick to undo the stiff collar of his uniform jacket; unfastening the garment just to his clavicle though, and leaving the dress shirt underneath untouched.

The built up tension in his body began to release itself in stages, and no sooner had his shoulders given up their rigidity than the door to his refresher opened. The familiar whooshing sound had him leaping from the chair and reaching for the weapon still strapped on his hip. Absolutely no one should be in his chambers.

He should have calmed when he realized whose chest he had his blaster aimed at, yet he only found himself more agitated.

“What are you doing?” He demanded to know while returning his weapon to its rightful place, only to then remove his holster completely and set it on the side table. The intruder did not return his bitterness.

“Waiting for you to unwind.”

“Something that’s best accomplished by hiding in my bathroom, is it?” Hux had yet to wash the agitation from his voice, and he watched as Andromia abandoned her place in the ‘fresher doorway in favor of taking a few steps toward him.

“You’re spun tight when you work. I knew if I caught you too soon then I would never be able to pry you from that inflexible mold of propriety you find so comfortable. So I gave you a moment to breathe.” She had him there, they both knew it. Judging by the look on his face, he didn’t find it as amusing as she did.

After closing the distance between them, she regarded his frown with an internal sense of pity. Even with the direct weight of the First Order’s future of leadership on her shoulders, she still thought the General had it rough. He was pleased with everything he’d achieved within the order. Proud of himself, as he had the right to be. But she doubted that he’d ever been truly happy.

His posture only stiffened further when she undid the remaining closures on his blazer. Even if the action was quick and dispassionate, he was far from ready for it and was silently thankful when she finished quickly. One hand soon dropped back to her side while the other settled on his shoulder, exerting just the faintest bit of pressure. “Sit down, Armitage. Please.”

Despite the feeling in her voice, he was still reluctant. His movements were far from fluid as he slowly sunk into the chair – bracing his hands on the armrest as if to slow his descent even further before finally settling and allowing his forearms to fully rest against the plush upholstery. It was all punctuated by his right leg crossing over his left.

The whole display had her sighing and shaking her head, and Hux had to turn his own so that he could watch as she rounded the back of the chair to stand behind him. If Andromia thought his posture couldn’t grow any more taut, she was wrong. That was exactly what had happened when both her hands fell to his shoulders and slid down. First, pausing to rest on his upper chest, and then beginning to open the buttons on his dress shirt. Starting with the one that held the crisp gray collar closed.

His back was no longer touching the chair, he was so tense, and his hands gripped the rounded edges of the arm rest. Still, he made no move to stop her and allowed his voice to broadcast his uneasiness when he faced forward again.

“This is highly inappropriate.” Andromia couldn’t fault him for the protest. He had reason enough to be concerned. Their familiarity had been an unintentional set-back once already.

Though she could hear in his tone how badly he wished such a thing could be irrelevant. So she carried on – taking her time to undo each button cautiously. He’d never let her hear the end of it if she snapped one off.

“You know, you could have just given me the cold shoulder since I arrived instead of pretending that you were pleased to see me.” Her smirk was audible and, rather than give in to her goading, he took a slow, steadying breath. “And if I wanted a lecture on conduct, I wouldn’t have left Teesee in my rooms.”

Having undone his shirt all the way down to the mid of his sternum left her leaning over him. Draping her arms over his chest in some sort of hybridized hug, she drew him back against the chair. He’d begun to relax beneath her attention whether he realized it or not.

The lowered position also brought her chin to rest on his shoulder, and she dropped the volume of her voice to better match their closeness. “You have nothing to worry about.” She told him quietly. “Not when it comes to this. To us.”

The General sighed heavily and let his eyes close. He tilted his head to the side and let it slightly rest against hers.

“You can’t possibly know that.”

“And yet, I do.” The soft tone did not make her sound any less sure of herself. 

Hux was forced to right his skull when she moved hers away, and she used the opportunity to place a promising kiss against his cheek. “If you are honestly that concerned about it, I’ll go. No bad blood between us.” He could both hear and feel her standing straight up again. Now that she was able to move his jacket and shirt aside, she began to rub the tenseness out of his nearly bare shoulders. The presence of his sleeveless undershirt didn’t matter enough to be a hindrance. “But we both know that if it were an issue, it would have been thoroughly addressed by now.”

Being overly acquainted with Snoke’s heir in any capacity certainly held risks, and Andromia’s allusion made his jaw clench. He wasn’t no idiot and was well aware of the potential consequences. Consequences that had never once been rained down upon him, but that concerned him all the same. At his distress, the woman’s hands curved to the front of his shoulders and pulled him back against the chair even more. As if she could press him through the furniture completely and hold him against her.

Hux allowed his eyes to open again and his head fell back completely so he could gaze upwards. Seeing her face helped bring him to a place of clarity.

He knew she was right. Their relationship, as ambiguous, and shrouded, and unlabeled as it was, had been discovered by the one person in the Galaxy who could forbid it – had probably never been a true secret from him to begin with. However, the Supreme Leader had yet to treat Hux differently. Even when Andromia had gone away and was unavailable to sway her father’s moods.

The realization of his own safety brought a true softness to the General’s features. “I dare admit, I quite missed you.” He confessed.

Yes, what began as Hux forcing himself to take a few hours of solitary reprieve morphed into him finding some much needed contentment.

However, even internal peace could not last and when they arrived outside Jakku right on schedule, he made his way back to the bridge. The plan of action had been decided ahead of time. Ren and Phasma would take a company down and retrieve the map, using whatever means necessary. So there was nothing Hux could do but observe from the command deck while Ren’s shuttle and four personnel transports went planetside.

He didn’t mind though. The General liked it that way, when he was able to watch and listen, and take the opportunity to absorb what was going on around him. Andromia knew as much and didn’t even bother with a greeting when she joined him. Instead, they both just stood and watched as the ships disappeared out of sight.

Eventually, it was Hux who broke the silence.

“Have they landed?”

“Yes, Sir.” One of the technicians behind them answered. “They’re heading to the ambush site now.”

His face remained blank as ever at the news, but Andromia smiled. An idea like that had his name all over it. Descending upon whatever rinky-dink village Lor San Tekka was hiding in would give away their presence too soon. It was better to arrive on-planet a great deal away and then catch the settlement as unaware as possible. That way the sympathizer, or whoever may be with him, had a far lesser chance of slipping through their fingers.

It was no time for praise, however. In fact, she knew from experience that Hux would brush off any commendation she gave over such a minor tactical strategy. So she and the General just continued to gaze down at the night-engulfed dessert world beneath them. As if they were somehow able to see all the goings on at the surface.

They had no way of knowing just when the assault began. No godly telescope to help them peer down and watch their dispatched ‘troopers round up the unsuspecting villagers and go through each home until they found the man whose face had flooded the First Order’s bounty holos.

She and Hux could have gone to one of the consoles and watched the thermal scans, but there was no need. Even if she was curious. The General’s far away look told her everything she needed to know. Each step was turning over in his mind. He didn’t need to be boots on the ground to know just what should be happening with each passing minute.

Hux was well aware of how long everything should take and, without any incoming messages to tell him otherwise, he knew everything was right on track. Sometimes no news was the best news. All the reports said the village was small. This would not take long.

Just as he was undoubtedly sure things should be wrapping up, he caught the change in Andromia's expression from the corner of his eye. It wasn’t as if he was at all focused on the woman beside him. The abruptness in which her brows pulled together and the corners of her mouth sagged just could not go unnoticed. It prompted him out of his mental walkthrough enough to look at her directly.

“Madam Proxy?”

“It’s nothing, General.” The placid assurance did match her frown or the way she stepped closer to the large viewport; like being just the least bit closer to the planet would give her insight on whatever it was that had knocked against the Force. “I just felt something.” 

She didn’t need a sixth sense to know that he rolled his eyes behind her back.

“I assure you, everything is quite alright.” For the first time he made his way to the consoles to peer at one of the screens  – gesturing to the thermal image of Kylo reboarding when she’d joined him. “Ren remains unscathed, as per the usual, and will return shortly.” His eyes flitted across a few of the other screens she didn’t care to take an interest in. “With a prisoner, as it so happens, and then we’ll know the extent of our success.”

Andromia only nodded in unspoken understanding. She had no desire to tell the redhead that whatever she took notice of had nothing to do with Kylo Ren. She’d memorized the everpresent chaos of his Force signature some time ago. Surely he would cause a bigger flux than the miniscule ripple she’d experienced.

“I’m heading to the landing bay to receive them.” She announced. Before he could decide whether or not to join her, Snoke’s Proxy made the choice for him. “I’ll see you at the debriefing, General. Keep up the good work.”

Really, she just wanted a word alone with her father’s apprentice. One that was not marred by Hux’s skepticism. She had a high level of tolerance for those who distrusted the power of the Force. Kylo, she knew, did not. 

Chapter Text

Eager as she was to speak to Kylo, she kept away near the bulkhead when the incoming ships landed. The Stormtroopers would have to unload and disperse, and there was no need for her to be in their way. So she waited until the expected mob of white thinned before crossing the flight deck.

“Make sure he’s given our finest accommodations.” Andromia was actually pleasantly surprised to hear any level of humor from Ren as she neared them. He was speaking to the trio of ‘troopers circled around their newest guest and, not interested in interrupting, she stood to the side and kept her eyes on Kylo as he commanded the soldiers.

It was easy enough to ignore the way the shaggy-haired captive’s gaze settled on her, even though Snoke wouldn’t be happy about how visible she’d made herself to the man. The First Order had worked hard to keep her as more of an ambiguous specter rather than a flesh and blood woman. In fact, anyone who’d ever actually met her were either part of the Order, allies, or dead.

“And begin the extraction as soon as possible.” Ren continued. “The longer we wait, the more ground we lose.”

The ‘trooper with the black pauldron, a Sergeant, responded with a strong and affirmative, “Yes, Sir”, before taking his leave. The other non-ranking soldiers dragged their catch along just a few paces behind.

She was curious as to just who Ren had brought back, but it was unlikely he knew. That would have to wait until they met up with Phasma and Hux to go over what had transpired on Jakku.

“Is there something I can do for you, Lady Malanth?” Through the respirator, Ren sounded just the least bit jovial. It was good to know that success affected him like it did any other person. There were too many rumors of Kylo being some unfeeling puppet.

“There was something, while you were on Jakku. A…” She chuckled at the only phrase that came into her head. It felt so out of date. “A disturbance.” Another laugh – it sounded even cheesier out loud – before forcing herself to turn serious once more. “It was there. Small. Miniscule, even. But there all the same. Did you feel it?”

“Yes.”

One word answers were not something she was exceedingly keen on, finding no joy in having to dig for answers. However, rather than grow short, she allowed Kylo a free pass; knowing that he was used to only giving the exact information he was asked for. The Supreme Leader was not as forgiving with his second pupil as he was with her. She was fully aware of that.

To help break the professional tension, she began a leisurely stroll back across the hangar and nodded for him to follow.

She smiled again when Ren matched her relaxed pace. “Do you know what caused it?”

“A Stormtrooper.”

That was certainly not what she expected. “Really? One of ours? Surely he’s not sensitive to the Force, we have noticed by now.” The collective ‘we’ she referred to in that moment was the entirety of the First Order. ‘Troopers were trained from childhood. Infancy even, if possible. The program was designed to notice the signs in those that may be, for a lack of a better term, so gifted.

On a finer scale, though, she and Kylo would have most certainly picked up on that sort of influence, not to mention Snoke. So, no. It simply wasn’t possible – something which Ren was quick to confirm.

“He’s not. But he did fail to follow orders. An anomaly to be sure. One which the Force seemed to have taken notice of. Captain Phasma will see to it that FN-2187 does not succumb to any further insubordination.”

They walked in silence after that, both knowing that didn’t make any sense. The Stormtrooper program was astounding, but not infallible. Every so often there were those who strayed outside the lines of conformity. It was rare, though hardly remarkable. Certainly not remarkable enough for the connections of the Universe to give a damn.

Then again, the Force did work in mysterious ways. 

It took nearly an hour before the interrogation could begin. As much as everyone would have liked to just get a jump on it, rushing into things, even the persecution of a prisoner, was always unwise. It was best to know what they were up against. Which, in this case, proved to be a bigger fish than initially expected.

Poe Dameron was a man whose past accomplishments certainly justified his brazen attitude. Flying since the ripe old age of six, followed by earning his stripes while with the New Republic’s fleet, he now served as Wing Commander under General Organa. That information alone made it clear he was strong. Throw in some burning commitment and unwavering morals, and the man was a very special breed.

That is, the kind that didn’t break under enhanced interrogation techniques.

Even after several hours of of torture he remained unwilling to give anything up. Save for the occasional sarcastic remark to his tormentors. Once he’d been strapped to the interrogation chair for nearly six hours, though, at least one of the Force users aboard the Finalizer grew tired of it.

“It’s almost a shame.” Andromia said when she let herself into Hux’s office, knowing full well how much he disliked being disturbed. Were she one of his crew, he would have ignored her completely. Were she Ren, he would have told her to get out. But since she was who she was, he offered her the briefest of glances in recognition. He would not stand to greet her, though.

There would be no grand, stately gestures of veneration here. Certainly not when he was in the middle of writing Phasma concerning FN-2187’s reconditioning, and definitely not when she and the General were sealed away from prying eyes. That was something she’d seen to personally. Andromia had never told him as much outright, but he’d realized on his own that she would not tolerate being treated like a sovereign when it was just the two of them.

Her power and standing was still recognized, but the half-bent bows and the insistence of calling her by her titles… She didn’t need those things from him to know that he fully grasped her authority. After years of having her protest those exact behaviors, he’d settled into a sense of private informality she desired. The very same that left her neglected as he finished composing his message to Phasma.

Only when it was sent did he finally turn his full attention to her.

“What’s almost a shame?” He asked, half to remind her of whatever she’d come to discuss and half to draw her attention from the datapad in her hand. At his own lack of attention she’d taken to entertaining herself, it seemed. Or maybe she’d been engrossed in whatever she was looking at when she first arrived. He wasn’t sure.

Either way, it didn’t matter, because at his prompting she leaned forward from the seat across him and plopped the portable screen down on the desk.

“That.” As if on cue, the image on the datapad shouted in pain. “He’s rather handsome.”

The feed was live from the cameras in Dameron’s cell and the pilot clearly was not enjoying the electric shock that was sent through him. It was quite the method. No need for taser batons when an interrogation officer only had to spin a dial.

Instead of Andromia’s comment about the man’s looks, it was the torture itself that made Hux arch one ginger brow in curiosity. The woman was by far one of the more humane members of the First Order’s High Command. Watching someone suffer even such a routine extraction technique was not her idea of a good time. He knew that.

He also knew, more than anyone, that personal views could easily be slotted aside for the good of the Order.

“Commander Dameron’s debatable attractiveness aside, he has valuable information locked away inside that head of his.” The General folded his hands, complete with laced fingers, atop the desk. He was ever the picture of immaculate posture and poise. Not to mention composure. If Andromia meant to ignite some never before seen sense of jealousy within her redheaded friend, then she failed.

Hux refused to waste time fretting over what other men may or may not interest her. Mostly because he didn’t care. He didn’t acquire the rank of General by being insecure or unsure of himself. Whoever else Andromia decided to occupy her time with would leave his ego and lofty sense of self-worth untouched.

“Information,” he continued, “we may have acquired by now were the pilot himself not such an asset.” They both had seen the opportunity presented to them. Keeping Poe as visibly unscathed as possible would work in their favor if they needed to use him against the Resistance. People were far more willing to trust you if your hostages seemed generally ‘fine’.

“And do you think six more hours of this will get us any further?”

Ah, so their treatment of the pilot had troubled her.

“I’m afraid not.” He put two fingers on the datapad and slid it closer to her. “Truthfully, after four hours it became rather obvious that our more palatable methods of persuasion would prove fruitless.” The admission made the corners of Andromia’s mouth turn down in a muted frown. “However, I was not all eager to send Ren in at the time. Nor am I now. He is reckless at the best of times. This map – with the circumstances being so personal to him, I fully expect him to grow more rabid than usual.”

“You and the Supreme Leader both.” Andromia mused as she rose from the chair. She reached out for the datapad and the device closed the distance between the desk and her fingertips seemingly on its own. “Why else do you think I’m here?”

The obvious way in which she made it sound had Hux feeling slightly foolish over his earlier worries. It made perfect sense. The Supreme Leader was the only one Kylo Ren truly respected. By sending the one person who had the right to act in his stead, Snoke could better ensure the Knight’s cooperation with his wishes.

The realization had the General giving a single nod in understanding. “Of course. I’ll send word for Ren to get started.”

Hux trusted in her abilities, and in the Supreme Leader’s guidance, but he could do nothing to suppress the flare of concern that burst within him. It was something that Andromia, with her supernatural capacity, picked up on it and patted one small hand atop his gloved ones before she left.

It wasn’t enough though, because once she was gone he sighed heavily and let his shoulders hunch forward for just a moment. Admittedly, he didn’t know much about the Force, but he just felt nothing good could come of this.

Even if the woman was Snoke’s Proxy, one Force user being implemented as a leash for another seemed like a horrible idea.

Unfortunately it was yet another concern that would have to wait. There were more important things to do than anticipate how having two powerful Force sensitives – both controlling and one insane – aboard his ship could go wrong. Or, if he forced himself to think positively, how it could go right.

So he tucked it away for a better time and poured his attention into the matters at hand. Which was to, first, alert the interrogation specialists that they were through, and second, let Ren know that it was his turn to take a crack at their prisoner.

All in all, both only took a few minutes, and in less than a quarter of an hour Hux was leaving his office to head down to the interrogation cell himself. Even if Andromia was on ship, he didn’t trust the younger man not to take things too far.

Except Proxy Malanth wasn’t just anywhere among the Finalizer’s maze of halls and rooms. She was there, standing outside the very door he was headed for. And whereas he kept his face purposely blank despite his surprise, she didn’t make a single effort to hide hers. Neither of them expected to see each other again so soon.

“General.” It wasn’t an obvious question, but the way her voice turned up on the last syllable told him that she was wondering about his attendance.

“Ren will acquire the location of the map rather quickly, I’m sure. It saves time if I am here to receive the information directly rather than wait for him to feel like telling me.” Hux never made an effort to hide his distaste towards Kylo’s lack of communication, among other things, and he has no plans to start doing so. “Is there anything I can do for you, Lady Malanth?”

Andromia only shook her head slightly. Almost lazily, actually. “No. I want to see how he does. How he works. Our methods are exceedingly different and I’m curious.”

Curious was such a misleading word. This was less of an innocent observation and more of a self-indulgent one. She knew how she would go about rooting through someone’s head and she knew how Snoke would do it. But she’d never had the chance to witness Kylo Ren in all his legendary strength. Now was the perfect opportunity, even if it was at the pilot’s expense. When it came down to it, Andromia was truly excited about working with Kylo.

But, not one to rush to Hux’s beck and call, even for the benefit of himself and the First Order, Ren left them waiting. Hux was ready to rant about it when Andromia sighed, letting her head tilt back against the wall she had her back to. It made the General scowl.

“Is something the matter? Are you…” He fluttered a hand between her and the closed door, clearly meaning to gesture to the pilot on the other side.

“No.” She sounded suddenly exhausted and then stood up straight once more as a pair of ‘troopers passed by, regaining her vigor. “No, no taming him. No soothing him. I’ll never know the authenticity of Kylo Ren’s influence if I throw my own on the pile first.” Not to mention that it would break the ‘no meddling’ mandate. “I’m just… feeling him. Our pilot is brave. In pain, surely, but still strong.”

“Witches.” He huffed, earning a scoff from the woman. “The both of you.”

While he admired her glaring sense of ownership, it unsettled him that she could get such a read on Dameron with literal walls between them. It was a reminder of just how vulnerable he himself was to both her and Ren. He knew they could pick up on his emotional state at any time and that it was something he’d never be able to prevent. ‘Like pheromones on an animal’, Andromia had once explained to him. Ever changing and ever present. It was never something he’d be able to hide, but at least he could manipulate it.

So long as the General could keep his emotions in check, he was more or less safe. As were his foremost thoughts if he kept pointedly focused.

At the end of the day, though, the truth of it was he couldn’t block the Force wielders out so much as he could make himself very, very boring to read. Constantly projecting an expected mix of calm, anger, or agitation. Always thinking about work.

It was exhausting, but worth it. At least as far as everything else was concerned he knew he was protected. Kylo was a brute. If the man ever went digging, he’d feel it. The same couldn’t be said for Andromia, but he trusted her to mind her own business most of the time. Unlike Ren, she granted autonomy to those around her.

Even with all those safeguards, the woman’s power and the casual way in which she used it made his stomach twist. He’d seen it firsthand too many times not to take it lightly.

The way she became exceedingly alert several seconds before Kylo’s loud footsteps could be heard heading their way didn’t make him feel any better.

Chapter Text

Hux was so desperate not to think about the Force abilities of the woman next to him that, for maybe the first time in his life, he almost welcomed the sight of an ever-masked Kylo Ren rounding the corner.

Not that his attitude portrayed his near relief.

“Finally. I explicitly told you to begin your magic-trick as soon as possible, Ren.” The redhead sneered. “I was beginning to think you didn’t care about finding this map at all.”

“Your impatience means little to me, General.” The manipulated tone of Kylo’s vocoder only made him sound even more disinterested in Hux’s annoyance than he already was. However, the monotone drawl ended when he turned his armored face to Andromia. “Though I do apologize for keeping our guest waiting.”

The General clenched his jaw. This was his ship, damnit! He would not be so casually disregarded. Perhaps equally as infuriating was Ren’s friendliness toward Andromia. The Knight nearly sounded genuinely apologetic, how irksome.

Really, he should have been thankful that her presence might make Kylo a better co-commander. But, pragmatic as ever, the potential negatives weighed on his mind. Separately, Andromia and Ren were manageable. Together… Well, there was no telling what havoc the Force wielders could wreak if they became close-knit. 

“Madam Proxy-” Hux continued after Ren’s rude remarks, purposefully throwing Andromia’s proper title in his face in an attempt to separate the two by way of class, “-has come to observe your work. So if you would be so kind as to begin, both of us are eagerly awaiting you to do your job.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll get us what your men couldn’t.” The sinister note in Ren’s assurance only prompted a stiff nod from the General, but Andromia could feel the jolt that went down her own spine, and willed her own presence in the Force not to broadcast her displeasure. It had sounded far too much like Snoke’s own mocking for her to be comfortable with, and something deep within her told her she should leave. That, even if it was a chance to see Kylo in action, she didn’t want to be a part of this.

The look in Hux’s eyes when those translucent green irises caught her gaze once more said the same thing. The redhead was by no means a forgiving man, and felt no sympathy for the pilot on Ren’s rack, but he knew Andromia was different. She was merciful, to a degree, especially to those she deemed misled. Which, truth be told, most in the Resistance were. They were all clinging to this idea of betterment through Light – of salvation via Luke Skywalker. It was a pipe dream. A sense of hope, twisted and warped.

But hope was powerful. As far as Andromia was concerned, it wasn’t Commander Dameron’s fault he’d been fed the wrong brand of it.

Yet, as sorry as she was for the man, she leaned back against the wall again. She could extract the information too, she knew – in her own way, a kinder way – but that would be going against her father’s explicit orders. So, despite Hux’s sudden silent insistence that a woman of her station needn’t witness something so gruesome, even behind a closed door, she shut her eyes and let herself get lost in the spaces between all things. The space occupied by the Force.

She appreciated that Ren paced the process – simply instilling his influence into the pilot’s mind, initially, to prove that he indeed could. It was a good practice and allowed the victim to panic first and confess what they knew. Dameron was tough, though. Tougher than anyone aboard this ship gave him credit for, and even though he did panic, even though he was afraid, he remained tight lipped.

Andromia could feel the man's horror. His repulsion. How sickened he was. How terrified. Never in all his time with the Resistance had he been prepared for something like this. But to Andromia’s surprise, and Kylo Ren’s agitation, he fought it. Poe tried to think of anything besides the other man’s consciousness getting twisted into his own. To focus on anything but the map.

He was so close to being broken, refusing to surrender.

And then Kylo grew impatient.

It was Dameron’s verbal mention of the Resistance's own tenacity that set the Knight off. Because Ren could have just kept slotting things aside like he’d been doing; brushing what he didn’t need out of the way until he happened across what he did. Instead, he jumped to the more tenacious approach of butchering the pilot’s mind and carving away the chunks he deemed immaterial.

It was a painful process to be sure – Poe felt like he was dying in the most indescribable way – but effective. Ignited by Ren’s Force-driven intent, the knowledge locked away in the man’s mind glowed like a tiny star when it was found, and it was so close to being grasped that even Andromia could see it, in a way.

Weakened as he was, the pilot still tried to pull it back to himself. To hide it once again and think of anything else despite his fried neurons. The glow faded just a little bit, and then Kylo reached.

Dameron’s yell was muffled by the cell’s durasteel door, and Andromia opened her eyes with a sharp inhale. Hux expected her to be tired for some reason, but she looked quite the opposite.

“What? What is it?” He asked and she rubbed the back of her neck while pushing off the wall. The General, dropped his voice into a hush and needled her the most effective way he knew how; familiarity. “Andromia.”

“He’s far more savage than I thought.” She nearly whispered, and where Hux anticipated disdain or horror, he only heard fascination. The expression of which she allowed to scrawl itself across her face, though his view of her was cut off when Ren exited the interrogation room.

“It’s on a droid.” The Knight said. “A BB unit.”

“Well, then, if it’s on Jakku, we’ll soon have it.” The General couldn't be bothered to hide his satisfaction at the intel. He and Ren may have their differences, and Andromia may not approve, but the Knight was damn effective.

“I leave that to you.” Kylo turned to leave but stopped short when he could feel the woman’s eyes on him. He peered back at her through the slits in his helm, and while he certainly knew she wasn’t holding him in place physically or otherwise, he found himself unable, or perhaps simply unwilling, to move.

She wasn’t looking at him the way he was used to others doing – like he was a wild animal needing to be tamed, or a disappointing student needing to be punished, or even a trophy. No, she was examining him the way one does a new puzzle; turning all the pieces right side up and hunting for the edges. And yet, she felt no different. There were no flickers of either satisfaction or discomfort (or anything else, for that matter) emanating from her. He even waited to see if she would purposefully project something his way.

When she didn’t, he reached out through the Force with exploratory intent. Feeling out directly, with the goal of investigating the neutrality she shrouded herself in rather than just being aware of it. It was a line he’d never dared to cross before then, and, when he pushed past it, found her signature to be far more diverse than it appeared on the surface. No sooner was the discovery made than her walls went up; cutting him off completely.

No signature. No life forces to be sensed. Nothing. It was jarring, and he couldn’t help but feel as if he was watching a corpse when she wordlessly abandoned the two men where they stood. 

Her usual place in the Force didn’t return until she rounded the corner, out of sight.

“It would seem that she does not favor your methods.” Hux knew it was a vague, potentially unfounded thing to say, seeing as he had no idea what had just transpired between the two of them, but he hoped it would be enough to send the Knight away regardless.

A scoff echoed through the synthesizer of Ren’s helmet before he left in the opposite direction, loud footfalls made even noisier by whatever mood their unspoken exchange had instilled upon him. The whole of it had Hux knowing that which he had, previously, only merely suspected.

They would be the death of him.

Of course, not if his own job as General didn’t put him in a grave first, because he sure felt like he was in Hell when he found himself on the bridge, commanding fire against one of their own TIE fighters.

Chapter Text

Dameron’s escape turned Andromia’s four person detail from an on-board precaution to an in-person necessity. Walking around the ship surrounded by a wall of red plastoid felt over the top, but if Stormtroopers were going to go rogue and Rebellion pilots were going to hijack TIEs then protocol was protocol. 

At least they didn’t follow her onto the bridge. The command hub didn't need to be over crowded. 

“Careful, Ren, that your personal interests not interfere with orders from Leader Snoke.” She could hear Hux say as the door opened. He was all even tones and piercing eyes – a General if ever there was one, but it was highly unusual for Kylo to need to be cautioned to follow Snoke’s orders. 

Worse, Ren seemed deaf to the gravity of the reminder. 

“I want that map.” His warped tone insisted lowly, thick with warning. “For your sake, I suggest you get it.” He shouldered Hux out of the way and just barely avoided making bodily contact with Andromia as he passed her, quietly muttering her title while he left. 

After a shared look, bridge command was transferred and the General and Andromia sequestered themselves in the nearest conference roomwith her detail standing watch in the hallway. A chance away from the bustle of other officers, and the unease pouring off of everyone, gave them both time to think in silence for quite some time before Andromia eventually broke their contemplative quiet

“He’s not normally like this.” She said, and then added. “Is he?”

Because she didn’t know, not really. The Knight had a temper, that wasn’t a secret, but to be so insubordinate… Well, she’d never seen him behave that way around Snoke, not that it would surprise her if Kylo was on his very best behavior in front of the Supreme Leader. Everyone was, including herself. Usually.

Not doubt he was was often on his best behavior for her, as well. Hux had a far better understanding of what could be considered baseline behavior for the Knight than she did. 

“Like what, exactly?” The redhead nearly scoffed as a whole slew of adjectives pertaining to Kylo Ren popped into his head. “Arrogant? Immature? Undisciplined?”

“Recalcitrant. Disrespectful.”

“Towards myself? Frequently. Though it is odd for him to be so openly contrary regarding direct instructions from the Supreme Leader.”

“Towards you-Armitage, you outrank him.”

“And yet he continues to be my co-commander all the same.” He grumbled and continued to stare at the durasteel, getting lost in his own thoughts again. There was a time, years ago, when the First Order did things with more tact. When Andromia would visit planets and woo leaders, using diplomacy – and, if necessary, her particular abilities – to persuade governments to swear allegiance. It was all very practical and extremely successful.

Then Snoke had taken Kylo Ren under his wing and there was a whole new approach. Admittedly throwing the vicious Force user, and his Knights, planetside was able to make systems fall in line faster, though it made people feel conquered rather than protected. It was pushing the First Order’s tyrannical, militaristic style of ruling just a bit too far.

That same type of heavy handedness had only given the Empire’s Resistance more allies, and history just loved to repeat itself.

Hux rubbed his gloved palms together, this whole shit show made him want a cigarra.

“You needn’t abstain on my account.” His far off gaze quickly turned to a scowl and he expertly reeled in his mental wanderings, making the woman’s eyebrows raise in surprise. “I wasn’t digging, you were just thinking loudly.” She added with an open gesture, trying, and failing, to ignore how his quick reaction felt like a door being slammed in her face. Suddenly she realized that her own well-practiced blockades might only be exacerbating their issue with Kylo. “You know I don’t mind if you smoke.”

The datapad on the table chimed and he moved it closer to check the alert. “I’m trying to quit.”

“Why would you ever want to do that?”

“Because I started going through two packs a day when you were shipped off to that backwater planet, and if I continued doing so I’d be dead far sooner than either of us would like.” He scrolled through the tablet, brows pulling together as he read the message.

She watched him quickly get up and redo the necessary closures on his jacket. “Where are you going?”

“Someone moved the droid off-planet. I will not sacrifice one of my men by making them inform Ren.”

“So you’re going to sacrifice yourself, then?”

“I’m far more accustomed to his moods.” Hux couldn’t help the way the corner of his mouth curled up in amusement at the cold indignation in her eyes. 

She wasn’t going to insult him by suggesting he needed protection, but was furious at the idea of the General willfully submitting himself to further disrespect – and he wasn’t so prideful as to ignore the fact that if anyone on this ship could truly put Kylo Ren in his place, it would be her. “You’re welcome to join me.” He tacked on smoothly, the evenness in his tone obscuring his growing interest in seeing just how this would play out if Ren really lost his temper.

Over the years, Hux had walked through countless corridors with her beside him and the red sentries in tow, but this time it instilled a new sense of power he hadn’t experienced before. 

Unfortunately, by the time they arrived, Hux’s aid had already taken the initiative of doing what was quite literally his job by updating Snoke’s volatile apprentice, and finding Kylo with his hand firmly around Lieutenant Mitaka’s throat skyrocketed the redhead’s increasing self-importance into white hot fury.

“Release him at once!” The viciousness of Hux’s demand – mixed with the absolute hostility pouring off of him – actually made Ren comply, and Mitaka fell to the floor in a gasping, shaky heap. Though, the Knight knew that it wasn’t Hux’s particular breed of outrage that had put a pit in his stomach, and for several seconds Kylo was genuinely worried that Snoke had, in an unprecedented move, come aboard. Then the raw, fear inducing malice was gone and everything was wrong. 

He could vaguely hear Hux lecturing him, voice laced with venom while he crouched down to check on the Lieutenant, but Kylo didn’t understand what was being said because it all sounded terribly far away and he was so incredibly dizzy, then someone that wasn’t the General said something about medical, and there was a jumble of red.

When Ren’s awareness slammed back into an equilibrium, the brutality of it left him with a disgusting sense of vertigo. He ripped his helmet off as fast he could, dropped it to the ground, braced one arm against the ruined console as he doubled over, and willed his body not to vomit. 

“What the fuck?” He choked out, quietly, fearfully, and – perhaps most importantly – to himself, in an assumedly empty communications room.

“You need to take deep breaths.” 

The speed at which he whipped around did not help his nausea in the slightest. He opened his mouth to say something but quickly shut it, not yet trusting that he’d be able to keep from throwing up. Had Andromia come in with Hux? He couldn’t remember. 

Forcing himself to breathe normally did help, but when he tried to connect the dots he nearly felt sick again. 

The Supreme Leader was not nearby, that much he was absolutely sure of now. And the woman in front of him felt, well, not one hundred percent her normal self– her signature was more aligned with general unhappiness than indifference – but certainly too level to have triggered whatever the hell happened. 

Snoke had messed with his head before, of course, though even the nearly all-powerful alien couldn’t manage that while being so far away, right? Had the Supreme Leader, somehow, used his Proxy as a sort of node? Was that even possible?

His eyes flit around like he could see the growing list of potential explanations right in front of him, and he startled when a hand came to rest on his arm.

“I can’t answer questions you won’t ask, Kylo.” Hearing the soft way she said his first name – and only his first name – cleared away some mental fog. “Well, I could, you know what I mean" she went on, “but I would rather have a verbal conversation until you’re back to normal.”

Everything began to fall into place, then, and his mouth twisted into a self-loathing grimace. It was an obvious conclusion, really. 

“You did that.”

“Well it certainly wasn’t Hux.” She glanced over her shoulder, checking the long since closed door. “Though, I’m sure if he had the ability he would have.” Kylo felt her agitation swell slightly before it bled out of the Force, but this time, when she looked back at him, her face betrayed her neatly projected neutrality. Those, usually friendly, frosty blue eyes were colder than he could ever remember them being. “I do hope you realize that you’re going to have to make amends for damaging the General’s ship, and you will not-”

“I-”

“I am speaking!” She shouted, and there it was again; that frigid, consuming abhorrence that was far too much like Snoke’s. The type that never failed to remind him how much of a disappointment the Supreme Leader thought him to be. “Have you completely forgotten who I am and why I’m here? Orders from me are orders from the Supreme Leader himself! If I say-” The sight of Kylo swiftly dropping to kneel before her derailed Andromia’s tirade.

Hidden deep within the Unknown Regions, aboard the Supremacy, Snoke grinned wickedly. It had been a long time since he’d felt such Darkness ripple across the Force. 

Chapter Text

For Ren, going down on one knee and looking at the floor had been reflexive. A near-unconscious act of self preservation instilled in him from countless visits to Snoke’s throne room. 

For Andromia, it was a sign that things had gone too far.

She quickly wound herself in, gripping her vitriol – along with every other emotion the disaster of a day had pulled out of her – and burying it deep under that veneer of carefully presented composure where it couldn’t lash out. The moment her signature reverted back to the more apathetic Force presence Kylo was used to, he sucked in a shaky breath, eyes still downcast. 

“Kriff.” The curse escaped Andromia as more of an exhale than a real word. “Look at me.”His head snapped up and those dark brown eyes glued themselves to her. She wished she could fool herself into believing he wasn't scared, but his Force signature wouldn’t let her, and it had been so long since someone had been afraid of her rather than her station that she found herself at a momentary loss. So for several painful seconds they stayed like that. With her speechless, and Kylo Ren silently staring up at her. 

“I’m sorry.” Was what she finally settled on. “We will sort this out-” she gestured to the still sparking console beside them. “-and I can’t imagine that you intend to, but under no circumstances are you to interact with Lieutenant Mitaka. Not today. Not tomorrow. Not for the foreseeable future. Am I clear?”

Kylo swallowed, finding his voice. “Yes.”

Andromia wasn’t going to begrudge him the lack of honorific. Not after everything that happened. Probably never again. “Good.” 

There had been countless times over the years when she’d wanted to comfort him, even through the Force, but never had. For so so many reasons. In that moment though, knowing she was the one who’d hurt him, she couldn’t bear not to. 

Still in shock from everything else, Kylo remained frozen in place when she bent down and placed a kiss – so light that it hardly counted as physical contact – against his forehead.

“I really am sorry.” Andromia said again, realizing the tender action hadn’t helped. “I’m sure you’ll want to discuss things. When you’re ready, come find me.” 

She left him kneeling on the floor, flooded with fear and confusion and a myriad of other overwhelming emotions but knowing she couldn’t do anything about them until they’d both regained themselves. Once she was in the corridor and the door shut behind her, she took a heavy, almost cleansing breath. 

Maker, she needed a drink. And someone who knew her. Really knew her. 

“Madam Proxy?” The red-clad, PD designated ‘trooper on her right asked. One of the few she recognized by their voice. Which she better well should, seeing as he’d been with her the longest. 

“I’m quite well, Five-Five.” 

“Yes, Ma’am, forgive me, but regarding Commander Ren. Does he need assistance?”

Right. Protocol.

“No, he’s quite well.” She assured the guard, despite the fact Kylo definitely wasn’t, but knowing that if anyone checked on him it would only make things worse. So she maintained the lie and began walking, with PD-055 and the second guard falling in step just behind her. Their little band was much quieter with the newly reduced numbers. “The other two escorted Lieutenant Mitaka to medical without issue?”

“Yes, Ma’am. They are on their way back to us now.”

“And General Hux?”

“Still in medical with the Lieutenant, Ma’am.”

“Good.” She didn’t ask him how he knew those things, he always knew things – or someone else on the rotation did. That was their job, to know things and die in the line of duty. “We’ll meet him there.” 

“Yes, Ma’am.” PD-055 then radioed the missing squad members, and their soon-to-be new location echoed through the communicator strapped to the guard beside them as they followed Andromia to the lift.

Considering he’d just been strangled, Mitaka was a champ. He’d tried to shoo away the medical droid, but Hux had stopped him, and the General had every intent on staying close until his aide was given a clean bill of health. When Andromia and her scarlet shadows arrived, she managed to leave the quad of ‘troopers in the main hallway, outside triage. 

“How is he doing?” She asked, coming up behind Hux as he lingered in the doorway of the small, private med bay. The redhead looked over his shoulder at her before moving just outside the room to preserve Mitaka’s privacy. The Lieutenant had been through enough, but he was so proper and polite that he’d certainly hop to attention if he saw the Lady had come to check on him.

“It’s mostly bruising, so there isn’t much that can be done.” Hux kept his voice quiet. “He should be just about done here, actually.” And because Hux was right about everything, the little spherical bot floated their way, trilling out a series of beeps and clutching a datapad in its claw-like appendage. He took the tablet but ignored the bot. When it trilled again, in exactly the same way, Hux said, “We don’t speak Binary.”

“It’s recommending three cycles’ leave.” Andromia told him and just shrugged when the General looked at her. She certainly had not known Binary before her time away. He was smart enough to put two and two together. 

“Right.” Using the attached stylus, Hux scrolled through the document on the screen and verified all the necessary information. He ensured Mitaka’s name was spelled correctly, with the proper rank listed. He approved three days of mandatory limited convalescent leave and tacked on four more days of optional leave. Then he leaned forward to peek in Mitaka’s room, frowned at the sight of the man laying on the cot, staring blankly up at the ceiling, and added a mandatory psychological evaluation. After he signed his name, Hux handed the tablet to the droid with a sigh. “If he has to be discharged, I’ll jettison Ren myself.” He mused, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“The Lieutenant's tough.” Andromia reminded him. “Besides, there’s no risk of a repeat incident, which should help his recovery.”

Hux couldn’t help but smirk. “Oh? Truly pulled rank on him then, did you?” When he dropped his hand and opened his eyes, she turned her head to the side. His smug expression became critical. “What happened?” 

“Do they need you on the bridge?”

“No.” He said slowly, trying to pull more information out of her. “We’re in a hyerperlane on our way back to base, I didn’t plan on checking in for quite some time.”

“Are you free for a drink, in my quarters? We need to talk.” She asked and watched him roll his tongue in his cheek, losing his patience. “Please don’t make me make an official summons.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Right now, honestly, in this moment, on this day, I really would.” She sighed, and Hux was sure that, just for a second, she looked absolutely exhausted.

They had an agreement, which the woman was loath to break, but she was weary. Even if the idea of socializing during the middle of the cycle made him uncomfortable, Hux gave in. And once they were safely behind closed doors, each with a generous pour in hand, she told him everything.

She told him how frustrated she’d been when they’d walked into the communication’s room, and how she’d yelled at Ren afterward. About how she’d used the Force. About the orders she’d given regarding Mitaka. She didn’t manage to explain it perfectly linearly, and some of the ins-and-outs of how she’d accidentally exposed her Force signature to the Knight still went over Hux’s head, but he listened intently all the same. Letting her finish her glass of wine early on and then rest her head in his lap while she prattled on and on for what seemed nearly forever. 

After she’d finally finished, he drank the last sip of his brandy, squeezed the glass onto the already crowded side table between her long-empty wine glass and the ashtray that she had – upon their arrival to the room – announced she would not be getting rid of despite his plans to quit smoking, looked down at her, and sighed.

Over the years, they had discussed at length what Andromia wanted First Order leadership to look like when she ascended to power. Not that it seemed like Snoke would be passing things on to her any time soon – the decrepit creature seemed like he could live forever at this point. 

And, not that Kylo knew it, but ever since the first time she’d seen those sad brown eyes, Andromia had wanted the Knight aligned with her. However, she and Armitage had agreed that, in light of…how she tended to behave….she needed to play the long game and keep a reasonable distance. Which she’d reluctantly done. For over five years. Now there she was, saying that she couldn’t bear to keep that professional buffer intact any longer. Not when she was sure she’d managed to scare Kylo out of his mind. Not when she needed someone besides Snoke to understand her the way only another Force wielder could. And certainly not when she was sure Ren had been with the Order long enough that her father wouldn’t care if she took a personal interest in the Knight.

Hux was not a jealous man – not really – but he was a realistic one. The two Force users potentially growing close during Ren’s hunt for Skywalker, and while Andromia herself had been tasked to oversee his progress during said hunt, was not opportune for any of them. The General knew both of them well enough to know that. He also knew that, when it came to Andromia’s decisions, he didn’t necessarily have a say. 

One day, he told himself, one day he’d get an equal seat at the table. Until that time came he would power through overseeing the military, babysitting Kylo Ren, and making the best out of situations that he couldn’t control. 

Still, he and Andromia really needed to discuss things in further detail.

“Andy-” He started, but a beep from the intercom cut him off.

“Madam Proxy, Commander Ren is here to speak with you.” A voice – one of the newer ones, PD-090 – told them through the speaker near the main door. Hux cursed under his breath and the Proxy sat up. As soon as her head was out of his lap, he stood.

Andromia watched him fetch his gloves from his right pocket and pull them on before asking, “What are you doing?”  

“You can’t honestly think I’m going to allow myself to get caught up in this more than I already am.” He scoffed, and she looked up at him imploringly “Maker above, fine.” 

He sat down and dug a beaten up almost finished pack of cigarras, plus a lighter, from his left pocket. He’d held out, but if he was going to shoot down one of their own fighters, escort his right hand man to medical, and be subjected to whatever the hell was about to happen all in the same cycle, then he was going to fucking smoke.

Chapter Text

A staring match began the moment Kylo walked through the door. When he’d decided to take up Andromia’s invitation to talk, he figured she wouldn’t have company, least of all Hux. And, to be fair, the General didn’t necessarily want to be there either. The stress of it made him burn through half his cigarra at an alarming rate and he tapped it against the side of the ashtray, deciding that if neither of them were going to get whatever this was moving along, then he would. 

Andromia beat him to the punch. 

“Unless you’re leaving, the helmet comes off.” She coaxed, and Hux scoffed around his cigarette at the gentleness of her tone. 

Uncovering his face did nothing to dampen the glare Kylo was leveling at the redhead.

“Why is he here?” The Knight seethed, almost like he had forgotten what happened earlier. 

Though he was certainly trying to control himself, that much was obvious. As upset as he sounded, he appeared even moreso; right hand gripping his mask a little too tight and the left balling up into a fist. Andromia could feel the confusion, paranoia, and horror that mingled with his anger, and put in extra effort to keep herself outwardly neutral.

A billow of smoke escaped the corner of Hux’s mouth. “Not all of us sequester ourselves away, Ren. Is the concept of socializing with one’s peers truly so difficult to grasp?”

Kylo bit back with a scalding remark about how a meager military officer would never be on the same level as Snoke’s Proxy; only for the General to wield that same sentiment back against him. “And you think you are?”

Andromia watched it unfold and rolled her eyes. She knew that, while there was no love lost between Hux and Ren, things weren’t as simple as them just hating one another. If it were, one of them would have wound up dead some time ago, and she honestly wasn’t sure which. They were both smart. They were both capable. They were both murderers. If they ever truly, wholly worked together, the First Order would be insurmountable. She’d told her father as much the first time the rift between them had become glaring evident, but the advice went ignored and Snoke continued to pit them against each other time and time again. 

Competition feeds their desire for success, the Supreme Leader had said. 

But from where Andromia stood, it fed pettiness and underhanded infighting.

“General Hux is welcome to be here, as are you.” She interrupted, cutting off some inelegant threat Kylo was making against the redhead.

He waited for some sort of disapproval or frustration to pour off of her. When it didn’t, the Knight realized her continued near-apathy was worse than Hux’s fearlessness and smugness combined. “Just because you can’t feel it doesn’t mean it’s indifference.” She almost muttered, harnessing his full attention. 

Apparently the events of the day were taking its toll, because Kylo had not meant to project that thought, and realizing he had done so frayed his thin tether of self-control and freed the reason he’d come to see her.

“I never feel it!” He barked, too loud and too acidic. For the first time in his life he was screaming at the Proxy, and unless he started to get truly dangerous again she had every intention of letting him. “You barely feel like anything! EVER! You’re just there.” He started to pace. “Grey! Boring! But then you go and do something like that!? And you felt like-like-” He dug his fingers into his hair and froze in place, unable to admit the level of terror she’d instilled within him while Hux was sitting right there. Something that could only be described as a pained roar tore itself from his throat. 

Because that was the point, wasn’t it? He figured it couldn’t possibly be anything else. Her personal spectrum of gracious sovereignty and near familiarity, that guise of semi-soft kindness that she used to get him to relax – despite how goddamn eerie he found it to be – was simply that, a veil to hide how similar to Snoke she actually was. How she was cruel like him. Sadistic like him. Kylo was sure this whole thing had to have been some sort of sick test. One that he’d failed! And the Supreme Leader would never opt to dress him down privately when there was already an audience available, so why would she? Or maybe she had something worse in mind. Her earlier words echoed in his memory:

“...you’re going to have to make amends for damaging the General’s ship…”

With a freshly clenched jaw, his eyes wandered back to Hux who,irritated by the ranting and raving, was momentarily preoccupied with snubbing out the butt of his quickly-finished cigarra.

Kylo’s leather gloves audibly strained under the tension of his ever tightening hands because he knew what was oozing into his signature.

Anxiety.

Shame.

Fear. 

Andromia tilted her head, and the sound of her half up-do brushing against the shoulders of her stiff, black, satin dress made his gaze snap back to her. He didn’t like the way her eyebrows were drawn together, nor did he enjoy the dull throb of pity that escaped her and entered the Force – but at least it was something. 

Next to her, Hux readied to light another smoke. With no innate ability to sense the emotions swirling within Kylo, he was merely glad that Ren had stopped shouting. If he were Force sensitive, that particular mix of emotions would have triggered several unpleasant childhood memories.

For Andromia, some of the more brutal Master-Apprentice interactions she’d witnessed between Snoke and Kylo sprung to mind.

“Kylo… Armitage is not here as some sort of punishment.” The assurance, while soft, felt too loud against the silent backdrop of the room, and made Kylo momentarily consider ritual suicide.In his own shock, Hux choked against a too-quick inhale. While he worked to get his breathing under control – and marveling at just how abruptly the whole situation had seemed to veer off course – the General watched Andromia stand, remove her gloves, and drop them onto the short tight knit carpet.

Newly bared palms slowly came up to cradle Ren’s face despite the way he leaned away from them. As soon as her hands were on him, Andromia let her carefully constructed shroud evaporate. A black and chrome helmet hit the floor with a muffled ‘thump’ and large hands, still cloaked in their own thick leather, clamped down around either of the woman’s wrists. 

Kylo could feel everything. Every chord of understanding, and guilt, and empathy – and more, those were only the big ones – that strummed through her and danced into the Force. 

After only knowing the stifled version she fronted with, experiencing the Proxy’s true presence was almost overwhelming and his grip on her wrists tightened. Beneath everything, he could sense the undercurrent of Andromia’s own Darkness. Which did feel a lot like Snoke’s, he realized, but not identical. And wasn’t that a relief.  

While he sorted through it all, Andromia gently squeezed his face and said, “All’s well, General. That won’t be necessary.”

That seemingly random comment, plus the tell tale ‘click’ of a holster snapping closed made Kylo’s eyes widen, and then a shock of unbridled possessiveness jolted out of the woman. Her fingers curled against his cheeks and jaw with short, well manicured nails barely pressing against his skin. Though none of that tempered him quite like the way he thought her blue eyes turned gold for a fleeting decisecond. 

Andromia knew that Kylo wanted to lash out at Hux for what, the Knight assumed, was an assassination attempt. And he knew if he tried, he’d suffer for it. 

So they both remained there, locked together. Staring. Breathing. “I’m going to let go now, and you’re not going to do anything regrettable.” Andromia whispered after nearly two minutes had passed. The pressure against his face began to slack and her voice returned to its normal pitch. “You don’t have to stay but I’d prefer if you did.”

Her fingers fully left his face, and Kylo dropped her wrists. Before his right hand could fall limply at his side, Andromia caught it in her own and squeezed it tight. Just for a moment, and then let go. It was an intimate gesture. Not unlike the odd way she’d kissed his forehead earlier

Moving slowly, as if sitting down too fast would shatter whatever fragile moment had just been built, Andromia exclaimed her spot on the chaise, and Kylo began to realize just how shaken up the third person in the room was. Hux’s fear wasn’t strong, but it was there. Though it began to dissipate when the redhead seized Andromia’s nearest arm and looked over her wrist – cigarra pinched between his lips, gloved hands tracing the spot where Kylo had gripped her. The idea of those same hands pulling a blaster on him made Kylo’s anger swell. 

A steady hum of protectiveness joined Andromia’s signature, then, but she didn’t bother looking at her fellow in the Force.“I’m fine.” She insisted to the man beside her, allowing him to inspect her for damage. “He didn’t grab me that hard, and I didn’t hurt him. We’re both fine.”

Kylo’s blood ran cold. “I didn’t mean-”

“I know.” She cut him off gently, looking at him again and twisting awkwardly to let Hux inspect her other wrist as well. “I know you didn’t, and no one is going to mention this to the Supreme Leader or anyone else. You’ll be alright.”

The General scoffed, but Kylo didn’t pay it much mind. He couldn’t, not when Andromia looked at him like that. Not when she felt like that. The Knight was used to seeing kindness in her eyes, but the compassion he saw in them now – the compassion he could sense in the Force made him feel… protected.

Not wanting to separate himself from her by sitting in the armchair off to Hux’s side, and realizing there wasn’t enough room on her side of the chaise, Kylo nudged his helmet aside with his foot. No sooner had he sat on the floor than Hux, generally uncomfortable and reluctant to not have the upper hand, opened his mouth.

“Getting quite accustomed to being at her feet, are you?” 

The redhead’s verbal jab was followed by a muffled physical blow and Kylo looked up to see the aftermath of Snoke’s heir having punched the First Order’s top commander in the shoulder. The sight of their mutual disapproval of each other in that moment, plus Hux rubbing a sore deltoid, made Ren bark out a short, dry laugh. He didn’t get to enjoy their bad-blood for too long though, because then the General then took a long drag, held the smoke in his lungs for a few seconds longer than normal, and let a plume of smoke slowly escape his nostrils while he offered the cig to Andromia. Who happily took it and enjoyed a puff of her own before surrendering the cigarra back to its owner. 

Kylo watched the exchange and blinked several times. He had to be seeing things wrong. He was emotionally fatigued, and Andromia’s presence in the Force was complicated and unfamiliar. Surely those two things combined were making him jump to conclusions. Because even if he (clearly) never had a true grasp on the Proxy until a few minutes ago, he knew Hux and the General read the same as always. Conceited. Annoyed. Determined. All with that barely-there pleasure he harbored every time the Proxy was around to check their work.   

Oh. 

This whole time he thought it was a sycophantic thing. 

Hux scoffed at the look of realization on Kylo’s face. The General’s intuition really was uncanny at times. “Really, Ren?” He mocked. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like to take another five years to think it over?”

“How was I supposed to know!?”

“You have eyes, don’t you? A brain? Mystical powers? Surely any of those could have granted you insight.

Kylo opened his mouth, but didn’t get another word before Andromia interrupted their squabbling.

“How is it you two can survive a shuttle crash together but not have a civil conversation?” She asked and Hux rolled his eyes but Kylo stood, readying himself to ask permission to leave.

“Stay?” Andromia asked him once he rose to his feet. 

She wanted him there. Kylo could feel she did. So he sat back down on the floor. 

Hux clicked his tongue. “Tell me, Andy, what is it like to live another person’s dream, Andy?”

“If you keep goading him it’ll quickly become a nightmare.” The Proxy grumbled before ‘hearing’ the shortened version of her name repeated back to her through the Force. With a furrowed brow, she returned her full attention to the Knight on the floor, trying to determine if he’d accidentally sent a thought her away again. When he just kept looking up at her, she said: “A diminutive.”

“He gave you a nickname?” Kylo’s mouth still didn’t move. 

A faint smile teased her mouth and she shrugged. “I gave it to myself.”

Ren offered a small, understanding nod.With their demonstration of what a Force-only conversation actually looked like – or at least half of one, anyway – Hux resumed smoking with vigor and began to run a series of potential futures through his head.

Kylo chuckled at the sight. “What’s the matter, General? Feeling on edge?”

It took more self control than usual, but the redhead resisted blowing a cloud of smoke in the other man’s face.

“Don’t play coy, I’m well aware of how much your gift allows you to be privy to.” He mocked. “Though I can’t say I’m surprised that you would confuse contemplation for unease, seeing as you do so little of it.”

Andromia leaned against the officer, and he habitually wrapped his right arm around her. The position bared a section of skin between the edge of his glove and the sleeve of his jacket. The Proxy’s left hand came up to gently caress it.

“Can't you try to play nice with my Knight, Armitage?” 

Hux noted her casual lay to and fought the smirk that threatened to form.

She was trying to make herself their common ground. And the chance for the General to endear Ren to himself through her was too good an opportunity to pass up. Even if it felt a bit too much like something Brendol would do.

“I suppose so.” He agreed. 

Looking back on it, Armitage would scold himself for not anticipating her behavior. But in the moment he didn’t think twice of it when, with the fingers of her left hand still brushing against his pale skin, she leaned forward and sweetly pressed her right palm to Kylo’s cheek. 

Chapter Text

The Master of the Knights of Ren knew immediately that the thought wasn’t his own.

Kylo would recognize his co-commander’s pretentiousness anywhere, even if he didn’t often see the delusions in real time – the General was not what one would refer to as ‘weak minded’ – and the visualization of the redhead walking down a corridor with with both Force wielders flanking just behind him had Hux’s arrogant fingerprints all over it.

And then Andromia’s hand fell away from his face and it was gone. 

He looked at her, dumbly, and then at the man beside her. Whatever Ren had seen was not something sitting on the surface of Hux’s mind. No, a quick once over showed work, work, work like usual. That self-aggrandizing day dream had to have been buried deep. 

Yet, there wasn't any sign that the General had undergone a mental probe. Not an inkling of pain or discomfort to be found anywhere, and his emotional state wasn’t much more than the common attentiveness and confidence that the man frequently displayed. 

“He didn’t even feel it.” Kylo whispered in astonishment.

Immediately, Hux ripped himself away from Andromia like she was on fire, going so far as springing up from his seat to keep distance between them.

“How dare you let him into my head.” Outrage drew itself taut across the redhead’s body. Complete with tight fists and a set jaw, he nearly mirrored Ren’s earlier appearance – even his inflexible military posture somehow became impossibly more rigid.

“It was nothing harmful, I promise.” Hux’s nostrils flared at the woman’s attempt to pacify him. “Just a small imagining.”

“That does not make it any less of an invasion.” He ground out while trying to regain his composure and marching over to the exit. He slammed the side of his hand against the controls with more force than was necessary and repeated the action when the sliding hatch remained closed. 

“The controls aren’t going to help you.” Andromia sighed. 

Taking note of her slightly raised right hand – the thumb, index, and middle finger of which were flexed toward the bulkhead – only infuriated Hux further.

“Damn you, woman!” He snarled, and his entire body clenched for several long seconds before the excess stiffness melted away with a long, regulated exhale; as if he’d needed to release the ire physically before being able to tap into his cistern of self-control once more. When he spoke again, the sweltering madness in his voice was replaced with familiar, nearly detached, stability. “Open the door.”

Over the years, Kylo had witnessed the many, many facets of the First Order General, and he always silently admired Hux’s mastery of himself. Andromia, however, at least in this particular instance, was unimpressed. 

“Not until you listen to me!” She barked, standing and practically stepping over Kylo to move closer to the redhead. Hux took the opportunity to utilize the on-wall panel once more, but the door only rose less than half a foot before slamming back down. The screech of metal on metal made Hux step away so that he would be less tempted to try and open the hatch again. 

With an amused sound, Kylo climbed to his feet. At least he wasn’t the only one damaging the ship. 

“Is something amusing, Ren?” The General spat, and, while he would usually have a snide comment of his own, Kylo stayed quiet; putting his hands up in sarcastic surrender and sinking down to lounge along the length of the chaise. 

He had no interest in getting any more involved in this squabble than he already was. 

“I didn’t show him anything important.” Andromia reiterated, and Hux pinched the bridge of his nose with closed eyes and a sigh.“You can say that as much as you like, it may even be true. But that does not change the fact that whatever it was is not any of his business.”

“If I never taught you to keep it yourself, it would have been his business, anyway.”

The implication was clear: she was the reason he’d been afforded greater mental privacy, and therefore, she also had the right to violate it. The audacity of it made him pull out the third cigarra of the day (wasn’t this whole ‘quitting’ thing going great?) and level a glare at her. 

She stood in front of him, resolute, chin up with her hands on her hips. A bratty paragon of ‘I’m right and you're wrong’. And because he could, he openly – loudly, as she liked to put it – called her a spoiled princess in his head while he took the initial inhale; knowing one of them would pick it up. He watched the corner of her mouth twitch, while, on the lounge, Ren snickered. 

For a few minutes Hux just smoked. He enjoyed as many puffs as he could before the risk of getting ash on the carpet was too great, at which he made his way to the armchair Kylo had decided not to use earlier and tapped the cigarra over the ashtray as he sat down. Only then did Andromia move from where she’d rooted herself. Instead of going to perch on one of Hux’s armrests as she usually may have, she stood at the end of the chaise that was nearest him and looked down at Kylo expectantly. When the Knight sat up and she seated herself where his upper half had been, grabbed the back of his robes before he could get fully resituated, and pulled him back down. The sudden manhandling made Ren grunt but he didn’t fight any of it. 

Hux watched the two of them make miniscule adjustments until they almost perfectly mimicked the way himself and Andromia had been before Kylo had intruded.

Though, it certainly didn’t look, or necessarily feel, like an intrusion anymore. Not when the too-tall Knight had his head in Andromia’s lap. With his legs hanging off the opposite end and his hands folded atop his own abdomen. It was the calmest the General had ever seen him, and when delicate fingers wandered into black waves, prompting a deep sluggish sigh, Hux might have actually described Kylo as downright serene. 

He couldn’t help but marvel at how they managed it – falling into such over familiarity at the drop of a hat. It had taken Armitage decades before he’d actively embraced the idea of being anything more than professionally cordial with Andromia (his own personal hang-ups had prevented him from wanting to get close to her for the longest time) and he still wasn’t a big fan of Ren’s after the five years he’d known the man.

On the surface, it could be believed the Knight and Proxy’s involuntarily contradictory lives were what allowed them to get so comfortable with each other so suddenly. After all, there they were: Andromia Malanth, adopted for a singular purpose, gifted status and acclaim; conditioned to enjoy privileged abandonment under the pretense of freedom. And Kylo Ren, born into dueling legacies, burdened by stigma and condemnation; taught to suffer gilded micromanagement excused as tutelage. 

Their experiences were polar, and as the saying goes, opposites attract. But Hux knew it went deeper than that. He knew that there were a million little things pulling them together and pushing them apart all at the same time. He knew that, at their cores, Kylo and Andromia were the same thing: Monsters.

Lucky for Armitage, he wasn't scared of such things. At least not as much as he should be. Pondering why that was threatened to cause more introspection than the General wanted to deal with, so he took to thinking about why the Supreme Leader had never tried to push the two Force users together instead. Which was a question that, over on the chaise, Ren knew the answer to. He didn't know he knew it, but he knew it all the same, because he was very aware that what he was doing completely went against the tenets and training of his Master.

Bloodlust, aggression, wrath, those were the things he was supposed to be embracing. Not the peace he felt while some woman played with his hair. Well, not peace entirely, because peace was a lie. He was still frustrated about having lost the map and he still wanted Skywalker dead, but they were easier to deal with at the moment.

And Kylo knew Andromia was even more content than he was because he could sense it from her. But her Darkness was so much more robust than his was, so clearly he didn’t need to be dialed up to eleven every minute of every day to embrace the Dark Side. Then again, he didn’t know what it took for her to be able to jump over the edge and harness that blackness, so maybe he did have to push himself into experiencing nothing but vile awfulness until he could get there.

Thinking about it made Kylo sigh and shut his eyes. It would be easier when they got back to Starkiller. When Snoke was available to tell him what to do and how to feel. 

After a long while, the fingers in Kylo’s hair stopped moving. When he opened his eyes again to find Andromia watching Hux, he tilted his head backwards against her lap and followed her line of sight. The General was going to leave soon – the intent was there, easily perceptible – but was enjoying the last few puffs of his cigarra before he did. Hux’s own head was leaning back against the top of the armchair, green eyes closed. Kylo preferred his co-commander like this; quiet. Or at least focused on something besides nitpicking every little thing he did wrong. 

While they watched Hux finish his cigarra, Kylo could feel the vein of passion that thrummed within Andromia, slow and steady. It was a Dark emotion he knew, but didn’t come across as the overwhelming storm he’d come to associate with the Dark Side. Hers was hazy and graceful, like the smoke that seeped from the redhead’s parted lips and swirled into the air. 

When Armitage stood, with both of them watching him, he wasn’t quite sure how to feel about it. He’d wanted the bratty Force user tamed for five years now and the more he actually witnessed it, the more uncanny it became. Something about Kylo Ren being so docile felt terribly wrong, and yet…So so so right. 

Which was certainly something that needed to be examined further. Preferably at a time when he didn’t have two repair mandates to file. He looked at Andromia and, after she gave the smallest nod, re-adopted his upstanding propriety. Already stern shoulders squared themselves. His hands clasped behind his back. And, if only to remind them of the reality of things, Hux offered a courteous nod of his own, followed by a polite, “Lady Malanth” and then a slightly flatter, “Ren” before turning on his heel. 

The door opened for him, squealing on its track, and by the time it closed, Kylo was snickering softly to himself. Not just about the damage to the hatch, but about the wildness of the whole day. That mirth threatened to drain from him, though, when he was hit with the reality that he was alone with Andromia. Things hadn’t gone so well for him the last time that happened.

Noting the shift in him, she leaned forward, all gentle eyes and a kind smile, with ashen brown hair falling down to curtain around them. It was far from the first time they’d made eye contact over the years – Hell, it wasn’t even the first time they’d made eye contact that day, but in that moment, sitting alone and knowing that whatever they were feeling and sensing was unmarred by the presence of a third party or masked signatures or the enforcement of propriety and titles…

It was like seeing each other for the first time. 

“You’re safe.” Andromia promised in a whisper.

Kylo let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. 

Neither of them knew who had the intention first, but he moved up and she dipped down; meeting in the middle for a, far less than chaste, kiss.

Chapter Text

Despite the brothels Kylo visited and the socialites Andromia took to bed, neither of them had ever experienced carnality on equal grounds. There were too few Force users in the galaxy to allow them the chance. Even the Knights of Ren – who the Proxy wouldn’t touch with a ten foot pole, and Kylo tried his best not to be adulterous with – were only sensitives. Not true wielders.

It granted Snoke’s Heir and Apprentice an eternal upper hand regarding their own separate, more worldly, endeavors. So when otherwise familiar territory was explored together, they were unprepared for just how different it would be and how easily things could escalate.

That first kiss itself hadn’t been anything overly remarkable in terms of physicality. Parted mouths and moving lips didn’t lend any innocence, sure. But there was no great vulgarity there either. And the general act of kissing and being kissed – no matter how special or enjoyable – wasn’t necessarily new. What was new, and far more intimate, was the ouroboros-esque behavior adopted by their Force signatures.

Such a thing far surpassed how either was used to reading the other; or anyone else, for that matter. Andromia’s needs became Kylo’s needs. His wants became her wants. Their emotions blended and billowed and fed off each other. Anticipation. Desire. Impatience. No matter what the feeling was, it was experienced jointly and pushed the pair along at an alarming rate. 

Kylo’s clothes came off first. At least some of them. His gloves, initially. Followed by his battleworn cowl and long tabard. In between each article, his mouth met Andromia’s again and again. Stealing or accepting hurried and broken kisses so he could maneuver out of whichever layer was next. Whether it was her insistence or his own, he didn’t know, but the Force was filled with heated intent and a demand for less clothes and more touch. Touch which, once the Knight’s body was bared to her, Andromia would be happy to reciprocate. Not that she indicated as much by slipping off the couch while Kylo pulled his heavy tunic over his head. 

Unsurprisingly reluctant to allow any real space between them, he got to his feet as soon as the shirt was off. A grip on the back of her neck and a thumb pressed under the curve of her jaw dragged the Proxy’s mouth roughly back to his. Then, her hands began to explore. Smooth palms caressed toned obliques and curved biceps. Delicate fingertips pressed into muscled shoulders. Manicured nails scraped against flecked skin. When Kylo, with his lips on her neck and a strong arm wrapped around her, began to herd Andromia backwards, she clung to him. Shuffling along, and wrapped up in such shared eagerness, it was a miracle he found the seam on the back of her dress in the first place. Not to mention the wherewithal to unzip it. Persistence, however – for the Knight, at least – never equated to patience. After the tab got stuck a third of the way down he gripped an open edge in either hand and pulled. The harsh sound of layered fabric being ripped apart didn’t deter either of them, and getting Andromia out of her sleeves was easy, but that black, opulent outfit pooling around her feet brought the couple to heel for the first time since their initial kiss.

They took the chance to, not only feel, but to see. To authenticate what the Force was telling them and appreciate what their partner looked like before they gave in and swallowed the other person whole. Admittedly, they weren’t disappointed. Neither could catch their breath due to their restlessness, and interest painted itself across kissed-red lips and pink cheeks. Hands, unwilling to fall away from where they’d settled, were anchored with want. If either of them thought they were reading too much into the situation – or had suffered a stroke that affected their ability to read the Force – the clear, physical indicators assuaged their doubts. Especially the collective hunger found in each other’s eyes. 

So often, those ‘windows to the soul’ were utilized for work within the Force. Holding another’s gaze gave a wielder more power to intimidate, to influence, to understand. Though, at that moment, even a non-sensitive would be able to read Kylo and Andromia like a pair of spine-broken books. With pale irises being little more than frosty halos pulled thin around blown pupils, the Knight’s own near-onyx eyes mimicked the vast expanse of space – becoming impossibly darker when Andromia stepped out of her shoes.

He knew she wore heels and didn’t even consider her tall with them on. Yet, something about having the woman sink down three inches – with the top of her head settling around his chin – made Kylo crave her more. Strong, sweeping arms scooped her up and he stepped over her discarded items. In his carry, the Proxy pulled him into a tongue-filled kiss. One dangling foot kicked the in-wall control panel once they neared the door, and the ‘whoosh’ of an opening bulkhead, as well as the people coming through it, woke the TC unit from low-power mode. Before it could so much as greet them, Kylo’s hand sent the droid sliding out of the room with a flick of his fingers. A similar gesture shut the hatch behind them.  

Gownless though she was, Andromia, ever the aristocrat, remained significantly clothed. She was really meant to be unwrapped rather than torn into. A notion that struck Kylo when he set her down near the foot of the bed. He could temporarily forgive her underwear and the midline bustier, but not those stockings – thigh-high and well-woven to protect against the climate controlled chill of the Finalizer. At another time, he may see them as something alluring. In that particular instance, however, they were offensive. Nothing more than another layer hiding her from him, and when sprawling hands held her hips, they tensed. Not from nervousness, but in an attempt to shore up his miniscule reserve of self-control.

The safety of her clothes was not something Andromia was overly invested in. Nor was her soon-to-be lover’s newfound restraint. To spur him on, her mouth left his. Wet, messy kisses trailed across Kylo’s jaw and down his neck. Her lips didn’t press hard enough to bruise but they were far from gentle and, with the incorporeal cycle of give and take, roughness begot roughness. Andromia had a fuller figure than the sleek black, First Order aligned regalia let on, and plump flesh dimpled beneath Kylo’s digging fingers. Her whole body was soft and undefined. A bountiful temple built upon a lavish life of never having to go without or endure militaristic training. It lent a certain air of benevolence to the Proxy. One that was betrayed by the taunt she whispered against Kylo’s skin. 

“Don’t get gentle with me now.” 

Kylo couldn’t match her quietness. “I don’t want to hurt you,” He said, knowing it wasn’t true but half-wanting it to be. 

Like everything else, their ethereal shadows had grown and bled into each other. Dark tendrils were swollen with toxic urges, poking and prodding the pair of Force users to Take. Claim. Destroy. Twenty-plus years of Light influence stopped Kylo from giving in. Even with their compounding signatures, Andromia couldn’t share his reservation. Her soul had tasted it and spat it out, labeling the sensation a threat to her higher self. She would never be afraid of the Darkness within herself or others, her upbringing had ensured it. That same upbringing – a childhood spent getting everything she wanted but little of what she needed – was also the reason she’d adhered to the Knight so quickly. It had turned her into a food-aggressive hound, quick to bite and unwilling to forfeit an already stripped bone. Kylo’s own emotional illiteracy might be his downfall. He might chip and splinter, and tear her apart from the inside out. But she’d tolerate it just for the sake of having him. 

Whether it was shaped by Dark cravings or the cracks in her heart, Andromia’s lie rose to meet Kylo’s. “You can’t. 

To her partner, the Proxy’s volleyed dishonesty was a mercy. It accepted the monster in front of her without reminding him he was one. Kylo’s shallow well of temperance began to drain, and a single handed shove sent Andromia backwards. 

The force of it made her bounce against the mattress, stalling her ability to get up on her elbows. By the time she did, one stocking was already gone and the other was halfway off. No sooner had it joined its partner – a stringy run marring the length of it – than Kylo was propping his right foot against the lip of the bed frame. Andromia was happy to ogle him, even if he was fumbling with the ungodly amount of buckles on his boot. An endeavor that did not get any easier when she maneuvered onto her knees, reached behind her back, and began to undo the line of clasps there; opening the bustier from bottom to top. She wasn’t far away. No more than four feet in front of him. But he had more than half a mind to use the Force and pull her closer. He’d require one hand for that, of course. And somehow he’d wrestled the right boot off rather quickly, so there wasn’t much point in giving up on the other one. 

Then Andromia shrugged forward and the supportive garment fell away. Without the foundation of cloth and underwire, her breasts hung against her rib cage. Like the rest of her, they were rounded and voluminous. Not dissimilar to an ancient fertility statue Kylo was sure he’d seen somewhere. 

Left boot be damned. 

He raised his right hand and the Proxy began to slide toward him. After a few inches, though, she stopped. He knew he was still pulling – albeit not very strongly – but she remained unmoving all the same; sat back on her heels with one arm braced in front of her. He tugged harder through the Force and her body jolted forward a little more. Halting once again with her free hand joining the first in splaying against the mattress. Her breasts jostled from the stop-and-go. The eroticism of which was wasted on the Knight, lost as he was in the determination shining in Andromia’s eyes. The mischief too. Kylo began pulling with fervor, looking for further clues and seeing how undefined muscles started to truly flex. Beneath her palms, the smooth blankets weren’t nearly rumpled enough for the effort she was displaying. 

Of course. The mattress itself wasn’t her breaking mechanism, the Force was. How could he have forgotten? They were operating on a leveled playing field.

A smirk tugged at the corner of Andromia’s mouth. She licked her lower lip and caught it between her teeth. 

She wasn’t just playing, she was challenging him. 

Kylo chose to forfeit their game of tug-of-war. The woman canted backwards from the sudden lack of opposing force. For a split second, they stared at each other. Not like the earlier appraisal they’d engaged in while standing over a destroyed dress. No, now they looked at each other like animals. Predators. 

While they sized each other up, Andromia’s fingers twitched. The room echoed with a metallic ‘twang’ as the still-closed buckles on Kylo’s boot broke. Looking back, he wouldn’t be able to recall taking the shoe off, or throwing it so roughly over his shoulder that it hit the closed door. He would remember their metaphysical feed-back loop starting to get overwhelming. Enthusiasm, confidence, lust – along with Darker, more beastly things – all growing exponentially. Rational thought left him when Andromia fed his demons and her own with one silent, projected sentence.

“If you want me, come and get me.”

It happened so fast: climbing onto bed, knocking her backward against the pillows, grabbing the sides of her underwear and pulling them down her legs so forcefully that it dragged her closer to him. Yet somehow, once his pants were off, the Knight found himself under her. On his back, with Andromia’s bare chest pressed against his. It would have been so much easier to finish stripping if her knees weren’t straddling his hips, but he managed. 

Between the surmounting intangible sensations, and the effort of wrestling his underwear off his body, the brushing scrape of teeth against his throat felt faint. However, those same teeth sinking into the junction of his shoulder honed his consciousness. In an instant, he rolled over, swapping their positions once again. Even without the Force he could have held her down, but he didn’t. Not yet. He let Andromia tangle her hand in his hair and drag him down into a kiss. One that, while already rough and bruising, turned more combative by him pinching her lower lip between his teeth. She retaliated by raking her nails along his sides

They both reveled in not having to hold back. In the biting and scratching – the battle of it. Deep within each of them, nestled amongst the Darkness coating their bones, there would always be violence. For the first time in their lives they had the chance to explore a hidden facet of it with someone of equal caliber, and neither had any interest in playing fair. 

An upward motion of Andromia’s hips caught Kylo’s hard-on between their bodies. The sudden pressure made his head sag, freeing her from the stinging kiss. In its wake, she tried to sit up, to turn the tables. But her victory was short-lived. A hand far larger than her own settled around the base of her neck and kept her pinned. Though, there was no real pressure in those grasping fingers. 

Kylo’s soul didn’t itch to punctuate their time together the way Andromia’s did, with etched red lines and blossoming purple bruises. Rather, his dominance manifested in the form of a threatening reminder: The Knight was bigger than her. Stronger. He could and would hold her down by the throat while they did this, and unless she used the Force – and was therefore willing to risk either cowing Kylo again or further damaging the ship – she didn’t stand a chance of overpowering him. Not that Andromia was interested in grappling with him anymore, physically or otherwise. The feel of him rutting against her saw to that.  

Pushing his cock against her soft thigh tore a moan from Kylo’s lips. It was an airy sound with how breathless he was from everything, as was the noise she made when his pleasure bled into her through the Force. The throaty hum that escaped her afterwards was more solid, and stemmed from a different kind of satisfaction.

Andromia found Kylo refreshing. Her standing within the First Order made people tiptoe around her. Bedmates included. Even Armitage, with his high rank and lofty sense of self-worth, fucked her with a modicum of caution. Like she was breakable – like she was Snoke’s Daughter, the sane part of her mind filled in – and not an archetype of power. Then again, she also treated the General as something to be appreciated rather than conquered. So maybe it went both ways.

Kylo’s hold on her migrated. He gripped the underside of her mandible and pressed his fingers into the muscle of her jaw to manipulate her head, tilting her face until their gazes were securely locked.

“You’re thinking about Hux?” The words, unintentionally thickened by arousal, were laced with indignant poison.

Whether she’d merely projected her passing thought about the redhead or tossed some memory of her own into Kylo’s mind, Andromia couldn’t tell. Either way, it wasn’t on purpose. The stifling blanket of their signatures made it difficult to keep her innerworkings to herself. But the Knight didn’t need to know that. She dug her nails into his back and wickedly decided to play the hand she’d accidentally dealt herself.

 “Give me a reason not to.”

Something happened, then, in Kylo. A change. A shift. It wasn’t the look in his eye that gave it away or the growl that rumbled his throat. Not even the tightening grip on her face. No, Andromia felt it in the plume of raw Darkness staining the Force. A cold, engulfing viciousness muddying the bright, hot emotions of the moment without washing them away. It was not dissimilar to the ferocity he’d harnessed during the pilot’s interrogation, and nearly identical to when he attacked the Lieutenant. 

Andromia had been guiding him to that precipice since they entered the bedroom, and now, stuck beneath his body, she watched her partner fall into the pit.

Finally.

She jumped in with him.

Unlike when Kylo’s evilness reared its head earlier that same day, her own Darkness didn’t rise against his. It fused with it. The dampness between her thighs wasn’t a true indication of Andromia’s readiness, but the Knight didn’t care. The Dark Side didn’t care. There was no preamble or warning besides what could be sussed out through shared intention, and he forced himself inside of her with a brutal thrust. Then another, and another. It was feral and cruel and her cunt didn’t just ache, it burned. Andromia’s breath caught in her lungs, rendering her mute, but the sounds Kylo made were more animal than human, thanks to his natural baritone. He was moaning and panting, burying his cock in wet heat. The woman’s body had gone tense from the intrusion, causing her to tighten around him and elevating an already decadent friction. 

Their entangled presence within the Force gorged itself. Kylo’s pleasure was swallowed up by Andromia. Her pain shot through him like a blaster bolt with each thrust. Each’s experience tempered that of the other, and the pair suffered and savored together in a precarious balance. The dichotomy of it kept them surprisingly grounded. Right up until the Proxy’s body grew accustomed to the Knight’s length and girth and savagery, and that sour note of torment evaporated. 

After that, the entire Universe was lost to them.

Everything they felt within and around each other congealed into a singular driving force. The ecstasy. The barbarity. The impulse to dominate and subdue. The passion. It was impossible to sort it all out. Something in the room broke under their influence. A lamp, maybe. Or perhaps a mirror. Whatever it was, they’d find out later – after they finished. A goal that seemed to chase them more than they chased it. 

Descending upon them too quickly for the sex itself to actually be relished, their crescendos occurred in stereo. Neither knew who came first – or if their orgasm was genuinely physical or induced by cannibalizing signatures – but they were satisfied all the same, and so was the Dark Side. 

Panting, Kylo rolled off Andromia. They both felt lost and far away while their souls rejoined their bodies. He was the first to stop gazing up at the ceiling and flopped his head sideways to look at the woman he’d just, what? Raped? Fucked? Made love to? None of those sounded accurate, and yet they all did. The Proxy’s chest was heaving. Her hair was frizzy and tangled where the now ruined half-up style had been rubbed against the bedding. There was a fading pink halo around her neck with smaller, redder points on her face from where he’d grabbed her. They didn’t look like they’d bruise, Kylo hoped. As he regained himself, he had the decency to feel guilty about what he’d done. He hadn’t meant to hurt her (for the second time), or at least, the human part of him hadn’t.

“Do I feel like someone who didn’t have a good time?” Andromia asked with a hollow, forced laugh. 

Feel, she’d said, because regardless of the increasing placidity of her Force presence, she had a good idea of what she looked like. Disarranged and vacant. Not in the fun, ‘blissfully-fucked’ way one might see in a holoporn, but in a ‘just returned from war’ type of way. She assumed Kylo appeared more or less the same. 

Rolling to face him after he sighed out an “I guess not” simultaneously proved and disproved that theory. She hummed, sweet and amused; finding it much easier to recover from their clearing tempest than the man beside her. When she sat up, he propped himself on the pillows. 

“What?” He asked while she otherwise silently examined him, and the Proxy answered with a kiss. It was quick and comfortable; the type of peck on the lips one might share with a long-time partner. Kylo found it comforting. Her fingers gingerly stroking the toothy blotch developing within the crook of his neck helped soothe him further. Pride stippled itself across Andromia’s Force signature. 

“You are-” She started.

Kylo cut her off. “Injured?” He offered. Which is not inaccurate, but not what she was going for. 

“A wonder.” The Proxy amended. 

That correction helped Kylo realize that what he sensed from Andromia wasn’t just pridefulness. There was another kind of satisfaction folded into it. One lacking an aura of superiority, indicating that, while she may be experiencing the emotion, it had nothing to do with her. A warmth blossomed in his chest. Those dark brown eyes, so endearingly vulnerable when Kylo wasn’t on a warpath, widened a little more than is usual. 

She wasn’t just proud of herself, she was proud of him. When it came to how people viewed or felt about Kylo, he was far more accustomed to picking up on a lack of disappointment rather than the presence of something truly complimentary. So he, unsure how to react or what to do with the hot fuzzy feeling in his torso, floundered. 

Andromia was kind enough not to point at the way his mouth opened and then closed, while he  struggled, and failed, to determine if he was supposed to thank her or say something nice in return. Instead, she brushed some hair out of his face and kissed his hairline, ignoring the sheen of sweat beneath her lips and granting him the privacy of personal space afterward. Kylo shifted to watch her slip off the bed and walk to the closet. Seeing her like that, still naked and with her back to him, allowed him to better admire her curvaceousness, and the casualness of it helped level him out. 

Much like his own wardrobe, her choices were full of black. Though, there were a few pops of color here and there, and she slipped a burgundy dressing gown away from where it hung and onto her body. A thick satin sash cinched her waist and, for a moment, Kylo felt out of place. The length and layers of Andromia’s robe paid homage to the opulence of the Empire. Something which left the Knight feeling even more exposed than he already was. Another silken robe landed on his lap. A much simpler, shorter gray one. Officer’s standard, if the First Order insignia on the sleeve was anything to go by. 

Kylo knew why the Proxy had an officer’s robe in her quarters, however that reason didn’t bother him as much as he thought it should, which he didn’t have the brain power to reflect on. Trying to settle back into a true sense of self was difficult enough without dwelling on the idea that he was wearing another man's clothes. But as Andromia rounded to the vanity, and he put the robe on without getting off the bed, his curiosity and impulsivity got the better of him before he could stop them.

“This is Hux’s, isn’t it?”Facing away from him, Andromia paused. He could see part of her face in the mirror – which apparently had not broken – and determined that her expression was one of contemplation rather than surprise. 

“No.” She said after a few seconds and removed the long hairpin that had managed to keep her half up-do mostly in place.

“I thought you two were…” Kylo fluttered a hand, that Andromia couldn’t see, in the air while she ran a comb through her hair. “...You know.”

“And just what-” Turning around, she stopped short. She cocked her head to the side and her brows drew together for a split second before relaxing. The Knight looked behind him to see what could have possibly caught her attention and realized the hefty, once smooth, veneer of the dark headboard was full of webbing cracks, resembling a dropped datapad. He made a sound of appreciation. 

Discovering the broken item could have easily fueled the topic at hand but Andromia abandoned it. She let Kylo admire what would no doubt be a costly repair – or replacement –  and twirled her long hair up into a bun. She used the same hairpin to secure it and did a quick once over in the mirror. The style wasn’t neat or elegant, but it would do. Kylo’s eyes found her when she began to head to the door, and she sensed his intent to get up. 

“Why don’t you take a few minutes to settle, hmm?” She suggested and opened the hatch. Kylo was given a kind smile before she turned her full attention to the door control and set it to remain raised. “I’ll be right back.”

Kylo found himself extra thankful for the robe when waddling chrome made its way past the open bulkhead, crossing behind Andromia on her way to the refresher. He had marks, and only time would tell if his bedmate would be bruise-free, but at least TC-525 remained unscathed.

In an ongoing attempt to relax, the Knight leaned back against the pillows. His hands leisurely met behind his head and his eyes followed the trail of clothes connecting the two rooms. His pants. Her bustier. His boot. Her shredded dress. His helmet. Their gloves. And on the chaise itself, with the outermost layers of his battle-ready outfit, sat the wide belt of his tabard; lightsaber still attached. It painted quite the picture. 

He sunk into the bedding with an arrogant smirk. He was a man after all, and regardless of the circumstances he just got laid.

‘By the most powerful woman in the Galaxy,’ his ego added, sounding a little too much like Han. 

A nauseating mental blend of Snoke and Skywalker bubbled up to nip Kylo’s self-worth in the bud. ‘And what do you have to show for it?’ He could hear both mentors hiss at him. ‘Marks and fleeting satisfaction? She’s not yours to enjoy!’

He audibly scoffed at the last part. Not only was it asinine, the reminder was unnecessary. Andromia was the Supreme Leader’s Heir – the future head of the First Order. Of course she wasn’t his. How could she be? Nothing else was. Not the roof over his head. Not the food he ate. Not the air he breathed. It all belonged to someone else. Even his own existence! 

Luke had seen to that personally.

Kylo may have survived that Maker-forsaken night, but his uncle took his life all the same. He felt the Jedi’s hooks in him every day. He’d endured years, YEARS of Dark Side training and the Light that Skywalker planted still wouldn’t go away! It devastated Kylo. Rendered him worthless to his current Master and made him weak in the ways of the Force. He wanted it gone!

He wasn’t sure how long it had been or when he’d started looking at the ceiling again, but when the bathroom door opened, Kylo recognized the sight of hazy durasteel. He was quick to press away the unshed tears with the heel of his hand.

“So much doom and gloom.” Andromia casually noted from across the suite. Kylo checked her signature for judgment – or joy in his suffering – but found none. Her presence had almost completely reverted to what it was before their little escapade, with simmering happiness and compassion, and other things speckling it here and there. But most importantly, he could still feel her. She hadn’t devolved to that thick penumbra of temperance.

With his eyes still fixed upward, he heard her ask: “Are you doing alright, sweetheart?”

Sweetheart. Kylo let the word bounce around his insides before it settled behind his ribs, tucked alongside the you’re safe she’d blessed him with earlier. 

‘That’s what I have to show for it,’ a voice that finally sounded like his own told him, ‘someone who might actually care.’