04. mental link

[exhuxperation]

COMMAND over oneself and others	AMBITION nothing will stand in my way
ORDER chaos will not be tolerated	MANY over the individual

( CODE BY WHAMBAM )

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[narcissithstic]

[Even with the name he once held reduced to ash, even with his would-be father scattered amongst the wreckage of Starkiller, he finds himself exactly where he stood as a child. As a teenager, crushed and ashamed and simultaneously filled with an understanding of what he should have known from the start: he trusted his mother and yet she abandoned him, lied to him, only to have the truth slam home-- that he was the grandson of Darth Vader-- slipped out from someone else's mouth in passing. The Senate in an uproar.

How little she thought of him - how little they both did, his parents.]

If not for you, General, I would never have remembered my purpose.

[exhuxperation]

[ (Something he doesn't know to vocalize yet—there isn't a way to outrun the past, even if it burned to the ground or scattered to the wind).

They both have their paths which have led them here. Perhaps not the circumstance he wouldn't be seen coming, but this is where they stand nonetheless. Hux keeps his gaze on Ren, waiting for anything to tell him what he's getting at. His conversation with Sam had gone a route he hadn't anticipated and now they're both dealing with the aftermath. Mentally, he corrects his own course for the future. Ren might not be his favorite person to work with, but he understands him easier than the rest.

(And sometimes he does think about how he'd be, honed like a fine blade). ]

Which is? [ It likely won't be a good answer. Ren's tone doesn't indicate this will be an easy response to hear. ]

[narcissithstic]

Order.

[So simple a concept. His compass when all else has fallen into tumultuous strife - pressed down into his palms by Snoke's own hand and the only thing that kept him sane throughout the pain, the misery of betrayal and heartbreak. Ren might as well be wearing his mask for how little his expression lets slip.] I allowed my focus to falter.

[The Light, corrupting in its reach, too easily blinding once it takes hold, had once again sunk its teeth into his flesh while his guard was lowered. Without Snoke present to act as a buffer, it was only a matter of time.

Ren's eyeline drifts, darting briefly downwards as if evaluating the man before him as his chin tips that much higher, vitriol boiling across the edge of his tongue.] And I doubt you realized it when you attempted to leash me, but I have your duplicity to thank for undoing the symbiote's work.

[exhuxperation]

[ Isn't this what he spoke about with Sam? That Ren still follows the precepts of the First Order– or rather, at least believes in bringing organization to the chaos around them? This is a thin line, has been for a while, but even more so as he stares up at Ren's expression, so devoid of anything. It reminds Hux of watching oncoming storms from the windows of the academy on Arkanis. Dark, looming.

(Eventually it will pass).

As with all of their interaction, he isn't afraid. No matter how much Ren rages underneath his skin (he has the same if not more).

Hux stands up abruptly, mouth pressed in a thin line, posture rigid. They should want the same thing. This has been the problem since the beginning– Hux has had order impressed upon him since he was a child. Ren? Ren wants order? How is this even close to it, how can't he see the other side? Order doesn't sit in his veins, pressed in even to the point of pain. ]

Order. [ His fingers curl into fists at his sides, the word setting him over the edge. ] Is that what you really want? Have you considered, for a moment, that maybe your broodmates want the same thing?

[ The whole, over the individual. ]

There's no hiding what happened on Avera. Nor should they suffer with the lack of knowledge just because you won't communicate with them. [ It's taken him this long to even garner some semblance of understanding. ]

This might come as a surprise, but none of us want to control you, Kylo Ren, because only fools assume they could do any such thing. You can destroy things with little more than a blink and it took less than five minutes for you to decimate that idiot merchant's guards–

[ And he's personally felt it, in that room when Ren showed him the Finalizer, hanging in his head. The alusteel walls, the sound of Phasma's walk. He bites down on it; Ren had driven the knife into his ribs on their first day, he's returning the favor. ]

–don't you think that might make people question your actions?

[narcissithstic]

[His lip curls, nostrils flaring in an instant - the pivotal turning point punctuating that painfully thin edge Hux is daring to tread. One step, two, and he's closing the distance with oppressive purpose.]

You give them too much credit.

[He does not flinch. He does not blink. In spite of knowing better, pain boils beneath his skin, welling like a blister and the only balm left to him is to share it, to lash out and sink his teeth into vulnerable flesh rather than suffer alone.] Rogers is a frail, broken excuse for a soldier - and yet you cling to him.

[Hux, a man praised for his ability to withdraw into objective, tactical thought, doting on a replacement for what's been lost.] He will disappoint you.

[exhuxperation]

[ This is what he's expected. A return to the norm– sniping at each other is what they know. Has been their habit off and on for the entire time they've worked together.

Hux merely stares up into Ren's face as he steps closer, crowding his space. Ren's not much taller than him but his presence is a storm cloud; dark, dangerous, flashing. He can feel the loop of emotion coming off of him, anger and pain mixed. It knifes through at his words, a reminder of what he's lost.

(And he's lost so much).

He wants so much to spill his words out, an eye for an eye. They said they wouldn't do this, but nothing could stop the self-injury. Swallowing his retort, he looks down and away, an uncharacteristic submission. There's so much he could say, can feel it filling his chest like water in the lungs. ]

Are we going to do this again? [ A strange exhaustion creeps in, everything seeming like more effort than it was worth. ]

[narcissithstic]

[Hux is resigned, capable and dedicated in ways even the most devoted lieutenants could only dream of; Ren doesn't expect to be struck with backlash for his thrashing, desperate blows, but he expects the General's submission even less so. It stills him, stops him in his tracks and cuts the connection to that fevered rage. In its absence, the wounds feel deeper somehow - shame boring in right down to the frailness of his bones, as fresh as the painful snap of Cathaway closing the connection between them.

She hasn't bothered to so much as think of him since.]

No.

[His cheeks prickle with heat, eyes glassy when he drops the set of his stare to mask the fact.

He didn't come here to wage war.]

[exhuxperation]

[ He's devoted to whatever cause he sets his sights on. Currently, he's in flux; his allegiances are not easily swayed. However, he still holds tight to the sense of order, no matter where he is. If that means he has to let down his guard in some cases, then so be it. Their previous argument had been nightmarish and he'd rather not backslide when he made a promise. ]

Ren.

[ Hux never expected to be put in this position. To be simultaneously brandishing a weapon as much as he was trying to dull the blow. His anger seems to dissipate in the face of Ren's emotional sway. ]

You'll get the power you seek. It just may not come from the source you expect.

[ Most things rarely pan out as intended. ]

[narcissithstic]

[There's only a brief moment where Ren's glance lifts long enough to meet Hux's before the line of his profile shifts— angles towards his shoulder, then away to some distant point. His footsteps follow, leading him forward to pace aimlessly around the far edge of the room.

Hux meant the words as a comfort, Ren knows as much - but it feels so stale in his stomach. A sick and withered promise, tainted by every prior interaction that's fallen disappointingly short of the mark.]

Did you know my grandfather is here? [His chest is tight; breathing comes as a strain in light of it, and he wonders if it's somehow a psychosomatic response borne of burying the truth for so long.] Aboard the station.

[exhuxperation]

[ Tension had been just on the edge of uncomfortable, before. Now it's replaced by a sense of uneasiness—Ren's gaze is distant, hard to read. Hux doesn't think he's really seen him like this before. He does, then, what he knows best and waits it out. Eventually, Ren will speak up.

And he does, though it's not a question he'd necessarily seen coming. ]

Anakin. [ Not a query, more of a settling of fact. Everything had been pointing at some strained relationship but he hadn't asked. Whatever was personal to Ren was going to remain that way unless he felt like divulging. Which he is now, even if Hux isn't sure where he's going with this. ]

[narcissithstic]

Darth Vader. [Not Anakin Skywalker, he thinks bitterly, remembering the softness of Anakin's stare as he gazed at Ahsoka. Muddied memories, glimpses in the dark. Only the bruising that had wound itself round Ren's own throat was a promise that beneath the twisted ideals of the Jedi, darkness still lingers.

That there's still a chance to save the man from himself.

Ren's footsteps slow, then still - he stands with his back to Hux, not wanting to meet his companion's stare as realization takes hold.]

[exhuxperation]

[ Abruptly, things seem to fall into place. Clicks in as neatly as the last piece of a puzzle fitting together. Hux had only moderately been interested in Ren's obsession with Darth Vader, but had written it off as a quirk. Just like everything else he did, really. But now, it makes sense.

And it feels like part of his stomach drops out at the realization.

Not because of Vader's legacy– not quite. Of course it's quite the revelation. Vader had been there at the top when the Empire was at its strongest. Alongside Palpatine. Ruling with an iron fist, their influence ran far and wide. It's what he's been aspiring to make happen again, under the banner of the First Order. In a way, it's Ren and his ambitions aligning. Running their parallels closer together than he ever expected.

They both have legacies to live up to. Shoes that he sometimes thinks will never be filled. ]

Expectation will crush you– [ us ] –if you don't keep a clear head.

[narcissithstic]

'A clear head'. [Ren echoes back with a pointed scoff, so close to laughing that even with his back turned it seems like he might. The General is processing information as best as he can, but there's nothing so obvious in that moment as the fact that Hux's perspective is drastically skewed.

They shared thoughts. The pain of an overblown connection and the ever-warring turmoil of the Force itself— Hux might not have intended to underline the very crux of the problem, but he managed it regardless.]

You know as well as I do that's impossible.

[Otherwise Luke Skywalker would have succeeded so long ago. Even Cathaway makes no attempts to directly ease the dogged agony of his existence.]

[exhuxperation]

[ Maybe he's looking at this too optimistically. Which, for him, is rather strange. Always prepare for the worst– though he supposes that "worst" is in constant flux when it comes to dealing with Kylo Ren.

Though, as much as he dislikes the connection they have here, it's showing its usefulness. He can tell he's hit a nerve. Not something that usually brings about a conversation that's seemingly so docile. Hux has used sharp words to drive a point home, to join in on what he now knows is Ren's own internal dialogue of disappointment. This is something he understands so clearly that the scoff from a moment ago feels appropriate. How absurd. ]

Is it really? [ A serious question. He's on the precipice of a decision, one he rationalizes could be effective here, even if it's personal. Hux glances away, but his concentration is bent towards Ren; there isn't one image he focuses on, but the underlying rush.

Fear of disappointment (his father frowning, words not even necessary for how his displeasure rolls off him–)

Inadequacy; (–starkiller is crumbling and all he can focus on ghosts of words telling him of course he wasn't to succeed–)

Too many moments flicker by, (this rank is never enough, never), a result of not enough training, before he manages to bring them to a halt. Gaze turning to Ren's back, he's tense. ]

You showed me the Finalizer from how many galaxies away, Ren. How is this more impossible than that?

[narcissithstic]

Memories, Hux. Ghosts, reflections of the truth— what I showed you exists because the Finalizer existed, not because I took you there. [If he strains with everything he has he might eventually scrape up fragments of the Outer Rim at best: unfocused little scraps of thought, like glitched code or the hissing static of a failed transmission. The cost would be unfathomable. His mind would suffer, his body might weaken for it; if the Supreme Leader himself can't manage it, Ren knows better than to leap forwards towards that risk as he is now.

He turns, expression set and unflinching, stare fixed.] Through the Force, all things are possible.

[That much he agrees on.] But the Force wages war within me - the symbiote fights its hold. I feel all of it and it takes all of me to control it.

The only time it eases is when I sleep in the Nesting Deck.

[More than he's ever known since birth.] I will never have a clear mind—

But you can, General.

[exhuxperation]

[ When Ren turns to him, he doesn't flinch in the face of the intensity. They've been eye to eye on much worse occasions, it will take more than this to make him feel uncomfortable. Though, that's not necessarily what's happening now, between the two of them. Hux had merely meant to extend something like an olive branch. Peace over their chaotic arguments that didn't seem to get them anywhere.

Now– now he's not sure what turned, but it's changed.

Never mind that the Finalizer hadn't been real (it felt it, memory or not). What he hones in on is the control, the focus. He'd felt all of it vibrating along his nerves when Ren had shown him what it felt like. All that power, set loose with will alone. He believes it's a struggle at the same time he knows that all things can be carved along the right path.

Maybe it's stupid, but he's never been one to give up just because it sounds impossible. ]

If it's a war, you'll just need the right tactic. [ Spoken like a true strategist.

And underneath, not spoken aloud: clarity comes with acceptance. He'll be the center point if he needs to be. ]

[narcissithstic]

And I have one.

[He doesn't blink, doesn't so much as let his attention slip for a moment: surprise, General Hux, you're clearly the subject of conversation here.]

The Supreme Leader expected us to work together. [A senseless endeavor it felt like at times, one hand striking the other, always interfering. Resentment boiled in the wake of their forced cooperation but here, now, marks the first moment of dawning realization between them: Ren senses it, as clear and bright as any premonition granted to him through the Force. He's the knife, the saber meant to cut through bone, and Hux--]

I gave you control over your symbiote. [For once, there's no arrogance to be found alongside that claim; it's a statement of fact, nothing more.] Return the favor.

[His posture angles in, shoulders squaring, heavy with the weight of what it is he aches to ask. The idea that Hux might refuse spurs him forward, rather than back towards his own heels: it means the end product reads as a demand, not a request.]

Guide my hand.

[exhuxperation]

[ It shouldn't surprise him when Ren says he has an idea. No, that he's put strategical thought into this. Still, for as much as they've argued and verbally ripped each other to pieces, Hux finds himself shocked at the words.

Even moreso what Ren expects in return.

But clarity cuts through like a knife. Precise; they can't afford to continue their petty hatred. Already, the two times they've been brought to the brink since coming here have left him feeling like he has no footing. The addition of the symbiote had not helped his case and it appears it hasn't been working in Ren's favor either.

They're the only ones left of a regime he'd helped build. The fact burns and stings, still an open wound. He's going to take a page from Ren and endure. ]

Yes. [ No refusal, though it feels like he's just cut the strings holding him up. Hux meets Ren's gaze easily, straight backed as always. ]

Explain it to me. [ The Force. Dark. Light. What sinks its teeth in more? The first step to any action– know what you're walking into, from the inside out. ]

[narcissithstic]

[From there it's a daunting task, summarizing the worst of his struggles: how the light, what should be that much weaker than the dark, still tears at him with every open opportunity, how he's incapable of locking out the echoes of the world around him, how much the symbiote fights his hold— a cycle of frustration and anger born from nothing more than what he endures. Ren asks for no pity, no comfort, everything is stated as a bitter fact and left exposed.

When it's done he sits opposite the General, perched wearily at the edge of a low alcove, fingers knitted.]

I need orders, General.

[Ones that aren't 'hold hands with your brood' or 'make nice with the hosts that despise you'.]

[exhuxperation]

[ As Ren launches into his description, Hux listens intently, eyeline on him the entire way. At some point, both of them have settled– Ren edged on the alcove across where he'd sat on the bed. He's leaned forward now, forearms resting on his knees and one hand loosely clasping the other. The puzzle that is Kylo Ren has come together quickly, missing pieces slotting in and giving him a better picture.

This is the most they've spoken; he thinks they should've had this conversation much earlier. There was no turning back time or decisions though, so it's time to make the best of it. ]

For now, let's focus on the build up of energy. [ And utilizing those sharp edges elsewhere. Here is another similarity between them: without aim, they're restless. Hux can easily find things for himself to do, not that he always enjoys it, but Ren is a different story. ] Should you feel ready to lash out, just come find me. Or make contact somehow. We can divert it into something productive.

[narcissithstic]

[A beat, the air heavy between them with the weight of a single, pregnant pause.]

Understood.

[There it is, the agreement struck in a definitive moment. How long had Snoke tried to coerce them into cooperation? How often had they been at each other's throats, praying through their own teeth that the other would recoil— surrender or stumble enough to be dismissed in shame, only to find themselves bound to one another regardless. It's not an ideal solution (in a better world they'd have control over the other hosts— or at least the authority required to keep conflict at a minimum) but it is viable: Hux had already endured the worst of Ren's violent outbursts, the ability to reroute and refocus them as they occur should come almost second nature to him now.]

[exhuxperation]

[ Here's where it could all unravel. Hinging on Ren's say. ]

Good.

[ And it resolves. The tension seeming to dissipate into more normal levels between them both. Hux feels like he can breathe a little easier, even if this whole situation is strange beyond reason. Finally, finally they're working more in tandem, an understanding growing. There's still s much to work on, but the foundation is laid. ]

We'll talk again soon. [ A quiet dismissal– his energy is low, having gone from the knife sharp tension to having it cut loose. ]

[narcissithstic]

[In a way, Ren's surprised as much as he is relieved: he'd expected more reaching, more probing curiosity with such a massive confession on the table, and an even more shocking agreement as its undercurrent. And yet there's nothing but that cordial dismissal standing between them.

How strange— how fortunate.]

So we will.

[A single agreement, and then he tips his head, leaving without another word.]