@artfuldarthness // attn: Stassam Char
The grand gothic spires of Stassam Char’s estate on Raxus Secondus were, blessedly, outside of New Republic space. Hux strode into the reception hall dressed proudly in his First Order uniform — after all, Char’s ostentatious home was clearly designed to show off their power, so it was only fair that Hux remind them of his. His smirk faltered when the protocol droid informed him that Char was in their sauna. (Of course that shameless hedonist would have a kriffing sauna in their home. Ridiculous.) Hux told the droid he would wait; it replied that Char was expecting him. His jaw stiffened. He was in no mood for whatever bizarre power game Char was playing. Hux marched into the steam-filled room in full uniform.
“Char. I’m pleased to see you’re—” He averted his gaze the moment he sighted Stassam. (Kriff! It’s hot in here.) “You, ah, survived Hapes. Good. Well done.”












