These days, Hux too often found himself walking from meeting to meeting with his eyes glued to a datapad. It was an unseemly habit, and ordinarily Hux would not allow himself to be seen departing from his usual assertive stride: eyes forward, alert at all times to the goings-on of his base. But there simply wasn’t time. He’d been working around the clock since the incident at Sernpidal, not to mention coordinating efforts to track the Jedi and undermine the sympathy Amidala’s kidnapping had stirred up for the New Republic, and with Ren back he now had three volatile Force warriors to manage. Hux rarely even knew which of them was responsible for the equipment damages and "unscheduled personnel turnover” he kept having to deduct from the budget. Hux swore he could feel the shadows beneath his eyes weighing him down as he rounded a corner. A solid figure blocked his path.
“Out of the way,” he barked. When they stood their ground, he finally glanced up from his intelligence briefing on New Republic outreach in the Mid Rim. A chill settled in his stomach. “You.” It had been some time since Hux had encountered Aiya Ren on his own. He had not been avoiding them, per se, he had simply found that most communications were better suited to holocomm or message. For efficiency. Not at all because of Aiya’s relentless lack of professionalism with regards to Seventh Sister. Or the utterly humiliating things he’d heard from Hux’s own mouth about Ren at the Onderon fundraiser, while Hux had been drugged. (By Seventh Sister, no less. The two of them !! Impossible.) And certainly not because the mere sight of his face brought murder to the fore of Hux’s mind.
“I gather this is not about the meeting on disrupting New Republic statecraft in the Mid Rim, which begins in,” Hux glanced at his datapad, “four minutes.”
@ruthlessren
