Chapter Text
“So, the arm thing, is that some sort of Skywalker right of passage or what?” From what Hux could tell from his position in the front of the shuttle, Kylo Ren was not amused. “Because your weird granddad lost an arm, and then cut off Dooku’s arms, right, and then got all his limbs burnt off in that lava pit, you follow me?”
“My Grandfather is Darth Vader, do not speak of him in that way.” Kylo attempted to crush Hux’s arm with the force, but was so doped up on pain medication it came off as a gentle pat.
“And then he cut off your uncle’s arm, and that’s gotta count for double, right?”
“Shut up, General.”
“And anyway he had to’ve sliced off a few more arms with the whole youngling thing. “ Hux stood up from his position in the cockpit and moved into the main body of the shuttle, getting a bottle from the on-board refrigeration unit and grabbing a seat on the bench. “Oooh, and let’s not forget his rampage in that village or the time he got trapped in that factory. Shit, he musta chopped off a ton of limbs in the Clone Wars.”
“Why are you so obsessed with my grandfather’s history in combat?”
“It’s just weird, is all, that your entire Jedi-Sith line has routinely chopped arms off of people! No stabbing, only the one beheading, it kinda seems like your granddad had a limb fixation, is what I’m saying.”
Kylo tried to choke him with the force this time, resulting in only slightly labored breath. “My grandfather did not have a limb fixation, shut up.”
“Fetish, then.” Hux uncapped his bottle and took a long sip from it. Eurgh, Geonosis Ale was always revolting, but it was that or the Kashyyyk hard liquor, and he was still technically driving the shuttle. If a full grown Wookie could get sloppy drunk after two shots, there’s no telling what a single shot could do to him.
Kylo tried to pull his lightsaber towards him, it rolled off of the table and onto the floor. “Darth Vader did not have a limb fetish, Hux!”
“Well, shit, did you know him? Were you privy to his sexual desires? No? Were you even born before he died? No? You can’t prove he didn’t.” Truth be told, there were few things that First Order General Hux loved more than giving Kylo Ren shit. “But that’s not all!”
“Hux, if I wasn’t confined to this bed you would be dead by now.”
“If you killed me, you’d have to deal with Snoke because I’m your superior, and the lovely and talented Captain Phasma isn’t ready to be a general yet. You’d be stuck with some asshole from the ass end of the galaxy who you’d hate more.” Hux took another long pull from the bottle. A very stylized portrait of Count Dooku stared at him from the label. “Anyway, where were we? Oh yeah, limb fetish.”
Kylo sighed, long and loud. “Must we?”
“When you can sit up for five minutes at a time or drive the shuttle, you can choose the topics of conversation. And seeing as how it’s either my charming ass, the endless quiet in the void of space, or Phasma’s recordings of Padme Amidala giving birth on Mustafar that she uses to punish disobedient troops, you’re kinda stuck with me. So unless you want to face your bleak existence or see the miracle of childbirth up-close…?”
Hux grinned at the face Kylo pulled. Years of wearing that stupid helmet had made the head of the Knights of Ren forget how to school his expressions. Apparently watching the birth of his mother and uncle was not something he was eager to do.
“We haven’t even started talking about Obi-Wan, who hacked off a dude’s legs when he was still a padawan. And cut off the arm of some random person in a bar in front of your uncle- again, counts for double-“ Hux paused mid sentence to take another sip. “- and did the same thing on Coruscant years earlier with your weird grandpa. According to the holofilm, some asshole was trying to get him to buy cigarettes, so clearly amputation is the correct response. Does no one in your fucking family have any amount of chill?
“I’m not related to Obi-Wan, Hux.”
“Well, you’re named after him, and he’s kinda your crazy grampa’s father figure, so for all intents and purposes, you’re totally related. “ Hux checked the level of liquid in the glass bottle- not quite enough to make the funny noises if he blew over it. He took another sip, and ran a hand through his short, red hair. “And hell, Obi-Wan fought that four armed dude in the clone war, right? General Grevious? Literally the only way to win against him is to lop off enough arms that you have a clear shot!”
“You can shut up any time you like, Hux.” Kylo’s attempts to use the Jedi mind trick were futile and a bit embarrassing.
“Ah, but you see, I don’t like. Here I am, trapped with you in a shuttle with a wimpy-ass hyperdrive, going across the galaxy, and I finally get to give you massive amounts of deserved shit because you can’t stop me. I’m having the time of my life right now. And seeing as how we’re headed to a personal meeting with Snoke, and we just lost badly against the rebels, it’s likely to be the best time of my life I have left, so I’m gonna enjoy it.”
“He wouldn’t kill us, we’re worth too much for that.”
Hux gave a bitter laugh. “No, you’re worth too much to him. You know how fucking long it takes to train a good Sith? And it’s not like he has any reserves around- there are only two, a Master and an apprentice. If I’m lucky, he’ll send me on a command that just happens to be shot down. “
“He wouldn’t kill you.” Kylo Ren spoke like someone who had never learned from personal experience.
“No, he’d make you do it, the slow way. You ever taken a life with your bare hands? I mean, you know, other than your dad?”
Kylo was silent. Sure, he really hated Hux right now, but that didn’t change the fact that he was a good general, a halfway-decent pilot, and the only one in the galaxy capable of calling him on his shit. “… I’d really rather not kill you. We could just not go to Snoke, I suppose.”
Taking a long gulp from his beer to avoid talking, Hux allowed himself a small smile. “Sure, we’ll pack off to Coruscant and open up a coffee shop where we’ll only serve ruggedly handsome men, and soon become the business tycoons we’ve always dreamed of. Yeah, there’s no way the Empire will catch up to us within a couple of standard lunar cycles. We’ll adopt a family of hounds and name them after everyone your granddad ever divested of a limb, it’ll be great.”
“It’s not like I can’t force people to forget us, Hux.” And apparently, in Kylo’s mind, this has just gone from a complete hypothetical to a Serious Plan. There’s a reason they don’t let him plan things, namely that he relies on messing around in people’s heads too much.
“Ok, slow your roll, you haven’t even bought me dinner, and now you’re inviting me to go own a business with you and adopt puppies? I mean, sure, you’ll have to lose the helmet for good, but this is a terrible idea. The only fucking way I’m getting out of this alive is if we join up with your Mom on D’Qar and fight for her. And while I’ve got fuck all loyalty towards the Empire and the First Order, you’d probably have a problem with that.”
“Well, since Han Solo-“
“Just call him your dad, that’s super weird, Kylo.”
“Well, since I killed my father-“ Kylo nearly spat the word out like it was acid. “I doubt I’d be very welcome.”
“I dragged your half-dead ass off the planet, someone could have very easily dragged his off as well. And you know that fucker was force-sensitive, right? He’ll come back as one of those glow-y blue ghosts, anyway.”
“They’ll kill me if I go back.”
“Not likely. Your mom may punch you, or something, but they won’t kill you. That’s, like, one of the big rebel things, y’know, not killing people if they fuck up? Blowing up space stations that can destroy planets? I mean, you’ll probably have to talk about your deep soulful pain or whatever, and how nobody understands, and how you only know hate. I am going to tell them every single fucking thing I know about the Empire and the First Order, because I’d rather not die slowly.”
Kylo pushed a hand back through his hair; absentmindedly, Hux noticed his roots were showing. “I’ve gone to far with the Sith to turn back now.”
Hux drained the last of his beer, and began peeling the label off the bottle. ”Can you do the finger lightning thing? Does your face sag because of all the evil brain shit you’ve got going on? Are your plans gonna be foiled by the antics of Ewoks? Can you do the evil finger lightning thing?”
“… No?” Kylo waved his hand in Hux’s direction, tensed his fingers suddenly, and looked very focused for around five seconds. “No, no lightning.”
“Only the super evil dudes do the lightening thing. Since you can’t shoot lightening outta your fingers, clearly you are a good guy.” The label of the beer tore, cutting off the top half of Count Dooku’s face. “Anyways, the rebels don’t really care if you’re kinda ambiguous on the whole light and dark thing. What’s that saying again, ‘only a Sith deals in absolutes’?”
“But I’ll have to deal with General Organa-“
“You just don’t want to deal with your fucking mom, stop distancing yourself from your goddamn family. Do what normal people who have issues do- repress them and resent them for life, don’t revel in the fact you can’t look them in the eye without regretting the whole Sith thing. “
“I DON’T REGRET THE SITH THING!” Kylo sat up suddenly, and promptly ripped a few of the stitches on his side.
“The only reason you follow it is because you have this weird boner for your grandpa, and he was cute as a younger dude, and black is totally his color, but still. One of his childhood friends was fuckin’ Jar Jar Binks, is that really a man you want to idolize? And let’s not even talk about that whole thing where he thought, ‘oh, I’ve just cut this kid’s arm off and told him his true parentage is my evil ass, he’ll totally want to help me take over the galaxy and kill all his friends’!”
“That’s not true!” Kylo said, baffled that Darth Vader could have had such poor choice in friends. “That’s IMPOSSIBLE!”
“Search your feelings, you know it to be true. “ Hux blew over the top of his now empty (and naked) bottle, grinning slightly as the noise reverberated through the small shuttle.
After a beat, he spoke again. “So, you want me to change course, or keep on going to my inevitable death? Because really I’d rather not do that?”
“Fine, whatever. Sure.”
“Great! Love the enthusiasm, there, Kylo.” He made his way up to the cockpit and adjusted their course. “Hey, did you know your mom totally made out with her brother?”