The Finaliser was alive and bustling with workers and activity as it drifted through the galaxy on its course, patrolling the stars and countless systems with that familiar shadow of authority. Everyone was perfectly aware, and terrified, of it...
At its core it ran on efficiency and order, as the institution's name suggested, and a sort of formal rigidness that was existent in every member; every officer and trooper was perfectly conditioned to their position, respectful, and to some extent fearful of their superiors. But nonetheless, they were dedicated to their cause and ready to fight for it.
But at the centre of it all, at its heart, was the most dedicated and willing. Brutal, yes, but this was a small price to pay. Besides, the general was brilliant and no one doubted that his methods were inevitably for their benefits.
Like anyone, he had his critics, his failures; perhaps not everyone agreed that he had earned his position. But, at least for now, it was non negotiable.
Still, with the rate everything was growing, with the new system and planet acquisitions, treaties and agreements being made, he had to admit that perhaps he could do with at least a little help to keep track of everything: box ticking, signing off on insignificant things, taking notes...that would be greatly appreciated...
Word travelled fast and it wasn't long before it hit the higher ranks, including, much to his dismay, though it was inevitable, the attention of a certain rival of his who marched toward him on the bridge, boots heaving against the gleaming floor and leaving a trail of discomfort behind him.
"Hux!" he called, voice reverberating off the windows that the man in question stood before, turning to him with tongue in cheek. He shut off his datapad and sent the officer he was speaking to away with a dismissive glance.
"Kylo Ren," He looked to him with an unimpressed glare and pure dislike raging in his blood. Just by being in his mere presence, just by speaking, Ren tipped his nerves... "Can I help you...I assume this is no friendly visit?"
This question was ignored. "You want an assistant now? You're advertising."
"I'd hardly call it 'advertising'. The position is newly available, I want someone to fill it."
"Newly existent you mean." Ren scoffed, walking over to the window, almost disinterested in the disagreement he had begun and simply wanting someone to rile up. "You don't need an assistant."
"Is that a fact..." Hux muttered, moving away to oversee some operations, reading the stats on the projections in front of him and trying very hard to concentrate but for the continuation of Ren's ramblings.
"If you need one then why can't I have one, huh?"
"Since when do you need one, you hardly do anything..." he said, checking himself when Ren's head snapped to him at this clapback. "Listen, when you have hundreds of meetings to attend and countless reports to chase up and documents that need proof reading, not to mention the strategising, then you can tell me its not fair...and act like a petulant child over it."
He didn't seem to hear that part, thankfully. "How typical that you're not up to the job. I know half a dozen people who would be better suited to your position."
"None would be nearly as tolerant of you." He shut off the screens in front of him and turned to his colleague. "I have things to be getting on with and interviews to conduct so, if you don't mind."
He started to walk away, down the bridge, yet Ren continued. "It's a terrible idea and a complete waste of resources-"
The general turned back around one last time. "Not your call. The Supreme Leader has already given his approval. So, criticise all you like and take it up with him. As always," He finally got to walk away. "Thank you for your ever welcome input."
***
Hux gathered the papers and file of the prospective assistant sitting in front of him in the office. She seeped a sort of arrogance, one that he didn't respect, seeming to look him up and down when she thought he couldn't see, but returning to her sickly-sweet disposition once he looked up with his signature hardened stare, visibly frowning at the impression she radiated.
"You don't seem impressed." she said with an incredulous half-sneer.
He raised his eyebrows, unaffected but a little taken aback by the forwardness. "I don't believe that's your judgement to make, Sergeant Cross."
"I can only apologise, sir, but I like to make myself heard."
"That you have, sergeant." he muttered, casting his notes to the side.
She shrugged as if this was a compliment with a smug grin, revelling in what she assumed to be flattery.
"Well, Cross..." he said after a moment, a frustration in his voice. He was already wishing to be rid of her. "I don't think you are quite what I need. You don't have the right..." He restrained himself. "Work ethic."
Her grin faded and was replaced almost instantly with a cold curl of the lip. "Right work ethic?" she scoffed then checked her attitude in his presence. "I believe I have fantastic work ethic."
"Shall I rephrase that?" he said, leaning back as he took off his glasses and discarded them. "You are conceited and arrogant and I do not appreciate it. You better work on your attitude, especially toward your superiors: it will get you nowhere. As it stands, I haven't the energy to reprimand you. Goodbye, Sergeant."
She left in a huff as the general crossed her name off the bottom of the list. He leaned over the desk with an irritated sigh, scratching at his neck in frustration.
That was that, then. There was no one left who had applied and he supposed he could simply snatch someone from one of the desks on the bridge or something to take the position. But, realistically, they were better off where they were and besides, he needed someone dedicated, who actually wanted to work with him. There was always the danger that he could end up with someone like that sergeant, or worse. And he couldn't put up with that day in, day out.
Perhaps he'd have to deal with the least worst of them all and suck it up if it meant the heavy workload was relieved even slightly. He didn't hate being busy, in fact he found it relatively enjoyable all things considered. It was just...this level of sleep deprivation and stress was beginning to grate on him at some level, even if it was the standard. Having someone reliable to handle perhaps some meetings and reports would be appreciated.
And this, among countless other things, was what he contemplated in the late hours in his quarters. They were less a place to relax and unwind after a long day and more of a change of scenery to keep going with his work. He typed up various notes in the dim amalgamation of blue from the monitor and yellow of the desk lamp, melding into a strange, yet somewhat comforting, glow.
In front of the lamp lay an orange tabby cat, revelling in the warmth and stretching out every now and then before falling back into her light slumber, purring ever so gently to counteract the otherwise deafening silence of the room.
He would occasionally reach over and scratch her head as he read a long section of a report or looked over some diagrams, momentarily distracting himself from it all. The whiskey he took a small swig of took a tiny bit of the edge off but barely enough to do anything.
He shuffled through the countless papers on his desk, the curse of his preferring written notes to electronic ones, and found that, typically, he had left a good stack of them in his office. They were certainly necessary if he wanted to finish anything off so he sat back for a moment, rubbing his eyes of the overwhelming tiredness that had crept up on him the last few evenings, and pulled himself out of his chair. He gave Millicent a quick pat before making for the door in pursuit of his office.
It wasn't a long trip but it felt so much more so in his current state. The echoing silence of the mostly-sleeping ship was deafening, the low hum of it almost lulling him into a vague half-sleep that was only interrupted by the occasional mouse droid zipping by or officer greeting him.
He eventually found his way to the corridor that was even more quiet than everywhere else; there was only one person there, a female officer, a little dishevelled by the First Order's standards. By her uniform she was only a low rank, most likely a sergeant, her ashy hair escaping from her tight bun, seemingly in a hurry previously. Despite her low rank, however, she must have been in combat at some point in her life from the long scar that cut through her left eyebrow, over her eye and down to her neck. Interesting...
She paced in front of the door, balling and releasing her fists nervously as she hyped herself up to knock, clutching a datapad under her arm.
"Sergeant?"
She seemed startled as he approached, turning to him and nervously standing to attention, upright and proper in the presence of her general. "General Hux...sir."
"Can I help you?" He stopped in front of her, expecting some kind of flicker of confusion at his vaguely unkempt appearance himself, his uniform a little creased and hair a bit clumped and messy from his evening of stress but she seemed too nervous to care.
"I...Well, sir, actually, I was looking for you. I...I didn't know if-if you were in but I wasn't sure whether to bother you...sir."
"These are not exactly my office hours, you'd be unlikely to find me." he replied and she nodded, looking down with a sigh. She pressed her lips together as if she might cry though, again, he didn't have the energy to reprimand it. "What is it?"
"It doesn't matter now, sir. I- I've missed the opportunity now...never mind."
She went to turn away but he stopped her. "Opportunity for what, sergeant?"
"The uh...assistant's position...I wanted to interview but Sergeant Cross, someone I work with, she convinced me that the deadline was...I didn't know. Down in operations you don't really hear about things...until way after they've happened." She laughed a little sadly, embarrassed really. "I imagine it's been taken now but I wanted to ask you, just in case there was still a chance." She shook her head, a visible heat creeping up her cheeks. "...Did Cross get it? Not that it's any of my business-"
"No, she didn't. No one did." he said and the young officer looked up hopefully.
"So...you weren't looking or..."
"None of them were up to scratch." He held his hand out for her datapad. "Your file, I assume?"
"Yes, sir."
"What's your name?" He took the datapad.
"Sergeant Latt, sir. Sergeant Bailee Latt."
Sergeant Latt seemed nervous again as he briefly read through the papers. 25, joined the Order at 21 with fairly good training scores though nothing exceptional and had been a low ranking officer ever since working somewhere in the depths of the ship with no real way of progressing. This position would surely be her way out, to finally be a part of something.
Her heart stopped when he said, "Come in, Sergeant."
She was beyond surprised at this, that she was actually being seen instead of mockingly sent away and recognised this as the moment, the biggest moment of her whole life. Getting this job would mean a meaningful position, working alongside the general, making some interesting connections if she was lucky...
The office was a little cold, the same aesthetic as every other room on the ship really. The floor gleamed a deep obsidian, echoing her footsteps as she entered and reflecting every one of the grey, metallic walls as well as the stars beyond the window that lay behind his desk. The thing was stacked with paper files, something she thought was a little strange for a man of his rank, but understandable she supposed. It was her favourite method also.
There was something vaguely classy about this room though that none of the others that mirrored it possessed: a black sofa pushed against a side wall, a matching chair opposite and a silvery coffee table to finish it off, also covered with various bits of crap with no apparent order. There was a rather ornate bookcase to one side of the desk, stacked with hardback books, some of their spines peeling, others perfectly pristine. He gave the impression of a man with an interest in everything that the galaxy had to offer, but never enough time to pursue it.
"Have a seat."
She sat opposite him on the edge of a rather plush leather chair in anticipation, tapping her foot as he brought up something on his monitor, some kind of form. Upon finding it he continued to keep them in a tense silence as he read and copied information from the datapad and made his own comments.
Latt was patient, sort of, first trying to work out what he was writing before taking another look around the chaotic office that belonged to the actual General Hux of the First Order who sat before her right now. Her boss's, boss's, boss's boss, practically running the whole thing at the moment...amazing. And to be given a second glance by him, well, that was truly unbelievable.
Eventually, he got his stuff together and began his questioning, the conversation between them fairly easy and natural even considering his generally grumpy demeanour that was only heightened by his tiredness. All this made it hard to tell how well she was doing but from what she could discern, he seemed pleased with her answers.
"Now, in the interests of caution and given you'll be handling some fairly sensitive information, we'll have to do some digging on your communications history etc, etc..." he muttered, adding in a couple more comments. "All standard."
Latt stiffened at this, a sudden, natural reaction, though he didn't seem to notice. Of course it was expected but...She had nothing to hide...not now. It hadn't come up before...why would it now?
She straightened in her seat and smiled a little. "Of course. But I've nothing to hide, sir."
"Good...It'll probably be quite hands on: irregular hours, handling an increasingly busy schedule, recording minutes in meetings and such...maybe some work in the field if I'm called to it. Can you handle all that?"
The question seemed quite positive, this whole line of questioning quite positive. But she still nodded politely rather than proving too eager. "I'll admit it's not an area of expertise but I'd enjoy the challenge and, well, if I may say so it's far better than operations right below deck." She shrugged nervously and brushed a stray wisp of hair away. "I'd really like to be given a chance."
Though he admitted her lack of experience could be an issue there was no one else who would have it and, besides, he liked her enough. She seemed a perfectly nice girl and he ought to put some faith in her, take a chance for once.
It was worth the shot. Otherwise, he could just fire her...
He nodded. "Right, well, how about a few days to get used to things and I'll assess how you do, see whether you can do it."
Her whole self lit up. "That sounds...amazing, sir..." she breathed. "Thank you...not just for the job but giving me a chance. Thank you, general."
He nodded in recognition as they stood, the sergeant giving him a respectful nod. "Be here tomorrow, 9 o'clock sharp, Latt."
-A/N-
Ah, yes after many months and years, I have returned !
I have been meaning to write this up for ages but it's all been a bit hectic so I'm hoping to keep up to date with this; you'll be glad to know it just needs typing up so fingers crossed no writers block lol
Anyway, if you've come from the last story I wrote or as a follower or just stumbled across this one then welcome once more! As always, I am so incredibly grateful that you're here and reading my writing - it means a lot <3
So vote, follow, comment, and all of that goodness and I will see you very soon (fingers crossed)
*~GhostoftheNebula~*