The great Amirale straightened up with the intention of leaving the cabin of the little Armitage. However, the boy's little voice echoed in the room:
- Rae?
- Yes, Armitage?
- What should I do now?
- I beg your pardon?
- I don't know what I'm supposed to do.... And I'm a little hungry.
Indeed, Sloane had heard the protests of the little redhead's stomach several times. She was outraged by the abandonment to which Armitage was subject. Her father, she didn't love him much already, but in the light of everything she knew about him.... His hatred towards him had only increased.
She grabbed the little boy's hand and said:
- I'll take you to the refectory, so you'll know the way and you can go alone next time. Like a big one.
She knew that this little boy had lost his mother some time ago. He needed an adult to look after him, his father was unable to do so. At least he didn't want to. As the head of the young soldier training program, he knew how to manage children. But concerning his son, the task must have seemed ungrateful, too time-consuming. Rae thought he should have thought about it before he went running to the bunks.
Poor kid.
Both travelled the cold and austere corridors of the stellar destroyer to reach the refectory. They had breakfast. Officers like Sloane were entitled to a more consistent meal than the soldiers, they were satisfied with protein bars with a visibly inferior taste.
Once again the rank granted privileges, privileges that the young boy could also benefit from. They swallowed their fruit juices, tasted the two cereal bars, the taste was not exquisite. But it was always better than the soldier's rations, Sloane thought.
The little boy now seemed a little more fit, his stomach was full and he was ready to start his day. Logically, Armitage should take private courses in strategy, mathematics, learning the imperial language: basic. But he also had to start his combat training. Given his young age, training would be very simple, but it was still necessary to start somewhere.
Armitage and Sloane set off for the training room, the same one reserved for Brendol Hux and his young recruits. They walked for long minutes, in silence. A heavy steel door blocked access to the room. Sloane dialed the code on the terminal. The door slid to disappear inside the wall. They entered together, staying away from the training in progress.
A seven-year-old boy was holding a stick in his hand, his face was tanned, almost burned by the sun. His first name was Archex. The expression on his face clearly indicated that it was not better to provoke him. He looked wild, aggressive. Sloane directly recognized several familiar faces. These boys were the ones who had given him bad looks since she arrived on the ship.
Archex was facing another boy a few years older, armed with a small telescopic lance. The battle was already raging, and the arrival of Sloane and Armitage did not disturb the two fighters.
Despite their young ages, the blows they inflicted were of rare violence. And the cries of rage they were making were chilling. One of the boys had an open wound on his cheek that was bleeding heavily, but that didn't stop him from fighting.
- What are you doing here, Grand Admiral?
Brendol Hux's annoyed voice echoed throughout the room. He ordered the two soldiers to stop training. He then approached a heavy step towards the two guests. He barely looked at his son.
- I came to see if everything was going well, and also so that your son could see you in action. One day, he will have to take over. Sloane replied in a neutral voice
- What are you implying, Grand Admiral? Brendol replied in a suspicious tone. Are you threatening me?
- I'm just stating a fact. You don't want your work to continue in the coming decades? It seems to me that your son would be the right person to continue your work.
Brendol Hux simply blew out his nose and swept with a wave of his hand in front of him, as if he was trying to get rid of this ridiculous idea in his eyes.
- First of all, what is he doing with you? Brendol asked as he pointed to his son with a gesture of his chin.
- I also came to request a conversation with you, Hux. In private.
- Well, it'll wait until after practice, Sloane. He cut off in a dry tone before returning to the children.
He clapped his hands to indicate that the fight could resume. The young Archex took the opportunity to jump on his opponent and hit him in the face with a stick. The boy fell back, knocked out. Sloane was impressed by this child's intelligence, he was so young and yet he seemed to master his weapon perfectly. He had been able to be fast and smart enough to win the game.
Brendol applauded as he pushed an exclamation of joy tinged with pride:
- Ah well done Arch'! That's an excellent strategy, certainly a little primitive, but it's still ingenious. I'm putting a lot of hope on you, boy!
He gave a few friendly pats on the boy's back, a radiant smile on his face. Armitage had observed the scene and was amazed to discover his father as patient, caring and kind. He had encouraged this young boy, even congratulated him. Never in his short life had Armitage been allowed to do all this. Jealousy crept into his heart, his eyebrows frowned as he stared at the boy so beloved by Brendol.
He wanted to destroy it, to make it pay for being so admired by his father. While he was reaping only contempt, ignorance and punishment. A sense of injustice added to the jealousy. His eyes filled with tears. Sloane had also attended this difference in treatment. She could see that the little ginger was going to start crying. She then discreetly placed the palm of her hand between the young boy's shoulder blades and gently touched his clothing with her fingertips.
Later that day, Sloane was to go to Brendol Hux's office. As promised, she was going to have a little private conversation with him. She couldn't bear to know that this man was hitting his child. What kind of father would do such a thing? So it was with rage in her stomach that she knocked on the door of her office. He quickly opened it to her and looked at her with his empty and contemptuous gaze, before inviting her in.
- I came to bring you this. She simply said by placing a data block on her desk. It contains the coordinates of the assembly point in unknown areas. Our final destination.
Brendol observed the block for a moment, no reaction appeared on his face. Sloane then took the opportunity to put a completely different thing on his desk. It was Gallius Rax's bloody cloak. By this manoeuvre she clearly showed her interlocutor that she was dominating the conversation. But also that she was dangerous, despite what Hux might have thought. He observed Sloane who continued:
- Look, you don't like me and that feeling is widely shared. But if we are to contribute to the preservation of the Empire we must be allies. Although I don't like it.
Sloane knew that Hux would not like a woman talking to him like that, but she certainly didn't expect what would follow. The man had thrown himself on her to grab her throat with his huge hands. Shocked but reactive, she kicked him in the knee to make him back off. He twisted in pain. She took advantage of this moment of weakness to grab a clump of her hair and hit his face. Her fists hit him without restraint, she kicked him until he collapsed to the ground squeaking.
- If you ever piss me off, I would inflict the same violence on you a hundredfold. Whatever awaits us, you are with me. You will not betray me. You won't question me. Understand?
Brendol nodded, his eyes streaming with tears. He stammered that he was his ally. Sloane then added:
- Your son. Armitage. I know you don't like him. I know you hurt him. Psychologically and physically. You're going to leave him alone. And you will teach him everything you know. Is that clear?
Again, Hux nodded to indicate that he had understood. She hoped then that the father would stop torturing his son. That he was going to teach him his knowledge. The Empire needed new blood. His Empire would not die today, or any other day. It would be eternal.