49. Strike

CHAPTER SUMMARY: Kylo Ren retakes the First Order.

NOTE: This is a "no Rey" chapter.

Hux stands at the end of the conference room, facing the observation portal. Black dots scurry below, preparing for the morning shift change. From here, they look like ants, swarming the port in organized chaos.

"The east wing took some damage…"

General Voigt blathers behind him.

"But otherwise, the facility is operational. Regular activities resume tomorrow, and Colonel Seville submitted a request for—"

"I'm not interested in operations." Hux turns to the general. "I'm interested in theft."

"Of course." The older man stiffens. He lifts his datapad, a tightness in his jaw.

The rest of the generals slouch around the table, only paying half attention. Kas fools with something in his lap, oblivious to everyone else.

Voigt scrolls through has pad, then shakes his head. "Nothing. All prototypes are accounted for as well as all plans and records. As far as we can tell, the intruders didn't even access the data."

"So, you were right!" General Ailen perks up. "It was a distraction."

"General." Hux turns sharply. "Were you given leave to speak?"

"No." Ailen's cheeks grow red. "No, sir."

Hux glares, steely-eyed.

Insolence. Insolence and sloppiness, that's what a year under that lovesick fool has gotten them. These men must be reschooled in proper conduct before authority…

"Kas!"

The general jumps, startled.

"Reconnaissance report, Starkiller." Hux steps forward, hands clasped behind him.

"There's… nothing new to report, sir." Kas scrambles for his pad. "The planet's clear, nothing in the facilities or surrounding area. We've tripled droid coverage and found nothing irregular."

"And shipments?" Hux strides by, eyeing the chrono in the general's lap.

"Transports from Sienar-Jaemus and BlasTech have been thoroughly scanned and cleared. Per your command, no ships will leave or enter the planet until further notice."

Hux paces around the table, brows pinched.

None of this sits well with him— the intrusion on Hays Major, no casualties or theft, not so much as a single X-wing in range since the so-called attack.

"If I may speak, sir?" General Meric sits up.

"You may." Hux nods.

"Whatever the Resistance had planned must've been foiled by your decision to split the fleet. They expected the intrusion would draw the dreadnaughts away, and when it didn't, they aborted attack."

Hux frowns.

If that were the case, they should've detected some attempt to enter Starkiller. The fact that they didn't means one of two things— either someone's hiding on the planet or there's something else afoot. "Dispatch another hundred units to Starkiller," he commands. "By day's end, I want every inch of the planet covered in troops."

"Yes, sir." Meric enters a note in his pad.

"The Resistance is desperate…" Hux rounds the head of the table. "They want Starkiller and they want it badly. They mean to destroy it or take it from us, and with Ren on their side, they're in a better position to do so…" He sets his jaw. "So, let's give them what they want." He halts.

The generals glance at each other.

"We will draw them like poison from a wound. We'll disperse the dreadnaughts but not far, make them think the planet is vulnerable."

"But…" Voigt catches himself. "Permission to give council?"

Hux eyes the general. "Granted."

"Organa won't fall for a ruse. She'll only attack if—"

"She will attack if she believes she has no choice." Hux steps in. He lingers on Voigt before scanning the table, all eyes on him except Kas fiddling with his chrono. "Kas!"

The general snaps up.

"Do you have somewhere else to be, or do you just enjoy watching the time?"

"I-I…" The general stammers. "I'm sorry, sir."

Hux glares as Kas tucks the device away, then resumes pacing. "Once I'm satisfied Starkiller is secure, I'll move the planet, recharge the weapon, and destroy the Bespin system."

The generals widen their eyes.

"We'll disperse the fleet and lie in wait. When the Resistance retaliates, the fleet will move in and crush them."

"And if they don't attack?" Voigt leans into table. "What then?"

"Are you questioning my judgement?"

"No, I'm only—"

"Then, you'll refrain from speaking out of turn or you'll be demoted."

Voigt tightens his lips. He seems to fight with himself before looking away.

"If the Resistance doesn't attack, we'll recharge the weapon and destroy another system." Hux strides around the table. "We'll continue from week to week, destroying all systems suspected of giving aid to the enemy. Either the Resistance will retaliate or they'll watch as we pulverize their friends one by one."

The generals gape at him.

"Who knows?" Hux saunters to the observation portal. "Perhaps we'll destroy their remaining bases while we're at it." He smirks, glancing at the port.

Suddenly, he halts. He steps forward, frowning.

The port… it's empty. There's not a person in sight, machinery and equipment lying idle.

He furrows his brow.

"Command to Supreme Leader!"

He snaps to the comm at his belt.

"You're needed on the bridge for…" The speaker fumbles. "For an urgent situation, sir."

Hux snatches the device. "Who is this?"

"Colonel Sykes, sir. You're needed on the bridge immediately. We're experiencing— "

"Don't take that tone with me. I am your Supreme Leader—"

"I'm sorry, sir, but—" Sykes stops, speaking to someone in the background. "You must come. You must come now."

"Colonel, this is highly—"

There's a thud on the other end of the comm.

"Colonel?"

Urgent voices argue faintly.

"Colonel?"

The comm crackles, then goes dead.

Hux gapes at the device. For a moment, he just stares. "The meeting is adjourned." He snaps up. "Meric! DeVries! To me." He charges to the door.

The room fills with low voices, but Hux is in the hall before he hears a single word. Footsteps clatter behind him, Meric and DeVries scrambling to catch up.

Hux strides forward, scanning the hall.

It's practically empty. A few officers hurry by, but otherwise, it's bare— no operators, no technicians, no troopers.

Where is everyone?

He picks up his pace. Every time he rounds a corner, he expects to find the normal crowd, but there are only droids and officers, many looking panicked, tucking their heads as they scurry past him.

Hux slows when the bridge comes in view, shocked by the sight of the door wide open without a single trooper on guard.

He breaks into a run.

"Where's the guard?" He flies into the room. "Why is—" He halts.

The bridge is crisp and clean, black floors reflecting the light, consoles lining either side of the room, chairs scattered in front of them.

But they're all empty. There's not a single operator on the bridge, consoles flashing with unanswered comms.

"Supreme Leader!" Colonels Sykes hurries to meet him. "We have—"

"Where is everyone? Where's the damn guard?"

"They're not here. No one is here. They left for the shift change and…"

"Are you telling me the entire bridge staff failed to report for their shift?" Hux steps in.

"Th-the officers are here." Sykes gestures weakly.

Hux jerks to the front of the room. The Supremacy's captain and the other officers pace by the control center, speaking desperately in their commlinks.

Hux charges to them, Meric and DeVries close on his heels. "What the hell going on?"

"Sir!" The captain lowers his comm. "We're getting reports from all over the ship. No one in the lower ranks is showing up for the shift change, and it's not just happening here but everywhere. I have the Finalizer on comm."

"I spoke to Canady on Starkiller." Sykes comes up behind him. "He says the whole base has shut down."

Hux widens his eyes.

The captain returns to his commlink, speaking furiously.

"Explain this!" Hux knocks the comm out of his hand. "Now!"

"I-I…" The captain stammers. He looks to Meric and DeVries as if hoping they'll supply an answer.

Hux seethes. "Captain, you will explain this now, or— "

Good morning!

Hux snaps to the ceiling.

Welcome to another fine day in the First Order!

A young voice fills the room, coming from the main comm system.

As I'm sure you've noticed, we're experiencing a slight pause in operations at the moment.

Hux listens carefully, trying to place the voice.

But don't worry. It'll be over soon.

He stiffens.

Sylas Bonden.

You're probably wondering why this is happening. Let me explain.

Hux turns a heel, charging to the doorway. Several officers loiter outside, eyes on the ceiling. Bonden's voice fills the halls, projecting throughout the entire ship.

Did you know that the lower ranks make up two thirds of the First Order?

Hux looks around, noticing the rest of generals nearby.

Two thirds. That's a lot.

He whips around, returning to the bridge. "Shut down the main comm system," he commands. "Now."

The officers glance at each other.

"I said NOW!" Hux claps his hands.

The men scramble, darting to the consoles.

We do so much. We fix your equipment. We guard your bases…

"Get the other generals!" Hux hisses to Meric and DeVries.

They head for the door.

We prep your ships. We manage your comms… If you think about it, we do most of the work around here.

Hux glares at the ceiling.

And lately, we've been feeling very underappreciated. So, we thought we'd give you a taste of what it's like to run this place without us.

"What's taking so long?" Hux growls to the men at the consoles.

"I'm sorry, sir." The captain looks up. "Without the operators, it's difficult—"

"Imbecile! If you can't run a simple—"

How's it going so far? Do you miss us yet?

Hux sucks in a breath.

Meric and DeVries clatter down the walkway, the other generals following behind.

Here's a question for you.

"Consoles!" Hux points to them. "Disable the main comm system."

"B-but, sir," Ailen stammers. "We don't—"

What good's an order if no one's there to follow it?

"CONSOLES! NOW!"

Ailen scrambles to an empty chair.

Let's ponder that a minute.

The other generals exchange glances, following slowly.

Hux paces down the walkway, jerking between consoles on either side. He's fire in human skin, burning from the inside out. The men seem to crawl like they're moving through mud, and it's all he can do not to fly at them, all fury and flailing limbs.

"Sir!"

Hux twists to the captain.

"I found the source of the comm. It's coming from port 44."

"Shut it down!"

"I… I can't, sir. There's a lock on the system."

"That's impossible." Sykes leans to the captain. "Locks can't be initiated without permission from an officer."

"Petrov!" Hux searches for the general. "Send units to port 44. I want anyone near it taken into custody."

"But, sir…" Petrov turns in his chair. "There are no units to send. I've gotten reports from a dozen sergeants. All FNs are refusing command."

Hux widens his eyes.

Now that we've had this time of silent reflection…

Bonden's voice fills the room.

I hope you're starting to appreciate how important the lower ranks are.

"Send the sergeants!" Hux shrieks. "Send anyone who answers to port 44!"

"Yes, sir." Petrov snatches his comm.

Maybe now you'll be open to considering our grievances.

"Will someone shut down that damn comm system!"

"But, sir—"

Because we've got a lot of grievances. A lot.

"You are the captain of this ship." Hux seethes. "If you can't control the main comm, what good are you?"

"I-I…" The captain stammers.

Take some recent changes, for example. Used to be we could learn new skills, move up the ranks…

"Comm the port," Hux commands. "Or are you too stupid to do that?"

"No, sir." The captain shrinks, turning to the console.

But now we don't have access to the right training modules. It's very unfair, very—

Bonden stops.

Oh… Hold on.

There's a faint thud on the main comm.

Sorry, guys. I'll be back.

Another thud and the system goes dead.

Hux hovers by the captain, grinding his teeth. Seconds crawl…

"Port 44 to bridge. 928-C speaking."

"928-C, you are in violation of—"

"What do you think you're doing?" Hux shoves the captain away.

"Oh!" Bonden brightens. "Hey Hux! I thought it might be you."

"I am your Supreme Leader, and you will address me as such."

"Yeah… about that."

"There are units coming to apprehend you as we speak. Your little game is over!"

"I don't think that's gonna happen." Bonden sounds casual. "The troopers aren't too keen on taking orders right now, not since you reinstated the Walk of Perdition. That's one of the grievances. Wanna hear the rest?"

"You'll beg for the Walk of Perdition before I'm done with you," Hux growls.

"Not gonna happen. Not if you wanna end this."

"End what?"

"The strike."

"Strike?"

"Oh… Of course. You don't know what a strike is. A strike is when—"

"You will desist now, and you will submit yourself to the nearest officer."

"Listen…" Bonden's unfazed. "If you want things to get back to normal around here, you gotta hear out our grievances."

"You will stop this, or I will show you grievances!"

"That attitude's not helping."

"Bonden!"

"Not one bit."

"If you don't—"

"Look, you can lock me up if you want, but it won't make everyone go back to work. If you want to end this, you need to listen to our grievances and meet our demands."

"Demands!?"

"Demand, actually. There's only one."

Hux stiffens. He waits a few seconds, teeth gritted. "What is it?"

"Simple. We want Kylo Ren back."

His eyes flare.

"We want things to be like they were."

"That will never happen," Hux hisses into the comm. "I will rip this organization to shreds before that happens. Do you hear me?"

Silence.

"Bonden?"

Nothing.

"Bonden!?"

Seconds pass.

"Bonden, you will answer now or—"

"Hey! Sorry. I got distracted."

Hux clenches his fists.

"Listen… I gotta go."

"Bonden, if you—"

"I've got a friend coming in, and I need to make sure everything's ready for him, but don't worry…" There's a smirk in his voice. "I'll see you soon."

"You've got that right." Hux leans into the comm. "You're about to suffer the worst punishment in First Order history. When I'm done with you, you'll be nothing but—"

The comm goes dead.

Hux stares at the console. Every eye in the room is on him, the officers frozen in their seats.

"Petrov!" Hux jerks up. "Where are those sergeants?"

"They've reached the port, sir, but they're unable to enter."

"Why not?"

"The sergeant on comm says it's surrounded by troops, a dozen units at least."

"What!? Why are there—"

"Sir!" The captain interrupts. "We just picked up a ship coming out of hyperspace. It's small, a one-man flyer, approaching the Supremacy now."

Everyone bursts out of their chairs, crowding the captain.

"Is it one of ours?" Voigt leans in.

"No. It's unregistered, but it seems know it's way around. It's heading straight for the landing bay."

Hux goes cold. "Shoot it!" He flies at the captain."Blast it with the ventral cannons!"

"Right away, sir." The captain scrambles.

"Shoot it NOW!" Hux shoves Voigt out of the way. "Don't you know how to operate the cannons?"

"Of course, sir, but I'm not accustomed to—"

"DO IT!"

The captain moves wildly, hands trembling.

Suddenly, he stops.

"Is it gone?" Hux breathes down his neck.

"I-it… It just passed through the shields."

"Impossible!" Meric comes up beside them. "No ship can enter without approval from an officer."

"I can't blast it." The captain shakes his head. "It's flying too close."

"Idiot! You've misread the radar." Meric hovers over the console. "It can't get through the shields."

"It can, and it has."

Meric ignores him, focusing on the radar. After a few seconds, his shoulders fall. "He's right." He looks to Hux "The ship's through the shields, but… how?"

Hux stands frozen, the realization hitting like ice in the blood.

This isn't a strike…

It's a coup, the First Order effectively shut down, troops waiting at one of the ports, an unidentified ship passing through the shields…

And he knows exactly who's in it.

Panic creeps up his limbs. He jerks to the walkway, searching.

Someone's betrayed him…

The generals murmur to each other, fear spreading like a contagion. They're catching on— what's happening, what it means— but the question is who doesn't look afraid?

Hux rakes their faces, quickly zeroing on Voigt standing apart from the crowd. "You." He points at him.

The murmurs die.

"Traitor!" Hux flies at the general. "You and that little shit are working together."

"What?" Voigt looks shocked. "I don't know what you're talking abou—"

"Lies!" Hux slaps him. "You've done this! You gave him the codes!"

"Who?"

"Don't play dumb." Hux grits his teeth. "How did a lower-ranked gutter rat access the ship's comm system, huh? How did he lower the shields?"

Voigt stares dumbly.

"You are a liar and a traitor, and I will execute you—"

"Sir!" The captain interrupts. "The ship just docked at port 44."

Hux turns white. He keeps his eyes on Voigt, reaching for his blaster.

"Don't!" DeVries lunges, gripping his arm. "It's not him. Look around— who's missing?"

Hux glances at the walkway. He scans the generals, quickly realizing his mistake.

Kas.

Of course, it's Kas. He's the only general not on the bridge.

Hux goes limp. He turns from Voigt, eyes hollow.

"It's Ren," DeVries hisses in his ear. "On the ship. He's back."

"I know that."

"So, what do we do?"

Hux refuses to look his friend in the eye. He's in battle mode, furiously assessing the situation.

He needs to get off the bridge. Ren will be here any minute with the troops from the port, but if Hux leaves now, he can make it to a transport, get to Starkiller, then—

Hux sucks in a breath.

But the damn strike. Even if he could prep a ship for takeoff without technicians, who knows what he'll find on Starkiller? With no one in lower ranks doing their damnjobs, the base will be in chaos, the same on the other dreadnoughts…

He's trapped. Ren's backed him into a corner. The best he could hope for is to escape with the generals, but they'd be a government without a body while Ren is here, the First Order at his command.

Hux sinks.

It's over. It's all over. He's lost, and in the worst possible way, his own troops turned against him.

Why didn't he just kill Ren when he had the chance? Why didn't he kill him a year ago after that bitch sliced through the first Supremacy?

Hux gasps.

Holdo.

His eyes light up.

"What?" DeVries searches him.

"Seal the bridge." Hux turns to the general. "Arm yourselves. All of you. You will protect the bridge at all costs."

"But, sir." DeVries looks panicked. "There's no way we can—"

"Get in formation!" Hux shoves him. "Now!"

The general sags but does as he's told.

The others aren't so quick to follow. General Ailen stands stricken, and several officers look around, waiting to see what everyone does. Petrov comes up to Voigt, whispering furiously.

"Meric!" Hux barks.

The young general looks up.

"You're in charge of the defense. If any man refuses command…" Hux drifts to Voigt. "Shoot him."

"Yes, sir."

Voigt glares.

Hux glares back, resting a hand on his blaster.

The older general lingers, but soon turns, joining the rest of the officers crowded by the weapons cache. The captain seals the door while Meric takes over, issuing orders.

Hux observes, hands clasped behind him. Outwardly, he's calm, but inside he's squirming, eager to get the control center at the back of the bridge.

But he must be patient. He can't let the others catch on to what he's about to do…

The officers are in a frenzy, grabbing extra blasters and attaching grenades to their belts. Their faces are a palette of fear and outrage, like they can't believe they're being asked to do this.

Hux watches, wondering how long it's been since any of these men have fired a weapon.

Not that it matters. This is just a distraction.

He looks down, pulling a long silver dagger from his side. He studies it a moment, blue eyes reflecting in the metal.

He tucks the dagger up his sleeve, securing it at the hilt. He looks up to find Meric arranging the officers in rows several meters from the door. Many look terrified, blasters shaking in their hands.

Suddenly, everyone freezes.

A distinct sound approaches, troopers marching in unison.

"Eyes sharp!" Meric paces behind the officers. "You will defend this bridge and your Supreme Leader until death."

The troopers get closer, stopping just outside the door.

Hux scans the officers. When he's satisfied their attention's ahead, he strides to the back of the bridge.

There's no getting out of this, but that doesn't mean he can't win, at least in his own way. He won't let the First Order fall into the wrong hands, not again.

Study your defeats, he heard his father say once. Because in them is the key to your next victory.

Hux moves quickly to the control center.

He can admire Holdo now that the sting of defeat has waned. It was a stroke of genius, really, lightspeeding though the dreadnoughts. It was a desperate move for a desperate situation. Like the one he's in now…

He studies the control a moment, not accustomed to operating it, but he's a quick study. A minute later, and he's maneuvering the ship.

Several officers look back.

"Meric!" Hux barks. "Keep them focused!"

Meric opens his mouth but snaps to the door before issuing the command.

Even from the back of the bridge, Hux hears the commotion outside, a heavy clang followed by a mechanic whine.

"They're cutting through the door!"

"Prepare your weapons!" Meric shouts.

Hux moves quickly, a strange calm descending. His hands are steady, angling the nose of the dreadnaught towards the Finalizer. His only regret is that it will happen so fast, too fast for Ren to know what he's done.

Perhaps there will be a moment, a split second before they're all engulfed in flames, long enough for Ren to know he's been beaten.

Hux activates the hyperdrive, watching as it charges.

Come on…

It inches to half power.

Come on…

His hand hovers over the control.

"Voigt!"

Hux snaps up.

"Back in formation!" Meric growls, but the older general ignores him, moving to the back of the bridge. His eyes are on Hux, the other generals turning to watch.

"What are you doing?" Voigt picks up his pace.

Hux glances down.

Almost there…

"Step away from the control center." Voigt lifts his blaster.

Hux doesn't move.

"I said step away!"

"Meric." Hux glares at Voigt. "Shootthis traitor."

Meric moves to comply, but Petrov lunges, tackling him.

All at once, the bridge is in chaos— blasters firing, men shouting, sparks flying as the troopers cut through the door. Voigt shoots at Hux but only hits his shoulder.

Hux staggers, gripping the wound. He looks down to see the hyperdrive fully charged.

"Back away!" Voigt shoots again but Hux dodges, snatching his blaster from the hilt. Before he can aim, a loud boom rips through the room, shaking the bridge and knocking him off balance.

The door is open now, some of it in pieces, smoke filling the empty space. Hux dives to the control center, eyes on the hyperdrive.

But an unseen force knocks him back, flinging him to the observation portal.

Kylo Ren strides down the walkway, Sylas on his right, General Kas on his left. Troopers pour in behind him, ordering the officers to drop their weapons.

There's a series of clatters as blasters hit the floor, men raising both hands in surrender.

Kylo keeps moving, eyes on Hux. The man's barely on his feet before he lunges to the control center, but Kylo flings him to the wall with a crack.

Hux hisses when he hits the ground, gripping his shoulder.

Kylo strides up to him.

Hux pushes to his feet, a large blood stain on his uniform. He squares his shoulders, meeting Kylo with a searing glare.

Kylo stares coldly. "Armitage Hux." He clasps his hands behind him. "You are charged with conspiracy against the sovereign. You will be taken into custody and—"

"I'm not going anywhe—"

"Don't interrupt." Kylo lifts a hand, squeezing Hux's throat through the Force. "Your Supreme Leader is speaking."

Hux croaks.

"You will be stripped of all ranks and punished accordingly." Kylo steps back. "Take him."

Two troopers step forward.

"Don't touch me!" Hux gasps, relieved of the chokehold. "Unhand me now!"

The troopers ignore him, gripping his arms. "Where to, sir?" One turns Kylo.

"No!" Hux struggles in their grip. "You don't answer to him; you answer to me. He's a traitor and Resistance scum. I am your Supreme Leader. I am the First Order!"

Kylo grunts, shaking his head. "All this time, and you still haven't learned your lesson… You still think the little people don't matter. You still think you're the only one who matters, your vision of how things should be." Kylo steps in. "But you're wrong. You're not the First Order. Neither am I. They are." He points to the troops filling the bridge. "The First Order is its people. It's the sum of their loyalty, and right now, the majority are loyal to me."

Hux grits his teeth.

"You will be taken to the brig in sector 22, along with your co-conspirators, General Meric and General DeVries." Kylo nods to troopers surrounding the officers on the walkway.

Meric and DeVries look stricken as they're pulled from the crowd. The troopers gripping Hux push him forward, Sylas smirking as they walk by.

"Told ya I'd see you soon." Sylas grins.

Hux fumes.

Kylo steps around the control center, moving to Hux, Meric, and DeVries.

"Sir…" Meric looks panicked. "I'm not a conspirator. I was manipulated. Armitage threatened—"

"Stop talking." Kylo stops in front of them. "According to First Order law, the punishment for treason is death. I have every right to execute you, publicly, for the galaxy to witness your shame."

Meric turns white.

"But…" Kylo scans the men. "The First Order needs to set an example. The galaxy's seen enough bloodshed for the sake of punishment and revenge."

Meric relaxes.

"Killing isn't the only way to deal with an enemy. In place of execution, you will serve life in prison. You will be separated and moved to facilities of my choosing where you will reflect on your crimes." Kylo steps to the side. "Take them away."

Hux glares, maintaining eye contact as the troopers push him and the others forward. They make their way down the walkway, troopers parting to let them through.

"Sir…" Sylas scurries next to Kylo. "Permission to escort the prisoners?"

Kylo looks down, raising an eyebrow.

He should say no. It's a boyish desire, to gloat over the defeated, but he understands the impulse. Hux has always treated Sylas like an insect, and marching him through the Supremacy for all to see would be the sweetest revenge…

Sylas bobs eagerly, waiting.

"Go." Kylo nods to the door. "But come back as soon as it's done."

"Yes, sir." Sylas barely answers before racing away.

Kylo follows with his eyes. Once Sylas disappears, he turns to the other generals huddled on the walkway.

They're packed tight, surrounded by troopers, several gaping like he's come back from the dead.

"As for the rest of you…" Kylo steps forward. "You didn't plot the mutiny, but you supported it, which makes you just as guilty."

A few of them gulp, and others stiffen. Voigt keeps his head down.

"But you're not the only ones guilty of betrayal. I betrayed you first."

Voigt snaps up.

"I deceived you." Kylo looks him in the eye. "I let you defend me against accusations that were true, violated your trust and integrity. In this way, I'm as guilty as you are."

The generals study him, surprised.

Kylo turns, stepping down the walkway. "Snoke once told me the Supreme Leader is beholden to no one. He owes nothing to those beneath him— no loyalty, no truth, no respect." He halts. "But I disagree." He turns to the generals. "I believe the sovereign owes the same honesty and loyalty afforded to him. It's a contract between ruler and ruled, and I broke that contract. I failed you, so you failed me in return. Now the question is how do we move forward, how do we rebuild trust between us…"

He begins pacing, hands clasped behind him.

"It begins here, with a pledge. You have my word that I'll never again withhold vital information from you, and in return, you can either recommit yourselves to my vision for the Order, or you can walk away. You can leave this organization without punishment or reprisal, but you must decide now." He faces the generals.

They glance each other.

General Kas moves beside Kylo, giving him a nod.

Kylo nods back, then waits, scanning the generals.

"I'm with you, sir." Voigt steps forward.

"As am I." Petrov follows.

Ailen looks between Kylo and those who stay back, uncertain what to do. After a moment, he straightens. "Me too." He joins Petrov and Voigt. "I'm with you, sir."

The others raise their eyebrows. A tense silence passes before another general steps forward.

Slowly, one by one, the remainder follow, some with confidence, some with wariness. Kylo studies them, focusing on individuals.

The motivations to join him are varied. Some are truly loyal. Others are uncertain. A few harbor resentment, perhaps mutinous intentions, but Kylo isn't overly concerned. No leader has the loyalty of all his followers, and even if one of these men has designs to be the new Hux, they've all just learned it's not so easy to get rid of him.

The troops filling the bridge bear testament to this, and from them, Kylo senses no ambiguity. Stepping off the ship after landing in the port was a scene he'll never forget— Sylas, Kas, and hundreds of troopers rushing to meet him. Their emotions reminded of the way he felt as a boy when his father returned from a long trip. Sylas actually hugged him, and the troopers cheered, stomping their feet.

Their Supreme Leader had come home.

Kylo feels at home, surrounded by men who risked everything to bring him here, General Kas at his side. He scans the other generals, looking each one in the eye. He opens his mouth to speak but stops when he hears a commotion outside.

"Supreme Leader!" A trooper shouts, far away but getting closer. "Someone get the Supreme Leader! Now!"

Kylo steps forward, the generals parting to let him through. The troopers outside are out of formation, a buzz filling the hall.

"Supreme Leader!" A trooper pushes past the others. "The prisoner! He got away from us. We restrained him, but not before…"

Kylo goes cold.

He hurries past the trooper, a wall of white armor parting like the sea. He closes his eyes, reaching out through the Force.

A second later, he bursts into a run. He races through the dreadnought, everything around him a blur. He slows when he whips around a corner to see troopers massed in the hall. Several look back as he approaches, grabbing their friends to pull them away.

Kylo could swear his heart stops.

He knew what he'd see when the crowd parted, but that doesn't make the image less gutting.

Sylas is lying in a pool of blood, an unmasked trooper beside him.

Kylo rushes to them, crouching.

"I'm a field medic, sir." The trooper looks up. "The weapon entered left of the lumbar and pierced through to the front." He nods to a dagger on the floor. "Based on the color of blood, it pierced a vital organ. A med team's on its way but…"

Kylo reaches out, hovering over the wound.

Sylas is on his back, breathing weakly. His eyes are closed and his face is ashen, almost gray. Everything about the image is wrong, a body that should be full of life lying limp like it's already a corpse.

"Sylas…?" Kylo sidles closer to his head.

The boy moans.

"Sylas?" Kylo strokes his hair back.

Sylas blinks. When he sees Kylo, he tries to sit up.

"No!" Both Kylo and the field medic press him down.

"Stay still." Kylo keeps a hand on his forehead. "Don't move. Don't talk. The med team's on their way."

Sylas winces, closing his eyes.

"It's ok." Kylo swallows. "You're ok."

Sylas slides an eye open. It's bleary, like he's been sleeping. "At least I got to see you."

"Don't talk."

"At least I got to do this for you." He coughs. "At least…" His lids drift closed.

"Sylas?" Kylo leans in. "Sylas?"

He wheezes, struggling to breathe.

Kylo goes slack. He's vaguely aware of the crowd, troopers hovering around him, others observing from a distance, but can't look away from Sylas. He's never felt more helpless watching his life force diminish, nothing he can do about it.

If only Rey were here…

Kylo snaps up. Without thinking, he pulls off a glove, moving closer to the wound. He extends a hand.

There's commotion down the hall, the med team clattering towards him.

"Stop them." Kylo closes his eyes. "Tell them to stay back."

The field medic rises, rushing away.

Kylo's never done this before, but it doesn't matter. There's a calmness in him now, some hidden part that knows what to do.

He pictures the training room, blue matted floors, Rey standing in front of him, her hand at his shoulder.

Rey.

Rey, who parted a sea without thinking. Rey who can freeze time, commune with kyber crystals, the most powerful person he's ever known, yet she doesn't care about her power unless she can use it to help people.

Rey, who loves monsters and broken things, who feels compassion for her enemies.

A warmth rises in his core, a gentle burn stretching to his chest.

Who would he be without her? He doesn't even want to imagine it.

She's the reason he accomplished what he did today. She's the reason he met Sylas, promoted him, got to know him.

Sylas.

Kylo pictures him in his mind— that sly smile, the glint in his eyes— and he realizes couldn't love the boy more if he were his own son. He's so damn smart, so brave, so loyal…

Kylo squeezes his eyes shut, warmth surging through his limbs.

Sylas is the true hero today, not just because he organized the strike but because he's the reason Kylo took an interest in the lower ranks. They wouldn't be so loyal to him if it weren't for Sylas and his influence.

Kylo feels the troopers watching, attentive and concerned, and he realizes…

He loves them too. Every person who participated in the strike and even those who didn't, the entire First Order… They're his children. He doesn't know when he started thinking of them that way, but the truth of it hits like a hot spring, filling him with life.

Yes. He cares for the First Order's people like a father for his children, wants to protect them, keep them safe. He feels them standing in the hall, moving through the dreadnaught, all the dreadnaughts, Starkiller, every base and center, people he's never met, yet somehow, he loves them. They've worked for him, sacrificed for him, and he's going to watch over them, give them every opportunity for a long life.

He won't let their legacy be bloodshed. He's going to transform the First Order, make it into something the galaxy's never seen. He can't replace the lives they've taken, but he can care for the lives still here. Every sentient on every planet will know a better time, an era where their lives are held as sacred, not pawns in a galactic power play.

He pictures them, billions of families, villages, and cities on millions of planets across the galaxy, and he feels himself expand, break free of skin and bone to become pure energy, stretching infinitely to cover everything under a cloak of protection. He's not Kylo anymore; He's the kyber crystals, seeing everything and caring for it all, a steward of life.

Slowly, he recedes, pieces of himself flying back to remake his body— arms, legs, lungs. He takes a deep breath and holds it in, waiting until he feels like Kylo again. He lets it out slowly, remembering where he is, crouched in front of Sylas on the Supremacy. He opens his eyes.

Sylas is on the floor, but he's sitting up now, gaping at his stomach.

There's scarring, remnants of wounds from another time, but the hole in his body is gone, only smears of blood remaining. Kylo rests his hand on the spot, pressing gently.

Sylas jumps.

Kylo snaps up to find him smiling.

Sylas pokes at his stomach, testing. After a minute, he looks to Kylo. "I didn't know you could that."

"Neither did I."

Their lips curl.

Someone coughs, and they both jerk up.

Everyone's staring, troopers all around them, the med team several meters down, crowds of officers, operators, and technicians on either end of the hall.

Kylo stands, helping Sylas from the floor, searching for any sign of pain or discomfort.

He's grinning ear to ear, turning to look around.

There's low buzz not far, the crowd extending farther than Kylo can see. Everyone keeps staring, waiting for Kylo to move or speak. He looks to Sylas to find a glint in his eye.

Sylas winks, then steps back, cupping his hands around his mouth. "All hail the Supreme Leader!"