No one else could see or hear the Force Ghost. Not Phasma. Not his crew. Not even the Supreme Leader during a very uncomfortable meeting where the ghost had alternated between mocking Snoke and raving over his grandson. A whole week with his own personal demon that seemed determined to drive him to an early grave. Hux was not a weak man but even he had his limits, and as much as he hated it, the stress was starting to get to him. There’d been more verbal fights with Kylo Ren, short conversations with his officers, and even the troops were tiptoeing around him the same way they reacted to Kylo in one of his tantrums.
Hux was in his office with a mug of caf beside him. He was going over expense reports on his holpad and wondered if he should dip into the slush fund because of another completely inappropriate tantrum Kylo had. Kylo and his stupid kriffing map. Hux would never understand why the Supreme Leader was so lenient with the Force user when he was more trouble than he was worth.
His holopad dinged signaling another message and Hux swiped it open to read the message:
DID YOU HEAR KYLO REN HAS AN EIGHT PACK? HE’S SHREDDED! TAKE A LOOK AT THIS TRAINING VIDEO; YOU WILL NOT BELIEVE YOUR EYES. WHAT AN ATTRACTIVE YOUNG MAN.
“What!” The screen cracked when Hux threw it against the wall in a rare fit or rage. It clattered to the steel floor face up where Hux could see Ren’s video automatically playing with the sound at high volume. “Ghost you get out here right now,” the redhead snarled. He was done with ignoring the being’s presence in the vain hope it would go away. “I know you can hear me!”
The ghost appeared sitting on the edge of Hux’s desk as if he’d always been there. “I see you got my message,” he said and fondly looked at the video of his grandson practicing his forms. “Manipulating electronics is hard when you’re a ghost, but I’ve always been talented.”
“I need you to stop meddling in my affairs,” Hux demanded and rose to his feet. His nails bit into his palms to stop himself from shaking in furious anger as he attempted to look down his nose at the ghost. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but I have a ship to run and I don’t need to hear anything else about Kylo Ren. Do I make myself clear?”
The ghost’s lips kicked up in a small smile. “You know, when you sound like that you remind me of my old master,” he said placidly. He didn’t seem fazed with a near empty mug of caf went sailing though the air and passed through him to shatter again the wall right near the blaster scorch mark. “Of course he never threw anything,” the ghost added more to himself.
“Get. Out.”
The ghost held up his hands as if in surrender before winking out of existence.
Hux sighed and slumped back down in his chair, too tired to sit properly as his father had drilled into his head since a young age. The ever-present pounding behind his eyes was worse than before. Cark it, he thought, and pulled out a tumbler and a very expensive bottle of whiskey from his desk. Only when he was on his second glass did he feel in control enough to get back to work.
“Mitaka,” Hux said through the comm link.
“Yes, Sir?”
“I need a holopad sent to my quarters. My previous one has malfunctioned.” He looked to the side to see the tech had stopped working. Liquid must have spilled on it from his ill thought out plan of hurling his mug at the ghost. It sadly sparked, the broken screen filled with static before going dark.
“Right away, Sir,” Mitaka responded back swiftly.
Hux cut the line, satisfied that as least he still had some semblance of control in his life. He would work on the rest of the reports for another hour or so before taking a sorely needed shower. It was one of the few luxuries he permitted for himself, and he looked forward to having the hot spray work out some of the tension. He most definitely needed it.
Re: [Fill] Matchmaker, Matchmaker 3/?
Hux was in his office with a mug of caf beside him. He was going over expense reports on his holpad and wondered if he should dip into the slush fund because of another completely inappropriate tantrum Kylo had. Kylo and his stupid kriffing map. Hux would never understand why the Supreme Leader was so lenient with the Force user when he was more trouble than he was worth.
His holopad dinged signaling another message and Hux swiped it open to read the message:
DID YOU HEAR KYLO REN HAS AN EIGHT PACK? HE’S SHREDDED! TAKE A LOOK AT THIS TRAINING VIDEO; YOU WILL NOT BELIEVE YOUR EYES. WHAT AN ATTRACTIVE YOUNG MAN.
“What!” The screen cracked when Hux threw it against the wall in a rare fit or rage. It clattered to the steel floor face up where Hux could see Ren’s video automatically playing with the sound at high volume. “Ghost you get out here right now,” the redhead snarled. He was done with ignoring the being’s presence in the vain hope it would go away. “I know you can hear me!”
The ghost appeared sitting on the edge of Hux’s desk as if he’d always been there. “I see you got my message,” he said and fondly looked at the video of his grandson practicing his forms. “Manipulating electronics is hard when you’re a ghost, but I’ve always been talented.”
“I need you to stop meddling in my affairs,” Hux demanded and rose to his feet. His nails bit into his palms to stop himself from shaking in furious anger as he attempted to look down his nose at the ghost. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but I have a ship to run and I don’t need to hear anything else about Kylo Ren. Do I make myself clear?”
The ghost’s lips kicked up in a small smile. “You know, when you sound like that you remind me of my old master,” he said placidly. He didn’t seem fazed with a near empty mug of caf went sailing though the air and passed through him to shatter again the wall right near the blaster scorch mark. “Of course he never threw anything,” the ghost added more to himself.
“Get. Out.”
The ghost held up his hands as if in surrender before winking out of existence.
Hux sighed and slumped back down in his chair, too tired to sit properly as his father had drilled into his head since a young age. The ever-present pounding behind his eyes was worse than before. Cark it, he thought, and pulled out a tumbler and a very expensive bottle of whiskey from his desk. Only when he was on his second glass did he feel in control enough to get back to work.
“Mitaka,” Hux said through the comm link.
“Yes, Sir?”
“I need a holopad sent to my quarters. My previous one has malfunctioned.” He looked to the side to see the tech had stopped working. Liquid must have spilled on it from his ill thought out plan of hurling his mug at the ghost. It sadly sparked, the broken screen filled with static before going dark.
“Right away, Sir,” Mitaka responded back swiftly.
Hux cut the line, satisfied that as least he still had some semblance of control in his life. He would work on the rest of the reports for another hour or so before taking a sorely needed shower. It was one of the few luxuries he permitted for himself, and he looked forward to having the hot spray work out some of the tension. He most definitely needed it.