Brendol Hux the Second

How had they been so lucky as to capture the assistant to the Supreme Leader of the First Order’s attack dog? The knowledge the man must have about the Order! It was acknowledged by the General that they were to extract any information they could. It fell to Rey to do so.

She hated interrogating. When it came to sifting through memories, she hated the intrusive feeling of it.

Rey waited until the Resistance transport docked with the mercenary ship before striding aboard with her escort.

The Girl. The Girl who killed Snoke. Another small whimper escaped Bren, and he wondered if maybe fainting wouldn't be the best option.

There probably wasn't to be any torture then, at least none physical. There wasn't much point in beating your prisoners when you could just tear into their minds directly and rip out whatever you needed.

Kylo had been attempting to meditate and sort out his thoughts when a sudden wave of emotional trauma washed over him.  He immediately knew the source, and leapt to his feet, running to the throne room elevator.

In less than a minute, Kylo cleared the distance to where he sensed Brendol’s distress, and found General Hux looming menacingly over him, his hands clutching violently at the boy.

Quickly, Ren reached out through the Force, tearing the elder Hux away from his son and pinning him to a bulkhead.

“Brendol, leave us.  Your father and I have something to discuss.”

Ren waited for the young boy to leave before approaching Armitage.

“Are you so insecure, so emotionally weak that you’d terrorize your own son?  Explain to me why *I* shouldn’t send *you* out that airlock!!!”  Kylo snarled viciously.

Bren didn't need to be told twice to leave, though it took him a brief moment to finally will his legs to move. He ran until he thought he was far enough away, at least far enough to not hear it should the Supreme Leader decide to murder his father.

Honestly though, he couldn't hear anything apart from his own racing heart, and his short, frantic breaths. His face felt hot, as though he was about to cry, and his head was swimming.

Don't faint, he told himself. Whatever you do, don't faint. He slid down the wall until he was on the ground, and pulled his legs close to his chest. His heart pounded, and he couldn't get his breathing level, but he managed to remain conscious.

He couldn't stop the tears which had broken free and were now making their way down his cheeks, however, nor could he do away with the overwhelming sense of dread that the Supreme Leader was going to murder his father. Despite himself he forced himself back to his feet,and started his way back to where the two men had been.

-------

His father, meanwhile, resisted the urge to struggle against Ren's hold on him.

"I've come too far," he said, "and have done too much, to let anyone stand in my way. Not even my own son. And he is my son, Ren. He doesn't actually care about helping you, he only wants a shield." Hux's eyes then strayed past Ren, and to a small form which had reappeared behind him.

"Sir," Brendol said, his voice the mechanical tone of someone who had retreated inwards, and was solely running off a script. "The General is vital to the First Order."

The Supreme Leader nodded, allowing the young Hux to excuse himself.  “Tell your father that if he has any objection, he should speak to me directly.  I’ll sort things out with him.”

Deep within him burned a new level of resentment for the First Order general.  To know that he treated his son with such disdain and disregard for his feelings enraged him.  Brendol wasn’t a part of this war.  He wasn’t an asset yet.  He’s a child with so much still to learn, but not by the brutal methods of his father, learned from his father before him.

"Yes sir," Brendol said, ducking his head. "Thank you sir." He turned and left, heading back into the lift and entering the floor of the bridge. A bundle of nervous energy had built up in his chest, and he spent the majority of the ride, and almost the entirety of the walk to the bridge, trying to steady himself.

His father paused in an order, glancing at him out of the corner of his eye, before returning to his work. That glance said it all, 'Wait until I am finished.'

After whatever he was attending to was completed Hux turned and approached his son.

"You're alive," he said, his voice cold. "How did you manage that?" Bren swallowed, clasping his hands behind his back.

"H-he sh-showed n-no aggression t-towards me, s-sir," Bren answered. Hux nodded.

"Anything else to report?" Bren swallowed, straitening.

"He made me his a-assistant, sir," Bren said. "It was my suggestion." Something about Hux hardened at that, and he turned away from his son.

"Opan, you have the bridge until I return," he said. He turned back to Bren. "Follow me, Brendol." His tone left no room for debate, and so Bren did follow.

His father brought him to a remote part of the ship, near an airlock, and once he was sure they were alone he grabbed Bren, one hand on the boy's shoulder and the other around his throat.

"I suppose you think you're clever," Hux hissed, tightening his grip. "Get close to the Supreme Leader, then have me dealt with. Don't think I haven't seen it before." Bren's mind had gone blank, lost in its panic. His heart raced in his chest like a trapped animal, and his breath caught and held in his throat, even without his father's grip.

As Brendol spoke, Kylo listened and observed and, to his surprise, found his heart aching for the boy.  His eyes seemed to sparkle as he talked about his beloved cat, and he could hear the yearning for its companionship again. 

As the Knight of Ren’s compassion for Brendol rose, his hatred for Armitage threatened to boil over.  Kylo knew more about the Hux family than he ever let on, and it was clear where Armitage had gotten his skills in tyranny and cruelty.  Whatever the origins of the General’s hostility, he could not accept it being brought down against a boy who had done nothing to earn such contempt.

“Mr. Hux,” Ren said, “I will see to it your pet is brought to you…but you must care for him and keep him safe within your own room.  I don’t want to hear any reports of it running loose.”

"Yes sir," Bren nodded. "I will sir. My intentions were to keep him in my room, where he won't be underfoot. He's very well behaved, sir. I don't think there will be any difficulties. There shouldn't be any difficulties." His voice tapered off and he swallowed, looking down briefly. He struggled to come think of something else to say, and when after a moment nothing came to mind he licked his lips and spoke.

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(Due to the critical/negative opinions and in an attempt to keep this out of the H//ux tag, I’ll be referring to him as Arms)

Arms is a terrible father!

First off he didn’t even really want a kid. Bren was exclusively conceived because he needed an heir. He didn’t want a son, he wanted a soldier to carry on his genetics.

At best, Bren’s childhood was neglectful. At worst, it was extremely emotionally abusive, and also physically abusive.

It was never as violently apparent as sustained beatings, but Arms was not above using physical punishments if Bren failed to perform to his expectations. 

This includes being forced to sustain stress positions, and occasionally being slapped across the face.

Emotionally speaking, Bren has never felt truly loved by his father. Arms always treated his son like he was never good enough.

His mother was at least, emotionally distant from him, but never outright aggressive to him.

Surprising nobody, Bren has horrible anxiety, and is a terrible perfectionist thanks to this.

He was the top cadet in the FO academy, breaking several of his father’s previously held records. 

Still wasn’t good enough.

Bren could singlehandedly bring the entire galaxy to heel in two years without a single casualty and establish a new Galactic Empire and Arms would probably just. Like. Fucking give him a pat on the back, and make some shitty off-hand comment about the name or smth.

Arms has done nothing good for his son ever. I’ve mentioned that, but I’ll mention it again.

He’s seriously a shitty parent.

He did, however, take active interest in Bren’s training. And he was there, for all of his puberty milestones. He taught Bren how to shave, even bought him an expensive, traditional shaving kit, got him his first suit, and other staples of coming of age.

Granted, he also gave Bren a talk of ‘if you disgrace the family name, I’ll take this razor and slit your throat myself’ so. Still shitty.

Bren is, when not extremely frazzled, prone to being rather emotionally closed off. He’s learned this from his parents, especially his father. He’s very guarded about his personal affair, and it takes him a very long time to open up about being interested in anybody. 

This is because his first boyfriend was, in fact, killed by his father.

Brendol’s request caused a stinging ache in Kylo’s stomach.  The levels of emotional and even physical abuse this boy must have had to endure from his father made the Supreme Leader want to track General Hux down and beat him down to within an inch of his pathetic life.

Kylo couldn’t help but reflect on memories of his own father, Han Solo.  As awkward as he’d been when it came to fatherly duties and expressions of affection, Han was never cruel, never needlessly angry, never hurtful in the rare, far too brief moments his son spent with him.  He’d always try to teach him something or share some real-world wisdom that no Jedi tome could ever offer.  Kylo wondered if Brendol ever wanted that from his father; if he’d even know what fatherly affection was.

Ren swallowed the pain hard and spoke.  “I would. You’d answer to me, not to him.  I will not allow him to punish you for your service to me, whatever its outcome.  What is the second request?”

Brendol brightened at those words. He didn't think the Supreme Leader would be able to protect him from everything, he was far too likely to be alone with his father for that to be possible, but the reassurance left him hopeful that he was safe from the worst of it. If nothing else, his father wouldn't able to decide he was a lost cause, and kill him, without facing retribution. He could handle the rest, if he didn't need to fear for his life.

"Thank you, sir," Brendol said, bowing his head slightly. "Thank you. You won't regret this, I promise you that."

The second request. Bren straightened himself a bit. Next to his first request it trivial, barely worth mentioning, but if he could have it he wanted it.

The Supreme Leader sat back in his throne, watching as Brendol tried desperately to recover from his faux pas.  He sympathized with the boy; he had struggled in his younger years to get the love, attention and appreciation of his father as well.  Han Solo did his best to try and give that to him, but looking back on those faint memories, Kylo observed that Han always seemed uncomfortable around him, as if he worried that he’d give his son the wrong advice or somehow lead him astray.

The memory jarred him; he’d barely thought of his father since Starkiller, so seeing him again in his mind’s eye was especially painful.

He focused his attention on Brendol once again and said, “I suspect that’s the most you’ve said to anyone, including your father, in a long time.  Don’t be ashamed.  You come from a proud bloodline of influential men…and I think that with time, you’ll become another one of them.”

Kylo stood from his throne and approached the boy, saying, “I believe I could use the extra help.  There’s much work to be done before we can finish off what’s left of the Resistance.  You will be my assistant, Mr. Hux.  Do you believe you can handle the work that will be involved?”

Brendol wasn't sure if it was some sort of mind trick or just his own desire to please which made him feel more and more at ease with Kylo Ren. Perhaps it was the man himself, he seemed far more patient than Brendol had been led to believe by his father, more tolerant of Brendol's anxiety than the elder Hux had ever been.

That didn't stop Brendol from flinching back, however, when the man rose from his throne and approached him. His father's warning, and the man's reputation, were both too present in his head for him to stop himself.

His words were promising, though, and Bren perked up a bit at them. "I do, Sir," he said. "I have a good eye for data and numbers, and I find sorting and organizing information calming. I'm more at ease with a data pad than I am any sort of weapon. Not that I am defenseless, I can fire a blaster, and fight unarmed if I must, I simply prefer not to." He looked at Ren and swallowed, his tongue feeling heavy once more.

Ask, he urged himself. Ask him now, while you still have the nerve. Before you lose heart.

Commission for the @theload.

Brendol Hux the Second, son of General Armitage Hux.

Kylo watched and listened to every move and word from Brendol as the boy approached the throne, noting internally that the younger Hux behaved not unlike an animal so used to brutal punishment from its owner that everything it did came with the fearful anticipation of reprisal.

Was it like this for Armitage, as well?  How cruel a taskmaster was Brendol Hux in his heyday?  Ren wondered silently.

“Well,” Kylo finally spoke, “Brendol Armitage Hux the Second, you’re correct.  You don’t need your father to chaperone you.  You’re old enough to take care of yourself…and I suspect you do quite often, as your father is so often indisposed with following my orders.”

The Supreme Leader leaned forward, his voice softening ever so slightly.  “Relax, Brendol.  Whatever warnings your father gave you about what I might do to you were likely significantly exaggerated.  Your fear is drowning out your thoughts.  Breathe…and speak your mind.”

Brendol flinched at those words, unsure how to go on. It felt like a trick, like a lie, but the worst kind. The kind which were more comforting than the truth. Still, Ren hadn't killed him yet, so perhaps his father had simply been overly cautious with his warning. If nothing else, it was a comforting thought.

"A-apologies, Sir," Brendol said, forcing himself to stand a bit taller. "My father..." he paused, trying to think of how best to move forward. "I am aware of the fact that you and my father often times do not see eye to eye, and I am far more disposable than my father is. The thirteen years of investment would be a punishing blow."

A thought came to Brendol, a frantic, desperate thought, and he stepped forward. "But I won't be so disposable forever, Sir. My father, he has been raising me to take his place, and while I lack his experience I am capable. My marks are all sound, and I've managed to meet a handful of my father's academy records. I've even managed to beat a few." That had earned him a 'Well done, Brendol' from his father, but there had been something in the elder Hux's eyes. Something that made Brendol feel as though he had somehow failed.

"My father is worried that my studies are stagnating without his supervision, so he intends to keep me aboard with him. The paperwork should have gone through, Sir. If I am going to be staying aboard, I would like the chance to prove myself. Your promotion was recent, and rather sudden, and I could help pick up some of the slack. I'm good with numbers and paperwork, and I-"

His mind finally caught up with his words, and he snapped his mouth shut. He stumbled back, beginning to feel faint.

Since Crait, Kylo Ren focused his mind on the Dark Side, once again seeking its strength through anger and bitter resentment of all who’d wronged him.  And yet, he’d occasionally try to reach out to Rey through the Force.  He needed to see her again, needed to feel the slightest shred of understanding and kindness that she’d afforded him before.  ‘

She was shutting him out, however; closing her mind to him deliberately, and this only strengthened his anger.  He’d made a terrible mistake, and not only was she punishing him for it, he was punishing himself and giving in to hate.

The sound of the lift to the Throne Room opening, then closing again pulled Kylo out of his reverie.  Before him, at the doorway, stood a scared boy who looked rather strikingly like a younger version of General Hux.

A son.  I never knew he had a son, Ren thought to himself.

“Come forward,” he beckoned.  “I assume your father left you here to introduce yourself.”

A simple enough order to follow, or at least it would have been, had Brendol's legs not locked into place the second he was noticed. It took more effort than it should have to force himself to take those first few steps, and even more effort to keep himself at attention. Cowering would have been far more appealing, though far less dignified.

Stand up straight, he repeated to himself. Neither bow, nor kneel, unless directly ordered. He wasn't sure if this point was because of his father's pride, or because it was genuinely not expected of him. Or perhaps his father had deemed him a lost cause, and was setting him up for failure. Do not disappoint me, or it won't matter what Ren does, I'll kill you myself.

"M-my Father has o-other d-dut-ties, S-sir," Brendol stuttered out. Speak clearly, or do not speak at all. Already failed, though Brendol doubted that standing before his new Supreme Leader, struck mute, would have been a wise course of action. "I d-d-do not n-n-n-need him to chap-perone me e-everywhere." Speak clearly or do not speak at all. "Sir."

Brendol took a deep breath, trying to force some semblance of calm over himself. He was simply addressing a superior, not so different than when he spoke to his teachers. Granted, none of his teachers openly loathed his father.