#chromiumcaptain

A chime at the door drew Hux’s attention away from his paperwork.   (Time already?)   Most interruptions to his workflow irritated him, but the chromium-clad warrior in his doorway was always worth his time. He put away his datapad and retrieved a bottle of whiskey from his desk. As a younger officer Hux had always disdained his superiors who kept liquor in their offices, but when his responsibilities   (and stress)   increased he allowed himself to bend his own rule on two occasions: 1) The Knights of Ren had destroyed something valuable; 2) Drinks with Phasma.

“At ease, Captain. Have a seat.”  Hux poured two drinks and slid one across the desk.  “What news do you have for me today? And I don’t want to hear any more about Aiya Ren and Seventh Sister unless one of them is dead. Is FN-2187 any closer to mutiny? Or dare I hope that you’ve come across any new leads on Brendol.”  Hux will not refer to that worm as ‘my father.’