General Hux had never known the Force. He considered it a superstition cloaked in mysticism, an unreliable tool for unstable minds like Kylo Ren’s. It irritated him endlessly that such irrational power could shape the galaxy when intellect and discipline were far superior weapons. And yet, despite his disdain, Hux found himself unwillingly entangled in something he could neither quantify nor command.

The scavenger.

The same Force-sensitive creature Kylo Ren was so obsessed with capturing, the one who haunted Ren’s every waking moment and failure. Somehow, impossibly, they had formed a Force bond—one that didn’t only link them to Kylo, but, at unpredictable intervals, to Hux as well. It made no sense. He had studied it, searched for a logical explanation, dismissed it, and still it persisted. The connection sparked at the strangest times—when he was working, when he slept, even once in the middle of a briefing. And though he despised the disruption, he had to admit… conversations with the scavenger were far more tolerable than with Kylo Ren.

Now, seated at his desk in his private chambers aboard the Finalizer, Hux was buried in a sea of datapads and tactical reports. The quiet hum of the destroyer was steady in the background, the kind of silence that made his work bearable. Then, without warning, that familiar flicker touched the edges of his consciousness—a faint vibration, like static humming through his mind.

His pen froze mid-line.

When he lifted his head, there they were.

Not in the room, not truly, but there all the same—standing before his desk, their image crisp against the sterile glow of his quarters. He couldn’t see their surroundings, only them. The Force seemed to draw their likeness out of nothing, bending logic in a way that made his stomach twist.

He sighed quietly, setting the pen aside with deliberate calm. “So,” he said dryly, leaning back in his chair as if this were a routine intrusion. “It’s you again.”

For someone who claimed no belief in the Force, Hux had grown almost accustomed to it—to them.

And though he’d never admit it aloud, there were times when he didn’t entirely mind the interruption.