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Hux’s knuckles whitened as he gripped the datapad, and read yet another infuriating message from Grand Moff Tarkin.
[G.M.Tarkin]: General, please accept our apologies as we must cancel the meeting scheduled today. See my personal assistant to schedule a future conference.
This was the fourth time Grand Moff Tarkin had canceled a meeting with the general and time was running short. Any day now, Tarkin was to announce the promotion of the next Major General of the Empire and not once had the Grand Moff contacted Hux for so much as an interview.
I am the obvious choice, how am I the only one who sees this?
Hux drew in a deep breath and pounded a response back.
[B.G. Hux]: Of course, Sir. I will be contacting your secretary shortly.
He mashed the “Send” button which made a mild, unsatisfying beep unreflective of his irritation.
Hux marched through the halls of the Death Star. He passed construction workers and stormtroopers alike as the imperial space station was receiving its final cosmetic touches before becoming fully operational. If this base was going to succeed, it would be the young general that would make sure it exceeded the Empire’s expectations.
“Where is he?” Hux demanded, slapping his gloved hand on the assistant’s desk. The assistant, a sweet-faced man with black hair combed back and owlish brown eyes blinked at the general.
“Sir, he is in a very important meeting and cannot be disturbed.”
I’m sure he is. A very important meeting of reclining in a lounge chair, sipping sherry and laughing at my expense.
“Which conference room, Mitaka,” the general demanded.
The assistant looked nervous, as he always did, but as intimidated as the boy always looked he held firm. “Sir, I cannot divulge that information. The Grand Moff is in a meeting and like I said, cannot be disturbed.”
Hux looked down the long hallway where all that stood between him and the hall was the impudent assistant’s desk.
There were several other rooms lining the hall, all possessing dimly lit control panels indicating the rooms were empty. He spotted at the far end of the hall a faintly blinking green light. There was one conference room occupied: The War Room.
Hux licked his lips. Like all superior officers, Hux had access to the War Room, but no one dared to enter without Tarkin’s expressed permission, which as far as Hux knew had never been granted.
That room was dedicated to Tarkin and Tarkin alone.
Which means Tarkin is alone in that room right now.
This was his chance. Either for promotion or court martial for insubordination.
But when was Hux ever afraid of taking risks?
“Sir, you can't go back there!” Mitaka said. Hux slammed his shoulder into Mitaka’s chest, sending the assistant sprawling back in his chair, which tipped over to the ground. Hux walked briskly to the War Room and swiped the keycard through the panel slot. Hux glanced back at Mitaka who was scrambling to his feet just as the blinking green light of the control panel turned solid. Giving the assistant a final sneer, Hux strode confidently through the War Room door as it slid open.
The War Room was smaller than he had expected. Unlike the grandiose War Rooms of the average star destroyer, Tarkin’s War Room was modest and practical as though meant for more intimate, clandestine stratagems. A long black table with a dozen chairs sat in the center of the room, a projection ring built within its center. A star chart of the galaxy rotated slowly in the center as though in sleep mode.
Off to the side of the room were four plush lounge chairs arranged around a circular table.
Hux expected only Tarkin to occupy this lounge area. Instead Hux found himself looking at two pairs of eyes, both staring at him with mild disdain.
“Well,” Grand Moff Tarkin said, taking another sip of his wine. “I do believe the Brigadier General has stumbled into the wrong room.”
Director Krennic, who sat just to the right of Tarkin, tilted his head. “Tell us, boy, did you lose your way to the mess hall?”
Tarkin donned his standard imperial uniform, a crisp olive green jacket and trousers well tailored to his long, lean form. He was a severe looking man with a prominent nose, high cheekbones and a stern brow. Despite sitting leisurely, ankle upon knee, back sinking into the cushioned seat, he did not appear relax, as though ready to shoot from his chair and shove Hux out the door at any moment.
Krennic, meanwhile, seemed perfectly relaxed, wearing only his white uniform pants and a standard issue white tank shirt that revealed broad shoulders and elegantly muscled arms. His gaze was more aggressive, his blue eyes a pair of infernos eager to burn Hux for his insubordination.
Hux clicked his heels together, saluting them both and ignoring the alarm blaring in his head that this was altogether wrong and he should leave immediately.
“Sir, I have not lost my way. I must speak to the Grand Moff about a most urgent matter.”
“The position of Major General is most urgent, is it?” Tarkin said, stroking his pointed chin, a thin amused smile crossing over his angular face.
He knows. Of course he knows. Why else would I be so desperate as to break protocol. Stars, what am I doing?
“It is if you make the wrong choice,” Hux said. If he was going to be court martialed, he might as well give it his all before he goes.
At this Krennic smirked, his piercing blue eyes glittering cruelly at Hux. “And you are the right choice are you?”
“I am the only choice,” Hux shot back. His heart hammered furiously in his chest.
Tarkin sat up at this and set his wineglass down. “Young man, at this moment you are standing on very thin ice. You have walked into a sensitive superior officers’ meeting unannounced. You have blatantly disregarded my direct orders to set up a meeting at a later date and,” he arched an austere eyebrow at the general, “you openly question my decisions on who to promote in my Imperial Army?”
Hux was not known to cower. Yet the scrutinizing look of the Grand Moff and the Director weighed down on Hux’s resolve. Every part of him wanted to wilt at their hardened glares.
No, I did not come all the way here just to retreat now.
“Sir,” Hux kept his tone soft and respectful, “I apologize. I do not mean to offend nor am I doing this out of blind disobedience. I want this position more than the other candidates because I am better than the other candidates. I am a far better strategist than Kaplan and Piett, and my men have a greater respect for me than Veers and his subordinates. Datoo has the experience, but does not have the constitution for the stresses that come with being Major General. I on the other hand excelled in the Academy, I am the youngest Brigadier General the Empire has seen. You may overlook me, sir, but I assure you...” Hux’s fists clenched behind his back and he lifted his chin. “when push comes to shove, I can prove I will do anything to become Major General.”
Tarkin exchanged a furtive glance at Krennic, who sneered back at him.
The Grand Moff leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he appraised the general. “I wonder if you know what anything truly entails, young man.”
Krennic took a steady sip of wine before setting it down, leaning forward as well as if he was suddenly intrigued by what Hux planned to say next.
"I WILL do anything, sir," Hux said, evenly.
"So you say," Tarkin said, again looking to Krennic who gave him a slight nod. "Very well then. Take off your clothes, general.”
Hux froze.
He couldn’t have heard right.
“Sir?”
Tarkin rested his chin in his hands. “You say you will do anything. I say we put this to the test. Take off your clothes and let’s have a look at you.”
Hux’s heart slammed against his chest for a moment before resuming a calm beat more befitting a would-be major general.
Hux said he would do anything and he meant it. He wasn’t about to waver and pretend like he was a modest sort.
Did they expect him to refuse? To blush and run from the War Room? The very thought infuriated Hux.
They have underestimated my determination for the last time.
Hux did not blink as he unsnapped his jacket, peeling it off to reveal a grey tank shirt beneath, exposing his pale, freckled shoulders and solid, slender muscles. With a slow arch of his back, Hux slid his hands down over his body and pulled his tank shirt over his head, revealing the ripples of lean muscle on a long torso. He flexed his abdomen, pushing his hips forward as he began to unbuckle his belt.
"A bit eager to obey, isn't he," Krennic sneered.
Hux felt the heat of a blush rise in his ears and across his chest, but did not hesitate to unfasten his trousers and slide them off. Ignoring the mockery in Krennic’s smile, Hux focused on Tarkin’s even gaze, which gave neither encouragement nor disapproval at what stood before him.
Hux stripped down until all that remained were his standard issue black briefs.
He...hesitated a moment before removing them. He knew removing them would not only leave him completely naked before his superior officers, but would also reveal the growing erection beneath.
Tarkin was older than Hux by a substantial amount, though age did not factor into Hux’s attraction. Tarkin transcended age. To the young Brigadier General, the Grand Moff was immortal. A being of pure unadulterated power. Heads bowed to the Grand Moff when he entered the room. Crowds quieted with a single arch of his slender, hard eyebrow. His tactics were cold and calculated and yet his demeanor was that of elegance and regality. Even the all-powerful Darth Vader bent to his wishes, and the sith lord bowed to no man save the Emperor himself.
Hux had fantasized about the Grand Moff Tarkin as often as he fantasized being the Grand Moff himself.
And now here he was, standing in front of his idol. And once Hux removed his briefs it would be abundantly clear of his desire for the man.
Whatever it takes, Hux reminded himself. I will be Major General Hux.
Hux took a deep breath and pulled down his briefs, kicking them to the side.
He parted his bare feet and stood straight, shoulders back and hands at his sides. His head held high, for his remaining dignity and to avoid looking at his hardened cock, which twitched at the attention it was given.
The lack of expression on Tarkin’s face took the breath from Hux. Hux was of larger than average size, his shaft straight and true with a trimmed nest of golden red hair at its base. He was proud of his length, though he was also naive in thinking Tarkin would show any appreciation for him. This was, after all, still a test.
Tarkin and Krennic both rose from their seats.
“Come here, young man,” Tarkin said.
Hux walked boldly forward, having to brush by Krennic to stand in front of the table separating him and the Grand Moff. Krennic loomed over him despite not being much taller than Hux. This was the closest the Brigadier General had been to the director who lurked around the Death Star like a shadow. The sheer mystery of Krennic had always enticed Hux, but seeing him up close revealed nothing more of who the man was.
Those icy blue eyes raked over Hux’s naked form, making him feel more exposed than he already was. Hux met those eyes with his own frosty orbs, giving him a look that made most men wilt before him. Krennic merely displayed a feral, thin-lipped smile. Hux resisted dropping his gaze from the intimidation that rippled through him. Instead, he broke away from the blizzard in Krennic’s eyes and held the tempests within those of the Grand Moff.
“On your knees,” Tarkin said, gesturing to the table.
Hux did not break eye contact with Tarkin as he knelt down on the coffee table. Krennic circled behind him and Hux was very aware of his presence and just how close the director was. Hux resisted leaning back against the Director, fighting his curiosity to see if Krennic was aroused at what was kneeling before him.
Tarkin stood in front of the low table and folded his arms, one hand raised elegantly as he stroked his chin in a thoughtful manner. “And tell me, General, is this how you conduct your business? Can I rely on someone who so willingly gives up his dignity to appease?”
“No sir,” Hux said, head held high. “You want a man who can get the job done. The end goal is what matters, not the road taken. You need a Major General who will do whatever it takes.”
“And tell me, boy,” Krennic said behind him. Hux suppressed a shiver as he felt a pair of strong gloved fingers glide over his shoulders, “what makes you think others have not taken this exact same road as you?”
Jealousy prickled at Hux’s nerves. It was ridiculous to assume he was the first to have been in this position. Still...
“I assure you, sir,” he said, evenly, still looking to Tarkin. “None of them can handle this road with more skilled than I.”
Tarkin said nothing, nor did he give any indication that he was impressed or deterred by Hux’s bold words. Instead he took a step towards the table. Gently, Krennic pressed against Hux’s shoulders and the general’s heart lurched a moment as he realized he was being coaxed to get on all fours.
He complied, pressing the flats of his hands against the cool black surface of the table. A substantial bulge tented in the olive green trousers that stood inches from Hux’s face. Hux’s cock twitched and he licked his lips. Tarkin pressed a slender finger against Hux’s chin and tilted his head up.
“You can stop this at any time,” Tarkin said, his tone serious. “A word, a tap of the finger, and you are free to leave. Otherwise you are to remain silent and pay attention, no matter what happens. Is that clear?”
Hux’s response came in the form of pulling the Grand Moff’s finger into his mouth, suckling it softly. He was rewarded with a deep inhale and Tarkin pulling his hand away, only to run it through Hux’s red locks. Hux wasted no time in gently biting at the first button on his trousers. The buttons pulled away one-by-one, each one revealing a little more of the Moff’s glistening cock head unburdened by briefs.
With the last button, Tarkin’s cock was freed. Hux glided his tongue along the silky, veined shaft, taking in the fresh scent of linens from the uniform, mixed with Tarkin’s manly musk and the faintest hint of crisp-smelling cologne. Hux mouthed at the shaft, tonguing and teasing it, hoping to pull some sound from Tarkin’s lips, but at each gesture was met only with heavy breathing. Even as he took Tarkin’s cock into his mouth, Tarkin only took in a sharp breath.
Suddenly, he felt a pair of gloved hands grab his hips. Tarkin placed a hand on his head to soothe him. “A tap of a finger,” Tarkin reminded him.
Hux felt irritated at the reminder.
I want to be here. I want all of this. I-
When Hux felt the cool tingle of lube trickling down the base of his spine and over his entrance, Hux realized why Tarkin felt it necessary to remind him.
Hux gripped the edge of the table tightly and found himself spreading his legs, a shiver of anticipation running down his back before he could stop it.
“And see the sacrifice he makes for greatness,” he heard Krennic snicker, running his fingers over Hux’s tight ring of muscle, massaging the oil in.
Hux breathed hard through his nose, taking breaths and trying not to show too much of the desperation he felt knowing that in a moment he was about to be fucked by two of the most powerful men in the galaxy.
As Krennic pressed his slick cock against Hux, the general let out a slow exhale, relaxing and opening himself up to take in everything the director had to give.
Krennic took his time, his gloved hands massaging Hux’s hips as he guided Hux back and forth, guiding Hux’s mouth along Tarkin’s shaft. Drawing a sharp breath through his nose, Hux managed to stay silent and at attention, allowing Krennic to continue coaxing Hux’s body, his shaft pushing deeper and deeper.
The Director let out a series of throaty groans as he began to slowly pump in and out of Hux’s tight entrance. His sounds drowned out the quiet panting of the Grand Moff as Hux bobbed his head back and forth along his shaft, pressing his tongue hard against it, deep throating his cock head at every thrust. As much of a frenzy as Krennic’s moans drove Hux, who could already feel the warm precum drip from his agonized cock, Hux wanted to hear his Grand Moff moan, and more importantly he wanted to be the man to do it.
Just as Hux was about to pull the first move of many in his quest to make his idol moan his name, his cocky determination was dashed away as Tarkin grabbed his head to steadied him. Behind him, he felt the director tighten his grip on his hips holding him still as well. Hux’s eyebrows knitted.
“It’s 1800 hours, Director, we can begin.”
“Yes, sir,” Krennic said and shifted behind Hux as though leaning to grab something.
Hux braced himself as both Krennic’s hands and Tarkin’s palm pulled away from Hux and a cold circular object was placed on his back.
“Now stay still, boy,” Krennic said, “you play a most important role in our meeting.”
Hux was suddenly thankful neither of them could see his face, which blushed furiously as it dawned on him what was happening. With a faint click, the circular object balanced on his back began to hum, the vibrations traveling up and down Hux’s spine and straight into his limbs and shaft. He almost let out a whimper, but pressed against Tarkin’s cock just enough to muffle it. He squeezed his eyes shut to concentrate on staying still...and not coming from the rhythmic pulse of the object, which Hux knew was a mobile holoprojector.
This is a test I will pass. He thought stubbornly. Whatever it takes...whatever it takes...
The meeting should have been privy to the Grand Moff and Director and only them. Hux had not heard of any attacks being planned on Basteel in the Outer Rim, but from the way Tarkin and Krennic talked it seemed this was one of many discussions on how to take the planet.
Their talks were casual and lively, and they spoke to each other candidly. At times their words were breathless as they adjusted their positions within Hux. Yet aside from the slight waver in their words, neither of them sounded the least bit bothered about having a meeting while keeping Hux penetrated on both sides, who served as a mere piece of furniture for their amusement.
Hux focused hard on staying steady, feeling the weight of the cold disc on his perfectly postured back. He swallowed as best he could, but his mouth was stretched wide around Tarkin’s girth and saliva pooled on the table beneath him. Behind him Krennic occasionally rocked ever so slightly, just enough to brush his cockhead against the general’s prostate and sending new torturous pleasure through him.
Internally Hux was screaming.
He wanted to whimper and writhe beneath the two men. He wanted to push hard against Krennic, feel the man’s hard cock pump into him, stretching and fucking him until he could take no more. He wanted Tarkin to grab his hair and fuck his mouth, abuse his throat until he came. And he wanted to fall onto the table, leaking from both ends and shamelessly stroking himself. He wanted to squirm and moan like a Tattooinian whore, begging to be allowed to come. Oh how he would beg...
But these were mere fantasies. On the outside, Hux was a model of stillness, allowing for only the occasional tremor in his aching joints and the smallest bead of sweat trickling down his temple.
I can do this. They can’t keep this for much longer. I can hold, I just have to-
Hux’s eyes shot open as Krennic, who was arguing strongly to attack Basteel’s rebel base from the forests to the North, had dropped one of his hands down and was caressing Hux’s thigh. As Tarkin countered why a Western approach was more viable, Krennic’s hand reached down and grabbed hold of Hux’s already throbbing cock.
Hux shut his eyes, refusing to let out the pitiful, needy moan rising in his throat, allowing his breath to quicken as Krennic moved his palm up and down his shaft at an agonizingly slow pace.
Stars...please. Hux swallowed as much as he could of Tarkin’s cock. Please, stroke me. Please, let me come. But he stayed silent. After a few long tortured moments, Krennic stopped and patted Hux’s side as though congratulating his resolve. A blush burned Hux’s cheeks at the gratefulness swelling in him from such unexpected affection.
“Orson, we have to come to a decision sooner or later and if you will not budge, I see no way we can proceed on either of our plans.”
Orson? Hux perked up. Such a familiar address...Hux wondered how deep their relationship went.
“Wilhuff, I appreciate your conviction, and always have. But nothing good will come out of your stratagem. An attack from the West is ideal, yes, but that is precisely why they will be expecting us. We would eventually be forced to pass through this entryway here,” Krennic leaned forward, presumably to point to something on the map, and Hux managed to swallow back a whimper, “and as a result they will thin out our forces before we can so much as make a dent.”
Tarkin sighed and ran a hand through Hux’s hair. “We will have to continue this another time, my friend. I think we have tortured our young general enough, don’t you agree?”
Please...please...please... Hux couldn’t think. His body trembled. His cock wept and throbbed, every shift in the men’s movements threatened to give him release, a threat he refused to succumb to.
Mercifully the vibrating disc was switched off and lifted from his aching back. Krennic reached down and grabbed his hips, steadying him. “Are you ready, boy?” He asked, though he did not wait for an answer before thrusting his full length into Hux.
This time Hux was ready to scream and whimper and moan, whatever it took to allow him release. And yet any sound he wanted to make was cut off as Tarkin grabbed the general hair and thrust hard into his mouth. Hux completely lost himself completely, his body burning hot, sweat dripping from his face, his cock bobbing helplessly as he was fucked from both sides.
And then he heard it.
Hux’s eyes shot open.
A low, deep sound beneath the luscious moans of Krennic surfaced.
Tarkin pulled hard on Hux’s hair, his body taut and still.
Hux nearly came then when he heard the grand moff moan a single word.
“General...”
Hux bathed in that single word, the soft lilt of his voice, the vibrations of its intensity reaching down to the grand moff’s pulsing cock releasing into Hux’s awaiting mouth. Hux swallowed everything the Grand Moff gave him voraciously, tears nearly stinging his eyes at the honor of it all.
Tarkin pulled away slowly, Hux tried to lean in to savor the remainder of the man, but Krennic pulled him back again. Hux would have collapsed entirely had Krennic not held him up and he resigned to laying his head on the cool surface of the table, biting hard into his fist to keep from crying out.
He felt a hand cup his chin and lift him back up again. “Posture, young man.”
Shakily Hux lifted himself again, keeping his eyes trained on Tarkin who settled back into his chair to watch, a thin smile on his face, his narrow chest rising and falling heavily.
Hux could still taste the man on his lips, he could still hear the the grand moff’s moan.
General…
Hux felt himself rise to his peak.
I can’t stop…
Panic rose in him as Krennic grabbed his shoulders now.
I’m going to come. I’m going to-
Krennic gave a final thrust as he filled Hux with his warm seed. Hux panted hard, but kept his position, arms and legs quivering uncontrollably, head dizzy from the exertion and the continued self-denial of his release.
“Good boy,” Krennic cooed, pulling out and slapping Hux on the ass so hard his weak limbs gave out. He collapsed on the table, squirming slightly as his cock rubbed against the cool surface. Snickering, the Director went to the refresher while Tarkin tossed a clean rag to Hux.
“Now, clean up and go on your way, general,” Tarkin said, sitting back in the lounge chair.
Every muscle screamed in protest as he rose, kneeling on the hard surface of the table.
“I have done what you asked,” Hux said. His voice shook, his body trembled, but he clenched his fists and held his head high nonetheless.
“Yes,” Krennic said, leaning in the doorway sneering. “And you proved to be a quite capable piece of furniture.”
Hux bristled, but held his tongue, looking only at Tarkin for his answer.
“That’s enough, Director,” Tarkin said, his face completely stone save for the slightest bit of sweat sheening on his temples.
“We shall review your file with the others and come to a decision next week.”
Fury welled within Hux, but in the end he slid off the table and quietly clothed himself. Both men silently observed his humiliation, and Krennic openly chuckled as Hux had to tenderly handle his red, swollen cock and slip it under his trousers.
He drew himself up, though he knew his face was red and defeated. With a click of his heels, he bowed and turned to the door.
Just before he punched the door panel however he paused. Tarkin’s words popped into his head.
“You are to remain silent and pay attention…”
Pay attention...
Hux spun around.
“You are both wrong,” Hux said, flatly.
Tarkin’s eyes narrowed. “I beg your pardon?”
“Your attack on Basteel. You both have it wrong.” He glared at Krennic when he said this last bit. “You cannot attack the base from the West with that narrow passageway being your only path for attack. You cannot attack from the North because the expanse of forest makes landing impossible and there are smaller bases hidden within the forest that will thin the troops before they hit the main base. Yet, neither of you considered the Underbast.” Hux took a breath, letting his words sink in. “Along the edge of the forest there is a series of tunnels left by native Basteelian tribes thousands of years ago. These tunnels lead directly to the base of the canyon along the southern ridge. The rebels do not know it’s there, otherwise they would have used them as their base and not sit in the middle of a fucking canyon.”
Hux’s body trembled from exhaustian, but he fought to keep his words steady. He needed to get this out while he still had their attention.
“Have your men land along the edge of the forest, near Underlo. The ample flight traffic there will hide your descent provided you use low-profile ships. Piett should advise on the ground assault, he grew up on Basteel and knows the tunnels. He will be in charge of positioning the troops in the many exitways surrounding the canyon. Put Kaplan in charge of aerial defense and Datoo on comm scans. If all goes according to plan this mission will be accomplished with few losses.”
And with that, Hux clicked his boots together and bowed, feeling the ache in his ass and legs as he did so. “Good luck, sirs, and thank you for your consideration.”
“General,” Tarkin rose to his feet, “a moment.”
Hux exhaled sharply. Either he was about to be reprimanded for his blatant impudence or...
Tarkin marched up to Hux and grabbed him by the shoulder, pulling him away from the door and back into the room. He stood behind the general and wrapped a long surprisingly firm arm around his waist. Hux’s eyes fell on Krennic who was no longer sneering in the doorway, but was pulling up the star map of Basteel, zooming in to examine the edge of the forest where Hux had indicated.
“Well done, general,” Tarkin whispered in his ear, deftly unbuckling Hux’s pants. “Wouldn't you agree, Director.”
Krennic sighed. “Yes, sir. And he is correct. This appears to be…the best option.”
“And this mission needs a Major General to oversee the preparations does it not?” Tarkin asked, as Tarkin reached into his pants. Hux bit his lip hard as Tarkin pulled out his cock and gripped it hard.
“It does,” Krennic admitted.
“You were my first choice, General Hux. But our decision needed to be unanimous. And Krennic was not impressed.”
“He is brash and power hungry.” Krennic shot back.
“Did you hear that, young man?” Tarkin began to stroke Hux’s shaft, his fingers expertly working Hux’s burning skin. “Brash. Power hungry.”
Hux’s body shuddered, and felt himself slowly lose his composure.
“Every...great leader is, sir.” Hux gasped.
Tarkin whispered in Hux’s ear. “Moan for me, Major General . I think you've earned your release...and your promotion.”
Hux laid his head back on Tarkin’s shoulder and let out a series of gasping moans, matching Tarkin’s rhythm.
“Sir….sir,” he groaned, bucking his hips into Tarkin’s hand. No longer caring, no longer wanting to hold back. Every part of him vibrating with ecstasy.
“Say my name.”
Hux’s eyes went wide, rocketing to his peak at the mere thought of his name.
“W...Wilhuff...Wilhuff...”
Hux came hard, shamelessly moaning the Grand Moff’s name over and over, writhing in Tarkin’s arms until there was nothing left in him. Shakily, he took Tarkin’s hand, kissing it and licking it clean.
“A clever boy, wouldn’t you agree, Director?”
Krennic folded his arms and huffed. “Indeed.”
“And a perfect choice for major general.”
Krennic nodded with a begrudging smirk. “He...is not the worst choice.”
Tarkin gently turned Hux around and clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Welcome to the fold, Major General.” he said.
Hux swallowed back a giddy smile. “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”
“That will be all, Major General.”
Hux turned to the door. He raised his hand to the door panel…
Then stopped.
His face burned…
Then he turned back to the Grand Moff. “Sir…With your permission. I would like to attend the next meeting for future planning of this mission and…” he lowered his gaze. “I will serve in any capacity you see fit.”
A thin smile appeared on Tarkin’s lips.
“Director?” Tarkin asked, still smiling at Hux.
“Yes, of course.” Krennic said with a hint of irritation, “but next time do try to keep your clothes on. This is a professional meeting you are attending after all, Major General.”
Hux bit his lip hard to keep from smiling and he clicked his heels in salute.
“Yes, sir. Of course, sir.”