REY

Rey slammed the cryogenic chamber lid down with a thud, startling D-0. Her thoughts swirled too fast for her to decide what to do.

Secure the chamber. Check the settings. Don't let the boy die.

He was the spitting image of Luke, but as a child. Rey wasn't sure why, but it just felt as though the boy had the same Force energy that she always sensed from Luke.

She looked around frantically. Whose ship was this? Not Ochi's, but someone like him maybe. Someone who worked for Palpatine. Were they still looking for her? Why did they have this boy? How long had he been in this chamber already? Were his vital signs still okay? She didn't know how to check, the gauges and other writing were all in alien writing. Was the boy still alive?

The monitors beeped and flashed. The crash had caused the chamber to open and the liquid nitrogen to seep out.

"D-0 can help." D-0 rolled back and forth, trying to get Rey's attention.

It took her a second to realize what D-0 was saying. He wanted to help. Rey had seen Poe connect cables to the back of D-0's head before, and now D-0 was rolling over a cable with a connection on the end that looked like it would fit into his outlets.

"You know a lot of things, don't you?" Rey said as she grabbed the cable off the cold ground. She plugged it into a connection on the back of D-0's head and a long beep sounded, as though to indicate that the connection had been made. The settlings recalibrated and the numbers slowed down until the indicator lights stopped flashing and turned green.

"Fixed," D-0 said.

"Amazing," Rey patted his little head the removed the wire from D-0's head. She sighed with relief but also concern. She didn't know how to properly bring the boy out of his frozen sleep. It could be dangerous, especially without medical staff on hand.

She stood up and walked around the chamber to assess the damages to the pod. Other than being jostled open, and the safety latches coming loose, the pod seemed fine. It looked very new; shiny metal and the model was definitely newer than the age of the ship that was transporting it.

But who was the boy?

Rey's fingers pinched with the cold of the metal casing. 

"Ouch." She removed her hand from the metal and sucked on her frostbitten fingertips.

"Fixed," D-0 repeated.

"Yes, fixed..." But for how long?

The liquid nitrogen had stopped seeping out to the ground, which now sparkled in the dim light of the pod, frozen particles of dirt and dust.

"We need to take this pod to the Resistance Base," Rey said to D-0.

D-0 nodded then rolled away, did a loop and returned. "This ship is broken."

D-0 was right. This ship wouldn't fly again and she couldn't carry this pod to her own ship. If she enlisted the help of Jakku's current Junk Boss, he would only see dollar signs and want to sell it. He wouldn't care about the safety of the boy inside.

A sound caught her attention and she reached for her lightsaber. But the sound was just her discarded helmet which lay on the ground near the entrance to the small room. It was crackling with static and a distant voice. Rey picked it up and set it onto her head so she could hear through the speakers.

"Rey? Are you there?" It was Finn.

"Finn?" Rey adjusted the microphone. Her lungs were beginning to burn from the nitrogen in the air. She stepped out of the room where the air was warmer.

"Is everything okay?" Finn breathed heavily, as though he'd been running and had just gotten to the transmitter. 

How did he know? How did he always seem to know when something was wrong?

"Uh..." Rey scrambled for an answer and she couldn't seem to put the words together properly. "The pod, there's a bio-" what were they called again? "Transport. Cryogenic. The boy. I think he's Force sensitive and-"

"Wait, slow down. Who's Force sensitive?" It was Poe's voice now.

"Poe." Rey felt immensely relieved to hear Poe's voice. "I need your help."

HUX

Hux shifted his weight as he walked. With all the advancements in medicine and cybernetics, one would think they could get him walking without a limp. But that blasted ex-stormtrooper shot him in the leg and it would likely always bother him, especially on days like this when he had a lot of walking to do.

Hux grumbled inwardly as he limped along the velvet carpet of Canto Bight's most famous casino. He pushed past two Utapaun's arguing about money and kept his gaze down. Lights twinkled and lit up the game areas; round wheels spun, cards and dice were thrown onto the felt tables, the smells of perfume, fine wines and scented cigars drifted through the air. 

Wasted money and resources, all for nothing more than entertainment. Hux never could understand the allure of entertainment. It seemed to simply be the delaying of one's progress in life, but on purpose. And yet, this place was also a front for arms dealers and smugglers, so on occasion it proved to be necessary to visit.

A large Crolute alien blew smoke into Hux's face. He coughed but kept going. His jaw clenched with the pain of his leg and chest, as well as from the frustration of being in a place like this. The moisture in the air on Cantonica from the nearby ocean seeped into his joints. The large bruise on his chest hurt too, from the pressure of the phaser blast that had hit his phaser-proof vest. But it was nothing compared to what could have happened if General Pryde had actually shot him in the chest. The man's name suited him well. General "Pride." He was so full of pride he hadn't even bothered to check if Hux was actually dead.

Fortunately Hux had stormtroopers on his side. An army of them, the ones who wanted out of the First Order, who didn't want to be forced to kill on command. They wanted a say, a voice, and Hux was offering them that, if he became leader. The troopers who had been on duty when General Pryde shot him, helped Hux escape without notice.

He pulled his hood down farther around his face now as he walked. He would be getting his new helmet today. Then he would take over Kylo Ren's reign. Except he wouldn't let anyone tell him what to do, especially not Palpatine. The repulsive Sith Lord was already rumoured to be back from the dead and gathering his forces once again. Kylo Ren was weak. He followed Snoke, then Palpatine. Hux wouldn't take orders from anyone, not a Sith Lord, not General Pryde and not the Resistance-

Hux stopped. His chest bruise made his breathing heavy. Or perhaps it was something else that had affected his breathing suddenly. Even as he tried to not think about it, the image of the Resistance pilot's smile flooded his thoughts. The others with him had called him 'Poe.' Poe the pilot, with rolled up sleeves, unkempt hair and unshaved face. A scarf thrown haphazardly around his neck. It was so unprofessional for an officer, or rather, General now. Hux had done his research. When Kylo Ren's mother had died, she'd left Pilot Poe as acting General. A man that looked more like a space explorer or animal tamer, than a General. First Order officers were always clean shaven, had every hair perfectly in place and wore freshly pressed uniforms. But the Resistance Pilot seemed to have a complete disregard for such formalities.

I knew it! The Pilot's enthusiastic response played over and over in Hux's mind ever since that moment when Hux had let them escape.

Knew what?

The way the pilot had said it sounded almost... hopeful? Glad? Even excited maybe? Hux couldn't let it go. Had the pilot secretly been hoping it was Hux who was the traitor? If so, why?

But Hux wasn't on their side. He wasn't on anyone's side but his own.

A smile played on his lips now and he quickly replaced it with a frown. Stupid Resistance Pilot and his infuriating enthusiasm, wavy hair and endless energy. Did he do obstacle courses before breakfast every morning?

I knew it was you.

Hux ducked his head down further to hide his smile, which refused to leave him alone. How long had Poe been deliberating about Hux being the First Order spy? Hoping he was the one who had turned and 'joined their side?'

Ridiculous. Hux sighed and gave up trying to hate the pilot. Poe. Poe Dameron. A spice runner on Kijimi, before his days with the Resistance. Just enough insubordination to the powers that be to be a rebel. A rebel with a cause.

Hux turned the corner and stepped into the VIP lounge where a tall Kaminoan female waited for him. She nodded to him and smiled.

"Right this way," she said. 

Word had spread on the underground circuit about Hux starting a new rebellion, one that didn't want to wage war against the stormtroopers in the First Order but rather save them. And other species were joining his side, without even so much as a motivational speech. 

They all wanted to believe in something, in a new leader who would be for the people, and not simply for the gain of power. But having the support of all the people, was power. Hux let them believe whatever they needed to. If they wanted to hope for a righteous uprising, then let them.

It was simply a shifting of power, away from the Final Order, as the last of them were still calling it, and over to him. Hux's Order wouldn't have such silly names. Naming your faction implied there were other factions that weren't part of yours. Hux would give his uprising no name. They would be 'one,' one against the Final Oder, one gathering of all, which would finally end the tiring reign of Sith Lords over the galaxy once and for all. 

Sith Lords had no real power, just intimidation. Sure they could kill a man, or a group of them, but could they destroy an army of battle cruisers? Was Kylo Ren not destroyed like any other man? He relied on others to fly the ships and do the mass killing for him. He, like Palpatine and all other Sith Lords, needed others in order to be powerful, just like a regular man in power would need the same. A man like Hux. He could rule armies of fighters just as well as any Sith Lord. He wouldn't even have to use childish intimidation tactics like Kylo Ren had, Force choking any officer who didn't agree with him. He wouldn't need to.

That glint in Poe Dameron's eyes, when he'd said "I knew it was you." That was what made a true leader. Others believing in him and following him not out of fear, but hope, a hope that he would lead them to freedom.

The Kaminoan's long, red skirts grazed the velvet carpeting in the VIP lounge as she walked and Hux followed. Glasses clinked and laughter filled the room. He kept his smile hidden. Usually this type of atmosphere bothered him, but today it didn't. Kylo Ren was dead. That feeling, of always holding your breath around a person, waiting for the next choke hold, or your death at the next burst of anger. It was all gone now, lifted, and Hux was free. Sore, but free. And he was ready to shed his stiff uniform and clothe himself as one who is not under the rules followed by regular officers. 

In a few hours he would have a helmet of his own and no one would know it was him. He would take on a new identity and he would rise up as the saviour who came out of nowhere to save stormtroopers and change the archaic fight between good and evil, Sith and Jedi. These were things of the past. The new rule would be the true final order, one for the people, and one man to rule them all. A regular man just like them, no Force powers or Sith tricks, just a leader for the people and of the people.