Summary: "It's the Organa boy, Hux…"

A mission gone wrong in his youth results in a fifteen-year old mystery, that still bothers Hux even now. By the time he is appointed General, he has long given up on solving it, that is until Supreme Leader Snoke takes an extreme interest in the sole heir to Vader's legacy. Perhaps now, he can finally find out what happened to Ben Organa.

Then again, some things are better left buried.

"…he's missing."

.

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Chapter 1: The Boy

Petty Officer Armitage Hux was ready to die of boredom.

Diplomatic missions were entirely uneventful. Being sent on one usually meant being caught up in boring talks, and being stuck at loud parties, where the only company were humans so old that their skin had started to sag, or aliens that couldn't speak a lick of Galactic Basic.

This mission had been filled with all the above. Negotiations had taken up the better part of two weeks, where he had tried to convince the host government to align themselves to the First Order. Too bad the Resistance had showed up disguised in the New Republic's parties. Not to mention the host of other politically-diverse factions. What had resulted was a total mess of talks as all sides had tried to argue their points.

Young officers like Hux rarely got a say in which missions they could partake in. Thankfully, he was currently at the farewell gala. Which meant negotiations were just about finished, and he could leave this filthy backwater planet for good. He missed the decks and cool minimalist steel of The Ravage. Being on any planet for too long, after a lifetime spent between star destroyers, made him feel uneasy.

Even the breathtaking sight of the main ballroom doesn't quite quell his case of land legs. The room is magnificent, with a ceiling that stretches up a few stories high, with beautiful stone decorations lining all its surfaces, including the pillars stretching up from the floor to kiss it. Rich tapestries and paintings line every inch of the walls that aren't already set with transparisteel that looks out onto a lush balcony set over the cliffs below.

The crowd is bustling around and moving drably to the sour music of the alien hosts. All the guests appear old and decrepit, or entirely stuck up. Not to mention there are far too many aliens: Togruta, Gran, Trandoshans, and even a goddamned Wookie. All in all, it's certainly not the kind of party Hux would willingly attend.

Instead, Hux was standing listlessly in a corner, beside his fellow First Order officers, all of them standing far too upright and alertly to suit a party atmosphere. They weren't used to relaxing, even during peaceful negotiations. Their upbringing was far too harshly rooted in them. To no one's surprise, Captain Willuch was the only one actively mingling with the guests. It was his duty as commanding officer.

Suddenly, in an instance, all Hux's prejudices seemed to fade away as he caught sight of the boy.

The boy looked gangly, like a reed that bends too easily to the wind, and his limbs were well on the way to outgrowing the rest of his body. Yet he walked gracefully, with purpose - no doubt due to years of practice. His face was strange, with a large distracting mouth and a strong nose. His black locks flow loosely around his neck, and frame his face prettily. He looks very familiar, but Hux is far too distracted to be able to place him.

It's easy to tell he's either wealthy, or from a strong political faction. Both, most likely. His robes seemed to breach against the floor with every step like waves breaking against a sandbar, and the fabric even glittered like furious sea-foam. Despite his awkwardness, the boy looked almost ethereal, like a deep-sea creature native to the planet's devastatingly deep oceans, plucked straight from its inky depths. He's beautiful.

It takes a full minute for Hux to realise he is staring, and that his mouth is hanging open to boot. Entirely unprofessional. It was silly to stare so openly, especially whilst he was in full uniform and representing The First Order.

He shifted uncomfortably, suddenly aware of his own constricting suit and overly-lavish boots. His own uniform was distinctly expensive and entirely uncomfortable. He had checked his appearance almost lazily before the party – not particularly interested in impressing anyone.

What a mistake that had turned out to be. He prayed that he looked somehow presentable, quickly combing his hair back.

Thank god - his uniform was tidy. When it came to diplomacy, the First Order invested heavily in appearance, which was a stark change from their usual frugality. Appearances bought you friends. Not fantastic friends, but friends all the same. Alliances won you wars, after all, and the First Order was determined to win the biggest war of all.

Perhaps this was his loophole. The First Order wanted to make 'friends', or rather, rally potential subordinates to his cause. Therefore, it would be entirely sensible for him to talk to the ethereal boy.

With a sudden fire in his gut, and a determined stride in his step that would have made even his father proud, he marched over to the boy. He felt as if he was entranced, unable to stop himself.

Meanwhile, the boy was making a beeline for the door. Time was of the essence.

Luckily, Hux managed to get to him first, stepping smoothly in front of him and halting his determined strides.

The boy stopped. A flash of surprise quickly replaced with distinct annoyance and an unfairly striking curled lip. He did not look pleased at all.

Hux smiled coyly, eyes tracing over the pretty red slash of the boy's mouth, "It's a bit early for departure, don't you think? The party hasn't even started yet."

The boy scoffed, "The party hasn't started, and it's not likely to. All these people look dead on their feet."

"Perhaps they need some encouragement from some of the more… spritely of us."

"Oh? And you're going to be the one to teach them?"

Hux holds out his arm, "I had rather hoped you'd grant me the pleasure of accompanying me."

Up close, Hux can tell that the boy is at least a few years younger than himself. His eyes are thoroughly distracting: twin stars set in his face, that reflect all the beautiful blinking lights of the ballroom, like liquid glass. Hux must have him.

In turn, the boy considers him, raking his eyes over his uniform with a sneer. It was clear that the boy was not fond of The First Order in the slightest. It was a pity, but not unexpected. Opinions could be swayed though, with just the right amount of charm.

"The First Order?"

Hux nodded, still holding his arm out proudly in invitation. He would represent The First Order to the last. Even at the risk of rejection.

In a curious move, the boy seemed to look back into the crowd, as if searching for a particular face. After his sweep of the room, he turned to Hux with a smirk, his black hair tossing loosely with his movements.

"Fine, I'll dance with you." He said suddenly, before placing his hand on Hux's arm.

"Perfect." Hux said, as he escorted the boy to the centre of the room.

In the early hours of the morning, the lights of the officers' quarters were thrown on, and the intercoms blazed loudly. All the officers, Hux included, groaned loudly as they shook off their sleepiness and stood to attention at the foot of their bunks. They all looked at each other warily, wondering why they'd been woken up earlier than usual.

Suddenly, Captain Willuch strode through the doors, heavy boots threatening to dent the floor with each heavy step. Finally, he came to a stop in front of Hux, a look of fury upon his weary face. The other officers exchanged surprised glances. Hux wasn't the type to get into trouble, or at least, get caught.

"Sir," Hux said, saluting the man dutifully.

With frightening speed, Willuch grabbed him by his sleepshirt and dragged him up to face level. The world span, as Hux's feet dangled uselessly from above the ground. He yelped at the rough treatment.

"What did you do with that boy, Armitage?!" Captain Willuch barked, shaking him like a ragdoll.

Between all the yelling and the hushed whispers of his peers, it took a moment for Hux to understand what the man was saying.

"W-what?!"

"The boy, Armitage! Ben Organa!" Willuch yelled, practically frothing at the mouth; "What did you do?!"

Ben Organa. The beautiful floating boy from the party with eyes like constellations.

"I didn't do anything! We danced for a bit and then I went straight back to my quarters!" Hux yelped, flailing uselessly beneath Willuch's wrought-iron hold; "I haven't done anything!"

Willuch stopped his assault, and instead looked at Hux carefully; "…are you lying to me, boy?"

"No!" Hux said, desperation seeping into his voice; "I swear I didn't touch him!"

"Fine… if I found out you're lying, I'll skin you alive!" Willuch barked, pushing Hux away; "Goddamnit… just goddamnit…"

Shaken, Hux got to his feet trying to steady his breathing. He couldn't shake the sudden dread shooting through him. Why was Willuch worried about Ben Organa? The boy was associated with the Resistance, and General Organa herself. If anything, the First Order should be glad the boy was gone.

"W-what's happened, sir?"

It was then that Hux noticed how ashen Willuch's face was, and how tired he looked. Something was undoubtedly very, very wrong. A shot of dread ran through him. What on earth was going on?

"The Organa boy is missing."

AN: Let me know what you think! Please R&R!