Please note I'm not overly familiar with Star Wars and so please forgive me if I'm completely wrong about some parts I used Wiki as a reference and some things were not clear so I made them up.

The battle I'm referring to is the Battle of Yavin which I think would have occurred around General Hux's birth, although I don't think his father would have been involved in the battle..

General Hux had been too young to remember the actual events but he has heard bits and pieces over the years, enough to piece together the story from his father's occasional drunken ramblings.

His father, Brendol Hux, delayed by training and news of faraway battle arrives too late. The medical station outpost is quiet as his ship approaches, and ignores all attempts to communicate before docking. It is a bad omen, one that makes his the hair on his neck stand on end as he thinks about the assets that should be waiting for him on board. Pushing personal feelings aside he determines that the medical supplies of the small space station and the injuries of his surviving cadets outweigh the potential risk of a trap. They will need every young soldier he has in the days to come following the destruction of Death Star. As the ship docks he prepares his tired cadets for ambush, reminding them to remain alert and prepaid.

They board the station in their blood coated armour to find it abandoned. The lights are weak and flickering while the heating is almost non-existent. What should be a warm bright busy station full of medics and patents is empty, left with its barest functions running.

It is another failure, another infuriating blow to an already tiring day.
Why? His head fills with questions he cannot answer and it displeases him. Brendol cannot stand mysteries, he demands answers, knowledge so he can plot and plan and strategise. Straightening his back, he barks at his cadets ordering them to search the station quickly; for medics, medication, droids, patients, whatever they can find of value or even better someone to interrogate.

Once alone he turns his mind towards his wife and new-born child. This medical station had seemed ideal at the time, close enough to the Academy and with supposedly the best medics to be found for lightyears. It was small too, too small to be of notice to the opposition he had thought. Worry clouded his mind as he stalked the hallways, searching. There were no signs of fighting. It was perplexing. Had the medics somehow heard of their defeat and fled like cowards? His fists clenched in anger at the thought. They would rise from the ashes of the Death Star and exterminate the Rebel Alliance.

He turns the corner and catches sight of a small medical droid, peeking down the corridor nervously before retreating into private quarters. Brendol strides after it breaking down the door with ease.

There on the medical bed he finds his beautiful wife, lying cold and still and covered in blood. An honourable death beeps the medical droid beside him. Brendol shoots it with his gun. He blames the droid, the incompetent absent medical personnel, and himself. They are the ones who had failed her. The thought occurs that maybe their failure is the reason for their absence. Perhaps they had not the guts to face him following her death. He looks again at his beloved wife and vows to personally enact brutal revenge.

A loud wail startles him.

Impossible, he thinks turning to the small cot in the corner of the freezing room. Survival in these conditions seems unlikely. Moving closer he peers beneath the thin metallic blanket and spies a tuft of red hair and a small fist. Brendol finds himself smiling for the first time that day, as he picks up the small bundle and stares into cold blue eyes. He is tough he thinks proudly as his son yells unhappily in his arms. He brushed a thumb across the small cheek removing the blood that lingered there. As terrible as the day had been he has a son and that is something. He holds the child close and peers at the paper anklet wrapped around his small foot.

His mouth twists in confusion at the words scribbled messily in blue. Baby Hux. An odd choice he thinks, mistaking the rushed identification bracelet for a name. He casts one final glance at his beloved wife as he turns towards the door holding their child close.

"As you wish my dear." He tells her, aware she cannot hear him. He doesn't understand it himself but then he has always trusted her judgement.