Chapter 6: Hux's Gambit
The ledger glowed, a constellation of names and numbers hovering above the polished obsidian. Armitage Hux’s finger traced through the air, dismissing a low-yield donor from a minor family. Boring. Predictable. The business of blood was just that—business—and sentiment was a contaminant.
His assistant, a severe-looking vampire named Mitaka, stood rigid by the door. “The analysis of the Ren account is complete, sir.”
“Summarize.” Hux didn’t look up. He was studying a satellite thermal map of the city, the nighttime heat signatures blooming like red and yellow flowers. One particular signature, originating from a certain penthouse and recently from a derelict rooftop, was getting interestingly, stupidly consistent.
“A statistically anomalous allocation of resources,” Mitaka said, reading from a tablet. “Security detail reassignments, a cleaning of digital footprints for a human subject, the acquisition of the old Grandi Hotel roofspace. All correlate with the initiation of a contract with donor 247-Rey. Human female, twenty-four, post-graduate, significant debt. No lineage, no connections. A nobody.”
Hux finally leaned back in his chair. The leather didn’t creak. It was too expensive for that. “A nobody,” he echoed, a flat smile touching his lips. “That’s the point, isn’t it? Ren has always had a taste for the tragic. The broken things. He thinks he’s saving them. He’s just proving he can still get his hands dirty.”
He steepled his fingers. The neon from the skyline beyond the floor-to-ceiling window painted his pale skin in streaks of blue and green. “And his feeding patterns?”
“Increased frequency. Longer session durations. The biometric data we intercepted from the agency’s servers shows… elevated retention levels. He’s taking less per session but returning more often. It’s inefficient.”
“It’s emotional.” Hux spat the word out like it was a bad taste. “He’s not feeding. He’s visiting. How pathetic.”
Mitaka shifted his weight, a minute gesture of discomfort. “Our contact within the agency reports Ren has made inquiries about terminating the donor’s contract for exclusive rights. He’s offering a significant buyout.”
Hux’s cold green eyes flickered with genuine amusement. “Is he now? The beast wants to keep his pet. This is better than I’d hoped.” He stood, walking to the window. The city was a circuit board, and he knew every connection, every point of control. “Ren’s entire standing is built on a reputation of impenetrable, ruthless focus. He’s a natural disaster. Predictable in his destruction, and therefore manageable. But this?” He gestured vaguely toward the thermal map. “This is a hairline fracture. A single point of leverage.”
“Shall we acquire the donor’s contract ourselves? Outbid him?”
“Too direct. Ren would just declare a feud, and it would be messy. He’s emotionally compromised, not weak.” Hux turned, his mind working with cold, logical precision. “The girl is the key. She’s the variable. Human needs are so simple. Security. Comfort. Freedom. Ren is offering her a gilded cage. She just doesn’t see the bars yet.”
He moved back to his desk, calling up Rey’s dossier. The photo was from her student ID. Her hazel eyes stared out, tired but defiant. He zoomed in on the details. The worn cuff of her jacket. The faint lines of stress around her mouth that even a grainy image couldn’t hide.
“She has a final dissertation review next Tuesday. Professor O. L. Statura. Room 414B in the Humanities building. She’ll be stressed. Vulnerable. Looking for a lifeline.” Hux’s smile was a thin, sharp line. “Have Cardo meet her there. A chance encounter. He’s good with the… concerned citizen angle.”
“Cardo is… blunt, sir.”
“I don’t need subtlety. I need plausible deniability. Have him express concern. Tell her a story about a friend who got tangled up with a possessive client. A warning. Then he makes the offer. Our agency. Better terms. Full autonomy. A safer, more professional environment. Protection from ‘unstable elements.’” He savored the phrase. “Frame it as an escape route. She’s a clever rabbit. Show her a new hole and she’ll sniff at it.”
Mitaka nodded, tapping notes into his tablet. “And if she refuses?”
Hux’s gaze returned to the glowing ledger. He found Kylo Ren’s house sigil, a stylized crest that pulsed with a dull, dark light. “Then we demonstrate the cost of her current association. A late-night accident. A frightening encounter with a… less disciplined member of our kind. Nothing fatal. Just a taste of the chaos that follows in Ren’s wake. She’ll come to see our offer as the only rational choice.”
He closed the hologram with a swift chop of his hand. The office was left in the dim, ambient glow of the city.
“Remember, Mitaka. We are not monsters. We are strategists. Ren’s attachment is a structural flaw. We apply pressure to the flaw until the entire structure shears. He wants to keep her because she makes him feel something? Good. Let him feel what it’s like to have it removed.”
He picked up a letter opener from his desk, its point needle-fine. He held it up, watching the neon light run along the edge.
“We’re doing him a favor, really. Freeing him from a distraction. And once his focus is restored…” He pressed the tip lightly into the pad of his thumb. A single, dark bead of blood welled up, refusing to fall. “…we’ll be waiting.”