First Order family-planning policies encourage fertility. The Order needs children.
The little cafe had a shady patio with a fountain. It looked so refreshing and pleasant that they decided to have lunch there despite the lackluster menu. As they were shown to their table, Kylo noticed a red-haired boy, around eight years old, sitting at a table on the other side of the fountain.
Red hair was rare enough (and by him, cherished enough) that it always caught his attention. As he looked more closely, he was startled to discover that that boy looked quite like Hux. Some sixth sense alerted the boy to this scrutiny and he turned to see who was looking at him. His eyes landed on Kylo for a moment before sliding past him to Hux, who was already seated and immersed in something on his datapad. The boy sat up straighter as his expression shifted from casual curiosity to recognition. The excited exclamation “Mama, look, it’s him!” was audible over the plash of the fountain.
Great, more devotees for the Cult of Hux, Kylo thought disgustedly (also fondly); perhaps Hux was paying less attention to his datapad than he let on, because he looked up, as if ready to bask in any adulation that might be on offer. But Hux’s reaction when his gaze lit upon the little family was not the dignified and condescending preen Kylo had expected - instead, he was treated to the sight of a fascinating mix of pleased surprise and embarrassment on that pale face. A shallow dip into Hux’s uppermost thoughts: …he must be one of mine!…Ren can’t…
Kylo gripped the edge of the table tightly with the sudden understanding of what that boy was. He could not keep the incredulity, or the hurt, out of his voice. “Hux. Is that boy…your child?”
Hux’s eyes snapped to Kylo’s. “Ren,” he said, low and teasing, “do you seriously think my cock has ever been up in anything other than an ass? But you’re not entirely wrong. I suspect he is my child, technically.”
He paused, eyes casting upward to access a memory. “The posters used to be everywhere - The First Order Needs Children, and even some older ones left over from the days of the Empire with the same basic message. There was a great deal of pressure upon all of us, especially my generation…the expectation was that everyone would do their duty. Everyone.”
Kylo leaned forward. “But, Hux. You wouldn’t…couldn’t have…”
“Of course not! Rank did have its privileges.” Hux said, with satisfaction. “In lieu of marrying and starting my own family, I was permitted to give, er, a genetic sample, for the benefit of infertile couples.”
“You were a sperm donor, you mean,” Kylo scoffed.
“Yes, and are you suggesting there is something shameful in it?”
“No, it’s just. Well, it’s strange to think that you have a child…children…how many children do you have?”
“Ren. I don’t have any children. I haven’t inquired into this for some time, but to my knowledge there are perhaps twenty children who have my genetic material. That boy must be among the oldest.”
Just then, the server came to take their order and the conversation turned to other topics.
His awareness floats among the crowd of beings all passing, as he is, through the large spaceport. A familiar thought-signature catches and pulls at him. So familiar.
His eyes find the person whose mental architecture this is…blue-green eyes meet his for a second, their exact shade giving him a jolt. But the woman, in her thirties, has disappointingly brown hair. They each continue on their way, although he yearns to follow her just to be near her mind for a while. It has been so long, so long without that solace.
Ben has encountered a handful, maybe a dozen, of these children of Hux’s since the end of the war. Only two with red-gold hair. Four with green eyes. Most with his height and build. One that he saw on Kuat a few years ago looked even more like Hux than the boy in cafe had, and was an engineer as well. Some have had Hux’s nose, or cheeks, or voice.
These few echoes and scattered reflections, spread across the galaxy and only experienced in fleeting moments at random - these are all that is left, because the First Order needed children.
When the Dupont House was built during the French Revolution, it sat on an empty field of 100 acres and had 10 spacious bedrooms. It was designed by the architect Christian Bourque who sold it to the Dupont family in 1800. The Dupont’s, a large and extremely wealthy family resided there until 1870, when they fled the island in fear of the brewing war on the mainland.
The house sat empty for years, gathering dust and becoming weathered, unable to be sold because it was still owned by the Dupont’s. In 1947, it was sold to the bank who broke up the land into several different lots. The gardens were demolished and turned into a park, the on site cemetery was moved, and the intricate fountains and patios were removed to make way for a hospital. The house was renovated and split off into apartments in 1950. Today the house sits on a lot barely bigger than the structure and its great location and cheap rent make it an unrefusable bargain to even the most stingy of buyers.
However old houses do come with a set of unique traits. Perhaps that’s why the rent is so cheap? For more information, contact the Historial Landmark department at city hall today.
A second wedding reception for family and friends who could not attend Elvis and Priscilla’s Las Vegas wedding was held at Graceland on May 29, 1967. The elaborate party for 125 guests was set to begin at 8 P.M. Everything was set up on the enclosed patio overlooking a fountain next to the main house. Attendants wore white coats and gloves as they parked the guests’ cars and served food and drinks. As guests entered the house, they placed their gifts on a beautifully decorated table and then made their way through a bridal archway of white carnations. They were greeted by a beautiful five-tier wedding cake displayed on a table covered in white silk, and feasted from a large buffet set on eight tables. Elvis and Priscilla went all out to make up for the wedding in Las Vegas. They both planned the menu, which consisted of assorted hors d’oeuvres, sliced ham and turkey, assorted cheeses, meatballs, stuffed lobster, shrimp, and sausage. Hot dogs, potato salad, and coleslaw were also served for Elvis’ benefit, as he was not interested in gourmet food. The guests washed down the delicious food with sparkling champagne that flowed from a fountain. Entertainment was provided by accordion player Tony Barrasso, a local entertainer and one of Elvis’ friends. Forty-five minutes into the reception, Barrasso played “Love Me Tender” as Elvis and his new wife walked under the bridal archway into the reception room. The guests applauded for a solid five minutes. Joe Esposito picked up his champagne flute and toasted the bride and groom: “In case no one here knows it, that’s Mr. and Mrs. Elvis Presley!” Elvis pretended to smack Joe upside the head. He then made a toast to his dear family and friends and told them to enjoy the festivities. After the meal, Elvis and Priscilla danced their wedding dance to “Let Me Call You Sweetheart.” Elvis stepped on Priscilla’s veil, which trailed down to the floor. Embarrassed, he quickly stepped off and excused himself, smiling as everyone snickered. The famous hip swinger could not get through a dance without stepping all over his petite wife. When the night came to an end, Elvis and Priscilla thanked their guests for participating in one of their most special moments. The new husband then led his wife upstairs for their own private celebration
Jim Curtin, “Elvis: Untold Stories Behind the Legend”
The God continued to cuddle him for awhile, face pressed to Dipper’s collar. The poor boy had no idea how to handle this. He gently pet his silk hair and murmured reassurances that he really was here. He hoped so anyway or this was one crazy dream.
Finally the God pulled away. “I am sorry.” He sat up and climbed from the bed, reaching back to help Dipper up.
“What did you mean, again?”
Cipher pulled him from the bed with a little more strength than necessary. “Well I suppose we should probably address the temple so people understand what happened to their band of young members.”
Dipper smirked at him. “Avoiding the question Lord Cipher?”
Theology for Beginners, Chapter 18: On the Steps of the Palace
Heimdall’s Observatory. First day of the Harvest Festival. Early morning.
“Welcome to Asgard.”
Never before had those words awakened such state of nerves in a visitor. Perhaps it was because this particular visitor had arrived unannounced, unprepared… and by completely unorthodox means of transport. Heimdall let go of his longsword, thinking (with very good instinct) that that the heavy two-handed weapon would be a bit intimidating to the mortal that stood before him. With Frigga’s words still fresh in his mind, the last thing he wanted to do was scare the woman and make her jump from the Bridge, or start screaming, or any of those other things he had witnessed other Midgardians do when they got in an unexpected situation.
Leah, meanwhile, was trying very hard to unstick her tongue from the roof of her mouth, where it had stubbornly decided to remain. Trying to remember her Law School oratory lessons she took a deep breath, commanded her knees to stop shaking (with zero results, but that wasn’t important anyway because her long gown blocked the view all the way down to her feet), and she finally could manage something that sounded a bit squeaky, but quite close to the voice of an adult woman.
“Am I really? Welcome? I mean… I know this is going to sound strange, but I have a very good reason for showing up here like this. You see, I have to-”