Techie froze and felt ice run through his veins. Why is Kylo Ren, of all people, talking to him?! The blood is pulsing so hard in his ears that he doesn’t even know what the man is saying, and can only stare blankly at him.
“Um, ah,” he says, very intelligently.
And then bolts for the nearest exit.
“Stay,” Techie blurts out, much too fast. He hates all the stuff they do to his eyes when he gets them checked. Maybe having Kylo Ren around to talk to while the tests go on would help keep him distracted.
“You think I’m t-tolerable?” That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to him. Even Armitage, at best, occasionally calls him “other Hux” instead of “reject”. “Sibling” in the rare event that he had a good lay and is in a better mood.
A different droid comes in and does a quick but obnoxiously loud outer scan of his sclera, cornea, and iris. The worst part is yet to come.
TechieHux 