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Please tell me you’re a hallucination, 775 words

Hux is almost certain he’s dying. 

The illness came on him swiftly, as it had the entire crew, reducing the Finalizer to a floating sick ward in a matter of days. The medical droids have yet to identify the pathogen, let alone its proper treatment. As best as they can determine, it originated from one of six patrols returned from disparate systems in the last week.

When Hux figures out which of those incompetent wretches broke with the quarantine and containment protocols, he’s going to have them court-martialed, then executed. And executed again.

Then he’s going to kill the rest of their squad, assuming any of them are still among the living. Assuming he is.

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