In the beginning, he had. He had skimmed over the mind of the prim and proper General who had aggravated him and dared to try and order him around like a common trooper and quickly discovered two things: one that for someone without the Force, Hux had a surprisingly tight, closed off mind and two that his surface thoughts were so strict and exactly what he expected that for the most part, they were boring. Only on occasion, when Hux started himself into one of his more fevered pitches, did anything of interest come up. Then there was a seething rage, a burning pride, a rankled ego that were much more fun to turn around on the man.

Yet he had never gone deeper. He wouldn't think of himself with any kind of respect for Hux, no.

"Every man and woman on this ship could rise up in your defense, little General, and that still would be no threat." There was absolute certainty in Ren's threat, one that allowed him to make it without blinking or hesitation. His thumb dug in harder, and his order was as precise as anything Hux had given his troops. "Let. Go." If Hux released his garment, he would release the wrist under his fingers.