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Published:
2021-11-19
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1/1
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exploitation, hesitation

Summary:

The Coruscant Guard makes a mistake while working with the 212th Attack Battalion. Fox prepares to take the heat.

Work Text:

It was a mistake. An honest mistake, for troopers not always stationed on Venetor-class ships outfitted with a small army of maintenance droids and techs. The Coruscant guard did their own maintenance, for the most part; just things that the few droids they did have couldn’t get to or were lower priority. Fixing a sonic yourself versus pulling a droid away from fixing the bacta regulators in the medbay? No contest.

So it made perfect sense to Fox that Thorn and Stone, when the Negotiator’s caff machine went down, just dove in and tried to fix it. The Grand Army of the Republic couldn’t run without caff, after all. It was just Fox’s luck that this particular machine was different - it also made concentrated caff called express, or something - and now Thorn and Stone were drenched in brown liquid, little droplets of it running off their armor to join the growing puddle beneath their boots. Between them, the caff machine beeped twice, blinked a red light, and dribbled a stream of caff with a horrible bubbling wheeze. 

Right as Cody and his general descended on their frantic little huddle. 

All three of them snapped into formation. Outwardly, they seemed composed; standing at perfect attention in their red Guard armor, not a toe out of line. Fox had a lot of practice in willing his hands not to shake and keeping perfectly still while his mind raced to the worst possible outcomes.

How bad would it be? Cody hadn’t mentioned his general’s favorite punishment methods, but that didn’t mean anything. It’s not like Fox went around advertising the ration cutting, or the stints in solitary, or the ‘application of corrective force’ that the Red Guard was more than happy to provide whenever Fox fucked up-

Cody’s general stiffened with a sharp inhale of breath as he approached the two guards, and Fox suppressed a wince, watched Cody look at his general with concern. Should he say something, try to take the heat off Thorn and Stone at the jump? Or would this general take a trooper speaking without being spoken to as the insult it was, and make everything worse - 

Although. Then the general would only be focused on Fox.

Fox was speaking before General Kenobi could even open his mouth. 

“General, sir!” he said, snapping a perfect salute. “Please accept my deepest apologies for this incident. I have failed to brief my troopers thoroughly on maintenance procedures aboard the Negotiator. It won’t happen again, sir.”

General Kenobi followed the deferential tilt of Fox’s helmet with - amusement? Confusion? The man was difficult to read.

“Of course, Commander,” he said, “But it’s really no trouble for me to just show the men exactly where they went wrong-”

Fox’s spine went even straighter. The general himself, offering to deliver Thorn and Stone’s punishment personally ? Panic twisted in his chest, curled like lighting through his hands, and it was an effort to keep his voice flat and pleasant and not clench his fists.

“General Kenobi, that won’t be necessary. As the commanding officer of the Guard aboard this vessel, I will accept whatever punishment you see fit for this infraction.”

General Kenobi’s jaw dropped. Cody grimaced. Oh, he’d overstepped, he’d miscalculated, but there was nothing for it now-

“What - punishment ? My dear commander, all that’s needed is for your troopers to learn what they did wrong!”

Fox suppressed a shudder, forced down the half-forgotten memories flashing through his mind.

Tell me, Commander, what exactly did you do wrong? Don’t make this difficult.

“Of course, General. I’ll pass your discipline on to the troopers in question.” 

At Fox’s shoulder, Thorn shifted minutely, the only outward sign of his fear. Or protest. Fox was sure to get an earful from both of them about “being able to take it” or some such banthashit after this was all over. Once Fox was functional enough to return to duty, that is. 

“My discipline - I - Commander, could you remove your helmet, please?”

Shit. Well, his insubordination had worked to take the heat from Thorn and Stone. This was what he’d wanted, after all. Better brace himself.

Fox obeyed, without any sign of hesitation, and handed his helmet off to Stone; he wouldn’t be needing it for a while. 

Force, he hated being without his bucket. Although he knew his sabbac face was good, the best in his batch, the physical changes on his face were impossible to hide. He’d never met General Kenobi without his helmet on, but Cody would be expecting Fox to look like he always did: cleanshaven, with curls just a bit too long and a sharp, knowing gaze to go along with a sharp, knowing grin.

Instead, he looked like someone had run him through ARC training twice without any sleep at all and then dropped him off a building. Scars to rival Cody’s stretched across the bridge of his nose and down through his lip, and his jaw was dark with bruises under the shadow of stubble. The black eye and swelling he’d gotten from an angry senator was almost gone, thankfully, so he was able to meet General Kenobi’s eyes with both of his own.

There it was: a flicker of shock in Cody’s wide eyes. Kenobi just looked tense. Blue eyes traced over Fox’s features with an intensity that sent shivers of sick anticipation down his spine.

“Fox? Vod, what the heck?” Cody breathed. 

“Commander, what has happened to you?” asked Kenobi simultaneously. 

What could Fox say to that? How could he say, oh, yes sir, well this one was because a Senator’s pet bill didn’t pass and he wanted a punching bag, and this one was when a perp tried to run me over with a speeder, and this one, this one the Chancellor made with a letter opener because I wrinkled his mail-

“Injuries sustained in the course of duty, sir. The bruises are old, General, they should not impede you.”

Cody was shifting, now, like he wanted to interrupt. Fox chanced a quick glance at him, wanting to sign stand down , but Kenobi might know battlesign. Better not to risk it, and hope that Cody pulled himself together, or they’d both be in for it.

“Commander,” Kenobi said, in a voice so level you could serve drinks off it, “What, exactly, do you think I am going to do to you? For trying to fix a caff machine?”

Oh fuck . Cody’s general was one of those . No wonder Cody hadn’t said anything about typical punishments. 

Just Fox’s luck that his brother had to deal with them too - sadists who wanted Fox to pick his punishment, wanted to hear him say what he deserved, and wasn’t that a fine line to tread: too light of a punishment and he’d be disciplined for that , too strong and they’d have absolutely no problem giving it to him and he couldn’t afford to be out of commission for long, not when they were out here in space with the 212th in an unknown environment with so many unknown pitfalls-

Thorn cleared his throat, snapping Fox out of his panicked spiraling and back to the present.

Right. Punishment. What would Kenobi want? Fox didn’t know him, didn’t know his proclivities, just that he’d wanted Fox’s helmet off. He’d have to guess, and hope his brief hesitation would go unnoticed.

“For an infraction of this magnitude, sir, I would suggest manual cleanup of the area, half-rations for a ten-day, and physical discipline.” Kenobi didn’t need to know that the Guard on Coruscant already only got half the rations of the GAR proper, since they didn’t see frontline combat. 

Cody made a choked noise, like he was trying to hold a scream in behind his teeth. Fox could sympathize. He’d do better to put his helmet on and mute the speakers. The general was his focus, though, and he hadn't reacted to Fox’s suggestion at all.

Too light of a punishment, then. Fox had miscalculated, again. Tension sang through his body, forced into attention, still and unmoving.

“And are punishments like these a common occurrence?” the general asked.

Nerves clenched in his throat and he tried to swallow them down, tried to look for a way to slither out of the trap Kenobi was closing around him. 

“I am unaware of disciplinary statistics from other battalions, sir,” he said finally, hoping against hope that Kenobi would accept the non-answer.

The general shut his eyes for a long, long moment. Fox and Stone and Thorn braced for impact. Cody seemed to be almost vibrating .

Kenobi let out a sigh that seemed to sweep the tension from his shoulders. He slouched in his robes and passed a hand through his beard in a weary gesture before meeting Fox’s gaze again.

“Commander Fox. I believe we are talking at cross purposes, my apologies. I have no intention of- of disciplining you or your men for trying to fix a caff machine. The Jedi don’t believe in corporal punishment, much less for a simple misunderstanding.”

Relief, unfamiliar and overwhelming, flooded through Fox. A misunderstanding. Cody’s general was merciful, it seemed, and that was good news for Thorn and Stone and Fox and especially Cody-

“-in fact, I wasn’t aware that beating subordinates was sanctioned in the GAR manuals-”

Cody interrupted his general, and his general let him. “It isn’t, sir. Clone officers must adhere to regulations when disciplining troopers.” Cody took a deep breath, and without breaking eye contact with Fox, he continued. “Generals such as yourself are held to no such standard.”

Kenobi turned from Cody to Fox in confusion. “But - the Jedi would never - we don’t do this -” and he gestured vaguely at Fox. “It goes against everything we are, everything we fight for.”

“Yes, sir,” Fox answered crisply. Something strange was winding through him, looping through his chest and up his throat, different from the fear that had crushed his windpipe earlier. Could he - could he even dare - 

Fox said, “The Guard doesn’t have a Jedi, sir.”

Kenobi froze. All the Jedi’s intensity, all that power, focused on Fox. He leaned back, reflexively, mind flooded with ghost-like impressions of a similar sense of power come to bear down on him, but dark , dark and insidious and suffocating -

Kenobi was watching him. “No,” he said quietly, “No, you don’t. Curious, I’d almost forgotten. Which means your direct superior is…?”

He trailed off delicately, like he wanted Fox to finish the sentence.

Cody was still staring at him. Slowly, deliberately, he gave Fox a tiny nod. Cody had always been quick on the uptake, just as sharp as Fox but less paranoid.

Fox didn’t trust Cody’s general. Fox didn’t even trust Cody like he once had - everyone knew what the GAR thought of the Guard, and Fox’s batchmates were no exception. 

Still. This might be Fox’s only chance.

“The Supreme Chancellor, sir.”

“So he is,” said Kenobi, low and soft. His eyes narrowed and flicked from Fox to Stone to Thorn. “Gentlemen. Care to join me on a call to the Council? There seems to be something rotten on Coruscant, and I for one would dearly like to know what.”

That strange feeling in Fox’s chest twined around his lungs, leaving him breathless, and burst, flooding him with the unfamiliar sensation of hope.