Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Cody felt his heart shudder to a stop that morning. He gripped the table so tightly it hurt, his mind scrambling to comprehend the CC number scrawled across the datapad before him. Outwardly, it was professional and crisp, signed off by CC-4477. Between the lines, Cody read it with sickening clarity. It was a cry for help. A desperate plea, nearly lost to the tangled channels of war. One phrase kept dragging his eyes, one comm line that kept beeping of an unanswered call.

..CC-1010 has been severely injured..

Fox. His batchmate. Was severely injured. What else did he not know?

It took hours for Cody to straighten things out. He was already on light duty from a recent battle injury. It didn’t take much convincing for his CMO to agree that sitting behind a desk in Coruscant was about as light as Cody’s duties would ever get. From there, it was merely a small step to clear the idea with his General.

Usually, the 212th could take care of itself. This was no exception. Cody put a temporary ranking structure in place until he could return, double-checked with General Kenobi, and packed a small bag. Then, with Trapper set to accompany him at his CMO’s orders, they took a smaller ship and started for Coruscant. 

~

Thorn nearly spit out his coffee when the orders popped up on his datapad. He lurched to his feet, knocking over a stack of datapads that hit the floor with a loud clatter, drawing a concerned look from Tally. The younger trooper had his bucket beside him, and had been diligently focusing on getting through paperwork. Now, he frowned up at his Commander.

“Where’s Thire?” Thorn managed to get out between choking on his coffee and gasping for breath. Tally raised an eyebrow.

“Patrol, I think.” He leaned over, snagging the schedule and scanning it. “Yeah, just got on about half an hour ago.”

“Karking shabuir!” Thorn snarled. Tally shot him an amused, concerned look.

“Something I should be worried about, sir?”

“Yes!” Thorn barked. He drained his coffee with two gulps. “Marshal Commander Cody is personally coming here, because he got word of the Guard’s ‘desperate situation’. He’ll be here in only a few hours!”

Tally hesitated, his quick mind weighing both sides of the problem. “Well… as a Marshal Commander he can temporarily assume Commander Fox’s position without any trouble.” 

“And how, exactly, is that supposed to help?” Thorn began pacing, round and round the small room. “Fox went through the bitter initiation period. He learned the Senators. He learned the Chancellor. He had his finger, heck, his whole hand, on the pulse of the Senate. Nobody, no matter what rank or how good they are, can flash learn something like that. Not even us, you know that.” He glared at Tally, who unhelpfully shrugged. 

Resuming pacing, he forged on. “And are we just supposed to tell the Marshal Commander that Senators are bound to blow up at the troopers? That we stand by and take cowardly insults and sneers while they, the ‘real’ troopers, fight and die on the front lines? What are we supposed to do about decommissioning?” Thorn practically wailed out the words. He glanced over in time to see Tally raise his eyes from his comm. “What’re you doing?” He asked, instantly suspicious.

Tally shrugged again, “Nothing, sir. Carry on.”

Thorn threw his hands up. “Carry on about what, exactly? What did Thire expect to fix by calling  the karkin’ Marshal Commander Cody here! Fox isn’t even-” he cut himself off with a pained hiss. “How am I supposed to do this?” He raked a hand through his curly, too long hair. “We need to get things in order! The barracks need cleaned. Where’s Hound? Call Hound,” he ordered, pausing only long enough to see Tally nod and look down at his comm. “Tell him to have the animal handling area ready for inspection. I need-”

“To calm down,” the steady voice snapped into Thorn’s thoughts like a blast of cold water. Thorn flinched, wheeling toward the voice. Keikr stood in the doorway, arms crossed, glowering at his Commander. Thorn took a hesitant step back. Any vod would be foolish not to with the CMO scowling at them like that. 

He stared nervously as Keikr marched into the room. “Sit down, Thorn. You were getting better with this.”

“I am!” he squeaked out, voice embarrassingly shrill, “I am getting better!” He nevertheless backed from Keikr’s ire, tripping over, and consequently sitting down in, his chair. For the first time, he realized his breath was coming in frantic little gasps. He tried drawing in a deeper breath, only to catch on something.

Keikr raised a judgemental eyebrow. “Tally commed me,” he flatly said. He started prodding over his Commander, who ignored him in favor of shifting to glare at Tally. Tattletale , he mouthed. The younger clone smirked and waggled his fingers.

“You were having a panic attack.”

“I was not-” Thorn loudly began. Suddenly he stopped. Sucked in a desperate, sharp breath. Let it out, slowly. Keikr flicked him a questioning glance, withdrawing the hypospray.

“That, vod, is why you’re supposed to visit the medbay when you get hurt. I have things to help. I am a medic, after all.”

Thorn glanced up. Keikr narrowed his eyes suspiciously, then let out a startled yelp and grabbed at Thorn as the Commander’s eyes rolled back and he went limp. He braced himself sideways against the heavier clone, snarling curses under his breath. 

“Kriff! Why’d you do that?” Tally leapt forward, and they steadied Thorn between them. Keikr looked up, meeting Tally’s wide eyes.

“I didn’t ‘do that’,” he huffed in annoyance. “‘That’ was a painkiller. It had absolutely no reason to knock him out unless his body was shutting down anyway, and the pain was the only thing keeping him awake.”

Tally huffed softly. “Well kriff.”

~

Cody had wondered who would meet him with Fox injured and Stone off planet doing a diplomatic escort. It hadn’t taken a genius to expect Thorn and Thire. So it was with some confusion that he stepped out of the ship to see two Guards standing at tense parade rest, one unmistakably a common trooper. Both had helmets firmly on. He strode over, helmet tucked under one arm, Trapper on his heels. The 212th member fell into easy parade rest behind his Commander with only a cursory nod of greeting at the other clones.

“I’m Marshal Commander Cody,” Cody said, as if there could be a mistake. It was really just to be polite, he figured. The Guard on the left, with more red than white on his paint, inclined his head. 

“CT-2000 at your service, Commander. This is CT-4781.” 

Did he imagine the anxious hitch of breath after the first numbers? Cody hesitated a moment. Nearly all the clones not fresh off Kamino gave names. Rarely were numbers heard anymore. “You have names, vod?” he gently prodded.

If possible, the Guards stiffened even further. It was the one on the right who answered this time. “Tally, sir. That’s,” he hesitated for the briefest second, “Commander Thorn.”

Cody smiled, “This is Trapper.” He gestured toward the orange trooper. “My CMO insisted he come along to make sure I don’t stress myself.” He curled his lip distastefully, sideying Trapper with mock wariness. While Trapper’s expression was hidden behind the helmet, the little head tilt he offered showed his smirk well enough. 

“Shall we?” Cody glanced toward the red-and-white speeder waiting nearby. Thorn dipped his head.

“Yessir.” He led the way. Cody and Thorn took the front, with Thorn driving. Tally and Trapper soundlessly climbed in back. Glancing over his shoulder, Cody frowned to see Tally had scooted as far from Trapper as possible within the cramped speeder. He brushed that aside for later, pulling his helmet on as Thorn eased into the traffic.

The Coruscant Guard headquarters were astonishingly empty. Cody kept scanning the area, expecting to see red-clad troopers hurrying about. However, the closest he got to that was a single Guard who rushed by, massif at heel beside him. He didn’t even stop to salute his superiors, his manner suggesting panic that he wasn’t already wherever he was going. Tally, bringing up the rear, prevented Trapper from breaking away and snooping around at all.

Thorn led the way to a small room, equipped with a single cot, bare desk, and a dim light overhead. “I’m sorry, sir. This is all we could manage.”

“This is where Fox lives?” Cody was glad his helmet hid his expression. His brother, his batchmate, lived in this tiny cell? But Thorn was shaking his head.

“No, sir. Commander Fox stays in the officers’ quarters with Thire, Stone, and uh, myself.”

“The four of you bunk together?” 

“Yessir. The rest of the guard stay in the barracks. If you’d like, your man can bunk down there.” His voice was firm. Cody absently nodded. With instructions, Tally and Trapper departed. Cody set his little bag on the cot.

“Can I see Fox?”

“No, sir.” Thorn didn’t even hesitate. “The CMO has banned anyone from visitation at this time.”

Cody sighed, slumping a little. “All right.”

“I’ll let you get settled, sir. You can comm me when you’re ready to go down to Fox’s office.”

“No need, Thorn,” Cody waved him off, “I can find my way there.”

Thorn’s helmet tilted a little, “If its all the same to you, Commander, I would feel more comfortable if you had a Guard with you while outside your quarters.”

Cody frowned. “All right.” He barely listened as Thorn dismissed himself and vanished. Something was up here.

His sentiment was echoed as Trapper slid into the seat next to him at mess that evening. “Commander, something’s wrong with the Guard,” he muttered lowly. Cody shot him a sideways look.

“Not now. Come to my quarters later.” He pointedly eyed the perfectly silent Guard scattered around the mess. Not a single one talked or laughed with each other. It was eerily silent and empty, with only twenty or thirty vod in the room.

Trapper nodded, picking at his meal distastefully. Cody scanned the room again. Even if there wasn’t verbal support, he saw signs of support everywhere. A pauldron pressed against the clone beside them, two clones squishing a third between them, one who kept prodding his vod to eat despite the obvious exhaustion leaking from him. There was something else that kept nagging at him, but he couldn’t quite place it. 

He glanced at the swirls of gray and yellow that decorated Trapper’s armor, the colors standing out starkly against the white and red of the Guard. Suddenly Cody’s eyes snapped up. He quickly scanned the room again, checking armour patterns. It wasn’t difficult; all the vod in the room still had their armour on, helmet clipped to their belt or set beside them.

Identical.

Every. Single. One.

Before Cody could mull over the realization, there was a commotion on the far side of the room.

“Where’s Keikr?” the voice echoed over the mess. Every head jerked toward the doorway.

“Not in the medbay?” someone ventured. The Guard shook his head. 

“He’s taking a shift. Senate rounds,” a Guard from near the back of the mess called. He rose, winding through the tables. “Nimrod should be on call, though.”

“He’s not enough!” The Guard gripped the edges of the doorway hard enough to make his gloves creak, his voice rising slightly.

Cody heard a muttered curse from the nearest group of Guards. The trooper who’d given Keikr’s location was beside the one in the doorway now, murmuring something encouraging. He patted his brother’s arm, slipped his helmet on, and marched from the room. The panicking Guard whirled and followed. Cody shoved back from the table. He waved off Trapper’s questioning look.

“Don’t bother saving my food.” He hurried out the door. Trapper shrugged, poking at the gray slop doubtfully. Hopefully there was something better at breakfast. It wasn’t bad , per say, merely equal to the field rations troopers were given. He’d expected better for being based on Coruscant. 

Cody had been unable to get ahold of the layout of the Guard base, as consequential got lost on his way to the medbay. He’d managed to find Fox’s office earlier, but only had time to eye the huge list of work in astonishment before a Guard materialized by his side and politely asked if he would like to meet Commander Thire. He hadn’t had a chance to explore since.

Now, instead of the medbay, he stumbled on the Guard barracks. At least, he thought they were barracks. A Guard in full armour, helmet on the floor beside him, lounged against the wall before a closed door. His eyes were half closed. His gaze flickered lazily over Cody, taking in the unmistakable posture and armour of a vod without alarm.

Abruptly, he flinched and shot to attention. “Commander Cody, sir!” His voice was loud, echoing in the narrow hall. Cody narrowed his eyes. Whenever his troops loudly greeted him, something… illegal was usually going on nearby.

“At ease. Are these the barracks?”

“Yes sir!” He sounded incredibly young, and his face matched it. Cody noted the tremble in the young clone’s hands.

“What’s your name?”

“CT-7-”

“No, your name ,” Cody carefully stressed the last word. 

The trooper hesitated, “Uh, R-Raven sir,” he managed to stammer out. The door behind him suddenly slid open. The clone standing there was fully armoured, bucket tucked under one arm. His eyes flicked between Cody and Raven questioningly. Cody shot a glance in the door behind him. The barracks were dark and silent. Then he stepped forward, between Cody and the young trooper in a way that was almost.. protective? The door slid shut.

“How may I help you, Commander Cody?” His voice was even and level, the perfect polite tone.

“I was looking for the medbay.” 

One eyebrow raised a fraction, but otherwise the trooper didn’t react. “Are you injured, sir?”

“No, no. Well, not recently,” he reluctantly amended, almost seeing his CMO scowling down at him. “There was a commotion in the mess. Something about the medbay. I was curious, hoping I could help.” He studied the clone, someone feeling he was familiar.

For the barest fraction of a second, something akin to alarm flashed across the clone’s face. Then it was gone. “Ah, yes sir. I can take you.” The incredibly polite tone was back. He slipped his helmet on. “If you’ll please come with me, sir.”

He strode past Cody, made a sharp right, and confidently marched down that hall. Cody lengthened his stride to keep up. This guard had the same idental paint as the rest of them, but Cody couldn’t shake the familiar feeling. He’d only met a few guards, though. He frowned.

“Are you Tally?”

“I’m sorry, sir. Clones don’t have names.” The blank reply felt almost scripted, obviously spouted off one too many times. Cody huffed.

“Like hell they don’t. Fox has a name. I have a name. That trooper by the door has a name. You’re the vod who introduced himself as 4781, Tally. Have you changed your mind?”

Abruptly, the Guard skidded to a halt. He whirled, staring at Cody’s face as if it held the secrets to the universe. Cody stood patiently, letting him judge for himself. What had happened that the Guard didn’t trust other clones? Didn’t trust their own brothers?

“No, sir.” The Guard turned on his heel. “I’m still Tally.”

“Thank you,” Cody said, and he meant it.

Chapter Text

Keikr got the comm halfway through patrols. He paused, motioning his partner to wait a moment while he ducked into the nearest closet. It wouldn’t do for a clone to be caught not patrolling like a dutiful meat droid. However, the comm flashed urgent, and Keikr knew he’d left the medbay manned by a shiny.

“What!” he hissed. The little holo-image of Thorn sprang up, panic evident in the Commander’s stance even through the shifty connection. Keikr had left him in the medbay, supposedly resting.

“Keikr, we need you back here, STAT!”

“Is it Fox?” Hope exploded unbidden in his chest, despite him trying to beat it down. Thorn’s shake of the head smashed it flat for him.

“No, Tack. He just came back in, and it’s not looking good.”

Keikr snarled a curse, “I’m on the far side of the Senate. I’ll be there as soon as I can.” He cut the connection, popping out of the closet. Dragon flicked him a concerned glance.

“I’ve gotta get back to the medbay.” At the panic flaring in his vod’ika posture, he hastily added, “It’s not Raven. Somebody will come to partner with you. Be extra vigilant, and always stay within sight of a security camera until, ok?”

Dragon nodded, looking nervous, but determined. Keikr didn’t have to explain his cautionary statement. Dragon and Raven, despite being shinies, had both been in the Guard long enough to know that brothers disappeared when they were alone. Keikr hesitated a moment more, then wheeled and sprinted down the hall. 

Dragon drew a deep breath. He could do this. He wasn’t named after the fabled, fire-breathing creature for nothing, he reasoned.

~

Thorn glanced up in harried annoyance as he registered a vod subtly waving at him from the sidelines. He threw a scowl toward-Cody? He froze for a moment, then recovered and continued his steady pressure against the gaping wound. He wasn’t letting a vod die just because the Marshal Commander showed up. Technically, Cody had met Thorn, despite Thorn having not met Cody. He blamed that on Keikr, definitely.

“Commander Cody,” he coolly greeted, “How can I help you?” He should have known Cody would stick himself in the first trouble he could find. He was, after all, Fox’s vod’ika. 

Cody studied him a moment, “I don’t think I need assistance, Commander,” he politely said. “Is there anything I can do to help you?”

Thorn automatically glanced toward Nimrod. The shiny medic was rigging an IV beside the unconscious Guard, his fingers flying as he tried to hurry. It took him a moment to notice Thorn’s stare. He followed it to the yellow-clad Commander, blinking as his mind caught up with the spoken words.

“Oh. No sir, thank you sir.” He immediately looked back down at the IV. Tally was edging toward the door, subtly trying to draw Commander Cody from the room. Thorn felt a grateful rush. He didn’t think it would work, but bless Tally for trying. He was probably the only one on the base who had the guts to try and relocate a Marshal Commander who didn’t want to leave.

He watched out of the corner of his eyes as Tally tried suggesting, coaxing, encouraging, and finally guilt-tripping the Commander into leaving. All failed. Cody was staying.

Thorn huffed out a short breath.

He’d seen wounds before, he knew. He just didn’t look forward to the conversation coming after, as Cody investigated how, exactly, this trooper had been injured. How was he supposed to protect Fox’s little brother if said little brother began prying into things?

No, he decided, it would be better to just keep the borrowed Marshal Commander far away from it all until Fox returned and kicked him back to the 212th. There was a crash from the hallway, a vod’s voice raised in hasty apology, then Keikr skidded around the corner. He paused for a moment in the doorway, eyes flashing over the room to take everything in.

Then he shoved forward, giving Tally an extra push toward the bloody Guard who hovered uncertainly in the corner. Tally took the hint, stepping forward. Thorn could barely hear the hushed conversation from where he crouched.

“What’s your name, vod?”

“Don’t-don’t have one, sir…” the clone mumbled, “I’m CT-5627.”

“Well, ‘27. How does the name Hero sound?”

“Wha…?” Obviously that snapped him from the descending panic attack. Tally wrapped an arm around his shoulders. 

“You saved Tack’s life, getting him here so quickly.”

The shiny ducked, muttering something about Hound stopping the bleeding. Tally dramatically glanced around. His gaze accidentally landed on Cody, and he jerked away, lowering his voice even further, “Well I don’t see Hound here now, vod. This was you. Come on.” He tugged the shell-shocked shiny from the room. He knew how upsetting it was to see a vod dying in front of your eyes, especially for a shiny. 

Thorn was distracted as Keikr suddenly and unceremoniously shoved him aside. The pressure on the wound abated, and blood began gushing out. 

“Nim, set up a blood transfusion!” Keikr snapped, stuffing bacta-infused gauze in the wound. Nimrod didn’t reply, merely rushing to obey. “Thorn, get back over here and hold this.”

Thorn complied. He saw Cody edging closer, and hoped he wouldn’t say anything. In this mood, Keikr was as likely to stab him with a needle as be polite. The last thing he needed was for Cody and Keikr to be on bad ground. Keikr’s hurried footsteps rushed around the table where Tack lay, gathering supplies into his arms and depositing it beside Thorn. Nimrod finished his preparations and glanced around questioningly.

“You can use my blood,” Cody volunteered. Keikr didn’t even hesitate, focused on starting the needle in Tack’s arm.

“Respectfully, sir, kriff off,” Keikr stated. 

Thorn winced, eyes sliding sideways to the Commander. Cody didn’t even blink, entirely unphased. Keikr hesitated the briefest moment, and Thorn realized he’d forgotten this wasn’t their personal Marshal Commander, but a borrowed one. Well, at least it looked like Cody wasn’t easily offended, he decided. 

“I can-” he began, but was fixed with such an expression that he immediately wilted. “Nevermind.” He knew what Keikr would say if they didn’t have a stranger hovering within earshot. He’d chew him out good for trying to give away blood after collapsing from exhaustion less than a day ago. 

“Tally!” 

Tally jumped at the sharpness of his name as he stepped back in the room. Before he had a chance to respond, Keikr had seized his arm and dragged him towards the chair. 

“Vambraces, off. Roll up your blacks.”

Tally relaxed as he realized what was wanted of him. He quickly shucked off a vambrace, tugging his blacks up to expose the veins in his arm. He did, however, look away as Keikr leaned over him with a needle. Thorn tried to offer him an encouraging smile, remembering Tally was deathly afraid of needles.

Keikr finished and swept back to Thorn. “I got this,” he nudged his Commander aside much more politely this time. “Go get some sleep. Medics orders.”

Thorn reluctantly withdrew, glancing over where a steady red stream flowed between Tally and Tack. Tally had leaned his head back, helmet resting against the back of the hard chair. Probably had his eyes closed, too, Thorn thought enviously. 

He turned to the patiently waiting Cody. “Commander, if you have time, I can show you to Commander Fox’s office?”

Cody nodded, falling in step beside Thorn as they walked from the medbay. “I actually already found it, but left to meet Thire before I could do anything.”

Thorn bit back a grimace. Of course the Marshal Commander was already wandering the base unattended. “Well, then I could show you the work?” he offered. Cody nodded.

“I would appreciate it. Marshal Commanders are similar, but each have a slightly different way of doing things.”

“Yessir,” Thorn nodded. He noted with a pleased expression the Guard that filtered around them headed for the barracks all had their helmets on. Word had spread like wildfire that there were two strangers on the base, and nothing could make a Guard close down faster than the sight of someone that didn’t belong.

Thorn waved his hand in front of the motion sensor light as they stepped into Fox’s office. He winced at the sight of the work that lay waiting. 

“How long has he been gone?” Cody asked curiously, walking around the desk. Thorn automatically fell into easy parade rest, wincing as the movements strained his ribs. 

What was he supposed to tell Cody? The truth? No, definitely not. That would get the Commander all riled up, and probably marching out into the night to do something that would get him killed.

“We’ve been taking some of his paperwork, sir,” he deflected instead. “With Commander Stone off planet, we can’t keep up.” The lie tasted bitter on his tongue, directed at a vod. He’d lied to Senators, every day. Multiple times a day. But despite being an outsider, Cody was still a vod. He pushed that aside for later. 

Brother or not, Cody was an outsider. It was none of his business that this was Fox’s usual allotment of work. Thorn and Tally had been keeping up just fine, thank you very much. Well, mostly keeping up… 

Cody was sifting through the stacks. He suddenly became aware of Thorn again. “Are there any special tricks to all this, Commander?”

Thorn shook his head, “It’s just paperwork, sir.”

Cody huffed a short laugh, “Well at least that’s the same across the GAR.”

Thorn stilled his instinctive denial. The Coruscant Guard wasn’t part of the GAR. They were an outlier, a separate branch. He shoved that aside for later consideration as well. “If there’s anything you need, sir, here’s my personal comm.” He shared it to Cody’s comm, allowable from the close proximity of them both. “You can also stop any Guard, and they’ll help you.”

“What about shifts?” Cody was looking down at the comm, and thankfully missed Thorn’s incredulous double-take. 

“Shifts, sir?” his uncertainty must have been heard because Cody glanced up with a brief frown.

“Yes. What does the Guard call them?”

“Uh, shifts. Sir,” Thorn mumbled. “You don’t have any shifts. Just the..” he waved a hand at the desk, “..the that stuff. If you’ll excuse me, I need to check in on…” he made a hasty escape before finishing that thought. For a moment, he allowed himself to breath outside the shut door, trying to remember the exercises Keikr had taught him. Then he shoved himself away from the wall and marched back to the medbay.

He walked in on a heated, low-voiced argument. Thire was sprawled over an empty bed, dirty armor and all. Tally had been released from blood-giving duty, and perched on the edge of the same bed.

“What were you thinking, letting him in the medbay like that?” Keikr snapped. Tally shrunk back a little. 

“I’m sorry. He was looking for it. I couldn’t very well abandon him. Thorn gave orders for him not to wander alone.”

“But the medbay, really? What if he realizes Fox isn’t-“ Keikr cut himself off and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Next time maybe take him the long way so I can be here to stop him before he gets in, ok?”

Tally nodded. “We kinda went the long way, but I was afraid he’d notice.”

“He doesn’t know the base layout,” Thorn put in from the doorway, drawing everyone’s attention. “I told him we don’t have any maps, which we don’t, and that a Guard could be with him.”

“But who!” Thire groaned, dragging a hand over his face. “All the shinies need an experienced vod with them, so there’s like 15 Guard right there. We sure can’t send any shinies searching.”

Everyone agreed on that immediately. Tack was not a shiny. He was experienced in ways nobody dared consider for too long. And yet, there he lay, still and motionless with an IV and huge bandage. Thorn helped himself to the side of the bed where Thire hadn’t sprawled. He laid his head on Thire’s shoulder, letting out a little groan of pleasure as his sore body relaxed.

“We would have lost him without Hound and Grizzer,” Thire mumbled. “Grizzer absolutely shredded the guy while Hound tried to stop the bleeding. But ‘27 was the one who brought him back.” He sounded half asleep.

“Returning to the current problem,” Keikr announced. Everyone groaned. Tally flopped over onto Thorn, who let out a startled whuff of air. “We can’t let Cody wander around unattended. He’ll probably get himself into trouble, and if Fox, holding the same rank, was on thin ice, you can bet this Marshal Commander is walking on water tension. If he finds trouble, we-“

“He’s Fox’s vod’ika. Of course he’ll find trouble,” Thorn grumbled into the arm slung across his face. Fox, intentionally or not, always managed to get into the worst trouble.

Keikr huffed, “Well, we can slow that down as much as possible by keeping tabs on him and sticking a Guard to his boots.”

“Is that really necessary?”

Thorn and Keikr both scowled, but it was Keikr who answered. “You want to face Fox and tell him we let his vod’ika get hurt?” Tally drooped, realization dawning.

“I already told him he’s not pulling shifts,” Thorn helpfully inserted. “He…didn’t look real pleased.”

Keikr suddenly sprang to his feet. “Can Tally be spared? I think he’d be best fit for it.”

Tally’s eyes widened in alarm as Thorn thoughtfully frowned, mind trying to shuffle the schedule around. Then he sighed. “I don’t know. Ask Sketch.” Sketch had quickly claimed himself the position as official scheduler and book-keeper, due to his brilliant mind and easy-going humor. Keikr nodded, already focusing on the next thing, this time nudged by his medic brain.

“Thire, you were relieved by Hound, right? So now you’re off duty?”

When Thire didn’t answer, Thorn twisted to look at his batchmate’s face. He and Keikr came to the same conclusion at the same time. Thorn groaned enviously. Keikr grabbed Tally’s wrist, dragging him from the pile.

“You, get to bed. Your shift was over a while ago.” He shoved him toward the door. “I’ll make sure your patrols are cleared tomorrow. Sleep in, then report to Commander Cody. Remember you lost a lot of blood today.” He reached for Thire’s boots.

Tally stumbled, glanced longingly back toward the sleeping Tack, and smacked into the doorframe. He scowled, rubbing his head.

“That, vod, is why you always keep your helmet on,” Thorn snickered. Tally glared at him, then, at Keikr’s stern look, hastened out the door. Keikr tugged Thorn to his feet reluctantly.

“You get to bed too. Just leave him,” he gestured at the sound asleep Thire.

“Can’t I stay here?” Thorn whined. “The officers' barracks are quiet and empty.”

“Good.” Keikr said shortly. He was loosening Thire’s cuirass. “Maybe you’ll sleep instead of fussing over brothers. You spent all day in the medbay.”

“In my defense, I was unconscious for most of it,” Thorn argued. “And for the rest of it, your toothy little protege wouldn’t let me leave.”

“Out.” Still, Thorn hesitated. Keikr glanced up, softening. “The nightmares are back, aren’t they.” It wasn’t a question. Thorn reluctantly nodded.

“Since when?” Keikr moved over to a cupboard, digging out a blanket. 

“The last blackout mission,” Thorn mumbled, shuffling his feet like a nervous cadet. 

Keikr nodded. He made a broad gesture. “Get your armour off.”

Thorn obediently began shucking off the armour, neatly stacking them beside the bed. Keikr wasn’t sure when or how he’d gotten it back on, since he knew Tally had taken it all off when they realized Thorn had to meet Commander Cody. Keikr, working with skill gained from repetition on dozens of vod, stripped Thire of his armour without waking him before rearranging him fully on the bed. Thire never once stirred.

Keikr waited until Thorn was curled around his older batchmate before flipping the blanket over the pair of them. He pointed an accusing finger at Thorn. “You. Sleep.”

Thorn nodded. Keikr turned away, tired mind working through what he had to do next. Nimrod had gone to cover the rest of Keikr’s shift with Dragon. It wasn’t ideal, two shinies together, but they were both on the verge of losing their shiny status. 

Tack was resting quietly, and Keikr felt a pleased glow as he knew his brother would pull through. He checked on the few other clones confined to his medbay, all but one sound asleep. He shushed the one, staring up with frightened eyes. He hesitated, trying to recall all that he had to do. Then he pushed it aside. Tugging off his boots, he climbed into the narrow bed with the nightmare-plagued clone.

He heard the trembling breath let out as Keikr settled over, half on top of him. Clones were tactile species, the Guard even more so than normal. His patient dropped out like a light, and Keikr quickly found himself lulled to sleep despite his best efforts, the beating of his vod’s heart against in his ears a steady comfort.

Chapter Text

“Commander Thorn!” the snapped voice brought Thorn to his feet with a startled lurch. He blinked, focusing on Cody standing in front of his desk. How had he gotten right there without being noticed, he wondered? He brushed that aside. In the four days since Commander Cody’s arrival, he proved annoyingly resourceful and unfortunately full of surprises. Keikr had caught him in the medbay twice already, presumably looking for Fox. Fortunately, he’d reported he’d chased the Marshal Commander out before he wisened up.

Thorn shook himself from his thoughts as Cody put both hands on the desk and leaned forward. Behind him, Tally appeared in the doorway, making nervous gestures with his hands. 

“Tell me, Thorn. Did Fox relax in his office and sip coffee all day while you all pulled shifts? He was an ‘office Commander’?”

Thorn bristled . “Of course not,” he snapped. “He would-” abruptly he cut off, staring at Cody. Cody smirked, leaning back and crossing his arms.

“Exactly my point, Commander Thorn.”

Thorn let out a rippling breath. “Point taken, sir.” He glanced at the clock, “I have a shift starting in three minutes. Would you like to accompany me?”

Cody dipped his head in acceptance. They scooped up their helmets and Thorn locked the office behind them. He tapped his comm, opening an audio call. 

“Eyeee! It’s a grand day, is it not?” someone gleefully picked up, an obvious accent hanging on their words. Thorn rolled his eyes.

“Sketch, can you reschedule Benito to Hound’s patrol?”

“Aye aye, sir! Right on it!”

Cody raised an eyebrow as Thorn hung up. “He sounds like the character.”

“Oh, he is, sir,” Thorn assured him. “Sketch is…” he hesitated, searching for the right words, and finally settled on, “special.”

There was an aborted choking sound behind them, and Thorn remembered Tally was still set to follow Cody. He waited until they were at the front desk before politely excusing himself from the Commander for a moment.

“Tally,” he beckoned the younger trooper. “Go spell whoever’s watching the goldie-boy.”

“Trapper?”

“Yeah, him. Remember, we can’t let him get too nosy either, cause whatevers said to him seems to get to the Commander. He’s been on patrols, yeah?”

Tally nodded, “Sketch put him on with the most experienced Guard, I think, but I can spell them.”

Thorn nodded, “Good, good. Send them to join Hound’s patrol too. The more men we can spare to look, the sooner-” he was interrupted by Sketch materializing at his elbow.

“Sir, do you want me to rearrange patrols so you get the outer Senate area? Less people to see you both. Since, you know,” he made a subtle gesture toward Cody. “the yellow shiny?”

Thorn barked out a laugh at Sketch’s boldness, “No. We’ll be fine. I don’t think the Senators will bother him, since he’s… yellow.” 

“What about requests from…” Tally helplessly gestured a little, “You know,” he dropped his voice dramatically, “The Chancellor?”

Thorn’s face darkened. “The last he knows, we’re out a Commander. Let’s try to keep it that way. Send any requests to me.” He noted Cody shifting a little, hiding his impatience well. He patted his men on the shoulder. “Get on, both of you.” He rejoined Cody.

“Ready?” Cody visibly brightened, and Thorn was hit with a sickening feeling as he realized it was an exact copy of Fox’s rare expression when he was pleased with something, and willing to show it.

“Ready when you are, sir,” he muttered, pulling his bucket on. If he could, he would chuck the yellow Commander out the nearest door and welcome his own Marshal Commander back with open arms. His heart cried out, but he ruthlessly shut it down, drawing a deep breath to focus.

However, as he stepped out, he was keenly aware that his sentiment was echoed by every Guard on Coruscant.

Fox, where are you?

~

Thorn waited until the lift doors were about to open before springing the Rules on Commander Cody, who looked progressively bewildered at each word.

“Commander Cody, please take this with all my due respect, but listen carefully. Don’t talk to Senators. Let me do the talking. Stay by me, don’t respond to insults, keep your head down, obey what the Senators tell you, don’t interact with the non-Corrie guards, and follow my lead. And above all, don’t talk back.”

Cody opened his mouth, no doubt a hundred questions on the tip of his tongue. The lift doors slid open to reveal three Senators standing in front of them. Thorn ducked his head, murmured an apology to the Senators, and scuttled from the lift. Cody hastily followed. 

One of the Senators let out a miffed huff, something about “derogatory clones” drifting toward the two Commanders as they walked away. Cody stiffened. Thorn shifted his steps slightly, enough to bump their pauldrons together. He was pleased as Cody eased a little. Usually, it took a few weeks for shinies to become entirely desensitized toward the scathing remarks and insults hurled at them. 

Of the three they’d gotten from the front, only ‘27 was a shiny, the other two having been in combat at least once. However, Fox’s rules stood: anybody entering the Guard was a shiny, and to be treated as such.

Thorn made a right turn at the intersection of hallways, Cody keeping pace beside him. He would take his usual route, he decided. It should be safe enough at this time. The halls were empty, and Thorn let his mind wander, staying present just enough to ensure they weren’t going to march into a Senator.

While the rest of GAR shinies had to earn their paint, here, paint was mandatory. One of the older vod usually was given the task of painting it, Sketch, more often than not. They could ensure it was perfectly uniform with the rest of the Guard. Their interchangeable armor had already saved lives. Only the Commanders differed. First, it was Fox, to separate himself in order to take the heat off the other Commanders and troopers. Hound, despite not being a Commander, had been next to follow. Thire, Stone, and himself changed their paint shortly after.

He took another right, pleased at the emptiness of the long, endless corridors. He hadn’t expected trouble, but it was nice to not even run into any Senators. Cody still held his tongue beside him, obviously keeping the questions for later. The Guard may have disliked and not trusted the Marshal Commander, but Thorn could recognize an upright vod when he saw one. Cody was smart, and well capable of using it to his advantage.

He wondered about the other 212th trooper Cody had dragged along. Hopefully, with experienced Guards keeping an eye on him, he wasn’t catching too much flak about his weirdly colored armor. He’d have to warn them to try and keep the oddly-painted 212th member away from Senators. Maybe he could put him on Hound or Thire’s patrols. He would-

“You! Clone!”

Thorn snapped back to the present with startling speed, his eyes landing on the door that had just slid open. He halted and came to attention with precision, aware of Cody mimicking his movements beside him. They were in the apartment complex of the Senate. The male chiss stared suspiciously at the orange-yellow Commander for a moment before shifting back to the familiar red and white Thorn. Thorn’s mind leaped ahead, trying to recall the Senator’s name, and where it lay on Fox’s list. 

“There’s a safety breach in my apartment,” the chiss accused. 

“I’m sorry, sir,” Thorn respectfully dipped his head a little. He wasn’t entirely sure what the Senator wanted them to do about it, and he’d learned years ago not to try and assume what a Senator would say. The blue face was staring at Cody again, wrinkled in confusion and distaste.

Thorn waited in silence for a long, long moment before gingerly prompting the Senator. “How may we assist you with your… security breach, Senator?”

The eyes snapped back to Thorn. “You can fix it, that’s what!” he grumbled. 

“Yessir,” Thorn nodded. “We’ll get right on it.” The chiss was already ogling Commander Cody again.

“What’s that?” he abruptly barked.

Thorn bit back a sigh, schooling his voice into polite Senator mode. “This is Commander Cody, of the 212th. He is here to observe our Command structure.”

“Good, good!” the senator nodded eagerly. “Maybe he can teach the rest of you clones something.” He jerked back into his room, the door sliding shut. Thorn let out a tired breath. He wasn’t aware of Cody moving until the Marshal Commander had fully rounded on him, and Thorn was backed against a wall.

“Are they all like that?” he snapped.

“Uh…” Thorn stammered. What was he supposed to say? Yeah, most of them. You’ll get used to it. Watch out for the blacklisted ones, though. They’ll get you decommissioned if you set a foot wrong. He cleared his throat, “Uh, there’s some nice ones.” He managed.

Cody huffed, still not actually touching Thorn. Thorn abruptly realized the Marshal Commander was taller than him. Not by even an inch, but when he was used to brothers all exactly the same size, it was a little disconcerting to look up at another clone, no matter how short the up was. 

“Shall we continue?” he ventured. Cody stepped back quickly, as though having forgotten how close he was. 

“Of course,” he murmured. He trailed behind Thorn for the next corridor and a half, seeming lost in thought. It made Thorn uneasy. Whenever Fox started thinking, things would happen. He doubted it was any different with Fox’s batchmate. 

Fortunately, another stop snapped the Marshal Commander from his pensive attitude.

Unfortunately, it was a senator who was, in her opinion, on extremely good ground with the clones. Thorn shuddered at the sight of her, striding down the corridor with two hapless aides lagging behind. Thorn quickened his pace, hoping maybe a polite nod would do it for the senator today. He sensed confusion as Cody was forced to hastily adjust his own steps to catch up. However, the instant the senator’s eyes landed on him, Thorn realized he was doomed.

“Commander!” She sounded utterly thrilled. Thorn came to a reluctant halt.

“Senator,” he greeted, keeping the bare politeness in his tone. The senator leaned forward. She flicked a brief glance at Cody, and Thorn saw the moment she dismissed him as unimportant.

“How have you been?” her charmed tone didn’t sway him at all. “Fine, ma’am,” he blandly replied. “I should get on with my patrol.”

“Oh, now you can’t be serious?” She took a step closer, smiling with all her teeth. “I haven’t seen one of you Corrie Commanders in ages!” She was uncomfortably close now, and reached forward to trail a hand up his breastplate. “I’ve had to… make do.. with the regular boys…” She looked up at him, blinking her long lashes and offering him a coy smile. She was easily a full head shorter than him.

Thorn jerked in a stuttering breath. “Apologies, Senator.” He gritted out. She tapped his chestplate thoughtfully.

“Take off your helmet,” she murmured, leaning into the armour, “I want to see your face.”

“It’s the same as the others, Senator.”

She shot him a petulant look, “Oh, come on. Humor me, Commander,” her voice dropped, so only the two of them could hear, “I would hate to have to take one of your boys off my schedule.”

A little shudder flashed through Thorn. She wouldn’t. She never had, but other senators requested reconditioning and decommissioning for less. He reached up, unsealing the helmet and pulling it off. He tucked it under the elbow nearer to her, hoping to ‘accidentally’ push her aside a little. She merely scooted sideways and ducked closer to him.

“That’s better,” she murmured, leaning up against him. There was a little noise from behind him, and Thorn slipped a hand behind his back to flash a ‘hold’ signal at Cody. He didn’t make it a practice of ordering his superiors around, but if said superior was about to barge in and make a bad situation absolutely horrible, he wasn’t against it.

The senator was running her hands over him, mumbling low, seductive words that Thorn entirely tuned out. He was frozen, fighting to keep his wits about them. He’d fine-tuned the ability to disappear into his head; all the experienced Guard had, but he couldn’t do that. Not with Cody behind him, relying on him for protection.

Granted, the Marshal Commander would probably squawk indignantly at the thought of being protected, but Thorn would sooner kill himself than let something happen to Fox’s vod’ika. 

One of the aids cleared their throat. Thorn nearly gasped at the intrusion, and clung to the distraction like a lifeline. The Senator didn’t turn until the aid gently coughed in a pointed manner.

“What?” she finally snapped, not taking her eyes off Thorn.

“Miss, you were already running late for your appointment,” they timidly said.

The Senator offered him a little pout, trailing a hand down the side of his face. Her fingers were cold. “I’m sorry, Commander. It looks like my assistance is needed elsewhere.” She leaned forward, lips brushing his neck, “Maybe later you’ll come to my rooms, love…” she murmured, breath hot against his ear.

Thorn resisted the urge to yank back. She’d never been so bold. “I’m sorry, Senator. I’m on duty.” 

She pulled back, the pout back on her face as she spoke in a normal volume, “Oh, they overwork you boys, don’t they?” She patted his cheek with a slender hand. “I’m off, then!” Without further ado, she flounced down the hall. The aid who’d spoken shot him a sympathetic look before hurrying after her. 

Thorn stood perfectly still, not even turning to watch her, yet knew the moment she’d rounded the corner and was out of sight. He slammed his helmet back on.

Cody swore, and Thorn nearly lept out of his armour at the reminder of someone behind him. 

“Thorn, are you ok?” Cody moved forward, hovering anxiously as though he wanted to touch, but was afraid. 

“Fine,” Thorn barely managed to not snap. “Let’s go.” He marched forward, his crisp soldier’s gait giving away none of his tumultuous feelings. After a moment, he heard Cody’s boots pattering after him.

“Does that happen often?” Something dangerous filled Cody’s tone. Thorn shot him a sideways look, but there was nothing to see beyond the yellow-painted helmet. He looked straight ahead again, willing his voice steady.

“The Commanders’ paint is different for a reason,” he deadpanned. “Nobody lets the shinies-” he cut off as they rounded another corner, nearly running smack into a little entourage. A tiny woman craned her neck up at the pair of them as Thorn hastily backpedaled. 

“I’m sorry, senator!” His voice veered from the polite range, almost panicked. The little woman waved at him carelessly. She peered up, and Thorn felt relief sweep him.

“Senator Yulanta!” he blurted out. She smiled, a toothy thing, with a pleased expression. Her aides offered the two clones friendly smiles, hanging back from the interactions.

“Is that…” she cocked her head, and Thorn obliged by speaking again.

“It’s me, Senator.”

The little lady lit up spectacularly, “Commander Thorn!” She let out a pleased cackle as Thorn confirmed it. Then she gave his knees a shove, and he amiably stepped aside. She peered shortsightedly at Cody. “What’s that gaudy thing?” she shoved a little finger questioningly, glancing toward Thorn. He chuckled, dropping to a crouch to be on her level.

“That’s Marshal Commander Cody, come to visit us for a few days.”

The woman sniffed judgmentally. “Garish colors!” She declared. “Absolutely repulsive!”

“I’m sorry ma’am,” Thorn tried to tamp down his mirth. While Cody might prefer yellow or orange, Thorn would definitely take red any day. Yulanta rounded on Cody, who took a surprised step back before stilling himself.

“Young man, you should know yellow is extremely hard to match anything to!” She complained. Cody hesitated, his helmet tilting a little in a way Thorn associated with searching for words. But Yulanta was on a roll, “It is the absolute worst fashion thing you could have picked! Men! Absolutely no fashion sense! Now Thorn here,” she patted his knee, “He’s got it good. Him and the other Corries. Go red, or go home, I say!” She waved a hand energetically.

Before Cody could muster up an answer to all that, she trundled off down the hallway. Her tittering escort tagged after, shooting amused glances toward Cody and Thorn, who rose to his feet.

Cody, bewilderment in his posture clear as sunshine, cast a last look toward the tiny woman before following Thorn in the opposite direction. Thorn found himself smiling involuntarily, the woman’s bright personality a balm to the jabs and grating of the rest of the senators.

“Senator Yulanta is one of the strangest, best you’ll find. Blind as a covered camera, but uncanny hearing,” Thorn explained. “We figured out she can see some things, but just vague and blurry.” He chuckled, “And apparently, she doesn’t like yellow.”

“It’s orange ,” Cody stiffly said. Thorn cackled. The patrol went as well as expected from there out. They were stopped a few more times, usually to ask for directions or answer a few questions. Thorn steadfastly ignored the scathing remarks, and Cody struggled to copy him.

One, a young male senator, actually asked for their numbers after they assisted him in arranging some furniture. Thorn hesitated the briefest moment.

“CC-1062, sir.”

“CC-2224, sir,” Cody mimicked the format. The young senator blushed, brushing his hands nervously against the robes that probably cost more than a new speeder.

“Well, thank you, CC-1…” he trailed off.

“Our pleasure, sir,” Thorn politely said. He led the way back to the corridor.

“You changed your number!” Cody hissed once they were clear of the senator’s apartment. Thorn shot him a bemused look, obviously distracted.

“No, I didn’t,” he huffed. 

“CC-1062?” Cody double-checked. Thorn absently nodded, scanning their surroundings. Cody frowned, easing back. He was unconvinced, but nevertheless dropped the subject. 

Suddenly somebody stepped out from the hall in front of them. Cody visibly tensed at the sudden movement, and Thorn stuck a foot out to bump his leg surreptitiously. Inside, he felt cold.

Of all the kriffin’ times the Chancellor needed him, it had to be on Cody’s first patrol. His heart sank as he considered the implications of that.

“Commander, your presence is requested by the Chancellor.” The red-robed guard droned. “You are to come with me.”

Thorn immediately stepped forward, praying to all the gods he didn’t believe in that Cody wouldn’t follow. “Of course, sir. I am at the Chancellor’s behest.” He turned to Cody, “You’re dismissed, trooper. Report to Sergeant Tally for your next orders.”

For a moment, he saw uncertainty flickering in Cody’s posture. He fixed him with his best glare through the helmets, gritting his teeth so hard his jaw ached. Abruptly, Cody snapped his heels together into attention, saluting Thorn. 

“Yessir!” 

Thorn nodded once, then turned and strode away, not daring to look back and ensure Cody was headed back for the Guard base. 

They’d tried. 

They’d tried so hard to hide the Marshal Commander, to slip him under the radar so the Chancellor wouldn’t notice. But then he had to insist on a patrol, wearing his 212th armour with that ridiculous, karking yellow paint.

Thorn drew in a deep breath, letting it out slowly. Nothing to be helped now. He just had to pull a Fox, and walk away from this still upright.

Chapter Text

Cody stood in the hallway, staring in the direction Thorn had gone for a disproportionate amount of time before he willed his limbs to move. He was curious—incredibly so—but refused to allow himself to destroy the military ranking in such a way.

Yes, he reasoned, technically he was over Thorn, and the rest of the Guard. That didn’t change the fact they’d been dealing with this osik for far longer than he had. He was, he ruefully admitted to himself, still a shiny in this area. Thorn had obviously considered him that, trying to keep him off patrols, then giving him simple rules, and then, beyond Cody’s wildest expectations, actually treated him like a shiny and sent him back to the barracks. The confession pained him, and he decided he would erase the unpleasant status as quickly as possible.

He had little trouble finding his way back to the Guard base, having been paying attention to their route out. The clone manning the front desk shot him a suspicious look the instant he set foot in the room. Two Guards leaned over the counter, their backs to Cody. One tapped away on a data pad. The other watched with interest whatever the booking Guard was doing, hidden by his desk. The only Guard facing him narrowed his eyes slightly at Cody.

“Hey, focus Sketch.” The watching clone waved a hand in front of his brother’s eyes, drawing a startled blink. Sketch glanced back down, fingers flying before flipping the data pad at the Guard and shoving back from the desk. There was an unmistakable air of menace as he strode around the desk and stopped halfway to Cody.

“Where’s Commander Thorn?” He snapped out. Cody paused for a moment, not having expected such a direct approach. Both other clones noticed him, and stared openly, waiting for his answer. Something wary was in their gazes, as though they expected their own vod to turn on them.

“The Chancellor requested him,” Cody finally replied in an even tone. “He told me to return here.”

“Force,” one of the other clones muttered under his breath. He swiped the data pad to turn in the paperwork before scooping up his helmet and tugging it on. He glanced at Sketch, “Put me on Hound’s patrol,” he said. Cody saw something flash between the two Corries, something unspoken and guarded.

Without further ado, the clone marched past Cody and out into the Coruscant daylight. Sketch took a few reluctant steps backwards to stand beside his desk, not breaking off staring at Cody. The other Guard hastily scribbled something on his data pad.

“That’s it for the prisoner transfers,” he pushed the data pad across the desk. “Put me on-“

“No.” Sketch slammed a hand onto the data pad without looking and dragged it closer. The Guard frowned.

“But I-“

“No.”

He furrowed his brow. “They need-“

“Nooo.” Sketch drew out the syllable long enough to shut up the Guard’s stuttering. He finally broke away from staring at Cody to glower at his brother. “You need sleep. You’ve been on shift for...” he slid back around the desk and glanced over a piece of flimsi, “going on twenty-one hours.”

The Guard crosses his arms petulantly, apparently forgetting Cody’s presence. “But Hound takes longer shifts! So does Fox. And-“

“No!” Sketch snapped, “Don't make me call Keikr.” He threatened, eyes flickering toward Cody meaningfully. Cody frowned under the safety of his helmet, wondering what Keikr had to do with himself. The trooper suddenly deflated.

“Yes sir...” he mumbled. Turning, he dragged out of the room. Sketch scowled at Cody. If Cody didn’t know better, he would think the bookkeeper was trying to decide what to do with him.

He resisted the urge to shift back and forth from foot to foot like a cadet. “Are shifts that long common?” Cody broke the uncomfortable silence that descended on the pair of them. Sketch barked out a harsh laugh.

“Aye for that.” He crossed his arms and leaned against the front of the desk, seeming content to just stare down the Marshal Commander. 

Cody blinked, a little startled by the odd phrasing. He swept his gaze over the odd clone. Barely visible where the sleeve of his blacks was hitching up, a small, blue tattoo peeked out. He had no other visible markings, and his hair was cropped exactly according to military standards. Cody wondered why, since the other vode always littered themselves with identifying marks. It suddenly occurred to him he hadn’t seen a single tattoo since arriving. 

Sketch was studying him with sharp eyes, head tilted as though Cody was a puzzle to be taken apart. It was a rather uncomfortable feeling, Cody decided.

“I've got paperwork,” he said abruptly. The wrinkled creases above Sketch’s eyes smoothed instantly.

“Excellent choice, sir,” he nodded, suddenly sporting a crisp smile. Cody walked past, ignoring the feeling that if he’d tried to do something else, Sketch would have sicced a massif on him. That was ridiculous, right?

He shoved aside the nagging little tone that pointed out the whole Guard was acting weird, and at this point, it wouldn’t be too out of place to find a medic or massif sicced on a Commander. He shuddered away the thought.

It was hours before he set aside the last datapad. With a groan, he rubbed his eyes and stretched. The ancient chair creaked ominously, but held. He winced as something in his back popped.

Five days with the Guard, he mulled.

Nearly a week, and he hadn’t seen hide nor hair of Fox. Which was perfectly normal, his mind hastened to assure him. His batchmate was “severely injured”. He thoughtfully frowned at the wall. He’d asked Keikr for the first three days if he could see Fox, getting a polite, but firm no each time. It had gotten progressively harder to find the medic as time passed, and Cody highly suspected Keikr was hiding from him now. He hadn’t even seen him yesterday.

And then! Cody grimaced just thinking about it. The Guard seemed to be working with the medic, easily absorbing him into their ranks of dizzyingly similar paint and nobody being sure of where, exactly Keikr was when he tried asking. If they kept track of their own medic the same way they kept track of Cody, then everyone would know where he was at all times.

He stretched, arms overhead, and grinned at the wall. 

Perhaps it was time to pay the medbay another visit. He’d headed there several times, but always been waylaid by a Guard, usually about Thorn requesting him. Odd, really, how Thorn always needed something the instant Cody set foot outside the door. It didn’t help that Tally was always a step behind him, though what the quiet Guard’s purpose was in shadowing him, Cody had yet to discern.

He stood up, tucking his helmet under an arm. Perhaps today he’d worm out of someone what exactly was wrong with Fox. The Guard all seemed to have marvelous deflection skills. It was truly uncanny, and exceptionally irritating.

His visage darkened as he considered what had happened earlier. He was definitely hunting down Thorn after his visit to the medbay. Thorn, while the oldest of his own batch, was still younger than Cody; he was a vod’ika, and all little brothers needed protecting. It was disturbing how calmly Thorn had taken the creepy, intrusive senator. Almost as if he’d done it—Cody cut off his thoughts.

No, no. Coruscant was a good job. The Guard was safe. This was where battalions sent their troops who were too injured to stay in the field. Fox’s injury was a fluke. Thorn had probably just froze up in panic, since he wasn’t used to dealing with people wanting to rape him.

Cody refused to consider the alternatives.

Shoving everything to the back of his mind for later introspecting, he paused by the door and listened. He hadn’t seen Tally since returning from the Senate, and he heard nothing outside the door now. 

The hall proved empty as he’d hoped. He turned hasty steps toward the medbay. He hadn’t even reached the first turn in the hallway when a voice called him.

“Commander Cody!”

He froze up, then sighed and swung around to face his ambush. A Guard in full armour stood there, lounging against the wall in an uncaring pose. Cody blinked, knowing there hadn’t been somebody standing there ten seconds ago. 

“Going somewhere, sir?” he drawled. 

Cody hesitated, wondering how he made it sound so much like a threat. “Just for a walk,” he said. The helmet slowly tilted.

“A walk?” He chuckled, “Aye, ‘tis a grand day for a walk.” He agreed. Cody raised an eyebrow. He’d heard that accent before. Apparently, Sketch could flip it on and off like a switch.

“Sketch, right?”

“That’s it, mate.” Sketch shoved off the wall and walked closer. “I’ll come with ye.”

“There’s no need,” Cody hastily assured him, drawing a long stare from the dark visor.

“It wud please me, sir,” he deadpanned. Cody sighed.

“Come along, then.” Why did he feel like throughout the day, his choices were being taken from him, one by one? He was the Marshal Commander, and yet it was almost as if the whole Guard was treating him like glass because of that fact. Did they treat Fox this way?

Cody headed for the medbay purposefully at first, but was interrupted by Sketch on his heels. “Yer lookin’ for the medic, aye mate?”

“Yes, Sketch.” Cody heaved a sigh, and suddenly the feeling hit him that this situation was frighteningly similar to whenever General Kenobi was rushing off somewhere, and he was tagging behind. 

“I saw him in the mess,” Sketch offered, all trace of his accent gone. Cody shot him a suspicious look, but shifted course. Sketch fell back, seeming pleased with his aid.

~

Sketch : “Commander’s on the hunt, boys. Tell Keikr to run!”

Raven sucked in a concerned breath, eyes flicking from his comm to Commander Thorn’s. He could see the other man’s comm blinking as well, probably with the same message. 

“Commander?” He tentatively asked. Just like the last times he tried, Commander Thorn didn’t respond. Raven gently tugged at his elbow, steering him around the corner. Just a little further, and they’d be to the medbay. 

He nearly screamed when Keikr materialized beside him. Just in time, he managed to muffle it to a startled squeak. He’d only turned to briefly glance at the Commander, the medic appearing directly in front of them when he glanced back straight. Keikr shot him an odd look, judging from the tilt of his helmet, before dismissing it.

He grabbed Thorn’s other arm. “Come on, buddy. This was a really bad time, you know.” His tone was low, and Raven found himself involuntarily relaxing at the calming murmur. He jerked himself back to full alertness, remembering they were still in the Senate area. 

They walked in silence save for Keikr’s constant, low chatter as Raven plucked up his courage. As Keikr ended one soft-toned lecture and was about to begin another, Raven blurted out,

“What’s wrong with him? Sir…” He badly amended. Keikr shot him a quick look, and Raven hated for once the helmets obscuring his read on the other clone’s expression. Keikr was notoriously closed with his body language. He began trying to withdraw. “I mean, sir, you don’t need to tell me. If its confidential. Even if its not. I probably shouldn’t know, any-”

“Calm down.” Keikr chuckled. “He’s dissociating.”

“He’s…. What sir?” Raven found himself understanding no further than when he’d first come across the Commander, standing there in parade rest in a random corridor and non-responsive.

“He’s disconnected himself from reality,” Kiekr attempted to explain, “He’s, like, mentally not there. Wandered away somewhere else in his mind. It’s caused by trauma. Whatever he was going through, it was painful enough, physically or mentally, that he flipped on autopilot and shut down everything else.” He scanned him appraisingly, “And I don’t think it was physical trauma, although I’ll need to do more than glance him over in order to rule that out.”

“I see.” Raven did not, in fact, see. He fumbled at the concept, trying to grasp it enough to make sense. He’d seen some of the older vod do something similar, their mind drifting away as a Senator ranted and raved in their face. It was subtle, enough that a non-clone wouldn’t notice, but Raven noticed. It would usually take several minutes of the patrol for the older vod to entirely come back to themselves and talk normally again.

Raven had no idea it could be this bad, though.

~

Cody stepped into the doorway of the mess. He hesitated, visor turning slowly as he scanned the completely silent room. Everywhere he turned, eyes were watching him with carefully blank expressions. They pretended not to, with ducked heads and hastily averted eyes when he looked their way. 

Sketch leaned against the doorway, pleased with himself. He’d herded the Commander away from the medbay, and luck willing, he’d be able to keep him away long enough for Keikr to find a solution to their…. predicament. He shot the concerned vod a double thumbs up and broad grin, despite the latter being hidden by his helmet.

Cody let out a huff, and shifted toward Sketch, who instantly dropped into a mildly more respectful pose. “I thought you said he was in the mess?”

“Was, sir. I saw ‘im. Don’t know where he could’ve possibly gotted to!” he leaned around the Commander, surreptitiously flashing another thumbs up at the watching vod. Cody raised a hand as if to rub his face before recalling he had a helmet. His hand dropped.

“I’m going to the medbay.” He turned on his heel, marching from the room. Sketch waggled his fingers goodbye, getting a few good natured eye rolls from his brothers before spinning to follow the Commander. He skipped ahead to fall in beside the mission-bent man.

“E’s ofen in the barracks at this time, sir,” he volunteered, “Nimmy’s on in the ‘bay, usually.”

“Nimmy?” 

Sketch could hear the raised eyebrow. He smirked, “Nimrod, but that un’s a nickname too good to resist.”

“Indeed…” 

~

Keikr stabbed at the button and the medbay doors slid open with a quiet whoosh. They marched Commander Thorn inside and set him on the nearest bed. Keikr waved a hand in front of the helmet, getting nothing. The few other vod in the medbay who were awake perked up with interest at distraction from boring white walls. There were only two awake; most took advantage of being hurt to sleep as long as possible.

“Were you on patrol when you found him?” Keikr was ruthlessly stripping away the Commander’s upper armour.

“Yes, sir. My partner told me to bring Commander Thorn back here.”

“Who was your partner?”

“Brandy, sir.”

Keikr’s brow eased. “Ah, good. He’s good. Hey, stand outside the medbay, will you? If you see Commander Cody, give me a heads-up, and try to stall him. I heard he’s on the hunt.”

Raven’s eyes widened, “...stall…him..sir?”

“Yes. Off you go.” Keikr made a shooing motion, gently giving the kid a little shove. Raven stumbled out the doors, more from shock than Keikr’s light touch. 

Stall means distract, he knew. He had to distract a Marshal Commander .

“Oh force!” he gulped. He hadn’t signed up for this on Kamino.

~

Cody kept the pace brisk, forcing Sketch to abandon the lazy saunter he’d adopted since beginning to follow Cody. He was exceptionally thankful for his helmet, as he didn’t wish for the Guard to realize he’d finally made him mad.

Mess. Barracks. Storage room. 

Cody didn’t know why he hadn’t caught on sooner. Now, despite Sketch’s delicate hinting that the head medic was likely on patrol--since he obviously wasn’t elsewhere--Cody was going to the medbay. He’d been waylaid a few times before, but Sketch seemed to specialize in politely redirecting a Commander. 

He walked the fine border between insubordination, irresistible charm, and infuriating politeness with ease that could only be envied, despite being the subject of his ploy. Cody couldn’t help but agree with Thorn’s single word assessment. This trooper was indeed…special. Along with some less-flattering words Cody felt like throwing at him, but resisted. Barely.

A flash of red rounded the corner, and Cody slowed his pace just enough to scoot over and let the Guard past. Sketch darted by instead, screeching to a halt in front of Cody. Cody slammed to a stop, glowering at his escort. 

“Have ye seen Keikr?” Sketch asked.

The Guard shook his head slightly, “No, sorry.”

Sketch heaved a sorrowful sigh that Cody almost believed. He was done falling for the tricks, though.

“Dae yi'll waant tae tak' th' jimmy, pal? a'm juist aboot fed up wi' trying tae keep him awa' fae th' meddy.” Sketch’s accent dropped upon him like a blanket, and Cody stared as he attempted to grasp a single word from all that’d been said. 

The other clone stifled a grin, obviously understanding. “No, sorry. I’m getting on shift in two.” He saluted Cody, who automatically nodded acknowledgement, before striding off down the hall. Sketch heaved a sigh.

“Worth a try…” he mumbled, accent inexplicably gone. Cody stared at him for another long moment, wondering what other things he could flip on and off like a switch. His politeness and respect, or lack thereof, for authority, perhaps? 

He turned away, remembering he had more important matters on hand. Visiting Fox with the CMO’s permission, because last time he’d forgone permission, he’d quickly and continually regretted it. He still regretted it, he thought sourly.

Sketch had fallen abnormally silent, trailing behind like an errant waif. 

They rounded the last corner, and before them stood the medbay doors.

Chapter Text

Dark. Cold. Light.

Pain. Cold. Fear. 

Protect protect protect.

Fear. Cold. Rain. Fire. 

Run .

Dark. Run. Fear. Cold. Protect.

Run .

Protect. Stay.

Run .

No. Stay. Protect. Cold. Fear.

LightDarkColdPainFearRun.

Run. Run. Run.

Stay. Protect.

Run.

No.

Run!

No. Prote-

RUN!

~

“Mmm… looks like nobody’s home…” Sketch drawled. Cody drew in a deep breath, trying to ignore both Sketch’s melodramatic words and the Corrie standing in front of the medbay doors, frozen in place like a frightened porg. Without even looking, he knew Sketch was lounging against the wall again. Honestly, it was a wonder most of his paint hadn’t rubbed off onto the walls.

“Guess we oughta go…?” Sketch prompted, abandoning subtly. Cody’s hands suddenly curled into fists. Before he realized what exactly he was doing, he’d rounded on Sketch with a furious snarl. 

Sketch flinched back.

“Do you have any idea what it’s like to have a batchmate here, in the medbay, and not see them? To live day by day knowing that they’re injured, and not even being told how they were injured, what their chances are, or what their injuries are? Do you-” Cody froze.

Sketch had flinched. From him, Cody.

Sketch, the indomitable, swaggering Guard who shoved at Cody’s temper and methodically pushed all his buttons with a fearless smile. Sketch, who smirked in the face of Cody’s reprimands with all the timidity of a mudhorn, had flinched . From a brother. He was afraid . Of a vod.

Cody swung away, rage curling low in his gut. He forced his hands to unclench. Turning, he swept the Guard at the doors with a look. “What’s your name?”

“CT-79-”

“No,” Cody kept his voice gentle, despite the anger roiling beneath the surface, “What’s your name ?”

“...R-raven, sir.”

“Raven,” Cody cocked his head, “I met you at the barracks a few days ago, didn’t I?”

“Yes sir,” the trooper wavered a little before his voice dropped back into that toneless politeness. 

Cody stepped nearer to the door, “I need to talk to the medic.” He couldn’t, not with Raven standing square in front of the medbay doors. He sighed. This would probably take a few minutes, but he couldn’t bring himself to order the young trooper to stand aside. He knew he was young; his voice sounded young, and his stuttering showed a lack of experience to put up a bold front.

The Guard was hiding something, and it was important enough to them for a shiny to face off with a Marshal Commander. Cody was determined to figure it out, but he refused to inspire fear, accidentally or on purpose, in the vode to do it.

~

“Thorn, come on!” Keikr hissed, resisting the urge to give the Commander a little shake. He lowered his voice to something more steady and calming, “I just sent a shiny out to distract the Marshal Commander, so you better straighten up before that shiny melts into a frightened puddle on the floor.” He had heard the sharp explosion of anger from Cody, followed by a lower-volume conversation. 

Thorn blinked, shifting a little. Keikr seized it. “That’s it, Thorn. Come back to me. You’re safe, now, vod. Safe, and we’ll keep you that way. Come on,” he coaxed. Thorn shuddered, suddenly breaking the perfect posture he’d held, even seated on the bed. He slumped into Keikr’s arms, shaking. Keikr tugged him close. Both of them were stripped of their upper armour, Keikr knowing the warmth and contact would help ground his Commander.

“The-the Chancellor!” Thorn gasped out, “He said-”

“Shush…” Keikr muttered, rubbing a hand over Thorn’s back in calming circles. “Just breath. Can you do that for me? In, and out. Remember the exercises?”

Thorn nodded against Keikr’s blacks, struggling to draw in a deep breath. Keikr murmured nonsense and held him close, keeping a wary eye on the door. Just a few more minutes, Raven. Buy us a little time, he begged.

“That’s it, Thorn.” 

The Commander was actually breathing now, but his body still shook as he tried to process whatever had caused him to shut down. “Keikr!” he tried to pull back, but Keikr held him close. “Keikr, he isn’t-”

“No,” Keikr said, “Don’t do this now. Tell me later. Cody is just outside the medbay. You need to pull yourself together enough that I can go chase him off.”

Thorn managed another little nod. He was relaxing, by small increments. Keikr soothed and shushed him, murmuring encouraging words and held him tight. He knew Thorn could do it. He’d seen him do it countless times. Him, Fox, and every other Guard. They fell apart, shaking and crying, lost in nightmares as trauma assaulted their mind. 

Sometimes they sought out Keikr. Sometimes Keikr or another vod found them. Nobody ever found Keikr. When he was on the verge of breaking, Fox came to him with an uncanny ability to sense it, and held him as he fell apart, shattered over the brothers he couldn’t save. 

Then they would pick themselves up. Keikr helped put the pieces back together, and made of a patchwork of broken parts, they sealed themselves with their armor and walked back into the world as if nothing was wrong.

It was just what the Guard did.

~

Cody didn’t actually manage to get past Raven. Between the shiny’s reluctant hedging and Sketch’s impromptu help, they delayed Cody outside the doors until said doors abruptly opened. Keikr stood there, glowering at all three of them. 

“With this commotion, it's lucky any of my patients are able to sleep!” he groused. His eyes flicked to Raven, “You’re dismissed, trooper.”

Sketch waved his arms dramatically, “Return from whence thou came, oh spirit of the netherrealms!”

Raven scuttled past Cody and Sketch, getting a friendly punch from his fellow Guard as he fled down the hallway. Sketch had recovered from being yelled at by the Marshal Commander, and Cody noted with keen interest that Raven didn’t seem put out by Sketch’s obviously violent gesture. Was it just Sketch who was flinchy, or was it because it came from a non-Guard, he wondered.

Keikr rolled his eyes at the theatrics. “How can I help you, Commander Cody?” His tone was clearly polite, yet somehow unfriendly. 

“I’ve come to see Fox.” No point in beating around the bush, he figured. Keikr’s lips pressed into a thin line.

“I’ve told you, sir, that-”

Cody heaved a sigh, “Yes, yes. I know. I could just order you to let me see him. And if that doesn’t work, sneak in here while you’re gone.” He caught a glimpse behind the medic of a Guard who was too red. “Is that Thorn?”

Keikr whipped around, “Commander Thorn?” He had the audacity to sound surprised at finding the Commander in his medbay. Cody snorted.

“I’m fine, Keikr.” Thorn stepped up beside him. Cody noted with pleased interest that they’d quite referring to each other by their numbers around him, seeming to accept they wouldn’t be punished by having names. The Commander was dressed in his full armour, even with his helmet on.

“How did the meeting with the Chancellor go?” Cody inquired, wondering how Thorn had ended up in the medbay in the few hours since he’d been left in the Senate halls. 

Thorn stiffened.

Keikr shifted, knocking their pauldrons together with a soft click that seemed to steady the Commander. His voice was perfectly even when he replied, “Fine, sir.” He didn’t offer any more details, and from the sudden hostility radiating from Sketch, Cody didn’t think it wise to pursue the subject. He still wasn’t sure how the clone managed to give off such clear indications of his moods without any obvious tells.

Cody shifted his attack to Keikr, “How was Fox injured?” He asked, knowing he’d de deflected, but hoping to maybe gain something from asking a Commander and medic at the same time.

Keikr’s expression, if possible, got even darker. “On a classified mission, sir.” He said carefully. 

“I’m a Marshal Commander,” Cody pointed out. “Anything he’s doing, I have clearance to see. We’re the same rank.”

Thorn was not moving. “Yes sir, I know. This was a blackout mission, however. No..nobody knows exactly what happened, sir.”

Cody huffed. “Well, since you’re all so incredibly talkative, I’m going back to my office. I swear the paperwork is the same no matter where you are. It’s never ending.” He spun on his heel, marching away. He’d finished his paperwork, but there was no reason to tell them that. If they wanted to keep secrets, he’d just have to keep a few of his own. He was aware of Sketch trailing behind, but it didn’t impede his ability to send a quick message to Trapper, asking him to come to his office as soon as he was off shift. He flicked an annoyed glance over his shoulder at Sketch again. It was almost as if the Corries were guarding him. First Tally, then Sketch. Didn’t they have anything better to do than follow a Commander around?

~

Trapper appeared at his office that evening, armour still grimy from spending hours in Coruscant’s underbelly. He gratefully collapsed in the chair Cody motioned to. Yanking his helmet off, he dropped it with a loud clunk on Cody’s desk.

“Sir, those Corries are tryin’ to show me up!” he complained. Cody raised an eyebrow, trying to hide the twitch of a grin on his lips. “They think they can run me into the ground just cause I’m not one of them. Call me a ‘frontie’ and keep teasing me about keeping up. Say what you will about them, but they’re damn athletic and fit as any of the 212th. Pencil pushers…ha!” He leaned forward, eyes bright, “Commander, I saw one of those mad bastards leap a twenty-five foot gap in pursuit of an escaping prisoner.”

“I don’t think they’re trying to show you up, Trapper,” Cody sombered. “I have full reason to believe that’s their regular patrols and workload.”

“A fourteen hour patrol shift?” Trapper scoffed, then scowled, obviously thinking over things. Cody let him contemplate in silence. Finally, the scout looked up with obvious reluctance. “I think you’re right, sir. I come on for six hours, and then they pull me off for a break, and when I come back on, the same Corries are still there. At least,” a puzzled expression flashed across his face, “I think they’re the same. They got the same names…”

The two fell silent, considering the implications.

“Hey, Trap?” 

“Yes sir?”

“What was the number of the clone who met us on the landing platform when we arrived? The one in Thorn’s armor.”

“The one in…sir?” Trapper raised an eyebrow as he picked up the odd phrasing of the question. “I think it was CT-something. Had a lot of zeroes, I remember. Something-zero-zero-zero, maybe?”

Cody growled under his breath. “And he introduced himself as Commander Thorn, did he not?”

“Yes sir.” Trapper curiously tilted his head, “Why?”

“Well, today Thorn gave his number to a senator, and it was not the same. For starters, it was a CC number.”

“Oh?” Trapper was clearly intrigued. Cody went over what had happened, skimming lightly over the abuse that the Guard were clearly used to. It made him shudder just considering it. Trapper listened in silence. When Cody finally ran out of words, Trapper shared what else he’d seen of the Corries.

A guard always stood at the barracks, night or day. The troopers were chatty and active until they realized Trapper was among them, at which point they shut down. He said they were beginning to get used to him a little, but were still clearly uncomfortable with his presence. The food was abysmal, the same gray sludge morning, noon, and night. The frontline troopers got good, hot meals unless they were actively participating in a battle or preparation for one. The Coruscant citizens, while not treating the Guard unkindly, certainly didn’t favor them. They tended to err on the side of cold dismissal. Trapper hadn’t ever been put on Senate rounds, so he couldn’t judge for himself any of those interactions, but he’d heard whispers around the barracks, of good and bad, of evil and more evil.

He hesitated a moment, then forged on, “They’re all perfectly identical, sir.”

“Yeah, I know.” Cody rolled his eyes, “Only the Commanders have different armour paint.”

“Not just the armour,” Trapper murmured, and Cody instantly perked up. Trapper continued, “I don’t know if you’ve had a chance, sir, to see a group of Corries together, but they are literally exactly identical. They look the same, they act the same, walk the same, they even kriffin’ talk the same! Even tones with indistinguishable inflections of the voice. I was talkin’ to one, and turned around to answer and question, and when I turned back…” Trapper met Cody’s eyes, distress clear, “sir, I couldn’t tell if it was the same one. You see, there were three standing right there, and the one I thought I’d been talking to suddenly had forgotten what we were discussing. He pulled it together quite quickly, but sir, I realized later that wasn’t the same Corrie .”

Cody frowned. “If a vod can’t tell them apart, there’s no way a natborn could…” he realized slowly. “Something is wrong on Coruscant. Did you personally know any of the Guard? Any batchmates here or anything?”

Trapper shook his head. “Cactus has a batchmate here, though, and sometimes he would complain to me on how little he heard from him. I never knew his name.”

Cody grimaced. “Give me a minute.” He picked up his comm. Trapper heaved a contented sigh, stretching out over the chair in a lazy manner as he waited. Cody quickly created a group chat, excluding Fox.

CC-2224 : When was the last time anyone heard from Fox?

The reply was almost instant from Bly.

CC-5052: Three weeks ago. We just got back from a mission with blackout comms

CC-5052: Why? Is he ok?

CC-2224: You hadn’t heard?

CC-5052: Heard what?

CC-2224: He was injured. I’m on Coruscant, taking over his duties for now

CC-6454: Kriff

CC-5052 has renamed CC-6454 to Lake

Lake: its ponds, you di’kut

Lake has renamed Lake to Ponds. 

Ponds has renamed CC-2224 to Vod’ika.

Vod’ika: Hey!

Ponds: why isnt fox part of the chat

Vod’ika: Because I need answers without him stopping me. @CC-3636, pay attention

CC-3636: What!

CC-3636: I am!

Vod’ika: Something’s wrong on Coruscant, and I haven’t been able to see Fox since I got here

CC-3636: its not much of a concern if you haven’t seen Fox within two hours of being on planet, Cody. That’s nothing new

Vod’ika: I’ve been here five days.

There was a long silence in the chat.

CC-3636: Karking hell

Ponds: language the batch baby is here

CC-5052: Kriff

Vod’ika : Yeah

After a few more minutes of back and forth--during which Trapper fell asleep--Cody was able to determine the last they’d heard anything from Fox was the morning of fourteen days ago, when Fox had checked in with Wollfe concerning the recent campaign his batchmate had been through to ensure he was still alive. He’d claimed to be fine at that time.

But fourteen days.

How had none of them noticed the total lack of comms from Fox for two whole weeks? Cody glanced up at Trapper again, who was lightly snoring. He signed off and muted his comm, leaving his batchmates to argue and quarrel among themselves.

“Trapper.”

Trapper jerked, flying awake at the quiet call. He stared groggily at Cody for a moment before scowling and rubbing his eyes. Cody chuckled.

“You need to clean up and get in a proper bed.”

“Yes sir,” Trapper sullenly gained his feet. He dragged his helmet off the desk and headed for the door, only to pause at Cody’s voice again.

“All their armour is identical, right?” He didn’t have to specify.

Trapper frowned, “Yessir, I think so. Except for the Commanders. I haven’t seen Commander Fox or Commander Stone, but I assume they’re also different. Sergeant Hound has a little variation as well. But, yes, the regular Corries all have the same paint.”

“How hard would it be for you to, say, borrow a set for a while?”

“Sir?” Trapper’s eyes widened. Understanding flashed across his face. “Because they only talk to other Corries…” he breathed. Cody snapped his fingers.

“Right on, Trap. Don’t get caught. I’d hate to have to face off with the Coruscant Commander because he found an imposter in his ranks.”

Trapper clipped his heels together, “Sir yes sir!” He wheeled, vanishing out the door. Cody frowned at the wall again. He was uncovering secrets about the Guard, but why wouldn’t they let him see Fox?

~

Thire had been unable to get off for their impromptu meeting, but Keikr had found Tally. Thorn fidgeted, anxiously pacing back and forth while Keikr quietly filled out paperwork and tried to ignore his Commander’s nerves.

Finally, Tally walked into the medbay, an exhausted Hound in tow. “Commander,” he loosely saluted. Thorn nodded toward him, already settling on the nearest bed. Hound and Tally collapsed on the one opposite. Keikr glanced up from his spot behind the desk, but didn’t move to join them.

“First of all,” Thorn spoke slowly, and everyone looked at him expectantly. Thorn turned to Tally, “What number did you give the Commander when he arrived?” His voice was deceptively calm.

Tally froze. “We, uh, forgot…” he mumbled, ducking his head. He carefully avoided looking toward Keikr, who had frozen, staring down at his datapad. Thorn hadn’t asked--and they hadn’t told--who exactly had reprised the role of Thorn that day. If he didn’t know, he couldn’t be forced to punish anyone if the switch was discovered.

“Whoever was in my armor used his own number, didn’t he?” Thorn growled. Tally’s dejected melting was answer enough. Hound had toppled over on his side, and didn’t appear to be listening to the proceedings anymore. Thorn groaned, gently thumping his head into his hands. “Well, you can thank Fox’s smarty batchmate for catching it. That man wasn’t made Marshal Commander for nothing.” He wearily rubbed his eyes. If possible, he sombered even more.

“I tried to tell Keikr earlier, but he insisted on waiting until you were all here.”

Keikr rose now, moving around the desk and coming to take a seat by Thorn’s side. “Wake Hound up, will you?” 

Tally obligingly kicked the Sergeant. With a startled yelp, Hound came upright while Keikr glared at Tally. “You’re gonna wake the others!” he snarled. Tally looked properly apologetic, and Keikr glanced behind him to ensure his few patients still slept soundly. At last, the little group settled and Keikr prompted Thorn.

“It’s about Fox,” Thorn mumbled, eyes dropping. “The Chancellor was very upset that ‘his’ Commander had not yet returned.”

“It’s not a blackout mission anymore,” Tally breathed, words leaden with grief and fear. Hound’s eyes widened at the implications. Keikr closed his eyes, drawing in a ragged breath.

“We need help,” Hound muttered, words slightly slurred by sleep. “We need t’tell the Marshal Commander.”

“No!” Thorn’s head snapped up. “If Cody knows, he will march out there personally. You know how dangerous it is down there if you don’t know what you’re doing. He’ll get himself killed. You wanna tell Fox that we let his vod’ika get hurt because of him? They’re batchmates, remember?”

Everyone’s eyes drifted away, unable to accept the challenge.

“The boys kept that 212th-ey alive,” Tally pointed out.

“ Kept ?” Keikr whipped around, a dangerous glint in his eyes.

“Keep! Are keeping! Is! He’s fine!” Tally hastily corrected. Keikr relaxed minutely. Hound was listing sideways away. Thorn had his head in his hands. Tally’s armour was streaked with blood and grime, and he sat there blinking off into space. Keikr swept the whole lot.

“All right. We’ll keep the Commander out for now, but I’m not sure how long I can hold him off the medbay. He knows something is wrong by now-”

“Obviously..” Tally grumbled.

“-but we can try and slow him down. If we can somehow get Fox here, and assure Cody he's fine, then Cody’ll leave and quit getting mixed up in this mess. As for now, bed. All of you.” He frowned at Hound, who had toppled over again. 

Thorn staggered to his feet. Tally made to poke at Hound, but at Keikr’s gesture left him. Instead, he and Thorn gathered him up. The Sergeant roused a little at the movement, enough to accept draping an arm over Thorn and shuffling beside him. Thorn picked up their helmets. The three stumbled from the medbay, parting ways. One for the barracks, two for the officers’ quarters. 

Keikr leaned back, collapsing onto the nearest bed. Then, with a frustrated groan, he forced himself back to his feet. He still had those papers to fill out before sending them to Cody for signing. The 212th’s CMO better be grateful that Keikr was letting the Marshal Commander get so much sleep.

Chapter Text

“What are you doing?”

The guilty clone startled so badly he knocked a pile of datapads from the desk, sending them crashing in a wave to the floor. Cody’s eyes flickered from the datapads, to the Guard, and then to the desk. He raised a questioning eyebrow.

The Guard stared at him, poised for flight, but Cody stood in the doorway. He stepped in, purposefully shutting the door behind him. He didn’t miss the catch of breath from the Guard as he set his helmet down on the desk and mildly looked up and down the fully-armoured Corrie. Come to think of it, he’d never seen the Corries with more than just their bucket off. This one still wore his, leaving Cody entirely clueless as to who, exactly, had broken into his office.

Well, Fox’s office, he amended.

The Corrie clutched at the desk behind him like a lifeline, still frozen with his visor trained on Cody. 

“Well, vod?”

The Guard let out a stuttered breath. Cody frowned. The Guard took an aborted step towards the door, his breaths now coming loud enough to be heard outside the helmet. 

“Take off your helmet,” Cody said. “You’ll be able to breath easier.”

He gave a desperate little shake of his head. Barely visible, he was shaking. Cody wasn’t kidding, though. It would be easier to breath without the helmet filters.

“Take it off,” he used his Commander voice, and the clone suddenly quit shaking, reaching up to yank his helmet off and tuck it against his side. Blank eyes stared straight ahead.

“...vod?” Cody had never seen this Guard, at least without his helmet, before. He knew he would recognize the garish scars dancing their way from his temple down his neck, vanishing under his blacks. “Are you ok?” he didn’t like the Corrie’s automatic, machine-like response.

Or the fact he wasn’t breathing.

Cody was entirely unprepared for the Guard to suddenly lurch forward, eyes rolling back. He spit out a curse, clumsily breaking the Guard’s fall and lowering them both to the floor. He slid his hand down, feeling the rapid pulse pounding under his fingers. Tapping his comm, he opened a call to the first Guard Commander on the list.

“ Commander Thorn, ” the crisp voice said.

“Thorn, a Guard just collapsed in my office, and I don’t have the medic’s comm.”

There was a smattering of something that may have been muffled curses, then Thorn’s professional voice returned, “ The medic’s on his way, sir.”

Cody cut the call and glanced over the Guard, wondering what had caused this. His helmet had rolled across the room when he dropped it. Cody eased the Guard flat onto his back and lightly examined him. His face was pale, more than a regular vod who never spent time in the sun. His greaves were suspiciously cracked, a trail of blood slowly leaking from his boot.

Cody reached for the clasps, fully intending to take it off, when the Guard began stirring. 

“..Fox..” he muttered. Cody moved up.

“Vod, can you hear me?” 

The Guard’s eyes flickered open, staring dully at the ceiling. “Fox..” he mumbled again. His eyes focused on Cody slightly. “Tha…that’s the wr-wrong armor…” he struggled out, a frown creasing his face.

Cody shushed him, and moved back to the injury. Blood was now making a little pool under his leg. He began loosening the first piece when the Guard abruptly shifted.

“No, no!” Panic laced his tone. Cody didn’t stop, saying something vaguely soothing as he carefully took off the shin piece. The Guard was full and royally panicking now, and Cody ducked a flailing fist.

Suddenly Keikr was there, stabbing something into his neck. The Guard faltered, then slumped back against the medic.

“Shell stays on outside the barracks or medbay,” Keikr said curtly. 

“Oh.” Cody moved back, letting the medic take over. Keikr did a brief sweep before the Guard started mumbling again.

“What were you doing here, vod?” Keikr asked, tone soft and gentle. He was prodding at the Guard’s shoulder.

Dark eyes rolled toward him as the Guard fought for words, “F-Fox’s… bandages. Bacta,” he gasped out.

Keikr hummed softly, “Yes, Fox keeps bacta and bandages here. But why didn’t you come to me, vod? I’m offended.” His gentle tone betrayed the words. 

“...’fraid,” the Guard whispered. 

“Why?” Keikr lowered his own voice to match the Guard. “Of what, vod? I’d never hurt you.”

“N-not you,” he slurred, the medicine taking a stronger hold, “S-sen-senators.. told..me, they…” he trailed off, eyes slipping shut.

Keikr had completed his preliminary exam. He glanced around, eyes landing on Cody. For a moment, something akin to unease flickered across his face, then it was gone. “Help me,” he spoke in a medic’s tone, one which Cody had no intention of arguing over.

Between him and the medic, they heaved the unconscious Guard to his feet, slung between them and started for the medbay. “What’s his name?” Cody asked.

“Right now?” Keikr snorted, “Di’kut. He shoulda at least commed me. I could have treated him outside the medbay.”

“Why?”

Cody wasn’t expecting the long look Keikr shot him, nor the straight answer he was given. “Most likely, a senator threatened that if he came ‘whining to the medbay’ about his injuries, he’d be decommed. All the Guard know Fox has basic med stuff in his office. Idiot skipped the medbay enough that I made him up a kit with the promise he’d use it if he didn’t come to me.” Keikr kept his gaze studiously ahead as he talked.

Cody felt something cold coiling inside him. He’d gone on the rounds, and seen how at least a few Senators treated the Guard. He hadn’t ever considered it could be this bad. 

The silence hung over them, heavy as the vod between them, until they reached the medbay. Keikr indicted an open bed, and they gently dumped the Guard on it. Cody turned to go, knowing it was in his best interest to stay out of a medic’s way.

“Blizzard.”

Cody halted, glancing back.

“His name,” Keikr made an awkward little gesture, “His name is Blizzard.”

Cody allowed a smile to cross his face. “I’ll be back to see Blizzard when he’s awake.”

~

Trapper’s report was, in short, horrifying.

Cody took deep breaths, head in his hands, while Trapper uncertainly hovered beside him. Perhaps he shouldn’t have dropped the biggest news like that, he reflected.

“Are you sure?” Cody raised his head, wildly desperate eyes bearing into Trapper’s identical ones. He solemnly nodded. Cody’s head dropped.

“I thought he was safe !” he half-snarled, half-sobbed. Trapper helplessly shrugged.

Posing as “Ringer” he’d smuggled himself onto one of the Senate patrols. Ringer himself was in the medbay, due to be released in another day. He’d claimed early release to the partner assigned him, and off they went.

Unfortunately, Ringer’s partner had been patrolling with him every day for nigh a year, and quickly picked up that the vod in Ringer’s armor was not, in fact, Ringer. 

However, due to Trapper’s quick-talking skills, Alec had let him keep the armor, and even allied himself with the 212th member. Trapper had quickly discovered just how much freer the Guard acted without an “outsider”. Fox’s name was on every lip, along with the names of the other three Guards who’d gone with him, Pitch, Sparklight, and Torrance. Alec had refused to answer any direct questions, though, and the Guards’ chattering didn’t give any indication as to where or when their Commander had gone.  

It had been painfully clear, though, that Commander Fox was not in the medbay as Cody had been told.

Once Cody’s recovered sufficient presence of mind, Trapper recounted the day’s patrol. His face darkened as he skimmed over parts. Cody let him, clearly seeing the uneasy shift in his trooper’s eyes. 

“There are some senators…” Trapper shuddered, losing his words. “The Guard need, like, spiked armour. With electro shocks to whoever touches it.”

Cody ground his teeth, pained at what Trapper was insinuating. He, no, everyone, had thought the Guard had it easy. They sent their crippled or wounded here; the ones who couldn’t keep up anymore on the frontlines.

Not three months ago, he’d sent a fresh-faced kid from Kamino to the Guard, because he kept having panic attacks mid-battle. His face drained of color. He’d sent the shiny from one battlefield to another.

Trapper was chewing on his lip. Forcefully, Cody pushed his thoughts aside for later. “Out with it,” he grunted sharply. Trapper shot him a surprised look.

“Well, uh, I’m not sure I should tell you, sir.”

“Then don’t,” Cody snapped.

Trapper deflated, “But you’re a vod. They just haven’t seen it. They’ve got a place, Cody,” he dropped the honorific ‘sir’, leaning forward with his eyes shining. “It’s a wonderful place! A little room, tucked way, way back in the base, accessed through a maze of twisting halls. Blankets, and pillows, and ratty sofas. Everything a hurting clone would need, and then some. There’s a line tapped in the wall that runs directly to the medbay if they need it. They go there after a hard shift, after losing someone, after basically anything that gets through their callouses. Alec took me there himself. He wanted to show me, to share it, even though we didn’t stay. They took their armour off, there, Cody. They felt safe .” Trapper’s eyes were shining with tears by the time he was done, and Cody could only tug him close in a hug as he broke down.

“We’ve done them wrong, Cody,” he cried, “The whole GAR has. They’re suffering, and keeping it quiet so nobody else has to bear their burdens. They’re fighting and dying, while we mocked them for being ‘pencil pushers’!” Trapper wailed in grief, and Cody marveled at his connection to the Guard. He didn’t have a batchmate, or even a friend among their ranks. All he knew was what he’d gleaned in less than a week.

Cody himself refused to consider the implications for what he’d learned, because he did have a batchmate in the Guard, and if what he saw, and more importantly, didn’t see, was all deduced correctly, Fox had been thrown from Kamino One to Kamino Two, with the latter being even more violent and heartbreaking. And his batch had called him soft.

Cody bowed his head, blinking back tears. He had to stay strong. He had to keep Trapper going. He had to support Thorn, and Thire, and Hound. 

And he had to find Fox.

~

Sparklight walked onto the base that evening.

Corries weren’t allowed off base by themselves, so when the door opened to admit a single, stumbling vod, Sketch was instantly alert. He sprang for the door, hitting the close button as the Guard staggered in a little further.

“Mate, where are ye goin’?” Sketch turned, staring puzzled as the Corrie headed down the hall. His steps were slow, fumbling. He caught himself against the wall, letting out a racking cough that shook his whole frame and threatened to send him crashing to the floor.

Sketch bounded over. He wrapped an arm around the Guard’s shoulders, noting the missing pauldron and bloody, blaster-scored breastplate. Then he was thrown off as the Guard startled nearly out of their armour. He scuttled backwards, holding up a hand towards Sketch as though to ward him off.

“No, no please!” He cried out. The sudden movement and words drew another coughing fit, and this time he did collapse, sliding down with his back braced against the whitewashed walls to huddle up in a frightened curl. Bloody streaks painted the wall in his wake.

Sketch tapped the three buttons that sent his location directly to Keikr. He then edged closer, dropping in a crouch before the Guard.

“Hey, vod. Hey. It’s me. I’m a Guard, Sketch. Remember me? You’re safe now. Safe, vod.”

He got nothing but a terrified little gasp, cut short halfway with a flinch as though the clone expected to be punished for the sound. 

Sketch shoved his fury down, deep, deep down. Anger was the last thing needed in a situation such as this. It took less than two minutes for Keikr to come screeching around the corner, medkit in hand. He halted instantly upon laying eyes on the vod huddled before Sketch, and his breath catching was audible in the sudden silence.

“Sparklight…” he breathed, and Sketch jerked toward him in surprise. Then Keikr was there, kneeling and pushing Sketch aside.

“Hey Spark. It’s me, Keikr.” His voice had dropped into that low, soothing tone that had eased fears and brought terrified vod back to themselves. Sketch scooted back, fingers leaping to his comm. The medic’s ability to recognize a fully armored Guard always amazed him, but Keikr had never been wrong.

He shot off a brisk message to Thorn and Thire. Thorn was in his office, he knew. Thire was off shift, probably asleep in the bunks. There was no reason to get Hound all worked up over this while he was still on shift, directing the patrols and trying to keep the Guard together through another shift.

Keikr had talked the vod into giving up his helmet, a huge step in the Guards’ eyes. The helmet was anonymity. Anonymity was safety, and safety was life.

Keikr was touching now, gentle hands probing over Sparklight. His medkit was open, and an empty hypo already lay aside. 

“You need to keep both yellows away!” Keikr hissed toward Sketch, taking a moment when Sparklight was blankly gazing through him. At Sketch’s nod, he turned back to his patient. “Com’on,” Keikr hooked a hand under the dazed Guard’s elbow. “Get up, vod. Let’s get you somewhere more comfortable.” Sparklight struggled getting his feet under him, but between his attempts and Keikr’s sheer will, he achieved an upright status. Keikr gave him a moment to rest, eyes wandering critically over the armour with a medic’s eye.

“Run,” Sparklight whispered, the first words he’d spoken. Keikr paused.

“What?”

“Run,” He repeated, a dazed look in his eyes. 

“No, no, vod.” Keikr leaned forward to embrace him, but stopped at Sparklight’s flinch. “No, vod. You’re safe. You don’t need to run.”

“Na me,” he slurred. His eyes were glassily staring straight through the walls, at something far away. “Comanner Fos. Run.”

“Commander Fox ran?” Sketch edged closer, braving the terrible medic’s glare sent his way.

“Nuh, nuh…” This seemed to get through, and he shook his head, nearly falling over in the process. Keikr steadied him as he endured another fit of coughing, the effort leaving him pale and leaning against the medic. “Na run,” he mumbled. “Run. Would…wouldet run.” He was beginning to shake, and Keikr gently hushed his next attempt to speak. 

“Cold,” he muttered anyway.

“I know,” Keikr said, gingerly tugging him into a shuffling walk, “We’ll get you warm. Come on, vod.” 

Sketch stood in the hallway until they vanished, Sparklight’s quiet muttering sending shudders through him.

“Run..” he whispered, over and over, until they were gone and only echoes of the word hung in the air. Sketch slowly let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. Thorn appeared at the end of the hallway, panic filling his body language.

“Medbay!” Sketch called. The Commander vanished.

Sketch stood there for another long, long minute. Then abruptly, he started. Keikr had asked him to keep the yellow shinies away. He burst into a run, hoping Cody hadn’t escaped his office yet. To his relief, the door was still firmly shut, no sign of the dust he’d trickled there three hours ago having been disturbed. He settled against the wall a short distance away, tilting his head back to feel the cool, solid material behind him.

He knew Trapper was on patrol with Alec, the pair having hit off somehow. Alec had actually requested to be paired with him until Ringer was back on patrol duty, an unheard of thing in the Guard.

Then again, he mused, it wasn’t like they had a lot of their GAR “brothers” wandering around trying to help. Trapper was the first. 

There was a pattering of feet, but Sketch stayed relaxed, recognizing a vod’s footsteps. Tally rounded the corner, evening meal in hand. He blinked at the sight of Sketch.

“I thought this was my job?”

“Sparklight’s back,” Sketch said instead.

Tally nearly dropped his food. He stared, wide-eyed. “What about-”

Sketch shook his head, and Tally wilted a little. “You got this,” he phrased it as a statement, and when Tally mutely nodded, he turned toward the medbay. He was aware of Tally abruptly sitting down in the middle of the hallway, armor rattling at the hard contact.

Sparklight had come home, but he was one of four.

Chapter Text

Cody spent a few hours furiously focusing on paperwork in order to properly cool down before going hunting. He had questions, and he was getting answers.

Trapper had claimed Guard gossip spoke of Fox not in the medbay, but entirely missing. Cody knew from his own troops not to trust the gossip mill, but he would hunt this particular rumor down himself, and uncover any threads of truth.

A Guard stood in the hallway, straightening expectantly at Cody’s appearance. Cody shot him a suspicious look, hating the fact he couldn’t recognize which clone it was.

“Where’s Commander Thorn?” he asked instead. 

The Guard hesitated, obviously. “I am unsure, sir,” he finally said.

Cody huffed in frustration. He could just comm the Commander, but he wanted to actually see him. “You’re Tally, right?” He wildly guessed. The Guard gave a tiny nod. Cody let out a relieved breath. A large group of rowdy Guards suddenly rounded the far corner. Excited chatter easily carried, the word, “Sparklight” bouncing from Guard to Guard. 

They all paused slightly at the sight of a yellow Commander, but then lined up and respectfully passed, saluting him on their way by. Cody watched in bewilderment, automatically responding. There were at least twenty of them, buckets tucked under an arm, some even without their bucket in sight, something Cody had never seen from a Corrie. One obviously limped, and since he was one without his bucket, Cody recognized Raven.

There were at least twenty vod who filed past.

Cody whirled on Tally as soon as the last one vanished around the corner. “What the heck is going on?”

“Sparklight’s back, sir.” Even in full kit, Tally was radiating pleased excitement. He forged on without prompting, obviously too wound up to keep it in, “He was one who went missing with the Commander and the three others. But now he’s back, sir!”

“Good,” Cody said, sincerely, pleased. Tally hummed a happy agreement.

Cody suddenly froze. The words thrummed in his skull, beating understanding into his unwilling mind. Missing with the Commander. Cody had accounted for all the Commanders but one. It was one thing to get it from hearsay from Trapper, another to have a Guard directly, probably accidentally, admit their Marshal Commander was missing.

“Tally...?” He said slowly. The Guard turned, blithely unaware of the enlightenment Cody had abruptly received. 

“Yes sir?”

“ Where is Commander Fox?”

“The...medbay, sir...?” Tally’s frown was evident in his voice, the rest of his body abruptly unreadable. One of his hands slid over, touching his vambrace. Cody suddenly snapped. He lept forward, pinning Tally against the wall with all the lithe grace of a predator on the hunt. There was a startled squeak from the Guard before he went limp, unresisting against his attacker. Cody ripped Tally’s helmet off, drawing a noticeable flinch from the man. He ignored it.

“I’m only going to ask one more time, Tally,” he purposefully omitted the title. “Where. Is. Commander. Fox? Where’s my ori’vod? ”

Tally shifted uneasily, every conflict clear on his face. “Uh, sir....” 

“Let him go, Commander.” The sharp voice causes Cody to whirl toward the sound. Tally gratefully sagged against the wall. Cody snarled soundlessly at Thorn, who merely let out a tired sigh and motioned toward Cody’s office. Cody stalked by, glaring at Thorn on his way past. The Commander turned on heel to follow, shutting the door behind him.

“You want to know where Fox is,” he said blankly. “So would we.”

Cody blinked, letting the words sink in. Thorn stepped past the stunned Commander, rummaging around in the desk until he came up with a bottle and two cups. Mumbling something about needing to be drunk in order to explain, he filled the cups, downed one, and filled it again before setting the bottle on the desk.

“I wasn’t lying when I said he was on a blackout mission,” Thorn sighed. “Or at least, he was when he left. Usually blackout missions are a few hours. The longest was two days, run by Fox, myself, Tally, and a vod who’s marching on now. That mission the first time two Commanders have ever been sent, as well as being the mission directly preceding this most recent one Fox went on. We think they’re connected.”

“And now he’s missing?” Cody’s breath caught. Thorn sunk down in the visitors chair, sipping from the moonshine.

“Yes sir. We’ve nearly doubled patrols, but no sign of any of the missing four until tonight, when Sparklight walked in.”

“Have you cross-referenced data?” Cody took a step forward in spite of himself.

Thorn shook his head and down another glass. Cody hadn’t touched his own cup. “They’re literally blackout missions, Commander,” he said, his tone dangerously blank and even. “They come through Fox. I think he’s been on nearly every single one. Nobody remembers them. You just wake up once you’re back here. Sometimes in the barracks, sometimes out front at the Desk. Most often, in the medbay. You can ask Keikr more. He-he deals with the vod when they come back to themselves.” He tried to steady the sudden trembling in his voice.

“And Fox…” Cody gently prompted. Thorn nodded, trying to ignore the way his hands shook as he poured another glass. Cody walked around the desk, taking a seat in his own chair in case his legs decided to give out.

“He left, uh, two weeks ago. We knew it was a blackout, because he pulled three Guard off patrols, as well as a sniper rifle from the armory. After two days, we started worrying and tried to track his comm, but got nothing. Four days after, Sketch managed to break through the encryption on one of the other Guard’s comms and traced it to a nearby planet, Utrost. We couldn’t do anything, so waited and kept a watch on the ships. We have it on good intelligence that he and two Guard returned to Coruscant, but we lost them on the lower levels somewhere. We started searches, and Thire commed you.”

Cody rolled his eyes, “To help with paperwork . Kriffin’ paperwork!”

Thorn shakily nodded, “Tally and I couldn’t keep up with it all. I didn’t mean for Thire to comm you. We knew Fox took a lot, but we never realized how it would stack up with him and one other Commander not doing their work.”

“Another Commander not doing their work?” Cody frowned.

“Oh, right. You haven’t seen much of Thire or Hound because they’re coordinating the search, and covering each other’s shifts so one can always be in the field with the shinies. That means either one or the other is neglecting their paperwork. You haven’t seen much of me, because I’ve been stuck in my office from dawn to dusk doing kriffin’ paperwork for all four of us. Tally and Keikr have been pulling my shifts when they could, and Keikr fills out forms to save you time. The more simple paperwork I can pass to Tally. All the vod here are stretched thin. Being a Corrie is punishing, and adding in extra patrols to search for a missing squad just makes everything harder.”

Somewhere in the conversation, the door had slid open to admit Keikr. He glanced hesitantly between Thorn and Cody. Cody scowled at him, still put-out at the Guard grand-scale deceit. Thorn pointedly avoided Keikr’s gaze, slowly swishing the moonshine in the bottom of his cup in circles.

“Am I reading this right?”

Thorn grunted something that could either be negative or positive. Keikr took it positive. “Well then, sirs. I’ve come to tell you Sparklight is stable and will pull through. I won’t cover all his injuries, but I will say they are quite extensive and I was forced to sedate him because he kept panicking.”

Thorn mumbled again.

Cody sighed in relief, “Good. That’s good.” He didn’t even know the Guard, but he was pleased no brother would die today.

“Anymore questions?” Keikr asked. He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall by the door, shaking his head when Thorn tried to offer him some moonshine.

“The guard...” Cody breathed, almost not wanting to know. 

Keikr raised an eyebrow. “There’s a lot of them. You’ll have to be more specific.”

“The barrack’s guard. Why do you keep watch over your own barracks?”

Thorn let out a short, humorless laugh. He reached for the bottle, his glass empty again. “That’s because sometimes nosy Senators wander where they shouldn’t. You’ve seen how empty the base is usually, all the Guard out pulling shifts, in the medbay, or asleep in the barracks. The last thing a traumatized vod needs is to waken with a Senator leaning over them shouting.”

Cody didn’t reply, his mind leaping ahead. He felt scrambled as everything began crashing down at once. How much did he not know? How much had he ignored, because it was easier than facing the idea that the Guard were alone, incredibly alone, in a hell that the rest of the GAR was fighting to preserve.

Where was his ori’vod? How had he missed the fact he wasn’t on the base? Wasn’t safe?

Cody was shaking. “It wasn’t you who met me at the landing platform that day, was it? It was another Guard in your armour? The numbers. They didn’t match.”

Thorn winced. “Ah, yeah. I was, uh, kinda unconscious. They never actually admitted to me who it was, but I think it was Keikr or Tally.” He scowled. 

“Tally was there,” Keikr admitted, looking entirely not guilty. Their voices faded to muffled mutterings as Thorn chastised his medic, probably not for the first time. Keikr responded in kind. Cody gazed blankly past them, mind struggling to grapple with everything he’d learned. The tendrils of calm he’d been trying to keep ahold of melted away as he took half a moment to consider the full implications of Thorn’s explanation, and the jigsaw pieces falling in around the words.

Fox was missing.

Blackout missions.

The Guard were afraid of Senators.

The Guard didn’t trust their own brothers.

Fox was missing.

The Guard had been abandoned, dropped in a pool without being told how to swim.

Fox was missing.

Fox was missing.

He’d been gone for two weeks.

Cody hadn’t even noticed .

Something tapped his knee. Muffled, faint voices echoed, distracting him slightly from his train of thought. Gray blurred the edges of his vision. There was a dull pinch in his neck. Everything harkened back to reality, but his mind fruitlessly reached for something else. 

Someone else.

Fox . 

But he was gone. Maybe even dead. Nobody knew.

Something warm shoved against his side, the grounding effect immediate as he suddenly became aware of his gasping breaths. A calm, low voice was murmuring, and he seized it as a lifeline. 

“-with me. Come on, Cody. Deep breaths. If you pass out on me, I swear I’ll punt you out the airlock myself. Udesii, vod. ” The voice continued in the same calming tone.

“We don’t have an airlock!” Another voice hissed from behind him.

“Shut up, Thorn,” the first one sing-songed. “Looks to me like threats work. Whaddya know, batchmates are alike. That’s it, Cody. Keep breathing. Match me,” he wrapped gentle hands around Cody’s wrists, guiding the Commander’s hands against his chest. Cody focused, grounding himself with the steady, deep breaths he could feel from the medic. He wasn’t sure how long passed until he was aware that his breaths weren’t coming in ragged gasps anymore.

“That’s it...” Keikr murmured. “Can you tell me where you are?”

Cody blinked, struggling to keep his mind from falling back into panic. “C-Coruscant.”

“That’s pretty general, vod. What room are you in?”

Cody’s eyes flickered, darting around briefly before he recognized it. “Office. My-Fox’s office.”

“Better,” Keikr hummed, “What are you on?”

“Ah, a couch?” Cody ventured. It was soft. He’d been in his chair last he remembered. How had he got to the couch? 

He abruptly became aware of the warm heat of Thorn pressed against his back, arms wrapped around him in a safe embrace. His upper armor was gone, as was Thorn’s. He flinched, hard. The arms allowed the movements, then tugged him back again.

“Take it easy,” Keikr smiled, “You might be a Marshal Commander, but you’re still a vod’ika, and Thorn’s still an ori’vod. Relax, and for kriff’s sake, don’t stop breathing!”

Cody gasped, not having realized he’d quit breathing entirely. He cautiously allowed himself to relax into Thorn’s warm embrace. Thorn pressed against him a little harder, resting his forehead against the back of Cody’s neck. Keikr rocked back on his heels, a pleased expression on his face. 

“Good, vod. Guess we gave you a little too much info, huh?”

Cody shakily managed a nod. “Fox’s missi-”

“And we’re going to find him. Don’t stress.”

“S’my fault,” Cody had to make him understand. “Coruscant, the Guard, the-”

“Cody, vod, no.” Keikr’s tone was gentle, as to a fragile cadet. Perhaps that was what he was now. “Fox protected us. He has always made decisions based on how to best protect his brothers. He didn’t tell you. He didn’t want to drag you all into this mess. It is not your fault.”

Cody paused his thought process. He’d had a complete meltdown in front of another Commander and their medic. They’d had to deal with him. He tried pushing against Thorn’s arms again, but the Commander merely hugged him tighter. It was… oddly comforting. “I’m sorry,” he rasped, eyes dropping. “I-I didn’t mean to lose control.”

Keikr’s eyes went over his shoulder, to Thorn. “It’s fine,” he said, “Fox gets episodes, so we all learned to take care of it. Thorn does sometimes. Hell, every Guard on base has gotten at least one panic attack.”

But Cody was off again. His ori’vod suffered from this regularly, and he hadn’t even known ? How had Fox hidden this? He commed his batchmate regularly! Fox always said he was fine! He-

“Hey!” Keikr snapped his fingers under Cody’s nose. He flinched. Keikr nodded approvingly. “Stay with us.”

“Sorry,” Cody mumbled. As the panic melted away, he felt exhaustion creeping through every limb. There was still more that needed done, however. He sat up straight as he could without disturbing Thorn’s embrace, although the latter had already proved he was not easily persuaded into letting go. Cody drew a deep breath, settling himself. “So how can I help?”

Thorn let out a startled “what?”, and promptly tried to badly disguise it as a cough. Keikr raised an unimpressed eyebrow at him.

“That sounded ridiculous,” he smirked.

“Help?” Thorn finally spluttered out.

“I want to help,” Cody said firmly. Kriff, he was tired. It felt like he’d run a full mission by himself. The panic had drained away fully; he was too tired to even think about it, but he needed to figure this out.

“You can’t help,” Thorn said.

Keikr frowned, “I think he could.”

“And what if is he asleep?”

Keikr suddenly patted Cody’s cheek as if he was a baby, and he realized his eyes had closed. He opened them and scowled at the medic. It abruptly registered that he’d missed a section of the argument.

“Not quite, but well on the way there,” Keikr laughed. “Looks like I gave you too much. Let’s pick this discussion up later, yeah?”

Cody blearily nodded. Perhaps it would be a good idea. He didn’t quite understand what Keikr meant by ‘gave you too much’ but didn’t try to parse it out. It could wait. He was faintly aware he was tipping, and somebody let out a soft laugh. Their words were faint, and echoey.

“Gave him too much, indeed. You knocked him clean off his feet.”

“How was I supposed to remember he hasn’t built up immunity like the rest of you di’kuts? I wasn't gonna let him pass out from hyperventilation.”

"So you drugged him instead...."

"It was a mild sedative!"

He was on his side, then. Something warm curled against his back, draping a comforting weight over his side and thigh. Voices kept talking, but he couldn’t understand the words anymore. Something tugged at his feet. The warmth against his back rumbled, the feeling agonizingly familiar and comforting.

Things weren’t good, by any long shot, but they were certainly beginning to look up.

Chapter Text

Against the Guard medic’s wishes, Cody volunteered himself for a shift the next morning. He’d woken tangled with Thorn, feeling surprisingly refreshed despite the little couch the pair had shared. Clones were accustomed to fitting together into small areas. 

The chrono read a few minutes before 0’500, and he could hear the tramp of feet outside as the first day shift tramped by. Keikr had magically appeared in his office only minutes after he’d woken, took one look at the still-sleeping Thorn, and ushered Cody out the door.

“Let him sleep,” he’d said, “He needs it. I think Tally can cover his shift, and I’ll get the paperwork.” 

That was more information than Cody was used to, and he felt a rush of gratefulness that the Guard had trusted him enough to talk. 

“Let me take the shift,” he’d argued back. It had taken a few minutes of back and forth, but Keikr finally relented, but insisted an experienced Guard went with him. It had been a challenge to gather up his armour without letting it clank together, but whoever had stripped him of it--Keikr, most likely--had considerately stacked it all together in his breastplate, setting the boots to one side. Thorn hadn’t even stirred when he dropped a boot, the loud thump echoing in the small office. Cody had crept out wondering how long, exactly, it had been since the Commander had actually slept.

Now, he stood at loose parade rest, waiting. He was a few minutes early, he knew. Keikr would have his head if he tried to start the patrol without his partner, however. Somehow, medics always found out. When three Corries walked by, one split off toward him.

“Sir,” he saluted. Cody glanced over, not even knowing why he did it anymore. It wasn’t like they were any different from each other. “I was assigned to patrol with you.”

“Lovely…” Cody hesitated.

“CT-5-” the Guard abruptly cut off the well-scripted reply, critically eyeing Cody, even through both their helmets. “Brandy.” He finally said. “Sketch said to watch your six.”

Cody smiled, making sure the warmth could be heard in his voice, “Thank you, Brandy.” He said, and they both knew he was thanking him for more than watching his back. Brandy led the way, knowing the patrol route better than Cody’s brief glance over the map had allowed him to.

Cody bit back his scathing comments as the two of them stood aside for a gaggle of senators and aids to flow past, the derogatory remarks flung their way hurting no less than being ignored as though they were red posts. One aid even swerved a little, roughly shoulder-checking Brandy. At the grimace that flashed over his face, Cody guessed he found the armored clone a little stouter than he’d expected.

Cody resisted the urge to say something flippant. Instead, he clicked on in-helmet comms, just in time to catch the ending of an extremely scathing remark from Brandy.

“I agree, trooper,” he said, a smile in his tone. 

“Sir!” Brandy squeaked, coming to even straighter attention, if that was possible.

“At ease. I was tempted to repeat something similar to that out loud.”

“Please don’t, sir.” Brandy had recovered his even tone. They turned, stepping out as the last of the entourage trailed past. “It could get someone decommed.”

Cody’s heart seized up briefly, then continued beating. “Decommed?” he tried for as casual as possible. “Decommissioned?”

“Yes sir,” came the clipped response. Cody sucked up a sharp breath, letting it out in slow increments as they walked. On Kamino, they knew they could be decommissioned if they were “defective” or injured too badly. However, the threat had faded once they were away from Kamino. Despite being told the Jedi would decommission them if they were out of line, Cody hadn’t even gotten a whiff of the practice outside of shinies straight off Kamino.

Kenobi hadn’t addressed it, and as the war dragged on, Cody realized he never would. He fought for his men, and in turn gained their unwavering loyalty. According to Ponds, Bly, and Wolffe, their Jedi were equally compassionate. 

But Fox didn’t have a Jedi. The Coruscant Guard didn’t have a Jedi.

Cody drew in another deep breath to keep himself from swiping an expensive-looking vase onto the floor. Brandy’s emotionless visor flickered toward him briefly before focusing on the crowded hall. They’d been running into more people, carefully stepping aside as the senators bustled by. Aides ducked in and out of the chaos, racing to the bidding of their masters.

With the casual air Brandy had mentioned it, decommissioning appeared sickeningly familiar. They covered three more halls before Cody finally felt enough in control to inquire further into the matter. He clicked the in-helmet comms back on, wondering when he’d turned it off.

“Decommissioning, Brandy,” he said sternly. “How often does it happen?”

Brandy edged to walk a little further from Cody, as if that could save him. “Uh, maybe twice a month, sir?”

Twice a month. If that had been happening since the beginning of the Coruscant Guard, two and a half years ago, that was thirty months. 

Sixty vod.

He lost more than that in battles, usually, but this wasn't a battlefield. It was home base. This was willful murder of someone who had probably done nothing besides being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

“And reconditioned?” Cody gritted his teeth, forcing himself to ask.

He heard Brandy’s pained inhale through the comms. It was a long moment before the Guard answered. “Between four to six Guards a month are slated for reconditioning.” His voice was automatic, as if reading off a casualty report of brothers went to be mindwiped was an everyday occurrence.

“Sithspit,” Cody spat. “Wait, slated for?”

Brandy slanted him a sideways look. “Dragon says you know.” It was a question. How the heck Dragon knew, Cody couldn’t begin to guess. He wasn’t even entirely sure which trooper that was, and the fact sat uncomfortably with him.

Instead, he dipped his head in acknowledgement. “Thorn and Keikr told me a lot, but we had to cut short when I…ah, kinda had a panic attack.” 

“No shame in that, sir.” Brandy almost sounded as though he was… smiling? He forged on, “Our armor is identical, sir. We also lose vod in the field, and Keikr smudges the records so it appears they are still alive. We currently have five men on the patrol schedule who do not exist.”

Cody blinked. That was certainly not what he’d expected. Brandy paused to peek into a large, open room, scanning it for trouble. Seeming satisfied, he moved on and continued. “Those men on patrol give their numbers up, to be taken by another. When a vod is slated for a trip to Kamino, Commander Fox can slide some records around. The vod is reported KIA before being able to make it on the next transport to Kamino. His number is wiped and placed on the deadman’s list.”

Cody can’t breath. “Is that-have you-” he tried. Brandy took pity on him.

“I wasn’t decanted with three sevens in my name, sir,” he deadpanned. “The vod before was called Heaven Brandy Seven. We shortened it to any one of the three names, usually. Called him ridiculous for hogging three names. I was a shiny, and had just picked my name when I was given his number. I changed it to honor him.” Brandy’s voice had lowered until Cody turned up the volume in his helmet to hear the story. “Now, I try to protect the rest of the shinies, ‘cause Heaven’s still with me like I’m a shiny myself, protecting me through his number. Not even death can stop the Guard from protecting their own.”

Cody shuddered. “Thank you for sharing, Brandy. I…I’m sure he would be proud of you.”

They continued their patrol in silence for a while. Finally, Cody picked another, lighter subject. In the eight hours, they covered a huge range of topics, and Brandy gradually relaxed until he was laughing at Cody’s dry humor and firing back without hesitation. 

All their in-helmet chatter ceased the instant a door shot open right in front of them. A senator stepped into the hall, glancing up and down briefly. He wore an anxious, fretty expression, one Cody was familiar with from watching his own brothers. His gaze landed on the pair, and his eyes lit up.

“You! Red clone! Come ‘ere.”

To his credit, Brandy never even hesitated. He marched up, halting in front of the man and falling into attention. Cody hung back, curious eyes burning with distrust. The senator flicked a wary look over, but the startling difference between Cody and the familiar Guard was obviously telling. 

“Keep goin’, yellah,” he grunted. Then he seized Brandy’s wrist and yanked the Guard into his suite. Cody startled, but by the time he’d taken a step, the door had slid shut behind the two. He blinked. Pushing aside the uneasy feeling, he settled into parade rest by the door.

Later, he would kick himself for not marching straight in behind them, but in the present moment, he was still a shiny in the ways of the senators and Guard. However, his mind kept returning to the senator’s face.

Whenever a vod looked like that, Cody either sent or took them to the training room to work off some steam. Physically, they were fine. It was their emotions that hit a peak and had nowhere to go in the between-battle transits. His eyes narrowed thoughtfully.

Abruptly, he turned and rapped loudly on the door. When there was no answer, he banged on it again. This time there was a yell from inside. Cody hit the open button, but the door stayed locked. He growled in frustration.

Then the door slid open.

The senator, looking far more harried and exceptionally more annoyed, didn’t even try to hide his anger when he realized who was at the door.

“Get lost before I decommission you,” he snarled.

“I would like my partner so I can continue my rounds, sir.” Cody dredged up every bit of Kenobi’s influence he could find, and held onto his temper with both hands.

A briefly shocked expression shot across the senator’s face. “You-you what?” he gaped at the absurdity. “Take off your helmet, clone!”

Cody obliged, catching the hand that flew to slap his face. He let his smile sharpen until it was all teeth. Wolffe could do it better, but judging from the senator’s shrinking expression, Cody wasn’t too bad.

“Who are you to defy my authority?” the senator blustered. Cody dropped his wrist. 

Oh well. Might as well trot out the big guns, he figured. He could count on one hand the amount of times he rattled off his full title, and prayed he could still do it without stuttering.

“I am Marshal Commander Cody, CC-2224, of the 7th Sky Corps, also direct Commander of the 212th Attack Battalion.” Cody stood at perfect parade rest, his tone ice as he spoke. “I am not cowed by your threats because I am not one of the Guard. I cannot be decommissioned, per High General Windu’s orders.” Cody crossed his fingers behind his back.  “There is nothing you can do to me.” He gave the smile that was just on the edge of feral again, and the senator edged a step back, exposing the room a bit.

Brandy was back there, helmet off. His face was flushed, and not in a good way. He was on the ground, sitting up to awkwardly lean against the couch. Frightened eyes darted from Cody to the senator and back.

“I would like my partner so I can continue my rounds, sir,” Cody repeated.

The senator glanced behind his shoulder at Brandy. His courage was leaving him, rapidly. Cody stepped into the room toward Brandy, and that roused the man.

“Your superior will hear of this,” he snarled, “You will be decommissioned, clone!”

Cody’s helmet tilted just enough to seem unconcerned. “High Jedi General Obi-Wan Kenobi is my direct superior,” he made sure to stress ‘High Jedi General’ in his Jedi’s title. “It is more likely I will tell him of this incident in person before I send him the paperwork to sign. And I assure you, once he sees that paperwork, you will be unable to hide anywhere.”

The man blinked. “What paperwork?”

“Why, I thought you knew,” Cody’s tone was cool, “The paperwork requesting you to be removed as a senator, and placed under arrest for assault and battery of a ranking member of the Grand Army of the Republic.”

“W-what?” he spluttered in shock. 

Cody was already moving, however. He looped an arm under Brandy’s elbow, heaving him to his feet. At the same time, he subtly kicked a foot back out from under him. Brandy flailed, staggering and lurching awkwardly against Cody. 

“You better hope he recovers,” Cody darkly informed the senator, half-carrying half-dragging Brandy. The next instant, they were out and the senator’s doors slid shut behind them. Cody’s hold immediately loosened, and he actually steadied Brandy instead of yanking him off balance.

“Sorry,” he murmured, pulling back. Brandy stumbled, and Cody’s hand shot out to steady him again. “Come on. Let’s get you back to the medbay.”

“No-no need,” Brandy stuttered. “I’m just a little… surprised.”

Cody raised an eyebrow, unseen behind the helmet. “I didn’t know surprise could bleed,” he observed dryly, pointedly looking down at the red streak on the other clone’s armor. It seems blood red paint had a purpose after all, but it sickened Cody to consider it further.

Brandy choked out a laugh. “No, uh, yes sir. I didn’t realize either.”

Cody huffed. “Come on.”

“Sir, he’ll..” Brandy faltered.

Cody softened, “My Jedi General is a good one. He won’t let anything happen to me,” he soothed. At the same time, he drew a deep prayer that he was right. Kenobi might not wish anything to happen, but even High Generals sometimes had things taken out of their control.

At Brandy’s insistence, they finished the rounds before making their way back to the Guard headquarters. Cody saw his partner to the medbay, then turned his steps toward Fox’s little office. If anyone heard him grumbling about paperwork on his way, he would deny it forever.

Marshal Commanders didn’t grumble . Thorn, as expected, was gone from the couch. Not a trace of their talk remained, save for a mostly-empty bottle of moonshine sitting near the desk. Cody tucked it into a lower drawer, heaving a sigh as he scanned the various datapads. A few hours later, he was relieved by the chiming of his comm. He stretched luxuriously, groaning at the aches of his body, before picking it up. 

Thorn : Go down to the front desk

He hadn’t seen Thorn all day, and it was now late afternoon. Cody glanced over the rest of his work. There wasn’t much left. If he focused, well, he could get in a talk with Trapper before hitting the bunks.

Cody : Why? I’m busy

There was no answer. He set the comm down, picking up the nearest datapad. Supply requisition. Interesting. He hadn’t seen a request for supplies yet. He skimmed the details, noting with a sinking heart the little amount they were asking for. They were probably frightened to ask for more, he reflected. He confirmed the request, signing it with a savage flourish. Anyone who disliked that, would have to come personally talk to him.

His comm chimed. Cody glanced down casually, then froze. 

Thorn: “We found Fox.”

Chapter Text

Cody nearly ran over a Guard in his rush to get to the front desk. He called back an apology, hearing a startled squeak from whoever it had been. He skidded around the corner and nearly smacked face first into another Guard, racing in the opposite direction. 

He veered aside last second, although both stumbled from the impact of their pauldrons slamming together. Evidently, the Guard was in as much of a hurry as he was, for there wasn’t even a called apology as he fled.

A terrifyingly familiar figure was at the end of the hall, being supported between two fully-kitted Corries.

“Fox!” Cody called without thinking.

The middle Guard’s head snapped up, staring toward Cody. His two supports staggered a little and tightened their grip as Fox suddenly jerked forward. Cody rushed toward them, slowing to a stop when Fox flinched. He hesitated, eyes sweeping his batchmate.

Blood crusted the side of Fox’s face, an old wound still sluggishly bleeding from above his temple. A blaster hole pierced his breastplate. The hole was frighteningly close to his heart. He was obviously bearing no weight on one leg, entirely missing one of his greaves on the same side. Protectively cradled against his chest was an arm with a shattered vambrace. His helmet, held by one of the supporting Guards, sported a long crack across the visor, and a large chip missing from one side.

More chilling than all of it was the blank, glassed look in his eyes. It cleared a little at Cody’s entrance, but he was obviously struggling to focus.

“Fox, Fox’ika. Ori’vod.”

Fox looked rightly confused at the mix-up of names. First calling him little Fox, then older brother. Cody couldn’t find it in himself to care. He brushed gentle fingers across his batchmate’s cheek, feeling the cold radiating from Fox’s armour even with the distance between them. He tried to blink away the tears in his eyes, cupping a hand behind Fox’s neck to pull their foreheads together. 

Fox’s skin was like ice. Cody tightened his grip, wanting, no needing, to warm him up.

“Kote…” Fox mumbled, leaning into the touch. Abruptly, he pulled back. Cody let him, sensing he needed to be in control. “M’sorry. I lost the shinies.” Fox’s eyes dropped.

“No, Fox. Sparklight’s here. You did good. You’ve come home,” Cody breathed. He pushed back a stray curl, a little longer than regulation length. Fox stayed silent a long, long moment.

“No…” he finally whispered.

“Scoot!” Keikr enforced his command by physically shoving the Marshal Commander of the 212th out of his way. He paused, eyes sweeping over his own Marshal Commander.

“Fox..” For a moment, he seemed overcome by the need to throw himself at Fox in a hug. Then he recovered. “Fox, you are not getting away from me this time.”

“Wasn’t gonna try,” Fox weakly chuckled. He shook his head a little, then hissed in pain. Keikr was running the scanner over him, armor and everything. He hummed softly to himself, double checking a few parts with a second scan. Fox was listing sideways a little more by the time Keikr finished.

“You have-” Keikr cut himself off from rattling out a list of ailments and injuries. “Doesn’t matter. You’re hurt.” He flicked his gaze back to Fox’s face, frowning as he noted the distant look in his Commander’s eyes. He waved a hand in front of his eyes, muttering to himself. Cody edged closer, trying to understand the medical jargon.

“-and not tracking. Unfocused, appears dazed. Probably-” he suddenly leaned closer to peer into Fox’s murky eyes. “-no, definitely concussed.”

One of the Guard glanced over at the other. “I’m taking more weight,” he told Keikr. The medic scowled. 

“Get him to the medbay before he collapses entirely.”

“Fox..” Cody faltered.

Fox snapped back at that, his wavering gaze settling on Cody. “‘...Kote,” Fox muttered, his voice breaking a little. “Kot’ika.” He coughed, stumbling sideways as his body shook. Sketch swore, staggering a little under the sudden extra weight of his commander. Cody lept forward, sliding an arm under Fox’s nearest shoulder, and usurping the position of the Guard. Fox was leaning heavily against Sketch, who’d steadied under the weight. Fox’s eyes were glazed and unseeing. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth.

It hadn’t been there before he coughed.

Keikr spat out a string of curses. “Get him to the medbay, now!” He raised his comm, barking orders at the hapless Guard at the other end. Probably Nimrod, Cody reflected. He shifted to get more weight as he and Sketch started down the hall. Fox was mumbling incoherently, head hanging. He coughed again, more gently this time, but blood started dripping from his lips.

Cody glanced down, heart sinking even further at the sight. “Fox, stay with me!” He commanded, the order sharp. Fox may have stirred a little at that, but Cody couldn’t be sure. Keikr raced past them, headed for the medbay. Sketch and Cody were as good as carrying Fox now, his weight shifted mostly toward Cody. With most of his armor on, he should have been quite heavy. 

Then why was he so light?

Fox had always run a bit toward the slender side, Cody knew. But not this slim.

Fox suddenly tensed in their grip, stiffening. Sketch and Cody both looked at him, and Cody was sure the concern on his face was mirrored behind Sketch’s helmet. Neither had a moment to react before Fox started flailing.

“Down! Put him down!” Keikr yelled, suddenly by their side again. He dropped with Fox, cradling his Commander’s head to keep it from hitting something. His voice was low, snapping orders into his comm. Fox’s shaking was easing, his eyes fluttering as he gently rocked his head in Keikr’s lap. 

“-and bring me some propoful.” 

“Yessir,” Nimrod’s crisp reply sounded from the Keikr’s wrist comm. The medic glanced up at Cody and Sketch briefly, then a movement drew his eye back down. Fox’s hand was reaching for his blaster. 

“Get that away from him!” Keikr snarled, unable to reach it from his position. Cody pounced, snatching the blaster and wrenching it from Fox’s grip. Sketch was standing back, seeming frozen. Keikr took one look and swore. “Get him out of here!”

Cody hesitated. That would involve leaving Fox.

“His batchmate died in a seizure!” Keikr growled, “Get him out of here !” The forceful volume and tone propelled Cody. He grabbed Sketch’s shoulders, dragging him away when the Guard didn’t respond, frozen in terror as he stared at his Commander. 

They ran into Thorn at the corner. Cody someone met his eyes through the dark visor, and they stared at each other for a  moment. Then Thorn’s gaze dropped, and he wrapped Sketch up in a tight hug. He might not have known what happened, but he obviously recognized a distraught vod. He glanced in concern toward Cody.

“How is he?” he mouthed. Cody shoved down the image of Fox, lying on the ground and shaking, and instead merely shook his head at Thorn and wheeled back toward the medic and his batchmate.

Fox was still twitching from another short seizure. Keikr was muttering savagely as Cody skidded to a halt. He’d rolled Fox on his side, keeping him there by jamming a knee against his back and cupping his hands under his head. Bloody froth lined Fox’s lips, and his breath came in jerky, rattling gasps. His eyes were glazed, staring ahead without seeing anything. His fingers twitched a little, but otherwise he was frighteningly motionless.

“He’s dying, isn’t he.” Cody crouched, not looking at Keikr. He’d seen vod die, gut-shot, exploded, and hacked in half. He’d seen them die in more ways than he cared to consider. He’d held their hands as they drew their last breaths.

Cody knew what a dying man looked like.

When Keikr didn’t respond, he finally dared glance up. The medic was staring down, an almost dazed expression on his eyes. With startling speed, he jerked back into focus.

“Not on my watch, he isn’t!” 

Nimrod was there, then, sliding to a stop and nearly throwing a hypo at Keikr. It was quickly depressed into Fox’s neck, then Keikr scooped him up. Cody ducked to help, and together they got to the medbay. Fox hung entirely limp between them, not even attempting to shuffle a little as he had before.

Nimrod had set up an area, already. Keikr began barking out orders in medical so fast that Cody was left standing, bewildered, clutching his batchmate in the midst of a hurricane. Fox’s eyes fluttered up, staring at the ceiling. Cody leaned over.

“Fox. Fox, can you hear me? If you die on me, ori’vod, I will hunt you down and bring you back myself.” He couldn’t help the little crack in his voice. Fox’s eyes suddenly shifted, focusing, truly focusing, on Cody. His eyes were clear, but wracked with pain and another emotion Cody couldn’t quite pin down.

“Cody,” Fox whispered, more blood flickering over his lips. “Kote. Help me, please.” He begged, each word dripping with the promise of death and blood, but interwoven with an inescapable tinge of hope. “Please, Kote.”

“I will,” Cody whispered, a hand stroking Fox’s curls back from his forehead. “I will do anything for you, Fox. You know that.” He wished he could sweep the pain away, take it from his batchmate and give him the rest he truly deserved.

The dark, chocolate smooth color of Fox’s eyes drew him. They were a swirling vortex of dark and light. Cody felt something touch his mind that was not his, the edges of the world going blurry. He staggered a step.

Kote, help me. Please.

The cry echoed in his ears, a call for help so faint he would have missed it had he not been crashing into the darkness, straight toward it.

~

“Are you-KRIFFIN’ HELLS!” Keikr yelped as Cody suddenly collapsed against him. Hands full of medical supplies, he had nothing left to catch the Commander with. Nimrod pounced forward with lightning agility, breaking Cody’s fall. Keikr stared down for a moment, blinking in shock. Then he shook his head and spun away. “Get him out of here!” He didn’t have time to check the Commander’s state, not with Fox very well drawing his dying breaths in front of him. Fox’s eyes were closed, and somehow his breathing was a little less harsh and grating.

Didn’t matter, Keikr thought, that still left at least three fatal things to treat.

He tuned out the scuffling as Nimrod managed to get Cody to another bed. The medbay doors whooshed, and Thorn’s quiet presence joined the shiny medic. 

“What happened to him ?” Thorn’s surprise was clear. Keikr flickered a quick glance over, noting Cody was on a bed now. 

“Darned if I know. Just passed out on me.” He refocused on the job at hand, letting Nimrod fill in what he hadn’t said. There wasn’t much to fill in.

After a few minutes of murmured conversation, Keikr snapped out for Nimrod’s assistance. Thorn stayed by Cody’s bed, knowing better than to get in the way when Keikr worked over Fox.

“Really need a bacta tank,” Keikr growled. Blood covered his gloves as he daintily put another stitch in. Internal bleeding was their first concern. Despite the charred hole in the discarded chest plate, Keikr had found no evidence of such on Fox, not even a faint scar. He hadn’t been wearing the armor when it was shot.

On Kamino, they’d been taught to hand stitch, place casts, and do surgery manually, despite being assured bacta and med droids would care for the majority of injuries. But on Coruscant, Keikr had been faced with dying brothers and a med droid who’s only saving grace was his built-in coffee maker, and that was only due to a creative brother’s attempt to appease the previous medic. Keikr had pulled himself up by his bootstraps and buckled down to learning the more archaic forms of medical knowledge.

So it was, as his lost-and-found Commander lay on a table, pale and bleeding out from internal injuries, Keikr was able to do something. 

Nimrod hovered anxiously, handing over tools and readjusting the light. He’d already hooked up Fox’s vitals and started a saline drip with heavy sedatives. Keikr pushed aside the thought that it was his Marshal Commander he was currently operating on, and focused as if he would with any other brother.

Fox’s vitals, reading out on the screen, were dangerously off normal. Fox’s face had lost all color but the blush of a fever, and his breathing came in raspy, wheezing gasps. His fingers twitched a little, most likely residue from his earlier seizure.

Keikr sucked in a low breath as the realization struck him that he may not be able to help here. His hands and skills were useless in the face of such injuries. The internal bleeding would kill him. The fluid in his lungs would kill him. The blood loss and infection would also kill him.

Keikr blinked, concentrating on what he could fix. This was Fox. He wouldn’t die. He’d lasted years in the Guard, the most terrible posting Keikr could ever wish to keep any vod away from. He’d protected, and taken hits for his men that should have killed or gotten him decommissioned, but each day he walked forth, lending his strength and stubborn will-to-live to every single Guard under his command.

He was not going to die because of a few simple injuries.

“...Keikr?” Thorn’s concerned voice sounded a little annoyed, as though he’d been calling for quite some time. Keikr lifted his head, blinking.

“What?” He tried to not snap the words.

“Something’s wrong with him.”

Keikr had it on the tip of his tongue to say “Of course something’s wrong with him! He’s literally dying under my hands!” when he noticed what, exactly, Thorn was indicating. 

Blood stained Cody’s lips.

Oh. Not Fox.

“He’s been coughing a little,” Thorn offered, “But that’s new.”

Keikr swore, and Nimrod blushed at the extensive vocabulary. “Get over there and see what you can do,” He ordered. Nimrod nodded, carefully extracting himself from the temporary operating area.

Keikr stayed focused until he spied one of his wounds vanishing from the corner of his eye. His gaze darted over, fastening on Fox’s arm, just below where the IV sat. He blinked. “What in…” He resisted the urge to run his hand over the arm. He knew there’d been a gash there a moment. At least, he thought he knew.

Abruptly his thoughts whipped over to Cody. “...Nimrod, does he have a gash on his left arm?”

He couldn’t concentrate until his helper returned with a terse negative. Keikr let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. He’d been mistaken about the gash on Fox’s arm after all. He turned, carefully threading a needle and refocusing on a little rip on the liver, leaking blood into the abdominal cavity.

He hesitated. Something else had caught his medic’s eyes; something missing. Fox’s face was uncovered, and Keikr knew for certain that he’d had a wound on his temple. He reached up, brushing back the longer-than-regulation hair. While blood still stained the area, there was no sign of a wound.

“Sir, Commander Cody’s vitals are unstable.”

Keikr froze for half an instant, his mind leaping canyons to reach his conclusion. His eyes drifted down to Fox again, automatically noting he no longer struggled for each breath. The rapsy, deathly sound had vanished. Keikr chucked his needle and thread at the nearest cot. “Kriffin’ hells! Give it back!” He demanded, marching over to Cody. 

“Sir?” Nimrod looked rightly confused. He hurriedly stepped aside as Keikr stalked up to Cody and checked his temple. It was clear. Nevertheless, the monitors that Nimrod had hastily hooked up read out something that should be on a severely injured man, not one who collapsed less than ten minutes ago.

“Sir?” Nimrod ventured again. Thorn was on his feet now as well.

“What’s going on, Keikr?”

“He’s healing Fox!!” Keikr paced between the two of them, clearly distressed. He raked a hand through his hair, tugging at it in a grounding movement. Thorn, who’d removed his helmet, gaped openly.

“How?”

“How should I know!” Keikr threw his hands up. He returned to Cody’s side, hands flying as he skillfully checked the vitals manually. Cody’s breaths, while not raspy, were shallow and fast, clearly not getting him enough oxygen. His gums were pale, almost white, and pulse a rapid flutter. Keikr pointed at Nimrod, “Start a saline drip with glucose and vancomycin. And get him oxygen.” He marched back to Fox. He had to take care of as many of the internal injuries as possible before Cody, the greedy thief, got ahold of them. 

“Wait, Cody is taking Fox’s injuries?” Thorn jogged over to the opposite side of the table as Keikr, who grunted noncommittally as he set to work again. “How’s he doing that?”

Keikr paused long enough to fix Thorn with a bland expression. The Commander backtracked. “Right, you don’t know. Sorry. It just…” he dropped his voice guiltily, “...seems like Force osik.”

Keikr bit his lip, pushing that thought back for later. He honestly hadn’t considered the…. Force in his thoughts. While the Guard never had any direct interaction with the Jedi, they heard plenty of stories. Vod, transferred from the front--from under a Jedi--told tales. The boys at 79’s, the batchmates who still managed to keep in touch. Nobody could quite make heads or tails of the stories, but everyone agreed that the Force did indeed work in mysterious ways, with an extra emphasis on “mysterious”. Possibly even a stronger word than merely “mysterious”. Karkin’ outlandish.

“They’re not Force sensitive,” he pointed out. “No clones are.” He carefully snipped the thread, knotted it, and started the next row of neat stitches.

“I know, I know,” Thorn sighed. Keikr flicked his eyes up briefly. Thorn had a faraway look on his face, but it was something akin to hope. Keikr quickly looked back down. He wasn’t going to let himself hope, just for it to be cruelly ripped away. Everyone knew to be wary when something was messing around in areas it didn’t belong. Keikr certainly wasn’t trusting anything. Cody and Fox were separate, and he would treat them as such.

Even if it did feel strangely like what some might call “Force osik”.

Chapter Text

Cody sat up, panic dousing him like a bucket of ice. He gasped for breath, eyes wildly flashing around. It took a moment to register someone talking to him in a low, soothing tone.

“Udessi, vod. Calm down. You’re safe.”

Fox. Fox was dying. He’d been fighting. He’d asked for help. He-

“Fox!” Cody gasped, grabbing onto who he just now recognized as Keikr. “Where did-is he-I saw-”

Keikr softly shushed him, gently detaching his painful grip on Keikr’s arm. “Fox is all right, vod. He’s gonna pull through. It’s you we were actually worried about, once we realized what was happening.”

Cody stared, uncomprehending. His mind had latched onto the fact Fox was all right, but appeared unable to process the next sentence. At his look of bafflement, Keikr frowned. “Do you know what you did?” Cody looked at him blankly. Keikr groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. “All right, then.” He leaned back in his chair, fixing Cody with a stern expression, “Your heart stopped.”

“Three times!” a voice piped from across the medbay, hidden by the privacy curtain around Cody’s bed. Nevertheless, Cody quickly glanced over to look, instantly regretting as a spike of pain drove into his temple and his whole body let out a protesting shriek. He gasped, sinking back on the bed and clenching his eyes shut. When he dared open them again, Keikr was fixing him with a flat look, hands just leaving the IV by the bed.

“Anyway, as I was saying, your heart stopped. You had absolutely no injuries, nothing we could directly treat. But you and Fox are…connected. Were you that way before?”

“Uh, no?” Cody blinked, muddling through the information. Before he had a chance to fully consider the implications and recall his memories, Keikr kicked the bed. The whole thing rattled, and his attention snapped back to the medic.

“I asked how your pain was?” Keikr repeated, completely unfazed by the glare being directed at him. “You’ve been on a heavy painkiller, but I’ll pull it off if you’ve improved. We don’t have medicine to dump into vod who don’t need it.”

Cody blinked again. He gingerly shifted a little, testing out his body without large movements like he’d attempted previously. It wasn’t exactly… good. “Sore,” he finally settled on. “I feel like an AT-TE ran over me. But I should be fine.”

Keikr raised an eyebrow, “Respectfully, sir, how exactly would you know what being run over by an AT-TE feels like?” He was leaning up to adjust the IV again. Cody hesitated. Keikr looked away. “Please don’t answer that, sir.”

“Sir!” The voice from earlier appeared in person, and Cody recognized the junior medic. Nimrod, was it? Keikr warily glanced over. “Commander Thorn is asking for a status update.”

Keikr waved a dismissive hand, “Go ahead and tell him he’s awake.”

Cody was busy processing. “How long has Fox been up?”

Keikr froze. Nimrod hesitated in the door. They both looked at Cody as though he’d grown another limb. Cody carefully tilted his head a little in an obvious questioning gesture. Keikr cleared his throat, “How did you know Fox was awake? I never mentioned it.”

Oh. Oh . Cody grimaced, “I don’t know. A guess?” Nimrod took the answer, vanishing from sight.

Keikr hummed noncommittally. “He was released from the medbay this morning on light duty, although I doubt that’ll actually work.”

“This morning? How long-”

“Four days, Commander,” Keikr scowled at Cody viciously. “You collapsed in my medbay, and proceeded to try and die for three days, and then remained completely unresponsive for another day and a half. Respectfully, don’t ever do that again.” He crossed his arms. 

“I don’t intend to.” Memory was filtering back. Fox, he’d been dying, he’d been begging for help, everything darkening, light returning, arguing with Fox, pleading for him to hold on, offering to help, forcing Fox to accept help when the stubborn di’kut refused. It was in bits and flashes, nothing concrete enough for him to actually grasp. It slipped through his memory like water, affording him only the barest glimpses of what had happened.

Fox was alive.

Relief gushed through him, followed almost immediately by a feeling distinctly not his. He shrank back a little at the ferocity of the anger that swept his mind, fighting the urge to punch something for an instant before it vanished as quickly as it had come.

“-sir? Cody? Hey! You here now?”

“Yeah,” Cody gasped, blinking rapidly as he tried to focus on Keikr again, “Yeah, I’m here!”

“Good. What the kriff was that?”

Cody paused, “I... have no idea.” he meekly said. Keikr heaved another breath, holding and letting it out slowly. Cody watched in concern, wondering why the CMO knew how to control his anger so well. When Keikr spoke again, it was with detached calm.

“Well, you stay put and rest. If I so much as hear the barest hint of you stepping out of that bed, I will personally tie you down here until I deem you fit to leave.” He shoved back and moved away.

“What exactly happened?” Cody needed to know.

Keikr looked back at him. “You collapsed. You started dying. Fox started improving. Then he started dying again. Then you both evened out to not-quite-dying, with Fox slightly better off. That , sir, is all I know. Facts. I will not dabble in superstition and-” he cut himself off, sweeping out of sight. 

Cody stared after him, perplexed. How… interesting.

~

Fox wasn’t prepared for the wave that washed over him. In the past few days, he’d gotten used to a slight hint of something pressing against his mind, usually worry or a gentle touch of assurance. But this was stronger. So, so much stronger.

Worry fear worry confusion helplessness fear fear fear

Fox staggered a step, letting out an involuntary little gasp and clutching at his head. Thorn seemingly teleported, appearing at his side in an instant.

“Fox! What’s wrong?”

“Headache,” Fox gritted out, unable to find another word for it. The feelings were slowing, as a wave sweeping up the shore would lose momentum.

Fear. Comfort. Safe. Happy. Confusion.

He sat down on the tattered couch. Thorn sank down beside him, hovering anxiously. The only reason he hadn’t already commed Keikr was because Fox had confiscated his comm after the third time he’d commed the medbay, frantic because of a mundane little action from Fox. Once, Fox had tripped over a datapad on the floor and nearly sent Thorn into a spiraling panic attack.

“I think Cody’s awake,” he said, shoving aside the thoughts and feelings. He didn’t know exactly how he knew, but there was something nestled in his mind, something warm and light. It had appeared nearly a week ago, surrounded by events too hazy for him to recall, but he hadn’t given it much thought beyond the fact he could latch onto the light and warmth, drawing comfort from it as he had tried to find his way home. He hadn’t realized it was Cody--and he was real--until he’d stared up at him, seeing frantic fear in his eyes and feeling his grounding touch.

He’d reached for the light again, determined not to die right in front of his vod’ika, and everything had spiraled from there. It was connected to Cody, he knew. How or why, he couldn’t begin to guess. Cody was blazing light, shining and so different from the cold, dark touches Fox felt returning from blackout missions.

“Nimrod says he’s awake,” Thorn confirmed. While Fox was lost in thought, he’d taken the opportunity to raid his Commander’s desk and retrieve his comm. 

“Good,” Fox grumbled. He returned to his paperwork, but found the letters jumbling before his eyes. He attempted concentrating a few more moments, trying to draw on the infallible well of concentration and duty focus, but it had vanished. 

Relief. Irritation. Guilt. Confusion. Relief.

Finally he dropped the datapad with a thunk on the desk. Thorn startled.

Fox felt a flash of anger that he’d been trying to supress. “That di’kut!” he snapped. “He went and nearly died!” And now, he had the audacity to feel relieved about it.

“So did you,” Thorn pointed out, immediately regretting it at Fox’s scowl. 

“So I’ve been told,” he snarked. Without further ado, he kicked back from the desk and marched towards the door. Thorn sprang after him, sending a scattered spray of flimsiwork behind him. “I’m fine, Thorn,” Fox insisted, but he didn’t prevent Thorn from walking half a step too close as they made their way to the medbay. From what he’d been told, Thorn had held the Guard together with admirable tenacity while Hound and Thire devoted themselves almost fully to the Fox-hunt. 

Fox wasn’t blind. He could see how Thorn’s hands shook, and how he practically glued himself to Fox. He was hurting, and trying to assure himself that it was over in the only way he knew how. Fox let his stride bring him a little closer, brushing their pauldrons. He was fine, he really was. From what he remembered, he should have been on bedrest for days, even if they had a bacta tank. But he was up, walking, and besides a faint lingering stiffness, perfectly healthy. And now a headache.

Keikr had been cryptic when asked about it, but Fox was smart. He had put the dots together and attributed his healing--somehow--to Cody.

Keikr caught them in the medbay door. “If you’re just coming off patrol, I will personally-”

“We’re not,” Thorn smoothly cut in. “He wanted to see Cody. We’ve been calmly sitting in his office doing paperwork.”

Fox huffed, “He even moved all his junk in to keep an eye on me.” He felt a flash of amusement, knowing instinctively that it hadn’t come from him. He nudged past Keikr, making a beeline for the curtained off area in the back.

“Take it easy!” Keikr called, “He just woke up and still got plenty of drugs in his system. Might not all be with it.”

Cody was half sitting up, looking pale as death and twice as tired, but his face lit up with a huge grin at the sight of Fox. Fox moved in, hesitating briefly before sinking down on the edge of Cody’s bed. He brushed a hand over Cody’s on the bed, secretly pleased when the hand turned over to grip his. It had been too long since they’d seen each other. It seemed every time one of his brothers was on planet, the forces of the universe worked to keep them apart.

“Cod’ika,” Fox allowed himself a little smile. He startled when Cody flinched. 

“What was that?”

“What was what?”

“That!”

“What?” 

They stared at each other for a long moment, neither knowing entirely what it was they were after. Finally, Fox let out a breath and relaxed again. Keikr had said Cody could be still a bit loopy from the pain meds.

“That!” Cody accused, jabbing a finger against Fox’s thigh. Fox looked down, then the realization struck him. His eyes flitted back to Cody’s face.

“You can feel me?”

Cody frowned, “That’s you?” His tone was incredulous. 

Fox pushed a wave of relief outward, grinning at the glazed look that entered Cody’s eyes at the sensation. “You couldn’t feel that before?”

“..what?” Cody took a moment to order his scrambled thoughts, “Oh, uh, no. Not until you came in.”

“You mind filling us non-supremely intelligent commoners in?” Keikr drawled from where he stood at the end of the bed, arms crossed and one hip cocked as his weight rested on the other leg. Thorn anxiously hovered a few feet away. Nimrod’s curious face peeked around the privacy curtain. It really didn’t afford privacy from much beyond sight. Cody knew the other Guard in the medbay were probably perfectly attuned to the coming conversation.

“It appears you were correct,” Fox said.

Keikr shook his head, “All I gave you, sir, was facts . Commander Thorn drew all the conclusions.”

Fox tilted his head a little. “All right, then. It appears your ‘facts’ were correct in that there’s a connection between us.” There was a wash of confused and pleased from Cody. Fox winced, automatically resisting the urge to put a hand to his head. Clones didn’t show pain, especially not in the Guard. 

However, he forgot that Cody could see his face.

“I’m sorry!” Cody cried as he noted his ori’vod’s slight wince. This was followed by a slamming of guilt so heavy that Fox swayed where he sat. His hand lifted involuntarily, pressing into his forehead in an attempt to relieve the pain. Then Keikr was at his side, steadying him. 

“What’s the matter?” the medic asked, his tone uncommonly worried.

Fox gestured blindly with one hand, “He’s, ah, very emotional.” He gave a little hiss as Cody panicked at the realization he was causing Fox’s pain. Keikr had shifted away from Fox. Faintly, he heard the medic’s murmuring. Thorn had appeared at Fox’s side, gripping his arm with a firm hand. Fox clasped a hand over Thorn’s, focusing on the grounding feelings as he kept his eyes clenched tightly shut.

“Cody, vod, deep breaths. In and out. Come on. You gotta calm down.”

Fox waited until the sheer terror sweeping through him in pounding waves had abated. Finally he raised his head, twisting to shoot Cody a sour look. “Vod’ika, you’re gonna have to get a better hold on that,” he said, not unkindly. Cody was, after all, still recovering from nearly having Fox die in his arms, and was also on “the good stuff” according to Keikr.

Cody apologetically nodded, his face still streaked with terror at hurting Fox, but no wave of guilt swept Fox this time. He’d never been the most emotional of the batch, but the emotions he did show had always been strong, and usually out of control by that point. He, Fox, and Wolffe had never mastered the art of nicely showing their emotions. Once he was assigned to the Guard, Fox had latched his feelings down in a tight box, knowing a slip, an improperly handled senator, or showing something wrong to the Chancellor, could mean a brother’s decommissioning.

“Have you been getting feedback like that?” Keikr addressed himself to Cody, who shook his head. Keikr flicked a quick glance at Fox, who merely grunted something about not having emotions.

Thorn cackled a little at that. A moment later, Keikr was summoned away by Nimrod with a question. He shot a warning look at the Commanders before vanishing. Fox scooted closer. Keikr had graciously allowed Fox to serve out the last day of his enforced bedrest tucked up beside Cody, but he felt like he needed more. It had been so long since one of his brothers had held him, but Fox wouldn’t ask for that. He needed to be strong for the Guard, not be seen curled in his batchmate’s arms.

He hastily refocused his attention on the problem at hand, realizing he was wandering into painful territory. “Are you Force Sensitive?” he asked outright. Cody’s expression would have been hilarious if the question wasn’t so loaded. He gaped, eyes and mouth wide open.

“Am I-no! Absolutely not!” He spluttered. 

“Are you sure?” Fox pressed.

“I work with a Jedi! I think he’d notice if I was… that . I have all the Force Sensitivity of a broken speeder.”

Fox pursed his lips thoughtfully. Cody stared up with a wildly curious expression. “Are you?”

Fox barked a laugh. “If I was a jetti , I would mind trick certain people I know into walking off a cliff. Preferably, on another planet so it's outside my jurisdiction.”

“Wait, you’re in charge of the whole planet?” Out of all that, all Cody had gotten was Fox’s jurisdiction. Fox could have happily punched Cody.

This time, the panic ebbed a little at the edge of Fox’s mind before carefully retreating as Cody wrapped it down. He studied his little brother for a moment. His Commanders and troopers had all too eagerly filled him in on how Cody had been doing as Marshal Commander of the Guard. They’d tried to keep him away, to keep him safe, but as Thorn noted with a trace of despair, “he’s your batchmate! The whole batch must have been decanted stubborn”. Fox had privately agreed.

Yet despite all Cody knew, he obviously hadn’t known how far the Coruscant Guard’s influence reached. Fox sighed, raking a hand through his hair. It really needed cut, he remembered. “Yes, Cody. We have jurisdiction over the whole of Coruscant. There’s hundreds of us here. Did you really think we all just patrol the senate dome?”

Cody hesitated.

Thorn spoke up, voice quiet from where he stood, “While our jurisdiction does concern all of Coruscant, we are primarily entrusted with vital infrastructure, government buildings, and the R.J.C.D.C. Thire handles the diplomatic escorts.” Thorn stopped as his comm chirped anxiously. “Excuse me, Commanders.” He edged outside the privacy curtain to take the call.

Fox felt the confusion over their bond. “The Republic Judicial Central Detention Center,” he offered. The confusion dissolved. “I heard you were taking patrols?” He opened his emotions enough to shove displeasure outward. Cody obviously got the message, judging from his guilty little wince and the web of emotions that eased back at the fringes of Fox’s mind. 

“How do you keep such good control?” Cody asked, something akin to a pained expression on his face. 

“Practice,” Fox enigmatically replied, making a mental note to check with Keikr that his vod’ika wasn’t in pain. Maybe up the painkillers a little.

He appreciated Cody’s work at keeping himself under control. Usually, without a visual sign, the clones could vent all they pleased. 

Between spookily empathetic species serving in Coruscant, and the Chancellor’s eerie ability to pin down a clone’s emotions, the Guard had quickly learned to be taciturn, tucking any and all feelings into a detached persona, and quickly gaining the reputation among the GAR as a impersonal, cold-blooded unit. 

It wasn’t the Guards' fault they couldn’t shake survival instinct merely by walking into 79’s. 

Realizing Cody had avoided his question, he lightly poked his brother’s ribs. “Patrols, vod?”

“I couldn’t just sit around in an office all day!” Cody squirmed uncomfortably. Fox sighed, then raked a hand through Cody’s hair. There was a pleased little sigh as Cody melted at the touch.

“Sirs,” Thorn appeared, and Fox instantly stiffened even though Thorn’s helmet hid his face. Fox didn’t need any sort of space-magic bond to see the tightness coiled in Thorn’s posture. It reeked of rigid politeness. His own apprehension must have escaped, because Cody reacted far stronger than he should have, levering himself to a sitting position with a concerned look darting between Fox and Thorn. 

Thorn hesitated in the face of speaking before Cody. Fox gestured for him to go ahead. Cody knew most of it, even if the darkest parts had not been revealed.

“It’s a decommissioning request, sir,” Thorn hesitantly said. Fox tamped down his anger and nodded for Thorn to continue, “For CT-4181.”

Fox blinked, wondering why Thorn put it that way. Fox knew his men by their names, not their numbers. Who was ‘4181? Why did he sound so-

Panic and agony crashed over him, and he let out a cry as the pain drove through his head. He was distantly aware of someone shouting. Loud, frantic beeping echoed. Someone was screaming. Arms wrapped around him, holding tight against the cold floor.

And then darkness.

Chapter Text

“-be waking up.”

“Commander Fox? Can you hear me?”

“Up at at ‘em, Commander!”

“Sketch!”

Fox stared at the darkness, uncomprehending for a moment. Why was this so sickeningly familiar recently? He was getting tired of it. Wherever he was, it was kriffin’ cold . A light flashed in his eyes, and he tried to turn away, only to be stopped. He froze, breath stuttering as his mind suddenly flashed back.

Dark. Cold. Light.

Pain. Cold. Fear.

Protect. Run. Stay.

Run!

Fox bolted upright. Or would have, if something hadn’t snagged his wrists. He lunged sideways, a fighting will to survive racing through his veins. The restraints caught, holding firmly. He snarled. His blasters at his hips were out of reach, but maybe he could--his ears finally caught up with the world around him.

“Whoa, udessi vod! You’re safe. Safe, Fox. Safe.”

Fox finally forced himself to stop, shaking as he tried to focus his vision. Keikr was talking, his voice pitched into a low constant. Fox shifted a little, bringing the medic into his sight. He stood leaned over the bed, a hand partially outstretched as though he was afraid to touch. Fox drew in a deep breath, letting out with a great portion of his anxiety.

He blinked up at the medic. Keikr offered him a strained little grin. “You with us now?”

“Yeah,” Fox mumbled, flicking his eyes away. Sketch and Thorn stood at the other side, both wearing matching faces of concern. Literally matching. Fox swung his gaze back to Keikr, forcing his fists to relax in the restraints bound tightly over his wrists. “Why..?”

“Cause of that, vod,” Keikr dryly said. “You sometimes come awake swinging, and with your recent… excursion, I didn’t want you hurting yourself or anyone else when you came to. I figured you might be a bit high-strung still from everything that happened. You pack a mean punch, Commander.” He had moved down, loosening the restraints as he spoke. Sketch let out a low little whistle as he looked over the restraint nearest him after releasing Fox’s wrist.

“You know, doc, if he was at full strength, he woulda snapped these things.”

Keikr rolled his eyes, “You think I don’t know?” He retorted. He turned to address Fox, who’d sat up and was gently rubbing his wrists. “You were only out a few minutes.” He cast a significant look at Thorn and Sketch. “If I recall correctly, you came here for a reason.”

“Ah, yes,” Sketch drooped a little, his accent slipping to the forefront. He and Thorn both turned, Thorn shooting Fox another concerned look before they hurried from the medbay. A Commander was usually necessary to soothe the irate senators after a decommissioning request, Fox knew.

Oh, right.

“Cody? Where’s-”

“He’s safe,” Keikr immediately said. He picked up a medscanner and ran it over Fox, cranking it up to go through the armour. “He’s fine, Commander. I was forced to sedate him to knock off whatever the kriff you two had going on, but he’s fine. You appear to be fine as well,” he added almost to himself, eyes fastened on the medscanner.

“Who’s ‘4181?” He scooted sideways, swinging his feet over the edge of the bed. Keikr sank down beside him with a weary little huff.

“Oh, I chewed out Thorn good for that. He shoulda known better than to spring it then and there. You know we told you that the Commander brought one of the 212th? Well Thorn said that’s him. Trapper, I believe.”

Fox felt a sickeningly familiar drop in his gut. He shoved that aside for later. “Right then. Cody still shouldn’t have reacted so strongly to any news like that. Did you figure out what’s wrong with him?”

Keikr offered him a sour look, “Many things. Primarily, his inability to stay out of trouble and mind his own business.”

“That’s not-” Fox cut himself off, drawing a deep breath before continuing in a much more level tone, “Cody wouldn’t just lose control like that.” He leveled Keikr with a look. The medic shrugged.

“I am not dabbling in that, sir.”

Fox ground his teeth, trying again. “Keikr, that wasn’t a normal response. Cody is a Marshal Commander, like me. He wouldn’t just lose his head over hearing about one clone trooper slated for decommissioning.”

Keikr raised an eyebrow. “Apologies, Commander. But I still am not going to dabble in this-” he waved a hand, “-connection thing.” 

Fox stared at his medic, tempering his expression between stern and pleading. He could see Keikr crumbling, and then the medic’s shields came down entirely. “Fine,” he huffed, “You can both feel what the other is feeling, correct?” At Fox’s nod, he continued, “So if he panicked, and that hurt you, you’d send pain back to him, correct?” Fox nodded again, enlightenment dawning. “From there, it's just a negative feedback look, moving too fast for either of you to stop and firing more pain and emotions with each turn around. With all due respect, Commander, neither of you have a handle on this… problem… very well.”

Fox grunted. He was well aware of that, now. Keikr pushed on, evidently deciding to lay bare all his scheming at once. “Like I mentioned previously, he had just woke up a few minutes prior. As evidenced by your first feedback experience, he wasn’t exactly in control of his emotions. Due to the drugs in his system lowering his control, it was much easier for him to be hit by emotions when somebody walks up and tells him that his trooper is dead.”

“But he’s not!” Fox protested.

Keikr shot him a sour look, “How would he know that? Anyone walked him through the decommissioning processes? I don’t see the GAR getting many clones decommissioned, do you?”

Fox fell silent. Keikr tacked an ending on his lecture, “Besides, decommissioning requests still throw us, even after all this time. I’m going to guess you weren’t consciously controlling your emotions in the first few seconds after Thorn said that.”

Fox’s shoulders dropped. He hadn’t, he realized. He shifted the conversation away from his own emotions. “Why is it so cold?”

Keikr tossed him an odd look and reached to drag over a blanket, “It’s not, sir.” He swept the scanner over Fox’s head again. “And you’re not running a fever.” He critically eyed his Commander with an expression that caused Fox to hesitantly shift. “It’s likely residue from where you were before,” Keikr bluntly stated. “If you were cold for long periods of time, which from what I gathered, you were, then you’d be adjusted toward warmth. You crave warmth, even if it isn’t actually needed, because you were deprived so long. I suggest turning your armor heat up.”

Fox gathered the blanket, neatly folding and setting it on the bed. Keikr stifled a groan. Fox ignored it, his mind already bounding ahead. 

“All right. So one of the 212th is requested to be decommissioned?” He clarified, circling back to the issue at hand. At Keikr’s reluctant nod, Fox pressed the palms of his hands into his eyes, uttering a little groan. It was bad enough he couldn’t protect his own men, but now the senators had to go and drag his little brother’s men through the muck.

“No,” he said. Keikr frowned, unsure what the word meant in this context. Fox didn’t raise his head, mumbling into his hands, “I am not letting him be decommissioned.” He dropped his hands, noticing he had the full attention of the four Guards in the medbay. “We’re shuffling.”

“Shuffling?” Keikr hesitated, “Isn’t that gonna be hard since he’s new? He can’t blend yet.”

“We’re doing it,” Fox insisted. “We did it with Hound. Look how far he’s gotten. Sassy shiny to head animal handler.” He pushed to his feet and began pacing back and forth. The bed-bound Guards tracked his movements, eyes alight with hope. “Get Tally down here. I need to talk to Sketch, too. Where’s Hound and Thire?” Fox turned his pacing steps toward Cody’s corner, peeking in at his little brother. 

Keikr had picked up a datapad, “Thorn and Sketch have gone to take care of the current situation, with Sketch staying to cover for Trapper. Tally’s on shift at the prison, I think. Hound is…” Keikr trailed off as he scanned the schedule, “He’s on shift too. Looks like Thire’s off, though. You’ll probably find him in the officer’s quarters.”

Fox nodded his thanks. Cody probably wouldn’t be awake for another few hours, he figured. He had to move fast, before he could poke his sticky little fingers into the mess. He wheeled toward the door, and Keikr shot to his feet.

“Where are you going? You’re still on light duty!”

Fox didn’t even pause, “As Marshal Commander, I now remove myself from light duty.” He bolted before Keikr could make him regret the bold words. 

~

“He did what ?” Fox stared, unable to fully comprehend the words coming over his comm. Keikr’s words tumbled out with haste Fox had rarely heard from the medic.

“ Called his Jedi! I tried to stop him! I didn’t know he was awake, but then I heard him talking and went back and he was in a holo-call! ” Keikr’s tone betrayed his anguish, “ I’m sorry, Commander! I ended the call and took his comm away, but from what I heard, the Jedi said he’d be coming here to personally investigate. ”

Fox rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Keep his comm away from him. As soon as you medically clear him, send him my way.” There was silence on the comm. “Keikr?” Fox prompted.

“Ah….I may have panicked and sedated him again… even though we don’t have the supplies to waste,” Keikr mumbled. Fox could picture him doing that anxiously little feet shifting thing that he’d never been able to shake. Fox bit back another sigh.

“It’s all right. We’ll handle it. Thanks for letting me know.” He clicked off the hall, making a mental note to check in with Keikr later. He knew how much the younger clone let his mistakes weigh on him. Personality and skill wise, he was an outstanding medic, but he took all losses to heart in such a way that Fox wasn’t sure how he managed to pick himself up after each one. Mistakes, while on a smaller scale, carried the same guilt burden. Every Guard knew mistakes could kill on Coruscant quicker than on a battlefield. 

Fox finished up the bit of paperwork he was on and checked in with Alec. According to decommissioning procedures, the clone slated was arrested and put in a cell to await the next transport to Kamino. The 212th’s partner, Alec, had refused to leave and was now pulling guard duty. Ringer, Alec’s previous partner, had been let out of the medbay early to take over the patrol with Thorn. 

Fox sighed. Less than two days since he was back on the job and already the whole Guard was crumbling. 

Nothing new, he thought, reaching for his personal datapad. The Guard was always crumbling. One of these days, something critical would snap, and mass punishment would descend upon them like a death knell. Last time Fox had witnessed mass punishment, he’d been unable to sleep for more than an hour for weeks, plagued by the loss of two of his command, and far, far too many men.

It hadn’t even been a battle.

Trying to shake the memories, Fox quickly began scrolling down the datapad. He needed to find out where Cody’s Jedi was, in order to figure out how long they had to put up the Guard’s false front. General Kenobi, wasn’t it? His eyes skimmed the most recent updates on the 212th battalion.

Coruscant. 

They were on Coruscant .

Fox shot to his feet, chair clattering down behind him. His fingers dashed in a familiar comm and he anxiously stared at the datapad while it rang. From the garbled answer that sounded more like a series of groans than a name, Fox decided he’d been still asleep. And of course, Thire always insisted on sleeping on his face.

“Thire, we got a surprise Jedi arriving at any time. I need you to sweep the base. Get the shinies clear, and lock down the barracks. You know the drill.”

The sounds from the other end sounded suspiciously like a long string of muffled curses, but between them Thire managed to confirm and hang up. Fox called Sketch, who’d returned to man the front desk. The odd clone only spouted off a single cursed snarl before getting himself under control. He was the first warning Fox would get of the Jedi stepping in the doors. He sent a quick comm to Hound and Thorn, giving them a heads-up of the situation. 

He paused, leaning back to run through everything. Keikr obviously knew. The rest of his Command was now aware. They all knew that the Guard could not have shortcomings. Shortcoming meant they weren’t perfect, and a lack of perfection would get them killed.

Or worse, punished.

Fox shuddered, shaking himself from the memories. So, Cody had awakened, called his Jedi, and promptly been put back under by a panicked medic. That would have been those not-his feelings he’d gotten shortly before Keikr’s call. He had to admit, the anger had taken him by surprise. Cody was obviously not handling the news of his man’s fate very well. 

“We don’t want to bother any of the Jedi Generals, now, do we, Commander?” 

The silken tones propelled Fox into action, despite knowing that his Command hadn’t yet notified Palpatine of his return. Fox would do anything to protect his shinies, and the manipulative Chancellor knew it.

Fox hastened his steps. 

“Watch the cameras, trooper,” Fox barked on his way past Sketch, receiving a terse nod in reply. For a moment, he wondered if it was wise to have the temperamental clone near to the Jedi, considering the reason Sketch had been transferred to the Guard. 

“…drastic change in character and sudden loss of control..” He could see the words as clearly as if they were in front of him now. Sketch had been, for lack of a better word, blown up. The severe brain injury he’d taken had affected him severely. He’d been working hard at keeping his temper in check, and improved in leaps and bounds, but that was the reason Fox put him on the front desk. He was dealing with mainly brothers, who could understand and accommodate if Sketch snapped. The public or senators would not be so lenient. 

Fox shook his head, realizing there was nowhere else Sketch could go. Besides, the vod had a silver tongue as long as he didn’t flip and lose his cool. Perhaps he’d help in persuading the General that everything was all right on the base.

“Alec,” Fox greeted. “At ease.” The fully-armored Guard dipped his head in acknowledgement, settling into parade rest again. Fox was comforted by the fact he only knew it was Alec because Thorn had told him who was standing guard. He stepped past Alec, looking in at the 212th who was causing all this trouble. The clone glared belligerent up at him, but a startled look flashed across his face as he took in Fox’s armor. They eyed each other warily. Fox noted the black eye and bruise on his cheek, courtesy of his missing bucket. He also cradled an arm protectively. From Thorn’s report, Fox knew the CSF had gotten there before the rest of the Guard. Apparently, they hadn’t treated the errant trooper very well.

“Sir?” the 212th-ey was on his feet. “Where’s Commander Cody?”

Fox stared at him impassively through his visor. Gusty little one, wasn’t he? Gutsy or not, he had to be swept under the rug before the Jedi arrived if there was hope for him. He tilted his helmet a little toward the cameras, hoping Sketch had worked his magic. He felt Alec tense beside him as he drew his blaster, lithely flicking it to stun.

The 212th trooper drew back as far as he could in the cell, obviously identifying Fox as an enemy now. Fox didn’t have time to explain, and once he started it would be difficult to stop. He raised the blaster, and the 212th-ey collapsed. Fox quickly slid his blaster back in place, knowing the cameras would come back online within seconds. 

“Looks like he suffered heart failure,” he observed to Alec. The Guard relaxed as he realized what they were doing. Fox stepped forward, opening the cell door. Alec kept on his heels, and the two of them heaved the unconscious trooper up between them. 

Alec sputtered a little at his weight, “Kriff! He’s heavy!”

Fox merely grunted. The only reason the rest of the Guard wasn’t “heavy” was because they were overworked and underfed. After all, the cushy Coruscant posting didn’t require the same high-grade food as the frontline troopers. 

They maneuvered out, and Fox led the way towards the medbay. Keikr waited at the doors, impatiently ushering them to a bed. Fox dropped his brosque charade as soon as the doors swung shut, knowing there were no cameras in the medbay. He shifted the 212th-ey toward the nearest bed, easing him down.

“Get his kit off and wipe it.” He ordered. Alec nodded, already working at unfastening the vividly colored armor. Keikr was drawing up a syringe. Fox glanced at him in concern as he tilted the little bottle, obviously draining it.

“This is the last of the vital suppressor,” he murmured, confirming Fox’s fears. Fox bit his lip in the safety of his bucket.

“Does he actually need it?”

Keikr hesitated. “I could just record life lost, but if they die in the medbay it’s a little longer form that includes the vitals to prove death. As long as the Jedi doesn’t ask for all the paperwork, we could get by.” His unspoken ‘but if he does’ hung in the air between them. Alec glanced over. He’d stripped off the upper armor and moved to the lower now. 

Fox still debated. If they could scrape by without it, the vital suppressor could save a life later if the Chancellor or senators decided to take out a bad day on one of them. Standard procedure was to call Keikr, who administered “adrenaline” to try and bring the “defective clone” back online. But of course, they “died” anyway and the Guard would withdraw their beaten vod from the ire that lurked  over them. No decommissioning request would be filed, as the clone had already been dead. 

“Save it,” Fox said. He turned on his heel, displeased with how tired he was merely from hauling a trooper from the prisons to the medbay. His comm blinked. He glanced down, and his heart stilled at the single word from Sketch.

“Keep breathing, Fox,” Keikr’s irked tone came from where he focused on the 212th-ey. Fox obediently drew a deep breath, immediately blurting out,

“He’s here. I’ll stall him.” He ran from the medbay, not waiting to see how Keikr and Alec handled it. They’d expected the Jedi soon, but this soon? Fox knew it should have taken longer for the Jedi to extract himself from his current activities and drive clear over to the Guard headquarters. 

Perhaps he’d pulled a Jedi trick and teleported, Fox sourly thought. He shot off a brisk comm to the rest of the Guard en masse and slowed to a walk. He stood for a moment, collecting himself into the cool, impersonal Commander that he had to be for his men. Then, squaring his shoulders, he strode around the last corner.

Chapter Text

Obi-Wan Kenobi resisted the urge to shift restlessly as he waited. The clone behind the large wooden desk was by all appearances entirely occupied with his paperwork, but Kenobi saw the little side glances darted toward him, and noted with amusement that he’d been lingering over the same piece of flimsiwork since he’d sat down several minutes ago.

Kenobi studied the room while he waited. This was the area the public saw when they walked into the Guard looking for something. To the right, a hallway led to the holding cells. Back behind the desk--guarded by the clone sitting there--the hallway leading deeper into the Guard base bent itself around a turn. Brisk footsteps sounded down the hall, then Commander Fox rounded the corner.

At least, he thought it was Commander Fox.

The clone was entirely armored up, not an inch of him exposed. His paint differed from the Guard sitting at the desk, but it was still the same red and white. The clone at the desk gave a respectful little nod, settling at his Commander’s motion. Kenobi curiously reached out in the Force, trying to double check if it was Fox. He frowned to himself at how… muted the Commander felt. He gingerly reached for the other clone, finding the same thing. Their minds’ were exceptionally quiet . They should have displayed the same spike of life as the rest of the clones in the GAR.

“General Kenobi,” maybe-Fox greeted, assuming attention in front of the Jedi. Obi-Wan gave a little wave.

“At ease, Commander.” Perhaps he’d just drop names for now, he decided. If this was Fox, he could congratulate him on returning to duty, as it was his understanding Fox being missing had led to Cody coming to oversee the Guard in the first place. As he wasn’t entirely sure, however, he withheld. Why hadn’t he checked a recent holo of the Commander to freshen his memory of what Fox’s armor looked like? He hadn’t realized the clones would be so…. identical.

“I understand my Commander was injured somehow? Can I see him?” There was a little flare of something from maybe-Fox at his words, but he couldn’t quite pinpoint what it had been, for it was gone as quickly as it appeared.

Maybe-Fox swung sideways, indicating the hallway. “Yes sir.” Fox led half a step ahead, his pace perfectly crisp and brisk. Kenobi lengthened his stride a little to keep up. He didn’t know much about Fox--if this was Fox--outside that he was Cody’s batchmate. He’d seen the Guard on occasions, and interacted with Thire when the Commander was leading diplomatic escorts, but outside that, he’d never had the occasion to interact with the Coruscant Guard. 

He flung his senses out a little, searching for the vibrant life that always accompanied a large gathering of clones.

There was nothing.

Puzzled, he cast wider, letting his feet take autopilot in keeping pace with the Commander.

Still nothing. If he didn’t know better, he would guess the whole base was deserted. He dug a little deeper, searching the area he’d cast a little harder. If all the Guard was as muted as the two he’d met…

Ah. He could feel them now that he knew what he was looking for. Muted indeed. He would have thought he was wearing a Force suppressor with how dully their presence sparked. There was only one bright light, and it blazed like a fire amidst the muted lights of the Guard.

Cody, of course. Kenobi instantly recognized the Force signature. It was a little dampened, however. And there was… something else-

“General Kenobi. Commander Fox.”

Obi-Wan snapped his attention back to the physical world. A Guard with a medic symbol plastered on his pauldron respectfully greeted them. His helmet was tucked under one arm.

“The General is here to see his Commander,” verified-Fox said. There was that odd twinge again, and this time, Kenobi latched onto it as it lingered for a moment. Anger. Why was Fox angry over him coming to see Cody?

The medic tilted his head. “I’m sorry, General. Commander Cody is currently asleep.”

Obi-Wan pushed down his disappointment even as he realized that was why Cody’s signature had seemed a little duller than normal. “May I see him anyway? He sounded distressed when he called me, and I would like to make sure he’s all right.” Obi-Wan inserted a little shyness into his tone. The Commander and medic exchanged glances, something clearly flashing between them, then the medic scooted back.

“Of course, General.” His voice lowered as the medbay doors opened. Kenobi padded behind the medic as he led the way, Fox bringing up the rear. His gaze curiously flitted over the Guard in the beds. There were only two, both asleep. One was comically swaddled up in bandages, most of his face covered.

“Here you are, sir. Please don’t wake him. He needs his rest.” The medic backed off, leaving Kenobi to entered the curtained off area. Cody did indeed look like he needed rest. His face was pale, and he looked like he’d lost weight in the short time since he’d been sent off from the 212th with Trapper. Obi-Wan furtively glanced back to make sure the medic and Commander were out of sight before reaching up and brushing a hand over Cody’s arm. 

He jolted a little as the contact opened Cody far more then when he’d initially checked him. Subconsciously recognizing him, Cody had dropped the shields Obi-Wan had carefully taught him to hold. Now, although still a little dampened by sleep, his Force signature blazed with familiar, no, brighter than familiar, glory. Kenobi closed his eyes, reaching out and gently brushing against Cody’s mind. His Commander accepted it, even unconscious. His life force shone brighter than it had before, humming in tune with his surroundings and peace. Something dark lingered to the side, however. It was tucked off, almost like the pair-bonding between Jedi. That was impossible, though. Cody wasn’t Force sensitive. Obi-Wan had checked every member of the 212th in hopes of finding a Force sensitive clone, but failed.

He gingerly probed deeper. Despite what he believed, there it was. A bond, but… he hesitated. It wasn’t exactly a Force bond. It was different, somehow. Tighter, almost. However, it was strengthening even as he sat there and wondered at it. He tracked the bond down, trying to see who had managed to rope Cody into this.

Focused directly on the trail, he smacked into the shield.

Not a flimsy shield, either. A very solid, immovable wall. He probed at it a little, getting a recoil of pain so strong he immediately drew back. Cody’s Force presence shuddered a little, although he showed no physical signs of feeling it. Kenobi withdrew entirely, blinking blearily as he refocused on a different world. Whoever Cody was so oddly bonded to, it was tight, and they were not feeling particularly receptive toward people poking around.

He knew Cody hadn’t had anything of this sort when he left the Negotiator. He had sounded utterly panicked when he’d commed, but failed to mention anything besides a confused plea for help for Trapper before he’d hung up mid-sentence.

“What were you trying to tell me..?” he murmured. 

~

Fox didn’t like Jedi. They reminded him too much of the Chancellor, the way they intuitively seemed to pick up on emotions and creepily stared at you. He indicated Keikr don his bucket, and opened comms between them.

“Is there really a chance he’ll wake him? We can’t handle two of them.”

Keikr shook his head, “No chance.”

Fox sighed, letting his gaze flit over the medbay and land on the well-swaddled trooper again. “Nice job with the 212th-ey.” 

“Yeah,” Keikr shuffled a little, “Just get the Jedi out of here ‘cause that stun round will be wearing off soon. As long as the Jedi doesn’t go poking around we should be fine.”

“He shouldn’t. I’ll take him to my-” Fox suddenly gasped, doubling over as pain stabbed through him. He closed his eyes, gritting his teeth against the wash. He was aware of Keikr’s steadying hand on his back, and the concerned tone over the comms. He snarled a soft curse as he forced himself to a vertical position again. The pain was ebbing away, soothing a little in its wake almost as if an apology.

“Karkin’ jetti ,” Fox snapped. He felt Keikr’s hand tense on him, and waved him off. “No worse than after a blackout mission. Just, wasn’t expecting it.” He was aware his voice was still a little breathless from the sharp flash of pain. 

“The Jedi caused that?”

“How would I know?” Fox grumbled, “He’s the only one around here who’s got that ability. Cody’s out cold. I haven’t felt a thing from him since he last woke up, and even then it wasn’t much because I’ve taken my own advice and tried putting a block between us.” He groaned. “I need caf.”

“No sir,” Keikr immediately responded, “You need sleep .”

“I don’t have time to sleep, Keikr! I’ve been gone for over two weeks. Thorn can’t keep-” Fox inhaled the rest of his protests, swinging into parade rest as the General appeared again. He clicked his external speakers back on, respectfully greeting him. “Sir.”

“He looks well, ah…” Kenobi hesitated, glancing over Keikr. Fox felt a little thrill of pride when he realized Kenobi was trying to decide if this was the same trooper, since Keikr had his bucket on now. Keikr mistook the hesitance, giving the General his CT number. Kenobi looked mildly flustered by that, which Fox didn’t know what to make of. “Ah, thank you, trooper. I prefer names, usually.”

“Yes sir. Sorry sir,” Keikr crisply said, and Fox felt another sneaking pride at Keikr’s smooth avoidance of giving his name. From what the Guard said, Cody had insisted upon names, and they’d complied because he was vod. He was not a Guard, and he was outside their confidence in most things, but somewhere buried deep, they still trusted their own. A Jedi would not be getting their names.

Kenobi recovered his poise and dignity, and turned to Fox. “Commander, where is Trapper? I understood he was in a bit of trouble, and would like to offer my assistance.”

Keikr shifted his feet a tiny bit. Fox gathered his surprise at the blunt request and rolled with it. “Could we discuss this in my office, sir?” He cast a significant look toward Keikr. Kenobi thought it was news the medic didn’t need to hear. Keikr knew it was Fox’s ploy to get the Jedi out before Trapper came to. Both went along with him graciously. Keikr ducked his head and moved away. Kenobi amiably agreed to the office.

Fox held his tongue on the walk between the medbay and the office. He went the long way, back to the main desk and up the hall toward his office, rather than the shortcut that went right in front of the barracks. If Thire had gotten everyone prepped, the barracks should have been a safe zone, but Fox was rather safe than sorry. 

He’d been sorry one too many times.

The door slid shut behind them, and Fox gestured for the General to take the visitor’s chair. Kenobi sank down, every inch the Jedi as his dark robes billowed out a little. He tucked his hands into his sleeves and offered Fox a curious look. Fox hesitated a moment before tugging his helmet off and setting it on a little pile of datapads. He wasn’t pleased with showing his face, but the General would probably think it odd for them to sit across from each other at a desk with his helmet on.

“Sir, you’re inquiring after CT-4181, correct?”

Kenobi cocked his head, “Yes. I believe that’s Trapper’s number.”

Fox made his facial expressions obvious, having to loosen the tight hold on his emotions to get the genuine apologetic look he was after. “I’m sorry, sir. CT-4181’s death report came in just this morning.”

Kenobi startled the barest fraction. Fox was beginning to see why Cody’s Jedi was called the Negotiator. The man was charming, polite, and had a firm grip on his reactions. There was silence in the office for just a moment as he pondered the words. “He’s dead, then?”

“I’m afraid so,” Fox said bluntly. “I usually try to contact the batchmates, but I haven’t gotten the chance. I understand as he was not a Guard, this will require slightly different protocol in handling the paperwork. As Commander, I should have contacted you immediately, as it is one of your troopers.”

“Well, Cody was here. He is always able to act in my stead.”

“Ah, yes,” Fox shuffled the flimsi on the desk, tamping down his jealousy. For some reason, hearing this Jedi call Cody “his” grated him the wrong way. Cody was a vod, not a natborn. He carefully kept the bitterness from his tone. “Your Commander is an able man. I shall pass the paperwork to him, then.”

Kenobi was giving him an odd look. Fox stared back with mild blankness. Kenobi abruptly shook his head. “May I see the body, Commander?”

Fox’s thoughts stuttered. See the body ? They hadn’t covered this. “I’m sorry, General. It was already incinerated.” He spoke very carefully now, giving only the barest details. It would be easier to work with a vague story than something specific. 

Kenobi looked mildly disappointed. “The Guard is quick on protocol, I’ll give you all that. However, I wasn’t aware that clones burn the bodies of their dead.”

Fox’s words were clearly colder when he spoke again. “It is Coruscanti law, General. There is nowhere to bury your dead here, therefore by law the body must be incinerated.”

Kenobi considered again. Fox watched him with a level expression, watching for the minute signs he’d quickly learned to identify as a matter of survival. There was a balance between letting somebody accept news, and then removing them from his jurisdiction before they came up with more questions. Kenobi hit the balance, and Fox rose, snagging his helmet.

“May I escort you out, General?” While oozing politeness, he situated himself in such a position that it would have been rude for Kenobi to refuse. Fox had learned a lot in his years dealing with prickly, obstinate senators.

Kenobi reluctantly gained his feet. Fox shut the door behind them and started for the front desk, slipping his helmet on. “I can assure you, General, we shall return your Marshal Commander to you as soon as the medic clears him.”

“Thank you,” Kenobi murmured. He was obviously thinking. Not good, Fox’s mind helpfully supplied. He quickened the pace a little, grateful to Thire for clearing the halls. Something flickered across his mind, and only years of practice kept his stride even. It was muddled, barely there. The feelings sluggishly ran together, blurring. Despite being so quiet and distant, Fox still felt a headache coming on. He cursed softly in the privacy of his bucket. He didn’t get headaches except for around blackout missions. And now, apparently, from Cody. He tried what he’d done earlier, locking down his own emotions and putting a mental block up between himself and his little brother. The feelings instantly dampened to nearly nonexistent.

That was… odd. When he’d done that before, he’d as good as lost the connection to Cody. Now, even with Cody in a mostly-sedated state, he could still feel emotions leaking around the barrier. He set his teeth together and ignored the rising headache. 

They were at the front desk. Fox exchanged the common pleasantries with the Jedi, who responded in kind. The instant the Jedi was clear of the base, Fox slumped against the wall.

“Sir?” Sketch instantly gravitated toward him.

“‘M fine, Sketch,” Fox mumbled. He pulled off his helmet, rubbing a hand against his temple. Sketch reluctantly slid back to his desk. 

“How did…” he trailed off hesitantly.

“Fine,” Fox replied, eyes closed and head tipped back against the wall. “I think he accepted it. Saw Cody. I told him Trapper-” he picked his head up and opened his eyes, “Is that his name?” At Sketch’s nod, he continued, “I told him Trapper was dead and we burned the body. Didn’t tell him how he died, but the cameras will show him collapsing in his cell.” He knew it was important for the rest of the Guard who might talk to the Jedi to know their cover story. 

Sketch nodded thoughtfully. “Keikr sent me that paperwork to look over. I’ll have it sent to your datapad.”

“Thanks.” Fox slipped his helmet back on. Work never ended. At least that hadn’t changed in two weeks.

Chapter Text

“Ow! Is that really necessary?”

“I’m afraid so, Commander.”

“Why do- ow !”

Keikr shot him a look that may have been amusement if Cody had been paying attention. He nursed his arm, scowling fiercely at the medic. “I don’t see why I have to get tests done. Fox didn’t!”

“On the contrary, sir. All troopers are regularly tested for Infectus Virisosus.” Keikr studiously ignored Nimrod’s little convulsion, and the resulting crash as he dismantled a pile of bandages. The Guard in the nearest bed snickered.

“In-what now?” Cody’s brow scrunched in confusion.

“A deadly disease, sir.” Keikr swiped a clean wipe over the inside of his arm, “Don’t worry, I don’t believe you have it. The symptoms are very clear. Once they show up, that is. It starts as perfectly harmless little things that troopers tend to push aside in the heat of battle,” Keikr tsked sadly, shaking his head, “Once the symptoms are apparent, its too late. However, as I mentioned, I believe you should be all right,” he assured as he reached for an instrument on the table beside them. Cody immediately scooted away, protectively pulling his arm against him.

“I think that’s quite enough needles!” He edged a little further as Keikr chose up a needle that looked far, far too large for comfort. Then again, didn’t all needles look too big?

Keikr brandished the empty syringe. “But there’s still-”

“No,” Cody said firmly. “My CMO can take care of it.” If he didn’t know better, he would think the medic looked almost disappointed. Nevertheless, he wrapped up. Within two minutes, Cody was being walked to the door. 

“Thank you for staying,” Keikr offered a charmed smile. Cody grumbled out something unintelligible, his expression tensing at the sight of Tally straightening from where he’d been lounged against the wall. While he’d apologized for attacking him in the hall that evening, there was still some lingering unease between the two. Keikr wondered why Fox had sent Tally, and not somebody else, to pick Cody up.

Cody hastily escaped down the hall, Tally on his heels. Keikr grinned to himself, turning on his heel and letting the medbay doors swish shut. He stood for a moment, observing the three Guards confined to his domain. Ringer had be let loose, a bit early, but he hadn’t come back yet. Of the other three, only Daynight was awake. He offered the trooper a tired grin, getting a shy little smile in return. Daynight had been most unfortunate, being severely injured in his first two days with the Guard. Without a bacta tank, he’d been confined to the medbay for nearly three weeks now. 

Keikr shook the thoughts from his head and tapped out a brisk message to his own Marshal Commander.

“ Delayed him as long as I could. All yours now ”

Fox’s single-word reply quickly showed his opinion of that news. Keikr huffed soft laugh and moved back down the row of neat beds. “Do you think they’re all like that?” he asked thoughtfully. Nimrod looked up from where he’d nearly finished stacking the bandages up again.

“Who? Like what?”

“Fox’s batch. Stubborn with a dash of aversion for medbays.”

Nimrod ducked his head to hide the amused smile, mumbling, “I don’t know, sir.”

~

Cody, while pleased to finally be free of the medbay, was less pleased that he still had an escort. An escort who insisted Fox wanted to see him as soon as he was released. He opened his emotions to let his displeasure be clear. Fox had faded from his mind a bit, but the connection seemed to be strengthening anyway, for he caught more flashes of his ori’vod’s feelings than he had at first. In answer to his displeasure, he got amusement. He scowled fiercely in the safety of his bucket.

Tally led him straight to Fox’s door, rapping sharply before fading into the background as Cody stepped in. Fox looked up in surprise, his exhaustion clear in his shadowed eyes and tightness around his mouth. Cody stopped.

“Kriff! Fox! When was the last time you slept?”

Fox considered. Finally he shook his head, motioning toward the ratty couch. Cody moved toward it, pulling his helmet off to sink down on the tattered cushions. Fox eyed him, noting how much stronger Cody’s feelings were with them so close.

“I suppose you’ll be going back to the 212th now,” he said evenly. This was going to be very difficult, lying to a brother who could feel his emotions.

Cody narrowed his eyes. “I don’t believe that ‘dead’ osik your medic tried to feed me.” 

Fox winced a little. He’d asked Keikr to tell him the news, knowing the medic was in a better position to lie to Cody, as well as control any panic attack that cropped up. It had gone well as expected, with Cody throwing a confused, grieving tantrum that his trooper was dead. Fox had been on the couch with a headache for an hour. Less than twenty minutes ago he’d managed to shove himself back to work, ignoring the pounding pain behind his temples. Now, he tiredly observed his little brother.

“All right,” he said. With a wistful sigh, he turned back to the datapad. Cody blinked. He’d expected a bit….more. Not quiet acceptance that he believed he was being lied to. Thrown off track, he fumbled at his words a little, finally falling silent as well. His mind circled back to the first thing Fox had said.

“Yeah, I suppose so.”

The dark eyes shifted toward him again, eyebrow clearly raised in a question. He elaborated, “I’ll be going back to the 212th. I mean, the General’s probably concerned.”

“He is,” Fox agreed. “Came by earlier when you were asleep. Said he wanted ‘his commander’ back.”

Cody startled at the surge of jealousy. “Fox?”

“Hmm?”

Cody scooted off the couch and stood as close to Fox as he could get. His side pressed into Fox’s pauldron, the stiff edges of their armor gently clacking together. “You know I love you, right?”

Fox froze.

Cody gritted his teeth a little at the sudden burst of emotions, dazzling him like shrapnel from a grenade. He’d never truly appreciated how Fox was keeping his emotions under a tight rein until he lost said rein for a moment. The feeling passed abruptly.

“Yeah,” Fox said brusquely. “Of course.” Their batch didn’t say things like that. Bly came the closest, but none of the other let him be too “mushy” with them. Now, Cody wondered if that had been the right choice. He loved Fox, with all his heart, and he trusted that Fox loved him back.

Apparently, Fox himself had not gotten that.

Cody put a hand on his arm, and Fox flinched. Ignoring it, Cody tugged him from the chair and over to the couch. Fox came along with only token resistance. However, he refused to sit. Cody sat instead, leaning his forehead against Fox’s hands.

“We all love you, ori’vod,” he murmured, “You’re everyone else’s vod’ika, but we love you just the same. Don’t ever forget that.”

Fox made a little sound. 

Cody tightened his grip on his wrists, firm and promising. They stayed in silence for a long moment. Then Cody reached up and rapidly dragged him down.

Fox let out an ungracious little yelp, tumbling on top of Cody, who let out a little whuff. “That’s what you get for pulling me down on you, di’kut!” Fox grumbled, their emotional moment broken. Nevertheless, he was arranging himself to neatly slot into the space behind Cody. Cody shifted, laying his head on Fox. He let out a contented little sigh. Fox hesitated, then stilled in his position. A few minutes of precious time with his vod’ika, then he’d go back to paperwork.

Cody hummed softly, feeling Fox’s tense muscles beneath his hand. Gradually, as they sat there, he noted Fox relaxing. He shifted a little to allow Cody more comfort. Cody sucked up it, melting into Fox’s embrace as the latter wrapped an arm around him. 

Good things could only last for so long.

“I need to get back to work,” Fox edged sideways a little. Cody snagged a hand over his chestplate, tugging him back.

“No, you need to snuggle your vod’ika before he goes back to war. It’s been so long since we’ve seen each other-”

“Like yesterday?”

“-and you never know when will be the last time.”

Fox cuffed Cody over the head, making a sour face at the low blow. Cody ducked a little, pleased as Fox settled back again. He kicked his helmet onto the floor and squirmed around until he was comfortably sprawled over the couch. Fox relaxed a bit more. His hand touched Cody’s forehead, then moved up to run through the short-cropped hair. Cody sighed in bliss.

“You could, ah, get some rest,” Fox offered. Cody scoffed.

“I’ve been sleeping for days. I don’t need more sleep.”

Fox stayed silent, seeing what Cody refused to acknowledge. His eyes were drooping lower by the second, and his fingers twitched a little as he uselessly tried to fight the sleep dragging him down. Fox was sure it would take more than a mere few days to stop feeling the effects of healing someone of several fatal injuries. Fox even felt tired, but he shook it off. Sliding out from under Cody drew a sleepy whine of protest. He rapidly returned with a datapad.

“Shush,” he murmured, slipping back into position and absently patting Cody’s head. The soft grumble faded into deep, even breaths. Fox propped his datapad on Cody’s back, squirming sideways a little until he was more comfortable.

Somebody was requesting a diplomatic escort. A senator wanted a different Guard stationed in her hall, because the first creeped her out. Fox snorted to himself. As if she could tell the difference between his Guards. Keikr needed paperwork signed on a death in the field, from a few days ago. Thorn had submitted a request for less lower-level patrols. Sketch needed permission for prisoner transfers. Fox chewed on his lip, wondering as always how much he could get away with and how much he might get in trouble for by signing off.

He could take trouble, he decided, approving Thorn’s request. The forms and paperwork seemed never ending. Cody’s deep, steady breaths were a comforting backdrop to the silence in the office. Time passed in easy silence. 

Cody’s eyes flickered open a little as he registered the lack of movement from Fox. He looked up, a cheeky little grin crossing his face as he realized Fox was asleep. He’d always been good at fake-sleeping to get his older brothers to bed when they were worried about something. Somehow, holding him and believing he was asleep lulled them. Ever since he’d discovered the little trick, he plied it on one or another of his brothers. It seemed it worked on Fox well as ever.

He yawned, turning carefully and snuggling down a little. He wasn’t truly tired… he thought. But there was also no reason to get up and disturb Fox. He let his eyes flutter shut.

Fox snapped back to awareness with a buzzing sound ringing in his ears and vibrating against his vambrace. He automatically scanned the room, noting his datapad resting on Cody’s back and how he’d slid lower on the couch. His eyes flitted to the chrono on the wall, surprised to see three hours had passed. It was now mid-afternoon.

Cody was still motionless, sprawled over him. He’d managed to twist around and tuck his face against Fox’s side, one arm wrapped around Fox’s waist and tightly holding on. Fox reached for the comm link, silencing it before Cody woke. He quickly opened the message, and instantly felt his sleepiness vanish. It was a Guard-wide alert, from ‘Hero’. Fox made a mental note to check Hero’s number. He would have remembered such a name, therefore could only assume he’d gained it during Fox’s absence. He read the messages again.

Hero : Jedi approaching base

Sketch : How do you know? Nobody’s scheduled

Hero: [sent a photo]

Sketch : I’m convinced. 

Fox opened the picture. It was zoomed in, taken from the helmet cam. The photo showed the unmistakable figure of a Jedi, the long brown robes flowing down and mysterious hood over their head. The only giveaway was the lightsaber poking out from the side of the robe. Fox sighed.

“F’x?” the sleep-slurred tones rapidly drew his attention.

“Cod’ika. Go to sleep.”

“Can’t,” Cody mumbled, pawing at Fox blindly. “Can’t sleep with’t you.”

Fox bit back a chuckle, knowing for a fact Cody had been out like a light a few moments before. Sadness crept over him a little as he thought of Cody leaving again. He really saw too little of his batchmates. He cast a glance over the desk, the datapads dark and silent, forms waiting to be filled and signed. He needed to check the barracks, too, and make sure-

“Stay,” Cody drowsily murmured. Fox stilled.

Hero : He’s headed back toward the Jedi Temple now. Lost visual.

Fox gave in with another gentle tug on his wrist. He slid back down, curling against Cody. It wasn’t often he had chances like this anymore.

~

There was something he wanted to check. Obi-Wan knew he should have been in a meeting with Anakin and some other high ranking officers, but the irresistible lure drew him back toward the Coruscant Guard. He had not run across many things he couldn’t understand after consideration, but for the life of him, he couldn’t puzzle out the Corries. Their muted, subdued Force presences hung over him like a dark cloud, heavy enough that the usually empathetic-as-a-rock Anakin had noticed and asked if everything was all right. 

Obi-Wan had quickly assured him everything was fine.

Yet here he was.

Less than half a klick from the Guard headquarters, and strolling closer. He’d been unable to get a read on Fox for most of his visit the previous day, but there had been a few moments in the office, as he’d been told of Trapper’s death, that the Commander--either on purpose or accident--lowered his shields. He hadn’t been able to get much without alerting Fox that he was reading him, but the sheer turmoil of emotions and thoughts that he had gotten threw him.

Foremost of everything, two main things hung, clear enough Obi-Wan had found them without looking once Fox eased his grip on his emotions.

Protect. Fear.

Why? Obi-Wan wondered. Who or what was he protecting? What did he fear? And then there was Cody’s mysterious bond. He had to be bound to someone Force sensitive. It was the only explanation Obi-Wan could come up with.

He cast out in the Force, not expecting anything from the Guard to come up with him still at such a distance. After all, he’d had trouble locating them when he stood on their base.

Obi-Wan stopped. They were bright. He could feel them. He didn’t have to go rummaging through space and time to locate their dull Force presence anymore. He stayed motionless, wonderingly reaching out into the Force again. While still dimmer than the usual clone--he’d have to figure that out--he could feel hundreds of lives, flickering and dancing in the Force with the full gusto of life. 

A small Guard patrol rounded the corner a short distance away. The four of them trampsed with eerie coordination, and their colors and synchronization threw him for a moment before he refocused in the Force.

A few presences shone brighter than their brethren, and he gently reached toward them. He instantly recognized Cody as one, which would make the other his mystery-bonded.

Obi-Wan tentatively reached out toward it. Last time he’d gone down the bond, it had caused pain for the person. He was far more careful this time. Mental shields were up, but that guided him as only CC’s got shielding training on Kamino. He tapped at the shield, surprised when it instinctively tightened. Curious, he reached around, trying to get a feel for which Commander this was. If he had to hazard a guess, he would-

It snapped out.

Obi-Wan startled. There was no warning, or flickering as life ebbed away. His light was just gone . He moved closer to the Guard headquarters. Around him, the Force ebbed and flowed, whispering words he couldn’t catch. He stopped, his heart aching in astonishment as the rest of the Force presences began diminishing. Only Cody's stayed unwavering amidst the others. They briefly flared, and he caught a hint of fear before they began shutting down faster than he could keep track. 

The Guard was shielding.

Consciously.

Obi-Wan forced his feet into action. Like the sensitive leaves of a mimosa pudica, the entire Guard was curling in on themselves. He wondered what had prompted it. A mimosa folded up when touched. He wondered who had touched the Guard before. Shielding such as that was not learned in moments. Even Jedi sometimes had trouble wrangling their emotions down far enough for their Force presence to fade that drastically.

From the corner of his eye, he saw the Guard patrol heading down a catwalk. They were nearly out of sight, but two had stopped to adjust one’s armor.

Abruptly he stopped. 

The Guard was shielding, and somehow, the sickening feeling hit him that it was because of him. The patrol had rounded the corner, laid eyes on him, and coincidentally, the rest of the Guard began shielding.

Coincidentally?

He shuffled a little, uncharacteristically undecided. Finally he stepped back. He needed to talk to someone, to ask about this. Perhaps the Guard had more advanced shielding training due to their proximity to the Jedi temple. He turned his footsteps back.

He would be able to see Cody soon enough, and meanwhile, he had something to keep his mind occupied.

Chapter Text

“Why the sad face?”

“Wha-I’m not sad !” Obi-Wan hurriedly straightened. He frowned at the Jedi who flung himself full-length in the grass at his side. He gathered his dignity to himself with effort. “Go away, Quin. I’m meditating.”

“Riiight,” Quin nodded sagely, “With a rumpled expression like somebody’s stabbed you in the gut. What’s up?” He propped his head on his hand, planting his elbow in the luscious grass. The Temple was one of the few places of Coruscant with real, honest organic grass.

Obi-Wan let out a short huff of breath, considering. Quin could be impulsive and wild, but they’d grown up together. He knew he could trust the Shadow. “It’s the Coruscant Guard,” he sighed. “Someone is… wrong.” 

Something flashed across Quin’s face, gone as quick as it had come. He waved an encouraging hand, for once staying silent to listen. Obi-Wan forged on with difficulty, unsure how exactly to explain his feelings.

“One of my 212th members was killed in the Guard as of two days ago. The whole thing seemed a bit… off. They had no body, and the cause of death was vague. I believe he is still alive, but I see no reason for the Guard to fake his death.”

“Did you search for him in the Force?”

Obi-Wan offered a bitter smile, “I’m not that dense, Quin. Of course I did. The minute I received the news. I thought I found him, but by the time I got down to the Guard HQ, he was lost to me. Also, I got distracted by the Guard themselves.”

Quin hummed his acknowledgement, giving Obi-Wan the courage to press onward. “They were muted, quiet. I thought maybe something was, I don’t know, in the air? They were all the same, dulled in the Force. Like they were shielding, but it was exceptionally tight, entirely dampening their Force presences.”

“Force nulls can shield,” Quin calmly reminded him, “It’s just a bit harder.”

Obi-Wan rambled on, as if not even hearing Quin, “Commander Fox was so quiet . I couldn’t even ascertain it was him through the Force. Cody was by far the brightest presence there, but…” he turned to actually look at his friend, his voice dropping, “Quin, he had a Force bond.”

Quin blinked. His expressions rapidly shifted through several unreadable emotions, finally ending on ill-concealed surprise. “He’s not Force sensitive?”

Obi-Wan huffed, “No. I assume his bonded must be, but I can’t figure out who that is!” His frustration leaked into his words, an unusual occurrence for the usually calm and collected Jedi. Quin snuffed a little laugh. Obi-Wan glared at him.

“Sorry. Just, did you ask him?”

“What?”

“Just ask him. He’ll probably tell you if you’re as close as rumors state.”

“Quinlin!” Obi-Wan hurriedly looked away to hide his rising heat. “I don’t think he created the bond. It doesn't bear his fingersprints on it.”

Quin pursed his lips, “Perhaps somebody else created it?”

Obi-Wan’s eyes snapped back to Quin, “Somebody else? That’s impossible. They would have to be a Jedi to attempt it, and even then, it would be nearly impossible unless the subjects were Force sensitive. Besides, Cody’s bond is… deeper, somehow. It’s like he’s not just bonded, but his life force itself is entwined.”

There was silence for a few moments as the two considered. Abruptly, Quin launched himself to his feet. “Well, have fun with your conundrum. I’m off to-”

“Will you come with me?”

“-find Squibbles and-what?” Obi-Wan’s words caught up to him.

“Come with me to the Guard. You’re a Shadow. You’re trained to pick up ridiculously obscure details. Maybe you’ll catch something I missed. Maybe you can find Trapper.”

“Uuuh…” Quin eloquently said. He hesitated another long moment, “...all right. I’ve got.. stuff.. to do today. Tomorrow morning?”

Obi-Wan pushed down his impatience. “Wonderful. Thank you.” He settled back to attempt to meditate again, his mind much clearer after pouring out his concerns. He missed the thoughtful, troubled expression on Quin’s face as the other Jedi turned away. It was a few seconds later that his eyes snapped open.

"Quin, wait! Who's Squibbles?"

But Quin was gone.

~

Cody didn’t know what to do. He’d been mildly hurt by his battalion’s lack of empathy at him ending up in the medbay. Surely at least one person was reading reports and noticed? With this one his mind, he opened the private chat he’d created among their batch, leaving Fox out. He’d muted it to keep the copious messages under control, but now, he was truly startled to see quite how many messages there were. 

He’d intended to get on and let his batch know what Thorn had told him, of Fox missing, of the blackout missions, of all of it. Things had moved too fast, and it had slipped his mind when Fox appeared on base. Now, he lazily spun in Fox’s chair while the chair’s owner was off doing something he hadn’t cared to share with Cody.

He scrolled up for a while before pausing as something caught his eye. 

Wolffe : @Vod’ika

Wolffe : @Vod’ika

Wolffe : @Vod’ika

Not a Lake: lay off he’s obviously busy right now

Wollfe : He’s always busy :(

Bly : What do you need?

Wolffe: wanted to see how Fox is 

Wollfe : I mean srsly. Cody says somethings up and then he vanishes?

Vod’ika: I’m not gone. Just busy

Cody gaped at the message from ‘him’. He checked the date, realizing it had been sent while he was unconscious. He quickly scrolled down through the good-natured bantering from his batchmates that slowly petered out as “Cody” didn’t answer again. He paused at a longer message from Bly.

Bly : I’m sure he’s fine. He literally just said he was busy. Besides, I check the after-action reports and nothing’s come through on him. If something happened to a Marshal Commander, there would be paperwork. However, there’s no negative reports. Besides, he’s on Coruscant. I know he said its weird, but weird isn’t dangerous. He’ll get back to us on Fox as soon as he knows more.

The replies were reluctant agreements. Cody frowned at the comm. No reports? That would explain the 212th's lack of concern, as well as his General's apathy. He flicked his datapad on and logged on to check. While it loaded, he debated answering his brothers, but decided against it. Saying something now would rain questions down on his head, and he didn’t have all the answers. There was no point in worrying or distracting his brothers when they had thousands of lives resting on their decisions during battle. His datapad chirped and opened the reports section.

There were no reports.

The last thing filed from the Guard was a small, obscure report, nearly buried amidst battle reports from the front. Cody opened, noting it was signed by Thire. It was the official, temporary transfer of duties from Marshal Commander Fox to Marshal Commander Cody. There was nothing implying why such a transfer had been necessary.

Cody shoved himself from the chair. He was about to express his displease--knowing Fox could feel it--when a wash of trepidation suddenly swept him. He blinked, quickly balancing himself again. He’d felt many things from his brother, but never outright fear . He bounded for the door. Bursting into the hallway, he smacked straight into Fox.

Both reeled back, surprised. 

“Fox!” Cody recovered first, “Why are there no-”

“Later, Cody,” Fox snapped. He pushed past Cody and was at his desk in two swift strides. A moment of rooting around produced two sheets of flimsi and a datapad. Cody stared in astonishment as Fox wheeled back toward the door. He hesitated a moment, softening. “I was requested by the Chancellor for debriefing. Go talk to Thorn about your questions.”

“Right,” Cody stammered out. Fox swept from the room, his crisp steps ringing in the silent hall as he vanished. Cody frowned after him. Fox in a hurry wasn’t unusual. It seemed his ori’vod was always in a hurry. But Fox angrily snapping? Fox acting tense and anxious? 

Cody tracked down Thorn, determined to not get too distracted from his chosen task. One thing at a time, he reasoned. Find Trapper or sufficient proof of his demise, figure out why no reports were being filed, figure out why Fox was suddenly so tense, figure out why the Guard was so quiet in the last 24 hours, and get ahold of his General to see if he could get help from that quarter. He breathed out a little sigh. Just a list, like any other list, he told himself, Don’t pay attention to the fact you are emotionally attached to everything on the list.

Thorn was in the Commanders’ office, just come off shift. His armor was dirty, but he didn’t seem to care as he hunched over the desk. Sergeant Hound was at a desk marked “Thire”, and glanced up curiously at Cody before returning to his project. Thorn wearily looked over Cody.

“How can I help you, Commander?”

“Fox said you’d answer my questions.”

Thorn raised an eyebrow, then gestured for him to continue. Cody nudged a few things aside and perched on the edge of the desk. “I want to know why no after-action reports are filed. There’s nothing in the GAR reports about Commander Fox’s injuries, being missing, about any of it.”

Thorn made a face, “That’s because according to GAR standards, the Coruscant Guard doesn’t get action, Commander,” he spoke calmly. “Our reports are internal, not necessary to be released to the general GAR unless it directly affects them or the war effort. Will that be all, sir?”

Cody hesitated. There was something about the wording of that. He flicked a look at Thorn. “Not necessary, or not allowed ?”

Thorn’s breath hitched. It was a miniscule tell, but Cody’s rapid eyes caught it. He also noted that Hound had quit working, and was staring at the two of them with an indecipherable expression as he shamelessly eavesdropped. Cody tilted his head. The silent prompting did more for Thorn than if Cody had shouted and begged. Nevertheless, the words seemed reluctantly dragged from him.

“Not… allowed, sir.”

“By who?”

Thorn’s eyes flickered to the side, as if seeking an escape. Hound’s expression had grown more wary and shocked, the hand resting over his piece of flimsi twitching anxiously. Cody patiently waited.

“Nobody is going to hurt you, Thorn,” he murmured, “I have a whole battalion who would drop their posts and come running if I called.”

“Confidential,” Thorn abruptly hissed, “You must never tell anyone!”

Hound’s mouth dropped open, hand anxiously curling a little around his flimsi, but Thorn had made up his mind. 

“It’s the Chancellor, sir. He says the Guard should be separate, so as not to burden the GAR, who’re involved with the war. We keep internal affairs internal. The Guard is a self-contained, self-standing unit.”

A soft crunch sounded as Hound crumpled his flimsi.

“Surely the Marshal Commander going missing for two weeks is not merely an ‘internal’ affair?” Cody shoved down his anger for later. He wasn’t angry at Thorn, and in his mind, he could all too vividly see Sketch flinching back against the wall when Cody exploded at him. He kept his tone even and quiet.

Thorn straightened a little at the question, something stronger coming in his voice, “Fox has been taking hits for us for years. It’s about time we returned the favor.”

Cody cocked his head, “What does that mean?”

“..oh...shiny…” Hound breathed. Thorn’s gaze briefly glanced off the Sergeant before focusing back on Cody.

“The only thing the Chancellor hates worse than the Guard not standing up to the correct standards is when our mistakes become known. Fox keeps the Guard running, deflecting or taking what he can off the others, holding us together and saving those he can. If it were to get out that he had gone missing, the Chancellor would have been very upset, and taken the majority of it out on Fox when he returned.”

“Then why did you call me?” Cody was taking full advantage of Thorn’s open mood. “Isn’t somebody else coming in technically letting the news get out?”

Thorn scowled, then wilted a little, “We were falling behind. Thire decided it was better to chance it with an outsider than fall under the standard. I..” he hesitated, now picking his words carefully, “I did not agree at the time. However, your presence allowed us to continue searches as well as keeping to the correct standard. We weren’t too worried about you telling ‘cause Sketch sliced your comm so he could keep an eye on that.” Thorn grimaced as he realized he’d slipped up. “It was you, or let our standard fall, which we will not allow.” Fire flashed in his eyes, and his fists clenched.

Cody grimaced himself at the realization of who had tricked his batchmates into thinking it was continued peace over here. He carefully set aside his sickening feeling at the “standard” and withheld his question of what would happen if the standard “fell”. He glanced briefly at Hound. The Sergeant had recovered his wits, and now sat with his chin propped in his hands, thoroughly engaged in the conversation.

“The Chancellor is over the Guard?”

“Yes sir.” Thorn dropped his eyes.

Cody swore softly, shoving off the desk to pace. “Fox just went to see the Chancellor! We have to-”

“No!” Thorn’s snapped out words froze Cody where he stood. His tone softened, “Intervention in a debriefing is not taken kindly. We just have to wait for Fox to come back. Sketch is watching the cameras outside the Chancellor’s office. He’ll notify us if anything goes wrong.”

Cody bit his lip, anxiously pacing about. He stopped, closing his eyes and reaching for Fox across their bond. He frowned. Fox had obviously been working on blocking him, for he could feel nothing. His eyes snapped open and he looked at Thorn again.

“What else do I not know?”

Thorn’s face fell into a frighteningly neutral expression, “You’ll have to talk to Fox on that,” he carefully said. 

“Trapper? Is he alive? Why did he get a decommissioning request?”

Thorn shook his head, “I’ve already told you too much.”

“He stepped out of line in front of a senator,” Hound spoke up. Cody whipped toward the previously-silent clone. “He was defending Alec.”

“Shoulda kept it to himself,” Thorn growled, “He nearly got them both decommissioned.”

Cody stared between the two of them. “When is Fox getting back?”

Thorn offered him that maddeningly blank look again, “We never know about meetings with the Chancellor,” he cooly said. Cody let out a strangled little groan. Spinning on his heel, he marched from the room. Thorn reached for his comm.

“Tally, come in.”

“ This is Tally’s comm. How may it help you? ”

Thorn made a face, “Well, considering I called Tally , I expected his comm to be attached.”

There was a grumbled huff, “ You’re no fun, Commander. He’s in the safe room. I’ll get him. Hold on. ”

Thorn waited patiently. All the vode quickly discovered their comms didn’t work in the special place, and as a result delegated whoever was patrolling that area to keep an eye on their devices. From the voice, it sounded like Zinc had pulled the lucky position today. It was infinitely better than patrolling outside the base. 

Fox had debated cutting the internal patrols, but after several vod privately approached him and informed him of how much safer it made them feel to know there was a brother watching their back--even within the base--he’d kept it up. After all, it only took six men every twenty-four hours, a small price to pay for the Guard to be able to freely relax and feel truly safe.

“ Oiya, I found-”

“ This is Tally ,” the crisp tone cut in. He was less than a minute in waiting, but Thorn detected the hint of roughness to Tally’s voice, and felt a pang of regret at having woken him. 

“The Commander just stormed out of our office. Are you occupied?”

There was a low curse on the other end, “ I’ll intercept and escort.”

Thorn smiled, “Thanks, Tally. You’re the best, vod.”

There was another mumbled complaint as Tally signed off. Hound was grinning. “He’s like one of few who isn’t scared of the Commander,” he observed with a smile in his tone. “Maybe we need to braven our boys up a little.”

“Shut up,” Thorn good-naturedly ordered, “We’ve got the bravest, best boys in the whole clone army.”

~

“I’ve gotta go,” Tally popped back in the little door, startling everyone present. Well, everyone awake. He pointed with a stern scowl. “You. Stay.”

Trapper stared back with an innocent blink that had Tally scoffing. He ducked out, vanishing. Trapper’s gaze slid speculative toward Ringer and Alec, who were playing cards. The latter scowled darkly at him while the former rolled his eyes.

“You’ve tried that, remember?” Alec sighed. Trapper sighed. Ringer snickered. 

“Well, I thought maybe something’s changed,” Trapper excused himself. A fond smile tugged at Alec’s lips. They kept their voices down, courtesy of the little pile of vode who’d sought refuge in the safest place they knew and now all quietly snored together.

“You’re one of us now. Either one of us, or dead. We’ve gone over this.”

“A looooot…” Spike groaned. Face buried in a pillow, his words were muffled, but still understandable. 

“You even painted your armor!” Ringer encouraged, gesturing toward the amor. Trapper’s expression wilted a little.

“Yeah,” he agreed a bit wistfully. He’d awakened in the safe room, his armor scrubbed a slate white and bearing the identical Coruscant Guard paint. When he stormed up a protest, Fox himself had shown up. He’d first apologized for shooting Trapper, which threw the scout’s whole list of complaints off skew. He had then proceeded to inform the bewildered Trapper that he was no longer “Trapper, scout of the 212th” but now a Corrie. He’d been officially marked dead, and his superiors notified. He needed a new name. He’d go on shift as soon as the other Corries had him “adjusted” correctly. 

Trapper had quickly learned what “adjusted” meant. “Blenderized” according to Alec. He’d been shown how to walk, how to hold himself, how to talk. 

“You won’t get out of here until you can fool two out of four Commanders,” Alec had explained, not unkindly. “It’s a matter of safety.” 

Trapper didn’t want ‘safe’. He wanted normal. He wanted to walk out and greet his own Commander, to jest with his brothers, to talk to his batchmates. He admitted to growing love for the vode in the Guard, but it wasn’t where he belonged.

The two card-players glanced at each other at the soulful little sigh. Ringer scooted sideways.

“Get over here before you pout a hole through the floor.”

Trapper obediently shifted, opting to crawl the few feet and squeeze between his two friends. Ringer flipped his fingers over the cards, snatching Alec’s from him. Alec let out a squeak of protest as Ringer shoved them all together and shuffled.

“You can’t play Solitaire with three,” Ringer reminded him.

Trapper frowned. “...you can’t play solitaire with two either…” He glanced between them, “It’s in the name. Soli taire.”

Ringer shrugged, “Eh. It works.”

“Does not,” Spike interjected. He rolled over to watch. “The only reason you think it works is because you’re both cheating so much that neither of you truly know what you’re supposed to be doing.”

Trapper grinned, “Cheating, huh?”

Spike let out a loud groan, drawing a few mutters and a small stir from the vod-pile. Giving up, Spike buried his face in the pillows again. Fine. Let the three of them horribly cheat their way through cards. He would be waiting to pick up the pieces when the card game inevitably fell apart.

He sneaked a peek at Trapper again. The scout had visibly brightened. Spike turned back to his pillow. Well, at least Ringer and Alec’s distraction technique worked.

Chapter Text

Fox tried to ignore the vicious pounding in his head as he made his way down another of the endless corridors. He felt empty, like his mind had nothing left in it but agony and some distant, blurred thoughts. He blindly made a right turn before he smacked into the wall as some part of his mind registered the corridor’s ending. There were truly too many corridors. He faintly registered his HUD alerting him of incoming messages. He found himself wondering what they wanted. They were incredibly persistent. He took another right turn.

Who was it that had told him to always take rights when he was lost? He couldn’t remember. It seemed like a foolish strategy.

Was he lost? He actually stopped at that, hesitating as his muddled mind worked through the problem he’d stumbled upon.

“ Commander Fox. ”

Fox jerked as if shot. His dazed eyes sharpened a fraction, darting up and down the hall. He stood alone.

“ Commander Fox, this is Sketch, on your comms.”

Oh. His comms. Of course. Sketch’s voice inflamed his headache, and he let out a soft hiss of pain. The clone was still talking.

“ Keikr’s coming to get you, but you need to stay put.”

Why? 

“ Because something is wrong, sir, and you’re headed for a high-traffic hallway if you continue taking right turns.”

Oh. It seemed he’d asked that aloud. He stepped sideways, settling himself at the side of the hall in parade rest. Wait. He could wait. He trusted his Guard. Some distant part of himself pushed and needled, encouraging him to obey Sketch’s instructions. He wondered why.

He clenched his teeth, squeezing his eyes shut in an attempt to ease the raging pain in his head. It felt like something missing, and he hated it, even though he couldn’t pin down what was missing.

He nearly startled clean out of his armor when something tapped his helmet. As it was, he ended up stiffening in an attempt to not shy sideways before his eyes got open and he recognized the figure patiently waiting. He let out a ragged little exhale.

“Is he responding yet?”

The Corrie figure tilted their head at Fox, reaching out to tap three times on his chestplate. Fox’s rigid posture eased. It was a familiar, grounding motion.

“Keikr?” Fox muttered. The relieved slump in his medic’s shoulders told him all he needed to know. The distinctive medic’s symbol on his pauldron was missing, swapped out, Fox knew. It wouldn’t do to have a medic seen walking the halls of the senate building. 

“ Yeah, I’m here ,” Keikr replied, his tone soothing even over in-bucket comms. “Sketch’s got us hooked on a three-way comm, and he’s watching the cameras to let us know if anyone’s approaching. We’re safe.”

“Does that mean he’s all right?” Sketch’s anxious tone demanded. Keikr’s helmet did a little movement that Fox connected with rolling his eyes.

“ Yes, he’s AOx4. ”

There was silence momentarily from the comms. Fox suspiciously eyed Keikr.

“I’m what?”

“ He’s what ?”

They spoke at the same time. Fox winced as the overlap staticed, the noise blaring against his overly sensitive ears.

“ He’ll be fine, ” Keikr huffed. He knew better than to take Fox’s helmet off in the senate building. “ Talk to me, Fox. What do you need?’

Fox carefully waded through the request, fighting back another vicious wave of pain. White fringed his vision at the sensation. “Painkiller,” he decided. 

Keikr already had it on hand. “ Migraine? ”

Fox nodded, grimacing at the flare-up produced by the movement. He slid back a little, mentally stepping away from the pain. He was scarcely aware when Keikr unsealed his helmet and slid it up just far enough to inject the painkiller. Sketch said something, his voice faint and muffled. Fox focused on staying on his feet, his subconscious registering his vod beside him and telling him he could afford to relax his alertness a little. Keikr had a hand wrapped firmly around his elbow, gently tugging him to walk. He didn’t know if he followed or not.

His head hurt . It felt like building pressure, and he briefly wondered if Cody had a headache as well. He reached for his brother, for the comforting light that always eased his pain and exhaustion. Instantly he recoiled, mind shrieking in protest as pain seized up his muscles. It was like smacking headfirst into an electrified, invisible shield, and then getting smashed by a rancor.

“Fox?” Keikr’s visor whipped around to his Commander as he suddenly tensed, then staggered alarmingly. Keikr stepped closer, supporting him when he would have collapsed. “Sketch-”

“ You’re clear ,” the easy tone replied, worry ill-concealed. “ Not for long though. ” 

Keikr did a quick triple tap on Fox’s chestplate, getting no response. He dug up a stim from his bare-essential pouch, giving it to Fox to still the little tremors shaking him. He could hear the raspy little gasps as Fox struggled to breath over the pain. 

“Heads up, ” Sketch murmured.

Keikr took Fox’s elbow, once more guiding him forward. A senator and aid rounded the far corner. Keikr offered a polite nod, trying to grip Fox in such a way that it didn’t look like he was supporting him. Senators didn’t take kindly to shows of weakness from the clones.

Keikr worried at his lip, his mind racing over scenarios. It wasn’t uncommon for Fox to get headaches after visiting the Chancellor, but migraines were uncommon outside of blackout missions. He fussed to himself as they approached the Guard headquarters, punching in the quick code to a side door. Few people knew of the door beyond the Guard, and the code ensured nobody just strolled in. 

Fox had quit leaning on him by the time they were in the base. His steps were a little perkier, too. Keikr hesitantly let go of his elbow, ready to leap to the rescue if he tried to fall over. To his relief, his Commander stayed hale and upright. He flipped from bucket comms to external speakers to cut Sketch from the conversation. There was no need for others to know more than necessary of their Commander’s health.

“Fox, sitrep?”

There was a grin to Fox’s voice as he glanced over at his medic, also switching to external. “Usually I’m the one asking that. I feel fine.” He hastily raised a hand as Keikr prepared to argue, “Honestly! I think it was something with Cody. I couldn’t feel him before, but now I can again and as weird as it sounds, I think it's making the headache go away.”

“Oh, so its a ‘headache’ instead of a migraine now?” Keikr crossed his arms. “And maybe it's less ‘Cody’ and more ‘stim and painkiller’ that’s helping?” Fox shrugged. Keikr sighed dismally. He wouldn’t even attempt to fully understand everything that had happened between Fox and Cody, merely recognizing that it delved not only beyond his pay grade, but beyond the paygrade of every single medic he knew. Fox and Cody themselves would have to figure it out, and Keikr would content himself to merely monitor their physical health. 

“Well, it does check out,” Keikr decided. “After all, somehow you became not-dying, and he played a part. How did the meeting go?”

Fox hesitated, then frowned. Keikr, unable to see his expression, patiently waited, keeping pace beside him as they walked. Finally Fox confessed in a puzzled tone, “I.. don’t know. I-I… yeah.”

Keikr tossed him a sharp look. “A short blackout?”

“I guess…” Fox mumbled. His comm blinked, and a sour-sounding Sketch immediately double-checked that they were indeed within the base and he was clear to resume his previous duties. Keikr offered the nearest camera a thumbs up. Fox followed a more traditional approach and verbally released the front-desk clone back to his work. Keikr excused himself back to the medbay, not bothering to give Fox the Medbay Lecture. He’d heard it enough he could probably repeat it back to Keikr word for word.

Fox went straight for his office. He vaguely recalled sending Cody to talk to Thorn, and now it made him wince. He shouldn’t have done that. Cody was an inquisitive vod’ika, and if he decided to investigate something--like a beehive--he would get stung. Fox’s lips twitched in a faint smile as he remembered five-year old Cody coming wailing to his older brothers after he literally poked his nose where it didn’t belong, and quite literally got stung. He had thought he was dying. Naively, the whole batch had come to that unanimous conclusion upon laying eyes on their sobbing, puffy-nosed brother.

Now, Cody’s emotions were a stormy mess, but somehow well-defined and crisp. The longer Fox walked, the more he realized the blinding headache had been brought on not from overstimulation from Cody, but rather a total lack of Cody. The idea that the Chancellor had a blocker of some sort sat uneasy with him, but he pushed it aside for later. He’d gone over and around many, many options for getting out of the Chancellor’s clutches, and turned down each one. This was just another thing to add to the growing list of-

“Fox!” 

Fox startled for the second time in less than an hour, nearly drawing his blaster before his eyes caught up and registered the orange armor on the menace that pounced on him. “Cody! What the kriff!” He shoved his little brother back from where he pinned him against the wall. Cody stepped back willingly.

“I need to talk to you!”

“Maybe do that without dropping from the ceiling in front of me?” Fox hesitated, eyes flitting up. “Uh, how did you get up there?”

Cody waved a hand, “Not important. I have questions, ori’vod. I want answers.”

Fox forgot about the Cody-in-the-ceiling mystery, warily eying his little brother. He jerked his head toward his office. He tapped in the code when they arrived, waving a tense Cody in front of him. He strolled up to his desk, leaning against it and pulling his helmet off. His expression was open, inviting Cody’s questions.

Inside, he wrapped an iron grip on his emotions and willpower, knowing from the get-go he would tell his vod’ika little as possible to protect him. The headache had dulled down to normal standards, and for that he was grateful. 

“What’s wrong with the Guard?”

Oh, hitting it head-on, was he? Fox rolled his eyes, “Nothing’s wrong with the Guard, Cody.”

“Besides the fact one of my men got murdered after less than two weeks of working here?”

Fox noticeably stiffened. “I’ll admit the Guard is not the cushy posting most of you front liners’ seem to think it is. Your man, however, was outside my jurisdiction. He shouldn’t have attacked a senator. I take it that most of your men don’t go about attacking their superiors or their Jedi?” His voice was underlined with a hint of steel.

“My men don’t attack our Jedi because the Jedi are good . They don’t mistreat and ignore us, or treat us as-as-as meatdroids! The Jedi are good!”

“Oh, are they ?” Fox sneered, his odd tone throwing Cody. “Horray for them.” He decisively turned away, reeking of anger. Cody hesitated, wondering what exactly of that had triggered Fox. He changed his approach a little.

“Fox, are you ok?”

The answer should be no, he thought.

“Of course,” came the immediate, snappish response. However, Fox shifted back to face Cody, something akin to regret flitting across his face. Momentary silence reigned, then Fox sighed. “Look, I’m sorry. I’m glad your Jedi are good,” he seemed to choke on the words slightly, “I’m glad they treat you well. That’s.. I’m pleased to hear it.”

Cody observed him quietly, as if Fox was the most interesting puzzle he’d laid eyes on. “Fox, why are there no Guard reports on the GAR mainstream?”

Fox raised an eyebrow, his reply confident, “Because the Guard is a self-contained, self-standing unit. We keep iInternal affairs internal in order to not distract from the main war effort.”

Cody’s breath caught at how similar--nearly exact--Fox’s words were to Thorn’s explanation. He shoved it aside with the growing pile of “consider later” and moved on. “There are no reports filed!” Cody emphasized, “Usually there are casualty reports after every battle. The injured, the supplies. Everything is cataloged.” His eyes tracked Fox’s stoic, almost bored posture. He was still resting a hip against the desk, arms crossed lazily. Cody switched tack, “How many times have you been in the medbay and never told us?”

Fox’s eyes narrowed angrily, his silence more telling than if he’d spoken. Cody closed his eyes and let out a slow, measured breath. Finally he opened them again. “Look, Fox. We’re going to help you. Help the Guard.

“We?” Fox’s tone was more guarded than a child protected by a squad of Jedi. 

Cody nodded decisively, “I commed General Kenobi, and told him some of what’s going on. He’s coming down here to personally talk to us as soon as he gets out of a council meeting.”

Fox’s reaction was instantaneous. His eyes flared as he jolted in alarm. The next instant he shut down, and Cody flinched at the slam of anger and fear . “What have you done?” Fox snarled. His hands clenched at his sides as he stepped toward Cody threateningly.

“I’m getting my vod and his di’kulta Guard some help. Can’t you see? You can’t keep going like this, you or’dini !”

“I’m not the fool,” Fox hissed. “I keep my men safe. You’re bringing terror down on our heads.”

“You don’t understand!” Cody snapped back, “This is not normal. You-”

“I don’t give a kriff if it's normal or not.” Fox jabbed a finger in Cody’s chest, but he refused to step back. “It is what it is. If I step out of bounds, I lose my men. The shinies catch the consequences, and I can’t stop it . I can’t be there when an assassin drops from the sky and breaks their neck, or a bomb goes off in the middle of a squad. I was helpless when Nathaniel was sniped right in front of me. I wasn’t there when Rain was tortured to death. I couldn’t help Mark when he was drowned in his own blood . He was Tally’s batchmate. Did you know that? Everytime I see Tally, the death of his vod’ika hangs over me. Yet he’s forgiven me. They’ve all forgiven me. All I can do in return is come to heel like a good Republic dog.” Fox’s words snapped out, each bitten off with anger Cody had only once before seen from Fox. His breath came in sharp little gaps. Cody stared in silence, his mind struggling to come to terms with Fox’s words.

Fox whirled away from Cody, standing rigid and motionless for a moment. The turmoil of both their emotions bounced between them, blending seamlessly until neither was quite sure who was truly feeling what. Fox began speaking again, his voice low. He didn’t turn back around.

“It was the first week for Tally and Mark, and I stepped out of line. Four shinies died the next day. Died horrible, gruesome deaths. I try. I try so hard, Cody. I can’t save them all. I’m risking it for Trapper. He’s one of yours. I couldn’t let your man, under my protection, be killed. As long as he keeps his head down, he’ll be safe.”

Trapper was alive, Cody thought with a victorious surge. It was quickly dwarfed, however, by Fox’s confession. He was wavering, shaking a little. Cody was almost sure he hadn’t intended to spill all that when he first started talking. Cody reached out, wrapping his arms around Fox in a gentle hug from behind. For a moment, Fox stiffened suspiciously against the hold, then he relaxed. Cody tugged them both sideways, sinking down on the couch. Fox followed without resistance, as if he’d lost all his fight. Cody rested his chin on Fox’s shoulder, not letting up the hug; Fox was leaning back into him.

“Why haven’t you gone for help?” Cody asked softly. “To us. To the Jedi. To anyone.”

Fox laughed wetly. “I have, Cody.” He groaned, burying his head in his hands. Apparently, he decided to spill it all, now that Cody had gotten an abrupt introduction to the hell that was the Coruscant Guard. Cody listened quietly, tightening his arms to remind Fox that he wasn’t alone anymore.

“In the first year of the war, I tried. I went to the Jedi, first. They promised to talk to the Chancellor. They did, too. I saw them. I was so naive, I thought things would improve. The Chancellor pulled up his sweet charm and fooled them all back to their plush Temple,” his tone was bitter. “Then he turned on us.” Fox shuddered, unable to speak out the punishment that had befallen the Guard. “I went back to the Jedi, to see why they weren’t helping. They thought I was lying to them. I was given a dressing down for accusing the Chancellor, but I begged. I begged them to come look at the barracks, to see how we lived. To see everything wrong. The Chancellor got wind. Cody-” Fox’s voice broke, and he leaned into Cody with a choked off cry. “-it was awful. He assigned a whole squad for immediate decommissioning, and had the paperwork ready for a whole platoon. I saw it, signed and ready. We didn’t dare disobey. The Jedi told me off for lying to them again. They haven’t looked at the Guard since.”

Until Kenobi showed up, was the unspoken addition.

Cody felt another chill run through him. He thought he’d run out of horrified shudders. Nine Corries dead at the flick of the Chancellor’s wrist. Thirty-six more with death hanging over their heads. He hugged Fox tighter, gently rocking them both. Fox was determined to keep going, not matter how much pain he relived in the process. 

“That wasn’t the worst. The platoon, I split everyone up and scattered the whole platoon to try and hide them. We changed our paint to identical. We tried to keep them safe. But something, someone , picked them off. Accidents, missing, outright murder. They were all gone within two months, and I couldn’t do a thing about it. Nobody knew of the Chancellor’s decommissioning threats, so nobody would believe me if I compiled the reports of their death. It was just a ‘bad time’ for the Guard, they’d say. The Jedi lost faith in the Guard. After that, I didn’t dare tell you or the others about it. He would just find a way to kill you, too, as well as punishing my Guards. I can’t lose my batch, Cody. I can’t lose you all, knowing I’m responsible. And nobody can help us without me losing Corries. Good, faithful men. Their only fault is being stationed under me….” Fox lost his momentum and trailed off.

Cody drew a deep breath, trying to hide his slight trembling. He couldn’t tell if the rage and pain surging through him belonged to him or Fox. His brother was eerily silent after the tirade, slumped back against Cody as if all his strength was gone.

“We’re going to fix this,” Cody murmured. Fox weakly shook his head. 

“I can’t risk-”

“No,” Cody said firmly, arms tightening around Fox. “We are going to fix this . And we’re not going to lose your Corries while we’re at it. There’s been enough deaths and suffering. We’ll do what we have to. General Kenobi is on the council. He’ll help. I know. We’ll fix this, Fox. Trust me.”

Chapter Text

“This is a Bad idea,” Quin grumbled. “That’s a capital ‘b’ by the way.”

Obi-Wan grinned. “Come on, Quin. I thought you liked investigating?”

Quin grumbled something under his breath, and Obi-Wan shot him a curious look. It was unlike his friend to be hesitant when jumping into prospective trouble. When he broached the subject, he was brushed off with an embarrassingly flimsy excuse. He’d rolled his eyes, knowing that Quin’s lying skills were phenomenal, and he was merely not putting the effort in. 

“Fine, be that way,” he huffed, mood slightly dampened by Quin’s sour responses. Cody had sent him a comm earlier, cryptically stating they had a lot to talk about, but they needed to be in person. Curiosity piqued, Obi-Wan had hustled Quin out of the temple much earlier than the Shadow had agreed on.

A copy-pasted Corrie met them at the front desk. He saluted politely to them both. “Marshal Commander Cody has requested you both be brought to Commander Fox’s office.” His words were crisp and polite. A gentle brush in the Force proved he was locked down tightly, as was the clone pointedly ignoring them from behind the broad desk.

“Thank you….” Obi-Wan graciously smiled, “I’m sorry, what’s your name?”

“CT-4781, sir.” The clone turned on his heel before either could ask for his word-name. 

Obi-Wan shrugged, moving to follow. The Guard kept a few steps in front, and Obi-Wan thought he almost looked like he was trying to hurry without seeming to be. The halls were a little more busy this time. They passed two other Guards, walking in perfect tandem. They stood aside as the two Jedi were led past. 

Obi-Wan’s eyes flicked over them, trying to see any physical difference, but the pair were exactly identical. Somebody popped out of a doorway ahead. They hesitated at the sight of the Jedi, but looked toward ‘81. For a moment, they just stared at each other, and Obi-Wan realized they were on internal comms. His men rarely used internal, prefering to include their non-helmeted comrades--mainly their Jedi--on the conversations.

“Excuse me for a moment, Generals,” ‘81 spoke apologetically. “I must see to this. I will be back in one moment.”

“Of course. Take your time, we’re in no hurry.” Obi-Wan offered the man a friendly smile, receiving a curt nod in return as the Guard vanished through the doorway. He instantly turned to Quin. “Feel how quiet they are?”

“They’re afraid of us,” Quin murmured. Obi-Wan’s eyes widened a fraction of an inch. His mind leaped ahead, slotting the pieces into the puzzle. The dampening of their Force presence was such an unusual measure of shielding, it could only be achieved by harnessing strong emotions. What better motive for hiding than fear of being found?

“Of course…” He flicked his gaze around, keeping his voice low, “Why didn’t I think of that?”

“I come across it more.” Quin shrugged. “You're a diplomat, whereas I often interact with people who are fearful or angry.” He was appearing to be relaxing from his tense state.

Obi-Wan closed his eyes and reached out for Cody. His Commander was a bright star amidst the darkness. He brushed against Quin, feeling a reciprocating little shove in the Force. “Feel Cody?” An affirmative drifted to him. “See if you can Jedi-Shadow your way into figuring out who his bonded is.”

“Fox,” the reply was almost instantaneous. Obi-Wan’s eyes snapped open.

“Commander Fox?”

Quin nodded, eyes still shut. Obi-Wan speculatively considered. “My Commander is bonded to Commander Fox?” It wasn’t that far out, he realized. He’d heard Cody mention that he had a batchmate in the Coruscant Guard Command. He abruptly frowned, suspiciously eyeing Quin. “How did you figure that so quickly?”

“Generals.” The respectful tone drew both their attention. Quin’s eyes flitted open. A Corrie stood before them. “Thank you for your patience. I am ready whenever you are.”

“Lead on.” Obi-Wan motioned. The Guard nodded shortly and turned. Obi-Wan automatically brushed over his Force presence, and froze. This was a different Guard. He wouldn’t have even known if it wasn’t for the Force. He glanced quickly at Quin, who blithely marched after their guide. Obi-Wan sighed and followed. 

~

Cody watched from the couch as Fox paced. It was truly astonishing how worked-up his batchmate could get in such a small space. He sighed, leaning back on the couch and draping an arm over his eyes.

“Fox.”

“What?” The irritable snap inevitably returned.

“Pacing.”

The pacing ceased. Cody cracked an eye open. Fox, fully armored besides his helmet, stood near the desk. He picked up a datapad, then set it back down. For a moment, he appeared to be considering gnawing on his nails. Vibrating with indecision, he abruptly wheeled and marched the three steps to the far wall. Cody groaned. He let his eyes fall shut, listening to the rhythmic thumping of Fox’s boots.

Thump, thud. Thump, thud. Thump, thud. Thump, thud. Scuffle --that was the turn-- thunk . Thump, thud. Thump, thud.

Why was he limping? Cody wondered. "Fox."

“Hmm?”

“Com’ere.”

T he endless footsteps ceased. Cody patted the seat beside him alluringly. “Come on. I don’t bite.”

“Yes, you do.” Fox immediately replied. The couch dipped beside Cody anyway. 

Cody hummed thoughtfully, “No. Wolffe bites. I never bite. I’m civilized .”

A disbelieving snort came from Fox. Yet Cody could feel the tension from his brother fading a little at the familiar banter. Silence reigned for another moment. Fox began nervously shifting a little.

“Fox.”

He felt Fox still and look toward him expectantly.

“When you think of Jedi, what comes to mind?”

There was a thoughtful pause before Fox replied, “Irresponsible, selfish, dangerous, meddling. Inexperienced, haughty. Uh… busy. Curt. Mysterious. Unhelpful. Dangerous.”

Cody frowned. He moved his arm off his eyes to look at Fox. The defiant expression was all he needed to see. He sighed. “Fox, may I..” he hesitated, “I want to show you. I think we can do that, over our bond, if you’ll let down your walls. ”

Fox stiffened.

“I promise I won’t lose control. We won’t drop into a feedback loop or anything. I just want to show you what I think of Jedi. I can feel you, but you’re muffled. You’re trying to block me. Trust me, Fox.” He scooted forward, shifting to face Fox as he spoke earnestly. He took Fox’s hands. Fox looked down at their joined hands, his fingers automatically curling over Cody’s in a protective manner. His eyes flickered shut as he focused.

Cody’s breath hitched a little as he felt the tightened walls between them edge down. He drew in a deep breath, steadying himself and keeping his emotions calm. Fox’s gloved hands in his own were a grounding influence. Light and color raced by, sweeping him in a dizzying rush of adrenaline. He felt Fox’s hands tense, gripping him so tightly it was almost painful.

The emotions ebbed. Like a held-back wave, they swept up and over Cody before dripping off and leaving him saturated with Fox’s every feeling and fear. He forced himself to draw in another breath, relaxing his mind and body. 

“Happy?”

Cody blinked his eyes open, not even knowing when they’d shut. He studied Fox, noticing the tense edge to his face had softened. His hands had relaxed their death-grip, just loosely curled over Cody’s. Cody considered the question.

“Yes,” he finally said. 

“Good.” Fox let out a little breath, and Cody felt anxiety slowly leeching away. He frowned as an odd feeling came over him, realizing abruptly that it was Fox closing down again.

“Fox, it’s ok.” He gave their joined hands a little squeeze. “Trust me.”

“I-I am,” Fox muttered. The odd sensation vanished. “It’s just hard to…” Cody let him search for words, feeling the confusion and hesitance. “..hard to let myself feel. It’s easier to just not.”

“Not feel?”

Fox nodded. “It ensures there’s no mistakes.” He ducked his head, something akin to shame flooding Cody. He settled for pushing love and reassurance out, a smile touching his lips as he caught Fox’s blush. A moment later, anxiety spiked between them.

“Ok,” Fox sounded like he was bracing himself, “Show me why I should trust the Jedi.”

Cody smirked. He closed his eyes, directing his thoughts toward his General. He didn’t know how to do this, but figured it shouldn’t be too hard. He focused on his feelings of the Jedi, all the good and positive thoughts he could muster.

The victory after a hard-fought battle, the strength Kenobi inspired as he led his men, the burst of warmth when the Jedi refused plans on grounds of losing too many troops. The sight of Kenobi leaping in front of a medic to provide cover when he refused to take cover while treating someone. The rush of gratitude and concern when Kenobi pulled a dumb stunt that somehow saved lives, and didn’t kill him in the process. The quiet amusement as Kenobi mingled with the troops. The feeling as he was taken to medbay, knowing Kenobi would care for his men while he was out. 

Cody let his eyes drift open. Fox’s tension had eased. His eyes were closed still, something akin to peace on his face. Feeling Cody’s amusement, his eyes snapped open. He sheepishly smiled.

“I… I like that,” he reluctantly admitted, “You trust your Jedi with your life.”

Cody nodded. Fox’s peace was drifting over them both, and he grinned at his older brother.

~

Obi-Wan cocked his head curiously. He could feel both Cody and Fox ahead, quite near. He’d been taken aback when Fox’s Force presence suddenly flared up, burning with an unquenchable life. Cody’s, right beside him, had equally brightened.

The Force sang between them. Their connection brightened, wavered, then steadied. Now, it was obvious who Cody’s bonded was. Quin hadn’t lied. He'd either known, or been a damn good guesser.

“What are they doing?” Quin muttered softly to Obi-Wan, mindful of the Guard stalking ahead of them.

“Fox stopped shielding,” Obi-Wan whispered back. “I didn’t realize he had so much life.”

The Guard halted and rapped sharply on the door before them. Obi-Wan reached out again, knowing Cody and Fox were within.

Abruptly, the Force shrieked out. Obi-Wan recoiled. The trust and light was fading, as a flower cut from the stem. He gingerly reached for it, only to have it crumble entirely before him until only the thinnest wisps of the bond remained. He flicked a curious look toward Quin, surprised to feel the Kiffar’s shock in the Force.

“Come in!” Someone called, almost sounding breathless. The door slid open, and the Guard indicated for the Jedi to continue. Fox greeted them with a sharp salute, bright eyes flickering from one to another. Something wary came into his gaze when he noted Quin.

“General Kenobi. General Vos.”

Obi-Wan glanced between Cody and Fox. Fox’s cheeks were flushed as though he’d been running. Cody was white as a sheet, discreetly leaning against the desk in the center of the room. Somehow, Obi-Wan got the impression they’d interrupted something very important. 

“Commanders,” he politely greeted. He turned toward Cody. “I got your comm. Quinlin Vos is a Shadow. If there’s anything to investigate, he’ll find it out.”

Fox’s cheeks were paling back to their normal color rapidly. Cody blinked at Obi-Wan’s direct approach. “Ah, thank you, General.” He stole a glance at Fox. “Please, have a seat.” He gestured toward the couch. He himself moved for the visitors chair, collapsing into it more than sitting down. Fox claimed the chair behind the desk.

Over the next two hours, Fox talked. He started from his first day on Coruscant, and continued through the whole, heart-wrenching two and a half years since that fatal day. Cody filled in what he knew when Fox couldn’t go on. The two Jedi listened attentively, their faces growing darker and darker at each revelation from Fox. Cody noted with some degree of interest that Fox entirely skipped the whole asked-the-Jedi-for-help fiasco. However, he went all-out for everything else. The minimum rations, the shortage of medical supplies, the long hours, the abysmal treatment from the senators, the blackout missions, decommissioning and reconditioning, and most importantly, the Chancellor’s role in it all. He hesitated over the blackout missions, but ended up rapidly blurting out all the little information they knew about them before quickly moving on.

While it had been… jarring--to say the least--to have Fox shut down so rapidly when Blizzard knocked, Cody was now grateful for the barrier between them. Fox’s grief and fear were dizzying even with all the measures he was taking to keep himself locked down. 

Finally, Fox ran out of words. He glanced at Cody, who offered him an encouraging smile. He noted that the secret room Trapper had told him about, as well as Trapper’s “death”, had not been mentioned. Some people might have thought Fox forgot. Cody knew better. Fox had his words neatly lined up, ready to march out for battle. If something was omitted, it was on purpose.

Both Jedi sat in the silence following, contemplative expressions on their faces. Well, on Kenobi’s face. Vos looked ready to strangle somebody. His gloved hands twitched restlessly in his lap. Both of them had stayed silent most of the time, save for a few questions for clarity. Fox sat perfectly still, waiting for their verdict. Kenobi finally let out a long sigh.

“Where are your other Commanders?” he asked softly. Fox’s eyes dropped.

“I did not want them involved, sir,” he curtly said. “I wish to be the only one to take the punishment if this gets out.”

“Ah…” Kenobi eloquently replied. 

“Permission to murder the Chancellor?” Quin’s dark eyes had an almost feral look about them.

“Denied,” Kenobi absently said. “We cannot jump into this without careful consideration. There is a motive for the Chancellor to do this. I sense something more at play, and we cannot risk showing our hand with the entire Guard still at his mercy. We need evidence solid enough to take before the senate, and from what we’ve been told, they will not be quick to consider the Chancellor’s actions as crimes against ‘people’. They will dismiss our accusations and the Guard will pay.” His tone was bitter now.

Vos’s eyes drifted back to Fox curiously. Fox met his gaze, hope and anger smoldering in his eyes. Vos tilted his head. “You remember nothing from the blackout missions?” His voice had an odd tone to it. 

Fox shook his head, lips thinning in suppressed anger. Vos glanced at Kenobi. “If I were trying to hide something big, I would do it when nobody could remember. We don’t know why they can’t remember, but we might be able to find out what they don’t remember.”

Kenobi instantly shook his head. “They have been violated enough. I will not put them through such a thing.”

Vos looked vaguely disappointed. Fox had perked up. “What do you mean?” he carefully asked.

“Kenobi could rifle through your head and see what you can’t remember,” Vos flippantly offered. Kenobi’s eyes flashed toward him in shock.

“I do not ‘ rifle through’ people’s heads!” he objected. “I do not encroach where I am not-”

“Please.”

Kenobi cut himself off, looking at Fox. Vos smirked. Fox’s eyes met Kenobi’s, steady and unwavering. “We need to find out. We.. I need to know where I’ve been. What I’ve done.”

Kenobi stared at him, considering. “You may not like it,” he finally said in a quiet tone. Fox nodded, the motion slightly strained but still firm. Kenobi frowned. “I do not like this idea.”

“Please, sir,” Fox insisted. “It’s the best way. General Vos is right. I believe the key is the blackout missions. The Chancellor is using us for something, and we need that evidence. From what I understand, the rest of the GAR does not have such things.”

“..no,” Kenobi reluctantly admitted. He sighed. Shoving Vos away, he patted the couch. “Come over here, then.”

Fox rose from the chair, swiftly detaching his comm and tossing it to Cody. Cody glanced down curiously, stilling when he saw Keikr’s personal comm ready to dial. He glanced at Fox, trying to catch his eye, but his older brother was settling on the couch, facing Kenobi. Vos pounced on Fox's abandoned chair.

It was so similar, and so different, from sitting across from Cody, Fox thought. Cody was warmth, light, safety. The Jedi was--Fox cut himself off. He reached for the feelings and impressions from Cody of how he considered his General. Keeping himself settled and calm, he looked up and met Kenobi’s eyes. The Jedi quietly studied him for a moment.

“Are you sure? This is a lot of trust in me, and I won’t blame you if you don’t want me in your head.”

“Cody trusts you.” There was no hesitation. A tiny smile flitted across Kenobi’s face.

“Yes,” he stole a side glance at his Commander. “Yes he does.”

He lifted his hands to Fox’s head. Cody winced at the abrupt wave of anxiety that swept him through Fox’s barriers. He shoved you can do it and safety back. Fox steadied. The two of them sat in complete silence, heads bowed. Vos’s gaze slid around to Cody, contemplatively watching the oblivious Commander. Cody was entirely focused on the scene before them. Vos's eyes trailed up Cody's face, noting the curved scar and absently wondering where it had come from.

Fox suddenly startled, exploding. Kenobi instantly withdrew, pulling back as Fox stumbled away from the couch. He was gasping for breath, staring wide-eyed at Kenobi. Cody looked at the floor and bit his lip, trying to control the feelings washing over him. There were too many to decipher.

“What was that?” Vos finally asked. Kenobi and Fox were still staring at each other, both wide-eyed and mildly panicked looking.

“He’s got darkness,” Kenobi muttered, finally averting his eyes. Fox looked at the nearest wall, his breathing easing down. Vos grimaced, but seemed determined to play therapy.

“Fox, why did you pull back?”

Fox wilted a little. “I remembered the feeling,” he mumbled. “Somebody forcing their way in. I-I couldn’t take it. That happens before every blackout mission, but I forget until the next one.”

Vos’s expression sharpened, “Somebody getting into your mind is a familiar feeling?” He carefully clarified. Fox nodded. He moved back, perching on the edge of the couch again. Vos was grumbling under his breath. 

“All right, then. Obi-Wan, why did you jump?”

“I can’t get in. I thought I was almost there, but then he…” Kenobi waved his hands helplessly. “He kicked me out. But it wasn’t him, I don’t think. There’s darkness, something wrapped up in there, so deeply rooted we can’t sense it from the outside.”

“Let’s try again,” Fox said determinedly. Kenobi blinked at him in confusion.

“You want to try again? That can’t be pleasant.”

“No,” Fox admitted, “But if this is the way to free my Guard, I’ll do anything.” He closed the gap between them. Kenobi reluctantly raised his hands again.

“Fox,” Cody spoke suddenly. “You need to lower your shields. Like we did right before. If something in there is keeping the General out, you need to give him all the help you can, and that starts by voluntarily letting him in.”

Fox wavered. Cody knew how vulnerable and open Fox felt when he’d let go of his deathly grip on his emotions and let himself feel. It was not something he’d practiced in years. Cody had felt the fear at being so flippantly open with emotions through their bond. He offered Fox an encouraging little grin. Fox drew in a bracing breath, focusing inwardly. Cody felt the now-familiar wave and rush, the sweep of everything Fox felt and feared. 

Both Jedi’s eyes brightened as Fox further lowered the barrier between them. Obi-Wan hid his surprise as the Force flared to life, singing in harmony as the two clones balanced each other out. He’d thought it was a mutual dampening of the bond, but now he could clearly feel it was Fox, all Fox. The Commander had effectively and terrifyingly shut down a Force bond.

“Who taught you to shield?” he asked when Fox’s eyes opened again, the Force thrumming with life. Confusion crossed Fox’s face.

“On Kamino all CCs were taught shielding,” he offered tentatively.

Quin shook his head, picking up what Obi-Wan was after. “No. You’ve gone beyond that. I believe it's less conscious shielding, and more just extreme control or an entire lack of emotions. The Jedi cannot sense what is not there. Your entire Guard is able to shut down their emotions and feelings, operating, as it were, on an empty mind.” He glanced at Kenobi, “Their exhaustion and lack of nutrition further dampen their Force presence.”

Obi-Wan nodded thoughtfully. He refocused. “Let’s do this.”

Chapter Text

The planet was windswept and barren. No sign of life showed anywhere. Tall grasses swayed and bent as the wind moaned endlessly over the empty landscape. Fox swiveled, spying a ship parked behind him, as well as…. himself?

“Do you recognize it?” Kenobi asked softly. Fox jumped at how close he sounded. A murmured apology followed. “We are quite intertwined, so please try to not boot me out. That would be painful for us both.”

“Yes sir,” Fox replied in the same quiet voice. “Where is this?”

Kenobi chuckled, “I have no idea, Fox. It’s your memory. The only thing I have done is pulled us further away, reconstructing the memory as if you were watching it, not living it. That will make it easier for any… trauma, we come across.”

Fox nodded, wondering if Kenobi could even see him. His memory-self was pacing back and forth, visor tipped to the ground. 

“Do you remember what happens next?”

“No.”

“Try. I am separating you from the darkness that previously blocked your memories, but it is not easy. I don’t have a free.. hand, if you will, to search.”

Fox bit his lip. He reached, stretching to recall a windswept, barren planet and small freighter parked in the middle of nowhere. Snatches and glimpses flashed past, and he withdrew with a startled little gasp. The realization struck him. 

“That was the mission I left with a squad and only brought back four men…” 

“Steady,” Kenobi murmured. “It is in the past. Why did you go to this planet? It was the first memory to come up, so it must have some importance.”

“Yes. Yes, I’ve been there many times.” Fox didn’t know how he knew that.

The Chancellor, he thought.

What about him? Kenobi whispered back.

He sent us there. We are to prepare something. We are to lay the ground in case he needs a rapid escape.

From what?

I… don’t know.

Don’t stop now. Try to remember your other blackout missions.

Death.

The whisper echoed around them both, and Fox felt more than saw Kenobi’s flinch. Fox probed deeper. Death of what? To whom? By who?

A child. An adult. A spy. A smuggler. A Separatist. A Republican. They fell as one, their last breaths sounding ragged in Fox’s ears as they died under his hands. 

Fox shuddered. They knew too much. He’d been sent to hunt them down and eliminate them. He felt Kenobi’s comforting presence shove up against him, the equivalent of a hug in the memory-world they rifled through. Fox moved on. He felt as though the key lay not with him being used as an assassin, but with the windswept planet he’d first seen.

He sifted through his memories, searching for more of the barren planet. A name came to him. 

Widek.

He whispered it to himself, feeling the familiarity. He felt Kenobi’s shock, and turned to him, curious. 

There’s an old Sith temple there, Kenobi explained. It’s an extremely powerful point to draw on the dark side, but Widek is quite inhospitable. It was abandoned, before we can even put a date on it. Some legends say it was abandoned before the Jedi order began, although I don’t even know when that would be. We also believed it to be destroyed shortly after being abandoned. 

I was rebuilding it. Fox knew. The main blackout missions involved rebuilding a Sith temple. 

Why? For who?

Something suddenly slammed into them both. Memories and thoughts flashed past, sucking them into the maelstrom. The image shimmered, and Fox found himself motionless. He stood before a leering trandoshan, held between two figures he couldn’t quite see.

“Our use for you is over, clone,” the trandoshan sneered.

Fox screamed as the vibroblade plunged into his chest. Pain fired, flaring out in paralyzing waves. He stared at his attacker. The two holding him let go, and he dropped to the ground with another unbearable wave of agony. The scene suddenly jarred, shifting and blurring painfully. Fox cried out again, fighting back against the sensation.

“-safe. Stop fighting me. You’re safe.”

Fox’s struggles slowed. He forced himself back to the present, back to Kenobi.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” Kenobi was repeating. Fox felt himself drawing further from the memories. “The darkness didn’t want you to see that. I left you to keep ahold of it.”

“What the kriff was that?” Fox gasped.

“You experienced the memory as you did the first time,” Kenobi sounded hurt. “I’m sorry, Fox. I’ll try to keep you at a distance.”

Fox paused at accepting an apology from a high General. He felt a nudge from Kenobi, and sheepishly smiled. “Thank you, sir.”

He felt distinct displeasure from the Jedi at the ‘sir’, but Kenobi said nothing. “You’re doing most of the work here, Fox. Like I said, I can’t help beyond revealing the memories and keeping us distant. Now keep looking. We need hard evidence, remember?”

Fox drew a bracing breath. He plunged back in, rifling through the memories for anymore appearances of the trandoshan. Since he’d tried, and nearly succeeded, in killing Fox, surely he showed up later. 

There.

Fox paused, staring in horror as his past self lined up a long-distance shot. He was dressed, not in typical clone armor, but an all-black suit, the matching helmet set beside him. He kept his breathing steady, squeezing the trigger in between breaths. The target dropped, a hole through his head. Memory-Fox raised his head, looking toward the dead trandoshan. Fox didn’t see what made him suddenly stiffen, then roll sideways. An axe cleaved the spot he’d been lying. The sniper rifle splintered.

Fox narrowed his eyes at the rifle. He remembered taking that from the armory. Two blackout missions previously, he’d woken in the medbay with severe stab wounds.

“This was recent,” he informed Kenobi. “I took a sniper rifle from the armory on this last blackout mission.”

His attention was drawn back to the attacker on his past self. He winced as his huge opponent whirled, slamming a broad foot into past-Fox. He staggered, obviously winded by the blow, but unwilling to give in.

“We killed you, clone scum!” the trandoshan snarled. “But now you return and murder Vegg.”

Past-Fox didn’t reply, simply ducking and driving in against the trandoshian’s ribs. The rooftop was narrow, and it would only take a misstep on either of their parts to end the fight. Fox, despite his excellent skill, was losing to the trandoshian’s sheer strength and anger. Step by step, he was forced backwards to the very lip of the building.

“At least we know you live…” Kenobi mumbled in the background.

Fox suddenly shuddered, remembering how it ended. Torrance, a simple, shy vod who always looked at Fox as though he hung the moon and stars, had stepped between Fox and the bolt meant to end his life. Somehow, Fox knew it wasn’t Torrance being selfless. His squad had been ordered to ensure their Commander lived, through whatever means necessary.

Fox had been left with only Sparklight and Pitch to complete the mission.

He jumped ahead in his memories, eliciting a startled squeak from the Jedi. Evidence. He needed evidence that the Chancellor was evil. More evidence than abuse and flagrant disregard for clone lives. Something that the senate could take one look at, and explode in anger at their supreme leader.

Go back to Widek, Kenobi whispered.

Fox laboriously reached, mind struggle to sift through thousands of memories he didn’t recognize. It was at his disposal, like a great heap of papers that Sketch would toss onto his desk. And, just like the heap of papers, they were not in order. As he moved, what he thought was chronologically, he ran across receiving injuries or losing men, and connected them to blackout missions that were certainly not chronological. His brain didn’t know what to do with everything suddenly revealed. In shock, it had tossed the memories together as one jumbled mess, not even bothering to inform Fox of anything important. He had to go through and actually remember each item before his mind sorted it into a location on his timeline.

Fox mentally pawed through the memories, looking for anything on Widek. The barren planet showed up at random intervals, but Fox was abruptly distracted by something else.

“General Grievous,” he muttered. Kenobi startled, the darkness he held straining at the revelation. He growled an angry curse, and Fox ground his teeth and focused inwardly as Kenobi invaded a little further, attempting to hold the wall firm. 

It is very invasive. My apologies, Kenobi thought. 

It’s fine. Fox was determined. He dug deeper into the memory of General Grievous. Past-Fox, outfitted in the same dark, assassin clothes, watched from the rafters as the cyborg general stalked into the empty warehouse.

The general growled in anger as he surveyed the empty warehouse. Fox uncurled from his position, lightly dropping down. “Your master has sent you a message.” His voice was smooth, but held something terrible and dark. “He says if you don’t fall in line, he no longer has need for you.”

Grievous roared in rage. Past-Fox stood perfectly still, accepting the tantrum with calm simplicity. He stepped back as Grievous made a half-hearted attempt to run him through with a lightsaber. Before the tantrum could carry further, Past-Fox reached into the pockets at his waist and held out a holocomm device. The image of a hooded figure appeared.

“General Grievous.” The voice was old, and obviously angry. The General stepped closer, somehow managing to menacingly listen as his master rattle off a series of rebukes and orders.

“Why don’t I just run your little messenger through and leave you?” He snarled at the completion of the lecture. The holographic figure tilted their head.

“That would be foolish, General. CC-1010 is incredibly resilient and very hard to kill. He also has orders to finish you if you make a move against me. Attempting to kill my messenger is clearly a move against me.”

Grievous growled again, wheeling to pace away a step and then back. With a last, seething mutter, he turned and marched from the warehouse. Past-Fox didn’t move a single inch during the whole conversation. The holographic figure rotated toward Fox, his face finally visible.

Kenobi’s surprise lashed against Fox as they both saw what Fox had known the instant his past-self had pulled up the comm. He remembered this now. 

“CC-1010, engage Order 21.”

“Yes sir.” Past-Fox replied in a steady tone. Kenobi’s attention jerked from the memory when he felt Fox reeling. He reached out, trying to steady Fox, only to begin losing his grip on the darkness again. He spun away from Fox.

Good soldiers follow orders.

Kenobi jerked back at the intrusion. That was neither Fox, nor the memory-covering darkness, but something else entirely. His tenuous barrier between the darkness and Fox wavered. Fox was no help. Instead of lending Kenobi strength as he’d done before, he blankly kep the distance between them. He appeared to latch onto the escaped phrase, his thoughts running circular around it.

Good soldiers follow orders. Good soldiers follow orders. 

The Chancellor’s conciliatory voice spoke. “You are a good soldier, CC-1010.”

Memories and phrases flashed by, too fast for Kenobi to catch them all as they overlapped.

“--STAND DOWN--good soldiers--you are a good--no, please! Don’t leave me!--execute order--No! Fox!--another blackout mission, Commander?--Kill them all--Why did you do it?--CC-1010, engage order--Fox, come back to us, ori’vod. We need you--I am not letting you kriffin’ die!--good soldiers follow….

“Are you having… trouble, Commander? 

“No sir, I can take more. Please.”

“So heroic, you are Commander. You’d do anything for your men, wouldn’t you? Execute Order--”

Kenobi jerked, flailing back and trying to drag Fox. He could feel this dark entity, this new threat, reaching out. It sucked Fox down, the Commander too frozen to even put up a struggle. It trapped his mind, wrapping around it with a vice-like grip. 

Execute. Orders. Good soldiers. Follow Orders.

Kenobi dragged backwards, knowing he was losing it. He needed to get out, fast. Get out, and see if he could help Fox once he was safe. If he stayed… his attention wavered between the encroaching danger, curling around both their minds. He was so wrapped in Fox’s mind, it would inadvertently catch him. He didn’t want to know what it did. 

Fox was blank, terrifying, entirely devoid of everything where the creeping danger had touched. Kenobi realized he’d slipped, and darkness slithered back out from his wall. Memories gushed downward, drowned and buried beneath a sea of black, overlaid by the malicious little layer of chains. Kenobi caught a glimpse of past-Fox caught in the heat of a firefight, then the memory spun into the rising darkness.

Obi-Wan gathered himself, hoping Fox was too absent to feel the pain as he wrenched their connection apart. Knives stabbed into his mind, shrieking in protest as the carefully woven bridge between their minds tore. Jagged edges cruelly ripped, and Kenobi cried out in pain.

EXECUTE ORDER SIXTY-

Kenobi gave one last, mental jerk on his mind and Force presence, forcibly separating himself and Fox entirely.

He didn’t even have time to open his eyes before he was falling away into darkness.

Chapter Text

“Drink.”

“I’m not thirsty.”

“Fox, I swear if you don’t drink I will stab you with the biggest needle I can find and dump water in until you roll around like a bloated little pig.”

At that unpleasant imagery, Obi-Wan’s eyes sprang open. He looked toward where he sensed Fox, first. The Commander was scowling at his medic, but had accepted a cup of water. A moment later, his scowl fell with untypical exhaustion and his eyes dropped to the floor. 

“I said no more Force osik. And yet I get a comm from Dragon because a karkin’ jetti flagged him down in the hall because Commander Cody kriffing passed out again!” Keikr accused. “I show up to find you mired so deep in Force osik I couldn’t help you if I wanted!” In his rant, the medic swung toward Obi-Wan, then abruptly stopped.

Obi-Wan wondered if Fox could see the concern that Obi-Wan felt in the Force from the medic. A moment later, said medic recovered from seeing the Jedi awake and listening to their conversation.

“Welcome back to the land of the living, sir,” he brusquely said.

Obi-Wan squinted blearily. “How long…” he muttered.

“Only a few minutes, General.”

“Keikr?” Fox sounded unusually meek.

The medic swung back. “At your service, Commander.” There was an almost mocking note to his voice.

“Quin.” Kenobi lurched to his feet, and Keikr automatically caught the Jedi’s arm to steady him. He promptly shoved the General back onto the couch. Unable to actually stand, Kenobi flailed a little and fell back. He shot Fox an offended look. The Commander raised an eyebrow over the barely-touched glass of water.

“Your medic pushed me.”

“You’re the one who tried to stand,” Fox retorted, surprised at his own bravery. He raised the cup again, but Obi-Wan noted that the water level did not go down. 

“General Vos and Commander Cody are fine,” Keikr informed the two of them. Fox didn’t look up, gently pressing his fingers against his temple to try and alleviate the headache. “As afore stated, the Commander passed out shortly after you two began your little… experiment.”

“Of course,” Fox muttered. “The bond was wide open. It probably overwhelmed him.”

“Accurate conclusion,” Keikr dryly said. “As for General Vos, he flatlined, had a seizure , and then passed out after approaching Fox. He woke up about an hour ago and insisted upon returning here.”

Kenobi’s head had come up, horror in his tone. “He touched him?”

Keikr offered him a bland look, “I do not know exactly what happened, General.” Obi-Wan’s eyes swept the room. A mat had been dragged in, and Vos sprawled over it. He had a cloth draped over his eyes, but sensing Obi-Wan’s gaze, tilted his hand into a thumbs up. 

“You absolute idiot!” Obi-Wan lunged to his feet, only to be caught by Keikr and shoved back down again. “What were you thinking!”

“I was thinking you’d been busy poking through Fox’s head for hours, and wanted to know what was so interesting. I… ah, miscalculated the increased strength of the psychometry due to both your strong connections to the Force at that moment. Also miscalculated which memory you might be in.”

Kenobi swore under his breath, “What did you see?”

“Felt,” Quin mildly corrected. “Got stabbed with a vibroblade, I think. Fox, dude, you are one strong guy. That was incredibly unpleasant.”

“Wait, you said hours?” Obi-Wan swiveled back to Quin, who glanced at Keikr for confirmation as he said,

“I think you guys were together for… about five hours?”

Obi-Wan swore--a highly impressive mix of languages--drawing a feigned shocked expression from Quin. Naturally, in a war, everyone swore, some more or less than others, but Obi-Wan Kenobi was a reserved, dignified Jedi. He did not use blasters, did not torture prisoners, and did not swear.

Keikr shot Obi-Wan an impressed look before glancing back at his Commander. Fox winced at Quin’s words. His eyes remained downcast, his hand shaking a little as he slowly swirled the water around the cup.

“Fox, drink it. Osmosis won’t work.”

Fox winced again. He held the cup out toward Keikr. “I can’t.”

Keikr’s shoulders slumped a little. He accepted the water back, setting it on the table and giving Obi-Wan an appraising look. “Are you nauseous and dizzy as well, sir? Think you could keep some liquid down?”

Obi-Wan blinked. How the medic had inferred all that from Fox’s two words, he didn’t know. “Uh, no, yeah. Probably.” He shot a sideways glance at Fox. “What do you remember?” He took the cup handed to him by the irritated medic.

Fox let out a pained sigh. “More than I expected to,” he muttered. “Except near the end.”

Obi-Wan grimaced. Quin, while not moving, was obviously listening. Obi-Wan ran a hand over his face. “Yeah. You kinda vanished on me there. Something…” he hesitated, “Something came after us. Both of us.” He slowly sipped at the water.

“Noted,” Fox said dryly. “Sorry I left.”

“You were taken. It's not your fault.”

Fox raised his head a little, “No, I left.”

Obi-Wan spluttered on his water and whirled to look at him. “You left?” He repeated.

“I’m sorry.”

Quin had tugged the cloth off one eye, and now watched the proceedings with keen interest, even though he squinted at the bright lights. Keikr, without even seeming to look at Quin, stepped over toward the door. A moment later, the lights dimmed. Obi-Wan still stared at Fox.

“You left? Voluntarily?” 

Fox let his head drop again, gently massaging one hand against his head, “Yes. I heard the Order, and I just… froze up. Panicked, I guess. So I shut down. I’m sorry.”

“No, no. Don’t be.” Obi-Wan shoved himself to his feet, suddenly needing to pace. Keikr watched with resigned concern, keeping one wary eye on the glass Obi-Wan still held. “The fact you managed to.. leave?.. while we were still connected is a feat in itself, but not impossible. There were parts of your mind that I was trying to stay away from for privacy…” he trailed off thoughtfully. He made an aborted little gesture, the water sloshing dangerously in the cup he’d forgotten he held. He hadn’t looked much when Fox turned terrifyingly blank. He’d just assumed that the darkness had taken him. But if Fox had shut down entirely--as Obi-Wan had previously seen him do to a degree--it would not only present a blank side to the Jedi, but in most likelihood, kick said Jedi out as well. 

“But I wasn’t kicked out..” he muttered. “I was chased out.” He stopped pacing at the revelation, stroking his beard and staring at the wall. He hadn’t been thrown from Fox’s mind with vicious intent. No, he’d been stalked, hunted. Whatever was there didn’t want him out , it wanted him trapped . Keikr edged forward, gently prying the glass from the Jedi’s unresisting hand.

“Chased?” Quin and Fox chorused as the words registered on their half-operational brains. Even Keikr paused, brow furrowing in thought. Obi-Wan shot a little glance at Fox.

“Did you chase me out?”

Fox offered him a disbelieving look. “I have no idea.” Keikr dismissed the conversation, sadly staring down into the cup that had far too little water missing.

Obi-Wan had already discarded Fox’s answer, “Of course you didn’t. You may shut down, but you’re not dark . Not you at your core. The darkness is like a parasite, but I could control it until that other… thing came along.” He shuddered. 

“After the Chancellor said….the thing?” 

“Yes, yes.” Obi-Wan resumed pacing. Keikr sighed. He set the cup down on Fox’s desk.

Fox was staring hard at the floor. “So the thing that did the thing to you is connected to the thing the holo-man said after that last memory thing? Which is what triggered my shutdown?”

Obi-Wan nodded. Quin groaned loudly. “Thing, thing, thing…” he grumbled. “Can either of you possibly be more vague?”

Before anyone could answer the complaints, the door slid open. Fox didn’t look up, merely muttering, “Keikr’s gonna get you, Cody.”

Cody had a stubborn expression on his face, despite leaning heavily against the doorframe. Tally anxiously hovered behind him. “I wanted to be part of the debrief,” Cody insisted, shrinking only slightly from Keikr’s murderous glare. 

“Drink!” Keikr shoved Fox’s abandoned cup at the Marshal Commander. “You need to rehydrate.” Cody meekly took it, carefully crossing the room to sit by Fox. Fox glanced over his little brother, ensuring no physical harm had come to him. Cody did much the same to Fox. Then he glanced at Keikr.

“Did you give him painkillers?”

“Yes.” Keikr crossed his arms. “Contrary to general belief, I am a medic. I do know what I’m doing, even if my patients are kriffing children to treat. Tally! Keep an eye on the bunch of irresponsible, sneaking di’kuts.” He spun on his heel, marching from the room. Tally flattened himself to let the irate medic by. Everyone in the room stared after the brisk departure.

“What’s up with him?” Cody tilted his head. Fox groaned, burying his face in his hands. Both Jedi looked questioningly at Fox.

“Give him some time,” Tally suggested, gazing down the hallway. “It was really hard on him.” He moved from the doorway, favoring the Jedi with a curious, wary look that bordered on hostile. Obviously, Keikr wasn’t the only one who had been concerned.

“I know..” Fox muttered. He was looking more under the weather with each passing second. He glanced at Obi-Wan with an unreadable, odd expression, but quickly averted his eyes. Cody sipped on his water, recalled Keikr’s expression, and quickly took a large gulp.

“You were the Guard who started bringing us to Fox and then swapped out,” Quin realized. 

A micro-expression of something akin to fear flashed across Tally’s face, then it was gone and Obi-Wan felt him lock down. Not as tight as Fox, but his Force presence considerably diminished. “Yes, sir. My apologies. I had something urgent to attend to.” His tone was carefully neutral and polite. He flicked a little look at Fox, who somehow caught it even with his head in his arms.

“Jedi, remember?” he grumbled. 

Tally relaxed. Oh, of course, his body language seemed to say. 

“So.” Quin sat up, letting the cloth drop into his lap. He grimaced even at the dimmed lights, but refused to back down. “Neither of you have been very forthcoming here. We got solid evidence or not?”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan said firmly. Fox didn’t reply. Cody drank his water and listened. After stealing a glance at the quiet Commander--who looked downright miserable--he continued, “The Chancellor is rebuilding the Sith temple on Widek. You and I are going out there to confirm and take some holos or something to show the Council and Senate.”

“But how will-”

“Shush.” Obi-Wan held up a hand. Quin shushed. Obi-Wan turned to Fox, “Do you think you’d be able to identify the ship you used?”

“I wiped the logs,” Fox muttered.

Obi-Wan blinked. “How do you know?”

Fox kept his elbows on his knees and face in his hands, “Because I remember.”

Obi-Wan heard Tally’s breath catch, but he didn’t look. “Oh yes, we touched on this earlier. How much?”

“Not much. Bits and snatches,” Fox admitted, “But enough. Everything I skimmed over is still there. I don’t know why.”

“Maybe it downloaded to another folder?” Quin suggested.

Cody scoffed. “Beg your pardon, General, but he’s not a computer.” He leaned forward the set the empty cup on the floor, tucked against the couch so nobody would kick it.

Obi-Wan slowly nodded, “You both have a point. But Fox, can you identify the ship?”

Fox started to nod, thought better, and simply said, “Yes.” Obi-Wan eyed him in concern. While he was feeling better and better, Fox had proceeded to slide downhill since they separated. He gently reached for his Force presence, surprised to find it cracked open. He was drawing off Cody, he realized. His eyes shifted, meeting Cody’s dark gaze.

Cody stared at his General, unblinking, daring him to make public his discovery. Obi-Wan hesitated. Cody had always been an excellent Commander, better than anything Obi-Wan could have hoped for. He wasn’t afraid to object when he considered a plan too dangerous, but this looked like more than mere objection. Cody looked at his General as though he might put himself between the Jedi and his brother if the need arose.

Obi-Wan hastily chased the thought off. The need would not arise; he would make sure of it.

“So. We shall check out Widek. Fox, you locate, identify, and secure the ship you used. I know your men are… wary, but see if you can gather as many testimonies to the abuse as you can. I don’t think I need to tell you to hide them well.”

“Sir,” Cody was gazing up inquisitively. Obi-Wan motioned him to continue. “Something that may persuade the council and senate is that they will lose their army if they do not act.”

Tally jerked. Fox’s head came up, startled. A moment later, he moaned and dropped it again, digging his palm against his temple. A little grimace flashed across Cody’s face before he pushed on. “The clones are very protective of each other, General. We do not take kindly to our own being misused.”

“Yes. I was aware…” Obi-Wan trailed off, stroking his beard again. Unseen behind his back, Quin mimicked him, complete with the somber expression he couldn’t even see; he just knew his friend that well. 

“The entire GAR will flock to Coruscant as soon as they hear about the Guard,” Cody said evenly, carefully keeping his eyes off Quin. “Considering there are literally millions of us, there will be no way anyone could stop them from taking the senate by storm. I am unsure if I could even control them. We are bred for war, and if they all get their blood riled and hackles raised, I doubt there is a force beyond the entire Separitist army that could withhold them from revenge.”

“They would leave the war?” Quin blinked in astonishment, his mimicry forgotten. “Commandeer the ships? Kidnap all the non-clones?”

“In a heartbeat.”

“Ah..” Quin sounded a little ill.

Fox muttered angrily. Tally looked toward him. “What, Commander?” Fox waved a hand, dismissing the statement as too much work to repeat.

“We can’t let them do that,” Obi-Wan mused. “It will compound the mess if everyone comes running to Coruscant.”

“That would actually solve the problem…” 

Everyone looked toward the door, where Keikr had returned and stood, arms crossed. He explained himself. “I mean, the Chancellor can keep the Corries under his thumb, but he can’t control the entire GAR. There’s just too many, and they aren’t… broken. Like us. They don’t…” Keikr trailed off, looking troubled.

“Fear him,” Tally quietly supplied. “They aren’t afraid.” He fidgeted, rubbing an ankle against the other leg.

“No.” Fox abruptly interjected. “We are not dragging our brothers into this.”

Obi-Wan and Quin looked between the four clones as they quarreled. Fox, subdued, but still forceful in his stance. Cody and Keikr argued for letting the GAR know, all at once. Fox stoutly repeated it was bound to end in disaster. Tally joined in sporadically, first for, then against. Obi-Wan took a few steps back until he reached Fox’s desk chair, where he sat down. Quin, leaned against the wall with his knees tucked up in front of him, followed the animated argument with keen interest.

Gradually, Obi-Wan realized there was an odd ranking in the group. Cody and Fox were equal ranking, technically. Both held the title of Marshal Commander. Yet Obi-Wan realized that everyone was deferring to Fox. Tally and Keikr, it was expected, although Keikr as the medic could definitely get his hackles up against higher ranks if he so desired. But Cody deferred to Fox as well. And, most telling, the two Corries didn’t cede to Cody, despite him clearly outranking them. They constantly looked to Fox for reassurance and back-up, and were almost outright hostile to the non-Corrie clone. Even though Keikr agreed, he still somehow managed to be stand-offish from Cody.

There was a chiming sound, and Obi-Wan glanced toward Quin. The Kiffar gazed down at his wrist, frowning. He exchanged a brief look with Obi-Wan. “They want you back at the temple for a Council meeting.” His voice easily slid under the rising argument from the four clones.

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow, “Why didn’t they just comm me ?”

“Couldn’t get ahold of you.” Quin smirked. Obi-Wan glanced around for his comm, suddenly realizing it was gone. He turned a suspicious look at Quin, quickly turning baleful as Quin held up his friend’s stolen comm and waggled it enticingly. “I silenced it. Just for you.” He smugly grinned.

“Give that!” Obi-Wan held out a hand, jerking the little device to him with the Force. He opened it, finding missed calls and messages from numerous Jedi. Kriff. They really wanted him. He glanced up at the clones again just in time to catch Fox full-out snarling at all three clones at once. They backed down rapidly, letting Fox assert his dominance before the Commander groaned in despair and fell back on the sofa. He stared at the ceiling. More like, glowered at it.

Obi-Wan took advantage of the lull in the conversation. “Gentlemen! We must return to the Temple, but we will get started for Widek as soon as possible. I don’t know how long it’ll take us, but we shall be back with evidence as soon as possible. I leave the decision about telling or not telling your brothers about this up to you.”

“Widek’s about an hour via hyperspace, several hours by sublight. If we can find that ship, it’s got custom hyperspace coordinates in it. There’s no lane going to Widek.” Fox didn’t look over as he rattled off the information.

“Right.” Obi-Wan nodded. “Then I shall find out what the Temple needs, and you find the ship?” He hated to put pressure on Fox when he looked so miserable, but he didn’t like the feeling of whatever had chased him from Fox’s mind. Somehow, he felt their quarry knew they were coming. Fox wearily gave a tiny nod.

“I’ll pick you up outside the Temple.”

“Good.” Obi-Wan observed Fox with concern, “Maybe I should check that you're all right before I leave.”

Keikr’s eyes narrowed protectively toward Obi-Wan, who was saved from the medic’s aggression by Fox rolling his head to blink at the Jedi. “I think I might throw up if you try to get in my head again,” he bluntly stated, his honesty surprising Obi-Wan.  

“Ah, let's not do that.” Quin lurched to his feet, a crooked little grin on his face. “It was nice meeting you boys.” He cast Fox an unreadable look, unseen by the clones as they nearly started arguing again. Obi-Wan frowned thoughtfully.

He automatically moved to Quin’s side as the Kiffar nearly sprawled flat out at his first steps. After a particularly strong psychometric reading, he was often unsteady on his feet for several hours. Tally escorted them to the front desk, where the same clone still sat. He pointedly ignored both Jedi again, rigid and stiff in his attention to the work spread across his desk.

Tally let out a relieved little breath as the Jedi disappeared from sight, leaning against each other like drunk men from a bar. He turned to Sketch, seeing the odd clone scowling darkly at his datapad. He raised an eyebrow.

“You good there, Sketch?”

Sketch grunted, his head jerking in a little nod. “Is the Commander ok?”

Fox , Tally knew, not the 212th Commander. “Yes.” He said simply. His comm chimed frantically, and he glanced down.

Fox : Don’t spread around whats happened, not even to the rest of Command

Tally sighed. He tapped out an affirmative. He saw the logic in it, but it still irked him. He glanced at Sketch again, noting with pleasure that the scowl had faded. Few were aware of Sketch’s personal struggles, but as the medic back-up’s back-up, Tally was aware of many odd facts about many of the Guard. 

Hero had a bad limp from a partly severed tendon in his knee. Glass’s vision was atrocious, and going downhill. Holly’s hands shook. Dragon sported burn scars over much of his body--thankfully not much visible--and Raven’s severe anxiety rendered him unable to sleep without his batchmate curled against his side. Many of the Guard had quickly developed deep-seated fear of three things: dark, fire, and being alone.

Tally hurried his steps back to the office to ensure he wasn’t needed there anymore. He walked in the door in time to catch the tail end of a quiet sentence.

“-off world, so he shouldn’t be calling for anything for the next six or seven hours.”

The Chancellor , Tally knew. They must have commed the front desk and asked Sketch to check the supreme leader’s schedule. Fox was flat out on the couch, slid down so his boots hung over the arm on the end. He had an arm draped over his eyes, the top half of his armor removed. Keikr leaned against the desk, arguing with Cody in low tones. They only flicked a cursory glance when Tally appeared. Fox didn’t stir. Tally glanced at him in concern. It wasn’t like his Commander to not even look when somebody new came into the room.

“Is he alive?” he jerked a thumb toward Fox, breaking into the murmured conversation. Keikr glanced over to double check before answering.

“Yes. If anyone asks, tell them he’s got a migraine. Commander, you’ve got his paperwork?”

Cody nodded, despite looking a little weary himself. Keikr moved to Fox, medically poking him in the shoulder. “Up. You can’t sleep here.”

Fox didn’t budge. “I’ve slept here before,” he mumbled.

“Not this time.” Keikr determinedly pushed Fox toward the vertical position. Fox, while not resisting, didn’t help either. “Why is all of Command so karkin’ heavy?”

“It’s all the workouts we do,” a voice spoke from the doorway. Cody and Tally hastily turned.

“Thorn,” Keikr grunted in an unfriendly manner. Thorn stepped in, Hound trailing after him. Thorn’s bucket was on, but Hound’s mop of curly hair was visible for all the world to see, along with a hurriedly-bandaged gash across his face. Blood still dribbled out, slowly sliding down toward his neck.

“What’s the matter with Fox?”

Cody noted they also kept their voices down, but the concern was clear in Hound’s tone. 

“Migraine,” Tally tersely informed them. He examined Hound with a cocked head. Thorn glanced briefly at Cody, then back to Fox. He approached, sliding in on the opposite side of Keikr. Cody stole another look at Hound, the startling realization coming to him that the Sergeant’s bucket--tucked under his arm--had the visor shattered. He wondered how long it would take Keikr to notice.

He felt a flicker of panic from Fox that quickly settled into recognition at the approach of Thorn. He was keeping his eyes squeezed shut, and it was with difficulty Cody kept their bond shut enough that he wasn’t crippled by the pain also. As badly as he wanted to help Fox, they needed at least one steady Commander who knew the plan. 

“‘M cold,” Fox muttered. He was attempting to curl in on himself, prevented by Keikr’s firm hold on his shoulder. Keikr offered an encouraging little squeeze.

“I know, vod. We’ll get you warmed up.”

“Quarters?” Thorn checked with Keikr, who nodded. He briefly flicked a look at Hound, then did a double-take. Thorn’s grimace was clear in his tone when he spoke again, “I got Fox. You can get him fixed.”

“No medbay.” Hound crossed his arms defensively. Keikr was already moving from Fox’s side.

“Of course, vod,” he instantly agreed. “Fox’s got a kit. Come here.”

Thorn was coaxing Fox to his feet, then guiding him toward the door. Tally gathered up Fox’s upper armor, hauling it along. Fox had nearly refused to have even that much protection stripped from him, but Keikr had managed to persuade him. Thorn snagged Fox’s helmet from the desk, putting it on and fiddling briefly with the controls.

Cody blinked as instant relief flooded over from Fox. Not good, but better by a long shot. The visor had been turned dark as it could get, while Thorn had also muted the outside mic, muffling noises. Cody eased a little, not realizing how much of Fox’s suffering he’d been taking.

Thorn headed for the door, Fox in tow, when Keikr called out, “He got his meds. Just wrap him up, keep the lights-”

“I know, Keikr,” Thorn gently interrupted. Keikr bit his lip, looking a cross between worried and proud. 

“Kay, good,” he nodded. “Turn up the heat, though. He gets cold easily since he got back.”

“I’m right here , you know,” Fox grumbled.

Thorn smiled his acknowledgement, the falsely cheerful expression dying as he turned back toward the door. Thorn and Fox shuffled from the room, presumably to the barracks as intended. Behind him, Cody heard the murmur from Keikr as the medic worked at cleaning and bandaging Hound’s gash.

Cody stood in silence, feeling very much the outsider the Corries still considered him. The Guard had help coming, but until then, they would keep functioning, keep protecting each other, and nothing would change that.

~

“I still don’t understand where Cody and Fox’s Force bond came from..” Obi-Wan grumbled, more to distract himself from the growing headache than actually start a conversation.

“Think about it,” Quin encouraged, not seeming slightly in the least that he was practically being carried by Obi-Wan. “The clones are neither Force sensitive, nor Force null. They are something we haven’t seen before. If a trained Jedi were to take initiative, they could link the clones together, such as between Fox and Cody.”

“But it’s not a ‘link’. Their entire life force is intertwined to a degree that I fear if one dies, the other will be dragged down as well.”

They had been arguing over everything that had occurred since leaving the Guard headquarters. Both had opted to walk back to the temple, despite the distance, deciding they could use the time to clear their heads and plan a bit.

“On the contrary!” Quin countered, “Their link makes them stronger. What may be a fatal wound for one can be distributed between the two, and allow them both to survive. I think somebody linked Fox while he was injured and missing, and that’s what allowed him to survive.”

Obi-Wan suddenly froze. Quin awkwardly lurched, coming to a stop half a step later. He made a face at his helper. “It was you,” Obi-Wan realized. Quin made another face, this one a little more sour.

“Yes, good job,” he muttered. He hadn’t been trying very hard to hide it, Obi-Wan thought. Quin crossed his arms defensively, but at his teeter, quickly grabbed onto Obi-Wan again. He let out a frustrated little huff at his helplessness. “He was dying, Obi-Wan. I found him nearly dead, and I couldn’t do a thing about it. I’m no healer. I tried to tether him to this world. Honest, I didn’t realize it was your Commander, and I didn’t know how strong the bond would be. I just found the brightest, closest light in his world and tapped into it with his life force. It worked, too. He’s alive, isn’t he? I tried-”

“Quin.” Obi-Wan held up a hand and Quin’s rambling cut short. “Why didn’t you just bring him up to the Temple, or take him back to the Guard?”

Quin scowled fiercely. “Shadow business. I couldn’t pull out at that time without giving myself away. There were more lives than just Fox’s at stake. I did what I could and tipped off the Guard.”

Obi-Wan nodded. “I understand.” He began moving again, and a shocked Quin nearly lost his feet when he didn’t follow. Obi-Wan had already moved on from the fact that a Jedi had taken the dangerous initiative to intertwine two lives in order to save one. The Council would have an absolute riot, but somehow, Quin knew the Council would never find out from the by-the-rules Jedi walking beside him.  

He let a little grin show on his face. Perhaps there was hope for the Jedi yet.

Chapter Text

“ There is absolutely no hope for the Jedi. If the war doesn’t kill them, I will personally- ”

The recorder flicked off as the door slid open. Fox stared at Thire, who very unrepentantly stared back. Fox blinked. His eyes slid down to the small audio recorder Thire still held. The Commander looked not at all concerned at having been caught with something that could decommission one of the highest ranking GAR troopers on grounds of treason. Fox looked back up at Thire’s face. He searched it for a reason that he had been replaying Fox’s dangerous rant from two years ago. Fox stepped in and let the door slide shut behind him. His eyes drifted from Thire’s stubborn expression, back down to the little device.

“I thought I destroyed that.”

“And I thought you were out with a migraine. Keikr said that Thorn put you to bed only an hour ago.”

Fox scowled. Thire gently set the device on the bed. “This is a fool’s plan, Fox.” He murmured, not looking. Fox tensed imperceptibly. Only another clone looking for it would have seen the sign; Thire had been watching for it. He stepped back, nearer to Fox’s bed. Fox came closer, but kept away from the little device. Noting, Thire casually moved it from the bottom bunk to the top. He sat, patting the space beside him.

“Why do you have to do it this way?”

“Do what?” Fox stiffly sat. Thire chuckled, but it was devoid of any humor.

“You know what I’m talking about Fox. I’m not entirely dense. Thorn and Hound may have fallen for that migraine thing, but I’m wondering why two Jedi came to visit--one of them a trained investigator--and when they leave, seven hours later, you crash, while Cody and Keikr both become suspiciously tight-lipped. 

Fox’s shoulders slumped. “Why are you investigating my life?” 

“You don’t like the Jedi, yet you didn’t kick them out. I was worried.”

Fox blinked in surprise. “Kick out Jedi Generals from-”

“Don’t avoid the issue, Fox!” Thire snapped. Fox wilted a little further. He buried his head in his hands briefly, letting out a pained sigh.

“How much do you know?”

“Two Jedi, the 212th Commander, the medic, and you have concocted a plan to help the Guard. You are, for some reason, not telling anyone else.”

He missed Tally…. Fox groaned. “They can’t know, Thire. They’ll try to stop it, to protect the men.” He looked up when Thire didn’t answer. The other clone stared back, a knowing expression on his face. 

“They won’t learn from me,” he promised. “I just wanted to hear from you that everything is all right. Well, as good as can be expected.” He rose, bringing down the little recorder device. Fox immediately stiffened again, staring at it as though it might spontaneously combust. 

Thire turned it over in his hands, musing. “I found it, you know. A few months ago. I don’t know who hid it, but judging from your reaction, it wasn’t you. Another vod, I suppose. I kept it around to remind me of why we’re fighting. I know,” he held up a hand to forestall Fox’s brittle comments, “This could get a lot of Guard killed, not just you. After all, natborns can’t tell our voices apart. But…. I believed it worth the risk. You were good at ranting back then, Fox. And Highpoint-” he turned it over to reveal the name, “-is good at recording opportune moments.”

Fox’s lips moved, soundlessly repeating the name. It was one he hadn’t heard in years; since the Chancellor’s first mass punishment had stolen two of Command from him. Thorn and Thire had come to replace them. Hound, little, innocent, sweet Hound, had been Fox’s support in the days following.

“Hound hid this…” Fox murmured. “He hates Jedi. He blames them for what happened.” Hound had lost two of his batchmates to the vicious punishments. Fox had managed to transfer the other two out of the Guard, to the front where they’d be safe. Now, there was a reason he refused to accept an entire batch into the Guard. At the most, he took two.

Thire nodded. “From the way it was labeled, he did not expect it to be discovered. There’s three of you arguing on this,” he hefted the little device, “You manage to cover much of what the Guard is going through. At the time, anyway.”

“Hound was saving it for evidence. He hoped somebody would find it someday and exact retribution for us.” Fox groaned, flopping back over on the bed. “Put it away, Thire. Put it back where you found it.”

Thire instead set it on the floor at their feet. He shifted to look at Fox better.

“Stone, Thorn, Hound, Keikr, Tally. They’ll oppose this shabla plan because they’re all looking to protect you. I’m the oldest of my batch, Fox.”

Fox cracked one eye open, wondering where this was going. 

“On Kamino, I often had to choose between helping one of my batchmates, or several other vode. Often, too often, I picked my batchmates. We try to save those closest to us, but sometimes, we have to sacrifice those we love the most to save all those we love just a little less.”

Fox opened both eyes, staring at the top bunk, “Wow… that’s, uh, really deep, Thire.”

Thire huffed. “What I’m trying to get across, is that I’m not gonna stop this idoitic plan of yours. I’m gonna try to protect you, same as the others, but I understand why you’re doing it.”

Fox forced himself to a sitting position. “Thire, that’s incredibly touching, but I’m not actually gonna be in any danger here. They’ll merely get the evidence, and then march in and arrest them. In fact, I’m planning to recall all the Guard back to base so no backlash can catch them. I know we went through a lot of plans to get the Guard out of this, but Thire,” he leaned forward, his eyes shining, “ this plan doesn’t involve using Guard as bait, or placing any of them in harm’s way. Cody, he’s got his General on it. We have outside help.”

Thire studied his Commander. Something suspiciously akin to hope blazed from Fox’s words. Thire had never seen that from Fox; only survival. In whispers at night, like contraband crossing lines of fire, he’d heard murmurs of back when the Guard, when Fox , had hope. It had died as rapidly as the first half of the Guard’s Command, killed by the Jedi. 

Or so the stories said.

Now, as Thire gazed at his spirited, unbroken Commander, he realized the hope had never been gone. Fox had hidden it, deep, where it couldn’t hurt him again, but he hadn’t lost it. Now, he shoved every last bit of hope he had toward the Jedi once more. If they failed again, the Guard got punished again…. Thire shuddered at the thought. Fox would break. The Guard looked at Fox as the indomitable protector, the beskar figure between them and harm. Very few saw the cracks in the armor being forced wider as men fell, unable to be protected by their Commander.

“It’s a good plan, Fox,” he managed softly. Fox fell back on the bed again, a tiny smile gracing his face. Kriff. When was the last time Thire had seen him smile? Now, not only was he smiling, but he was doing the unthinkable, and placing his confidence on the outsiders of the outsiders. They weren’t Guard, and they weren’t even vode. 

Thire could only pray they wouldn’t break Fox’s hope forever this time.

The door slid open. Fox, acting with speed that allowed him to beat all the CCs in sparring, kicked the recorder under the bunk. A vexed Sketch stalked into the room to reveal a beleaguered Hound, supported by a weary-looking Thorn and followed by an anxious Keikr. Upon seeing Thire sitting on Fox’s bunk, Keikr scowled. 

“I told you to go to bed.”

“I’m feeling better!” Fox didn’t sit up. He felt Thire idly tracing circles on his knee. It would ease Keikr’s ire that Fox hadn’t armored up.

“The info you requested, sir.” Sketch dropped a datapad beside Fox, who tilted his head to offer Sketch an appreciative smile.

The first sign of the outsider vod being noticed was a shrill yelp from Hound. Keikr let out an angry shout, followed by a crash and scuffle and the distinctive sound of blasters cocking. Surprise and hurt shot through from Cody, and Fox’s mind jarred with the realization.

“HOLD!” Fox roared. He lurched to a vertical position. Instinctively, he knew blasters were moments from being fired. At his shout, everyone froze as training kicked in. The momentary pause was just long enough for the Corries to realize they were pointing their blasters at the outsider Marshal Commander, and for said Marshal Commander to overcome his instinctive urge to protect himself when blasters appeared in his direction.

“Kark you,” Keikr snarled. The first to recover, he slid his blaster in its holster and stalked over to Hound. The latter was beginning to list without Thorn’s support, and Keikr’s muttered cursing displayed his opinion of the matter.

“You all know better than to draw before you recognize the threat!” Fox scowled at his entire group. They all appeared suitably chastened, even Cody.

“Thire, git off Fox’s bed and let him sleep.” Keikr frowned at Hound’s side where he’d yanked the Sergeant’s blacks down to see the wound on his side. “I can’t tell if you ripped the stitches without taking the bacta off, and I don’t want to do that.”

Hound grumbled something under his breath. Cody busily gazed about the room with curious eyes. Thorn scooted so his back was against one of the few spaces of wall, observing the room. Fox flopped back again. He heaved an exhausted groan. Sketch turned on his heel.

“Respectfully, Commander, if you touch that datapad before you nap, I will shoot the next civvie in the door.”

Fox raised his head, “Do you have any idea how much paperwork that would cause?” he asked, mock aghast. 

Sketch shot him a dry look, “No more than if Keikr murders me because I obstructed your rest, sir.”

There was an irritable mutter from Fox at that. Thire laughed. Sketch ducked past Cody and out the door. Keikr was bullying Hound into a bed. Fox opened his eyes, blinking questioningly at the bunk above him. If Hound was on mandated rest, and Thorn was still on shift--and he knew he was--then that meant…

He shoved vertical again, “I’ll cover Hound’s shift.”

“Like hell you will!” Keikr snapped. “ You stay in bed. Thire, get off his bed.”

Cody glanced from one to another as the storm descended. Fox hesitated, debating his chances of being able to argue the medic out of his decision. Keikr had an eerie ability to know when somebody was injured, or in Fox’s case, just plain miserable. The headache had eased with the medicine, but in the short walk to the front desk and back, it had begun returning in full fervor. He knew Cody could feel it. Their bond had strengthened to the point Fox couldn’t hide behind his iron-will anymore.

“Thire got his shift.” Thorn pivoted on his heel to acknowledge Keikr’s concerned scowl. With a barely respectful, annoyed look at Cody, he swept out the door. Keikr subtly tilted his head to see Thire hadn’t moved. Instead, he stared after his little brother, mouth agape.

“Thire, get off Fox’s karking bed!” 

“You don’t get Commanders quarters?” Cody distracted everyone present. Hound’s eyes flickered open again. Fox didn’t bother. Thire blinked at Cody. Keikr glared heartily. 

“This is Commanders quarters…” Thire finally said, slowly. Cody made a show of counting everyone present.

“Where does Hound bunk?”

“Ah, here?” Fox had struggled to a sitting position again, brow wrinkled as he realized what Cody was going for. “Oh. Well with Stone gone its easy to sleep us four, Thorn, Thire, me, an’ Hound, here. When Stone’s gone, well,” he hesitated, “It’s still easy ‘cause usually two of us are on shift at all times. Unless there’s unusual circumstances, Stone and Thorn always have alternating shifts so they share a bunk.” He waved a hand at the top bunk opposite. 

Something unreadable crossed Cody’s face. He nodded his understanding. Keikr finished fussing with Hound, turning toward the door.

“You got my shift?” Hound double-checked with Thire, who nodded. Keikr paused in the doorway.

“Thire.”

Thire’s head snapped toward him. Keikr spoke pleasantly, all teeth. “Git. Off. Fox’s. Bed.”

Thire got.

~

Cody thinks he found Trapper.

Thinks.

The trooper is wearing the exact same copy-paste paint as the rest of the Corries, but something felt different about him. Cody hesitated only briefly before forcing his feet down the line. Ten troopers, in two neat ranks of five, awaited his instructions. He’d asked Fox for a squad of trustworthy Guards who would get around to everyone, and promptly received a squad plus one. 

They would be the carriers. Fox and Cody both agreed it was too dangerous to spread word via comms, which might or might not be compromised. These ten vode, Fox assured him, could get to all the brothers in the Guard, quietly. As he outlined the task, the Corries stood at quiet parade rest. He turned on his heel at the end of the line, marching back up for the sole purpose of going past the trooper-who-may-be-Trapper again.

“Keep this quiet,” he was saying even as his eyes scanned the group for any abnormalities. “Do not give an explanation. Just tell them that when the comm about a prison break for a red and white trandoshan is called, to immediately return to base. Sketch here,” he gestured, “will be checking the vode in. We are not taking questions at this time.”

A tiny disturbance rippled through the gathered ranks, gone before Cody could pinpoint its start. He hid his frustrations, calmly dismissing the troops. One swung by him on the way, and he cocked his head curiously.

“Commander,” the Corrie murmured, “Why are we not telling the men?”

Cody observed him quietly for a few moments, “Because they will get hope.” He said simply, “And hope, burning in a desolate valley, can be felt miles away by anyone mildly force sensitive. We cannot be risking giving ourselves away at this stage in the game, Tally. Now get on. You’ve got a squad to keep an eye on.”

The Corrie had a smile in his voice when he spoke again, “Thank you, sir.” He saluted, hurrying after his men. Cody let out a breath. He’d taken a gamble guessing it was Tally, but Tally had been the only regular Corrie to know their plans. Keikr boasted a medic’s symbol on his pauldron. 

Cody rubbed a hand over his face. He could feel Fox, unusually open, but distant. Sleeping, Cody knew. Good. He checked his comm, seeing if anything else from his General had come through. As expected, nothing appeared, just the last note informing Cody that they’d successfully retrieved the hyperspace coordinates from the ship Fox used on blackout missions, and were now on their way to Widek. They’d sent the Corrie who picked them up back to headquarters after burning the directions Fox had written down for them.

Cody sighed. The Chancellor, according to Sketch, would be off-world for another five hours, returning from one of his rare visits to another planet. Kenobi and Vos, if everything went according to plan, would be back on Coruscant with evidence in between three to four hours. As soon as an official arrest for Sheev Palpatine was garnered, Fox would recall all Corries to base, after which he’d give Cody the all-clear, and they would go Chancellor-arresting.

Cody groaned softly to himself. It would probably be easier to tack up a sign in the barracks stating hunting seasons for chancellors was now open, and let the Corries go after the man who’d made their lives so difficult. However, that would fling such backlash Fox refused to consider such a proposition. 

Cody checked his chrono and sighed.

~

“So….” Quin spun around in his chair, drawing an irritated glance from Obi-Wan. “How does the Chancellor initiate these ‘blackout missions’?” Hyperspace came and went across his vision as the chair slowly turned.

Obi-Wan shrugged, “We didn’t get that far. Sith magic, I assume.”

“Well obviously he takes control of the Corries. What’s to stop him from doing that when we march up there to arrest him?” Quin didn’t need evidence to believe what Fox and Obi-Wan told him. 

“We won’t have any Coruscant Guards with us,” Obi-Wan calmly replied. He still stared down at his datapad, quietly tapping away at something. “I’ll take Cody, but we’ll keep the others at a distance.”

“The 212th is on leave, right? Why not take some of them?”

Obi-Wan hummed.

“I mean, if the Sith is using Sith-ly magic to get into the Guards’ heads, we can counter that with Jedi-ly magic, right? So we can keep the clones safe if they’re with us.”

“‘S not magic,” Obi-Wan muttered absently. 

Quin gave the chair another little push, keeping him spinning. Obi-Wan appeared and vanished from his vision as he rotated. He was beginning to get dizzy. “Good, glad we agree. Sith magic will be countered with Jedi magic, and we’ll all be fine. You can take your precious Cody, but we’ll leave the Guard behind. Maybe take some 212th for back-up. Actually, I believe the 104th battalion is landing on Coruscant today. We could take Plo, and some of his vicious little Tasmanian Devils.”

Obi-Wan hummed again, but there was a plantation dissatisfaction in the noise this time, “Something is wrong with all this.”

Quin blatantly abused the Force to give his chair another spin, “Of course something’s wrong. An entire division of elite shock troopers have been abused right under our nose and nobody noticed.”

“No, no. Not that. The darkness in Fox’s mind. What chased me out. I don’t like it.”

“Naturally,” Quin flashed a dizzy little grin, “Nobody likes something that chases them out.” He let the chair coast to a stop.

“No, Quin. Something more. I feel like the Force is trying to tell me something about that darkness, but I can’t quite grasp it.”

“Maybe you should meditate,” Quin suggested. He shoved to his feet, promptly staggering into the side panel. He clung to it, abruptly realizing he was far dizzier than he’d thought. 

“I don’t know if I can,” Obi-Wan fussed. He set down his datapad, and picked it up again. 

“I can help,” Quin offered with a sly grin. Obi-Wan scowled at him. 

“You’re worse than Anakin,” he retorted. Quin chuckled. Moving meditation suited him much better than quietly sitting with his legs crossed. He dared release his hold on the control panel. With only a slightly-drunken stagger to his step, he made his way out of the cockpit.

Obi-Wan’s voice trailed after him, “Where are you going?”

“To meditate!” Quin wickedly replied. “With food!”

Chapter Text

General Kenobi : We are en-route with evidence. Calling the council to have them ready to move out by the time we land. Have Fox recall the Guard half an hour before we get there.

Cody fidgeted, rereading the comm for the dozenth time. Half an hour. That should be sufficient to gather the wayward Guards to their home base. Tally had reported back, only forty-five minutes ago, that the entire Guard, both on and off shift, were aware of the recall phrase and what to do. Cody had been impressed. They’d been forced to comb Coruscant, hunting down every single patrol throughout the levels. He knew Tally had sent two Corries to the Senate, and the pair of them managed to cover the entire, enormous building and the endless winding halls in a few short hours, catching every single Guard patrolling the sprawling complex. The little squad worked fast. 

He rose, pacing a few steps one direction, then wheeling to pace the other way. A faded path on the carpet showed he was not the first to do so. Fox’s office, if a vod looked hard enough, held all the evidence needed to see something was terribly wrong in the Guard. Maybe not what was wrong, but that it was wrong.

A fully stocked medical kit, not unusual in itself, but the paper-pushing Commander of a quiet unit would not need extra bacta and painkillers hidden in his office. The carpet, a dying red, contained a few suspicious patches of brighter red, only mildly faded with time, and slightly stiff. Cody had been aghast when the realization that it was blood had hit him. The carpet purposefully matched the color, he knew. The next realization struck him like a train as he recalled the Corrie-red paint. 

Blood-red paint. 

It would seem there were more uses than drawing attention for the brilliant red color on all Corrie armour. Fox’s office even held a small can of the paint, to touch up anything in need of it. 

A comm linked directly to the medbay sat in the top drawer, within easy reach. Under it, a sheet of flimsi with rules scrawled in hasty writing. Several small, dark spots crossed the paper. Faded blood marks.

Don’t leave HQ without a partner

Don’t backtalk Senators

Mind your thoughts, mind your mouth

No portraying ‘like’ or ‘dislike’ for anything outside HQ

Tell someone if you’re going out ( with a partner! )

Comm a Commander if you mess up

Internal affairs stay internal

The rules rambled onward, each offering a terrifying conclusion as to why such a rule had been implemented. At the bottom, a dire warning about eating anything offered by outsiders had been tacked on in different handwriting. It was signed simply, “The Medic”. Cody had seen Keikr’s loose, flowing handwriting. This vod had tight, anxious little letters, crammed into the small space. 

When had the Guard requested a replacement medic? What happened to the last one?

Cody shuddered. He reached for Fox as something flickered between them. Fox had let himself be more open, and Cody gently pushed calm and safe at him as he detected the fear and anxiety. He felt a little surge of satisfaction as the fear receded, Fox settling back into deeper sleep.

His comm dinged again. He startled from staring at the wall. Apprehensively, he opened it to see two messages. One blazed at him from the batch chat.

Wollfe : still alive Codes?

He tapped out a brief affirmative, wondering if Fox had let any of them know that he was also alive. He decided to let that lie for now. He didn’t have time to deal with his big brothers’ clamors by giving them just a little bit of the story. That would distract them, and a distracted Commander was a dead battalion. He opened the next message, which had multiplied in his momentary ignorance.

Sketch: awright Cmdr. 

Sketch : Fox tol me to let ye ken wen sheev came in.

Sketch : he’ll be in th senate in undr half hr.

Cody blinked. He read them again, slower. He quickly tamped down his first reaction of panic and carefully pulled the bond between him and Fox a little more shut. It wouldn’t do to wake his ori’vod up yet. He didn’t try puzzling through how Sketch got his comm code, and he had no doubt it was truly Sketch. The unique accent was somehow readable . Cody didn’t attempt to puzzle that out either. Why would Sketch use atrocious spelling and shortcuts, but punctuate his sentences nicely? Why was a front-desk Corrie on first-name basis with the Chancellor? Why did Sketch inspire so many kriffing questions every time he attempted to communicate?

Cody shoved that aside as well.

Under half an hour. The Chancellor was early. They were supposed to have another forty-five minutes. Cody moved to the door. It slid open, and a panicked vod nearly smacked into Cody.

“Commander, I-” he cut himself off as his eyes caught up with his mouth. “Commander Cody!” he gasped out, flailing backwards.

“At ease,” Cody immediately said. “What did you need Fox for?”

The trooper stared, no doubt wide-eyed under his helmet. “Uh, sir. Commander Thorn had a message.” He spoke hesitantly. Cody bit his lip. Obviously, the message wasn’t for him.

“Fox is asleep. Can I help?”

“No sir.” The trooper straightened up to attention. “This was a private message from Commander Thorn to Commander Fox concerning the… recent orders.”

“ That’s right. Fox never consulted his Command about this plan… ” Cody groaned to himself. At least Thorn was smart, sending back his questions via the same secure measures that the message had come in the first place.

Somebody abruptly slid between Cody and the Guard. He snapped out a few words in Mando’a, too quick for Cody to catch. The Guard nodded curtly. Spinning on his heel, he marched off down the hall. The interrupter turned, tugging their helmet off to reveal Tally.

“Sir. The Chancellor is in the Senate complex,” he reported. On cue, Cody’s comm chimed with the same message from Sketch. He thanked Tally. There was absolutely nothing anybody could do until they got word from Kenobi to recall the Guard. Everything had to continue as normal until then. Tally reluctantly came to the same realization. 

An entire, agonizing twenty minutes passed before a cryptic comm from Kenobi arrived.

General Kenobi : Cody, can you come up to the Temple?

Cody frowned, acknowledged the request, and marched off to himself a speeder. This had not been in the plan.

~

Fox stared down at the holopad in front of him. His eyes gazed straight through it, no matter how hard he tried to focus. He’d been woken nearly an hour ago by a riot of emotions from Cody, and after a quick recon, been told that Cody had been called to the Jedi Temple. Keikr half-heartedly attempted to get Fox back to bed, but quickly gave up. He’d gone to organize the medbay, Fox knew. 

Only minutes later, a message had come from Cody to recall the Guard. Fox had two vode signing them off on their way in. By now, he knew everybody was accounted for. Safe. They huddled in the barracks and mess, confused, and something akin to hope flitting in whispers among them.

Fox’s comm chimed, a specific, double ring. Fox felt his blood freeze. An hour and a half since the Chancellor had returned. Fox expected summons sooner, but he still felt his heart drop at the cold tones. He picked up the comm, silently watching as the messages leaked in, holopad before him forgotten.

20:43

Chancellor : Commander, would you report to my office?

20:48

Chancellor : Commander Fox. Report to my office

20:50

Chancellor : CC-1010, if you do not immediately respond and come to my office, you are at risk for reconditioning as a faulty unit.

Fox stared down at the comm, not opening the messages in order to not mark them read. A comm popped up from Cody. 

20:51

Cody : Sit tight, vod. We’re leaving the temple. Remember don’t let anybody out of the building.

20:51

Chancellor : CC-1010, if you don’t get up here in less than five minutes, I will personally come down and decommission as many Guards as I come across on my way.

They were coming.

They were coming to help the Guard, and the Chancellor was about to embark on a murder spree. He wouldn’t actually kill them; that would brand him as a killer for the adoring public. No, he’d have his secret assassins pick off the marked Guards, or send the paperwork through and force Fox to sign his brothers’ death certificates. Of course, he would be arrested and unable to do paperwork, but there will still a good chance that, as a Sith, he was more than able to hurt Fox’s vode even when arrested.

Fox felt something cold settle in his gut as he realized that despite all the care they’d taken, the Chancellor had gotten wind of their plan anyway. 

He checked the chronometer, gritting his teeth when he remembered he’d been instructed to not let a Guard set foot outside the building. He debated only a moment more. He was a Marshal Commander. Nobody in the building had the clearance to stop him if he decided to walk out.

20:52

CC-1010 : Apologies, Chancellor. My comm unit was malfunctioning and was just repaired. I shall be up there in two minutes, sir.

It was a flimsy excuse, but it would hold the man in place until he made it up there. Hopefully. Slipping on his helmet, he stepped quietly to the door. 

Tally greeted him with a falsely cheerful smile. “Commander Cody warned me that you might try to sneak out,” he said, tilting his head accusingly at Fox. “I told him you wouldn’t disobey your own orders given for your men’s safety.”

Guilt slammed into Fox. “I’m sorry, Tally.” 

“I am afraid I cannot let you leave the building,” Tally’s voice flattened, a protective edge slipping in. Fox raised an eyebrow.

“Tally, I can beat you at hand to hand. And I do not recommend shooting your commanding officer,” he hastily added as Tally’s fingers twitched toward the gun. “Trust me, Tally. I don’t want to sneak out and play the hero. I’m just going to talk to the Chancellor and settle his nerves. I’ll step aside as soon as Cody gets there. Promise.”

Tally hesitated, a pained look crossing his face. “We can’t lose you, sir. Not when we’re so close to the end.” He sounded heart broken.

Fox reached out, drawing the younger Guard into a hug. “Tall’ika, I’m not going to die. I don’t want to die anymore than you want me to. I’ll be safe, trust me.”

Tally huffed against Fox. “That’s what you always say…” he mumbled.

Fox scowled at the wall, but his voice was still gentle, “I’m sorry, Tally. I still need to go. Stay here at the door and tell anyone who asks that I’m inside. It’ll keep anyone else from trying to follow. That will make it so just one of us is breaking orders. It’ll keep the rest of Command safe.”

“Yessir…” Tally muttered. He pulled back, avoiding Fox’s eyes. Fox patted his shoulder. 

“Chin up, trooper. We’re the Guard, remember? We’ll make it through. We always do.”

Tally offered a watery smile, nodding a little. He swung back into parade rest against the wall beside Fox’s door. Fox turned down the hallway. He quickened his step as he suddenly remembered he’d told the Chancellor he’d be there in two minutes. By the time he cleared the base, he was running. 

He halted in the antichamber for the Chancellor’s office, taking several precious seconds to settle his breathing. Squaring his shoulders, he rapped sharply on the door and confidentaly strode in at the Chancellor’s irate call. 

“Commander!” The Chancellor rose, looking on the verge of throwing himself at Fox in anger. Fox respectfully assumed attention before the broad desk.

“Sir. You summoned me.” 

“Yes, Commander.” The Chancellor seized his patience with both hands and dragged it back down to himself. “It has come to my attention that you are participating in illicit activities, not fit for a man of your ranking.”

“Sir?” Fox channeled every inch of “confused, helpful clone” that he could muster. 

“You know what you’ve been doing!” Palpatine abruptly launched himself from the chair. It was only by virtue of his training that Fox didn’t reach for a blaster at the sudden movement. The supreme leader began pacing, mumbling to himself. Suddenly he stopped, staring at the clone Commander with a hungry, predatory glint in his eyes. Fox became uncomfortably aware of the silence when he heard the lock click behind them.

He kept himself at stiff attention as the Chancellor circled him, shark-like. The man’s muttered rambling would have been inaudible if it weren’t for Fox’s sensitive bucket picking up the sounds.

“So close! I will not let this go. If only I could have activated that damn chip! Shoulda tried distance activation before. He would have killed the Jedi, and been killed for treason. Everything in a neat little wrap. But no.” Palpatine shot Fox a venomous look. “You had to go wading in and ruin everything.”

Fox resisted the urge to apologize. If their game was truly up, he saw no reason to continue groveling to the man. He wondered why the Chancellor was being so open, and felt a sickening feeling, like a punch to the gut. How many times had Palpatine been incredibly open before, and Fox just couldn’t remember ? Perhaps he’d laid out his entire plans before the Commander, reveling in his horror before sweeping the memories into a dark chasm. 

Palpatine stopped in front of Fox, a decided expression on his face. “Take off your helmet. First things first: we need to get rid of that pesky connection that could lead the Jedi right to us.”

Chapter Text

They found a Corrie standing guard outside Fox’s office. The clone’s body language appeared startled for the briefest instant, then he transformed into a neutral, polite facade. The change would have only been noticeable to clones, or those who spent practically all their hours fighting among clones. The Jedi halted, clustered a short distance back. Within the Guard compound, Cody had led the way, his two brothers only a step behind. The Jedi kept on their heels, noting but not commenting on the wary, suspicious glances shot at them from the unusually crowded dining hall and the occasional random Guard passed in the hall. For Mace and Plo-Koon, the way the Corries were all dampened in the Force presented a bewildered picture of truth for Obi-Wan and Vos's words.

Cody nodded politely at the Corrie, reaching for the door keypad. The clone took a single, subtle step sideways, blocking the effort.

“I’m sorry, sir. Commander Fox is not taking visitors at this time.”

“Isn’t he awake?” 

“No sir.”

Cody hissed through his teeth in frustration. He wanted to see Fox before they marched off Chancellor-hunting, but he didn’t like the idea of waking him. He reached, probing at their bond. Although abnormally muted, it didn’t feel as though he was asleep.

“He’ll be upset if I don’t wake him for this,” Cody returned. He reached for the button again, cleverly feinting and darting around the determined Guard. As soon as the door began sliding open, Cody wedged himself through. The Guard let out a breathy little noise, yanking off his helmet. Kenobi offered a tiny grin, almost sure he recognized Tally.

Tally showed far less pleasure at the situation. His expression of woe and chagrin told a tale enough. Less than five seconds after entering, Cody appeared in the doorway. His face held no expression. The chill that swept him had nothing to do with the bond--the oddly silent bond--to his older brother. “Where’s Fox?”

“The Chancellor!” Tally was holding himself together remarkably well for the way he felt in the Force. “I’m sorry, sir! I tried to stop him.”

Cody whirled away. An impressive string of curses ripped from him. Obi-Wan raised a hand and awkwardly patted the Tally. Alarm rippled in the Force, then the Corrie snapped down on his emotions and his presence darkened. Obi-Wan withdrew with a reluctant little sigh. Cody abruptly ran out of curses and spun on his heel, stalking for the door. Wolffe and Ponds flanked him. Only Ponds checked over a shoulder to ensure the Jedi were following.

They had been lucky--or “in the grace of the Force” as the Jedi would say--that the 104th had gotten boots on Coruscant less than twenty minutes before Obi-Wan and Quin exited hyperspace, right on the heels of the 187th. Mace had been technically passing by Coruscant, but diverted when he received the intel from Obi-Wan and Quinlin. Now, they had gained two more Jedi, and two more Commanders.

Furious Commanders. 

“Cody.” Obi-Wan lengthened his stride to try and catch up with the fast-paced Marshal Commander. “Cody Cody Cody. Stop a minute.”

Cody visibly hesitated, and Obi-Wan was again struck with how easily the clones would turn on outsiders to protect their own. Then the moment had passed, and Cody assumed a rigid parade rest before his General. 

“We can’t just barge in half-cocked,” Obi-Wan admonished. Plo Koon, coming up beside him, nodded agreement. Mace also solemnly nodded. A strangled little sound came from Ponds, gone quick as it came. His bucket didn’t allow his expression to be seen. 

Cody blinked at his Jedi. “My brother is by himself, talking to somebody who has been abusing him and his men for two years,” he said evenly. 

“I know, I know,” Obi-Wan huffed a little in frustration. “Just.. can you feel him?”

He waited a moment as Cody reached out, eyes closed. A tiny frown rumpled his brow. “He’s… dampened.”

~

The room was silent of words, filled with quiet, mundane noises by themselves. Put together, they presented a terrifying picture for those who cared to listen. The soft, steady tap-tap of liquid against the floor. The soft pattering of footsteps pacing around the room. Tightly-controlled breaths falling just shy of ragged. The footsteps circled the room again, coming to stop before the soul who dared defy them.

 Fox snarled, low and dangerous. Blood ran from his nose, slowly dripping off his chin. Palpatine chuckled. 

“Oh, pet. You don’t think I’m scared of you, do you?”

“You should be,” Fox snarled. “I’m going to kill you.” There was not a trace of pity or hesitance in the cold tone.

The Chancellor laughed aloud this time, “CC-1010, don’t you think you’ve tried? Your chip gave out once. Too much turning on and off, I guess. And yet here I stand, and there you… not stand.” He contemplatively looked down at Fox. Fox’s eyes sparked as he noted the smoldering anger in the Chancellor’s eyes. He’d gone for the Force bond once already, and struck a wall with such searing pressure he’d recoiled with a pained cry. Fox could only guess that his shields had strengthened. Now, he shuddered in surprise as the Chancellor continued. “You went berserk, came after me because I killed another clone. I was forced to implement Sith magic to keep the chip together. It worked quite well, if I do say so myself.” He stared hard, flinty eyes boring into Fox. Tendrils of something brushed Fox’s mind, seeking along his shields and tapping for a way in. They held solid.

He turned, pacing away again. Fox’s breaths came easier as the furious pressure melted away. He couldn’t last forever, he knew. From the angry sputtering after he’d denied entry to his mind, Fox had gathered that the darkness Kenobi had mentioned had been a gateway of sorts, allowing the Sith to mess with his memories and this “chip” thing however he liked, despite Fox’s strong mental shields. However, the Jedi had left light. As far as Fox’s understanding went, the light was a broken key in a lock, Palpatine needed that broken key out, and Fox or a Jedi were the only one who could get it out.

A Sith would not call a Jedi for help.

Palpatine appeared behind Fox, effortlessly keeping the Commander pinned on his knees with invisible bonds. He raked a hand through the curly hair, jerking cruelly at the tangles. Fox knew he should have cut it; he just hadn’t gotten the time. Palpatine moved to stand in front of him, his hands sliding to brace either side of Fox’s head.

“Let’s try this again, shall we?” 

The unhurried movements and total lack of alarm told Fox that while the Chancellor was suspicious and angry, he was not aware of the impending doom marching down from the Jedi Temple at this very moment. 

“ Good ,” Fox thought viciously. He just had to keep it that way; keep the Sith entertained and distracted so he didn’t notice until his door burst open and his accusers flooded in.

The Chancellor closed his eyes, and Fox felt fresh blood slowly trickling from his nose, a muted background fact against the searing pain crashing into his mind.

~

“Is he more dampened than usual?” Vos piped up from near the back of the gaggle of Jedi. 

“It's hard to tell,” Cody muttered, dark eyes flicking open again. Concern clouded his expression. “He often gets distant and quiet, but I want to say this is more so than usual.”

Obi-Wan nodded sharply, “Let’s go, but move with caution. We can’t risk Fox’s wellbeing in trying to catch the Chancellor.”

The three clone Commanders nodded as one. Cody slipped his bucket on. As they turned away, Wolffe stepped sideways, jostling Cody. The younger Commander let out a little whuff as he hit the solid wall of Ponds. By the tilt of their helmets, Obi-Wan guessed they were viciously arguing over comms. He subdued a little smile as he noted Cody’s posture ease the barest bit. His batchmates knew how to settle their youngest.

The eternity it took to get to the Chancellor’s office was filled with leaden silence. The small group of Jedi that Mace had managed to pull together in such a short order were shocked, still not wanting to believe the news and evidence presented by Quinlin and Obi-Wan. The clone Commanders, as expected, were tense and curt at the idea of their brothers in danger.

Plo Koon knocked politely at the Chancellor’s door. Everyone caught their breath, hoping for a peaceful resolution to the “problem”. For a long, long, moment, only silence greeted them.

“Come in!” a kindly old voice finally called out. Wolffe smacked the open button, nearly striding in before his General. He checked himself in time, allowing the Jedi to quietly file through before he stepped in behind Cody. Ponds brought up the rear. 

He swept the room the instant he had a clear visual. Nothing. Absolutely no hint of Fox. He frowned, gaze crossing the room again as though he could have missed the brilliant Corrie-red armor against the bland room. In one corner, a table with an ornamental vase stood slightly askew. The vase, oddly enough, lay on the floor in the shadows.

Fox was not in the room.

“Which begs the question, where the kark is he?” Ponds muttered over the comms as if reading Wolffe’s thoughts.

“Gentlemen.” The Chancellor sounded pleasantly surprised, “I did not know we had an appointment. How may I help you?”

The Jedi faltered. Here was the same kindly old man they’d remembered, and for a moment they struggled to connect it to the evidence produced against him. Cody stepped forward. His voice was dangerously controlled when he spoke.

“You are under arrest, Sheev Palpatine.”

Confusion and hurt crossed the old man’s face. “What have I done?” He sounded suitably chagrined. Kenobi stepped forward right before Cody could spout off a very provocative phrase that would no doubt send the room spiraling into chaos. They were, after all, going to try the peaceful route. 

~

Fox heard them come in. Polite greetings and inquiries exchanged. He blinked, clearing the gray from his eyes. When the knock on the door sounded, Palpatine had chucked Fox behind the desk with enough force he’d been unable to react when he heard his brother’s low snarl.

He reached for Cody, but winced when he hit the barrier Sheev had tossed up between them. It was temporary, hasty, but stood like beskar against Fox’s inexperienced probing. He could faintly feel Cody, muffled and distant. His fingers slid down to his blaster, only to find it gone, jerked from its holster when he’d tried to draw on the Chancellor.

He shifted a little, his scattered mind gradually creeping back to him. The Chancellor casually dropped a hand below the desk, and Fox instantly found himself pinned to the floor. He felt sudden, tightly controlled anger sweep him. He fought back the overwhelming urge to give in to it, his mind shrieking that it did not belong to him. He was the logical, coolheaded one, more so than even Ponds or Bly since he began working with senators. This had to be coming from Cody.

It wasn’t.

Palpatine glanced down, and their eyes met for a half second. His glowed golden and viper-like. Fox shuddered, the darkness of the Sith’s angry explorations weighing heavy on him. He tried to pry himself from the floor, finding it impossible. His gaze darted toward his blaster, kicked hastily behind the fallen vase when the knock had sounded.

Beyond him, the argument between the Jedi and Chancellor had grown more heated, despite staying the same volume.

Cody gnawed his lip in anxiety. He could hear an odd clicking noise over the in-helmet comms. A distant part of his mind relayed the information that it was Wolffe, lightly clicking his teeth together as he’d always done when nervous or angry. 

Despite thinking he had been paying the ensuing conversation close attention, he found himself startled when the Jedi began a polite retreat from the room. Hesitating, he cast a glance between the Chancellor and Kenobi. His general shot him a stern look, and he reluctantly fell in behind Ponds and filed out the door. In the antechamber, Vos rapidly rounded, bringing the entire group to a rapid halt.

“What are we doing?” His frustration was evident in his tone. “We told him he would be arrested, and then we walk out!”

“He brought up valid points,” Mace gently reminded them. 

Vos let out an incomprehensible noise. The trio of Commanders, as one, tugged off their helmets and tucked them under one arm. The clones had quickly learned the Jedi preferred talking face-to-face, even if the preference had never been spoken aloud.

Obi-Wan took over the conversation. “If the general public sees him being marched up to the Temple, they’ll panic. Who knows what they might do. Opinions have been turning against the Jedi, for the part we’re playing in this war. We need to broadcast what’s happening before they see their supreme, trusted leader arrested and escorted away by Jedi.”

“Why the Temple?” Wolffe piped up. “The Guard has perfectly good holding cells.”

“He’s a Sith , you di’kut.” Ponds knocked his brother across the head. “You don’t just stick those in a regular holding cell. You gotta have… Sithly containment cells.” He glanced for support from his general. Mace nodded. Plo offered a reluctant agreement as well. 

“And Kenobi is right. The public could storm the Temple, or the Senate, if they feel some wrong has been bestowed upon their kindly, old grandfather of a leader.”

“Ok. All right, then.” Wolffe rubbed his hands together briskly. “One of you goes live on broadcast. Tell the folks of Coruscant what’s up. And while you do that, we arrest the-”

“Commander.” Po-Koon broke in. Wolffe wilted a little. Vos, who’d been rapidly gaining a maniacal grin, sighed. 

“He’s got a good idea, though,” Mace rubbed his chin, “We could broadcast our message, and take Sheev Palpatine into custody while they think about it. Then we’ll take him over. He didn’t seem combative. It’s truly difficult to believe the evidence you have brought against him.” He reluctantly admitted. Vos bristled.

“Cody?”

The little huddle of arguing Jedi and clones hesitated, looking as one first at Kenobi, then his Commander. For the first time, they appeared to realize their two greatest leaders had scarcely chimed into the conversation at all. Cody, preoccupied with some internal war, and Kenobi, picking up on his Commander’s withdrawn attitude, watching him in concern. Cody, pale as a cloud and face contorted in pain, made brief eye contact with Kenobi.

Then he collapsed. 

Chapter Text

Fox felt the moment Palpatine switched off his polite, grandfatherly facade and turned his sharpened teeth on his victim. The pressure pinning him released, and he gasped for breath, unable to move before Palpatine had pounced upon him, a hand on either side of his head.

Silence again descended in the office as both were still and silent, waging a war nobody could see. This time, Fox felt his shields cracking under the furious onslaught. Palpatine harnessed his sheer anger and frustration, pounding it all against his stubborn Commander’s shields.

When he finally broke away, snarling angrily, Fox slumped down, fighting to control his nausea and pounding headache. It felt as though somebody had taken a vibroblade and shoved it through his temples. Gingerly, he rolled to his knees and paused to let his body accept the movement.

He scooted back a few steps, putting distance between him and the Sith. Shakily, he gained his feet. Palpatine leaned against his desk, obviously wearing himself down with his efforts, but scowling fiercely at Fox.

“Clones!” he spat. “You were meant to have pliable minds, to bend to the chips and my will.” A glint of something flashed in his eyes.

“We all run a bit to the stubborn side of the tank.” The words were out of Fox’s mouth before he realized. Palpatine’s face contorted in fury. Fox swiftly darted back a step. He wiped a hand under his nose, feeling the trickle of blood dribbling over his lips. His foot hit his blaster, but he dared not reach down and pick it up. Not yet.

“We were created to fight. You’re just one more battle,” Fox spat. “I’ll walk away from this, but not until you’re dead. Dead, to pay back for all my brothers’ lives you’ve stolen with a flick of your finger. You may be powerful, but I’ve been waiting on this for years.”

“Enough!” Palpatine straightened, his cold voice shaking with rage. “CC-1010, execute order 14.”

Fox stiffened, the words washing over him in a soothing waterfall. His tired body and aching mind faded into pleasant numbness, his mind eagerly reaching for the words.

Wait. No. No! Kill him! Don’t-

He retreated in his mind, throwing up barriers as the cool relief spread throughout his war-torn thoughts. Back and back he fled, until he touched something bright, untainted. He seized it, recognizing Cody’s presence. The words swept over, trying to bury him. He clung to the piece of light, letting everything else fade. His fleeting thoughts vanished, buried under the addictive calm sensation. His body straightened to attention. The Chancellor stood before him, and he stood ready to serve his leader.

“Much better,” the Chancellor sighed. “Now, CC-1010, we had a little problem to solve, didn’t we?”

~

Obi-Wan instantly dropped down, his outstretched hand softening Cody’s fall with the Force. Cody’s helmet clattered against the floor. Ponds automatically scooped it up as he fell into a crouch beside his little brother. Obi-Wan tugged his Commander over, scowling in concentration. His hand rested on Cody’s armored forearm as he mentally traced the bond. Stains of darkness crept toward him, and he hastily shoved them back. 

There.

Solid, dark, and impenetrable. Fox could put up shields, but this wasn’t Fox, nor was it shields. This reeked of Sith darkness, encapsulating Fox’s mind. Obi-Wan looked up at the expectant and worried ring of faces. 

“A Sith got Fox’s end of the bond,” he murmured. Quinlin paled. All the rest merely appeared bewildered by the statement.

“What-” Mace began, but Obi-Wan cut him off, springing to his feet.

“Fox went to the Chancellor’s office. Moments after we tell him bad news, Fox’s mind is compromised. Let’s go. We can deal with the public fall-out later. Quin, stay here. Don’t let that connection break!” 

Quin sputtered in confusion. “How am I supposed to stop it?” his hands hesitantly hovered over Cody. Obi-Wan shot him a look.

“You created it. Strengthen it now. Judging from Cody, Fox would be dead without that bond. I won’t let the Guard pay such a price for their freedom.”

~

Many people, seeing the red, white and black Commander sitting behind his desk or strolling at the head of a patrol, assumed that the Coruscant Guard Commander had little experience in the field. His armour bore no evidence of fighting, the paint laid on in even swashes, not a chip missing. His blaster, perfectly spotless, rested snugly in his holster, appearing almost too tight to easily draw. He always kept it on stun. His neat writing, dashing signature, and charming politeness lulled people, even other vode, into believing he was a desk-man who appeased the people.

Fox’s own batchmates--while knowing Fox’s fighting abilities--believed their spitfire, cunning little brother to be pushing paperwork for the past two years.

Only the Corries knew otherwise. They’d seen him, blood dripping, bare his teeth at a criminal who dared ambush a patrol. They’d run by his side in pursuit across the underworld. They’d hesitated, almost balking as he flung himself across chasms and through fire. In time, they’d learned to keep stride with him; to run as he did. It was Fox who’d taught his Commanders how to fight dirty, to stay low, to vanish. He’d taught them how to hold their tongue, and how to keep themselves between danger and their men. He’d shown them the merciless world that was Coruscant, and protected them with all he had.

His paint was perfect because as the face of the Coruscant Guard, he was expected to always look sharp. His armour bore no chips and scratches because all too often, Keikr submitted a request for new armour as his Commander lay in the medbay, his own protection ruined beyond use, or missing entirely. Quite often after a blackout mission, Fox returned to his office to find a newly painted set waiting on his couch.

His blaster fit so snug because he’d carefully packed the holster after a tussle with a criminal resulted in it being stolen, and killing one of his men. Now, the blaster rested on stun, and it couldn’t be snagged from his holster by the bold criminals.

Fox had not grown soft in two years. He’d been sharpened, honed, beaten to a brutal edge.

It was this Fox that met the Jedi who burst through the door. A Fox who’s free-will and ingenuity had been stolen, but priceless years of information and skill channeled to one thing.

Kill.

Obi-Wan actually yelped, the Force speeding his movements as he whipped up his saber barely in time to deflect the shot. Something shattered to the side. Nobody looked. Mace and Plo fanned out to either side, their Commanders sticking close. For a moment, nobody seemed to even realize who had ambushed them.

Then Ponds let out a strangled cry. “Fox!”

The deadly stream of blasterfire instantly shifted. Mace’s lightsaber sprang into action. Ponds ducked behind his General. 

“Chancellor Palpatine, you are under arrest!” Obi-Wan shouted above the blasterfire. The Chancellor glanced up from his desk, as though just noticing the fight that had broken out.

“Ah, Jedi. You’re back.” He rose, ambling around his desk. For a moment, he observed Fox’s deadly aim, working to get around Mace’s lightsaber. Then he tilted his head, murmuring, “CC-1010, I think they’ve had enough.”

Instantly, the bolts ceased. Fox lowered his gun, stepping back beside the Chancellor. The old man looked at the gaping Jedi, and their furious, lurking Commanders.

“I knew you’d be back. How fortunate that you brought your Commanders with you. I do note one is missing…” he frowned in genuine puzzlement, but comfortable with his plan, dismissed Cody and Vos. 

“What did you do to Fox?” Ponds’s voice shook imperceptibly. The Chancellor glanced over in surprise. Fox stood at stiff attention only a few short feet away. His blaster had stayed in hand, his helmet hiding any glimpses of his thoughts.

“Oh, you mean him?” Before he could get any further, Mace extended his lightsaber.

“You are under arrest. Come quietly, or we’ll be forced to take drastic measures.”

“Oh dear me!” The Chancellor fussed. “Drastic measures with a poor old man! I hardly deserve such treatment… execu-”

Obi-Wan lept. Blue saber crackling, he pounced for the Sith with deadly intent. The Chancellor began to move, but before he’d twitched, Fox had intercepted the Jedi. 

Fox intercepted , and Obi-Wan turned off his saber, twisting sideways to keep from slicing the Commander in two. Nevertheless, they collided hard. Fox rolled his momentum neatly, coming up on one knee with his blaster trained on the fallen Jedi. As the first bolt fired, Plo shoved his blaster aside with the Force. The shot went wide. 

Then Obi-Wan had regained his feet, lightsaber humming in hand. Wolffe pounced on Fox from the side as the Jedi made for the Chancellor. A red lightsaber had appeared from nowhere, an ugly look on the Chancellor’s face as he moved to attack the determined Jedi.

Obi-Wan ducked and spun, flawlessly keeping in tune with the dance he knew so well. The lightsabers hissed and clashed in a deadly crescendo. With three of them, all playing off each other, the Chancellor found himself hard-pushed. Obi-Wan hadn’t expected the blasterfire in the sudden pause in their duel as the four separated, breathing hard. The Chancellor lept back a step, deflecting. 

Wolffe edged around the circle of fighting Jedi, keeping behind his General as he plied the Sith with a fast stream of blasterfire. While the Jedi caught their breath, the Chancellor was forced to keep moving, deflecting the bolts. Plo batted away the few that made it back towards his Commander. 

Obi-Wan twisted to glance behind him as he caught sight of Ponds hovering behind Mace. Apparently they’d taken care of Fox. He lay against the wall, motionless. Ponds caught the hasty glance of concern.

“Wolffe got in a lucky blow,” he called in explanation. “He’s out cold, and should stay so until we take care of this-” his string of insults would have made a smuggler blush if they’d been audible over the sudden clashing of lightsabers.

The Chancellor was sent reeling from a particularly enthusiastic Force push from Obi-Wan. He struck the wall, only a few feet from where Fox still lay. The Jedi held back a moment, gathering themselves for what appeared would be the final effort. 

Abruptly, the room exploded in light. 

Wollfe and Ponds flattened themselves, following their soldiers’ instincts. Wolffe peeked up, horror cascading over him. The Chancellor stood tall, red saber glowing over his maniacal expression. One hand upraised, he sent bolts of lightning to each Jedi. The Jedi writhed in pain. Somebody was screaming. Sights and sounds hammered against Wolffe. Fox made a small figure only a few feet from the Sith’s feet.

The Sith dropped his hand. The Jedi wilted, gasping for breath amid soft groans of pain. Only Obi-Wan remained on his feet. Swaying dangerously, lightsaber held dangling, he obviously was not fit to fight anymore. 

Ponds began firing. Wolffe gained his feet, following suit. The Sith batted away the shots without any apparent effort.

“Now it's your turn, clones ,” he announced, a sickly grin on his ugly face. His voice raised triumphantly to be heard over the blaster fire. “Execute-!” 

The Chancellor suddenly stiffened, his lightsaber ceasing movement. Wolffe and Ponds, as one, withheld their fire. Two small, round holes had appeared in his chest as if by magic. He slowly, slowly turned, gaze traveling down. Fox, propped against the wall, blaster in hand, fired again.

Eyes wide open, the Sith slowly slid down the wall, lips still moving, words coming out breathless and soft. “Execute…order..order…” he gathered his last energy, turning to stare at Fox. His lips moved, too soft for Wolffe and Ponds to hear. Fox jerked. The Chancellor slumped. 

For a long, breathless moment, silence reigned in the war-torn room. 

“Fox…?” Ponds hesitantly attempted. Fox twitched, shifting to get to his feet. His helmet hid any expression that could have given away his emotions. He stumbled, using the wall as support to stand. Wolffe’s eyes fixed on the blaster, held in Fox’s shaking hands.

Fox’s hands never shook.

“Get down !” Wolffe roared. Even the Jedi, unaccustomed to taking orders, had heard the life-saving cry on the battlefield enough to obey without hesitation. Wolffe threw himself behind an ornate couch, already shredded by lightsabers, but still good cover. Blaster fire peppered the room for a tense few seconds. Abruptly, it halted.

Wolffe carefully peered around his cover, hands automatically switching his own blaster to stun. Fox stood motionless, blaster held loosely in one hand while his other slid along his belt, gloved fingers searching for something.

“He’s out of ammo,” Ponds called from across the room. He rose, confident in his decision. “Fox. Hey, Fox. Can you hear me?”

The visor drifted toward Ponds, but Fox made no move. Ponds edged closer, blaster trained on his brother. “It’s over, Fox. The fight is over. You’re safe now. Put down your blaster.”

“Commander, I don’t think that’s going to work!” Obi-Wan spoke up from where he watched the proceedings. “Stun him before he hurts himself or somebody else!”

Reluctantly, Ponds raised his blaster. Still, Fox didn’t budge. His visor had fixated on Ponds. His fingers twitched a little. Wolffe narrowed his eyes as Fox eased down a little, almost into a predatory crouch.

“Do it!” he yelled, just as Ponds squeezed the trigger. Ponds sputtered out a curse as Fox dropped under the stun. He shot to his feet, closing the distance between them fast. 

Too fast. 

Fox flicked a hand away from his belt, toward his brother. Ponds hit the floor. His blaster skidded a short distance. Fox ignored it. He snapped his wrist down, the small black cylinder he held shooting out into a deadly baton.

Wolffe snarled as the lethal weapon that was his brother turned to him. Stalking forward, Fox shifted his grip on the baton. 

Whatever was in his mind, controlling his body, did not have easy access to his memories. If it did, it would have realized that Wolffe would not be as easy as Ponds. Wolffe did not encumber himself with trying to not hurt his batchmates during a spar. He lived by the idea that if they got a bit banged up, good. Perhaps they’d improve their technique. Ponds, as the eldest, felt responsibility to keep all his younger brothers in prime condition. Wolffe felt no such responsibility.

So it was, as Fox dove for him, Wolffe sprang to meet him.

For a moment, the two hung suspended in time, facing each other with the intent pounded into them from childhood. Fight.

Wolffe twisted at the last moment. His stun round dissolved on the ceiling. Fox tucked and rolled, coming up on his feet. Wolffe wheeled, closing the distance between them before Fox could. He hated the idea of shooting his brother, even with a stun. As they clashed, grappling, his fingers found the release for Fox’s helmet and shoved it up.

Fox yanked back, startled. His helmet clattered to the floor, and Wolffe’s attack stuttered to a halt. Fox looked awful. His eyes were bloodshot, and empty. Blood, partly dried, traced a stream from his nose down his neck. An ugly bruise shaded a little of his neck visible, extending down under his armor on the right shoulder. Wolffe would have taken bets that something was broken there.

He stood motionless, locked against Wolffe. His breath came in hitched gasps. Wolffe kept a tight grip on Fox’s wrist, keeping the baton shoved down and away.

In the pause, Obi-Wan darted from his cover, racing over to the Chancellor. Fox spun toward him, twisting his wrist from Wolffe’s hand. For a moment, he stood frozen, fixated on the Jedi. Then, without hesitation, he threw himself toward Obi-Wan. Wolffe shouted. Obi-Wan whipped around. He lithely slid sideways, barely avoiding the descending baton. Electricity crackled from the end as Fox changed his grip.

Wary now, Fox backed off a step. He shifted to take in Wolffe, who edged closer. Obi-Wan held a hand out toward Fox, who snarled unintelligibly at the Jedi.

“The Chancellor did something…” Obi-Wan murmured, his eyes drifting shut, “He said something that completely hooked Fox under his mind, even after death. I can feel the darkness, but something is holding it, tethering it to his mind.”

Wolffe hardly heard the rest of the words after “death”. The Chancellor was dead. Fox had done it. After years of torture and abuse, he’d managed to end the reason for it all. Wolffe didn’t know the full story, but the little bits that Cody had told him had filled him with a chilling anger. Now, his eyes flicked between Obi-Wan and Fox.

Both appeared focused, but while Obi-Wan possessed a calm, determined focus, Fox appeared to be struggling. Expressions flitted across his face, there and gone too quick to even decipher.

“...he’s fighting to come back,” Obi-Wan announced softly. Eyes still closed, he kept a hand outstretched toward the Coruscant Commander. Fox abruptly staggered a step, the baton falling from his hands. He shook his head. As he took another steadying step, Wolffe realized he heavily favored his left leg.

Obi-Wan abruptly yelped. His eyes shot open in confusion. Fox regained his balance, eyes narrowing dangerously at the room’s occupants. Breathless, Obi-Wan ducked for cover as Fox came for him. Wolffe bounded to intercept. He scarcely heard the General’s frantic explanation as he strove to meet Fox blow for blow. 

“It’s the darkness again!” the Jedi gasped out, “The same that drove me out last time!” He twisted, staring at the Chancellor. “We need to get him out of here. Maybe he’s just alive enough to spread his Sithly influence!”

Fox suddenly faltered. Wolffe, expecting him to still be moving, awkwardly tipped off balance. The next moment, Fox drew back. A light cough shook his frame. He wiped a hand across his face, drawing it away bloody. Whether it came from his nose--which had begun bleeding again--or a cut in his mouth, Wolffe didn’t know.

Plo and Mace had sprang forward at Obi-Wan’s words, seizing the Sith between them. They dragged him from the room, casting concerned backward looks. Obi-Wan followed them to the door. Fox’s gaze followed them in a predatory, yet somehow hesitant manner.

“Fox,” Wolffe murmured. Fox jerked, glazed eyes snapping back to focus. He stared at Wolffe, almost in confusion. Wolffe stepped toward him cautiously. A flash of movement by the door drew Fox’s attention again. Wolffe hesitated, then briefly glanced over.

Cody stood there, supported by Quin. His face, shockingly pale, showed the sheer determination known so well by his batchmates. 

“Fox!” His sharp voice belied his fragile, white-washed appearance.

Fox dropped into a focused crouch. Cody stopped, Vos still by his side. Wolffe glanced between them, realizing where Fox’s attention had snapped to. 

“Cody, he’s after the Jedi!”

Chapter Text

Obi-Wan and Quinlin bolted in opposite directions as Fox pounced forward. Left without support, Cody stumbled forward a step. Fox turned at the last moment, his pauldron glancing off Cody’s as he spun after Vos. Cody sat down abruptly, seeming to consider the effort of standing too much. His face screwed up in concentration, eyes tightly shut.

Quin whirled to meet Fox, but hesitated at the blank-eyed clone who lunged for him. For a breathless moment, they tangled. Then Quin sent Fox skidding backwards with a Force shove. He retreated, spouting curses. A hand protectively pressed against his abdomen, where Fox must have gotten a good hit in. 

“What is wrong with him?” he yelped, taking cover behind Wolffe. The latter briefly glanced over the Jedi to insure he wasn’t injured too badly before refocusing on Fox.

“The Chancellor did something to him. We can’t snap him out of it. He appears to be trying to kill the Jedi.”

Quin let loose another string of curses, gingerly probing his newly forming bruise. “Well then maybe you should know he took my knife.”

“What?” Wolffe squawked. Vos’s mumbled explanation barely reached his ears. He stared at Fox. Baton in one hand, the other dropped low at his side. He turned to keep Obi-Wan in view, and his lowered hand flashed something bright. Wolffe swore. Just what he needed; mentally absent Fox with a knife. Fox’s skills with a knife had outshone his batchmates, Wolffe taking second-best rating.

“Cody, don’t,” he warned as he noticed his little brother shifting to be between Fox and Obi-Wan. “He’ll go through you to get the Jedi.” 

Cody had regained his feet, and determinedly kept them. Obi-Wan moved forward to take hold of his Commander’s elbow.

“Can you feel him?”

“I did,” Cody replied. “I felt him for a moment, then he was gone. I can’t reach him. It’s like our bond never existed, but worse. Like a dam about to burst.” His words were sharply bitten off, eyes tight with pain.

Fox stood motionless, eying both Jedi as though attempting to choose the best meal at a buffet. 

“We need to take him down before he hurts himself or anyone else.”

“Little late, for both of those,” Quinlin grunted irritably. Their discussion was cut short as Fox suddenly made for Obi-Wan. Cody stepped in front, briefly touselling before Obi-Wan yanked him aside. The knife glittered in the office’s bright lights as Fox flipped it back to his side, barely missing Cody.

Obi-Wan darted forward, shoving Cody back so forcefully that the Commander stumbled, in real danger of losing his feet entirely. He could feel the bond, distant and blocked off. The pressure made his head ache abysmally, sharp pains lashing through with every movement. He focused on getting ahold of the pain, shoving it back. He wouldn’t be able to help if he could barely stand. He steadied himself, mentally checking out of his body’s protests. Finally, he looked back up to the fight.

Obi-Wan had backed off, allowing Quinlin to take the lead. The Jedi used a borrowed knife--that looked suspiciously like Wolffe’s--to attempt disarming Fox. Cody glanced sideways, his gaze landing on Ponds. Even as he watched, one outflung hand twitched a little. Cody moved toward him.

“Ponds. Get up.” He nudged him, his boot clicking against his brother’s plastoid armor. Ponds stirred groggily. After a few more gentle kicks, he roused sufficiently to roll to his knees and answer Cody’s questions.

They both jerked to attention when a sudden silence blanketed the room. Quinlin had backed off, a hand clamped over his side and pained grimace marring his tattoos. His own knife peeked up from where he’d tucked it in his belt, Wolffe’s borrowed knife in his free hand.

“Did he get stabbed?”

Cody swore. His eyes flitted to Fox. Despite being controlled somehow, he still retained the uncanny knowledge that had gained him his name. Now, he stood behind the desk, lessening the chance of allowing the enemy to circle him. Blood stained his armour in frightening amounts, and ran from his nose in fresh rivulets. He coughed once, and Cody winced at the awful sound.

“Commander Fox.”

All attention in the room slid toward Obi-Wan. He stood opposite the desk. Fox cast him a wary expression, filled with cold hatred. Obi-Wan forged on.

“Commander, what are your current orders?”

Everyone’s eyes darted back to Fox, wondering why they hadn’t thought to ask such themselves. Fox blinked, hesitating obviously. “Order 66,” he grated out, as if that explained everything. He coughed again, then continued at Obi-Wan’s inquisitive nudge. “All Jedi are traitors to the Republic and must be executed. Anyone found aiding them are guilty of the same, and treated to an equal punishment.”

Astonished silence took up the entire room. Cody’s head swirled as he tried to process the words. Jedi. Traitors to the Republic, and anyone who helped… even his own brothers! 

“Now listen here, you little-” Wolffe began. Ponds smoothly cut him off.

“Fox, you were lied to. The Jedi are not traitors. The Chancellor betrayed you.”

For the first time, something akin to doubt flashed across Fox’s face. Obi-Wan turned slightly to softly murmur, “He’s hurting, and confused. I can feel at least that much in the Force. He’s trying to find his way back.”

Determination lit Cody’s face. He moved forward to stand just behind his Jedi, repeating Ponds’ words.

“The Chancellor betrayed you, Fox. Not the Jedi.”

“No, you’re lying.” Fox sounded unsure despite his bold words. Cody stepped forward. Fox took a step back. His baton had been lost in an earlier scuffle, and Quin had managed to snag the knife, despite being stabbed by it. Weaponless, Fox’s logical mind worked enough to inform him that Cody had plenty of weapons, and therefore Fox stood at a disadvantage. He took another step back. “You’re wrong. The Chancellor is our master.” He spat. “ You are the traitors. I’m not ‘fox’. I’m CC-1010.”

“No, you’re Fox. My ori’vod.” Cody took another step, obviously pushing limits with Fox. Ponds edged forward, opening his mouth to say something, then snapping it shut. Cody knew as well as any of them what happened when Fox was cornered.

“The Jedi are traitors,” Fox murmured.

“The Jedi are good . They have done nothing wrong,” Cody replied softly. He’d gotten around the edge of the desk.

Fox backed another step, his heels scuffing the floor. One foot kicked the blaster he’d taken from Ponds earlier. Without taking his eyes off Cody, he scooped it up. His batchmates hesitated. The Jedi froze.

“I had it on stun,” Ponds whispered, barely loud enough for Cody and Wolffe to hear. Fox stepped sideways, his fingers nimbly checking the gun while keeping it pointed toward the others. A click sounded, loud in the silence.

“Well, it’s not on stun anymore,” Wolffe helpfully offered.

“Cody, back off,” Obi-Wan tersely ordered. 

Cody stubbornly didn’t move. “You won’t shoot me, Fox. You won’t shoot your vod’ika.”

The blaster wavered, then gradually descended. A collective breath eased from the room. Wolffe fingered the blaster in his holster. He’d been unable to shoot his brother before, even with a stun. However, at the rate they were going, Fox would kill or be killed in his stubborn tenacity.

Cody stood motionless, only a few feet from Fox. His lips showed blood-red against the white of his face as he fought against the building pressure from the bond, teeth biting his lower lip in an attempt to keep himself focused. Fox shifted a little, and staggered as his leg started to give out. He steadied through sheer will. His eyes, eerily vacant, abruptly sharpened in focus. Obi-Wan, standing just behind Cody, wrinkled his brow in concern.

“Fox, don’t-”

The blaster came up, unwavering.

They thought he might be fighting the Sith’s influence. They hoped he would hesitate, blaster trained on a brother he would gladly die for. They didn’t realize the chip, once taken hold, couldn’t be resisted. They didn’t consider how deep the dark influence ran. 

Fox shot, and Cody crashed down.

Chaos exploded. Ponds lunged for Fox, Quinlin on his heels. Fox had moved even as he shot. Quinlin’s pounce brought him down on open air. Ponds, savvy in his brother’s fighting ways, intercepted with a clash violent enough to have Wolffe wince. Another shot streaked over the Jedi’s head, no doubt intended for the heart.

“Ponds, get clear!” Wolffe shouted, edging closer. His blaster stayed trained on the tangled pair. He’d checked, double-checked, and triple checked that it was set on stun. He spared a momentary glance toward Cody and Obi-Wan, but a yell from Ponds jerked his attention back.

Quinlin, using himself as bait, had drawn Fox into a hasty move. Ponds now held him, pinned momentarily in a standing position. Fox twisted viciously. Wolffe stepped forward, shooting as he moved. The stun caught Fox as he wrenched free. Glancing off him, it also caught the edge of Ponds. Both staggered.

Wolffe shot again. Desperation lent to his aim, and this time the blue ring hit Fox dead center. He stood, frozen and dazed for a long moment. Wolffe’s finger began tightening on the trigger again, but Fox fell.

Fox went limp, and Wolffe could only stare in horror at the wreckage left in the Chancellor’s wake.

Chapter Text

Moments passed in silence, stretching to a thousand years. One of Fox’s outflung fingers lay inches from a blood spot on the carpet. Wolffe had never noticed the fresh--and faded--marks on the blood-red carpet. The huge overhead lights flickered, then died. Dusky darkness consumed the room.  Coruscant’s brightness reflected through the huge windows, dazzling the interior. Automatically, Wolffe flipped on the night-vision in his helmet. Night had fallen while they were inside. Nobody had noticed. The moment passed, a split second among thousands ticking by at the same rate.

Wolffe had shot, Fox went down, the lights flashed out, and then he was moving forward, his visor offering a grayscape of the darkened world.

His hand checked his blaster, and he was startled to find it back in his holster. He didn’t remember returning it there. He hesitated, then crouched by Fox’s side, tugging a glove off. His little brother didn’t even twitch as he laid two fingers against his neck. Relief warmed his veins as he felt the thready, but present pulsing of Fox’s heart. He shifted to glance toward Cody.

Ponds’ visor stared back, somehow concerned through the plastoid. The bright light on the side of his helmet was dimmed through Wolffe’s visor.

He tilted his head in a “come here” gesture. Wolffe rose. Hating to leave Fox, he nevertheless crossed to Cody’s side. The latter had his helmet off. He grimaced as Wolffe’s light swung across his eyes. Ponds had his hands pressed against Cody’s side, but he didn’t indicate Wolffe to look at the wound. Cody’s eyes were open, flickering in pain. He kept trying to squirm away from Ponds and sit up, muttering something about Fox, but his ori’vod’s grip was unrelenting.

“Check him.” Ponds jerked his chin toward Obi-Wan. Vos crouched over his fellow Jedi. Wolffe scooted toward the Jedi. His headlamp illuminated the scene. Vos, hands slick with blood. Kenobi, motionless and pale. 

“He stepped in front or pulled some Force trick,” Quin explained, his words punctuated with a snarled curse. “I think he got hit, while the bolt just glanced off Commander Cody.” He’d gotten ahold of a small bit of cloth and had it futility pressed against the bleeding gash on the side of Kenobi’s head.

Wolffe bit back a worried sound. All clones were trained in basic first aid, but this was more than a regular trooper was taught. Even CC’s, with their advanced training, would call a medic here. 

Before Wolffe could do just that, his helmet flashed an alert. The sensitive microphones on the outside had picked up a distant sound. He hastily scanned the room. 

The main door suddenly slid open. Lights blinded the small group, shining from the darkness. Shadowy figures poured into the room. Each possessed a head lamp, burning the darkness into oblivion.

“Hands in the air!” somebody shouted. Wolffe hesitated. His hand was already on his blaster. 

“NOW!” 

He obeyed. His visor, while struggling, had managed to adjust for the glare of a dozen bright lights blazing at him. He made out red and white, all terrifyingly the same, blending together as the shadows and light danced about the room. He stole a glance at Ponds, noting he had his hands up behind his head as well.

Two figures entered the ring of light. They indicated Ponds and Wolffe move away from the others. Facing the muzzles of their blasters, the commanders complied. These were, after all, brothers. Cody stumbled to his feet with effort, and a Guard effortlessly slid in to support him the several short steps to Fox’s side. The Jedi were left in place. A Corrie appeared crouched over Fox. The red sign on their pauldron dimly flashed in the lights. A medic.

The Coruscant Guard was terrifyingly effective. Ponds often forgot that they were elite shock troopers. In under a minute, the small group found themselves split in three sections: Fox and Cody, Ponds and Wollfe, and Obi-Wan and Quin. Looking around, Ponds felt a sense of shock as he realized how exactly they'd been grouped.

Known vode, unknown vode, and Jedi.

A glance over his shoulder showed him that a Corrie with a different paint scheme was focused on Kenobi, Vos by his side. Ponds edged forward, just in time to see two Corries descending on Fox as the medic sat back. Eerily in sync, they rolled him over and cuffed his hands behind him. One looped the cuffs through Fox’s belt , preventing him from maneuvering his hands in front of him. Fox never stirred. 

Ponds started forward. That was his vod’ika they’d just slammed over and cuffed. Fox didn’t deserve--the Corrie standing by swung to face him, muzzle of the blaster tilting in his direction.

“Stand down,” he ordered. A barely noticeable quaver in his voice caused Ponds to hesitate. Shinies sounded like that. This couldn’t be a shiny, though. Shinies wouldn’t be on such a mission. Ponds bit his lip, reasoning. The Guard got a lot of shinies, due to their non-combatant status. Perhaps all they’d had were shinies. Elite troopers or not, those who hadn’t been in battle would be nervous.

He anxiously scanned Fox again. The medic hovering over him had vanished. Ponds’ eyes swept the room, spying the familiar red patch kneeling by Kenobi. He started for the medic, once again getting the curt request to stay put by the Corrie. This time, he ignored him.

“What’s your name and number?” somebody appeared directly in front of him. Ponds did a double-take. This one had different paint. More red. He recognized him as the one who’d been helping Kenobi, and suddenly wondered how much of the paint was actually paint, and what was blood.

“What’s it to you?” he growled, making to go around the Guard. “Commander Ponds, of the 187th Battalion.” His forward motion was halted by the Guard putting out a hand.

“Stand down!” the Guard ordered. Ponds opened his mouth to pull rank when the trooper continued, “I’m CC-1062, Commander Thorn. I’m asking you to let my men do their job without interference.”

Ponds subsided, taking a step back beside Wolffe. His temper still boiled, however. “Is handcuffing vode their job? Did you learn how to restrain a clone by arresting your front-line brothers who were just trying to forget the war while on Coruscant?” he snapped out.

Commander Thorn stared at him for a long moment, body language unreadable. “No, Commander.” The medic appeared, shoving Commander Thorn back a step, “We learned how to restrain a vod after the first snapped and killed his batchmate.”

Ponds froze. Horror swept through his body. He caught the medic’s arm as he began turning away, dropping it as if burned when the Corrie flinched. The medic swung back, waiting expectantly. He showed no outward sign of wanting to be elsewhere, yet Ponds was sure he wanted very badly to be with his own Marshal Commander. He hesitated, “Why? How many?”

The medic understood. “A few, now and then. They would just come back from missions, and not be themselves.” He shifted a little on his feet, barely noticeable. To any GAR member, the shift would have merely been relieving some stress, easing the burden of a long day standing. To a Corrie, the movement was an obvious flag of warning that patience and sanity were near their end. The Guard didn’t need to shift and fidget; they were perfect soldiers, able to stand for hours without a flicker of movement.

Cody, groggily blinking at the scene from a short distance away, processed the idea in a much simpler manner. “Keikr,” he called effortfully. Instantly, the medic gravitated towards him. He paused for a brief salute to Ponds, then crossed to Cody’s side. Dropping to one knee, he swept the GAR Marshal Commander with a practiced eye.

“What happened, sir?” 

After his time with the Guard, Cody managed to pick out the tremble in the medic’s usually rock-steady tone.

“The Chancellor influenced Fox,” he replied, wincing as Keikr prodded at the blaster wound. Behind the medic, he could see Ponds arguing with Thorn again. “Did you see Fox? Kenobi?”

“Yes.” Keikr was digging through his medic bag in an effort to find a large bandage. “Nimrod is with the General. Judging from your condition and Fox’s, I’m guessing you’re both drawing strength off each other.” Finally producing what he needed, he made short work of dismantling Cody’s armor around the wound and wrapping it. The Guard who’d been standing by Cody looked inquisitively at them as Keikr finished.

“Sir?”

Keikr nodded, mind already moved on. “Get him out of here.”

The Corrie reached down, and Keikr paused long enough to help get the Commander on his feet. Once his patient was mostly vertical, the medic dashed away.

“Come on, sir.” The Corrie sounded a little off, his accent not blending as smoothly as the rest of the Guard. He slid a sturdy arm around Cody, who winced as his wound was stretched. The pounding ache in his head had faded, proving Keikr’s assumption correct. Whatever had blocked the bond had settled enough for them to faintly reach each other, as prisoners through the bars. 

He glanced back as the Corrie guided him from the room. Ponds and Wolffe were still being held out of the way. Somebody had brought a stretcher, and amidst the flashes of headlights, Keikr’s medic patch could be glimpsed as he oversaw the process of loading Fox. Cody strained for a last look toward where Kenobi lay, but all that could be seen was a swarm of red and white, eerily blending together in the darkened atmosphere.

“Come on, sir. Keikr will want you in the medbay by the time he gets down there.”

This time, with a few more syllables to help out, Cody recognized the voice. “Trapper?”

“Yes sir,” the voice sounded inordinately pleased. “Good to see you, sir.”

Cody couldn’t help the weak chuckle of relief. Fox was still alive, the Chancellor was dead, and everything was now in the open. He relaxed a little more, trusting the man at his side. “Good to see you too, Trapper.”

~

As Quin stood in the doorway, he felt like an intruder. Sure, he’d been in a clone medbay before, but this one was… different. 

Two medics rushed about. One, obviously the CMO, continually swung by to check on two swaddled figures in the far corner. He’d glanced up suspiciously when the door slid open to reveal Quin. Only when Commander Ponds stepped up by his side did the medic relent, scowling as he gestured for them to come in and shut the door.

They obeyed, then stood there gaping. The medbay was small, much smaller than Ponds was used to. Bed--more likes cots, actually--lined one wall. The few men who lay scattered throughout the room looked quite critical. One still lay on blood-stained bed sheets, glazed eyes staring ahead at nothing and swaddled in what looked oddly like ripped up sheets. A vod quietly worked near him, obviously in the process of cleaning up the area. He cast a wary side-eye at the newcomers before focusing on his job.

A cupboard left open on the far side of the medbay showcased a pitiful supply of medicine and bandages, looking more like a post-battle supply than the med-cabinet of a quiet home-world base.

The younger of the medics came trotting over. “Any injuries?” he asked in a practiced tone. He had an almost skittish air about him, despite the clear focus in his words.

“He got stabbed.” Ponds absently waved toward Vos, his gaze stuck on the room. 

The young medic did a double-take. Abruptly, he nodded and gestured toward the nearest bed. “Have a seat. I’ll be right back.”

Vos nodded, face inscrutable. He tugged at his gloves a little, then stepped toward the bed. Ponds shadowed him, having been told how this Jedi hated medbays. It had only been through Mace’s stern order that he was here at all. 

Ponds continued examining the area, still trying to take in everything. This was where Fox, Cody and General Kenobi had been taken when the Corries swept them from the room. The General he recognized, lying isolated in a corner. His contemplations were cut short as a medic appeared at his side and gave Vos a once-over.

“Shirt off.” He crouched in front of the Jedi as he reluctantly stripped out of his shirt. This was the CMO, Ponds noted, not the young medic from before. His gloved hands were gentle as he probed around the wound. Vos pasted on an “it-doesn’t-hurt” expression and bore the examination without looking at the medic.

“Knife?” 

Ponds glanced down at the single-word query in time to see Vos nod. The medic paused, sifting through a small variety of items in his pockets before coming up with a small, silver capsule. Vos suspiciously accepted it, eyeing the still-wrapped medication with great concern.

“Painkiller.” The medic grunted, already moving away. Ponds edged forward. He’d heard Cody call the medic’s name. What had it been? Kicker? Hiker?

“Where’s Fox? And Cody?” he asked. The medic paused, actually looking at him for the first time.

“Sorry, no visitors.” He edged away again.

“They’re my vod’ika. I want to see them,” Ponds firmly said. He stepped after the medic.

The medic hesitated.

“Keikr! Sir, I need-” The younger medic across the room suddenly yelped as a patient flailed, sending a tray clattering to the floor. 

His mind snapped to a decision. “Back corner. Don’t bother them; they’re sleeping.” He rushed off to help the younger clone. Ponds cast a glance at Vos, ensuring he would stay put, then crossed the room to the far back. Machines quietly beeped out a steady rhythm of life. 

Ponds stood between the two beds, his eyes darting from Fox, to Cody, and back to Fox. Both were wrapped in blankets that belied the medbay’s warmth. All that was exposed were their faces. He stepped forward, gently brushing his fingers across Cody’s cheek.

“Kote…” he murmured. His youngest brother stirred at the touch. Ponds quietly withdrew, remembering Keikr’s warning. He hesitated before he turned, almost afraid to look over Fox. He knew Cody had come to Coruscant to act as Marshal Commander, but he knew little beyond that. Cody had been cryptic and quiet since his first days in the Guard. Ponds wondered how much he didn’t know.

“Fox’ika.” He resisted the urge to cup his vod’ika’s cheeks, and pull him tight in a hug. He stole a glance toward the CMO, and felt a thrill of shock as he found the medic standing at the foot of Cody’s bed. Obviously just swinging by the check, he nevertheless hesitated when Ponds looked toward him inquisitively.

“What’s wrong with him?” he asked, straight-up.

Keikr’s expression remained neutral. “He’s injured, sir. He was in a bad fight.”

Ponds wrinkled his nose. “I know that. But beyond that. What was wrong with him before he stepped into that demagolka’s lair?”

Keikr stopped. He blinked. His eyes wandered down to Fox, then slid over to the machines. He stepped around Cody’s bed. “I heard the Chancellor is dead?” His voice carried too little emotion to be called uninterested. 

Ponds caught on instantly. Fox’s sheer hatred in the few seconds he’d been in control. His determination to shoot the Chancellor of the Republic without hesitation. This was not isolated abuse, reserved only for the Marshal Commander. The entire Guard had been suffering. The few words Cody had snapped off before their confrontation and attempted rescue had been enough to fire up his batchmates’ blood, but not give them the whole story.

Ponds could only guess at the true nature of the Coruscant Guard, but he could feel the weight of their medic’s question. “Yes, Keikr. Palpatine is dead. Fox shot him.” 

Ponds didn’t think he imagined the medic’s shoulders dropping in relief. He scooted to the foot of Fox’s bed, sitting down and fiddling with the edge of the blanket.

“...I need to go stitch up the Jed.” He didn’t move.

Ponds waited a few minutes until couldn’t restrain his concern and curiosity any longer. “Why are they both wrapped up?”

“They’re linked.” Keikr sounded tired. He looked up toward his Commander, the concern in his eyes unmistakable. “Fox has gotten cold easily since his last mission. Because they’re linked, Cody’s body keeps trying to drop its temperature to match Fox. We’re trying to keep them warm.”

“Will they be ok?” Ponds retried the question from earlier. “Will he be ok?” Cody had only endured this hell for a few short weeks. Fox had lived it for two years.

“I think…” The medic paused, gaze scanning the two. A tiny smile appeared on his face for the first time. “...I think now he will be.”

Chapter Text

Fox flinched as Bly threw himself down across the bed. Bly’s hastily mumbled apology was lost as the rest of the batch came tumbling through the door and sprawled through the room. Wolffe shucked off his trim jacket and boots before pouncing on the bed. Cody, in a much more orderly manner, hung his jacket over the bedpost. Ponds kicked his way through the boots, clothing, and armor discarded all over the room. Dropping his chest and backplate on the pile, he carefully crawled in with the batch cuddle. 

“Hey, watch your feet!” Wolffe snarled as Ponds draped himself over everyone. 

“Watch your own feet,” Ponds retorted, “My feet don’t stink!”

Bly snorted from where he’d buried his face in Fox’s side, “Do to,” he mumbled. Cody, tucked on Fox’s other side with Wolffe lying on top of him, hummed agreement. Silence followed as the batch settled, being careful to avoid aggravating Fox or Cody’s wounds. 

As the minutes passed, the batch gradually relaxed. 

“I thought you were overseeing the move?” Bly finally muttered.

“I was..” Cody’s sleepy tone was barely distinguishable. He still tired quickly, despite being cleared to leave the medbay. “Rex forced me to leave. Assured me everything would be fine. Neyo and Bacara are rounding up everyone in the field. Shaak Ti and Stone are getting everyone from Kamino. I’m not sure who’s overseeing on-world.”

“Thorn, Appo, Grey, and Knox.” Fox chimed in. “I think Gregor’s in that mix somewhere too.”

“Good, good.” Ponds flashed a winning smile. “So we can all stay snuggly here with you.”

“I can’t wait for Keikr to clear Fox so we can take him there!” Cody enthused, sitting up. The others shifted a little to look at their vod’ikase. Fox smiled gently.

“I’ve heard plenty from you all. Faie might be a picky, cranky old vod but I trust he knows what’s best for the Vode .”

Vode.

They all stayed in silence a moment, relishing the fact that they knew the word was capitalized. They were not just “vode” but the Vode. They were a people, recognized by the Republic. Fox with his experience dealing with senators and fancy paperwork, had worked closely with the Jedi and nice senators to get them the world Faie had found. 

It hadn’t taken much percussion to get the Republic to let go of the world. The official report contained phrases like “large beasts”, “took four blasters of concentrated fire to kill, and one of the smaller ones at that”, and “huge, overgrown sections completely impenetrable without explosives” and “lost a speederbike to a bog,” and “nearly lost Jorge to the first plant we saw” along with words such as “dangerous”, “large”, “biting”, “hunting”, “poisonous”, “acidic”, and “uninhabited”. Fox’s personal favorite section ran something like, “Plenty of hunting, both for the vode to hunt and to hunt the vode .” The few Jedi who checked out the place returned acting spooked, informing the Senate that the world was dangerous and wild, entirely unsuitable for life besides the hardy clones. Fox accepted their peace offering, recognizing their actions for what it was.

Privately, Faie had messaged Fox, telling him that their brothers would thrive there, and relish the challenge of taming the wild planet. Fox believed him. The clones were bred for war, and a calm, sedentary life would drive them wild in a few weeks. 

Already they were being ferried to the new world as fast as they could be gathered and sorted. All Command clones were working their heads off, the Jedi pulling their share beside them. Everyone was working. Everyone except Fox, who was still confined to bed and Keikr's constant, reproachful watch.

Fox felt a warmth wash over him, looking up to meet eyes with Cody. His vod’ika smiled encouragingly, and Fox smiled back. 

Things were looking up, and Fox couldn’t help but look up with them.