Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Coruscant was the best post in the GAR, said no guard member ever. Fox has been staring at datapads for hours now, reading articles, requests and other documents he should not be reading as Marshal Commander CC-1010. He signs a release form with the Supreme Chancellor’s signature. Fox and the other Guard commanders have perfected multiple senators’ signatures. Did they want to? No, but they didn’t have a choice in the matter. Someone had to make sure the Chancellor wasn’t falling behind on datawork and god forbid the flimsiplast get disorganized again. It had taken 2 standard years, at the beginning of the war to properly organize all the flimsiplast that had been thrown into the senate archives. The poor senate aids who where in charge of fixing the mess still send them small crates of high quality caf throughout the year, it’s the only thing keeping Fox from losing it and destroying the building. Fox often wondered what god he pissed off to get him stuck on Coruscant. He was a clone, top of his class, made for war not a glorified secretary or babysitter.
The commander messages the senate dome chat: Update. His comlink pings with multiple messages from the troopers in charge of their squads. Its a rare quiet day in the senate, he won’t say anything to jinx it. Another datapad is in his hands.

After a while Fox puts down the datapad to rub his eyes. When did they get so dry? His attention is pulled to the corner of his desk, he can hear chatter from his bucket. Fox’s comlink hasn’t pinged so it’s nothing important but he could use a break. Switching off the datapad and throwing his feet onto the desk, Fox leans back in his chair and puts his helmet on.

“I stepped in shit.” Thire screeched.
“I told you to watch your step.” Stone replied in an exasperated tone.
“I thought you meant faulty flooring, not shit.” Thire huffed.
“I feel like shit is more common than unstable flooring.” Thorn chimed in.
“Shut up Thorn!” Thire hissed.
“Where are you?” Fox asks to interrupt the bickering.
“We’re deep under the barracks.” Stone answers. “Some shinies found a vent that leads to the level directly under our barracks. We were checking to see if it was a possible weak point in our defense.”
“Turns out it’s actually a tucked away shortcut to the undercity. The building the vent is attached to is an old recycling center. Only a few staff members.” Thire butts in.
“How did we miss this vent?” Fox hums more to himself than the other commanders. The guard was very thorough when scouting the barracks and surrounding area. Fox himself checked every nook and cranny, no stone was left unturned. Haha stone.
“It’s the southwest vent that was blocked with debris.” Stone answers for him. “I would suspect it might be related to the loud crashing vode heard earlier this week.”
“Primeday or Taungsday?” There were loud questionable sounds every other hour on Coruscant.
“Taungsday, the crashing sound on Primeday was a speeder accident.” Stone snorts at the end. Ah, nat-borns and their reckless driving… Then again Thorn wasn’t known for his amazing piloting…
“How many ships have you crashed, Thorn?” Fox asks, mind somewhere else now.
“Why is that relevant?” Thorn snips.
“46!” Thire happily answers. “He added 2 on his last mission escorting senator Organa.”
“Kriff off Thire.” Thorn was ready to hunt the younger commander down and throw hands. Would he leave his post overlooking the prison? Maybe.
“I’ll schedule a group to check all the blocked passages to see if there’s anything else that’s been exposed.” Fox yawns, he’s been relaxed for too long. It’s time to get back to work. “Don’t forget you have assignments starting soon, better not be late.” and with that Fox kicked his feet down while he pulled his bucket off. Picking another datapad up, he started reading reports from the frontlines and making notes to give to the Chancellor. Would they help? Probably not, Fox questions if the Chancellor ever reads his sparknotes.

Fox gets through 18 reports before he gets a notification. It’s time for him to leave the senate dome and rotate with Thorn. The Marshal commander downs the last of his stale cold caf before locking up the office and leaving the senate. He could go the normal way, or he could get some cardio in by dropping down a few levels. He spots Thorn crawling out a manhole and before the cover was dropped, Fox jumped down. He could hear Thorn snickering and couldn’t fight off the grin forming.

Chapter Text

Thire rolls his eyes as he hears his ori’vod leave the conversion. Instead of working, Fox should take a nap. As if hearing his thoughts, Stone silently agreed. The two commanders were on a “mandatory” break set up by Fox and backed up by the medics. Every Coruscant Guard member no matter their rank had at least 1 break everyday outside of their meal times and sleep time. Fox always forgot to take his break, the guard tried everything under the horizon to help him remember but the marshal commander was too much of a workaholic.

“I swear that’s the reason he’s going gray.” Thire mutters under his breath as they cross a rusted pipe. Stone hums in agreement. The 3 commanders were worried for their marshal but they were stretched so thin between everything going on on Coruscant. They take turns dragging Fox to bed and that’s about all they can do. Thire wanted to go take a nap with Fox right now but sadly that was going to have to wait.

The 2 commanders were pretty far down from where they started. The vent only led them to the beginning of the lower levels but it opened up a less explored area. The rundown recycling center was surrounded by other similar buildings. Most people avoided areas like this because they were higher in toxic fumes. The Guard has long since become immune to the toxic fumes like most undercity pedestrians have and upgraded their armor to cycle through the harsher poisonous airs. Were they supposed to? KRIFF NO! It was against regulations to modify armor without the proper permissions. Did they do it anyways? Yes, because it was necessary to continue their exploration. The little taste of freedom every Guard trooper refused to let go.

Triple 0 was a shit hole place to work. The guard was expected to protect people who wanted them dead. They were slaves to the senate and prey to the general population. It was rare to meet a nat-born who didn’t sneer in their direction. Meat droids they were labeled by everyone, even their brothers on the front called them that. Thire clenched his teeth in frustration as he jumped from one roof to another while Stone took a slightly different route. The older commander climbed up a falling apart radio tower. Thire watched as he swan dived off the top and did a flip mid air, he gracefully rolled when he hit the ground and used the momentum to get back up on his feet. Thire clapped and Stone took a bow. This was the guard’s only escape. The lower levels of Coruscant have become their jungle gym.

It happened during an intense chase. This specific criminal was practically running the guard in circles. She was apprehended by a lucky stun shot from Fox however she clearly showed a flaw within the guard. There was no doubt that the clones were very athletic and their urban combat training was nothing to scoff at but compared to the criminals who lived and breathed urban warfare, who knew the streets of Coruscant like the back of their hand, the guard struggled to keep up. Fox stood above the unconscious criminal, panting hard, vision shaking, and blood roaring in his ears. For the first time since Geonosis, he felt alive. Looking around, the marshal commander could tell his troopers were feeling the same. Clones were made for war but on Coruscant their wings were clipped and their fangs were muzzled. They were the punching bag of the senate, and they could do nothing to protect themselves. But here, in the undercity? They could be ghosts in the shadows.

From that day on, the Coruscant Guard mapped out the planet level by level. They marched like Droids around the Federal District, scouting the upper levels passively on their patrol routes. They noted overlooked maintenance tunnels, hidden sewers and passages. The guard roamed lower Coruscant more freely. Their patrols only scraped the very top levels of the undercity. They could only go lower if they were tasked with a mission, so they ventured deeper secretly. Hiding in the dark allies and using forgotten buildings like feral tookas. When the next agile criminal tried to shake the guard off by diving into the undercity, he didn’t get far. The criminal walked right into the guard’s lair.

Thire sighed when his comlink beeped at him. He and Stone shared a sad look. Stone bumped Thire’s shoulder with his own and the two took off sprinting. Thire grinned like a mad man as he joined his ori’vod in the impromptu race to topside. Sure the exploring is over for today but they’ll be back. Hopefully with more vode.

Chapter Text

Thorn was sitting in a swivel chair watching multiple monitors. The cup of caf next to him had been finished for a long time but he didn’t feel like getting up. His leg throbbed painfully, something twisted the wrong way when he crashed a ship into some droids. It was a tactical crash that saved many lives but no one ever believes him. He can’t believe Thire is keeping count of his crashes. Except he totally can, because Thire is a petty bitch like that. Thorn huffs and grumps like a displeased grandpa. The trooper next to him gives him the side eye and snickers to himself.

“Alright there ori’vod?” Glitz asks innocently, like he wasn’t laughing at his commander a second earlier. His twin Glam was taking a nap on the stolen couch behind them. To this day no one knows who put it there.
“Just peachy.” Thorn snips.
“Well, look on the bright side, soon you’ll be rotating with Fox and you can take a run.” Glitz grimaces when he remembers the commander’s injury. “Or a really brisk walk?” He offers an apologetic smile.
Thorn snorts affectionately and lightly punches the younger trooper in the arm. “Yeah, yeah. A nice walk to brighten my day.” Thorn hears the caf machine beep. Before he can get up, the sleeping trooper springs up and stumbles to the machine. Glam grabs the fresh pot, looks at his empty mug then to his commander and brother. He jogs over to fill their mugs first then he takes the lid off the pot and chugs the remaining caf. Thorn and Glitz burst out laughing at the sight.

“Fox is gonna want a fresh pot.” Glam explains with a shrug, putting the pot back to start a new brew. Thorn looks at the time and decides to head out a little early since he’s slower with his injured leg. The commander downs his caf like his trooper and gets up. The twins wave him goodbye as he leaves.

There’s multiple ways to get to the senate from the prison. Sadly his favorite paths require too much climbing, running and jumping. He could take the direct path but that means possibly being stopped by angry nat-borns so he takes the in between option. An easy path through the back streets and a small drop into the sewer to climb out next to the senate dome. Thorn sneaks his way through back streets and lurks through the allies. Once he arrives to the proper manhole, he climbs down the ladder. His leg protests a little but its too late now. His helmet lights the path better than the dim lights. Thorn takes little moments to admire the graffiti covering the walls, he can tell which ones were made by the guard.

Thorn carefully cracks open the lid and scopes out the area. This manhole was rarely walked past and it’s out of sight but one can never be too careful when it comes to keeping something secret. He can already hear the Supreme Chancellor demanding the guard be decommissioned for running around Coruscant like sewer rats. It’s always about looks in the senate. Thorn sees the coast is clear and moves the cover to the side so he can pull himself out. As he’s about to reseal the manhole, The glorious marshal commander of the Coruscant Guard slides past him and drops down the hole like a cadet running from their alpha vod. Thorn can’t help but laugh when he sees the flash of corrie red slip past him. He smiles knowing his partner in crime is getting a well deserved break from sitting around staring at datapads. Then the winged commander sighs knowing he’s in for a long day of flimsi work and pissy senators. Would it be wrong to set the senate on fire? Giving everyone the day off. Probably.

Thorn nods at the troopers he passes and politely greets many of the senators, most of which greet him back, some even stopping to share short pleasantries. How did Thorn get on the good side of most of the senate? Nobody knows. At least that’s what his vode thinks. Thorn often accompanies these senators on escort missions and has gotten most of them out of sticky situations. However his true success comes from his carefully crafted personalities to best suit the senator he’s serving. It’s honestly a lot of gaslighting and manipulation but that’s his secret. Fox has his thoroughly fact checked spreadsheets while Thorn has his elegantly crafted masks of lies.

The winged commander finally steps into the guard’s office and flops onto the desk chair. His leg is throbbing more painfully now. Fox has left the datapads neatly stacked on the desk, it’s easy to pick up where the other has left off. Sadly a code orange is pinged on his comlink and Thorn is instantly running through the corridors to hopefully rescue the trooper in danger. The medics were going to have a field day when he returned to the barracks.