Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Your stomach clenched instinctively as your shuttle navigated a small patch of turbulence. Just seconds before, the clone soldier in the cockpit had announced that you would be breaking atmosphere and you had expected a bit more time to brace yourself. It was a very mild shift, but any jostling made you nervous for the large cages that lined the floor of the shuttle. But the cages remained unmoved, their occupants completely unbothered. The armored troopers sitting in crash seats across from you seemed unphased, even bored, judging by their relaxed posture. Though it was hard to be sure with their faces concealed by helmets. Minutes later, you touched down and the two soldiers immediately rose. With purposeful but unhurried movements, one opened the docking ramp as the other began untethering cages. By the time you had stretched and risen to your feet, one of the soldiers had already produced a hovercart and was lifting the first of your cages onto it. You scrambled to collect your bags and exited the craft down the ramp. Probably the best help you could offer would be to get out of their way.

The hangar was crowded with ships and equipment, but only a few people moved about. It was largely quiet and yet the cacophony of distant noises lent a sense of chaos even to this space. The air of coruscant felt stagnant and oppressive. You took a deep breath, reminding yourself that any major industrialized area would have felt odd to you. After all, you had spent years in distant parts of the galaxy, relatively isolated. It was all part of being an animal scientist. But as the Clone Wars had intensified now for almost a year, most academic funding for your studies had dried up. With funds needed to finance military and relief efforts, grants for field work had all but paused. You had accepted this short-term military contract and while the work was rather banal for someone with your level of expertise, the pay was decent for an 8-week commitment. Plus, it included room and board.

“Sargent Cable at your service, sir!” your attention was jolted back to the present. Your pilot was now standing tall beside the shuttle to salute an approaching figure. The lone soldier looked different from the three troopers that had brought you here. His armor was mostly painted red and panels of leather hung against his thighs. His posture exuded authority and you suddenly looked around self-consciously, wondering if you ought to salute as well.

“At ease, Sargeant” the officer muttered quickly. He drew nearer and the two men shared a sort of handshake, raised hands clasping briefly and then releasing. “Anything unexpected on your journey?”

“Nothing, sir,” the clone answered curtly as the officer walked over to one of the unloaded cages.

“Excellent. I look forward to a brief report,” the man in red turned, bending lower to examine the nearest cage as Sargent Cable joined his men to unload those that remained on the shuttle. “Are they alright?”

“They were sedated,” you piped up, “I… sedated them. To reduce their anxiety during the flight.” The soldier in red stood up straight again, turning towards you.

“You must be our trainer. I look forward to seeing this project succeed.”

“uh…of course,” you answered a bit blandly, unsettled by his directness. He turned to look at the sleeping hounds again.

“Do they require any immediate care?”

“No… they will just need a few hours to sleep it off before they can begin acclimating to their new environment.” He nodded slowly then addressed the other clones.

“Once the cargo has been taken to level 24, bay 3, you and your men may begin your scheduled leave.” You turned towards the caged massif hounds, ready to follow them to their new home, when the clone in red cleared his throat.

“I would recommend that you take some time to get settled. Local time is 0200 and the soldiers assigned to assist you in setting up the facilities are asleep.”

“Um… okay,” you responded simply. You had been oblivious to the late hour but were exhausted and desperately needed to freshen up. The flight from Kalinda had taken only 6 hours but your journey to reach that rendezvous point from Aduba had taken nearly a day and a half.

“Right then, I will show you to your…,” he paused, his head tilting slightly.

“Is there a problem?” you asked.

“No… well… Your title in the file was simply ‘doctor’. I’m afraid I wasn’t expecting a woman.” In spite of your tiredness, or perhaps because of it, your temper flared.

“Are you questioning my qualifications because I’m a woman? As if I am somehow less competent or—”

“No, no, no” the man waved his hands. “Nothing like that. It’s just that… we arranged quarters for you in the officer’s dormitories.”

“And…why would that be an issue?” You scowled. The man sighed loudly enough that you could hear it through his helmet.

“Space is tight and you will be surrounded by soldiers’ quarters. If you’re uncomfortable with that, we could probably arrange a nearby hostel instead or—” now it was your turn to wave your hands as you cut him off.

“I’m sure it will be fine. I’m used to living out in the wilderness. I don’t need much and I doubt your men make worse neighbors than slug rats and roaming nexu.

He stood frozen for a moment before nodding.

“Alright. This way,” with that, he turned and began walking towards one of the doorways leading out of the hangar. You hoisted your packs and hurried to follow him. The long hallways were largely deserted and after a few turns you reached a lift. The clone punched a numbered button and cleared his throat as the lift door closed. “The mess is on level 12. The lower levels are bunkrooms and rec rooms. You are on level ten. Any questions?”

“What are… all the other levels for?” you stared wide-eyed at the enormous array of buttons on the elevator.

“Simulation rooms. Offices. Equipment. You’ll be shown to your training room on level 24 in the morning.”

“Is there …some kind of map I could study?” you probably sounded stupid, but in reality you were afraid. What would happen if you got lost in this maze of a building?

“The exact layout of our headquarters is classified,” his visor tilted towards you, perhaps in suspicion. He must have noticed your wide eyes and genuine concern, because a moment later he continued, “I’ll see about providing a simplified diagram.” The lift had halted and the doors slid silently open. You walked down a few more hallways, lined with identical doors, trying to memorize the route as you walked. Eventually, the clone stopped in front of one of the doors. You paused and he turned to face you, holding out a hand. You stared in confusion for a moment, then reached out, expecting a handshake. Instead, he snatched you by the wrist and shoved your hand against the door interface.

“This room is now programed to your biometrics and should be accessible only by you and those with the highest level security clearance,” he explained tersely.  You’ve been provided a datapad and comm. My lieutenant will be here to collect you at 0600. He will be the primary liaison for this project. Any questions?” his tone was not rude, but direct and emotionless. You stepped inside, relieved to set down your bag.

“0600? That’s… just a couple of hours away.”

“Then I won’t take up any more of your time,” he replied curtly, “If you have any concerns between now and then, my frequency is on the comm.” He had already begun turning to leave.

“I’m sorry, what was your name?” you asked as he began to leave. He turned his visor back towards you.

“Fox. Commander Fox. Now, get some sleep.” He jammed a button on the door panel and it quickly slid closed.

Chapter Text

A loud knocking at your door jolted you from your sleep. It stopped for a moment while you collected your senses and then resumed.

“Just a minute!” you called out, clumsily staggering from your cot in the darkness. You stumbled towards the door and stubbed your toe on something hard. The desk, maybe? Your quick assessment the night before was that this room was perfectly sufficient- no more, no less- with a desk, a bed and a storage trunk all tucked into such a small space that it must have taken higher-level mathematics to determine how they could all fit. You were relieved to have a private fresher attached. It was equally cramped, but far better than whatever communal setup most of the soldiers here probably used. You groped around for your fresh coveralls and managed to slip them on quickly, straightening to open the door.

The bright hallway light flooded your vision for a moment. When your pupils finally adjusted, you took in the man before you: A soldier stood outside your door in a relaxed stance. His helmet, tucked casually under one arm, had unfamiliar features, but bore red-painted markings that extended throughout his armor.

“Lieutenant Hound,” he introduced himself enthusiastically, extending a hand, “Advanced Recon Forces, Coruscant Guard.” You shook his hand and slowly returned the warm smile that lit his face. You hadn’t seen any other clone troopers without a helmet and were surprised by his handsome face.

“Pleasure to meet you. I’m sorry I wasn’t ready. I…uh… arrived quite late.”

“Of course,” he nodded. “Well, we’d better get started. I’ve been instructed to bring you up to speed around here!” he stepped back and you made to follow him. Hound gave a short laugh. “You’ll want to put on your shoes.” Blushing, you scrambled to grab your boots, lacing them hurriedly. Hound seemed unbothered, rocking slightly on his heels and waving down the hall. As you stepped from your room and closed the door behind you, you were surprised to see quite a few men along the corridor. A dozen pairs of eerily identical eyes turned your way. Some wore armor and gelmets while others wore snug black suits. One wore a blue shirt and trousers that you didn’t recognize. Hound warmly greeted others as he passed, sometimes pausing for cheerful exchanges. You followed, sheepishly grinning and nodding at the clones that you passed. Nobody appeared angry, mostly curious, and soon you felt more embarrassed than threatened. Hound led you to a lift and as the doors closed upon the two of you, you let out an audible sigh. You felt nervous and jittery. Hound laughed gently.

“You’ll have to excuse the guys. They’ll get used to you quickly,” Hound explained.

“Thank you, Lieutenant,” you said quietly, mind buzzing with half-formed questions and curiosity.

“Ehh, no need for that,” he waved a hand. “Just Hound. We’ll be working together closely, so no need for formality.”

“Thank you… Hound.” a sense of relief washed over you. This might be overwhelming, but at least you had an ally.

“No problem. We’ll grab some food, then head right up to your new training room.”

More stares followed you in the busy mess hall. Your anxiety buzzed in this unfamiliar place, surrounded by tightly packed crowds of strangers. Fortunately, Hound made an excellent buffer, introducing you to various soldiers while you nodded and tried to project confidence. The offerings weren’t particularly appealing- various foods processed so thoroughly that they no longer resembled their original ingredients. At least the caf seemed decent.

You sat beside Hound at a table near the edge of the room and glanced around self-consciously.

“You seem nervous,” Hound said in an amicable tone as he began to shovel food into his mouth. 

“I’m not used to crowds. I usually work alone,” you explained as you carefully began eating. It was hard not to grimace at your first bite of the chewy, salty food.

“Ha! That must be nice,” Hound mused as a couple of men approached. “I can’t remember a time I wasn’t surrounded by a bunch of these guys’ ugly faces.”

“Eh, you should check out a mirror,” one of the men replied, as the other guffawed. They sat down across from you. “So, you must be the new massif trainer, right?”

“That’s me,” you grinned shyly.

“This is Chit and Lonnie.” Hound mumbled, then swallowed his food before continuing. “Lonnie is one of the ARF troopers here. Poor Chit needs a few more promotions before he’s ready to handle more than Senatorial guard duty.”

“Hey!” Chit shoved Hound’s shoulder without any real force while Lonnie burst into a fresh peel of laughter. Your anxiety lessened a bit as you ate, listening to the men’s playful jabbing. Within a few minutes, Hound had cleared his plate and stood up, clasping Chit’s shoulder.

“Well, gentlemen, it’s been a pleasure. But the doctor and I have a lot to do.” You quickly ate a few more bites before standing to follow Hound, who was replacing his helmet.

“Nice to meet you,” you nodded at each of the men, who casually saluted you in turn.

“Doctor.”

“Ma’am”

You followed down a corridor and into another lift, Hound keeping up a casual commentary for much of the journey.

“Of course the mess is open all hours but the offerings are better first thing in the morning… You’ll get used to the layout, but these are the best lifts to reach your level. The ones the other side will only take you to level 18 and then you’ll need to walk through munitions storage to reach ones with access to the higher floors…

When the door slid open at level 24, you were surprised to find a long corridor full of bay doors that opened into an area industrial space with high ceilings and natural light streaking in through narrow windows. You immediately spotted 12 cages lining the wall. The massifs whined eagerly at your approach and you laughed with relief that they all seemed well. Travel and sedation always carried a small risk.

“They’ll need food and water right away. I sent instructions and supply lists but I’m not sure who they were passed along to…” You began looking all around, when Hound waved you over to a row of modular cabinets. A large monitor mounted on the wall displayed a list of succinct notes and inventory checklists that seemed to be sourced from the instructions that you had outlined. Relief washed over you.

“Excellent,” you smiled, looking through shelves. Most of the groups in your line of work didn't excel at organization; this would be a refreshing improvement. Hound opened a crate to reveal neat stacks of large, shallow dishes and together, you bagn to fill them with food and water. “They didn’t think to portion the meat?” you stared at the large tub that Hound had pulled from a squat chiller.

“I can ask the acquisition staff to do that in the future.” Hound pulled out a large knife. “Just show me how much they need and I’ll take care of it.” It was a messy process and as you ferried the dishes to each of the massifs, Hound asked questions and you happily rattled on about the massifs. You were loosening up and growing more comfortable, finally in your element. For which you were grateful. Animals could always read their handler’s anxieties and this would be your first opportunity to interact personally with them.

The massifs needed to be outfitted with harnesses and training leashes. Hound watched you handle the first few, leading them out of their cages to explore the area one at a time. Then, you talked him slowly through the process, offering tips. The hounds had received basic training already but new people and new environments could lead even the best-trained animal to act out of fear.

“We need to let them burn off some energy- I’ll take Aurek, you handle Besh. We’ll run them through a few controlled exercises.”

“Awww, are we really giving them phonetic alphabet titles instead of names?” Hound asked as he retrieved the massif, handling the leash as you had shown him.

“At first, yes.”

Hound was an absolute natural and had no trouble communicating with authority through his posture and tone. Besh followed him readily and soon the two of you were leading the animals through a slew of basic commands and releasing their leads to let them run through the space. After a while, the next two massifs got a turn, with the others watching eagerly from their cages. It took hours to get all of the animals acclimated and as you returned Herf and Isk to their kennels, your stomach growled loudly.

“We’d better grab a mid-day meal!” Hound checked his chrono. “It’s already 1500 and I’ve got another assignment at 1800.

“Oh! Yeah, I’m starving,” you walked to the lift together. “So, what will our usual schedule look like?”

“Our schedule? Well, let's see- Beginning tomorrow, I’ll be in each morning and evening to make sure the kennels are turned out and feed and water the pups. You’ll have a dozen soldiers in the morning from 0700 to 1200 and then another dozen from 1300 to 1800.” He explained as you made your way into the mess hall. It was fortunately much emptier than it had been that morning.

“Wow. Twelve handlers at a time for two five hour sessions? That’s… pretty intense!” you admitted.

“Yeah, but we’ve got a lot of work to do. I mean, none of us has handled an animal before and you’ve only got a couple of weeks to turn us into experts!” Hound said, loading his plate with food. You searched the serving trays, imagining how good a fresh jorgan fruit would taste but finally settling on some starchy-looking bars.

“What do the different colors mean? On your armor?” You asked as you sat down beside Hound, casually observing the few soldiers who were scattered around the room.

“It depends. Sometimes you’ll see different colors for different ranks. Like that captain over there with the green markings,” Hound pointed a thumb across the room. “Others belong to certain divisions. Like, if you see anyone with this red on their armor,” Hound held his hand to his chestplate, “you know they’re shock troopers. Coruscant guard. We’ve got a couple guys from 501st over there with the blue..." 

You nodded and listened, looking around at the different soldiers in the room as Hound described more color and armor distinctions. You continued to look around. It was still disquieting, but not as shocking as it had been that morning, to see the men's identical faces. For all their visual similarities, it was obvious that they were all individuals. Nothing proved that more than the differences in personality contrasted between Hound and the soldier who had welcomed you the night before.

As if conjured by your thoughts, Commander Fox suddenly appeared at the entrance to the mess hall. He strode across the middle aisle, walking straight to the drink station and filling a large flask with caf. Hound followed your gaze.

"That's our commander. Have you had a chance to meet him?" 

You nodded "He was the one who received us when we arrived last night." Hound chuckled lightly.

"You don't sound too impresses with him." You were caught off-guard for a moment, unsure. Had your tone betrayed that much?

"Umm... Well... He seemed a bit... Gruff." Hound laughed again.

"Oh, I guess that's not far from the mark. It's tough to stay on top of everything around here, so Fox doesn't mess around. He's direct and no-nonsense, but he doesn't mean any harm. He's a great leader." Fox walked back out of the mess hall with the flask.

You finished your meal and returned to the massifs. They got another round of exercises- still two at a time and leashed- but the animals seemed to be adjusting well. Then, Hound had to  excuse himself.

"I will come up here to check on them after my patrol, so don't worry about turning out the litter pens or anything. I'm supposed to take care of all that..." Alone, you continued to work with the massifs for a while, testing for areas where their training would need to be bolstered. As they relaxed and became more familiar with you and with the training room, you got glimpses of their personalities. It would be quite an adventure trying to match them up with their clone handlers.

Within a couple of hours, you decided that you'd better be done for the day. The lack of sleep from the previous evening was catching up with you. You decided to head straight for your room. Food was less appealing than sleep at the moment. The lift deposited you on level 10 and you tried to recall the vague memory of following Commander Fox the night before. You had passed a corridor and made a left. Or was it two corridors? It didn't help that your mind felt numb with exhaustion. After wandering down a few hallways, looking for any hints that you were in the right place, you heard voices. Maybe someone who could give you directions? You turned a corner and saw an open door. Perfect.

The moment you reached the doorway, you realized your mistake. The room beyond held several rows of bunk beds, where perhaps two dozen soldiers were sitting around chatting. An innocuous scene that would hardly bother you, if it weren't for the men's various states of undress. Your mouth fell open and you froze. One of the soldiers, leaning against a bedframe with nothing but a towel slung around his waist, yelped at the sight of you and crossed his arms over his torso. Other exclamations quickly followed.

"Oh!"

"Hey!"

"What the..."

"We're not due for inspection, are we?"

Your lip trembled as you tried to form the words of an apology, when one of the men got to his feet and walked over to the door. 

"Hey there, doctor! It's Chit." He gestured to himself with both hands, "We met in the mess this morning...?"

"Yes... Chit!" You stammered, trying not to stare at his bare chest but uncertain if lowering your gaze to his snug, black leggings was any more polite. Making eye contact seemed impossibly difficult all of the sudden.

"You need something?" He smiled openly, either gracious enough to ignore your discomfort or oblivious enough not to notice it.

"Ummm... just.... searching for my room....," you took a few steps back. Chit followed into the hall, still smiling sincerely.

"Ah, yeah, it can be a bit of a maze down here. What's your room number?" You hoped that he would just point you in the right direction, and send you on your way. No such luck.

"You probably just went the wrong direction from the lift. No worries," he filled the silent hallway with lighthearted, one-sided chatter as he walked you towards your room. "There's nothing on these levels that's off-limits to you..." You blushed. Thank the maker, Chit seemed impervious to your embarrassment. You finally reached your door, which ended up being 5 corridors away, and hurriedly pressed your hand to the locking mechanism while thanking Chit profusely.

You stood in your room, back against the closed door, heart racing. The awkward moment had been so brief. Maybe ten seconds. And yet the scene was seared into your mind. All those men- all that bronze skin taut over bulging muscles. You physically shook your head. The accidental intrusion on their privacy was simply triggering your adrenaline response. Yes. That explained it. It was a simple and understandable mistake. A shower would help calm your nerves.  

You tried to turn your attention to more constructive thoughts as you showered. The massifs. Your plans for the first day of training tomorrow. Once you were clean and dressed, you felt calmer, but that peace was short-lived. A loud, brief knock rattled your door. You looked down at your thin nightshirt and pulled the neckline tightly closed before pressing the button to open the door. To your surprise, Commander Fox stood in the hallway. He held out a hand.

"Your datapad," he ordered, in lieu of a greeting. 

"Um... Okay." Baffled, you reached for the device on the desk and handed it over. Fox drew a data stick from his pouch, inserted it into the data pad and tapped the screen briefly. Then, his visor lifted until you thought he was looking at your face.

"Everything alright with the animals?"

"Oh, yeah. No problems," You shifted uneasily.

"Good," his word hung in the air between you. Suddenly your datapad beeped in his hand. He plucked away the data stick out and held the pad out for you. You took it and held the screen up to see what he had done. A new file had been uploaded. You opened it to find a building diagram, with three floors and a few rooms numbered and labeled.

"Oh! Thank you! I really needed this. Just a little bit ago, I-"

"I know." He cut in, his voice low and quiet. You opened your mouth to explain, then closed it, again unsure what to say to this man.

"The boys have been reminded to close their doors when out of uniform."

"Um...thank you. I... Would hate to intrude on anyone's privacy again."

"Oh, they have no sense of privacy. I just don't want you to become distracted. Goodnight, doctor." Before you could fully process his comment, he had turned and begun walking away down the hall. Your door closed with a swish.

You? Become distracted? What a presumptuous asshole. You flopped on your bed, letting the frustration and irritation wash over you. This is why you preferred working with animals. Animals never left you feeling awkward. After a few minutes mulling it over, you began to yawn. The last hour has been far too eventful, but you were finally ready to sleep.

You tried to push uncomfortable thoughts from your mind as you slid beneath the thin blanket. Memories of your time living in the thick forests of I'vorcia danced through your thoughts. The faint glow of the five moons in the sky. Overlapping melodies from nocturnal insects. The calming scent of tree back. Peace washed over and soon you were drifting off to sleep.

"Thunk....thunk....thunk,"

You perked up a bit, listening for the muffled sound. You soon realized that the dull pounding noise was coming from the room on the other side of your wall. Occasional grunts of exertion were barely audible as well and you determined that they must belong to someone participating in some sort of exercise. Great. The walls were so thin you could hear your neighbor doing pushups next door. You buried your head underneath the pillow. It didn't block out the sound completely, but it quieted the noise enough to soothe your annoyance and allow you to drift off into a deep sleep.

Chapter Text

"No, STOP!" You could see Esk barring her teeth from across the room. Fortunately, the clone had the good sense to listen and quickly obey. He dropped the harness that he held inches from the massif's face and slowly backed away. You rushed to his side, dancing around the soldiers and animals crowding the space.

"That was close- you could have just lost a finger," you gently guided the Massif back into her cage. Turning around to assess the room, it was all chaos. "Okay, everybody freeze." Immediately, twelve armored soldiers stood up tall, backs straight, feet together, helmeted faces pointed in your direction. They might not have a uniformally good instinct with animals, but they followed instructions well. 

"Um... Alright. Relax. Uh.. at ease." Their tense posture melted. A few spread their feet and clasped hands behind their backs.

"Change of plans. We're going to start out with just a few of you at a time," you tried to sound confident and authoritative. "You, there. Go ahead and leave Besh in her kennel with her harness on. We'll just work with the three massifs that are already leashed. You three," you pointed in turn at the soldiers holding the leashes. "Spread out. The rest of you, line up along the wall. I expect you to be watching and listening."

The men quickly moved into place- nine of them standing straight in a row along the wall while the three holding leashes tried clumsily to lead the animals a comfortable distance away from each other. You cleared your throat. 

"Our first priority is building a positive relationship with these animals. We've had a chaotic start this morning, but first impressions aren't everything. If an animal does not have a secure attachment to the people that they work with, their only motivation is self-preservation. They will be wonderful partners once they learn that they can trust you." There was no doubt that the hounds were stressed and frightened. You looked around, considering the twelve clone troopers in the room with you. You took a deep breathe before addressing them.

"You're going to need to relax." An awkward silence ensued in which none of the soldiers moved. You sighed. "Okay- new rules. When you come into this room, you take off your helmets. Go ahead. Take them off. Now. You can set them off to the side over there..." After a moment of hesitation, the men began to remove their helmets, a few walking over to collect the helmets of their companions holding the massifs' leashes. "Facial cues will be important during the first couple of weeks as the hounds get to know you. Make eye contact. Exaggerate your expressions. Make yourself as easy to read as possible." The massifs continued to look tense, bristles standing upright. 

"Good," you encouraged as the men set their helmets aside and returned to their positions. "Now, let's fix your posture. You can't stand like that," you waved a hand at the men, "you need to show through your body language that you are relaxed. Open. Calm. These animals need to connect with you as people before they will be ready to serve you as soldiers." The men looked back and forth at one another, then gradually adjusted their bodies- some slouched, other shook their limbs loose. A trooper sat down against the wall and a few others followed suit. The massifs grew visibly calmer. Their pupils returned to a normal size, their bristles slowly lowered and their breathing slowed.

"There we go. Alright you three. Names?"

"Nyle."

"Wynn"

"Shaker"

"Okay, now meet Fern, Esk and Cherek. Go ahead and face them. Meet their eyes and show that you're relaxed. When you're calm, they can tell and they feel safe." You watched closely as the men faced their hounds for a while before instructing them to hold out a hand. "Palm down, fingers loose. Don't approach quickly and never go all the way- if they feel comfortable, then they will move to meet you." Within a few seconds, Esk stretched her neck out to sniff at Wynn's hand. The others followed after a tense minute.

"Perfect. Now, leashes like this!" You showed the men how to use their leads to guide the hounds. It took a bit of work before the three pairs were moving around, awkwardly trying to synchronize their pace. After a while, the massif hounds were returned to their cages and a different set of soldiers retrieved their assigned animals, with some guidance on leashing. They had listened well and were soon parading their massifs around the room comfortably.

You were scanning the room, feeling pleased, when you were startled by the sight of another soldier. He stood outside the bay door, hands behind his back. His red armor, visor and draped thigh coverings were distinctive. Commander Fox was silently observing from a distance. You turned away. If he wanted to intrude or interrupt, than you couldn't exactly stop him, but if he was just watching, you were determined to ignore him.

"Focus!" You shouted across the room as one of the handlers smiled and raised an eyebrow at one of the other soldiers that was observing. "These animals will learn from your examples to tune out distractions. If walking together is too easy, try switching to a jog." That proved a humbling lesson to the soldier, who found himself a moment later huffing and tripping as he tried to set the pace for his hound. "Pause! Reset! You need to be firm in your authority. Show confidence and clarity in your movements...Don't let yourself be dragged around!" You chanced a look around the bay door. To your relief, the commander was gone.

All the hounds and soldiers had barely had a chance with their massif hounds when one of the men politely pointed out that it was ten minutes past your scheduled end time. You apologized and excused them, returning all the hounds to their kennels and making sure that they each had water after the exertion of the morning. 

You rushed down to the mess hall and grabbed a plate hurriedly, not sitting to eat it but carrying it back to the training room with you. The massifs were resting quietly and you were glad for a brief moment to collect yourself in privacy before the afternoon training session began. You had learned a lot from the morning group and planned to lead this group a bit differently.

Soon enough, a new set of twelve soldiers were milling in. Hound was among them, and he greeted you warmly and introduced the men with whom he had arrived. 

"I'm going to apologize preemptively. I'm sorry, but it may take me a while to learn your names. I'm not used to working with so many people at once..." You decided to leave out the part where it was especially difficult as most of the men wore similar armor and had identical faces. "Now, before we begin, I would like everyone to remove their helmets and set them over there..." 

The afternoon went much smoother, as you began with only a few massifs out at a time and were prepared to regurgitate many of the same tips and lessons that you had stumbled through in the morning. 

"Talk to them!" You yelled at the three soldiers awkwardly shuffling around with their leashed animals. "It's going to seem awkward, but it doesn't matter the words you say as much as the tone that you use. You want to communicate interest and approval." You demonstrated a few handling techniques and you even allowed the men to hold a few races from one end of the level to the other, the men running together with their leashed massifs. 

Everyone was tired by the end. The hounds, once returned to their cages, melted like putty to the floor of their kennels. The soldiers were red-faced and sweating but grinning as they thanked you and wished you a good night. Hound hung back to attend to the massifs.

"Well, that was a great introduction. No big issues introducing the creatures. I guess that means they've gotten settled okay?" Hound asked as he turned to the supply closet to begin cleaning out the kennels.

"The morning didn't go so smoothly. We nearly had a biting incident." You suddenly felt exhausted and grateful that Hound was here to turn out the relief pens and refill the massifs' food and water. Hound laughed and you smiled weakly. "It's really nothing to laugh about. In my field, something like that will have an animal put down."

"Oh, yeah? That's pretty serious." Hound continued moving between cages, filling dishes. The massifs were completely ignoring him, a sign that they were already learning to trust him or that they were too exhausted to care. Maybe both.

"Yeah. I hope the commander didn't see. I noticed him snooping from the hall about halfway through the morning session."

"Ah, Fox doesn't snoop. He was probably just checking in to make sure you were doing okay."

"He could have walked into the room and acknowledged me. Let me know that he came by to check in."

"Maybe he didn't want to make you to nervous."

"Ah, well. He failed at that. Now I'm always going to be nervous that he's somewhere in the shadows, watching." 

You soon excused yourself and stopped at the mess hall. It was far from full, but the men were rather loud, so you grabbed another meal to go. You carefully followed the path to your room, consulting the map on your datapad twice on the way there, and ate peacefully at your desk while looking through messages and taking notes on your training progress. Before long you were turning off the lights and crawling into bed where you instantly fell into a deep sleep. You roused slightly after a few hours to the quiet bumps, thuds and groans of your neighbor exercising. You were too tired to care much, rolling over and falling back to sleep.

Chapter Text

By the fourth day of training, the soldiers had most basic commands mastered and were able to run through simple exercises. The hounds were adjusting well and the men were showing promise. You weren't generally fond of working with people, but the clones had a lot to offer. They listened listened well, followed instructions and were smart. They were politely respectful, friendly and... Not bad to look at. No. You had no right to think that. I was unprofessional, not to mention unconstructive.

In spite of the successes, you still found it difficult to work with so many soldiers at once. So much of animal handling came down to subtleties- changes in posture, slight differences in tone when offering a command, brief micro expressions that could tip off an animal to your impending action. Your attention was constantly jumping between the men, trying to offer them individual tips and feedback, while keeping the sessions structured and orderly. It was exhausting, both physically and emotionally. And the massifs were tired, too. Learning tasks required a lot more energy than executing them, and while you felt sure the the animals' athleticism could hold up to the rigor, their attention was drained. Thirty minutes before the end of your session, Aurek yawned and laid down while the soldier handling him was in the middle of a sequence of commands. You decided to end the session early and dismissed the men.

As the soldiers collect their helmets and made their way to the lifts, they brought their hands up in salute to a lone figure standing outside the bay door. You were glad you hadn't noticed him earlier, as you would have been even more distracted during the training session. Still, it was a bit unnerving to know that Commander Fox had been there, watching you.

"Is it okay if I head out?" you asked Hound.

"Of course! Getting these critters fed and settled isn't too hard, but I'll comm if I have any questions."

You nodded at Hound and walked briskly to the hall. Commander Fox had walked over to the lift and was pressing a button, but he straightened at your approach, visor turning towards you.

"You released the men early." he said flatly.

There was no greeting, no "how are things going?", just brevity and bluntness. Once again, you felt a nervous and uncertain how to respond. His statement wasn't exactly a question. Was he disapproving? Perhaps thought that you were wasting precious time in your short contract that ought to have been spent training?

"I did," you countered noncommittally. 

"Any...particular reason why?" his voice sounded neutral, so you decided to risk a deeper explanation.

"It's the massifs. They're... tired." you explained. There was a beat of silence and the door to the lift opened. Fox nodded into the lift cabin and you stepped in. He followed you, moving to stand against the opposite wall.

"The mess?"

"Umm... yes. Please," you answered. He pressed a button and stood quietly for a beat before continuing.

"The massifs are supposed to be able to handle eight hours straight in the field."

"Yes. That's true. And they can. It's no issue of physical stamina. But getting to know new handlers and adjusting to a new home is... a lot. Animals have complex emotions and throwing them into this is... overwhelming." Fox listened silently, then folded his arms. The lift doors opened and you walked down the corridor towards the mess hall, inwardly battling against the admission that twelve soldiers at a time was more than you could handle effectively.

"I think," you continued "We could make better progress if we switched up the training schedule. 

Fox nodded slowly and then stopped in front of the door to the mess. He turned fully to face you.

"Send me your recommendation and I'll see what I can do." He quipped.Then, without a goodbye, he spun on his heel and walked off down the hall. You paused for a moment to process this response before making your way into the mess hall for dinner. 

That night, after visiting the massifs for a few hours of quiet socialization, you returned to your room and opened a new document on your datapad. A couple of hours of structured work daily would be ideal for the animals. And if fewer men were present at each session, you wouldn't need as many hours with them. One-on-one training would make the men experts in no time, but groups of two to four seemed manageable. It was late when you sent off your proposed training schedule to Fox. You weren't sure what you expected- maybe some back-and-forth about the challenge of making soldiers available at such scattered times throughout the day. So it shocked you when your datapad pinged 2 minutes later with the simple response "Approved. New schedule to begin tomorrow." 

Relief crashed over you. The immediate switch meant a lot less effort wasted on crowd control and more focus on actual training. You hadn't expected Fox to be so accommodating. Maybe you had misjudged his straightforwardness as meanness. He hadn't been the warmest or the friendliest, but he hadn't exactly been cruel. Although... he had been rude the other night, implying that you had lustful intent when he had come by to give you a map of the headquarters.

These thoughts and others swirled through your mind as you crawled into bed. Fox was interested in seeing the massif program succeed, but he was no friend. Good thing you had Hound, or you might have felt upset by Fox's coldness towards you. And as each day progressed, the other ARF troopers were growing more friendly, so you really weren't desperate with loneliness. If only the men weren't so damned handsome.

No. You stopped yourself immediately, turning your thoughts elsewhere. You were here to work with the soldiers, not fraternize. With a deep breath, you rolled over in bed. "I'm a professional," you inwardly chanted, "I have a job to do." You tried to focus on the mantra, but it grew challenging when the noises began- barely audible sounds of exertion from the other side of your wall. You tried your hardest not to think about it, but random images flashed into your mind- sweat dripping over tan skin, familiar amber eyes scrunched up with effort, defined muscles bulging and shifting as the presumed clone next door went through his nightly exercises. You drifted off, your imagination dropping all propriety and filling your sleep with carnal dreams that woke you with an ache between your legs. You were a professional, but you were also a woman and some biological urges could only be suppressed for so long.

The next morning, you set out early, grabbing breakfast is the mess hall with significantly less trepidation than you had felt on your first day. Most of the soldiers had gotten used to seeing you and the others... You had grown used to their occasional stares. Then, you hurried up to the training room to prepare equipment for agility training. With just 4 soldiers coming through for 2 hours each, you also had to make sure that those 2 hours were completely filled with quality instruction and practice. You would be working 12 hours straight to make it through all 24 ARF troopers. If would be a long day, but you had endured longer. And besides, it's not like you had much to do in your downtime.

The first soldiers arrived right on time at 0700, removing their helmets as they entered. You invited them to leash and harness 4 of the hounds of their choosing and then immediately began a talking through the first exercise.

The course proved challenging but manageable with pointers from you and all of the soldiers were beaming with pride and satisfaction as they finished their lesson. The next set of soldiers was already waiting as the first group walked out. Each session passed in a flash, with every moment filled with close observations and personalized feedback to the men handling the animals. Halfway through your time with the fourth set of troopers, you began feeling light headed. Perhaps it would have been smart to schedule a lunch break into your day after all.

"Nice work, you'll want to spend a little bit longer at the pause tables. Be sure that your massif is actually obeying you and not just taking their own break while sizing up the next step," you commented towards one of the soldiers returning from the far end of the agility course. 

"Yes, Doctor," he smiled and nodded, then as he walked past, turned back and paused. "You alright?" 

"Yeah. I'll be fine. Just... haven't stopped to eat anything since breakfast." You swept a hand across your face.

"Ah, I see. You know, physical exertion can deplete you pretty fast, but adrenaline and mental strain can be just as taxing. Here," he reached into a pouch and tossed you a small packet. "Don't let your blood sugar get too low." 

"Thank you, Wynn" You turned the pouch over in your hands, reading the label on what turned out to be a ration bar.

"Yes, ma'am," he brought his fingers to his brow in a casual salute, then returned to the start of the agility course with the massif he was leading. You immediately opened the bar and ate it in two bites. Chewing hastily, you stepped towards the wall to deposit the used wrapper into the garbage bin when you noticed a glimmer of red out of the corner of your eye. Turning towards the hall, you spotted Fox standing outside the bay door. He nodded once at you. You offered one stoic wave, then turned back to the massifs and handlers.

"Yes! Just like that!" You yelled to a trooper who had just led his massif through a tunnel. "Now don't hesitate when you point out the next direction. If you demand their attention, they will learn to focus..." You watched and added feedback to each of the soldiers as they worked the course and the next time you could spare a casual glace towards the hallway, Fox was gone.

That night, after your final group, you were dead tired but happy. Hound, who had come for training earlier in the day, returned to care for the massifs.

"Woo-wee, you've had a long day!" Hound commented as he began filling water dishes.

"Yeah, but I can't complain. Everyone did wonderfully, even the massifs. I think the adjustment will be better for everyone." You said as you fussed over training equipment. Watching the ARF troopers throughout the day had given you ideas on which skills needed reinforcement tomorrow, so you started setting up. Once you finished, you sat on a crate and chatted with Hound as he cleaned out relief pens. You asked him about his work that day and he related a few inconsequential details about security concerns on the Senate building. You talked about the massifs until you began to yawn.

"As much as I enjoy the company, you need sleep. You don't want to wear yourself down!" Hound chided. You took your leave and made it to the cafeteria, stomach clenching with hunger. You loaded up a tray and devoured it, barely caring what you were eating. Soon you found yourself tired but satisfied, comfortable in your bed. Exhaustion gripped you so deeply that you didn't even rouse when your neighbor's interval training picked up. 

The next day, you jumped into your work with enthusiasm, running drills and talking the soldiers through their mistakes. 

"Blaze! Pause right there!" You yelled, jogging over to the struggling soldier. What had started as a simple deviance from his massif was quickly devolving into a challenge for dominance. Blaze was clearly trying to reign in his anger, but his clenched fists and narrowed eyes were doing nothing to calm the growling animal.

"I know it's frustrating when an animal won't obey, but the more angry you get, the more your hound won't trust you. They crave confident direction, not aggressive insistence. How about this- let's take a quick water break and then switch massifs, okay? That way both you and Cresh can have a fresh start..."

Right as you called the men to take a quick break, a soldier approached from the hallway, pushing a hover cart loaded with a large crate.

"Would you like these supplies over there, doctor?" The soldier tipped his helmet towards the cupboards.

"Of course. What are they? We've already received the massif's food for the day."

"No idea, ma'am. Came straight from Commander Fox, though," he offered as he moved the crate onto the floor, shoving it against the wall. He saluted and was gone in an instant. Curious, you immediately began unclasping the crate's locking mechanisms. Once loose, you slid the cover back to reveal... the entire box was full of ration bars.

Chapter Text

The ration bars came in handy and you devoured several each day as you continued working back-to-back training sessions. But with each bar that you ate, you wondered- why had Fox sent them? You saw him the evening after they were brought to your training room and thanked him. Instead of a "you're welcome", he merely nodded and said, "If you have further needs, please reach out to the requisition team." Then Fox's attention was interrupted by another soldier and he walked away after a small nod towards you. In your mind, the question remained- was he concerned solely for the pragmatic? Obviously having an instructor faint from hunger halfway through an evening would cause some training disruptions. But... was it something more? Did he send them out of consideration? Did he care about your well-being? 

Maybe you were just bored, you reasoned with yourself. This work wasn't quite as intellectually interesting as your usual assignments and so you were inventing false complications in your mind so that you could think through solutions. No, it didn't particularly matter how Fox felt about you. Whether he regarded you with ambivalence or affection, he was your professional supervisor and that was all that mattered. You were both invested in the success of the massif program.

And it was going well. After three weeks, you were ready to begin scent tracking. It was a more difficult skill for the soldiers to handle and perhaps one of the more important tasks that the hounds would perform. You decided that this complicated area of training would run smoother if the soldiers were assigned permanent partnerships with specific massifs. Late one evening, after your daily training sessions, you sat in the mess hall with a datapad and a loaded food tray in front of you. Eating eagerly as you scanned notes, you began thinking through possible matchups.

The massifs' temperaments were easy enough to grasp, but the men were more challenging. Their occasional front of formality and their uniformly high levels of competence made it slow-going as you tried to evaluate which personalities would work best together.

You had gotten to know Hound fairly well at this point and while he had an affinity for all of the animals, Grek warmed to him especially. You mused while scanning notes on each of the men and animals. Ike is on the hyper side, so definitely don't put him with Dorn or Herf. Those hounds didn't respond well to playfulness. Maybe Aurek? Griffin could handle Herf or Dorn. Maybe Bode as well?

You were so engrossed with your eating and studying that you didn't notice a soldier approach until he cleared his throat. You looked up, startled to see the man standing right beside you. Your eyes lifted to his red helmet, it's distinctive visor angled down at you.

"Good evening. Commander." You offered awkwardly, wiping food crumbs from your lips.

"Everything going well?" Fox asked quietly, tilting his head.

"Yes... The animals are troopers are both making good progress." 

Fox nodded slowly. Did he want more details? Surely he had kept up on your progress with his scattered observations from the hallway outside of your training room.

"What's this?" He looked over at your datapad.

"My notes. On the animals. And the men. I want to match up each of the hounds with two permanent handlers before we move on to more advanced exercises. Building a relationship is... important. And it's more difficult if the massifs aren't shuffled around between handlers." There was a long pause. Had you rambled too much? Fox was so brief, you were beginning to feel self-conscious when he extended a finger towards your datapad screen.

"Would you like a little insight? On the troopers?" 

Your eyes went wide in surprise. "Of course! I've been trying to get to know them but... It's hard to get a sense just from observing in training." As you spoke, Fox leaned forward, his helmet inches from your cheek. You tried to ignore your discomfort.

"Some of these men are a bit different in the field. Nyle is one who will joke around in private, but he's serious and focused when he's on duty. Shake is a bit impulsive and leans on physicality over strategy. Wynn... He's calculating. Works smart and has a lot of patience..."

"Oh!" Eyebrows raised, you began typing, adding details to your notes. Fox continued, working through your list and adding helpful insights about each of the 24 men. 

"...Dub is a bit smaller than most of us. It's not obvious, but he puts it to good use and maneuvers with more finesse than a lot of other soldiers. He's precise under pressure and flexible. Best to partner him with an animal that can adjust quickly." 

Your frantic typing trailed off and you felt a surge of relief. Already, a few possible ideas rose in your mind regarding which trooper should be paired with each massif.

"Thank you, Commander. This helps a lot."

"Good," he nodded curtly. "Another tip?" 

"Yes?" you eagerly listened.

"Don't eat the rings of hudalla after 1800." He nodded down towards your food tray. "They'll keep you up at night." You caught the tiniest hint of a chuckle on his modulated exhale as he turned and stalked off, down the aisle and out the doors of the mess hall. You were left staring after him, mouth agape. What a rude man! Your choice of food from the mess line was really none of his concern. You rounded on your food tray and smugly scraped up and ate every last bite. You still weren't a big fan of the mess hall offerings, but at least the rings, with their tangy bulb slices, had some texture that resembled actual food ingredients and not just processed pastes and patties.

Your irritation with Fox softened when your eyes returned to your datapad. You typed eagerly for several minutes, mind buzzing with ideas from Fox's intel. Soon, you had crafted a final list of and turned your datapad off. Rising with your tray, you swayed a bit, not having realized how exhausted you were. But now, with the mental chore of planning assignments out of the way, your need for rest came to the forefront of your attention. You trudged a long nondescript hallways, yawning past identical doors until you made it to your room. 

Unfortunately, rest would be elusive that night. An hour after you had showered and slipped into bed, you continued to fidget, fighting to find a comfortable position that would alleviate the heartburn that clawed at your chest. Fox was right about the rings of hudalla. Damnit. Fox was right. You definitely weren't going to be eating those late at night ever again.

You adjusted your pillow, trying to coax a bit more height out of it. Your mind was sluggish with exhaustion and couldn't seem to move past thoughts of Fox. You had been irritated with the comment about your food, but now you reconsidered them. Was he just trying to be helpful? And, just as with the ration bars, was it motivated out of practicality or... was there more? How would it look if Fox cared for you? He would be warm and open, right? So far he had mostly acted aloof towards you.

The thoughts settled in your sluggish mind as you tried to coax yourself to sleep. Another hour passed and a slight shudder of the wall indicated that your neighbor had made it back to their room. After a few odd clanks, the rhythmic sounds of their exercises began. You strained your ears to pick up a soft hiss of each labored breath. Counting reps and breathing in time with the thuds of body weight hitting the floor, you began to relax. When the noises finally stopped, replaced by the whishing sound of a shower being turned on, you were finally able to drift off to sleep.

Chapter Text

"Check the board!" you repeated for the sixth time that day as your final group of ARF troopers arrived for training. "You'll see which hound you are being specifically assigned to work with. Leash them and line up by the wall."

The four men stowed their helmets and readied their massifs. Both the men and the animals were eager to begin. You began with an overview of scent work, explaining a bit about massifs biology and demonstrating a couple of handling techniques. The men's exercise for the day was to guide their massif partners to find a specific scent-doused object out of a packed crate. They initially struggled to communicate instructions to the animals but by the end of their session, each pair had been able to successfully identify the correct object at least once. As the massifs were returned to their kennels, happily panting, the men jovially chatted with the animals and with one another.

"That's a smart girl!" Lonnie scratched his massif partner behind the ears as he released her into her cage.

"Ha!" Shaker nudged Lonnie as he walked by. "Lucky you've been matched with a girl in here, since you'll never score one in your personal life." 

"Hey!" Lonnie straightened and punched his brother in the shoulder without much force. The other men laughed along with Shaker.

"We're heading to 79's tonight. You should join us, Doctor!" Venn addressed you as you worked to stow the day's equipment.

"79's? What's that?" You grinned.

"Clone bar," Shaker cut in. "It's not just for clones, though. Fun place to hang out, get a drink-"

 "-meet a girl... If you're lucky," Theo interrupted, shooting a huge grin at Lonnie.

"Oh! You know, I'm not sure that's really my thing." You glanced down at the leads that you were unknotting, hoping to hide your embarrassment.

"No? Which part?" Shaker asked "The drinking? Or... don't you like girls?"

You dropped the lead in your hand in surprise. The men laughed as you bent to pick it up and one muttered "aw, leave her alone". You finally lifted your gaze to meet Sinker's wide smile and mischievous eyes.

"Um... Well...To be honest, I'm not really into either," You said calmly. There was a moment of silence and then snickering before Venn piped in.

"So then, what do you like to do to for fun, doctor?"

"Hmm," you furrowed your brows and scanned the four curious faces now turned your way. As you tried to form a satisfactory answer, your heart leapt with gratitude at the sight of Hound waking your way from the lift. 

"Hey, boys! Good evening, Doctor!" Hound boomed and clapped Theo on the back as he reached your huddle. "You guys sticking around to help shovel out the kennels?" 

"Aww, good try, brother," Shaker laughed. "We're off to 79's. Just seeing if we could entice the Doctor to join us, but I guess it's not her scene. You should come, Hound!"

"A drink actually sounds reeeeeally nice after a day like today. I've got work to do in here, though. I'll join you all when I finish." He turned towards the cages.

"Hound, wait! Why don't you go ahead and join your brothers," you said, "I'll take care of the massifs tonight". You were eager for a chance to be alone after the awkward line of questioning from the other clones.

"Oh, no, I wouldn't want to leave you to do all that work."

"Its fine!" you assured, shooing him with your hands. "You go on and enjoy yourself."

"Uh... If you're really sure..." Hound looked back and forth between you and his brothers, who had already started towards the lift.

"Of course! Go!" 

"Thank a ton," Hound hurried to join his brothers and within a few seconds you were alone in the quiet training room. Alone except for the twelve animals in their cages. With a sigh, you started towards the farthest kennel. That had been uncomfortable enough that your hunger and exhaustion could take a backseat to your anxiety. You replayed the conversation in your mind, wishing you had handled it more gracefully. You hadn't expected the invitation to go out drinking, and even more surprising were the casual implications about your sexuality.

With nobody else on the floor, you deemed it safe enough to let Herf and Isk roam freely. After all, unstructured socialization was important to foster a positive social structure among the animals. They were easy to coax from their cages and once they had loped out to explore the room together, you busied yourself inside their kennels with a broom and hose. The simple work soothed your anxiety and you gradually worked your way through the next kennel and the next. Halfway through, your peace was interrupted by a loud growl.

You darted out of the kennel that you were mucking out, scanning for the hounds. They stood between you and the bay door, hunched tensely with their teeth barred at a soldier that was standing in the hallway. You hurried to the massifs then relaxed as you recognized the familiar helmet.

"Good evening, Commander. Can I help you?" You spoke calmly and slowly stepped forward to move in front of the hounds, who remained tense and poised to leap at Fox. 

"I... Wanted to check on things. I noticed on the base log that Hound left with some of the other men when he is supposed to be attending to his duties here."

"I told him to go join his brothers. I'm taking care of things tonight." You spoke softly but the hounds remained tense. Fox stood stiffly, one hand holding a small package and the other gripping the handle of a holstered blaster.

"Could you call them off or something?" he muttered, irritation lacing his words.

"They're just being protective," you took a few tentative steps closer to Fox, "Try relaxing. Hold out your hands to show you're not a threat." 

Slowly, Fox drew one hand off of his blaster and held it up in front of him. The massifs remained on alert.

"Try taking off the helmet, they take cues from your facial expression," you suggested. He reached up, his fingers hesitating on the rim of his helmet. With a large sigh, he lifted it off over his head and tucked it against his side. His expression remained stern, his jaw clenched and his narrow eyes fixed on the hounds.

It suddenly struck you that you hadn't seen Fox without his helmet before. He looked like all the other clones of course- tan skin and strong brow- but there were tiny differences. Shallow wrinkles creased his forehead and the corners of his eyes. His hair was longer than most of the others, with a few silver streaks at his temples. The dark circles beneath his eyes gave him a haggard look. Rugged. Handsome. The words came into your mind unbidden.

Fox cleared his throat. You hadn't realized that you were staring and quickly looked away. The massifs' posture remained tense, but not poised to stroke. You turned towards the training room and were relieved when the animals responded to your subtle gesture to follow. You sat down on a crate near the supplies and guided Herd and Isk to sit on either side of you.

"As I said, I'm covering Hound's duties tonight. Is there anything else...?" you pried, unsure why the Commander hadn't already left. 

"Yeah...I was hoping you could help me...," Fox walked over, his steps slow and careful. Glancing between the massifs, he lowered himself onto a crate beside you. The hounds relaxed noticeably. Fox set his helmet carefully behind him and then slipped off his gloves. Pulling the small package that he carried onto one knee, he worked his fingers around the edges and lifted the lid off. Rd

"Here," Fox held the package towards you. You stared in confusion. The small box was stuffed with fine-looking pastries, elaborately packed. They looked distinctly expensive.

"What's this?" you scrunched your face in confusion. Fox shrugged.

"Some Senator gave it to me as I was leaving their office," Fox muttered with a shrug, "we helped them out a bit recently and I guess they were determined to thank us for it." His eyes remained humorless but his mouth pulled tightly in the approximation of a smile.

"Oh, I see...well,' you replied hesitantly. "I appreciate it, but shouldn't you share these with your men?"

"Negative," Fox mumbled as he plucked a doughy sweet from the box. "There aren't enough to share with everyone and I can't appear to have favorites, so..." With a flash of a genuine smile, he quickly took an enormous bite of the pastry. Mouth full, he hummed briefly and nudged the box towards you. You smiled, removing your own gloves to pick out one of the desserts. It was oozing with custard filling and appeared to be dusted in flakes of gold. You took a dainty bite. It was decadent, almost painfully sweet.

"That's... rich," you managed. Fox huffed out a breath of amusement, swallowed, then shoved the rest of his pastry into his mouth in one bite. Before he had finished chewing, he grabbed another one from the box. You took small bites, savoring the flavor but a deep grunt of approval from Fox stole your attention. His demeanor was wholly transformed: his shoulder rounded in relaxation and his eyes closed momentarily. He looked ridiculous chewing with his mouth so full that his cheeks rounded. He licked his fingers with such an expression of satisfaction that it almost felt invasive to watch. You lowered your gaze to the hounds sitting by your feet. Their attention was on the half-eaten pastry in your hand. 

"So," Fox began, straightening his posture. His face turned serious again as he pulled on his gloves. "Everything went well today?" He scanned the room, eyes stilling on the board where you had written the troopers' massif pairing assignments.

"Yes!" you hurried to finish the last bites of your pastry. "The men had a great start with the scent training today. I appreciate you sharing your insights with me last night. After a little more experience, you'll have some pretty solid teams." 

"Good. I have been wondering...Will they be field-ready in less than 3 weeks?"

"The troopers will be fully trained," you began with a shrug. "They'll just need to continue to practice with the animals. They'll grow more effective the longer they work together." Fox nodded slowly.

"I wonder," he mused, turning to face you fully. "Would it be beneficial for you to supervise their continued practice?"

"Maybe. But my contract was only 6 weeks-"

"And if I filed for an extension?" he interrupted. "Do you have any obligations that would prevent you from accepting?"

"I... Uh... No...," you fumbled over words as you finally understood. "I don't have any work lined up after this." You inwardly chided yourself, hoping you hadn't sounded desperate. Your search for a new research job had continued to be fruitless.

"Good," Fox responded quickly, "because I've already submitted the request. You'll receive the offer tomorrow morning."

"Oh!" You sat up taller, startling the hounds at your feet. Fox smirked. How could you save your pride at this point? "Well thank you," you ventured cooly, "I will have to consider it."

"You'll accept," Fox said, sounding very matter-of-fact.

"Oh, really? What makes you so certain?" you retorted, irritated at his cockiness.

"You like your work here." Fox stated with the same casual confidence.

"How would you know?" you challenged, "I don't remember submitting an employee satisfaction survey."

Fox folded his arms and fixed you with a smug smile. He was really beginning to grate on you.

"I'm good at reading people," he stated simply.

"Oh, really?"

"Yes. Its an important skill in my line of work."

"Is that right?"

"Absolutely. A good soldier must evaluate every scenario to predict who poses a threat...and who might become an ally."

"Well," you tried nonchalantly, "I guess you've decided I'm an ally?" Fox huffed in amusement. 

"Yeah, you couldn't possibly be a threat."

Your temper flared in an instant. It must have shown in your expression, because Fox immediately held up both of his hands apologetically.

"Don't... take that the wrong way. You're smart and you've certainly got some tenacity. But you're soft. Too kind to cause any harm."

Was that a compliment? Perhaps a backhanded one. Your frustration teetered and you fought the instinct to slap the grin off of his face. Fox took the moment of silence as an invitation to continue. He cleared his throat.

"You don't like the crowds, but you don't mind people when you deal with them individually," he spoke quickly and smoothly, as if delivering a report. "You're patient with the men and animals and even if you find it boring, you seem to get satisfaction from seeing them learn. You didn't readily adjust to the complexity here, so Im guessing you like to keep things simple. You're independent and self-motivated. Maybe a bit proud, since you don't like to ask for help or show weakness. You're objective-focused to the point of self-sacrifice, and....," he paused for a moment, his eyes glinting. "You're fairly private, so you must be annoyed that I have you all figured out."

Your eyes narrowed, rage boiling up inside of you. It didn't matter if he was correct in most of his assessment, the arrogant way he rattled off about you made you want to scream. The massifs at your feet had sensed your unease and were shifting with agitation, back-frills raised and eyes trained on Fox. You pet their heads for a moment to collect yourself. You blinked back angry tears before returning to look at the man before you.

"My skills of perception might not be as impressive as yours, but I can tell a few things about you, as well," you offered, rising to your feet. 

"You, Commander Fox, are rude. And while your lack of courtesy doesn't seem to be motivated by malevolence," your eyes flickered briefly to the box of pastries, "You lack basic gallantry and I bet your habit of bluntness doesn't endear you to many women." 

Your words rang in the air. A brief expression flashed across Fox's features- his eyes rounding and mouth hanging open. Then suddenly, he began to laugh. You deflated slightly as his loud whooping echoed around the enormous room.

"I have work to finish. Excuse me," you stammered, pulling your gloves on and turning to direct the massifs back towards their kennels. Fox's chuckle died down and stood for a moment, watching you shuffle towards the cages. He  shook his head, then turned to walk away. At the bay door, he paused, turning back to address you in a warm, steady tone.

"When you get your offer in the morning... Counter for higher pay. They'll go up to 20% over your current rate." Then he pulled his helmet down over his face, and disappeared down the hall.

You feverishly scrubbed at the remaining massif kennels, releasing the frazzled energy you had worked up. You couldn't make sense of how or why Fox had gotten you so worked up, but at least you understood that the stress had triggered your adrenal response. You tried to reframe the situation in terms that you could reason with. In a fight or flight scenario, you were much more comfortable with flight, but that wasn't much of an option here. Primal instincts, you mused, often weren't compatible with the constraints of civilized society.

Unconstrained animal life was so much simpler. If you were a female altagak and Fox were a grass frog, you could simply leap at him and bite off his head. The idea, while wildly impossible, brought you some small amusement and satisfaction. Searching your brain for a more appropriate comparison, your thoughts settled on the commanders' namesake. The sled foxes of Berea were part of a complex and brutal ecosystem and needed to work together for their survival. Even if individuals fought over hierarchy or territory, they never fought to kill. Unless mating prospects became a factor. 

Eventually your anger dissipated and was replaced with worry. This had better not make things awkward between you and Commander Fox. You had been disrespectful, but surely not enough to warrant any retaliation. Right? Extending your contract here would help you stay afloat until a good research job opened up, but it would be an unpleasant several weeks in your supervisor was mad at you.

Soon enough, the kennels were cleaned and the massifs lazed contentedly, ready to settle in for the night. As you walked over to the supply galley, you immediately noticed the half-filled pastry sitting on a crate. Commander Fox had clearly left them for you. A considerate favor, just like his departing tip about countering your contract extension offer. And yet he had called you simple and proud and whatever else he had said, laying bear your deepest insecurities as casually as one might read a trite holonet summary. He managed to treat you with equal parts consideration and disdain and it was impossible to understand. Fox was such a frustrating contradiction.

Chapter Text

The following morning, you felt steadier. Long days of hard work had a glorious way of yielding deep and easy sleep, even in spite of your next-door neighbors late night plyometrics. Reflecting on the previous night, you were embarrassed by your reactivity. You needed to get a grip on your emotions if you wanted to be respected as a professional here.

As you dressed, your datapad pinged with a new message. You opened it expectantly, and sure enough it was an offer for a contract extension. The only big surprise came from the dates specified- instead of another 6 weeks, their offer was for 12. In 12 additional weeks, you could save up enough money to keep you afloat for quite a while after you left Coruscant. Especially if you negotiated for higher pay as Fox had recommended. You skimmed the details of the document, noting only a few minor deviations from the original terms. You sent a quick counter offer to the human resources contact, already certain that you would accept the extension even if they didn't budge on the pay. It was an opportunity you simply couldn't pass up.

You rushed to eat breakfast before training began, realizing with slight disappointment that a contract extension would mean a couple months of eating the food here. A small price to pay. You moved through the hall hurriedly, responding with a quick wave to a few friendly greetings from some of the soldiers bustling around the crowded hall. Rushing beside a small group of men who stood around the beverage line, you nearly ran straight into one of the troopers.

"Oh! Pardon me," you squeaked, flailing to regain balance. He wheeled around to face you. "Oh! Commander Fox!" You straightened as he looked at you, his helmet tucked against his left side. His eyes were oddly vacant and for a moment you wondered if perhaps you had the wrong clone. But, no- it was definitely him, the patches of gray at his temples especially prominent in the florescent lights. "I was hoping to see you today. I wanted to apolo-"

Suddenly Fox cut you off with a harsh and sudden wave of his hand. The soldiers in front of him walked away, allowing Fox to step up to the caf dispenser. He turned towards it, grabbing a cup from the clean stack and filling it with caf. As soon as it was full, he swiftly lifted the steaming cup to his mouth. Without hesitation, he gulped down the caf. You stood watching him in awkward silence as he steadily drained the entire cup. Then, he pulled the empty cup away from his mouth with a heavy sigh and you began again.

"I wanted to-"

"Wait," he snarled roughly and you nearly recoiled at his tone. He returned his cup to the dispenser and stared at the brown liquid dripping into his cup. They whites of his eyes seemed bloodshot, the dark circles beneath them pronounced. Once full, he brought the cup to his mouth and once again gulped down the contents. You were transfixed, watching him drink eagerly, his jaw tense. The small protrusion in the middle of his neck, just visible above the high neckline of his black undershirt, bobbed hypnotically as he swallowed again and again.

Fox sighed again, lowering his cup. He moved to fill it again.

"Umm... Are you alright, Fox?" you asked softly.

"Didn't sleep much," he grunted, finally stepping to the side and turning towards you with his cup filled.

"Oh, I'm sorry," You offered. "We can talk another time. I've got to be at training in a moment anyway-"

"I never sleep much," he shrugged, taking another long drink from his cup. "Here, let's walk-" He drank the rest of the caf while striding through the aisle of the mess then deposited the empty cup in a bin. You followed him out of the room and fell in step beside him in the corridor.

"That's... Not very healthy, you know," you said, mentally calculating how much caffeine he had just downed in a matter of minutes. "Humans need adequate rest and excessive caffeine consumption can cause-" Fox interrupted with a humorless laugh. His eyes already looked a bit more focused. 

"I was designed for higher performance than most humans," his tone was self-assured, but he grimaced slightly. "But you weren't looking to discuss my biological imperatives." You had reached the lift together and Fox faced you as you waited. "Did you receive the contract extension?" 

"I did."

"Did you counter it?"

"I did. Thank you. But ...that's not what I needed to see you about," you winced nervously but pressed on. "I just wanted to apologize. For being impertinent... when we spoke last night." You struggled to meet his eyes. Thankfully, the lift door opened and you stepped inside, Fox following. In the lift, you glanced back at him. He looked thoughtful. 

"Let's see... I was blunt enough to upset you and you feel like you're the one who has to apologize?," he was grinning, his head cocked to the side.

"Well... You are an officer and my professional lead. I should have been more respectful." At that, Fox let out a low chuckle. The doors to the lift opened and you stepped out.

"Listen," Fox said, shaking his head as he stepped out after you. "You don't need to apologize. I've had much worse insults thrown my way. It doesn't bother me." He paused at the bay door. Inside the training room, four ARF troopers were already setting their helmets aside and pulling down harnesses for their massifs. You turned back to face Fox, who was already continuing. "But I want you to understand the way I operate. I speak my mind. I want you to feel free to do the same."

"I see," you responded. "Well, it's fine to be honest, but that doesn't mean that you have a free pass to be insensitive." A sad expression touched Fox's features, but in an instant it was gone, replaced by a calm confidence.

"Sorry, Doctor. I'm not trained to be sensitive," Fox confessed, "I'm trained to keep the people and streets of coruscant safe. And as I'm sure you've seen, things out there move fast and there isn't much room to be anything but effective."

"I haven't, but I can imagine," you shrugged 

"I'm sorry, what?"

"I haven't seen the streets of Coruscant," you clarified.

"Wait... You haven't gone out? You've stayed inside headquarters all these weeks?" Fox asked.

"Yeah," you shrugged. "I'm here to work, not go sight-seeing..." Fox shifted his weight, bringing his free hand to his forehead.

"Are you serious? That's...," Fox blinked a few times, agitated. "That's got to change."

"I don't see what the big deal is," you were beginning to feel defensive. "Cities make me nervous."

"If you don't feel safe walking around here, especially this close to the Senate district, then we're doing a pretty bad job." Fox quipped, looking up at the narrow windows thoughtfully. After a moment, his eyes lit up with excitement and he turned back to look at you. "Okay, I've got a mission for you. You're coming on an evening patrol with me tomorrow."

"I don't think that's necessa-," you began, but Fox cut you off.

"This is an order." His voice rang with sudden authority. "You will meet me at the lobby on the 12th floor at 1600."

"But I have training until 1900," you argued.

"Lieutenant Hound will lead the later groups."

"I don't think you have the authority to order me around," you shot back.

"Fine, then. Consider it an invitation." Fox's voice grew softer. "Please?"

You stared at one another, your eyes narrow with annoyance and his suddenly pleading and sincere.

"Fine," you conceded impatiently, looking back into the training room where the troopers were gathered and ready. "Don't make me regret this."

"Of course not. I'll bring along my finest manners," Fox ribbed with a slow eye roll.

"Humph!" you turned away and started towards the ARF soldiers, stomping with unnecessary force. Fox had such a way of flustering you, it was infuriating. But you pushed the distraction aside. You had work to do.

The second day of scent training was rocky and you ended up repeating the exercises from the previous day. Few partners could perform with consistent success.

"Keep trying," you encouraged. "There will be progress and then some regression with your animals. Just keep your expectations high and continue giving your best." 

Training was so challenging that you managed to make it until night before you were reminded about your obligations with Commander Fox the following day. Your final training session had ended and Hound had returned to take care of the massifs while you hung around to let a few of the hounds socialize off-leash.

"The Commander tells me that I'm going to oversee the evening training sessions while you're at a mandatory immersion exercise tomorrow." Hound pried. "What's that about?"

"Oh, is that what he's calling it," you brought fingers up to rub your temples, exasperated. "He wants me to see more of Coruscant, I guess. So he's forcing me come on a patrol with him."

"Well, that's good. I'm glad that he's taking an interest in you."

"Good? I'd prefer it if he just ignored me. I don't work well under scrutiny," you scoffed. 

"Oh," Hound paused and looked at you quizzically. "I meant that it's good for him."

"Oh? Uhh," you were taken aback. "Why? So he can have a new outlet for his surliness?" You scrunched your nose in disgust. Hound chuckled.

"Well... The Commander doesn't get a lot of opportunities to connect with many people." 

"What do you mean? He's constantly surrounded by other people?" You asked. Hound nodded and raised his eyebrows, considering.

"He's surrounded by people, yeah. But not many who he can treat as equals. He's always responsible to serve or to lead," Hound paused and bent down to pet the massifs that had sidled up to his leg. The animal relaxed and Hound moved to rub its haunches, looking thoughtful. "Commander Fox has to maintain some distance. We're all brothers and we trust eachother of course, but... It's hard to maintain authority if you're too close and friendly. Off-duty, he keeps to himself, except for a few other Commanders. But they're stationed off world most of the time." With a final pat on the animal's side, Hound stood up again and smiled sadly, "Leadership is lonely."

As Hound disappeared into the kennels to begin cleaning them, a sour feeling began to swell in your chest. Hound's words had surprised you and forced you to reframe your interactions with Fox. You remembered his repeated instructions to ask for whatever you needed. The way he eagerly helped you by sharing his knowledge of the ARF troopers and quickly changed schedules to accommodate your preferences. The way he had sought you out the previous evening to share treats that he couldn't share with anyone else. His words to you earlier that morning chimed in your head. "I want you to understand the way I operate. I speak my mind. I want you to feel free to do the same." Even in spite of the irritated way that your conversation had ended, you now recognized the bid for understanding and equality. 

After a while, you returned the massifs to their now-cleaned kennels and bid Hound a good night. Though your stomach felt uneasy, you stopped for a late meal in the mess hall, waving distractedly at a few soldiers who greeted you, before returning to your room to be alone. You stared at the ceiling, settling into an unpleasant conclusion: Fox had sought to build comradery an you had reacted terribly. You had been quick to take offense and revel in irritation at his abrasiveness without considering what his life might be like. You finally determined that when you joined him on his patrol the following day, you would aim for a fresh start.

Soon you heard the quiet reverberations through the wall of your neighbor's door opening and closing, followed a while later by labored breathing and rhythmic thuds. You finally let go of your worries about Fox, instead relaxing until conjured images of a vague, masculine form drifted through your thoughts.

Chapter Text

The following day, Hound arrived in the training room in the late afternoon. As you watched two troopers struggle to lead their massifs away from distracting scents that you had planted throughout the course, he walked up beside you.

"Glad to see the other groups struggling with this as much as we did this morning," Hound commented in lieu of a greeting.

"Oh! Hound! Yeah, it's a challenge to get animals to ignore interesting scents. They're naturally curious." One of the soldiers looked your way with bewildered eyes. "Focus on your objective!" You called out to him, "Remember: distractions become more interesting to the massifs if they can get a reaction from their handler. Stay calm and project confidence!" You watched the soldier visibly recenter himself, releasing a deep breath and rolling his shoulders back. With his eyes forward instead of down at the massifs, he muttered a brief command and gave a tug of the leash. The massif jerked its head out of the crate it had been fixated on and resumed walking, scanning the scents along the floor. His handler laughed with relief and offered the animal quiet words of praise.

"I'll take over, you should go," Hound offered, removing his helmet.

"But... I'm not supposed to go until 1600," you said as you checked your chrono. "I'll stay until this group is done."

"You're supposed to be leaving with the Commander at 1600," Hound corrected. "Go take a break. Get a good meal and rest your feet. It'll help the patrol go easier."

"That's... Actually not a bad idea." You rarely got a moment to sit down while instructing the men during training. "You sure you e got everything covered here?"

"Oh, yeah. I'll do my best to talk the guys through the course just like you did with our group this morning. I'm sure I won't be as thorough, but they'll still get some good practice in. Now get going," Hound insisted with a laugh and then turned his attention to the ARF troopers and their massifs.

"Thank you," you called before walking off down the hallway and to the lift. The mess hall was busy at this hour but you managed to find a half-empty table where you could enjoy your meal in relative peace. 

"Good afternoon!" beamed a trooper with red-painted armor sitting a few seats away. "You're the one training the ARFs, right?"

"That's me," you answered politely.

"The guys call me Foil," he offered, sliding down the table towards you and extending his hand. You shook his hand and offered your own name.

"Nice to meet you. Now tell me- how are the recon boys treating you?" He smiled broadly. 

"Oh they're great," you continued eating your food.

"Yeah?" Foil lifted an eyebrow in curiosity. He wore a comfortable, confident smile. 

"Mmmmhmmm," you nodded, chewing and swallowing. "They're doing really well with the massifs. They're great animals and I think they'll do wonderful work with their handlers."

"And what about you?" Foil pried.

"...umm... What about me?"

"Are they taking good care of you?" Foil asked, still smiling.

"That's not really their job. Besides, I can take care of myself," you shrugged. Foil laughed and looked down for a moment. You took the opportunity to take another large bite of your meal.

"I'm sure you can. I only wondered, because, well," Foil's voice lowered and his eyes narrowed mischievously, "it would be a shame for a lovely girl like you to be stationed here without someone to warm your cot."

You nearly choked on your food, suddenly realizing what he meant. You coughed and sputtered, finally clearing your throat.

"I'm not really...here...to, uh...hook up... With anybody," you mumbled as your cheeks burned with mortification that you had just insisted to him that you could 'take care of yourself'. Damnit, you were so naive. Foil laughed again and shook his head.

"Ah, all business and no play? That's too bad. Most of the guys figured that if you're not getting chummy with one of us, you must prefer women, but I guess you're just very focused. That's too bad, quite a few of us will be losing bets," he shrugged.

"I'm sorry, bets?"

"Yeah, you know- over who you might sleep with first. Most of us figured you would have gotten with one of the ARFs by now, but I guess you're a lot more serious than the other women who have worked here."

"Have there been...very many? Women who have worked here?" You managed to ask as you felt your soul wilting at the thought of the soldiers discussing your preferences. It physically pained your sense of privacy.

"A handful. Especially early on," Foil put a hand to his chin thoughtfully.

"Yeah? What were they here for?" You prompted, eager to turn the attention away from yourself.

"Well... When we were first brought here, the headquarters had to be reconfigured quite a bit. There were lots of civilians- mostly men but a handful of women- working on the place to expand it to for our needs. We were mainly trained for battle, so we had to outsource engineering and construction specialists, maintenance staff and programmers. A handful of specialized workers came in after that and trained us clones on a few things. The human females always seemed to find us clones appealing..."

"Ahem." You and Foil jumped with a start at the soldier, who had approached unnoticed as Foil was talking. His helmet had the curved visor that you were now able to recognize as an ARF trooper variety. He removed his helmet and shook Foil's hand, but looked to you with concern.

"Shaker! Hey, I was just asking about how you troopers are handling things." Foil continued in his open, friendly tone.

"Doctor, I hope Foil here isn't harassing you," Shaker glared at the other clone as he sat down his own food tray. "This kid will make a pass on anything that moves.

"Hey!" Foil leaned back and grabbed his chest as if offended, but his tone was playful. "You can't blame a guy for trying." 

"Get out of here, Foil." Shaker nudged Foil's shoulder, his tone light, but the force of his shove not insignificant.

"Alright, alright, I'm going." He stood up, pausing to salute you before gathering his own tray. "Pleased to meet you, doctor. Always feel free to call on me if you have any... needs" As he walked away, Shaker sat down across from you, settling his helmet on the table. You buried your face in both of your hands.

"I'm so embarrassed," you whispered.

"Ah, so he WAS making a pass at you. You know, you can report it if any of the soldiers say or do anything untoward-"

"The soldiers TALK about me?" You interrupted, yanking your hands away from your face. "Like, about my sex life? That is so inappropriate!" You were sure your eyes must be bugging out of your face.

Shaker shrugged but his expression was sympathetic.

"Sorry. There's really no excuse for it, but... We don't get a lot of opportunities to be around women. It's hard not to be interested in the few that we do get to work with. We may be highly disciplined soldiers, but we're also just men."

"Oh, no...," you shook your head with sudden fear. "The recon soldiers ... How am I supposed to keep working with you knowing that you're all trying to sleep with me."

"Hey, now," Shaker straightened his posture. "None of us are going to even think about it. The commander made sure of that."

"Wh..what?" You asked, your voice weak.

"Yeah, the day after you arrived, he assembled us and gave us quite the lecture. Threatened us with all kinds of...erm...," he squirmed slightly in his seat, "unpleasant consequences if he even caught a whiff of us treating you unprofessionally."

"Well... I guess that's one small mercy," you rolled your eyes. "Thank goodness for Commander Fox... Oh, kriff!" You checked your chrono. "I have to go! I'm supposed to be meeting Fox at 1600!"

"Oh, yeah- you'd better run. I'll grab your tray."

"Thanks!" You stood up, but Shaker grabbed your wrist.

"Hey!" Shaker urged. You turned to see he wore a serious expression. "Dont let them make you feel uncomfortable. The guys here are just lonely. They might try to get with you, or at least think about it, but they don't mean any harm. And they'll have your back in an instant."

You took a deep breath and sighed. "Thanks. I'll... Try not to die of awkwardness at being objectified by hordes of men who I live in close quarters with." You rolled your eyes with a grin. Shaker grinned back and then you dashed out of the mess hall to meet Fox.

Chapter Text

The lobby where Commander Fox had instructed you to meet him was as stark and unexceptional as the corridors that you traveled to get there. The utilitarian space intersected with a number of hallways and soldiers traveled in all directions. Fox stood off to the side next to a series of sliding glass doors, his arms folded.

"Sorry I'm late," you gasped as you hurried over to him. You had run half of the way there and had arrived only a few minutes after 1600.

"I'm not surprised," Fox responded simply, turning to walk towards a door, which swished open. You scrambled to his side and put into the bright sunlight.

"What's that supposed to mean?" you asked, already feeling your temper simmering. How did he manage to infuriate you so easily? Commander Fox shrugged.

"Civilians are rarely as reliable as military personnel," he muttered indifferently, leading the way out through a sliding door. You emerged into a small courtyard. Durasteel and concrete stretched out in every direction.

You hadn't been able to get a good look at the Central Command campus when you flew in, but you weren't surprised to find yourself in an expansive square filled with military vehicles and marching troops. You had exited through one of the side wings of the complex and Fox was walking in the opposite direction of the building, so you had to crane your neck to look around at the main entryway. It was surrounded by large sculptures with enormous Republic cog adorning the facade.

"I thought that you weren't here for sightseeing," Fox commented, his helmet facing straight ahead.

"Ha ha," you responded drily, whipping around to face the direction that you were walking. "I just didn't realize this place was so grandiose from the outside."

"It has to project strength. The military headquarters can't look like some prefab hovel and expect the trust and respect of leaders from across the galaxy." Fox had a quick pace, and when he abruptly turned to walk between a row of parked speeders you nearly tripped trying to keep up. Fox then darted between the larger vehicles to reach a row of speeder bikes. You stopped walking and stood in front of a speeder bike that he was climbing onto.

"Are we going far?"

"Not too far, but you walk slowly. Come on," Fox tipped his head towards the back of the bike. You instinctively searched for a comeback, then decided perhaps the barb about your speed was a neutral observation, not an insult. You weren't accustomed to hurrying, rather, your work often required the opposite: patience and slow, steady care. Awkwardly climbing up to straddle the bike, you looked around for anything to hold on to, reluctant to touch the Commander.

Fox quickly started the bike and pulled out into the aisle between vehicles. You nearly fell off, but grabbed onto Fox's shoulders to regain your balance. Fox chuckled as he accelerated. By the time you had steadied your grip with each hand centered between his neck and his shoulder pauldrons, you were ascending into the sky, passing over the gates and walls that formed a barrier around the sprawling complex. The airspace immediately over the complex seemed relatively empty in low orbit, with the distant shapes of larger ships stationed higher in the atmosphere. Moments after leaving the military airspace though, your speeder was darting around other vehicles, with air lanes of moving traffic stretching off in a different directions. You looked down and were no less overwhelmed to see endless buildings layering over each other seamlessly in a solid weave of manufactured materials.

"Where are we going?" You called loudly as the wind whipped your hair around.

"We're starting at the Imperial Plaza," Fox's low voice rumbled through his helmet modulator. "On the other side of the Federal district." 

You noticed a slight pattern in the sprawling construction, with dips and alleys forming rays that converged towards a ring in the distance. A solid, shining dome rose at its center. Another round building, enormous and metallic, towered behind it. Fox glided into a stream of vehicles heading towards the building, picking up speed to merge so that wind roared in your ears.

"That's the Jedi temple," Fox called out, pointing to the left. "We're passing over the senate offices right now." You looked around, taking in the hundreds, maybe thousands of buildings and spires and crisscrossing bridges below, just able to make out the forms of countless people moving about like grains of rice sloshing in a barrel. You were soon overwhelmed and shut your eyes, focusing on taking deep breaths and clinging to Fox as the bike leaned this way and that, occasionally jerking with sudden movement.

Soon you could feel the bike decelerating, the wind lessening gradually, and you squinted to see structures close beneath you. Now surrounded by walls and towers, Fox guided the bike towards a layered parking arena. You zipped past elegant speeders and small spaceships neatly stationed in long rows. Many were attended by chauffeurs or guards in varied uniforms. Fox guided the bike to the edge of the deepest wall of the structure, where a painted rectangle on the permacrete ground bore the label "law enforcement".

The bike finally came to a complete stop alongside a few similar speeder bikes. Fox moved to stand and you released your grasp on his shoulders. He climbed off the bike easily and extended his hand towards you. You ignored him, certain that you could manage stepping off a bike, but as you tried, your knees buckled. You practically fell into Fox's arms, one hand finding purchase on the edge of his chest plate to regain your balance. You hadn't realized it, but you had been tensing your entire body for the whole ride and now your hands and legs were shaking violently. Fox chuckled briefly and eased himself away from you. He turned to walk towards a lift door, jamming a button on the control. You shuffled after him, steadying your nerves with deep breaths.

"So where are we?" you wondered, looking around at the impressive vehicles surrounding you before boarding the lift car.

"The senate building. The senators are in session today until 1800. Then most of the representatives will leave to their private residences or move to the executive offices. It's a vulnerable transition, so we keep extra soldiers in the area to respond to any threats."

"Do you anticipate any threats?" You felt as if your organs were twisting into knots as you wondered what danger you might encounter.

"No. I wouldn't have brought you if I expected anything out of the ordinary. This is just routine."

"Oh." The knots loosened. The lift door opened and you stepped out onto a broad walkway lined with imposing sculptural supports. At the end of the long path loomed the Senate building. The sun was low, nearly blocked by the buildings surrounding you, but the metallic surface practically sparkled. 

Commander Fox walked haltingly towards the building, as if actively forcing himself to to move at a slower pace for you. You were grateful. Slightly insulted, but grateful. He scanned the space surrounding the path with steady, careful movements of his helmet. You looked around too, drinking in the foreign details of this place. The walking path that you traveled was busy and you passed beings walking in the opposite direction or milling about unhurriedly, with most wearing what looked to be uniforms or elegant professional attire. You suddenly felt very grubby in your utilitarian slacks and shirt. In the far distance you could see layers of criss-crossing pedestrian bridges, some completely packed with beings that were shoving and jostling each other. Your mind conjured the image of angry ants writhing in a disturbed colony. Your stomach clenched at the thought. As you carefully avoided those walking past, you hadn't realized that you were moving closer and closer to Fox's side until you accidentally bumped into him.

"Sorry-," you started, jumping away, but Fox grabbed your arm.

"It fine," he muttered quietly, reaching his opposite hand to your wrist. He released your arm and bent his own, weaving your hand to grasp his elbow. It seemed oddly intimate, but it wasn't uncomfortable. You had to admit that the grounding contact helped you feel a bit more relaxed. 

"So, you're not big on cities." Fox said quietly, his voice sounding gritty through his helmet.

"I hate cities," you corrected.

"Why's that?" Fox sounded neutral and curious, not judgemental. You thought for a moment so that you could offer a satisfactory explanation.

"Maybe just not enough exposure. I grew up on an agricultural planet and haven't spent much time in urban environments."

"I don't believe that. Your resume is full of academies in the core."

"Ahh, yes. I've done studies and grant work with plenty of universities in big cities. But I was always doing grant work in the field, never in residence."

"Hm," Fox said simply. In the silence that followed, you wondered why he would remember details about your resume. He must have an incredible memory.

"What about you?" You asked, tilting your head to look at the silhouette of his helmet. He faced you for the briefest moment, before looking away again.

"What about me?"

"What sorts of places have you lived? I mean, I assume you haven't always been here on Coruscant.

"That's right. We were stationed here right after the battle of Geonosis."

"So where were you before that?" You pried. However, you instantly regretted your curiosity. Fox heaved a loud sigh and continued walking in silence. You were beginning to think that he would just ignore your question when he finally spoke.

"Kamino," he said softly, then cleared his throat and continued louder "It's an ocean planet. The city is built up on platforms. Space was tight, like it is here... We completed our training there. Then when the war began, we were assigned here."

"Did you feel like you were well prepared on Kamino? Or was it a big adjustment coming here?" You tried to sound casual but again Fox sighed deeply and stayed silent for an uncomfortable minute.

"The training on Kamino prepared us to handle many types of threats in a wide range of environments," he finally stated. It wasn't exactly an answer to your question.

"That makes sense," you responded neutrally, considering how to steer the conversation. You were curious about Kamino, but it was clearly not something he wanted to talk about. In spite of the ways that he had made you uncomfortable in previous conversations, you couldn't muster the spite to do the same to him.

"Do you enjoy being stationed on Coruscant?" 

"It has some perks... as well as drawbacks."

"What are some of the perks?" you nudged.

"Well... Running water, for starters."

"What? Water?!"

"Yeah," he softly chuckled. "Soldiers in the field sometimes end up in places where water access is limited. They get drinking water with supply shipments, but... Sometimes they'll go for weeks or months on only sonic showers once or twice a week. They come back absolutely reeking." You laughed along with Fox.

"We recently had an entire legion return from a month-long battle. Everything stunk so badly- the men, their equipment, the ships- that we had to pull an entire platoon of Corries out of patrol rotation for a week to sanitize the barracks and training rooms after they left." You enjoyed laughing along with him, even if he was only sharing the most superficial details to help you get a sense of his experiences.

"I can imagine," you shook your head, still grinning. "I've had to rough it plenty and...well, It's never pretty."

Fox made a low hum in response, then muttered something so quiet that you couldn't hear.

"What was that?"

"I said I very much doubt it."

"You don't believe me? That's ridiculous- I've done long-term research projects in some pretty rough conditions-"

"No," Fox interrupted with a tinge of irritation. "I'm sure you have. I just meant that... I doubt that you would be, uh... Not pretty... under any circumstances."

You laughed nervously. Was he being sincere kr had that been some sort of joke? Should you say thank you? You mentally waded through the compliments that you could offer him in return, but before you could form an appropriate response, Fox was dropping your hand from where it rested on his arm. He looked up to the sky, one of his hands had closed over the handle of the blaster at his hip and the other raised to the earpiece of his helmet. He muttered a few clipped phrases that didn't seem to be aimed at you, and quickly relaxed the hand on his blaster.

"... has Senate Plaza air traffic control confirmed?... No alarm, bird rerouted...ten four..."

Fox cleared his throat and let his hand drop from the earpiece of his helmet.

"Everything... Okay?"

"Sorry, yeah. Just a ship swerving a bit in a nearby traffic lane. It corrected itself within a few seconds, but not before our sky team calculated that it was on a trajectory for the plaza. We have to treat every anomaly as a threat until proven otherwise." He let out a long sigh."It's... tedious."

"I can imagine," you agreed as you both resumed walking. You were approaching a large, covered balcony that must have been the entrance to the senate building. It was filled with beings who gathered in pairs or other small groups, chatting animatedly. 

"Session just adjourned," Fox muttered, "this area is about to get a little crazy. Here, this way." He reached back to place a palm between your shoulder blades and steered you through the crowd. You were terrified of being jostled but it seemed as if most tried to give you space when they spotted Fox at your back. He pushed you through the entryway and into an airy hall.  People filed out of metal turnstiles on one side, leaving the building. You and Fox walked to the nearly deserted security carousel on the other side. Guards in blue armor stood at attention on either side of a barrier. Fox stepped in front of you as you approached the men. 

"Good evening," one of the men mumbled, moving to open a gate. You followed Fox, but an arm shot out in front of you.

"Not so fast. You'll have to be checked," the man snapped. Fox whipped around.

"She's with me," Fox asserted impatiently. The blue-armored man shrugged.

"The scanner is offline for the evening, I'll just have to pat her down..." 

"Don't kriffing try,," Fox snarled, grabbing your arm and pulling you through the gate. "She's got a level D military clearance," Fox dragged you past the barrier. You waited for the guards to argue but the man who had bared you with his arm gave a flippant wave as Fox dragged you away. He didn't release his grip on your arm until you had walked further into the building, leaving the noisy atrium for a smaller corridor.

"What was that about?" you sputtered. The confrontation had both started and ended so fast you hadn't had a chance to react.

"Oh, the Senate guards are absolute pricks. A bunch of glorified security guards with no real power, but they love to challenge us for authority." 

"Oh...that seems... petty," you concluded. 

"They're bitter that the Chancellor assigned us overlapping jurisdiction," Fox explained, his anger dissipated. 

"So... What sort of perks do I get with a level D military clearance?" You grinned. Fox let out a breathy laugh.

"You don't have any clearance. I just didn't want to give those asses the satisfaction of groping you." 

"Wow," you rolled your eyes, "what a gentleman." 

"Oh, I'm sorry," he answered darkly. "Were you in the mood to be groped? Because I'm sure we can find an empty office-"

"Agh!" You instinctively swung out to slap his shoulder, then jerked back. "Ow!" Pain shot through your palm after crashing into his armor. You shook your hand out, wincing, as Fox laughed. 

"Hey, now. You'd better watch it- assault on a Commander can get you in pretty big trouble." You scowled, but your ire was already fading like the sting in your palm. You stuck your tongue out. Together, you continued walking together down the hallway. Noisy conversations from an approaching group did not allow for further conversation and so you took the opportunity to reflect. This teasing man was hardly the strict, no-nonsense Commander that you had first met when you arrived on Coruscant. Perhaps you had misjudged him.

The corridors seemed to stretch on endlessly. At some point you had turned into a broader hall with high ceilings and tall windows that offered a view of Coruscant. You seemed to be climbing higher, as if this route spiralled up the structure with a broad, gentle slope. You passed senators and dignitaries dressed elegantly, their uniformed assistants and body guards. Fox nodded politely at those who passed and you couldn't help but notice the variety of reactions he earned. Many simply nodded back, curt and professional. But others looked away hurriedly. Some scowled. One tall, thickly-built Mirialan man let out a low growl as he passed. You waited until he was out of earshot to speak up.

"What was that about?"

"It's nothing personal," Fox answered stoically.

"Really?" You looked over your shoulder at the green-skinned humanoid, who had hurried to put distance between the two of you and himself. A few more assorted being scuttled past, ignoring you and Fox. Fox kept his attention forward.

"Plenty of people here were against the formation of the GAR," Fox explained quietly. "A lot of systems would prefer to make concessions to the separatist and end the war. Their homeworlds aren't being brutalized so they see no reason to be burdened with the cost of armed conflict." 

"Hmmm... I know plenty of people don't support the war, but that's no excuse for them to take it out on you." The rude treatment must hurt, but you doubted that you would get a response if you pressed him about it.

"Homeworld Security Command was folded into the formation of the Republic Army. Coruscant security force has been long overdue for an overhaul but the bureaucratic hurdles have kept them underfunded. The Chancellor used emergency executive power to station us here and a lot of parties aren't happy about it." Fox spoke monotonously, as if reciting the specs on a hover cart or detailing the best methods to devein a burra fish. His stoic tone, heightened by the slight modulation from his helmet, seemed too much, like a deliberate cover for his actual thoughts and feelings on the situation. He continued, "We serve as a constant reminder of the battles they've lost in this very building."

"Still... You're protecting those who are against the war just as much as those who support it. It doesn't seem fair."

"The galaxy isn't fair." His constrained veneer cracked slightly as an edge of bitterness seeped out with his words. But in an instant, he was deflecting the attention off of himself.

"Pettiness in the arena of galactic politics is probably very foreign to you anyway. You grew up on a farm, right?" The question startled you.

"Uhh... No. Not exactly."

"You said you were from an agricultural planet."

"Yeah, but we weren't landowners. My family worked at the refinery to process grain to sell off-world. I started working there as a child, sweeping up in the evenings after school.

"Huh," Fox sounded skeptical. "So how did you go from a mill scrubber to holding a doctoral degree?"

"Ha. It's a pretty long story."

"And this is going to be a pretty long, boring patrol."

"Okay... let's see," you began, "I was always interested in learning, but I honestly never expected to do much outside of my homeworld..." 

It was awkward at first to begin explaining the path that took you away from your family and home and into the world of academics, but Fox was a good listener. He was a continuous stream of "oh?", "hmm", and "really?", prompting you to continue and following your explanations with interesting questions. 

You shared how your score on the galactic aptitude test earned you a spot at a small university in a nearby sector. You likely wouldn't have been able to accept the spot, but a republic-funded grant was available to cover the cost on the condition the you pursued a science degree. Everyone expected you to go into engineering or system integration or something like that- to learn skills that would prepare you to contribute and improve upon the agricultural activity on your home planet. Instead, you had been drawn to biology. 

Your family hadn't approved of your next move-transferring to a satellite campus of Mrlsst Academy on a largely undeveloped world. In your parents' opinions, the only good reason to study biology would have been to continue on to medical school, but Mrlsst specialized in plant and animal research. You hadn't talked about or thought of your family in a long time and you were surprised when your voice broke and your eyes watered, threatening to spill over with tears. 

You sniffed and fell silent, self-conscious. It's not like Fox had asked for your life story and you had rambled for... An hour? Two? You had no sense of time but through the large windows you saw a darkening sky, with only a few streaks of pink and orange clustered at one end of the scraggly skyscraper horizon. The hallway that you walked together was now completely desserted and Fox and your steps echoing through the space were the only sounds.

"So... you went into animal sciences?" Fox prodded after a while.

"Yeah. After my first semester, I was invited to join a field research trip and I absolutely loved it. My professors were impressed with my work and gave me great references. By the time I finished my PhD, I had major research groups reaching out to hire me. Until the war. Now a lot of academic funding has been diverted, so research grants are few and far between." Fox nodded in acknowledgement.

"What do you enjoy about field research?" Fox asked after a moment. 

"Well...," you paused to think of a way to summarize your love of the wild and the thrill of discovery. It seemed so far removed from what you imagined Fox's life must be here on Coruscant. "It's a really unique experience. Every site is different and your studies will have different data-collecting aims. It can be overwhelming at first as you begin a new project- adjusting to the climate and making your camp comfortable with limited resources. But then... you've got no immediate oversight, nobody looking over your shoulder. Just distant deadlines and weekly supply drops to anticipate, but other than that you're free. Free to explore and get acquainted with your subject. Free to discover and follow your hunches and learn things about a specific species that perhaps have never been known before. There is a connection there, when you begin to understand another being. There's nothing quite like it. Does that... make sense?" you looked over at Fox, smiling sympathetically.

"Hmm. I guess so." Fox's tone sounded almost skeptical. You suddenly noticed that ahead in the distance, the hallway ended in a small lobby. The windows expanded into a floor-to-ceiling transparency.

"Wow," you exclaimed as you nervously approached the glass. The sun had now fully set and artificial lights gleamed everywhere against the black backdrop of the sky. You peered out at the pedestrian level far below. "I knew we were climbing, but I didn't realize we were up this high!" 

"You're not scared of heights, are you?" Fox had drifted beside you and turned back to face the lobby, resting his back against the window.

"Not scared... Not exactly," you breathed as you continued to take in the glowing spires and shifting lines of blinking spacecraft.

"Good. Higher altitude in itself doesn't pose much risk, there are much more serious dangers out there to worry about," Fox chuckled darkly before continuing. "Anyway, if you're fine with heights, you might enjoy this next part. C'mon," he stood up and waved at you to follow. With one last sweeping glance out the window, you turned and followed. 

At the opposite side of the foyer from the windows stood an open doorway with a dim, narrow passage beyond it. You had passed many such doorways in your walk this evening and had assumed they led to private offices or service rooms.

“Go ahead,” Fox’s head tilted towards the dark hallway.

"I sure hope this isn't going to end up as some prank you're pulling to tease me," you half-joked.

"Negative," Fox murmured, standing still, waiting for you to walk ahead of him.

You squared your shoulders and walked slowly, unsure of what to expect. You reached a threshold and stepped through into a small, circular room. Small rows of emergency lights around the edges of the floor glowed dimly in the otherwise dark space. It almost looked like a small ship, with seats fitted into the circular sides and a pair of chairs in the center facing a large terminal. Fox stepped behind you and removed his helmet, the breaking seal making a soft hiss. He ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head as the longer strands settled around his face. He looked over, holding your gaze.

"What is this place?" you asked. Fox raised an eyebrow skeptically and gestured towards the darkness beyond the console. As your eyes adjusted, you realized that above the seating there were no walls. Just railings that separated you from open space. Fox stepped confidently over to the control terminal, setting his helmet down on one of the chairs. You nervously shuffled over to him, clinging to the edge and peering out. At first, all you could make out was a pattern of pinprick lights, spread out around you on every side. Soon you recognized that you were in an enormous, open chamber, with perfectly identical ridges surrounding the walls. You stared for a while, astounded by the scale of the place and the incredible uniformity of it all.

"Well?" Fox finally broke the silence and you jumped slightly.

"It's... Quite impressive." Your voice sounded embarrassingly breathless. You cleared your throat. "Is this the Senate chamber?" In the dim light, you could see Fox's mouth turn up in a slight grin when he nodded at you.

"Wow," you breathed. "Seeing snippets on the news really doesn't give this place justice. It's... So big."

"I'm glad you like it. I wasn't sure you would appreciate something so... I don't know. Artificial. Unnatural." He sounded as if he were teasing. You weren't sure if he meant to be condescending, as if your backwater experiences limited your ability to appreciate urban design and innovation. 

"I don't like cities they're full of people. I can still appreciate the genius that goes in to metropolitan design and the beauty of a place like this." Fox nodded, then turned to the control panel. 

"Well... have a seat. I'll take us down slowly."

You obeyed, sitting down in the chair beside Fox's helmet. Your hands shot to the arm rests when the floor beneath you jolted and you began to drift out into open space.

It was bizarre to experience flying while indoors. You had probably never been inside a space large enough that a flying craft could even maneuver. But in this giant room, your little platform glided and maneuvered in wide, gentle paths without any danger of hitting anything. When you moved closer the the geometric walls, you recognize that they were infact inset with hundreds of round platforms just like the one that you were riding. Their bulbous, gleaming edges overlapped, creating an intricate pattern that made you think of enormous scales. Fox guided you past a dias elevated in the center of the chamber. This must be where the supreme chancellor would observe the proceedings of the Senate. As you passed it, you whipped your head around for one last look and noticed Fox. Instead of looking carefully in front of him as he steered the controls, he was looking at you. His eyes were wide and his lips pulled up in a gentle smile. He was staring at you. Watching you. When he made no effort to avert his eyes, you looked away, embarrassed. 

The platforms created entrancing patterns that shifted angles as you gradually moved. Long minutes stretched out as you stared everywhere and anywhere but back at Fox. Craning your neck was becoming uncomfortable, but not as uncomfortable as you would feel if you looked beside you and saw Fox still staring at you. You weren't sure what game he was playing with you. Was he trying to unnerve you with his mere attention? Or was your naive wonder at the beauty of the senate chamber just that entertaining. Unfortunately, you were too distracted to notice that the platform you were riding had reached a docking bay. It shook with a surprising jolt as its mechanical mooring system anchored it it place. You had been perched nervously on the edge of your seat and nearly toppled over, but reached out to steady yourself. You were aiming for the solid terminal but somehow ended up with your fingers gripping Fox's extended forearm.

"Oh! I'm sorry-,"

"No apology needed," Fox said smoothly. His eyes were bright and his grin lacked any hint of teasing. His smile was so warm and open. Had he always looked this young? Or was this just the effect of his brow not being furrowed in a scoff?

Oh gods. You released his arm and turned away suddenly. You had been staring long enough to make it awkward. Fox retrieved his helmet from where it sat on the seat.

"C'mon. Got a couple more routes to cover." With his face now obscured behind a dark visor, Fox led you down another dark passageway, out of the chamber. You emerged into a spacious lobby, blinking furiously to adjust to the glaring industrial lights. A few people scuttled quietly towards a pair of glass doors, but it was relatively quiet. You felt an uncomfortable need to fill the silence with conversation.

"You usually seem so busy. Is it strange for you to have such a quiet stretch like tonight?"

"It hasn't been that quiet. An hour ago, we had to deploy a gunship and two squads to break up a civilian situation a few blocks away. And twenty minutes after that, I approved a request for an escort home from the senate office building after a representative received intel on a possible threat."

"you... what?" you faltered. "But... how? You've been talking with me for hours and I haven't seen you answer any comms?" Fox brought a fist up to knock on the side of his helmet.

"HUD screen. Eye tracking interface. Audiofeed. I've been keeping up on everything our forces have done or observed."

"...oh...that's... very impressive multitasking," you answered lamely. For some reason you felt disappointed to realize that this whole evening Fox had actually been splitting his attention between you and all of the incoming security data from the district or possibly the entire world. You followed Fox out a set of glass doors and walked side-by-side with him along a wide street. The space wasn't too crowded and most beings seemed to give Fox a wide berth. You weren't sure if it was out of respect, fear or some unspoken protocol, but you were grateful for the comfortable personal space. "Wait- what about when you took off your helmet in the senate chamber?" 

"Even soldiers in active battle are required to take a break every few hours. And I have Captains on duty who can handle things when I'm unable to respond immediately."

"Captains... is that a position above a lieutenants? I'm afraid I don't understand much about military organization."

"Ha. Even if you were familiar with the general chain of command in the GAR, the Coruscant Guard has a few big differences."

"Oh, yeah? Like what?"

"First off, most divisions are headed by a general. A few of them are career military officers but most of those positions are filled now by the Jedi. Commanders work alongside them but the generals are the ones calling the shots."

"And you don't have a general?"

"I report directly to Chancellor Palpatine."

"I see. But he doesn't work alongside you?"

"Affirmative," Fox answered. "I lead the legion and carry out the Supreme Chancellor's objectives. I have a regiment and three other commanders with their own regiments that report to me. My regiment has five battalions with a few captains each. The lieutenants report to them in most cases, but it all trickles up to me." A mechanical tone had taken over his voice.

"That's...," you hesitated, voice softening "A lot." Fox gave a gruff, singular breath of laughter to deflect sympathy.

"A lot of the time I'm not the one on the ground. Mostly, I process the reports. I keep track of all the details and I make judgements and give out orders. I dispatch resources and predict needs. I'm more of a secretary than a soldier."

"Oh, I doubt that. The other troopers seem to respect you a lot, at least. And even if most of your work is behind the scenes, that's still a lot of work. A lot of burden." You weren't sure if your words came across as encouraging or dismissive, but they seemed to have a positive effect judging by Fox's deep sigh.

"I mean, I could never handle juggling the needs of a place like this," you continued. "Way too broad and complex for me. That's one of the things I love about field studies- the parameters are so narrow and there is almost no decision-making. Just...learning."

"That sounds... refreshingly straightforward."

"It is! Even if some of the ramifications of my discoveries are... well, more complex."

"What ramifications?"

"Well... Some projects are aimed at simple data collection for documentation and the expansion of scientific knowledge," you explained. "Other times, my evaluation can lead to consequences for those that I study."

"Consequences?"

"Yes. One area that I'm quite passionate about is sentience classification. A lot of beings take their sentence status for granted. But, just imagine. Entire species are sometimes miscategorized simply because they're not fully understood."

"Hmm," Fox grunted.

"It's really awful- I mean, there are beings out there entitled to the same freedoms and protections and esteem that we receive but instead their rights are stripped away just because we don't fully understand them. They might fulfill all of the criteria but we don't have enough hard data to recognize... Are you okay?" Fox's steps had faltered for a moment. His shoulders were raised stiffly and his fingers were curled into fists.

"Is...is something wrong?" you faltered.

"Nothing," came the quick, low response, nearly a growl through Fox's vocoder. He straightened, rolling his shoulders back, but you had caught the undeniable signs of agitation.

"You're clearly upset about something. What did I say?" 

"Nothing." Fox repeated.

"Wait... Are you bothered by my interest in expanding sentience?" Sudden disgust swelled within you. In certain academic circles, you had run up against a handful of figures who decried efforts to expand the umbrella of sentience to more species. They argued that an increased proportion of sentient species to all others across the galaxy would erode the value of the classification system. Their unspoken concern was the loss of their own privilege over those they deemed "lesser." Absolute drivel touted by those with more concern for the status quo than for the well being if others.

"That's... Disgusting," you spat. "As a soldier, I would expect you to care even more for the most vulnerable beings in this galaxy, who you have every moral imperative to protect!"

"That's not it!" Fox cut in angrily. A few passing aliens looked at you with alarm and crossed to the other side of the street to continue in the direction they were walking. Fox took a few deep breaths as you equally tried to steady yourself. You had stopped walking altogether and stood glaring at each other, or at least you were glaring and you suspected that he wore an equally angry expression beneath that visor.

"Why, then?" You pressed. "Why do sentience studies bother you?"

"You wanna know why?" he hissed. He learned closer so that you had to crane your neck to look towards his eyes.

"We... The clones...do not qualify as sentient," Fox said slowly and  quietly. You stared for a moment in silence, your face so close that you could see your reflection in his T-visor. Then suddenly, you laughed.

"You're teasing me. Of course humans are sentient! Haha," you stepped away from Fox, shaking your head. Fox didn't move. You laughed a bit, then he sighed and straightened.

"We are not considered human," he said louder.

"Don't be ridiculous. I've been working with the ARF troopers for weeks now. I've seen the guys in the hallways in the barracks. I think I would have noticed if you were anything other than human men."

"We are not considered human," Fox slowly enunciated, "because we are considered property. We are assets of the republic, not members of it."

Silence fell between you, but this time you did not break it with laughter. You stared, blinking stupidly, trying to process this revelation. Fox cleared his throat, returning to his usual, confident posture.

"We should continue." Fox turned and abruptly began walking again.

"Hang on," you called, scrambling to his side in a delayed reaction. "You're really serious?" Fox nodded briefly in answer, his head facing forward and not turning towards you. Your mind reeled to process the implications.

"Oh... Oh maker. I'm so sorry. I had no idea," you spluttered.

"I prefer not to dwell on it," Fox said with what sounded like forced nonchalance. Anger washed over you.

"But, that's terrible! I mean, you're clearly every bit as human as I am. So if you're being forced into work without proper consent, than you're no more than slaves! And isn't slavery illegal in the New Republic?"

"Could you please just stop?" Fox grumbled. You ignored his protest. 

"How could you be asked to fight this war? To lay down your lives for the people of this Republic without being given proper respect as full citizens of it?"

"Kriff, will you shut up? You know what- here," Fox grabbed your wrist and pulled you to the edge of the street. A small cart was attended by a merchant draped in gray robes. Fox turned towards the vendor, leaning in to place a credit in their gloves palm while pointing at the cart. A moment later, he turned back towards you, holding out a strange-looking grainy substance in a flimsi cone.

"What's that?

"Barafuraha. Just... Eat it and stop talking."

You took the cone and almost dropped it immediately. Luckily Fox caught it.

"It's cold!" you exclaimed breathlessly. Fox laughed and tilted the flimsi dish back into your hands.

"Yeah, I would hope so, it's a frozen dessert," he scoffed. You tentatively brought your lips to the edge of the cup.

"Mmmmmm." Your eyes bugged open with surprise at the sweet flavor and the cold, crumbly texture. Fox nodded and grabbed your shoulder to steer you back out towards the center of the road that you had been walking.

"Did you...want some?" You held the cold stuff up towards him.

"Negative. Enjoy." You continued nibbling and slurping as Fox led you, his hand coming to rest on the middle of your back. He didn't speak, simply walked and guided you as you ate. Soon, you were licking the last drops of melted sweetness from the wrapper.

"Thank you. For this," you held up the flimsi dish. Fox snatched it, crumpling it in his hand.

"You're welcome. You owe me five credits though." Fox

"What?! I didn't ask you to-"

"I'm kidding," he interrupted. He tossed the crumpled flimsi into a garbage bin that you passed.

"So...," you ventured, tone meek and gentle. "If you are considered property of the Republic-"

"Enough. Drop it."

"But-"

Fox muttered an incoherent string of curses.

"I'm just curious!" You responded shrilly, ''I just want to understand-"

"Curiosity killed the tooka," Fox cut in with a tone of finality. You were not going to have any luck pressing this topic. At least not tonight.

"You know, you would make a terrible soldier," Fox assessed after you had walked in silence for a while.

"Why do you say that?" You bristled.

"You walk slowly and have poor adaptability. Most importantly, you do not follow orders." 

"Hmph! Well, I was brought in to work for the GAR because my skill set is different. Besides, I think variety is a good thing."

"Huh. Really?" Fox asked drily.

"Of course!"

"Well in our training, aberrations are intolerable."

"Okaaaaay, but in a broader, complex system, variation is crucial to everyone's survival. Plus, it keeps things interesting. I mean, would you honestly prefer it if I was just like all your other soldiers?" 

"Hmmm," Fox reflected. "I guess not." 

"There, you see? Different can be good."

"Yeah, I guess you're right. You're definitely not like anyone else I've worked with. But I like you." Giddiness erupted in your chest unbidden. 

"But you sure can be aggravating," Fox added.

You inwardly deflated.

"Me? Aggravating?!"

"Yeah. You're a stubborn know-it-all," he countered matter-of-factly.

"Augh! That's rich, coming from you. Even when you're not being a closed-off control freak, you're completely insensitive!" Your words were pinched with emotion, but Fox merely shrugged.

"Variety," Fox echoed your words. "Keeps things interesting."

You really weren't sure what to make of this conversation- or of this whole night, really. Fox had complimented you, listened to you, really made you feel like he might be interested in friendship. But all of it was interspersed with teasing and rudeness and insults that left you confused. He was like a karoka fruit- somehow sweet and bitter and tangy all at once, with a hard shell and covered in thorns. 

"My patrol ends soon. We're taking these stairs to the left," Fox gestured towards a grimy concrete staircase. It was crowded with individuals hurrying up and down the steps and you found that you had to walk behind Fox to avoid bumping into others as you descended to the level beneath.

The stairs opened to a small intersection and beyond that, a pedestrian bridge packed with people. Being of every color, shape and size were pushing against one another. You hesitated, halting your step as Fox headed towards the fray. After a few steps, he turned back to you.

"Come on," he yelled over the noise of the crowd, "this is the fastest way back to the Senate parking structure." He extended a hand towards you. Still focused on the crowd ahead, you offered your hand, which Fox grabbed and slid through his bent elbow. You clung to him and together walked towards the crowd. Soon, the noise was overwhelming you, with most people shouting in languages you couldn't understand. Most of the shoving individuals tried to avoid Fox, but they didn't afford you any such respect. Within seconds, Fox was practically dragging you as you bumped your way around bodies and packs and the occasional droid. You closed your eyes as anxiety engulfed you. Bodies were pressing you in every direction as you shuffled your feet clumsily, trying to stay balanced and trusting that Fox would steer you correctly. This was it. If the crowd pressed in just a tiny bit more, yu were going to be knocked down and trampled to death. However, instead of intensifying, the jostling began to diminish slightly. You slit your eyes open to find that the crowd had thinned slightly. A few more minutes, and you and Fox emerged onto a little-traveled side street. You were breathing fast and your legs felt like jello. Then, you suddenly realized that you were leaning completely against Fox. You stepped away, releasing your grip on his arm. 

"You good?" He asked calmly.

"Fine," your squeaking voice betrayed you. 

"Ha, you'll be alright. Here, the bike is just around this corner and a few stories up.."

When you finally reached the speeder bike, the excitement and the terror and the many, many, many steps of the night were catching up with you. You felt exhausted, your feel hurt, and your nerves were frayed. You could barely find the strength to be terrified of the ride back through the skies of Coruscant, this time in the dark of night. In fact, once you reached a steady altitude, the passing lights around you began to lull you hypnotically. You slumped against Fox, interlocking your hands around his waist with a yawn. He didn't comment so you figured he didn't mind. The armor around his torso was so solid, maybe he didn't even notice. 

After several minutes of steady cruising, Fox muttered a few indistinguishable words, presumably communicating to someone through his helmet. A moment later you were descending into the GAR Headquarters compound. Fox slowed and parked the speeder, dismounting quickly. This time, you accepted his outstretched hand as you clambered down.

"Thanks. You know, you can be a decent gentleman when you want to be" you jibed as you turned and began walking towards the building.

"I do have an expansive arsenal of strengths."

"Ha! I guess modesty isn't one of those strengths?"

"A good soldier understands his abilities," he answered tersely. You rolled your eyes and after a moment he added softly, "If it makes you feel any better, I'm also acutely aware of my deficiencies." 

The expanse of permacrete surrounding the building was now illuminated by floodlights. A couple of ships moved in and out of the compound and a handful of soldiers scurried around among the vehicles. It was less busy than when you had left earlier that evening but not as quiet as you would have expected when you glanced at your chrono to discover that it was 0100.

"I guess your operations don't stop at nightfall?" You looked over at Fox and then past him where some sort of armored tank was trundling along slowly. Fox sighed heavily.

"Even when there isn't an immediate threat or order, we still have to do maintenance, check our equipment, inventory, patrol, review reports...," Fox trailed off as you reached the door. Fox tapped a few buttons on an interface built into the exterior wall and the sliding glass door snapped open. Together you stepped into the lobby, which fell silent as the door closed. You started towards the hallway straight ahead, which would lead to the lifts that you were familiar with, but Fox tutted quietly.

"This way," he turned to his left and began down and unfamiliar corridor. You followed him and quickly arrived at a lift. The doors opened to you immediately.

"I didn't realize there was a lift here. I guess I haven't bothered to become familiar with this part of the building," you mused as Fox punched a button and you began to descend. 

"Makes sense. You weren't planning to be here very long. But now you've got time."

"Yeah... You know, I was surprised by the length of the contract extension."

"Oh?" Fox tilted his head slightly.

"Yeah... I'm afraid we'll run out of exercises to do in the training room," The elevator had stopped and Fox stepped sideways, extending his arm for you to exit first.

"You're not limited to the room on level 24. You're allowed to use the grounds or take the hounds out into the city."

"Really?"

"Of course. They need to be ready to perform in the streets, they should practice in the streets."

"Off-site training will take longer. It also wouldn't fit into our schedule-"

"Then change the schedule," Fox replied quickly.

"Doesn't that pull the ARF troopers away from other responsibilities?"

"While you're here, training is their priority. We'll adjust as needed. In fact...," Fox trailed off. 

"What?" You prodded after a moment.

"Hmmm," he stalled, "I'm thinking...maybe we form a separate brigade. Just for the ARFs you're working with. Right now they're spread across a couple units, but we can pull them from patrol rotations completely and give them flexible assignments."

"I... guess it's a good idea if that would make it easier? I don't know- I've already told you I don't understand military organization very well."

"Yeah... It will take a bit of shuffling but it will be better for you." He quickly added, then rambled on. "You can have Hound full time- he'll coordinate schedules and logistics." 

It felt a bit odd having him frame the potential benefits as being positive for you instead of the troopers. After all, you were just a short term hiree. Fox' biggest concern was the results. That's what he had told you from the beginning.

By this time, you had ventured into an area that was familiar to you- parallel side aisles branching off with evenly spaced doors to troopers' sleeping stations. You passed a small alcove with a few tables and chairs squeezed together. Off-duty soldiers were often gathered there playing cards in the evening, but at this late hour it was vacant.

"I know where I am now, I can find my room from here." You announced, thinking of the welcome comfort of your firm bed.

"Okaaay," Fox paused and shrugged slightly then continued walking. You dragged your feet behind him, passing a few more aisles and turning down your own hallway. Finally you stood in front of your bedroom door. 

"You really are upping the gallantry tonight, aren't you," you asked mockingly as Fox walked a few feet ahead and then turned to face you.

"Huh?" He tilted his head, a habit you had now witnessed several times over the evening you'd been with him. It was kind of cute.

"You didn't need to walk me all the way to my room...," you explained. For a moment, Fox simply stood, his visor angled at you. Then, he reached up and released his helmet, lifting it off of his head. You were confronted with his face for the second time this evening. He ran a hand through his hair, dragging it away from his angular face, before staring at you with amber eyes. His brows were knit together in confusion. 

"I was just heading to my own quarters." He raised his hand in a fist and extended his thumb towards a door behind him. The door immediately beside yours.

It was a small gesture that sent your mind whirring. That was his room? His room that shared the wall beside your bed? Seconds before you had felt sluggish with exhaustion but now you were wide awake.

"Oh! I, uh, didn't realize your quarters were beside mine!" You blurted, cursing your voice for deciding to jump up an octave. Fox's frown deepened.

"I told you that your room was in the officers quarters, where did you think I sleep?" 

"I don't know. I honestly never thought about sleeping with you. ABOUT YOU SLEEPING. I-" you slapped two hands over your mouth. Fox raised an eyebrow, equal parts concern and confusion, as you took a few breaths through your nose. If he was amused by your reaction to this information, he had the grace not to show it. Finally, when you were sure you could trust your mouth, you let your hands drop to your side.

"Thank you for taking me out to see Coruscant tonight. It was very enlightening. I'm very tired now, good night." You squeaked, then hurriedly slapped your hand to the door pad and stepped inside. The last thing you saw before the door closed abruptly was Fox's still-confused stare as he stood in the hallway cradling his helmet against his stomach.

After a few minutes, you were cleaned up and lying in bed when the soft thuds and gentle groans picked up their usual rhythm on the other side of the wall. This time your mind was not filled with vague images of some nameless clone performing his evening workouts. You pictured Commander Fox, imagining him stretched out and tense, glistening with sweat and shaking the long bangs away from his forehead. And the fantasy was deeply, deeply alluring.

Chapter Text

You knew from the moment your alarm blared that this was not going to be your best day. You had tossed and turned irritably all night, trying to decide where you stood with Fox. As you mentally replayed every interaction from your evening with him, you swung wildly between frustration, giddiness, uncertainty, longing and dread. Not to mention that the arousal that you had experienced in letting your imagination run wild was really difficult to switch off.

There had been several moments when you had felt so sure that you and Fox had connected. But as you reflected, you couldn't be certain that his interest towards you had been genuine. One minute he was all admiration and compliments, but then suddenly he would switch to the surly Commander with nothing but scorn. You had opened up to him and told him so much about yourself and yet you barely learned anything more about him. Perhaps this was all just a game for his entertainment and you shouldn't let him string you along. Or maybe he just didn't know how to treat a girl. From the little that you could infer about his life before the war, he had probably been surrounded by his brothers from his formative years. So, it made sense that he would treat you as if you were just another one of the guys. Unfortunately, that logic brought you no closer to figuring out his intentions. Did he like you as a colleague? Did he appreciate you as an individual? Did he see you as a woman?

Of course, it didn't really matter. You had a job to do. That's what you were here for.

You dragged yourself out of bed and attended to your hygiene, dressed with your eyes half-closed and stumbled through the halls to the mess. It was crowded just as it was every morning but running on so little sleep, the bustle and noise gave you an instant headache. Depositing your tray after eating very little, you walked towards the beverage station.

Instead of smiling and greeting the soldiers that you passed, you kept your eyes on the floor. The incident yesterday at lunch with the trooper named Foil had risen to the surface of your memory. You weren't sure what to do with the realization that plenty of these men were interested in sleeping with you. Now you questioned the intentions behind every friendly smile directed your way. Waiting in line for a turn at the caf dispenser, you yawned and rubbed your eyes, when a nearby voice startled you.

"You look terrible." The rough voice made you jump slightly, but you regained your composure immediately. Only one person in this facility had the gall to open a conversation so rudely.

"Good morning, Commander Fox," you mumbled, glancing up. Sure enough he had walked up beside you, holding his distinctly visored helmet in one hand. His eyes were blank beneath a stern scowl and his mouth was set stiffly in a frown.

"What happened?" he grunted.

"Ummm, I'm not sure what you mean," you stared at him, squinting in confusion. 

"May I?" Fox muttered quietly to the trooper standing behind you in line.

"Of course, Commander," came the response and Fox slid into the queue, standing close. You stiffened at the proximity, cautious not to accidentally touch him since you were separated by only a few inches. 

"Are you sick or something?" Fox pressed.

"I'm just tired," you spat with exasperation. You looked forward, taking a few steps as the line to the caf dispenser moved forward.

"I'm always tired. I never look as bad as you do right now," came the low, even response. You scoffed and turned to face Fox. You pointedly looked him up and down.

"I wouldn't be so sure if I were you," you turned back around and shuffled a few steps forward. It was your turn at the caf dispenser. With unnecessary force, you grabbed a cup and stared at it as it filled. You stepped aside to add sugar and creamer, watching from the corner of your eye as Fox filled his own mug. He made no further attempts at conversation; just filled his caf, immediately drank the contents, and began to refill the mug. You turned and began to walk away, almost reaching the hallway when Fox called out your name. You turned uncertainly to face him as he approached.

"Here," his expression neutral, Fox moved close and pressed something small and hard into your open hand. You looked down to examine the canister.

"What's this?"

"Stim," Fox said with a shrug. "It helps you push through when you're dragging."

You stared at Fox for a moment. His expression was neutral, neither scowling or laughing. It seemed that he was genuinely offering help. He raised a single eyebrow at your appraisal.

"I don't need it," you shook your head and held the small canister out at him. Fox's lips curved into a lopsided grin. He reached for your hand again, but instead of plucking the cylinder from your palm, he pressed your fingers up, curling them around the object.

"Hang on to it. Just in case," he said mildly. Then, he slid his helmet on, his earnest eyes disappearing behind his faceplate. He offered a small nod, then turned and walked in the opposite direction. You turned thoughtfully and made your way to the training room.

The hounds were excited to see you and you spent some time greeting them as the first four soldiers arrived and began to prepare for training. The massifs were smart animals and they had come to understand that the men in the armor were there to command and direct, whereas your main interaction with them was to care for them. They licked your hand through the bars playfully as you greeted them and began leaping and rearing to hold your attention. They seemed to have a lot of bottled-up energy. Maybe they should begin a routine of physical endurance exercises to keep them calm and focused. You tucked the idea away for later.

"Good morning, Doctor!" Greeted a trooper, who approached with a lead in his had, helmet already stowed. 

"Good morning, Drip," you offered a stiff smile, your face feeling pinched from exhaustion. Drip's grin faltered.

"You alright?" he asked earnestly.

"Fine. Just tired." Understanding spread across the clones' face.

"Ohh, that's right. You did a patrol on the city last night. With Fox. Did you end up in a fire fight or something?" You laughed and shook your head, then instantly regretted it as your temple throbbed.

"No, no," you mumbled, waving a hand dismissively. "Just got back late. That's all." 

"Ha, it's easy to forget that non-clones aren't as hardy as we are," Drip patted your shoulder.

"So you guys really are built to not need as much rest?" You asked, turning the attention off of yourself.

"Oh, we like a good 8 hours sleep, sure. But need? Nah. The field guides in the GAR only guarantee 4 hours protected rest time per day for soldiers engaged in active battel. And that's with about as heavy activity as it gets!"

"Wow. That's rough," you tried to match the lightness of Drip's tone when in reality you felt uneasy. Your stomach twisted as thoughts surfaced from the previous evening. The knowledge that these men were practically slaves with no rights or protections. Of course they would be shoved into combat without a humane opportunity for rest. Drip seemed unphased though.

"Life of a soldier isn't easy," he cheerfully shrugged, leashing up his hound. "But we're lucky to be part of the Coruscant Guard. At least we have more of a routine than what you get on the front lines."

You hummed noncommittally. Another trooper approached to leash his hound. You took a deep breath to collect yourself. Your head was pounding and your limbs felt as if they were made of lead but it was time for training and you would push through. You needed to.

"Alright, boys," you force a smile and addressed the four soldiers in the room. "Let's see if we can finally are some progress working with scent."

Your first session was not fantastic- the hounds were occasionally uncooperative and the soldiers had stretches of success that would suddenly fall apart as they lost control of their hounds. The men and their assigned animals were getting to know each other better, but the hounds still occasionally challenged the soldiers for authority. They would occasionally drop their scent to engage with a distraction in their environment and resist efforts to be redirected and follow a scent. On multiple occasions, the hounds dropped to the ground and simply refused to continue. 

"Remember- be calm and authoritative. When you give more attention to the hound's preferences than your working goal, you teach them that objectives don't matter," you counseled, directing a pair to begin again back at the start of the course.

This was the third day running the same exercises and the animals were bored. They were misbehaving even more than they had yesterday morning and everyone was frustrated. You added a few more minor challenges to the course and tried switching up scents, but you would need something really different to make more progress with scent training. Unfortunately, you felt too tired and muddy-brained to come up with any good ideas.

The first training group ended and the second began, with the hounds and soldiers again struggling to work through the scent course. After an hour of struggling, you asked everyone to take a five minute break.

The four troopers stood together chatting quietly while their hounds lounged beside them. You had taken a seat on a crate in the corner and were massaging your temples. You felt horrible. You needed to try something different to make your exercises with the troopers worthwhile today, but your brain felt oddly blunt and void of ideas. This was easily the most important area of competence for these animals and yet they were behaving as if they didn't particularly care if they made it through the courses you had set up. 

You stood and walked back to the soldiers.

"Everyone ready to try again?" You tried to smile but grimaced. The soldiers gave nods and words of acknowledgement.

"You don't seem like yourself today, Doctor," one of the men commented.

"I'm tired," you responded automatically.

"You need some caf?"

"I've already had so much my fingers are shaking," you admitted with a sigh.

"You want a stim?" offered one of the troopers.

"Actually... Fox gave me one this morning...," you pulled the canister from your pocket to look at it. "I've seen these but never used one. I'm not really sure what to do." You shrugged and moved to put it back.

"Here, let me show you how the syringe works. These things are great- perfect for a little pick-me-up when you're tired..." He took it from your hand. "You press here to ready it," he clicked a button on the side of the canister and a small hypodermic needle emerged from the end of the tube. "Then you can move that little piece side to side. That controls the dosage."

You looked down at the syringe, moving the control around and feeling a slight click as it adjusted through six different settings. You clicked it all the way down to the smallest dose setting and then all the way back up to the highest. You didn't want to lose your nerve and get scared of the needle, so you immediately pulled up your shirt sleeve and stabbed the syringe into your deltoid. The depression of the injection stung but a moment later you were slipping it out, tugging down your sleeve and disassembling the needle for safe disposal. You looked up and realized that all four soldiers were staring at you wide-eyed. One man had his mouth hanging open.

"What?" you ventured nervously. 

"Did you just take the whole vial?"

"Was I... Not supposed to?" You felt suddenly scared. It must have shown on your face because the troopers all suddenly assumed casual expressions.

"Uh...it's fine. You might have a bit of a hyper spell, but it will leave your system eventually."

"How long does this medicine last?"

"About eight hours."

"Oh. Well, that's perfect. Just enough to get me through the day. Now, back to work. Let's reset and try this course again."

Within a few minutes, the effects of the stim were noticeable. Your mind felt clearer and faster. Your body, which had been dragging miserably, suddenly felt weightless and agile. You watches the men work the hounds with newfound energy and called out instructions and encouragement. Ten minutes later, you grabbed a lead and harness and brought out a hound for yourself and began to demonstrate. You bounded through the course with razor-sharp focus and your massif followed accordingly. You spat out a continuous stream of instructions and ideas and the men tried to implement your strategies.

"You see? A small tug and then you walk. They follow because you have demonstrated that whatever they're sniffing isn't important-- you direct their attention, you don't follow theirs!-- Here, try it like this--no, stay facing that way, Dorn will follow--"

As the minutes passed, your energy level continued to build until you felt nearly manic. One training session ended and another began with the third set of troopers. You jumped right into demonstrations, leashing another massifs to give the one you had already handled a break.

Both the soldiers and the massifs seemed to respond to your energy level with mixed results. Everybody was turning up the intensity to keep up the same pace that you were showing. The massifs seemed more focused with less downtime to pursue distractions while the troopers grew more careless in their form.

"LOOKING UP! Posture, men! Like we've practiced from the beginning-- tighten up! Don't let the hounds get too far ahead of you!-- give your hound time to sniff! Count five seconds in your head!!!-- no, don't let them get distracted. You can see by their change of posture that they're no longer tracking--" You fluttered around, yelling and showing and teaching. Everyone was exhausted- the men were breathless and sweating more than usual and the massifs plopped onto the floor to rest between drills. But they were doing well in the scent drills.

You couldn't believe how well the stim was working. You were thinking faster and clearer, making more observations and responding to them with targeted instructions. As each successive training session continued, you expected the effects to wear off. But instead of the bleary cloud of exhaustion from that morning returning, you felt your excitement continue to intensify. 

It was a productive day. The men who trained in the afternoon and evening finally made consistent progress and you had formed a great plan for future training. The massifs were happily exhausted. They were smart, capable animals and it had become clear that what they needed most was more consistent challenge and a bit more opportunity to release excess energy. 

When your final team left for the night, you freed half of the hounds from their kennels to let them socialize. You wandered among them, splitting your attention between them and your datapad. You made frantic notes about the individual ARF troopers, ideas for new routines and training exercises, as well as thoughts on the animals' psychological and physical needs. You grew fidgety and set the datapad aside, taking up the task of cleaning and organizing the training equipment.

"Woah! Is this safe?"

You whipped around to see Hound walking in, arriving to tend to the animals' nightly needs. You smiled and waved. The Hounds roaming about the room perked up at his approach.

"Yeah, they're fine. They're tired. They're happy. I trust these 6 to get along." 

"Alright, if you're sure," he said nervously, setting his helmet aside. A moment later, one of the hounds leapt over playfully and Hound dropped to his knee to scratch the Hound's back vigorously. "Hey there grizz."

"Grizz?" You cocked your eyebrow in confusion, hanging a freshly untangled handful of leashes neatly along a row of hooks

"Yeah. I like to call her Grizzler. Grek doesn't suit her," Hound explained with a huge smile as the massifs flopped onto her back to expose her belly for rubbing. You laughed.

"Names are important to us clones," Hound explained. "We're assigned number designations, but we've each come to choose a name that we prefer."

"You know, I've never wondered before how you ended up with such a fitting name for this work. How did you get the name 'Hound'?"

"Hmmm," he looked thoughtful for a moment. "It started as a nickname early on. I mean eeeeearly. Probably before I'd ever held a blaster." Hound sat down fully and grek--Grizzler-- sat down between his legs, poking her nose up towards his stomach as he pet down her neck.

"When you were on Kamino?" The name of the planet jumped to your mind from your conversation with Fox the previous night. 

"Yeah, back on Kamino. There wasn't a lot for the imagination there, so I enjoyed delving into the educational modules. We hadn't seen any other biomes or animals in person- that didn't come until the final year or two of training when we did some off-world exercises. Anyway, I saw this video snippet with a Lurca hound. You ever seen one of those? They're pretty neat little critters. Anyway, it was howling in the vid and I thought that was amazing. So I started mimicking the sound. I would howl at my batchmates and they all thought it was pretty funny and soon enough they were calling me Hound." As he spoke, his demeanor was calm and open. He grinned at the memory.

"It's interesting," you responded, prompting him to look up at you. "You seem to have fond memories of Kamino."

"Well, it certainly wasn't easy, but me and my batch mates shared some good times growing up there. We took a lot of pride and satisfaction in our work. We had each other. Does that surprise you?"

"Oh, it's just that... Last night, Fox brought up Kamino briefly, but it seemed like a touchy subject for him." You scanned the hounds, watching a pair of them began to tug halfheartedly at opposite corners of a rope.

"That makes sense," Hound said with a slow nod. "He was brought up in the command batch. They... had it rougher than the rest of us."

"Rougher?"

"Yeah. He was always slated for leadership. Him and the other commanders, they were pushed harder. I've heard that their trainers were pretty harsh and required them to meet crazy standards. There was pressure for all of us to be perfect, but those that were meant to lead... They had to be beyond perfect," Hound concluded, shaking his head at the thought.

"That does sound hard," you agreed.

"Well, it's late," Hound said, standing up. "I forgot that you did the rounds with Fox last night. You must be tired, especially with how hard you were running around today during training..."

"No, I'm fine, actually," you responded. "Had a rough morning, then took a stim, so I'm feeling great. In fact, why don't I help you with the kennels tonight?"

"Oh, you don't have to do that," Hound waved you off.

"But I want to! I'm still feeling a bit wired. Maybe it'll help me burn off a little energy before bed."

"Oh, yeah? That explains the pep you had today! How many hits did you take?"

"Pardon?"

"Sorry- the doses. From the stim dispenser. Did you take more than one? Because I tend to get a little peaky if I take more than one."

"Ummm... I just used the whole thing."

"The whole thing?" Hound burst into laughter. "No wonder you've got so much energy. Alright, well then by all means- stay and let's knock out these chores real quick!"

You followed Hound back to the massif's kennels and got to work. Scrubbing out relief pens side-by-side, you chatted back and forth. You rambled animatedly about the animals that you had studied and Hound shared stories about some of the adventures he had enjoyed, both on and off duty. Halfway through the work, you began to slow down a bit. After another kennel, you were moving clumsily enough that Hound took notice.

"You getting tired?"

"Yeah, a little," you admitted. 

"Coming down off a stim can be rough. You should head to bed before it hits hard," Hound recommended.

"I'll just get the hounds all fed and caged before I go..." you told him, wandering out of the kennel. 

A small whistle was enough to bring a few of the massifs over. The others wanted to be chased, but you managed. Breathing heavily, you locked up each of the animals. Then, as you walked back and forth to fill each food dish from the portioned meat in the chiller, your feet fell heavier and heavier. Your vision began to narrow slightly. You clung to the wire-mesh fence surrounding one of the kennel runs as a wave of dizziness hit you. 

"You alright, doctor?" Hound asked, emerging from a kennel with a broom in hand.

"Just... tired, I think," you mumbled, closing your eyes and running a hand down your face.

"Why don't you sit for a bit. I'm almost done with this last kennel. When I'm done, I'll walk you down to your room."

"That... would be great. Thank you." You stumbled slowly over to a pair of crates pushed against the wall. You sat down with a sign of relief. A large yawn overpowered you and your eyelids grew suddenly heavy. You felt your muscles go weak and gently leaned forward, lowering your body against the surface of the crate. You looked out at the training room, noting only how interesting it looked from this sideways angle before you closed your eyes and fell asleep.

A while later, you heard Hound gently repeating "doctor?" and tried to respond, but your body seemed impossibly heavy, your mouth sealed shut. He was grabbing your shoulder and shaking it forcefully, but your muscles remained limp. You tried to open your eyes, to tell him that he could leave you to sleep here, but neither your eyelids nor your mouth seemed intent on obeying you. You plunged back into unconsciousness.

Time passed- perhaps a minute or perhaps several hours. You slept so deeply that you couldn't tell. But you approached consciousness at another disturbance. A conversation nearby floated through your haze; an exchange between two nearly-identical voices.

"I'm sorry sir, I didn't mean for you to come by personally."

"It's no trouble, I was just finishing my duties when I saw your message."

"Still, you didn't need to bother yourself, I just wasn't sure what to do with her "

"She said she took a whole stim vial?"

"Yes, sir."

You felt a pressure on your wrist, then your hand was lifted above you. You tried to yank your hand away, but your muscles ignored you. Your wrist was released and your arm dropped heavily onto the crate. A finger and thumb forcefully pried one of your eyes open. As your pupil adjusted, you were confronted with a view of a red painted clone helmet with a red visor just inches from your face. You tried to recoil, tried to tell the men to leave you alone and just let you sleep, but your body remained uncooperative and all you managed was to lean slightly away and moan inarticulately. Your eye was released to clamp shut again. Deep breathy laughter sounded from close by.

"Should we take her to the medbay, sir?" 

"Nah, she's fine. Post-stim crash. She just needs to sleep it off." 

"Do we... Just leave her here?" 

"We could...but I don't want anyone else to come across her like this."

Your head spun and your limbs tumbled wildly and you felt the bizarre sensation of flying, though you reasoned that you were probably just being picked up.

"I could take her, Sir."

"No need. Others might assume this to be a compromising situation. I wouldn't want you to face uncomfortable questions."

"And what about you, sir?"

"Ha. Nobody questions me."

"Very well, sir."

"Goodnight, Lieutenant Hound."

"Goodnight, Commander Fox." 

The world spun again as you were flung over Fox's shoulder. Strong arms braced your thighs while your torso bent over, head and arms hanging down with your ass sticking straight up. You tried to pound a fist but your hand only managed to weakly brush against hard armor.

Soon, Fox started walking with you draped unceremoniously over his shoulder. You wanted to fight. You wanted him to leave you in peace in the training room. But the rhythmic jostling of his even steps lulled you back into deep unconsciousness. You experienced one final, fleeting moment of awareness as the movement abruptly stopped and your experience of gravity went spinning again. When the spinning stopped, you were sprawled flat on your back on what felt like your firm bed. Was drawn around you. You thought you felt the light brush of gloved fingers against your cheek. Then the swish of a closing door sounded and peaceful sleep engulfed you.

Chapter Text

You felt much better waking up after such a deep night's sleep. Whatever had happened last night, you were ready to leave it in the past and start fresh. The mess hall seemed as lively as usual, but you felt as though more glances than usual were turned your way. You filled your tray, your appetite having returned full force after barely eating the previous day, and looked around for an open table. As you moved through a tight aisle between two tables, a shock trooper leaned back and met you with a smile. You froze. 

"How's our full-dose femme feeling this morning?" 

"I'm...sorry?"

"Oh, everyone is talking about how you took a full stim yesterday!" The trooper's smile grew broader and the others sitting around him at the table all laughed. "A burly trandoshan would buckle under that much. You've got grit, girl!" He punched you on the arm just a bit too hard, but you grinned placatingly.

"Now, now- don't give her too much credit," one of the clones cut in through the laughter. "I heard she crashed so hard that she had to be carried to the barracks!"

"No way, who told you that?" Another clone chirped.

"One of the guys starting third shift said he passed the Commander carrying a limp body over his shoulder."

"Oh, best not to pry when the commander heads towards his quarters dragging an unconscious woman." The men all erupted into fresh peals of laughter even as your appeasing smile faltered.

"Well, maybe you shouldn't believe everything you hear. Excuse me," you nodded politely and continued walking. You passed the open table you had been aiming for and instead carried your tray out of the room, into the hallway and continued up to the training room to eat in solitude.

You hadn't realized that your self-consciousness and embarrassment around these soldier could grow any stronger, but you were wrong. You ate in silence and were grateful to turn your attention to the hounds and your new training routine for the day. The notes and plans you had developed yesterday were absolutely inspired.

Footsteps echoed from the lifts and you assumed that the troopers were arriving to begin their training session. You turned and were surprised to see just one figure stalking towards you. A figure with a red visor instead of the white of the ARF troopers.

"You," you hissed, folding your arms and narrowing your eyes at Commander Fox. "What the kriff is your problem??"

"Glad to see a good night's sleep has restored you to your usual charming self," Fox responded calmly.

"All the men are talking about me! I feel like a total fool!"

"You should," Fox countered, his voice even. "Who takes a full vial of stim?"

"How was I supposed to know what a normal dose is?!"

"Because you're a doctor..?"

"I have a doctorate degree, I'm not a karking medical doctor!" you shouted, throwing up your arms in frustration. 

"Okay, sorry. It's common knowledge to every soldier. I guess I should have just left you to suffer through your day," Fox folded his arms so that you almost mirrored one another.

"So," You pressed after a moment of staring angrily in silence. "You just came by to make me feel even more ridiculous?"

"No," Fox cleared his throat and, after a brief pause, stood up straighter. He continued in a formal tone, "The reassignments that we previously discussed will take effect tomorrow. The men have all been informed." 

"Oh," you deflated a bit. "That's good."

"Lieutenant Hound will be at your disposal full time. The others have been formed into an independent squad and given internal responsibilities which will take secondary priority to their training. Is there anything else that you need?" You blinked stupidly. You had been so occupied with your anxiety over this fresh social turmoil that you were disoriented turning your attention back to the real reason that you were here: to train soldiers.

"Umm... Not that I can think of," you answered.

"Is there anything that you need... personally?" Fox asked, then tilted his head to add softly. "You're working too hard." 

"A bold assumption from a chronically over-worked caf addict," you quipped. Fox sighed, but you had a sense from the pitch of his exhale that beneath his helmet he was smiling.

"Just... don't push yourself too hard when you really need a break. You'll wear yourself out." Fox said, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. It was hard to muster a response when he sounded so earnest; so sincerely concerned for you.

"I'll try to keep that in mind," you finally said, nodding slightly. Then, loud voices carried from the direction of the lift and a few seconds later, four ARF troopers were walking into the room. Fox turned and walked away, nodding at the men who paused to salute as he passed.

The men were chatting more animatedly than usual. They had just learned that their assignments were shifting to focus more on the massifs and they were excited.

"It'll be a nice break from getting shot at in the lower levels!"

"Maybe not- some of our tasks might include janitorial duties."

"No way- they'll have us in cushy jobs, like organizing files and doing inventory."

"I'm glad you'll be having an easier time outside of training," you interrupted as the men got settled, "That means I can push you even harder!" The men chuckled.

"Hey, doctor! I heard that you took a full stim yesterday during your late morning session! Is that true?"

"You did look rough, I guess you must have needed it--"

"Enough," you called out firmly. "Leash up! I've got some new exercises for you all..."

The new exercises that you had drawn up the previous night were perfect for both the massifs and the ARFs. It took some creative problem solving, which kept the massifs interested, while allowing the soldiers to maintain their authority with them. Between the successes with training and the excitement over the impending changes with their assignments, everyone was in a good mood. Though you would have preferred not to have had to field questions all day with each new set of soldiers about your adventure with the stim. 

The men determined that their reassignments warranted a celebration and agreed to go to 79's that night. After your final training session, a group of ARF troopers arrived to invite you to join them. They pushed and pushed, but you declined and again offered to turn out the kennels so that Hound could join his brothers. He argued, but you insisted. It was a peaceful night. You cleaned up the kennels and training arena, then returned to your quarters pleasantly exhausted.

When you pulled the covers up in your cot, you fell asleep quickly. It was a few hours before the soft footfalls and gentle thuds from Fox's room roused you slightly. In your drowsy, half-unconscious state, you were free of inhibition and you imagined him: shaking bangs out of his face with a glint in his eyes, smiling mischievously. You could almost feel the firm warmth of his muscles as he took you in his arms, pressed his lips to yours and moved against your body. Your cunt pulsed and your stomach clenched as you reached your hand between your legs. It wouldn't satiate the full scope of your yearning, but at least you could feel enough relief to get back to sleep.

Chapter Text

The next morning, you met with Hound in the training room immediately after breakfast. You wasted no time in sharing details of the new training routines that you had concocted.

"I want the hounds to get exercise with their trainers daily. Is there a track or something we could use for them to run?" you asked, slightly embarrassed that you still hadn't ventured out to explore any areas of the sprawling base besides the places where you worked, slept and ate.

"Well, we do have an indoor gym with a 400 meter track," Hound offered, scratching his head, "but it stays pretty crowded. Not much to do in our free time but exercise and play cards."

"And go to bars," you added with a grin. Hound laughed.

"And that, of course. Y'know, we could go outside. Take the hounds around the perimeter of the property."

"Hmm, that's not a bad idea. They could use more exposure to the outside smells and sounds anyway."

Hound listened, offered useful suggestions and occasionally asked questions. Meanwhile the first team of ARF troopers had arrived and were running through drills with their massifs.

"Let's start now," you announced, turning to the men. "Boys, we're going to exercise these dogs outside, so let's talk a bit about pacing and leash handling..."

It was an adventure getting the men and hounds outside. Not because the ARF troopers didn't handle them well, but because the soldiers that you passed all stopped and watched your group. Everyone was curious about the animals that their brothers were learning to handle. Hound led the way, knowing the most direct route to the outside, and you walked in the rear to keep an eye on everyone.

Once outside, you walked together between rows of parked gunships to an open space just before the barrier at the edge. You reviewed some simple leash skills and then sent the men off with a few minutes lead time so that they wouldn't worry about each other's paces. As you watched the soldiers and their massifs disappear around a curve following the fence, you noticed a handful of the animals pausing to sniff things, but the men tugged them along and they seemed confident.

This gave you and Hound a moment to relax while waiting for their return. You studied the grounds in more detail, having only really glimpsed them briefly the night that you accompanied Fox on a patrol. 

"So I understand that this facility was heavily altered and expanded at the start of the war?" You prompted, looking at the four long, parallel wings that stretched out in front of the building.

"Yes- it was originally a staging facility and artillery range for homeworld security forces here on Coruscant. Half of it was an impound lot- huge waste of space in this real estate. The levels down below were fortified bunkers where they could evacuate sections of the public in senate square in the event of a major threat." You listened intently as Hound explained the different areas of the base visible from the outside, then the portions below the surface.

"These were added for vehicle maintenance, though we're close enough to use the shipyards for anything major," Hound pointed towards a few large outbuildings situated across an expanse of duracrete, surrounded by parked gunships, shuttles, speeders, tanks and other vehicles.

"And what's that?" You pointed to a large, solid-looking structure surrounded in glass in front of the entrance. 

"Oh, that's the First Battle Memorial. It lists the soldiers who were lost in the battle of Geonosis," Hound explained.

"Oh," you weren't sure what else to say. Should you change the subject? It occurred to you that moving to another topic might seem flippant or dismissive, so you remained silent, staring towards the memorial.

"Did you lose anyone that you knew?" you finally asked.

"Yeah, I lost brothers. In that battle and every skirmish since," Hound said quietly. "But it's not something you need to tip toe around. Loss is an inevitable part of war. One that we've all been prepared to accept." 

You nodded and looked to Hound. He grinned gently, though his eyes looked sad. Hound looked away, past your shoulder. You turned to where he was looking and saw the first ARF trooper was rounding a corner, returning from his jog around the perimeter. 

"Alright!" you called out loudly. "Looks like you're still the one leading! Good form!"  

The men all did fairly well with the exercise and soon you were returning the animals to their kennels and calling down a different group of ARF troopers to come and take the rest of the massifs for a perimeter run. Afterwards, you headed to the mess hall for lunch, a sharp change from your previous routine. You wondered what you might do with the remaining crate of ration bars that Fox had sent to the training room.

The ARF troopers under your instruction all took their break at the same time and sat together in the mess hall. It seems that they took the matter of squad unity very seriously in this new arrangement. You weren't sure if you should join the  when you noticed one of the clones waving you over to join them-perhaps Milo? You were getting better at identifying the troopers after a few weeks now of familiarizing yourself with their subtle differences- hairstyling that was slightly different, mannerisms and posture. The starkest differences between the men were their personalities, but those weren't as easy to spot from across a room.

You enjoyed the insulation of sitting with your- or rather, their- squad. You weren't as nervous of he stares and possible interests of the other soldiers in the room. Plus, their conversations were informative... And entertaining.

Nyle shared his relief at being in a new squad and shared a few complaints about his previous company. This spurred the rest of the men to launch into stories of their fellow clones and you found yourself laughing frequently. One man shared details of his Captain's aggressive nose-picking habit. Another told of how he launched an investigation to get to the bottom of the mystery of who was leaving hairs in the basin of the shared fresher after shaving. By the time you returned to the training room with a handful of the ARF troopers, your cheeks hurt from smiling. 

The sight that greeted you when you rounded the corner from the hallway changed your mood immediately. Fox paced in front of the massif kennels, his helmet in his hand. His eyes darted directly towards you. The men around you stood at attention before Fox waved them off.

"At ease," he mumbled, eyes still focused on you. 

"Go ahead and leash your massifs! Get ready to go through warmup drills," you instructed the ARFs. Fox stepped slowly towards where you stood as the others stowed their helmets and gathered harnesses.

"To what do I owe the pleasure, Commander?" You set your face with what you hoped was a polite smile. Fox drew close, finally stopping just half an arms length from you. He smiled with a hint of mischief and shifted his weight. You tried to ignore the way your stomach clenched at the proximity.

"Just checking in on the GAR's most recent biological acquisitions and my favorite contractor."

"Favorite?" You raised your eyebrows. "Is that so?" Fox shrugged.

"We don't have many contracted employees at the moment," he responded evenly. You rolled your eyes.

"So, you're just here to watch us training? Did you finally get tired of slinking around in the hallway?" Fox's eyes narrowed and his lips pursed at your question.

"I don't 'slink'. I engage in covert observation without intruding. And actually, there is something that I wanted to talk to you about."

"What's that?" your smile dropped at Fox's suddenly serious countenance.

"A recent acquisition request arrived on my desk. It requires my approval. I figured before I sign off on it, I should ask you about it." You stared blankly at Fox until he continued, "It contained... a significant number of controlled substances."

"Oh! Yeah," you smacked your hand to your forehead. "That. It's for the animals. For scent training."

"Yeah, I figured it was something like that," Fox responded. "Just had to be sure you weren't looking for your next big chemical thrill after experiencing that full stim the other day."

You scowled and Fox chuckled darkly. 

"Have a nice afternoon," he finished with a nod, then turned and walked back towards the lifts. 

"What an ass," you mumbled under your breath before turning towards the training room. And as much as you were annoyed and borderline offended by Fox, you found yourself grinning in spite of yourself.

You needed to have your head examined. Your professional supervisor just jokingly accused you of attempting drug abuse and you were smiling. And, you were ashamed to admit, your heart was beating a bit too fast from him standing so close.

"Focus," you berated yourself, shaking your head and turning your attention to the soldiers and massifs.

Chapter Text

The new assignments and routines were a big change for everyone, but a very positive one. The massifs were performing wonderfully. The ARF troopers were demonstrating consistent improvement. You were feeling more comfortable in your role. Plus, spending your meals and scant free time with the ARF troopers, you felt a camaraderie with them that you appreciated.

You must be lonely. At least, that's what you reasoned. What else could explain the flare of good will, and even attraction, that you had begun to foster towards Commander Fox? As much as you enjoyed being independent, and were used to being isolated, your subconscious need for connection was becoming a major distraction as your mind had seemingly latched onto Fox to fill the void. Hopefully a deepened platonic friendship with the soldiers who you trained would help.

Thus you found yourself one evening holding an unfortunate hand of sabacc cards, staring down five of the troopers with your expression as unflinching as you could manage. Lonnie, started the round by folding. You added another credit to the hand pot while Shaker folded beside you. Nyle and Venn added a credit each, while Dub folded. The trading round began. Dub was relating a story about a woman who he had met the previous week at 79's. 

"...and now she won't answer my comms. I can't even be sure that the number she gave me is correct. And she was so perfect! Her hair was the color of dac wax and it moved like ocean waves when she pushed it back from her face while we talked..." Dub was staring into the distance, eyes unfocused as if mentally recreating the scene.

"Don't be ridiculous. That's how all girls' hair moves," Shaker asserted.

"Not the doctor's!" Dub's eyes, as well as the eyes of all the other soldiers, snapped to you.

Before you could respond, Shaker countered with, "That's because she always wears it tied up. Right, Doctor?"

"Um...yeah," you agreed.

"Her hair would do that, too, if she let it down," Lonnie mused.

"Is that true?" Dub asked earnestly. You grinned and shrugged.

"I don't know, lets see," you placed your sabacc cards face-down on the table and untied your hair. It fell heavily and you shook it out, mussing your hands through it a bit.

"See, Dub? That's just what hair does. It's nothing special," Lonnie teased. Dub looked crestfallen.

"But... that wasn't the only thing I liked about her! She... she laughed at my jokes!" Dub said with a vigorous nod, as if trying to assure himself.

"You dimwit; she was probably laughing at you," Venn shot, as he passed you the dice. Dub sighed dramatically.

"Don't worry," Shaker said, patting Dub on the shoulder. "You'll find someone eventually."

"I don't get it," Dub whined. "How am I supposed to find a girl?" You concentrated of your cards, drawing another from the deck. You were surprised at the number, but did your best not to react.

"Ask Shaker! He's had more luck than any of us," Nyle said, nodding to Shaker. Shaker grinned, placing his hands behind his head and leaning back in his cheap, plastic seat. Meanwhile you rolled the dice-- no shift.

"It's all about confidence," Shaker said. "Women love a man who knows what he wants." In spite of your guarded sabacc face, you couldn't stop yourself from snorting. Shaker jerked his head your way.

"Oh? Is that not what women like?" Shaker challenged, his eyebrows raised in curiosity.

"Well, I don't know. Every person is different. I can't speak for every woman," you said apologetically.

"But what do you think, doctor?" Dub asked. "If you were looking for a partner, would you be attracted to someone who was confident?"

"hmmmm," you considered, trying to split your attention between the conversation and Venn's reaction to the cards that he had just traded. "No, I don't think so. I mean, there's nothing wrong with being confident, as long as you're not cocky. I think most women would avoid a man who is egotistical." Venn picked up the dice. Nyle took a moment to think, glancing between his cards, you and Venn's faces, and the pot in the middle of the table. You were using small denominations, so the value wasn't too high, but the clones got very little petty cash.

"Well, what do women look for in a partner?" Dub pressed 

"Yeah," Shaker encouraged, now leaning forward. "What would you find attractive, Doctor?"

"Welllll," you stalled, uncertain. "I'm not sure. I...haven't really been interested in finding a partner. It doesn't lend itself well to my line of work."

"Okay, but just imagine!" Dub urged. "What qualities would appeal to you in a man?" You looked around, taking in how all of the men now stared at you, attentively. Venn had finished his turn and you fidgeted with credits and cards to stall for a moment as you thought about it.

"I suppose I'd want a man who was smart. It wouldn't have to be academic-type intelligence, but he would need to be clever. Also, driven and hardworking. No woman wants a lazy man." A few of the soldiers nodded, encouraging you to continue. "I can see why some men might think confidence is the key, but honestly I would be more interested in a man who was willing to be vulnerable around me."

"Bombing out?" A clear voice close behind you boomed, startling you so badly that you almost fell out of your seat. You scrambled to catch yourself and wheeled around to see Commander Fox, helmet in hand, standing just behind your seat. You could have kicked yourself for not hearing him approach. "Good evening, gentlemen." he looked around to the other soldiers in the room, then back at you with a grin. "You were about to call totals, right?"

"Uh... Um...," you sputtered. Fox slid closer, grabbed your hand, the hand clutching your cards, and turned your wrist upwards to show your cards. Your score was 25. Nye revealed his hand, a decent number, and Lonnie let out a hissed "yessss" as he turned his cards over to reveal a total. He quickly gathered the credits in the hand pot, with the other troopers congratulating him. Fox released your hand and moved to face the table.

"Deal me in?" Fox said smoothly. 

"Here," you gestured towards your chair. "Take my seat." 

"Aren't you playing?" Fox asked, his brows furrowed as if disappointed.

"No, I... I should get going," you stepped back from the table, but Fox grabbed your wrist.

"Just a few more rounds?" He fixed you with that open, earnest expression. You caved. 

"Okay, I guess," you muttered, sliding back to your seat.

"I don't mean to interrupt. What were we chatting about?" Fox asked as he walked around the table. You were grateful for the added distance-grateful that Fox was too far away to hear your heart racing from him grabbing your hand.

"Oh, Dub's latest heartbreak," Shaker explained, gathering the cards and shuffling them. "He's had bad luck with the ladies so we were asking for some insight." 

"Very wise of you to pick the doctor's mind," Fox said, pulling up a chair directly across the table from you. "What's the buy in?" He asked, digging into one of his pouches.

"Five for the sabacc pot, but you don't have to-," Shaker began, but Fox had already tossed a coin onto the pile. He then placed a small stack of credits in front of himself.

"We're equals here. How many rounds left and which rules?" Fox asked, attention shifting between the men. Nyle explained as Shaker delt cards and soon the betting round was underway and Dub's attention shifted back to his earlier topic.

"I just don't understand. It's always like this- the girls seem interested in me when I chat them up at the bar. I ask for their number, I tell them I'd like to go out on a proper date some time. But then they slip away and I never see them again. What's the secret?"

"Ah, that is the great mystery, isn't it?" Shaker chuckled.

"Perhaps," Fox said quietly, looking up from his cards to fix you with a smug grin, "The doctor could elucidate what Dub is doing wrong." You stared at Fox, mouth pulled tight in a frown. 

"Yeah, what do you think I'm doing wrong? It's okay, doctor- I can handle the truth," Dub pleaded. You were hardly paying attention to the cards, tossing in coins when your turn came so that you wouldn't hold up the game.

"Good intel precedes good strategy," Fox related with a nod. You sighed deeply.

"Dub- I think you're doing a lot of things right. I'm just not sure that women you meet at the bar are... looking for a relationship."

"What else would they be doing there?" Dub asked incredulously. You took in his wide, innocent eyes. You noticed a few other men smirking, including Fox.

"Dub, think about your relationship with Dorn-," you began.

"I call her Darla," Dub interrupted.

"Oh, right. Think about your massif, Darla. She responds when you give her attention and respect, right?" Dub nodded. "Well that's what women want out of a deep relationship. But do you remember what happened on the grounds this morning? When she spotted that rat?"

"I remember," Lonnie chuckled, "she went berserk! Got loose and chased it halfway across the yard. Good thing she couldn't jump the fence."

"Right," you agreed. "She switched to predator mode. She was in her most primal state."

"I don't see your point," muttered Lonnie, frowning as he split his attention between his cards and the conversation. "Are you saying that Dub needs to chase women more?"

"No, no, no," you laughed. "I'm saying that the type of women who would come to a bar hoping to meet soldiers are probably in predator mode. They're not searching for real connection- they just want to satiate their most primal desires." Dub looked thoughtful and a bit confused.

"And by that, you mean...," Dub glanced nervously around, unsure if he was broaching a taboo subject.

"She means sex!" Shaker casually cut in. "But I have to disagree with you a bit, there, doctor. Who's to say that sex isn't a 'real connection'?" 

"Hmm. I guess that is rather subjective," you looked down at your cards and considered. "I shouldn't discount the evolutionary benefits of such connections. I suppose that beneath our more complex emotional lives, we all have the same primitive needs."

You looked up from your cards and glanced around the table. There were some nods of agreement. Dub seemed a bit dejected. The players who hadn't folded were staring at their cards, ready to call. Shaker looked thoughtful.

But when you looked at Fox, his face didn't match the passive agreement of the others. His eyes were wide and intense and he was staring you down, his lips parted slightly. You looked away, uncomfortable.

The final round began and you called your total when your turn came. Lonnie won the round. Venn dealt the next.

As the game continued, you made a point of keeping conversation light and avoiding eye contact with Fox. The only time that you risked looking at him was on his turns, which were quick. He seemed relaxed but not as jovial as the others, grinning mildly as the men laughed. He worked his jaw as he examined his cards, occasionally parting his mouth slightly and running his tongue slowly along his bottom lip.

Fox won that round, and came very close in the following round. You wondered if the others were intentionally losing to him, but then Venn won and the others cheered him boisterously. You lost three more rounds, too focused on acting comfortable and confident when inwardly you were buzzing for no logical reason. 

"I think I'm done bleeding credits for tonight," you announced as you pushed back from the table and stood. "Thanks for the fun evening, guys."

To your surprise, Fox quickly stood up, bumping the table. He apologized then quickly offered the excuse that he should really be getting back to work. The troopers gave objections.

"You sure?"

"Leave the table and you forfeit the sabacc pot. Commander, you're tied with Shaker and there's 2 more rounds..."

"Thanks, but I'm tired! See you in the morning," you waved at the polite goodbyes that the men offered, then turned to walk down the hallway. You were hoping to avoid Fox, but you heard his quick steps behind you and soon he was walking beside you.

"Heading to your room?" you asked casually. 

"Affirmative," he responded mechanically.

"I thought you have work to do?" 

"I do," he answered. "My room serves a lot of purposes. Sleeping quarters. Office."

"Gym?" you offered.

"Hmm? Why do you say that," he asked. You faltered. You hadn't meant to share this. 

"I... Uh... Hear bumps sometimes. I assume you're exercising over there?"

"Oh. I'm sorry. I didn't realize the noise bothered you," he said.

"Oh, it doesn't. I mean... it's barely audible. Easy to ignore," you lied. "I just... wonder why you don't train elsewhere."

"Oh, I do. I'm in the training room or the gym almost every day. I just...," his voice dropped low and he glanced down for a moment, as if sharing some damning secret. "I get stressed. It helps me blow off some steam."

You slowed and stopping, having reached your door. You stood and faced Fox with an open expression, not wanting to appear flippant when this admission had seemed difficult for him.

"It's okay to feel stressed. You have a stressful job. There's no shame in it," you reassured.

Fox casually rested his shoulder against the wall and leaned into it, bringing his chest a few inches closer to you. You stared at the insignia on his armor- a sort of red abstract cityscape that many of the coruscant guard had painted on their armor. After a brief pause, Fox cleared his throat.

"Have you found effective ways to blow off steam since you've been here, Doctor?" When you looked up to meet Fox's eyes again, they held the burning intensity that you had seen earlier in the rec room. You looked away for a moment, nervously scanning the hallway behind Fox, before stammering a response.

"My work isn't too terribly stressful. I haven't really needed an outlet."

"Very well," Fox nodded slowly. His hand rose slowly in front of you and before you could react, his gloved fingers were grazing a lock of hair that fell across your forehead, delicately pushing it back from your face. His lips turning up in a crooked smile, he pushed away from the wall, standing at full height. "As long as your needs are met. Including your...primative needs."

You squinted at him. Was he... hitting on you? No, he had to be teasing you. That's what the cocky grin meant.

You realized too late that you were standing frozen where you stood, holding your breath, unsure how to answer. How did he always manage to render you completely speechless?! Fox chuckled softly.

"Goodnight, doctor." Fox smoothly dropped his hand, turned and walked over to the door to his room, glancing at you once more before passing through the door. It took a moment for you to realize that you were standing alone in the hall, awkwardly staring at the place where he had disappeared. When you scrambled into your own bedroom, your heart was pounding so fast and hard you wondered if you might faint. Fox was so infuriating. He was probably the busiest person in this whole complex and yet he seemed to go out of his way to cross paths with you. All so that he could play his games and get a rise out of you.

And yet.

You couldn't ignore the intrusive thought that Fox would be an excellent specimen to help you with your... primative needs. Needs that were becoming increasingly difficult to ignore.

Hours later, you stared at the ceiling as the noises from Fox's room picked up. The sound of his grunts and footballs were quieter than usual, but it seemed to go on much longer than it did most nights. Maybe it was your imagination. Maybe his work was more stressful than normal.  It surely had nothing to do with you. Fox had much more important things to worry about. You were the one thinking about him; he definitely wouldn't be thinking about you. Whatever the case, you needed to stop thinking, stop caring, stop obsessing.

Gods, I just need to get laid.

Chapter Text

You made up your mind before falling asleep: You needed to hook up with one of the clones. Nothing serious, just a casual, one-time fling. It shouldn't be hard, right? Especially if half the men in this place had already considered the possibility of sleeping with you. Bedding one of the ARF troopers was out of the question, but maybe they could point you in the right direction.

The next day, you sought a private moment with Shaker. As he was returning his massif from their morning jog, you walked over and leaned against the cage casually, scanning the area to make sure that nobody else was within listening range. The area was clear, so you took a deep breath and began.

"Hey, Shaker," you greeted with a smile. "Do you mind if I asked you a question? Sort of a personal question?" You busied your nervous fingers by fiddling with the latch on the kennel door. Shaker looked at you with eyes wide and brows knot together in confusion. 

"Uh... Sure. What's up, doctor?"

"I'm sorry to bother you with this, but I was thinking that perhaps you might....," your voice grew weaker and you looked down at your feet. The words were stuck in your throat.

"Umm... That I might what?" Shaker asked suspiciously.

You sighed. Just say it.

"Could you set me up with someone?" As the words rushed out, you looked up to see Shaker's reaction. To your immense relief, he didn't recoil. His eyes opened wide in surprise but then he slid into a thoughtful expression.

"That wouldn't be hard. What exactly are you looking for?"

"Well... I'm hoping for a man...," your eyes fluttered away from Shaker for a moment to check once again that you were alone. "... with experience. Someone who could spend a night with me and...be discreet about it afterwards?" You raised your eyebrows 

"I see," Shaker replied evenly.

A tense moment passed in silence. Shaker folded his arms, then brought one hand up to trace his chin thoughtfully. 

"I'm sure I could line someone up. A couple of my buddies from the 501st will be arriving planet-side this afternoon and we had planned to catch up. Why don't you join us tonight at 79's? I could introduce you to someone who might be a good match." 

Perfect! A clone who wasn't usually stationed here would't try to turn a one-night thing into a lengthy, messy situation. Plus, it might help keep rumors of your loose standards away from the Coruscant Guard, who you had to face for many more weeks. You weren't thrilled with the idea of spending your evening at a noisy, crowded bar, but if that's what it would take to score a good one-night stand, then you would put up with it.

"Oh, thank you, Shaker," you gushed softly, letting out a huge sigh as you relaxed. 

"No problem," Shaker answered.

"And could you... please not share this with any of the others?"

Shaker grinned, then offered a casual salute punctuated by a wink. 

You had made the right choice in coming to Shaker. It was such a relief how well he had reacted. You felt giddy with the thought that you could be hitting it off with a hunky man by the end of the night. As you returned to your work, you consciously had to remind yourself several times to focus and not let your imagination entice you with thoughts of tangled sheets and strong, agile hands.

Unfortunately, the day took an entirely unexpected turn.

You made it to late afternoon, running a group of six troopers through a scent detection exercise. Suddenly, one of the men's wrist communication units began to beep; a shrill, staccato noise that echoed through the training room and set all the massifs howling. The ARF trooper, Tackle, excused himself and jogged to the side of the room. When he opened the comm line, the incoming voice was loud and commanding. Everyone in the room froze in their steps to listen.

"CODE BROWN! Gear up and follow instructions on your helmet viewscreens!" 

"Yes, sir," Tackle grunted, already hurrying to grab his helmet. He slid it over his head and stood frozen for a few seconds. The other soldiers in the room stood tensely watching. 

"Emergency! We need to go!" Tackle shouted.

Suddenly, the room was absolute chaos as the men began sprinting around. Several of them rushed to the kennels to lock away their massif hounds while the others dove for their helmets. You scurried around, grabbing leashes.

"I've got this! You, go!" you shouted to the men, waving them off as they turned their massif's leads over to you. 

Within a minute, all of the soldiers had disappeared down the hallway and you were left alone with 4 leashed massifs looking up at you wide-eyed. You felt equally bewildered.

What was the emergency? You were so confused and afraid that your hands shook as you locked up the massifs. When you had nearly finished checking that they all had water in their dishes, your datapad beeped. You dashed over to it and opened the comm, recognizing Hound's code. You could barely hear his voice over the blare of ambient noise on his end. Was he on a speeder? Or a gunship?

"Training is off until further notice. You are commanded to return to your quarters and await further instruction!"

"Okay. Be careful!" you urged, but the comm had already closed. Urging yourself not to panic, you walked quickly to the lift and then through the eerily empty corridors to your room. Knowing that the barracks sat several levels below the surface of the planet should have felt a bit safer, but because you had no idea what the emergency was, it was hard to quell your rising terror. Was Coruscant under attack? What sudden threat could reach you here at the heart of the Republic?

You immediately pulled out your datapad, determined to fight fear with information. You scanned every local news source an public traffic cam stream that you could find for anything. Most of the reports werae inconsequential. About 10 minutes of scanning passed before you found a breaking story. There had been some sort of accident at a laboratory on the outskirts of the Galactic City sector, just beyond the side of town where GAR Headquarters was located. Details were few, but images began to emerge of a warehouse with an enormous hole through the side of the building. You read through multiple outlets reporting the same few details until more stories began to pour in. Something massive was barreling through the city. Eyewitness descriptions were divided, with some claiming it must be an advanced separatist machine while others insisted that it was a living creature resembling a krayt dragon or an enormous rathtar. Soon the holonet was flooded with images.  High rises teetered precariously with chunks torn out of them. Bridges collapsed and numerous streets were decimated from toppled debris. Your pounding heart rang in your ears as you scanned through the sudden influx of information, trying to gauge where the threat had been and where it might be right now. Piecing together details was arduous, but you were a scholar. Your research skills were fine-tuned. You quickly mapped locations to find that some of the damage reports were close enough to be alarming. Grabbing your datapad, you retreated to the fresher, folding yourself uncomfortably beneath the jutting basin. You wanted to be in the safest position possible in case the building came under attack.

Within a few minutes, you had followed the trail of destruction farther away from your location. Your relief was short lived when you realized the pattern that was forming: whatever this was, its movement was following a relatively straight route- and the path of destruction was progressing straight towards Senate Square. The representatives and lawmakers from across the galaxy who worked in the senate were in danger. The risk to them had much more far-reaching significance than your own personal safety.

Full of adrenaline, you sat glued to your screen, in frantic research mode. Slowly, more information began to trickle in. Brief recordings captured by private citizens started to circulate and it was immediately clear to you that this was no mechanical weapon. Coruscant was under threat from a monster. A giant beast was plowing a path through senate square. More footage emerged of screaming pedestrians looking on as the enormous creature sheared off the sides of buildings with it's long, flowing appendages. One video captured gunships diving between towers to take direct shots at the animal's head only to be knocked aside like toys.

Do I know the men on that ship?! Your horror intensified.

A huge amount of information was now flooding the net- calls for emergency assistance from thousands of citizens flooding the government lines, fires erupting from snapped gas lines, people desperately searching for missing loved ones. The concentration of people living in this area was so great that the scale of the disaster was overwhelming. And it wasn't over.

Long minutes crept by before news outlets began to broadcast live footage of the creature's progress. It was only blocks from the senate offices. You switched between several different drone streams. You were horrified by the monster but also fascinated by it. It's movements were almost serpentine in spite of its numerous appendages. The long fingers jutting from its arms and legs looked thin and feeble but you watched them grip through meter-thick duracrete like it was sculpting clay. Aerial craft continued to fire at the beast to no avail- its scales seemed impenetrable. Soon the creature slowed in front of the rounded dome of the Senate Office Building. It moved haltingly across the facade, as if sniffing something out. The image resolution from many of the streams dropped as news drones were ordered out of the airspace surrounding the office building. Ships and ground vehicles began pouring into the area, establishing a perimeter. Meanwhile the beast started crawling across the surface of the building, occasionally swiping at the gunships circling it and barely reacting to their barrage of fire. It whacked a gunship with its tail, sending it flying into the side of the building with an explosion. A small passenger ship emerged from the office building, which the animal quickly snatched out of the air and held in its long fingers. Forces assembled to confront the monster, with ships dropping tanks and other artillery on the street below.  

You held your breath as the standoff ensued. Daylight was fading rapidly. The creature withstood attacks from blaster canons. A pair of Jedi were spotted leaping all over the body of the creature, their glowing swords having little impact but sending the animal's limbs flailing. It twisted and reared, bucking violently, but remaining anchored to the building. Another gunship was struck down. With a blinding flash, a dozen turbo lasers ignited, their bright rays converging on the creature. After a moment, the coordinated attack seemed to finally make an impact. The creature reeled and jerked. It thrashed, eventually losing its grip on the building and plummeting to the street below. Floodlights appeared, illuminating the animal from above as it dropped limply and crashed to the surface, sending chunks of duracrete flying outward. It didn't try to get up. It didn't move at all. The monster was dead. Quickly, soldiers rushed in, binding the creature's remains with chords as ships circled lower with their tow lines extending. You watched from a spotty video stream as the ships lifted in seamless coordination with the enormous, limp carcass strung up between them. The flew in the direction from which the creature had come, eventually disappearing from view.

It felt safe enough to at least leave the fresher. You moved to sit at your desk, still buzzing with nervousness. There were too many unknown factors. What was that thing? Why was it here on Coruscant? Were your ARF troopers okay?

Was Fox okay? 

You continued scanning the holonet as more and more information came out. Small details, like the names of several Jedi generals involved in the confrontation. Some reported that the creature had attempted to target the Supreme Chancellor. Some were already rushing to blame the separatists but others pointed out that the creature had come from a Republic-owned facility. Talk of infrastructure collapse in different levels from the creature's rampage through the city soon overtook the headlines. Footage was released from various security cameras, containing more and more horrific scenes of large debris falling from above into crowded streets, streets collapsing and bodies flying through the air. It was terrible, but you couldn't stop taking it all in, searching for any trace of information that might answer your questions about the creature and about the clones. 

Eventually the tone of the official broadcasts began to shift. Emergency responders from nearby sectors were pouring in and bolstering recovery work. Dangerous areas were blocked off, fires extinguished, search and rescue operations were organized. You caught a few brief glimpses of the familiar clone trooper armor- a soldier dragging a limping Rodian from the wreckage of a storefront; troops ushering dignitaries out of the senate office building and directing crowds and traffic around blockaded streets.

You leaned back for a moment to stretch, suddenly aware of a painful cramp in your neck. You were shocked when you checked the chorono. You had been sitting there hunched over your datapad for seven hours. You took a deep breathe and pushed yourself away from your desk. You rolled your joints slowly, easing your muscles awake before standing up. You had missed your dinner, but your stomach was still tight with worry, so you didn't feel very hungry. 

The thought of dinner suddenly reminded you: the hounds had not been fed. You immediately headed for the training room. 

The hallways were no longer empty. Soldiers now moved slowly through the corridors, having returned from their work in the city. Many of them sported apparent injuries- one man had a gash across his brow, another was cradling his elbow and shuffling awkwardly. One pair of clones progressed laboriously, one man's arm wrapped tightly around the other man's shoulder as he tried to walk without putting much weight on his left leg. Their armor was covered in soot and streaks that looked like blood. 

You tried not to think about it. You just nodded solemnly and continued walking.

The massifs were agitated when you reached them. They were all awake, despite the late hour and their diurnal nature. They paced and whined as you approached. Several of their water dishes were depleted and you hurried to fill them. After that, you retrieved meat portions from the chiller and fed each of the animals. They gulped down their food aggressively. You had planned to leave the kennels until the next day, but the odor was strong and you felt wide awake, so you began cleaning. You hosed and scrubbed down each run, letting a few massifs roam the floor to work out their anxiety over the change of routine. 

As you finished the cleaning, footsteps sounded from the direction of the lift. You assumed that it was someone coming to tend to the animals, so you ushered the massifs back into their cages.

"It's alright," you called out, walking towards the sound. You turned the corner to the hallway. "I've already fed them and cleaned their-"

You jolted to a stop, words dying on your tongue. It wasn't Hound. It wasn't even one of the other ARF troopers. It was Commander Fox. And he looked terrible. 

Helmet to boots, he was covered in grime. One of his pauldrons hung crookedly from his shoulder. Slivers between his plates revealed fraying holes in the fabric beneath. His posture, usually so straight and proud, was hunched. His shoulders slumped forward, arms hanging limply. He stood unevenly, his weight shifted onto one leg. He froze at the sight of you.

"You were told to shelter in your room," he finally growled, his voice low and hoarse.

"I did!" You rushed, "I kept an eye on the news and then... when things seemed safe, I just... wanted to make sure that the massifs were taken care of."

"You didn't answer your comm," he snapped.

"S...sorry," you stammered, unprepared for the ire in his tone. "I left it in my room." 

A tense moment passed as you stared silently at one another. Then, slowly, Fox began to lift his hand opening his palm towards you. He took a small step forward and then-

Abruptly, Fox collapsed.

Chapter Text

Fox fell. Catching himself with hands outstretched to the floor, he let out a sharp yelp as he hit his knees. You darted forward, arms outstretched, but he began pulling himself back up instantly. With huffs and grunts, he stood, steadying himself against the wall. 

"You're hurt!" you exclaimed. 

"I'm fine," he snapped. Straightening himself, he rolled his shoulders back and centered his weight. Almost immediately, he sucked in a sharp breath, shifting all his weight to his right leg.

"You're not," you huffed. "Here, let me help you." You reached for hin. When he didn't pull away, you lifted his arm and slipped it over your shoulder, like you had seen a trooper doing on your way up to the training room. Fox teetered for a moment, testing how much weight he could rest on you.

"Which floor is the medical bay?" you asked, tentatively shuffling as you both turned towards the lift.

"No!" he barked, then his voice softened and he muttered. "Just... need to get to my room."

"Okay...," you said uncertainly. You wrapped an arm around Fox's back. He suddenly tensed and let out a soft groan as you slid your body against his right side. 

"Sorry!" you squeaked, leaning away from him.

Fox merely grunted in response. You stood still as he shifted carefully, closing the gap between your hips and leaning against you with rigid, controlled movements. He took an easy step with his right leg and then rested his weight on you as he briefly stepped on his left. Together, you made your way haltingly towards the lift.

"What happened?" you asked as you boarded the lift. Fox released you and leaned back against the wall.

"There was...," Fox trailed off for a moment, taking a few slow, deep breaths. He seemed to be composing himself through his pain. "There was an attack."

"Yes, I know. I saw it on the news. I mean, what happened to you?" 

"... my gunship went down...crashed into a residential highrise... Tried to rescue everyone we could..." Fox trailed off as the lift doors opened. Together you hobbled into the hallway, Fox resting a hand on your shoulder instead of wrapping his arm around both of your shoulders. It was a bit more painful as he leaned with every other step. You were about to complain when a couple of soldiers came into view down the hallway. Fox breathed in sharply, straightening his posture and dropping his hand from your shoulder. He walked slowly and evenly, nodding at the pair as they passed. Once they had disappeared around a corner, Fox let out an enormous sigh, grabbing for your shoulder again. 

"I don't get it," you whispered emphatically. "You were in a serious accident. Why are you pretending that you're fine?"

"My...men...," Fox gritted through clenched teeth, releasing your shoulder and struggling to walk normally again as another soldier came into view further down the hallway.

"Save it,'" you eased, "we can argue more when we get to your room."

The walk to your rooms was exhausting with Fox's weight on your shoulder, but it seemed so strenuous for Fox that you couldn't complain. By the time you made it to his door, his hands were shaking so badly that the biometric hand scanner took a while to identify him. The door finally swished open and Fox released your shoulder. He switched on the lights, revealing his space. The room was probably the same size or a bit larger than your own, but it felt smaller with a filing cabinet and a set of drawers crammed into it. Every flat surface was covered with stacks of flimsi, datapads and other assorted tech, giving a chaotic and cluttered feel. Gripping furniture for support Fox took a few steps and then eased himself down to sit on the edge of his neatly-made cot with a long groan. He yanked off his helmet with one hand and tossed it on the floor unceremoniously. You were relieved to see that his head and face, though sweaty and dirty, looked unharmed.

"Thank you for your help, Doctor," Fox muttered as he dug into the seam at his wrist and started peeling off a glove. He loosed one hand and then began working on the other glove. "You should go get some sleep," he suggested. Then, Fox let out a huff of frustration at the armor around his forearm that he was trying to unclasp with a trembling hand.

If you had offered to stay and help him, he probably would have refused you. So you didn't offer. You stepped into the room, letting the door swish closed behind you. Without a word, you approached the bed, kneeling in front of him.

You reached forward, your fingers finding the clasp that Fox was struggling with. It took you a moment to figure out the unfamiliar mechanism, but soon enough you removed it. You set it on the floor and grabbed his other forearm, slipping that vambrace off faster than the first. Fox seemed resigned to accepting your help. Slowly, he reached around himself to point out the releases and straps that held the rest of his upper armor. It was slow but methodical and soon he was free from the waist up. Then, Fox straightened his legs with a tortured groan. You helped him remove his boots and leg plates, leaving him to address his belt and the final pieces of armor around his pelvis. There was a lot of gasping and grunting from him as your hands passed gingerly over a wet, tattered section of his blacks behind his knee. Finally his armor all sat in a pile on the floor beside you.

"There's ... A medkit," Fox stammered, "In the fresher."

You nodded and hurried to his ensuite fresher. This portion of his room was definitely larger than yours. There was a cupboard above the basin and a few shelves over the toilet. You felt oddly intrusive scanning the surfaces where such personal items as a toothbrush and comb rested. Spotting the medkit finally, you grabbed it and, after washing your hands, stepped back into the room. 

Fox was emphatically vocalizing his irritation as he tried to take off his shirt. The fabric seemed elastic but his range of motion was limited. You rushed over, setting the medkit beside him and grabbing at the taut fabric caught halfway up his abdomen. You gently eased the sleeves off of his arms, one at a time, and then pulled the whole thing up over his head.

"Holy shit," you breathed, looking down across his torso. His shoulders and chest were pocked with dots that looked like burns. An enormous swath of skin across his left side, from his armpit down beyond his waistband, was deep red with fresh bruising.

"It's mostly my leg...," Fox mumbled, his voice shaky. 

"Well, lets see it," you nodded towards his hips. Even in this helpless state, you were afraid to cross the line of privacy.

Fox nodded, shifting his weight to pull down the waist of his lower bodysuit. He repositioned his hips and tugged the waistband of his bottoms down inch by inch, gradually revealing a pair of snug, black shorts beneath the clinging fabric. Once he had peeled the leggings halfway down his thighs, you reached down and helped him. As you slowly pulled, the material caught around his left knee. Fox jerked and cursed under his breath. You gently tugged at the fabric, trying to loosen it from different angles. It was wet and as you brought your fingers away, they were red. The cloth was soaked in his blood.

"It's a little bit...stuck," you leveled, hoping that your voice sounded calm, "Would you like me to cut it away? Or maybe loosen it with warm water? I could help you get to the shower-"

"-Just rip it off," Fox interjected, the words rushing out as if he didn't want to think about it too much.

"Are you sure? It might make the bleeding worse-"

"-Do it," Fox barked, closing his eyes.

You gathered all of your nerve, positioned yourself squarely, and pulled the fabric down hard. Fox cried out, a roar of agony that seemed amplified by the small space. Almost instantly, blood began to run down his calf . You quickly tugged the clothing down, freeing it from his feet.

"Lay down. On your stomach," you couldn't be bothered to hide the panic in your voice at the sight of so much blood. Fox leaned over, using both hands to ease himself onto the cot. You guided his hips to turn towards the cot as he struggled to bring his legs up behind him. All propriety was abandoned.

As his leg twisted, you took in the injury. Just above his knee, a gash longer than your hand had been cut deeply into his thigh. Skin, fat and muscle tissue was exposed in layers, weeping blood into the area. You fought the immediate urge to gag before bunching up the leggings that you had just helped him to remove and pressing them to the injury. You took a few deep breaths and noticed the rise and fall of Fox's back as he did the same. His head was buried in his crossed arms against the blanket, but after a while, he tilted his head to look at you. His eyes were alert, but beneath the dark smears covering his face, he was frighteningly pale.

"How does it look?" Fox asked gruffly. You lifted the bunched leggiy to take a better look. The area immediately filled with fresh blood and you covered it again.

"Deep," you grimaced.

"Could you... Take care of it? Please?" Fox nudged the medkit that sat on the corner of the bed.

"This is bad. You should really have a doctor take care of this-"

"But you are a doctor-"

"Not a medical doctor-," you retorted immediately but suddenly realized that, despite the desperate look in his eyes, Fox was smirking. Then, his smile turned somber.

"Please?" He asked again. You wanted to say no. You wanted to tell him that you were too squeamish for this and that he needed proper medical care. But his expression was so unguarded. So defenseless. So sincerely desperate.

You huffed with exasperation, then looked around the room for a good place to dump out the contents of the medkit. You reached over to move a pile of flimsi folders on the closest edge of the desk, but Fox shouted "no!"

"What? I need somewhere to unpack this," you snatched the medkit and waved it. 

"Just... Don't move anything. It's all... In a particular order...," Fox began, placing his palms down and lifting his chest, but then he winced and eased himself back down.

"Fine!" you snapped, looking around. The only surface not covered in Fox's things seemed to be the small chair at his desk. You pulled it over to the edge of the bed and carefully emptied out the medkit. Some of the contents you recognized, but some you didn't. There were vials with covered needles and packs of unfamiliar pills that rattled around. You also found a tube of bacta ointment, a variety of bandages, a familiar sedative that you had used many times on animals, and a bottle of the antiseptic. Fox watched you as you examined the supplies.

"anesthetic," he gritted through clenched teeth, "it's got... a syringe...." You fumbled through the supplies, plucking an item from the pile one with a promising label.

"This?!" You asked eagerly, holding up the unfamiliar vial. Fox nodded slightly, wincing. You clumsily assembled the injector and then turned to the injured leg. Shifting the filthy leggings back, you stabbed the needle into his thigh just above the injury, releasing some of the topical anesthetic with the plunger. Fox growled and tensed his entire body, but didn't pull away. Then you slipped the needle out and jabbed the syringe into the skin below the cut, delivering the remaining fluid. You pressed the leggings back over the area as blood pooled. With your free hand, you shuffled through the dressing options available from the medkit.

"I don't know if these are going to be enough." You shuffled through the sealed packs of bandages. "What you really need is stitches."

"Negative. Use the closure strips," Fox grumbled.

"Why won't you just go the medbay?" you asked with exasperation. There was a long pause before Fox answered.

"A lot of my men are in the medbay, " he almost whispered.

"So what?"

"I don't want them to see me like this."

"Seriously? That's what this is about?!" you scoffed, "You could be suffering from blood loss or shock. You could get an infection and die of sepsis. And for what? Just to protect your damn pride?!"

"It's not about PRIDE!" he shouted suddenly, slamming a fist into the mattress. He inhaled sharply, though you couldn't tell if it was from anger or the pain from exerting himself.

"Its to maintain their confidence in the chain of command," Fox spat, "They need to believe that their officers are competent. Otherwise, they will question orders and might put themselves at greater risk."

You huffed and shook your head, shifting your focus to Fox's leg. You pulled the crumpled fabric away gently to look at the rate of the bleeding.

"This is probably really unsanitary. Do you have anything clean I could use?" you asked.

"In the trunk," Fox nodded, his eyes darting to the foot of his bed where a large case sat. You walked over and tilted the lid up. It was packed tightly with items and though it was all orderly, the contents quickly devolved into a mess as you extricated a hand towel that was stowed beneath a tall stack of neatly folded clothing and linens. Returning to Fox's side, you switched the dirty pants for the towel, pressing gently into the wound. Fox groaned quietly but didn't protest. His blood soaked through the towel, but the flow seemed to be lessening. 

"You know, Fox," you started gently after a moment, "your men...they trust you. They respect you. And they also care about you." 

"All the more reason not to let them see me hurt," Fox responded. You considered his words as you pulled the bottle of antiseptic to the edge of the seat where the medical supplies were laid out. Continuing to press against the towel with one hand, you clumsily unscrewed the lid to the bottle with your other hand.

"I thought clone troopers were trained and prepared to deal with the gruesome realities of war," you commented softly.

"The men are trained to cope with their brothers dying," Fox agreed, "They're not prepared to cope with their leaders being weak."

"It's not weak to need help. It's human," you replied.

"Well, I'm not human, remember? Non sentient being," he shot back.

"I don't care about your classification on record," you replied honestly, "To me, you're just a man."

Without warning, you yanked away the towel and dumped the bottle of antiseptic onto the wound.

"AAAAAAAUURGH," Fox shrieked, his whole body recoiling from the sudden pain. Gradually, he settled, with his shouts dying down into whimpers.

"Sorry," you rushed to explain, "I had to do it before-"

"I know," Fox barked through gritted teeth. His whole body was tense, with the muscles on his back cutting prominent lines of definition. He was incredibly muscular, you observed without surprise. Strong and lean.

The frothing antiseptic was now mixing with the blood still oozing from Fox's leg. You wiped away the excess with a wad of gauze, then placed more gauze directly over the cut. Fox observed you closely, probably eager to avoid another painful surprise. You took long, deep breaths as you laid out the wound closure bandages, hoping to calm both you and Fox before you began the next step.

"This is going to hurt," you winced. Fox merely nodded, his eye locked onto you. As you lifted one of the bandages towards his leg, Fox inhaled deeply and held his breath.

You gently wiped the gauze away and stuck one end of the closure strip to his skin. Then quickly, before blood could return to the area, you squeezed the two side of the gash together and pressed the other side of the bandage across his torn flesh. Fox exhaled shakily. You held gauze to the seeping blood and grabbed another strip. The process repeated; wipe, stick, squeeze, stick. Each time Fox held his breath and shuddered. After six bandages, Fox was no longer lookin at you, his eyes clenched shut and his face contorted in pain. By the twelfth strip, his head was buried in his crossed arms, his shoulders heaving as though he might be sobbing.

You gathered fresh gauze and pressed it over the bandages, hoping that the adhesion would remain intact in spite of the fresh blood oozing out between each strip. As the gauze grew saturated, you tossed it on the floor where other sterile wrappers and used gauze littered the tile, and grabbed a fresh pad. You continued like this- applying pressure to staunch the bleeding, tossing saturated gauze to the floor and grabbing new gauze. You had no sense of how much time passed. It could have been minutes. It could have been an hour or more. You knelt there, watching the blood soak the white material at a slower and slower rate. You studied the room from there you knelt on the floor. You had initially noted how cluttered it was, but on further study you could appreciate the orderliness of it- piles of flimsi stacked neatly, and furniture angled carefully to make use of every inch of space. You tried not to linger too long on Fox, though you watched as his taut muscles gradually relaxed and the rise and fall of his breaths slowed. Just when you started to wonder if he had fallen asleep, he stirred slightly, turning his head to look at you. His half-lidded eyes peaked through strands of hair that now fell into his face, matted in wet clumps. He looked like an absolute pathetic mess, but somehow there was beauty in his features still-the way his prominent brow pinched as he squinted, the fullness of his lips and the sharp angle of his jaw. His cheeks were now splotchy and red, an improvement over the gaunt pallor of his complexion when you first began treating his injury.

"Is it still bleeding?" he asked, his voice low and hoarse.

"Yes, but not heavily. It's probably slow enough to be covered...," you trailed off, easing into motion as you removed the gauze from the wound. A few of the closure strips were already coming loose, but a hydrocolloidal bacta patch would help hold them in place and encourage healing. With a sigh, you shifted off of your sore knees to sit cross legged as you plucked the largest patch from the med supplies and began to unwrap its sterile covering. Fox pushed himself up, folding his arms beneath him to lift his chest off the bed, and twisted his back and neck to watch you. With a final swipe of clean gauze, you placed the patch, running your fingers from the center outwards to ensure a good seal. You patted his calf once, giving a small patronizing grin. 

"Be sure not to die now, okay? I'm afraid I could be held liable for failing to turn you over to the appropriate medical professionals." Fox let out a breathy laugh as you rose stiffly to your feet and started to gather the supplies from the medpack back into their container. Fox made a few low sounds of exertion, rolling onto his side, one arm bent beneath his head. He tugged the blanket free from the edge of the bed and pulled it across his lap, as if modesty were a sudden concern.

"Thank you. Could I ask you one more favor?" Fox muttered as you gathered and disposed of the bits of bloody gauze and bandage wrappers from around the bed.

"What's that?"

"Could you grab me the cleaning kit from the trunk? It's a little black case. Should be towards the left side." 

"uh, sure." you approached the trunk and began to rifle through it. You found a case and held it up for Fox to see. He nodded and gave a small smile.

"What do you need this for?" You asked, placing it on the bed beside Fox. He opened the container to reveal a bottle of cleaner, a jar of wax and a few wadded-up rags.

"Need clean my gear. I can't wear my armor looking like that...," Fox gestured towards his chest plate on the floor.

"I don't think you should be worrying about that right now. You should rest."

"Nah, I can't. I need to get back out there," Fox shifted back to his stomach, scooting awkwardly on his elbows and hip towards the edge of the bed. He stretched his hands out towards the nearest piece of armor, a red-painted vambrace, pinched the edge of it and pulled it up onto the bed with him.

"Aren't you exhausted?!"

"It's fine," Fox waved off your concern, his face set sternly. "I can take another stim."

"But your leg- you need to let it heal-"

"I don't have time!" Fox raised his voice, "The senate offices are in chaos, the civilian response forces need direction. I have to get back out there." 

Anger swelled within you. He wouldn't get proper treatment for his injury and now he wouldn't rest and let it heal. How could such a smart man be so self-destructively stubborn?! Fox focused on the piece of armor in his hands, oblivious to your frustration. He was scrubbing the surface hard with the cleanser to remove the caked-on blood and dirt, occasionally grimacing at his protesting muscles and ligaments. You looked around for any inspiration that could help you dissuade Fox from immediately returning to duty. Your eyes fell upon the medkit and a wicked idea popped into your head. 

"It's going to hurt a lot more once that local anesthetic wears off completely. Do you want a generalized pain killer?" You tried to keep your tone light. Fox sighed.

"That would be great. Thank you."

You dug into the medkit and furtively pulled out the sedative that you had spotted earlier. You prepped the syringe with your back to Fox and then looked over your shoulder. Fox was focused on the armor that he was scrubbing, making very slow progress. You approached quietly, then in a sudden rush, you jabbed the needle into Fox's neck and depressed the plunger.

"AUGH!," he howled, dropping the vambrace and grabbing your hand tightly in his fist. His grip was almost painful as he he pulled it in front of his eyes to examine the syringe still grasped in your fingers. "What the kriff?!" he yelled. "Why did you do that?!" He released your hand and turned on you with wild eyes.

"I'm sorry!" you shrieked, bringing your hands up, palms out, trying to placate him. "You need to rest. You need to stay here. I can't let you get back to work like this." Fox's angry expression softened as his eyes lost focus briefly. The sedative was already beginning to affect him.

"Damnit," he breathed. For a while, he stared at you, his expression softening from anger into melancholy.

"I'm sorry," you repeated, "but it's like you told me: don't push yourself too hard. You'll wear yourself out."

Fox nodded slowly, his eyes losing focus slightly. When he spoke, his voice sounded nothing like you had heard from him before. He sounded weak and small. Afraid.

"Stay with me? Make sure I... wake up?" he begged, his voice cracking at the final word. Deep pangs of sympathy erupted inside your chest.

"Of course," you brought your palm to his shoulder, rubbing it soothingly. Fox nodded slowly. It wasn't long before he slumped forward onto the bed, fully unconscious. You watched for a while as his breathing slowed, unsure what to do with the intense emotions battling within you.

You looked around for something to distract yourself. The medkit needed to be put away, so you organized it neatly then tucked it away in the fresher. Sitting in the chair, you eased the cleaning supplies away from Fox's hands and plucked up the vambrace that he had been trying to clean. You started to clean. It took a lot of force to scrub away the filth, but it was satisfying to see it gradually return to its usual color. Once it was clean, you grabbed another plate from the floor. Then another. For hours, you kept your hands busy so that you could ignore what was in you head and heart. You scrubbed and polished and wiped until every one of the armor plates was cleaned and neatly stacked in a pile beside the bed. Then, exhausted, you eyed Fox's bed. Shutting off the overhead light and flipping on a dim wall lamp beside the cot, you eased yourself to sit on the mattress beside Fox's feet, kicked off your boots and pulled your knees up to your chin.

The day had been overwhelming. Or perhaps "days" more accurately- you had no idea what time it was and no desire to find out. You were spent physically, from an entire night without sleep. You were also spent emotionally, from the anxiety of that creature's rampage across Coruscant and everything that had followed.

Tears began to spill from your eyes over the fear that you had tried to keep at arms length. Tears from the anxiety of playing nurse over Fox's gorey injury. Tears of guilt as you wrapped your mind around Fox's predicament. 

You hated that he seemed to care more for duty than self-preservation, his own sense of value boiled down to what he could do for others. He seemed to bear responsibility for the entire Coruscant guard and yet he had nobody looking out for him. It filled you with a compassion that swallowed up any grudges that you felt towards him. He had his faults, but at his core, Fox was brave and selfless. 

You leaned against the wall, still huddled upright, and drifted to sleep