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Fox sacrifices protecting his Guard to protect the Vode above all else.
Even if he has to hurt his own men. The ones who carried him through the war. Dishonoring the memory of the brothers who died under his command. He was going to do it. But still, saving the GAR from this particular fate instead of saving his own corps feelt like betrayal. He didn’t expect forgiveness in death. He didn’t deserve it.
Read on [AO3] or
Fox stared at the data pad. It had been over a thousand rotations on this planet called the Heart of the Republic and each one of them had felt like spiraling deeper into a void.
He had come to terms to never seeing an end to this war, to never receiving the support of the people they were created to guard, to be a face shared with millions of men so forgettable they never bothered to show it in their propaganda.
Fox always assumed he would march on with the knowledge he did everything in his powers - limited as they were - to create a current washing his brothers ashore when he would eventually drown. His lungs were already refusing to draw a deep breath with the realization that he would drag them to the bottom of the ocean with him.
There was no good or bad choice, only consequences someone would have to bear. The only way out for anyone was through. There was no time to craft a plan and wasn’t that ironic, the Marshal Commander with contingency plans for contingency plans had not prepared for this. He really didn’t deserve to lead the home front. His troops would turn it into a battle field.
He read the list of orders programmed into every code’s brain one last time before hitting an unassuming little button on the bottom right corner of the com. He just signed the Guard‘s death sentence.
── ⟢ ・⸝⸝
Quinlan Vos had come to know the Guard as an integral part of Coruscant‘s security forces. They had filled the gaps when more and more Jedi were called away to the war fronts which were spanning to the furthest corners of the Outer Rim. They had communicated with the Temple Guard dispute the Temple being out of their jurisdiction. They had tried to create and hold up a network of support.
It was obvious the clones cared about the natborns, about the force sensitive beings, about the stray tookas and massiffs inhabiting Coruscant. They cared about protecting civilians and did an outstanding job guarding those who saw themselves above them. The commanders were courteous, competent and closed off - by extension their troops were efficient but evasive when approached about internal matters.
Similarly Quinlan hadn‘t any place on the stage filled with too many actors trying to outshine eachother. As a Jedi shadow he didn’t show up to dissolve a conflict and save the day. Sometimes he even instigated it. But he had dug deeper into the scripts the wide audience was unaware of playing out in front of their eyes. He had build connections.
When he had first dropped into CC-1010‘s office unannounced and uninvited the man had shot at him with a blaster set to stun. Without the force and anticipating this kind of warm welcome from studying the Marshal Commander‘s demeanor in the field he was sure he wouldn’t have had a chance to get a word out.
Revealing his affiliation to the Jedi Order without detailing any of it further had turned a hostile greeting into a professional talk bargaining for information. Sharing intel and crafting contingency plans turned into begrudging respect. One day Quinlan brought food to their meetings and was rewarded with a name. And that had been the start of a tentative friendship. Now Quinlan was about to lose one of his only friends.
── ⟢ ・⸝⸝
Bly stared at the holo screen depicting a fight he couldn’t make any sense of. The images weren’t flickering because of a weak connection to the central signals of the GAR on their side, the transmissions had been cut from the side of the home front before they had been able to reestablish communications. The blackout had lasted less than half a rotation. How had this happened in such a short time frame?
His General had felt a disturbance through the bond shared with her Master shortly before the communication had cut. She had reached out to another Jedi Bly had not heard her mention once before. He was a bit taken aback watching the image of an older man with dark hair pulled into a low ponytails comforting a clearly agitated Aayla. She trusted this man and in turn accepted trusting the force was prevalent to anything. Bly couldn’t understand the force but he understood trust so he would follow Aayla‘s lead.
The man named Tholme encouraged her to follow its guidance instead of enacting a command from a war council. Bly wouldn’t agree but when the holos from Coruscant came to live on their displays Aayla had taken one look at them, one look at Bly frozen up in his place next to her and charted course to Triple Zero.
── ⟢ ・⸝⸝
Fox opens his eyes slowly, he wouldn’t consider this waking up because his mind hasn’t caught up with his surroundings. He hadn’t expected to be here. He hadn’t expected to be alive. The last thing in his muddled thoughts he can clearly name is cutting signals from Triple Zero just before his comm activated without him picking up.
He tries to listen to his heart beat sure it would rush the blood through his veins on high speed but it’s strangely hard to notice. A hand grips at his fore arm and when the fuck did he lose his vambrace? His head snaps towards the hand and it’s clear the person holding on to him isn’t one of his brothers. Still some kind of recognition sparks in heart and he drifts off once more.
── ⟢ ・⸝⸝
The moment they enter the orbit and descent to Coruscant air space the pressure feels unbearable. Bly starts drumming his fingers on his thigh plate eyes never leaving the view outside the ship‘s windows.
The Temple is belying little of the battle that had taken place on its grounds. There’s some rubble and stains on its warm stones but it doesn’t feel as monumental as it should. The Coruscant Guard had tried to storm it not even three rotations ago. The 327th was the first battalion to make it planetside after this betrayal.
Aayla projects a calm he’s sure she doesn’t feel. She had told him over a shared meal she knew Quinlan was alive but she still felt a sense of loss. He hadn’t know how to comfort her and he still didn’t. Her companionship always anchored him so he hopes he is at least able to return the favor now.
When they finally have their boots on the ground both of them rush into the Halls of Healing. Aayla all but runs to a cot tucked out of view and Bly stays close. First he registers the vod’s missing hand. Then he registers his gaunt build and it takes another second to register the red shine to the dark curls matted to the ashen skin.
Just as Aayla reaches out to the man slumped next to the cot Bly reaches out to his brother. He was alive. They hadn’t killed him for his treason to the Republic and the Jedi. His fingers clamp down on Fox‘s shoulder and he’s overcome with the urge to shake him awake.
Taking a deep breath he looks up to the pair on the opposite site of the cot and notices the Kiffar awake. The man smiles at Aayla in a way that makes him look more alive than any other of the few time the Marshal Commander had seen him. His long locks are tied back from his face and Bly spots a read bead in one of them. He would needle Fox for details later.
── ⟢ ・⸝⸝
On paper the vode had been lucky, the Republic had won. But many of the Guard had been killed during the attack of the Temple. And they couldn’t hate the Jedi for defending themselves. They could mourn the loss and harbor the guilt of being unable to cut the strings puppeting them. They could blame themselves and the Commander who had chosen to protect other vode above them.
Logically it made sense to prioritize the GAR. There were millions of vode deployed and only thousands of them planetside. The Jedi in the Temple had been warned by one of their Shadows. There simply hadn’t been enough time to destroy external and internal communications because this shouldn’t even be possible to begin with. Of course the Guard had direct contact to the Supreme Chancellor and cutting it would have alarmed him. The order had come too soon for Fox to warn his Commanders and troops.
A split decision had probably turned the Galaxy’s fate in their favor but they would never be able to follow Fox blindly again. Trust once broken can never be the same. Thorn had been the one who they turned to in their confusion. Thorn had been the one to hold them together even when Fox figured out a way to defend their crimes. They didn’t receive a death sentence for being stripped of their little autonomy and used as a weapon. Still Fox wasn’t their shield anymore.
Fox had never believed in making it through the war. He had never planned for a future. Thorn had always hold on to the thought of getting time to share his life with his closest brother. Now he let go of that hope. They had won the war but still lost each other.
Leaving the flimsi note on Fox bedside in the Halls of Healing Thorn walked away and never looked back. The Guard was his to protect now.
── ⟢ ・⸝⸝
„For old times sake sentiment, for the love I once held for you and the honor to once have been loved by you: I will cherish the time we had. And not resent the time we lost.“
Just trying to work through some emotions. I hope the alternating pov isn’t too confusing.
There are words for people losing their spouse or their parents. There's none for losing your siblings.
The easiest way to hide in plain sight and make sure people never look your way twice is to show them exactly what they expect to see, nipping any sprouts of curiosity at the bud. So Fox chose to make his Guard regulation perfect. Never step out of line, never step into the spotlight. Fade into the background and keep the system that’s designed to exploit and hurt everybody running.
Read on [AO3] or
By now everything felt cold. He couldn't remember when hot barely surpressed anger had turned into numbness and finally shifted into this sinking clawing feeling that extinguished any hope to redeem himself. What was the point of trying to change. They'd all die without anyone remembering their names anyways. But even in a world full of only wrong choices, not making any is the worst.
Guard HQ had been a lot of things over the course of the war: a cramped office, an understocked medical emergency hub, the place where Grizzer peed on an official flimsi demerit note, the centre to strategize about stretching rations, the walls where his vode felt protected enough to create a safe space, their personal hell of never ending shifts. Fox didn't want their last memories to be inside these dirty and crumbling durasteel walls, it mustn't turn into a mass grave.
Happy Fox Day to everyone who celebrates! Sadly didn’t manage to write in ages but wanted to post for 10/10, so have this unfinished drabble instead :)
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Cody is ready to move on after the war. Fox is still paralyzed.
Fox accepted voice only for the incoming comm after the twentyfourth ring. A familiar voice cracked to live without any preamble:
„You're avoiding me.“
„No, I'm not avoiding you. I just didn't check in for a while. We both do this from time to time.“
Read on [AO3] or
„We both do this when we are hurting. What is wrong?“
„Nothing is wrong. I just don't feel like talking to anyvod right now.“
„Is this about me spending most of my time with them? Do you think I don't care about you anymore?“
„Why do you always think everything is about you? You are not the 000 of my life!“
„Fox please, I'm just trying to understand. I know we don't talk about all aspects of our lifes but.. I'm so happy right now and I want to share this with you. I want you to be happy too.“
Cody's voice was soft. He obviously tried to tread carefully. Fox bristled anyways:
„I would appreciate if you stopped superimposing your feelings on me.“
His tone changing from neutral to biting as he raised his voice:
„Can't you just consider what I want for once in your life? What if I am happy for you but I don't want to be happy right now?“
„I don't understand.“
Fox took a deep breath.
„No you don't. You just found happiness. And if anyone deserves it it's you, Cody.“
Another small pause.
„I don't want to keep you from experiencing this to its fullest. I want you to grab this chance with both hands and hold on tight. But in order to do so you'll need to let go of my hand for now.“
Now it was Cody's voice rising in volume.
„What are you talking about Fox. I don't need to let go of you. You're not holding me back! Why can't I have both of you in my life? Why would you make me chose?“
Fox stared at the comm, eventually switching the holo transmission on:
„I think you misunderstood. I don't want you to chose between us, I don't want you to hold on to me right now. Please enjoy this new journey and focus on building your future. You'll experience the thrill of finding each other only once.“
He tried to meet his brother's eyes in the blue flickering to convey his sincerity. He knew he looked exhausted but he also knew Cody would feel better about seeing him unharmed otherwise. Cody still frowned at him.
„I can bear losing you only once.“ his brother pleaded under his breath.
„Cody, please.. I will find you when the speed and exhilaration of this first chapter winds down into a comfortable stroll. Please believe me. I will not get lost. Don't turn around and look for me. Focus on the path in front of you.“
Cody shook his head and leaned back from his comm, covering his face with his hands.
„Please just tell me why you cannot move on to a new chapter with us..“
Fox smiled sadly at his brother.
„I will be ready to move on when I catch up to you. Trust me to find my way home. Ret'urcye mhi.“
He cut the communication.
The war ended but Thorn still died in this scenario. Everything else is kinda open to your interpretation. Everything else is open to interpretation.
Just wanted to practice writing some dialogue. Turned a lot more personal than I intended but now I'm wondering if aspec people can relate to Fox here. So if this feels heavily ooc it's because I'm projecting
Oh I didn't plan this but Happy International Asexuality Day!
Maybe it's the lack of caf. Maybe it's the lack of sleep. Maybe it's the lack of positive thinking. Maybe it's the lack of reprieve from mind-numbing flimsiwork and speaking to less than friendly natborns. But by the stars Fox's head was about to explode by lack of alternative.
Read on [AO3] or
This wasn't something new or unexpected. His nights consisted of working through the datapads stacking up higher and higher in his already crammed office and his breaks were short and filled with trying to catch up on any non-urgent comms.
He was happy to read that Gree was still as fascinated as ever by any alien creature crossing his path. The holo he'd attached of an apparently non hostile plant with thorns bigger than a vod's arm swam before his eyes. He couldn't make out if Thorn had reacted to it yet, knowing he was probably still running Senate patrols after putting his foot down about Fox needing to "stay the kriff at base and stop aggravating hairline fractures before actually breaking something" he probably hadn't.
Fox groaned into his hands. He was tempted to put his bucket back on to turn on the temperature control and noise cancelling settings to maybe stop the piercing and throbbing sensation growing between his eyes. He knew it would only be a temporary reprieve and as soon as one of his men would catch sight of him they would sick their CMO Whiplash on him.
Sometimes he regretted not standing his ground against their medics' strict no-hiding-injuries-so-no-buckets-inside-base rule. Fox knew that he was very lucky they were stubborn bastards to match their commanders but force they were also just as unforgiving. Still - most times he recognized practicality and rationality in their guidelines.
So - no bucket to hide behind. Maybe he could justify another cup of caf though? Fox peered through his fingers and weighed risking Whiplash's wrath for overindulging in caffeine after just sweating a contraindicated bone mending substance out of his system. But honestly, his ankle was more than fine (Thorn needed to calm down) and it was as far away from his brain as any attached body part could be. Why should his brain not get a shot of its own healing substance?
If Fox had been any more lucid he'd maybe registered the footsteps nearing his office a lot sooner. As it was he just stared absentmindedly at the door swishing open to reveal Stone dressed in his blacks and lower armor. His oldest commander's expression was inscrutable as ever, his face set into a slight frown partly by choice and partly by lingering nerve damage.
"I see Thorn was right."
Fox couldn't hide how he flinched and hunched his shoulders, coiling into a tight ball of tension. Even Stone's smooth and level tone sent spikes of pain through his eardrums traveling over his temples right into the spot of agony on his forehead. He buried his head deeper into his hands again.
"Was gonna take a break."
His voice sounded small even to his own ears. He really did not want a lecture on how to take better care of himself from the person who seemed to be the most even keeled and stable vod ever decanted.
Stone wasn't cold in any sense of the word, so of course he cared enough to prioritize not aggravating the man somehow slumped and tensed at the same time. Fox knew he would but he still didn't anticipate warm hands gently settling over his own. When had Stone teleported to his desk?
"... come on. Just close your eyes."
Fox didn't have the presence of mind to even think about what Stone had probably said before. He didn't resist either when his ori'vod pried his hands from his face and pulled him up and over to the small couch basically molded into the wall behind his desk in one steady motion. The room spun around him but luckily he didn't have enough time to get nauseous before being sat down again.
Stone settled down beside Fox without letting go of him. He tucked him closer until Fox went down willingly, eyes closed, taking deep breaths and scrunching his nose in obvious malaise. Fox tried to turn on his right side to bury his nose in Stone's stomach but was stopped half way by warm hands settling on his clavicles. A displeased grunt escaped before he tried to squint against the too bright - oh Stone had actually dimmed the lights. How long ago had he entered Fox's office?
"Close your eyes."
Stone tutted again softly and Fox complied, bringing his hands close to Stone's, wanting to hold on but only brushing his vod's fingers clumsily. The warmth spreading to his chest and neck from the solid weight felt nice. Reading the cues Stone used his right hand to envelope both of Fox's and pressed them down onto his sternum. His left hand carded through Fox's disheveled locks a few times to disentangle any knots.
The pain still pulsed through his brain but the tension left his body completely. Stone put his thumb over Fox's eyebrow and stroked in a firm but gentle motion from the bridge of his nose to his temple, then over his eye and lastly over his cheekbone before repeating the motion on the opposite side. And oh this was nice. Even if they would have to get up and back to their duties in an hour or less. And he would have to go back to being the commanding officer. Right now he could just be a vod'ika enjoying comfort offered by one of his closest brothers. He was safe here.
Stone's gentle motions didn't stop, even as Fox slipped into blissful drowsy ignorance.
Yes this was inspired by having a major headache and therefore might still include some errors. Age order for the Corrie commanders: Stone - Fox - Thorn - Thire
Fox has one priority he never says out loud: I want someone I can call mine. Somebody to protect fiercely even while they eat me alive.
"You'll figure it out. You always do."
The dismissal stung, even if he had come to expect this response. Afterall his batchers had more urgent problems justifying requesting imminent input to figure out the best tactics of how to proceed their assignments. It was logical. He could handle it.
Read on [AO3] or
So Fox just nodded dismissively and everybody moved on to discuss a plan Neyo laid out. On his next campaign he planned to conceal his troops movements by touching down a considerable distance away from the mission's rendezvous point and advancing the last clicks by speeder bikes and with their boots in the dirt. Fox couldn't contribute any valuable input. It was impossible to gain experience in long distance travel and no urban stealth on Triple Zero. It was best to prioritize vode with field missions.
But Fox had never been anyone's priority. He'd been always an integral part of the vode present in this call, but he'd never been as close with anybody as Cody and Rex, Ponds and Bly, Neyo and Bacara, Gree and Monnk, Wolffe and Doom. He was nobody's first pick. It was ok. He could handle it.
There just was nothing casual or approachable about Fox. Everything about him was rather intense and he could never escape it. It had been both a blessing and a curse. Fox loved all his batchers equally and ferociously. When you are not fed love on a silver spoon, you ultimately learn to lick it off knives. He wasn't really sure they realized they always kept him on edge.
There hadn't been any surprises when Fox had been assigned the position of Marshal Commander of the Coruscant Guard without a General at his side. His skill profile painted a picture of an independent, self-sufficient and highly competent CC. Nobody thought it was necessary to offer additional inpit and support. It was fine. He could handle it.
Fox quickly learned that he didn't hold any sort of sole claim on hyper competency. Sure he was fast but actually.. Thire was faster. He's was strong like every CC but Thorn was definitely stronger. He's smart but honestly in the grand scheme of things Stone was even smarter. But one thing about Fox was being the most adaptable. He had an uncanny awareness of his surroundings and how to use them to his advantage. He was the best at turning any situation in his favor. He would take a shot nobody else even thought of and hit the bullseye. Every time.
Fox made sure that the Guard would always be his first priority. Even if they didn't have anything, they'd always have all of him. He began strategizing how minimize conflicts between a corps of highly trained clone troopers and highly volatile natborns. He made rules to protect his men. He enforced the rules. He followed protocol and regs and orders. He reported failure to the Chancellor. He They bore the consequences. His men didn't really understand. It was to be expected. He could handle it.
As the war dragged on he quickly stopped asking his GAR batchers for input. They couldn't prioritize simple riot control strategics over life or death front line assaults, but quite frankly they seldomly paid enough attention to the very different mission parameters on Coruscant anyways. They still needed his expertise in urban warfare and navigating civil conflicts from time to time. He didn't skip any comm meeting if he could make the time.
── ⟢ ・⸝⸝
Staying close to someone is a conscious choice after the circumstances that kept you together on a day to day basis for years change permanently. Staying present in each other lives takes a lot of effort and prioritizing the time spent together.
Fox had missed the fourth officially scheduled meeting in a row. He was stretched too thin between his official duties and his off the record efforts to keep the natborns who could hurt his men satisfied to not do so. He hadn't slept anywhere close to four hours a cycle in the last two ten days. He needed more time to dig up a allegedly purifying stone from the Outer Rim a Senator had requested on a whim. He needed more time to fix the latest patrol routes after the destruction left behind by a particularly violent riot still visible all around the mid and lower levels. He needed more time to write his reports to the Chancellor to maybe have a slight chance to request an additional supply of bacta for the men injured during the riot. He needed more time to figure out if there were any task he could entrust to his commanders without endangering them unnecessarily. He needed more time to heal from the head injury he had sustained when the Chancellor had been furious about his guard troopers shown on holo news exposing their incompetence to eben handle a small riot. He badly wanted to prioritize his vode. It was impossible. He couldn't handle it.
── ⟢ ・⸝⸝
They had been watching the reports from the home front. It was weird to see non military recordings of the Corries containing a riot of unprecedented scale in the narrowest levels of durasteel buildings. The strategy had worked but the cost had been high, the news focused on heavy damage to the urban infrastructure because there hadn't been many injured natborns. Cody focused on the high injury rate among the vode. They just hadn't had enou men power and apparently some equipment hadn't been updated to the official GAR standard. He looked at the holograms of grim faces mirroring his complicated feelings.
"We didn't know. I think we all were trying to encourage him he was the most capable to handle the home front. Fox never wanted our help.. I didn't realize he was asking for our support over and over again with just listing mission parameters. And I don't know how to fix this. But I want to suggest contacting Fox again. Even if he doesn't have time my vote is to prioritize trying to gather more intel on how to support the Guard."
I think I've never been anybody's best friend but my friends are still really awesome. It's ok. I can handle it and so can you!
Posting drabbles to AO3 feels like trying to pin a stick figure painting next to The Fallen Angel
Work is super exhausting rn and I seriously can't wait for March and April to end. Constant headaches don't help.
I need to make more time for social interacting but I'm really not feeling it. Been isolating myself a lot but my friends are also super busy.
Really need to find time to get some appropriate funeral attire
Started playing Nier: Automata for the first time. So far I finished route A, interesting story and characters. I hope additional playthroughs make it easier to finish sidequest because I missed a good chunk of them
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Fox had always been hyper aware of the vode's co-dependency - maybe that's why back on Kamino he was the hardest to adopt into the tight-knit batch
Thorn was starting to worry. Scratch that, by now phantom ants were crawling up his arms and across his back because he had been concerned since the notification pinging on his comm during late meal. The feeling hadn't eased throughout his night shift but had kept intensifying over the course of the morning hours instead. Bucket jammed between his skid plate and the reception desk at Guard HQ he absent-mindedly kept twirling the end of his braid between gloved fingers.
Read on [AO3] or
Fox still had to return from his current mission and of course he hadn't bothered putting any details of what he was doing on their internal records. Three rotations of no contact had passed. That wasn't exactly why Thorn was worried, but it definitely contributed to the growing restlessness spreading inside his chest when glancing at the chrono. Why the kriff did the 104th and 327th both have to return to Coruscant now of all times.
The sound of heavy footsteps approaching his current position had Thorn stop his fidgeting and snapping upright. He caught his bucket before it could clatter to the floor and quickly sealed it over his head, effectively hiding his long non regulation locks from view.
── ⟢ ・⸝⸝
Wolffe hurried to the Guard HQ. Bly was hot on his heels and only let his hard grip on Wolffe's rerebrace to try to get him to slow down slip when they were in sight and earshot of the local troopers in red and white armor patroling the entrance. But Wolffe was stubborn and angry and right now he needed answers from a brother even more stubborn and less communicative than himself.
It had been kriffing close to half a cycle since Fox had bothered to pick up one of his calls. Even longer since he had seen his face or heard his voice without the filter of a vocoder. Entering the reception area of the Guard HQ Wolffe zeroed in on the commander with wings painted on his bucket present. His steps faltered abruptly.
── ⟢ ・⸝⸝
Thorn watched Commander Wolffe approaching in full kit, setting a determined pace but suddenly stopping dead in his tracks at the sight of him. Marshal Commander Bly, who had been following closely behind the man, narrowly avoided colliding into his back by sidestepping somehow elegantly and standing next to his brother in grey armor looking like he had planned to move there.
The Marshal Commander wasn't wearing his bucket so Thorn was free to study the man's face for the first time. He registered dark circles stretching under alert eyes seemingly dimming the golden shine of blocky tattoos stretching across his cheeks. He looked just as exhausted as every CMC Thorn had ever met, even though it didn't show in his posture at all. Thorn went for introductions.
── ⟢ ・⸝⸝
Wolffe watched the vod who had introduced himself as Commander Thorn approach but couldn't look up from the charm pinned on the local commander's utility belt. The closer the Corrie got the more his stomach dropped: that was the one charm he had managed to gift to Fox during their second year on Kamino.
Fox, who had never given one to him in return. Not to him or anyone else in their batch for that matter. Fox who apparently was now evading him when they were on the same planet for once. He ripped his helmet off letting it fall to the ground carelessly, snapping his furious gaze onto the offending visor of the Corrie.
── ⟢ ・⸝⸝
Thorn flinched inwardly at the abrupt motion of Wolffe removing his bucket and the loud thonk when it clattered to the ground. His natural eye seemed even colder than its cybernetic counterpart.
Two things happened at once: he registered Commander Bly cursing under his breath as a priority message popped up at the corner of his HUD. Since standard procedure demanded them to open specific codes like these immediately the Corries' slicers had gone ahead and programmed all internal systems to open them unprompted.
What wasn't standard was how the automated action activated a visor setting. One usually reserved for recon on the lowest levels. Had someone just sent him a karking virus to mess with his HUD filters? Irritated Thorn tried to turn all options back to standard, already drafting a message to data security when his eyes refocused on Commander Wolffe still fuming. And on the name written on the armor invisible to the world unless watched through a visor.
Thorn's gonna kill Fox for not telling him his feral brother had no qualms punching first and talking later. And also for not telling Thorn he was someone else's to protect.
── ⟢ ・⸝⸝
Bly watched in shock how Wolffe advanced to throw a punch at Thorn who in turn seemed to had frozen on the spot. He somehow still managed to duck the furious swing aimed at his shoulder without landing on his shebs.
„Leshok?“ [1]
Thorn's voice sounded strained to Bly's ears. But it was Wolffe who didn't even get any words out and just openly gaped at the other man.
„Commander why are you wearing my code on your armor..?"
Bly stepped in when the silence stretched.
„Your code? What do you mean?“
„That's how Fox adopted me into his circle after we almost got killed.. He gave me a code and..“
Thorn's bucket tilted down as Wolffe found his words to whisper a soft:
„Fox called me that on Kamino instead of returning a charm..“
Bly felt the dread creeping up his spine and abruptly decided the floor looked like a good place to sit. His two vod'ike scrambled to catch him.
„Who else is in your circle..?“
── ⟢ ・⸝⸝
The vode had always swapped charms between brothers who felt especially close. Only Fox had given the amulets his batchers gifted him on Kamino to the people who had breathed death but survived. The ones who miraculously came back to him time after time, unlike the batch that was scattered among the stars, always shining out of reach. The stars he pleaded to to keep them safe.
Fox had claimed his brothers in a subtle way. He hadn't gifted them anything to hold on to, but something to make their own. He made sure to give them someone they could actually safe and protect.
He wanted to tell the stars to keep his guard safe. Cause he won't be around to do so much longer.
── ⟢ ・⸝⸝
tw implied jumping off roof
Fox watched the artificial sun set above the horizon while he hit send on a seemingly empty priority message. Distributing the HUD setting he had kept exclusively to himself for years felt freeing. Finally his brother would be able to see the world through his eyes.
He had prepared for this day ever since he was sure they would be fine to go on without him. Not that he hadn't tried to fight the sickness eating away his memories and sanity. But there was no use. Nothing would safe him from Kamino when his failure affected the Senate.
Clutching Pond's little charm to his chest Fox stared at the stars appearing in the sky. Ready to take a step into nothing but free fall.
„Ni trikari gar ru'pare.“ [2]
The final act of love is letting go.
[1] practice target
[2] „I'm sorry that you had to wait.“
Not sure how well alternating the POV worked out, but this kinda ran away from me as a whole. Wanted to lean more into comfort but hurt clearly won this round. It is what it is. *hits post*
Fox struggles with the feeling everything is sliding through his fingers, he doesn't know how to hold on
When it rains it pours. But you can only reflect upon calm water. If you're caught in the endless motions of ebb and flow you'll eventually miss the storm brewing right in front of your eyes. Sometimes there's no earthquake or explosion to explain the tsunami destroying everything in its path.
Read on [AO3] or
Fox had descended to one of the lowest levels on Coruscant. Unbeknown to many there was more to see and smell than durasteel constructions and stale air, than heaps of waste and the illegal housing of the poorest inhabitants on the richest planet in the galaxy. He'd discovered this unlikely place not listed in any of the extensive maps issued by the CSF early into his deployment.
The first time he'd stumbled across said placr he had been exhausted to the core and just wondered briefly if he was hallucinating. So Fox had marked the location on his personal nav and left to the higher levels to maybe for once check into the medbay before going back to his office to make sure he wasn't concussed or drugged. He hadn't spared much thought to it after that.
But once the marker had popped up on his HUD during another track down to the lowest levels he'd taken the detour. Just to be sure. And there it was: Neon lights dancing across the massive glittery surface resembling a star map reflected on the endless oceans of Kamino. It was almost peaceful.
With his bucket clipped to his belt Fox stares out over a sea locked inside an artificial cavern made out of durasteel and definitely some kind of force osik. There's a pier leading further into the water body, but no boat. He can't see to the other side and he's not sure how to get there for other levels either.
So he just stands at the shore and takes a deep breath in the strangely clean air. There's no one around just like the other times he had been here. It's grounding but it's also devastating how his always logical and coherent thoughts start to spiral in an open space. Why does his mind think it's safe to spill over here?
You cannot go home. There is nowhere to return to. The memory of the family you were able to hold on to slips through your fingers. It's a futile attempt to hold water in ones hands. Water is rarely still, it will find the slightest hairline crack to run through and take its time to tear any weakness apart into a wide gap making you spill all your emotions. Ripping all your hope from its anchors and just washing it away in its steady stream. Water is sacred. Water is life. Water is purification. Water is death. Water is rebirth. You cannot wash away your sins. You cannot go home.
Fox is the one with a stationary assignment and still it's his men drifting away from their brothers out in the galaxy. It's the men entrusted to his leadership and protection who suffer on an easy posting. Was there nobody more capable who would actually be able to save more of them from unnecessary harm?
Is death the moment drowning feels like you are breathing under water? If you could paint the sky, would all the stars shine a bloody red?
Fox opens one of the pouches on his belt. He tugs off his gloves and strokes his thumb over the scratched piece of plastoid. It's a piece of a bucket he'd never worn. He knows it once held a whole phrase, but he can barely make out what letters were painted on this part. It's one of the most valuable things he ever held in his hands. But it's time to let it rest.
Fox doesn't think he will ever explore space like the brother he lost to it. Bringing the plastoid close to his forehead wishing he could hold the other in a keldable one more time Fox kneels down on the pier. He lowers his hand towards the glimmering mirror and lets the piece slide from his grasp, whispering the phrase into the silence of the calm atmosphere:
"Some guys have all the luck."
Written for @foxmoonevent2025 Day 2 using the prompt SPACE listening to BLACK OUT DAYS BY PHANTOGRAM.
Do we think clones loved or hated the ocean? Is it safety and a warped sense of home or is it a reminder of being lost in a universe with no place to return to? Are there funeral rites? Is water sacred to some of them? What do their remembrances say? In case you don't know: The phrase is written on the back of Ponds helmet. And no we don't know how Fox got his hands on a piece after his death.
Also please excuse my mind vomiting, I've been to one to many funerals recently and grief is something I always associated with waves and the ocean with comfort
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