Requests Are Open

  "Hey, what are you doing here all alone?" Fox tried his best to not look like a big, scary clone commander. He could tell his efforts weren't successful. In his defense, appear non-threatening in a full set of armor and a blaster strapped to your thigh was a pretty difficult task. The child didn't look scared of him, though. Quite the opposite.

  They didn't answer.

  "What's your name?" Fox tried instead. He wasn't good at guessing people's age but this child was at least five standard years old. Five years old nat-borns were old enough to know their name, right?

  The child muttered something Fox didn't quite catch.

  "Can you say it louder?"

  "I don't have a name."

  "You don't?" Now that was a situation Fox wasn't prepared for. As far as he knew, nat-borns were supposed to have names. According to everything he's ever read about nat-borns, parents usually named their child whie they were still a baby. They weren't like clones, who had to wait for when their batchmates picked them a name, usually based on something they did or something they liked.

  The little Zabrak nodded. After taking a closer look, Fox guessed they were most likely male but he wasn't certain.

  "Where are your parents?"

  "I don't know."

  "Alright. I will take you to my office now and we will find them."

  "No! I'm not supposed to find them."

  "What do you mean?" Nat-born children were supposed to love their parents, or at least Fox has always thought that. Because why wouldn't they? Nat-born parents weren't like the Kaminoans, emotionless and only caring about perfection. They weren't like the trainers, only trying to get the best results out of their trainees no matter what it cost. They weren't a genetic template who only wanted one son and money and didn't care about anyone else. No, parents were an entirely different thing. They loved their children, they protected their children and they provided for them. So why exactly wouldn't this nameless kid be supposed to find their parents?

  The child shrugged. "They left me here and told me not to follow them."

  Alright, that was weird. It almost sounded as if these parents wanted to get rid of their kid so they just left him alone on a random place on Coruscant? "Do you like your parents?"

  "No."

  "Why not?"

  "They are mean."

  So apparently parents could be mean. Fox supposed he was going to have to work with that. "And why did you come to me?"

  "Because you feel kind."

  "What?"

  "You feel kind," the kid repeated themselves. Fox had no idea what that was supposed to mean.

  "Okay. Now we will go to my office and get you something to eat, what do you say?" Fox hoped he was doing this right. He had no idea how to talk to children.

  "Okay."

  Bringing a child into the Coruscant Guard's headquarters was a big deal, apparently. Fox didn't do anything more than sit the kid in his office and give him a glass of water and some of the priced treats Fox sometimes got from the nicer senators that he liked to give shinies and his comrades in particularly bad situations. The only other food available were ration bars and that was no food for a child.

  Not that the kid was in need. Ever since Fox brought him in, troopers have been coming into his office, bringing the child treats that Fox didn't really know where they got from, makeshift toys or just to take a look.

  "Aww, he's so tiny!" Thire cooed upon seeing the kid.

  "Told you he's a cute little thing."

  "Shut up, Thorn. It's not my fault I had senate duty and couldn't come to look at him sooner."

  Fox made a show of covering the kids ears. 'Shut up' wasn't by far the worst thing that the troopers said and Fox usually didn't mind but there was a child in the room!

  "I never would have guessed that marshal commander I have a stick up my ass Fox would become such a buir." Thorn grinned at him. He seriously had to stop swearing around the child or else. And Fox shouls also probably get rightfully offended to save his reputation of having, as Thorn put it, a stick up his ass.

  "So that's how you address your commanding officers?"

  "Apparently."

  "You know, senator Clovis requested a bodyguard to accompany him to a meeting with banking clan..."

  "No. Not Clovis. Please. I beg you." Thorn seemed terrified. Any trooper would. Senator Clovis was always rather awful to clones and he was so suspicious the Corries had a betting pool on when he openly defected to the Seppies. 

  "Maybe if you will kindly stop swearing in front of a child, I might consider looking further, even if you certainly have all the required skills."

  "Yeah, sure. Anything. Just not Clovis."

  Fox decided to take that as a promise. The kid didn't seem to get what was going on but he wasn't complaining. A darling really.

  It was a few hours later that the boy started to get bored. Fox tried entertaining him with a holo movie but that didn't work, the child felt the need to share what was going on the screen every minute or so. So Fox downloaded him a video game. That seemed to work. Until now.

  "Do you really have to work?"

  "Yes."

  "Why do you have to work so much?"

  "Because I have things that need to be done and I have a certain amount of time for each of them. Like this form that I'm filling right now, this one needs to be done today," Fox did his best to explain. In his humble opinion, he was getting pretty good at answering the kid's curious questions.

  "Oh... Okay. And will you play with me when you're done?"

  "I will have some more work then but we can play when I'm done, okay?"

  "Okay."

  The kid was clearly trying to be quiet. He wasn't very good at it. He was either kicking into Fox's desk, opening random drawers and then always sighing in disappointment when there was nothing but stacks of paper work, or quietly humming to himself. It was distracting but Fox let it slide. He remembered how difficult it was for him and his batchmates to stay silent when they were cadets. The only thing keeping them quiet was their fear of the Kaminoans and the trainers and he didn't want this sweet little thing to ever experience something like that.

  "Fox?"

  "Yes, kiddo?"

  "Will you get angry if I make things float?"

  "What?"

  "If I make things float," the boy repeated himself.

  Fox wondered for a bit if floating had any other meaning than, well, floating. He didn't think of anything so he just assumed it was some kind of a game. "Of course I won't get angry."

  The child beamed at him. Then the boy reached out with his hand and made the data pad Fox borrowed him float.