#fswriting

Wolffe is already halfway out the door by the time Fox scrambles after him, barely catching his wrist to stop him leaving already.

“That’s not what I was trying to say Wolffe. I swear! It’s just, we need-“

“Shut up.” Wolffe snarls, snatching his arm out of Fox’s grip and spinning around. “I don’t want to hear it from you. I don’t care what you think you’ve been through, you know nothing about what it’s like to loose all the men under your command.”

“But-“ Fox isn’t allowed to finish his protest, isn’t allowed to beg even more for the help his men desperately need. Wolfe shoves him hard, Fox’s bad shoulder clipping the door frame causing his vision to gray out for a moment. By the time his vision returns to normal Wolffe is already gone.

Fox sinks to the ground and lets his head thunk back against the wall as tears start to well up in his eyes. He doesn’t need Wolffe, and he was foolish to think the Wolffe would be in a place to listen to Fox’s problems. Not with the Malevolent disaster so fresh. Still, he had to try. With how things are going he’s not sure how much longer the Guard can last without help.

The door slides open and Fox looks up hoping to see Wolffe, only for his stomach to drop when it’s Thorn who enters. He’s got his helmet clipped to his belt, so Fox can see the sympathetic look on his face as he sits down next to Fox.

“I heard the yelling, I’m guessing it didn’t go well?”

He’s kind enough not to say I told you so when Fox shakes his head. Fox knows that Stone will have less restraint when he finds out. Thorn doesn’t say anything, even when the tears Fox has been fighting spill over, running down his cheeks now that he’s got the comforting presence of his brother pressed into his side.

They sit there quietly as Fox mourns his once close relationship with his batch and despairs his helplessness to help his own men.

Fox’s comm rings out in the silence between them and he flinches when he opens it to find a summons from the Chancellor. Shit. Of course he doesn’t get even a few minutes to just sit and be miserable. The Guard doesn’t get nice things like that.

He knows better than to take too long so he quickly rubs away his tears and shoves on his helmet, only stopping to knock his shoulder against Thorn’s in a silent goodbye before heading towards the Chancellors office.

When he gets there he’s surprised to find a lack of Red Guards manning the door, leaving him a little unsure as he steps inside. Thankfully, the Chancellor waves him to stand at attention in his usual spot, standing just to the side of the ornate desk so that he can be forced to kneel at the Chancellor’s feet just as easily as he can be bent over it to receive lashings.

When the Chancellor gestures for him to remove his bucket he hesitates. He’s acutely aware of the appearance of his face right now. It will be impossible to hide that he was just crying, with how swollen and red his eyes are. But the Chancellor is not a patient man so after a brief moment Fox slides his helmet off and clips it to his belt.

They’re alone in the office Fox can’t help but notice, with unease building in his stomach. The feeling only grows worse when the Chancellor gives him a sympathetic smile. The Chancellor hasn’t bothered to use his mask around him in months, not since Fox discovered what he truly is.

“I saw your conversation with Commander Wolffe.”

Fox’s stomach drops, he doesn’t even bother asking how the Chancellor knows. Everything that happens in the senate building makes its way back to him eventually. Even most things outside of the building typically do.

Fox foolishly thought he wouldn’t be punished as long as he didn’t implicate the Chancellor to Wolffe. Clearly that belief was misplaced. Briefly he wonders if the Chancellor is simply going to kill him. Since there’s no Red Guard here to deliver a punishment that seems like the most likely course of action.

“I can offer you the support that the GAR refuses to.”

Fox is still processing the fact that he tried to reach out for help and instead got his hand bitten by the only people in the wretched universe that are supposed to care about him and the fact that the Chancellor seemingly knows about the whole thing. Given the circumstances he thinks he can be excused for his dumbfounded, “What?”

The Chancellor laughs. It’s not the cruel, twisted thing Fox is used to, but rather a truly amused little sound that Fox is unfamiliar with.

“I saw what happened when you tried to reach out for help from lesser beings. The evidence of how that went is all over your face.”

Self-consciously Fox scrubs a hand over his face but he knows that will do little to hide the evidence of his tears.

“They don’t have the resources to help you, even if they cared enough to try.” That stings and Fox can’t help his reflexive flinch but the Chancellor keeps talking. “I, however, have all the resources and power you could want.”

Fox wants to deny him, he’s loyal to the republic he would never knowingly work with a Sith. But. What has the republic done for him? All his loyalty has wrought him is dead little brothers and older brothers who apparently don’t care.

The Chancellor stands, ornate robes rasping across the floor as he move closer, clasping Fox’s shoulder. “I don’t make this offer lightly, and I will not make it again. So I urge you to consider what this could do for you. For your men.”

Fox tilts his chin up. “And if I wanted to kill Senators?”

The Chancellor laughs that strange new laugh again. “Senators are quite replaceable. In fact I think you’ll find my adversaries often find unfortunate ends.”

“Medical supplies?” He probes again, expecting more resistance this time when it’s something that could only help his brothers, not something that can be twisted to suit the Chancellor’s needs.

“My boy you’d have your pick of the Republic’s medical supplies.”

Fox swallows and thinks of holding Thorn down to keep him from thrashing while medics pulled shrapnel out of his stomach and hip. Thinks of the way he wished so desperately for painkillers while his younger brother screamed.

He knows his answer, the Chancellor must realize at the same time because a slow smile spreads across his face and his eyes seem to burn a molten gold.

“All I ask in return is your loyalty. And your willingness to do a few favors for me.”

Fox knows it won’t be that simple. But he thinks of Wolffe turning his back on him, of all his brothers in the GAR ignoring his pleas for help. He thinks of what this could do for the Guard, the ways this could make their lives better and he decides that whatever the price for dealing with a Sith is one he will happily pay.

“It’s okay, Thire.” Fox mutters tiredly into his folded arms. Behind him, all the noise cuts off for a second, and Fox is tempted to look over his shoulder to see Thire’s face and get a better judge of his reaction, but then gentle hands are on his wings again, so he stays carefully still.

“It’s not okay, Fox. It’s-” Thire trails off even as his fingers begin to smooth over Fox’s rust colored feathers, arranging them back into a slightly more natural order as he tries to come up with words for the torture that the Chancellor subjects Fox to.

Fox knows what he means. The clones grew up soaring through the skies and helping each other maintain their wings in the barracks. To have to deny something so fundamental to their experience is unheard of, even on Kamino where individuality is crushed under the heel of obedience.

Fox sighs again. “I know. But look,” and this time Fox sits up and turns around, pulling his vod’ika’s forehead against his own, “if I deal with it, if I don’t complain, he won’t make it a regulation for the entire Guard. I’d have to do it either way, at least this way you guys don’t have to suffer too.” Thire lets out a small wounded sound. It’s so quiet Fox wouldn’t have heard it if they weren’t pressed together like this. “I would do far worse than this to protect you, and I’d do it with a smile on my face.”

“You shouldn’t have to.”

Before Cody can decide on what to do, the Chancellor sweeps down the hallway, trailed as always by his red guards.

Cody jerks to attention, “Chancellor, sir.” Cody acknowledges with a sharp salute.

“At ease, Commander.” The Chancellor says. Cody settles into a parade rest, which he immediately breaks when Fox starts to struggle to his feet. He curses the karking dikut out in his head as he gently tries to keep Fox from hurting himself.

“CC-2224, stand down.” Fox mutters, shoving Cody’s hand away from himself even as he staggers when he takes his full weight onto his feet. Cody flinches at the use of his number but Fox is already turning his attention to the Chancellor.

“Your Excellency.” Fox says, voice more clear than it had been when they were talking earlier.

“Ah, Fox, just who I was looking for. I was concerned for you after your invaluable protection from those insurgents who tried to attack me.” The Chancellor says. Cody finds himself shocked by the real note of concern he can hear in his voice. The fact that the Chancellor of the entire Republic has gone out of his way to check on Fox makes Cody a little dizzy. Distantly he notices that Fox is still saluting, and his arm is starting to shake.

“Thank you for your consideration, your Excellency. I am returning to my medbay to receive treatment.” Fox assures.