#gfge2023

How did it come to this?

You were crouched like a frightened animal in the middle of a dingy alley, waiting for the world to come crashing down on you as you watched a group of teens pass you by. The child that huddled beside you was similarly affected, the quiver in their fingers so pronounced you could feel it in your heart!

Twenty hours ago they’d been chattering to their creche mates, sharing a colorful story about their idol, but now? There was no telling what their future held, the golden light of a prosperous knighthood shattered by the very people you’d trusted with your lives. Stars, you still can’t believe what you’d seen earlier that night! The terror on the crechling’s face potent beyond belief as they raced toward you, chased like prey by a trooper in guard red.

There had been no time for ‘why’ or ‘what’, no time to wonder why an honorable man had turned into a monster, no, all you’d had time for was an instinctual reaction, your finger pulling the trigger before you even realized you had a blaster in hand.

The offending weapon was still held in your hand, the cold metal accusatory as you listened to far off chatter. Most people were talking about the end of the war, their voices chirpy as they discussed what this would mean for their businesses. Others were talking about the attack on the temple, the amber glow still evident on the horizon some five hours later. But the thing you expected to hear was absent, your guilt festering as you ushered the child in the direction of the space port.

“Where will we go?”

To be honest you didn’t know, the path was checked before you crossed the next intersection. As big as Coruscant was there was no hiding from the eyes of the Guard. You should know! You’d spent too many days being surprised by your gruff partner, his eyes alight with mischief as he appeared from around a corner with a caff in hand. A small part of you hoped to see him waiting for you at the port, his serious lips curled in a rare show of concern as he waved you to a waiting transport whilst the other - it feared it. The memory of his rabid brother making your blood run cold as you used your cowl to hide your face from casual onlookers.

“Anywhere that isn’t here.”

Dantooine perhaps? It had always been welcoming to offworlders, its senator one of many that had fought for clone rights, and you could easily see it turning a blind eye to ‘refugees’ such as yourselves. What about Pantora? It too was represented by a vocal proponent of clone rights, your heart aching as you thought of the sisterly bond you shared with Riyo. She’d been the one who’d encouraged you to pursue Fox, her lips curled in a beatific smile as she shoved a canteen of caff in your hands. She’d also been the one who’d encouraged you to keep trying when he turned you down, her insistence that he was just playing hard to get making you laugh as you watched him inspect his men.

You’d pay anything to hear that laugh round about now, a quick glance at the space port revealing limited options for your escape.

Whatever was going on had been labeled as a terrorist threat, the luminescent glow of red text filling the waiting area below the departures holo. Sentients moved too and fro across the glimmering plaza, but there was nowhere near as many people as you’d see on a normal day - the PA cycling through yet another announcement that all citizens must shelter in place until further notice. Which was a problem. How were you supposed to get off planet if there were no commercial flights running? You frowned as you considered your next move, your panicked heart beating all the faster as you covered your fearful ward with your coat.

“What now?”

“If you were smart you’d turn yourselves in.”

The world comes to a halt as the familiar voice encircles your mind, the smooth accent as charming as ever despite the edge of malice.

“You and I both know we wouldn’t get a fair trial.”

You’ve caught him in an impasse, the silent tilt of his helmet as much a language as the one you spoke every day. Stars! What had he done with his paintwork? The scarlet red that once adorned his plates now swapped for standard guard livery, and you mused that you wouldn’t have known you were speaking to Fox if you weren't so familiar with his body language. He always held himself with the utmost pride, his back ramrod straight and shoulders pulled back whether or not he was at ease, and you could still see that pride in him despite the tension that hardened his voice.

“This isn’t the republic any more. I will make sure the judge shows you leniency if you cooperate and hand over the traitor.”

You tuck the youngster behind you, keeping one hand on their head whilst the other shook uncontrollably by your side. Where was the Fox who’d slam his hands on the table if a nat-born insisted on the arrest of a minor? Where was the Fox who’d bailed them out if he found one in the cells? He was gone. Swept away by the same madness that’d caused his brother to chase the youngling through the streets.

“Traitor? Kark’s sake Fox, they’re just a kid! Where’s your compassion gone all of a sudden?”

Your outburst had gathered quite the crowd, but you didn’t care! This was, perhaps, your only hope of escaping. The brief hope that you could break through this murderous insanity fluttering like a bird in your chest.

“Where was his when his order turned its back on democracy?”

The feeling shatters as you feel a blaster pressed to your back, the weapon that’d once protected you from escaped ‘pets’ now used to herd you like one. You flash Fox a baleful look as you pass him by, the shine of your eyes reflected by the black abyss of his visor. It used to be something that filled you with warmth, the knowledge that he was looking at you with soft eyes making your spirit soar, but now? There was nothing but cold nothingness, the dark abyss swallowing you whole as you tried to make sense of his words. 

 “What?”

“Don’t play dumb, you know exactly what I’m talking about.”

The way he was acting now? It was the way the public saw him on the daily. Cold. Ruthless. A cop who’d stop at nothing to catch the bad guy. Even you had assumed things about him when you first met him, his gruff persona and matter of fact words making you wonder how his brothers could stand him. But with each day that passed you saw more of the real Fox. The Fox that would stay up late so his younger vode wouldn't have to file flimsi. The Fox that brought a caff machine when the GAR refused funding for a new one. The Fox that would do anything and everything to protect his vode from the wrath of idle politicians.

He was so much more than what people assumed him to be, so much more than the monster that told his men he’d deal with you personally, and you grieved for your loss as they bundled you and the kid into the back of a transport.

You can still hear the sounds of coruscant through the hull of the transport, the white and red of Fox’s armor broken up by the thick mesh that separated you. You couldn’t count the number of times you’d seen him bundle a struggling criminal into one of these things, couldn’t count the number of times you’d heard them beg for leniency, and you hated that you’d become another statistic - your palms laid to the mesh as you flushed yourself to the unforgiving metal.

"Please Fox, this isn’t you! You give pieces of yourself to people but never let them see the whole picture. I've seen it. I know who you are"

“No -- you don’t!”

The pause is brief, a slight inhale of air that causes his modulator to crackle in protest.

“Yes I do! I don’t know what offense his order has committed against the republic, but you wouldn’t arrest a minor for it!”

You tilt your head toward your charge, their small form tucked into the furthest corner of the space. It was almost as if they hoped it would swallow them whole, the curve of their shoulders laden with fearful acceptance.

“I have my orders”

“Orders? Force alive! You might be a Commander, but you’ve never cared for orders - especially if they came from that di’kut’la Chancellor.”

His shoulders stiffened, giving you the answer to where this particular order had come from. Maker! If this had come from the chancellor then there was no hope for you. You’d be dead and buried before the end of the week - a footnote in the grand annals of history whilst the Chancellor continued to feed at the trough.

“This order came from him? Didn’t it --”

You trial off as you tip your head backward, the strain causing the muscles at the back of your neck to twitch in protest. You don’t know what to say, what to do, the world as you’d once known it twisted beyond all recognition.

“Fox. We both know he’s as corrupt as they come! Just look at what he did to Fives --”

“Shut up!”

“No! I won’t! Not until you’ve seen sense!”

You hate yourself for digging up this particular ghost, but it’s the only way to get through to him!

“Where is the chip he supposedly presented to the Chancellor? And what about Tup? What about his autopsy report? Surely you find it a bit suspicious that they found nothing wrong with a man who shot his general in the back of the head? And what evidence does he have that the Jedi turned on the Republic? Think Fox, think! The man clearly has some kind of hidden agenda!”

What that might be was beyond you. You were a civilian, not a detective! You exhaled as you dropped your chin to your chest, the tension that sat in your shoulders mirrored in his spotless plastoid. You could always tell when he was at war with himself, could always tell when his Kaminoan training clashed with his Coruscanti heart. He’d go silent and stiff, his whole body vibrating whilst he tried his best to silence the voices. Sometimes he won, sometimes he didn’t, but he’d always be your Fox regardless - the quiver of his voice rekindling lost hope.

“He -- said ---”

The transport shifted beneath you, the change in gravitational pull lifting your stomach to your throat.

“-- Kriff -- we don’t have much time --”

Whatever madness had assaulted him had loosened its grip on his mind, the spectre of it hanging about his shoulders as he cut ties with the outside world. The transponder, the coms! Everything! He turned them all off one by one, the routine so ingrained he could do it with his eyes closed. Maker! He can feel the weight of your gaze on the back of his head. It was a tangible thing that anchored him to reality, like the steel he held in his hands, the yoke held tight as he bundled the voices into the back of his mind. 

Good soldiers might follow orders, but great ones questioned them!

Maker! He still can’t believe he’d pulled a blaster on you and the kid, still can’t believe how close he’d come to repeating the one mistake he’d never forget. Fives’ face swam in and out of his thoughts as he darted into a busy sky lane - doing his best to put distance between himself and his brothers. It wouldn’t be long until they realized he’d gone rogue. Wouldn’t be long until they were pursuing him like the criminals they’d once fought on the streets, and he needed to be off the capitol before that happened! 

But was this not worth it?

Yes, yes it was! The weight of your arms, and the scent of your body lotion filling his nose the moment he freed you from your confines. He’d go to any lengths to save you from the empire, his conviction growing stronger with every moment that passed. And if he had to save you from himself? Well, he’d do that too - the worry that the madness might return haunting his dreams that night and every night after.