My Vengeance, My Dream

“You will be at the heart of it Fox, I see it now.”

CC-1010 wasn’t entirely upset with his posting on Coruscant. Somehow he knew ever since Prime had said those words to him, that his position would be something different. It made sense, Coruscant was going to be the heart of the war. 

But he had to admit, he hadn’t been expecting him. 

“When you reach your posting, you’ll meet them.”

Those were the words Prime had said to him. CC-1010 hadn’t thought much of them at the time. Now, they were screaming through his head. 

Chancellor Palpatine was not a particularly imposing man. He had a leaner stature and was only slightly taller than CC-1010. His blond hair was beginning to become wispy and his posture spoke of someone who had never done any kind of manual labor in their life. His eyes were a light blue, his voice was a pleasant drawl, full of terms of endearment and kind tones. 

But as always, one glance was all CC-1010 needed.

His leaner stature had a strength hidden in it. His relaxed posture had a tiny forced aspect to it. His eyes constantly had a sharp, calculating look in them, but it was truly his voice that gave him away. 

The Chancellor’s voice was a pleasant, almost gentle purr. But CC-1010 could hear the way it tightened at times, he could hear the underlying tension, he could hear the falseness in what he was saying. After all, he was used to the fake concerned voices the kaminiise used when they got hurt.

Chancellor Palpatine was hiding something, and CC-1010 was certain he was related to Prime’s gra’tua in some way. The question then was: was he an obstacle or a help?

There was something in the Chancellor’s gaze that answered that question clearly, but CC-1010 pushed it to the back of his mind. 

“Commander,” Palpatine spoke softly, “I must say I was exceptionally glad to hear that you would be heading security on Coruscant. News of your actions on Geonosis has spread quickly.”

The Chancellor’s office was on the top floor of the senate building. It overlooked many of the buildings on Coruscant. CC-1010 thought it was fitting, the Chancellor sat above the people of the Republic. 

The walls and floor were draped in reds and it was, without a doubt, the fanciest room CC-1010 had ever been in. He stood stiffly in front of the Chancellor’s desk at standard attention. 

“Thank you sir. I look forward to serving you,” he replied and when he did, he felt something in his mind. It was like a firm pressure—no— how could he ever think it was a firm pressure? It was a blinding pressure,—no wait— it was light, almost pleasant—

His head ached and he fought the urge to rest it against his head. He was a soldier. A little headache wasn’t enough to break him. He stood at perfect standard attention with his head up and his mental shields locked down tight. 

The Chancellor smiled, CC-1010 was sure that to most people it looked perfectly natural but he could see it for what it was. It was almost saccharine, sick, and twisted. 

“Do you have a name Commander? I would hate to deny you your individuality, I know how much it must mean to you,” Chancellor Palpatine’s words on the surface were perfectly friendly but the twist in his lips and the coldness in his eyes told a different story. He was reminding CC-1010 of his place. 

“My number is CC-1010 sir,” he said clearly though that pressure on his mind built up again. He refused to break, just like he had with Prime before. The pressure… it wasn’t natural. It didn’t feel like any headache or migraines he had had before. He and the Chancellor were the only ones in the room. 

Which only left one conclusion, the Chancellor was doing it somehow. Prime had told him how the Jedi could break into his mind and sense his emotions if he didn’t learn how to shield. Was this the same thing?

That was something he would have to look into later. Right now, he had another task in front of him: appeasing an egomaniac. CC-1010 studied the way the Chancellor’s eyes seemed to gleam when he looked down on him. The Chancellor liked having others under his control. He liked power, the fact that he had stayed in office for so long was a testament to that. He liked his fancy room and nice clothes and the fact that he looked down on his ‘subjects.’

He liked having a new toy to play with. 

CC-1010 took a deep breath, “My individuality is not an issue you will have to deal with, I can assure you my lord.”

Chancellor Palpatine’s eyes widened in surprise before finally gaining an approving sheen. CC-1010 fought the urge to relax at the sight. He wasn’t safe, not quite yet but it did appear that he had done the right thing. The pressure on his head began to relax.

Palpatine chuckled and it was a dark, disgusting thing that made the hairs on the back of CC-1010’s neck stand up. 

“They did say you were a clever one Commander,” his eyes seemed to gleam an odd color, “You’ll do nicely. I look forward to working with you.”

CC-1010 wasn’t looking forward to it. He wasn’t looking forward to it all. There was a coldness that seemed to sink into his skin, as if the air around him had turned to ice. Something in the back of his head screamed at him to run and hide and never look at the Chancellor in the eyes again.  

He did neither of those things. He stood straight like a good soldier. 

After all, what good was a CC unit that ran from its owner?

His new home was the Republic’s military base not far from the Senate. The venator docking point sat behind it as well as the rest of the military ship yard. It was painted a sleek, black militaristic color that he had never seen before. 

CC-1010 wondered if Lucky would have like the color. The thought made a strange lump rise in the back of his throat. 

The walk up to base was devoid of anything unique besides a flag with the symbol of the Republic. He glanced over at the empty space. It would no doubt be full of ships and equipment soon, but maybe…maybe he could do something else as well. Already thoughts were forming in his mind. 

He pushed them away for now and instead followed the instructions he was given inside the base to where his office would be. If one word could be used to describe his new home, it would be utilitarian. 

CC-1010 made his way through the winding corridors until he reached his destination. The office was small, with a desk facing the door and grey walls. Utilitarian. 

“Commander!” A voice came from behind him. 

CC-1010 turned and he felt his lips lift under his helmet, “Thorn, you were stationed here too?”

Thorn had his helmet off and a wide smile broke out on his face, “Yeah, everyone under your command at Geonosis received orders to follow you here.”

CC-1010 felt his smile fade. Everyone had followed him. Everyone except Lucky and Group B and all the others that had perished on that horrible day. Would they still trust him to lead them? Would they trust his command? He wasn’t sure if he trusted it himself…

Thorn leaned against the wall and crossed his arms, “They’re calling you the hero of Geonosis. All of us under your command are receiving honors.”

His heart ached. ‘Heroic,’ sure. 

“You don’t sound impressed,” CC-1010 said as he looked away to continue inspecting the office. 

Thorn shrugged, “All I did was follow your orders. If that wins me the favor of the Republic, I guess I can keep doing it.” His voice was teasing. 

CC-1010 huffed, “Well, what if my next orders are to for you to desert and find a better fate?” 

Thorn laughed out loud, “Alone? Hell no, I’m dragging you with me.”

He felt his heart warm slightly, “My orders are to go alone.” Prime had told him to protect his brothers and that was what he was going to do. 

“Guess I don’t really care for the Republic’s favor after all then.”

CC-1010 straightened up and walked over to Thorn. His new home was utilitarian, barren of personality, and held a strange, encompassing, cloud of fear over it. 

That was nothing new to him though. Kamino was much the same. Back on Kamino, though, he had the rest of his batch as support and protection. The location and people had changed, but the goal was still the same: to survive. 

He was never going to return to his quarters with his older brothers ever again. This was his new home now and his new squad. He had to adapt accordingly. 

So, CC-1010 offered his hand out to Thorn, “Fox,” he introduced himself simply. 

Thorn grinned so widely Fox was certain it hurt. He enthusiastically took Fox’s hand in his own, “I’m glad I get to serve the Republic under you, Fox.”

Fox ducked his head and pulled away to sit at his desk. No one should be happy to serve under him. Lucky and Group B were probably cursing him. He knew too much, maybe he should…

No, the vercopa. 

He had to stay strong for Prime’s dream. The dream of freedom for his brothers, so that one day Thorn could leave freely. One day, Lucky could see all the colors he wanted. One day, Group B wouldn’t be forced to follow his orders. 

One day, where none of them would be nameless soldiers like in The Tactics of the Mandalorian Wars: A Complete Study of the Revanchist’s Revolutionary Strategies. He just had to hold out, Prime had a plan. 

After all, what good was a CC unit that couldn’t hold out?

The time he had spent on Coruscant while the war waged on (the jetiise doing absolutely nothing to stop it) had been difficult. The Coruscant Guard, as they had been dubbed, seemed to have an exponentially increasing amount of duties with every month that passed. First, it was planetary security and escort missions for the senators, then it was investigative work, then prison duty, then general patrols. 

And that was all without the kriffing requisition forms. 

When Prime told him he would be at the heart of it, somehow he didn’t put this part together. Supplies were shipped to Coruscant before being redistributed to the GAR. Somehow, that meant Fox was in charge of the distribution of supplies, weapons, armor, and machinery to the entire Grand Army of the Republic. 

Which meant that requisitions forms from every battalion were sent to him to approve and oversee. 

It was a complicated puzzle, but Fox had been designed to be a strategist. Some battalions had more dangerous assignments than others, some would be out of reach for longer, some had less troopers. It was all things he had to consider before sending out supplies. And, if he had something extra that he always sent to Kote, well it was not as if anyone was checking his work. 

“Delivery, commander,” the voice of his Lieutenant, Thire, sounded as the door to his office was thrown open. Thire was balancing several datapads in his arms. Fox’s other lieutenant, Axel, followed behind, looking entirely unconcerned with the precarious load Thire was carrying. 

Fox raised an eyebrow as Thire tripped over his own ankles and proceeded to save the stack of datapads from falling with a series of absurd contortions. Axel simply stood by the door, looking straight ahead though Fox could see the glimmer of amusement in his eyes. 

Thire panted as he straightened up and then glared over his shoulder at Axel, “Please don’t let yourself be bothered on my account.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t,” Axel shot back. 

Thire scowled and opened his mouth to respond but Fox cut him off, “Delivery?”

Axel stepped forwards, pushing past Thire who gave an indignant squawk, “Reports for you to sign off on, sir.”

Fox sighed but extended his hand for the datapads. Yet another facet of his job was to review written reports of the battles that took place in the war.

Axel took the datapads out of Thire’s hands finally and handed them to Fox. Fox gave him a nod, “Thank you Axel.”

Thire squawked again, “What about me?”

Fox ignored him though he couldn’t help the brief twitch of his lips, “Get some rest Axel, you’ve been working hard.”

Fox had to look down in order to hide his smile as Thire let out a cry of indignation. It was quickly silenced though as Axel grabbed his arm and dragged the other lieutenant out of the door. “Thank you commander,” Axel yelled over his shoulder as Thire continued to express his outrage. 

Axel pulled Thire out of the room and slammed the door behind him just as Thire managed to form actual words again. Fox let out a soft huff of laughter. 

The amusement faded quickly though as he looked through the datapads. He could deal with the requisition forms, and the security briefings, and all the other work sent his way. But this, the reports from the campaigns and battles, was what he truly hated the most. 

There was a campaign from General Gallia that had a loss of 1,029 troopers because it was decided that a frontal assault would be beneficial over the use of special ops units. A campaign from General Secura that had a loss of 736 troopers because she hadn’t given the order to retreat soon enough. A battle from General Krell that had a loss of 3,041 troopers because Fox could swear that General hated his brothers for some reason. A campaign on Christophsis from General Kenobi that had a loss of 467 troopers because Kenobi made his brothers leave their cover and charge straight into a battalion of droids. On a bridge. Where there was no shelter or cover and only one way to move. 

Fox despised being so helpless, having to watch his brothers be reduced to nothing more than ‘necessary sacrifices’. The ‘nameless soldiers’ that died because their generals were no Revan. He hated having to read the terrible tactics and just know that he could do better. They didn’t have to be sacrifices, it was the jetiise who were leading them to unnecessary deaths and they were forced to follow. Just like Prime had predicted. He hated having to review them, having to sign off on them. He hated having to act as if everything was normal. He hated the Jedi…

It was hard to overstate how much he hated Kenobi. Over a few sparse messages from his brother, he was able to tell how much Kote admired the man. Of course, Kote would have probably admired any Jedi he was assigned to, his devotion ran so deep. 

But still, why did it have to be Kenobi? The idiot who caused this entire war. The idiot who drove Prime away from Kamino and got him killed and then didn’t bother to see what happened to Boba. 

If there was one thing he had learned from the hypocrites-in-denial jettiise, it was that they only seemed to follow their ‘code’ to prove how morally superior they were at the worst of times. 

So he scowled when he saw Kenobi’s face plastered on billboards and the holonet. He scowled because everyone else looked up and saw the famed ‘Negotiator’ the general who could do no wrong. A hero. And CC-1010 had to read the reports from the ‘hero’s’ assignments. He had to read how Kenobi told his brothers to leave their cover on a single bridge on Christophsis in order to just charge straight at an entire battalion of droids. 467. He had lost 467 of his brothers that day. All because Kenobi ordered them to. 

Besides, General Kenobi had only earned the moniker ‘The Negotiator’ because natborns were ‘charmed’ by him. It was easy to be swayed if you found the person charming and it was easy to be charming if you had the face to go with it. Fox wanted General Kenobi to put on a clone helmet and armor and not be considered sentient and see if he was still so ‘charming’. 

Kote was usually better than this though, and he wasn’t even the only one. It hadn’t taken long for Bly to fall head over heels for his own Jedi, General Secura. Wolffe kept going on about just how lovely General Koon was and Ponds held General Windu, the murderer of Prime in high esteem. 

So there his older brothers were, paired up with a charming, narcissistic idiot, an incompetent lover girl, an old, masked, alien that was clearly trying to compensate for something, and a bald murderer. He hated them, he—

Another knock at his door sent his scattered thoughts tumbling. The door opened slightly to Axel and Thire again, though they both had their helmets on and appeared far more serious this time. 

Fox rose at once, “What is it?”

Axel snapped into a salute, “A General is here to see you, sir.” 

Fox’s eyes narrowed and he quickly put on his own helmet. The HUD sprang to life, informing him that his heart rate was higher than it should be. Fox gave a quick nod to both of his brothers at the door. He could see Axel hesitate for a second before returning it and they both stepped aside. 

Fox clamped down on his mental shields tightly and quickly shook off the lingering resentment he felt. He forced himself to remain unmoving as the door opened wider and none other than General Ti walked in. 

She carried herself more regally than the last time he had seen her on Geonosis. Her back was straight, and her hands folded into the long sleeves of her robes. Her dark eyes were clear and not swimming with pain anymore. Somehow, he felt small beneath them again. She seemed so effortlessly put together while he was just unraveling at the seams. He picked up a pen lying on his desk and held it behind his back, if only for something to anchor himself with. 

“Commander CC-1010,” she said warmly, “I am glad to see you again.”

Fox nodded at his lieutenants, an indication to leave. He could see them hesitate a little and while the gesture warmed his heart he wasn’t going to potentially put them in danger. He nodded again and Axel closed the door, leaving him and the General alone. 

“I’m glad to see you are alright, General,” CC-1010 replied formally. Was he glad? He wasn’t sure. He pulled his shields down tighter. 

General Ti smiled, “Yes, I wished to come see you earlier but my own injuries delayed me. I’m afraid to say I underestimated my own recovery time.”

CC-1010 sat down at his desk and gestured for her to sit across. He clenched the pen tighter in his hands. 

“Understandable sir,” he responded. Was that an insult? He didn’t mean it like an insult. Or did he?

The general smiled though her eyes remained sharp, “I dare say I would not be here if not for your bravery commander, you have my gratitude.”

“I am what I am required to be, sir.”

The repeat of his words on Geonosis made her eyes narrow again. “Have you thought on what I said to you that day commander?”

What was the proper way to answer that question? He probably couldn’t tell the truth and say no. “Some,” he settled on. 

She didn’t seem appeased by that answer at all, “And what conclusions have you drawn?”

I’ve discovered that none of you know what you’re doing, mir'sheb jetii. 

“None worth your time general,” he said in a neutral tone. 

General Ti smiled and the white marks on her face stretched, “I would disagree commander. I believe your input to be a unique and valuable one.”

Right, his input was only valuable when it came down to a philosophical discussion. But when he did as he was designed to do and strategize a battle, he was shot down because it was ‘cruel’ in the words of General Yoda. 

Her smile changed to more of a challenging smirk, “You don’t believe me?”

CC-1010 grit his teeth and clenched the pen tighter in his hand. He didn’t believe that she wanted to hear his actual input, instead only what she wanted to hear. 

“You, and every one of your brothers are unique in the Force. It swirls around each of you in a different pattern, attuned to who you are. You may look similar, the galaxy may tell you that you are one and the same, but the Force never does lie. Your strength lies within your individuality Commander, and one day you will see it too.”

CC-1010 clenched the pen so tight his fingers began to cramp. Her little speech sounded almost identical to Thire’s ramblings on what General Yoda had said to him when he accompanied the General on an escort mission a few weeks ago. Thire had been enamored with the swamp rat, proudly proclaiming all that he had learned. 

Unfortunately for General Ti though, CC-1010 was not Thire. 

“While I may not understand the… intricacies of your religious certainties general, I can speak to what I know of myself.” CC-1010’s kept his voice as flat and neutral as he could, but he felt the tendrils of rage reach for his mind. “I do not require you to explain my own sentience to me, I have known what I am since I was first created.”

The general’s calm demeanor broke for a vicious second that CC-1010 reveled in. Her eyes widened and she looked genuinely taken aback, “I…see.”

CC-1010 huffed and he hated that he suddenly felt a little guilty. “I know what I am general, and that is your property. I can assure you that my own personal thoughts on this matter will have no bearing on my ability to perform in the field.”

General Ti’s brow furrowed and her lips set into a small frown, “Though you do have personal thoughts on this?”

CC-1010 sincerely doubted she wanted to listen to how much he hated her and her colleagues. “Forgive me general, but I find it difficult to believe that you came here solely to discuss philosophy with me.”

She sighed and then stood, CC-1010 did as well. “You are correct commander, I have been positioned on your home, Kamino, to oversee the training of the other clones.”

CC-1010’s fist tightened on the pen again. His brothers were going to be watched over by her. As if the trainers and the kaminiise weren’t enough, now they had a Jedi evaluating them for deficiencies as well. She would no doubt be able to sense their fear and weakness with her Force abilities and—

“I wanted to speak with you, to know if there is anything I can do to help them.”

Her voice, it was so soft. Her eyes darkened again with a pain that he couldn’t begin to understand once more. In that moment she seemed… tired. She spoke quietly, “While I may not understand the intricacies of your own childhood, I have a duty as a Jedi to help those in need. And from what I can tell, your brothers fall into that category.”

Fox couldn’t describe how he felt. He was angry and astounded and surprised but not any less suspicious. Prime had warned him of the Jedi’s tricks. How they were able to influence minds and manipulate to get what they wanted. She was looking for weaknesses and he wouldn’t give them to her he—

“I only regret, that I could not do the same for you when you needed it.”

Fox’s mind was spinning. He didn’t know what to think, for once his strategic mind failed him. The general—Shaak Ti— she looked to be in mourning. She looked devastated and tired and old, full of a weariness of life and an acceptance of it as well. He felt insignificant and impossibly small in the wake of her bright eyes and for once his silver tongue twisted and refused to move. 

In the silence, Ti let out another sigh before turning away. Her hand came up to open the door and finally, Fox felt his lips move. 

“Decomissionings.”

His voice was quiet and small. He felt like that little cadet whose hands shook as he opened the Foreword of The Tactics of the Mandalorian Wars: A Complete Study of the Revanchist’s Revolutionary Strategies, somehow intrinsically knowing he was doing something he shouldn’t.

General Ti stopped in her tracks and turned to face him. He couldn’t meet her eyes. His grip on the pen cramped his fingers again. 

“What?” she asked softly. 

Fox swallowed, “If we are deficient, we are decommissioned.”

Her eyes narrowed, “What does that entail?”

“Faulty products have no use,” his voice was a whisper, “faults range from incorrect hair color, to incorrect height, to… incorrect ways of thinking.”

The general’s eyes finally gained a sheen of understanding. “You have my word CC-1010, that will not continue under my watch.”

Fox couldn’t speak, the hate he had felt for her and her kind only a few minutes ago lessened. In its place, a horrible guilt rose up. She was meant to die in this war. She was meant to die and she didn’t know, instead offering to help his brothers. He opened his mouth to speak, to send the truth tumbling from his lips but in that moment she gave him a nod full of understanding and opened the door. 

The tension fled from his body. She was leaving, but he hadn’t told her everything yet! His hands cramped painfully again as he unfurled them and he stumbled as he tried to reach her, catching himself with his hand on the side of the desk. 

Fox glanced down at his hand, his hand that was covered in dark blue ink from the pen cartridge that had broken as he squeezed it. 

1029

736

3041

467

Would Lucky have liked the blue that currently stained his hand?

Fox didn’t chase after the general. Her red and white headtails disappeared beyond the door, unknowing of the turmoil swirling in his mind. Fox sat back down at the desk and with gentle, reverent movements, tucked the ink cartridge into one of the drawers. 

He opened the datapads again. He read the reports. He signed off on the number of his brothers that had died, that would never see any more colors, that would never get to wonder if they were something more. He moved to the next datapad. 

And he kept his mouth shut. 

After all, what good was a CC unit that forgot who the enemy was?

Fox couldn’t believe the number that was written on the report. 

Nearly the entirety of Wolffe’s battalion, the 104th, had been wiped out over the Abregado system. His brother had been tracking a new weapon of the Separatists and had subsequently seen the effects of such a weapon. 

Fox didn’t even know what to say. 

The mission report read that General Koon had told them to engage, but not before contacting General Skywalker for reinforcements. 

What kind of or’dinii asked for reinforcements and then attacked? Why didn’t they retreat? Why didn’t they stay out of sight from the beginning? 

He should contact Wolffe, but he didn’t even know where to begin. What was he even supposed to say?

Fox stepped out of his office and left the base. He needed some air. 

Outside, the construction of a memorial for the troopers who died on Geonosis was underway. It ended up being a large slab of rock from Geonosis that would have their names carved into it. Axel had been instrumental in setting it up, and was currently overseeing its construction now. He came to a stop beside his brother. 

“It’s coming together well, Commander,” Axel reported, “we’ll start the engraving soon.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” He wondered how 25,000 troopers and 5,000 commandos were going to fit on it. 

Axel passed a datapad to him, “You can write anyone you want added.”

CC-1010 looked down at the datapad. Already, it was full of names and numbers, Axel must have sent it to several battalions. 

He swallowed and his hands shook as he carefully typed in ‘Lucky’ and hit the enter key. After a moment, he typed in ‘Group B’ as well. 

The tremble in his hands was obvious as he handed the datapad back and he was thankful when Axel didn’t mention it. 

Axel tilted his head, “They’re alright Commander, just marching on.”

“I…know.”

“By the way,” Axel reached into one of the pouches on his utility belt and pulled out a green ink cartridge. CC-1010 felt a warm feeling in his chest. He had begun to collect different colored ink cartridges after his discussion with General Ti. His men knew he did it but they didn’t know why. 

One day, CC-1010 was going to give them to Lucky. Then, Lucky could have all the colors he could ever want. He took the cartridge from Axel with a quiet, “Thank you.”

Axel nodded at him and then went back to overseeing the construction. With slow steps, CC-1010 began to head back inside. 

He stopped when he noticed something on the ground that reflected the sunlight. It was a credit chip. CC-1010 couldn’t help but laugh a little, it was the first time he had ever seen one before. He was willing to bet he wasn’t going to see many. 

CC-1010 picked it up almost reverently. It wasn’t much, which was almost funny because it was still more money than he ever had before. What should he do with it?

Lucky liked colors…he wondered what Group B would have liked. Would they even be able to agree? Maybe they would all want to go out at some point. Somewhere like a fancy restaurant or bar. 

CC-1010 tucked the credit chip into his pocket. It would be slow work, but he would save up for them. Then, they could go wherever they wanted, just like Lucky could have all the colors he could ever want. 

As Fox stepped back into his office, he was certain that Wolffe wouldn’t like what he had to say about General Koon and that ridiculous plan of attack. Wolffe liked when he was argumentative and upbeat, not sad and consoling. Fox signed off on the report, and tucked his comm away. Wolffe probably didn’t want to hear from him anyway. 

With gentle movements, he added the green ink cartridge to his drawer with the others, and placed the credit chip in another. 

After all, what good was a CC unit that couldn’t look after its subordinates?

After the entire mess with the bounty hunters taking the senate hostage, Fox had been called to the Chancellor’s office. 

“My lord,” he had greeted appropriately and bowed. 

Palpatine’s eyes took that hungry gleam again and ordered CC-1010 to rise with one gesture of his hand. 

“My dear boy,” Palpatine said jovially, too jovially for what had just happened, and CC-1010 didn’t trust the nickname in the slightest. “I appreciate your tenacity, such an unfortunate situation for all of us.”

CC-1010 hadn’t been in charge of Senate security and had no control over what had happened.  However, with the way the Chancellor was speaking, he had an idea that he was being blamed anyway. He didn’t dare question it though. There was still something about Palpatine that unnerved him, his desperate attempts to appear kind coming across as nothing but a shallow mask to hide something far worse. 

“I apologize for not being in sooner to stop the incident your excellency,” CC-1010 spoke calmly beneath his helmet. 

“Nonsense my boy,” the Chancellor waved one of his hands and CC-1010 had to admit, the term of endearment had his teeth on edge. “Unfortunately, the Senate guard was unable to do their duties, that is no reflection of you.”

CC-1010 refused to relax, he knew there was something more. 

At his silence, the Chancellor had continued, “However, I believe that maybe it should be.” 

CC-1010 kept his body perfectly straight and his breaths even. Palpatine’s eyes turned dark and he leaned forward on his desk. 

“You’ve been doing so well with the other manners of Coruscant’s security, and since the Senate guard is clearly lacking, I see no reason as to why you cannot handle the security of the most important members of the Republic as well.”

He was the spitting image of a perfect solider, not letting a single emotion show in his body language or even run across his mind. The Guard… they were stretched thin even right now. The constant patrols and investigative work, the training of the massiffs, and the security measures. All that and the methods CC-1010 had devised to control requisition forms and battle reports left them working long hours into the night. To add another duty…

But, CC-1010 was a strategist first and foremost. He would adapt, already plans were flying through his mind. Besides, it was not as if ‘no’ was an answer he could give. 

“We can do that my lord,” he replied. 

“Excellent commander, I am glad to have such a reliable soldier at my side,” the words Palpatine uttered didn’t match his expression at all. It was calculated and considering, as if he was inspecting CC-1010. 

“Permission to be dismissed my lord?” CC-1010 asked. 

“One moment, please.”

CC-1010 held his breath as the Chancellor stepped around his desk and stood right in front of him. He kept his body from trembling, even as it wanted nothing more than to step away from the icy exterior that seemed to emanate from Palpatine. 

One bony hand came out and gripped CC-1010 under the chin. He swallowed as he was forced to look into the Chancellor’s eyes through the tint of his HUD. It warned him that his heart rate and cortisol levels were rising. 

“You’re a clever boy Commander, so I have a question for you,” Palpatine’s voice finally dropped the kind tone and CC-1010 felt a shudder run down his spine. 

“Commander indulge me, if you were a separatist, how would you defend Geonosis differently?” 

That strange pressure descended on his mind again. It pulled and yanked and tore at his shields and he wanted nothing more than to throw his head into his hands and scream. The pain turned blinding and from blinding to nothing and then in a second back to unspeakable. 

“I can be patient when I must, Commander, but right now I am not convinced that I need to be,” Palpatine’s voice purred with a sharp edge to it. The pain in his mind doubled and he gasped slightly. 

How would he defend Geonosis? The simple answer: he wouldn’t. Then, his brothers could land and take the entire planet with no causalities. Somehow though, he was certain that that wasn’t what the Chancellor was asking. His mind felt like it was imploding from the inside out, like a hot knife was being slowly dragged across his brow, splintering his helmet until pieces of plastoid flew away and scooping away at the flesh beneath as if it were butter. 

CC-1010 coughed and gasped but he refused to let himself bend over or let the moisture that gathered in the corners of his eyes drip down his face. He hissed and sputtered through his teeth as the imaginary knife pushed through his skull and began carving up the matter of his brain in quick, inefficient slashes. All he could do was watch as the insides were splattered against the wall, as parasites seemed to crawl through the hole and into his blood stream. 

It wasn’t real, it wasn’t real, it wasn’t real…

In the back of his mind he was reminded of that day when Prime found out what he knew and tested him. This was again a test, and tests were something familiar to him. Through the haze of pain and blood and other matter splattered on the wall, he looked up and held the Chancellor’s gaze. 

There was something there, but CC-1010 wasn’t nearly coherent enough to recognize what it was. The Chancellor’s eyes seemed to gleam gold and were dark with malice. There was something wrong with his face too…

All of a sudden, the pain stopped and the image of his insides on the wall vanished. CC-1010 gasped and panted heavily even though it stopped so quickly as if it wasn’t there. 

“Impressive, very impressive,” the Chancellor purred. CC-1010 just stared at him, not finding the strength to answer. 

The Chancellor’s lips moved but for some reason, CC-1010 couldn’t hear it. It was as if the outside world tuned out, allowing him to focus on his duties perfectly. He stood at perfect attention.

“My lord?”

“Interesting,” the Chancellor muttered. 

“Awaiting your orders, my lord.”

“What is your name Commander?” the Chancellor ordered. 

“CC-1010, Marshal Commander of the Coruscant Guard.”

Lord Sidious frowned, “Tell me Commander, if you were planning the defense of Geonosis, what would you do?”

“Permission to consider for a moment, my lord?” 

“Granted.”

CC-1010 thought. There weren’t many ways to defend Geonosis, a Republic victory was nearly always guaranteed unless they made some vital misstep. The planet simply didn’t have enough  shelter. The geonosians may be able to hide underground, but that was only a temporary solution. If the Republic decided to glass the entire planet, they would die, and if the Republic were to lay siege and starve them out, they would also die. The best chance for the Separatists was to use Geonosis as a waste of time and resources to the Republic. 

“My lord, as unfortunate as it is, Geonosis is not a planet in which the Separatists should be focusing their defenses. It is too removed from the Core Worlds and the nature of the planet does not allow for much shelter at all. Baring a massive error, the Republic victory is inevitable. Geonosis can instead be used as a point for the Republic to waste resources. Shall I relay how best to do this?”

“Yes.”

“The geonosians’ weakest point is their lack of a navy. No air support allows for the Republic to land as many troops as they want and commence any bombings without hindrance. I would recommend supplying the geonosians with decent air support and ground cannons to make landing for the Republic difficult. In order to prevent one large bombing or the Republic simply glassing the planet, I would recommend setting the droid factories under shield generators, forcing the Republic to land. However, due to the nature of the terrain and a formation of ground forces that I can go further into, the Republic can be forced to land at only specific points. Leading the Republic forces to these points will allow for a trap to be set and for many of their forces and resources to be destroyed and wasted on an ultimately meaningless planet. Shall I go further into the formations for the geonosians?”

“No, no, that will be all for now Commander,” the Chancellor’s lips twisted into a smirk and his eyes gleamed. CC-1010 saw his lips move again and in an instant, the remnants of the pain slammed against his skull. He felt strange. 

“I’m glad to see your trainers did not lie, Commander. You are a talented strategist,” Palpatine moved back to his desk and sat down, immediately typing something. 

“I am what I am required to be sir,” CC-1010 said on instinct. 

The Chancellor smiled again, “You are dismissed, I thank you for your help.”

CC-1010 bowed and as quickly as he could without looking too suspicious, he left the office. The doors slid closed behind him with a hiss. 

Almost immediately, he tightened his shields and lagged against the doors. What…what was that? The pain was fading from his mind, but the memory was still clear. He swallowed down the nausea that rose in the back of his throat as he remembered the image of his brain being carved up and insects and worms infesting it. 

And…why had he spoken of the best way to defend Geonosis? He hadn’t wanted to—or no, he did want to. It was an order and he followed it. He was a good soldier, just like the kaminiise had always told him. 

CC-1010 straightened up and the thought was pushed from his mind. He had a more pressing issue, the newfound duty of the protection of the Senate. He quickly brought his comm up and called Thorn and Stone, his other commander. 

There was an answer almost immediately, “Sir?” Stone asked, all professionalism. 

CC-1010 waited a moment for Thorn to pick up. When he did, there was a muffled bark and the voice of Thorn sounded from the other side, “—can’t bring her to the mess hall.”

“But why? Grizzer’s better behaved than most of the vod, like Trigger!”

“Hey!”

“Enough, both of you! Sorry commander,” Thorn spoke up sheepishly into the comm. 

Oddly, the sound of his brothers bickering in the background soothed CC-1010. He allowed himself one moment to take a breath before speaking.

“We’ve been assigned another duty, Senate patrol.”

There was silence on the other side of the comm except for a few crashes and shouts on Thorn’s end. 

“Fox…” Stone spoke quietly, “we don’t have the men for that.”

Fox swallowed. He knew that, but there was nothing he could do about it. If he didn’t do this, who knows what would happen to the rest of the Guard. 

He pushed the strange experience out of his mind, and found that it was all too happy to leave. Fox could think about it and worry later. Prime wouldn’t have assigned him specifically here if he didn’t think Fox could handle it. All he had to do was wait for the vercopa. 

Already his mind was racing, “I have a few plans.”

After all, what good was a CC unit that couldn’t see the real issue?

…Right?

“The bugs apparently learned a lot since last time,” Kote said through the comm. 

“Really?” Fox asked. 

“Yeah, you said that before they didn’t have air support? They definitely had it this time. They also protected themselves with ray shields that were powered from the ground so we couldn’t do a lot of bombing runs. Also positioned themselves really well, there weren’t many places for us to land. If they had better aim or were able to think a little quicker, we might have been in trouble.”

Fox nodded to himself. Had they learned? Or had they been told what to do?

“Heard you’re getting promoted too,” he teased instead. 

Kote huffed, “Two Marshal Commanders in the same batch.”

“The kaminoans are probably running experiments as we speak.”

“No doubt.”

They fell quiet. Kote had called him after the second campaign on Geonosis. It had been difficult on the Republic, they had lost a lot to take the planet. Too much, in Fox’s opinion. In fact, while the bugs may have learned from the last battle it seemed like the Republic hadn’t at all. 

Had they not learned? Or had they been forced into a bad position?

“How’s your general?” Fox asked hesitantly. 

“Good, really good,” Kote said and Fox could hear the smile in his voice. 

Fox scowled, “Doesn’t seem like he did much the entire campaign.” He had already read the report. 

“He was injured Fox, what do you expect?”

“At least a better strategy than what you went in with.”

Kote sighed loudly and in clear annoyance. Almost immediately Fox felt bad, it was his job to help his older brothers. To be what they needed him to be. 

“Sorry,” he amended quickly. 

Over the comm, he could hear a voice on the other end say, “Cody, we need you in the briefing room when you’re ready.” Kote confirmed in a low voice. 

Apologies forgotten, Fox couldn’t believe what he had just heard. “Cody?” he said incredulously. 

Kote sighed again, “It’s what I’ve been going by.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know,” Kote snapped, “I guess I just wanted a change.”

“Why would you want a change?”

“It’s my name Fox, I don’t know why you care so much.”

Prime had given Kote that name. It had been a gift. A gift that any of them would have killed for and Kote was just throwing it away? He was about to say this when Kote spoke up again. 

“Look I have to go, I’ll talk you later alright?”

“Fine, stay safe Kote,” he replied with an emphasis on his brother’s name and then turned his comm off. After a moment there was a knock at his office door and he told them to enter. 

Axel stepped into the room, “Have a few things for you to sign Commander.”

Fox gestured for him to set them down on the desk. Axel stared at him for a moment, “You alright Fox?”

“Do you talk to your batchmates at all Axel?” Fox asked as he began signing. 

Axel scoffed a little, “Honestly I try not to think about them too much. There’s not really anything I can do to help them besides keeping myself alive.”

Keep himself alive…he could do that he was fairly sure. 

“You should get some rest Fox,” Axel said as he picked up some of the datapads on the desk, “you look like you’re half dead.”

“We have the same face, idiot,” Fox shot back, though his lips twitched up. 

Axel chuckled, “That’s how I know something’s wrong with you. Normally, you should be looking as good as this,” he gestured to his face. 

Fox snorted, “Well let me know when I reach your standards.”

“Sleep for more than three hours and you’ll be nearly there. After that, all you have to do is fix your personality.”

Fox chucked one of his pens at his brother, it bounced off the side of his head and Axel let out a small sound of surprise. 

“Don’t damage the standard, Fox!” Axel called out before shutting the door before any more pens could fly his way. 

Fox smiled to himself as he heard Axel’s footsteps walk away. The bugs probably had just learned from the last battle. The Chancellor was just curious about a hypothetical situation. There wasn’t any correlation at all. 

After all, what good was a CC unit that entertained delusions?

Fox hated him. 

He didn’t think he could hate anyone more than the kaminiise. Then, he met the Jedi and Kenobi. After that, he met the Chancellor and now him.

Senator Drellin. 

The senator from the ecumenopolis that was Hosnian Prime didn’t strike a particularly imposing figure. His bright blonde hair was always twisted into some impossibly elaborate knot and his eyes were as blue as the ocean in Kamino, but without any of the familiarness. 

Axel and CC-1010 followed dutifully behind the Senator (always with a drink in his hand) down the winding hallways of the Senate dome. Truthfully, Axel and him were only supposed to be standing guard, but as soon as the Senator had seen them, he had demanded they follow behind like dogs. CC-1010 had learned that arguing with the Senators was a fruitless endeavor. 

Senator Drellin took another swig of the drink he was holding and then held the flask over his shoulder without looking back. CC-1010 could hear the annoyed sighs from his internal comm that came from a few of his brothers lining the hallways. He was inclined to agree with them, but Axel reached forward and removed the flask from Drellin’s grasp without complaint. 

If there was one thing Fox deeply appreciated about Axel, it was that he never ever complained about their situation. He took everything in stride, even if he didn’t agree. It saved Fox from so many headaches. When he was done saving enough credits for Group B to go out, Axel would be next on the list. 

“Dull thing, get the door,” CC-1010 was broken out of his reverie by the lovely voice of Drellin’s demands again. He grit his teeth, he was a soldier, not a personal assistant but an order was still an order. At least these orders weren’t actively sending his brothers to their unnecessary deaths like the Jedi’s. 

CC-1010 carefully stepped around Drellin, making sure to never turn his back fully to the Senator because he had recently learned it was ‘rude and unbecoming to treat a Senator of the Galactic Republic in such a crude way.’

He pulled open the door that led to a meeting room overlooking the South side of the Senate building. Large windows lined the walls and ornate furniture decorated the interior. 

As soon as the Senator and Axel were through, he gently closed the door behind him because ‘Hadn’t he learned any manners on that outer world sty he had been grown in?’

He took his guard position at the door while Axel moved to pull out a chair for the Senator. There was no acknowledgment for the action, Drellin walked straight past and sat down without so much as a glance at Axel. CC-1010 took several breaths as Axel joined him. He couldn’t help but roll his eyes. 

“That’s unbecoming Commander,” Axel’s voice sounded over the private comm in a perfect imitation of Drellin. 

Fox snorted, making sure to keep his body from moving. “How could you even see that?”

“I just assume that you always have the same reaction I do,” Axel replied.

“You’re not wrong.” 

They both fell quiet as the group at the table began speaking. It wasn’t anything official, simply a meeting between a few of the senators. The stuck up, holier-than-you, insane one from Naboo with the strange hair, Amidala, the Alderaan senator, Organa, who appeared to spend more time on his awful taste in clothes than his actual job, the bug-eyed, fish-faced freak Senator Tills, and the waddling blue baby, puffy-faced pantoran princess, Senator Chuchi. 

CC-1010 knew the nicknames he and his brothers had come up with weren’t kind or appropriate in the slightest, but he couldn’t find himself to care. It was what kept them sane in the long hours of Senate patrol, constantly being either berated or ignored by the people who were supposed to be the upstanding bastions of democracy in the Republic. Besides, his brothers were dying for them by the thousands, surely a few nicknames were the least of what they were owed. 

Drellin stood with a flare and held out his hands to Chuchi, “My dear, it is so good to see how you’ve moved up in the world.”

Senator Chuchi gave Drellin a warm smile and moved into the embrace. CC-1010 didn’t know much about natborn customs, but he was fairly sure that friendly gestures didn’t require one's hands to be placed that low. 

In any case, Chuchi pulled away with a twisted smile and sat back down. CC-1010 wasn’t surprised to see the friendliness between the two, Hosnian Prime was known to have a large pantoran population. 

The senators began discussing a bill that was apparently in the works by Senator Burtoni, the representative of Kamino. CC-1010 had only had one interaction with her since his Senate duties began and that was to pull him aside and tell him to ‘not mess with anything’ as if he were still a cadet. 

“It is more important that the funds are distributed to the well being of the Republic, its people are slowly being ground down from this war,” Organa spoke clearly and Amidala nodded. 

“I concur,” Drellin said and Chuchi just nodded on the side. “The citizens of the Republic are not being given the necessities that were once provided. Should this bill go through, their quality of life will no doubt continue to go down. My people need the assurance or else I have no doubt that they will be clambering to leave the Republic as well.”

Amidala pressed her forehead into her hand, “This all seems so convoluted. If the Republic were to allow what systems did not want to be a part of it anymore to leave freely, we would not be in this mess.”

“And yet,” Drellin’s voice was gentle and CC-1010 hated it, hated the mask that bastard put up. “It is the CIS that attacked first, my lady. Kidnapping and sentencing you and the two other Jedi to death was an act of war.”

Amidala sighed, “I suppose you are right… but so many have died since. Many who did not want any part of this conflict to begin with.”

“Death comes for us all, Padme,” Drellin said softly and CC-1010 wanted nothing more than to wrangle him. 

“In any case,” Organa said, “can we count on your vote when the time comes?”

“Of course, my friend,” Drellin replied. He began searching his pockets and sleeves and CC-1010 could already tell what it was for. “Blast,” the senator muttered and then snapped his fingers twice without looking up. 

Axel let out a sigh and slowly walked forwards, handing the flask to Senator Drellin. Upon remembering that it was empty, Drellin let out another curse and stood. “Excuse me for a moment my friends.”

“Of course,” said Organa with a smile. 

Drellin stood and walked towards the door, signaling for Axel and CC-1010 to follow with another snap. CC-1010 was about to move when Axel spoke up through the private comm. 

“I’ll handle this Commander, you can stay here.”

He felt a rush of gratitude towards Axel again. “Thank you Axel, be careful.”

“I always am sir.”

He huffed, “I’m glad I don’t have to worry about you. Don’t tell Thire, but you’re my favorite.”

Axel actually snickered lightly, “Sorry sir, I can’t promise that.”

“The one time you disobey my orders is to mess with Thire?”

“You wouldn’t do the same sir?”

CC-1010 chuckled, “Go do your job soldier.”

“Yes sir, for the Republic and all that,” Axel muttered as he held the door for Drellin and the followed him out. There were a few words exchanged between the senators before Tills rose to leave as well. CC-1010 couldn’t help but notice how she did not require an escort everywhere she went. 

 As soon as the door shut, Amidala was speaking again, “Can he really be trusted?”

“No, but I do think he’ll vote with us on this bill, though perhaps for the wrong reasons,” Organa replied sadly and Amidala’s eyes flickered over to CC-1010. 

“Why can’t he be trusted?” finally Chuchi spoke up, “He only wants what’s best for the Republic citizens.”

“Because Drellin’s only focus is the citizens of the Republic,” Organa replied. 

Chuchi frowned, her purple lips twisting, “I’m…not seeing the issue?”

Amidala sighed, “The Republic has a duty to do right by the galaxy, not just its own citizens. There are also those who dedicate their lives in service to the Republic, but are not recognized as citizens.”

“What? Who?”

Amidala turned to fully face CC-1010 and he suddenly had a very bad feeling about this. 

“Trooper, would you mind joining us?”

It was phrased as a question, but he had long since learned that there were no questions when it came to natborns. Stiffly, he marched towards the table, stopping once he reached it and standing in perfect parade rest. 

“Please,” Organa said and pulled out the chair next to him. 

CC-1010 really didn’t like this but he couldn’t refuse. He sat down in the chair and faced forwards without really looking at anything. 

“Chuchi,” Amidala said gently, “the clones give their lives to keep us safe, but they aren’t recognized formally as sentient by any Republic conventions.”

The pantoran tilted her head and looked curiously at him. When he refused to move she said in a whisper, “Can it hear us?”

“Riyo!” Organa spoke up sharply. 

“What?” she asked quietly, eyes wide, “what’s wrong?”

“Riyo,” Organa said firmly, “the trooper in front of you is not an ‘it.’ He is a soldier and is first in line to protect you should the need arise. It would be wise to treat him, and the others, with respect.”

“But…” she seemed startled and CC-1010 truly did not want to be in this room anymore, “it—he’s a clone.”

“Do you have a name soldier?” Amidala asked. 

Fox swallowed, “I am CC-1010 ma’am, Marshal Commander of the Coruscant Guard.”

“Have you chosen a name for yourself? Apologies, if I am incorrect, I have heard it is a tradition among clones,” Amidala gazed straight at him with a small smile. 

She was…well she was quite pretty if CC-1010 was to be completely honest. Objectively honest of course. Maybe she was still stuck up and pretended to be better than she was, but he could admit that most people would find her pretty. Most, not him, but most. 

What had she asked him? Right, his name. 

“I do have a name that my brothers refer to me as Senator. However,” his head turned briefly to Chuchi and then back again, “I would prefer not to share it with present company.”

Kriff, that sounded incredibly rude. 

“O-only with your permission of course, ma’am,” he was quick to hopefully rectify. 

Her smile grew, “Of course, I understand completely.”

CC-1010 didn’t like the look on her face. It screamed of patronization and reminded him too much of the kaminoan’s false words of comfort and praise. 

“Commander,” Organa spoke up, “exactly how old are you?”

CC-1010 wet his lips under his helmet. His HUD informed him of his raised heartbeat and he wanted nothing more than to tell it to shut up. “I am about ten standard cycles old by your understanding, sir.”

Chuchi let out a gasp and Organa’s face darkened. CC-1010 noticed how the male senator’s hands gripped the table tightly. 

“Is that the standard age of most of the clones?” Organa asked through what looked like gritted teeth. 

“It depends, sir. I was nine cycles old during the first battle of Geonosis. Many of my brothers were a few cycles older, some were a couple cycles younger. In general, due to growth acceleration factors we are given on Kamino, we are ready to fight when we are eight or nine cycles old, sir.”

“Y-you are children…” Senator Chuchi’s eyes were wide and horrified. 

CC-1010 felt a stab of annoyance. It was true that he and his brothers were young in terms of years, but they were also grown. “We spend every hour of every day training to be soldiers ma’am. I assure you, there is no need to doubt my abilities.”

“There is no doubt in your abilities Commander,” Amidala was quick to reassure, “I believe Senator Chuchi was simply surprised, as by our standards, ten cycles old is still considered very young.”

“I-I apologize for any offense I may have caused Commander,” Chuchi spoke quickly. 

“There is nothing to forgive ma’am,” CC-1010 addressed her, “I am your property and at your service.”

Chuchi seemed to turn a little green at that. “C-commander,” she stuttered, “I can assure you, I am under no such pretenses. I…I do not own others as property…”

Well, she had better morals than the Jedi at least, he thought bitterly. He didn’t dare voice that thought out loud though. It was well known to him that Organa and Amidala were close Jedi sympathizers. Maybe too close in one case…

“Be that as it may Senator, I have been created in service to the Republic. By right, I am Republic property, and by extension, yours as well. My genetic structure has been modified so that I am completely obedient to my owners.”

Fine, maybe he was laying it on a little thick, but the way Chuchi seemed to look more and more horrified with every word he spoke was a little amusing. This was a truth every clone accepted as soon as they were decanted. It was the way of the galaxy, a fundamental truth that you either believed in, or were reconditioned until you did believe in it. 

Organa’s brow was furrowed, “I’m curious as to what you think of the Separatists then, Commander.”

Why were they asking so many questions? He had half a mind to send a message to Thorn, begging for a sudden emergency to get him out of here. 

“The Separatists are the enemy, sir. I have been conditioned to be loyal to the Republic, therefore I find their claims that the Republic is unjust and broken to not be reputable. They are wrong in their goals,” he recited perfectly. 

“While I do believe that war is not the answer,” Amidala spoke carefully, “I also believe it is important to consider both sides of the conflict.”

“I am glad you have the luxury of that, ma’am. I must believe that there is only one side fighting for good in this conflict.”

“It is imperative to know that there are heroes on both sides, Commander,” Amidala’s voice turned a little sharp. 

Well, these three were shaping up to be the hypocrite in denial type. Heroes on both sides? Fox wanted to laugh. Oh yes, the heroes that killed his brothers by the thousands. The heroes that tried to invade Kamino recently. Heroes like Dooku, who tried to have Amidala killed if he was correct? Heroes like Gunray of the Trade Federation who had set up a blockade around Amidala’s planet years ago if his studies on Kamino had been correct. 

He wasn’t sure what it was, but he wanted her to be quiet. He wanted to have the last word, even though he knew that arguing with a natborn was a sure way to get hurt. 

“They had a ship called the Malevolence ma’am,” he snarked with no small amount of sass in his voice. 

Senator Amidala’s eyes widened and her cheeks flushed. Organa let out a cough that was a poor attempt at hiding a laugh and even Chuchi looked surprised. 

CC-1010 kept speaking before they could recover, “I understand your aversion to violence ma’am, but my brothers and I have been forged in it since we were first created. While you may see a conflict in shades of grey rather than black and white, I see the death count of my brothers after a battle. At the first battle of Geonosis, you may have seen your own life flash before your eyes, but I saw my own form and face be shot, burned, and melted twenty-five thousand times over. You may have heard the sound of blaster fire and explosives, but I heard my own voice scream in pain and beg for help echo through the sand. 

“I mean when I say I am glad you can consider multiple perspectives in this war, but I simply cannot when I must yet again tell another of my brothers that I cannot save them. I cannot when I see the aftermath of another battle on my brothers. As difficult as it may be for you to believe, they are my family.” Fox finished his rant and almost immediately regretted it. He had revealed too much in his effort to prove her wrong. He should be better than this. 

“M-my apologies, my lady,” he said quickly. 

CC-1010 was startled when Amidala spoke gently, “It is perfectly alright Commander. I am happy that you can share your perspective, that is what democracy should be about. I have to wonder though, do you place no blame on the Republic for you and your brothers’ situation?”

He felt himself close off. She was searching for information, searching for evidence of his treason. Well, he wasn’t going to give it to her, he was smarter than that. “No ma’am. The Republic has given me life, I owe it a debt. I know you say that ‘war is not the answer’ but without it, I wouldn’t exist.”

Organa looked to be considering that statement deeply, as did Amidala. They both did not look especially pleased. He was about to apologize again, when he felt a hand gently touch his own. He startled slightly as he looked up to see Chuchi gaze at him, tears brimming in the corners of her eyes. 

“I am so sorry Commander,” her voice trembled, “I am so sorry for never considering more than what people told me. I swear to you now, I will not forget this. I will do everything in my power to make sure you and your family will live after this war.”

CC-1010 wasn’t sure what to say to that. No natborn had ever cried over him before. He had never cried for himself or for his brothers before… What did that make him?

It—

It made him a good soldier and a better commander. After all, what good was a CC unit that cried over necessary sacrifices?

Fox was exhausted (as usual) by the time he finally returned to the military base he called home. His schedule was arranged for about an hour and a half before he had to go on patrol through the undercity. 

It was the plan he, Thorn, Stone, Axel, and Thire had poured over a few weeks ago. None of the Guard was pleased to hear about their new duties to Senate patrol. Stone had been right, they simply didn’t have the men. 

But, Fox was a strategist first and foremost. After long nights spent at his desk with Axel at his side, they had devised the new rotation for the Guard. It worked like a circle, with a constant influx and outflow of trooper duties. A patrol led to Senate guard duty which led to a short rest (because they all needed it after the Senate), which then branched squads up into prison duty or general security, and then they would regroup back to undercity patrol. 

The loop ran all day and all night, leaving no facility empty for even a moment. It was grueling and difficult, and there was no way his men were getting the rest they required, but it was their orders and the best he and Axel could do. 

The dark of the early evening cast long shadows around the Guard shipyard. Fox made sure to keep his gaze straight, without even a glance towards the Geonosis memorial. He really needed to get more credits for Group B, they deserved much better. 

Fox gave a nod to Angle who sat at the front desk. In return, Angle gave him a cheerful wave, “Evening Commander! How was Senate duty?”

Fox scowled under his helmet and quickly swiped his keycard to let him past the ray shielded doors. “Don’t even get me started,” he hissed at Angle who cackled. 

He worried about Angle sometimes. His brother was eccentric at the best of times, and incomprehensible at the worst. He did his job well though so it wasn’t as if Fox could complain. 

Fox marched down the long hallways and into his office. He threw off his helmet and set it on the desk with a thud. A groan escaped his chair as he tumbled back into it. Yes, technically his schedule said this was his break but Fox was never one to live under delusions. He let himself have a few seconds of peace before sitting up and opening one of the datapads on his desk. 

More requisition forms, more battle reports, more death counts. 

Allie—57

Koth—23

Unduli—629

Mundi—126

Krell—1,020

Skywalker—721

Fox frowned as he got to that last name. Even though he had to admit Rex was maybe, not his favorite brother, he wouldn’t wish Skywalker as a general on anyone. He was simply too erratic to have a single bit of subtlety in his plans, and of course, Fox’s brothers paid the price. And that was without mentioning his student, who apparently was also in charge of his brothers. Yes, Fox had been overjoyed to read how she had gotten an entire squad of pilots killed because of her inability to follow orders. He just knew the other generals had turned it into a teaching moment for her. Of course, the deaths of his brothers were nothing more than a teaching moment. 

Necessary sacrifices, nameless soldiers. He was so sick of it. 

There was a ping on his comm and he connected it to the datapad to read the message. In hindsight, he would rue every moment that had ever led to this. 

Big, bold, blocky letters stood out on the datapad and Fox felt his breathing stop. 

DECOMISSIONING NOTICE 

By right of the Republic’s ownership of Kaminoan produced assets, I have found reasonable need to request a decommissioning order of CC unit 5389, alias “Axel,” effective immediately.

This request was made in light of probable cause, and in accordance with Clause 2(b) of the Kaminoan Clone Action Directive, which grants all Republic superiors the authority to mandate the decommissioning of any Kaminoan asset without submitted evidence due to, but not limited to, reasonable belief of danger or possible danger to a superior officer, danger or possible danger to Republic property, or danger or possible danger to other associates.  All duties, belongings, and necessary disciplinary actions will be transferred to CC-1010, Marshal Commander of the Coruscant Guard, for further oversight and action.

Signed,

Brasker Drellin 

Republic Senator of Hosnian Prime

Fox couldn’t breathe. He read the message over again. And then again. And again. And again. 

Decommissioning without probable cause? That couldn’t be allowed that—

His mind raced to his brothers on Kamino who were decommissioned for different hair colors, or for different eye colors, or different heights only off by a hair, or simply for thinking differently. 

But it was different here! General Ti had stopped that, she had sworn that she would! She had promised, SHE HAD KRIFFING PROMISED.

Fox’s hands shook, Clause 2(b) of the Kaminoan Clone Action Directive, he searched for it on his datapad. The drink cup on his desk fell to the floor be he didn’t bother picking it up. Clause 2(b), Clause 2(b), Clause 2(b), there had to be a loophole, a mistake, something he could use. 

He should have known better than to overestimate Drellin’s reading comprehension. The exact words from the notice were written under the Clause 2(b) page. 

Fox’s breathing was picking up, his whole body was trembling. The clause could only be enacted if Axel was a threat, but what threat could he possibly be? Axel was better than the rest of them at hiding his emotions, certainly a million times better than Fox himself. His brother would never, he knew the danger. 

Could be submitted without evidence? What was this? 

His body felt cold as he noted how he wasn’t the only recipient of this message. It had been forwarded to Kamino as well. 

Fox picked up the datapad and his helmet and sprinted out the door of his office. He didn’t bother apologizing to any of the squads he bumped into. 

“Hey Fox!” he heard Hound’s cheerful voice, seemingly oblivious to the panic Fox was in, “What’s the rush?” Hound tried to calm down Grizzer who was panting and straining against her leash to run with Fox. 

Fox sprinted past them without a care. He turned the corner, skidded to a halt and threw open the door to his, Stone, and Thorn’s room. 

He was surprised to see not only Stone and Thorn, but Thire…and Axel as well. They were crowded around Axel, seemingly trying to cheer him up. Fox had a sinking feeling in his chest.

“Fox,” Thorn turned with a smile, “I was just about to comm you. Axel’s been up in a frenzy since Senate…” Thorn trailed off when he saw Fox’s panicked face. 

“Fox…,” Thorn’s voice became a whisper, “what’s wrong?”

Fox slammed the door behind him, causing the lieutenants to jump. “What happened?” he demanded. 

“Nothing happened!” Axel spoke up from between Thire and Stone. He let out a groan and pulled at his hair. Fox had never seen him so agitated before. 

Fox threw himself onto his knees and cradled Axel’s face between his hands. “Vod,” he said softly but his voice sounded scratchy, “I have to know what happened.”

Axel growled, “I mean it Fox, nothing happened. I walked him back to his apartment, he asked me to get him a drink, which I did and then he told me to leave. That’s all that happened.”

“Then why are you like this?” Fox challenged. 

Axel let out a groan, “I was trying to unwind, believe it or not, I don’t exactly like serving that shabuir.”

Fox could tell just from looking at Axel that his brother was telling the truth. Senate duty always had them on edge. 

“What’s going on Fox?” Stone asked sharply. 

With trembling fingers, Fox held out the datapad to them. 

The silence that filled the room as his brothers read the message was horrible. 

“Kriff,” Thorn muttered. He stood and then lashed out the wall, driving his fist into it, “KRIFF! That kriffing chakaaryc…”

Thire looked dazed and Stone in utter disbelief. Axel…Axel had moved his head back to his hands and Fox couldn’t see his expression. 

“What can we do?” Stone straightened up. 

Fox stayed silent. 

“Fox,” Thire began darkly, “Ne shab’rud’ni, tell me what we can do.” Thire reached out and shook Fox by the shoulders hard, “You fucking bastard,” tears formed in the corners of Thire’s eyes, “TELL ME WHAT WE CAN FUCKING DO!”

“SHUT UP,” Fox shouted back and ripped himself away from Thire’s arms. He stood and began pacing back and forth, his mind racing faster than it ever had before. 

“Is that actually a clause?” Thorn asked, still in disbelief. 

“Yes,” Fox was glad for Stone’s answer. His brother was all business, searching through the datapad, no doubt looking at the same document Fox had. “Without evidence…kriffing hell,” Stone muttered. 

“Then it doesn’t even matter what we say, if no evidence is needed— osik,” Thorn looked away. 

The clause was buried in the Directive, there was no possible way Drellin noticed it himself. Someone else must have told him. Someone who knew the inner workings of the clones. Someone like Burtoni. He despised that old hag with every part of his being.

Fox’s mind raced, it flew through every simulation he had ever done. Every battle strategy he had ever devised. His training came up short, he was never supposed to be able to fight something like this. 

Something he hadn’t learned from his training then. His mind flew to the moment he had impersonated his brothers to complete their evaluation for them. The natborns couldn’t tell them apart…but Axel had already given Drellin his name apparently. Drellin probably asked for it before Axel left and he didn’t think anything of it. Fox wanted to curse, this was why he only allowed his name to be used in the safety of the military base. Anything the kaminiise could use to identify him was a danger. Why hadn’t Axel ever thought of that? 

This wasn’t the time for what-ifs. He was cornered, and he hated the feeling. Abruptly, he remembered General Ti. Remembered the way her eyes spoke a wisdom greater than himself, remembered the way they darkened with purpose when he told her about…

“She promised…” Fox hated how young he sounded. 

“Who?” Stone spoke up. 

“General Ti…” Fox whispered, “She promised that she would stop the decommissionings…”

Thire’s eyes darkened with hate and his lips twisted in fury, “Jetii-hut’unn.”

The words were ironic coming from Thire, who had so clearly respected the Jedi after his mission with General Yoda. It only made them more poignant. 

Fox rose up and put on his helmet. He was truly cornered, and it wasn’t even from being outwitted, it was only because the galaxy was against him. His resolve was firm, he turned away and was about to walk out of the room when Axel finally spoke up. 

“Don’t even think about it, Fox,” Axel spat out the words. 

Fox turned, “Don’t even think about trying to stop me, Axel.”

Axel rose and gripped Fox’s shoulders in his hands, “You’re only going to make things worse. What if he orders it for you too?”

“I’m Marshal Commander to the Chancellor, he wouldn’t dare.”

Axel’s eyes narrowed, “You’re underestimating him.”

Fox bat Axel’s hands off of him, “I mean it Axel, don’t try to stop me.”

“Fucking—” Axel started, “Just listen to me di’kut—”

“Switch our positions,” Fox shot back, “Switch our positions and tell me if you could ever forgive yourself if you didn’t try.”

Axel finally broke eye contact and looked down. Shame seemed to poison his posture. 

Fox leaned forwards and placed a hand on his brother’s back, “I will never forgive myself if I don’t try. I don’t care what he asks, what he makes me do, I’ll be his personal servant for the rest of my life if it saves you.”

Something glittered in Axel’s eyes. Ever so slowly, he stepped away from Fox. “Be safe,” he whispered. 

“I will.”

Fox turned away from his brothers. 

“Fox…”

He glanced over his shoulder at Axel. 

“Thank you.”

Fox nodded, made sure his helmet was secure, and began the walk to Senator Drellin’s apartment. He ignored the lurch in his chest that seemed to scream in warning. 

…

“Commander! What a surprise!”

CC-1010 grit his teeth but managed a nod. He took several breaths to calm down. This was for Axel, all for his brother, he needed to do this. 

“Come in!” said Drellin and ushered him inside. 

CC-1010’s heart began beating quickly and he had to make a conscious effort to keep his breaths from coming in pants. His instincts were screaming at him and he wasn’t sure why. The apartment had white walls adorned with various metal pieces of ‘art.’ 

The entire place was practically spotless. Maybe that’s what was making him uneasy, he was too used to the mess Thorn and Thire left everywhere. That must be it. 

“So Commander,” Drellin shut the door and it locked with a wave of his hand, “I’m curious what has brought you here? Surely not another security breach?”

This is for Axel.

“No sir,” CC-1010 shifted from one foot to the other in a show of anxiety. He was hoping that Drellin would be more sympathetic to his plight that way. “Unfortunately, I’ve come here with more of a personal matter.”

Drelllin raised an eyebrow, “Pour me a glass of the Correllian there,” he gestured in a waving motion to the counter at the back of the room. 

This is for Axel. 

CC-1010 let none of his anger show as he performed the menial task. He handed the glass over to the senator with pretend reverence. 

Drellin took a loud sip, “Ah, just as good as it always is. Now then, a personal matter? I was unaware clones could have those?”

CC-1010 swallowed, “They are few and far between sir. But it regards one of my men, the clone I believe you know as Axel?”

Drellin snapped his fingers, “Oh yes! The faulty one, couldn’t tell a Corellian ale from an Alderaanian, I mean, I ask you,” he broke off into more muttering, “Anyway, what of it?”

CC-1010 had to take a moment before speaking. That was why Axel was being decommissioned?

No, he had to take deep breaths. He could be angry later, he was doing this for Axel.

“I understand your frustrations Senator,” CC-1010 began, “and I assure you, Axel will be punished accordingly for his misdoing and never set foot in the Senate again. You have placed an order for him to be decommissioned though.”

The senator leaned against the wall, glass still in his hand and narrowed his eyes, “Yes I have called for a faulty product to be removed. What is the issue Commander?”

CC-1010 held his hands behind his back so that Drelllin couldn’t see how his fists tightened. “If you would allow me to be blunt sir, a decommissioning to us means death.”

Drellin chortled and waved a hand dismissively, “Death comes for us all. If a product is faulty, you discard it. Say Commander, if one of your blasters stopped working what would you do?”

CC-1010 felt his blood boil under his skin. His voice strained with the effort of keeping it soft, “I would fix it sir,” he said pointedly. 

“What’s a fix if you can just replace it with a million more? A waste of time, that’s what.”

This wasn’t working. Why wasn’t it working? What did he have to do? Should he be less argumentative? More innocent? It had worked with Chuchi only a few hours ago. He couldn’t read Drellin. 

Only that wasn’t it. He could read Drellin perfectly fine. Actually, he could read him easily. If he let go of the justifications he had made in his mind, the endless excuses and meaningless theories, what he saw was that the senator appeared to simply enjoy tormenting him and his brothers. 

CC-1010 dropped the innocent voice and it turned pleading, “Sir, I know that we seem like nothing but a product to you, but we are still alive. We still breathe, think, and feel just like you do. Axel and I are products, but we are also brothers. We are brothers who have gone through hell together. I’m begging you to rescind the order.”

The words tasted like ash in his mouth. He despised lowering himself to something like begging, but it was truly the only way he could think to persuade Drellin. If he had to give up his pride to save Axel he would give it up a million times over. 

Drellin’s eyes widened and when he exhaled it seemed to hitch slightly. Fox’s instincts began screaming again. His body was trembling, imploring him to move. 

Drellin looked slightly dazed, “I had no idea…”

CC-1010 felt a sliver of hope.

“I had no idea a thing like you could speak like that.”

The hope was dashed out just as quickly as it arose. He felt uneasy, very uneasy. There was something he wasn’t picking up on here. 

Drellin actually set down his glass and stalked forward. CC-1010 forced himself to stay still as hands came up and pulled his helmet off. Drellin inspected his flushed face with the same look of daze. 

“It’s astonishing how something bred in a laboratory could still look so human,” he mused to himself. One hand came up and CC-1010 felt the back of Drellin’s hand caress his cheek. 

This…this wasn’t right. He could tell something wasn't right. This was for Axel though, he repeated to himself. His body was begging for him to move, his breaths were rising again, and his heart was thundering in his chest. A cold sweat broke out and trickled down his back.  

But he forced himself to be still. 

“Say it again,” Drellin commanded. 

“W-we are brothers—” he stuttered. His skin felt clammy and there was some kind of weight on his chest and he couldn’t get it to go away. He couldn’t get it to go away—

“Not that, idiot,” the senator’s voice was impatient. 

CC-1010 swallowed, “I’m b-begging you—”

Drellin shuddered and his eyes seemed to bug out. The hand dropped from CC-1010’s face and Drellin began to walk around him slowly. The senator’s eyes roved up and down CC-1010’s body with a hunger that he didn’t recognize, but he knew it wasn’t good. 

Drellin stalked forwards and CC-1010 felt himself take trembling steps back until his body met a wall behind him. He felt his chin be taken in a hand and his head was forced up to meet eyes that were shining with the same thing he didn’t recognize. 

“How old are you, Commander?” Drellin purred. 

CC-1010 couldn’t speak, the words refused to come out of his mouth. What was wrong with his body? Why wasn’t it obeying him? Why couldn’t he move—

“Ah, well not like it really matters. Down,” Drellin ordered. 

CC-1010’s whole body was shaking, “S-sir—”

“I said down you faulty product,” the words were said with urgency. The reminder of the decommissioning order made CC-1010 slowly sink to his knees. Drellin’s hand came up to sift through his curls. 

He was going to vomit, or choke, or freeze, or burn, or something. This wasn’t right, this wasn’t right, this wasn’t right—

“Why don’t you show me how human you really are, product,” Drellin whispered, “and maybe I’ll consider your personal request.”

This was for Axel. This was for Axel. This was for Axel.

What was for Axel? What was he doing? He didn’t understand—no—he did understand—no— he didn’t— he was ten cycles old— he was a CC unit—after all—he was made to serve—no he was made to fight—no—where was he?—

Where was Prime? Or Kote, where was Kote?

Kote help me, please ori’vod, please, I need you, I need you, please—

…

Fox stumbled into the room he shared with Thorn and Stone. They both leapt up when he entered. Thire was pacing back and forth and Axel was sitting on Fox’s cot, but he didn’t rise. 

“How did it go?” Thorn demanded, “what did he say?”

Fox stared ahead. The lights on his HUD blinked at him innocently, telling him he had a message from the Chancellor.  

“Fox?” Thorn said cautiously. 

The door shut behind him. Almost immediately, Fox sagged against it. Stone was at his side in a second, supporting him as he sunk to the floor. In gentle movements, Thorn walked forward and removed his helmet. The dim light of the room still made him blink. 

He was shaking. Why was he still shaking? 

“Vod?” Stone said softly, “what happened?”

Why wouldn’t his body stop trembling? Thire had dropped the datapad he was holding and hurried forward to kneel down in front of him. Thorn shifted to grip his hands in both of his own. Fox felt no warmth from the touch though. Slowly, ever so slowly, he raised his head to meet eyes with Axel, who had risen from the cot and was now standing above him. 

Thorn wrapped an arm around his trembling body and Stone and Thire began muttering whispers of comfort to him. 

Fox didn’t pay attention to them though. He stared up at Axel, Axel whose eyes were normally so fierce and alight with righteous fury, whose posture normally spoke of no nonsense but would occasionally indulge some vod’s antics. 

Defeat lined Axel’s shoulders. A weariness in his body that didn’t suit the few years he had lived. And yet when Fox gazed into his eyes, he found no blame there, only a deep grief. A grief that seemed to transcend anything he had felt before. 

Fox saw no blame in Axel’s eyes but that was fine. He had more than enough blame for himself to make up for both of them.

After all, what good was a CC unit that couldn’t protect their men?

The day the ship came to take Axel it was quiet. 

“Promise me…”

“Anything.”

Axel pulled their foreheads together in a keldabe. They stayed that way for a minute, neither speaking. Fox breathed deeply but even he could tell it wavered. 

“Do everything, everything in your power to make sure this doesn’t happen again,” Axel said stiffly. 

There was a tightness in Fox’s throat that he hadn’t felt since that day on Kamino when he said goodbye to Prime. When the rain dripped down his face like streaks of blood. 

“Ni kelir.”

His brother’s lips twitched fondly, “You will, won’t you? You probably already have a thousand plans made…”

Axel cleared his throat, “And…”

“Anything, vod.”

Axel wrapped an arm around the back of Fox’s head. His voice was so soft, “Take care of yourself, my brother.”

“I…will,” Fox had to swallow tightly. 

Axel’s eyes shined as he pulled away. His helmet was clipped to his belt and in slow motions, he removed it and held it out. 

Fox’s hands shook as he took it out of Axel’s grip. 

“Ni ceta,” Fox whispered. 

Axel shook his head with a small smile. Gently, he reached forward and pulled Fox’s head towards him. Their foreheads rested together one last time as Axel muttered, “The only person you need to forgive is yourself.”

“I can’t.”

“You will, it’s my last wish and you said you would do anything.”

Fox stayed quiet, for once he didn’t trust himself to speak. All too soon, Axel pulled away and Fox could tell it was the last time. His muscles ached with the urge to reach forward again. 

Wet streaks stretched over Axel’s cheeks. Just like Lucky’s as he laid in the dirt of Geonosis…It still didn’t look right in Fox’s opinion. Axel took a step back and smiled. It took every bit of Fox’s strength to return it. 

“Nu kyr'adyc, shi taab’echaaj’la,” Fox whispered. 

Axel nodded gently, “Just marching away,” he said softly, “I-I’ll see you again Fox. But…I can wait a while alright?”

Fox’s lips trembled. All he could manage was a nod. 

“Ret'urcye mhi.”

“…Goodbye…”

…

Fox spent every waking hour he had in his office. Thire, Stone, and Thorn covered his guard duties and he couldn’t be more grateful to them. He had to keep working, he had made a promise. Plans and strategies raced through his mind faster than they ever had. He had his slicers working overtime, but they told him they wanted to help. 

He had to keep working, it kept him occupied and if he wasn’t occupied, then his mind drifted too easily to the image of wet trails pouring down his vod’s face. Too easily to phantom touches and unidentifiable moans that echoed in his mind and made him want to claw his skin until there was nothing left. 

Fox grabbed the helmet that wasn’t his own, his datapad and marched to the mess hall. “Is everyone ready?” he asked through his comm to Stone and Thorn. 

“Affirmative.”

As Fox strode into the mess hall, the Guard snapped to attention. He had managed to get most of his men here for a few minutes, the rest listening through comms on patrol or on prison duty. 

“At ease,” Fox barked. Stone and Thorn came to stand on either side of him. 

“Brothers!” he spoke sharply and clearly, “With our new duty in the Senate, an unfortunate consequence has also arisen. As you know, Lieutenant Axel was decommissioned without probable cause and evidence by Senator Drellin of Hosnian Prime.”

His voice only shook a little and he couldn’t help but be proud of himself. Whispers broke out around the hall but Fox didn’t have the heart to shut them down right now. 

“For this reason, I have worked to recreate our Senate guard patrols and duties. From this point forward, you will never and I mean never patrol without at least one other trooper with you. You will never give your chosen name to any natborn. That includes the senators, it includes the admirals, and it includes the Jedi generals. Am I clear?”

“Yes, sir!”

Fox couldn’t be bothered to temper the sharp edge of his voice, “You will never refer to each other by your chosen names outside of this base.”

“Yes, sir!”

“Every day, before you step out for your patrol and senate duties, you will check your datapad for the CT number you have been assigned. Should you be asked to give your name by any natborn, you will give them this number. It will change every day. Should you be slated for decommissioning or believe you have committed even the slightest of infractions, I order you to contact me, Commander Thorn, or Commander Stone immediately. I can protect you, but only if you let me.”

He took a deep breath before continuing to speak, “The natborns can’t tell us apart if we don’t let them,” he thought back to the evaluations trick when he was still just a cadet. “Therefore, every single one of you will wear the exact same armor color and pattern. You will never remove your helmets outside of your barracks and if you are forced to, everyone will have the same hair. I understand that this is difficult, but any way in which you stand out is the perfect way for the natborns to target and single you out. I will let you all decide on the armor pattern and style that you want but once it is decided, anyone under the rank of sergeant will wear that armor and only that armor. Am I understood?”

The responding “Yes sir,” was a little less enthusiastic this time. 

“You will tell no one even your batchmates of this development. Am I understood?”

“Yes sir…”

Fox sighed, “I am truly sorry for this development. We stand on a battlefield in which blasters and fighting won’t solve anything. The only way in which we can survive this is if we are clever,” he glanced over his men, meeting eyes with the ones he could, “and we will survive this.”

The affirmation and faux confidence in his voice made some of his men sit up straighter. He was glad to see some of them gain that spark in their eyes back. 

“Sir?” one soldier at the front raised their hand. 

“Yes, Cloud?” Fox responded. 

Cloud swallowed, “If we do get slated for decommissioning, how will coming to you help?”

Fox nodded, “We have set up a firewall to catch any transmissions and messages to Kamino from the GAR and senate. Anything will have to go through my desk before it can be processed by Kamino. If your false number has been set to be decommissioned, I can create the false paperwork to say that you have been decommissioned to give to the natborn, while also making sure word never reaches Kamino. That number then won’t be used anymore and I’ll create the paperwork to introduce new ones into the system with every rotation.”

“Isn’t…isn’t that going to give you a lot more work, sir?” Cloud asked. 

Fox stared him down. He had made a promise, “And? I will do it,” he looked up to face all of his men, “I’ll do it a thousand times over to keep you all alive.”

Finally, the uncertainty and confusion that weighed down the room turned to resolve. Fox watched as his brothers’ backs straightened and their fists tightened. They didn’t have much in this galaxy, but they did have each other, and as long as they could survive, they could one day see the vercopa. 

After all, what good was a CC unit that couldn’t protect its men?

The weeks following proved that the one thing Drellin couldn’t do besides respect the vode was shut his mouth. Decommissioning orders without proper evidence were sent to him nearly every other day from a variety of senators. When he was able to calm his men down enough to speak, it was always a transgression that ranged from ‘didn’t come when I beckoned’ to ‘looked at me oddly.’

Drellin was the worst of them, though luckily Fox had had no more complaints about drinks. Especially since he had taken the time to research and teach his men the exact differences between different types of alcohol. Sometimes he wondered what had happened to him, if this was what the kaminiise intended for him. But then again, this was the situation he was in and he would do anything to keep his brothers alive. 

Drellin would always ask about the soldiers he ordered to be decommissioned, and Fox would always answer in gritted teeth that his order had been fulfilled. 

The senator would then tut with a condescending look and say, “Death comes for us all,” as some sort or morbid apology. 

(Then he would sometimes do other things, but Fox pushed those out of his mind.)

The system worked though. Through the altering numbers every day and the interception of the messages before they could reach Kamino, he could stop the decom orders from ever reaching the long-necks, and also make the senators think the order worked. It was deception. It was against every regulation that had been drilled into him since he was a cadet. 

And he would still do it a thousand times over to save his brothers. 

Fox would bear the constant stress and anxiety that weighed heavily on his shoulders and made them slump when no one was watching. He would bear it and continue to bear it as long as he was able to see that relieved look on his brother’s face when he told them they were safe.  He would bear the questioning looks and the knowledge that it was his life on the line should anyone find out. He would bear the exhaustion and the constant wish to close his eyes and sleep. He would bear the moments when Drellin called him to his office with the white walls and so-called ‘art’. 

Fox leaned back in his chair and opened the bottom drawer on his desk. He held Axel’s helmet in his hands with a gentleness he didn’t know he was capable of. 

“It’s working Axel,” he whispered to the helmet, “I’ve been keeping my promise.”

Fox sighed, “I’m so tired vod. I don’t think I’ve slept more than an hour a night for the past few weeks. There are so many decom notices, I don’t get it. It’s like as soon as they found out they could do it, they all decided to go on a power trip.”

“Yeah, you always know what to do don’t you, mir’sheb? Ha, if you’re so clever, why don’t I just promote you? You want to fill out more requisition forms?”

“Hmm, maybe you could keep Thorn in check, but I doubt it. You know he just says whatever he hears the natborns say? He told me and Thire that we should light up on a patrol and what he meant was connect our comms,” Fox snorted softly. 

“Don’t even pretend that you’re different. Besides, Thorn’s an easy vod to love. You on the other hand…”

“Fine, fine, maybe you’re easy to love too.”

“You’re the easiest? Definitely not, that’s Lucky… Yeah, I know I’m right. He’s still writing his book, you know? He’s going to publish it once we live Prime’s vercopa. And Group B are now saying they want the most expensive drinks I can find, I’ll keep saving up. I have a decent amount now if you can believe it? So many people just drop credits and act like it’s too much of a hassle to bend down and pick them up.”

A tightness appeared in the back of his throat, “I don’t understand Axel…she said she was going to stop the decoms. She swore it. I guess once she got to Kamino she decided to agree with the kaminiise about us… I’m glad I didn’t say anything to her that day. She’ll get what’s coming, they all will.”

“I hate them so much Axel. And they have so much influence over my batchmates…no they don’t really talk to me anymore. I think they’re busy…”

“I’m confused vod. I don’t understand what D-Drellin’s doing. I don’t like it,” his voice lowered to a whisper, “I don’t like what he’s doing either. He asks me about strategies and tactics in a hypothetical manner, and I answer because I’m a good soldier, but I feel like I keep seeing them described on the reports. I don’t like what he makes me see and—”

His datapad pinged with a message. 

“I’m sorry Axel, I have to go…yes, I’ll keep taking care of them. I made you a promise vod… please stay with me…”

Fox set Axel’s helmet back down in the drawer. It echoed with a hollow, dead thud, entirely void of the soul that had once to inhabited it. 

That annoying tightness arose in the back of his throat again. 

I miss you so much. I’m so sorry.

Moving quickly, he cleared his throat and opened the message on the datapad. It was coded, which was a precaution the slicers had created, and let him know that it was another message to Kamino from the GAR or the Senate that the firewall had blocked. He sighed and rubbed his eyes, before putting up protections and opening the message. 

To esteemed Prime Minister Lama Su, 

I am General Plo Koon of the 104th battalion. Though we have not personally met, I must commend your impressive abilities in the creation of The Grand Army of the Republic. I have found the men under my command to possess the utmost skill and determination. The unique character in which each of them have been able to foster, despite the challenges they have faced, is nothing short of extraordinary. I am not afraid to say that they have saved my life many times and I am privileged to have such men working with me to end this galactic conflict. 

My reason for drafting this message is sadly not for such reasons. Recently, my battalion met the unfortunate company of the sith assassin Asajj Ventress and while many of my men fought valiantly, they were overwhelmed. Among them, was Commander Wolffe, my first in command. I have known no such soldier to be more capable than he, nor no such man to possess more constitution than he. In the mentioned conflict, Commander Wolffe received an injury to the right eye from a lightsaber that has left him blind in that side of his vision. You will be pleased to note that the Commander is recovering well, but will ultimately require surgery. I am writing to formally request the equipment for this surgery to be sent to Venator 53421-C as soon as possible, with all funds and payment of course handled by the Republic. No further assistance will be needed besides the correct prosthetics fitted to the clones. I appreciate your cooperation in this matter. 

Ever in your debt.

General Plo Koon of the 104th Battalion

Fox was truly beginning to despise this datapad. 

His hands shook, Wolffe was injured? His fearless older brother who always had more attitude than he knew what to do with was blind in one eye? And it was by that hut’unn assassin too. Of course it was by a lightsaber, take away any of those blasted force user’s toys and they wouldn’t stand a chance. 

There was more that the letter wasn’t saying. It reminded him of the edited Foreword in The Tactics of the Mandalorian Wars: A Complete Study of the Revanchist’s Revolutionary Strategies. Wolffe was ‘overwhelmed’ but left alive? That didn’t sound like any good assassin Fox knew. Wolffe was ‘injured in the mentioned conflict’ but hardly any actual detail was brought up…

Torture. 

Why else would Wolffe be overwhelmed, but still alive? Why else would he have such a specific injury that was probably to cause pain and nothing else? Was Wolffe alright? How long had he been hurt for?

Fox felt sick. His older, protective, stubborn, fearless, brother was injured and tortured to the point of being half blinded.

And that stupid, idiot, di’kut, or’dinii, jare’la shabuir that called himself a jetii had messaged fucking Kamino for help? Did he even realize what he had done? Fox gritted his teeth as he reread the message, full of little passive aggressive remarks and notes and sarcasm. Did that or’dinii think the kaminiise were idiots? That they wouldn’t notice? Wolffe would be ordered for decommissioning within seconds of them reading this message, if for nothing else than as punishment for the General’s words because he had a clear fondness for Wolffe. 

Fox wanted to scream and at the same time, he internally thanked anyone that was listening for being able to catch the message. Were the Jedi incompetent in everything they did? It was truly shaping up to seem like that. 

As always, Fox would clean up their messes. He forced himself to calm down and focus, and with trembling fingers, he copied the contents of the message to his datapad and then deleted the one from the firewall so that it would never ever come even close to the kaminoans. He created the requisition form for the prosthetic, wrote the payment record as already covered by the Republic (it was already in so much debt, what was another expense), and signed off on the requisition form, before sending it, and the record, along with about 300 other requisition forms that he had been preparing anyway. The paperwork was signed off on, the prosthetic would be sent to Wolffe as if the kaminoans had agreed. If they looked, it would be hidden within all the other forms and he knew the kaminiise cared more about their experiments than the paperwork. If one of the vode saw it, he knew they would keep it quiet. 

Fox slumped against his desk and buried his face in his hands. Wolffe would be alright, or at least, he wouldn’t be decommissioned. What an absolute or’dinii the General was. Did he even have any idea how much danger he had placed Wolffe in? All to get a few jabs in at the kaminiise? Jedi couldn’t understand what it was like when you held no power. When you weren’t able to fight because any action that didn’t completely and utterly comply would mean either your death or your family’s death. They were arrogant like that, he realized. 

Wolffe and him hadn’t spoken much since they had been deployed. In the cold of his office, he suddenly realized he missed the way his older brother used to hold him close until he fell asleep, certain that the horrors of their reality couldn’t hurt him as long as Wolffe was protecting him. 

Wolffe hadn’t wanted to speak much since he had lost nearly all of his battalion. Fox could understand it… but he still deeply missed his brother. Surely one call wouldn’t hurt? Especially now. 

Fox didn’t understand why his hands trembled as he reached for his comm and called Wolffe. It was his older brother, the same one who corrected his form when he threw a punch, and performed a leg sweep. The same one who used to tackle him to the ground and tickle his sides until he couldn’t breathe in the brief moments when the trainers left them alone. The same one who would push himself in front of Fox when the kaminiise inspected them. The same one who may have been rough at times, but was also fiercely protective of him. 

The comm connected. 

Fox held his breath, “Wolffe?”

There was a faint groan on the other side, “Mm? What?”

“Wolffe, are you alright?”

There was no answer. 

“Ori’vod?”

“Fox?”

“Yes. Wolffe I—”

“I must still be hallucinating,” Wolffe muttered. 

Fox thought back to what he had learned on Kamino about Wolffe all that time ago. Wolffe liked when he was argumentative, when he fought back a little, only enough to be amusing so that Wolffe could humble him.

Fox changed his tone, “Think again, di’kut.”

“What are in these meds? Hallucinations sound too much like annoying baby brothers these days…”

“I’m not a baby, I outrank you,” Fox’s lips twitched up. 

There was a rustling sound on the other side of the comm, and Wolffe’s voice became a little more alert, “Ik’aad gets praised once and suddenly thinks he owns the galaxy.”

“Can I order you to shut up?”

Wolffe snorted, “Maybe, if I actually cared about all that osik.”

“That’s treason.”

“Force, why are you so annoying?”

“What are you going to do about it?”

“Probably embarrass you on the sparring mat, yet again—” 

Wolffe’s voice cut out. The reminder that he was injured sat heavily in the silence. Would he ever be able to spar again? The prosthetic would work, but it still had limits. 

“I…I heard about what happened,” Fox said nervously, the banter dying down. 

There wasn’t a response. 

“How are you holding up?”

“Is that why you called?” Wolffe’s voice was a little sharper. 

Fox said softly, “I wanted to know how you were doing. I…I’m sorry I haven’t called sooner, I’ve been really busy.” The excuse sounded pathetically weak to his ears and he winced. 

Wolffe sighed, “I’ve been… well I could be a lot better I won’t lie. Kriffing sith…”

Sith. There was that word again. Fox didn’t know much about them except that they were the apparent opposite of the Jedi. If one hurt his brother though, they couldn’t be good.

And the Jedi who killed 25,000 of your brothers in only one battle are apparently good?

“I’m sorry,” Fox said softly. 

Again, there was no response. 

“You…you’re going to be alright though ori’vod. You won’t be decommissioned,” he said that statement a little stronger, this he was sure of. If it were solely up to Wolffe’s idiot general than maybe things would be different but—

“I know, general said he would handle it. I’m more worried about…after,” Wolffe finally replied, an uncharacteristic vulnerability in his voice

Oh right, the general would handle it. He would handle it with all the subtlety of a charging acklay. Hypocrites or hypocrites in denial. 

Fox didn’t like the defeated sound in his brother’s voice. Wolffe liked it when he was argumentative and right now, all he wanted was for that easy banter to return.

“Well, if you want me to go easy on you when we spar from now on, I guess I could do that,” Fox said, trying to hide his own vulnerability under his teasing voice. 

The beat of silence that followed was a little too long and Fox felt himself tensing. He was about to speak again when Wolffe interrupted. 

“What the hell Fox?”

Fox almost immediately panicked. If he were wearing his helmet, he knew his HUD would be screaming at him, telling him to calm down. 

“I-I mean—” he started. 

“What the hell? I’m not going to be invalid,” Wolffe’s voice was biting. 

“I know!” Fox hastened to agree. Wolffe liked when he was argumentative, why wasn’t this working? “Sorry, I just thought—”

“Well, I’m glad you would lower yourself to accommodate to the likes of someone like me. We can’t all be nice and safe and bundled up on Coruscant,” there was a venom in Wolffe’s voice that he had never heard directed at him before.

Fox swallowed, Wolffe was probably just frustrated and in pain, “Ori’vod, I didn’t mean it like that—”

“Speaking of which,” Wolffe started again, “how did you even find out about this?”

Fox’s eyes widened. Did Wolffe not know what he even did? Did he not bother to find out? Fox felt a flare of irritation, he had done research into every single one of his brothers’ generals, made sure that they had the supplies they required from the requisition forms for where they were going…and Wolffe never even considered him?

“I have to review the reports after every battle,” Fox lied, but if he hadn’t found out from the caught message, he no doubt would have seen it in the eventual report. 

The silence that followed was so tense Fox began fidgeting slightly. How was it that he could stand for hours unmoving in the Senate dome, but not for a few seconds while speaking to his older brother? 

Wolffe spoke in a low, dangerous tone, “So you’re telling me… you knew what happened to the 104th after Abregado, and you didn’t say one kriffing word to me?”

Light irritation turned to anger. He had heard what happened, but he was in the middle of organizing patrols that went on for too long and dealing with the Chancellor and those images in his mind, and he also knew one thing: 

“You wouldn’t have liked what I had to say,” Fox shot back. 

“I don’t like anything that comes out of your mouth now, so by all means, go ahead.”

Fox huffed angrily, “If General Koon had given the order to retreat instead of attacking—”

“Shut the kriff up,” Wolffe snarled, “you have no idea what it was like out there.”

“Maybe not,” Fox replied angrily, “But if I was tracking a secret weapon and my transmissions were jammed and I knew I needed reinforcements, I wouldn’t order an attack I would regroup just like we were trained to do. Just like you were trained to do. I don’t know why you suddenly think your general can’t be blamed—”

“Oh fuck off Fox, I’m sure it’s easy for you to say what should have been done after it’s already happened.”

Fox grit his teeth. I saved you he wanted to shout. General Koon would have gotten Wolffe killed with that message to Kamino. “Actually, it’s quite easy for me to strategize and extrapolate on given information rather than rush in and get our brothers needlessly killed.”

“Sure, you were good at the little simulations but out here is completely different. General Plo has seen that and has helped us while all you’ve done is sat around and turned into a spoiled, little brat,” Wolffe’s voice wasn’t shouting, but it didn’t need to in order to sting. 

“Since when do you think your general a kriffing natborn understands you more than me?” Fox was incredulous. 

“Since he became the one by my side all the time, and not just when he conveniently remembered!”

“I told you that you wouldn’t like what I had to say and you made me say it anyway,” Fox stressed, “You’re just looking for a reason to be upset with me.”

“I hardly have to look to see what you’ve turned into Fox. How’s vacation on Coruscant? You drink with the Senators and Chancellor and laugh about how much we’ve screwed up and how you would do so much better? Do they tell you what a good little clone you are? Do they reward you with—”

Fox slammed his hand down on the button to end the call. 

In the wake of the silence that surrounded him Fox rested his head in his arms. Phantom touches ran up and down his body. He remembered Wolffe holding him close when he was still just a cadet. He remembered pale hair, whispers in his ear, on his knees and arms holding him down when he still felt like just a cadet. He felt an odd sense of dread, like the one when he had when General Yoda first rejected his plan on the way to Geonosis. 

Fox sat up and pushed his datapad away. He had patrol soon, he had to take care of his men. He had made a promise. 

After all, what good was a CC unit that constantly needed validation from its brothers?

“CT-6632 of the 41st sir.”

CC-1010 nodded his thanks to Hound, who for once was acting stoic. Grizzer at his side also sat quietly. Thire handed a datapad to him with the trooper’s records. CC-1010 scanned it for a moment before giving it back. 

CC-1010 inspected the body of the clone. The wound had come in the form of a quick strike to the back of the neck. He looked at the jagged, black edges around the bleeding wound and the faint smell of burnt flesh. The weapon was clearly a vibroblade. 

Judging by the jagged edges of the wound, it was also dull. The blade had not cut through the spinal cord cleanly. It pained his heart to know that this brother had died slowly and in pain. 

The alleyway was quiet save for the steps of his brothers. The neon lights created words in Aurebesh that reflected around the dark alleyway. The pavement was slightly damp with liquids that CC-1010 didn’t want to think about too hard. He walked up and down the cramped space, noting the small chip of green paint on the side of one of the buildings. 

“You have anything?” Thorn’s voice was, for once, also professional. 

“A little,” CC-1010 replied, noting how the old footprints of the trooper were uneven in the tracks of the liquids on the ground. 

Thorn tapped on the datapad, ready to write. He looked up at CC-1010 expectantly. 

“Weapon was a vibroblade. The criminal came from behind, probably after noticing CT-6632 heading in here alone,” CC-1010 stopped walking for a moment, “It was a civilian who did it.”

Thorn stopped tapping on the datapad, “How do you know?”

“Wound is sloppy, the weapon was clearly dull, and the trooper has no record of ever being a disturbance,” CC-1010 relayed quickly. “This was only his second time on Coruscant according to his deployment records.”

Thorn nodded and went back to typing. 

“How would he not notice a civilian behind him?” Thire spoke up, “Even if he didn’t hear it, his HUD would have told him.”

CC-1010 sighed, “He was drunk.”

Thorn stopped typing again. The constant looking up and then down would maybe have amused him in different circumstances. 

“How the hell do you know that?” Thorn’s voice cracked. 

“He was stumbling, his steps show that he wasn’t walking straight and he ran into the wall at some point—it scraped some of the paint of his armor off. That’s why he couldn’t tell a civilian was behind him, and why he was overpowered by a blunt knife,” CC-1010 explained. 

“He was probably at 79’s,” Thire mumbled. 

CC-1010 jerked to stare at his brother. “What do you mean?”

Thire kicked at the dirty ground and avoided looking at him. CC-1010 narrowed his eyes and continued to stare him down. 

Thire only lasted a few more seconds before speaking up, “It’s a bar. The owners are fine with the clones so a lot of the vode in the GAR go there when they’re on leave.”

Thorn stopped typing, “Since when?”

“I’m not sure, but for a few months at the very least.”

“So…” Thorn asked, “How do you know that? Kriff, that’s all I say when I’m around you two,” he mumbled. 

“I’ve gone a few times alright? My batchmates invited me and I was curious,” Thire insisted. 

“I’m not mad,” CC-1010 shot back, “I’m more just confused. Drinking? Not just you but every clone that’s been? I don’t remember any point in which we were trained to want that.”

“I think it’s at the recommendation of the Jedi to be honest sir,” Thire replied, and there was still that hint of bitterness in his voice when it came to the Jedi. “They want their men to act more like natborns than troopers.”

CC-1010 nodded but decided not to continue the conversation. He could tell just by glancing at Thire that his brother was keeping something from him. Thire probably hadn’t kicked the drinking habit as much as he said he did. It didn’t matter to CC-1010 though, whatever his brother needed to get through this hell, just as long as he didn’t but himself in danger. 

“Do we have a motive?” Thorn asked. 

“To put on record? No.”

“In actuality?” 

CC-1010 couldn’t help how his shoulders slumped a little, “Prejudice.”

Thire and Thorn froze while Hound finally looked up from where he was petting Grizzer. 

“Prejudice?” Hound asked, “Why would they be prejudiced against us?” Grizzer barked lightly in agreement. CC-1010 could swear those two were able to communicate somehow. 

He sighed and thought to what Amidala had said, “They don’t appreciate the war, and look at us as a symbol of its propagation.”

There was an uncomfortable silence as this was digested. They had always run into the common thugs and criminals and bounty hunters on their patrols, but never something like this. The citizens of the Republic were technically their superiors. Like the senators, there wasn’t a lot they could do to defend themselves without being reprimanded by the Senate or worse, the Jedi. CC-1010 would really like to avoid the Jedi right now. 

“Thire,” he started, “contact the other marshal commanders and tell them to implement a ban on that bar you were talking about.”

“Sir…” Thire replied hesitantly, “I could do that, but the only thing that would happen is that their men would find a new bar, or potentially wander into places that are far less safe. If we allow them access to 79’s we have a decent idea where most will be and can stop this before it happens again.”

It was yet another duty that would fall to them. CC-1010 could see how it could be tied into others though. If any of the senators saw one of the GAR wandering around drunk the decom order would come faster than hyperspace. And, because the GAR weren’t in on his process that protected the Guard, they would be decommed and he wouldn’t be able to do a thing about it. 

CC-1010 sighed (he was doing that a lot), “I see your point. We also need to keep them away from the senators,” he passed for a moment, thinking, “Thire, Hound, and Grizzer round up a few troopers on patrol and get them up to speed. Patrol around the bar you were talking about and if any troopers leave intoxicated and are causing a disturbance, bring them to cell F5, the larger one. I’ll comm their commanders to come and get them later.” 

Thire nodded, “Thank you vod, I know that they’ll appreciate it,” he said and then hurried off, Hound and Grizzer following behind. 

Once they were out of sight CC-1010 began drafting up a message to Gree about the murdered trooper. He started slightly when he felt a hand on his shoulder. 

“Fox,” Thorn whispered, even though they were on internal comms. CC-1010 glared at him for using his name but Thorn simply matched his stare. 

“I know what you’re handling isn’t easy but, you’re doing a good job alright vod? The Guard, we all trust you. I trust you, and I appreciate what you do. We all do.”

Fox sighed and in that moment he felt absurdly tired. He missed Wolffe like an ache that never went away. His older brother hadn’t made to contact him again after their last discussion. He missed Axel and he missed Lucky and he missed CT-6632 even though he had never even met him. 

He missed when he was that little cadet who was so happy simply by having his brothers around him. 

Fox leaned forwards and rested his head against Thorn’s shoulder. Thorn gently wrapped his arms around Fox’s body and held him close. They must have made a strange picture: two brothers embracing with the weight of the galaxy on their shoulders, while the mangled corpse of one of their own sat beneath them. 

Fox didn’t think about it too hard. After all, what good was a CC unit that couldn’t keep going?

Fingers snapped twice. CC-1010 ground his teeth together as he quickly walked forwards and placed the flask in Drellin’s hand. He winced as a ringed hand connected with the side of his helmet sharply. 

“You could stand to do it quicker, Commander,” Drellin snapped. 

“Yes sir.” 

“Are you upset Commander? Throwing another tantrum because I use you as anyone uses a product?” 

“No sir.”

“Aw, is the lab rat sad that the other products can’t perform properly?”

“No sir.”

“Death comes for us all.”

“I understand now sir.”

“That’s all you ever say,” Drellin’s eyes were bloodshot as he took another swig from the flask, “pathetic wet droid. Next time I order you to enjoy it.”

“Yes sir.”

“Get out of my sight.”

CC-1010 bowed and quickly left the apartment. He hurried out of the senate building, wanting nothing more than to collapse onto his cot with Stone and Thorn next to him and sleep for the next few years. 

There were a few troopers in armor painted brown that were wandering around the ship yard when he approached the military base. No doubt one had just been picked up from cell F5 after being a drunk public disturbance. CC-1010 kept his helmet on and resolutely ignored their furious glares in his direction. The arrests were for their protection. They glared at him the same way the natborns on the street sometimes did, like he was something to be hated. It didn’t bother him. It didn’t. 

He was surprised when he saw Hound leaving base just as he was entering. Grizzer jumped up and put her front paws on his thighs, slobbering slightly on his kama.

“Are you out for patrol now?” he asked Hound. 

“Nope!” Hound said brightly, “Grizzer’s just been telling me that today is a good day to go outside.”

“Right, of course, I should have known,” Fox replied. Hound nodded enthusiastically before whistling for Grizzer to join him. 

As he walked off, Fox vaguely heard him speak, “Level five Grizzer? Are you sure? No—I’m not scared just—fine, let’s go!”

Fox huffed softly before continuing into the base. He was greeted with an enthusiastic “Hi Commander!”

“Hello Angle.”

The clone at the front desk had his helmet on, but Fox just knew he was wearing a crazed smile underneath it. 

“Commander,” Angle continued as Fox fumbled through his utility belt to find his key pass, “What do you get when you combine a senator from Tatooine and a rainbow fur tooka?”

“I’m not sure, Angle.”

“A Hutt Jedi!” Angle exclaimed and then started laughing hysterically with his head thrown back. 

Fox tried to force his lips into a smile under his helmet, “Oh ha, I get it.”

Angle stopped laughing as suddenly as he started, “Wait you do? Explain it to me then!”

Fox stared at him, “You told it.”

“That doesn’t mean I get it!”

“You were laughing?”

“Oh I was, wasn’t I?” Angle sounded a little clueless before he burst into laughter again. 

“Maybe get some sleep Angle,” Fox said as he swiped his card and entered behind the ray shielded doors. 

“Thank you, you too sir!”

Fox shook his head in bemusement as he walked down the winding hallways. He passed straight by the room that had his cot and instead entered his office. After throwing his helmet and gloves onto the desk, he sat down on the chair and began massaging his temples. 

He had been a good soldier today. He had met with Palpatine who had asked him more about potential strategies for the Separatists. He had answered well, Palpatine had been impressed. His head hurt. 

Fox glanced down at his wrists, blissfully free of anything abnormal. He couldn’t get the image of small worms wriggling just under his skin, through his eyes and mouth, and gnawing on any bit of flesh they could find out of his mind. He rubbed his wrists absentmindedly. 

Sleep, that was all he wanted but he couldn’t, not yet at least. There were more decom notices to sort through, angry messages from other commanders about having to pick up their drunk men, demands from the senators, requisition forms, mission reports, death counts, supplies shipments, patrol routes, prison transfers, planetary security measures…

Fox opened one of the drawers of his desk and pulled out a stim shot. They had become his salvation recently. He plunged the syringe into his arm without a second thought and tossed it into the bin he kept near the door. 

As the effects began to take over and Fox felt his eyes open more and his hands begin to shake, he picked one of the datapads up and started working. 

He hadn’t been working for very long when his comm pinged. With a heavy sigh, Fox marked the point where he had been reviewing one of his security measures and looked at it. 

Incoming call: CC-411

Fox’s breath hitched. What did Ponds want? They hadn’t spoken since practically the start of the war. Was it about Wolffe? Fox didn’t want to ever speak to him again. 

He sighed and attempted to brush his curls back into something reasonable quickly. They had been too messy from hands running through them and pulling and—

Ponds. Ponds had liked it when he was professional, when he was taking care of himself and wasn’t messing around. His older brother always had a preference for when Fox thought about things a little deeper, in a philosophical way. 

With that thought in mind, Fox very hesitantly accepted the call, “Ponds?”

“Fox. How are you?” the cool, casual voice of his older brother made Fox’s chest tighten. He hadn’t realized how much he had missed it. His hands shook and the rest of his body trembled. 

“Fox? You there?” 

He missed that voice so much. His throat constricted and he panted slightly, “I’m here ori’vod. W-why are you calling?” 

“I wanted to check in, it’s been a while.”

Fox waited for the inevitable finish to that sentence. He was sure he was about to be scolded. Scolded for Wolffe, scolded for being stationed on Coruscant, scolded for not calling earlier. When it didn’t come he simply sat at his desk in disbelief. 

“Y-you wanted to check in? W-with me?” Fox asked quietly. 

“Yes? I’m sorry I wasn’t able to call sooner, it’s just been one campaign after the other,” Ponds’s voice became a little concerned. “Is everything alright?”

Is everything alright? When was the last time someone had asked him that question. The answer “fine” was on his lips but a lump rose in the back of his throat. He was so tired. 

Fox gasped quietly, “No,” he said miserably.

“What? Fox what’s wrong? Tell me what’s going on, now.”

He was supposed to be professional, he was supposed to be able to please Ponds like a good little brother should. He was weak though, in that moment he simply couldn’t muster the energy. 

“I’m so tired ori’vod. I have so many things to do and I’m so stressed all the time,” his voice trembled dangerously. 

“Alright, alright, calm down Fox, it’ll be fine. Take a few deep breaths, tell me what’s happening,” he could tell Ponds was trying to stay calm and so he breathed deeply. When he finally had himself under a little control he spoke again. 

“Ponds, there’s this senator. That is—the senators, they’re not good Ponds, they don’t—they’re not good for the Republic and there’s this one senator and he—he’s not good either but he tells me to be good, like a good boy but he’s—he tries things and, he drinks so Axel couldn’t, but they’re there Ponds, there—under my skin—”

“Fox, stop.”

His stuttering came to a halt under the command. He was a good soldier, just like the kaminoans said he had to be. 

“What’s gotten into you, soldier?” Ponds sounded stern, like he was commanding his men. Fox realized in that moment that the tone didn’t work again. There was a part of him that wished it still did. 

“Why aren’t you listening?” Fox mumbled in misery, “no one ever listens…”

“Fox’ika,” the nickname made him stop his mumbling, “I’m listening, talk to me please.” Ponds sounded much more gentle all of a sudden. Fox wished he was closer, wished he was next to him and not halfway across the galaxy. 

“This senator,” Fox said softly, “he does things to me Ponds. I don’t like what he does.”

“Can you describe what he does Fox?” Ponds responded just as softly. 

“I don’t want to. It’s…I don’t think it’s right Ponds,” Fox finally sounded less hysterical, and now just resigned. 

“Alright Fox, it’s going to be fine. You’re safe, no one will hurt you.”

If only that were true. 

“Fox’ika,” Ponds said in his silence, “Is there someone near you? Thorn? One of your other brothers?”

“You know Thorn?” Fox asked incredulously. 

“Of course, you think I wasn’t going to check who my little brother was working with?”

Fox felt touched, especially after his conversation with Wolffe, “…Thank you ori’vod.”

“Listen vod’ika,” Ponds rarely ever called him that, “I know things might be difficult, you probably have a lot of responsibilities don’t you? Handling an entire planet, but I can tell you’re doing well. I’ll be on Coruscant soon, Windu is insisting we take some leave.”

The name of Prime’s murderer made Fox tense up. Luckily, Ponds left it at that, and Fox was able to push it out of his mind with Ponds’ next words. 

“I’ll come see you then alright? You can tell me more, we’ll figure this out, I promise.”

“Thank you,” Fox said weakly. 

There was the sound of chatter on the other side of the comm. “I have to go Fox’ika, but I’ll call again tomorrow. I’ll call everyday until I can see you in person.”

“I…I would like that,” Fox replied. 

He could hear Ponds’s smile, “Good. Hang in there, alright soldier? I’ll be there soon.”

“I will.” 

“I expect nothing less.”

The comm clicked off and Fox was in silence again. He took a breath before opening the datapad again and reading from where he left off. He had no intention of going to Thorn or anyone else, he didn’t need to burden them. Already he felt a little guilty about unloading on Ponds, but he found that he actually felt a little better. Ponds had paid attention to him and what he was doing, had commed him voluntarily, was going to again tomorrow, and was going to visit him soon. Fox felt his lips twitch up slightly at the thought of seeing his ori’vod again. 

It shouldn’t have been a surprise when Ponds didn’t call back the next day. He didn’t feel disappointed, he should have expected this. 

And then, in the next days, he sat down at his desk, opened his datapad and saw the death count from General Windu. Saw the number CC-411 at the top of the page. 

Fox burst into laughter. He cackled hysterically with his head thrown back into the silence of his office where no one was there to hear him except for the parasites under his skin. He was still giggling as he signed off on the report and moved to the next one. 

After all, what good was a CC unit that needed others?