Chapter Text
This was a huge fuck-up.
Fox was always prepared, always ready to deal with anything Coruscant would throw at him, anything that Chancellor Palpatine would deem worthy as his punishment. But this, Fox didn’t know how to fix.
He hadn’t been present—both a curse and a blessing—but now felt overwhelmingly like a curse.
How things could have gone so bad…
A senator had started a bar fight over something trivial, as they often did. Two Guard troopers had been off-duty and in the bar, got involved, trying to help. One of them had called it in.
By the time Thorn got there with his squad, one of them had been dead, the senator gravely injured and three civilians hurt too. If it had stopped there…, but it hadn’t.
Thorn had figured out the bar fight had been instigated to hide a kidnapping in progress. Once this fact had been revealed, the mercenaries had not held back.
Three troopers died in the vicious fight that followed. The senator had been there with two of her friends, one a daughter of another senator and the other some rich Coruscanti. Both died in the blaster-fire. The mercenaries had brought detonators and had had no qualms with using them in a crowded bar.
The skirmish had ended with twenty-seven dead, other fifty-five injured. The mercenaries had been ready, a group of six. Two had survived the shoot out and had taken the senator, the kidnapping a bloody success.
That had been when Thorn had managed to spare a few seconds to call in reinforcements—Stone and his squad.
They got the senator in the end, but the mercenaries’ shuttle had crashed over the streets of Coruscant, doing significant damage. She survived but was still in a critical condition the last time Fox had checked. The total damage had mounted to nearly a million credits. The shuttle had totaled a few luxury boutiques on the way down.
“I’ll watch you, Commander,” Chancellor Palpatine said, his back to Fox as he gazed out of his office window, the night on the city planet never fully dark, the light-pollution casting odd shadows on his face. “Carefully,” he added. His words remained neutral, cordial even. Fox knew better.
Palpatine sighed heavily and turned to him. “The two squads responsible for handling the incident will be decommissioned. Their commanding officers too. Such a lack of skill and incompetence have no place in the Guard. You understand, of course.”
Nine troopers per squad. Eighteen lives snubbed with a single sentence. Less, since not all had survived the attack.
And their commanding officers.
Thorn and Stone, each with a squad of their own. Stone shouldn’t have been on duty but had been still awake at the time and had reacted the swiftest to Thorn’s call for backup.
A sinister smile formed on the Chancellor’s face. “The citizens of Coruscant deserve the best, don’t you thi—”
Fox fired from his blaster, the weapon in his hand in a split second, the movement so deeply ingrained in his muscles. He didn’t think. He snapped.
Palpatine had to be gone. There was no other choice. Nothing else would save his brothers. The two people he loved and trusted. Fox had read the reports, pored over them. They had done their best. The situation had been fucked from the very beginning.
None of his troopers deserved to die for this. Some of them had already perished, had done their duty. This was not fair.
The chancellor evaded his attack with ease, but his eyes widened for a moment, betraying his surprise. Fox had taken it all, the emotional abuse, the threats, sometimes even physical punishments, for the two years he had served here. Sending his brothers to death and thinking Fox would once again let it happen, that was Palpatine’s last error.
But the surprise didn’t last long. Palpatine laughed, gleeful. Horrifying. He laughed and laughed as if the two blasters aimed at his face were nothing. As if Fox was nothing.
And Fox was absolutely fucking done.
It couldn’t continue. Palpatine had too much power, power he so willingly abused, setting a twisted precedence for the senators as cruel as him. Only they did not have to hide it much, and didn’t, knowing that there would be no punishment for them, no consequences.
So what if they made the clones’ lives a living hell? Their people on the far away planets would never hear of it. It would not change the elections, the views of their people.
Palpatine’s support of the abuse from the background and his own silent cruelty worked hand in hand. All the suffering of Fox’s brothers… all Palpatine’s fault.
If Fox died, so be it. He didn’t care as long as he took Palpatine with him.
Fox was fast with his blasters. Firing a shot after a shot. Five shots in, the Red Guard reacted to the noise and stormed inside the spacious office. An elite force, but Fox liked his chances against them. His two hand blasters against their staffs. He wouldn’t let them get close.
Things never worked as Fox envisioned them.
Three guards dropped dead, his shots hitting true. He holstered one blaster and grabbed the staff that aimed at his head. He pulled it forward, messing up the guard’s momentum. He lifted it up for him, along with his hand and blasted him in the chest from the side.
The Chancellor always had eight of them around. They would be joining the fight soon. Fox had to make this quick. He whirled around and started shooting at the Chancellor anew.
But all his shots missed—impossible. Fox was a good shot. The dead guards were clear proof of it. He wasn’t just good. His aim was impeccable. The chancellor should have been dead five minutes ago, with that first shot he had taken.
The next blaster shot stopped in the air with a lazy flicker of the old man’s hand. Another impossible thing. Fox allowed himself a quick moment of stunned silence, frozen where he stood, and then his training returned to him.
Only a Force-user could do that and Fox had no doubts about which side Palpatine belonged to. Powers like this, the old lore of the Jedi and the Sith had been a part of the bed-time stories on Kamino, shared between cadets when they should have been long asleep. Fox’s commander batch had been no different.
Being made to serve the Jedi, the clones had been taught about them, had filled in the rest about the other side from old tales they found when a gifted cadet sliced the depths of the HoloNet or from listening to their Mando trainers.
Fox knew all about the Jedi, had reluctantly looked forward to working alongside people so noble and skilled, and then he had ended up leading the Coruscant Guard. The presence of the Temple meant nothing. Fox had only briefly worked with the Jedi.
He sometimes wished he could work with the Jedi, as much as they sounded like pain in the shebs. Skywalker was annoying, from his experience, but all the GAR revered the Jedi and the one time he had spoken to Master Yoda, Fox had been amazed by the short and wise Jedi. The encounter had stuck with him.
But the Jedi were busy out there at the frontlines of this war.
And Fox was left with Palpatine.
The frozen blaster shot pulsed in the air. Palpatine let it hit the wall with a chuckle. Two more guards rushed in. Fox had to turn his back to Palpatine to deal with them.
He killed one more, but the second one, his shot had ricocheted off the red helmet. Fox had been rattled and slipped, the automatic headshot not working. And it wouldn’t have, he knew, but had forgotten.
The guard forced him into defensive but Fox was not the most highly-decorated soldier in the GAR for nothing.
The guard was incapacitated soon enough. The last two got in but Palpatine dismissed them. They took position at the door, blocking Fox’s only exit once he was done.
The Kaminoans had taught them all about working alongside Jedi—meant they had showed them all the powers they had and a strategic mind like Fox’s could turn it around.
The earliest batches, Jango had trained too. Had trained them how to fight the Force-users too.
Fox grabbed a staff and kept firing at Palpatine, wishing he had a slugthrower or a fire-spitting weapon that wouldn’t be so easily deflected. He got close, barraged him with hit after hit with the stolen staff.
Palpatine dodged with ease, too nimble for a man his age. The Force, of course, added in agility. But Fox managed to hit him twice. The one where he had managed to distract him with the staff, dropped his blaster and put his fist to his cheek had been especially satisfying.
Fox held his own against Palpatine, but he had a feeling the man wasn’t using his full power. Hadn’t even drawn a weapon yet. He toyed with Fox and he enjoyed every second of it.
After his next hit landed with a crunch, Palpatine’s brows furrowed and Fox was pushed back with an invisible force and barely kept his balance. The wall that hit his back sure helped. Now he was down to one blaster and a vibro-blade hidden in his boot. And his fists. A head-butt would hurt Palpatine more than him, too.
Rapid steps outside the door alerted everyone. The lack of guards outside must have seemed suspicious to whoever that was.
Fox had overstayed his welcome. His time had run out—this was supposed to be a quick meeting, Palpatine would throw out his threats and punishments and Fox would have taken it and that would have been it.
Only it hadn’t gone that route.
His next appointment was here. The screaming voice coming from the outside was familiar. Jedi Knight Skywalker. Kriff.
More concerned and raised voices—Senators Amidala and Chuchi.
The Jedi barreled in first, shouldering past the guards, his lightsaber already drawn. “Chancellor!” he shouted, eyes wild. The two senators followed behind him, more cautious.
The change was swift and brutal. “Anakin, my boy,” Palpatine wailed like some old frail man, clutching a hand to his chest. A bloody trail flowed from his mouth, dripping down his chin. Fox must have loosened a tooth with that one punch. “This clone, he—” He fucking stumbled over his robes.
Fox saw red. The Chancellor always did this, always played an innocent man. Weak when he was anything but. And people fell for it. Every single time.
“Help me, Anakin,” he said, casting a quick glance at Fox who saw the gleam in there, almost yellow or perhaps gold. The fucker. With the number of dead guards on the ground, it didn’t look good for Fox.
Fox had no plans to fight two Force-users, knowing his odds were rapidly worsening. He wondered if this was how Thorn had felt during the incident that had set all of this into motion.
When the Chancellor opened his mouth to speak again, spew more lies, no doubt, Fox unholstered his blaster, feeling the strain in his muscles after such a long fight, and fired.
Palpatine had not expected it, so convinced in his act and in the fear he had held Fox in. He didn’t account for Fox’s desperation. Fox wouldn’t let the Chancellor talk his way out. No more lies.
Then he shot again, no hesitation. Palpatine had to die and stay dead. One never knew with the Force-users. Even Skywalker wasn’t fast enough.
Four hits, head and torso, landed before Anakin was at him and cut the blaster in half, clean through. Chuchi was screaming and Amidala yelling at the remaining two guards.
Palpatine was finally dead.
And Fox would follow him soon. He had no more blasters, but he still had some fight left in him. He bent low and out of Skywalker’s ‘saber range. Not that it did much. The Jedi was quick now, and close.
Skywalker went for a killing blow, one that Fox had no way of dodging, with the wall at his back.
“Wait, please!” Riyo Chuchi shouted from somewhere in the Chancellor’s office. All Fox could see was the bright and pulsing lightsaber in front of him. “Anakin, t-there must be an explanation.”
It was enough to halt Skywalker. Fox released a breath. Unlike Skywalker and Amidala, Senator Chuchi had no close personal relationship with the late Chancellor—as far as Fox knew.
Fox had talked with her a few times, in his limited professional capacity. After Cad Bane had attacked, after the Zillo beast incident. And a few others. He didn’t treat the senator any differently but he respected her and she showed him an equal amount of respect. For him as the commander, but as a person too.
Fox liked her. Most clones liked her. She was co-operative, could hold her own in a crisis. She didn’t cause problems. Of course all the Corrie guards liked her.
Their previous interactions must have saved him here—Fox had been able to make an impression of her from them, of her character, and she must have of his in return.
Riyo Chuchi knew him well enough that when she saw him murder the Supreme Chancellor, the integrity of his character told her that he wouldn’t snap for no reason. Fox would have to thank her once, if he lived long enough after this.
She was right, too. Fox did snap but for countless reasons. Picking one would be difficult. The one from this week was simply the catalyst.
The last two Red robes rushed in, spurred by Amidala into action. Skywalker had trapped Fox, had grabbed his vibro-blade with the Force too and discarded it. It was over. Fox let the two guards grab him by an elbow each. Once Skywalker backed away, Fox saw Chuchi a step behind, arms raised half-way, eyes wide, as if she wanted to help but didn’t know how.
He turned toward Palpatine and where Amidala now crouched next to his body, head bowed, her mouth muttering something quiet. Perhaps a prayer from Naboo. Fox didn’t give a shit. The Chancellor’s robes still smoked from the blaster fire. What a sight. Fox took a sick pleasure in it, so glad.
The chaos would not stop for a while, a service droid just rushed in and talked a mile a minute in binary. Skywalker was eerily quiet now too, the lightsaber still lit, his other hand forming a tight fist. Judging by the furious look behind his welling eyes, things did not look good for Fox.
Skywalker had never liked him much.
Probably because of Senator Amidala and the constant danger she was in—and Fox failed to predict and prevent. Much to the surprise of them both, Fox knew about their little thing. He knew about everything important in the Senate or on this city-planet.
Skywalker couldn’t think that he would be able to get away with sneaking into her residence, with Fox’s troopers all around, did he? The clones weren’t useless, far from incompetent.
Fox had allowed it to continue, judging Skywalker to be of no danger to his wife. Otherwise, it would not have been happening. The standing order to the clones on duty around Amidala was to look the other way when Skywalker showed up for a surprise visit.
He was dragged away and arrested. An outcome far better for what he expected when Palpatine had let him see his Force abilities.
.
The Coruscant Guard was responsible for the prisoners too, so having their leader be the one in that role proved rather problematic. The higher-ups scrambled to get anybody but clones to stand guard over his cell.
Fox understood the reasons but hated it. If he was to be decommissioned soon, at least he could have spent his last few hours around his brothers.
He didn’t even get a single day. Fox napped in his prison cell for a bit and was woken up rudely before the sun was up. His inner clock told him he had slept for about three hours only. He could tell by how much caf his body craved.
The procedure was familiar, Fox had helped design the steps of an emergency in case the Chancellor was in danger or killed. He had to laugh at the whole thing. An interrogation would follow, but if it had been anybody else, Fox would be the one doing the interrogating.
As it stood, he expected to be led further down the prison halls, to one of the interrogation rooms dedicated to this purpose, with one-way mirrors and special droids. Instead, they left the prison altogether.
Outside, a clone squad awaited and Fox visibly relaxed at the sight of Commander Thorn. The transfer went by without an issue. Thorn was serious, as he could only be on duty. He grasped Fox by the elbow, seemingly helping him board the shuttle. And while Fox may not have felt more than a light pressure, it was grounding and welcome.
Inside and on the way, Thorn explained. “The Jedi requested to speak with you.”
He nodded, having no doubt they were conducting their own investigation. After all, Skywalker had been present and wouldn’t leave this be.
By the time the shuttle arrived at the Temple, the dawn started, bathing everything in golden hues. A Temple guard walked Fox and his retinue of soldiers all the way to the top of the Temple.
As they walked, Thorn leaned in closer. “I owe a million of favors to other clones and the prison guards for this. To be here.” He put an arm on his shoulder, firm and strong, and reassuring. “Whatever happens now, vod, I’m here.”
He wouldn’t face his sentence alone.
The guard led them to the Jedi Council Chamber.
Fox supposed he should have expected some level of grandeur. Killing the Supreme Chancellor was no small matter. He didn’t want to face the entire Jedi Council, all gifted with the Force, during his interrogation. Not because he had things to hide but because it made him vulnerable and too open, his control of his emotions gone when others could simply feel them too.
Four troopers waited outside the chamber, two walked in after Fox and Thorn but stayed by the door too. Only Thorn accompanied him now to the center of the circular room. Fox should have focused on the beings present, but his gaze shifted to the wide transparisteel. The arising light cast over the skyline of Coruscant almost made this shithole of a city look pretty.
Pretty enough for his last moments. Stars, he had killed the Chancellor of the Galactic Republic—it still didn’t fully register. Whatever reason he had for it, if he could even prove it, wasn’t important. A clone versus a chancellor.
He recognized some of the Jedi. Obi-Wan Kenobi’s holo-projection over his chair, Yoda—that made him feel slightly better about his chances—Skywalker was here too, not sitting but standing behind the chairs, Amidala at his side. The current Master of the Order sat in his chair. His stern look didn’t seem promising.
Another familiar face greeted him from a holo—Shaak Ti. Fox had never personally met her but he had listened to enough shinies rave about her to be able to tell this was her.
Two more Jedi sat in their specific seats. He didn’t know them. Not too many, then. On such short notice, they couldn’t get more for the interrogation.
The on-going war effort spread the Jedi numbers thin.
Another friendly face would have been welcome, but Senator Chuchi wasn’t among the tribunal. Fox had not been out of it with anger or anything like that. He could recall every moment of the fight with perfect clarity. He was only alive now because of her.
By the looks of it, Skywalker was still ready to pounce and get his revenge. Didn’t seem like the Jedi way, but Fox wouldn’t tell that to a Jedi, to his face.
The Nautolan Jedi spoke first, perfectly calm and serene, “Could you remove your helmet, trooper?”
Despite the tone, it wasn’t a request. Fox took his helmet off. They could sense him, now they wanted to see his expressions. He wasn’t too happy about it, but it made sense. Not that Fox would lie. He had no reason to.
His brothers would be safe from now on. Nothing else mattered to him.
Mace Windu, the Master of the Order, steepled his hands in front of him. “If you’d please start with your name, position, and describe why you were with Chancellor Palpatine yesterday.”
He had asked nicely, said please, but Fox’s brain blanked for a second, the request so similar to when Palpatine had asked him to give his reports. Fox straightened, his face turning to stone. “CC-1010, Commander of the Coruscant Guard.”
Windu frowned, as did most Jedi, but it was what it was. His official name was his designation number.
They didn’t interrupt him. Thorn’s grip on his shoulder tightened for a second.
“I arrived to our meeting as scheduled. Chancellor Palpatine informed me that the two clone squads along with their commanders who handled the incident at Zlaty Bar and the attempted kidnapping of Senator Ilkal Li Lant would be decommissioned because of their incompetence. I could not accept that,” Fox reported. He was good at that, concise and to the point.
“We could have found a solution,” Shaak Ti said.
Skywalker shook his head, as he had been doing the whole time Fox had been speaking. “The Chancellor wouldn’t do that without a good reason.”
“He would,” Fox snarled, finally losing his composure. “He did. Many times.”
Shaak Ti sighed. “I’ve been trying to end the decommissions. Turn them into retirement or something of the sort. It’s a horrible practice the Kaminoans had set up. I know the GAR statistics. The Coruscant Guard troopers are constantly ranked among the best and the most effective, yet their decommission rates are the highest.”
Windu took it in silently, Fox had the feeling he was the one officially running the interrogation, as his high role among the Order suggested. He didn’t react emotionally, logical about the matter. “Was the Chancellor the one signing the decommissions?”
Right. That would leave proof. “No,” Fox said. “I did.”
The silence was deafening.
“Why?” one of the unfamiliar Jedi asked.
Fox wanted to laugh. “The Chancellor wanted it.” More silence followed. “He was the Chancellor. The real GAR leader. I had to do it.”
“Commander…” Shaak Ti said, the sadness palpable in the air. But Fox would not break. He stood tall, his hands and feet chained.
Skywalker missed the memo, no sadness projecting from him, instead, pure anger. In four big strides, he was in front of Fox. He would have gotten all in his face if Thorn had not stepped in front of Fox in the last possible second.
“Anakin,” Kenobi called after him, indignation and worry worming into his tone. Fox knew the man had served as Skywalker’s master.
“He-he’s making these accusations!” Skywalker’s voice rose. “And you’re just letting him! What proof do you have of this? You what? Been here for two years? You barely knew him. How dare you? That man worked so hard, so hard to keep the war victories on our side. He kept the Republic together. Stepped up when it was needed. He was a good man!”
“Sir, uh, Master Jedi,” Thorn stepped in with some nervous hesitation but determined. “Respectfully, the chancellor was nothing like you describe him.”
“And who are you?” Skywalker was too angry, beyond reason now.
Obi-Wan sighed loudly. “Let the man speak, Anakin.”
“But, Master—”
“Let him speak, Skywalker,” Mace Windu said.
“It’s not even his interrogation!”
A cold look from Windu shut him up. Windu looked at Thorn. “Commander?”
“Thorn, sir.”
“Commander Thorn, what do you mean?”
So Thorn told them. About the darker stuff happening behind the scenes of the Senate. About the abuse and daily humiliation the clones had to face. Only Thorn did not have the ability to be concise and his speech was riddled with emotional declarations about the injustice of it all, his own examples of what he had been through thrown in.
Fox knew about all of it but bowed his head, not happy to have to relive it again. Thorn always came to him, as many of the Guard troopers did, even if Fox could only provide a shoulder to cry on, no real solutions. Listening to Thorn recount it hurt him too.
“What proof, do you have?” Yoda asked, his voice pleasant and curious, not accusing like Skywalker’s.
“If I may,” another clone that stood by the door said, taking a step closer. “It’s true. Ask any of the Corrie Guard and they’ll confirm it. Most of us have similar stories to tell.”
Windu turned to Shaak Ti. She shook her head, forlorn. “I have not heard of this. As soon as the clones leave Kamino, I have no further contact with them. The Coruscant Guard troopers are no exception.”
“Commander Cody tells me much the same,” Kenobi piped up. “According to him, the Guard is separate, somewhat cut-off from the most.”
Skywalker floundered. “That’s the senators, not the Chancellor.”
Master Windu shook his head. “See the bigger picture. The senators follow an example and there must be a reason why none of this was ever reported.” He turned to Fox in a silent question.
Fox nodded. “We tried, in the beginning, and quickly learned that was not the way. The blame never fell on the senators, but on the clones. Reporting was more dangerous. We learned to… tolerate it.”
“By the Force,” the Nautolan Jedi whispered.
Yoda nodded sadly too. “A darkness has been spreading. Found it, we have.”
“Master, you can’t be serious!” Skywalker turned to him.
His tone got him a disapproving glare from Windu.
“Serious, I am. Your relationship with the Chancellor, close has been, young Skywalker.”
“Of course it was! He took me in as much as Obi-Wan did.”
“He did?” another Jedi asked.
Fox had a bit of a hard time following the rapid and emotional conversation that followed, totally unrelated to him. Turned out that most of the older Jedi here thought that Palpatine had groomed Anakin, his close attention odd. Fox watched it unfold, feeling sorry for Skywalker despite everything.
He glanced at Thorn who had stepped back to be at his side.
Thorn shrugged. “Let them talk it out,” he whispered to Fox.
Anakin still refused to see the truth. But there was one major fact that all these people were missing. Fox cleared his throat, used to getting the attention of his troopers and demanding it if not. Most everyone turned to him. “If it helps, he was also a Sith.”
Now that got everyone’s attention. The Nautolan Jedi stood up from his seat, mouth gaping.
Kenobi who had faced a Sith before, was the most outspoken, “How do you know? How are you sure?”
Fox told them what had happened during the fight, described Palpatine’s abilities. All of that before Skywalker and the rest had walked in. Now, he found why Senator Amidala was there—to give her own recount of the events.
Yoda asked her to do so. She did and all of it contradicted Fox’s claims.
Fox took in a deep breath. Of course. “Palpatine did that a lot. He was like two different people. And you were not there for the most of it, Senator.” He had to point it out, even if it was obvious.
“It would explain some things,” Yoda said.
Windu nodded. “We had a suspicion. That something was on Coruscant. A warning from the Force we couldn’t understand.”
Skywalker had gone mute from shock about ten minutes prior. Fox doubted he was still listening.
“Thank you, Senator Amidala,” Windu told her. “Kit, would you please walk Anakin to the mind healers’ section? You are free to accompany him, Senator, the Temple is open to you for as long as you’d like.”
It was the politest dismissal Fox had ever heard.
The Nautolan Jedi, Skywalker and Amidala all left. The Jedi’s faces have gone from sad to troubled.
With Palpatine being a Sith, people would be slightly less against Fox, might even understand, think he had done the right thing. Especially the Jedi would understand the dangers a Sith Lord meant. Still… They weren’t big on murder.
The other Jedi Fox still had no clue about spoke when things settled and the door closed. “We should look through the chancellor’s things. If he was truly a dark-sider, the Force will reveal it.”
“Quinlan should be on Coruscant now, have him do it,” Kenobi recommended.
Windu nodded and turned to Thorn. “Would you be able to compile…” he waved in the air— “a list? Names, incidents, old reports. Any proof of mistreatment you can find. There will be a trial and the Jedi won’t be a part of it, but if we can help, we will.”
“It will take time,” Thorn said, then cringed. “There’s a lot.”
“Time Commander Fox might not have,” Shaak Ti said and it warmed Fox to know that somebody like her knew his real name. “With a chancellor dead, they will want to make an example of him,” she continued and the warmth quickly evaporated.
Fox inhaled sharply. He had known this. And still, hearing it said out loud by somebody so revered as this Jedi…
“Stall them, we shall,” Yoda said and hopped down from his chair. He approached Fox and a sense of calm washed over him, making him momentarily forget the cold fear over his imminent execution that had gripped him moments ago.
As a soldier, Fox was ready to die on duty, to sacrifice his life for any of the senators if needed. But this was all too real. No honor in it.
But he had done it for his brothers and could not find a smidge of regret.
Yoda’s presence drove the thoughts away. He leaned on his cane. “Fought the Sith alone for far too long, you have, Fox. No more.”
“The Jedi Order will do what we can,” Mace Windu affirmed.
It wasn’t a solution but it was enough. If Fox had to die, so be it, he was no stranger to consequences.
His crime and death, however, would both spark something that could not be stopped. The Jedi now knew of what the Guard faced daily. They had a war to fight but they would not forget them—the Jedi didn’t ignore beings in need, no matter how difficult the situation.
Fox had given his brothers a beginning. A hope for something better.
Things were in motion. Palpatine was dead. And Fox had won.
.
Riyo had a full glass in her hand, something non-alcoholic Mon had handed her earlier, but couldn’t drink it. She put it back on the low table when her hands kept trembling.
Padmé had called for an unofficial meeting and told them what had happened during the Jedi’s interrogation. She had spoken to Master Kenobi later as well who had filled in the blanks about what the Jedi would try to do next.
It wasn’t some top-secret information but he trusted her to keep it close.
These people here, Padmé trusted them all equally. Bail, Mon, Riyo herself, and two other senators Padmé had known for a while because of her extensive political career.
“Many will doubt the Jedi. Their reputation is not what it’s once been,” said the oldest senator here, one of another Outer Rim world like Riyo. He had his arms crossed over his chest, a frown, or what appeared to be one for his people. It was hard to tell with Klatooinians.
“Thanks to the Chancellors influence, no doubt,” Bail said before he sighed. Their eyes had been opened to it now. Perhaps too late.
They all shared guilt for not noticing sooner, especially Padmé who had been close to Palpatine. Riyo’s own guilt was more concerned with the clones and how she had missed it.
But had she? Riyo had seen fellow senators trip up the troopers, ask them to deliver caf or such things. Small things. She disliked it but had not said anything. She had a share in this too.
The senators had to do something now, not only the Jedi. Their little group gathered here would not have much sway. Bail, Mon and Padmé had political power, thanks to the planets they hailed from, but against the thousands…
Surely many would join them, but those the clones accused, well, those would be in no rush to side with them. In no rush to suddenly develop a conscience.
“I have a suggestion,” a senator spoke up. She was new to the Senate but not to politics. She was middle-aged but had all the right passions, her enthusiasm for justice and rights unparalleled. Clever ideas too.
“Yes?” Mon asked with hope in her eyes.
“An arranged marriage.”
The others gaped at her.
“What? It’s brilliant,” she defended. “The Republic senators have diplomatic immunity, do they not? And it extends to their spouses.”
While that was true, the unspoken thing remained—which senator would marry the clone?
No other senator who wasn’t here would be convinced to do something of that magnitude. On a personal level. While arranged marriages were not a forgotten practice on many worlds, this particular case would bring scrutiny and a lot of attention on the individual.
They looked at each other.
Most turned to the one who suggested it. “Oh, afraid not. My wife would be against. Our world deals in strict monogamy.”
Mon Mothma and Bail were both already married. Both common knowledge. Mon never talked about her family much, though she hosted many events in their opulent Coruscant residence. It had been an arranged marriage of some sort too, Riyo recalled.
Bail would not stop talking about his wife if he could help it. Any event that was not related to work, he would mention Breha. It was sweet how enamored he was with her still.
The Klatooinian had married into a royal family on the world his parents had brought him to when he had been young—it was quite the romantic story actually—and couldn’t exactly bring in a new spouse without a major dispute, even if it was technically allowed.
Padmé got shifty, enough for the others to notice.
“Padmé, are you alright?” Riyo asked her.
Her head lifted with confidence, any sign of the shiftiness gone. Her expression screamed not to ask questions and just take it. “I’m married too. I can’t reveal to whom. There are reasons.”
Nobody asked, a chorus of ‘Of course, of course.’ all that greeted her.
They didn’t push, but they all turned to Riyo.
“We know you’re still young, and, well…” Bail tried.
At 19 years old, Riyo was young. She felt like her few years in the Senate had aged her by a decade, though. The war, the conflict with the Talz. So many things had happened to her since she had left Pantora to represent her people here.
Bail looked at her with such sadness in his eyes. “I’m unsure whether we will be able to find another senator willing to do this.”
It was Mon who ended their impromptu meeting. She had been sitting next to Riyo on a plush sofa and now put a hand on her knee, patting it gently. “Take a day to think about it. We’ll meet again then.”
But did Commander Fox have a few days for her to think?
.
Riyo thought back to their meetings. Not many, but enough to be able to judge him as a person.
The one that stuck out to her the most was during the Zillo beast attack in the city. Like most of the senators, she had still been in the Senate when it had all started. Desperate to find a safe place, Riyo had gotten lost in the lower levels of the Senate building.
Commander Fox had been the one who had found her and helped her to real safety. He had walked with her, kept her calm and safe. One moment they had been walking, the emergency lights flickering in the halls, and the next he had pushed her to the side and got hit in the shoulder by some debris when a piece of the ceiling had collapsed. It could have been much worse without him there.
Another rather stark memory because of the sheer adrenalin that had coursed through her during the time, was when she and Padmé had been out in the city, getting a lunch together. The risk of being friends with somebody as influential as Padmé Amidala was getting caught up in the incidents involving her.
Riyo couldn’t recall now whether they had wanted to kidnap her friend or kill her, all she remembered were the hands grabbing her and forcing her out of the high-end restaurant, all the other patrons screaming around them.
A squad of clones had arrived before the assailants had been able to get them both out of the restaurant. Riyo had found courage within at the sight of the familiar red and white armor. She had kicked the man holding her and ducked away. Commander Fox had shot that man right away.
Her ears had rung and she had been disoriented from the loud bang but soon, Fox had been near her, pushing her to the ground and near the wall, shielding her with his own body while his squad had gone inside the restaurant’s entry hall and took care of the rest.
One of Riyo’s personal Pantoran guards had died in the shoot-out, and Riyo had had a hard time for a while, grief-stricken. Commander Fox had visited her two days later, coming to check up on her. It had been sweet and unexpected and told her a lot about the kind of man the commander was.
Not all their interactions had been part of a life-threatening plot or a disastrous attack.
Once, when Riyo had had a little too much of the Chandrilan wine during a gala, way too late, her own aids long dismissed for the night. Commander Fox had noticed her stumbling down the corridor—it had taken her embarrassingly too long and too much effort to stay upright—and had offered to help her walk to the shuttle. He had waited with her till the shuttle had arrived and had listened to her ramble about some bill she couldn’t recall now. She suspected he might have actually paid attention too.
He had referenced the talk a while later.
They had shared a few lovely conversations when their paths had crossed in the lifts. Sometimes they had gotten interrupted by other people which made Fox stop talking, a mask of indifference and distance falling upon him. It had never stopped Riyo from talking to him, though.
Over the years, the small and random interactions piled up. Riyo always made sure to greet him when they met. With his kama and his helmet, she recognized him easily.
Riyo couldn’t recall every single of those meetings now, not with how busy she was day-to-day and how many people she interacted with, but not a single memory of him carried a negative feeling or experience.
She couldn’t say a single bad thing about Commander Fox. He had always been perfectly nice to her, if a little distant. Only getting more honest and talkative after a while and when it was just them.
It had only been three hours since she had talked to the other senators, since this idea of an arranged marriage had been proposed. Already, Riyo had decided. She was willing to do it.
He was nice to her, a marriage to a man like that wouldn’t be that bad. And she could help him too, save his life—that mattered a whole lot.
Riyo understood why he had done it, although she would not have gone to such an extreme measure herself. He had been pushed to his limit and had done it to save his brothers. At the time, it must have seemed like the only solution.
Thinking back to his quiet strength, how good he was at his core, marrying him didn’t feel like such a big sacrifice. Eventually, they could even be friends. Riyo already thought they had been on their way there.
She laid down to get some sleep, her chrono telling her just how late she had stayed up, when her personal comlink chimed. Fearing the worst, she immediately checked it.
A message from Bail awaited her. His contact in the Coruscant Guard informed him of the sudden change. Commander Fox’s trial had been rescheduled for 10 am the next cycle and they did not expect a good result.
Whatever they wanted to do, it gave them only about 9 hours to do it.
Well, Riyo had pulled many all-nighters before. She got out of her comfortable bed, turned on her expensive caf machine and woke up her two aids. There was work to do.
She commed Bail to let him know she would do it. She would marry Commander Fox to save his life.
.
Fox was thinking of doing some squats, maybe a plank, to keep himself occupied in the cell, when he heard steps coming in his direction. Two Guard troopers stopped in front of him.
Shinies, by the look of their armor, only the barest red accents to distinguish their belonging to the Corrie Guard.
“Sir,” one started, even though Fox didn’t think he was still a commander, “in the light of the new facts coming to view, you are being released,” he said, voice professional and official. Once, Fox would have taken into account his armor details to be able to keep an eye on his potential.
The other unlocked the cell, the energy field falling. They waited for him to step out. “This way, sir.”
Fox glanced at him. “I know.”
“Right, sir. Of course, sir.”
He wanted to sigh. Now this was a shiny through and through.
Fox waited for them to speak more. What facts were they referring to? He had killed the Chancellor, there was no way around it.
“Your fiancé is waiting for you outside,” the professional trooper said.
After two seconds, Fox nodded.
“Very impressive, sir. But uh, that’s Commander Fox for you,” the other clone said with a happy voice, a hint of a nervous laugh in his tone. “How you kept it a secret for so long, wow.”
“Tty,” the other clone sighed, more exasperated than angry. Batch-mates, probably.
“No, really, sir! It makes sense, too. A senator and a clone, you don’t see that often. Ever.”
Fox listened without answering, waiting for them to inadvertently reveal more information. From the corner of his eye, he saw the trooper giving the ‘abort mission’ signal to Tty who stopped talking.
Fox wanted to ask, had a million questions, but he was smart and knew when to keep his mouth shut. Whoever was waiting for him, they were his way out of here.
The troopers left him at the exit, their duty ceasing here. Fox was no longer a prisoner then. A senator pretending to be his fiancé? If he was right about where this plan was heading, he would soon have diplomatic immunity. No need for a trial.
Thorn held on to his helmet, Fox unwilling to let it get lost in the prison back-rooms. Now, he stepped out of the building and into the rain. It poured into his eyes and drenched his curls in seconds. Of course the morning looked like this when he was released. Like Coruscant itself getting its revenge.
The whole city was dark and grey with it but he could make her out anywhere. The blue skin, the fair hair, all the gold on her, she shone in contrast to it all. Riyo Chuchi.
