#Senator Palpatine's apartment suite | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

marierg · 11 months

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Of Light and Darkness: The Rising Darkness

Pairing: Obi Wan Kenobi X Reader

Rating: T - mentions of death and violence

WARNINGS!: Cannon typical violence, foul language, mentions of injuries, death, drugs, drinking, stress, angst, anxiety.

A/N: I take no credit for the movie dialogue that is all the work of the wonderful Mr. Lucas!!!! THIS IS A LOVING WORK OF FANFICTION!!! With that said I did take more than a few liberties but I tried to pull from the film and meld it into a cohesive piece. Much love to all the prequels and the folks there in!

PS- Lotta pics in this one cause I needed references and I like 'em.

Picture Credit: Lucas Film and Pinterest

Words: +4K

Masterlist Next

“Merciful Force please hear me,” As you ran through the Senate building your mind was racing, “Let her be alright please.”

Rounding the corner to the Naboo platform docking station you could clearly see that Senator Amidala was indeed upright, however you could also sense the pain she was in. Finding the Captain whom had called waiting to the side, you signaled him to join you in the vom.

“Thank you for coming, she refused to go to the hospital.” Captain Typho worriedly looked out to his charge. The Senator was one of the bravest people he had ever met, but she should be taking better care of herself. “You'd think the others would listen since she was almost killed.”

“My dear Captain if there is one thing I have learned it's that fear causes one of three responses: fight, flight, or freeze. You're just fortunate enough to have a fighter.” Gathering information while waiting you couldn't help again shaking your head at this mess. Planets, hell whole systems breaking off from the Republic and declaring independence. You never thought to see a dark day like this and as a keen student of history well knew the precipice upon which the Senate found itself. As the session came to an end Captain Typho ushered all of you to the Naboo offices.

As soon as the doors closed you pulled your friend in for a hug, “Next time we'll just go for a cup of Kaf and skip the whole first aid pretense.”

“I find healers come more quickly if they think you're dying.” Padme squeezed you back, hating that she had scared you. “Hows the hospital running? Have they built everything to your liking over at the training center?”

“Later, right now I need to check you over.”

Pulling out a scanner you found no breaks, fractures, nor internal bleeding much to your relief. However the younger woman did have several flesh wounds where shrapnel had tore through her flight suit. You healed her better than new then made her sit and eat, finally answering the questions of earlier. After the mission on Norte the RRC had petitioned for funds to improve the training building and equipment, Padme had not only signed but presented the petition to the Senate budge committee.

It hadn't taken long for the two of you to become close, you often wondered how many years of friendship had been absent because you hadn't stayed in touch. Though she never asked outright you would keep Padme appraised of what was going on at the Temple, especially Anakin. You hadn't told Anakin any of this though knowing he still harbored a deep affection, it was wiser not too. Although you did notice that when your apprentice's name was dropped your friend's face gave a glimmer of a smile or a blush.

Having no other pressing business, you decided to stick around and make certain Padme returned to her apartment safely. You took a flanking position as she headed for the Chancellors office for one last meeting. It was impossible to not overhear the discussion as you all entered the anteroom, several of the Jedi Council members were present along with Chancellor Palpatine.

“-we are keepers of the peace, not soldiers.”

You couldn't hear the Chancellors next statement, but Master Yoda's response was clear enough, “Worse than war I fear...Much worse.”

Padme gave you a questioning look, you held up a hand to see if there was more to hear.

“Impossible to see...the dark side clouds everything. But this I am certain of,” Yoda paused and clacked his cane for emphasis, “Do their duty, the Jedi will.”

As the door opened Master Yoda walked over to greet Padme as the committee entered. The old Master known for his steady and calm demeanor exuded concern. Padme was insistent that Count Dooku, the new Separatist leader and a former Jedi, was behind the attempt. Your own Master didn't want to believe the line of thought, insisting that the threat seemed to originate elsewhere. Master Mundi and the Chancellor pointed out that the Count was politically idealistic and had always sought diplomatic resolutions in past.

Still your friend persisted. “I don't know, but everything in my being tells me he was behind it...”

The Chancellor looked about the room and settled on you with a half grin, “Master Jedi, may I suggest that the Senator be placed under the protection of your graces.”

Seeing the look of annoyance on Padme's face caused you to hastily hide a grin. Oh if there was one thing the woman hated it was to be considered weak. Starting to protest the Chancellor cut Padme off, sympathetically but quite succinctly. Though you were never quite comfortable in his presence it was fascinating to see Chancellor Palpatine at work. He was both charming and direct while also holding his emotions closed so as to never give his opposition the upper hand.

“I realize all too well that additional security might be disruptive for you, but perhaps someone you are familiar with. Old friends like... Master Kenobi and Master L/n?” The senior statesman looked pleadingly at you then back to Padme, in a way seeming older and more tired. Taking her hands in his own, the Chancellor gave them a protective squeeze. “Do it for me, M'Lady, please. I will rest easier. We had a big scare today.”

Padme pursed her lips guiltily, “I'm sorry Chancellor. Sometimes my passions outweigh my judgment.”

The Chancellor raised her hands giving them a paternal pat, “Would that all our representatives were so dedicated. But you must consider the risks to yourself, and so I must insist on this. The thought of losing you is unbearable to me.”

Master Windu looked to where you stood at the back of the room. As the other Jedi left he beckoned you over. “I was unaware that you and the Senator were friends?”

“A few years now, she's not going to take us hanging around very well.” Finally able to let out a chuckle. Seeing the unamused look on your Master's face, you continued along the hallway passing on what Captain Typho had reported. Master Windu was not fond of politicians, but this seemed beyond his usual discomfort. “Are you more upset that she has accused a former college or because you have to tolerate the Chancellors presence?”

He raised an eyebrow at the question, “Am I so transparent?”

Chuckling a bit you glanced up, “Only because I know you Master. Can't say as I blame you either, that man is … off putting at times.”

“I do not like that a former member of our ranks has been accused. Dooku and I may have had our disagreements, but the thought that he could have fallen so far.” Reaching the speeder lot he paused before climbing in the transport. “You knew Master Dooku from your time as an apprentice. What is your perspective?”

“You may not like the answer.”

“Truth is often distasteful,” Mace watched you grimace, “But a necessity.”

Leaning a hip on the side of the speeder, you pursed your lips contemplatively. “It is not out of the realms of possibility that Master Dooku could have done this. From the few interactions I had my impression was that he could be cold and calculating. Of course my experiences were limited and mostly involved saber sparing.”

Mace chuffed, “As I recall you were not fond of those tutorials.”

“He was still a great teacher,” you started to pick at the hem of your sleeve, the nervous tick had never left you. “Naboo is a pivotal planet in the Senate that could work to the favor of either side. With Senator Amidala out of the way the Count could easily sway her replacement. This could become more than just a protective assignment.”

“If it comes to that then the Council has full confidence of your abilities. However if that is the case do you feel that your Padawan is capable of protecting the Senator?” Mace watched as you chuckled in your throat, nodding in the affirmative. He well remembered the fondness the boy held for the Senator, but he hoped that both your studious and dutiful natures had worn off on the boy. “Then I can only hope that he will not become easily distracted while you and Kenobi solve this little dilemma. The sooner the better.”

“Of course Master, I wouldn't want you to languish in political turmoil for long.” You laughed seeing him glare at you. “Swear on my oath as a healer, we'll get it done.”

“May the Force be with you Y/n.” Mace pulled the speeder out of the lot catching your waive in the mirror.

You had seen Padme home and began checking the security on the building. Obi Wan and Anakin had arrived and from what you'd heard Ani-man had tripped right over his own feet or tongue as it were. Poor kid, you had trained him for many things but never how to deal with women. Obi Wan had been no help to him whatsoever, focusing more on the mission than their poor apprentice's love sick pride. Well you would have a talk later, give Anakin some much needed advice since Obi Boy was being a right prim dunce.

“Ah I see that I arrived just in time for the evening bicker. What is it this time boys?” Moving to Anakin you gave him a quick hug.

“It would appear that the Senator has convinced your apprentice to aid and abet her in laying a trap, using her as bait.” Obi Wan gave you a pleading look for help.

“Sorry Ani-man I have to side with Obi Wan on this, it's not a safe strategy.” You sighed looking up at your padawan. He was exhausted still and that didn't settle well with you. “Hey you get an A for effort though.”

“It was her idea... No harm will come to her. I can sense everything going on in that room. Trust me.”

Obi Wan heaved another annoyed sigh. “it's too risky and your senses aren't that attuned my young apprentice.”

“And yours are?” Anakin sassed back.

Obi Wan gazed haughtily back, “Possibily.”

“Why is it when he's in trouble Anakin is MY apprentice?” You gave Obi Boy a quiet look, walking over to the Kaf thermos on the table. “Play nice, both of you.”

“You look tired.” Obi Wan observed the boy.

Anakin shrugged, “I don't sleep well anymore.”

“Are you having bad dreams again?” You looked to your fellow Master, who you could tell was probing into the boy's signature.

Obi Wan tilted his head to the side, this was most curious. “Because of your mother?”

Anakin's shoulders hunched, guilt and exhaustion tugging at him. “I don't know why I keep dreaming about her now. I haven't seen her since I was very little.”

“Why didn't you say anything?” Walking over to the young man you wrapped him in a tight hug.

“Didn't want to worry you.” Anakin felt the guilt building within him worse than before. He stepped away fiddling with his hands anxiously. “I'm an adult, I can deal with it.”

“But I could give you something to help you sleep, bring you to the mind healers.” Giving him a raised brow you tugged his braid, “I'm your Master and the Temple crazy lady... It's my job to worry after you. More importantly you're my Ani-man and I care about you.”

“Dreams pass in time Anakin.” Obi Wan came to stand beside the two of you. He often reflected that you were peas in a pod, though Anakin would often dispute that. Both of you were passionate about the ones they cared most for, perhaps he wasn't so different too. “Sometimes pleasant, sometimes not so, but all pass in time.”

“What if they are more than dreams?”

“How so?” you looked at him.

Anakin clenched and un clenched his hands, furrowing his brow. “What if … the Force is trying to tell me something? What if she really is in danger?”

“Most Masters take years to understand such dreams,” Obi Wan contemplated this. It was a unlikely, but not altogether out of the realms of possibility. Anakin had ever been the most exceptional of students, at times challenging both of your own skills and knowledge. More over the thought itself was... frightening. The boy was talented but undisciplined, a volatile mixture when combined with teenage hormones. Even if he was having visions there was no way for them to know if they were true or not.

“Would it put your mind at ease if after this mission one of us tried to contact her?” You offered.

Obi Wan balked at that, “Y/n that's against the rules of the Order, you know this!”

“Technically speaking it's against the rules if Anakin contacts his mother.” You shrugged, refilling your now empty cup. “Nothing says WE can't. Besides this way we put the whole thing to rest, right!”

“You would do that? After we find the people trying to hurt Padme?” Anakin perked up.

Watching Obi Boy's eye twitch at this, you tried a different approach. “Oh come on what could it hurt?”

“Are you asking my permission or simply trying to include me as an accomplice?”

Smirking you scrunched your nose, “Maaaaaybe a little of both.”

Looking at Anakin he sighed, “Very well if it will ease your mind, but not till after the mission.”

“Hopefully you can get some better sleep tonight.” You winked at your Obi Boy mouthing a thank you.

Anakin finally took a seat, the tension in his body easing some. Though his next statement was muttered it was heard well enough. “I'd rather dream of Padme. Just being around her again is intoxicating.”

You promptly snorted Kaf up your nose whilst Obi Wan went onto the offensive.

“Mind your thoughts Anakin, they betray you.” His tone was warning, what followed may or may not have been aimed at all of you. “You've made a commitment to the Jedi Order, one not easily broken. Don't forget she's a politician, they can't be trusted.”

“Personal bias much?”

“This is not about that or us.”

“Okie...”

“Not another lecture master, please.” Anakin rolled his eyes. Really it was like the pot calling the kettle black, Obi Wan telling him whom he could or could not... feel for. “She's not like the others, she's different.”

“Here here!”

“Not helping, you know how he can be.”

“It's been my experience that politicians only focused on whomever supplies their campaigns... Forgetting the niceties of democracy to avail themselves of those funds” Obi Wan rolled his eyes in annoyance at the bureaucracy of the Republic. “And the Chancellor is very clever to follow the passions and prejudices of his senators.”

“Must you egg him on, really?” you glowered at Obi Boy, rolling your eyes.

“I think that the Chancellor is a good man,” Anakin puffed his chest defensively. “My instincts...”

All three of you suddenly felt a jolt in the Force, moving towards the bedroom. “Obi...”

“I sense it too.”

Bursting through the door you found a terrifying sight. Two small poisonous centipedes were poised to strike the sleeping woman on the bed, deadly tongues flickering over their prey. Anakin leapt between Padme and the bugs, slicing them in half with ease. You had grabbed at Padme and pulled her far from the bed and danger. There was a crash from the window, both you and Anakin watched as Obi Wan flew off grasping onto droid that had delivered the bugs. And he called the kid impulsive?

“Karking hells!” Gritting out a curse you stumbled heading to the turbolift.

“Wait here!” Anakin told Padme, scampering at your heals.

Precious minutes passed as you and Anakin tried to track down Obi Wan. Soon enough Anakin, and force help you how he always knew, found the missing man. Having lost his grip Obi Boy was in free fall through the layered air traffic.

“SHIT! DIVE DIVE DIVE!!!!”

Not that you had to say it, the boy was already swooping down and quickly caught the falling man. As Anakin releveled and began pursuit of the fleeing assassin Obi Wan settled onto your lap. “Really Obi Boy in front of our padawan?”

“Not now.”

“Glad you're safe.”

Obi Wan glared at the two, “What took you so long?”

Anakin smiled, “Oh you know Master, first I couldn't find a speeder I liked with an open top... the right engine specs... and I had to find a color that Master Y/n would like.”

Obi Wan sighed as you squeezed his waist. “If you spent as much time honing your saber skills as you do your witt you might rival Master Yoda as a swordsman.”

“I thought I already did?” Anakin grinned as Obi Wan rolled his eyes.

“Only in your mind, my very young apprentice.”

“Can we save this for later, we got an asshole to catch!” You hollered from behind Obi Wan's back.

Maker save all of you from Anakin's driving. Between the speeder chase, crash, and further foot pursuit into a bar, this was turning into quite the assignment. Actually what it was turning into was quite the migraine from all of the paperwork you were inevitably going to have to do. You could hear Master Windu yelling at you now.

Obi Wan was mid lecture about Anakin loosing his saber, again, when you finally rolled your eyes parting the two and walked into the bar. You heard the huff from Anakin at you departure, “Where is she going?”

Obi Wan shook his head and followed your cue, “To get a drink.”

Anakin stalked the perimeter of the bar, listening and tuning into the Force as it flowed around him. He could feel the spikes of excitement from the gamblers in the corner over their winnings. The way that the people dancing and laughing sent little ripples that matched the beat of the music. Then there were the lustful couples hiding in the corners, those spikes in the current around him never helped his already turbulent mind. Though over the years he had learned how to tune out and filter the signatures around him, Anakin still felt at times that he was caught in the undertow of the greater Force itself.

Truthfully he understood that his weariness came out as petulance and he hated how it made him look in the eyes of his Masters and the other Jedi. Anakin felt too old to be around those his age and too young to be around the knights, so who was he to talk too? Glitch was working full time and there were some things that he just couldn't ask you.

Not that either of you were less than supportive, Anakin just felt that he was failing the Councils expectations and by default made the two of you look bad. To add another burden onto your shoulders was unconscionable in his eyes, he was the chosen one he would figure it out. Now if he could only find where this killer was hiding.

“You really should talk to him. Of all people you understand what it's like at that age and feeling things...”

Obi Wan threw back his drink wincing, “And of all people you should understand the risk of reopening old wounds. It's an infatuation and will pass with time.”

You gave him a noncommittal shrug, knowing that there were feelings between the two young people, even if they did not know it yet. Truthfully over the years you had come to a firm conclusion regarding your Padawan. Anakin, like you, was not a cut to mold Jedi and much like yourself was not meant to stay in the gilded cage of the Temple. And while he was gifted and kind he was also overly pressured and impatient.

Maybe he would be better assigned off world where he could stretch a little. On the other hand if you were to suggest such a thing the young man might construe the good intention for banishment, such was his anxiety. Overhearing Obi Wan life coach a dealer into rethinking his life was a good laugh and a much needed break from your thoughts. Giving him a smirk you couldn't help to comment, “So you'll advise him, but not the kid?”

“Alright I will talk to him, would that please you wee pain.” He sighed.

“Very much, thank you.”

Zam Wessel had been in the Bounty Hunters Guild long enough to know Fett's reputation. If she didn't take care of the Jedi complication then the law would be the least of her troubles. Moving as nexu upon her prey she slid closer in range to the two robed figures at the bar. She wanted to be closer, no chance of missing... Like fish in a barrel.

Anakin quickened his step feeling a dark pull within the Force. Danger was here...

Zam smirked pulling her blaster from its holster, holding the weapon lightly. Just a bit closer...

Anakin turned his head searching the room. He could feel the assassin, their blood lust and over confidence.

“Shouldn't have interfered today Jedi,” Zam muttered as she prepared to fire.

Quicker than lightning Obi Wan turned, slicing through the killer's arm. You dropped and removed any remaining weapons and quickly placed a bandage. The being before you may be an assassin but that didn't warrant an immediate death, you still needed information. Anakin ran crowd interference while you and Obi Wan carried her out of the bar. Once outside you lay the wounded being on the ground.

“Do you know who it was you were trying to kill?”

Zam looked at the male knight with disdain, spitting out their answer. “The Senator from Naboo.”

“We should get her to a hospital,” you murmured.

“Won't matter.” She bit back.

Obi Wan pressed further, “Who hired you.”

Anakin was trying to remain calm, but he could still feel something lurking within the Force. “Tell us, we can help you.”

“It was just a job.”

“Was it worth your arm?” Quirking a brow at the being you were already listing the procedures in your head. Call the trauma surgeon, alert the lab, burn team....

“Doesn't matter, the Senator will be dead soon anyway.” Zam winced in pain, “The next one won't make the same mistake...”

“Dank Ferrik!” On the rooftop above, watching the scene stood an enraged hunter. It had been a simple assignment and still this laandur karked it straight to hell. Fett gritted his teeth, “Time to clean up the mess.”

“Who hired you, tell us...” Anakin could feel the dark danger in the Force gathering closer, ready to strike. This hunter had tried to kill an innocent woman, a peaceful beautiful woman who would never harm another soul. His patience was at an end, temper snapping the more he thought of Padme even being hurt much less killed. Anakin wanted an answer, “TELL US NOW!”

“Anakin!” Glowering at your Padawan you studied him. Brow knit and shoulders set in tension he looked like a scared tooka striking at whatever came near. Looking at the injured being you put on your best business face, “I don't think you want to upset him further, could be a long wait for an ambulance...”

“It was a Bounty Hunter ca..” Zam's words ended as a dart pierced her neck.

Obi Wan and Anakin glanced to the area above, sighting a dark figure flying from one of the rooftops. Obi Wan's attention was brought back down to you holding the convulsing figure. “Wee one?”

No no no no! You tried to heal them... tried to isolate the poison in the dart, but it was too quick. The changelings head shook convulsing from whatever the toxin was, then at last their entire body went stiff. Carefully reaching for the dart you studied it before passing it to Obi Boy. Sighing heavily you looked at the two men, “I'll call it in.”

“Toxic dart...” Obi Wan pursed his lips looking back at the roofs above. Whomever had hired this hunter wasn't taking any chances. He watched as Anakin dipped his head in defeat. “Come we still have a Senator to protect.”

The men went back to the suites and continued their watch, you on the other hand were now at the coroners office, elbow deep in the changeling's chest. The cause of death was assuredly from the dart, a neurotoxic substance that locked the cellular cross bridging gates. Quite simply their muscles seized and never relaxed again. It was hard to identify from blood work alone, the damage to the organs was what confirmed the diagnosis. Looking at your colleague you saw that he was of a similar mind. “Sarinysium...”

“Kriff I thought they outlawed that shit?” Arlo looked at you with worry in his eye. “You should get checked for exposure since you handled the body and dart.”

“I was vaccinated against it, most Jedi are.” Snapping your gloves off you headed for the decontamination area none the less for a shower and change. You called you Master even though it was four in the morning. your leg bounced under your desk, fingers trying to rub away the migraine developing. Hearing his grumbling voice on the comm normally was a comfort when you were adrift in your own thoughts, but not today.

“Y/n, unless somebody has died you should know better than to call at this hour.” There was no real mallace in his voice. Rolling over Mace turned on the light then paused as he realized that you hadn't said anything yet.

“Y/n?”

“We have a problem...”

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purgetrooperfox · 2 years

Text

exhaustion

rating: T

summary: Fox has been running on fumes for days, counting down the time until he can drop onto the nearest horizontal surface and finally sleep.

characters: Commander Fox, Commander Thorn, Sheev Palpatine, Clone Medic Nocte, background characters

warnings: Palpatine being a bitch, mild language, referenced drug dependence

tags: sleep deprivation, canon-typical mistreatment of the clones, flawed coping mechanisms, way too much caffeine, slice of life (unfortunately)

edit: happy belated birthday to this fic apparently

Ten more hours.

Three more meetings.

One more shift.

Counting down the time remaining until he can collapse onto his bunk - or more realistically, onto his couch - doesn’t help Fox stay alert, but it does give him a light at the end of this tunnel of exhaustion. He’s in a security meeting with Thorn and a handful of the Senate Guard, and all he can think about is getting out and inhaling another thermos of caf. Nocte would have a fit.

Inhaling sharply, Fox narrowly manages to snap awake before he falls asleep on his feet. At his side, Thorn shifts just enough to brush their pauldrons against each other. It’s well-intended, but Fox’s balance isn’t what it should be.

He sways.

The Senate Guard captain notices. Finally. Fox had been concerned by his utter lack of situational awareness. “Are you well, Commander Fox?”

Still, he would rather not have to bullshit an answer. “Of course,” he says. “I’m waiting for the point of this conversation. We’re all aware of the potential ramifications of a leak in your division, and there are contingency plans in place for that very eventuality. My Guard is prepared to implement those plans. Is that what you’re asking of us? Is there some problem in the Senate Guard that would prevent your compliance with established security regulations?”

Thorn tenses. Fox doesn’t. He’s too tired, and he has enough of a reputation to talk down to lower ranking officers. Sometimes. As a treat. And he’s right. This entire meeting could have been dealt with via holo-message.

The captain doesn’t sputter, impressing Fox for the first time since this meeting began. “As I said, the Senate Guard is dealing with a staffing shortage—”

“And you want to supplement your ranks with my men?” Fox interrupts, well aware that he’s treading a fine line, but honestly. “Subcontracting is banned for clone troopers, per GAR Regulation 300.251.34.”

“Does this count as subcontracting?”

Fox’s eye flutters in the privacy of his bucket. “Yes. Per GAR Regulation 300.351.35, clone troopers are prohibited from seeking employment outside of their assigned battalions unless expressly reassigned by a commanding officer or the Supreme Chancellor. That includes unpaid employment and contract work.”

Now, the captain’s expression settles into a glare. Fox wishes he could remember this one’s name, but who can tell nat-born officers apart, anyway. “Then I can—”

“Before you attempt to give that order,” Fox says drily, careful not to yawn, “allow me to remind you that you are not part of my chain of command, and that as Rear Mashal Commander, I would outrank you if I was. Is there anything within the confines of the law that I can do for you, Captain?”

“Evidently not, Commander,” he snaps. Fortunately, this particular officer doesn’t have the pull to make a case to the Chancellor about this meeting. Nothing inspires like fear of ratting oneself out.

Rolling his shoulders, Fox shifts out of parade rest and swears he can hear his joints creak with the motion. “Then we can call this meeting adjourned. Best of luck populating your ranks, Captain. Don’t hesitate to contact me if your leak is not resolved within twelve hours.”

He should wait for the Senate Guards to leave before following suit, but he’s tired and irritated and under-caffeinated. So he goes first with Thorn on his heels.

Three more meetings.

Thorn is practically vibrating in his boots by the time they get to the mess. Fox makes a beeline for the caf machine and thanks all the gods that it’s working today, spitting unappealing sludge into his thermos.

“You’re going to either get yourself decommissioned or give yourself a heart attack,” Thorn informs him when he slides into the seat across from Fox at a table, all but slamming his tray down. “You look like shit. When was the last time you ate? How many of those have you had today?”

Fox shakes his head minutely and regrets it immediately when the motion sends the room around him into a tailspin. “I ate this morning.” He takes a gulp of his drink, ignoring the way it burns. “I need to stay awake and Nocte won’t give me stims anymore. So. Caf it is. Quit worrying.”

“Quit worrying,” Thorn mutters, clearly intending to keep worrying. “The crash will be as bad as the sleep-deprivation itself. Don’t say no one warned you.”

Unfortunately, Thorn isn’t wrong. Fortunately, Thorn’s shift is ending so he won’t be around to keep reminding him.

Nine hours and change.

Stone tentatively offers to trade his rotation in the Senate Dome for Fox’s next meeting. It’s clear that he doesn’t want to offer at all, but Fox can’t quite resist the temptation of being able to lean against a wall instead of standing upright. The CSF commanders aren't terrible, relatively speaking, so he doesn’t feel too guilty sending Stone in his place.

The Senate is debating pumping more money into the Republic war machine. Palpatine is in favor, so the debate itself is mostly about optics. Let the dissenters think they have a voice. Fox doesn’t know much about politics, but he’d figured that democracies would be less rigged than this.

(That’s not strictly true, he thinks, he probably knows more about politics than most civilians. And most of the GAR. And some politicians, for that matter. Proximity goes a long way.)

Crossing his arms and leaning into a back corner of the Dome, Fox lets his mind wander.

Nine more hours.

His vision swims if he’s not careful to blink the fog away. The caf both helped and hurt his situation. He’s more awake, but he’s jittery and anxious. It’s dampened by the heavy weight on his shoulders, in his bones, trying to drag him down to the floor, but his hands shake. His hands never shake.

Despite the churning of his stomach and the fine tremor in his fingers and the raucous shouting of Senators, Fox tilts his head sideways against the wall and drifts. It’s not sleep, but shutting his eyes helps slow the spinning of his head.

Every so often, the sensation of falling jerks his awareness back to his surroundings. It seems cruel. Like taunting. To edge so close to rest only to be yanked back to where he started. He wants to curl up on the floor and give up this fruitless battle against his body’s needs.

He drifts.

“Fox?” A hand wraps around his arm and squeezes, startling him. Fox jerks backwards, but there’s already a wall at his back. He blinks several times, trying to clear the blur from his vision. His eyelids are heavy. One of Thorn’s kids is hovering a hand over Fox’s shoulder. Gab. “You alright, boss?”

Fox grunts noncommittally and pushes fully upright. By some miracle, he doesn’t immediately collapse. The chrono in the corner of his HUD mocks him.

Seven more hours.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

Two more meetings.

Palpatine’s voice melts into a droning monotone sometimes. Fox has picked up tensing and relaxing the muscles in his neck and shoulders to keep himself awake. Alert is a tall order at this point, but he’s really trying.

There’s an angsty electro-pop song that Thire’s been playing in the mess looping through his head.

Fortunately, this isn’t a one-on-one meeting. It’s more of an overblown security shift, since there are probably a dozen Senators lounging throughout Palpatine’s office. They're sipping on wine that’s worth more credits than Fox’s entire life and discussing how to best balance the budget for the new year.

All Fox can think about is the absurdity of this war entering its third year. These meetings never address the death toll, but why would they? It isn’t a death toll if the soldiers aren’t sentient. Just like the Seps, the Republic Senate talks about loss of units in terms of the financial risk of increasing or decreasing production.

Deliberately unclenching his jaw, Fox relaxes his shoulders.

Thorn keeps telling him that he should cut some of the ‘better’ Senators some slack. That it’s all relative. Still, even as Organa and Amidala and Chuchi sit in this meeting and argue against funnelling more credits into the GAR, they concede that the Republic can’t fall too far behind when the Separatists are building more battle droids every day. What good is publicly railing against the war when they fan the flames of conflict behind closed doors.

Something something, political pressure, blah blah, playing the long game.

The clones have no long game to play. Not when their life expectancy is thirteen years and dropping as shinies get deployed younger and younger. Surviving two years after leaving Kamino is an accomplishment. It makes them old by comparison. The youngest of Fox’s new batch of shinies is nine and probably won’t live to see eleven. Amidala came by and met them, which is more effort than most Senators make, but it’s still superficial. It’s not enough.

Fox doesn’t have the emotional space to cut slack to politicians who only do the bare minimum.

He flexes his jaw and it pops loudly, thankfully silenced by his helmet. Simmering frustration and helplessness wring him out, leaving his head and limbs aching. He needs another caf. Or a nap.

Four more hours.

That’s manageable. He’ll see the other side of this shift, if not the other side of this war.

His mind wanders.

A delicate hand wraps around his upper arm, squeezing ineffectually against plastoid. Fox lets out a breath and opens his eyes to see Amidala watching him with naked concern. In front of Palpatine and his Red Guard.

He switches his vocoder back on and very carefully doesn’t snap, “Can I help you, Senator?”

Amidala blinks, and Fox isn’t sure what she expected. “I just wanted to make sure you’re well, Commander. I can’t imagine these meetings are particularly interesting or easy to listen to.”

Fox hadn’t been listening. That’s the trick to not going absolutely insane when in proximity to the Senate. “I’m fine, ma’am, it’s part of the job.”

“Still, I was hoping you would join me for a caf in my office. I wanted to get your thoughts on a few potential reforms to procedural treatment of GAR troopers, and the Coruscant Guard in particular.”

It feels like bait. If any other Senator invited him back to their office for a private meeting– Fox shoves that thought away. He starts to politely decline and nearly chokes on the words. Frigid cold spikes up his spine.

No, he neither can nor wants to hear this potential reform.

“To my knowledge, there's no need to address the treatment of the troopers. We’re happy to serve and are treated fairly by the Senate and our superior officers.”

There’s no reason for anything to change. The clones are treated as what they are, weapons to be aimed and fired at the discretion of the Republic.

For a half-second, Fox wonders where that chain of thoughts came from.

“I see,” Amidala says and retracts her hand. For reasons unknown, the loss of contact makes pressure build behind Fox’s eyes. Has any nat-born ever touched him without intent to harm? “Feel free to contact me if you change your mind.” She turns to Palpatine and ducks her head. “Good evening, Chancellor.” And then she’s gone.

Fox ignores the discomfort that always coils around him when he’s left alone with Palpatine.

“I’m pleased to hear that you and your men are being treated fairly,” he says with a smile.

“Yes, sir.”

“I hope you’ll take care to bring any concerns directly to me, Commander.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. Dismissed.”

Fox snaps off a salute and lets his legs carry him from the office on autopilot.

Four more hours.

One more meeting.

He can do this.

“We can’t expect you clones to keep us safe!” some Core world Senator shouts, bare inches from Fox’s visor. Fox glances at the spittle flecked across his HUD with disaffected apathy. “If there is truly an information leak in the Senate Guard, the heart of the Republic is in jeopardy! We should issue a state of emergency!”

He’s been on this tirade for a while now and shows no signs of calming. This is really not in Fox’s purview. “I assure you, Senator, the Coruscant Guard is fully prepared for every eventuality. We're very thoroughly trained on the security protocols to be implemented if and when a leak is confirmed.”

That Senate Guard captain didn’t have the authority to complain to the Chancellor, but he did have enough to file one to the war council. Fox can acknowledge that he probably brought this on himself.

“Then why does Captain Braelig tell me that the Guard has been uncooperative with his attempts to bolster security?”

Thirty minutes. Then two hours on patrol.

He can do this. He has to do this.

“The captain’s request was in breach of GAR regulations, sir. I can’t legally rent my troops to the Senate Guard.”

The Senator scowls, rough and ugly. “And I’m to believe your word over his? Is it so incredible to worry that your programming has been tampered with?”

Another Senator, thankfully still seated, nods at that. “It’s not as if we know the details of the clones’ programming. For all his wisdom, the Chancellor is hardly an expert in these matters. Surely there's some risk of interference.”

Fox sighs quietly and it makes his head spin. He doesn’t know how to say that it doesn’t work that way without offending someone, and he can’t offer the Kaminoans’ expertise without risking an impromptu trip back to Tipoca. It’s hard to think through the near-suffocating weight of exhaustion.

Evidently, he takes too long to formulate a response. The spit-spewing Senator snarls and jerks a hand up to take Fox by the brim of his helmet, and it takes every scrap of his self-control not to snap the man’s arm. Programming, his ass.

“Listen, clone. I’m going to need some kind of insurance if the Senate will be relying on you in the case of this security breach.”

Fox goes to offer some empty reassurance, but the Senator is out of patience. Very abruptly, the safety of Fox’s helmet disappears, yanked harshly off his head and flung to the floor. Gone is the chrono he’d been watching for three shifts in a row, and the pending message notification from Thorn, and the noise muffling filter over his ears, and the live update feed from his upper ranks. He watches it roll toward the door and wishes he could follow it.

Clearing his throat against a rising lump, he raises his gaze back to the Senator and pointedly ignores the disgust on his face. He knows he looks like banthashit, thanks. “I’m sure I can get ahold of the Kaminoans’ product quality guarantee and the ongoing quality control measures that have been in place since the beginning of the war. Sir.”

“See to it that you do,” the Senator spits. Fox squeezes his left wrist until he swears he feels his bones creaking, but he doesn’t wipe his face. “I’ll need that by end-of-day.”

Kindly, Fox doesn’t point out that it’s past end-of-day because this meeting was scheduled for karking 2000 hours.

“Gods, are you all so poorly composed under those helmets?” a third Senator asks, probably rhetorically, given that there’s no right answer.

“Unprofessional is what it is,” the one in his face says. “I’ll be informing the Chancellor.”

Fox can’t sigh or squeeze the growing blur from his vision without the privacy of his bucket. He also can’t quite follow the rest of the conversation, sinking down and back into a corner of his head. It’s just about all he can manage to keep his knees locked so he doesn’t drop.

An indeterminate period of time later, the Senators file out of the meeting room. Fox makes the mistake of closing his eyes and nearly topples when his balance is upended. Bending to pick up his bucket adds a swell of nausea to the beaten down ache in his joints. He slots it back on his head and steps out into the halls. The sun has long since set.

Two hours on patrol.

His HUD is out of focus.

He can—

No.

No, he can’t.

His knees buckle underneath him and he collapses, lost to the world before he even hits the ground.

Fox wakes up slowly, feeling like a brand new man.

Nocte notices immediately, which is to be expected.

“Fox,” he says, utterly deadpan, “you’re a fucking idiot.”

Which is fair, but also isn’t really. “I didn’t ask for that many shifts back-to-back,” he tries to defend himself.

“Yeah, but you also didn’t ask literally anyone to cover literally any of it, idiot.” Without preamble, Nocte stabs a hypo into Fox’s thigh harder than seems necessary. “Do I even want to know how much caf you drank? The point of not giving you stims wasn’t for you to try to make up the difference with caffeine. If you come in here with substance-induced heart palpitations again, I swear to the Force I’ll just leave you out in the hall.”

Fox almost laughs out loud at that, feeling lighter than he has in days. “No, you won’t.”

“No,” Nocte agrees with a scowl, “I won’t. What were you thinking?”

He never considered passing his work onto anyone else, but that’s the wrong answer here. “Well, I have a whole rotation off now.” Unless any of the other commanders need a shift covered.

Nocte sighs. He probably knows that unspoken caveat better than most, given how often he steals shifts from his patients. “Do you need the lecture about stimulant use in conjunction with high anxiety and the risk of long-term heart problems? Again?”

“Nope,” Fox says. “You’ve scared me straight. No more stims.”

“Sure. Of course.” He doesn’t sound convinced. Despite feeling more rested than he has in recent memory, Fox’s awareness starts sliding away again. “Are you falling asleep again? Great, I’m putting you on medical leave for an extra rotation. So. Suck on that, Commander.”

#this is an oldie but i just went back and edited it a bit today so idk here you go #leo.writes #commander fox #how do you tag fic on this site #coruscant guard #waugh this is OLD old i'm scream. like a whole year #brb gotta have an existential crisis

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mayxthexforce · 1 year

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My Gravity Centered || Sabé & Obi-Wan

Plotted starter for @crowsandmurder's Obi-Wan

Padme Amidala, beloved former queen of Naboo, now Senator, was moving away from her native planet and to Coruscant... or so the public thought.

In reality, it was far too dangerous for the Royal Naboo Security Forces to let Padme move to Coruscant right after being elected as the Senator. Even if she had the support of the current queen of Tatooine and the former Senator of the planet, Horace Vancil, and the now Supreme Chancellor Palpatine, that didn't mean Padme was safe. Naboo was still, unfortunately, broadly known for the xenophobe that had once been its Senator: Janus Greejatus who, in two years, managed to ruin relations with many planets with a majority of non-human inhabitants, which had created a certain tension between Naboo and many other planets. A tension the RNSF wouldn't take any risks about.

That's where Sabé came in.

Of all the handmaidens, she was the one that resembled Padme the most. The outfits, hairdos and make-up were all carefully created to only enhance this resemblance and leave as little room for anyone to notice she wasn't Padme as it was possible. She even had Padme's mannerisms nailed down to perfection, thanks to almost a decade of serving as Padme's shadow.

So the decoy moved to Coruscant, gave Padme's first speech as a Senator with rehearsed perfection, and was ready to retire to what would now be the Senator's home: the penthouse suite of the Senate Apartment Complex, where Sabé would live, as herself in private and as Padme to the public, for however long it took for Captain Panaka, who —along with other members of the royal guard who continued to serve Padme— traveled with her, to deem the place safe. That was the plan.

As usual, the Jedi's intervention tended to change everyone's plans.

Just as Sabé and her guard were trying– keyword: trying, because every other Senator wanted to talk to the new addition and begin the —to Sabé— invasive process of getting in 'Padme's good side, they were intercepted by no other than Grand Master Yoda. Of all the Jedi that could have decided to make an appearance, it had to be the one she couldn't just excuse herself from talking to- better not to lie to the Jedi, even if by standing there as Padme she was already lying. Better not to lie to the Jedi more than once at the same time.

"Lucky to find you, we are, Senator Amidala," the old elf started, polite and respectful.

'We'? Sabé wondered to herself, curious yet not dropping the Padme mask. She never dropped the Padme mask in public. 'We' as in him and... who else?

He vowed his head. Sabé responded by vowing her own, resisting the urge to vow at the waist, given that he was much shorter. But taking a very, very subtle step back that she played off as fixing her dress, so she wouldn't have to look too far down.

"I was not expecting to be received by you," Sabé said, smiling that warm, welcoming smile Padme tended to smile. "What do I owe the pleasure to?"

"Matters to discuss, we have," Yoda hummed and started walking. Sabé fell into step behind him. "Worried for your safety, the Senate is. Many dangers, there are. Your safety we must ensure."

Sabé opened her mouth to —kindly, just like Padme would. But firmly, because she was the one who kept Padme safe—point out that she already had her guards working hard to ensure her safety, and that she didn't doubt the Senate Building's guard would be just as diligent on keeping everyone safe. But then they rounded a corner, and she saw him.

She remembered Obi-Wan Kenobi. He hadn't changed that much. Yet, seeing him again was a bit of a shock, enough for it to show in the way her eyes widened for a second before she composed herself. It'd been a long time. Sabé was just a girl last time she saw him. Now, she was a woman, and he was not a Padawan training after his Master, then mourning his loss. That period of her life had been so hectic her brain was momentarily unable to process seeing him again in what should be a time of peace.

"Master Kenobi," she greeted, the same warm, rehearsed smile Yoda got as a greeting. "It's been a long time."

#||in character: sabé||#& obi wan #||rp: my gravity centered||#crowsandmurder #||verse: all pieces in play; sabé||

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mnmovdoom · 2 years

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DAY 22 - Allergic Reaction (SW: Thrawn & Eli Vanto)

Gardening had always seemed like a very fulfilling experience. The joy of planting little seeds, looking after them, and in the end be rewarded with beautiful flowers? The gentle routine of watering the flowers and pulling out the weeds after a long day at work? The care that went into maintaining a beautiful garden? Thrawn very much wanted to give it a try and make his balcony the liveliest in the entire Rotunda District and the prettiest in all the Senate Apartment complexes. All the other officers would gaze at his balcony in awe.

Eli, knowing of Thrawn’s gardening dreams, decided to arrange that for him and give Luke a hand with his own gardening exploits, thus killing two birds with one stone. In Eli’s opinion, he was a very effective friend.

Ever since tackling down the task of turning the Imperial palace into the Jedi Temple again, Luke had set his sights on rebuilding the arboretum that Palpatine had destroyed. Luke’s landscaping endeavours already counted with the help of General Veers’ son and daughter, of Luke’s trooper and pilot friends, and even with Fett’s and Sergeant Kreel’s help. (It seemed Emperor Vader had been banished from gardening after an incident with the Force and bantha manure and Fett. Luke hadn’t elaborated, much to Eli’s disappointment.)

Anyway, anyone except for the Emperor was welcome to help Luke with gardening. Those who were regulars at the arboretum claimed it was very relaxing and very entertaining, and that some squad leaders and other officers sometimes used gardening as a team-bonding exercise. It seemed like a good way to spend an evening, so Eli told Thrawn about it. And of course, Thrawn was immediately on board and ditched his white uniform for his training suit with a big, content smile.

That afternoon, it was just Luke, Eli, and Thrawn. While Eli and Luke chatted away, Thrawn set out to enjoy the full gardening experience - namely, by not wearing gloves while digging the dirt and planting the seeds and watering the flower beds. Once he was done, he thoroughly inspected all the already grown plants, touching their leaves and flowers curiously. Truly, the galaxy was full of beauty, and there was no better piece of art than Nature.

But not even an hour into it, and Thrawn began to feel his throat a little… strange. A little sore. A little tight. He tried clearing his throat, but that eventually resulted in a coughing fit that drew Eli’s and Luke’s attention.

“Holy kark!” Eli gasped, striding over to Thrawn with a horrified expression. Luke followed, his eyes wide. “Thrawn- I mean sir , your face!”

Still trying to stop the coughing fit, Thrawn raised a hand to touch his face, which made Luke hold out his gloved hand with wide eyes. Thrawn suddenly couldn’t move, which was very annoying because not only he wanted to feel what was wrong with his face... his skin was getting a little itchy, too.

”Your hands are covered in dirt and polen, I’m not sure… it’s a good idea to touch your face. We need to get you to the medbay!” Luke explained urgently.

~~~~

One hour later found Thrawn in a medbay at the former palace, lips and eyes swollen, very feverish, with raised rashes on his hands, and overall feeling like the entire Imperial fleet ran him over. Fortunately, he hadn't needed epinephrine, and thanks to the antihistamines and cortisone being pumped into his system, his throat and tongue were no longer swollen - even so, he had a breathing mask.

Eli stood by his medical cot, looking very sad and very guilty, yet none of this was his fault. Thrawn would explain that to him, since he seemed to be too emotional right now to think logically, but his lips were so swollen he couldn’t really move them without it being painful.

“I’m sorry, I… I didn’t even think you’d be susceptible to allergies or…” Eli muttered, looking down. Sometimes he forgot that Chiss weren’t exactly humans, and given that even humans could be allergic even to the most harmless of flowers, Eli should’ve really thought through this entire gardening thing.

Yet, Thrawn patted the empty space next to him on the cot. He didn’t look angry. His face was a little ruined right now and it was hard to identify expressions, but… Sighing, Eli sat next to him, only for Thrawn to grab his arm with a rashed hand and give it a gentle squeeze. The look on his face was patient, even if deformed. With a little smile of his own, Eli placed his hand on Thrawn’s arm as well and gave it a gentle, grateful squeeze.

#whumptober2022 #no.22 #allergic reaction #Star Wars #fic #Thrawn #Eli Vanto #my writing #set in the Fluffverse

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canichangemyblogname · 2 years

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I know I'd have to write it, but I still keep a look out for the Star Wars story about the overworked and underpaid government staffer (who most certainly cannot afford an apartment on Coruscant and lives with 4 strangers) working during the last days of the Old Republic.

Some things they'd have to deal with:

Unemployment claims through the roof.

Conspiracy theorists calling about some unhinged shit. Something about Padmé Amidala being a Gen'Dai wearing a human skin suit?

That one anti-war peace protestor who chains themselves to the door of the office. They do this every Thursday. The government employee agrees with them, but they also have a stack of unemployment cases piling up on their desk.

Inflation

People calling to threaten the office. Interestingly, they all tend to be Palpatine supporters, war-hawks, and anti-alien ("Coruscant is for Humans").

An actual bomb threat. Like... you see how many times senators and the senate building were attacked? There were staffers in there too.

Emergency services shut down for some sort-of parade? Wait. Why are we having pro-war parades?

There's no money for the Republic Fund for Hungry Families (RFHF).

Alphabet soup. Which department is this again?

Every government building is a maze. But there are cool tunnels, rooms, and nooks only for staffers and security and legislators (we use them to get between rooms and buildings quicker and safer).

The absolute nightmare that is the blue shadow virus. I did not see enough PPE in that episode to be certain that the Republic truly had it under control.

Their desk is 50 years old and their computer is 15 years old. Neither work. Their desk drawers don't open. The computer randomly overheats and shuts down. It takes ten minutes to load up the holonet.

The water in the office comes out of the faucets brown.

More unemployment cases.

The coffee machine is broken. Also, they're out of bottled water.

People flooding the call lines just to shout, "GLORY TO THE REPUBLIC." There are thousands of calls in the inbox.

Being a staffer while also being intimately involved in a legislator's safety plans and having to help get them out the back door because-- wait? Is that Cad Bane? Again?

Getting held hostage???

Cad Bane calling the office for a letter of rec for a sentence commutation.

They keep lollipops on their desk.

#Star Wars #Government #The Republic

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david-talks-sw · 3 years

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The Jedi and the Clone Wars according to Lucas

Small collection of quotes from George Lucas, clearly illustrating the Jedi as the victims of the Clone War, unwilling generals, rather than the “arrogant warmongers who use clone slaves to fight a war” I keep hearing about.

“Jedi are like negotiators. They aren’t people that go out and blow up planets, they aren’t people that shoot down things. They are more of a one-to-one combat type. So I just want a form of fighting and the role of the Jedi Knight to be special and more spiritual, and more intellectual than just a fighter or a superhero, or something like that.” - The Phantom Menace, “Prime of the Jedi” Featurette, 2001

“Having already been granted emergency powers in the face of the growing threat, Chancellor Palpatine used his ironclad grip on the Senate to seize even greater authority, all in the name of security. To address the urgent military needs of the Republic, he enlisted the Jedi Knights as generals to command the Clone Army. The Jedi valiantly accepted their assignment, though never having served as military commanders, they were unaccustomed to the wages of war. Their ranks, once sufficient to serve as the guardians of peace and justice, were spread perilously thin in the face of this unthinkable challenge. Their relationship with Palpatine grew strained. At the same time, they felt their own power waning even as their most promising new apprentice completed his training and stood poised to fulfill his destiny as the Chosen One who would bring balance to the Force.

The Clone Wars raged for three long years, tearing the Republic apart and spawning countless tales of heroism, bravery, treachery, and betrayal as both sides fought to defend their ideals. As dedicated as the Separatists were in their resolve to create a new order to replace the failing Republic, the Jedi were equally determined to preserve the Republic and defeat the Sith, who they understood all too well were the masterminds of the Separatist movement. They still believed in the Republic, still deemed it a Republic worth saving. Their faith, which gave them superhuman strength in the face of mind-boggling power of the enemy, had yet to be shaken.” - Shatterpoint, prologue by Lucas, 2004

“The Jedi are always sort of fighting this reality of the fact that they're, in essence, diplomats. They sort of persuade people to do the right thing, but their job isn't really to go around fighting people. Yet they're now used as generals and they're fighting in a war, and they're doing something that they really weren't meant to do. They're being corrupted by this war, by being forced to be generals instead of peacemakers.” - E! Behind the Scenes - Revenge of the Sith, 2005

“The idea was to establish Jedi as what they were, which is sort of peacekeepers who moved through the galaxy to settle disputes. They aren’t policemen, they aren’t soldiers; they’re mafia dons. They come in and sit down with the two different sides and say, “Okay, now we’re going to settle this.” A lot of people say, “What good is a lightsaber against a tank?” The Jedi weren’t meant to fight wars. That’s the big issue in the prequels. They got drafted into service, which is exactly what Palpatine wanted.” - An Oral History of Star Wars: Episode I, 2019

The war was orchestrated by Sidious, who then, under the guise of Palpatine, drafted the Jedi to fight it (despite the fact that they were basically diplomats with investigative powers and made it clear to him multiple times that they weren’t suited to be in a war).

He did so knowing that it would make the Jedi compromise on their values (becoming more warriors than keepers of the peace), would force them lose touch with the people, and would allow them to surround themselves with sleeper-agents he could activate at any moment.

And, like, what choice did they have? Either stand by your principles and watch as the likes of Grievous, Ventress and Lott Dodd’s defoliator tear through the clones as they conquered and enslave planet after planet... or they could compromise on their principles, fight a war and maybe save some lives. They were caught between a rock and a hard place.

All as Sidious planned. He essentially checkmated them.

The Jedi didn’t lose because they were flawed. They lost because Sidious made them become flawed.

#tcw #jedi #The Clone Wars #george lucas #the jedi weren't corrupt #in defense of the jedi #on the jedi's involvement in the clone wars #quote collection #gonna do one with Filoni #soon #meta

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one-real-imonkey · 2 years

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Divorce AU Kidnapping Plot:

Big thanks to @elenorasweet for inspiring this.

———

So, the war is grinding on, and morale is low.

Palpatine needs something to motivate the troops, the Senators once again swaying towards the idea of a peace deal, and public opinion.

The Separatists need to strike.

He had stored some plans for it, including framing his own kidnapping or assassination attempt, or his own kidnapping, both would inspire a boost in morale, votes for more funding, everything, but he needed the plan to work no matter what, without risking his life...

So Fox needs to be kidnapped.

He's a clone, so the clones will be more motivated for their brother, he's the darling of the Republic, so they'll all rally behind Palpys, his approval rates will soar, and if, in the worst case, Fox is killed, well that will hardly hurt his plan.

So late one night, while Fox sleeps in their rooms and Palpatine is working late in his office, intruders get in, past the guards and past all security, and Fox is stolen away.

The response is panic, the response is fury.

Palpatine couldn't be more pleased, not to mention his 'mind-controlled' lover will play his part perfectly, but publicly he's horrified, heartbroken. He's distracted and constantly hoping for updates, a ransom note, something anything.

The corries are shocked. They know Fox is faking, they've been helping, and while they were against the plan from the start, while they've been worried the whole time, this was a nightmare scenario. That Palpatine had decided Fox had outlived his use as arm-candy, as a humanising romantic partner, as a magnet for public support, and that he'd decided Fox suited his plans better dead, that there would be more public support now from his death than his life.

They weren't sure they'd get their big brother back.

Fox's batch don't know he's faking. They're pretty sure somethings wrong, because this isn't like him at all, dropping his guard, letting someone use pet names (especially pet), the lovey eyes, but none of that crosses their minds when the news breaks. All they can think about is that Fox had been kidnapped, that he's been taken.

Fox is fairly practical about the whole thing. He's a soldier, he knows he's worked himself into a good position, but at the end of the day everyone but Palpatine is expendable, so he starts working on an escape immediately, he manages to get a comm out, but he gets pretty roughed up in the process. The media will herald it as a fantastic story, about how the Chancellor's beloved practically rescued himself, braved it all and never gave them any information, refused to let them use him to hold the Republic to ransom. Holofilm studios are trying to get the rights within a day of Fox getting home.

Palpatine wasn't expecting the Sith side of him to be so possessive, itching for his pet to be back by his side before the planed time, nor so angry at the sight of his injuries, so furious that someone had done this, despite it being on his own orders, albeit worse than he'd planned them to be. For someone who has everything planned and practiced and rehearsed to look natural, it throws him off a little, not that he lets it show to anyone but a few corries.

Still, Fox gets back and Palpatine splits his time between Fox's bedside and his work, always claiming that though he wanted nothing more than to be by his beloved's side, he knows Fox wouldn't want him to abandon the Republic and his siblings for him, that they understood his duty, even when it pained him so to be apart from his beloved little Fox. The press, Senate and public eat it up.

Fox's batch are a little more worried, they all manage to get to see him before he's allowed to leave the med bay, they're all worried about him, they all want to know he's ok, want to know about what was happening with Palpatine and whether he was ok, whether it was what he wanted, whether he was happy. Tactfully asked of course, he'd been kidnapped after all. They watch and worry as Palpatine and Fox interact, nothing wrong with their interactions, and yet everything wrong with them. Although Rex's Jedi seemed to think it's all fine, romantic dreamer that he was, he ate it up as the public did, but Rex was still uncomfortable with it.

The corries are very concerned, they warn Fox of how dangerous Palpatine is becoming, how angry and unsettled he was at Fox's injuries, but Fox was in too deep and they all knew it, besides, there was nothing that they said that showed him Palpatine wasn't playing into his plans. That this wasn't how he needed it to go, that Palpatine wasn't playing his part.

Fox knows he's playing with fire, hell, with an inferno, but he's willing to get burned for his vode, willing to burn if it stops Palpatine.

Fox heals slowly, leans on Palpatine, his Sheevie-pie, and he amps up the lovey stuff, acting more clingy and attached after such an ordeal, makes sure it's convincing to the press and his fiancé, makes sure Palpatine keeps thinking he's needed for the plan, better to keep around than tactically dispose of, keep him thinking he's totally infatuated and loyal. He plays Palpatine, he plays the media, and he plots.

The kidnapping inspires more fighting, more funding, more everything Palpatine wanted.

But it did far more for Fox than Palpatine could ever have thought.

———

Thanks for inspiring this. It's not a fic but it's a scribbly plot. This AU is so much fun to play with, too much fun, lmao.

:-)

Inbox always open.

#star wars #palpatine x fox divorce au #elenorasweet #sheev palpatine #commander fox #palpatine #divorce au kidnapping plot #star wars plot for a fanfic not an actual fanfic #more sheevie-pie hahahaha #this isn’t me begging for interaction but I’m always begging for interaction lmao #my Corrie guard au #my corries #Coruscant guard #au or my corrie guard au

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sw5w · 4 months

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I Will Be Chancellor

STAR WARS EPISODE I: The Phantom Menace 01:32:10

#Star Wars #Episode I #The Phantom Menace #Coruscant #Galactic City #Federal District #500 Republica #Senator Palpatine's apartment suite #Senator Sheev Palpatine #Supreme Chancellor #Old Republic #Senate Guard #Supreme Chancellor Finis Valorum #Tarsus Valorum #Galactic Republic #Jedi #Jedi-Sith War

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dumpster-fire-deluxe · 1 year

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According to Wookiepedia Palpatine has a sound proof side room in his apartment suite, which is just a normal part of the building plan. In an apartment complex with so many celebrities I suppose it makes sense to have extra private rooms. But what would Shady Sheev use it for?

What fellow senators think kind, well-mannered Palpatine does with his shady little room:

Extra confidential meetings

Listening to loud opera music (because he's so considerate of his neighbors)

The actually shady things he could be doing in the shady little room:

Torture (duh)

Extra confidential meetings (of the evil variety)

Loud sex (because he's so considerate of his neighbors)

Evil cackling without anyone able to hear

Screaming in frustration because what is Obi-Wan doing to all his underlings

Anything else he can do in his secret Sith lair in the basement (Yes. He has one.)

#I looked up this guy's apartment once for a fic and got hit with so much information that I'm still processing it all #star wars #palpatine #sheev palpatine #darth sidious #sheevposting #star wars prequels #chancellor palpatine

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forcemeanakin · 2 years

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Phoenix: Chapter 2: There’s always a bigger fish.

WARNING: brief mentions of smut, as well of murder.

A/N: The fic is on my Wattpad profile @forcemeanakin as well. :) It has more chapters there.

Chapter 1

Y/n’s POV

I woke up after the hardest night I’ve experienced in months. I’ve slept in sand dunes, freezing floors, questionable campsites, destroyed ships… I’ve even achieved some rest whenever I have my horrible nightmares…But yesterday? I didn’t manage a single second of rest. And it’s all Anakin’s fault. I was way too horny to sleep, everytime I closed my eyes I saw his. Looking down at me while he hovered my body, thrusting inside of me. I tried waking up and coming back to sleep, but the image prevailed. Sometimes it was him on top, or eating me out, or him on his back… Stop. You can’t allow this.

He is not only your coworker (at least is the closest thing you can call him), he looks like a total ass. That Order 66 comment? The hell is his problem? I was reporting to the Empire, even more than him. While I was breaking my back on the Outer Rim, he was sleeping in soft silk sheets and a comfortable mattress here in the old Senate Building. I bet his chambers are bigger than mine. Not that I can complain, my bedroom was gorgeous. The whole color scheme was turquoise, white and gold. King size bed, with turquoise sheets and gold and white pillows. Silky curtains behind the bed gave the bedroom a very delicate touch. The closet was enormous; already filled with all of my different black suits. I had a TV in front of the bed and a wood desk by the gigant windows. There were another 2 doors: the bathroom and the door to the living room. The former leads to a lovely bathroom, with both a shower and a bathtub, a very spacious sink, full of creams and soaps. The latter leads to an amazing living space, decorated with white couches and beautiful work of art. But my favorite part was the gigantic balcony that was connected to the living room.

I could see all of Coruscant, the flying speeders and glamorous buildings. To feel the rush of urban life. The tilting lights of the apartments, in contrast with the stars. It was quite the sight. I was happy to see that even after the Empire took over, the vitality of the side never faded away. I've always loved it here; it made me feel human. After being locked away my whole life in Exegol, anywhere with sunshine felt like heaven. My old home planet was always cold and dark; it was the hidden world of the Sith after all. I used to walk endlessly around the planet, memorizing its every path and hideout, in case I ever had a chance to escape. Or simply to have somewhere to go whenever Palpatine was mad, so he didn’t get it out on me with his electric rays. That hurted like hell. Fuck, maybe hell was better. The best memory I have from there was butchering up rocks with my lightsaber, because it was the only moment I could release all of the anger inside of me, to let go of all the pain. So when he told me that he was taking me to Coruscant for a secret mission, I almost burst into tears (which was heavily forbidden). The first time I stepped foot on Coruscant, I knew I wanted it to be my new home.

I stayed on the balcony for over 20 minutes, delighting myself with the view, before heading out to the meeting. I arrived 15 minutes earlier to have time to get familiar with the information, given that I was already behind. I was alone for a couple of minutes before Anakin showed up. I was surprised to see him, but I was even more terrified that he could feel how eager my body was to see him. I secured my shields (that were always up) and continued to see the hologram on the table. I was creating a battle strategy based on the plans.

—Early bird? —he broke the silence.

It took me quite a few seconds to separate my eyes from the hologram to look at him.

—You may say so, I just wanted to see all of the data you have so far, so you don’t have to fill me in later. —I explained, turning my gaze back to my notes. I decided to be polite, maybe I was exaggerating and he was in a mood yesterday.

—Smart. That way you don’t waste our time. —he said. So, I was wrong. He is indeed an ass. I didn’t bother to see him and tried to ignore him for the time being. There were thirty more seconds of silence before he spoke again.

—Why can’t I read your thoughts? I know what the Stormtrooper in the kitchen is thinking. He wanted a BLT sandwich but there were no tomatoes. However, you are here, 3 feet away from me and I have nothing. —he blurted.

I chuckled and stood up straight. I was bent over the table before and I saw Anakin’s eyes on my butt as I fixed my posture.

—Why do you wanna know? That’s my privacy.—I crossed my arms and raised my left brow.

—I don’t fully trust you. This is the first time we have seen you in over a year and we are supposed to tell you our biggest secrets? I don’t think so. Besides, I think the whole Palpatine thing is bullshit. —he narrowed his eyes.

My laugh grew bigger at his insecurity.

—I don’t have to prove anything to you. —I confidently stated. —Qui-Gon trusts me and that’s all you need to know. —I came back to my old posture and returned my focus to the hologram. —But if you must know, who better to kill the old fuck than his granddaughter? —I finished. I couldn’t care less if he knew I was related to Palpatine.

I could sense his shock but he didn’t show any signs of it. He looked unimpressed even.

—So that’s why you were able to kill the Hutts? Because power is in your veins? —he said, almost mockingly.

—Thanks for recognizing it. —I said back, sarcastically.

He buffed. —That’s nothing compared to the Clone Wars. I killed Count Dooku.—he cockily stated. Raising his chin. I turned my gaze at him.

—Wasn’t uncle Dooku the one that chopped off your arm in the first place? —I mocked, while laughing. His eyes stared at me, furiously.

—Well, he sure wasn’t laughing when I chopped off his head. —he said, trying to hide his anger. Suddenly, he widened his eyes, as he remembered something. —Wait, now I remember you! I knew your face was familiar. Aren’t you the Princess of Jakku that Palpatine presented to the Sena-…?—he slowly paused as the information hit him. —You were there on a mission, weren’t you?

—Really smart, gimpy. —I shook my head, laughing.

—Hey, hey. Thanks to this metal hand, I’m a thousand times faster in combat than all of you, princess.—he bragged, showing off his gloved hand. I started to salivate at the sight of those metal fingers inside of me, but the use of the word princess kinda pissed me off. He was mocking me. —But you didn’t answer my question, why can’t I read your mind?

—Have you ever heard of shields? —the sarcasm exploited from my words. He rolled his eyes.

—I mean, not even the strongest shields have ever worked on me. I can hear Qui-Gon’s thoughts. —he commented.

—Well, that’s because mental shields are not Qui-Gon’s strongest ability, but mine, Ani. I know how to read minds, but sure as hell I cannot read the hungry trooper’s. —I explained like he was a toddler. I saw his face stiffened as he heard the nickname, but he didn’t say anything about it.

—Maybe you are not as strong as you think. —he said, with darkened eyes. —We will have to find out.

I turned away from his gaze and continued to write something, when both Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan showed up.

—Great, you are both already here. Let 's get started. —Qui-Gon clapped. —Thanks to Obi Wan, we were able to infiltrate the rebel’s database. Now we need a plan to get into the Hoth base. This is a tricky one; it’s one of their biggest storage hideouts. We sent a droid to examine the perimeter and we found where they had located their ship hangar. If we are able to bomb all of their transports and killed the remainign rebels, this would become our greatest victory against the rebels. We would shred their spirit and confidence, and make them back off to their old bases; which we have already located, so we would already be there for a second attack. —stated Qui-Gon, with a malicious gaze.

—If I may, I think the best approach would be a surprise attack from behind. I was observing the droid’s images and if we can infiltrate through a tunnel in the back, we may be able- —I was interrupted by a deep voice.

—That’s a wonderful plan, if you are a moron. —I looked at Anakin with widened eyes due to the shock. I was about to pull out my lightsaber when…

—Anakin! —Qui-Gon shouted. —I will not tolerate that you direct yourself to anyone in such disrespectful manner. —he growled. I knew Qui-Gon considered Anakin almost like a son, so he took his education very seriously.

—I’m sorry Qui-Gon, but a tunnel? What are we gonna do? Build it ourselves? They are gonna listen and it'll all have been for nothing. —he buffed.

—If you would have studied the plans, you would have noticed that their rebel base is located in an old system of tunnels, almost like catacombs. That’s why they are able to store so many things inside of those tiny caves. If we go from the back tunnel, we can block all of their escape routes and do a double front attack, destroying them completely.

—That's an interesting plan. However, I must admit I have my reservations. We would need to start movilizing troopers and bombs since days before, due to the fact that the nearest entry without rebel occupation is too far away. —My master analyzed. He hummed trying to find solutions. —Obi-Wan, Anakin, any thoughts?

—I think we need a front attack, with ATT’s and aerial support. Bomb their shields, so our troops can enter the planet and destroy the rebel base manually. While they are trying to escape, we can intercept their transports in the open space with our ships. Those back entries will be bomb, so they can’t leave through there and make them come out, instead of us coming in. —Anakin explained with the cockiest smile ever. He was so proud of his plan.

—Phoenix, any comments? —Qui-Gon asked.

—I think it is borderline irresponsible how much you are leaving to luck. —I narrowed my brows. —Your approach is a complete open offensive, leaving so much space for them to run away, if they get to break our frontlines. Not even to mention how the element of surprise is completely gone. Besides, aerial support shouldn’t be part of plan A, it must be back-up. We cannot spare any more ships. —I defended. Anakin’s gaze was tearing me apart, completely upset that I was questioning him.

—Obi-Wan, I would really like your opinion. It always helps me clear my mind. —interfered my master.

—I believe both positions have strong arguments. I like the sneaky aspect of Phoenix’s plan, but Anakin’s shields strategy is quite smart. It would be amazing if you could elaborate on them even further. A detailed plan and then we can choose.—he proposed, caressing his beard.

—That’s a great idea. Both of you have two weeks to create and develop your plans and present them to us. Then I’m going to make the decision of who will be the head of the mission. I think this is a great exercise, friendly competition never hurt anybody, huh? —Qui-Gon smiled.

Anakin and I stared at each other, with eyes full of hate. I think that for the first time ever since I’ve met him, Qui-Gon made a wrong decision.

Oh boy, this is going to be tough.

Obi-Wan’s POV

Our meeting ended shortly. Phoenix and Anakin left the minute Qui-Gon gave the word. I stayed behind to gossip with him about the high tension I perceived around them.

—Did you feel it, Master?—I asked, caressing my beard.

—Feel what? —he asked back, playing dumb.— Oh, you mean the incredibly and excruciating hate that irradiates from those two? —we both laughed at his sarcasm.

—Exactly that. Aren’t you afraid that they don’t get along?

—Well… actually no. Who am I to prevent them from exploring those emotions? —he talked to himself. —I think it would be greatly beneficial for them in this competition. You already know, hate does make you stronger.

—I completely agree. However, we must keep an eye open. Especially on Anakin. We know how possessive he is of you. —I remarked.

—I will try my best to not show any favoritism. I appreciate them equally. I saw Anakin grow up and turn into the brave Sith Lord he is today. I took Phoenix under my wing when I saw the conditions in which Palpatine had her. It was difficult for me to not create attachments with them when I knew I could provide them with a better life. If only they could see how similar they are, instead of focusing on their differences. —he looked at the floor.

—I still cannot get around the idea that Phoenix is a Palpatine. Who would have fucked that raisin, man? —I put my hands on each side of my head, showing confusion.

Qui-Gon laughed strongly.

—Oh my dear friend, what I would give to know. —he shook his head.

—You have never asked her? About her parents? —I questioned.

—No, she is very private on that matter. She doesn’t share much about her past. Well, in all matters to be honest. —he added. —But she is a fantastic girl, I trust her a lot. That’s why I know this little feud with Anakin doesn’t mean anything. She would never do something against me, my wishes or my rules.

—I can sense her aura. I like her. —I smiled.

—I sure hope so. I would hate for my best friend and my apprentice to not get along. —I smiled warmly at the title. The truth is that even after our Master-Padawan partnership was over, Qui-Gon and I remained pretty close. Yes, we had really different points of view about pretty much everything, but we found the way to make it work. Now, there's nothing he would do without consulting me first. Qui-Gon and Anakin were my brothers, my family. The bond we shared was the most special thing to me, even more after losing her…

Almost like he could hear my thoughts, Qui-Gon asked:

—Do you still think about Satine?—he gave me an ashamed look.

I shivered at her name.

—To be honest, yes. I don’t think our bond is completely erased. I can sometimes…—I paused to gather courage. —... hear her in my head.

—On your head? —Qui-Gon pushed his body upfront and supported his arms on his knees.

—Yes, almost like she is calling me. I can hear her voice, saying my name, asking me to come back to her. —I said with sad eyes. —Qui-Gon, I must confess something.

He stood there quietly. He only nodded, signaling me to proceed.

—I-I…you know that I willingly surrendered to the dark side? Right? —He nodded once again. — And that I never doubted your intentions to turn yourself from the Jedi order? That I followed you and Anakin because I agreed with your goals and I believed in our cause?—He nodded again, with the same warm eyes. I looked away from his gaze, turning my eyes to linger on the floor —But for some time now, I have been feeling confused. I can’t help but to think of what might have been if I just stayed on the light side…—What could have been of me and Satine, the family we always talked about, my future as Jedi Master, my position on the Council, but especially and above all, the love of my life. —I-I keep having these…these impulses… o-of…—I decided to redirect my sight to his eyes. —...of going back. —I admitted shamefully.

—And how do you want to act on these… impulses? —he asked softly.

—I wish to get rid of them. I would like for them to stop tormenting me. I don’t want to be weak, to surrender to them. —I said honestly.

He nodded. —My dear friend, it is completely normal to have them. Heck, even I think about that. —he chuckled. —But what is truly important is to push them back. That is where our true strength and fate resides: not on how strongly we believe, but on how firmly we deny everything else. —He put his hand on my shoulder. —Please don’t be embarrassed. I thank you for your bravery and honesty. Please, meditate on it. Remember what made you turn in the first place. —He smiled once more.

—I will, Qui-Gon, thank you. For everything. —I returned the smile and embraced him in a hug.

—I truly cherished every single one of you. That’s why I decided to ignore the rule of two by having the three as my apprentices. Well, you are more of my right hand man, but you know, formalities. —he rolled his eyes. — If everything is going to work, we need to be transparent with each other. I would hate to ever lose one of you.

—That’s not gonna happen, Qui-Gon. Our bond is strong. Have a little faith in us. —I chuckled.

At that moment, Anakin appeared at the door.

—Having a gossip session without me? You know I hate when you guys do that. —He whined. We laughed at his expression.

—Calm down, Whineakin. —Qui-Gon laughed strongly at the nickname I gave Anakin. —We were discussing the hunt for the remaining Jedi. —I lied. —What do you say if we discuss everything on a friendly lightsaber spare? —I proposed, reaching Anakin and ruffling his hair with my palm.

—You seriously need to stop treating me like a child, Obi. —he growled.

—I’m always going to see you like that little boy on Tatooine, Anakin. —I grabbed my chest, like holding my heart with an exaggerated corny grimace on my face. I broke character by laughing. —I’m kidding, but you can’t definitely bet I will never stop treating you like my little brother, you know that. —I put my arm around his shoulders and he smiled back.

—When you get all mushy, I forget you force choke an entire village just because you hadn’t had breakfast. —he said, with a chuckle.

—Hey, that’s a lot of talking mr. Younglings, I- —I was interrupted.

—I’m not getting any younger and I heard something about a spare? — interrupted Qui-Gon. —Last one to get to the training room gets the worst trooper legion in the next mission. —He said while running, clearly cheating. Anakin ran right after and I reacted quickly and followed up.

—Slow down, old man! You don’t want to break a hip! —Anakin shouted.

—You are right, how else would I fuck your mom? — Qui-Gon answered.

Anakin stopped briefly.

—Qui-Gon, I need to know once and for all, did you seriously fuck my mom?

Qui-Gon just laughed and kept going, getting ahead.

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aenaxes-moved · 3 years

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no light in a dark room

[fox x gn!reader] after fives dies by his hand, fox comes knocking at your door.

warnings: general angst

w/c: 2.1k

a/n: this is all @amaittrtd's fault for getting me on the fox train (i wholeheartedly believe that palpatine played some awful mind trick on him and that fox deserves a warm blanket and a hug). i'm also well aware fox has a regulation haircut, but i fell in love with @amikoroyaiart's fox design so there's that.

It’s near 0200 when you rouse from your bed and open your door after two rounds of insistent knocking, the first testing, hopeful, the second quick to follow and frantic as you pull a sweater over your nightshirt and shuffle across the floor. You can barely register that it’s Fox in the doorway before he’s crowding you back into the room and pulling you tight against his armor, burying the grooves of his helmet uncomfortably close into your shoulder as your door quietly closes behind him. It’s too much, too soon, and so late in the night for you to begin to formulate the questions flurrying through your slow return to wakefulness.

Why is he awake and roaming the upper halls this late into the evening? Why is he still in his armor? Why hasn’t he taken his helmet off? Why isn’t he greeting you with that soft smile and a cheeky promise of late night stargazing? Why is he so scared?

So you stay standing in the darkness for what feels like a long while, silent but for Fox’s breaths, short and trembling through his modulator. He holds you, clings to you, unmoving and tight, a man drowning.

“Fox,” you finally say, just barely above a whisper. You wince as his grip tightens on your waist, vambrace digging into your side. “Fox, let me turn the lights on.”

You feel him shake his head, the cold plastoid edges of his helmet grinding up against your neck as he squeezes you just that much tighter, like he’s afraid to let you go, to lose you. And judging by the way your suggestion has his breaths uneven and heaving anew, even in your groggy state, you know better than to pry your arms out from under his embrace and reach for the light switch.

“Let’s at least sit down, okay?”

He’s silent a moment, then you feel him shifting away, just enough that he can unstick his helmet from the junction between your shoulder and neck, only to bow his neck low, his visor pressing through your sweater and into the bone of your shoulder.

“Okay.”

If you weren’t startled awake by his sudden arrival, you’re fully awake now. Awake enough to register the weary, hoarse creak in his voice, the barely-there tremor as he presses his palms into your skin, the faint scent of blaster smoke. He squeezes tight one more time before he’s slowly peeling his arms away from around you, and through the darkness, you watch him drop them heavy at his sides, shoulders brought low under their weight. Why hasn’t he taken off his helmet yet?

“Let’s just…” Slowly still, you lift your fingertips to the edges of his ventilator, just barely able to feel his shaking exhales puffing through the seal of his helmet. But even in his obvious panic, Fox is a trained soldier.

“No!” he cries, whipping his hands up and squeezing painfully tight around your wrists, enough that you yelp in surprise. And as soon as he’s holding you, he’s gasping loud enough to crackle through his modulator and releasing you, recoiling like he’s been burned and stumbling back on his heels until the hard back of his armor clacks up against the durasteel of your door.

You hear it clatter, then a soft thud—he’s slid down against his back—and you drop down onto your hands and knees, feeling blindly in the darkness until your fingertips touch what you suspect to be a kneeplate. Trailing higher, you feel the visor of his helmet close above the plastoid, then his vambrace, then his glove guards by the crown of his helmet. It doesn’t take much time at all for you to piece together your senses: Fox is pressed up against the durasteel, curled in on himself, his head on his knees, his hands clutching the back of his neck, his modulator betraying his quiet, hiccupy breaths through the mechanical whirr. The steadfast commander of the Coruscant guard, the man revered for his quiet, stolid strength among his men and his clean-cut dependability on the Senate floor, your soft smile to call home: Fox is sobbing against your door.

“I’m sorry,” he croaks between stuttering breaths. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I just—I just—”

“No, no,” you whisper, your knees knocking against his shin guards as you gently guide the side of his helmet against your chest. You’re sure he can feel the unsteady shake in your hands, your racing heartbeat, but how many times has he been your shoulder to cry on, all soothing words and grounding touch? He would argue otherwise, giving without any expectations for return, but you owe it to him to offer what small comforts you can. “It’s okay,” you croon, pressing your cheek against the top of his helmet. “You’re safe.”

Fox makes something that sounds like a dissonant cross between a sob and a groan, like the walls of a ship being torn apart particle by particle just before it dips below the event horizon and blinks out of sight. He wraps his arms around your waist and wails, and all you can do is hold him close in the darkness and hope.

Your knees burn by the time Fox’s cries have subsided to quiet, tremorous breaths, having held him close for what feels like a fraught hour. And when you’re just sure enough that he’s brought himself to a weak semblance of his usual calm, you lower your hands from the sides of his helmet, bringing one to gently rub at the back of his neck and the other under his chin to tip his head up towards you in the low light. He exhales shakily through the modulator.

“Better?” you ask. You wish you could lift the heavy helmet from his shoulders to see him in his fullness behind the plastoid, bared to you in all of his goodness and all of his fear, to ask to share in his burden, whatever it was.

Fox clears his throat, coughing awkwardly, but when he gently rubs his thumb over your hip, your heart warms; you already know your answer. “Yes,” he mumbles, bumping his visor against your ribs. “Thank you, my starlight.”

“The floor’s cold,” you murmur, kneading gently at the tense sinew of his neck. “Let’s go to bed?”

He nods against your chest, and you help heft him onto his feet, guiding him carefully to your bedside. Where Fox is normally straightlaced punctuality and organization that would put the regulation manuals to shame, tonight, you help him remove his armor piece by piece and let the plastoid clatter in a haphazard heap onto the floor by your bed. Tonight, he can be reckless and vulnerable and feeling. He deserves that much.

His helmet is the last to go when he’s bare-handed and stripped to his blacks. Without thinking, you reach for his head, but you’re quick to remember how that had started this whole ordeal in the first place, how he’d lashed out at you like a cornered animal, how he’d scared you half to death. You’re not opposed to him crawling into bed with you with his helmet—it’s a bit of an odd thought, his lean frame in his blacks topped with the bulky weight of his helmet that can’t be comfortable lying down, but considering the events of the night, you’re more than happy to make space for his comfort. You still ask anyways.

“Can I take your helmet off?” you ask, placing your palms on his shoulders and gently rubbing over his collar. You make sure to keep your voice as soft and low as possible so not to frighten him into another panic (what a notion! The unflappable commander Fox, startled by your voice). “I’ll keep the lights off. I promise I won’t peek.” You smile softly, though he surely cannot see you in the darkness. And for a moment, a searing bolt of doubt flashes through your gut as Fox stands before you in tenuous silence.

Then, his voice comes soft, almost timid, straining through the darkness.

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

Your heart aches. It burns.

“Yes, please.”

It’s the first time you’ve handled his armor like glass, having knocked on his helmet to say hello, dropped it on more than one occasion, and nearly slung the whole thing across the room when he’d heft you into his arms and laugh as you brought your legs around his waist. Your fingertips are light over the worn scrapes and crimson paint as you carefully, carefully press your palms into the plastoid and lift his helmet off his shoulders. It feels almost ceremonial, you think, as you see the dark silhouette of his head emerge from underneath until you can see the wavy top of his hair outlined in the low light. You carefully set his helmet on your nightstand and turn back to him.

It’s then that, for the first time this evening, you wonder what expression he’s wearing, how his eyes must be rimmed red and weary of tears, how all those years of fighting this perpetual war have deepened the furrow in his brow and the constant fatigue simmering just below his dark brown eyes. You wonder if he’s looking to you with an apology, with shame, with a silent plea for comfort, whether he’s seeking out your eyes as much as you are his. You have never been more desperate to see him in his entirety, open wounds and all.

But you have a promise to keep.

You thank the Maker that there’s just enough light for you to make out Fox’s outline, and you reach for him, lacing your fingers with his as you tug him a few steps towards your bed. You crawl in first, gently pulling him to follow suit. Normally, your nights sharing a bed with Fox begin and end with you tucked up against his broad chest as he curled secure around you. But in unspoken agreement, tonight, you shift yourself higher up on the bed, your back pressed against the wall as you open your arms to him, and Fox tucks up against you, his cheek pressed up beside your beating heart as you draw the covers over his shoulders and hold him close. You still feel the tension in his shoulders as you slowly comb your fingers through his wavy locks, but you are beyond grateful that the shake in his fingers has stilled, and so too, you hope, the wild thumping of his heart.

You open your mouth to bid him goodnight when, finally, he speaks.

“I swore I put it to stun,” Fox mumbles, just a hair above a whisper.

Oh.

“I thought I aimed for his arm.” His arms tighten around your waist, and he shifts so that his nose is pressed into the space just below your ribs, and you can feel the warmth of his breaths over your skin. “I knew I aimed for his arm.”

You continue to stroke over his hair. You’re not sure who he is, but you’re certain it’s one of his brothers. Fox had always been particularly sensitive to that. Loss. You want to ask, but you hold your tongue.

“And when the smoke cleared, I—I… I couldn’t look him in the eyes. How could I?” His voice is distant, the telltale quiver curling at the edges of his words.

“You did what you thought was right,” you murmur. If there are any lucid explanations to be had, they will come in the morning.

“I don’t think I thought at all.”

You aren’t entirely sure what Fox means. For all you know, it could be his unchecked grief stumbling over his tongue and placing words like plasters over the wounds left behind. It could be the aftershocks of whatever tragedy had occurred still rumbling through his lungs. It could be something more. You suspect it’s a combination of all three, but for now, for tonight, you dip your head low and press your lips against the top of his head.

“It’s been a long day,” you murmur, lifting your hand from his shoulder and stroking your fingertips down from his jaw to his chin. You lift his head just so, bringing him up just enough to crane your neck and kiss over his brow, feel him sigh against your chest. “Sleep. We’ll figure everything out in the morning.”

“You’ll be here when I wake?” Fox asks, lifting his chin to brush his nose over your jaw. The darkness will not let you see him, but you close your eyes anyways as you cup his cheek and bring yourself close. Pressing your brow to his, you’re close enough that you can feel his lashes flutter against your skin as he blinks, once, twice, waiting. You inhale, hold, and he exhales with you.

“Always, Fox. Always.”

#yayy back to thesis drafting #commander fox #commander fox x reader #clone wars fic #yaej.writes

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passionesolja · 3 years

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This is Sidious’ apartment suite on Coruscant when he was senator.

This house is so fucking ugly. The cool schemes are trash like tone down the red, Sidious, damn.

I’ll give him one thing though the furniture is nice.

Then he got this “fossils the animal crossing museum already had so I kept instead of selling” ass art in his house.

His guest room ain’t no mf better.

Sheev, you my mans — my fave— I love you but this house is trash.

This is an intentional choice.

This is where Padme —and Anakin— lived when she was a senator.

Sheev is rich as hell. He intentionally chose to live in the reddest home on Coruscant.

Yes, I know it’s the Palpatine Family color but it’s still tacky.

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helbertinelli · 3 years

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A Different Hope

Chapter 1 - Her Eyes

"This is outrageous! It's unfair!" Leia fumed as she was pacing around the living room of the Coruscant apartment. Vader stood up straight in silence as he watched her ramble on. "This just..." She started again. "The audacity of that-... of the Emperor to send out his... his droid to spy on me." Leia continued and her comment got Vader to frown.

"You should be careful with your words, your Highness." He warned.

"Oh? Am I wrong? Are you not here to spy on me because the Emperor doesn't trust my father? Sorry to disappoint, Lord Vader, but you'll find nothing of value wasting your time here." She snapped.

"The Emperor sent me here for your own protection while you're away from Alderaan. You will find Coruscant to be a bit more dangerous than what you're used to. Your father should have already informed you why I am here." Vader explained as Leia rolled her eyes at him.

Vader was just as displeased with his assignment as she was, but he was far less vocal about it. He could not comprehend why Palpatine thought this job could not have went to anyone else. After all, looking after a fourteen year-old and making sure her family is not orchestrating a political betrayal was beneath the skills of a powerful Sith lord as himself.

The first few days were spent without too many incidents. Leia was quick to anger, almost as quick as Vader himself, but aside from a few choice words thrown at her new guardian and some incidents where she preferred not to have a chaperone, she was mostly putting up with the entire ordeal.

"You're not coming with me." Leia crossed her arms. "I am expected alone and it won't look good if I drag along the Emperor's pet after me. They will think I don't trust them... or worse, that I need you helping me." She argued as Vader was about to join her to a meeting with several of Bail's friends from the Senate.

"This is not a debate, Princess. The Emperor was clear that I am to not let you out of sight." Vader replied, crossing his arms, too as he was getting fed up of having the same argument with her every time she had to go somewhere.

"I don't need you there making everyone uncomfortable and distracting from what I have to say!" Leia said angrily, just as tired of the argument as he was. She held her composure, looking directly into his eyes, to show him she was not intimidated by him. "Do you not understand anything?"

He found himself looking into her eyes for a moment and for some reason, they seemed familiar. She had Padme's eyes. He saw them staring right at him and for a second he could swear he saw Padme's face over Leia's.

"That's what I thought..." Leia said with a proud smirk, enjoying that she seemed to have won the argument since the Sith lord was left completely silent. Vader gave up trying to follow her that night, the memory of Padme was still burning in his head. He retreated to the chamber he was sleeping in. It already was outfitted with all the technology he needed to sleep and to meditate. He got out of his suit and entered his meditation chamber. The events of earlier made it harder for him to concentrate and he was getting overwhelmed by his sadness and pain.

Why did she have Padme's eyes? Everything about them was the same: the shape, the color, even the small sparkles as light reflected on them. He was unable to process it right now because thinking about a connection between them would be too painful to even consider. He always felt something was different about Leia, but he never considered her important enough to dwell on it. Could there be more to who Leia was? More to what Palpatine had told him? -- Chapter 2 - Dreams

Leia was back on Alderaan, running to meet her father. As she got closer to Bail, his entire figure twisted into that of Vader. "No!" She shouted. "What have you done? Where is my father?!" She cried out as she stopped in her tracks.

"I am your father, Leia." Vader's voice echoed all around her. He reached his hand out to her, which made her step back. "No! No!" She cried again and again until she woke herself up from her nightmare.

She paced around her bedroom, scared to go back to sleep and have that same dream again or maybe an even worse one.

In his dreams he was Anakin again and Padme was with him and their child was with them too. His dreams about what his family could have been were the only thing bringing him comfort through everything.

"I'll check on Leia." Padme looked into his blue eyes, her brown curls sprawled over his arm as she laid next to him on their bed.

"Leia?" He raised his brow. "What do you mean? Where is Jinn?"

"Leia, our daughter." Padme looked at him with a confused look on her face. "Who is Jinn?" She asked as she sat up to go to Leia's room.

"Wait." Anakin said, touching her hand gently. "I'll go. You stay here." She nodded in agreement, lying back down on the bed. Anakin went to Leia's room. There was a crib on one side of the room and a small baby girl was asleep in it. She had short brown curls just like her mother and when she opened her eyes at the sound of Anakin entering the room, she had brown eyes, just like her mother too.

"Da-da!" The girl babbled, trying to stand up in her crib and falling back and then holding her arms out to him. He picked her up carefully and she placed her hands on his face before pressing her face onto the side of his face. Anakin smiled, hugging her softly as Leia cooed happily.

Notes:

- The setting for this is basically Palpatine sends Vader to keep an eye on Leia and the Organas because he thinks Bail is up to something. When Leia comes on Coruscant with her father, Vader is assigned to her under the pretense that Leia needs someone to protect her from the increasing rebel threat. Bail can’t really refuse so he just goes along with it, hoping this is just temporary.

- Leia is 14 in this story, so this takes place before ANH. The events of Episodes I-III are the same, but Episodes IV-VI don’t fit in with this AU.

- There’s a reference to Darth Vader and The Lost Command in Chapter 2. So if you’re confused about Jinn, that’s the name of Anakin and Padme’s son during Vader’s dreams in that comic.

- I don’t really have any set deadlines for when I’ll publish future chapters. Depends on when I feel like writing them.

Chapter 3 - Anakin and Padme / Chapter 4 - The Ghosts of Polis Massa

Chapter 5 - The End / Chapter 6 - Twin Suns

#darth vader #leia organa #leia skywalker #anidala #vaderdala #skyfam #my fics #a different hope

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detroitbydark · 4 years

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Previous part (as well as fan art and fic?!) can be found here

Chp 12

Character: Commander Fox x Mouse (reader), Padme Amidala, Bail Organa

Warnings: idiots in love, mild pining

Summary: The one where Fox knows what to expect but is still incensed when it happens. Bail Organa is a good bro to everyone. Padme Amidala is rocking motherhood and is not so subtle in her matchmaking attempt.

A/N: I apologized in advance but your gonna see that I'm working to make things better I promise! As always thanks to my lovelies @skdubbs @crimson-dxwn and @thelastbattlecry for being my sounding boards/betas/listening ears.

-----------------

Naboo was beautiful. Not in the way that a rare gem or a fancy painting was, where one appreciated their grandeur because that was expected. Where they were looked at clinically and picked apart for sport.

No, Naboo was beautiful in a way that made Mouse's heart clench. The overwhelming majesty of the lakes and waterfalls bringing a tear to her eyes the first time she’d laid eyes on them. She’d never seen so much water, so much green. She could scarcely believe she wasn’t experiencing a fever dream in the claustrophobic bacta tank back on Coruscant. Even now, after two months, the view from the Naberrie’s Lake home (more like a palace than any home Mouse has ever imagined) gave her pause.

It was, in short, heaven.

The summer months had left the temperature near to perfect and the waters had receded from the great pastoral valleys, leaving them open for exploration, picnics and gathering wildflowers.

Mouse found herself sleeping most nights with the door to the small balcony off her room open, the not so far-off sound of running water lulling her to sleep. The nightmares had not gone, a twisted version of a reality she’d lived, but she rarely woke up screaming anymore. Instead she came to with a racing heart and thin sheen of sweat decorating her skin. She was haunted by the voice of Palpatine, the flash of light as Fox fires on her, the image of him being lifted and strangled by the force wielding Anakin Skywalker. It still happens like clockwork, the dreams. She just no longer has it in her to scream.

The senator had noticed the deep circles under her eyes quickly. She was a good woman, Padmé, and while Mouse was unsure whether she’d call her a friend just yet she did know she enjoyed speaking with her. Upto the birth of the babies, they’d taken daily walks, short sojourns along the estate’s lands. It was often the time Padmé had her husband speaking with his healer. Mouse was eternally grateful, as she wasn’t comfortable in the Jedi’s presence. To have him walking with them through the millaflower fields would have soured the experience. She liked to think Padmé realized such things without her saying it. When she did speak of her husband, there was a carefulness to her words, as if she had to think each one out to paint him in his best light. Mouse hasn’t spoken about Fox to anyone, and she wonders if she did would she feel the need to tread carefully? She doesn’t think she would.

Mouse's relationship with Padmé changes after the birth of the babies a short two months after their arrival.

Luke and Leia join the galaxy on a stiflingly hot night during high summer. Heat lightning flashes and grumbles in the distance as the doctor works to bring the children safely into the world. They hadn’t planned for two. Anakin paced the room, like an agitated Nexu, checking in with his wife after each pass. Staff and visitors were at a minimum, so Mouse volunteered to help as she could. It was still a state of the art set-up, one fit for a former queen, senator, and much loved daughter of Naboo. There was little to be done but sit at the Senator’s side and blot her head with a cool cloth while she worked, grunting and pushing through the labor like tackling an obstacle in her way on the senate floor.

Leia comes first, a squalling indignant thing already full of life and the need to tell everyone about it. The nurse attending offers her to Anakin while Padmé continues to labor. Mouse sees the fear in his eyes as he shakes his head, his eyes already trailing back to his wife. Mouse holds the bundle of blankets and moves out of the way, gesturing for the young Jedi to take her place near his wife.

“She needs you.” She says softly, fighting back the urge to tremble in his presence.

“Ani?” Padmé’s voice rings out, for the first time uncertain. That’s all Skywalker needs to go to her side.

Mouse watches as he takes her hand in his, kisses her fingers, tells her she’s doing great, that she’ll be fine. It feels voyeuristic watching them so she focuses on the little girl in her arms, who stares up with bright blue eyes. Mouse melts.

Luke is the wildcard, the surprise no one knew to expect. He’d been hiding behind his sister until just days ago when her last scan had shown an extra heartbeat and an extra head. Now he was malpositioned and the doctor has to manually correct it. Padmé makes an awful, wounded noise but pushes nonetheless when she’s finally given the clear to. The boy makes his entrance as a bolt of lightning cuts through the sky and the lights flicker. He’s quiet, and smaller than his minutes-older sister. There’s a tense period where he makes no sound at all, and a collective breath is held until he begins to make a soft plaintive noise before he’s laid against his mother’s chest. Mouse offers the wrapped baby to the nurse and she soon joins her brother. Mouse has to turn away as Anakin leans in and kisses his wife.

When she sleeps that night there is no nightmare. She dreams of her own swollen belly, a baby kicking away while Fox’s strong arms wrap around her middle and hold her protectively. She can feel his full lips as they press against her temple. She can feel the rumble of his voice.

The beginning of our family, cyar’ika.

She wakes with a choked sob and doesn’t sleep the rest of the night.

—-

“Run it by me again, Chancellor.”

It felt like they’d been in the black forever. The jump to the small outer rim was no milk run. Fox glances out the window again as they break atmo and the black of space turns to the bright blue of Naboo’s sky. He was ready to be off the ship. He’d never tell his brothers, would rather die than admit it, but he hated hyperspace travel. It wasn’t just the jump in or the fall out of it either. It was the whole damn thing. It was unnatural. He was meant to have his feet on terra and that was all there was to it.

The itinerary had them making a quick stop in Theed to take on supplies, then another bit of travel - this time in the blue instead of the black - to reach their destination, the Lake District.

“Commander, relax. This is a pleasure cruise,” Bail enthuses smoothly, “nothing to worry about.”

“Then why me and not one of the other boys? Thire would have been fine for this.”

Bail rolls his eyes. “Thire is a stick in the mud and I much prefer your company and conversation.” Bail explains “I’m going to spend a couple days doting on my new godchildren and discussing a few matters with their lovely Senator mother, some of which you may have strong opinions about that deserve being heard.”

The last bit grabs Fox’s attention. “I don’t remember that being mentioned.”

“Oh I didn’t mention that some of your brothers will be meeting us for an impromptu - and off the books - meeting on clone personhood?”

Fox purses his lips undercover of his bucket. “No you hadn’t sir.”

Fox had learned quickly that Bail Organa’s style of governance was worlds different from the previous chancellors. The secrets Sidious kept had been dangerous to the republic, his vode and the Jedi in particular while Bail’s all seemed fairly benign and were really only used to surprise and throw Fox from a dour mood.

“Well it seems I must have forgotten to put it on the official itinerary for our visit.” The older man’s eyes sparkle with mischief.

“It seems you did, sir. I suppose it’s already been planned. It would be a shame to lose out on such an important meeting.”

Personhood. That was one of those dreams all clones shared but few ever mentioned. It seemed silly that it should even be an issue to begin with. If none survived the war it was a useless conversation to have, wasn't it? Now, with Sidious no longer pulling his dark strings, the Seppies were beginning to fall apart. They’d already fallen on Felucia and Utapau. General Grievous was dead and Count Dooku had gone to ground, but he couldn’t stay hidden forever. Maybe the idea of life after war wasn’t such a dream. It was tangibly within reach.

“Who’s joining us for this little shindig?”

Bail smirks again, “I’ve left the guest list to the Marshall Commander’s discretion.”

Fox can’t hide the excitement in his voice, “Cody?” It has been ages since he’d seen his ori’vod. Before the second battle of Geonosis and well before Mouse had -

Mouse.

Because that was a wound that refused to heal. Kriff - it wouldn’t even scab over! It merely festered and hurt like nothing else Fox had ever felt. Whoever had said out of sight, out of mind needed to keep their head on a swivel because Fox was pretty sure if he ever saw them he’d break their jaw.

Mouse was still a guest of the Senator’s. He wasn’t proud to say he’d been keeping tabs, but it was one of the only things that kept his anxiety at bay when it came to her. Unlike with Fives, the bottle didn’t seem to do it. The pair of times he’d taken to finding out what was in the bottom of a bottle of Corellian whiskey he’d found nothing but nightmares and guilt.

Bail gives him a smile as the ship comes in for a landing, the capital of Theed rising up around them, always warm and inviting.

Fox vows to try not to think of seeing Mouse. He breaks it in five minutes.

——

To say Padmé Amidala’s wardrobe was expansive was an understatement. Like saying Coruscant was home to a lot of people.

What had once been an entire guest suite had been turned into a makeshift dressing room and closet for the former queen. Padmé was unapologetic in regards to the sheer amount of clothing she possessed, explaining that it had been expected she never wear the same outfit twice and that, honestly, she just really liked clothes.

It made her more human in Mouse’s eyes, less like the self-possessed politician and more like the young woman she was underneath all the finery.

Mouse supports little Leia’s head as she dozes in the sling across her chest while Padmé does the same, bouncing slightly from side to side on her toes to calm a fussy Luke.

“How about this one?” Padmé questions, pointing to an ornate, layered gown. It reminds Mouse of a confection, fluffy and frosted with layers upon layers of petal pink fabric.

“A bit much for a dinner party? You think?”

Mouse had never had much in the way of fine things, had never really needed them, but when Padmé mentioned that the new Chancellor would be coming and she would really like her to come to the dinner she’d had Mouse help plan, well she really couldn’t say no. Now it was important to find something to wear. It seemed since Padmé was not quite ready to leave the concealing gowns of her early pregnancy behind, Mouse bore the burden of her need to dress and accessorize.

Padmé hums quietly to Luke as he begins to drift off. “You’re probably right. Maybe something a little smaller, more cocktail appropriate?”

Mouse isn’t entirely sure what that entails but she nods in agreement. She’s discovered that even a month and a half postpartum Padmé was still a force to be reckoned with when she got on something. Motherhood hadn’t softened her drive - if anything, it had brought it to new heights as she made plans and strived to make the galaxy a place where her children could grow and thrive.

They’d been spending more time together, Mouse becoming a makeshift mother’s helper while Padmé balanced new motherhood and keeping up with her senatorial duties. Anakin, Padmé had confided, was slow to take to fatherhood and while he seemed to love the twins, he became frustrated easily. He’d increased his visits with the healer, but Padmé wondered if part of it was the loss of Jedi Order. General Kenobi had visited a handful of times since they’d arrived, but Padmé worried it wasn’t the same.

She didn’t mention Sidious but when she spoke of betrayal and upheaval Mouse knew what she spoke of.

She felt bad thinking it, but Mouse wasn’t unhappy with the children’s father’s absence. His nearness to her still left her uncomfortable and remembering the way his eyes had glowed amber and the hate that had been etched into his features as he’d used the force to-

“Remind me again why this is important?” she asks as the new mother begins pulling out more dresses. Mouse works Leia from the sling and cradles her near while she ambles over to her nearby bassinet. Leia was the simpler of the two babies while Luke seemed to require a bit more coddling from his mother. She wondered in the personality differences between the two. She places a thin blanket over the sleeping babe before going back to the pile of dresses that had been laid out.

She holds a deep emerald green dress in front of her and Padme's brows knit together assessingly. “Next,” she chirps as Mouse grabs a blue dress that shimmers in the light flooding through the room's large windows. “Maybe pile. Definitely. Tonight is important because I said it’s important,” Padmé says digging back in the closet. “Obi and Cody arrived earlier this morning.” She glances one more time before sitting on a nearby settee. Luke is awake and beginning to fuss and Padmé quickly works open the front of her dress to allow the hungry infant to nurse. “Have you met General Secura?”

Mouse shakes her head ‘no.’ She’d heard of the twi’lek though and wonders if she might ask her some questions she had. She’d begun sponsoring little Me’kar and wondered what it would take to keep a child of another species in touch with her own heritage if she were to be adopted by a human. Not that she’d been thinking about adoption-

“You’ll like her. Her Commander Bly will be with her. They’re very… close.”

Mouse can read between the lines. Close. Close like she and Fox had been maybe? More so? She’d heard battle forged bonds that were unbreakable, maybe it also could form a love connection that could withstand the burdens of both war and the Jedi’s vows.

She and Fox hadn’t had anything so deep.

She tries the lie on herself again. It still doesn’t sit true. Maybe another hundred times and she’d start believing it.

“The Chancellor will be here in a few hours-“ As Padmé continues to speak, Mouse digs through the pile. A red dress, slick and satin smooth catches her eyes. The skirt feels cool under her fingers. Padmé stops mid sentence as Mouse works it from the pile. The neck is scooped shallow from shoulder to shoulder across where her collar bone would be and a thin golden chain connects the apex of the straps and offers to drape and dip low between her shoulder blades. It would do little to hide the scars on her left arm and shoulder, but Mouse wasn’t self conscious of them the way most would think. Though she could never speak of their true nature she didn't once regret them.

“- seven hells... I forgot about that one. It’s perfect,” Padmé enthuses, again reminding Mouse of truly how close in age they actually were. “Please, pick that one?” Luke grumbles as his mother’s bouncing interrupts his meal. “Hush sweetling,” she soothes.

“It is very pretty.” Mouse hums quietly as she holds the dress in front of her and turns in front of the mirror.

“Some earrings, a pendant maybe… oh a tiara!”

“Earrings will be fine I think.” Mouse can feel her cheeks heating up. Padmé chuckles softly. “What’s so funny?”

“I just realized that color matches the Coruscant Guard colors perfectly. I wonder what Commander Fox will think of it?”

Mouse feels the color drain from her face. Her voice comes out as an ungainly wheeze, “Fox?”

“Yeah, have you met?” Padmé is giving her a wondering look. “He’s not as bad as people make him out to be.”

“Oh- uh- we’ve met.”

“Really?”

There’s a twinkle in the senator’s eye, something that clues Mouse into the fact that the woman in front of her just maybe wasn’t as clueless to the state of her relationship with the Guard Commander as she let on.

“It’ll be nice to catch up or something won’t it?”

Mouse nods. Or something.

——

Fox feels a little cheated. All the times he’d accompanied Senator Amidala to her home world not once had she brought him to the Lake District. The Chancellor looks at home, unswayed by the beauty as he marches through the open halls with confidence. Maybe it was because he was Alderaanian, Fox thinks. He’s never seen the Chancellor’s home but he’d heard its beauty was unrivaled. After taking a glance out the tall transparisteel window looking out directly at one of a half dozen waterfalls he’s sure that it can’t be true.

“Sir? Should we wait for an escort?” Fox asks as Bail takes a sharp turn down another hall.

“No worries, Commander. If I know Padmé she’ll have set up shop in her office. The day is still young and she’ll be hard at work.”

“Sir, she’s just had a baby- two babies. Surely she’ll be taking it easy.”

Bail barks out a very unchancellor like laugh before he levels his eyes at Fox. “If she’s not in her office, I’ll eat my boots for dinner.”

“Laces and all?” Fox can’t help the way the corner of his mouth draws up, though he tries to smother it. Bail raps the back of his knuckles twice across the armor of Fox’s chest before pointing one finger at his face, his own smile broad and for the world to see.

“See, I knew that stick wasn’t as far up your ass as everyone says.”

“Don’t go telling everyone. I’ve got a image to maintain.”

Bail’s bark of laughter echoes down the hall. “And this is why you’re here and not Thire.”

It was new and fascinating to see the Chancellor in this different light, more relaxed than he ever was on Coruscant with its many eyes and wagging tongues. Not for the first time since he’s begun working closely with the Alderaanian, Fox thinks that he truly does enjoy his company.

Fox adjusts his bucket under his arm, hesitates for a moment as to whether he should replace it or continue to carry it. He’s not sure of the proper protocol in this situation. It was one he’d never been prepped for back on Kamino. What was one to do when addressing a senator on maternity leave in her palatial lake house?

He decides to leave it off and immediately wishes he’d put it on as they push through large wooden doors into the senators office. Like everything else, it’s beauty is unimagined. Sumptuous wooden bookcases filled with flimsy tomes fill the shelves, natural light spills in from windows showing off a pristine late afternoon lake with the sun just beginning to set behind the waterfalls surrounding it.

All of that fails to capture his attention because there’s his Mouse swaying gently from side to side smiling down at a cooing baby. Her hair pulled back into a messy bun with tiny tendrils escaping, framing her face in fly-aways.

Karking Naboo could get sucked up by a black hole for all he cares. Mouse is the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen bathed in the warm glow of late afternoon sun spilling across the room.

She looks so relaxed, so natural cooing to the infant in her arms - until she looks up and catches him staring.

He doesn’t know what he was expecting but it wasn’t the look of surprise, her eyes thrown wide before cool indifference washes over her.

This wasn’t a holoromance. She wasn’t going to run into his arms and he wasn’t going to dip her low, kiss her passionately, and promise undying love. Not that he hadn’t thought it in that perfect split second moment of her inattention.

She holds the baby close, protectively as Bail moves to embrace Senator Amidala, herself holding an infant.

“Bail!” The young senator’s smile could light the senate halls for a standard rotation. “It’s so good to see you. I was just finishing up.” Fox pulls his eyes away from Mouse long enough to assess the amount of flimsy and datapads stacked across the senators desk. She was nowhere near done.

“And Commander Fox!”

He startles slightly as the petite force of nature insinuates herself in front of him.

“I’m so glad you could make it. Have you seen Cody yet? I know he was pleased when he heard you’d come.”

Fox shakes his head, his eyes drawing magnetically back to Mouse. He used to be able to read her like one of the flimsy books on the senators shelves but now? Now he doesn’t know what he’s seeing, a whole new language he has no experience translating .

“Commander” she offers after a moment, her voice tight but bright in a forced kind of way, “it’s good to see you. You look well.”

Fox swallows hard. “As do you. I hope your stay has been well?”

The infant in her arms turns and roots against the top of the plain dress she’s wearing and Mouse turns her attention away from him, mumbling some pleasantry dismissively. It feels like a slap in the face.

“I’ve got nothing for you sweet girl.” She hums to the baby who is beginning to make plaintive, angry noises, “Padmé I believe miss Leia is hungry again.”

The senator sighs quietly before moving to swap children. She looks at the two men in her presence. “You’ll have to excuse my children,” she jokes, “they don’t know the meaning of office hours yet.”

Bail gives a hearty laugh. “I’m shocked, with you as their mother.”

“They must get it from their Dad,” she offers cheekily, “Boundaries are not his strong point.” Fox watches as Mouse heads for the door with the other infant.

“I think I’ll go deposit this one in bed. Maybe he’ll get some sleep without his sister pestering him.”

Padmé nods as Mouse leaves and Fox fights the urge to follow after her. Like a child himself, he wants her attention. He runs a hand through his hair roughly as he watches the empty door frame willing her to come back. They could try again, start from scratch. He would put himself on his knees and beg for her forgiveness.

Something angry flares in his chest.

Commander Fox of the Coruscant Guard didn’t beg. No, Commander Fox was the man everyone looked to for leadership. He would not beg. He’d stand in front of her and dress her down like one of his petulant kits.

She didn’t get to just walk away from him, give him the cold shoulder. Did she not realize he sacrificed a bit of his soul just to send her here? That the wound it left became a little more infected each day?

No, she probably didn’t. She’d obviously moved on and he was the one that was left idling in the past.

——-

“Bail already knows his way around the estate, obviously.” Padmé laughs. The chancellor had excused himself a short while before and blatantly refused Fox when he’d attempted to follow after.

“I’m an old man,” he’d said though he was nowhere near the age Fox would seem old , “and I need a nap and a holo with my wife, neither of which I need your supervision for.”

That left Fox in the senator’s good company as she led him through various halls to the guest wing. Wonder that! A whole wing set aside for people who didn’t even live there. For a clone who’d spent the better part of his life bunking with dozens of brothers, the thought was beyond what he could comprehend.

Padmé readjusts the baby in her arms not for the first time as they talk.

“I could take the little biter for a few minutes if you’d like.” He offers not thinking she’ll take him up on the offer. Who would let a clone handle a baby that was damn near galactic royalty?

Apparently, Padmé Amidala.

“Oh that would be amazing!” She stops and turns toward him and before Fox really has a clear idea of what’s going on, he’s got an arm full of ik’aad.

Fox freezes for a moment and stares down at the little face staring back at him. Her eyes have a depth, he thinks, far beyond her few months. When he looks back to her mother, the senator is stretching her arms with a contented smile. Leia squirms in his grip.

“Well hello princess” he murmurs softly as he cradles her closer. She offers a gummy yawn in return and Fox is surprised he doesn’t melt into a puddle right there.

Padmé claps quietly. “Oh! You’re a natural!”

Fox gives her a lopsided smile. “She’s a baby, not a thermal detonator.”

When he glances up Fox sees just a flash, a far-off look in the senator's eyes. “You’d be surprised to know not everyone takes to it so easily. Maybe you’re just meant to be a father?”

“Padmé, you know that-“

“Screw the regulations,” she says with a steel to her voice he’s only heard a handful of times, “You’re not a droid. You're not a thing, and if it’s the last thing I do, the Republic will do right by the men we’ve made fight our war.”

Fox raises a brow. “You know, I was going to say it usually requires a partner to have a baby.”

Padmé’s face flushes a pretty shade of pink. “Well at least you know where I stand.”

“With all due respect, I’ve always known where you stood.”

The pair continue down the hall taking a sharp right before Padmé is pointing to a door.

“This one is yours,” she states as Fox begrudgingly passes Leia back to her mother. There was something incredibly soothing about holding the little girl and he misses that feeling the moment she’s gone.

Padmé points at other doors down the hall. “Commander Bly, General Secura, General Kenobi, Marshall Commander Cody…” she rattles off, pointing to a seperate room for each. She does a lousy job of biting back a smile as she points to the last door, conveniently across from his own. “Our little Mouse.”

Fox can’t help but shake his head. “I feel like I’m being set up.”

“You are,” Padmé agrees sagely.

“I regret to inform you, after earlier, I believe that ship has really and truly sailed, hit hyperspace even.”

Padmé gives him a skeptical look before peeking down at her daughter. “Men are the silliest creatures,” she educates the infant before glancing back up at Fox, “but not all of them are lost causes.”

Fox chuffs softly.

“I was once told that the Force controls everything around us,” Padmé says earnestly, “but as I’ve grown I’m not sure that’s true.”

He’ll bite. “Well what mystical force controls our destinies then?”

“Hope, Commander. All life,” she looks down at her daughter, her eyes shining when she looks back up, “is built on hope.”

#fox and mouse #commander fox/reader #commander fox #cc 1010 #tcw #star wars

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