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dalekofchaos · 1 month

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Context

Hux. Short version, Hux reveals Kylo killing Snoke to the FIrst Order leadership. Hux ousts Ben and becomes Supreme Leader. Now Hux plans to exterminate The Jedi, force sensitives everywhere and lead to the death of the force. Long version read here.

Kylo as the villain. Adam Driver said the plan was never to redeem Ben Solo, that was a late change to appease everyone. So my big pitch for Supreme Leader Kylo Ren. To me Kylo Ren is what Vader could’ve been had he reached his full potential. A Vader who was never wounded on Mustafar, a Vader who killed a close family member and his master. He is the villain they were looking for, but no they had to course correct.As for what his motivation could be, exactly what he said. Finish what Vader started. Destroy the Light and reign over the galaxy as Supreme Leader. Long version. Other look at Kylo as the villain

Snoke's essence transferred into Kylo Ren the moment he killed Snoke.

Darth Plagueis was a powerful Sith Lord who could influence the midichlorians to create life and also save others from dying. He taught everything he knew to his apprentice, Sheev Palpatine (aka Darth Sidious), but he eventually lost his power and young Palpatine killed him in his sleep. How could Plagueis not foresee his own demise at the hands of his ambitious apprentice? Why did Plagueis suddenly “lose his power”? The truth is, he didn’t lose his power and he knew Sidious planned to kill him. It was part of the plan. By dying, I believe Darth Plagueis was able to transmit himself into Sheev and assume control of his body, almost like an infectious disease. Ever notice his name? Darth Plagueis. Plague, as in an infectious disease. Darth Plagueis unlocked the secret to immortality by moving from one body to the next, continuing his lifespan through multiple hosts over countless years. Ever wonder why Palpatine was so obsessed with training a powerful young apprentice? Surely he knew that one day the apprentice would want to overthrow him, so why train his own murderer? In Return of the Jedi, Emperor Palpatine continually provokes Luke to strike him down. Why would Palpatine want to be killed if the goal is longevity? Because Emperor Palpatine was assumed by Darth Plagueis and, through his death, he would then be able to transmit himself into a new host body. He wasn’t just looking for an apprentice, he was looking for a new body since Palpatine’s body was growing old. Luke Skywalker was meant to be the next host body for Darth Plagueis. But unfortunately for Plagueis, Darth Vader had a change of heart and defeated the Emperor. Snoke was Plagueis. It’s the only way to make things work. StarWars.com describes Snoke as a seeker of arcane and ancient lore, and the Last Jedi Visual Dictionary shows that he is a collector of rare memorabilia. At some point, Snoke must have found the wreckage of the Death Star on the forest moon Endor, and was infected by Darth Plagueis when he came upon the corpse of Palpatine. Did you ever wonder why Snoke thought it was so important to complete Kylo Ren’s training? It’s because Snoke was Darth Plagueis and he was training his next host body. Plagueis didn’t have a choice but to infect a really old political influencer like Snoke. Kylo was being groomed to become the next host body. Remember the infamous scene in The Last Jedi where Snoke is “predicting” how Kylo Ren will kill Rey? Wasn’t it a little too obvious? Wouldn’t Snoke have been able to foresee Kylo’s treachery? See through his conflict? It’s because he wasn’t predicting Rey’s death, he predicted his own. He knew Kylo would kill him. He deliberately bullied and provoked Kylo in order to stir his anger into hatred to further fuel his dark side and lead him to completing his training.

So Darth Plagueis goal would be to transfer his essence into Rey and in failing in that. He will drain the life force from the Dyad to satiate his own life force.

Thrawn. Cardinal West's Sequel Trilogy rewrite has the best take of Thrawn as the villain

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Rae Sloane.

Rae Sloane founded The First Order! Sloane was loyal to the Empire, so much so, rather than allowing it to cease to exist, she recruited other loyalists and they fled to the Unknown Territories beyond Jakku. She founded the First Order. Together with Hux, she could usurp control of the First Order and become Supreme Leader, which would start a civil war, those loyal to Sloane and those loyal to Kylo. We can have someone who could be a great antagonist to Leia. The founder of The First Order and the mother of the Resistance. What makes Rae a compelling character is the fact that she believes what the Empire is doing is right. In her eyes, the Empire is doing the right thing, purging lawlessness from a galaxy overrun by bureaucrats that care little for the common people. She’s wrong, but like great villains before her, audiences can see where she’s coming from even if they don’t agree with it. Throughout her many appearances in the supplemental Star Wars narratives, she is constantly pushing for the Empire to be “just.” When things start to fall apart after the Battle of Endor, Rae struggles to keep the remnants of the fleet playing by the unspoken rules of warfare and is frustrated to see the Empire careen into backstabbing and incompetence. You can see Rae’s influence in the First Order with its strict hierarchy and minute by-the-books stringency that makes Palpatine’s Empire look positively laissez-faire by comparison. Supreme Leader Rae Sloane would make The First Order a force to be reckoned with and what better way to end it than with the First Order’s founder?

The Grysks.

The Grysks were introduced in the new canon novel Thrawn:Alliances. They are what brings Thrawn to the Empire in hopes of co-existing to fight this threat in the Unknown Regions. Grysks are a species living somewhere in the Unknown Regions. Creatures half of myth, whom few have ever seen. It is said that they are nomads, with no fixed home, traveling in spacecraft so numerous they blot out the stars. They are said to be terrifying warriors, overwhelming their opponents by sheer numbers and ferocity. The fact that these intergalactic conquerors are not the main threat in the Sequel Trilogy is baffling. You could’ve had Ben Solo sense they were coming during his Jedi days and made the ultimate sacrifice to become Kylo Ren and join The First Order because he knew the New Republic was not ready to face such a threat. It wouldn’t make what he was doing the entire trilogy right, but it would make explain why he turned and what his motivations are.

I don't really have a explanation for Qi'Ra, but she was trained by Maul, took over the Crimson Dawn and you don't waste Emilia Clarke on one movie that never continued. So Qi'Ra as the villain could've worked.

A Mandalorian invasion lead by Fett writes itself.

I know it's technically Palpatine, but it works better because we don't stupidly retcon Anakin's sacrifice. This was planned, but the idiots that be decided it would be better if Ian played him. So instead this is the perfected clone. The Clone Wars were a test for Palpatine to perfect cloning. Throughout the reign as Emperor, he tinkered with cloning force sensitives, created a lot of failures(Snoke) but prior to Endor, he perfected it and kept it as a fail safe should he die. And after Kylo Ren killed Snoke, he awakened. Palpatine reborn. The movie opens at the end of the war. Finn successfully consurs up a Stormtrooper Rebellion and all the FO officers are executed, Hux is captured and Rey beats Kylo Ren for the umpteenth time. The First Order are on their last legs. Until a message is delivered to the galaxy.

“People of the galaxy. Your Emperor has returned after thirty long, lawless years. To the Sith and the Jedi; follow the Holocrons. We have much work to do. Those who remained loyal to me shall be rewarded. For those who relished in my demise, who celebrated what they thought the end of the Empire and believed their treachery had won them the galaxy…only death and suffering await. The great error shall be corrected. The day of victory is at hand. The restoration of the Empire! The Final Order! The Day of the Sith!”

And it's a race. Rey and the Resistance hoping to stop The Emperor, while Kylo Ren is hoping to kill Palpatine, obtain the power of the Sith Eternal and an infinite fleet that will win the galaxy, but in the end, Rey and Kylo are forced to work together. Matt Smith as Palpatine could've fixed the movie

The final contingency of the Emperor. Cloning Luke Skywalker. Palpatine had foreseen either Luke will kill him and Vader or Vader will betray him. So Palpatine orders that Luke's hand be brought to him. Luke is cloned, but imperfectly. He is just a husk of power, so Palpatine has the greatest minds of the Empire indoctrinate this malleable clone to being the heir and the eventual savior of the Empire. This clone. Let's refer to him as Luuke. Luuke learned everything there was from Palpatine. His Machiavellian cunning mechanisms. Mastery over the dark side and fully believed in his master's will and plans for him.

Luuke foresaw that there would be problems if he revealed himself. SO he created a puppet, Snoke. Through Snoke, he turned Kylo Ren to the dark side and puppeteered The First Order. Masterminding everything from the shadows and after Snoke and the real Luke Skywalker's deaths, it was time to reveal himself.

Luuke's motivations are to bring Kylo Ren to heel or cast him aside, turn Rey to the dark side or kill her and rule the galaxy as his master intended for him. This dark side Luke would unite both Rey and Ben against him and would give Mark Hamill the opportunity to play a dark side Luke Skywalker.

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vaguely-concerned · 5 months

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I’m on a Star Wars books roll so here we go with my — unhinged thanks for asking! — thoughts on Dooku: Jedi Lost, specifically the audio play. Short version: I fucking loved this one! For maximum emotional devastation, pair with Master and Apprentice and Padawan the way my stupid ass did and then be sad about it forever I guess that's what I’m going to have to do.

Long (LONG oopsie) version:

- So. First of all, let’s get the most important thing out of the way on this here old man yaoi website. We all agree dooku and sifo dyas explored each other’s bodies right. Or at least definitely would have if not for the laws of this order etc., potentially. That’s not just me. Good. Thank you. We can now move on

- Secondly. Well. Guess I’m just going to be inconsolable about Sifo-Dyas forever now. I miss the days in which he was just a throwaway line in AotC spawned by a random misspelling to me, rather than an eternal raw aching wound in my heart

- poor poor ventress just reading through all the proof that dooku absolutely does have it in him to be a good dad I mean master and just — idk got tired of that and went the force lightning route with her. I love the move of having her dead master hang out with her all that time as well (having her slip up and refer to ‘us’ did something to me, god this is so sad. Is he actually there in spirit or is it just her grief dreaming him up because dooku is awful and cold as a cliff wall and she needs some kind of attachment figure even if she’ll have to reinvent him herself, rebuild him word for word, gesture by gesture. Pain. sorry about your terrible track record with father figures asajj)

- Lene: (About Averross): He hasn’t changed.

Dooku: (In the warmest fondest voice you ever heard) And I hope he never does

WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO WITH MYSELF? MUST I SET MYSELF ON FIRE TO ESCAPE THE PAIN???

Another strong showing for Rael in general, btw. He’s so warm and charming as a presence even though he’s also a little chaos gremlin. (He’s quite similar to how Sifo-Dyas was when he was young in some ways, I can definitely start to see what Dooku responds warmly to in terms of character traits.)

- the fact that good ol’ sheev showed an interest in rael, dooku and anakin… interesting huh! He’s just got a soft spot for the disaster lineage I suppose, maybe there’s an element there of luring yoda’s most direct lineage into the dirt with him without yoda even noticing for the longest time. Also cackling at the idea that he looked at qui-gon ‘too fucking stubborn and insufferable to fall to the dark side out of sheer spite’ jinn and went ‘...not that one tho’ fhdskjfa. And obi-wan is more like ‘that one blorbo all my little guys seem wild about but I just don’t get it guys’

IF rael’s refusal to join dooku at the end of ‘master and apprentice’ is the last word (which I am not convinced of ;___; be safe cowboy jedi we never see in mainline canon so far), then he’s the only one who has dodged palpatine’s attentions. Wonderful if true love that for him

ALSO rael is one of the few people we know to be on (or at least to consider himself on despite what palps might think lol) first name basis with palpatine. Hilarious. I concur with dooku never change rael

- Sifo-Dyas: That’s insane.

Dooku, deadpan: Yes.

Sifo-Dyas: The worst plan I’ve ever heard.

Dooku, somehow even more deadpan: Most probably.

Sifo-Dyas: I’m in.

Crying… weeping and dying………… what if someone could have helped sifo with his unfortunate prophecy propensity and they hadn’t drifted apart. Clone Wars averted methinks if dooku still ended up leaving the order he would have been too busy having tender gay sex with the love of his life (and only person who can call him out on his shit and have him actually listen) to be a war criminal (I am being extremely facetious of course this is very much a ‘time traveler killing baby hitler’ situation where the underlying forces causing this point in history are way too powerful to avert the catastrophe in one move. but at least palps would probably have had to pick someone else to wreck the galaxy through and sifo-dyas would be kissed & held instead of going slowly mad. A net plus some (I, me) would say)

- I just wanted to applaud both the writing and the voice acting for the characterization of Dooku in this, from his young self trying so hard to be haughty and self-possessed but also being like, y’know, twelve and a dweeb and easy for Sifo-Dyas to pull into trouble, to the dry wit and warmth he shows with Rael and Qui-Gon or his sister later. It took me a little while to get into the voice acting specifically (the actor makes no attempt at going the full Christopher Lee, which in hindsight was probably wise), but now I love it. It gets a bit goofy in places but you know what, I am a long time lover of audio plays, that’s part of the charm

- “Master, have I done something wrong?”

My heart is clenching… do you think… that master yoda’s deal with leaving his student to try fucking everything to have some kind of relationship with him until he just breaks down in tears of despair… is the kind of thing that maybe started a little bit of a generational trauma cartwheel through the ages. The point that bb!dooku is arrogant isn’t without merit and he strikes out incredibly ungracefully about it (in fact I would be a lot more worried than yoda seems to be that he decides to try to kill a tree about it, ‘I felt like destroying something beautiful’-style) but I just don’t think a… fourteen year old? A teen anyway, Is going to learn what you think he learns from this. I simply don’t believe that silent treatmenting kids will teach them emotional intelligence I guess especially if they already struggle with that naturally lol

(It is exactly the same mistake (in my opinion) that Qui-Gon makes with Obi-Wan, too, just leaving the kid completely alone and forcing them to come to you every which way for comfort or guidance instead of meeting them or reaching out to them. Especially once you see that really Dooku’s prime emotion/big core wound right from the beginning is loneliness. And that doesn’t only come from a feeling of superiority (which to be sure is also a big factor), because he has no idea where he comes from until he meets his sister. I don’t think the jedi as a whole were unsalvageable by any stretch of the imagination, but Yoda specifically… you are on such very thin ice with me at this point you little green fuck. You’re very funny and moving in yoda dark rendezvous and that’s all that’s keeping you in my somewhat good graces.)

- Okay, coming back a bit later I think I’ve found the right words to say this. more precisely dooku has two big issues which you can later see haunting all the way down his lineage — loneliness and control. (and not incidentally the intersecting elements of the two haha.) We see from his relationship to sifo-dyas that he’s not incapable of having close mutual relationships with an equal, but that kind of crashed and burned for reasons neither of them could really help and after that it seems quite telling that he has the easiest time with deeper connection in a teacher-student sort of form. I think his affection is unconditional and real, but you can’t get away from the fact that he also has the most control in that relationship structure by default, he gets to dictate what form it takes to a big extent. He doesn’t trust other people — the underlying idea ‘Only I can do this’ that eventually leads him down the Separatist path is there the whole way. It speaks both to a sense of superiority and an utter lack of faith that other people can or will help him. And then that echoes down through the master-padawan line:

Qui-Gon with his self-righteousness and utter refusal to compromise leaving him isolated among the jedi (only he is right. Yeah the Force told him so. Don’t worry I’ve got a permit *insert parks and rec I can do whatever I want meme here*), Obi-Wan with his anxiety and perfectionism and incredible sense of shame and responsibility that he should be able to carry the whole world on his shoulders alone and beating himself up for failing, all feeding into not knowing what to do with Anakin and his complete lack of control of himself and his desperation to gain and maintain connection and love (which earns him the title of ‘Dooku’s least favorite family member’ fhdsa his immediate disdain for him is so funny and so in character. Repress and go slowly mad like a normal person anakin the way you’re carrying on is just undignified and that is much worse than being evil)…

- Rael gently telling Dooku to take on another padawan soon… so sweet, so sad, local cowboy jedi looking out for his dad. Also highlights something about Dooku I think is true: that he does much better and seems to have an easier time holding to the light when he’s responsible for someone else. Again, I do feel like Dooku’s core problem is loneliness, but it seems like raising kids is the one point where that relaxes somewhat. Maybe if Sifo-Dyas had stayed in a better mental place and they kept in touch it could have been different.

- Lene Kostana is SUCH a character! Charismatic and deeply fucked up, when it’s revealed how her and Sifo-Dyas’ relationship remains long after his padawan stage is done I felt a little bit sick, to my surprise. Because that could just be kindness on her part, of course, it’s good that he has someone he trusts to look after him when he can’t himself, but also there’s something… queasy about the way it keeps him continually young, in a way. (Notably he still calls her ‘master’ even as an adult, when they’re working together. Not uncommon in Star Wars, of course, but together with everything else going on vibes-wise… hm.) The inherent unreliable narration of this story really worked for me in this regard especially — do we know that young Dooku was entirely wrong when he sensed the dark side in her? She certainly is willing to go to lengths that are… worrying! in her fascination with sith shit, she tempted children into a dangerous place they didn’t understand and couldn’t know the consequences of and she continually puts sifo-dyas in situations that are implied to be a risk to worsening his condition. Run of the mill incredibly irresponsible at best, sincerely sinister at worst. Did she choose Sifo over Dooku because he’s more vulnerable and shapeable? There is an undercurrent of something icky and emotionally incest-y going on with how she relates to Dooku and Sifo-Dyas in general (right down to the ‘NO, no one can know about this’ intensity after the… evil moss cave. I can’t believe I’m this emotional about a book with an evil moss cave). I don’t think she’s a proper sith in any way and I also believe there is real affection there on all sides, but idk something about the whole thing makes me deeply uneasy. Yoda where the fuck are you your son is out there with his irresponsible mom again they’re looking for dirty needles in haystacks and they’re not even wearing any gloves

- dooku telling sifo-dyas he can come back to haunt him if he likes as a joke… well well well I’m sure that doesn’t ring with some dramatic irony at some point down the line lmao

- honestly looking back at master and apprentice after reading jedi lost makes qui-gon's apparent lack of reaction to dooku leaving seem — let's call it highly suspect haha. rael asks him if he's spoken to dooku after and qui-gon is like 'no. why would I. it's literally fine. anyway this topic is done now'. (and rael seems to just go ‘*older brotherly knowing* uh-huh’) meanwhile he's thinking about dooku *all the time* trying to figure out his role as master to obi-wan, thinking about being a padawan himself, the parts of his life he shared with both dooku and rael. The jedi doth protest too much methinks

ALSO how much of qui-gon thinking the council was too lenient with rael after he had to kill his padawan is about that actual situation, and how much is a ‘our family still likes my older brother more than me even though he Fucked Up so bad and breaks just as many rules as I do’ sort of deal mixed with his own neuroses about how he’s failing obi-wan (to which rael’s situation symbolizes the worst possible outcome, i.e. the kid dies and it’s basically your fault). Many thoughts.

- moment of silence for jenza of house serenno. Girl your only sin was being surrounded by asshole male family members and I’m so sorry I think you did all you could with what you had to work with here.

Not… entirely sure how dooku’s claim to the title supersedes hers — is he a year older than her? (she’s eleven when they first meet, he might be twelve or older at that point I don’t remember haha) Does she just give up her place in the inheritance order? Are primogeniture and male heir preference factors in Serenno inheritance law? Not the most important thing honestly it works anyway thematically but could have been clarified quickly!

- interesting to see that the council’s restrictive policy against engaging with prophecies had a surprisingly big impact on how things went down. Kostana has a lot of responsibility in Sifo’s fate for insisting he keep it secret, but there is genuine fear for what might become of him if the rest of the order finds out he’s got 24/7 futurevision hovering over him threateningly… listen it’s not like the poor guy can help getting the future constantly pumped into his brain at nightmare resolutions, I think maybe if there had been more willingness to at least engage curiously with the concept of prophecy and how it works, even if you don’t put your faith in the particulars of what the prophecies say, this wouldn’t have had to be such a shitty isolated secretive life for him. hearing him slowly fall apart over the years considering how bright and lovely he started out... oof is all I can say

- when dooku was a good jedi he was such a good jedi!!! The scene where they’re saving the kids from the collapsing hospital, every time he teaches his students anything…the impulse of someone has to do something about this! that made him so good at saving lives turning dark with the tarnish of frustration and rage over the years… nooooooooo problematic grandpa why did it have to be like this :(

- …do you think infant jedi can sense what’s going on around them in the Force. Because it makes a very sad kind of sense if dooku on some level remembers bodily or in the Force that he was not only abandoned but rejected in disgust as one of the first things he discovered in the world. Oh boy. With all the ways attachment relationships can go wonky in the first few years in real life I don’t even want to consider how much more wrong it can go when the baby is fucking psychic lol

- vaguely related: the way dooku seems to find the very idea of being truly reliant on anyone, emotionally or otherwise, personally offensive, terrifying and humiliating lol. Yoda saves him from being crushed by rubble and he is outraged because that means he can’t save himself (and his newfound sister) without anyone’s help like he thought for one glorious moment he could. The fantasy of perfect emotional self-sufficiency, doing away with all the messiness and risk of interpersonal relationships and cutting off the possibility of really being abandoned again. It’ll get ya every time. This is also a thing you see reflected in his lineage — they’re all quite inward-turning that way until you get to anakin, to different extents and with varying presentations but it is there I think. Qui-Gon turns to the Force, Obi-Wan to perfectionism and shame and rumination, Rael to the bottle and depression and hedonistic apathy, but they all struggle hugely with letting anyone in to help them. Dooku’s line are all much more comfortable being the helpers rather than the helpees, as it were.

- “Thank you for everything, Lene. Tell Rael and Qui-Gon — tell them… tell them the Force will be with them, always”

Emotional terrorism against me specifically and personally. You asshole you just excused yourself from the non-attachment rules there’s literally nothing in the world except you to stop you from reaching out and telling your children you love them yOURSELF why are you like this

- the recurring theme of dooku seeing something beautiful (the tree in the temple, the tirra’taka as a child and an adult) and ending up lashing out to destroy it… but the tree was old and mighty and he was young and new and couldn’t truly harm it, so he was saved from his own impulsivity. And then when he sees the tirra’taka as an adult he loves it immediately. And in the end he still mangles and destroys it. He didn’t mean to, but he did. He woke it up and hurt it just by existing as a child and then he had to kill it as a mercy because he was too powerful at that point for anything to buffer his mistakes. The parallel with the bird he loved that he also couldn’t protect. He starts out with an aching loneliness somewhere at the core of him through no real fault of his own but by the end it is entirely his own fault that it’s worse, because he starts wrecking everything he loves in an almost absent-minded but definitely intentional way, like it’s a nightmare he’s listening to through the door as it happens in the next room over. He really IS the ‘I just felt like destroying something beautiful’ central of the jedi.

at the end qui-gon is dead and through dooku’s own influence, however indirectly. Rael has had to turn away from him. Sifo-Dyas is dead on Dooku’s own orders and so is his sister, he might as well have done it with his own hands. (though I think it’s very interesting that in each case he didn’t do it with his own hands, he consistently uses a middleman.) He lives within the coldness of his sterile empty castle and horrifically mistreats the one person he might have found something like connection with the way he did with his students before (Ventress), deliberately trapping her in a similar state of utter desolate isolation and telling her, essentially, ‘We’re like this as people and nothing can be done to change it. We can’t escape, we’re already doomed, stop trying, it’s too late. You are just like me (and if you aren't already I'll make you like me)’. And that’s the closest thing he gets to love anymore. When he accused Ky of using her ‘as a salve for his own loneliness’ and you’re like well well well mr projection man how’s that working out for you. He is completely, shatteringly alone and he is so entirely as a consequence of his own actions and he's too far gone to understand or care. I’m howling you useless fucking FOOL dooku

- dooku 🤝 john gaius

“Hm. I have observed that there are in fact many flaws in our society and the government is deeply corrupt. So if I kill a few billion people here and there in order to fix it, is that not basically okay when you really think about it”

Dooku making salient points about the political and ethical failures of the Republic and then, just when you think he’s onto something, he goes and makes The wildest fucking decisions about what to do about it. Sure. dark magic and genocide are probably the only ways out of this you’re so right bro. If we make enough minuses to add together surely we’ll end up in plus sooner or later

- *head in my hands once more* I can’t believe I am genuinely emotionally invested in someone called Count Dooku with the looks of a knockoff dracula and ultimate moral character to match right now this is terrible. hey. hey dooks. what you have to go and fuck everything up so bad for huh I’m so incredibly sad now

there is something to be said about how getting to see glimpses of what dooku looked like in the light makes it so much more heartwrenching that he never came back. he could have, a thousand times. and every time he chose not to.

#star wars #dooku jedi lost #count dooku #sifo dyas #dooku x sifo dyas #disaster lineage #lene kostana #star wars meta #rael averross #qui gon jinn #I'm being peak on my bullshit in this one. you're welcome and/or I'm sorry as appropriate

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lamaenthel · 5 months

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Tivaevae | Chapter One: Ripped At The Seams

Still struggling to emotionally recover from Master Obi-Wan's deception, Ahsoka discovers in the aftermath that twelve-year-old Boba Fett has been locked up among adults in the Republic Judiciary Central Detention Center. After convincing Chancellor Palpatine to grant him a pardon, she manages to secure his release on the condition that she serve as his legal guardian. Now, with the help of Master Plo and the Wolfpack, she vows to help him track down what family he has left.

| AO3 | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 |

Fandom: Star Wars Characters: Ahsoka Tano, Boba Fett, Plo Koon, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Mace Windu, Kanan Jarrus, Sheev Palpatine | Darth Sidious, CT-27-5555 | ARC-5555 | Fives, CC-1119 | Appo, Dexter Jettster, FLO | WA-7 (Star Wars), Shaak Ti, ARC Commander Blitz (Star Wars), CT-6922 | Dogma, Original Clone Trooper Character(s) (Star Wars), CC-3636 | Wolffe, Clone Trooper Sinker (Star Wars), Clone Trooper Comet (Star Wars), CC-2224 | Cody, CT-5597 | Jesse, CT-4860 | Boost, Aurra Sing, Tobias Beckett, Null-11 | Ordo Skirata, Kal Skirata, Original Mandalorian Characters (Star Wars), Original Droid Characters (Star Wars), Original Jedi Character(s) (Star Wars) Total Word Count: 123,000 Chapter Word Count: 6,751

"And then Grey was like skoosh skoosh skoosh–" Caleb held up an imaginary carbine and let loose a series of blasts, so enthusiastic about his reenactment that he nearly fell off of the courtyard bench. " –and the SBD just exploded! He got him right in the power core! And then-and then-and then I did a backflip off of his shoulder, and I cut three B1's in half! It was so wizard."

"You did?" Mace gasped, theatrically placing a hand on his chest in feigned shock. He had a reputation for being overly stoic, cold even, but there was nothing that defrosted the Master like his Padawans. Depa had dropped off young Caleb to have lunch with his Grand-Master with a weary gratitude that Obi-Wan remembered well; ironically, it had usually been Mace that would give him a break from Anakin more often than not, back then.

"Sure did," Caleb raised his chin proudly. "Have you ever done that with your commander, Master Obi-Wan?" he asked eagerly, looking at him from the other side of Mace with bright turquoise eyes.

Obi-Wan swallowed his mouthful of salad. "Unfortunately, no," he said with a smile. "I think I might squash poor Cody if I tried, though, I weigh a bit more than you."

"Is that why you're watching your figure?" Mace asked wryly, looking at Obi-Wan's bowl of fresh greens.

"I don't care if they're nutritionally complete, human beings were not intended to survive off of ration bars alone," Obi-Wan grumbled into his salad.

"I didn't jump off Grey, I jumped off the battle droid!" Caleb giggled.

"Ah," Obi-Wan said. "Well, the answer is still no, but I'll make sure to bring it up to him before our next strategy meeting."

"Good idea!" Caleb said with a grin, then shoved a handful of fried tatos in his mouth. His nerfburger had been inhaled two meandering stories ago.

"Well, I'm impressed. That sounds like a very successful first mission." Mace gave him a pat on the back then added an unholy amount of orbakradish paste to his bowl of red turu rice, green peppers and bantha strips.

"Can I have some?" Caleb asked curiously, staring at the bright green bottle his grand-master had pulled from his pocket curiously.

"It's very spicy," Mace warned before leaving a tiny smudge on the boy's plate, then took a stoic bite of his rice bowl.

Caleb carefully dipped a corner of his fried tato in the orbakradish and took a bite. His eyes went wide. "Ow," he said faintly, and held his mouth open. "Aow. Aow."

Mace chuckled, dipped a tato in the cup of vinegar on the other side of Caleb's plate, then popped it in his open mouth. "I did warn you," he said as Caleb furiously chewed. "Orbakradish isn't like capsaicin. For that, you need some sort of cream. To cure this, you need vinegar."

Caleb sighed with relief. "Thanks, Master." He hurriedly popped another vinegar-soaked tato in his mouth, then finished off the rest of the plate with the speed that only eleven-year-old boys could manage without making themselves sick. Mace and Obi-Wan exchanged amused looks while they ate their own meals at a less tornadic pace.

"Go on, Padawan. Time to meditate, then practice your forms at the training salle." Mace patted Caleb on the back and took his empty plate once he'd licked it clean.

"Will you come and– I mean, I would be honored if you would spar with me after your Council meeting is done, Master." Caleb said bashfully. "If you want to. I, um, I know you're busy."

"I'm not sure how long I'll be, but I'll head down to the salles as soon as we're done. I'd be happy to spar with you, Padawan." Mace patted his cheek fondly and winked.

"Okay!" Caleb bowed hurriedly to Mace and then Obi-Wan. "Bye, Masters!" He took off at a run, almost tripping on his robes twice before disappearing around the corner.

"I miss that age," Obi-Wan said forlornly. "They're still so enthusiastic about everything. Once they hit puberty…"

"The attitude, I know," Mace said knowingly. He took a final bite from his rice bowl and reached a hand out for Obi-Wan's dish. "I'm grateful for Depa and Devan. Echuu was a handful. Girls are easier."

"Girls are not easier," Obi-Wan snorted, then rubbed his bald head, textured with a thousand offended bumps. The whole thing was so damn itchy, he'd had to meditate three times that morning just to keep his sanity. Perhaps Lace had some procaine cream in the medbay that he could borrow until all of the hairs had poked through the skin.

"Mine were," Mace shrugged.

"Yours aren't vindictive," Obi-Wan sighed.

"Why would they be?" Mace asked blithely. "I trained them well. They are above pettiness."

Obi-Wan glared at the sky instead of Mace. "Lucky you," he said to the speeder traffic above the Temple.

"I warned you about the consequences of leaving Anakin and Ahsoka out of the loop," Mace reminded him. "You insisted."

"I know." They both stood and began the long walk to the Council chambers elevator.

Mace passed their bamboo dishes onto a waste droid when they passed one then fished around for something in his pocket. "And you are the one who suggested that they go on the mission that 'killed' you," he pointed out, then popped a mint candy into his mouth.

"I know," Obi-Wan huffed. "I understand that my actions have consequences, Mace, I'm not a child."

"Then why are you so upset?" Mace asked.

"I'm not upset," Obi-Wan said automatically.

Mace rolled his eyes. "You aren't at peace, that's for certain."

"I–" Obi-Wan raised his hands and let them fall. "Ahsoka's never been one to hold a grudge at all, let alone at me. I expected the cold shoulder from Anakin, but not her."

"Ah. She's still hurt, then."

"She's got no reason to be hurt," Obi-Wan insisted.

"She discovered your 'corpse,' my old friend," Mace said.

"Please, p-please Bobi, open your eyes, open your… no, no, no, please no, Bobi please–"

"Would you really be so unmoved if you'd discovered hers?"

She fell to the ground like a ragdoll, dead from a single touch. Her limbs were twisted and her yellow eyes stayed open, filmy and veined with black like the rest of the Dark Side corruption that covered her.

He banished the memories. "That's different," Obi-Wan insisted. "We are not meant to outlive our Padawans."

"Yet we do." Mace called the elevator. "More and more often, it seems. And I do not see that changing until this war is over."

That reminded him. "Have you discussed your idea with Master Yoda?" Obi-Wan asked quietly.

"It's difficult to find a good time to propose an assassination," Mace answered. "Especially the assassination of his old Padawan."

The elevator arrived. The two Masters stepped on and began the journey up.

"You've discussed it with Quinlan?" Mace asked.

"I have. He's not unwilling."

"Good to know."

The two fell silent, and Obi-Wan commanded the mental image of Ahsoka's corpse lying at the feet of her killer to stop popping into his thoughts. The encounter on Mortis felt like a dream. He still wasn't sure what had actually happened, what was real and what was a vision, but the memory of Anakin's yellow eyes and his little girl lying dead and corrupted by the Dark side haunted him at the most inopportune moments.

May he become one with the Force before ever seeing such horrors again.

The elevator opened. The two walked down the hall to the inside of the Council chambers and took their seats in companionable silence. They were still a bit early, and no one else had yet arrived.

"Caleb was not supposed to be in active combat yet," Mace said after a few moments. "In case you were wondering. The mission he was assigned was a scouting mission. The droids were a surprise."

"Do you think I'm judging you, old friend?" Obi-Wan asked with a raised brow.

"No, but I thought you may want to know." Mace leaned back with an unreadable expression on his face. "He is very skilled, but I personally would prefer he not be on the front lines until he gains more experience."

Obi-Wan remembered Ahsoka eagerly bouncing off of the transport and straight onto the front lines of one of the most gruesome campaigns of the early war. "I understand," he said gently. "Unfortunately, there's only one way to get experience."

"I'm aware." The muscle in Mace's jaw worked a bit before he settled into his usual serenity.

"Greetings, Master Windu. Master Kenobi." Shaak-Ti's hologram flickered into view and she bowed her head.

The two men bowed theirs in return. "How fares Kamino?" Obi-Wan asked lightly.

"Sunny, for a change," Shaak-Ti said with a small smile. "The cadets have been training outside all day on the landing pads."

Mace smiled at her. "I'm happy to hear it."

"As am I," Plo said pleasantly. He and Depa bowed from the entrance, Yoda hobbling beside them. Depa spared a fond smile for her old Master as she took her seat, which Mace returned.

More holograms popped up; Kit Fisto, Ki-Adi-Mundi, Saesee Tiin, Agen Kolar, Coleman Kcaj, Luminara Unduli, Oppo Rancisis, and Stass Allie were all still on the front lines. Kit's hologram was cross-legged and floating subtly, broadcasting underwater from the ocean world of Klarn.

"Begin, we shall," Yoda said after clearing his throat. "May the Force guide us as we proceed."

Murmurs of agreement followed him.

"May I be the first to compliment Master Kenobi's haircut," Kit's hologram grinned at him.

"Thank you, Master," Obi-Wan deadpanned, resisting the urge to scratch his blasted scalp again.

"We are all very glad to see you alive and well," Shaak-Ti added with a twinkle in her eye. "You should stay close-shaven. You look twenty years younger."

Obi-Wan sighed. He was very aware; it was half the reason he had grown the beard in the first place. Shaak-Ti's tinkling giggle rang like a bell at his reaction.

A round of chuckles echoed her and Mace held up a hand to quiet them. "Our first order of business," he began with a smile, reading off a datapad, "is– oh." His smile disappeared and his eyebrows went up as he glanced over at Obi-Wan. "Padawan Ahsoka Tano has requested to speak with us."

Obi-Wan sat at attention. "She has?" he asked, surprised.

"Go ahead and send her in," Mace said into the comlink in his chair. "Do you know what this is about?" he asked Obi-Wan curiously.

Obi-Wan shook his head. "I've no idea," he answered.

The chamber doors opened and Obi-Wan watched Ahsoka step primly inside, pointedly not looking at him despite his centrality in her line of sight. He crossed his legs and frowned.

"Koh-to-yah, little 'Soka," Plo said. "Why have you come before us today?"

"Koh-to-yah, Master Plo. And thank you for allowing me to speak with you on such short notice, Masters," Ahsoka said politely. She made a deep bow and stood with perfect posture, her hands clasped in front of her. "I wish that this was not necessary, but as a Jedi I am a mandated reporter of abuse. If I witness the mistreatment of a child, I must speak up."

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow, his ire easing. "What did you witness, dear?" he asked, the epithet slipping out automatically.

Her eyes slid onto him and he was immediately taken aback by how cold they were. "I need to report that there is a twelve-year-old human child being held in a maximum security prison facility alongside murderers, rapists, and violent criminals of all sorts right here on Coruscant," she said icily.

Obi-Wan's stomach dropped. He already knew who she was referring to, and cac, it should have been him reporting it. He'd completely forgotten about his encounter with Boba Fett. He had been so consumed with not just keeping his cover and managing Bane, but blocking the Force bond he shared with his Padawans in order to sell his death that Boba had simply slipped his mind. Force, the shock of seeing a twelve-year-old clone in the middle of supermax dissipated almost as soon as it had struck and Obi-Wan had just… left him there. He felt an alkaline knot of guilt twist around his belly.

There was a smattering of surprised gasps among the Councilors.

"Who is this child?" Depa demanded.

"What could he have possibly done to be imprisoned?" Ki-Adi-Mundi asked, bewildered.

Master Luminara shook her head. "We must contact the Guard at once, surely there was an error–"

Ahsoka held up a hand. "The boy is Boba Fett, Masters. After his failed attempt on Master Windu's life, he was sent to the Republic Judiciary Central Detention Center."

Looks of grim understanding passed between the Council members. Mace leaned forward. "He's in an adult prison?" he asked, anger coloring the edges of his voice. "Has he been there since he was taken into custody?"

"It would appear so, Master, yes."

Mace sank back, frowning severely. "I recommended leniency," he murmured, almost to himself. "The Chancellor assured me his age and his trauma would be taken into account. I believed he'd be sent to a juvenile facility at worst."

"As did I," Plo said heatedly. "Adult prison, for a child. This is not justice."

"Padawan Tano, find out this information, how did you?" Yoda asked, frowning.

"Well, Master," she said, turning, and Obi-Wan was slightly mollified to hear her address Yoda with the same frostbitten tone. She still hadn't forgiven him for Dogma. The clone was thankfully still alive, as Shaak-Ti had made enough of a fuss on Kamino to have gotten him imprisoned instead of immediately euthanized, but Ahsoka wouldn't be satisfied until he was back in the 501st. "I was viewing the helmet-cam footage from the prison riot that Master Kenobi participated in, and–"

"Is that footage not classified?" Ki-Adi-Mundi interrupted, frowning.

"The report is, but the footage was not, no," she said. "I watched it multiple times, and after I saw Master Kenobi fighting Boba I checked his report." Her eyes flicked onto him and then back to Ki-Adi-Mundi. "There's no mention of Boba in the non-redacted portions."

There was no mention of Boba in it at all, because Obi-Wan had forgotten about him like an idiot. His cheeks burned with embarrassment. A dozen heads turned and stared at him, and he'd never missed his beard more than he did at that moment.

"You fought Boba Fett?" Plo asked him sharply.

"Moralo Eval paid him to start a brawl with me in order to provide a distraction for his and Bane's escape," Obi-Wan said, staring at Ahsoka. She was very carefully studying her boots. He'd bought her those boots. "After I inserted myself into the escape party I… lost track of him."

"He is very small for his age," Ahsoka said with false sympathy. "I know you had bigger concerns at the time, Master Kenobi."

Obi-Wan's skin crawled like it was covered in ants. All of the extra blood rushing to his face was making his stubble itchier than ever.

"We will contact the Chancellor regarding Boba immediately, Ahsoka," Plo insisted, on the edge of his seat and visibly displeased. "We will ensure the boy is placed into a foster home and receives mind healing. Thank you for your diligence, and for bringing this injustice to our attention."

"Thank you, Master," Ahsoka said with a smile, then bowed to him. Obi-Wan felt irrationally jealous of the warmth in her tone. "But I am not sure that a foster home would be the best fit for Boba. He's young, but skilled at both combat and subterfuge. I'm concerned that he would escape and be at just as much risk on his own." She frowned. "He would likely seek out his father's old compatriots again."

"A fair concern," Kit conceded, his smile long gone.

"Do you have a suggestion?" Depa asked mildly.

Ahsoka clicked her heels together. "I would like to volunteer to serve as Boba's temporary legal guardian until I can reunite him with his family," she said solemnly.

The Council chamber went silent in surprise.

"You're only sixteen," Obi-Wan said faintly. "You can't–"

"Actually, as sixteen is the age of responsibility on Shili, I can," she said frostily. "I am a legal adult."

"It's seventeen on Coruscant," he argued. "You–"

"I believe that if I am trusted to lead a battalion of clone troopers into combat, I should be trusted to safeguard the well-being of a single child," she said, speaking over him. "And according to the most recent immigration statutes passed in the Senate, as a full, dual citizen of both worlds, I am actually considered a legal adult on Coruscant." She smiled at him, all teeth.

"Does he have a family?" Saesee Tiin asked. "I was under the impression that Jango Fett was a loner."

"I spoke with the older clones before coming to the Council, Master," Ahsoka said with perfect poise, and Force did it irritate Obi-Wan to see her use her manners for once. "They informed me that there were members of the Cuy'val Dar – that is, the Mandalorian trainers that Jango Fett recruited to train the clones for war – several of them were very close to him. Under the Mandalorian tradition, some could be considered family."

"What an excellent idea, Padawan," Plo said. "I would be grateful if you would come with me to meet with the Chancellor. I'm certain that you will be able to help me persuade him of the right course of action. We will seek out these Cuy'val Dar together, and reunite young Boba with what family remains to him."

Ahsoka bowed again. "It would be my honor, Master," she said sweetly.

Obi-Wan continued to silently seethe.

"Thank you again, Masters, for taking the time to speak with me," she said warmly, then her eyes flickered over to Obi-Wan. "I do hope that Master Kenobi is not censured too severely for failing to report such egregious abuse of a child. I'm certain he was simply preoccupied with his mission."

That was it. Ahsoka did not get to march into the Council chambers wearing boots that he had bought for her and humiliate him in front of his peers out of childish spite. Obi-Wan's hand slammed down onto the arm of his chair, startling everyone. "A word, Padawan," he said through gritted teeth.

"Of course, Master Kenobi," she said serenely.

He stood and led her brusquely from the Council chamber by her right bicep, ignoring the whispers of his fellow Council members behind them.

"An deach thu às mo chiall?" he hissed once the doors had closed and they had a spot of privacy. He released her arm and glared down at her. "Carson a tha thu a’ toirt eas-urram dhomh?"

"Apologies, Master Kenobi," Ahsoka said politely. "I didn't intend to publicly disrespect you."

He stared down at her. Her refusal to speak Maor-Grásta back to him hurt more than the silent treatment. That was their language. No one else at the Temple spoke the indigenous language of the planet crudely known as Stewjon, not even Anakin, though he had tried to teach him. "So this is how you're going to be, then?" he asked finally.

She blinked at him. "I'm not sure what you mean, Master."

"You damn well do," he snapped, and finally gave in to the urge to scratch his damn scalp. "This is childish of you, Ahsoka. You're better than this."

"Better than what?" she asked, cocking her head. "I've been nothing but polite, Master, but if you find my conduct unbecoming then I apologize. I will meditate on our interaction until Master Plo calls me to meet with the Chancellor." She bowed and turned to leave.

Obi-Wan caught her by the left arm and spun her back around. She hissed in pain and ripped her arm away.

"Please refrain from putting your hands on me, Master Kenobi," she said frostily.

Obi-Wan stared at her, knowing that if he asked what was wrong with her arm he'd get no answer. "I'm not putting my… Ahsoka, please, stop this."

"I'm not sure what you wish me to stop, Master."

"Stop acting like you've never met me before!" Obi-Wan said, raising his voice in frustration.

For just a second, her placid mask crumbled and he saw the devastation she was hiding underneath. The mask reappeared and she looked away, pursed her lips and shrugged. "Recent events have shown that I haven't, Master," she said quietly. "Not really."

Obi-Wan sagged and this time, he didn't stop her from walking away.

Ahsoka went through her mental checklist again. She couldn't muck this up. If she somehow pissed off Chancellor Palpatine or failed to convince him that Boba didn't belong in supermax, the kid was screwed.

"Do not be nervous, little 'Soka," Plo whispered, squeezing Ahsoka's right shoulder reassuringly. They sat together on a plush bench in a waiting area right outside the Chancellor's office.

"I can't help it, Master," she whispered back. "What if I make it even worse, somehow?"

"I would advise you, respectfully of course, to think of what your Master would not do and try that."

Ahsoka snorted. His aura was a little too gold with humor for the seriousness of the situation.

"Trust in the Force. We are in the right, here, and we know this."

She nodded. "Yes, Master."

"You may enter," one of Chancellor Palpatine's secretaries called from the doorway; a short, plump Human woman with black hair shorn down to the scalp and the pale skin of someone who worked and lived exclusively indoors.

Ahsoka took a deep breath and let it out slowly, then followed Master Plo to the Chancellor's office. He was still sitting at his desk, writing something with an electric pen that showed up as a language she didn't recognize on the left side of his desk.

"Master Koon," the Chancellor smiled, and bowed his head. "And Padawan Ahsoka. My, how you've grown since I last saw you! I must say, Anakin raves about you every time we meet. He is very proud of you."

"Thank you, Chancellor," Ahsoka said sheepishly, ducking her head. There was nothing specific about the Chancellor himself that put her on edge, it was the office. There was just something unnerving about it. The statues of the Four Sages seemed to watch her from their posts bordering the room, and some of the art vibrated weirdly in the Force. Nothing she could pin down, just off.

She peered down at the unfamiliar writing on the Chancellor's desk. "That's a beautiful script," she said, projecting her aura out over the room with green serenity-amiability. It helped block out the weird vibrations of his artwork. "I don't recognize it."

"It's the poet's script," the Chancellor said, his naturally violet aura gone blue with appreciation. "It's an old traditional practice on Naboo. It's never been a spoken language, but one used solely for the arts."

"That's fascinating," Ahsoka said, returning his smile. "Do you write poetry, Chancellor?"

He chuckled and looked down, darkening with humility. "Oh, I dabble," he confessed with a smile. "It's a bit self-indulgent, of course, but it calms my mind."

"Nonsense, Chancellor," Plo assured him. "It is good to know that even in this period of war and violence, our leader makes time to create something beautiful for the galaxy."

Ahsoka was impressed. Plo could give Ob– Master Kenobi a run for his credits when it came to schmoozing.

"Ah, well," the Chancellor shrugged, his smile widening. "I doubt you called for an emergency meeting to discuss my poetry, dear. What can I do for you?"

Ahsoka sat up straight. "There has been a grave miscarriage of justice, Chancellor," she said solemnly. "Boba Fett has been placed into supermax alongside adults instead of a juvenile facility. He is a Fett clone, yes, but totally unaltered. He ages at a normal rate, not the accelerated rate of the troopers." She adjusted her projection to include a yellow ribbon of pity. "He's only twelve, Sir. Every second he spends in that place his life, his- his bodily sanctity is at risk."

Chancellor Palpatine went gray with surprise. "Oh, goodness," he said, immediately swiping away his poetry and summoning Boba's file up to the holoscreen of his desk. "Let me see here– ah." His holoscreen filled up with copies of legal documents, medical records, and crime scene holopics. "It seems that the judge presiding over his case determined that he was too dangerous to be kept in a juvenile facility." He glanced at her. "I cannot say that I disagree. He is unnaturally skilled for a boy his age, from what I have heard. He killed a Marshall Commander."

"Respectfully, Chancellor, Commander Ponds was murdered by Aurra Sing. Boba could not pull the trigger," Master Plo gently corrected.

"I understand the risks, Chancellor," Ahsoka said. "I would like to volunteer to serve as his legal guardian until I can reunite him with his father's Mandalorian family."

The Chancellor's eyebrows almost hit his hairline. "Jango Fett had family?" he asked, going a lighter gray with shock.

"In the Mandalorian tradition of found family, yes," Ahsoka nodded.

"So young Boba would escape punishment for his crimes against the Republic?" the Chancellor asked after a moment of curt silence.

"Boba Fett is but a child, Chancellor," Plo said peacefully. "He was manipulated by individuals that were once acquainted with his father and they used his grief to their advantage. They abandoned him at the first opportunity."

The Chancellor nodded, thinking. "That may be so, Master Koon, but he did kill hundreds of his fellow clones through his actions."

"He did, Chancellor, that can't be disputed," Ahsoka said softly, projecting strong amber amenability at him. "But he's an orphan, and he's twelve. He's exceptionally vulnerable to manipulation by adults that knew his father. They're the only connection he has left to him."

"The cadets that he infiltrated reported that he seemed reluctant to leave them to their fate," Plo piped up. "While his quest was misguided from the start, his target was Master Windu. The loss of clone life and the destruction of The Endurance was wholly unintentional."

"While sabotaging the hyperdrive of The Endurance, he had an opportunity to end the life of clone trooper Rivers," Ahsoka added. "He spared his life and stunned him instead. We truly believe that if not for the presence of Aurra Sing, Castas, and Bossk, he never would have taken that step."

"So you propose instead that I pardon the one who killed hundreds of clone troopers, naval officers, and support staff on account of his age?" Chancellor Palpatine steepled his hands underneath his chin and looked at her sympathetically. "I'm sorry, my dear, but I cannot in good conscience do such a thing. Aside from the morality of it, the boy could wreak untold damage if he escaped your custody."

"I promise he won't!" Ahsoka exclaimed, leaning forward. "Please, Chancellor. I know he made a terrible error in judgment that cost many lives, but he's twelve."

"So you've said," the Chancellor said dryly, lowering his hands. "Ahsoka–"

Ahsoka impulsively reached across his desk and clasped his hands. "He needs rehabilitation, not a life sentence before it's even began," she said earnestly. She wouldn't go so far as to try and mind trick him, not with Plo right there, but her Empathy was stronger with physical touch. She let burnt-orange supplication roll down her arms and flow from her hands onto his. "Please, Chancellor," she said, popping her porg eyes. "Just give him a chance."

The Chancellor's aura flushed copper with affection-agreement. "You do make a compelling argument," he said fondly, withdrawing his hands after giving hers a squeeze. "The Great Negotiator has taught you well."

Ahsoka ducked her head with a small smile, trying not to let him feel the cold shock of hurt that Master Kenobi's nickname triggered.

"Very well." He raised his chin to look over Ahsoka's shoulder at his secretary. "Go fetch Commander Fox, please."

"Right away, Sir." The secretary scurried off and the Chancellor drew up a document.

"I shall grant Boba Fett a full pardon, effective immediately," he said, then glanced up at Ahsoka with a smile. He transferred something onto a datapad and handed it to her. It was a legal certificate declaring her the legal guardian of one Boba Fett.

Oh, kriff, she hadn't actually let herself believe that she'd get this far. She had a kid. She had a shabla kid. A shabla clone kid.

"Congratulations, my dear, it's a boy," he said with a small chuckle and a wink. "I do hope Anakin isn't too cross with you. I can't imagine that he expected to become a grandfather quite this early."

Ahsoka's stripes went hot. Her Master… was not going to be pleased with her, to put it lightly, but she just couldn't leave Boba in there a second longer than necessary if she could put a stop to it.

"Please, 'Soka, you have to get him out of there," Rex pleaded, staring at the screen with an aura gone stark white with shock-horror-outrage. "He's so little. They'll kill him, they'll– osik, what have they already done to him–"

She would have done it anyway, but Force if Rex's begging wasn't compelling. She'd break Boba out if she had to.

But really, Anakin was going to kill her once he got back from Toydaria with that Force-sensitive toddler.

"Commander!" Chancellor Palpatine said brightly over Ahsoka's shoulder. "Please escort Master Koon and Padawan Tano down to the detention center. Boba Fett is being released into her custody, effective immediately."

"Oh. Interesting. As you say, Sir," Fox said, then turned to Ahsoka and Plo. "Ready whenever you both are," he nodded.

"Take care, Ahsoka," Chancellor Palpatine said warmly, standing along with them. "And do be on guard with young Boba. From what I understand, the boy is quite crafty, despite his tender age."

"Oh I will, Chancellor, don't worry. I remember how much of a handful he was." Ahsoka bowed and tried to ignore the way the statues of the sages stared at her. "Thank you again. You've saved a life today."

"And my thanks as well, Chancellor," Plo added, bowing after her. "We appreciate your expediency."

"I wish you luck in your endeavor, my dear." Palpatine winked at her. "And don't be afraid to visit more often. I've got some stories about Anakin as a youth that you might enjoy."

Ahsoka's stripes flushed again and she picked at her thumb's cuticle.

"Alright, General, Commander. Let's get you over to the prison before sundown." Fox slung his carbine over his shoulder and led the way out.

Boba curled up tighter on his side, willing the pain in his sides to go away. After he'd jumped Hardeen it had been chaos. He wasn't sure if it was the guards or the other bastards he was locked in here with that had broken his ribs, but it didn't really matter. He needed to get better. He couldn't afford to look weak. Prison was worse than a jungle, at least an animal just killed you and was done with it. The predators here liked to play with their food, first.

"Come on, little man, come bunk with me. I know it gets cold at night, you must be shivering with only a lizard to keep you warm–"

At least in solitary Boba could focus all of his energy on healing instead of defending himself. He chewed on his split lip and readjusted his face against the wall so that his black eye was pressed directly against the cold surface.

"Time to go, Fett."

Boba was sitting upright and ready to respond in under a second. Nobody would know by looking at him that he was holding his breath so as not to scream from the pain. One meiloorun, two meiloorun, three meiloorun–

"Go where?" he asked after a few seconds, cool as a caniphant. Fox, on the other side of the bars, had two DC-17 sidearms, a DC-15A carbine, and two vibroblade hits sticking out from his gauntlets. Two pairs of cuffs hung from his belt next to a small canister of capsaicin spray.

Boba could get to the spray the easiest, kick the back of Fox's knee, twist his arm and grab the blaster–

"It's your lucky day, cyar'solus," Fox said, undoing the biometric locks on his cell.

"Don't call me that," he snapped. Damn it, Boba didn't want to go back to genpop yet, he was still too injured. The guards tried to watch out for him; some of them did, anyway, the ones who didn't hiss vod'kyramud when he passed them in the halls. Bossk usually stuck up for him but he was just one man. Boba already had a size disadvantage, but with his ribs fucked his speed suffered. He eyed the capsaicin spray at Fox's belt again. He'd get his ass kicked if he went for it, but they'd keep him in solitary longer. Fox had the frame of a gundark but he wasn't a shabuir, he would just give him another lump or two before locking his cell again instead of rebreaking things on purpose.

Fox snickered. "I'll call you whatever I want. Now face down on the floor, you know how this works."

Yeah, he did. Boba swallowed hard and carefully got on his belly, watching the canister of spray swing closer. The floor was hard but the cold felt good. He took a deep breath and prepared to make his move.

As if Fox knew what he'd been thinking, he walked around him in a wide circle and approached from behind before cuffing him. He pulled Boba to his feet, gentler than he expected. "You're being given a second chance, kid," he said quietly. "Don't kark it up."

"The fuck does that mean?" Boba asked faintly; even with Fox's careful grip, he wasn't able to draw in air properly with the way his ribs were screaming.

"You're getting out."

"What?" Boba tried to spin around and look at Fox, but he kept a firm hold of his cuffed hands and kept him from turning.

"Walk, squirt," Fox said in a bored voice.

Where was he going? Where were they sending him? It hit him then, what had to have happened; Aurra. He knew she wouldn't abandon him. She'd had to make a tactical retreat, that was all. Somehow she'd pulled in a favor or used her connections in the guild, or maybe even kidnapped a judge. He fought down a smirk as they walked past the other inmates, all howling and hissing and complaining about his special treatment.

He was foolish to have given up on Aurra. She really did care about him.

"Stand here." Fox started undoing the locks to the hall that led to the private interview rooms, the ones that prisoners used to meet with their attorneys.

Boba never had an attorney. He had gone through sentencing on his own.

"Alright, walk." Fox took him by the cuffs and shoved him forward through the door. "And be respectful."

"Respectful to who?" Boba grouched.

"Your new mum," Fox snickered, stopping in front of a door halfway down the hall. "Congratulations. You've been adopted."

Boba whipped his head up so fast that black spots appeared in his eyes. "I've been fucking what?" he squeaked.

Fox pushed him inside of the interview room while he was still reeling. Instead of Aurra, the two Jedi who had arrested him were waiting inside; a Kel Dor who towered over everyone, even Fox, and a scrawny orange Togruta with big blue bug eyes and two sabers on her belt. She was taller than he remembered.

"Koh-to-yah, Boba Fett," the Kel Dor said, bowing to him. "I am Jedi Master Plo Koon, and this is Padawan Ahsoka Tano."

"The fuck do you cunts want?" Boba spat, furious at himself for being so stupid that he thought Aurra would come for him. He was such a gullible di'kut. Of course she didn't really care. He was never anything but clout to her, just something of Jango's that she could show off.

The Tog blinked at him, obviously shocked. The little princess obviously wasn't used to bad language. "I, um, I…"

"Go ahead, Ahsoka," the Kel Dor said with a little pat on her back.

She took a deep breath, stepped forward, and then smiled and placed a hand on his shoulder. He felt the tension in his back muscles ease a little, weirdly enough. "I want to get you out of here, if that's alright with you."

"Why the fuck should I go anywhere with you?" Boba asked suspiciously, then backed up so he could keep the both of them in plain view. "You're the cunts who put me in here. Why do you care?"

"We never meant for you to be placed in a place such as this, young man," the Kel Dor said apologetically.

"We want to help you find your family, Boba," the Tog said earnestly.

"Are you both fucking stupid?" Boba snapped. "I don't have any family. The Jedi killed the only family I had."

The Tog and Kel Dor exchanged looks. "I know, Boba," the Tog said. "And I'm sorry for your loss."

Boba looked at his feet.

"Why don't we be on our way?" the Kel Dor suggested. "We have much to discuss, but there's no need to do so on an empty stomach. I find myself craving a milkshake."

"Oooh, I could go for a milkshake," the Tog said with her brow markings raised. "How about you, Boba?"

"I don't want a fucking milkshake, I want to know what's going on!" Boba said, backing up into Fox. He… he needed to get away from these people. They had some sort of weird plan for him, he was sure of it. What if they wanted to send him back to Kamino? Maybe they wanted to string him up in a lab and use him to make more of their precious troopers. Without Dad the longnecks couldn't make them like they used to, and Boba was a perfect copy. "What did Fox mean? He said I was going to meet my new mum, what did he mean by that?"

The Tog bit her lip and looked at him. "That, um, that would be me," she said sheepishly. "I… I'm your legal guardian."

"You're my legal guardian?" Boba stared at her. She looked barely older than him, though she was a lot taller than he remembered.

"Yep," she said happily, rocking back on her heels. "So, what do you say? Ready to go?"

Boba glanced up at Fox, who gave him a reassuring nod. "Not like I have a fucking choice, do I?" he asked sullenly.

"No, you don't," the Kel Dor – Koon, Boba remembered he said his name was – said gently. "But I imagine that you would choose to leave the Republic Judiciary Central Detention Center."

"Obviously," Boba said, frowning.

"So." Koon shrugged. "Shall we?"

The Tog smiled brightly at him. He realized that she was nervous, and for some reason that made him feel better.

"Fine." Boba rubbed his wrists after Fox unlocked his cuffs. Whatever. Fox didn't need to help him, he could do this on his own. He just had to stick with them long enough to get out of prison. The second the idiots turned their backs, he'd be out of there. Boba glanced up and met the Tog's nervous gaze. "But I'm not calling you fucking Mum."

Author's Notes:

MAOR-GRÁSTA TRANSLATIONS An deach thu às mo chiall?: Have you gone insane? Carson a tha thu a’ toirt eas-urram dhomh?: Why are you disrespecting me? MANDO'A TRANSLATIONS cyar'solus: beloved one, the clones' nickname for Boba since he was a special snowflake chosen baby (Thank you Squid_Ink 😘) shabuir: motherfucker vod'kyramud: brother-killer osik: shit OTHER NOTES Mace has a picture of all of his padawans and grand-padawans in his wallet and he shows everyone constantly. It's canon, George Lucas actually told me himself. Palpatine was pretty easy to convince, wasn't he? It's almost like he likes sowing discord between Anakin and his loved ones hmm odd yes very odd indeed Ponds was promoted for plot related purposes ✌️

Taglist: @starwarsficnetwork @soliloquy-of-nemo Dividers: @saradika-graphics

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battlekilt · 4 months

Note

Hey Kilt, from the WIP game, can you tell me something about the Little Troopers? *___*

Since I know you love Fox, I'll talk about Fox.

Little Trooper Fox is the return of Tintin, and he reclaims his reign of terror and menacry with proper Foxy fashion.

Fox was little-fied somewhere near the Chancellor. Thus, he's imprinted on the Chancellor. He doesn't understand why, but he is supposed to be near that old man.

This is bad... because good ole Sheev reveals himself to—HATE—children. Oh, he doesn't say that he hates them. However, it is quite evident how badly he is around a tiny little bitey Fox.

Fox never had a "Jedi," so he doesn't imprint immediately on any of those who take guardianship of Clones—usually their CCs. Unfortunately, Fox has a low tolerance for being alone and feeling abandoned—it hurts him, it really, really hurts. Riyo offers to take him. However, Fox kind of has a tantrum at the suggestion of being removed from all the other little Clones.

He ends up becoming Mace Windu's problem.

Master Windu reveals himself to have known more about Commander Fox than expected because Ponds talked about his childhood friends a lot. Mace didn't talk about this with anyone because he felt like it was someone revealing something private, and he wanted to respect that. Also, what he learned felt... like something meaningful he enjoyed having to himself.

The point was that Mace knew more about Tintin than anyone expected. That didn't mean that he wasn't taken aback by how much the kid could talk and talk and talk and talk or the escapades that went on when Fox got an itch to "explore", aka, get into trouble. Dealing with someone so uniquely food-motivated is easy for Mace and helps him encourage Fox to do what he wants. That... affection and attention also get Fox to do anything opposite his usual mayhem.

That's right, folks. Fox is an affection whore. Little Fox would DENY that he wants to snug up against his Jedi like Wolffe does with his Jedi, Master Plo. But, what is a tyke to do when he is offered a reading session?

Speaking of Wolffe and Fox—two food-motivated Clones? Fox is always stealing food from other Littles, and this is one of the only ways to trigger an aggressive response out of Darling Wolffe.

This actually goes into an event I want to share that will fully show Fox's true character.

The usual band of Little CCs—Cody, Wolffe, bb Rex, Bly, and Fox—are playing in the Hall of Fountains. Their usually observant Jedi are chattering together in a circle while the kids just run around.

There is a BIG OLE SCREAM! Ever heard a small child scream from pain and fear? Ever seen what it does to any adults in the vicinity?

Instinct is strong.

The Jedi RAN towards the scream. There they find the little Clones gathered around a Fox that is on the floor, crying his little heart out, face scrunched up with all his emotions, and a hand holding the same side of his head.

Fox has fallen and hit his head.

And he is full-on acting like this is going to be the death of him. TRAGEDY, we say, tragedy.

One of the Jedi asks what happened, and the others explain that Wolffe pushed Fox... which is why Fox is making the scene that he is. Unfortunately, the scene looks kind of bad for Wolffe, which is typically out of character for him—he is one of the calmest of them, the most people-pleasing of the bunch, and very sensitive on behalf of others.

Except Fox is a master at pushing other people's buttons. Push. Push. Jab... JABjabJABjabJABjabJABjabJABjab. No matter what, someone shouldn't push.

Wolffe looks ready to burst into tears.

Now, until then, Fox hasn't really said anything. He's just sobbed for his tragedy. There might have been some blubbering about the AGONY. But, when it looks like Wolffe might actually be held responsible or even reprimanded—a reminder, Wolffe is very sensitive, and one whiff of disapproval from those in authority, especially Plo, and the guy's world is OVER—Fox says through his tears—

"He didn't MEAN to do it! He didn't push HARD. I tripped!"

This story will be significant to summarize the character of our Commander Fox, even as a tyke. He will cause mischief. He will pester and bother on purpose or not. He will talk anyone's ear off. And... he bites.

Doesn't mean that he's going to let someone take blame or condemnation for something they were not responsible for, especially if it would hurt them like it would hurt Wolffe.

Mace was mighty proud of his little menace that day. He also wasn't surprised in the least bit.

Meme Ref.

#au: little troopers #tag game: wip #clone: fox

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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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mysticmjolnir · 11 months

Text

Acting Choices

Sheev Palpatine: shakespearian subtlety, his eyes are so clear and speaking. He's doing his best in a galaxy of full strife, he has the deepest respect for all his colleagues, even those who don't seem to like him very much, he's sure they have their reasons. The privileges of office, he would say barely matter, while brushing a stray silk thread from his sleeve, when compared to the burdens of office, the weight of duty upon him to the republic and its people. But those burdens, of course, he never truly thinks of such matters, he would not let himself be distracted from the task at hand. Unlike some that he could name - though, naturally, he would never do so. Slippery bastard, machiavellian in the truest sense perhaps, mad with power but also frighteningly sane.

He is surrounded by corruption, but obviously remains apart and opposed to it - what is he to do, in the face of such inquiity? He's only one man, limited by the law (which he writes and passes), limited by his enemies (numerous, ever-growing and all traitors), and limited by his own conscience (the republic! we must preserve her values, even if others fall prey to temptation and avarice). If you have any concerns and questions, he will gladly hear them, if you have solutions to propose then he is eager to listen! But as you speak your ideas, once so definite and clear to you, will turn to muddy oil and slip away, and he will offer comfort and staunch support that amounts to nothing but ash once you've left his presence. And if you manage to persist, then he will smile and promise progress, but you will be dismissed and you will be sidelined and some unfortunate things will happen to your self and your reputation and your resources.

Toxic masculinity played in the softest tone, patronising and grandfatherly enough to diminish you to nothing but a child in need of guidance and distraction.

"So may the outward shows be least themselves: The world is still deceived with ornament. In law, what plea so tainted and corrupt, But, being seasoned with a gracious voice, Obscures the show of evil?" Act III Scene 2, The Merchant of Venice, William Shakespeare, 1597ish

Darth Sidious: I am a pantomime villain who will electrocute you, I am the most sinister creature alive and also the goofiest, I spent decades of my life wearing the Nice Man mask and I resent every moment I had to pretend I wasn't the cleverest, most powerful and most important being alive. I lived under the yoke of subtlety for too long, now it's time to reap the benefits, which include ULTIMATE POWER and also never having to give a single shit about what anyone thinks of me ever again.

"Hence it is to be noted that when seizing power a conqueror ought to examine closely all the damage he must inflict, and inflict it all at once so that he is not obliged to repeat it daily; because by not repeating it, he can reassure men and win them over to his side with the favors he distributes. Whoever acts otherwise, out of either timidity or bad advice, always needs to carry a sword in his hand; he can never count on his subjects, who will never feel secure with him because of their recent and continual abuses. Abuses ought to be inflicted all at once - the shorter savoured, the less resented; favours ought to be distributed gradually so that they will be the better savoured" - Chapter Eight, The Prince, Niccolo Machiavelli, 1532

#sheev palpatine #darth sidious #i don't really know what i'm trying to say here #i love mcdiarmid's performance so very much #no-one has ever had a better or more fun role to play on film #i have no idea how to make this more readable either visually or textually #i just needed some thoughts out

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count-doodoo · 6 months

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it occurs to me that if i liveblog the whole book in one thread the scrolling might drive everyone nuts. so this mess is all gonna be tagged djl liveblog.

SO. PART 1 CONT'D

(spoilers for jedi lost below the cut)

I THOUGHT THAT'S WHAT YOU WANTED. DOO DOO DOOKU. DOO DOO DOO. IDIOT. I LOVE THEM YOUR HONOR.

SHOVE IT UP YOUR RECHARGE COUPLING

NO YOU WON'T!!! SIFO!!!! HE KNOWS DOOKU SO WELL

god he's such a drama queen. he's describing HIS OWN ACTIONS. and yet, he says, "without warning".

also, star wars is ridiculous. HOOPALOO.

IT'S A CHILD! (idk i cackled at that line for some reason)

also

WE USE IT TO PRACTICE AGAINST DUMMIES. LIKE YOU. OH MY GOD MAYBE IT'S GOOD HE NEVER REALLY MET OBI. we would not have survived the combined powers of their battlefield snark. fucking hells.

I ALREADY HAVE UNFORTUNATELY. OH MY GOD YOUNG DOOKU IS PRECIOUS. PROTECT HIM AT ALL COSTS (I AM GOING TO SHIV SHEEV)

YOU ARE ALSO HER IDIOT BROTHER WHICH MAKES THIS SO. MUCH. BETTER.

also do karkran really not eat humans. because i can 100% see young dooku just Knowing that and nonchalantly being like "huh, he's an idiot. he thinks karkran would actually eat humans!"

(cont'd)

immortalizing this here because gods will i never fully understand the dooku-surname-mononym?-idk situation. even JENZA doesn't really understand it.

either way. love this nerdy idiot who just wants to learn about his planet's history!

i love this???? his ass is so fucking dramatic. but it's so...interesting? to hear this sith lord so utterly cognizant of his own mortality. he's so keenly aware that he could have died here, and that history might have been forever changed. idk. i am having Feelings. PLUS the thoughts on everything the hall has survived, only to be brought low by the touch of a curious nerdy tween? *chef's kiss*

ONWARDS AGAIN

#star wars #dooku #dooku jedi lost #dooku jedi lost spoilers #djl liveblog #serenno #yan dooku #<- for organization

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furiosophie · 2 years

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>> memory fragment, sleeping quarters, isd chimaera \\ not categorized

Now when he wakes it’s to an empty bed, sweat-soaked fabric plastered to ice-cold skin, throat scratchy and raw as if something clawed itself from his chest.

---

Thrawn reflects on his time spent without Eli at his side.

post·mor·tem // file 02 [READ ON A03]

ship: Thrawn | Mitth'raw'nuruodo/Eli Vanto

words: 26 818, completed

tags: canon-typical violence, hurt/comfort, angst, which I promise will have a happy ending, but this is the ESB of this trilogy, so for now we're going though it, and so is thrawn, absolutely losing his mind unfortunately, karyn faro deserves a raise, ar'alani tries and fails at being a wingwoman, emotional constipation blue man and space cowboy edition, trigger warning for depiction of intrusive thoughts, and sheev palpatine's general existence, epistolary elements, thrawn pov, more or less canon compliant

series: pt 2/3 of postmortem - excerpts from former grand admiral mitth'raw'nuruodo's private journal of catalogued memories

FILE 01 | FILE 02 | BORIKA INTERLUDE | FILE 03

#thranto #wow i hope this will make any sense #bc i'm telling you combining two seasons of rebels and two full thrawn books #was a wild ride #felt like i was back at uni writing a thesis #if it doesn't make sense just pretend it's bc thrawn is losing his mind #also can confirm blue man space rot is still going strong #if anyone was wondering #thrawn: alliances #thrawn: treason #pls bear with me for pt 3 bc i still need to finish lesser evil before i can write that #thrawn #eli vanto #id in alt text

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bitchin-beskar · 1 year

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Late Night Rendezvous - An April Fools Crack Fic

Rating: E

Pairing: Sheev Palpatine x Jar Jar Binks (yes, seriously)

Warnings: bondage, lingerie, flogging, Jar Jar Binks’ horrid grammar, horrific metaphors, I compare Sheev Palpatine’s dick to a lightsaber and it’s exactly as bad as it sounds, masturbation. I’m so sorry.

Word Count: 955

A/N: This… this is a cursed fic. I blame the discord entirely for encouraging this… this… this blasphemy. This is crack, and is NOT meant to be taken seriously. Please. This is not a pairing I ship, I wrote this entirely because it was the most cursed thing I could think of. I’d say enjoy but… you’ll probably wanna bleach you eyeballs if you actually read this.

It was late on Coruscant, very late. Even the most dedicated politicians had gone home hours earlier, and the corrupted ones had finished their own after hours business and were home sleeping in their beds dreaming of power and money and whatever else corrupt politicians dream about. The Senate Building, theoretically, should be empty, aside from a skeleton crew of guards and the custodian droids.

But if one were to look closely, they’d see the soft glow of candlelight coming from the Chancellor’s office. That alone wasn’t unusal, the Chancellor had a certain fondness for the scent of Jorgan fruit candles. But this late at night was certainly strange. If one were to venture closer, they’d realize candles aglow were not the only strange thing about the Chancellor’s office that night.

“Oh! Mesa feel berry, berry strange!”

Now, Senator Binks visiting Chancellor Palpatine was not a strange occurrence. Both were Nubian natives after all, even though Jar Jar was a Gungan and Sheev was human. If one couldn’t find Senator Binks, it was usually a good bet that he’d popped into the Chancellor’s office for what many assumed to be a chat or spot of tea.

Those assumptions could not have been more wrong.

Were someone to enter the Chancellor’s office that night, the chances of them ending up permanently catatonic were astronomically high. For the sight that would greet that unfortunate soul was one that would drive even the most composed, collected, rational being insane.

Spread out on the expensive Nubian silk sheets that adorned the Chancellor’s bed in his attached chambers, was Senator Jar Jar Binks. He was dressed in the finest lingerie, red and black silk and lace accentuating his curves and contrasting quite nicely against the puke-brown of his scaly skin.

His hands and feet were spread apart, tied to each or the four corners of the bed with fuzzy black cuffs. His abnormally long muscular tongue was lolling out of his mouth, and a gorgeous greenish flush spread across his face and exposed chest. His haillu twitched, betraying his nerves.

Across the room, in a decadent armchair, sat Sheev Palpatine, Chancellor of the Galactic Republic. He was enveloped entirely in a velvet robe of the blackest night, the hood drawn up and only revealing his pale, wrinkled chin and his thin, pallid and chapped lips, which were curled into a smirk.

A gnarled, wrinkled hand poked out of the voluminous robes, one finger crooking in a come hither motion, the nail bed a sickly yellow color, akin to jaundiced eyes.

Jar Jar let out a wanton moan as the phantom sensation of the Chancellor’s touch caressed his body, soft and delicate like the feather from the feathered lizards of the forests of Pzob. His lover always started soft, teasing like a little boy pulling pigtails on the playgrounds.

The application of the Force was always unexpected, even after many years of private dalliances and secret rendezvous. It was weird for Jar Jar, the disconnect of seeing his lover across the room with his eye-stalks, yet feeling his loving touch over his scales was one he still had trouble understanding, much like the proper grammar of Galactic Standard Basic.

“Sheev, give mesa more pleasen!”

“You want more, my greedy young Senator?” Sheev crooned, voice dripping sweetness like Vashkan Apidactyl honey.

Before Jar Jar could confirm that he did, indeed, want more, a flogger floated over to the bed and with a quick turn of a crooked finger, the fine bantha leather flashed through the air like a lightsaber, and the crack of it on Jar Jar’s skin made him cry out in ecstasy, the primal noise similar to that of a Acklay’s mating call.

Sheev cackled, rough and throaty like a Gizka. He used the Force to continue to inflict glorious pleasurepain on his lover, whilst simultaneously parting his own voluptuous robes to reveal his hardened man-meat.

His stiffened rod was roughly the same size and shape as the hilt of a lightsaber, and arguably just as deadly. Many an innocent had fallen before his massive saber-dick, and Jar Jar was just the latest in his long list of impressive conquests. The Gungan had lasted longer than expected, and Sheev couldn’t say he was disappointed.

His pale hand wrapped around the turgid length, stroking in time with the sound of the bantha leather cracking against his sweet little Gungan’s skin. The slick sounds of his hand stroking his nerf sausage made the Gungan’s eye stalks swivel over to Sheev’s form, the soft pants falling from his bill creating a symphony worthy of the Coruscanti Orchestra.

Both of them were quickly climbing towards explosive climaxes that would make the destruction of the two Death Stars look like child’s play, if one ignores the timeline jump for a moment.

The sound of bantha leather striking scaly flesh and wrinkled hand stroking swollen man-flesh sped up simultaneously, gasps and groans adding the the musicality of it all as both Sheev and Jar Jar made noises that wouldn’t be out of place in a Rancor pit.

“Mesa close, Sheev! Mesa ganna come!”

“Good, good. Let the pleasure flow through you! Do it, my young Gungan, do it!”

At the same time, Gungan and Human climaxed with rapturous roars, shaking the room and giving any Tatooinian nearby flashbacks to a Krayt Dragon attack. Sheev’s hips shot up and off the seat of his armchair, like Elon Musk’s Space X Rocket. Jar Jar wriggled and writhed in his binds like a particularly slimy Stifling, or perhaps a Quacta.

As both lovers came down from their orgasmic highs, they knew this was going to be far from the last time they engaged in such pleasures of the flesh.

#crack fanfic #crack post #crack!fic #sheev palpatine #jar jar binks #sheev palpatine x jar jar binks #do not take this seriously #smut #18+#I wouldn’t read this if I were you #April fools I guess #April fools #AprilFoolsSmutFic

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speedgeek · 10 months

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Sheev Palpatine wasn’t an idiot. He’d known Padmé Amidala as a teenager and the Organa girl was her spitting image. Except for the smirk, that was pure Skywalker. He had never had cause to interact with the girl before her entrance into the Senate. Bail Organa had been intelligent enough to keep the girl from his and Vader’s sight until publicly unveiling her.

So, yes, Palpatine knew from her first moments in the Senate exactly who Leia Organa was.

He’d entertained thoughts of enticing her into his web, certain she’d be as powerful as Vader had been as a youth. Treats, a sympathetic ear, stories of her true parents and the power she was entitled to. The difference in politics was little matter- he was sure he could coax her to his side. He’d been able to manipulate both of her parents easy enough. She was young and reckless, inexperienced in political machinations, but her speeches had shown she had her mother’s keen mind.

A worthy apprentice after the disappointment of Anakin Skywalker.

It was customary for a new Senator to wait to be presented to the Emperor. She was no exception. Unfortunately, her scheduled appointment came on the heels of another public atrocity committed by Vader. Palpatine cared little about the violence his apprentice used, only about the public nature of the debacle. His people were working overtime to ensure the news did not spread further and spin what was public in the Empire’s favor. Vader was en route to answer for his mistakes.

The meeting started out well enough. He’d dismissed the guards and her aides. Tea and Nubian pastries he knew to be Amidala’s favorite were served, they made trivial small talk. She was intelligent, bright, and well-trained. Her words were guarded, deliberate, giving away little. While her words were very much influenced by Bail Organa and reminiscent of Padmé Amidala, the girl had fire in her soul, he was sure.

He would enjoy breaking her.

That was the moment, before Palpatine could even begin to tempt the girl, Vader decided to storm into the throne room and vent his displeasure.

On a normal day, Vader’s casual dismissal of Senators was an annoyance. On this day, it was a catastrophe.

Palpatine was actually impressed with how quickly the situation deteriorated.

Organa pointed out his lack of manners. Vader pointed out the uselessness of the Senate.

Organa pointed out his lack of official position within the Empire, implying he was little more than an errand boy. Vader pointed out her lack of biological parents.

(Get a clue, Anakin.)

Organa pointed out his violent tendencies, also implying she knew far more about the previous day’s events than Palpatine was comfortable with. Vader pointed out she associated with criminals, specifically Obi-Wan Kenobi.

Palpatine just put his head in his hands. Every time he thought he broke his apprentice’s obsession with his former master, Vader would start saying the dreaded name again.

(Was it too late to return him?)

When he looked up, the girl had her hands on her hips and her head tilted to the side, mirroring Vader. It was remarkable how much she resembled teenaged Anakin Skywalker in that moment. The sass coming from her mouth was all Anakin too.

His apprentice was too dense to notice.

His apprentice was also too dense to not to take the bait and stop arguing with a teenager.

“Silence.”

They continued to argue as if he wasn’t in the room. The gall of both of them. He pushed down the urge to unleash force lightning on them both. Appearances must still be maintained, after all.

“Silence!” he roared.

Both startled. The similarity between them would have been comical if he hadn’t been so enraged.

Organa showed the good sense to at least look guilty. She’d had diplomatic training, she surely knew the faux pax she’d just committed. Vader, on the other hand, he didn’t need the force to know Vader was still seething. He’d hardly bothered to use his diplomatic training when he was a Jedi, much less now.

He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t deal with two of them at once.

He refused to spend his time playing referee between father and daughter. Refused.

Maybe if Vader finally got his wish and died, Palpatine would try again. But as it stood, he no longer had any desire to try and break Anakin 2.0 while the original was still around and causing him so many headaches.

“Senator Organa, I apologize for ending our meeting so early, but I must speak to Lord Vader quite urgently.”

The girl glanced at Vader and smirked. “Of course, I understand, your Majesty.”

“Please give my regards to the Queen and the Viceroy.”

“Of course. Good day, your Majesty.” She smirked at Vader as she turned towards the door. “Lord Vader.”

Palpatine waited until the door closed behind her to finally release his anger on his apprentice.

#fic #star wars #palpatine #leia organa #darth vader #anakin skywalker #i wrote this instead of going to sleep #or crocheting #it doesn't have a title #because it ended up a lot longer than i was expecting #it was supposed to just be an idea #i'll post it to ao3 when i think of a title

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2amcheese · 1 year

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Alternate Prompt: Fox kills Palpatine

Made for an alternate prompt of @foxquinweek 2023

3,000 words

Tw: suicidal thoughts, suicide, mentions of self-harm, depression, terrible mental health, major character death

Yeahhhhh this is kinda dark, read at your own risk.

^ao3 link

"~*~" means POV switch, should be obvious who it's switching to.

There was something wrong in the force, and Sheev Palpatine did not like it.

There was only one reasonable answer: someone was going to find out. Or already had. He just needed to find out who it was, and how to eliminate them.

Fortunately, he had a suspect. There was one Jedi who he’d found constantly dripping with contempt around him, who was just clever enough and just reckless enough to maybe figure something out. He was skilled, and smart, and could get information that hardly anyone else could.

Jedi Shadow Quinlan Vos.

And Sheev had a plan. He knew that despite his skills, Vos was not mentally stable. He had struggled with depression, feelings of self-hatred, and worthlessness since he was a padawan. This was his main weakness, and the one he would exploit.

It would be easy enough. Vos was very close with Sheev’s own Guard Commander, CC-1010. Fox, as he preferred. And of course, Sheev could control Fox.

Order number two, he thought, for this. Order Two: the clone will completely and wholeheartedly believe everything the Speaker tells him.

One of his favorites. Order one, controlling their body, was fun; but making them truly believe it… that was power.

Quinlan would find himself failing his current mission, Sheev could ensure that. He would come home dejected and looking for comfort in his friend Fox, but Fox would already have his orders.

It would be a suicide. There would be no way to track it back to him. Then he could be rid of the niggling feeling in the back of his head, whispering, you are in danger.

~*~

Fox knew Chancellor Palpatine was the Sith Lord.

He did not know what to do about it.

He wasn’t sure he had enough proof to make everyone believe him, and he didn’t know where to start, almost everyone loved the Chancellor. He knew the first person he wanted to talk to about it, but unfortunately, the Jedi Shadow was off-world on another minimal contact mission, and he had to wait until he returned. And avoid the Sith in the meantime.

Which was not to be, as he had just received a summons from Palpatine. Fox touched the detonator lying in his belt. This was his big backup plan: blow the Chancellor’s whole office up. He had bombs placed throughout the room, the best that the GAR had.

But he wanted to avoid that, as he didn’t want to kill the Chancellor’s guards. He had no idea who was in on the secret, and Fox did not want to kill innocents.

That was his backup plan. His first was to talk to Quinlan Vos, his close friend, longtime crush, and avid hunter of the Sith.

It would have to wait until after his talk with Palpatine though. If he survived.

Fox approached the chancellor’s door. “The Chancellor requested my presence,” he said to the guards. They stepped aside and let him in. Fox walked in with a steeling breath.

“Hello, Commander,” Palpatine said, turning around in his chair. His usual pleasant smile was plastered in place.

“Chancellor,” Fox said, saluting sharply. “Come, come I have information to share with you.”

Fox walked up to his desk and waited.

“Commander Fox, Order Two, if you would.” Fox didn’t know what that meant but he reminded himself again of the detonator in his pocket.

“Quinlan Vos is a traitor to the republic, and must be exterminated.” Fuck. There went his plans of telling Quin about the chancellor. That was bad.

The chancellor continued, “He has plans to betray the republic, the democracy, all that is important to the war effort. He is not your friend, he is a bad person and he deserves this. I need you to deal with him, and I need it to look like a suicide. I am aware of your friendship with him.” Fox nodded. This was no secret. “I am also aware of his shaky mental health. Successfully goad him into killing himself and the republic will be safe.”

This was… heartbreaking. Fox loved Quinlan! He was one of his best friends! He was always so good to his men, to him… He was so important to Fox. But if he was planning on betraying the republic… Fox couldn’t let him. But he also couldn’t live in a world where he had killed him.

“Anything for the republic,” he replied bleakly to the Chancellor.

“Excellent. He returns today, already weakened by a failed mission. I expect he will come to your office soon after, hoping to feel better. Of course, your presence will have the alternate effect.” Palpatine grinned widely. “Thank you for your compliance, Commander.”

“Of course, Chancellor. Good soldiers follow orders.”

“Dismissed.” Fox saluted a final time, turning and marching briskly out of the office. At least Palpatine hadn’t found out what he knew.

He headed back to his office. Now to wait for Quinlan.

~*~

Quinlan Vos was having a shit day.

His mission had gone downhill fast. He had barely escaped with his life after they found out he was a jedi—and how had they known? Very few people knew about him, he kept to himself on Coruscant for a reason. He tried not to make it obvious when he betrayed his criminal partners so there was less of a chance of his reputation spreading. He was always so careful.

And yet they had burst in while he was sleeping, yelling about jedi, and he had forced his way through them and ran off.

He hated this. He hated failing, if only he’d been more careful, more clever—He shook his head fervently, trying to shake off the thoughts. He grabbed the yoke of his ship to have something to do with his hands instead of scratching anxiously at his skin. The Jedi would not be happy.

He ignored the part of him that was eager to go home and see Fox. The mission had been a failure, HE was a failure, it was a wonder Fox deigned to talk to him, he only ever distracted him from his work, he was a burden—and he shook his head again, flipped on autopilot, and went to distract himself.

Maybe work himself into exhaustion with a punching bag. Maybe he should stop telling Fox not to do that, he was going to start sounding like a hypocrite.

He arrived at the Jedi temple not too long after, with freshly bleeding knuckles he wrapped up quickly. He had to debrief with the council, which was going to be a nightmare. The only good person there was Obi-Wan, and even he got fed up with Quinlan’s antics sometimes. He was too immature and reckless for the others. Master Yoda always expressed great patience, but he knew he let him down sometimes too.

He walked to the council room gathering up his usual bravado. Sometimes it felt like the only reason he was still alive. Talk about how amazing you are for long enough and maybe you’ll start to believe it.

He was holding out hope.

He flung the council chamber doors open and sauntered to the center of the circle. “Grandmaster Yoda. Masters,” he said, inclining his head at them. He winked at Obi-Wan, who rolled his eyes and smiled.

“Hello, Master Vos. Good to see you, it is,” Yoda spoke.

Quinlan flashed him a grin. “I’m sure.”

“To the point.” Master Windu’s face was as stern as ever. “Your mission was a failure.”

Quinlan blocked out his thoughts and replied, “Yep.”

“Any idea why?”

“They found out I was a jedi somehow. I couldn’t stick around long enough to figure it out. As you know, I hadn’t contacted you in a while, and I had not used the force during the mission. My lightsaber was well hidden and they didn’t have it nor knew where it was. They burst in on me while I was sleeping, luckily the force woke me early and I was able to fight my way out.”

“We’re disappointed in you, Quinlan. You’re usually so good at these.”

“Yes. I’m sorry.”

“If you have been neglectful and the criminal underground knows your face, you shall no longer be useful as a Shadow.”

“I am aware of this.” Vos accepted the criticism, folding it into his mind to deal with later. That compartment of his mind was getting pretty full.

“You will upload a full mission report, including any information you can contribute despite your failure, to the proper sector. Perhaps we can find a replacement they will not figure out as easily.”

“Yes, Master Windu.”

“Dismissed.”

Quinlan shot them a quick two-fingered salute and sauntered out of the chamber, ignoring the way his legs were shaking.

“Good to see you, it was, Master Vos,” Yoda called as he left. Quinlan wondered if Mace and Yoda knew about the good cop/bad cop routine they pulled.

Quinlan hated this. He used to love when he succeeded, but that was normal now. It brought him no pleasure, merely mild satisfaction. He did it more to avoid failure than for any joy it brought him. Anything to avoid their disappointed stares, their sharp words, this fucking feeling.

He needed to talk to someone. And his close friend and longtime crush, Commander Fox, was likely sitting in his office doing too much paperwork and not sleeping enough.

That was the good part of coming back to Coruscant. Fox’s gruff affection always cheered him up, the way Quinlan had to coax it out of him and always managed it, the way he showed he cared so wordlessly. Fox always made him feel better.

~*~

Fox wasn’t waiting long before the Jedi arrived, bearing his usual cheerful look. “Heyyy, Fox. Guess who’s back?” He walked in the door.

“You, presumably? Shame,” Fox responded dully. He’d taken off his helmet.

“Aw, don't be like that, Fox. You love me.” Quin—Vos draped himself across the chair Fox had bought for him months ago. Before he knew he was a traitor.

“I don’t.” Fox said, raising an eyebrow. “Who would?”

Vos had dropped his smile. “W-what?”

“Do I really have to go into further detail?” Fox rolled his eyes. “You’re immature, foolish, stupid, weak, and you only make my life harder.” Vos regarded him with a blank stare. “You failed the first command you were ever given. You got my brothers killed. You can’t do anything but fail, and hurt people. You’re a burden on everyone who cares about you. I can’t believe I wasted so much time on being your friend.” He spat the last word out like venom.

It hurt to say. But Vos wasn’t his friend. He was a bad person, and he deserved this.

Then Quinlan burst into laughter. “Wow! Thank you for your honesty! Damn, I always knew I was right.” He was grinning as his eyes filled with tears. “You’re right.”

“You’re a burden.”

“You’re right.”

“You’re worthless.”

“You’re right.”

“You shouldn’t even be here.”

Quinlan was openly crying as admitted to Fox, “You’re right.”

Fox would not be able to live with himself after this, he knew. But he had to do this. For the republic. The clones had been engineered to have very dry tear ducts, and he was grateful for it—it was hard to maintain this level of apathy.

“Thank you,” Quinlan offered to him. “For being honest.”

“You deserve to hear the truth,” Fox choked out.

Quinlan stood up and walked over to him. “Please—help me.” he said. “I know what to do. I know how to make things better. But I—” he broke off. “Just kill me,” he asked. “I—for everyone’s sake. Please?”

“Yes.” Fox was close to crying now, he didn’t know what he was doing, everything was a mess in his head—but there was the chancellor’s voice: he is not your friend. He is a bad person. He deserves this.

But he loved him.

Fox took Quinlan’s lightsaber off his belt and stared him in his eyes. He wrapped his arms around Quin, pulling him into a sweet kiss. He felt Quin melt into the kiss, wrap his arms around him as well and he smiled gently, felt Quin do the same, their hearts beating next to each other in sync—

And he activated the saber in Quin’s back, spearing them both through the heart.

~*~

Seeing Fox was not the relaxing, entertaining encounter it usually was.

He entered like usual, Fox complained about him like usual, and Quinlan laughed it off like usual.

But this time Fox didn’t roll his eyes and return to his paperwork. Instead, he said no one would ever love Quinlan because he was weak and stupid and worthless.

He never even wanted to be his friend, and he said that with such anger and disgust Quinlan burst into laughter. It was funny, because it was true. It was funny, because that was exactly what he had been thinking! His head wrapped Fox’s words around itself, confirming everything he’d ever thought.

He had never thought Fox would say that though.

But he trusted Fox, and his judgment. He also trusted Fox not to be this cruel unless he absolutely had to. Quinlan was worse than he thought.

Fox was right. Fox was right, and Quinlan told him that, again and again—and then Fox said it. “You shouldn’t even be here.”

Quinlan got the feeling he didn’t just mean Fox’s office. And he was still right. There was no point for him being here, even Fox thought so—He felt tears running down his cheeks as he choked out, “Thank you for being honest.”

Fox’s face was impassive. “You deserve to hear the truth.” Quinlan couldn’t tell him he meant it in a good or bad way.

He got out of his chair--the chair Fox had gotten for him--and walked over to him.

“Please help me,” he begged. “I know what to do, to make things better, but I--” he broke off, cleared his throat, and tried again. “Just-- just kill me,” he said faintly. “For everyone’s sake. Please.” He shouldn’t be dumping that on Fox, he knew, but he couldn’t do anything else, he could barely think.

“Yes,” Fox granted, and stood up to meet him. He looked at least a little sad now, that unemotional expression morphing into something slightly different, and Quinlan couldn’t tell if that was good or bad.

Fox drew him close, pulling them together. It was what Quinlan had always wanted, and would never truly get.

Fox kissed him then, to Quinlan’s surprise, but he fell into it anyway--he was about to die, might as well, and then his psychometry activated.

He saw Fox in the Chancellor’s office, heard Palpatine instruct him that Quinlan was a traitor, and could sense Fox’s immediate obedience as unnatural. This wasn’t Fox’s fault, it wasn’t really him saying these things--Fox held cold metal to Quinlan’s back, and he knew it was his lightsaber.

“I see him, it’s okay, Fox--” Quinlan was cut off by a burning feeling in his chest and he crumpled to the ground, arms still around Fox. “I love you,” he said, with what little strength he had left.

And as the darkness invaded, he heard Fox’s response: “I love you too.”

~*~

Fox heard Quinlan blurt out, “I see him, It’s okay,” as they fell to the ground entangled in one another.

He felt a final moment of clarity, realizing all that had happened, and with a final act of strength, reached into his belt.

“I love you,” Quin breathed out, barely a whisper next to him.

Fox felt himself crying for the first time as he pulled out the detonator. “I love you too,” he murmured, and pressed it.

~*~

All the Jedi were very surprised when they felt a large and immediate shift in the force that day. Even more when they were informed that the Chancellor’s office had been blown up, and he along with it.

An investigation showed GAR bombs as the source, and when Commander Fox of the Coruscant guard was found with his thumb over a detonator, it wasn’t hard to figure out the culprit.

As to why he was lying dead next to the Jedi everyone had observed he was so close with, no one knew-- but the fact of the matter was, the Chancellor had been the Sith, and Fox had been the one to kill him. And he and Quinlan were dead, a lightsaber through the heart, likely the lightsaber that lay some inches from Fox’s hand not holding the detonator.

No, they didn’t know exactly what happened. But the easiest thing, the best thing, to assume was that they were the noble heroes of the republic. The war inched on anyway, but the Republic prevailed in the end, under Chancellor Bail Organa, who immediately gave up his emergency powers after the war. The chips were discovered and the Jedi survived.

It was a happy ending.

BONUS ENDING:

Fox had to avoid the Sith until Quinlan returned.

He considered this for a moment, considered waiting, then pushed the button and threw the detonator out the window. Not worth the risk. The war ended and Fox and Quinlan lived happily ever after in love and their first kiss was a triumphant culmination of all their emotions about the war ending and not them crying and dying. The End :)

#wrote this in one day be proud of me #vox #quinlan vos #commander fox #foxquin #foxquinweek2023 #tw suicide #tw death #tw major character death #tw depression #tw suicidal thoughts #tw mental health #this is a fucked up fic #it's ok tho i didn't cry at all

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