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Fox startles awake from the nap he was having on his desk, his cheek aching from resting his head on the datapads. He blinks, reaching a hand up to rub the sleepiness away from his eye before pausing. Furrowing his eyebrows, he looks around the office.
The room looks the same as the day before, if a little less messy. Datapads strewn across the desk, flimsi piling up in the small trashcan, a pair of Thorn’s blacks thrown over the side of the couch that has been there for months. Nothing was out of place.
Except that it was.
Fox didn’t remember a lot of things due to his health decreasing every day and the black outs, but he vividly remembers absolutely destroying his office in the wake of Thorn’s death.
Every datapad was hurled against a wall, scuffing the wallpaper that right now is only fraying at the edges. The window that showcases the traffic of Coruscant was broken and destroyed after Fox continuously hit the office chair against it, eventually tossing it out the window once the glass broke.
His desk should be bare after he wiped everything off of it, overturned when that wasn’t enough to ease his pain. The pair of blacks lain over the couch should be ripped, torn into pieces because he couldn’t stand the sight of them. The white bowl he now cradles in his hands, still barely filled with seeds from a planet Thorn came back from after a mission, was shattered after his grief had caused him to throw it against the ground amidst the mess of his office, the last thing to be broken before he ditched the room.
More so, he was never supposed to wake up, much less in his office.
Fox barely remembers much of his days, time passing by in such a way that he can barely keep track of the date itself but he does remember this. Could never forget it if he tried.
He remembers leaving his office, the door left open in his haste to get away. He remembered the looks thrown his way as he rushes down the hall, barely just a jog and far from the calm pace he always sets. He remembers pulling off his armor, discarding it on the floor where Senators and vod alike can see, tearing off the link to what stands him out as a vod, as a Commander.
He remembers unclipping the pauldrons and the kama and even his shoes. He remembers the last piece of armor that he kept a hold of was his helmet and when he went down to where the other Commanders were, where the other Commanders stood to give their condolences to Stone and Thire about Thorn (but not him. Or no never him. He’s a dar’vod. He doesn’t deserve it. If anything, he deserves this grief. This pain. After what he did to Fives, it’s the least he deserves. In fact, maybe it should have been him on that mission instead of Thorn. It should have been him who had died. Why did Thorn take his punishment away from him?), he flung the bucket to Cody.
Cody who stared at him in such surprise at this action, at his bare body devoid of armor, with only a pair of dirty blacks on to cover him from indecency. He remembers Cody looking down at his helmet and then back up to him, his expression hardening from the shock as he asked, “What’s this for?”
Fox can remember the amusement and the hurt mingled together that rose in his chest at the look and the words he spoke to Cody, to his batchmates, to all the Commanders that stood there.
“I’m renouncing myself from the Vod’e.”
Gaps and murmurs were heard in the group and Rex, who is not even a Commander but somehow in the group as Fox just noticed, looks shocked at the announcement. Ponds shakes his head, confused and Gree turns to Bly, who has no answers. Wolffe growls and goes to step forward but is stopped by an arm in front of him.
It was Cody.
Cody who still wears the hard expression, no emotions leaving his body and taking charge as his vod’ika always does.
“Is this what you really want?”
No, Fox thinks but he remembers the word Cody had called him the night before. He remembers the resentment and disgust his brother had wrapped the word in and how for all intents and purposes, this is not what Fox wants but is surely what Cody has implied for him to do.
Dar’vod, Cody had said at the end of their fight. Fox couldn’t breathe after the word was spoken, breath taken away and Cody’s anger shown, anger and pain wrapped together it was hard to see where one ended and the other began. You’re a dar’vod.
Cody, Fox had tried to argue but Cody shook his head. Tears were shining in Cody’s eyes as he stared at the traitor in front of him, who wouldn’t even explain why he had to kill Fives beyond following orders. Fox could understand his pain; after all, vod were more important than orders.
Were supposed to be.
But Cody won’t listen to him. Cody please, he tried to plead. You don’t know what you’re saying.
Why did you kill Fives?!
Cody!
WHY!
BECAUSE I WAS ORDERED TO!
Cody took a step back and Fox knew he shouldn’t have said that. He knew but his words were limited to just the surface. There was no way to tell the truth of what even he didn’t know, not that that was acceptable to Cody.
Cody is the most loyal vod of them all, especially to the brotherhood of the Vod’e. He tried to keep the peace between the GAR and the Guard and tried to encourage intermingling between them even when he barely saw his own batchmate. He loved each and every vod even if he didn’t know them personally and did his best as Marshall Commander, like Fox himself, to ensure shinies had it somewhat easy through battalions and Commanders and Fox understands Cody’s reasoning.
Fox had killed a vod.
There was no reason to do so, in Cody’s mind, and Fox wouldn’t give him an answer past orders were given. It was not a good look.
You’re not my brother, Cody whispered, and Fox wanted to rage at him. How dare he say that?! How could he say that? After everything they did to ensure vod escape decommissioning and reconditioning, the number of times they did transfers and switches and played the system, how could Cody not trust him? However, rage wasn’t what choked him on his words. It was sadness, tearing at his heart, wrapping around it and squeezing till he was left breathless. How far have they drifted to where Cody couldn’t trust him anymore?
Cody, Fox had said but Cody interrupted.
My ori’vod would never do that.
Fox swallowed. But he did. He pulled the trigger.
“Yes.”
Cody stared at him as denials were made and yells were heard. Was the only one to see his nod before he turned away and walked towards the morgue.
Fox remembered feeling Cody’s eyes still on him until he passed a corner, forcing the staring to stop but he knows Cody more than likely stayed watching that corner.
The morning after that night only brought worse news.
The death of Thorn.
Fox thinks maybe it was the universe conspiring against him, making him more alone than ever before it rips him apart. It already took his mind from the constant stress and blackouts; it just needed his body and from the lack of sleep, lack of healing after getting wounded and constant pushing past his limits, it was only time before it got everything Fox could give.
It took its will after the fight with Cody and his support after Thorn’s death and his renouncement. There wasn’t much for Fox to do left.
He remembered walking in the halls, past Senators who gasped at his indecency or took holopics of him. He remembered Bail reaching out, only for Fox to nimbly escape his hand from ever touching his arm, Padme and Riyo who both called out his name and whom the latter tried to run after him. He quickly sped through the halls and hiding in a crevice, losing her quickly before setting back on his path.
He remembered the whispers vod shared at the sight of him but never any questions. Of course, that was a perk to being the Marshall Commander of the Coruscant Guard. No vod openly questioned the decisions he made nor did they ever stop to ask where he was going, what he was doing.
With Thorn, it was a little less lonely to always be in charge and he wonders how Cody would handle this pressure when he realizes, Cody has a Jedi.
Fox only had Thorn.
Had.
Not anymore.
Never again.
Fox doesn’t know when he reached the morgue or how he found Thorn. Time slipped past him as it always does, leaving him grasping to catch the pieces and understand the story.
He stands over Thorn, whose body was mercifully brought back to the Guard. It was rare for vod to be brought back off of a battle, especially if they are a part of the Guard but someone did.
Someone brought Thorn back and it’s with this small act of kindness that Fox lets go of the hold he had on his emotions.
Tears dripped down his face, nose runny as snot makes its way out. His hands press down against the table to hold his weight, palms aching at the position. He sobs as silently as he can, not wanting anyone to come in and see him at his lowest. He can’t show them this weakness, this vulnerability that could only ever be used to attack him.
He is the Marshall Commander of the Coruscant Guard.
He shouldn’t be affected by this.
But this is his ori’vod, who treated him like a vod’ika despite Fox being the oldest out of all the Command batch. Thorn was to him as an ori’vod should be, taking care of him and reminding him of life outside work, despite being the youngest in his own batch and Fox couldn’t even keep him alive, at least until the end of the war.
Through blurry eyes, Fox can see a blaster still attached to Thorn’s armor and with shaking hands, he grabs at it.
He stumbles to the ground, next to the table. His back presses uncomfortably against the drawers behind him that no doubt held more dead bodies. He wonders briefly if Fives’ body is still in here or if it has been cremated already like all dead bodies are on Coruscant, no place left to bury them.
He remembered vividly him breathing through a series of exercises before aiming the blaster under his chin, closing his eyes and slowly counting down. He remembered wishing as he counted that one vod would burst in and see him but at the same time, the thought of someone walking in to what he planned to do mortified him beyond belief.
Don’t see him at his lowest but please, come save him.
He remembers opening his eyes, staring straight ahead as he takes his final breath.
He shouldn’t be in his office. This isn't right.
He stands from the chair that is still in his office and not down in the streets of Coruscant, pushing away the datapads that lie innocently on the desk and not the floor like they should be. He grabs his comm which has been blinking for the past four minutes and answers.
A tinny voice speaks, and Fox has to stop himself from falling to the ground.
“Fox, we got a situation. A vod just attacked the Chancellor and is on the run.”
Thorn has never sounded more alive and Fox wonders what kind of sick joke is this. Is this what marching on feels like? Is he brought to relive his worst day, or rather the start of the worse end of his life?
His heart contracts and pulls, air harder to pull into his lungs and breathe.
“Fox?”
He needs a plan. He needs to get Thorn away. He needs to save Fives. He needs to talk to Cody. He needs…He needs…
“Fox?”
“Don’t go after him.”
He needs to get out of the path for a potential black out.
“Fox?”
“He’s innocent.” A lie, burning his tongue but Fox doesn’t know what else to say. He needs to deflect.
“Okay?”
“Get in contact with Cody. Set up a parameter around Block 476.”
He needs to make things right. He has nothing left to offer for the Vod’e. He can do this.
“Fox, what’s wrong?”
“Don’t engage.” A beat. “Please. For your safety, stay away.” He needs a plan. How does he take him down when he can’t be sure not to use stun? What if he loses control or forgets or…or…
“I thought you said he was innocent.”
It’s not him I’m trying to keep you away from, Fox thinks. “He is, but we can never be too cautious.”
He doesn’t have a plan, but he has a reason. He won’t let the events from his past future come to pass as it did before.
Maybe this is his hell and he’ll fail but he can’t won’t risk it.
He has too much to lose.
“I’m on my way.” He ends the call, reaching to grab his blaster before he stops. Hesitating for just a second, he pulls his hand away and turns, running out the door and leaving it behind.
His comm blinks again and he knows, just like last time, that the call is from the Chancellor.
He should answer it. The Chancellor is his boss.
He needs to follow orders.
Fox stops in his run and hesitates again for a second time.
He should answer it.
He drops the comm on the floor and as he goes back to his running pace, his foot slams on top of it, crushing it beyond repair.
He won’t make the same mistake twice.