Chapter Text
Fox woke slowly, every inch of his body throbbing in pain.
At first, he wasn’t even sure which way was up. It felt like the world was lazily spinning around him, blurring his surroundings into a mess of lights and sounds. He tried to make sense of it, but the pounding in his head wouldn’t let him, seeming to want him to succumb to sleep again.
Regardless of what his body was telling him, the small piece of Fox’s brain that was still operational didn’t want to sleep. He didn’t know why, but there was something that was pulling him towards the light – keeping him from straying off into the noise.
He tried to crack his eyes open, but immediately squeezed them shut. The lights wherever he was were so bright that he couldn’t even think about opening his eyes right now. Well, it looked like he would just have to focus on sounds. He cleared his mind, and let his brain wander off to the faint chatter that surrounded him; beeping, voices whispering, wheels rolling over hard tile. Something about that combination struck him as odd. Where was this?
He made another attempt to open his eyes, hissing in aggravation as the blue-white, fluorescent light assaulted him once again. This time, though, he was able to keep them open for a split second. The glimpse that he caught of a dingy, plastered ceiling let him on to what he should have known all along; he was in the medbay. A place that was far more familiar to him than he (or the medics) would have liked.
What did he do to get here this time? He almost felt as if he didn’t want to remember. The days and hours leading up to his untimely hospital stay were a blur of yelling and blaster fire, and he was almost certain that both of those things had been directed at him.
Eyes open (hopefully for good this time) he did his best to scan over the room, at least as much as his incredibly sore neck would allow. He saw all of the usual medbay equipment and items, with one notable exception; Quinlan was by the side of the bed, slumped over asleep in a folding chair that was obviously not native to the medbay. Despite his current state, Fox felt a smile spread across his face at that. Try as he might, he just couldn’t seem to shake that Jedi. Even when he was knocked unconscious in the medbay, there Quinlan was, waiting for him to wake up just so he could keep poking at Fox just to make him bite.
Quinlan had called Fox “prickly” when they first met. Honestly, Fox had agreed with him. But somehow, somewhere along the way he had softened up enough to where he didn’t quite mind if he got poked at once in a while. His stubborn pride be damned; it sure was nice to be fawned over, sometimes.
He dragged his tired eyes over the Jedi’s sleeping form. Quinlan must have been dead tired to fall asleep at his side like that. Either that, or Fox had been out for a lot longer than he thought. His virtual lack of any relevant memories seemed to support that idea. No matter the reason, Fox felt that Quinlan had slept long enough. Fox was the one that was injured, after all.
He reached out his arm as far as he could towards the side of the bed, and rapped his fingernails against the metal railing that surrounded the thin mattress. Quinlan sniffed and shrugged his shoulders abruptly, as if startled. His head, which had been balancing delicately on one of his hands, fell forward towards his lap, before jerking back up. Quinlan took a quick, albeit bleary eyed, look around the room, before landing on Fox.
The moment he saw Fox’s eyes on his, he leaned towards him, taking Fox’s hand between his warm, calloused ones. His brows were furrowed, as if days of worrying were permanently etched into them.
“How are you feeling?” he asked. His voice had an urgency to it that was most uncharacteristic for the usually carefree Jedi.
“…Like I got run over by a karking star destroyer,” Fox croaked out. The use of his voice for the first time in force-knows-how-long made him choke, sending him into a wheezing, painful coughing fit. Quinlan lunged over to a side table, and retrieved a bottle of water, bringing it over to let Fox take a drink. The water was refreshingly cool, soothing his parched throat and helping his lungs to relax, at least for now. Satiated, Fox melted back into the mattress, letting his eyes rest for just a second.
“Do you remember what happened?” Quinlan’s voice recaptured his attention from where it was threatening to drift away.
“No,” Fox grumbled, truthfully. Kriff, he could barely remember how to speak right now. Was he on pain meds, or something?
“What’s the last thing you remember?”
Fox had to think about that for a moment. He focused on the impressions that were etched into his mind: shouting, flashing lights, Quinlan looking back at him - worry in his eyes.
“I remember…” he said, trying to follow whatever thread of memories he could latch on to, “I remember that there was a bill for the clones, and that we were going to present it. I remember that I got serious dirt on the Chancellor, and that we talked about it with the council. I remember that me and Chuchi were talking in her pod. I was nervous,” he trailed off, eyebrows furrowed.
“There was a lot of blaster fire, and people yelling. I think I was in the Senate Chamber. Were you there?”
“Yes, I was,” Quinlan confirmed. His voice was strong, but still had an air of calm patience to it. Fox had a feeling that he was skating around something. What is was, however, he didn’t know.
He continued on, “We were in the Senate to propose the bill, or that was the official story at least. What we were actually doing was accusing the Chancellor, who is also a Sith Lord, of treason, and then arresting him. That would be all of the fighting that you remember,” he finished, eyes still trained on Fox.
Fox’s heart spiked with a rush of anxiety.
“The Chancellor… did we arrest him? Is he-?”
“He’s dead, Fox. Don’t worry,” Quinlan reached out to give his arm a reassuring squeeze, “The plan didn’t exactly go off quite as we thought, but we pulled it together in the end.”
Fox let out a sigh of relief, letting his head roll off to the side. He closed his eyes, and reveled in content for a moment. He so rarely got moments like these - moments where he could sit, relax, and enjoy the fruits of a job well-done. It wouldn’t do for him to just shove past this. No, he would stay right here, right now, and bask in the glory of Sith-free society, thanks to him.
However, he was somewhat curious what has actually happened, given that he was knocked unconscious and all.
“How the kark did you pull that off?”
“Well, it definitely wasn’t easy,” Quinlan said in a hushed voice. A shadow passed over his face.
“Not everyone made it out,” he looked down to the floor, “Master Mundi and Master Rancisis were killed in the fight, as well as several others that got trapped outside of the doors when Palpatine’s order went down. Master Ti and Master Koon were in critical condition for a couple of days after, too. They’ve both pulled through since, and they’re both expected to recover as much as possible, but still…” he trailed off, “It was scary to watch.”
His eyes drifted off to the wall across from him.
“You know who it was? Who finally did it?” Quinlan said, a note of humor in his voice despite the somber conversation, “It was Skywalker. Captain Rex was mind-controlled by the order Palpatine gave just like you were, and he attacked the General while they were in Senator Amidala’s pod. Skywalker was able to subdue him without hurting him, thankfully, and he used Rex’s blaster to shoot the Chancellor in the back. Exactly what he deserves, if you ask me,” Quinlan finished with a shake of his head.
Fox took a moment to digest that.
Suddenly, he was remembering flashes of memories from the Senate Dome; he could observe them, almost as if he was standing behind himself watching, but he couldn’t feel himself in the actions that he saw.
“What happened?” He asked Quinlan, not sure if he really wanted to know, “When Palpatine gave that order… I wasn’t myself. It was like I was just watching someone else pilot my body. I couldn’t control what I was doing.”
“Ahh… so, about that…” Quinlan’s hand wrung in his lap, “From what we’ve been able to find out so far, it looks like there’s some type of organic microchip that’s imbedded in the brain of every clone. We’re trying to figure out how that happened right now. Yours and Rex’s were removed after the fact, and the GAR medics are working overtime right now to make sure every troop gets theirs out. It won’t be a quick task, but we’ll all be able to breathe easier once it’s done.”
Fox felt him steal a covert glance at his direction, presumably to gauge his reaction. Completely truthfully, Fox wasn’t sure how to feel about that information. His faith in the Kaminoans had never been very strong to begin with, but he hadn’t quite expected that they would go as far as to implant slave chips in the heads of all the clones. What was the point of all that obedience training if they were just going to install an off-button anyway? It didn’t make any sense. Not that anything about the last month of his life had made any kriffing sense, though.
He didn’t want to understand, but in a sort-of messed-up way, he did; The Longnecks had done everything in their power to ensure that the clones would follow orders. The fact that they would become mindless drones as a result was just something that would have to be sacrificed in the name of Kaminoan product standards. Really, it wasn’t surprising at all. Clones would never be human to their makers, and Fox figured that Tatooine would probably freeze over before they unearthed all of the shady, unethical shit that had been done to them before they were even tubies.
Thankfully, it didn’t seem that Quinlan was too off put about his lengthy silence. He continued in a soft voice, while stroking his thumb in circles around the upturned palm of Fox’s hand.
“Palpatine gave a specific order that activated instructions to kill the Jedi. Thankfully, you, Rex, and Thire were the only clones in the room at the time. There were some guardsmen that heard the order from out in the hallway, but we were able to seal off the Senate doors so they couldn’t get in. The Jedi that were out there with them didn’t fare so well,” he said, something tightening in his voice, “but it allowed those of us inside the chamber to survive.”
He paused, and a humorless smile spread across his face, “You know, It would have been much harder to deal with if all of the “clones” in the room at the time were all really clones. Small mercies, I guess. Oh…” he perked up, as if a sudden thought had just occurred, “Rex is fine, by the way,” he assured Fox, as if reading his mind. “He’s been recovering from surgery for a few days now, and has been out and about quite a bit. You were the one we were worried about, with as injured as you were. Rex has been anxious waiting for you to wake up. Thire and Riyo, too.”
Lovely, he hadn’t been forgotten about during his brief stint in a Sith-lord-induced coma.
“So… how long was I out then?”
“Just over two weeks,” Quinlan replied, raising a hand to placate Fox’s indignant stutter that followed. “I know, I know… your workload. Thorn and I have been staying on top of your flimsiwork for you. Anyway, as I was saying…”
He gave a somewhat sarcastic tilt to his head.
“…A lot has happened in that time. The War ending, new chancellor, de-chipping the army. You could say it’s been a very busy and stressful two weeks. It looks like we’re on the other side of it now, though,” he smiled at Fox. Suddenly, Fox could see how tired he really was, the weight of exhaustion wearing dark circles under his eyes.
Fox noticed that Quinlan hadn’t let go of his hand yet. He also realized that maybe, just maybe, he didn’t particularly mind.
“Yeah, you’re right,” Fox grumbled back, “That is a lot to take in. Kark…” he let his head fall backwards to stare at the ceiling, “I’m going to be spending a while in here, aren’t I?”
“The upside is you’ll have plenty of time to catch up on things while you’re healing,” Quinlan gave him a smile that spoke more of mischief than compassion, “I bet one of the medics could get you some holo-journals to read if you asked super politely?”
“I’ll pass,” Fox shook his head dismissively.
“I can bring up your diary?”
“It’s not a diary,” Fox fought back a blush at the reminder of the little journal that had got them into this mess, “Besides, I don’t really feel like writing right now.”
Quinlan scoffed indignantly.
“What? You’re just going to sit here and stare at the ceiling, zoning out for another two weeks or so? You’re going to go insane with boredom, Fox.”
“What, you have something else for me to do?”
Quinlan shrugged noncommittally.
“We could try and go for a walk, if you’re feeling up to it? Well, not like, really walking,” Quinlan quickly clarified at Fox’s raised eyebrow, “I brought in a wheelchair for you to use if you wanted to get a change of scenery. We don’t have to, but I think it might do you good. And also, it might be the last chance you have for a while to avoid Sharps for a couple hours.”
Fox turned that over in his head for a couple of moments. Well, he may want to get a little vacation in. He may not have the chance after the medics sink their claws into him and shoot him up with enough bacta to make him cross-eyed.
“Alright.”
He nodded to Quinlan, who stood up and began to unpack the wheelchair that had been tucked into the corner of the room. After it was constructed, and Quinlan had satisfied himself that it was not going to collapse the minute a still-very-tender Fox sat on it, he helped Fox sit up on the bed, and supported his weight as he shimmied off of the bed and into the chair.
When Fox had righted himself in the chair, Quinlan unlocked the brake, and ushered Fox out of the room. As they went down the hallway, Fox stole glances into each of the rooms that they passed, catching glimpses of different men, both in the Guard and not, buzzing in and out.
Just a few doors down from him, he spotted Rex, who was fast asleep in his bunk, covered from the shoulders down in piles of the medbay’s scratchy, white blankets. He had a small patch of his blond hair shaved from his head, covered with a white bandage. Fox figured that he probably had a scar not unsimilar to that. Regardless, with everything going on, it was comforting to know that his vod’ika had made it out alright.
A few more rooms down, he peeked through the door to see Thire sitting on his bunk, with Riyo in the guest chair. Neither of them took any notice of him. They were both smiling brightly, deeply engrossed in whatever conversation they were having. Fox smiled too.
It seemed like there were still some things to be happy about.
They continued on down the hallway until they arrived at the elevator. The doors opened, and Quinlan punched in a few numbers to the panel on the wall. The elevator jolted into motion, beginning to play a quiet but jaunty tune over the speakers. As they arrived at their destination, the doors slid open, and Quinlan pushed Fox forward into a rush of bright gold sunlight.
Fox thought that he knew every place in the entire senate building, and for good reason. His work had taken him everywhere from the basement kitchen quarters to the most luxurious senators offices. There wasn’t anywhere, he thought, that hadn’t been thoroughly burned into his memory from the hours upon hours of walking patrols. However, the view that greeted him now was something that was not familiar to him.
Quinlan had taken them to the very roof of the senate dome, a utilitarian but spacious deck, where a thin railing separated the platform they stood on from the sprawling expanse of the city below. Fox didn’t even know that this place was accessible by the main elevator shaft, something that he noted he should review at the next Commanders’ security briefing. This area was fairly remote, and Fox honestly wasn’t sure if this platform was even on the building maps. They must be at one of the highest points on Coruscant here. Only the very highest skyscrapers on the planet rose above them, poking through the beginning of the clouds.
The sun was just beginning to set now, bathing the city below them in a wash of golden light, glittering off the windows of the speeders that crawled by in the distance. From here, they looked almost comically small; like little black bugs flying in perfect little lines. They finally arrived at the railing, and Fox peered over the edge to look down onto the city below.
The two of them stayed in silence for a few moments, listening to the breeze skate past them. It was peaceful up here. The hustle and bustle of the city below was just a whisper, and Fox took in the rare opportunity to soak in the peace and quiet.
But then again, he was with Quinlan. He should’ve known the silence wouldn’t last for long.
Quinlan was quiet for a moment, at least. However, it seemed that he hadn’t yet hit his daily “pestering Fox” quota. After a few seconds, he perked up a bit, a quirk in his eyebrow as he grinned back at Fox.
“…You wanna play Two Truths and a Lie?”
Fox let out a hushed laugh at that, despite the pain radiating from his ribs.
He lolled his head over to look at the Jedi, squinting his eyes to see through the sunshine. He found the Jedi was looking down at him already, a fond smile tugging at the corners of his lips. They locked eyes, and… Fox forgot what he was thinking about before. His mind went blank, and any thought he had of snapping back at Quinlan was washed away in a flash of glowing light reflecting off the Jedi’s amber eyes.
Oh, kriff. He had been asked a question.
“…You go first,” he stuttered out, hoping that he hadn’t made too much of a fool of himself.
“All right,” Quinlan said, scooting his chair towards the bed to hold Fox’s hand more comfortably, “My name is Quinlan, my saber is green, my favorite color is pink.”
“That one’s too easy,” Fox scoffed.
“Which one is it, then?”
“The pink one.”
The Jedi gave his hand a squeeze, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“Right as always, Foxxy. Your turn.”
“Okay…” Fox pondered for a moment, “My name is Fox, my favorite color is red, my favorite drink is Corrie moonshine.”
“Fox…” Quinlan clicked his teeth disapprovingly, “You have to give me a challenge at least. Moonshine. No one can genuinely enjoy that osik. It’s half-made of battery acid.”
“Wrong,” Fox shot back, placing a definite emphasis on the word, “It’s the favorite color. And don’t disrespect our moonshine like that ever again.”
Quinlan huffed in disbelief.
“What- you’re telling me that your favorite color isn’t the color that you and all your men have painted all of your armor with?”
“That’s exactly what I’m telling you,” Fox nodded, a faint smile on his cheeks as he gazed back at the Kiffar’s tattoos bridging his nose, “It’s yellow.”
“Yellow,” Quinlan laughed, “Sure. Anyway, let’s see, what do I have… Oh, I’ve got something: I’ve never been to Naboo, I’ve killed every houseplant I’ve ever owned, and…” he trailed off, something glinting in his eyes, “there’s a Commander in the Guard, a really special one, that I just can’t seem to get out of my head.”
Fox grunted in response.
“Hmm…” he made a show of considering his options, “Is it the houseplant one? You’re a Jedi. Aren’t Jedi supposed to be knowledgeable about all living things?”
“Not those living things, apparently,” Quinlan shrugged, “I can’t seem to keep them alive. I have, however, visited with Senator Amidala on Naboo. Beautiful place. We should go see it some time.”
Fox nodded, pretending that his stomach didn’t tie itself into knots at the word “we”.
The Jedi prodded gently at his side.
“Come on, you go now.”
“Well…” Fox took a deep breath, forcing his heart to stop fluttering, “My favorite weapon is the DC-17, I’ve been to two planets in my lifetime, and…” he tried to soothe the tremble out of his voice, “…There’s this Jedi that keeps following me around that I’m starting to like.”
“Oh, that one’s difficult, that is,” Quinlan mused, “Is it the DC-17?”
“Nope.”
“The planets?”
Fox swallowed.
“No, not that one either.”
“Well,” Quinlan gave him a warm smile, “That leaves just one, then, doesn’t it?”
“It does,” Fox nodded, heart in his throat.
Quinlan cocked his head.
“Now, how could that be a lie?”
“Well…” Fox swallowed his nerves, and looked up to the Jedi, “Maybe none of them were lies?”
“I sure hope not,” Quinlan half whispered to him, “I was getting so tired of having to act like the Commander wasn’t just the prettiest thing I’d ever seen in the galaxy.”
He scooted to the edge of his chair, leaning over into Fox’s space. With anyone else, Fox would feel restricted, but with Quinlan, it just felt… natural. Like a deep breath out after a storm. Like coming home after a long day.
Fox smiled.
“The Jedi’s not too bad, either.”
Quinlan laughed, and closed the space between them.