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#commanderfoxweek2021
amikoroyaiart · 3 years
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Commander Fox Week - Day 7: Brothers | Hug
group pic with Croissant bois <3 
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flybynite19 · 3 years
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Loyalty
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mandoposting · 3 years
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“Come on, Sheev, get 'em!”
A quick thing for Day 4 of Commander Fox Week 2021 - Laughter. Inspired by the rewrite of Bezos I that @parkotedarasuum and I’s rotted brains came up with, which you can read under the cut :)
Nabooian senator
Born in BBY 84
Sheev
Sheev Palpatine
Nabooian senator
Born in BBY 84
Sheev
Sheev Palpatine
Come on, Sheevy, you can do it
Pave the way, put your back into it
Tell us why
Show us how
Look at where you came from
Look at you now
Or-gana and Mas and Padme
Amateurs can fucking suck it
Fuck their wives, drink their blood
Come on, Sheev, get 'em!
[*Sick synth solo*]
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Reference:
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Taglist: @ct-9904, @xviii-themoon, @twisted-falcon, @findhimfives, @the-dreamy-space, @fake-fullbuster, @parkotedarasuum, @beckettsmeckett, @icanbringyouincold, @limeyartspinningtales, @persaloodles, @puirell, @dagobahbound, @a-disaster-named-milo, @ahsoka1, @1-or-a-0 dm/send me an ask if you'd like to be added/removed (again im not sure who wants to be tagged in just oc stuff or other art so... lmk)
@loving-fox-hours
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Day 1 of Commander Fox Week 2021 - Exhaustion
@loving-fox-hours
Better late than never, right? Anyway, this is the first digital art I've done, also the first clone actually wearing armour, so I hope you guys like it <3
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poisonedyouth · 3 years
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Commander Fox Week 2021, Day 1 - Exhaustion
@loving-fox-hours
He's just so fed up with snobby senators, and in desperate need of some caf
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shadowmaat · 3 years
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Cmdr. Fox Week Day 6: Caring
Look, Fox deserves all the fluff and I am here to provide it. @loving-fox-hours
The Care and Feeding of Commander Fox
Fox was on a routine and thankfully uneventful patrol of the halls of the Senate when he noticed someone coming towards him. They were short, bipedal, covered in marbled grey fur, and had six arms, two sets of which were currently crossed over their chest. They were also wearing a purple tooka romper, so he hazarded a guess that they were a juvenile.
He stopped as the presumed juvenile stomped up to him, thrust all six arms in the air, and made a buzzing clicky sound. Fox didn't need a translator to figure out that command.
"Are you lost?" He bent to pick up the young harch- for that's what they had to be, especially with the six red eyes- and settled them against his hip.
A derisive clicking and a firm shake of the head. So either they weren't lost or refused to admit it. He sent a message off to Sergeant Rattle, letting her know what he'd found. If a frantic parent or guardian called in looking for a missing youngling, Rattle could reassure them and let him know where to go.
"I'm Commander Fox," he said, in case the armor wasn't enough indication he was a Safe Grownup. "Do you want me to take you back to your guardian?" he asked, checking the hallway just in case this turned out to be a short exercise.
Another headshake and the harch mashed their face against his chestplate, making a keening sound that made his teeth hurt.
"Right, no guardian, then," he said. What the frip was a harchling doing running around the Senate, anyway? Last he'd heard Secundus Ando was still firmly Separatist, so they wouldn't have a senator here.
"How about something to eat?"
This, at least, got a pleased warble, although they kept their face pressed into his chest. The upper set of arms hooked around his neck, the middle set had tiny claws hooked around the edge of his armor plate, and the last set clung to the arm that was holding them.
"I'm afraid the Guard mess isn't very exciting," he said as he made a turn to head in that direction. "Our rations are geared for humans, but they should be safe for you as well."
He was pulling up everything he could about harch dietary habits, which seemed to go heavy on liquid proteins and meat rather than live bugs as he'd been half afraid would be the case.
A bubbling hiss as the harch shook their head and pointed one three-fingered hand in the other direction. Towards the visitors cafe. Fox snorted.
"Sorry, kid, but if you're with me, it's the Guard mess or nothing. We aren't allowed in the places real people go. Might offend them with our stench."
He said it like a joke, but it was true enough. Rich folk like the Senators and their guests hated being confronted by commoners, and by their reckoning clones were a step down from that. Or several.
The harchling made a show of sniffing him, still pointing the way to the cafe. When it was clear Fox wasn't going to obey their simple instruction, they started to wriggle.
Fox had done his share of creche-work back on Kamino and had even volunteered a time or two at the Jedi Temple, but none of it compared struggling with an eight-limbed mini-tyrant intent on getting what they wanted. They started an oscillating whine and were starting to draw unwanted attention.
He flipped on his internal comm. "Rattle, what in the Storms-cursed hells is taking so long?"
"Oh! Commander!" Rattle sounded surprised. "Uh, is everything alright? I mean, no one's reported any missing children yet, but you'll be the first to know, sir!"
Fox grunted as he took a well-placed foot, or possibly fist, to the stomach.
"But there is, uh, news!"
Rattle sounded odd, but Fox was too busy struggling to hold on to figure it out. He'd stopped walking and was seriously debating how much trouble he'd be in if he just dropped the kid.
"Turns out there's a celebrity visiting today! You know Bivi? Silken queen of the pop charts? She's here to be thanked for-"
"Why the frip weren't we told?" Fox snarled. He turned and started heading in the direction the harchling demanded. Hells, for all he knew, they were saying that's where their caretaker was.
"Funny thing about that," Rattle started.
"Never mind! Just- see if we can get some of the Guard in her detail. Shadow 'em if you have to, but I don't want any reports to say we snubbed some fancy-damned superstar." He didn't quite sneer the last word, but it was close.
"Yessir," Rattle said. "If I hear anything more, I'll let you know!"
There was that weird note in her voice again, but before he could ask her about it, the comm disconnected. He glanced down at the harchling, who'd gone docile again once they saw he was heading in the right direction.
"Fine, kid," he said, switching to his outer comm again. "We'll do it your way, but I hope you're okay with eating alone."
He wasn't honestly sure either of them would be allowed in since he couldn't provide a name or sponsor for the harchling, but if their guardian or caretaker was indeed in there at least it'd solve half his problems. Then he could concentrate on the nightmare of some ditzy singer running loose without a Guard presence.
Sure enough, as they approached the entrance to the cafe a silvery protocol droid stepped into the doorway.
"I beg your pardon, Sir and Mx," it said, "but the Freedom Cafe is off limits to non-members."
Disdain dripped from its tone. If it had more of a nose it definitely would have been looking down it at them.
"Do you see who you're looking for?" Fox asked.
The harchling turned a bit to face the droid and began to talk. It was full of whistles and clicks, and when they finally stopped, the lights in the droid's eyes actually blinked as it took a step back, bowing.
"My most profound apologies, Your Ladyship! Of course you and your Noble Guardian are most welcome!"
It bowed again, moving aside and gesturing for them to enter.
"If there's anything Your Ladyship requires, please, don't hesitate to ask!"
Fox looked down at the harchling, who gave him a squinty-eyed look in return. How something with six eyes, fur, and mandibles could radiate smugness like that was beyond him, but there was no doubt that's exactly what they- what she- was doing.
"Your Ladyship, huh?" He moved past the droid, taking a quick look around the room as he made his way to the serving line. "Something you want to tell me?"
She chirped at him, her tone inquisitive, and all her eyes wide in an unconvincing display of innocence. He huffed.
"Yeah, that's what I thought."
For a species that was supposed to prefer a liquid diet, the harchling seemed happy enough to stock up on steak and shellfish. After some argument he convinced her to take some vegetables as well, then she returned the favor by insisting he pick food for himself.
There were a few visiting dignitaries sitting on the far side of the room as well as a gaggle of aides making a mess and swapping horror stories about their senators. Nothing he hadn't heard before. He'd set the harchling down so he could carry both their trays and she strutted along behind him as if she owned the place. Knowing his luck, she probably did.
He picked a quiet table shielded by plants with a nice view of the air traffic outside and set the trays down. Her Ladyship climbed into a chair on her own and stared at him until he sat.
It was a good thing that there was no one here to see him being ordered around by a toddler. He'd been in far more humiliating situations and unlike other times he wasn't afraid to tell her "no," but, well, sometimes it was easier to just go along with whatever was happening and younglings were one of his biggest weaknesses. At least the ones who weren't malicious demonspawn like their parents.
Fox pulled his helmet off and set it on the empty chair beside him. He still had his wrist comm if there was an emergency and Rattle kept "dropping" his calls as if it wasn't blatant she was doing it. The squad channel was full of the usual chatter, so while he was suspicious, he wasn't worried something was wrong.
He ate his burger and "truffle fries," savoring every bite and trying not to think about how much worse rations were going to taste after this. He also did his best to ignore the unpleasant crunching sounds from his companion. Apparently harch could eat shellfish whole.
He accepted what pieces she offered him and caught every attempt she made to hide her vegetables, making sure she ate all of it.
It was the best meal he'd had in his entire life, and he hoped that whoever she was- or whoever her parent might be- that they wouldn't find a way to reverse the charge to his account instead.
While he was brooding over how to get her back where she belonged, she gabbled at a passing serving droid, who sped off only to return with a couple of plates sporting enormous slices of chocolate cake.
"You've gotta be kidding me," he said.
The harchling pointed her fork at him and whistle-clicked at him, waiting. He could refuse; he'd been more than reasonably accommodating and even a clone had to draw a line somewhere, but... it was chocolate cake. With at least two inches of chocolate frosting and a dollop of what was undoubtedly real whipped cream slowly melting over it.
He picked up his fork and took a bite. Flavor exploded in his mouth and he closed his eyes to savor the moment. He heard a chirp and the clatter of a fork on china that meant his tiny abductor had joined him.
"What is the point of all this?" He asked between bites. "You're clearly more capable than you pretend and if you really needed help it sounds like the droids here can actually understand you."
The harchling tilted her head, making an inquiring chirp. There was frosting smeared around her mandibles.
Fox gave her a level look. "Just because I'm a clone doesn't mean I'm an idiot, miss." He sent a silent prayer to the Great Seas that he wasn't setting himself up for a reprimand by talking back.
The harchling put down her fork and reached across the table toward him, taking his free hand in both of her upper ones and stroking it. She crooned softly, which wasn't much of an answer but did feel like an apology.
One of her middle hands came up, clutching a small stuffed toy, and pushed it across the table. He put down his own fork to pick up the toy, which looked like a well-loved yellow harch.
"I don't understand," he said, checking to see if it had a name or ID on it.
The harchling brought her middle hands together and tilted her head against them, closing her eyes.
Fox's mind reeled. "You... want me to take a nap?" He couldn't quite believe it. He'd had a lot of strange days in the Guard, but this was borderline surreal.
The harchling opened her eyes and nodded, but before he could respond there was a commotion at the door.
He was up and shielding the harchling before he'd made a conscious choice to move. Cam droids hovered in the air and he recognized a couple of reporters backing into the room, peppering someone with questions.
Then the "someone" stepped in and he felt his stomach drop.
It was another harch. They had ghostly white fur that glittered under the flashbulbs and startling blue eyes. They were wearing a shimmering black dress and carefully-fitted matching boots.
The harchling behind him gave a piercing whistle and hopped to his shoulder and he struggled to secure her, heart hammering wildly as all attention focused on him.
Several camdroids buzzed over and Kilsa Rumano, whom he'd had the misfortune to encounter several times already, looked like she'd just been handed a leading headline. She probably had. He could imagine the headline: Clone Commander Kidnaps Child.
The white harch, however, tossed two sets of arms theatrically in the air. "Ferra, my niblet! There you are!"
The crowd around them parted as the harch glided across the room in their direction, trailing reporters, attendants, and- yes- two guardsmen in her wake. It must be Bivi, the singer Rattle had warned him about. He was completely fripped.
"I see you found a dashing Guard Captain to watch over you," Bivi continued. "Well done!"
"Not just any Commander, mum," Ferra said in perfect Basic. "This is Commander Fox!"
Fox's neck wrenched painfully as he twisted his head to stare down at her. She grinned up at him, mandibles wagging.
"You..." He couldn't form words. At least not ones that were safe to say in current company.
She reached up to pat his cheek, leaving little smears of frosting.
"Commander Fox." The clicks in Bivi's voice almost sounded like purring. "Just the man I wanted to see!"
The next bit of time passed in a blur of praise from Bivi, questions from the reporters, and commentary from Ferra, who was acting as if he'd saved her from certain death.
It turned out that Bivi was in the Senate to accept a special thank you from the Chancellor for some charity fund she'd apparently organized for the clones. That really must have stuck in his craw, Fox thought. She'd wanted to meet whatever troopers she could find- including the Guard- but had been told they were all "too busy." Hence sending Ferra out to find one.
Ferra was the equivalent of around seven, but very mature for her age, and knew how to use that to her advantage. She decided he seemed overworked and endeavored to treat him the best way that she could.
The "plight" of the clones was mentioned to the eagerly listening reporters, and Bivi had some harsh criticisms of the Senate- and Palpatine in particular- that Fox knew would come back to bite him in the ass, but he was a little overwhelmed at that point.
The shaking shoulders of the two guardsmen in the back of the room and the flowery apology from Rattle told him that Ferra wasn't the only one who'd set him up for this.
Bivi had piles of merchandise for him to distribute among the Guard and any other interested brothers. She also handed him a stack of tickets for her show later that evening, and as she handed them to him one of her clawed fingers tapped against an off-colored card mixed in with the tickets.
Ferra gave him a chocolaty kiss on the cheek and thanked him for his help, mumbling an apology for tricking him. Her mother kissed him as well, thanked him, and whispered in his ear that more help was always available as long as he knew where to look.
It took awhile to get everyone herded back out into the hall and for once Fox was grateful for the snobbishness of the cafe droids, who were not above mildly electrocuting reporters to get them out of the way.
Since Bivi and her entourage were on their way out Fox corralled the two guardsmen, Divot and Banger, into helping him carry their gifted haul back to the office.
"Breathe one word and you're both on Sewer Inspection for a month," he growled.
They saluted, but he could tell they were still laughing behind their helmets. Good help was hard to find. Between them and the traitorous Rattle, the sewers were going to be safer than ever.
Once safely locked in his office, he inspected the concert tickets. In among the front-row tickets was a slip of paper with a string of numbers and a four digit code.
Just in case the Chancellor forgets to pass this along.
- Bivi
It was the Support Our Troops account she'd been raising money for. Fox didn't dare take a look, not yet.
In among the t-shirts, bags, branded glowsticks, and other Bivi-related paraphernalia were some encrypted comms, datapads, and some top-of-the-line jammers. Fox breathed out slowly, wondering exactly what he was getting into with this. Maybe it was time to comm Cody. Chances were he was the intended recipient anyway. After all, why would a famous pop star care about him in particular? He never made the holonews like Cody did.
He reached up to touch the spot where she'd kissed him and his fingers came away Corrie Crimson. Kriff. He checked his reflection in a datapad and saw two odd marks on his cheeks; one larger crimson one and a smaller black one. Kriff kriff kriff. Maybe he'd wind up on the holonews after all. Or at least, most definitely, the tabloids.
Sewer Inspection duty wasn't severe enough. He'd need to think up something worse.
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countessofbiscuit · 3 years
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Commander Fox reviews footage of the Cold Spear Peace … for work, of course.
A few creative liberties taken, but I think Fox would be so enamoured of Senator Chuchi by this point, and very proud of her diplomacy. Five-foot-nothing and marched up singly to a mounted hostile force … she’d never make a pikeman, but she stood fast upon the snow.
For Commander Fox Week - Day 6: Victory | Caring
@loving-fox-hours
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kkrazy256 · 3 years
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“ i thought i lost you. ” with my fav bros Fox and Thorn? <3 (all the sentences are soooo good)
Hey Amiko <3 Hope you don't mind that I used this prompt for CommanderFoxWeek @loving-fox-hours
Title: Redemption Inside the Grave
Prompt(s): Day 2: Hope | Forgiveness, "I thought I lost you"
Warnings: None
Characters: Commander Fox and Commander Thorn
Additional Tags: Post- Scipio, Commander Fox Needs a Hug
Word Count: 1821
[On Ao3]
The amount of datawork that sits on Fox’s desk after a mission is usually a good indicator of how it went. 
Good missions start with stacks of blueprints, detailed strategies, and the files of his best troops. These missions end with minimal thanks (it’s expected, it’s what they’re made for. What need is there to show gratitude?), and most troopers on the file with their status update still green and labeled functioning. There isn't much datawork for these types of missions. 
Bad missions start hurried by time and Senators, with minimal preparation, and not enough vode (never enough vode). They end with everyone important mad. Mad at him (of course, who else? He deserves it. He deserves it all. He fucked up. He’s always fucking up). It ends with spitting insults about incompetence and hurling threats of decommissioning. But none of it hurts. At least it never hurts more than the blocks of red (deceased) on the files he has to read through and sign off on. These missions end with more vode coming back in bodybags than on their feet, and Fox can’t help but think, I did that to them.  
The worst missions? It’s the ones where he wakes up underwater, a weight heavier than an anvil over his chest, stealing every breath and pushing him deeper and deeper into the dark. Missions where he does things he doesn’t fully comprehend beyond I followed my orders, I am a good soldier. Only to look back and think, is he?  
It’s holding up his blaster with still hands and perfect calm. It’s taking deadly aim even when he sees the resignation in Rex’s eyes and feels nothing. Nothing until the body hits the floor and he can’t take his own helmet off to pay respects because what right does he have? Because his hands are finally starting to shake, the weight of his actions hitting all at once and dragging him to the bottom of the ocean floor. 
But this, 
Fox looks down at the stack of datapads on his desk. The room is dark, the desk lamp unplugged and on the ground. There are no windows. The air is stuffy and stagnant; he wonders if they are cleaning the vents again. 
The top datapad lights up when he lifts it. The halo of blue illuminates his immediate area. The helmet sitting at the corner looks purple, the visor staring back at him like a void. Every time he blinks, it burns from somewhere behind his eyes. Fox doesn’t remember the last time he truly slept. (Before the ARC trooper, before Scipio —) 
It’s a mission summary report, written hastily enough for there to be a few typos. It’s short, barely a few paragraphs long, and his eyes glide over the words without retaining anything. His focus is on the attached list of updated statuses.
It’s all red. Red Red Red Red.
He thinks these types of missions are even worse than the ones where he doesn’t have control. 
 Red Red Red.
These missions should not end like this. They go prepared, they go with their best. 
Red Red Red.
So why do they end like this?
Red Red Red —
Green. 
The stack of datapads shift slightly, and the desk trembles as a shadow settles on the edge.
“If it breaks, I’m stealing your desk.” He pinches the bridge of his nose hard, and the throbbing ebbs away into something dull. 
“Does that mean you’ll do my datawork too?” Thorn’s voice is light and teasing, but something’s off. He leans forward to pick up the helmet and the blue lights up his face. His eyes are tired, but the crinkling around the edges always betray his mirth. There’s no crinkling there right now; Thorn just looks exhausted. His hands turn the helmet around, fingers tracing over the painted wings on the temples. 
“I’ll do it for Scipio.” Fox blurts out, and the fingers pause. 
“You don’t have to.” 
“I do,” Fox doesn’t know why he does, but there’s something pressing in the back of his brain, telling him that he shouldn’t let Thorn do it, “you should get some rest. Remedy would kick your sheb if he finds out you came here instead of to medbay.” 
“Well, you don’t have to snitch.” Thorn sniffs and Fox shakes his head with a scoff. He picks up the stylus to start going over the report in detail.
A gloved hand lands on the corner of the datapad, and Fox looks up. Thorn’s eyes reflect the blue glow, flickering to read the upside-down words. 
“Hawk found me.” Thorn whispers.
Fox remembers the pilot during one of the 501st’s shore leaves. Thorn’s batchmate is slightly more serious than Thorn himself, but they share the same air of wild freedom, unable to be tied down. He remembers them taking off their helmets with matching grins, showing him their twin emblazoned wings. 
“How’d he look?”
“Horrified. Scared.” Thorn’s laugh is humorless, “I thought he was going to kill me himself if I wasn’t a—.....it wasn’t pretty, Fox.” he swallows hard, “there wasn’t much we could do.” 
“...You went with less than two platoons. None of us were expecting the level of activity you got.” 
The hand pulls back, leather creaking under the pressure of a clenched fist, “I lost them all, ori’vod.” 
“But you’re here.” Fox places his own hand over Thorn’s. Everything feels cold, “I...it’s not your fault.” 
“I think if any fingers are to be pointed, it would be towards the commanding officer during the mission, Fox. Which would be me.” 
“You weren’t supposed to be the one leading Scipio.” Fox snarls and the aftermath of his outburst echoes through the room. He takes a shuddering breath.
“I was.”
“Fox…”
The air gets stuck in his lungs, and he kneads his palms into his eyes hard enough to see sparks behind the lids. 
Scipio was supposed to be his mission. But he was—still is, a complete and utter wreck. After the incident with the ARC trooper, he hadn’t had a chance to stop. It became a blur of meetings. With the Chancellor, with Skywalker, with Rex, with his Guard. All with little variation. Everyone just wanted to know, what happened?  
And Fox didn’t have a good answer for any of them.  
He’s so tired.
And Thorn had found him in his office then, just as he did now. He had found Fox sitting at his desk with the stylus in a death grip, staring at plans and contingencies. Found him running on fumes that not even caf could fix at that point. Found Fox in his arms immediately to steady him when he stood and started careening to the side. 
I fucked up, Thorn. I fucked up so bad. 
I’ll go to Scipio. We’ll talk more when I get back, alright? Please get some rest, ori’vod. Please.
And Fox had agreed. Because he was tired.
Tired of seeing the ARC trooper’s bone-white armor out of the corner of his eye every time he started to slip. Tired of the Chancellor’s oily praise for a job well done in killing a vod for the Republic. Tired of Skywalker’s needling curiosity. Tired of Rex not blaming him. Tired of everyone telling him, it’s—
“Fox, it’s not your fault.” Thorn’s words from before the mission mesh with the words that Thorn’s repeating right now. 
“Well, who’s is it then?” Fox snaps, slamming his palms back down on the desk. His vision blurs with random patterns from the prolonged darkness, and Thorn’s image swims in front of him. He had gotten about an hour of unconsciousness before his comm beeped with urgent matters from the Chancellor. He’s been on his feet ever since. 
He should’ve just stole some stims and gone to Scipio. 
“Why aren’t you all angry?” He continues, the plastic of the datapad strains under his grip, “not you, not Stone, not Thire. Not—” He stutters, “not Rex. None of you are, and I don’t understand .” 
“Why do you want us to be, Fox?” 
He falters, heart stuck in his throat. It beats erratically and his stomach turns. 
If they’re mad, there’s something to work with. He can apologize (even if it means absolutely nothing). Amends can be made (how. You fucking bastard, how?) He can fix it. He has to fix it. 
How?
“You want us to be angry because you’re angry with yourself.” Thorn sets his helmet down, leaning forward to study Fox with dark eyes that see through his very core. 
His lips curl upwards.
“Oh, ori’vod. You want us to forgive you.” 
There are tears in Thorn’s eyes. (Or are they his own?) 
Thorn’s forehead presses against his, and Fox presses back with a sobbing exhale. 
“You already have it. We’re not the ones you’re looking for forgiveness from.” 
 A strand of long hair slips from Thorn’s ponytail and brushes against his cheek. It hits Fox with a sudden urge for how things used to be. Back when the war had only just started, and they were all shiny and thought things would get better. Back when he had enough time and energy to sit in the command lounge and braid Thorn’s hair clumsily. 
Hound’s better at this than I am, you know.
Mmm, yeah but I want my ori’vod to braid my hair.
Spoiled little kih’vod. 
“I thought I lost you.” He manages between hitched keening breaths ( when had he started to break down? Just now? Months ago? Two years ago?) 
“I’m never gone, ori’vod.” Thorn hums, reaching up to squeeze the back of his neck. It’s so cold, “Just marching—” 
Far away. 
The door to his office opens, and Fox jumps back. 
“...You alright, Fox?” Stone stands at the entrance, a datapad in his hand. 
Fox blinks, glancing down at the one in his own hands.
The list of troopers stares back, every name in red.
The Separatist Blockade was successfully broken through. Senator Padmé Amidala was safely extracted from Scipio under the command of Jedi General Anakin Skywalker and the 501st Legion. 
No other Republic survivors were extracted. Recovery efforts have been approved and engaged. 
 — CT-4991 (Hawk) 
“Fox?” 
“...What is it?” 
“The recovery mission on Scipio just returned. We’re heading to the crematorium right now.” Stone shifts on his feet, “you coming?” 
“...Yeah.” Fox reaches for the helmet on his desk, red and black without any wings. His eyes feel crusty and swollen. At this point, he has no idea if they’re even open and seeing the right things anymore. 
He’s so tired.
Fox slips the helmet on and stands. The world spins, and he bites his tongue hard enough to taste blood. He walks towards Stone. 
“You sure you’re alright? I could have Thire take the next shift. He’s—” Stone’s breath hitches, “he’s up for promotion now anyway.” 
“I’ll be fine,” Fox says as he passes his Second, stepping out into the hallway.
He’ll be fine.
/
<3
[ao3]  if you wish to drop a kudo/comment :) 
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loving-fox-hours · 3 years
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Commander Fox Week 2021
Commander Fox Week is an Art and Writing Challenge that was created because Fox needs more love. It takes place in the week from the 9th to 15th August 2021.
You want to participate? The rules are simple:
1. Post your work on Tumblr and tag it with #CommanderFoxWeek2021 and @ me in the post. I will reblog it here. You can also post a link to your work if you posted it on another website.
2. Please tag your work! Use appropriate tags and warnings.
3.  If anyone wants to do clonecest, I ask you to put a warning (that counts for everything sensitive) before your work and then put a read-more link after that so anyone that doesn’t want to be exposed to that kind of content can easily skip it. If you don’t do this I can’t reblog it.
4. All general rules are stated in the pinned post on this blog and apply to this event. That post also includes a suggestion as to how to format your post for anyone who struggles with that. You do not need to use that format, but your post structure must be in order with the rules.
5. Choose one (or both, if you want to) of the prompts for every day and be creative. Ships or no ships, everything is welcome :)
If you have any questions you can send asks or DMs
 The Prompts:
Day 1- Loyal | Exhaustion
Day 2- Hope | Forgiveness
Day 3- Family | Time Travel
Day 4- Bonding | Laughter
Day 5- Recovery | Vode An
Day 6- Victory | Caring
Day 7- Brothers | Hug
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karlyanalora · 3 years
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Prompt(s): Day 2 Hope
Warnings: N/A
Summary/Description:  Hope is a dangerous thing, but Fox finds it creeping in despite his efforts. He blames the kids. (A potential scene in Speak for the Silent)
Hope is a dangerous thing.
It makes you reckless and foolish, pursuing things the rest of reality says is pointless. It causes you to look to the future, to make plans, to expect something better than today. Hope makes the evil in the world all the more glaring and convinces you things can change, that maybe you can be that change.
Hope is a luxury Fox can’t afford. And yet…
As he sits in a room surrounded by Jedi younglings, a small bandage on the side of his head where his chip had been removed, he feels the stirrings of that dangerous feeling.
The words of kind Jedi and brave senators ring in his ears. We know the Chancellor is a Sith Lord, they say, and we’ll find the evidence to arrest him as the traitor he is. Just you wait and see. You and your brothers will be free.
There are a million mountains to cross between now and that promised arrest. If Palpatine has covered his tracks until now, why do they think they can catch him now? But Fox finds himself believing they will.
Damn hope, damn it to the Pit and back. He can’t afford to be caught in its trap.
Peals of laughter bring him out of his thoughts as he watches the Wookie youngling toss a smaller Nautolan above his head and a Tholothian girl catches him with the Force. A younger Dathormirain youngling watches from the sidelines, not quite ready to join the fun.
A few minutes later they’re sitting in a circle, answering the question “If I wasn’t a Jedi, I’d be…”
A Rodian girl looks to him and asks, “Commander, if you weren’t a soldier, what would you be?”
Fox blinks at her. He’s never thought about that. He just assumed he’d always be at war. Once this one ends, they’d freeze him and wake him up for the next.
The Dathomirian boy speaks up for the first time. “Fox will be a father, a grandfather, and a great-grandfather.”
Fox gapes at him. That...that was beyond his wildest dreams. Imagine him living long enough to have grandchildren, much less great-grandchildren! Could that really happen?
The Rodian girl beams. “Yes! Imagine lots of mini commanders running around.”
“A daughter” Fox blurts out, and he’s not sure what prompts him to say that. But now that it’s been said, he couldn’t stop thinking about it. “I’d have a daughter, and I’d name her Breha.”
The Wookie child growled something. “Gungi wants to know what she’d look like,” the Nautolan translates.
Fox shrugs. “I don’t care; she could be a Genoisan and it wouldn’t matter. She’d be mine and I’d love her.”
The kids nodded and launched back into their conversation. He watched them, confused by the funny warm feeling in his chest. Soon they started playing Lift the Feather where the children lifted a feather off a bench using the Force.
Fox smiled. “Hey, I think I could do that.”
They all gave him a funny look. He got up and walked to where the feather was resting on a pillar. He closed his eyes, held out his hands, and…
Popped his head under the edge of the feather and blew up. Sure enough, the feather floated off the pillar farther than anyone had managed yet.
“That’s cheating!” the human boy protested.
Fox grinned. “No, it isn't. The only rule was no touching it. I didn't touch it.”
The boy opened his mouth to protest but he was interrupted by another voice.
“Correct, Commander Fox is," Yoda said as he entered the room. "Named aptly he is. Learn from him how to think creatively, you should. Off to your lessons for now.”
Fox watched them go, the warmth in his chest growing, especially as the two girls stopped to wave at him. Perhaps hope wasn’t such a bad thing after all.
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ladysongmaster · 3 years
Text
Commander Fox Week 2021
Day 7: Brothers | Hug Vodpile
Brothers’ Keeper AU - AO3 
@loving-fox-hours 
Warnings: mild language *side-eyes Fox and Jango* 
Characters: Commander Fox, Jango Fett, clone cadets 
Word Count: 942 
Summary: Some of Fox’s younger brothers get scared by a particularly violent storm on Kamino.
             Thunder boomed loud enough to rattle Fox’s armor on the stand at the foot of his bunk. He’d returned from his nightly walk around the growth tower room over an hour ago and hadn’t managed to get to sleep yet. He swore he could feel the room swaying around him with the power of the waves hitting Tipoca City.
           It wasn’t a hurricane; not yet anyway. But it was damn close. The emergency sirens were probably going to go off any second now.
           Another boom shook the city and Fox got to his feet with a sigh. There’ll no sleeping until the storm passes. He pulled on the grey flight suit that went under his armor, and headed back to the tower room. If nothing else, he could keep his little brothers company until he could sleep.    
           Fox was aware he was picking up tails as he walked. The soft pitter patter of cadet feet followed just beyond the curve of the hallway where he couldn’t see them. But they weren’t stealthy. Not at just two years old—four standard.
           He didn’t shoo them back to bed. Fox remembered what it’s like to lay in his sleeping pod, awake and terrified as storms rolled over Kamino when he was a cadet. Training hours are over, so he’s inclined to be less strict. Just this once.
           To his surprise, Jango is in the tower room. Only just inside the doorway, but that’s closer to the growth tanks than Fox has ever seen him.
           “Couldn’t sleep?” Fox asked.
           “Not with all the damned rain pounding on my window.”
           “And Boba?” Fox inquired.
           “Kid’ll sleep through an orbital bombardment,” Jango said fondly.
           Probably because he doesn’t have the memory of an actual orbital bombardment seared into his brain from flash training, Fox thought, unkindly.
           His anger isn’t at Boba though. Or even at Jango really. Fox is pretty sure Prime doesn’t know what the cadets are subjected to during flash training. He’s pretty sure Prime doesn’t want to know.
           Fox was determined to beat the desire to know more about his clones into Jango during their sparring sessions one of these days. It had gotten the man this far.
           Behind them, someone sneezed and the hiss of shh! filled the air.
           “You baby them too much,” Jango muttered. “Should have sent them back to their pods.”
           “Kark you, Fett,” Fox replied amiably.
           There was a chorus of gasps from the littles hiding just around the bend.
           Jango grinned and clapped Fox on the shoulder. “Have fun, vod.”
           Fox twitched any time Jango called him that. He knew it didn’t mean the same thing to Jango that it did to the clones, but it always made him jolt. Fox watched as Jango turned down the hallway, away from the group of cadets that still thought they were hiding.
           Another round of thunder shook Tipoca City, and some of the cadets failed to muffle their cries of fright.
           “You’re not fooling anyone,” Fox said. “Follow me, or go back to your pods.”
           He strode into the tower room and within a few feet he found himself surrounded by littles. Many of them were dragging blankets or carrying pillows. A few of the braver ones were comforting their sniffling companions.
           Fox found a tower with a batch of brothers just a day or two away from decanting and sat at the base, arms folded over his chest. The cadets clustered in front of him, as if afraid to actually sit with him.
           It was Cody—of course it was—who broke the impasse.
           He walked over to Fox and sat next to him, wrapping the thin grey blanket around his shoulders and leaning into Fox’s side. Little Fox—Ka’ra, one of these days Fox will wrap his mind around that one—moved next, curling into Cody and covering himself with his own blanket.
           The rest of the cadets followed piling around Fox and snuggling close to each other.
           “Rough night?” Fox murmured, tucking a blanket around Ponds and Stone.
           “’S too loud,” Wolffe growled. Which was adorable coming from a four-year-old.
           “Makes me afraid I won’t wake up,” Doom whispered.
           Fox’s heart cracked, and he rested a hand on the cadet’s head where he curled around Neyo.
           Osik.
           Fox was here to prepare his little brothers for what was to come, but he also wanted to protect them.
           “You’ll wake up, vod’ika,” Fox said, and his voice only hitched a little. “I promise.”
           Thunder roared, and more littles trickled into the tower room. Someone was going to chew his shebs for this in the morning. At the moment though, Fox didn’t care. His little brothers needed him. He beckoned to the newcomers and they joined the pile of vod’ikase steadily growing around the base of the tower.
           At the next crash of thunder, several little brothers flinched or whimpered.
           Tentatively, a little self-consciously, Fox began to sing.
Kandosii sa ka'rta, vode an.
Coruscanta a'den mhi, vode an.
Bal kote, darasuum kote,
Jorso'ran kando a tome.
Sa kyr'am nau tracyn kad, vode an
           He was pretty sure the author of the war chant had never meant it to be a lullaby, but sung softly, it seemed to work for the littles.
           Cody sighed and snuggled closer into Fox’s side. Hound hugged Fox’s left calf as if it were his future massiff, Grizzer. All around him, the cadets settled.
           As the next round of thunder rolled across the city, Fox raised his voice slightly, then lowered it again, as the rumbles faded.
           “Thanks, ori’vod,” Cody mumbled into Fox’s side.
           Fox ran his fingers through Cody’s soft curls. “Any time, vod’ika.”
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gaeasun · 3 years
Text
I’ll Rest When I’m Dead
Commander Fox Week 2021
Prompt(s): Forgiveness (out of order but whatever)
Warnings: Major Character death (don't worry its not really sad)
Relationships: Fox & Thorn, Fox & Fives
Characters: Fox, Vader, Fives, Thorn, tiny little bit of Dogma and Tup
Additional Tags: I’m pulling a Risk Riordan, Fox needs a hug, Fox needs a nap, and he gets BOTH. Fox gets closure. Clone Heaven, hurt comfort but more comfort than hurt for once
Summary/Description:  CC-1010 is killed by Vader. Fox wakes up and sees brothers he’d never thought he’d see again
@loving-fox-hours @amikoroyai cause it’s Fox related
“You have failed me for the last time, Commander.”
Vader reached out his hand, towards Fox, who never had a choice or a chance, who stood helpless while his neck jerked of his own accord.
A single crack sounded, and Commander Fox slumped to the ground, lifeless.
No one who was there mourned. No one could.
*****
Fox opened his eyes. Strange. He could have sworn he was dead.
Then everything came rushing in, more clear than in years. Fox shot up and began hyperventilating.
“Woah there vod. Easy.”
That voice… the slightest inflection that Fox was able to pick out from the rest. Something Fox had never though he’d hear again.
“Th-Thorn?”
“Yeah, vod. Come on, breathe. You’re safe.”
“I’m dead,” Fox choked out. “I, Vader, he-”
“Shhh,” Thorn said soothingly, and hugged Fox close. “Yeah, you marched on. But hey, nothing worse can happen now. You’re safe, vod, I promise.”
Fox panted into Thorn’s shoulder, until his breathing slowed and he’d stopped panicking. Which happened faster than usual.
“Thorn,” he said suddenly.
“Yeah?” “Thorn.”
Fox sprang up and tackled Thorn. “You slimy son of a shabuir, if you ever do anything like that again, I will having scrubbing the refreshers until-”
“Until what?” Thorn said all too cheekily.
Until the day you die, Fox was going to say. That didn’t exactly work here.
So he just tackled Thorn and pinned him to the ground, and draped himself over him.
“I missed you too,” Thorn said, from underneath Fox. Fox grunted.
After some time, Fox rolled to the side and allowed Thorn to breathe (did they need to breathe?). Thorn flopped an arm across Fox’s chest.
“I’m glad you’re here,” Thorn laughed. “Not that I wanted you to die, but you know how you’d always say, ‘I’ll rest when I’m dead’?”
“I’m dead, why do I need to sleep?” Fox pointed out.
Thorn groaned. “Because you can you di’kut. You finally can rest. No more paperwork, no more working yourself under the waves trying to help everyone around you.”
“No more Palpatine?” Fox said softly.
Thorn flinched, then shook himself. “No more Palpatine,” he promised. “Now come on. You’re taking a nap.”
Standing, Thorn offered a hand to Fox. He accepted, and let Thorn lead them deeper into the forest. Why were they in a forest? Fox had no idea. He’d never even seen a forest. It was nice.
Too nice. In all honesty, it didn’t feel real.
Fox froze.
“What’s wrong?” Thorn tilted his head.
“This can’t be real,” Fox whispered. “It’s too nice. I never get nice. This is all some crazy dream, isn’t it?”
Thorn sighed. “This is real Fox. I’m real. You’re here. Just please, sleep. You’ll feel better when you wake up.”
Fox had already let his mind wander. He numbly moved with Thorn to a large and gnarled tree, where Thorn sat down and pulled Fox down with him.
“Sleep, ori’vod. You’re safe now.”
It went against Fox’s instincts, but he so badly wanted to believe Thorn, he closed his eyes and let Thorns warm presence lull him into sleep.
*****
When Fox opened his eyes, he felt refreshed like he hadn’t in a long time. Night had fallen, but light from a large moon above gave enough visibility in their surroundings.
Thorn stirred underneath him. “How you doing?” he yawned.
“This is real,” Fox’s voice trembled. “This is too good to be a dream. I don’t have good dreams.”
“Aw vod.” Thorn sounded so sad. “Come on. Let’s go find the others. They’re probably at the fires now.” Others?
All the shinies he’d failed, all the brothers he’d watch march on. Here.
“I can’t do this.” Fox found himself hyperventilating again. “I can’t, can’t face them. I let them down, I let them die.”
“You did all you could, and more Fox. Please. Let them tell you that they don’t blame you.”
Fox wanted Wolffe or Cody so badly. But they weren’t here, were they? They were still fighting. Or still trapped in their own heads, more likely. Fox’s fault. He could have stopped it. If only he’d-
“Breathe, Fox.” Thorn pressed his forehead against Fox’s, and patiently waited until Fox had calmed.
Once again, Fox let himself be led, like a tooka kit. Soon Fox heard noises, happy noises. Laughing and banter and cheering. Sounds he hadn’t heard in a long time.
One vod stood above all the others, shouting out a story.
“And then, you know what Tup did? He taunted Krell, may he be dead in horrible agony, and the besalisk fell right into his trap.”
“Kriff Krell,” shouted a vod with a v-shaped tattoo, while a long haired brother laughed in delight next to him. The cry echoed around the vode with much gusto.
“Krell died on his knees, like, like…”
The orator trailed off as he made eye contact with Fox.
Kriff.
Fox tore himself away from Thorn and ignored his shouting as he ran deeper into the forest, further away from the reason he called himself vod’kyramud on the nights where self-pity and shame threatened to drown him.
Someone was chasing him, Fox could hear the rustling behind him.
Fox ran faster and harder, until all the trees blurred together and too fast for him to really dodge-
Fox ran face-first into a tree and collapsed to the ground.
“I don’t think that was your finest moment, vod,” panted someone behind him. Not Thorn.
Fives hoisted Fox up, but Fox let himself fall to his knees, too ashamed to look his, victim, in the eyes.
“Aw jeez,” Fives muttered. “Please, just, don’t.”
I’m sorry, Fox wanted to scream, but his throat was all closed up. I’m so sorry, you were just trying to do your job and I had to do mine-
“Stop,” Fives said firmly, and Fox realized he might have indeed said those words out loud. “It’s ok. You’re right, you know. You never did have a choice.” Fives pulled him up again and held him so he couldn’t fall. “Honestly, I don’t know if Palpatine told you to do it, or you were just trying to protect yourself and your men. But I don’t care. We each just were trying our best, you know?”
Fives chuckled, and pulled Fox so his forehead was against his own. “I’ve had a lot of time to think. To wonder what I was going to say to you, what I was going to do. And even though you don’t need it, you have my forgiveness anyways.”
“I, don’t, deserve it,” Fox sobbed out. If it wasn’t his fault, then why did he feel so painfully guilty?
“It doesn’t matter. I’m giving it to you. Here, take it.” Fives pretended to hand something to Fox, so ridiculous that it pulled a half sob, half chuckle from him.
“Palpatine messed with your head, vod. The more you keep trying to blame yourself, the more you let Palpatine stay there. We were both victims of something so much bigger than either of us.”
Fives turned and pulled him towards the distant fire. “Come one. Why don’t you meet my aliit? They’re a good bunch.”
Fox shuddered. “You’re a good man, Fives. You don’t even need to call me vod. I’m so, so sorry.”
“I know. It’s ok. I forgive you.”
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stuffedeggplants · 3 years
Text
A Thousand Desires Such
Prompt: Hug
Commander Fox/Riyo Chuchi
@loving-fox-hours
No warnings apply
The privacy screens outside Riyo’s garden veranda were operating only at partial power, letting the muffled sounds of the city slip in over the hum of the building’s backup oxygen generators. On another world Fox might’ve heard the quiet thrum of insect wings or the rustle of small avians in the plants around them, but this was Coruscant, and he couldn’t miss what he’d never known to expect.
He may not have even noticed them anyway, wrapped up as he was with someone he loved.
“And this one?” Fox asked, thumb brushing over the design worked into the brassy surface of Riyo’s ring.
He twisted his hand up with hers and brought it to his lips, her jewelry cool against his cheek where her fingers were cooler still.
“The younger sister of the moon goddess,” said Riyo. Her voice was soft as she pulled his hand back down, and Fox let her guide him, heeding the gentle tug that brought his arm across her chest, twin to the one wrapped about her waist. “The goddess of fortune and will… of desire.”
Fox kicked his foot out against the mossy stones of the veranda beneath them, impelling their swing backward with a light, swooping motion. Patches of night sky peeked through the leafy wineberry vines that criss-crossed the trellis over their heads, revealing the lights of Coruscant’s low-orbit traffic. They winked and fuzzed across layers of atmospheric interference, and to Fox they seemed like the gleam of distant stars. It all made him feel like they existed in a separate place, where Riyo was the bright point of light that had carried them away.
“Fortune?” asked Fox with a whisper. He adjusted himself over the cushions in the corner of the swing and pulled Riyo tighter, keeping her close so that he could feel the hum of speech beneath her ribs like it was beneath his own skin too. “Then I already have everything from her that I need," he said, turning his face into the side of hers.
[Read more - AO3]
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seventhskycorps · 3 years
Text
Commander Fox Week - Day 1: Loyal | Exhaustion
This is a deleted scene from waiting for my sun to shine that i decided didn’t fit the tone of the fic. i’ll be posting it in two parts. i hope you enjoy!
Commander Fox/Riyo Chuchi (pre-relationship)
warnings: some angst, insinuations of abuse
Riyo couldn’t hold back a smile as she stepped inside Fox’s tiny office. She waved around the datapad in her hand before unceremoniously dropping it on his desk.
His scowl softened a bit when he saw her, the closest to a smile she could usually get with him. “What’s this?”
She sat down in the chair across from him and took one of his hands in both of her own, trying and failing to hide her joy when he subtly squeezed back. “Freedom.” Finally, finally, she and Bail and Padmé and Mon had found enough evidence to prove that Palpatine had been funneling Republic funds through secret channels for years. They hadn’t yet determined where the credits were going, but it would hopefully be enough proof of corruption to get him out of office and elect someone who could actually end the war. “I’m presenting it in two days.”
He furrowed his brow and picked up the pad to look at it closer, keeping his hand in hers as his eyes scanned across the text.
Suddenly, he jerked back and dropped it as if she had burned him. “You can’t tell me this.”
She frowned. She knew how much he hated Palpatine, and she thought he would be happy at the idea of finally being rid of him. “What do you mean?”
Fox clenched his jaw, got to his feet, and picked up the datapad, handing it back to her. “Tell me you won’t bring this to the Senate.”
Riyo took it back without thinking, her mind racing with confusion. Sure, Fox reported to Palpatine, but it wasn’t as if the man could read his mind. “Fox, this is enough to prove the corruption we’ve known about for so long! If this works, we could get him out of office! The Delegation of 2000 wants to call a vote of no confidence.”
Fox’s hands twitched as if he wanted to take her hands again, but they remained stubbornly by his side. The crease between his eyebrows deepened, and his voice dropped low and quiet. “Do you have any idea how much danger this puts you in?”
“How can I think about myself right now? If the Delegation can get someone else in office—Fox, you and your brothers could be free.” This was one of the things she had been working towards ever since she became a senator at the beginning of the war. She and Padmé had created countless bills for clone citizenship, each one shot down by Palpatine. After the war, he always said, with no thought to the thousands of men who would die before then. As if sentient rights mattered less than a petty fight over whether or not a system could withdraw from the Republic.
Fox closed his eyes and briefly turned his head away from her. His hair was longer than she remembered it, the curls beginning to fall into his eyes, and he had the scruffy beginnings of a beard on his chin, telling her that he hadn’t had a proper night’s sleep in several days.
“Fox.” She stood, stepping around his desk to close the space between them, and reached up to put one hand on his cheek. “What’s wrong?” He must know something. With all the paperwork he got saddled with, he probably knew all Palpatine’s secrets. She never asked about those things because she didn’t want to seem like she was using him for information or force him to choose between his loyalty to the Republic and his friendship with her. When she was with him, she didn’t have to be Senator Chuchi of Pantora. She could just be Riyo.
He brought one hand up to cradle hers. His hands were rough, callused, and scarred, but they were always so warm. “You can’t show this to the Senate.”
“I have to,” she whispered. “It’s my duty as a member of the Republic to expose corruption. Besides,” she smiled up at him. “Your Guard is very capable. Nothing is going to happen to me.”
Fox shook his head and took a step back from her. “Tell me you’ll let it go. I have a meeting with him tonight, I have to report this.”
Riyo wasn’t sure why it mattered if Palpatine knew beforehand, but Fox seemed to think it was important. “Why? Your duty is to the Republic, not to the chancellor.”
“There’s no difference.”
She laughed incredulously. “Yes, there is!”
“Not for us,” he snapped. “You don’t understand. He could order me to kill you.”
Riyo froze. Fox would never hurt her.
But the look on his face, the expression of horror when he realized what he said, the way he subtly backed away from her—told her that he didn’t know that.
“Fox,” she said slowly, already fearing his response. “Has the chancellor ever ordered you to kill a senator?”
He didn’t answer. He didn’t have to.
She could tell he was shutting down, probably thinking of everything that could happen to him for telling her that or her for knowing it. He was probably mentally running the numbers on whether he could knock her out and drag her somewhere safe before anyone noticed she was gone.
Riyo took a small step forward. “I’m going to call Thorn.”
“He doesn’t—”
“You need to sleep. And eat. And you can’t do those things if you’re hunched over your desk doing paperwork.”
Fox sighed and dragged a hand over his face. “Thorn doesn’t have clearance to sign off on some of these. It has to be me.”
“Then they can wait. What is it you and your brothers say? ‘You’re no use dead.’ I’m calling Thorn, and then I’m calling Vos. You don’t have to do everything alone, Fox.” She stepped toward him again, and when he didn’t react, she wrapped her arms around him. His plastoid armor was hard and unforgiving against her cheek, but the way he held her more than made up for it. He was both firm and gentle, like he needed her in his arms but was terrified of hurting her.
“I’m the only protection they have,” he finally whispered. “He—he doesn’t do anything to them because he has me. I don’t let them see him alone anymore.”
Riyo’s heart began to sink into her chest as she re-questioned every bruise or scar she had ever seen on him. What did he go through every single day? How had she not noticed?
Normally, she would push, but he didn’t need that right now. Now, he just needed a friend.
“What can I do?” she asked. “How can I help?”
“Don’t call Thorn,” he pleaded. “I almost lost him a few months ago, I—” he made a small sound at the back of his throat, like he was stifling a sob. “I can’t put him in danger.”
Riyo pulled away just enough to take his face in her hands. His expression was the same impassive mask it always was, but his eyes were rimmed with red. “How about this, then. You can let your commanders know that you won’t be available for the rest of the day. Then we can get some dinner, and you can get a good night’s sleep before—When is your next shift?”
“0600 tomorrow morning. But I do still have a meeting with the chancellor tonight. I’m afraid there’s no getting out of that one.”
Riyo pursed her lips. “Okay. Dinner, then your meeting, and then sleep. In your actual bed, Fox. If I must tuck you in myself, I will.”
The corner of his mouth twitched. “Yes, ma’am.”
-
@loving-fox-hours
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tiend · 3 years
Text
frailty of the flesh
Prompt: Laughter | Bonding
Commander Fox Week
@loving-fox-hours
Fox’s favourite bit of the holo is when Senator Burtoni’s other hand claws through the lethris upholstery and starts shredding he stuffing inside.
Kaminoans have made a cultural virtue of self-restraint. Before Geonosis, many clones imagined the Jedi to be similar - after all, the Kaminoans appeared to be peaceful. Passionless.  Scientists who were respected galaxy-wide for their knowledge, the elite of a harmonious society. Just like the Jedi code that they’d memorised.
Although the Senator for Kamino has adapted to Coruscant high society, some things are too deeply ingrained. To a clone, used to evaluating every microexpression that crosses a wet-bone face, her fury and frustration is unmistakeable.  A KE-8 pilot shows less emotion when shocking a cadet into unconsciousness.
Halle Burtoni has the hiccups, and people are not giving her the privacy she so desperately wants.. A concerned semi-circle has trapped her on the settee, all offering water and sure-fire treatments.
To the Coruscant Guard’s eternal regret she doesn’t try the Koorivan Senator’s suggestion and hold onto her own tongue.
If Fox advances the holo frame by frame, he can watch the tremor move from her narrow shoulder, up her neck, and wobble her head for all that she tries to lock her jaw.  Kaminoans do not admire the squat, muscular bodies of their product, preferring the elegant curves of their own bodies. Unfortunately for her, and a morale boost for every Corrie, what should be a graceful sweep of the neck is instead swaying around like one of the novelty dolls that are supposed to be stuck on the dashboard of speeders. Her head is moving in irregular circuits. On larger hiccups, she’s in danger of headbutting some of her well-wishers. She’s reeling like a shiny so hungover he’s still drunk, late to morning parade and in danger of throwing up on his glossy boots.
At normal speed, he can enjoy the sound of the hiccup itself, the undignified squeaks that’re causing ripples of laughter around the ready room every time someone fresh turns up and is more-or-less forced to copy it to their helmet and watch it immediately. Then their shoulders start to shake with glee, and the cycle continues.
Her trapped anger is a glorious thing, those elegant fingers digging away at a hapless bit of expensive furniture, because she’s lost control of herself in public. There’s nothing she can do except sit and hiccup and suffer and hiccup, and she’s throwing the Kaminoan version of a tantrum as a result.
Even better, she knows that there are clones present. Knows that they’re recording her, because of course they’d’ve give her the helmet specs before she left. When her gaze flickers over one of his men she goes slightly cross-eyed with rage, and Fox’s smile grows under his helmet.
He’s humming under his breath as he begins to draft a careful memo to his fellow marshal commanders. Something about the classification level of holos taken inside the Senate, and awareness of certain contraband holos that may already have been passed to the GAR. They can’t miss this.
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one-real-imonkey · 3 years
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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: CC-1010 | Fox & Jaster Mereel Characters: CC-1010 | Fox, Jaster Mereel, Myles the Mandalorian (Star Wars), Nexa Qest, CC-2224 | Cody, CC-3636 | Wolffe, CC-6454 | Ponds, CC-5052 | Bly, CT-7567 | Rex, Jango Fett Additional Tags: Nightmares, Time Travel, Past Abuse, Mind Control Aftermath & Recovery, Implied/Referenced Mind Control, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Age Regression/De-Aging, Trauma, Recovery, Hugs, CC-1010 | Fox Needs A Hug, mentioned dehumanization, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Manipulative Sheev Palpatine, Sheev Palpatine | Darth Sidious Being an Asshole, Evil Sheev Palpatine, Mind Manipulation, Good Parent Jaster Mereel, Headaches & Migraines, Clone Trooper Inhibitor Chips (Star Wars), Family, Protective Family, CommanderFoxWeek2021 Series: Part 3 of Commander Fox Week 2021, Part 9 of Star Wars One-shots and unfinished WIPs. Summary:
Fox and his batch have been in the past for a month and a half, de-aged and living with their new Buir, Jaster, and vod'ika Jango. But Jaster is worried about his ad, and one nightmare brings Fox's horrors to the surface.
  Day 3- Family/time travel.
@loving-fox-hours
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