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Chapter Text

He came to clutching his neck and gasping for breath.

Fox could still feel the phantom fingers around his neck, hear the dry shuddering rasp of Vader’s respirator. He heaved what little contents of his stomach onto the floor of his office.

His office?

The sound of a door whooshing open, then—

“Fox, emergency meeting with the Chancellor,” A horribly familiar voice was saying, “whoa, vod. You ok?”

The creak of leather as the specter crouched down to inspect his face. Fox flinched at the sound.

“Stay back!”

He lashed out blindly with a hand and connected with something solid. The little red wings on Thorn’s helmet wobbled. It wasn't Vader.

“You’re d-dead,” Fox stammered when he recognized who it was. He had read the mission report. Thorn had gone out the way he always boasted he’d die, guns blazing and sticking it up to the Separatists.

“Have you been drinking again?” The dead Coruscant Commander sighed. He stood and made his way over to the other side of Fox’s desk, “here, have some caf. Wake that stressed brain of yours up. I’ll grab one of the shinies to mop up this mess. We got an emergency on our hands. Need you at your best, Fox.”

“What emergency?” He croaked, accepting the caf and still staring. Thorn removed his bucket and tucked it under an arm. His expression was grim.

“One of our own made an attempt on Chancellor Palpatine’s life just now,” He said with a frown, “did you not get the priority alert messages Thire sent out earlier?”

“Fives,” Fox realized with a jolt. He scrambled to his feet, head throbbing painfully from the sudden movement.

“Yeah, ARC-5555,” Thorn nodded, “crazy, huh?”

“No no no, this can’t be happening to me,” Fox muttered in horror. His heart was pounding. The nausea was coming back with a vengeance, “none of this is real. I died. It was finally over. I-I-I could finally rest...”

“What’s taking you so long?” Another voice yelled from the corridor, “Thorn, is he in there?”

“Yeah, but he’s acting real weird. Keeps saying he died,” Thorn shouted back as Stone’s head popped into view, his expression impatient.

“We’re all about to die if we don’t report to that meeting,” Stone snapped. He tossed something at Fox. His arms shot out automatically and caught the object. It was his bucket. For a split second, Vader’s grip was back, choking the life out of him. Fox swayed on his feet.

“Let’s move,” Stone said again.

Thorn grabbed the helmet and crammed it over Fox’s clammy face. His HUD flickered to life.

“Come on, vod, get it together,” Thorn murmured, clapping a gloved hand over his left pauldron.

This wasn’t real, Fox thought the whole way to Palpatine’s office, hallucinations of a dying man. Forced to live through his biggest regret as punishment before he could move on. He just had to stomach it all and get it over with. It would be simple. He didn’t even have to deviate. Fox had the ultimate script carved into his brain already.

He went through the motions.

The Sith Lord hiding in plain sight pulled him and the senior commanders aside and ordered them to execute the deviant Fives.

Fox led his shock troopers to that cursed hanger.

“No, no, stay back!” Fives’ panicked shouts. Fearful paranoia and frustration in his eyes.

None of this was real. All Fox had to do was stick to the script and pull the trigger.

Stick to the script.

“Stand down!”

Only, he yelled the command to the men behind him, not Fives.

“Let him speak,” Fox said the words he wished he had the first time around.

“Sir, that’s the defective trooper,” One of his boys pointed out, confusion coloring his voice. “Shouldn’t we—”

“Alpha One, this is Crimson Tide, we have eyes on the target, preparing to execute,” Thire’s voice said over their private comm line. Fox saw him for a split second, his white and red armor half-concealed behind a stack of crates on the opposite side of the dark hanger bay. Thire lifted his blaster and fired.

Fives crumpled to the floor.

He experienced the brief sensation of falling. Fox opened his eyes.

He was back in his office again. The door opened to reveal Thorn in his armor.

“Fox, emergency meeting with the Chancellor.”

This time he made it to the fresher down the hall before vomiting. 

Chapter Text

Fox chose a spot in the back of the conference room this time. His head was still reeling. It was as if everything had rewinded the moment Thire shot Fives. Palpatine’s pale lips were still moving, but he had tuned out the words. Fox could almost memorize the old man’s lines at this point.

How did he not notice that this putrid thing was the root of all evils. Fox had put his life on the line multiple times to protect Palpatine from those so-called assassins. Countless brothers had died for him.

And all for what.

“Commander Fox, are you alright?”

His head snapped up at sound of his name. Palpatine was peering right at him. The simmering rage lit into an inferno inside Fox’s chest. He reached for his blasters. Shouts erupted around him, Thorn’s panicked voice loudest above all. He dove in front of the Chancellor, Fox’s first shot piercing the plastoid over his chest.

A brief flash of surprise in the old man’s eyes.

Fox snarled, the sound more animal than human as he lunged, but the steel-like arms of his own men held him back. Then, searing heat and all-consuming pain. The weapons slipped from Fox’s lax fingers. He glanced down and saw the four red-hot blaster marks in his breast plate. Thire’s gun was still pointed at him.

So this was what it felt like when Fives died.

“Fox, emergency meeting with the Chancellor.”

He staggered to his feet and shoved Thorn out of the way.

“Hey, where are you going?” The other commander shouted after him. Fox ignored him and keyed in his emergency access code to the security elevator up to the Chancellor’s office. He pulled out his blasters and took a few sharp breaths.

This had to be some form of Sith manipulation. It had to be. And even if it wasn’t, Fox still owed to all the lost brothers and dead Jedi to kill Palpatine.

Except this time he never even made it into the old man’s office. Fox barely stepped onto the carpeted floor of Palpatine’s waiting room before invisible fingers curled around his throat and lifted him off his feet. The thick doors at the end of the hallway creaked apart. He clawed at his neck. It was Vader all over again. Fox could hear the mad rush of his heartbeat in his ears.

“You think too loud, my dear commander,” The Sith Lord purred, stepping closer to peer at him with all the disinterest of a boy about to crush a bug, “tell me, where did I slip up?” 

Fox wheezed. No words came out. 

“I suppose it doesn’t matter,” Palpatine mused, “someone as sharp and astute as yourself, Fox. It was only time before you figured it out. I should have chosen Commander Thorn to be my aide.”

He pulled something from within the confines of his dark robes. Fox saw a flash of silver, heard the hiss of a lightsaber. Pain exploded in his gut.

“Fox, emergency meeting with the Chancellor.”

“He’s a Sith Lord,” Fox lurched upright, banging his hip against the sharp edge of his desk and stumbling into Thorn.

Arms reached out and steadied him. “What?”

“Palpatine, vod,” He said, voice cracking, “he’s the one those Jedi are looking for.”

“Have you gone mad?” Thorn’s fingers tightened around his vambraces, hard enough to hurt.

“I’m not crazy,” He pulled back, a tendril of dread snaking its way inside, “you don’t trust me.”

“I do trust you,” Thorn pulled off his helmet. He wasn’t smiling like his usual cheerful self. “I just don’t believe you. Are you drunk again?”

“No,” Fox snapped, shoving past him. There had to be a way out of this.

“Where are you going?” Thorn shouted after him, “Commander Fox, stop! I order you to stop, trooper!”

He didn’t even make it to the end of the hallway this time. Stone and four Coruscant Guards came pouring out of a side corridor and tackled Fox to the floor.

“No, you don’t understand, he has to die!” He kicked out and caught Stone’s jaw with a booted heel. Fox twisted and elbowed an unexperienced shiny in the face. He flipped another one out of the way, and using the momentum, head-butted the fourth guard. The last shiny gulped visibly before throwing himself at Fox.

Five against one. He almost felt sorry for them. Fox had been the top of his batch in terms of hand-to-hand combat. He’d even taken Cody down without breaking a sweat, and Cody had been reigning champ on the floor mats.

Too bad Fox forgot to take in the fact that Thorn still had his blaster on him.

-

He woke up in a small, modest cell; stripped down to his regulation blacks. Fox’s shoulder and back area was killing him. The skin felt tender to the touch and the scent of burning flesh permeated the stale air.

Thorn had stunned him. Likely more than once judging from the pain.

There was a small cup of water and a moldy piece of bread in a corner. Fox pressed his hot, aching cheek against the cold floor and closed his eyes.

“CC-1010, you're finally awake.”

It was Thire. Fox didn’t bother opening his eyes. He could recognize that vod by voice. Gods, he had relished in teaching his men ruthless efficiency when it came to dealing with potential enemies of the Republic. Loyalty to the Chancellor before any allegiances to the vode. Duty always came first. Now it was all coming back to bite him in the ass.

“How long was I out?”

“A little over a day,” Came the cold reply.

Fox laughed, the sound of a man utterly defeated. Oh, yeah, he probably didn’t have to wait much longer. Fives was probably close to death any—

A familiar jerking pull in his abdomen. He kept his eyes stubbornly shut, but the texture beneath his cheek had shifted from cold metal to the cheap carpet of Fox’s old office in the senate building.

“Fox, emergency meeting with the Chancellor.”

Kark it.

Chapter Text

Fox’s head throbbed. The excruciating migraine was back, but he pushed on relentlessly. Attempting to kill Palpatine clearly didn’t work. At least not the dozen or so times he tried with various different methods, each more outlandish than the last. He even tried ramming a starship into the side of the senate building once, not that it worked. And then, there was that one extraordinary time Fox managed to convince Stone and Thorn to take a large party of shock troopers up to the Chancellor’s office to arrest him for treason against the Republic. It had been especially brutal. The Sith Lord had made Fox watch as he slaughtered every one of his brothers before turning the blood red saber on him.

So, Palpatine was off-limits.

Message received. Loud and clear.

The strange loop that he was trapped in seemed to automatically reset every time Fox or Fives died. Maybe if Fox managed to keep Fives alive, this day would end and then he could move on. Whatever divine entity that saw fit to issue such a punishment was downright cruel.

He routed the surveillance droid feeds to his private comm, and relayed false information to the other teams tasked for Five’s arrest. Fox stunned the three unfortunate boys that had been assigned to Alpha One and left them bound and gagged in the ship he took down to the lower levels. He approached the rusty hanger where Fives had scheduled the meeting with Rex and the Jedi that would go on to become Darth Vader. Fox’s hands were trembling with nerves, head dizzy from how hard his heart was pounding. He could hear Fives’s hysterical voice as he inched closer.

“You don’t understand, general, this is bigger than you could ever imagine!”

Damn right it was. Only Fox doubted the two trapped in the ray shield believed Fives’s nonsensical conspiracy rant. That same logic would understandably apply if Fox revealed himself now and said he believed the ARC trooper. They’d never crossed paths before, and Fox was infamous for being Palpatine’s righthand man.

How would he convince Fives to trust him?

“Someone else is here,” Skywalker’s voice interrupted Fives’s disjointed babbling. Fox cursed under his breath. He had forgotten to factor in the Jedi’s Force abilities.

“Who’s there? Show yourself!” Fives yelled.

Fox had to think quickly. He pulled the twin blaster pistols from his holsters, placed them on the cold metal floor, and slid them over to Fives.

“I’m unarmed, coming out. Don’t shoot.”

He stepped out of the shadows with both hands raised.

“Who the hell are you?” Fives demanded, confusion crossing his sweaty face.

“That’s Commander Fox of the Coruscant Guards,” Skywalker said coldly, “he’s here to arrest you, Fives.”

“No, I’m not,” Fox snapped hurriedly when Fives’s left hand made an aborted motion toward one of the guns on the crate next to him. “I believe you, Fives.”

“No, you’re lying to get me to lower my guard,” Fives panted as Fox moved closer. His eyes were sliding in and out of focus, and Fox realized with dread that someone had likely drugged him.

“I know, Fives. I know about Palpatine,” Fox said. He hesitated, glancing at the scowling Jedi beside CT-7567. Was Skywalker in on it at this point? Did he know about Palpatine being a Sith Lord?

“What are you two talking about?” Rex asked.

“You knew and you did nothing?” Horror replaced the confusion on Fives’s face. He grabbed one of the blasters, “you’re working with him!”

Fox blanched under his bucket. “No, I—”

Fives pulled the trigger.

If he couldn’t convince Fives, then Fox would just have to bring him in.

He gestured for the three troopers behind him to fan out. He’d instructed the boys to set their blasters to stun despite Palpatine’s orders. Fives was still a vod and Fox was their highest commander, so it hadn’t been difficult. All he had to do was get to Fives before Thire’s team arrived.

“No, no, stay back!”

Fox lifted his blaster, took aim, and fired a stun bolt at the panicked figure in the middle of the hanger. Fives went down like a lead balloon, unconscious before he even hit the floor.

“Release us!” Skywalker demanded. Fox hesitated for a moment, trepidation crawling back with a vengeance at the sight of Vader. Then, he shot the projector in the ceiling and the ray shields faded away.

Rex immediately ran to his teammate and pulled Fives into his arms. He checked the ARC’s pulse with two fingers.

“Is he ok?” Fox asked, heart in his throat.

“Yeah,” Rex breathed, relief easing the hard lines of his shoulders. He peered up at Fox, “thank you for not killing him, Fox.”

Those words made him feel a little ill.

“Come on, I need your help transporting the prisoner back,” He told Rex, pausing to squeeze the captain’s shoulder.

“You got him? Is he dead?” A voice from the opposite side of the hanger called out. Thire walked into view a few seconds later, his blasters still drawn.

“No, I stunned him,” Fox said, hoping Thire wouldn’t try to contradict him now.

“Against our explicit orders?” The other commander pulled of his helmet and lifted an eyebrow.

“Who gave the orders?” Skywalker asked with a frown.

“That’s classified information, sir,” Thire responded stiffly even though the answer was obvious. He turned toward the others in his team. “Alright, I’ll send it in. You guys cuff him. Let’s get going before he wakes up.”

Rex gently lifted the unconscious ARC trooper into his arms. Fox fell into step beside him. He needed to be close in case anything else happened. The ride to the upper levels was fraught with tension. Fox kept his gaze glued to Fives’s gaunt face where it was half-buried against Rex’s neck. Then, Fives’s lashes fluttered, his eyes moving restlessly behind his sealed eyelids.

Fox tensed.

“What’s wrong?” Rex asked him a second before Fives bolted upright, bound hands scrabbling at his throat in a chillingly familiar way that Fox was well acquainted with.

He couldn’t breath.

Someone was choking Fives with the Force.

“Fives!” Rex shouted frantically as his teammate toppled to the floor, still making those horrible wheezing noises and convulsing violently.

“No, no, no!” Fox shot to his feet and ran at Skywalker, seizing the Jedi by the throat and slamming him against the side of the ship, “let him go!”

“Have you lost your damn mind?” Skywalker gasped, hands fastening crushingly hard around Fox’s wrists, “it’s not me!”

“Release the Jedi, Commander Fox!” Thire was shouting, hands going to his blasters.

Utter chaos in the confines of their ship. 

He managed to catch a glimpse of Fives before the loop reset. Rex was still crouched protectively over him, but the light had gone out of Fives’s eyes. Fox felt that tingling shift again.

He opened his eyes.

“Fox, emergency meeting with the Chancellor.”

He crawled upright and punched Thorn in the jaw.

Chapter Text

The Guard medic did not look impressed when Stone tossed Fox and Thorn both into medical. Thorn’s left eye was swollen shut and Fox’s nose was still bleeding sluggishly, result of a vicious uppercut.

“You, I did not expect this type of behavior from,” Val addressed Fox with a disapproving frown as he slapped a wet bacta patch onto Thorn’s face. He walked over and inspected Fox’s nose, “you’re lucky it’s not broken.”

“He hit me first,” Thorn accused, working his sore jaw with a pained grimace. “I wasn’t even trying to be annoying this time.”

“I’m sorry. It’s my fault,” Fox admitted, lowering his gaze. With the frustration and rage mostly gone, all he felt was cold shame.

“Well, whatever it is, it’s in the past,” Val muttered as he dabbed the dried blood off of Fox’s chin with a wet swab, “so you two can stay in medical overnight,” he patted Fox’s shaven jaw, “kiss and make up, boys. Thire can keep things running for one day.”

“Hell of a day,” Fox sighed, wincing as Val tipped his head back and prodded at the red lump forming on his cheek.

“Hmm, Thorn packs a hard punch,” He murmured, thumbing the bruised skin, “I think you might have a fracture here. Yeah, you’re definitely staying overnight, Fox.”

“Sorry, vod,” Thorn said weakly from the neighboring cot.

“Don’t worry about it,” Fox dismissed. Everything was hurting and his face was on fire, but strangely this was the most alive he’d felt since arriving in this endless nightmare.

“See?” Val smirked, warm hand settling on the back of Fox’s neck, “brothers fight, but we still love each other.”

“Yeah,” He bit his lip and tried to return the smile.

“What’s wrong?” Val asked. He was always so observant. It was what made him such a fantastic medic, but Fox’s dilemma wasn’t a physical injury that could be fixed with bacta and rest. There was nothing Val could do to help him.

“Nothing. Go back to your shift. I promise we won’t try to break each other’s faces when you’re gone.”

“You better not,” Val muttered, “I’m tired of hotheaded imbeciles crowding my medbay.”

Thorn managed to stay silent for all of five minutes after their medic left. Then, he hopped off his cot and climbed onto Fox’s.

“You gonna tell me why you were in such a foul mood?” He asked, leaning his weight into Fox.

“You ever feel like you’re stuck in an endless loop that you just can’t seem to break out of?” Fox asked, staring blankly at the patch of light reflected on the immaculate wall across from them.

“Every day,” Thorn snorted, “isn’t that basically our job that you’re describing?”

“Thorn,” He glanced at his brother, “do you think about the future?”

Thorn lifted both of his eyebrows, “like after the war ends?”

Fox nodded.

The other clone was silent for a moment before admitting, “No. I always figured I wouldn’t live long enough to see the day.”

“Yeah, me neither.”

“But, if I could, I’d retire and open a goat farm somewhere with Hound and the scout troopers.”

“Why goats?”

“Because they’re hilarious and like head-butting people in the nards. So we'd have guard animals, food, and something to laugh at.”

Fox shook his head with a quiet chuckle, “you’re an idiot, vod.”

“You’re welcome to join us,” Thorn shrugged, nudging him with a grin. His face was really starting to swell, not that Fox’s was any better. He could feel the skin pulled taut over the spot where Thorn had punched him hard enough to fracture the bone beneath.

“Really?”

“Yes, but you have to promise not to be such a control freak all the time.”

“That’s because my job requires—”

“It’s totally you, Fox. Don’t blame it on the job. You’re like the most uptight guy I know.”

He slapped Thorn upside the head for that rude comment, but the other commander merely laughed.

“Hey,” Fox elbowed him, “if you had a day where you could do anything, Thorn. What would you do?”

“Catch up on paperwork,” Thorn said with a straight face. Fox rolled his eyes, “hilarious.”

“I’d go down to that club Planetarium and ask for Natasha.”

Fox frowned. “Who’s Natasha?”

“Some girl I heard was insanely fun to sleep with. She comes highly recommended by the brothers in the GAR.”

“You’re disgusting,” Fox grimaced at the unsanitary images Thorn’s words brought forth.

“What would you do?” He asked in return.

“I don’t know,” Fox murmured, looking down at his hands, “I’ve always wanted to finish a book in one sitting.”

“Wow, you must read astonishingly fast, or it’s a really short book,” Thorn said, pulling a laugh from Fox’s chest. He exhaled, long and slow, and put his head on Fox’s shoulder, “honestly, I don’t dwell on the future. Things happen for a reason, isn’t that what those weird space wizards say? Trust in the Force or whatever.” He chuckled sleepily, “so, if I die, I die. But just in case the Force Gods are listening, let it be badass and awesome, please.”

The Force.

Fox had forgotten all about it. Vader had slaughtered the remaining Jedi after Order 66. He hadn’t seen a good Force user in years. Was it possible that his predicament was due to some glitch in the mysterious cosmic power that gifted its users with superhuman strength and abilities?

Thorn let out a soft snore, his warm breath tickling the side of Fox’s neck. He glanced at his brother’s sleeping profile. There was a scar on his chin from flying shrapnel a few months back when he’d leapt in front of Senator Chuchi.

“Don’t go on that mission to Scipio,” He whispered, ghosting fingers over Thorn’s relaxed brow, “if you die, who’s going to look after those goats with Hound?”

-

The Jedi Temple was a massive thing, looming like a sleeping beast in the darkness, its heavy doors tightly shut against the world. Fox took the long flight of stairs up to the front entrance of the fortress-like establishment.

The unyielding steps felt foreign against the soles of his boots.

Was he supposed to knock? Who would hear him at this hour? He didn’t have much time left. If this loop ran in roughly the same timeframe, he would be thrown back to the beginning in less than 24-hour’s time. At a loss for what to do, Fox sat down beside one of the thick marble pillars to wait.

When he next opened his eyes, the sun was a soft sleepy orb in the horizon. Coruscant’s dawn at this vantage point was breathtaking. He lost track of time for a while as he sat on the ice-cold ground and watched the city rouse itself from its temporary slumber.

Fox shook the stiffness from his limbs and crawled to his feet. He lifted a hand, took a breath to settle his nerves, and knocked three times upon the thick doors.

Nothing happened.

He clenched his fingers into a fist and banged it against the heavy stone until the ache was bone-deep.

Still nothing.

The doors to the Jedi Temple remained closed. All was silent.

Then, Fox’s comm hissed to life. It couldn’t be. He still had hours till nightfall.

“Delta Squad, I have eyes on the target,” Thire said, “preparing to execute.”

That familiar twist in his gut came a heartbeat later.

Powerless to stop its pull, Fox went.

The tiny Jedi apprentice looked up with huge eyes when Fox seized him by the collar and snarled, “child, take me to your grownups.”

-

“I apologize, commander, but all of the Council members are unavailable,” The white-haired crone said, her lips a thin wrinkled line on a severe face and arms clasped in front of beige robes. The round-faced baby that Fox had terrorized to tears was still sniffing softly behind her, one small meaty fist clenched in the old woman’s clothes.

“W-when can I speak to someone?” He asked, desperation seeping into his voice. Her face softened slightly.

“Perhaps you can wait in one of the visitor halls,” The librarian decided, “I will double-check the schedule.”

“You don’t understand,” Fox tried to say, “I don’t have time to waste.”

“We are fight a war, commander,” She said sadly, “you are not the only one racing against time.”

He tried the Jedi Temple a few more times, but none were successful. He was either turned away immediately or the old woman, Jocasta Nu, would tell him to wait.

Fox was done waiting.

“Fox, emergency meeting with the Chancellor.”

“Thorn, I need your grappling hook,” He said, rising to his feet with a grimace. It was never a pleasant experience coming back to this point.

“My w-what?” His brother stammered, taking a startled step back.

“I know you kept it after I told you specifically to get rid of it, vod,” He rolled his eyes and snapped his fingers in Thorn’s panicked face, “give it up. I need it.”

“Why do you need my grappling hook?” Thorn asked suspiciously.

“None of your damn business,” Fox glowered, shoving him toward the elevator. “Move.”

“Please don’t break it, ok?” Thorn pleaded as he was dragged roughly out of Fox’s office.

-

He scaled the side of the wall in seconds.

The silent courtyard in the lower level of the Jedi Temple was void of life. Fox dropped down into the fine white sand of the training ground. There were a few discarded training sabers lying beneath an ancient gnarled tree. He took the few steps up to the hallway and ducked into the shadows when two younglings walked past, chatting animatedly with each other. Fox watched carefully until they were out of sight before turning and—

Running face-first into a firm chest.

Hands came up to steady the clone commander when he flinched back in shock. The tall figure had snuck up behind Fox without making a sound.

“Are you lost, commander?” The green Jedi asked, cocking his head to the side. The long tentacles over his shoulder shifted smoothly with the movement.

Fox recognized him. He’d seen holovids of the man in the news before. He was on the Jedi Council. General something, he couldn’t remember the name.

“Sir, I need to speak to you,” Fox babbled, his heart pounding in his throat, “I think I’m—”

The sinking feeling overtook him again, and Fox opened his eyes to the sight of the carpet in his office.

Fives must’ve gotten himself accidentally killed that time. The karking idiot. That had to be the explanation. Thire was nowhere near Fives the afternoon before Fox shot him.

He repeated the motions — bullied Thorn into giving up his grappling hook and snuck into the Jedi Temple via the training ground. Fox slipped on a toy lightsaber and nearly brained himself on the side of the large tree. Growling under his breath in Mando’a, he kicked it with a booted foot. The leaves rustled overhead, throwing scattered pieces onto Fox’s helmet.

“I would ask if you were lost, commander, but seeing how you just shot up that wall, I’d hazard a guess that you are not, in fact, lost.”

It was the green Jedi again, large eyes crinkling in gentle amusement as he peered down at Fox from his resting spot in the lush green canopy.

“Nice grappling hook, by the way,” He complimented with a small smile.

“It’s not mine,” Fox muttered, tossing Thorn’s precious baby to the side. “I need your help, Jedi.”

Chapter Text

Fox woke to the feeling of small, warm hands on his bare face.

“That is not a very comfortable place to sleep, commander.”

He was back. The green Jedi, as Fox had come to refer to the man in his head. The child crawling around in Fox’s lap froze, its tiny soft fingers still pressed to his bare skin. One of the younglings fired off Thorn's abandoned grappling hook with a resounding bang. Fisto took a neat step to his left. The sharp durasteel hook punched through the air where his face was a mere second ago and shattered a marble banister.

“Kai,” He reprimanded gently, lifting a brow ridge at the little Twi’lek girl as he dusted off his beige robes.

“Apologies, Master Fisto,” She said, not sounding sorry in the least bit. Fisto took in the handful of children that had gathered around Fox while he slept and heaved a quiet sigh. Two of them were wrestling for ownership of the commander’s helmet in the fine white sand, a third hiding under the leather flap of Fox’s kama.

“CC-1010,” Fox said, not bothering to get up from his slumped position beneath the tree, “you’ll need it for your incident report, sir.”

“What incident report?” Kit murmured, tucking his hands into his sleeves. He studied Fox for a moment before asking, “Have we met, Commander...?”

“Fox,” He answered.

Yes, we have. He wanted to say. I watched you die half a dozen times because you were the only fool to believe my story. Saw the light fade from your eyes. Held your cold body in my arms and—

“Don’t think so, sir. I work in the Senate Building.”

“Bit far from your office, aren’t you, Commander?” Fisto remarked, taking a seat next to Fox under the shade of the massive tree. Dappled sunlight flitted through the leaves, bright and fleeting.

“My feet led me here,” He shrugged. It was a half-truth. Fox didn’t know why he kept coming back to this courtyard. The Jedi couldn’t help him with Palaptine, and yet something seemed to want him here. Fox didn’t know if it was the Force. Whatever it was, it was frustratingly cryptic and difficult to understand.

“I would not be surprised,” Kit said, peering up at the green canopy above them, “I was told as a padawan learner that this was the best spot in the entire Temple to tap into the Living Force.” He brushed his palm over the thick gnarled bark behind them, “this tree has been here for as long as the Jedi has been on Coruscant. I hope she will remain long after we are gone.”

It won’t, Fox thought bitterly, that man you all hailed as the Chosen One will burn this tree to the ground along with your Jedi Temple.

“You seem troubled, Commander Fox,” The Jedi said, peering at him with an almost infuriating calm, “care to share with us?”

He looked around at the younglings. The one in his lap had migrated to teething on the edge of Fox’s left vambrace, and two others had joined the fight for possession of his helmet. They’d already torn the visor clean off.

“Not really,” Fox confessed.

“Understandable,” Kit chuckled, lifting a hand and catching the clump of mud a boy threw their way without even looking, “I apologize for the rather unruly behavior of the initiates. I prefer not to dampen their natural spirit and curiosity.”

“They must love you,” Fox couldn’t quite keep the sarcasm out of his voice. Fisto chuckled amicably.

“I’m tired,” He admitted to the Jedi after a pause. It was a perfect day, but Fox felt like he was observing everything from behind a thick, cold pane of transparisteel.

“Then rest, commander,” Fisto advised, rising to his feet with cat-like grace. He turned to the children, “Right, we have slacked off long enough. Time to practice some saber forms, younglings. Grab your training weapons and please give Commander Fox his helmet back.”

Then rest.

The thought had never occurred to Fox. So preoccupied with breaking out of this hellish nightmare, he had not paused to take a proper breath and catalog the years of unending trauma under Vader’s command. The dull pain felt soul-deep at this point, a lingering sensation he carried with him always. Its weight did not dissipate even as he shed the red and white armor that had defined Fox for so long. Without the markings, he was just another clone, a faceless thing bred for war, an expendable commodity.

He stepped out into the sunlit square in his grays. The Senate District thrummed with life and activity, speeder bikes and transporters whizzing past in the organized chaos that Fox had helped shape. This was his life’s work — keeping Coruscant’s outer layer shiny and clean while its core rotted and festered. A team of boys in red tricked from the nearby building and hopped on their speeders, riding off for patrol. Fox doubted any of them would ever recognize him without his armor.

He walked on, past the market district where Fox purchased a fish sandwich that he did not particularly care for, past the smattering of restaurants just starting to open for business, past the school district where the rich and powerful of Coruscant sent their kids off to learn about the world.

Fox had seen so little of it.

Most of his life had been wasted in the endless training simulations on Kamino, then his small plain office on Coruscant, and a handful of planets where he’d been so focused on keeping the Republic representative alive that he’d never really paid any attention to his surroundings.

What was the point of it all?

“Would you like to come in with us?” A cheerful voice asked from behind. He turned and found a young woman peering up at him with a bright smile along with a gaggle of children. “I mean the museum,” She added when Fox didn’t reply, “one of my students came down with a fever this morning, so we have an extra ticket.”

Fox should refuse. The Guards weren't prohibited from engaging with civilians, but he’d made it a personal rule to stay away from the inhabitants of Coruscant. It made things easier when he had to shoot a civilian protester or break up a riot. The young woman and her class were still watching him expectantly. There was no fear in their faces.

“So?” She prompted him.

“Yeah, ok,” Fox replied.

He spent the morning tagging along with the small preschool class as they toured the massive museum of artifacts and specimens from across the galaxy. The guide prattled on ahead, but Fox tuned the man out and soaked in the strange yet wonderful things behind pane after pane of transparisteel. They were a reminder of the sheer vastness of space, just how insignificant he was in the grand scheme of things — a tiny speck of sand in the endless ocean of time.

“There’s an exhibit of the history of Jedi Order the day after tomorrow,” She told Fox once they trickled out of the building. One of the kids had fallen asleep against his shoulder. The young woman murmured her thanks when he passed the boy over. “You are welcome to join us, commander— I never caught your name...”

“Don’t have one,” He lied, “thank you, but I don’t think I can make it.”

The loop would reset long before then.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” She said, meeting his carefully blank gaze with disappointed eyes, “thank you for keeping us safe.”

He spent the next few cycles exploring Coruscant, one time drinking so much he wasn’t sure if he’d passed out until the cycle reset or died of alcohol poisoning and ended it early. It was fun while it lasted, this numbing avoidance. Fox could do anything he wanted and wake up in that blasted office when he opened his eyes again.

The floor of the Planetarium was uncomfortably sticky against the soles of his boots. Fox swallowed down his rising trepidation and caught the attention of the man behind the bar.

“Uh, is Natasha in?”

“You a virgin?” The Togruta grunted, not glancing up from the glass he was polishing with a nasty-looking gray cloth.

“No?”

The bartender finally looked up, “is that a question or an answer?”

-

The woman sprawled in the large bed had light lilac skin and long platinum blonde hair.

“Go easy on him, Nat,” The man that had led Fox to the back muttered, “this one’s a virgin.”

“I’m not—” He tried to protest but the Togruta had already slammed the door in his face.

“Come here, sweetheart,” She laughed, letting her black silk gown fall to the carpeted floor as she rose to her feet.

Fox blanched.

There were extra…appendages on Natasha that Thorn had failed to mention in his wholehearted recommendation.

“You know what, I changed my mind, thanks but I’m going to go now,” Fox nearly tripped over a pair of discarded black panties as he backpedalled furiously toward the exit. He tried the door but nothing happened.

“Oh honey, it’s perfectly normal to be nervous,” Natasha purred, “don’t worry, I’ll make you forget your name soon enough.”

One of the woman’s tentacles had slithered its way around his left forearm. Fox stared at the bizarre limb.

"Fuck,” He breathed, a strange mixture of dread and anticipation settling heavy in the pit of his stomach.

“That’s the plan,” She whispered against his ear.

“Fox, emergency meeting with the Chancellor.”

He glanced balefully up at his fellow senior commander. Thorn lifted an eyebrow down at him, “you ok, vod?”

“You need to get your head checked, Thorn,” Fox grimaced, rolling onto his back with a low moan. His whole body ached, inside and outside.

“Why?”

He sounded genuinely puzzled, the stupid fucker.

“Ugh,” Fox grunted and closed his eyes against the harsh overhead light.

He finally finished that book in one sitting. Too bad the ending sucked.

“You feel sad.”

Fox, who had rushed into the back alley behind 79’s to empty his stomach, wiped his mouth and squinted into the darkness. It was a small human child that spoke up. He couldn’t tell its gender, but Fox saw the pale face sticking out of the torn tarp behind an overflowing dumpster. It was probably one of the countless orphans living in the lower levels of Coruscant. Fox ignored the child and screwed his eyes shut, the sharp, nasty taste of vomit still acute in the back of his throat.

A pair of tiny, dirty feet appeared in his field of vision. He looked up into bright blue eyes as the kid took one of his clenched fists and pressed something into it. The backdoor of 79’s cracked open and a blinding shaft of light fell on them. Past the loud ringing noise in his skull, Fox heard the angry shouts of the owner. By the time everything stopped spinning in his drunken haze, the homeless child had long disappeared.

He opened his hand and saw a solitary piece of candy, still wrapped neatly in wax paper. Tears, burning hot, blurred Fox’s vision as he staggered to his feet and back inside 79’s.

It was probably a bad idea to climb over the bar and punch the owner, but even in his drunken state, it took four off-duty troopers to pull Fox off of the man. In all the chaos, he thought for a fraction of a second that he saw Fives’s shocked face, stark in the crowd, staring straight at him.

You annoying fuck, Fox wanted to rage at the phantom, why won’t you just let me die and move on.

Then, darkness overtook him.

-

He woke up spread-eagled next to his vomit. Cold rain pelted Fox’s bruised face and blended with the tears streaming down his face.

“Karking hell, Fox.”

His head lolled as rough hands seized his arms and dragged him upright. Thire’s voice was dripping with distain as he wiped the blood from Fox’s chin with his gloved thumb.

“This is where you’ve been all day?”

“Fuck you,” He snarled back, jerking away from the other commander.

Thire’s comm buzzed to life. “Sir, we lost track of the fugitive in the crowd.”

“Don’t worry about it, there’s a probe droid with eyes on him,” Thire answered, rising to his feet. Fox wiped his bleeding nose and grimaced at the dull flare of pain. So he hadn’t hallucinated Fives’s face just now. What in Fett's name was the idiot doing at a bar when he was supposed to be on the run?

“Probe droid?” He squinted up at his coworker. Rain was coming down harder now, slicking Fox’s hair against his skull and sluicing down Thire’s armor in rivets.

“Nice of you to join the party,” Thire said sarcastically.

“What party?” Fox snapped back, “All I see are a bunch of incompetent morons.”

“Funny,” The other senior commander folded his arms over his chest, “I wonder if you would still find it funny when the Chancellor promotes me to your position, vod.”

“Be my fucking guest,” Fox rolled his eyes and limped out of the alley.

-

The training ground was eerily empty when he dragged his abused body over the wall and into the Jedi Temple. Rain dance along the leaves of the massive tree sitting like a sleeping beast at the other end of the yard. Fox wasn’t sure why his feet took him here yet again.

“Why me? What do you want?” He asked desperately, “I can’t help you, whatever you are. I’m sorry for killing Fives, but I can’t save him. I just want to move on.”

Wind swept through the leaves, rustling them under the relentless drumming beat of raindrops. If someone was trying to answer him, the message was lost somewhere in translation.

“Please,” He dropped to his knees and screwed his eyes shut, praying fervently to the space wizards’ strange gods, “I learned my lesson, just let me go.”

The stinging sensation of rain disappeared against Fox's skin. He opened his eyes and peered around in bewilderment. Torrential rain was still pouring from the black sky overhead, but there was a small circle of calm around him.

Standing in the eye of the storm.

Still staring, Fox lifted a hand and tried to catch a few stray droplets of moisture, but the water parted in the air before it could touch his palm.

“Remarkable.”

He shot to his feet and turned around to find Kit Fisto standing at the top of the steps.

“Are you doing this?” Fox demanded, staring up at him with wide, terrified eyes.

“No,” General Fisto murmured, descending the steps with open wonder on his face, “it’s all you.”

“Force sensitivity in the troopers has been theorized by Master Ti, but never observed in the flesh,” Another voice said as the copper-haired man stepped out into the pool of moonlight. It was the Jedi master that Vader mentioned often in the past, his ruined voice always laced with uncontrollable rage.

Obi-Wan Kenobi.

Fox swallowed uneasily under their combined scrutiny. “What are you talking about?”

“We felt your presence from across the Temple,” Kenobi murmured, stroking his neat beard. “A ripple in the Force.”

“No, it can’t be me,” He shook his head vehemently, “I’m just a clone.”

“And yet here we are,” Fisto said, coming to a stop in front of Fox.

“What is going on?” He asked them.

Kenobi regarded him seriously, “you tell us, commander.”

Chapter Text

"Master Fisto."

Kit, who had just exited the meeting hall alongside a handful of other Jedi Masters, turned to find a small human boy standing in the middle of the corridor. The padawan learner's vibrant red hair and freckles looked vaguely familiar, but he couldn't quite come up with a name.

"Yes?" Kit asked, tucking his hands into his sleeves.

Moisture saturated the child’s green eyes as he latched onto Kit's outer robes. "Can you please help me?"

Alarmed at the clear distress, Kit didn't pause to consider why the padawan would be coming to him for aid when they were essentially strangers to one another. A fat tear rolled down the boy’s cheek. Kit took his small hand, "Of course, young one. Tell me what is wrong."

"It's better if I show you," The padawan said, so Kit waved goodbye to Master Kolar, who had paused to wait for him, and set off with the boy.

He dragged Kit down three hallways, up a flight of stairs and then down two more into the sunlit training yard. Bemused, Kit watched the child clear his throat and call out to the empty grounds, "he's here. I've done my part. Can I have it now?"

A figure stepped out from behind one of the thick stone pillars, a member of the Coruscant military police judging by the clone's red and white armor.

"What is the meaning of this?" Kit asked when the boy twisted free of his grip and skipped over with both hands outstretched. The clone soldier sighed deeply and whipped out an aggressive-looking device with a sharp grappling hook at the end.

"Promise me you're not going to kill someone with this, kid," He said to the padawan as Kit stared between them in confusion.

"Promise," The boy flashed him a wide grin, all traces of his fake distress gone, "good doing business with you, commander."

He raced off merrily with the weapon slung over one shoulder, excited footsteps echoing down the stone steps. Kit watched him go, suddenly recalling that this particular child was Master Jaro Tapal's new padawan learner.

"Sir, I need to talk to you," The clone soldier said hurriedly in the silence, "it's really important."

"I can imagine. It must be important for you to resort to bribing children with a grappling hook, which by the way, is a contraband item within these walls," Kit murmured, turning to face him, "let me guess, it's about the defective clone trooper running around Coruscant we were just informed of? If you're looking for intel on his whereabouts, commander, I probably know less than you do. Master Skywalker and his captain were the ones tasked by the Jedi Council with tracking him down."

"You are the only one I can turn to for this," The man admitted, sounding apologetic, and Kit was suddenly struck with a strong sense of déjà vu.

"Have we met before, Commander...?" He asked as he peered into the dark eye slits in the man's helmet.

"Fox, sir. And yes, we sort of know each other," the clone commander muttered, and after an awkward pause, fumbled off his headgear to reveal a tense face underneath. This close, Kit could sense the waves of desperation emanating from the man. He didn't look well, the bloodshot eyes and minute tremors in his limbs betraying the commander's exhaustion.

"I don't really have a lot of time to explain," He said, taking one of Kit's hands and pressing it to the sweaty skin at his temple. "Sorry in advance, sir."

It was the only warning Kit received as disjointed memories poured from the clone commander, alarming images of Chancellor Palpatine's pale twisted face lit by the blood-red of a lightsaber, a scared-looking clone in blue and white armor with his hands lifted to protect himself from the senate police, clone soldiers marching on an empty Jedi Temple, the bright flashes of a burning tree, and a man in jet-black armor, heavy breathes rattling through ventilators as he squeezed a gloved hand around a man's neck—

Kit staggered back, bile rising in his throat at the phantom feeling of breaking bone.

"I'm sorry," The man, Commander Fox of the Coruscant Police, whispered shakily, "it's usually much faster this way."

"What are you?" Kit rasped, breathing hard.

"Good question," He choked out a broken laugh, "I honestly don't know."

-

"A time loop," Kit murmured, stroking his chin, "I have never heard of anything like this before. Apologies if I have said this to you already, Commander Fox. I do not recall any of our past meetings."

He had taken the poor man up to the Temple terrace overlooking the city below for some privacy. Palpatine's office building could be seen in the distance. Kit grimaced and averted his gaze. 

"Last time you said I had the Force, or whatever mojo you space wizards use," Fox said, "what does that mean?"

"Can you feel its presence?" Kit asked him, struggling to come up with a description, "it is like there's this constant thrumming energy around you."

"No, I just feel exhaustion," He rubbed knuckles over red-rimmed eyes, "Maybe it was a one-time anomaly."

"It can’t be. You have to be more than just Force-sensitive to manipulate the rain like that," Kit pointed out, "unfortunately, it's not feasible for me to teach you how to actively tap into the Force like a Jedi in such short time. If there's any way for us to extend—"

"Fives always dies in less than two days no matter what I do," Fox said, "And then, the loop resets back in my office with the Chancellor calling the guards for an emergency meeting to hunt him down."

"Does trooper Fives die the same way every time?" Kit inquired.

"No, not even when I repeat my actions from the last cycle," The commander muttered darkly, "it's like he's purposefully fucking up everything just to make my life a living hell, the stupid bastard."

"You mean like he might also be struggling with keeping himself alive?" The Nautolan Jedi raised a brow ridge at the fuming man.

Fox glanced sharply up at him. "Do you think...?"

"It's a possibility that Fives is also caught up in this phenomenon as you, Commander," Kit theorized, "he may or may not be equally aware as you are of the situation, but if each cycle varies despite your repeated actions, then there has to be something else influencing the changes, right?"

"Do I really have to find out?" Fox asked, desperate. Kit felt a stab of sympathy for the poor clone commander.

"I wish I could be of more assistance," He said, laying a palm over the man's clenched knuckles in a weak attempt at comfort.

"You've already helped more than anyone else, sir," Fox sighed, looking down at their linked hands, "besides, I really don't want to see Palpatine kill you again."

"Right," Kit smiled bitterly at those words.

He was a fine lightsaber duelist, but judging from Commander Fox's description, still no match for the hidden Sith Lord. This brought forth more problematic implications. If the time loop could only be broken with Palpatine's death, then it would take more than just the Jedi Masters currently on Coruscant to defeat him. Obi-Wan Kenobi was scheduled to arrive back later that evening, but Mace Windu was in the Mid Rim with his battalion and not likely to be easily persuaded to return within the day. Grandmaster Yoda had departed the planet a mere six hours ago to rendezvous with Master Ki-Adi-Mundi. Besides Palpatine, there was also the issue of Anakin Skywalker and the chips inside the clones, including Fox.

"I have to figure out a way to keep Fives alive," Fox muttered. "Problem is, I don't know where he is when the loop resets."

"From what you've shared with me, the momentum seems to always lead you to that bunker in the lower levels," Kit said, "and then Anakin and his captain shows up, right?"

"Yes, he usually makes a stop at the clone bar," The commander added, "and then, if I stick to the original script, the probe droid catches footage of Fives leaving. I then lead the Alpha team in pursuit, and he shows up at the warehouse on Level 1325 waiting for Skywalker and Rex."

"So he must have passed the information on where to meet through someone in between," Kit noticed. "Have you been to the clone bar to investigate?"

"Umm, no," Fox rubbed the back of his head with a sheepish hand, "that one time I went, I got wasted, passed out in the garbage pile out back after puking my guts out, and picked a fight with the bartender."

"Oh dear," Kit said.

"But he was there, I think."

"Might be a good place to intercept the message, commander," Kit reminded him, "if you can draw attention away from the city-wide manhunt of trooper Fives, then maybe you can finally buy some much-needed time."

"Right, I should get going," Fox nodded grimly. He rose slowly to his feet, grimacing slightly as he shook the feeling back into his limbs. The sun was starting to set in the distance, painting the metallic city into various shades of bronzed gold.

"Commander Fox?" Kit called out after him, "I know this may not be of any consolation, but you are always welcome to come to me again. Even if I don't remember our prior conversations."

A hint of a smile briefly softened Fox's features as he glanced back at the Jedi, "you tell me that every time, sir."

"Good," Kit murmured, "may the Force be with you."

"Hello, gorgeous," The medic of the 501st Legion crooned at his own blurry reflection in the grimy men's room mirror. He threw in a wink and finger guns as well, rubbing his left hand over his shaved head with a pleased sigh. Hidden in one of the toilet stalls, Fox bared his teeth in silent disgust. He waited until the man washed his hands clean before leaping out of his hiding spot and pinning a startled Kix into a tight headlock. The medic squeaked once. Then, Fox's palm descended across his nose and mouth, muffling the rest of the protests as he dragged the struggling man into the corner stall and kicked the door shut.

"Shut your trap and listen to me," He hissed in Kix's ear, "in about ten minutes, your fellow teammate ARC trooper Fives will walk through into 79's. Yes, you heard me correctly, the one that every public announcement has been saying made a failed attempt on the Chancellor's life. He didn't do it, they're setting him up. I'm the only one that can help him get out of this situation. I'm going to let you go if you promise to hear me out. Nod your head if you understand, Kix."

The medic nodded shakily. Fox removed the hand over Kix's face, pulled out his blaster, wedged it against the trooper's spine, and let of of his neck.

"Turn around to face me," He said. "Nice and slow."

"Who the hell are you?" Kix asked, glowering at him once they were facing one another in the cramped space.

"Someone who knows the truth," Fox said, "I don't have time to tell you everything, but the Kaminoans drugged Fives on the way to Coruscant. Palpatine set him up so he can bury the secret Fives uncovered."

"What secret?" Kix demanded.

"You heard what happened to clone trooper Tup?" Fox asked, "shot a Jedi in the middle of battle for no reason."

"Yes."

"It's because he was programmed to do so," He said shortly, "we all are. There's a biochip in each clone's head predesigned with an override order to kill all the Jedi. Palpatine has access to the switch."

"What?!" The 501st medic sputtered, "that's impossible! Why would anyone put—"

The door to the men's room swung open at that moment, and Fox pressed a finger to his lips. They heard the drunken murmurs of the men outside, accompanied by heavy steps and the rustling of clothes, then the sound of piss splashing against the urinals.

Someone laughed, a loud crude sound, "hey look."

"That two pairs of boots I see?" Another man said. Fox narrowed his eyes warningly as Kix flushed at the thinly-veiled implication. They both jumped when someone pounded on the stall door with a heavy fist. "Hey, don't be shy, sweethearts. Come on out and give us a show."

"What do we do?" Kix mouthed at him. Fox lifted his blaster. The medic shook his head violently and grabbed his wrist. There was a silent struggle between them while the drunk clone troopers spewed more perverse stuff outside the stall.

"Come on, let's go. This is boring," One of the voices said after a while. Another few excruciating seconds passed before the door slammed shut and silence returned. Kix sagged against Fox and breathed a long sigh of relief. He rolled his eyes and shoved the medic back with the business end of his blaster.

"Concentrate," Fox ordered, "I need you to go outside and pretend to keep drinking with your buddy. Once Fives sees you, come back here. He'll follow you."

"What then?" Kix asked, "how do I know you're not just going to arrest him?"

"I'll give you my weapon," Fox told him, "I just need to talk to him. Please."

"Alright, fine," Kix finally relented and accepted the gun.

-

Fox watched from a distance as Fives slipped into the restroom after Kix. He grabbed the out-of-order sign he'd stolen from the backroom and put it around the handle before carefully locking the door behind him. Fox turned around and—

"What the kriff did you do?" He yelled at a wide-eyed Kix. Fives was sprawled facedown on the dirty tiled floor, his cheek a little too close to a puddle of pee for comfort.

"He was freaking me out!" The medic wailed.

"I told you he’s been drugged!" Fox hissed furiously as he bent down to feel for a pulse.

"I'm drunk, ok? 'm doing my best here," Kix hiccuped unsteadily, "stop being so mean to me."

"I'm surrounded by fucking morons," Fox muttered under his breath, sighing in relief when he happened across the sluggish beat, "wet some paper towels in cold water and put them on his face. How many times did you stun him? Kark it, it's going to take forever to wake Fives up now."

"Oh, I can help with that," Kix piped up, and before Fox could stop him, lifted Fives's armor and stuck something into his chest. Two seconds later, the downed trooper flailed to life with a loud gasp.

"What the hell was that?" Fox asked, barely dodging one of Fives's swinging limbs and climbing atop the struggling man to pin him down.

Kix shrugged. "Adrenaline shot."

"Why are you carrying an adrenaline shot?"

"I'm a medic," Kix scowled, pulling Fives's wrists above his head. He moaned, unfocused eyes rolling. Fox slapped Fives across the face with a heavy backhand. Kix winced at the sound.

"Hey, focus. We don't have a lot of time," Fox grabbed his chin, "you recognize me, trooper?"

"The dickhole that shot me," Fives rasped balefully, "yeah, I'd recognize your ugly mug anywhere."

"Fisto was right," Fox murmured, staring down at him in amazement. "You're in the loop as well."

Fives grimaced and wrinkled his nose. "Why do I smell like piss?"

"Oh, that's on me," Kix raised a guilty hand, "I stunned you, Fives, and you kind of face-planted in the stuff. Sorry."

"Kix," Fives snarled, “you stupid useless piece of—"

"Why didn't you reach out to me?" Fox interrupted before he could finish.

"Why the hell would I reach out to you, my would-be killer?" Fives snapped back, writhing furiously under Fox's weight. "Besides, I'm fucking drugged out my mind here. How do I know you're not some hallucination of mine?"

"Wait, what does that mean? 'Would-be killer?'" Kix asked nervously.

"Shut up," Fox said without glancing up. "Listen to me, Fives. We're stuck in a time loop. Every time one of us dies, it resets, ok? So, we have to work together to break the cycle."

"How can I trust you?" Fives panted, finally going limp under him, "you're the clone poster boy, practically worshipping the ground Palpatine walks on."

"I didn't know. I was only following orders," Fox sighed, "but not anymore. I want him dead, the more painful the better."

"I'm just going to stand over here while you two plot the murder of the Chancellor of the freaking Galactic Republic on the urine-soaked floor of the men's restroom in 79's," Kix muttered faintly as he scooted a safe distance away from Fox and Fives, eyeing them like they were rabid dogs. He bent down and stuffed his head between his knees, "Little Gods, what was in my drink?"

"What do we do?" Fives asked Fox.

"Gotta throw them off your trail," He pointed out, "the loop is too short for us to actually do any harm." He thought hard, "you have to die, Fives. Officially."

"What?"

"On the record," Fox said, watching as realization dawned on the other man's face.

"The morgue," Fives whispered. They both twisted to look at a terrified Kix, huddled in the corner and cradling Fox's blaster to his chest like a security blanket. "You're gonna need a fresh body, commander."

"Looks like it, yes," Fox agreed.

Kix's lower lip wobbled violently. “Please don’t hurt me.” 

“Kix has access,” Fives leaned in to whisper in Fox's ear, "You have to to gain his trust. There's something about him that I promised I'd never tell another soul. He'll know that I sent you when everything resets."

Fox's face spasmed when Fives shared the secret, but he recovered quickly and added, "I also need a few other items, since you have that annoying tattoo on your head that's a dead giveaway. Can you stall as long as you are able to for the next cycle?"

"I'll try," Fives grimaced. "Don't screw me over, Fox. I'm tired of getting shot."

"So am I," Fox muttered.

"Guys," Kix cut in, "do you hear that?"

"Shit," Fox cursed when he picked up the growing commotion outside the restroom. Rising to his feet, he pressed his ear against the door and listened hard. Thire's voice rose out of the cacophony. There were at least half a dozen highly-trained ruthless men in that particular strike team, Fox knew because he'd handpicked them himself.

"There's no way out of this," He turned to Fives, "and I'm honestly sick of dying at Thire's hands."

"What are you saying?" Fives asked, looking disturbed.

"I owe you one," Fox shrugged as he crossed over to Kix and wrestled the gun out of the medic's sweaty grip. He held it out to Fives.

"No, you don't," Fives corrected, "I killed you once already. We're even."

Fox met his tense gaze, "please don't make me do this myself, Fives."

"Fugitive Clone Trooper ARC-5555, open this door right now!" Thire's voice came from the opposite side. "Come out with your hands raised!"

Fives gritted his teeth and took the blaster.

Kix struggled to his feet, "No, Fives, wait—"

"See you on the other side, vod," Fives said grimly and pulled the trigger.