Chapter Text
With the New Year rapidly approaching, most of the GAR commanders and captains on leave had gathered in the Guard mess hall. Fox usually forbade GAR troopers from eating there, but it was the holiday season and nothing had exploded that day, so he had temporarily lifted the ban. A few of the shinies were openly gawking at the large gathering of colorfully decorated armor from the different GAR battalions while the various commanders lounged around their shared eating space.
Wolffe and Keeli, the only two guaranteed not to kill everyone with their cooking, were holed up in the back. Fox could hear the muffled sounds of Wolffe berating one of his new Guard recruits. A poor kid had already run crying from the kitchen earlier. If not for Keeli acting as a shield against the mad head chef, Fox was pretty sure more would have called it quits by now.
“Any plans tonight, Boss?” Stone asked in the form of greeting. He sat his annoying fat ass right next to Fox’s open plate. The Head of the Coruscant Guard grimaced and shuffled closer to Thire.
"He’s on patrol duty with me," Thire answered for him, not lifting his gaze from his datapad. Fox grunted in affirmation and jammed the spoon laden with food into his mouth.
"Not doing anything fun to celebrate surviving another year leading this sexy lot?" Stone persisted, spreading his arms at the packed room.
"Does he look like a man that has fun, vod?" Cody slid up to them with a long-suffering Rex pinned under his armpit. Fox narrowed his eyes at the marshal commander opposite the table from him.
“Hey,” Keeli’s head popping out of the kitchen cut through the escalating tension like a knife through butter, “any of you beautiful bastards know where I can sleep tonight?”
Now that he thought about it, Fox couldn’t recall seeing the guy on shore leave ever.
“You can crash on Bly’s bed, doubt he’ll be getting any sleep tonight if you know what I mean,” Cody snickered, elbowing Rex whose panicked gaze darted to Fox. The marshal commander sobered quickly, “Oh, I didn’t, uh— he’s meeting a prostitute in the lower levels. Yes, Bly’s off to...plow a sex worker...all night long.”
Silence settled over their table. Everyone was watching Fox, including the neighboring group of GAR commanders.
“You’re a terrible liar, Cody,” Fox said flatly. He wiped his mouth with a napkin and sat back, “I don’t care what Bly does during his off-time so long as he keeps up his job performance.”
Cody vaulted over the table and grabbed Fox’s bare face between his hands, “Look Rex, there's a soul in here after all.”
Fox retaliated by pinning Cody facedown in his half-finished dinner. The members of senior command roared with laughter, a mixture of cheering and booing as he shoved his considerable weight down onto the struggling marshal commander.
“You’re getting rusty, asshole,” He commented in Cody’s ear.
“Uh, C-commander Fox, sir,” A thin reedy voice rose from the cacophony. Fox glanced up to find one of the newest Guard shinies standing there, trembling from head to toe.
Still sprawled atop Cody, he asked, “what it is?”
“There’s an old wrinkly green f-f-frog and a b-bunch of children waiting o-outside our barracks,” The kid stuttered nervously. “I couldn’t really understand what he was s-saying, but I think they want to come in. Should we let them?”
“Old wrinkly green frog?” Gree frowned at the description before his brain caught on, “Oh shit, Grand Master Yoda!”
Fox released Cody as Gree shot up from his seat and dashed toward the exit, slipping wildly on some spilled juice and slamming his left hip into a metal table in the process. Cursing and limping as fast as he could, Gree disappeared out the door. The remaining clone commanders exchanged tense looks.
“You think something’s wrong?” Ponds asked Cody.
“Your guess is as good as mine,” Cody replied darkly, shaking a piece of raw lettuce out of his ear.
“Fifty credits it’s Skywalker-related,” Stone snickered.
"Don't speak that cursed name in my presence," Fox growled at him.
Rex’s jaw flexed indignantly. “I’ll take that bet.”
“Sir, you really don’t have to,” They heard Gree say, sounding flustered. Fox climbed up onto the table next to Thire and craned his neck for a better view of the doorway of the mess hall.
He spotted Yoda’s hairy green head before the old Jedi master said cheerfully, “nonsense, Commander Gree. A time of celebration this is.”
“Ha, in your face, Stone! Pay the kriff up!” Rex shouted triumphantly, punching the Coruscant senior commander in the left boob. Everyone paused and turned to stare at him.
“Can it wait until the Grand Jedi Master and the younglings leave?” Stone hissed out of the corner of his mouth as Rex flushed horribly under all the attention.
“Do you need something, sir?” Fox asked, stepping in front of Skywalker's captain before he passed away from mortification.
“Gratitude we wish to express,” The deep wrinkles on Yoda's face stretching to alarming proportions as he smiled, “prepared a song for you the younglings have.”
“The kids are here to sing a holiday carol and thank you for all your hard work this past year,” Gree quickly translated for the rest of the men. A smattering of oohs and aahs swept through the clone commanders. Fox sighed inwardly at their reactions.
“Hang on, let me get Wolffe, Keeli, and the rest of the cooking team,” Ponds piped up. They all stood around and waited in awkward silence.
“Excuse me,” A small purple Twi’lek child stepped forward and asked boldly, “Is Commander Fox here?”
It was Fox’s turn to bear the sudden weight of everyone’s gaze. He cocked his head and frowned down at the girl, “Who’s asking?”
“Master Vos told me to give this to you,” She whisked out an intricate box with a white-lace bow on top.
“I don’t know who that is,” Fox lied without hesitation.
“Do you know Master Fisto?” This time it was a human boy who spoke. Grand Master Yoda looked as bewildered as Fox felt when the second child wriggled out of the crowd and magicked another wrapped item out of his beige Jedi robes.
“Nope, doesn't ring a bell either,” Fox gritted out through clenched teeth. Cody snorted behind him.
“How much did Vos pay you to do this?” The boy asked his classmate.
She frowned back, “Wait, you got paid?”
“Can we please just move onto the song?” Fox asked desperately. He could hear at least three of the clone commanders behind him snickering quietly as the two younglings compared notes.
Yoda nodded, shuffling to face the children. Twenty little mouths inhaled as one and—
Fox's comm buzzed with an incoming priority alert message. It was a direct transmission from the Supreme Chancellor. Stone shot him a dirty look for interrupting the singing babies yet again.
"Sorry about this, Master Yoda. Please continue," Muttering a hurried apology, Fox raced out of the meal hall.
“Sir, you messaged?”
When Fox rushed up to his floor, the Chancellor was stood in front of his desk, pale hands loose at his sides. The ever bustling backdrop of Coruscant glittered with a thousand lights behind him. Fox hesitated in the doorway when he caught sight of the people gathered in Palpatine's office. As if sensing his trepidation, Kenobi, who was perched gracefully on the large expensive sofa next to Senator Amidala, winked in greeting. Generals Skywalker and Fisto were sat on the opposite side, both dressed in modest brown robes of the Jedi Temple. Fox resolutely ignored Kit's subtle attempt to catch his attention. The Chancellor beckoned for him to come closer. He honestly wanted to turn in the other direction, take the elevator back down to the ground floor, and pretend he didn't see the message in the first place.
“My dear commander," The Chancellor began gravely. "As you are obviously aware, Fete Week is rapidly approaching. This year we have assembled a Festival Task Force.”
He gestured at the odd assortment of individuals as Fox grimaced behind the privacy of his helmet. A year ago around this time, he had been appointed the Head of the Coruscant Military Police. Six battalions had been on leave for Fete Week and the New Year celebrations. Needless to say, it had been a living hell. The ghosts of his healed stomach ulcers were starting to burn just thinking about it.
“Chancellor…” He began, pretty sure Palpatine could hear the weariness in his voice.
The old man held up a hand, “We cannot have a repeat of last year’s debacle, Fox. That is why the Jedi Council and Republic Senate agreed unanimously that you should oversee the planning task force.” He picked up a thin datapad from his desk and held it out to a stunned Fox, “High General Windu wrote a list of requirements that he addressed to, I quote, ‘the only adult in the room.’ I assumed he was referring to you, commander.”
Fisto bit his lip as Skywalker folded his arms over his chest with a sullen scowl. Obi-Wan took a delicate sip from his wine glass and said nothing. Fox glanced to Senator Amidala who smiled and said, “oh no, my dear. The position is all yours. I am still recovering from squeezing two live humans out of my other end.”
Obi-Wan choked on his drink at the unexpectedly blunt words. Skywalker crossed over to him and started thumping the man forcefully on the back as Padmé scooted aside to avoid the dark patch of wine soaking into Palpatine's pristine sofa.
“You will of course have full command of all GAR resources. Please do keep me informed on the progress,” The Chancellor sighed, rubbing at his temple as Senator Kenobi wheezed uncontrollably in the background. Palpatine did that a lot nowadays, massaging his head and sighing deeply.
“You’re our last hope, Commander Fox.”
Heart sinking, Fox took the datapad.