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It’s flooding season in Coruscant, and that means the Guard is busier than ever. If there was an explanation for why the very lowest levels of the city had to be flushed twice a year, Fox would love to hear it, because so far, all it seems to do is endanger people and waste his time.
In fact, Fox has long suspected that the true reason behind the flooding was to rid the planet of any ‘undesirables' that may have fled there in the intervening months. But thinking about that makes his jaw clench and his bones ache, so Fox tries not to.
The lower levels are far more vast than anyone seems to realize. It takes nearly every trooper the Guard has to sweep them in time, to make sure nothing living will be left to get caught in the floods. This isn’t part of their duties, for once, but they had all silently agreed to make the time regardless.
Seeing the aftermath of the first flood had been… harrowing.
Most of the area is already covered, so Fox is doing his final sweep before he races back up to the surface to avoid getting caught in the waters himself. Kamino had given him an appreciation for the ocean, but that didn't mean he was particularly a fan of drowning.
He pauses, though, when he catches something just barely within hearing range. Whispers, laughter—a sound that Fox has grown all too familiar with. It’s the sound of troopers making trouble.
Instantly, Fox stomps in that direction, a tirade ready on his tongue—his Guards should know better than to mess around during flooding season, it’s gotta be a couple of shinies who don’t realize how serious things get—but stops short, when he registers what he’s seeing.
It’s a couple of troopers in 501st blue, crowded together as they poke at a datapad in their hands. They’ve got that mischievous air around them that says they’re up to something.
Fox resists a groan. He can’t let them hang around here; the waters will start up any minute.
“What are you doing here?” Fox says sharply, and the two troopers jolt and spin around, guilt written in every line of their bodies.
They glance at each other, but one takes the plunge, stepping forward with his helmet tilted towards Fox mulishly.
“We’re just looking around. We’re on leave. Didn’t think we had to tell the Guard exactly where we were going.”
He crosses his arms over his chest, petulant, and Fox raises an eyebrow behind the safety of his bucket.
That’s a lot of audacity for a shiny on their first shore leave, especially when faced with a Marshall Commander. Clearly, they don’t know who he is.
Well, Fox isn’t about to ruin the illusion.
“This area is restricted,” he says instead. “No one is supposed to be down here.”
That makes them hesitate. Damn, they really have no idea what they’ve gotten into.
“We know that,” the first one blusters, nerves showing by the way he keeps shifting on his feet. “We have permission.”
Fox almost wants to laugh.
“Oh, really?” he drawls. “You’re 501st, right?”
They both straighten their backs, puff up their chests. Hah, it’s a bit cute, really. It’s been a long time since Fox had seen a trooper with bravado like this that wasn’t instantly beaten out of them by the nearest natborn.
“Fives,” the first one says proudly, before hooking his thumb to gesture to the vod behind him. “That’s Echo. We just joined the General’s squad.”
Echo winces at Fives’ proclamation, making Fox’s amusement rise. He clearly isn’t too happy about Fives giving so much about their identities away.
“Torrent, huh? Under Captain Rex?”
Fives wilts, just slightly. He clearly wasn’t expecting some ‘random corrie’ to have that much knowledge about their battalion.
“Uh…”
“You boys here on a mission?” Fox continues, swaggering forwards. He stops in front of them and lifts his wrist, gesturing towards the embedded communicator. “That’s strange. I should have gotten a notice about that. Why don’t we call Rex right now and sort this all out?”
Fives squeaks.
“No sir, there’s no need to do that!” Echo scrambles to cover for his vod’s mistake, putting his hands up in a gesture of surrender. “We were just leaving, honest!”
Oh, so now they call him ‘sir’. Figures.
“Yes, you were,” Fox says dryly. “And we need to move quickly. This place is restricted for a reason—”
And, of course, because Fox can never go a single day without lamenting the galaxy’s obvious grudge against him, that is the exact moment when he hears a low, ominous rumble.
“Aw, fuck,” he curses, and turns.
“Sir?!” Echo calls out, startled.
“Just follow me! Fast!”
Fox breaks out into a sprint, dodging over pieces of old debris and decaying structures as he makes his way to the exit. There’s a rickety old ladder that leads up to a manhole cover nearby, and that opens to a higher level. It still won’t be enough to get them completely clear, but it will buy them some more time as the levels quickly go underwater.
The whole setup is shitty and dangerous, and every time at least one person ends up needing to get a tetanus shot from a very unamused Nightingale, but it’s better than dying.
He can hear the sound of the two troopers running after him, and Fives calls out.
“Sir? What is that sound?”
He seemed panicked, and Fox can’t blame him—the rumbling of the waters crashing over the dead streets, ready to fill the whole level like a water balloon, fit to bursting, are a clear warning sign.
“Just keep moving!” Fox yells back. “I’ll explain later!”
He hears a muffled curse, but neither of them argue, and Fox reaches the ladder in record time. He leaps up, latching onto the fourth rung and pulling himself up as fast as possible, reaching the top just as he hears the other two troopers hit the ladder below him.
He manages to shove the manhole cover out of the way, but just as he’s about to pull himself through, he hears Echo say; “Holy shit!” and Fox looks down before he can help himself.
A great wave is looming in the distance, barreling through rows of concrete and steel, the floodwaters drowning the lower levels of Coruscant like something from an angry god.
Fox had nightmares about things like this on Kamino, when their diving lessons had gotten particularly hazardous, and this sight certainly did nothing to alleviate that fear.
“Get up here!” he snaps, pulling his gaze away from their impending doom, and he leaps up to the upper level, heart racing.
Echo is next in line, practically on Fox’s heels as he scrambles to reach safety, and Fives is right behind him.
But still, he’s almost too late.
Fives yelps, gauntlets scratching at the ground as the waters slam against his legs, almost knocking him right off the ladder. He slips, hands reaching out, and he begins to fall back into the water below.
Even with the helmet, he’ll drown within minutes. Fox knows. His troopers haven’t always been as prepared for the flooding as they are now.
“Fives!” Echo cries out, jolting forward to try and grab Fives’ hand, but he’s too far away—he won’t make it in time.
Luckily, Fox does.
He manages to grab Fives by the collar, latching on, sticking one arm around his back as he yanks the trooper upwards, ignoring the water now lapping at his heels.
Fives’ sputters, hands clutching Fox’s shoulders with an iron grip, but Fox doesn’t shrug him off. Hopefully the stations a couple of levels above are still on-duty; this kid needs a shock blanket, and Fox doesn’t mind giving up a portion of his supply.
“Come on, we’re okay for now, but we need to keep moving. You good to do some more running, trooper?”
“Yes,” Fives gasps, still trembling. “Yes sir.”
Echo slams into them a moment later, gathering Fives in his arms.
“We’re good to go, sir,” he says, voice wobbly. “Even if I have to carry this bastard the whole way.”
“Hey!” Fives protests, but he leans into Echo’s embrace, clearly taking comfort in the smothering affection.
Fox sighs, getting to his feet. They’re all nearly knee deep in water now, and it will only continue to rise. Slower, thankfully, than the initial flood, but still a concern.
“Let’s move, vode. We’re not clear yet. Ready to follow me?”
Fives laughs, shaky, helmet tilted in Fox’s direction.
“Sir? Right now, I think I’d follow you anywhere.”