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Sickly yellow eyes glowed in the darkness, and a wrinkly pale hand reached out for Fox. The mysterious figure cackled as its hand clenched into a fist. The Commander’s eyes widened as his throat constricted, air escaping him. Fox scratched at his neck as he was forced to his knees. No. no. no!
“You have failed me once again, CC-1010” The voice was scratchy and raw, unpleasant to the ear.
Fox gasped and tried shaking his head. He didn’t fail. There was no way he failed. Failure meant his men died. His men weren’t dead. They weren’t dead. They weren’t dead. They were all dead. He failed them.
The pressure on Fox’s neck released, and he took hurried gasps for oxygen. “No, no.” he stumbled over his words, looking up at the taunting figure. “I couldn’t have failed.”
“No?” The voice cackled, and the surrounding space slowly dimmed with light. “Then what is this?”
Fox froze as his brothers appeared before him. Each laying stiffly with injuries he could never imagine. One by one, Fox looked at them, freezing at the familiar customized armor of Sargeant Hound. The ARF’s trooper’s armor was splintered, and blood leaked from his helmet, which was split in two. Fox gulped, seeing Stone and Thire next. The two commanders were lying on their stomachs, arms crooked and bent in ways that weren’t physically possible.
The worst body was Thorn’s. His annoying vod-ika. Thorn’s neck was snapped, but Fox could tell that wasn’t the cause of death. No. The cause was the multitude of torture wounds. Thorn’s fingers were shattered, and his knees snapped back. Endless amounts of blood streamed down his face, encompassing wide-open eyes devoid of life.
Fox wanted to throw up.
He killed them all.
Fox felt something cold wrap around his neck, and he looked down. A snake was slithering around him. The red and black pattern was all too similar to the man who ruled him.
The man who owned him.
That man liked red; the Corries wore red because of him.
The Corries were stained in red because of him.
“Do you see now?” The figure,
Palpatine,
asked. “You failed, and because of that, you lost everything.”
“No.” Fox whimpered. Wake up, wake up, Wake up!
It’s just a dream; none of it is real. Hound is alive; he’s training new massiffs. Stone and Thire are working hard, carrying their weight. Thorn is off annoying someone, making people smile. Making him smile. He wouldn’t; he couldn’t accept this reality. He wasn’t a failure.
“Yes.” Palpatine raised his hand to his, fingers outstretched. “And now you must pay for your failure.”
Blue encompassed Fox’s visions, and his eyes widened. The pain was immeasurable, his skin was icy cold, yet his veins burned like lava. Fox barely registered the scream tearing from his throat. It was horrible.
He deserved it. Failures don’t deserve peace.
Fox jolted awake, his thin blanket falling on the ground. He couldn’t breathe. Fox held his throat as he tried to gasp for air. Fox's chest constricted, and a fire lit in his lungs. Oxygen he needed oxygen. Hands grabbed his shoulders, and Fox jerked back. No more, please, no more. He couldn’t take it anymore.
"Fox! You need to breathe." That voice was familiar. Why was it so familiar? "Fox, vod? Ori-vod. Please, you need to breathe before you pass out."
Thorn? But Thorn was dead. He saw his body! Fox burned; everything burned. Why was he dizzy? The hands cupped Fox's face and held him firmly. "Fox, open your eyes!"
His eyes were closed? Fox blinked open his eyes, meeting warm brown ones. Thorn. He was alive. It was just a dream. Fox tried taking a breath, but it got caught in his throat.
"Slowly, Fox, slow breaths." Thorn took Fox's hand and placed it against his chest. "Follow my breathing, vod."
Fox worked on matching his breathing to Thorn's. Every few seconds, his breath would stutter, but Thorn kept pulling him back. Just a dream. It was just a dream. He had to remember that. Fox took a deep breath, relishing in the sweet relief oxygen gave his lungs.
The door to the room opened, and Fox glanced behind Thorn, Stone, and Thire had entered. He didn’t need all of Coruscant seeing him like this! It could get back to the Chancellor; then, he'd be viewed as a failure.
"Fox, damn it, breathe." Thorn’s voice cut through his spiraling thoughts, and he nodded.
"I'm okay." Fox's voice was raspy as he looked into Thorn's eyes, "I'm okay, Thorn."
"Yeah, I'm inclined to not believe you right now." Thorn scoffed, "You were screaming in your sleep and woke up in a panic attack."
“I…” Fox glared at Thorn. He was fine. “It was just a dream.”
“That sounds more like a nightmare, Fox,” Stone spoke up, sitting down on the bed and shoving Thorn over. “You aren’t fine.”
“Stone–”
“No, Stone’s right.” Thire interrupted, “You don’t sleep, and when you do, you have nightmares.”
“We aren’t just your commanders, Fox. We are your brothers. We can help you,” Stone continued.
What? He didn’t need help. He was fine; it was just a dream. Why couldn’t they see that? Needing help suggested that there was something wrong with him, and there was nothing wrong with him. Fox slid his feet off the bed and shook his head.
“I don’t need help. Everything is fine. I’m fine.” Fox grumbled, standing up. “I can handle my own dreams.”
“But can you handle the aftermath, vod?” Thorn crossed his arms, “We don’t need you running yourself into the ground. Get some real sleep, uninterrupted sleep.”
“And how do you propose I do that?” Fox asked.
“We could get Tonic.”
“No.” Fox immediately shot down the idea. “There is no reasoned to get Tonic involved.”
“We need to come up with something,” Stone stated as Fox’s commlink began to chime.
“I have to go; Senate duty is in a couple of hours,” Fox mumbled. “Get back to your tasks,”
Fox grabbed his boots, quickly putting them back on before opening the door. The atmosphere was tense, and as Fox walked down the hall, all he could think about was seeing his vode dead and brutalized in his dream. He wouldn’t let that happen; he had to stay strong.