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Thorn was worried about Fox. This was not a new state of being – in fact, Thorn suspected that he spent a great deal of his time being worried about Fox. One would think it should be the other way around, what with Fox being his superior officer; and it was true that Fox worried a great deal about Thorn and everyone else under his command, but that was why Thorn had to worry about him.
Fox projected an invincible image to the world, but no vod is all-powerful, especially on their own.
So Thorn watches, and he worries, and he wondered what he could do to make things just a bit easier for his vod.
Not that Fox provided many opportunities to do so. As the war went on, Fox seemed to be taking more and more duties onto himself, leaving early in the morning and arriving late at night, until he barely came to the bunkroom at all.
Thorn had tried to bring up his concerns, but Fox had ruthlessly shot him down.
“There’s been a lot of late-night meetings,” Fox had said gruffly. The bags under his eyes were only just beginning to form at that point, but were already staining his skin gray. “You know I don’t have a choice.”
And so Thorn had bit his tongue, because he did know that. They barely had a choice in anything – such was the lot of the clones.
But then it just kept happening. It wasn’t long before anytime Thorn saw Fox during the day, he was nearly always passed out in his chair, datapad in hand. Fox was never seen at night.
If this had been under any other circumstance, Thorn would have cracked a joke about what was keeping Fox so busy, but…
“Hey, Fox?” he said, jogging to catch up when Fox paused by the entrance of the barracks. “Can we talk?”
Fox regarded him with a blank, deadened gaze, and inclined his head.
“Let’s walk and talk,” he rasped out. “I have a meeting.”
“A meeting?” Thorn said, baffled. It was early enough in the cycle that the Senate dome would be almost entirely empty, other than the workers. That was the only reason Thorn was awake – it was almost time for his squad to relieve the night crew, as aids and Senators began to slowly trickle into the building. “With who?”
“Representatives from Taris,” Fox grunted. “They have a different day cycle than Coruscanti Standard, apparently. It’s still the middle of the day for them, as they have helpfully informed me.”
Thorn felt his mouth twitching into a smile at the dry tone, but his concern quickly overrode it, and he bit his lip.
“Why are you the one doing that?” he asked, squeezing his helmet between his hands as they continued walking. He had a bad feeling about this. “Not that I’m one to invite more work on myself, but that sort of thing is probably better suited for my team, yeah?”
Fox didn’t quite… pause, but his steps stuttered for just one moment. On any other trooper, Thorn wouldn’t have even caught it, but this wasn’t any other trooper.
“Fox?” he said, trying not to sound alarmed.
Fox grunted, waving a dismissive hand. “They asked for me specifically. It’s not a big deal, Thorn. I can handle it.”
Thorn eyed him carefully.
“It’s not that I think you can’t handle it,” Thorn said slowly. That was true enough – even with the way that Fox’s workload had begun to steadily escalate, Fox still kept on top of everything like an absolute pro. The problem was that he shouldn’t have to. “I’m just getting a bit concerned, vod. It might be a good idea to start delegating things more.”
Fox was silent, expression cold, and Thorn scrambled for something to justify himself.
“At least start with the stuff that keeps happening during your sleep cycle!” he said, trying not to stutter in his nervousness. “If you take everything away from the night crew, Silver will start thinking you’re holding a grudge against him, vod.”
Fox was quiet for a long moment, before he shook his head.
“This is something that I have to do myself, Thorn,” he claimed. “Sometimes, natborns can get… touchy. That isn’t a position I want to put any of the others in.”
“But it’s alright for you to be in that position?” Thorn countered, his frustration rising.
He loved Fox, damn it, of course he did. But it was starting to get real fucking annoying that his vod wouldn’t let anyone help him. Did he think they were all incapable?
Fox fixed him with a sour look, as if he could sense Thorn’s thoughts.
“Don’t start with that now. It’s not the same.”
“How?” Thorn challenged, and he stuck a hand out, preventing Fox from leaving the office area and escaping in the hustle and bustle of the early morning shift change. “How is it different for you, over any of the rest of us? Is Silver somehow less competent than you?”
That’s what living on Kamino had tried to teach them, anyway. Worth was determined by rank – a Private could be replaced easily, in ways that a Captain or Commander couldn’t. But as vod’e they’d all worked very hard to push back on that mindset, because tying your worth to your rank was an easy way to breed resentment among peers.
Fox knew that better than anyone – he had always told the Guard that each and every one of them had their own purpose and expertise, and none of them were cogs in a machine. One could not just substitute in for another, no matter how much the natborns seemed to assume so.
So why was he turning his back on them now?
“It matters because I’m used to this, Thorn,” Fox said quietly. His face was completely deadened, and the exhaustion clear in his expression would have caused Thorn pause if he wasn’t getting so worked up.
“Of course you are!” he exclaimed. “You never let anyone else have a chance to get used to it!”
Fox shook his head, pulling his bucket on. “Listen, I don’t have time for this – ”
“Fox, just be straight with me,” Thorn said, biting his lip. “Do you trust us?”
Fox twitched, and with his helmet on, Thorn couldn’t read his expression, but he knew that Fox must have been looking away, trying to avoid eye contact just like he always did when met with a confrontation he would rather avoid.
“I do,” he said, and it sounded honest enough. “Just not with this.”
Thorn stared at him for a long moment, and then stepped back, allowing Fox to pass by as he let out a bitter laugh.
“Go ahead, then,” Thorn said, clenching his fists so tightly his nails were digging into his skin. “Go be the big damn hero, I guess, if you can’t bear to share the glory.”
That was a cruel thing to say, and Thorn knew it even before he saw Fox flinch, but it was too late.
Fox walked out of the building, and Thorn turned back towards the barracks, stewing in a mix of anger and regret. He didn’t want to hurt Fox, but at this point, what other choice did he have? Fox wasn’t willing to listen to anything else.
Whatever. He had his own mission to prepare for, regardless.
He’d have to pick up this conversation with Fox when he returned.