Chapter Text
Commander Fox walked into the greasy, noisy diner, cautiously scanning the room -- but only a being with an eye of keen perception would have known it was the Marshall Commander of the Courscant Guard. Absent were the distinctive red and white of Corrie Guard armor. All that passers-by noticed (if they cared to try at all) was a human male in a hooded bantha-leather jacket (reeking of deathsticks), a faded blue tunic and even more faded grey work pants held in place by straps over the shoulders. Hidden within the hood was an unruly rust-tipped mop and a couple days of unshaven facial growth shot through with a matching auburn hue. A marked departure from the clone’s usually dark hair just beginning to reveal streaks of premature gray at the temples.
Fox spotted the object of his search in a shrouded corner of the establishment. The grizzled old Tholothian was adding a few generous drops of his own personal flavoring to a steaming mug of caf. Ahbel Gai always carried an emergency stash of Corelian whiskey to liven up any given beverage.
Sliding into the booth across from Ahbel, Fox nodded to the flask “Isn’t it a bit early for that stuff?”
“Eh, just a bit of O’spine of the massif,” the old Tholothian explained as he passed a second mug of hot caf to the commander.
“That’s an awfully big spine” he replied with an incredulous lift of his eyebrow.
“It was a big massif. Care for a drop?” Ahbel held the flask out to Fox.
“Not during working hours, old man, you know that.” Fox took a long drink from his mug – after giving it a good sniff to make sure the ornery old woodworker hadn’t slipped him “a bit O’spine” anyway.
“Humph,” scoffed Ahbel with a chuckle that sent his pale head-tendrils swaying. “Are you ever not on working hours?”
“Not really, so lets get down to business. What do you have for me, Gai?” he took another draught from his mug. It was strong. Almost unbearably hot. Bitter. The perfect cup of caf.
“See, that’s the trouble with you,” Ahbel slipped the flask back into his jacket. “All business – no play. Loosen up a little. A friendly amount of small talk isn’t going to kill you. No wonder you’re already turning gray under that dye job.”
“It’s the stress from dealing with aggravating citizens,” Fox returned with a pointed look.
The Tholothian huffed. “Well, then maybe you deserve a long over-due holiday.” He snapped his fingers at a sudden thought. “You should come by the Palace. I’m playing a gig there tomorrow tonight. Give yourself a chance to relax a little.”
“The Cerulean Palace? No, thanks! All due respect to your skills with the Tholothian fiddle, but an evening surrounded by that crowd is far from what I would call relaxing.” Fox frowned into his caf.
Ahbel scratched at the scales on his head. “I will grant you that it can get a little rowdy in the later hours, but it’s not so bad earlier in the evening.”
“A little rowdy?” Fox snorted. “Once her midnight patrons hit, the Cerulean Palace makes 79’s look like a jedi meditation retreat. Besides, half of those patrons my men and I have probably personally booked into a jail cell at some point.”
“I’ve been to 79’s. Somehow I doubt the little, ancient, pointy-eared, green gremlin who runs the order would ever find that clone bar a suitable place for contemplative reflection,” Ahbel Gai laughed, making his tendrils dance. “But you make a fair point, I suppose. Still, you really should take some time for yourself once and a while.”
“Now that sounds like something Cilya would say” Fox finished his mug and set it down, the shadow of a fond smile ghosting across his face.
“Well, she’s a smart girl, my daughter.”
“That she is.” And the first nat-born I ever met I could call a decent being. “That reminds me.” Fox reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out a silver pouch with the GAR medical symbol emblazoned in red on the label. “I brought these for Cilya.” He slid the package across the table.
The woodworker’s callused hands reached for the vitamin pack. “I – thank you, son. Can’t tell you how much we appreciate these. Cilya just wasn’t meant for this filthy lower city atmosphere. But these do help. Strong stuff they give you boys.” Gratitude glistened in the corner of his eye.
Fox gave the old man a slight nod and averted his gaze. “They’re one of the few things the Grand Army of the Republic actually keeps us well stocked in. We can afford to unofficially reallocate a few vita-packs.”
What she really needs is to get off this cursed planet and back to the clear air of Tholoth.
Ahbel drained his caf mug. “That’s seems a bit ironic considering the whole reason we’re meeting here is to help you and the Guard figure out who has been unofficially reallocating GAR supplies.”
“GAR munitions,” The Marshall Commander corrected. “A few missing vitamins aren’t going to hurt anyone – but those guns in the wrong hands could get citizens or my men killed.”
“Too right. Which brings us back to the business at hand.”
“Finally. I was beginning to think I’d die of accelerated age before we got thorough all this small talk.”
Smirking, the Tholothian pulled a data disk from inside his jacket and handed it to Fox.
He inspected it before slipping it into his own pocket. “So what’s on this thing?”
“Chatter is something’s going down in the Ch’dhli district soon.”
“One level below on 1316.” Fox rested his chin on one fist contemplating the new information.
“Pulled what I could from the holonet about a special market popping up in the area sometime during the next several days.”
Fox grip tightened on his caf mug. “Where they plan to auction off the weapons to the highest bidder.”
Ahbel tugged at his fiery red beard. “That would be my guess. Everything I found is on that disk. Figured you fellows might be able to dig around and uncover more precise information.”
That sounded like a job for Bits. He needed a new project to keep him out of trouble anyway. Last week he’d had too much time on his hands and decided to hack into the Coruscant rail system. The result was a looped message in the passenger car displays cheering on his favorite Bolo-ball team – with a rather crude addendum insulting a rival team they would be facing off with that evening.
The Mirialan waitress wandered up to their table, “Care for another round of caf?” Her friendly smile shifted the intricate facial tattoos on her olive green face.
“Yes, please! Don’t mind if I do!” The Tholothian held out his mug for her to pour another steaming serving of the liquid.
She turned her bright violet eyes to Fox, “And how about you, handsome?”
“I’ll take one for the road if you don’t mind, please.”
“Will do. One caf to go, coming right up.” She headed back to the kitchens, winding her way through tables and attending to other customers as she went.
Fox turned back to Ahbel . “How is Cilya doing?”
“She’s doing alright. Felt well enough today to go volunteer at youth outreach center again today. She really enjoys the work. Cilya’s made a friend with their newest volunteer -- that pretty young senator from Pantora.”
“Chuchi? She’s been down here doing work at the center?”
“Aye – and not just a fly-by for PR either. Comes regular and really gets into the work way Cilya tells it. Fine young lady. Stops by after to visit with Cilya more often than not.” With a wistful glint in his eye, he added, “If I were few a few decades younger –” he let the thought trail off with the steam from his caf.
Fox shook his head. “Only a few decades?” He raised one eyebrow and looked at the old man.
Ahbel sat back in his booth chuckling “Point taken. I just –” he sat up with a grin on his face, “Well, what do you know? There she is herself.”
Following his gaze to the door of the establishment, Fox was surprised to see the small Pantoran Senator walk in and head straight for their table. Riyo Chuchi slid in next to Gai with a warm smile that made the markings on her cheeks stand out against the sky blue of her skin. Her attire was more casual than her typical senatorial dress, she wore a dark blue tunic with golden embroidery at the collar and wrists. Pantoran clover blossoms Fox thought. Her loose fitting pants were a shade lighter than her skin. Chuchi was like a patch of sky come to life.
“This is a welcome sight. Is Cilya with you?” Ahbel looked back the way she had come, searching for his daughter.
“No, she was feeling rather tired after we were done at the center.” A slight shake of her head caused the golden headdress in her lavender hair to tinkle like little chimes. “I made sure she got home alright. She asked me to come by the diner and let you know. Also to tell you that the customs office called and said the perlote wood you ordered from Naboo finally cleared quarantine and is ready for you to pick it up.”
“Well, that’s good news at least. I have some anxious customers waiting for me to fill orders with some of that perlote. And thank you for looking after my Cilya. I was just telling this gentleman here what a good friend you’ve been to her.” He gestured to Fox who was still shrouded in his hood.
She dipped her head and extended a hand in greeting. Fox hesitated for a moment and then took her hand in his. It was delicate yet firm. She exuded a warm and genuine aura that was disarming. Just before he released her hand, she probed his face with her luminous golden eyes. Suddenly those eyes went wide.
“Commander Fox?”
He quickly withdrew his hand and pulled the hood more firmly in place.
“Kriff! Girl!” exclaimed Ahbel in a hushed tone, “Don’t announce it to the whole diner!”
Embarrassed, Chuchi appeared to realize her misktake. A distinct shade of indigo quickly spread on her face. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t –”
At that moment Fox’ Caf order arrived. It was time to go.
Standing, he nodded towards the two still seated, “Ahbel. Senator. Good day to you, both,” and swiftly exited the building.
Safely out of sight of the diner, Fox stopped – clutching his caf in hand like a talisman. He wasn’t particularly worried that anyone had actually overheard the Senator in the busy diner. What shook him was that she had recognized him. Somehow under this disguise she had looked and seen him.
He hadn’t thought their few passing interactions would have left so indelible a memory.
Also, try as he might, Commander Fox could not ignore a certain lingering warmth in his palm he feared had nothing to do with his caf.