Chapter Text
The Chancellor’s office was always cold.
It shouldn’t be. The whole Senate building was climate controlled and the Chancellor’s office the most carefully kept and luxuriously appointed of them all. Yet, every time Fox attended the Chancellor there, he felt he should activate the heaters in his armour, something he had no need for in any other place on Coruscant. The man had to feel it too, considering the thick Nabooian robes he favoured.
“Commander, you’re going to escort Senator Chuchi to Orto Plutonia in the Outer Rim, while she, as the Senate representative, supervises the investigation into a GAR outpost which went silent.”
There were so many things wrong with the order he was just given that Fox didn’t know which one to protest first.
For a start, he had no time to go gallivanting in the Outer Rim. It would take seven days just to get there, nevermind however long the investigation itself would require. Fox didn’t have so much time to spare. Fox didn’t have an hour to spare as it was. The thought of being absent from his post for weeks on end made him recoil in horror at the amount of work which would be waiting on his desk when he came back.
The same thought made his stomach turn in very real fear for a different reason too, but he squished it before it could fully realise.
It was unwise to allow yourself to be afraid in the Chancellor’s presence.
But it was the Supreme Chancellor of the Republic who gave him that order, it also wouldn’t do to tell him that he was out of his kriffing mind.
“Is that truly necessary, Your Excellency?” he asked politely instead. “I’ve heard that the investigation is going to be conducted by Generals Kenobi and Skywalker, accompanied by a platoon from the 501st. Surely that should be sufficient to ensure Senator Chuchi’s safety.”
Not that Fox understood why the Chancellor was suddenly so concerned about the safety of a junior senator from an insignificant moon in the Outer Rim. For all his show of grandfatherly care he usually barely gave a damn about much more prominent figures among the natborns than she would ever have a chance to become. He never felt the need to uphold his persona in front of Fox – after all, it wasn’t as if a mere clone was entitled to an opinion and definitely not likely or allowed to go babbling to people who were. Fox was property of the Republic, specifically created to serve it, and the Chancellor was the Republic personified. Working on cultivating Fox’s loyalty would be a waste of time since it was unquestionable anyway, and Chancellor Palpatine was not a man to waste time. Fox told himself that he appreciated the trust implicit in it.
Even if it would have been nice to be treated as if his loyalty was worth being earned – or repaid with a sliver of care.
He had no illusions that it was, however. He might be the highest ranking clone on Coruscant – one of the highest ranking clones in the whole GAR – and the most decorated one, but in the end he was still perfectly replaceable and treated as such. There were three million clones, all supposedly as capable and trained as him, identical in every feature. He was one of the command batch, true, but they were also numerous enough to offer a replacement for him if the need arose. Fox liked to think that whoever it was going to be one day when his luck ran out, the poor bugger would find it initially difficult to step into his shoes. Running the Coruscant Guard was a very special kettle of fish, requiring a different and delicate approach and a very unique skill set. He was not foolish or arrogant enough though to imagine that the Chancellor wouldn’t replace him in a hot minute if he found his performance in any way unsatisfactory or lacking, for all his pristine record. The Chancellor hinted at it often enough. And Fox was painfully aware that the underperforming clones were not retired to a nice farm. There might be some slack in the field, where the casualties were too heavy to get rid of any soldier unless he really negatively impacted the war effort, but here, on Coruscant, you were either perfect or you died. There was no middle ground.
And sometimes, if your luck was bad enough, you died even if you did nothing wrong.
Which was why the current discussion required the utmost care. Disagreeing with the Chancellor tended to be deadly. How any of the senators or the Jedi could be fooled enough to buy into his gentle act was utterly beyond Fox’s comprehension. The man was vicious and ruthless, and maybe he had to be to successfully lead the Republic immersed in a war – Fox was no idealist and he understood that ruthlessness had its practical uses in a leader – but it didn’t mean he was not aware of the necessity to be careful.
Which, judging by the Chancellor’s unhappy grimace, he was currently failing at.
“The Generals will be busy enough with their own tasks,” he snapped impatiently. “Potentially including fighting whoever is responsible for the fate of our troops. Your orders will be different.”
“Then surely Lieutenant Thire would be a more suitable choice?” ventured Fox cautiously. “He is the one who is usually sent on diplomatic escort duties. He was accompanying General Yoda recently and earned a commendation for that mission. Or, if a commander is required, what about Commander Thorn?”
Thire was still recovering from the injury he had suffered during that mission, but with the journey to Orto Plutonia taking a week, he should be alright before they landed. Truthfully, sending him there would probably give him a better chance to rest and recover than he could ever hope for here. As for Thorn, Fox would hate to lose him for possibly weeks – Maker knew they were understaffed and stretched thin as it was! – but anything was better than for Fox to be out of the picture for all that time. He would be so much behind on his duties his backlog would have a backlog. As tempting as getting away from the overcrowded, polluted, life-scuking Coruscant might be, Fox did not have the time for this .
And there was no kriffing way he was going to abandon his brothers and leave them without his protection, inadequate as it was.
The Chancellor’s eyes flashed dangerously and Fox knew he crossed the line, for all his caution.
“Are you questioning orders, commander?”
Fox, not fooled in the slightest by the silky tone of the question, stood straighter to attention.
“Never, sir,” he answered firmly. “Just trying to assess the best way to fulfil the parameters of the mission. If you consider me the best man to go to Orto Plutonia, I will go without question.”
The Chancellor kept his penetrating stare on him for another long moment – a stare which somehow seemed to penetrate through the visor of Fox’s helmet straight into his eyes, impossible as it was – but then crossed his arms and walked towards the glass wall overlooking the busy traffic of Coruscant with an impatient huff.
“What I’m going to tell you now, commander, is for your ears only and will not leave this room,” he said tersely. “I understand your doubts, impertinent as they are. Neither Pantora nor Orto Plutonia are significant in their own right, and normally would never warrant such attention from me or as high profile officer as you assigned to any of its concerns. But you see, there are circumstances – top secret circumstances – which warrant this attention this time.”
Fox nodded, his curiosity piqued.
“The idea of a GAR outpost on Orto Plutonia originated with the Chairman of Pantora who requested it,” the Chancellor went on, his mouth twisted with obvious distaste. “Demanded it, more like. That man is arrogant and entitled beyond anything his tiny moon ever warranted. Cares much more for what the Republic could – ought to, in his opinion – give him than what he and his people can sacrifice for the Republic. Whose way of thinking does it remind you of, commander?”
“The Separatists,” answered Fox immediately. It wasn’t a difficult question.
“The Separatists,” agreed the Chancellor. “Exactly.”
Fox frowned thoughtfully under his bucket.
“Do you have a reason to suspect that Chairman Cho was somehow responsible for the attack on our troops?” he asked. “Possibly in collusion with separatists?”
“No,” answered Palpatine and turned away from the window to look at Fox, “at least not in collusion with them. Here we come to the top secret part of the information I’m giving you. There was a separatist garrison on Orto Plutonia – a secret one, surveillance only – and our intelligence informs me that it went silent as well.”
“So either our troops and the separatists mutually destroyed each other, with no message to their superiors, or there was an unknown third party,” surmised Fox, still puzzled about what was it about the situation that demanded his involvement specifically.
“Exactly,” said the Chancellor again. “And it is that mysterious hypothetical third party which concerns me the most. Specifically, whether the Chairman of Pantora isn’t behind it.”
Fox’s frown deepened.
“What would be his motive, sir?” he asked. “Why would he demand the GAR outpost there only to attack it?”
The Chancellor shrugged.
“If it was just our outpost, I would think that he wanted to make a grand gesture to announce his allegiance to the Separatists,” he said matter-of-factly. “But since the Separatists’ garrison was attacked as well, it seems unlikely. Maybe he wanted to show his independence though. I told you, this man is arrogant and entitled beyond belief. He might decide to follow Mandalore’s example in seceding from the Republic and making Pantora neutral.”
“And if he does, why should we care?” ventured Fox, earning himself a glare. “You said that they are not significant to the Republic, sir.”
“I said that there are special circumstances, didn’t I?” snapped the Chancellor. “And here we come to the reason why it must be you who will go.”
He stalked to the console table and pulled up a 3D map of Orto Plutonia.
“Orto Plutonia is uninhibited and has remained so for hundreds of years,” he explained. “But it hadn’t always been so. There was a civilisation there once – before the Pantorans colonised their moon.”
He zoomed in on a mountain range near the planet’s equator.
“The original settlers were nomads who stayed there for several decades before either dying off or moving somewhere else – we don’t know which. What’s important though, our intelligence suggests that they left a legacy behind. A very important legacy.”
With a click of a button, the map was replaced by a hologram of an intricate holocron.
“They researched the Force, commander. Specifically, a way of defending themselves against Force users.”
Fox immediately grasped the implications. They were obvious, really.
“You think that there is a weapon which can be used against our generals if it falls into the separatists' hands,” he observed. “Or which we can use against Count Dooku and his acolytes if we are the ones to acquire it.”
The glint in the Chancellor’s eyes was positively avaricious.
“It may win us this war,” he said.
Fox didn’t disagree, although he thought that the risk of the weapon making them lose the war was bigger. It wasn’t the Separatists who had their army run nearly uniformly by Force users. Eliminating Dooku, Ventress and whoever else the old bastard was grooming in the shadows would not be enough to get rid of the Separatists.
Eliminating the Jedi though…
But it begged a question.
“Why not have the Jedi search for it?” he couldn’t resist asking. “There can’t be anyone more motivated or skilled for it than them.”
The Chancellor clucked his tongue.
“It is true,” he admitted, his eyes boring into Fox’s visor again. “But tell me this, commander – can we trust them to bring such a device to us instead of destroying it or hiding it in their archives, never to be seen again?”
Fox didn’t startle – he was too well trained for it – but it was a close thing.
“Why wouldn’t we?” he asked, making sure his voice stayed impassive and didn’t betray his incredulity. “The Jedi are running the GAR. If they can’t be trusted, why keep them in such a position?”
The Chancellor smiled wryly.
“Because we currently don’t have a choice,” he answered bluntly. “The clone officers are certainly capable enough to run the war, but their numbers are insufficient against the enemy. We can order more from Kamino, but growing and training them takes time, even if they are sent into battle younger. The Jedi generals do make a difference in the field with their special abilities, as I’m sure you know. But as for trusting them…” he shook his head. “They claim to be loyal to the Republic and to the Senate – but whether they should be believed on this…”
He let it hang in the air for a moment.
“So you see, it’s not a task I can risk giving to the Jedi, even ones as admired as General Kenobi or General Skywalker. Neither would I feel comfortable asking one of the clone soldiers under their command. I know the bonds of the war, commander. If it came to the choice between a politician from a capital far, far away and a beloved general…”
“Surely no clone would go against you, sir,” interrupted Fox hotly. “We’re made to serve the Republic. We will follow Jedi, since they are leading the GAR, but this is in understanding that they are also serving the Republic, not themselves. If that was in question, none of us would betray you, sir. We’re not traitors and would never follow them.”
He meant it. He might hate the wrinkled old bastard. He might fear him and his power over him and his brothers. He might, in his most desperate moments, visualise throwing him through the glass wall of his office and waving him goodbye as he was falling to his death. All that was true. But if there was anything the clones were taught, it was loyalty to the Republic. As long as Palpatine was the Republic’s Supreme Chancellor, there was no question who they would obey and follow in case of any threat to him, whether external or internal.
The Chancellor’s smile widened.
“Your loyalty is commendable, commander,” he purred. “And unquestionable. This is why it is you, personally, who must perform this task for me. I admire your belief in your fellow clones, but unlike them, you are not under command of a Jedi, you’re under mine. I place my full trust in you,” the Chancellor’s gaze sharpened. “Don’t disappoint me.”
“Never, sir,” Fox swore.
He resigned himself to the realisation that there was no way he was going to get out of this – not when the Chancellor put the matter like this. If he got it into his wrinkled head that he could not trust neither the Jedi nor the clones from the front units on this matter, nothing Fox was going to say would convince him otherwise. Besides, he couldn’t say he wasn’t flattered by the Chancellor’s trust in him .
Even if he dreaded the mess he would be dealing with after being absent from Coruscant for all this time.
The Chancellor nodded, clearly satisfied that Fox ceased protesting his assignment.
“Chairman Cho will have his own security detail,” he explained. “He’s not going to accept any other, even if he feels entitled enough to order the Republic’s troops around. But Senator Chuchi is going to Orto Plutonia as the Senate’s representative, not as a Pantoran, and as such is owed the usual protection for senators sent on diplomatic missions. That I assigned you specifically to lead her security may raise a few eyebrows but I’m going to say that it’s a sign of my respect for Pantora and its people – and I trust you to appease any curious enquiries if they come your way, either from outsiders or from your own men,” his sharp look at Fox demanded an answer, which he promptly gave.
“It won’t be a problem, sir. It is known that the Guard is short staffed, I will simply say that neither Lieutenant Thire nor Commander Thorn were available.”
Thire and Thorn themselves would not buy it, of course, but Fox wasn’t stupid enough to air his relationship with his brothers in front of the Chancellor. The less he knew about internal working of the Corries, the better.
The Chancellor nodded, appeased, and continued.
“While you’re there, your task is to retrieve the weapon as discreetly as possible while making sure nobody suspects that you’re doing anything else than protecting the senator at all cost. If the official task interferes with your true one, disregard it, just make sure not to be caught or raise the slightest suspicion – especially from the Jedi. Senator Chuchi is not important here, but the fact that nobody learns of the existence of this weapon is vital. Its retrieval and safe delivery to me personally might be the most important role you will play in this war, Commander, and I want you to keep it in mind at all times.”
“Yes, sir,” answered Fox, his mind already busily sifting through possible scenarios and challenges he was likely to encounter. Starting with the fact that searching in secret for a hidden weapon while appearing to guard a senator at whose side he should constantly remain was mutually exclusive. “How many men am I allowed to take with me?”
If he had a proper team with him, he could always sneak away while he was supposedly resting…
“None,” answered the Chancellor curtly. “Didn’t I tell you that your mission should remain secret from your own men as well?”
Fox boggled at him, grateful for his helmet.
“But sir,” he dared to protest, “this would raise suspicions. Me as the only guard? If it was an escort for an evening it could possibly work, but not on a mission where the journey itself will last for many days.”
“I was told the clones don’t need as much sleep as normal humans,” complained the Chancellor peevishly. Fox reminded himself that showing his exasperation would be a very unwise thing to do.
“Not for weeks on end,” he answered in an even voice. “Five days is usually the limit, although the individual endurance varies.”
He knew. His personal record was eleven days, but it was not a fact he wanted to advertise. Too big a risk of having it used against him.
He was sleep deprived on a usual basis as it was.
“Oh, very well,” the Chancellor acquiesced with a bad grace. “What is the minimum number you can take? One?”
“Two,” answered Fox firmly. “This way the senator would have two men to guard her at all times, with one sleeping off his shift.”
“One,” repeated the Chancellor stubbornly. “Senator Chuchi’s safety is not the priority here and, as you pointed out, there will be other clones and the Jedi generals looking out for her. You’re allowed to take one man to cover for the times when you must sleep or when you separate from the others to focus on your real task.”
Fox restrained his sigh of frustration before it could reach his vocoder. He hated micromanagement from politicians who had no idea what his job actually entailed. Even if the politician in question was the Supreme Chancellor of the Republic.
“One,” he agreed since he had no other choice. “I will make it work, sir.”
“I trust that you will, Commander,” the Chancellor’s voice was silky again, but the threat under it was undeniable. “ Do not disappoint me.”
Fox was clearly dismissed, but he hesitated to leave. It was a risk to demand more of the Chancellor’s precious time than the man was willing to spend on Fox, but this was about his brothers’ lives.
If there ever was a cause worth the risk of the Chancellor’s displeasure, it was this one.
And, judging from his eyebrows, he was definitely displeased.
“What is it, commander?” he asked, impatience clear in his voice.
“Excuse me, Excellency, but if you have a moment, I’d like to raise a matter of several decommissioning requests I’ve received,” said Fox, standing at a perfect parade rest, his arms behind him and his tone even and factual. Palpatine waved at him to proceed, his expression bored. Fox told himself to take the fact that he wasn’t thrown out of the office or punished for speaking out of turn as a good sign. “Senator Taino requested a squad of troopers to accompany him on Senate business on level 14. His request was granted. As it turned out, his business was a visit to a brothel there.”
Palpatine’s eyebrows went up.
“Maybe he was using it as a ruse, Commander,” he suggested. “It might have been a meeting demanding discretion.”
“Of course, sir,” Fox agreed, his bland tone and his bucket thankfully hiding his eyeroll at the probability of that . If it was, the specs ops should hire one of the prostitutes Taino was partying with. Their devotion to duty and undercover skills shouldn’t go to waste. Taino’s too, come to think of it. “However, the helmet cams suggest it was unlikely. The senator spent several hours at one of the establishment’s main rooms, serviced by five separate employees,” Fox hoped they were employees and not slaves, but he had his doubts on that score too. The CSF claimed that their paperwork checked out and, seeing as organised crime wasn’t exactly in Fox’s purview unless the safety of the Republic’s institutions and officials was affected, his hands were tied regarding any deeper investigation into it. Unless he ran it on the basis of possible Separatist spies trying to trick sensitive information out of Senator Taino… in his non-existent spare time.
Which, come to think of it, might be worth losing his last remaining hours of sleep.
The Chancellor’s eyebrows went even higher.
“Helmet cams?” he asked, his feigned incredulity nearly hiding his eagerness. Blackmail fodder was blackmail fodder after all. “Wasn’t Senator Taino aware that the Guard is equipped with them?”
“I don’t think he was,” answered Fox carefully. They were on thin ice here. Recording a senator’s private business without his consent or knowledge was in itself suicidal, never mind that it was a standard procedure. “He received the usual reminder of the Guard protocol when he requested our escort – as he had been on all previous occasions – but judging from his later reaction, I suspect he didn’t read any of them.”
“Ah yes, his reaction,” said Palpatine in a bored tone, heavily implying that any drama caused by Senator Taino was much less interesting to him than the existence of actual footage of his vices. “Remind me, what prompted his decommissioning request for your troopers?”
Fox made sure neither his posture nor his voice expressed the rage burning within every cell of his body. If he wanted any chance of getting mercy for his brothers, he needed to remain calm and composed. Professional. Rational. Perfect. Not demanding anything of the Chancellor of the Republic, stars forbid – simply making a reasonable and practical request.
“While he was leaving the brothel, his wife was waiting outside. My troopers stopped her from inflicting bodily harm upon the Senator, but she demanded that they act as witnesses in the divorce proceedings which she announced to plan starting against him. Both she and the Senator were informed that it would be impossible – anything the guards witness while on protection duty is confidential unless its pertaining to the official’s safety, and any recording kept only for the purposes of threat or incident evaluation – but Senator Taino filled the requests for decommissioning of all troopers on his protection duty that day.”
“On what basis?” asked the Chancellor, his attention straying to the traffic outside the glass wall of his office. But he was listening, Fox told himself desperately, he was still letting Fox talk.
“Insubordination, sir,” he said, allowing himself to tighten his hands into fists. They were behind his back, the Chancellor wouldn’t know. “He claims they were disrespectful towards him, but doesn’t cite any specific behaviour which he found objectionable.”
There wasn’t anything to cite, Fox made sure of that. He watched all the bucket cam footage – all five hours of it, from every member of the squad. Twenty five hours of his time wasted on watching some of the most disgusting porn he’d ever had the misfortune to see – but neither of his brothers stepped a toe out of line during any of it. They did nothing wrong, absolutely fucking nothing.
But if Fox didn’t manage to successfully appeal to the Chancellor, they were still going to die for it. For nothing.
The Chancellor sighed and Fox’s blood ran cold.
“It’s regrettable, of course, but I think it’s hardly a matter worth making a fuss over, commander. Senator Taino’s behaviour is sadly not becoming of his position, but he is a valuable member of the Senate and some allowances have to be made. If he felt strongly enough about the incident to submit all those requests, it’s probably best to grant them this time.”
“Sir,” said Fox, somehow getting the words through his suddenly tight throat. “The Coruscant Guard is short staffed as it is. Losing five experienced troopers is going to negatively impact our resources and efficiency.”
Palpatine waved his hand dismissively.
“I’ll make sure to approve a request for assigning more troops from the next shipment off Kamino when you place it, commander. And as for the Guard’s efficiency, I know you are not going to disappoint me by allowing it to fall.”
For a moment, when the light from a passing speeder hit the Chancellor’s face, Fox thought his eyes flashed sickly yellow. It passed before he blinked, but whatever tricks his own tired eyes were playing on him, there was no mistaking the malice plain in Palpatine’s – nor the clear threat.
“No, sir,” said Fox, standing to attention. “Of course not.”
***
“It’s taking inexcusably long!” the Chairman of Pantora complained forcefully, glaring at Riyo as he paced around her office. “The outpost went radio silent days ago – Pantora could be invaded before the investigation even starts!”
Riyo’s eyes followed him tiredly from her seat behind her desk. Maybe it was disrespectful to sit in the Chairman’s presence while he remained standing – it probably was – but after hours in his company, most of it spent being berated for things which were blatantly not her fault, she found she didn’t care much. Let him berate her for an actual offence.
She really should keep her mouth shut – the Chairman was not a man who liked or reacted well to being contradicted – but she couldn’t stop herself from pointing out the obvious fault in his logic.
“We would have already been on Orto Plutonia or very near it if you called me to request assistance from the GAR instead of coming to Coruscant in person. Your journey here necessarily delayed the actual response to the crisis.”
She was right in her initial assessment that it would have been wiser to remain silent; the Chairman turned furiously towards her and strode to loom threateningly over her and her desk, his long hands splayed on its surface. For the umteenth time in her life Riyo longed to be taller. Maybe then men like Chairman Cho wouldn’t feel so tempted to attempt to intimidate her with their height.
“If I had a competent senator here, I might have,” he spit viciously, glaring at her the whole time. “But I could not trust you neither to grasp the urgency nor to be forceful enough to act and make the Senate act; not when you could dither and waste the precious time on searching for some idealistic solution which doesn’t exist!”
Riyo winced, the injustice of the charge stinging her more than she was willing to acknowledge. She understood the urgency of the situation on Orto Plutonia and its inherent threat to Pantora perfectly well, and she would have acted accordingly if given a chance to do her job. There was no point in debating the solutions when one didn’t know what the problem was; sending troops to investigate the matter was a logical first step and exactly what she would have both proposed and worked to arrange herself if she was asked instead of being pushed out of the way by the unexpectedly arrived chairman. She might be new in this position – barely three months in – but she was competent, well educated and in truth overly prepared for the job. She didn’t yet have the time to make a name for herself in the Senate, but she did speak up during debates concerning the matters dear to her and she made a tentative alliance with several prominent senators. She felt confident enough that her request for the investigation of Orto Plutonia’s garrison would have been granted, maybe even faster than the Chairman’s blustering demands were.
Not that he would ever agree with it.
It was impossible to deny that Chairman Cho neither liked nor respected Riyo and it galled her how pathetic it made her feel that she wanted his approval. But it was impossible to deny either. Riyo had always been the favourite pupil and a star student of all her teachers and mentors, from her first days in kindergarten to her internships during and after university. She was bright, fiercely intelligent, thoughtful, polite and always, always prepared. But none of that endeared her to the Chairman who valued a different set of qualities in his public servants and vehemently opposed her candidature for the senator of Pantora when one of Riyo’s professor, a vice-chair of the Assembly, first proposed it. Unfortunately for the Chairman, it was the Assembly whose vote elected a senator, and its members were more convinced by Professor Tatarack’s glowing recommendation and Riyo’s presentation of her goals and policies than Chairman Cho’s blunt disbelief in her competency and abilities.
“Chairman Cho believes in intimidation as his main political tactic, whether in internal or foreign policy,” said Professor Tatarack when he was discussing her candidacy with Riyo . “He feels strongly that a more diplomatic approach is making Pantora look weak and damaging its honour and pride. The current senator, one which Cho backed in the Assembly, wholly agrees. Whether this tactic was at all advantageous to Pantora when it came to mustering support for our interests in the Senate is a wholly different question. He found it rather hard to gain allies.”
“And Pantora is just a small moon in the Outer Rim,” answered Riyo thoughtfully. “The core worlds are not likely to care about our concerns.”
“Exactly,” agreed the professor. “And no amount of yelling and chest beating on the Senate floor is going to change it. No, the power of a senator from a place like Pantora lies somewhere else – in the ability to compromise and make alliances which will buy enough support for our concerns to be heard at all.”
After her internship on the previous senator’s staff and even more after three months on Coruscant as his replacement, Riyo’s conviction that her professor was right only strengthened. Nobody here cared about Pantora in the normal course of things and now, with the war, even those who would listen out of politeness had much bigger fish to fry. Chairman Cho realised that too but stubbornly insisted that the only way to break through that indifference of the more powerful was to demand attention and services of them as loudly as possible, in the full belief that Pantora was entitled to it. Anything else would be snivelling and unpatriotic and that was how he saw Riyo, no matter how hard she tried to show him that she was competent enough for the job.
If only it didn’t rankle so that the Chairman of her country thought so little of her!
She suppressed a sigh.
“The Chancellor promised us that the investigation on Orto Plutonia would be conducted by not one, but two Jedi generals, accompanied by a whole platoon,” she said patiently instead. “And not just any Jedi – Generals Kenobi and Skywalker are one of the best and most famous in the Republic. And we will depart first thing in the morning, in the fastest cruiser.”
“No thanks to you,” said the Chairman, still leaning menacingly over her desk when Riyo’s office’s door opened to reveal a clone trooper. Judging from the colour of his armour and the kama over his hips, he was one of the officers of the Coruscant Guard who were taking more and more prominent presence in the Senate and the rest of the capital.
Who was currently standing still, taking in the tableau in front of him.
“Yes?” asked the Chairman impatiently. “What do you want?”
Riyo blushed at his rudeness, but the officer’s posture didn’t change. His visor gave away nothing.
“I’m CC-1010, the Commander of the Coruscant Guard, and I came here to let you know that I will be leading your security detail during the duration of your trip to Orto Plutonia, Senator, per Chancellor’s request,” he answered calmly, but addressing Riyo exclusively.
Riyo’s eyes grew wide as the Chairman bristled.
“Whatever Chancellor Palpatine means by that?” he demanded. “We do not need your security detail – we have our own guards.”
His disdainful gaze clearly implied that he found them superior to the clone in front of him.
“I was informed that the Pantoran guards are assigned to you exclusively, sir,” came the unflappable answer. “Thus the Chancellor assigned the Coruscant Guards solely to Senator Chuchi.”
The Chairman turned abruptly towards Riyo.
“Have you requested it?” he demanded, his eyes flashing with anger at the very prospect.
Riyo straightened in her chair. She hated confrontation and she wanted the Chairman’s approval – she wanted it very much – but he was being completely unreasonable. She had done nothing wrong. He had no right to treat her like that.
“No, I did not,” she said quietly but firmly. “But if I did, I would have the right to do so. Senators are authorised to request the members of Coruscant Guard as diplomatic escorts while they are travelling in their official capacity as representatives of the Senate – and this is my role on the journey to Orto Plutonia.”
The Chairman’s grimace deepened, but blessedly he turned away from her with a dramatic swish of his cape.
“We’re leaving at five in the morning. Don’t be late,” was his parting shot. He didn’t deign to acknowledge the commander at all, even as he passed him on his way to the door.
As soon as it closed behind him, Riyo dropped her head into her hands.
“I’m sorry for that, Commander,” she murmured, rubbing her temples. “I’m afraid the Chairman was rather agitated by the situation we’re facing.”
“Not at all, ma’am,” answered the commander composedly, although Riyo thought she could detect a bit of dryness in his tone indicating that he didn’t believe for a moment that the Chairman’s behaviour was a one-time occurrence. Then, after obvious hesitation, he added in a gentler tone of voice. “Excuse me for asking, but are you alright?”
Riyo lowered her hands to her desk and looked at him tiredly.
“Yes,” she lied. “Just a little tired.”
She didn’t believe she convinced him, not after the scene he had just witnessed, but her pride was suffering as it was. She told herself firmly to get a grip. She was a Senator, representing her whole people, not a scolded schoolgirl with hurt feelings, even if right now she felt like it. “So you will be accompanying me?”
“Yes, ma’am,” came the answer, once again in the bland, professional tone, its momentary gentleness abandoned so completely that Riyo wondered whether she didn’t just imagine it. “Me and Shock Trooper Rys. He’s a soldier experienced in diplomatic security and very capable – he’s recently returned from a mission with General Yoda during which he behaved in an exemplary manner under enemy fire. You will be adequately protected whether with him or me guarding you, Senator.”
“I don’t doubt it, commander,” said Riyo, frowning in puzzlement. While she defended her right to diplomatic escort to Chairman Cho, she couldn’t figure out where the Chancellor’s sudden concern for her safety came from. Until this moment she remained doubtful whether the Chancellor even knew who she was. “To be honest, I’m not sure your presence is necessary. I’m going to be accompanied by two Jedi generals, a whole clone platoon, and the Pantoran guards who are there to protect the Chairman, true, but I don’t believe they would allow me to come to any harm either.”
“The Chancellor wishes for you to have protection detail dedicated solely to your safety, ma’am,” answered the commander in a tone not brokering further discussion. “It’s not a simple diplomatic mission. You’re joining an investigative task for going to a planet where a whole garrison went radio silent. The probability that whatever befell then may be a danger to you is very high – and if the enemy was able to defeat our troops before they were able to send a distress signal, it’s likely that the platoon accompanying you will be embroiled in armed combat. The Chancellor’s concern is not misplaced in those circumstances.”
Riyo swallowed, her throat getting dry. She didn’t allow herself to think too much about what she was going to encounter on Orto Plutonia, but she had to admit that the commander’s words were all too sensible – or that they fanned the fear which was already growing in her despite her resolve not to allow it to govern her.
“Then I will have to thank him for it,” she said, striving for composure. “I will see you at the spaceport then?”
The commander shook his head.
“I and Trooper Rys will pick you up from your apartment tomorrow at four thirty in the morning,” he explained. “Our protective detail starts the moment you put your foot outside your door.”
Riyo took a shaky breath and got up from her desk.
“Alright then,” she said, coming over to the commander and offering him her hand. “See you tomorrow morning, commander.”
He startled imperceptibly at her polite gesture and for a long moment seemed to gawk at her hand through the visor of his helmet before he recollected himself and tentatively grasped it to shake.
“Goodnight, ma’am,” he said and turned to the door.
“Wait!” called Riyo, suddenly aware that in all the turmoil she neglected to ask something vitally important.
The commander half-turned back, politely waiting for her to speak. Riyo felt herself blush in embarrassment.
“What is your name, commander?” she asked, blushing even more at the way he clearly startled at the question. “I’m sorry I didn’t ask before.”
“CC-1010,” he answered.
“I know that’s your number,” Riyo plunged on, feeling terribly awkward. “But all the clone soldiers I’ve met used nicknames… and you called Shock Trooper Rys by name as well. Don’t you have one too?”
For another long moment the silence between them was growing steadily heavier until Riyo was unable to stand it any longer.
“I apologise if I offended you,” she said hastily and miserably. “I don’t have much experience yet with clones. It just seemed to me that it would be polite to call you by a name rather than a number but if you prefer otherwise…”
“Fox,” the commander interrupted her nervous babbling. Riyo blinked at him in surprise. “My name is Fox.”
Riyo smiled tentatively, hoping that her huge sigh of relief was not too noticeable.
“Thank you for telling me,” she said softly. “Goodnight then, Commander Fox.”
He bowed his head curtly and left her office without further delay.