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It was his hand holding the blaster, aiming and then firing at a trooper, brother, vod.
But Fox, had been under orders to do so, right?!
Had it all been a dream, was he still dreaming? Or was it real?
The horrid truth of him shooting his kindred certainly not something Fox had ever thought to be doing for whatever reason behind it. As this trooper, had died. Shot to dead. By Fox.
Why? Why had he needed to do it? Why not simply stay his ground, object the order. There was nothing stopping him from going against orders, right? Fox had done it before, they all had.
So why now? Why this order? Why Fox?
The ifs, buts and whys and maybes were filling his mind.
The anxiety, the self-loathing, the blame, all of it rattling in his brain. The quilt weighing heavy on his shoulders. The fact that he, Fox had done something really bad, something so wrong it could never be forgiven.
Fox’s vision was blurred, his mind reeling over and over the scenario in the warehouse.
Then, the panic hit him. The cold sweat running across his body. The nausea following suit. Fox felt like throwing up, only managing to calm himself at the very last minute before he needed to head to the refresher.
Fox was all alone in his small quarters.
The walls certainly closing in on him at the very moment even if he had never really cared about the accommodations in the past. Small, big, who cared as long as there was a bed to sleep in and a shower to wash-up with.
Fox closed his eyes, trying to empty his mind and maybe, if he was lucky, get some sleep.
*
He must’ve nodded off finally at some point. But then he felt it, the soft shaking of his body?
“Fox? You okay?”
“Wha…???”
“You fell asleep. You still with us?”
“I… the shooting…”
“What shooting?”
Fox stared at Thire, looking confused and bewildered.
“The vod, I shot one of Rex’s vod’e.”
“What?”
“Back at the warehouse. You were there, we were all there. The trooper was trying to kill Councillor Palpatine.”
“Fox… look, you must’ve been dreaming.”
“About what exactly?”
“The whatever you think happened. The shooting, warehouse, Rex, the lot of it.”
“No, it happened, I was there. I, was… there.”
Fox felt a sting behind his eyes. The events so fresh, so real still in his mind. It must’ve happened right? Or was he going completely crazy? He couldn’t simply have dreamt about it?
“Fox.. You had a bad episode after the neurotoxin gas we were exposed to back in the warehouse. You took the bulk of it though. But there was no shooting. Just a bunch of thieves trying to cover their tracks.”
“But…”
“Fox… I was there, were were all there like you said. But no trooper died today.”
“I.. it was a dream?”
“Yeah Fox, whatever you concocted in your head afterwards, was only a dream.”