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Chapter Text

Cody didn’t believe Rex when he said that Fox’s girlfriend was quote “karking insane and more terrifying than 17.” For one thing, no one was scarier than 17. Also, he wasn’t entirely sure this entire thing wasn’t some elaborate prank orchestrated by Fox. He probably got bored on Coruscant baby-sitting all of those uptight senators, and this plot was what came out of it.

He sighed, setting aside his datapad and leaning back, wincing when his back popped with a series of audible cracks. It had been a long campaign, which meant long hours of form work afterward. The fact that his general was out of commission didn’t help, either.

General Kenobi had been injured early on, but the stubborn (di’kut’la) jedi had hidden the blaster graze and kept going. The only reason they found out that anything was wrong was because the karking jedi passed out as soon as the Separatist general had signed the declaration of surrender.

What followed after was a flurry of getting him onto a ship, then into surgery, because of course what should’ve been a quick patch-job had gotten infected. The general had pulled through, but Master Che requested that he be transferred to the temple. Something about them being better able to handle his medbay-jumping tendencies. Considering that Boil, Waxer, and Wooley had also been injured in the battle, Cody could sympathize and sent Kenobi to her with a small note that said “May the force be with you”.

But Cody had finally gotten done with his last form, and it was only late afternoon. Which was perfect, he had time to go and check on his general. Then he’d be able to give the men an update so they would stop comm’ing him every twenty seconds.

Now with a plan in place, Cody nodded and pushed away from the desk, ignoring the fact that he’d been awake for at least 36 hours. He’d been through worse.

It wasn’t any trouble to have one of his pilots take him to the temple, and even less trouble to find the healing halls. Unfortunately, his general had been there many times over the course of the war, so he knew the way.

He nodded to Padawan Bunto, a tall Pantoran with golden arcs marking her cheeks. She took her job as the desk clerk very seriously, as evidenced by the bruises that she had given any of his men who tried to sneak in contraband datawork or tea for their general. “Good afternoon, Commander. I’m here to see my general.”

She looked up from her terminal. “I’d be happy to take you back, sir, but he’s not here.”

“He’s not?” From what Coric had said, that kind of infection took a while to clear up. He thought the general would be in the healing halls for at least another day.

The padawan shook her head. “He’s been transferred. We’re not able to manage it often, but considering how much trauma he has associated with medical beds and equipment, we try to keep him in the halls for as short a time as possible. Fortunately for us, we were able to send him to some old friends.”

Considering most of Kenobi’s old friends kept trying to kill him, Cody wasn’t too optimistic. “So where is he now?”

“I’ll give you the address.” The padawan smiled. “And don’t worry, Commander, they’re taking good care of your general.”

He frowned as he made his way back through the temple, flagging down a taxi and trying to figure out what ‘old friends’ the jedi had been referring to. Dex? But that wouldn’t make any sense, he was heading in the opposite direction, towards the senate. Was Duchess Satine on-planet?

He was still thinking when he touched the door pad of the apartment he had been led to. It slid open a few seconds later, revealing none other than Senator Amidala. “Ma’am,” he said, straightening to attention.

“At ease, Commander.” She smiled turned to give him room to walk past. “The temple called and said you were on your way. Obi-wan’s resting on the couch.”

His general’s voice rang out, “I’m being tortured Cody, you have to stop them!”

Walking a little faster, he strode into the living area, only to freeze. Kenobi was not being tortured. In fact, it looked like he was being pampered. A big fuzzy blanket was wrapped around him and a bowl of soup was cradled in his hands.

The jedi, though, looked rumpled. His hair stuck up in every direction, and tired eyes glared at one of the handmaidens. “They’re trying to kill me.”

“With soup?” the handmaiden asked, eyebrow raised in a way that was familiar. “Please, you know we could do much better than that.”

Cody couldn’t help but feel flat-footed. It was something that didn’t occur very often, and he didn’t like it. At all. “What exactly is going on here?”

Another woman appeared at his elbow, giving him a bowl of soup. She grinned. “Obes here has strict orders to rest for at least another day, but he’s decided that he wants to try and escape to do some really fun data work.”

The first handmaiden rolled her eyes. “The window, Obi-wan, really? You should’ve known that we reinforced those after that whole Fett incident.”

Senator Amidala leaned over and whispered, “He bounced off like a bug on a windshield. We’ll send you the footage.”

“So now he’s been confined to the living room, where he can be watched…closely.”

The glare of the woman, it looked almost like – “Are you Sabé?”

Her gaze immediately softened as she turned her attention to him. “Hi, Cody. Fox has told me a lot about you.”

“So you’re real? It’s not just some joke Fox came up with?”

Kenobi laughed, his soup almost in danger of spilling. “Oh, I assure you, Commander, Sabé is very real. And from what I’ve been hearing, she’s quite taken with your brother.”

The glare was back again. “I see that someone has been snitching.”

The other handmaidens quickly found other things to do, but the jedi only laughed again. “I’m just glad to see you so happy.”

Sabé rolled her eyes again. “Getting off the topic of my love life, have you gone to see Fox, Commander? He should be off shift in a few hours.”

“I’ll – go do that.”

She gave a decisive nod. “Good. He’s not going to say anything, but he misses you. Coruscant’s not the cushy posting that everyone seems to think it is.”

It slipped out before he could stop it. “Really? Babysitting senators is worse than an actual battlefield?”

It was like a switch had flipped. Sabé’s eyes narrowed and her teeth flashed in a grin that reminded Cody of a nexu. “Babysitting? Oh, the only people Fox babysits are your men when they get thrown in the drunk tank.”

She stood, stalking towards him on near-silent feet. “My commander fights on a battlefield where the enemy are the people he’s assigned to protect. And he doesn’t get leave like you do.”

By this point, she was right next to him, glaring at him like it would set his face on fire. “So don’t come in here acting like you’re better than him,” she grabbed his chest plate and pulled him down until they were face-to-face, “or else I’ll have to knock you down a few pegs. Understand?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he gulped.

“Sabé,” Kenobi interrupted, a worried look on his face, “would you mind going and getting me another cup of soup? Mine seems to have gotten cold.”

Without a word, she made a grabbing motion and the general used to force to send it to her hand. Then she prowled to the kitchen.

Once she was out of earshot, the jedi sighed. “I should’ve warned you, Commander, Sabé can be very…protective over the people she considers hers. I think it’s a side effect of being a handmaiden.” He looked towards the kitchen. “I think it’s safe to say that she considers Fox ‘hers’ now.”

“So is the rest of the Guard.” This handmaiden had pulled a knife from somewhere and was now sharpening it while never breaking eye contact.  

At this point, Sabé walked back in, and Cody decided that it was in his best interest for survival to apologize. “I’m sorry, ma’am. I didn’t realize that being on Coruscant was so dangerous.”

“You would if you had talked to Fox in the last few months.” She handed Kenobi another bowl of soup and sat beside him. “And Saché’s right. The Guard is ours, now, so don’t disrespect them or else you’ll have to deal with us.”

Usually, Cody would shrug the threat off. They were just nat-borns, after all, not something he usually had to worry about. But then again, they were apparently old friends of the general’s, and if what Rex said was true, warriors in their own right. He decided to take it seriously.

Before he could say anything, she continued, “Obi-wan is ours, too, so if he gets into trouble he can’t get out of, give us a comm.”

“How do you know the general?”

“It was a long time ago-” the jedi started, only to be cut off by Senator Amidala.

“Not that long ago, Obi-wan. You’re making us sound ancient.” She turned to Cody. “It was a little over ten years ago.”

“Ten years and he still hasn’t accepted our job offer,” Saché draped herself dramatically over the chair. “I’m starting to think you aren’t just playing hard to get, Obes.”

Cody raised an eyebrow. “Job offer?”

“Yes.” Sabé grinned while Obi-wan blushed. “Chief Boy Toy.”

Cody sputtered, “Boy toy?”

Amidala settled into her chair. “Take a seat, Commander, and we’ll tell you the story of the Jedi and the Queen.”

And by the end of the tale, Cody was not only convinced that Fox’s girlfriend was crazy, but also capable of killing anyone that hurt him. Which was good, if Coruscant was as dangerous as she said. As he left the apartment, headed to the Guard’s barracks, he sent a text to the command chat, Fox, I’m with Rex. Your girlfriend is scary as kark.

Chapter Text

The way his batchmates were dealing with the thought that Fox had a nat-born girlfriend was driving him up the wall. Who cared if she was scary, or normal, or secretly made out of dismantled droids? They had a war to fight, and talking about Fox’s girlfriend wasn’t going to help them win.

And now not only was Rex jabbering about it, Cody was, too. He still hadn’t let up and it had been over two months since he had met the woman, for force’s sake. Angrily, he muted his comm and the brothers who were going to be the death of him.

General Koon huffed a laugh from his side of the strategy table. “What seems to be the problem, my son? Have Sinker and Boost gotten into the hair dye again?”

“No, sir.” He took a deep breath, knowing that it wouldn’t do any good to snap at his general. “Just my idiot batchmates.”

“Ah,” he answered, the smile clear in his voice, “has the argument about which ration bar is best started up again?”

“They just need to come to terms with the fact that red is the vastly superior flavor, but no.” He tried to force himself to study the map of the village they were being sent to. “They’re talking about Fox’s girlfriend again. Apparently she helped take down a bounty hunter or something, and everyone’s going crazy about it.”

The jedi crossed his arms, talons tapping on his vambrace as he thought. “I wasn’t aware that your brother was in a relationship.”

Wolffe shrugged, zooming in on an area of the map. “Bly’s still convinced that she was built in the barrack’s basement. Rex and Cody have met her, though. Say she’s scary.”

“And what might this young lady’s name be?”

Hoping that this wasn’t going to lead into another long conversation about the woman, he answered, “Sabé Veruna. She’s the chief handmaiden for Senator Padmé Amidala.”

“Then I believe that you’ll be able to make your own decision about Chief Veruna very soon.” With a few taps, a message flickered to life above the holotable. “Because she and the Senator arrived on Ryloth two days ago with the first wave of relief supplies.”

“Isn’t that dangerous?” The planet had just been cleared of the last Separatist holdouts a week ago. As far as Wolffe knew, citizens weren’t even allowed into the sector yet.

Koon was definitely grinning, now. “I have been fortunate enough to meet the handmaidens a time or two, and have heard much about them from Master Kenobi. This mission is probably their idea of a vacation.”

Realizing that he had been silent for too long, Wolffe dismissed the message and frowned. “Then I look forward to meeting them.”

Plo’buir just shook his head before returning to the task at hand. “Not as much as I look forward to you meeting them.” 

--------------

Wolffe didn’t like Ryloth. Although, to be fair, he didn’t like most planets. But Ryloth especially. It was hot, dust kept getting into his helmet filters, and people kept bothering him. Apparently when the 212^th came through, they had given the impression that every clone was just as sunny and happy as those di’kuts.

After the twentieth nat-born came by just to shake his hand and thank him, Wolffe had had enough. “I’m taking a break,” he grumbled to Sinker, not waiting for a reply before storming out of the tent.

Did he know where he was going? Nope. And he didn’t care, as long as it was away from everyone else.

Thinking back to the maps he had studied, he seemed to remember there being a park around here. Well, if the Seppies hadn’t blown it up.

He turned the corner, only to be greeted by the sounds of children screaming. Immediately, his hand went for his blaster, only to freeze.

The children were playing. A few of them were holding what looked like to be imaginary blasters. One or two were holding sticks, so they must be pretending to be jedi. But all of them had surrounded a single woman like the galaxy’s shortest gang.

“Oh no!” she yelled, dramatically falling backwards on the ground. “I have been vanquished by the mighty jedi!”

One of the tubies squealed in delight as they jumped on top of her. The poor woman could only try to gasp while the tiny terror raised their fist. “We won!” Then, the rest of the kids dogpiled on top.

“It’s surprising how well she plays with kids.”

Wolffe whipped around, blaster in hand, only to stop again. This was getting ridiculous. 17 would make him run suicides if he found out he had been surprised…twice. “Senator Amidala.”

If the woman was offended at the blaster pointed at her, she didn’t show it. “Hello, Commander. Did you need to get away, too?”

Quickly holstering his weapon, he was grateful that his helmet covered his blush. “I was just heading back.”

The senator laughed. “You’re a bad liar, Commander.” Looking back over the kids, who had now moved to playing tag with the woman, she grinned. “We’ve been working with the Children Safety Bureau all day, trying to help these little ones find a home.”

“They’re orphans?”

“Their families were killed during the war,” Amidala nodded. “When we got here this morning, not a single child smiled or wanted to play, too hurt and worn-down by what they’ve been through. Sabé decided to change that.” She hid a laugh behind her hand as the chief was tackled to the ground again by a particularly enterprising toddler. “I’m glad to see that she was successful.”

His mouth flew open. “That’s Sabé? Fox’s Sabé?”

“I see you’ve heard of her.” She grinned. “Is she not what you expected?”

Wolffe turned back to look at the kids, who had decided that it would be a great idea to play tag. It involved more parkour than he was used to, but it wasn’t like he had a lot of experience with nat-born games. “From the way Rex and Cody talked, the Chief is a force of nature.”

“An accurate description,” the senator said with a smirk.

Suddenly, a spark of mischief entered her eyes. “Sabe!”

The handmaiden paused and looked over to them. When she saw Wolffe, her face lit up. “Hi, Commander!”

“I think the good Commander would like to play with you and the children. Is there room for one more?” She pushed him forward with a not-so-gentle shove, completely ignoring his protests.

One of the kids, a small orange twi’lek with a tooth missing, immediately ran towards him. “You’re on my team.” Then he called out to the other tubies, “Let’s play capture the flag!”

What happened next was one of the most confusing battles Wolffe had ever participated in. These cadets had no discipline, and their defensive lines were so sloppy that Alpha would’ve had a heart attack (if he had a heart, which they had yet to prove).

He wasn’t sure how long it lasted, but by the time the kids were called back into the orphanage, Wolffe felt like he had suffered through a hard campaign. Also, his helmet had been lost sometime between the kids discovering that mud could be used as a projectile weapon and Sabé using the playground equipment to run over everyone’s heads.

“You okay, Commander?”

He dragged his eyes up to meet the Chief’s. Somehow, she looked as unrumpled as when they had begun, with the exception of a streak of mud across her cheek. “I’ve been better.”

She laughed and offered a hand up. “How about we hose you down and then get a bite to eat?”

“That sounds like a plan, Chief.” Fortunately there was a hose attached to the side of the building, and it was so hot out that he figured he’d be dry by the time they reached the mess tent. He was hosed down quickly and efficiently, and with maybe a little more force than necessary.

Rolling the hose back, the Chief grinned. “Considering everything, I think you can call me Sabé.”

“Sabé,” he repeated, shaking out a few more clumps of mud from his hair. “I guess that you can call me Wolffe, then. How’s Fox?”

They began to make their way back to the center of the camp. “Tired. That’s normal, though.” She gave him a small smile as she gave him an assessing once-over. “I know that Fox will ask, so how have you been?”

The commander shrugged and then stared at some shinies until they looked away. So what if he was soaking wet and walking with a handmaiden? They were going to have to get used to seeing weirder things in the 104^th. “We haven’t had leave in a couple of months, and our shinies are getting shipped in younger and younger. Other than that, I can’t complain.”

She hummed. “Any reason in particular you can’t get leave?”

“Some bureaucratic kark, I imagine.” He froze, then threw a quick look at Sabé. “No offense.”

“None taken.” She grinned and then pulled out a comm, sending a quick message before putting it back in her pocket. “I also hate that ‘bureaucratic kark’. Takes twenty years just to figure out what color to paint the ‘freshers.”

Wolffe snorted as they walked through the open tent flap and grabbed some rations. Luckily there were still some red bars left, which were obviously the best ones, no matter what Cody said. “From the way you talk, you don’t really want to be there.”

“I don’t,” she easily admitted, “but Padmé seems to think that we can do some good. I’m not convinced, but I go where Padmé goes.”

They found an open table and sat down, Sabé pulling a knife out from somewhere in her dress and flaying the ration pack open like a seasoned trooper. “Is the senator your batchmate?”

Sabé nodded. “Basically. We’ve known each other since before she was queen, and after all that kark during her term in office, all of us handmaidens are basically codependent. Our retirement plans now include a house big enough to hold all of us and our future families.”

“Sounds like batchmates, alright.” He ate the last few pieces of his bar and crumpled the wrapper. “I could see our batch doing something like that when the war’s over.”

“Mmmm.” There was a pause, and then Sabé smirked. “You guys could always live with us.”

Wolffe raised an eyebrow. “Don’t get me wrong, you seem like a really nice lady, but I don’t think we’re gonna do that.”

As if she was commenting on the weather, she said, “Well, I’m pretty sure that Fox will if we get married.”

“Married?” he choked out.

“Oh my dear Commander,” she answered, grinning ferally, “I play for keeps. But don’t worry, you and the rest of your batch would be welcome in our home any time.” Without another word, she stood and left the tent.

General Koon found him at the table a little while later. “Ah,” he said, definitely grinning under his mask, “I see you’ve met the Chief.”

Wolffe looked up, still trying to process everything. “Are all nat-borns like that?”

“Don’t worry, my son, Chief Veruna is one of a kind.” He took the seat across from him, using the force to levitate the empty wrapper into a bin. “We’ll be getting a week of leave after this assignment.”

“Leave? But we haven’t gotten-”

“I know, and Senator Amidala seemed very pleased with herself when she gave me the news.” He hummed. “Would you happen to know how she found out we haven’t had any leave since Felucia?”

The commander thought back, but he hadn’t mentioned their leave to anyone except... “I told the Chief earlier, but she couldn’t have had time to get that worked out.”

“I’ve found it unwise to underestimate the Handmaidens of Amidala, Wolffe.” With a small sigh, the general stood. “I don’t know how they did it, but I for one am not going to look a gift bantha in the mouth. Your brother is lucky to have people like them on his side.”

“Yeah,” Wolffe answered, thinking about their interactions today in a whole new light, “I think he is.”

Chapter Text

There were a lot of things that Bly wanted to do while on Coruscant. Spend time with Aayla? Definitely. Go to 79’s? That was a given. Attend some fancy gala and watch while every guy in the room flirted with his general? That, he could do without.

But of course their leave time had coincided with the ball some slimy politician had decided to throw to celebrate the one-year anniversary of the war. And it wasn’t like Aayla could give a reason to not attend, not when even council members like General Yoda and Koth were stuck here, too.

But those generals didn’t have random people throwing themselves at them, did they? He didn’t even bother hiding his sneer as another drunk senator fell all over his general. He didn’t have his bucket hiding his expression, since he was in his dress grays, but to be honest, he didn’t think anyone was sober enough to care.

“You could always go and get her.”

Bly definitely didn’t jump at the woman who had appeared at his elbow. And he definitely didn’t squeal like a tubie.

Ignoring him, the woman continued, “There’s no need to keep staring daggers into the di’kuts. You could probably redirect them to a shapely plant and they’ll be occupied for the rest of the night.”

The lady wore a dark purple dress, the layers of her skirt cascading like a waterfall. A short cape hung over her shoulders, ending at her waist. Finally, her hair was pulled back into a complicated-looking bun. But what stuck out to him the most were her eyes.

17 always said that if you looked at someone’s eyes, you’d be able to tell if they were a threat or not. And this woman was a threat. Her gaze roved through the crowd, never staying in one spot for long. There was also something calculating about it, which was at odds with her fancy outfit.

Suddenly, he remembered that he had been silent for way too long. “I don’t think the senator would like that very much. Might make a scene.”

That cold gaze turned to him for a moment before her face transformed into a smirk. “Oh, that’s not a senator. His name is Gorth Nivor, a secretary for the Trade Federation. Not good at his job, but his father’s vice president of acquisitions, so they keep him around.”

The string quartet in the corner began to play, and Bly had to watch as Nivor offered his hand to his general. Not wanting to be rude, she took it and they moved to the dance floor. His dress glove creaked under the pressure of him clenching his fist.

A quiet snort brought his attention back to the woman at his side. With a raised eyebrow, she grinned. “Are you any good at dancing?”

“Dancing?” he choked out.

“Don’t worry,” she said, grabbing his hand without another word and pulling him towards the middle of the room, “keep your hands still, move your feet like you’re doing the aiwha kata, and follow my lead.”

Before he could say anything, they were on the dance floor. “One hand on my waist,” the woman instructed, moving his other hand a little higher. “Good. Now, we dance.”

Bly wasn’t going to lie and say that he was a good dancer. He stepped on his partner’s feet more than once, but she just laughed each time and gently corrected him. They both circled the dance floor in a pattern that only the woman seemed to know. Within a few minutes, though, they were next to his general and the secretary.

“Alright, here comes the tricky part.” Her grip tightened slightly. “In a minute, I want you to think very loudly at your general to do a spin. We’ll do the same, and then we can swap partners. But you owe me.”

Resigned to the fact that he was now stuck doing whatever this random lady said, he nodded. “Alright.”

“Start thinking it…now.” Bly did, and a few seconds later, she said, “Spin.”

She twisted away from him, Aayla smoothly doing the same behind her. Within a heartbeat, they had swapped, and Aayla was now safe in his arms. “Hello, Commander.”

“H-hi, General,” he stammered. “I hope you don’t mind, but you looked uncomfortable.”

“Let’s just say Mr. Nivor isn’t my type.” She smiled and began to guide them towards the edge of the floor. “Thanks for the rescue.”

With a blush, he answered, “It was the lady’s idea, I’m just the guy who stepped on her feet.”

“Mmm.” They had finally made it to a less-crowded corner of the room. It looked like only a few senators were here, the ‘good ones’ as his general called them. “I’ll have to thank her, then.”

She was then pulled into another conversation by Senator Chuchi, but at least Bly was able to be near her. The feeling that this wasn’t a safe space was apparently echoed by the other commanders, since they also stood close to their generals. The few padawan commanders in attendance weren’t even able to move out of arm’s reach.

“Bly?” Aalya tugged on his arm. “I’d like you to meet Senator Amidala. She is doing great work on the Clone Rights Bill.”

“My handmaidens are doing most of it, I assure you,” the senator answered with a smile.

But Bly barely heard her. Before he could stop himself, he asked, “How did you change so quickly?”

Because this was definitely the lady from earlier, but in a light pink dress. Her hair was also done in an updo, not a bun.

Amidala laughed. “I was wondering where Sabé had gone. She’s my Chief Handmaiden, but we do look alike.”

“Fox’s Sabé?” Images of the woman being assembled from spare droid parts in the basement of the Guard’s barracks flashed through his head. Looks like he owed Wolffe five credits, because the woman from earlier wasn’t a droid.

“Fox’s Sabé,” the senator repeated. “I hope she didn’t scare you too much.”

“Quite the opposite actually.” His general took the reigns of the conversation, which Bly was only too happy for, considering he was still floundering. “She helped Bly rescue me from the grips of Gorth Nivor. Hopefully she’s managed to get away from him by now.”

“She has.” Sabé joined the group, scowl firmly in place. She reached up to fix her hair, which had come undone sometime in the last ten minutes, and turned to the senator. “Are you sure that we can’t blackmail him off of Coruscant?”

With a roll of her eyes, Amidala smiled. “You know the rules, Sabé, no kicking people out of office unless they break the law. It’s better to know our enemy than risk a new player.”

“He’s a creep.” Her frown deepened as she watched the man in question flirt with another extremely drunk attendee. “I put a laxative in his champagne, though, so that should save anyone he tries to take home tonight.”

“A what?” Bly asked, trying to remember if he had drank anything around the chief.

She looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “It’s harmless. He probably needed a good cleansing, anyway. The man eats way too much junk food.”

“How did you even slip that into his drink?” Aayla asked, way more curious than Bly had expected.

A smile began to grow on her face. “A handmaiden never reveals her secrets. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go check on the rest of my team.” Sabé bowed slightly. “Have a good night.”

“She seems…nice.”

“Just wait.” Discreetly gesturing with her glass, she pointed out a Guardsman standing along the wall. An extremely intoxicated rodian was getting very close, and although the vod didn’t move, Bly could tell he was uncomfortable. “Sabé keeps an eye on the Guard whenever there’s an event like this.”

The handmaiden in question had grabbed a drink from a passing waiter and was marching towards the vod. Then she tripped, holding onto the Guard’s pauldron to keep from actually falling. That didn’t stop her drink from splashing all over the other woman’s dress.

What happened next was acting worthy of the best holos. Sabé, clearly pretending to be drunk, tried to dab the dress dry, only managing to make the mess bigger and bigger. After a minute of this, the other woman had finally had enough and stormed off.

As soon as she was out of sight, the chief dropped the act. She turned and checked on the Guardsman, hand resting briefly on his arm before becoming satisfied by whatever he had said. Then she stalked off, probably going to harass anyone else who dared to touch the Guard.

“It doesn’t help that Commander Fox is stuck in the med-bay right now,” Amidala muttered, eyes never leaving her chief. “She always gets more…protective when he’s hurt. Like she’s trying to cover for both of them.”

“I didn’t know that Fox was injured.” There were a hundred questions he wanted to ask. Coruscant was supposed to be safe, how did his ori’vod get hurt? And from the way the senator talked, this had happened before.

She seemed to understand. “There was a riot yesterday. Someone got a hold of a piece of rubble and threw it at a shiny. Fox covered him. Stitches says he’s going to be fine, but he has a killer concussion.” With a small smile, she added, “Sabé’s going to go see him in a little while. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind you joining her.”

Which was why, an hour later, he was following the Chief through the halls of the Guard’s barracks. This was the first time he’d been here, and he felt like an intruder, the visors of the other Guards following him long after he’d passed.

Finally, though, they made it to the medbay. Which was where Fox was arguing with his CMO. “I told you, I’m fine!”

“I highly doubt that,” Sabé answered, sweeping into the room. Bly couldn’t ignore the way his brother’s face lit up when he saw her, and Fox’s smile only grew when she made him scoot to the other side of the bed so that she could sit beside him. “I thought we agreed to listen to Stitches.”

The smile turned into scowl. “He’s being ridiculous. I’m-”

“If you were ‘fine’,” she interrupted, “you would have noticed that I brought along a friend.”

Fox looked up at that, the scowl disappearing when he noticed the person standing awkwardly in the door. “Bly!”

“Hey, Fox.” He slowly went deeper into the room. “How are you feeling?”

With a shrug and extremely dilated eyes, he answered, “I’ve had worse. When did you get back from the rim?”

“Two days ago.” Bly winced internally when he thought about the fact that he could’ve helped his brother with that riot. He had been on-planet, maybe he could’ve kept that rock from hitting him.

Sabé grinned. “You should’ve seen how he was looking at his general, ner karta. I don’t think you’re the only one with a girlfriend.”

A blush immediately grew on Bly’s face. “She’s not my-”

“Why not?” Fox interrupted, putting an arm around Sabé’s shoulders and pulling her closer. “Having a girlfriend is great. I love mine.”

“You’d better,” she said, kissing him on the cheek. Turning back to Bly, her gaze became calculating. “So are you going to make a move or be lovesick forever?”

Now firmly flat-footed, he stammered, “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You need to get her a flower.” Fox nodded sagely. “That’s how you start. Then, you get to fist-fight all her friends.”

“What?” he croaked out.

Sabé laughed. “Those are the Naboo traditions, cyare, I think the jedi are a little different. I can talk to Obi-wan for you and find out, if you’d like.”

This conversation was getting weirder and weirder. “General Kenobi?”

“Or maybe not.” She toed off her boots and put her feet on the cot. “Let’s start with the basics and then you can figure out what comes next, alright?”

With a sigh, he sat in the visitor’s chair and put his head in his hands. “We’re doing this whether I want to or not, aren’t we?”

“It’s for your own good,” Fox said. “Now, about that flower-”

Chapter Text

Ponds wanted to curse this war. The day after he leaves for a long-term campaign his vod’ika shoots one of Rex’s ARCs. To make it worse, the campaign was riddled with bad intel and worse weather conditions, so he couldn’t do any more than send messages that were never delivered (because of the aforementioned weather) and hope that the rest of his batchmates would figure out what was going on. Because Fox wouldn’t kill a brother without reason.

Unfortunately, his brothers had disappointed him. They had cut Fox off without even digging deeper. Because the excuse “I had orders” wasn’t a real reason. Not for Fox, the vod who could find the loophole in anything.

As soon as his ship had entered real space in Corsucant’s atmosphere, Ponds was on a ship headed to the surface. Nothing was going to keep him from seeing his brother. If he was on shift, he would wait. If he was asleep, he’d be there when he woke up. He was going to get answers, whether Fox wanted to give them or not.

He marched to the front office of the barracks, scaring the poor vod who probably hadn’t expected an angry commander to come busting in in the middle of the night. “I want to see Fox.”

“He’s-”

“I’ll wait,” Ponds cut him off. Then, he remembered that this was a vod’ika and tried to make his voice gentler. “I just want to see him. I’ll wait as long as it takes. In his office.”

That didn’t seem to make the vod feel any better though, which was odd, his ‘gentle’ voice usually calmed down even the scaredest shinies. “His office, sir?”

“Yes, since I know he’s bound to go in there sometime. Don’t worry,” he threw over his shoulder as he began his walk down the hall, “I remember the way.”

Of course, the last time he had been in the barracks had been at the beginning of the war. Which is why he took at least three wrong turns and had to ask directions from some other trooper who had shook his head and pointed him in the right direction. Not like he was going to admit that to anyone, though.

And now he was here, standing in front of Fox’s door. It would’ve probably been a good idea to figure out where Fox was. Serves him right for scaring the poor kid at the front desk. Well, he thought with a mental sigh, he did say that he would wait as long as it took. Maybe the temple would deliver breakfast to the barracks. There was no way he was eating mess hall slop if the Temple Commissary’s omelets were an option.

He palmed open the door. Maybe General Windu could go by Dex’s and pick – “Who are you?”

The woman, who was definitely not authorized to be sitting in Fox’s chair, looked up with a raised eyebrow. Her hand reached below the desk, and Ponds reached for his own sidearm. “I think the better question is: why the kark are you here? Want to yell at Fox, too?”

“You’re Sabé.” The fierce protectiveness in her voice was evidence enough, but Ponds had to be sure.

She nodded. “And I’m not going to let another one of his batchmates stroll in here, disown him, and then leave. So. Why. Are. You. Here.”

Noticing that her hand hadn’t strayed from what was undoubtably an out-of-sight blaster, Ponds slowly lifted his hands in the air. “I’m here for answers. Fox wouldn’t have shot that vod without a reason.”

“Fives was drugged and pointing a blaster at him.” She hadn’t stopped glaring at him. “There was no other option.”

“Maybe that would be true if Fox was anyone else, but he could’ve found a way,” he argued. “He could’ve used the stun setting.”

The look that she gave him could kill. Her knuckles turned white as she gripped her datapad. “He had orders.”

“Of course he did. Fives was a fugitive. But that doesn’t tell me why Fox didn’t set the blaster to stun.” Ponds began to pace the room. It was a nervous habit from when he was a cadet, but it still came out in tense moments. Like this one. “He was always the best of us when it came to thinking on his feet. I just don’t understand how this happened.”

Her eyes narrowed. “He had orders,” she repeated. The words were the same, but the tone was different. There was something else to this. Something he couldn’t see.

He clenched his fists. “Who gave them?”

Sabé signed the datapad in her hand dismissively and put it in the stack to her left. She then grabbed the top one from the stack on her right and signed it, too. “The same di’kut that keeps giving Fox his datawork.”

“Isn’t that illegal?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Me signing them, Fox signing them, or the Chancellor giving them to him in the first place?”

It was obvious why Fox liked her. Alpha probably would, too. Not that he’d ever admit it. “Take your pick.”

For the first time since he had come in, she smiled. It was small, but it counted. “Yes. Yes. And kark yes.” She paused, and the smile dimmed. “What are you going to do when Fox gets back? Because if you’re here to argue, I’ll stun and drag you out of this building myself.”

Ponds wouldn’t have believed that threat if it came from some other nat-born, but something told him Sabé could and would do it. “I just wanted answers, and it seems like you’ve given them to me. The chancellor wanted Fives dead.”

Another signed datapad was added to the stack. “I can neither confirm nor deny that.”

“So Fox didn’t have a choice.” He frowned. “The Chancellor is a powerful man. If Fox disobeyed orders…”

“Don’t finish that sentence. Not here.” Sabé ran her fingers through her hair, wincing when she hit knots. “Coruscant isn’t the safe posting everyone believes it is.” Her gaze pierced him. “If you’re going to talk about conspiracy theories, do it in the Temple or on your ships, not around Fox or his men. Understand?”

Oh yes, she and Fox fit well together. They were compromised somehow. Somehow that also involved Fives and whatever had gotten him killed. “How’s Fox?”

There was that eyebrow again. “Take a guess.”

With a snort, he sat on the out-of-place fancy couch. “Fair enough. When do you think he’ll be back?”

“An hour, maybe six. It depends on how many senators decide to act like idiots during the off hours.” She stood and made her way over to a caf machine. “Can I get you anything?”

“You’re pregnant?!?” If he were trained by anyone other than Alpha-17, the question would’ve come out as a shout. There was no doubt about it, though, unless the Chief had somehow gained an unhealthy amount of weight.

“Yes,” she said, as if she wasn’t making his galaxy explode. “Would you like caf or not?”

He was definitely going to need something to get through the rest of this conversation. “Do you have any alcohol?”

She glanced in his direction with a snort. “Fox told me you were a lightweight.”

“I need to be drunk to deal with,” he waved a hand in her direction, “this.”

“Fair enough.” She kicked the side of the desk, a secret compartment opening to reveal a bottle of tihaar. Tossing it to him, she took her spot in Fox’s chair. “I’d prefer that this doesn’t get out to the rest of the batch. I don’t think they’d take it well.”

Ponds downed at least a quarter of the bottle before answering. “So it is Fox’s then?”

“Who else?” she asked as if it were the most obvious thing in the galaxy.

He took another swallow. “When is the baby supposed to be - what’s the nat-born word for it - decanted?”

“Born,” Sabé supplied with a smile. “She’s due in a few months.”

“It’s a girl?” he stammered. Then, he put his hand to his head. “I’m going to be a ba’vod’u.”

Sabé laughed as she signed another datapad. “You look like I’ve told you that you’re going to be taken to a firing squad at dawn. It’s just a baby.”

“But it’s not just a baby. It’s Fox’s baby. Do you know how terrible he was as a cadet?” His mind flashed to all of the times Alpha had to drag Fox out of a vent. “Are nat-born females easier to deal with as children?”

“Depends on the child,” she said with a shrug. “But considering that I wasn’t an ‘easy’ child, I’m going to say the chances of our little one being a rule follower are slim.”

He downed some more tihaar. “Force help us all,” he choked out through the burn.

Sabé raised an eyebrow, judging the amount left in the bottle. “You know, if you keep drinking that you’re going to end up passed out on the couch. And I don’t clean up barf.”

“My brother’s having a tubie,” Ponds answered, “I’m going to need all the alcohol I can get.”

She shrugged. “Your funeral.”

-----------------------

Blinding light woke him up. Ponds groaned, holding his head which felt like it was about to leak out of his ears. “I always knew you were a lightweight.”

“Fox,” he groaned, “why the kark are the lights so bright?”

“The lights are off, di’kut. Here,” a hypo was pressed to his neck, and suddenly it became much easier to think, “Sabé left that for you.”

Blearily, he looked up at his brother. The circles under Fox’s eyes were atrocious, but at least there was a hint of a smile on his face. “She’s pregnant.”

“Yup. Drink this.” And then a mug of caf was shoved in his hands as Fox moved to sit behind his desk. He immediately got to work on a ‘pad. Somehow, the pile seemed to have only grown since last night. This morning? He wasn’t sure.

Ponds took a few sips, trying to get his thoughts in order. It was like trying to wrangle a squad of shinies on their first shore leave, so it took him longer than he’d like to admit. “She says that it’s yours?”

“Yup.”

He squinted, trying to bring Fox’s face into focus. “Do any of the others know?”

There was a slight hesitation this time. If someone didn’t know Fox, they wouldn’t have noticed. But Ponds knew his brother, and knew that he was hurting. “No.”

“I’ll talk to them. I’m sure that they’ll understand once they know-”

“You can’t,” Fox interrupted, almost dropping the datapad. “It’s too dangerous. Promise me that you won’t breathe a word about Sabé or Fives to anyone.”

The look on Fox’s face was one that he had never seen before: fear. His brother was afraid. And what else was he supposed to say except, “I promise.”

“Good.” He breathed a sigh of relief and rubbed his forehead. “How was your mission?”

“Fine. How are you dealing with the idea of being a buir?” Ponds leaned forward, immediately regretting it when it sent his headache through the roof.

Fox huffed. “I’m fine, Ponds, really.”

“Have you read any nat-born parenting books? General Billaba was looking through a good one right before she got Commander Dume. I could see if she would lend it to you.” Would it be hard to explain? Yes. But he would do it for his brother.

Who was currently trying not to laugh at him. “I think I’ll be okay. Thanks for the offer, though.”

“Did you know that nat-born tubies usually weigh about seven pounds when they’re decanted?”

That definitely made Fox stop. “What?”

“Seven. Pounds. Less than a blaster rifle.” Thank the force for that one relief mission they had gone on at the beginning of the war. A refugee had gone into labor right in front of him and the general, and he had gotten a front row seat to everything he never wanted to know.

His brother shook his head. “That can’t be right.”

“I held a tubie before, Fox.” Ponds took out his comm, pulling up the holo he had of himself and the kid from that mission and showing it to Fox. “They’re like tiny defenseless tookas. Sometimes, they don’t even know how to eat.”

The commander stared at him, stared at the holo, and back at him. Then, he stood up and began to march out the door. “I’ve gotta comm Sabé.”

Right after he left, Ponds got a comm of his own. Apparently they had gotten new orders and he was needed at the jedi temple. Maybe they could do some force osik to make his hangover go away, but he hated to leave without telling Fox goodbye. Knowing there was nothing for it, he scribbled out a note on a piece of flimsi and left it on the desk.

He opened up a pouch on his belt to put his comm back in, only to find a note there, too. Which was odd, because he definitely didn’t remember putting anything in there. He opened it up. In neat handwriting, it said: Check the chips.

Chips. It wasn’t much of a lead, but at least Sabé had given him something. He could only hope that he would be able to do something with it.

Chapter Text

Fox’s image was grainy over the holo connection, the detail sacrificed in the name of comm security. “So you’re going to Kamino.”

“Yes.” Sabé began to take out the dozens of pins in her hair, setting them on the table. “Obi-wan and the 212^th have been called back to the Outer Rim, and they don’t have the time to pick up new shinies and go back to triple zero. They’ll drop us off and have General Windu take us back to Coruscant.”

“Mmmm.”

She huffed and wished that she could reach through the comm to wipe that frown off of Fox’s face. “I’ll be fine, ner karta. The girls will watch my back.”

“I’m more worried about the cloners,” he answered, a small smirk growing. “If you kill anyone, just throw their bodies into the ocean under Platform Aurek. They’ll never find them.”

With a raised eyebrow, she said, “Sounds like you’re talking from experience.”

Fox just shrugged. “Nothing that can be proven.”

“Fair enough.” Finally through with the pins, she moved to her make-up. “Is there anything you want me to tell Ponds when I see him?”

“The usual.” Fox’s face darkened a little, as it always did when his brothers came up in conversation, but with a shake of his head, the smile was back. “Try not to burn the facility down, please.”

She was going to have to tell Ponds to comm Fox. One of his other batchmates must be on Coruscant. “I’m not going to make any promises. You know how I feel about the long-necks.”

“Considering that Burtoni has made several complaints about you? Yes, yes I do.” There was a pause. “Stay safe.”

“You’re the one on Coruscant, but I’ll do my best.” Sabé took a breath as she reminded herself that murder wasn’t always the answer and that she couldn’t sink Tipoca City into the ocean. Yet. “I’ll see you soon.”

The connection cut off. Sabé got ready for bed, mentally preparing herself for the place that still gave Fox nightmares. Maybe she could get away with a little arson, as a treat.

-------------------------

Alpha-17 prided himself on not training idiots. His ARCs were some of the stubbornest, smartest troopers in the GAR, and his command cadets were the best of the best. The two marshal commanders that came from that batch was evidence enough of that.

Which is why he was so angry now. One of his vod’ika had made a mistake. Not unusual, and not something that he’d usually be so livid about. But this was a sloppy mistake, one that could’ve been avoided if a little more care had been taken. If the cloners found out, he’d be decommed for sure.

“17.” Fordo cleared his throat, trying to not look as if he wasn’t worried about a potential diplomatic incident. “They’ve been cleared to land.”

All his brother got in response was a grunt as 17 marched out the door of the barracks and down the hall. Any trooper that he saw quickly got out of his way, and good thing, too. He didn’t feel like dealing with chatty vod’ika’s today.

He made it to the hangar just in time to watch the ship land. There was a slight jostle on the front gears, which meant that Oddball was piloting. The ramp lowered, and the group made their way down.

Kenobi spotted him immediately, probably because of force-osik or whatever. He made his way across the bay faster than any non-clone had a right to. “Hello, 17. To what do I owe the pleasure of this welcoming party?”

“Not here for you, Kenobi.” His visor stayed trained on his target. She had stiffened as soon as she had set foot on the deck. Interesting. Most of the time nat-borns didn’t know they were being watched.

The general followed his line of sight. “You’ve heard then. About Fox and Sabé.”

17 nodded, tracking the women’s movements. There were seven, so if this ended in a confrontation it wouldn’t be the best odds, but then again he had always liked a challenge. And Senator Amidala seemed to be able to hold her own in a fight. Wait. Her gait had changed since the last time he had seen her. It was less graceful, more…waddle-y. And her dress poofed out around her stomach area. She usually wore tighter clothing on missions.

“17,” the jedi hesitantly said, looking between him and the handmaidens, “I think that there’s something you need to know-”

“Amidala’s pregnant.”

“What?” Kenobi stammered. “How did you – You know what? Nevermind. I don’t even want to know.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “You should know, though, that Sabé-”

“Isn’t pregnant.” He brought his hands behind his back, frowning when the woman in question turned and spotted him. She said something to the senator and began to make her way over. “It’s a con. Force knows why.”

“To draw attention away from Padmé, and to make sure that she can get proper medical care...discreetly.” Kenobi sighed. “If news got out to the press that she was pregnant. Force, if they found out who the father is.”

17 raised an eyebrow, knowing that Kenobi would feel it through the force. “It’s Skywalker. Obviously.”

That, at least, got an eye roll from the jedi. “Well, you haven’t changed.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” His frown returned as the Chief Handmaiden got closer. “She’s short.”

“I think she could take you.”

With a barked laugh, Alpha rested his hands on his belt. “Really? She’s the size of the cadets.”

“I’ve known Chief Sabé Veruna for over a decade. Do you want to know how I held my own so well when we sparred?” He paused for a heartbeat. “It was because I first sparred with her.”

By this time, Sabé had reached them. She was unafraid, 17 would give her that. Putting her hands on her hips, she tilted her head up so that she could see him. Obligingly, he tilted his head down. “You must be Alpha-17.”

“And you must be Chief Veruna.” He pointed stared at her stomach. “Nice prosthetic.”

17 expected her to flounder. He expected her to at least gasp in shock or something. Instead, she bared her teeth and laughed. “Fox was right. I bet you have a dossier on me and everything.”

He frowned. This was a strange nat-born, and he considered his threshold of strangeness very high since he worked with Kenobi. “Would that make you upset?”

The woman just shrugged. “Not really, considering I have one on you, too. We also knew that Ponds would let the tooka out of the bag eventually. I assume you came down here to read me the riot act about getting pregnant with Fox’s baby when it could get him decommed?”

“I did.”

“We figured you would do that.” She put her hands behind her back in a move that was eerily reminiscent of Fox. “The only people that know about our relationship are you, the command batch, Obi-wan, and the handmaidens. The others in the senate don’t care about the clones, which is a point in our favor in this one instance.

“We’re currently spreading a rumor in the Senate that I’m involved with a childhood boyfriend who came to Coruscant for a few months for a research project before going back to Naboo. It’s one of Versé’s better fake identities, I must say.”

Her teeth bared themselves again. “Even if someone does somehow find out that my ‘secret lover’ is Fox, we can get enough blackmail on them to ensure their silence or discredit everything they ever have or ever will say. Fox is safe, Captain. I promise.”

“I’m going to need you to keep the fact that my pregnancy is fake a secret.” The Chief frowned. “If the press finds out about Padmé and Anakin, the entire clone rights movement will implode.”

17 nodded. “Alright, but on one condition.”

Sabé’s eyes narrowed. “What is it?”

“Kenobi says that you used to spar with him.”

“Used to wipe the floor with his jedi butt, you mean,” she interrupted with a glance at the jedi in question.

The general buried his face in his hands. “It’s not my fault that I grew up fighting like a civilized person.”

“Biting is a perfectly valid strategy as long as you’re not up against a wookie,” she shot back. Then, she turned her attention back to 17. “So you want to spar?”

“I do.”

“Clone rules?”

“Obviously.”

“Alright,” she said with a nod, “but you’re going to have to keep any bruising on my face down to a minimum. It would raise too many questions.”

“Understood.” They began to make their way to the doors, only for 17 to stop. “Kenobi, keep up.”

For the first time since he had known him, the jedi sounded like he was whining. “Why are you pulling me into this mess?”

Sabé answered for him. “Because we need someone to referee. Now hurry up, we only have a few hours before you ship out again.”

Kenobi shook his head but dutifully made his way to them. “The force must have a sense of humor for bringing the two of you into my life.”

“Please, Obes,” Sabé said with a wicked grin, “you know you love us.”

“I don’t know about that,” he and 17 answered at the same time, only to realize what had happened and blush. Well, Kenobi blushed. 17 hadn’t had an emotion in his life, and no one could prove otherwise.

“You do.” She started walking again. “Now come on, time’s wasting.”

They made it to the Alpha’s training room in record time, but that didn’t stop them from having an audience. “What are you doing here?” 17 growled.

Fordo shrugged unrepentantly. “I heard what was going on and wanted to watch.”

Taking off her outer layers and laying them next to the wall, Sabé grinned. “The more the merrier, I always say.” She ripped off the pregnancy prosthetic and took a deep breath. “Force I hate that thing.”

“Nat-borns are strange,” Fordo quietly whispered to 17.

Not quietly enough, apparently, since Kenobi leaned over and answered, “Just these ones. I promise the rest of us are normal.”

“Don’t lie to the man, Obes.” Sabé had finished, now in a tank top and compression shorts. She did a few stretches and then walked over. “You’re just as crazy as the rest of us. Now get ready to ref.”

“Fine,” he said with an eyeroll, but the smile curling the edge of his mouth betrayed his feelings. “Just try not to kill each other.”

“I thought you were here to keep us from doing that,” 17 cracked his knuckles and took off his last piece of armor. “You ready, Chief?”

She cracked her neck in response. “Let’s do this.”

They fell into a ready stance, waiting for the other to make the first move. Sabé didn’t have to wait for long. 17 tried to use his height and weight to his advantage, doing his best to get her into a grapple hold. Too bad she wasn’t going to make it that easy.

Ducking under his hand, she reached up, grabbed his arm, and swung up to where she sat on his shoulders. It was a risky move, dependent on the strength of the opponent’s arm to give her the right amount of leverage, but she had gambled on 17 being as strong as Fox, and it paid off.

17 fell backward, trying to squish her instead of wrangling her off. Halfway down, though, Sabé twisted with all of her might and 17 fell on his shoulder, instead. He should’ve fell on his stomach, but stupid clones and their stupid advanced training and all that.

Leg now pinned under the alpha clone, Sabé had to settle on trying to choke him out with her thighs while he attempted to pry her off. After about a minute of this, Sabé felt something tug on the back of her shirt, and suddenly she was hovering a foot in the air. 17 was in the same position opposite her.

“I think that’s enough,” Kenobi said, arms crossed and eyebrow raised. “Both of you have proven that you’re very capable. Now it’s time to behave like civilized individuals.”

Sabé glanced at Obi-wan, then turned to 17. “You wanna know how to get out of a force hold like this?”

“Sure.”

She then flipped, spinning so quickly that Kenobi couldn’t keep his grip on her shirt. 17 followed suit a second later.

Sabé grinned ferally from where she had landed on the floor. “You know, Obes, it’s been forever since we last got to spar.”

“I could say the same,” 17 said from the other side.

“Force help me,” the jedi groaned. “There’s two of them now.” Then, he did the smart thing and ran out of the room.

Fordo whistled. “Both of you had leaky growth tubes. There’s no other explanation.”

They ignored him. 17 didn’t smile, but he did look at Sabé with a little less suspicion. “I see why Fox likes you.”

“And I see where he got his stubbornness from.” She moved back to the wall, strapping on the prosthetic again with a sigh. “Most people pass out within 20 seconds in that hold.”

“Mmmm.” He came up behind her, offering a water bottle as a truce. “Take care of him, alright? I’ve been hearing and seeing things I don’t like. The ARC-candidates from the Guard are ostracized from the start of training, but that doesn’t stop them from being the best. They take everything I throw at them and act like they saw it in the first year of sims. I don’t like it.”

She finished dressing and began to work on her hair. “We’re doing what we can to help, but it’s bad. Better since we’ve been able to smuggle them rations and medical supplies, but still bad.”

Sabé turned to face 17, grim determination on her face. “But we’re not going to stop until you’re all free.”

“Big plans from such a small woman.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Small dreams for such a big man.”

He chuckled then slapped Sabé’s shoulder. “Oh, you remind me of Fox, alright. Bet the two of you are terrors on triple zero.”

“The best.” She grinned, showing more teeth than necessary. “I’ll tell Fox you said hi.”

“And I’ll tell him he could do worse.”

Fordo piped in again from where he was watching the conversation like a championship bolo-ball match. “You approve? You’ve known her for five minutes.”

He was met with two identical eyebrow raises. “She’s a menace. Therefore, I like her.”

Before they could continue, Sabé’s comm pinged. She looked at it then sighed. “Well, it looks like General Boy Toy is leaving early. I’d better go tell him goodbye.”

“Boy toy?” 17 asked, head tilted.

“Ask Obi-wan about it the next time you see him.” A mischievous light danced in the Chief’s eyes. “I’m sure he’d love to tell you about it. See you around, 17.”

“Stay alive, Chief.” When the door closed, he quietly added, “For Fox’s sake.”