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Fox sacrifices protecting his Guard to protect the Vode above all else.
Even if he has to hurt his own men. The ones who carried him through the war. Dishonoring the memory of the brothers who died under his command. He was going to do it. But still, saving the GAR from this particular fate instead of saving his own corps felt like betrayal. He didn’t expect forgiveness in death. He didn’t deserve it.
Fox stared at the data pad. It had been over a thousand rotations on this planet called the Heart of the Republic and each one of them had felt like spiraling deeper into a void.
He had come to terms to never seeing an end to this war, to never receiving the support of the people they were created to guard, to be a face shared with millions of men so forgettable they never bothered to show it in their propaganda.
Fox always assumed he would march on with the knowledge he did everything in his powers - limited as they were - to create a current washing his brothers ashore when he would eventually drown. His lungs were already refusing to draw a deep breath with the realization that he would drag them to the bottom of the ocean with him.
There was no good or bad choice, only consequences someone would have to bear. The only way out for anyone was through. There was no time to craft a plan and wasn’t that ironic, the Marshal Commander with contingency plans for contingency plans had not prepared for this. He really didn’t deserve to lead the home front. His troops would turn it into a battle field.
He read the list of orders programmed into every vod’s brain one last time before hitting an unassuming little button in the bottom right corner of his com. That was all it took to sign the Guard‘s death sentence.
── ⟢ ・⸝⸝
Quinlan Vos had come to know the Guard as an integral part of Coruscant‘s security forces. They had filled the gaps when more and more Jedi were called away to the war front which was spanning to the furthest corners of the Outer Rim by now. They had communicated with the Temple Guard despite the Temple being out of their jurisdiction. They had tried to create and hold up a network of support.
It was obvious the clones cared about the natborns, about the force sensitive beings, about the stray tookas and massiffs inhabiting Coruscant. They cared about protecting civilians and did an outstanding job guarding those who saw themselves above them. The commanders were courteous, competent and closed off - by extension their troops were efficient but evasive when approached about internal matters.
Similarly Quinlan hadn‘t any place on the stage filled with too many actors trying to outshine eachother. As a Jedi Shadow he didn’t show up to solve a conflict and save the day. Sometimes he even instigated it. But he had dug deeper into the scripts the wide audience was unaware of playing out in front of their eyes. He had build connections.
When he had first dropped into CC-1010‘s office unannounced and uninvited the man had almost shot him with a blaster set to stun. Without the force and anticipating this kind of warm welcome from studying the Marshal Commander‘s demeanor in the field he was sure he wouldn’t have had a chance to get a word out before dropping to the floor.
Revealing his affiliation to the Jedi Order without detailing any of it further had turned a hostile greeting into a professional talk bargaining for information. Sharing intel and crafting contingency plans together turned into begrudging respect. One day Quinlan brought food to their meetings and was rewarded with a name. And that had been the start of a tentative friendship. Now Quinlan was about to lose one of his only friends.
── ⟢ ・⸝⸝
Bly stared at the holo screen depicting a fight he couldn’t make any sense of. The images weren’t flickering because of a weak connection to the central signals of the GAR on their side. The transmissions had been cut from the side of the home front before they had been able to reestablish communications. The blackout had lasted less than half a rotation. How did this happen in such a short time frame and why?
His General had felt a disturbance through the bond she shared with her Master shortly before the communications had cut. She reached out to another Jedi Bly had not heard her mention once before. So yes, he was a bit taken aback watching the image of an older man with dark hair pulled into a low ponytail comforting a clearly agitated Aayla. She trusted this man and in turn accepted his advice to trust that the force was prevalent to anything. Bly couldn’t understand the force. But he understood trust so he would follow Aayla‘s lead.
The man named Tholme encouraged her to follow its guidance instead of enacting a command from a war council. Bly wouldn’t agree but when the holos from Coruscant came to live on their control displays Aayla had taken one look at them, one look at Bly frozen up in his place next to her and charted course to Triple Zero.
── ⟢ ・⸝⸝
Fox opened his eyes slowly. He wouldn’t consider it waking up, his mind hadn’t caught up with his surroundings. He hadn’t expected to be here. He hadn’t expected to be alive. The last thing in his muddled thoughts he could clearly remember was cutting signals going out from Triple Zero just before his comm had activated without him picking up.
He tried to listen to his heart beat, surely it would rush the blood through his veins on high speed. Strangely it was hard to notice it. A hand grapped his forearm and when the fuck had he lost his vambrace? His head snapped towards the hand and it’s clear to him the person holding on to him isn’t one of his brothers. Still some kind of recognition sparked in his heart and he drifted off once more.
── ⟢ ・⸝⸝
The moment they enter her orbit and descent to Coruscant air space the pressure felt unbearable. Bly started drumming his fingers on his thigh plate, eyes never leaving the view outside the ship‘s windows.
The Temple belied little of the battle that had taken place on its grounds. There was some rubble and stains on its warm stones but it didn’t feel as monumental as it should. It didn’t reflect the gravitY of the Coruscant Guard trying to storm it not even three rotations ago. The 327th was the first battalion to make it planetside after this betrayal.
Aayla projected a calm Bly was sure she didn’t feel. She had told him over a shared meal she knew Quinlan was alive but she still felt a sense of loss. He hadn’t know how to comfort her and he still didn’t. Her companionship always anchored him so he hoped he was at least able to return the favor.
When they finally had their boots on the ground both of them rushed into the direction of the Halls of Healing. Aayla all but ran to a cot tucked out of view and Bly stayed close behind. First he registered the vod’s missing hand. Then he registered his gaunt build. It took another second to register the red hue to the dark curls matted to ashen skin.
Just as Aayla reached out to the man slumped in a chair next to the cot Bly reached out to his brother. He was alive. They hadn’t killed him for his treason to the Republic and the Jedi. His fingers clamped down on Fox‘s shoulder and he was overcome with the urge to shake him awake.
Taking a deep breath he looked up to the pair on the opposite site of the cot and noticed the Kiffar awake. The man smiled at Aayla in a way that made him look more alive than any other of the few times the Star Corps Marshal Commander had seen him. His long locks were tied back from his face, only a few strands coming lose to frame an exhausted face. Bly spotted a read bead in one of them. He would needle Fox for details later.
── ⟢ ・⸝⸝
On paper the vode had been lucky, the Republic had won. But many of the Guard had been killed during the attack of the Temple. And they couldn’t hate the Jedi for defending themselves. They could mourn the loss and harbor the guilt of being unable to cut the strings puppeting them. They could blame themselves and the Commander who had chosen to protect other vode above them.
Logically it made sense to prioritize the GAR. There were millions of vode deployed and only thousands of them planetside. The Jedi in the Temple had been warned by one of their Shadows. There simply hadn’t been enough time to destroy external and internal communications as this shouldn’t even be possible to begin with. Of course the Guard had direct contact to the Supreme Chancellor and cutting it would have alarmed him. The order had come too soon for Fox to warn his Commanders and troops too.
A split decision had probably turned the Galaxy’s fate in their favor but they would never be able to follow Fox blindly again. Trust once broken can never be the same. Thorn had been the one who they had turned to in their confusion. Thorn had been the one to hold them together even when Fox figured out a way to defend their crimes. They didn’t receive a death sentence for being stripped of what little autonomy they had before and being used as a weapon. Still Fox wasn’t their shield anymore.
Fox had never believed in making it through the war. He had never planned for a future. Thorn had always hold on to the thought of getting time to share his life with his closest brother. Now he let go of that hope. They had won the war but still lost each other.
Leaving the flimsi note on Fox bedside in the Halls of Healing Thorn walked away and never looked back. The Guard was his to protect now.
── ⟢ ・⸝⸝
„For old times sake and sentiment, for the love I once held for you and the honor to once have been loved by you: I will cherish the time we had. And not resent the time we lost.”