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Present Time - 02:13 Coruscant Standard Time
Commander Fox was having a day. This was unfortunate for everyone involved. The Coruscant Guard barracks buzzed with low conversation, flickering holoscreens, and the constant movement of clone officers coordinating citywide security rotations. Normally, Fox thrived in this environment. But today?
Today he had: intercepted three unauthorized Senate access requests to clone medical files, caught a Republic Intelligence officer trying to bypass encryption, slept approximately forty minutes total, and personally assisted with two chip removal surgeries because the Guard’s medics were overwhelmed.
So by the time the priority Chancellor transmission came through, Fox was already dangerously close to becoming a problem.
A Guard comm officer, Tinkerer, looked up from his station carefully. “Commander?”
Fox didn’t look away from the datapad in his hands. “What.”
“Priority transmission from the Chancellor’s office.”
Silence. Then several nearby Corries visibly slowed what they were doing. Because everyone knew what that meant lately.
Fox finally looked up. “…Again?”
“Yes, sir.”
Fox stared at the ceiling for a long moment, thinking deeply about violence.
“Patch it through.”
The comm officer obeyed immediately and a polished hologram flickered to life above the command table of Mas Amedda. Fox hated him.
“Commander CC-1010,” Mas Amedda greeted smoothly. “The Chancellor is requesting an immediate status update regarding Coruscant Guard medical activity.”
Fox blinked once. Very slowly. “Medical activity.”
“Yes.”
Fox leaned back in his chair, seemingly thinking very hard about something. “What medical activity.”
Several Guard troopers nearby immediately pretended not to listen. Very poorly at that, but thankfully off-screen. Thire, off to his left, bit his lip.
Mas Amedda smiled the way politicians did when they thought everyone else was stupid.“The neurological procedures currently being conducted under restricted clearance.”
Fox stared at him. Then deadpan: “Huh.”
There was a pause. Mas Amedda’s smile strained slightly, becoming less natural and more fixed. “…Commander?”
Fox turned towards Thire. “CC-4477.”
“Yes, sir?”
“Are we conducting neurological procedures?”
Thire caught on instantly. “Not that I know of, Commander.”
“Interesting.”
Several Corries were now visibly shaking with suppressed laughter, still thankfully offscreen.
Mas Amedda’s eye twitched. “The Chancellor requires clarification immediately.”
Fox nodded solemnly. “Makes sense. ...Unfortunately our systems are updating.”
Mas Amedda blinked, baffled. “…Updating.”
“Yes.”Fox checked a random screen that definitely was not updating. “Very tragic timing, it appears.”
Across the room, one clone physically walked behind a pillar to avoid laughing out loud.
“The Chancellor’s request supersedes standard technical delays.”
Fox tilted his head. “Hm,” a pause, “Unfortunately, they are still updating.”
Mas Amedda inhaled slowly through his nose. “The Chancellor would like to speak with you personally.”
Fox considered this. Then decided he no longer cared, and asked: “Why.”
The room went dead silent. Every clone nearby froze completely. Because while Fox was usually blunt…. that was suicidal levels of blunt.
Mas Amedda looked momentarily stunned.“…Commander?”
Fox clarified calmly: “I do not understand why the Chancellor requires direct access to Guard medical operations.”A beat. “Even if the ones in question do not exist.”
And there it was. The thing nobody in the GAR was saying openly yet. The growing realization that the Chancellor’s interest in their health was suspicious itself.
Mas Amedda’s expression cooled significantly. “The Chancellor oversees the Republic military.”
Fox nodded once. “Of course.”Another pause, “But it has always been customary for clones to run our own medbays.”
Somewhere behind Fox, a clone, that sounded awfully like Commander Stone, made a strangled choking noise. Mas Amedda went very still. “The Chancellor insists.”
Fox looked thoughtful for exactly two seconds before agreeing. “Okay.” Everyone in the room blinked.
Mas Amedda’s expression smoothed out and he nodded. “Thank you Commander.” Then he winked out of existence as the dial tone for the Chancellor began to ring.
Fox pointed toward the comm station. “Put him on hold.” Absolute silence took over the room.
Tinkerer stared. “…Sir?”
“Did I stutter.”
“No, sir.”
“Great. Put him on hold.”
Tinkerer obeyed with the slow, reverent terror of a man witnessing history. A soft tone sounded, before an automated voice read out: “One caller on standby.”
The Chancellor of the Galactic Republic had officially been put on hold by Commander Fox. No one moved. No one dared to breathe. Then Commander Stone whispered: “…Holy shit.”
Fox calmly returned to his datapad. “Next issue.”
A corrie raised his hand carefully. “Sir… how long are we planning to keep the Chancellor on hold.”
Fox checked the time. Then shrugged. “Until I finish paperwork.” The entire room stared at him in awe and mild horror.
Eleven Minutes Later - 02:24 CST
The hold music was still playing faintly through the comm system.
Another Corrie approached cautiously. “…Commander?”
“Yes.”
“The Chancellor’s office is asking if we disconnected accidentally.”
Fox didn’t even look up. “Don’t answer.”
“…Sir?”
Fox raised an eyebrow. “I said what I said, Bolt.”
The trooper, Bolt, physically turned away so nobody would see him laughing.
Thirteen Minutes Later - 02:37 CST
Quinlan Vos walked into headquarters mid-conversation and immediately sensed the atmosphere before pausing.
“…Why is everyone acting like they’re engaged in activity more illegal than usual?”No one answered him.
Fox pointed at the still-active Chancellor transmission. “He’s on hold.”
Vos stared. “Fox, that’s the Chancellor.”
“Yes, I’m pleased to note you have eyes still.”
“For how long exactly?”
Fox checked the clock. “Twenty-four minutes.”
Quinlan burst out laughing so hard he had to grab the wall.
“You absolute menace,” he cackled.
Fox looked genuinely confused. “I’m busy.”
Twenty-Four Minutes Later - 03:01 CST
The hold music finally cut off and the entire barracks straightened instinctively. The hologram flickered and Chancellor Palpatine himself appeared above the comm table.
“Commander CC-1010.”
Fox looked up from his datapad with the exact amount of urgency one might show a weather report. “Chancellor.”
Palpatine’s expression remained perfectly warm and perfectly composed. Only someone deeply familiar with predators would have noticed the tension underneath it. So Fox noticed immediately.
“I have been attempting to contact your command center regarding unusual medical activity amongst clone forces.”
Fox tilted his head slightly. “…Medical activity.”
“Yes. Restricted neurological procedures, specifically.”
The room went even quieter than it already was. That is to say, it was absolutely silent.
Every corrie nearby suddenly became extremely invested in pretending they could not hear a single word. One Corrie began cleaning the same rifle for the fourth time. Another stared at a blank screen with religious intensity. Quinlan Vos looked moments away from ascending into another plane of existence trying not to laugh.
Fox leaned back in his chair thoughtfully. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean, Chancellor.”
Palpatine held his gaze. “The procedures occurring aboard multiple GAR vessels.”
Fox frowned slightly like he was genuinely trying to help. “Well that sounds serious.”
“Yes,” Palpatine said carefully. “It does.”
Fox nodded. “I’ll definitely let you know if we discover anything like that.”
Commander Thire, who was nearest to the table physically choked on air.
Palpatine’s smile did not move, but it became a lot more fixed. “Commander, reports indicate significant increases in encrypted transfers between battalions.”
Fox looked down at his datapad, and tapped something randomly. “Huh,” another pause, “Looks normal to me.”
Quinlan covered his mouth and turned away so fast he nearly slammed into a wall.
“The Coruscant Guard has also denied multiple Senate inquiries.”
Fox answered instantly: “Correct.”
“Why.”
“Security.”
“What kind of security.”
Fox looked mildly puzzled. “The secure kind.”
The room’s collective emotional state was deteriorating rapidly. Several Corries had hands over their mouths or were staring resolutely at the ceiling as if that could prevent them from bursting into laughter
Palpatine’s eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly. “You are aware that the Chancellor’s office has authority over Republic military operations.”
Fox nodded once. “Of course.”
“Then you understand my concern.”
“Certainly.” A beat. “I’m concerned too.”
Palpatine paused. “…About what.”
Fox gestured vaguely. “Whatever hypothetical medical situation you seem to believe exists.”
Commander Stone made a sound suspiciously like a suppressed sob.
Palpatine studied Fox carefully now. Really carefully. “There appears to be a communication failure somewhere in your command structure.”
Fox nodded solemnly. “Yes, sir.”
“Can it be corrected.”
“My men are working on it.”
“And how long will that take exactly.”
Fox checked the time. Then another screen. Then shrugged. “Hard to say.”
Palpatine’s voice cooled by a fraction. “Commander CC-1010.”
“Yes, Chancellor?”
“If there were unauthorized medical procedures occurring within the GAR…” A pause. “…you would inform me immediately, wouldn’t you?”
The entire room froze. Because there it was. The closest Palpatine could get to admitting knowledge without exposing himself. Fox met his gaze evenly. And for a moment, the barracks became terrifyingly still.
Then Fox said calmly: “Of course Chancellor. And it’s a good thing there aren’t any.”
Palpatine stared at him. Fox stared back.
Quinlan, in Fox’s peripherals, was visibly turning red trying not to laugh.
Finally, Palpatine smiled again. But this time it was thin and sharp around the edges. “I see.”
Fox nodded politely. “Glad we cleared that up.”
Another long pause. Then Palpatine asked: “Why was I placed on hold for forty-three minutes.”
Fox answered immediately. “System updates.”
“What systems.”
“All of them.”
A nearby trooper physically bent over a desk in silent agony. Palpatine looked like he wanted to reach through the hologram and strangle someone. Unfortunately for him, Fox had spent years dealing with senators. His tolerance for passive aggression had evolved into a survival mechanism.
“I trust,” Palpatine said slowly, “that the Coruscant Guard remains loyal to the Republic.”
Fox’s expression didn’t change. “Always.” Which was true. Terrifyingly true. The clones had been meant for the Jedi to save the galaxy. But the galaxy was not the Senate, nor Palpatine. But it was true. Just not in the way Palpatine meant anymore.
Palpatine held his gaze another moment. Searching. Testing. Trying to determine how much the clones knew.How coordinated this had become. How badly things were slipping from his control. Fox gave him nothing. Just calm professionalism.
Finally the Chancellor inclined his head slightly. “Very well, Commander.”
“Chancellor.”
The transmission ended. The silence that had fallen over the barracks only lasted until they heard the call end tone. The second the hologram disappeared the entire barracks detonated.
One trooper slammed both hands over his helmet and wheezed. Another collapsed fully into a chair.
Someone in the back yelled: “HE ASKED WHAT SYSTEMS.”
Quinlan Vos was fully crying laughing now. Fox looked around the room, faintly judgmental. “You’re all being dramatic.”
Quinlan pointed at him helplessly. “You gaslit the Supreme Chancellor of the Republic to his face.”
Fox considered this. “…not really my first time.”
“That’s somehow better and worse!”
Fox shrugged and returned to his datapad calmly, completely unbothered to the fact that in front of him, the Coruscant Guard was losing their minds.
He’d protected the clones secret, and that was the most pressing thing. The clone commanders would be able to continue secretly coordinating chip removals across the GAR.
He knew there would be consequences. That was the thing about Commander Fox: he was not reckless. People often mistook his dry sarcasm and chronic exhaustion for fearlessness, but Fox understood danger extremely well. He lived in the political heart of the Republic. He dealt with corrupt senators, crime syndicates, assassins, and intelligence operatives on a weekly basis.
He knew how dangerous Chancellor Palpatine was. Maybe not Sith Lord controlling galactic events dangerous yet. But enough. Enough to understand that putting the Supreme Chancellor on hold for forty-three minutes and then lying to his face was not going to be forgotten.
He just decided it was worth it anyways. For the Republic, indeed.