Chapter Text
Fox had grown annoyingly accustomed to being sedated and kidnapped. It was rather part and parcel of belonging to a Sith Lord, and far better than the alternative of not being allowed to leave him.
Which didn't mean it wasn't still an inconvenience and a half. Not the sedatives themselves, though they did always leave an annoying aftertaste in his mouth and leave the weirdest muscles sore. No, the annoyance was really in how Sidious went about alerting him it was time for the kidnapping.
"Head for the spaceport now," Fox said, gritting his teeth against the wave of compulsions that had just washed over him. This was the most efficient route to Sidious, but he had to keep mentally repeating the fact to muscles that wanted to spring into action without any of his conscious input.
"What?" Thorn glanced over from his driver seat in the speeder. "Fox, we're halfway to the ice cream parlor, and they close in- oh."
"Thorn," Fox said, mentally chanting 'it's faster this way, it's faster this way,' to the compulsions which were rapidly growing physically painful as the speeder moved not towards the port. "You're a faster driver than me. That means convincing you to drive me to the spaceport is technically faster than me tackling you out of the driver's seat and making a beeline for it. Neither of us want me to have to do that, so it would be great if the arguing part could not take that long."
Thorn looked deeply unconvinced, but did turn the speeder around and start navigating the other way through Coruscant's traffic. The compulsion in Fox's head lessened its death grip slightly, for which he was grateful. "Sidious again?" Thorn asked.
"No," Fox said sarcastically, with much greater control of his speech now that he was actually headed the right direction."It's the other Sith Lord capable of putting direct compulsions in my head at a whim."
A moment later, Fox was on the floor of the speeder, in blinding pain. Sidious apparently hadn't appreciated the joke.
"Fox!" Thorn was alarmed, but fortunately hadn't stopped navigating the speeder. If he had, Fox would've been forced to get up and make him.
"It's nothing," Fox said, trying for reassuring but not quite able to surpress a hint of pain from his tone. It still fucking hurt. "He's just a bit tetchy at the moment, it seems. It was a joke, Master. I apologize."
Thorn's grip was white on the speeder's controls. He really should be paying more attention to the traffic, Fox's compulsion helpfully informed him. If they crashed, Fox would likely be taken to the hospital, which would be an unacceptable detour on the way to Sidious.
"He's listening in?" Thorn asked, voice tightly controlled.
Fox shrugged awkwardly, trying to right his position. "Seemingly. Not too common as far as I'm aware; he must be impatient this time."
Thorn didn't respond to this. Maybe he didn't know what to say; more likely, he didn't want Sidious to hear it. A wasted effort, of course, but then again if Sidious really was as impatient as all that, he might not bother directly overhearing for too long. He could always peruse the memories later if he was interested.
"I'm glad to at least know you're leaving," Thorn said eventually, after about two dozen cases of Fox clenching every muscle in his body to keep himself yelling at Thorn to 'drive faster before I make you.'
"Don't get used to it," Fox said dully. "I'm under the same rules as ever. It just so happens that currently the fastest way to get to him is to tell you where I'm going. Thank you for cooperating, by the way. I really wouldn't like what I'd be forced to do otherwise."
It really was lucky that Thorn was a faster driver than Fox. Sidious, as in all things, was an asshole in how he went about summoning Fox. Physical compulsions — ones that could, with extreme effort, be reasoned with, but were physically impossible to outright ignore — always demanded that Fox drop absolutely everything as soon as he received the summons, and take the fastest route to his rendezvous point. Given that Fox never got any warning about the fact, the results were … inconvenient.
Fox couldn't cook food unattended. Sidious usually only called every few months, but he might do so while Fox was in the kitchen. If he did so, Fox wouldn't be able to turn off the stove or oven in his mad dash towards the exit. Fox tried to avoid locked rooms, in case getting the key turned out to be slower than breaking a window or door hinge. He could never, ever be trusted to babysit (though Fox never did so for other reasons, either. He didn't dare form attachments to anything as fragile as a child. Sidious could always take an interest one day.)
Really, it was remarkable how much an event that only took place sporadically, often months apart, could restructure Fox's life. Which was the point, of course. Sidious didn't want to bother with Fox most of the time, but he delighted in every possible way to remind Fox that he was owned. It would do absolutely no one any harm for Fox to have a few minutes warning before he had to leave, but Sidious was just plain anti-considerate like that.
(Fortunately, the bond seemed to accept 'putting on clothes' as an acceptable activity insofar as it made him presentable for Sidious. This was appreciated, as Fox had in fact been summoned while in the 'fresher.)
Which left him here. One of the few times where the path of most efficiency actually allowed Fox to tell his brothers where he was going. Fox ought to be grateful for it, but really it just made the whole process feel that much more invasive. Yes, Thorn actually knew what was happening, instead of being forced to deduce it from Fox's sudden unexplained absence. But the face that Fox might have been forced to hurt Thorn in some way, that Fox had to see Thorn's face and know he was upset, had to make Thorn complicit in Fox's kidnapping…
Well, it hardly mattered that Fox didn't like it. It wasn't as if he had any say in the matter. At least he'd be sedated soon, and delivered to the tender mercies of his Sith master.
Fox woke from sedation as a fist slammed into his face.
Lifelong instincts took instant hold. He was prone, there was a hand over his face and someone larger than him was pulling back their other arm for a second strike-
Fox bit down as hard as he could, tasting blood. The hand withdrew, leaving him just enough time to duck the incoming blow. He noted the sluggishness of his muscles as he did so — thirty seconds from now that would wear off, but thirty seconds would be too late. He rolled to avoid yet another punch, aimed a kick for the attacker's solar plexus and missed — the attacker was fast-
The bite, at least, had bought him a moment's reprieve. The attacker (who had already hit him several times, if the blossoming pain in his cheek and ribs were any indication) was now aware Fox was a dangerous target, rather than a passive one. He pulled back slightly, and Fox was able to get to a more defensible position than simply lying on the ground-
The attacker tackled him. A blur of movement, and Fox was able to roll with the strike but he still ended up back on the ground almost as soon as he'd risen. Now he was pinned more securely, but he could still knee the hostile in the groin, confirming their anatomy by the sound of pain he elicited. A victory, then, but one he paid for a moment later as another punch landed on his chest, definitively cracking a few ribs. Strong and fast, and Fox was at a disadvantage to begin with.
Still, he was a clone. He'd been trained from decanting in how to fight. Even if his recent training had all been in suppressing those instincts, accepting pain and punishment without the slightest resistance, he still knew what to do. A sharp jab, a feint, another grunt of pain from his attacker-
Then something constricted around Fox's throat, and he froze.
Fox knew half a dozen ways to get out of a chokehold. An enemy, even a strong one, with a hand around his throat was a recipe for a broken thumb and a fresh bout of fighting.
There was no hand around Fox's throat. Just empty air, squeezing closed around his airway.
Force user.
Shit.
It took a moment — far, far too long — for Fox to remember he was allowed to fight back. This wasn't Sidious, he didn't need to go limp and pliant the moment the Force reached out to hurt him-
Fox was running out of air. He needed to fight back. He needed to fight back because Sidious had summoned him. Fox needed to get to his Master because that was his purpose. To fall here would be to disobey-
Frantically, Fox reached out with the Bond. It wouldn't matter, Fox had less than a minute to live, even Sidious couldn't get here that quickly, and Fox didn't even know where 'here' was. But he had to try. He had to try, because he couldn't free himself. He was going to die. He was going to fail his Master-
"Enough."
The word was plain, inflection flat, voice as familiar to Fox as his own. Fox could have sobbed at the sound of it.
The Force choke released. Fox collapsed bonelessly to the ground, gasping and coughing for breath.
"Come here, pet."
Even in his current state, exhausted, half-choked, ribs broken and mind still muddled from sedatives, Fox raised himself from the ground to obey.
But something was wrong. The words hadn't been meant for Fox. Instead, his attacker rose, approaching the hooded figure behind them. In all the panic, Fox hadn't managed to get a good look at him yet, but he could be seen clearly now.
"Well done, Savage."
The yellow zabrak went ungracefully to his knees. Kneeling in Fox's place, at his Master's side.
"Now tell me, Fox," said Darth Sidious, finally looking at Fox's crumpled form. "How do you like my newest toy?"