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Where many, clones and natborn alike, thought that being part of the Coruscant Guard was a cushy job and that the members of this garrison only did desk work, safely on Coruscant far from the front lines, the reality was quite different.
Because perhaps, in fact, the members of the Coruscant Guard weren't fighting Separatist droids all day long, but they were responsible for maintaining peace on Coruscant and therefore dealt with all the crime associated with the size of this city-planet. But even that wasn't the most complicated part. No, the most difficult part of their job was that they worked all day with Senators who, for the most part, had absolutely no regard for them.
Being treated like dirt, not even human, and being disrespected all day long was the hardest part. Being spat on, insulted, pushed, and yelled at without having the right to respond or even react—that was the toughest part.
There were thankfully a few Senators who respected them and treated them as the living sentient beings they were, such as Senators Padmé Amidala of Naboo, Mon Mothma of Chandrila or Bail Organa of Alderaan, but they were few.
Furthermore, unlike the other GAR battalions, the Coruscant Guard did not have a Jedi General to guide them, which meant they depended directly on the Senate, on the Chancellor, without any Jedi to intervene when their rights were violated.
This is partly why the transfer and mortality rates were so high in the Guard. Because if a Senator was dissatisfied with a clone's service, they could request, and even demand, its transfer or decommissioning.
That's how Commander Thire died after two years of war.
At the very beginning of the war, during a mission on Rugosa with Jedi General Yoda, he was wounded in the leg, and despite the medics' care, he never fully recovered and retained a slight limp and sometimes significant pain at the end of a long day. And since days were almost always very long when you were part of the Coruscant Guard, even more so at the rank of Lieutenant, then Commander, like him, Thire very often suffered from severe, debilitating pain.
Sometimes the pain was so intense that he could barely walk.
On Coruscant more than anywhere else, the slightest weakness could be enough to get you decommissioned, so Thire did what he could to hide his pain. He took as many painkillers as their medic was willing to give him, and for the rest, he gritted his teeth and endured as best he could.
His brothers quickly learned the extent of his pain, and together they did what they could to adjust his schedule as much as possible, scheduling his shifts for the morning when the pain was least intense. And when the pain became too severe and prevented him from getting up in the morning, Stone, Thorn, Hound, and even sometimes Fox himself would cover for him.
This system, although not ideal, worked for a little over two years.
But without being able to truly rest his leg and lacking access to the necessary equipment and care, Thire's leg didn't improve with time; quite the opposite. After two years, he had reached a point where simply getting up was a struggle most days. He did it anyway—he had no choice—but it was becoming increasingly difficult. And even though he tried to hide it, it showed. It showed in the barracks, but especially in the Senate, when he was working.
Thire did what he could to offer the best possible service under these conditions, but like everything the clones did, it was never enough for those damned Senators.
That's how Thire ended up being summoned to Commander Fox's office.
"You asked to see me, Fox?" Thire asked as he entered, hoping the discussion wouldn't go where he thought it might go.
Fox's long, heavy sigh told him that yes, that was the direction they were heading.
"Sit down, Thire," Fox invited, his voice weary.
Thire limped to the offered chair and slumped down into it with a small sigh of relief when he took the weight off his aching leg.
Ordinarily, even when he was just with his brothers, he tried to hide his pain as much as possible, but it was useless with Fox, the Commander knowing immediately when he was lying; and then, given the likely subject of the discussion, he was no longer concerned about it.
"I don't like it any more than you do, but unfortunately I have to." Fox sighed.
"I know, vod. And I think I know what you want to tell me." Thire reassured him.
Fox raised his head slightly and raised an eyebrow, his face closed off but devastated at the same time.
Thire guessed. “I'm going to be decommissioned, aren't I?”
Fox sighed again, pinching the bridge of his nose. "How did you come to that conclusion?" He asked, tiredly.
Thire shrugged. “It's the logical next step. As soon as I was injured and it became clear I'd never fully recover, I knew that's how I'd end up. Honestly, I'm surprised I lasted this long. And with the relentless pace and the looks I get when I'm in the Senate, I suppose you've already received several requests for my removal from office, haven't you?”
Fox sighed deeply and inclined his head forward, as if dejected, and faintly nodded.
"How much?" Thire wanted to know, in a somewhat morbid way.
“Five. Two of them since the beginning of the week. I… I tried to postpone it as much as possible, to change your schedule and adjust your tasks, but I… I can't anymore—” Fox paused to swallow the tears that were welling up in his eyes.
Unfortunately, it wasn't the first time he'd had to do this, decommission one of his brothers just because some horrible Senator had asked him to, but it never got any easier.
Even when the vod in question was as understanding as Thire. “Hey, Fox, it’s going to be okay. I promise not to be difficult and not to tell anyone. I knew this was going to happen sooner or later, I’m just grateful to have spent the last two years by your side. I know it’s going to be tough, but I know you’ll get through this.” The younger man tried to reassure him, leaning over the desk and placing what he hoped was a comforting hand on his boss’s trembling shoulder.
Fox nodded and allowed himself a few more minutes before raising his head and looking at his Commander. “You're leaving at the end of the week. I know it's hard, but try not to tell the others too much.”
Thire nodded. “Is my decommissioning official or did they simply request a “killed in action”?”
"Killed in action." Fox replied through gritted teeth.
Thire nodded, thinking for a little while before nodding again. “It will be easier to explain to others.”
Fox nodded, but he still looked just as devastated.
"Was there anything else, vod?" Thire asked softly.
The Commander shook his head and Thire stood up, with Fox standing up in turn.
Thire stood at attention, proud and almost relaxed. “Commander Thire, CC-4477, pleased to have served in the Coruscant Guard. Not gone, merely marching away.”
Thire stayed just long enough for Fox to salute him in return and then slipped away discreetly, giving Fox some time to compose himself.
Thire used what little time he had left to organize his belongings—not that he had much. He couldn't tell his vode he knew he wouldn't be returning from this mission, but he could prepare what he had. So he wrote short notes for his closest brothers and hid them around his bunk, so they wouldn't be directly visible but would still be easily found by the poor Vod who would have to clean his bunk after his death.
Then, the day arrived, and Thire went to the rendezvous point for his mission, carrying his usual gear. He had the morbid satisfaction of seeing that he wasn't alone on the ship. He still felt a pang of sadness when he recognized Zoey, a Guard vod whose muscles had begun to atrophy a few months ago and who was finding it increasingly difficult to walk.
Deciding to spend his last journey in good company, Thire walked over to her and dropped down on the bench next to her.
"Zoey." he said simply.
“Commander Thire.” The vod replied, trying to stand up and come to attention.
"No need for all that effort, vod." Thire reassured her, placing a hand on her shoulder and stopping her from finishing his movement. "We're all going to the same place, no more ranks between us."
Zoey relaxed and slumped back against the wall of the ship. “You too, huh?”
“Unfortunately. My leg is giving me trouble, and it's become noticeable enough that my decommissioning has been requested. I'm honestly surprised I lasted this long.”
"Same here." Zoey sighed. "But oh well, that's how it is, and we're not going to change those idiotic Senators."
"Come on, Zoey, what language." Thire scoffed.
"What? It won't change anything now anyway, so we might as well let loose and say everything we've never been able to say. And what are they going to do? Decommission us? It's already happening." Zoey said, shrugging.
“Not wrong.”
The conversation ended there for the moment, and they soon left Coruscant, a dozen or so vode together, for their final mission. Destination: Kamino, the planet where they had been created, and the one on which they would be terminated.
However, they never arrived on Kamino because about an hour and a half after leaving Coruscant, they were approached by a group of Jedi, other Natborns, and Vode. This group, claiming to be members of the Hidden Path organization, revealed that they were not going to be decommissioned, but rather join their organization.
An organization that, since the beginning of the war, had been helping vode slated for decommissioning, hiding them on partner planets, meeting their needs, and providing them with the necessary medical assistance when necessary; all while awaiting the end of the war, when these troopers could "come back to life" when it was safe for them to do so. These vode were called "ghost vode."
Until now, they remained dead in everyone's eyes, and since the Senate and the Republic believed them dead, they could no longer harm them. Since the beginning of the war, the Path had thus saved several thousand troopers, who were now scattered across several planets, some near, some far.
The Hidden Path had been created by a few Jedi, mostly Shadows, who had witnessed the treatment of clones deemed "useless" and decided to do something about it. But changing the Senate's mind and enacting laws to protect clones was an extremely long and complicated process, so they decided to act by directly rescuing and hiding the clones who were about to be decommissioned.
That's how Thire ended up on the planet Maridun, where a colony of Ghost Vode had been established at the beginning of the war. The hundred or so clones on the planet worked effectively with the local population, the Lurmen, who held a great deal of sympathy for the Vode and the Jedi, ever since some of them had saved them from extinction at the hands of the Separatists. Living in complete isolation and having little contact with the rest of the galaxy, the Lurmens’ planet was ideal for hosting a Ghost Vode colony.
Upon arriving on Maridun, Thire spent a few days in the hands of medics to assess the condition of his leg and determine what care to provide, but also to find some aids, including mobility aids, that might be useful to him.
Thire had tried several things and concluded that using a brace provided better support for his leg, thus reducing fatigue and pain. When the pain became too intense, he used a cane to help him walk without putting his entire weight on his injured leg.
But what had really worked wonders for him was rest. Here, when he was tired or in too much pain, he could simply stop working, without it having dramatic consequences.
Anyway, Maridun was a paradise for Thire and the other ghost vode who were stationed there.
And then, a little over 6 months after his “death”, Thire received the best news in a long time.
And the news arrived with Peter, one of the smugglers who regularly brought them supplies and medical equipment.
"The war is over!" The young man announced, jumping out of his ship.
“What?”
“The war is over! The Chancellor is dead, but that's okay because he was actually the Sith Lord! Dooku was arrested earlier this week, Grievous is dead, and Maul is captured too. The Separatist Council surrendered easily, and negotiations are underway, but the war is over!”
The entire Maridun camp erupted in joy and Thire even felt a tear roll down his cheek.
“Do we know who killed the Chancellor?”
“Uh… a Corrie I think, but I don't quite remember who.”
"A member of the Guard?" Thire repeated, raising his head. "Who? A Commander?"
"I don't really remember." Peter apologized.
“Hound? Stone? Thorn? Fox?” Thire tried anyway, really wanting to know who had ended this horrible war.
"Fox!" Peter exclaimed, recognizing the name. "That's right, Commander Fox of the Coruscant Guard."
Thire felt another tear escape his eye. It was Fox. It was Fox who had ended it all. Thire honestly didn't know what had driven Fox to act, whether he had been aware of Palpatine's double identity or if he had simply snapped, unable to bear the horrible pressure the Corries endured every day, and had simply put a bullet in their awful boss's head.
Ultimately, it doesn't matter.
"Does this mean we can come back to life?" Zoey asked . She was now using a hoverchair to get around and it had done wonder for her energy levels.
"In a few days, yes." Peter replied. "The Shadows leading the Hidden Path first want to inform the Jedi Council of their existence and yours. From what I understand, we're not sure how the Senate will react upon learning you're all alive, so we want to be certain the Jedi are capable of welcoming you and defending you if necessary."
Thire groaned inwardly. He didn't want to wait; he wanted to get back to Coruscant now and hug his brother! But he also understood what Peter was saying. There was no point in coming back to life if they were going to be killed immediately anyway.
A few days passed, and when the Ghost Vode finally received confirmation that they would be protected if they wished to return to life, Thire boarded the first ship bound for Coruscant. He was eager to see his brothers again, even though he was somewhat apprehensive about the state he would find them in. Because while he himself had been able to rest and recharge during the past six months, he knew that this was not the case for those who were still officially alive.
Fox, above all, worried him immensely. When Thire had been decommissioned, Fox already seemed close to the end of his rope, so the young Commander barely dared imagine the state he would find his older brother in. But it didn't matter. The war was over now, and he could make sure Fox rested. Rested and healed from his trauma, just as Thire had begun to do.
And now that he knew what a little paradise the Vode colony on Maridun was, Thire wasn't afraid to kidnap some of his brothers and take them there to force them to rest. He hoped he wouldn't have to resort to that, but you never know.
A small group of around twenty Vode from Maridun had also decided to return quickly to Coruscant, and when they approached Coruscant, the atmosphere was much lighter and more impatient than the last time they had been in contact with that damned planet.
Their ship quickly and easily received permission to land, and Thire had to restrain himself from jumping up and down excitedly. He was finally going to see his brothers again! He hoped they wouldn't be too angry with him for faking his death when he was still alive, but there wasn't much he could do about it.
They finally landed, and as the ramp descended, Thire was assailed by the ambient noise of Coruscant and took a deep breath. He wasted no time, however, and descended with the other Ghost Vode who were with him.
Vode from almost all the Battalions, if their armor colors was anything to go by, were positioned all over the landing pads, informing the Vode who had just returned and directing them as needed to shuttles that could take them wherever they wanted.
For a moment, Thire was a little lost, not quite knowing where to go. And then-
“Ghosts for the barracks, this way!” A loud voice called.
Thire knew that voice. Well yes, of course he knew that voice; all the Vode shared the same one. But he would recognize that voice among millions.
He immediately followed the sound of that voice and soon spotted him. Fox. His helmet was hanging from his hip and he had his back to him, but Thire recognized him instantly.
Thire relaxed almost immediately upon seeing his brother. Fox looked tired and had even more white hair, but he was there, standing on his own two feet, and healthy enough to lead the Ghosts where they wanted to go.
Glancing around, Thire noticed other Corries armor, but at that moment, no one was more important than Fox.
Thire waited until he was close enough before speaking. "Fox!" He simply called.
He saw his brother tense up, freeze, then slowly turn around, his eyes wide. Fox seemed unable to believe his eyes.
"Hello, Ori'vod." Thire said softly as he continued walking towards his brother.
It took him a few more moments but Fox finally shook himself off and sped over the last few meters that separated them, taking Thire in his arms and hugging him tightly, Thire obviously returning the hug.
“You’re one of them.” Fox murmured, his voice muffled by Thire’s shoulder and his tears. “Thank Force, you’re one of them. When I first heard about the Ghosts, I… I didn’t want to believe it. But you’re here. You really are, right? Am I losing my mind? Please, Thire, tell me you’re really here.”
“I’m here.” Thire confirmed, also visibly emotional. “I’m here, I’m alive, and I’m fine. I promise, Ori’vod. I never died; I was simply waiting for the right moment to return safely. I came back as soon as I could.”
“You're not leaving again, are you? I… I can't lose you again, Vod'ika, okay?”
"I'm staying here." Thire affirmed. "And even if I have to leave again, I'll take you with me."
Fox and Thire remained silent for a moment, before being interrupted by another Vode.
“Fox, what are you-! Oh.”
Thire stepped back slightly, keeping a hand on his brother's arm to see who had joined them. And it was none other than Marshall Commander Cody, one of the highest-ranking clones in the GAR, and incidentally, one of Fox's batchmates.
"Ah Cody, I'd like you to meet Thire, one of my Commanders. He's one of the Ghosts who returned today." Fox declared, a mixture of pride and immeasurable joy in his voice.
"Pleased to meet you, Commander." Thire said, extending his hand to Cody, who grabbed his forearm in a Mandalorian greeting that many Vode had adopted.
"Likewise, Commander." Cody smiled. "I've heard a lot about you."
Thire refused to blush and simply nodded.
"Did you want something, Cody?" Fox redirected.
"Yes, replace you. You've finished your shift and if you refuse to stop, I'll tell the medics." Cody threatened.
Thire looked up at that. Why did Fox need the medics' supervision?
"Okay, okay, I'll stop." Fox capitulated easily. "No need to involve the medics."
“Good.” Cody nodded before turning back to Thire. “Welcome back, Commander Thire. If it's not too much trouble, could you please get this idiot to rest now? He tends to overdo it.”
"Count on me, Commander." Thire readily agreed.
Fox added nothing and simply put an arm around Thire's shoulders to guide him, no doubt, towards the barracks. "I see you're limping less." Fox quickly noticed. "Is your leg better?"
“Not really. But I have a brace to limit the pain, a cane for when it hurts too much, and I've finally been able to really rest it. It's amazing how much good a little rest can do. And speaking of that, what's this about the medics? Why did Commander Cody seem worried that you weren't stopping?”
"You know me, Vod, always wanting to do too much.” Fox tried to deflect.
Thire stared at him for a moment, making it clear that he wouldn't get away with it that easily, but that he agreed not to seek the absolute truth immediately.
"Well, what's changed on Coruscant since I left?" Thire asked instead of insisting.
Fox let out a humorless laugh before continuing. "Oh, not much. The Chancellor was actually a Sith, the Sith. He controlled both sides of the war. He bears some responsibility for our creation, and we all have a chip in our heads that can erase our entire personalities with a single word from him. When I found out about all that, I'd had enough and I shot him in the head. With a slugthrower, because Sith and Jedi fend off blaster bolts in their sleep. The Sith is dead, the Separatists have surrendered, the galaxy is almost at peace. Oh, and we have a General now."
Thire remained silent for a moment, trying to absorb everything his brother had just said. And as with many things these days, he left much of it out to focus on just one part.
“A General? You mean a GAR General is now also in charge of the Corries?”
“No, no, a Jedi, other than the Generals already in place, saw the shitty conditions we were in and decided to change them. It's thanks to him, among other things, that we were able to update the Sith.”
"A Jedi decided to name themselves General of the Guard. Just like that?" Thire repeated, raising an eyebrow.
“More or less. He informed his Council, of course, but only after introducing himself to us and taking up his post.”
“Well, what a Jedi. He must be quite a character.”
"You can say that, yeah." Fox confirmed. "Besides, as soon as I tell you his name, you'll be a lot less surprised."
"What? I already know him?" Thire exclaimed in surprise, frowning. Apart from the GAR Generals and perhaps a few others, Thire did not know many Jedi.
“The question isn't who knows him, but who doesn't. For a Shadow, he has quite a reputation.”
That information alone was enough for Thire to understand who it was, and he froze, letting out a long groan. Fox, the bastard, just burst out laughing. “Noooo.” Thire groaned. “Vos, really?”
"In person." Fox affirmed with a wide, almost unsettling smile.
"Quinlan Vos?" Thire repeated. "General of the Coruscant Guard?"
“In the flesh.”
Thire let out another groan of despair, and Fox only laughed harder, clearly reveling in his brother's despair. Traitor. Thire would be leaving for Maridun again, without Fox, as quickly as he had come.
But Fox did not let him carry out his plan and again put his arm around Thire's shoulders, resuming his guidance.
"Come on, Vod, it's time you met the General." Fox announced, still far too enthusiastically.
Thire continued to grumble for a moment, but a peaceful smile quickly replaced his sulky expression. Even though he now had to endure the living chaotic storm that was Quinlan Vos, Thire was finally back home with his brothers, and he couldn't have asked for anything better.