Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The turbolift door juddered partway open, then stopped with a whine.

“Thorn,” Fox said, moving forward.

The other commander joined him and together they forced the door open far enough for the troopers to exit the lift.

Only about a third of the corridor lights seemed to be working, and those flickered uncertainly. Whispers filled the silence, sibilant and otherworldly. The sound made Fox's stomach roll. He clenched his fists around the grips of his blaster pistols and led his contingent of Guardsmen down the hall.

Long gouges marred the marble walls, the sumptuous rugs covering the hardwood floors, the ceiling. Shards from priceless porcelain vases and the remnants of other works of art littered the floor.

"What happened up here?" Thorn muttered.

"That's what we're here to find out," Fox said.

The unintelligible whispers seemed to lead the clones as they crept down the hall. As Fox approached one of the closed doorways along the corridor, something skritched on the other side of the durasteel.

Fox stopped.

The sound came again sending shivers up his spine.

Fox motioned to his men. "Stay back."

He swallowed and reached for the door release. With a hiss of hydraulics, the door opened.

Nothing seemed amiss in the small aide’s office. The lights were bright, no flickering. No gouges marred the walls. The potted plants and pictures on the wall were as they should be.

Fox heard a soft sound from the closed door in the far wall. The door that led to the senator’s office beyond.

"Riot, Raze, with me," Fox said.

He stepped into the smaller office and the two named Guardsmen followed in flanking positions, blaster rifles at the ready. Fox slid a pistol into its holster and reached for the door release on the panel in the wall. Just before he pressed the button, he heard the soft skritching again.

Fox froze.

"Osik," Raze muttered.

He'd heard it too.

Fox steeled himself and punched the door release.

A wave of warm, iron scented air rolled out of the office. Even with the odor filtered through his helmet, Fox gagged. He heard Riot and Raze do the same.

The office was bathed in red. Blood spattered the light fixtures and pooled on the expensive wood of the desk. A mangled figure lay splayed on the carpet.

Fox gagged again and he cranked his helmet filters up to the max as he sucked in breaths to try and settle his stomach.

"Riot? Raze?" he asked.

"Here, boss," Raze said. His voice sounded pinched.

"Sir," Riot choked.

"Fox?" Thorn called from the hallway.

"Body on the ground," Fox said. "We'll need to have a medical team check DNA to get an identification."

"Osik," Thorn muttered.

Fox turned and gestured for Riot and Raze to proceed him out of the room.

Something tugged at Fox's ankle.

He looked down to see a pale hand clutching his boot.

With a shout, Fox pulled his leg free, staggering back a step.

Riot and Raze spun toward him, blasters up.

"Hold!" Fox ordered.

To their credit, both troopers held their fire, though they practically vibrated with tension.

Fox looked down at the form huddled against the wall. He slipped his other blaster into its holster.

"Hey there," he said gently, and knelt on one knee.

A wide-eyed Human woman stared back at him with glassy eyes. Her face and clothing were splashed with blood.

"Help me," the woman whispered.

Fox held out a hand to her. "You're safe now."

She shook her head. "No one's safe. The walls are listening. The shadows . . ." She gulped. “The shadows eat people.”

“What the haran’kar is going on?” Riot muttered.

Fox got an arm around the woman and helped her to her feet. He led her out of the office and closed the door on the grizzly scene.

"Riot, Raze, I want you to stay here with—" Fox paused, looking down at the woman.

"Halla," she said. "My name's Halla."

Fox nodded and addressed his troopers. "Stay with Halla. If we find more survivors, we'll send them here to you."

Riot and Raze nodded and stepped up so Halla was bracketed between them.

"How bad was it?" Thorn asked, when Fox rejoined his men in the hall.

"It was . . ." Fox shook his head. "Horrifying doesn't really cover it."

Thorn grunted, and they started down the hallway again.

More skritching behind closed doors.

More blood and scattered bodies.

More survivors too. Mostly senatorial aides, though Fox and his men did find senators Tynnra Pamlo and Bana Breemu, whom they sent to Riot and Raze with the others.

As they approached Vice Chair Mas Amedda's office, the whispers that had permeated the air grew to a pervasive low rumble. Fox's head hurt from the constant hissing and something about the foreign sounds made his stomach roil.

His men weren't faring much better. Jek had removed his helmet once already to vomit and Rys kept jumping at shadows.

To be fair, the shadows seemed to grow eyes that watched the troopers' progress, and wraith-like hands reached toward them from under closed doors.

Fox paused outside Mas Amedda's door. Fox had tried to minimize the impact of their gory finds on his men. He was pretty sure he was going to have nightmares for the rest of his life and he dreaded what he'd find in this office. Fox reached for the door release, but Thorn put a hand on his vambrace, stopping him.

"Let me," Thorn said.

Fox shook his head. "I'm always first." The vod'ika was implied.

Thorn let out a huff. "I got your six."

Fox nodded and opened the door. He thought he'd become hardened to being shocked and sickened by what he'd seen while searching the offices on the floor, but the sight in Mas Amedda's office nearly cost him his lunch rations. He looked away, breathing hard from the stale air in his helmet. Jek vomited again.

"Go back to the others," Fox ordered. “Rys, take him.”

"Sorry, commander," Jek rasped.

Fox grunted an acknowledgement, still waiting for his own stomach to settle. Then he looked up at the scene again.

Amedda's head and spinal column hung from what looked like a web of his own intestines. But there was no way his body had held that much volume. Something red and dripping was mixed with Amedda’s guts to extend the gloopy web from wall to wall, ceiling to floor.

“Little gods,” Thorn croaked. “What the hell is doing this?”

There was a muted roar and a thud that shook the ground.

“I think we’re about to find out,” Fox said.

They eased their way past the oozing web of viscera to the door that lay at the far end of the office, which led to Chancellor Palpatine’s suite of offices. The wall shuddered as they approached, as if something massive had been thrown against it. The door hardly moved when Fox hit the release and he and Thorn were left trying to pry it open.

“Commander Fox, help me!”

Fox didn’t think he’d ever heard true fear in Chancellor Palpatine’s voice before. Fox and Thorn shared a look before throwing every ounce of genetically enhanced strength they possessed into pulling the door open. With a screech of protesting durasteel, the door opened enough for Fox to squeeze his head and shoulders through.

The Chancellor was wielding a red-bladed lightsaber. That was a lot for Fox to take in.

But the other thing . . .

Fox couldn’t focus on the writing black mass for long. As he tried, it felt like his brain was going to melt inside his skill. The impression he was left with, as he focused on the Chancellor again, was limbs and teeth and too many eyes.

“Shoot it, commander! Shoot it!” the Chancellor screamed.

Fox reached for his holsters, but found they were stuck in the door.

“Come on, Fox,” Thorn growled, trying to shove him through the door.

The thing . . . the entity . . . whatever it was, batted the Chancellor into a wall. Then it turned.

Fox found himself frozen in that many-eyed gaze.

“Foxssssss,” it hissed.

The thing struck, biting the Chancellor in half as he started to rise to his feet.

The resulting explosion of dark energy relieved Fox of every one of his over exerted senses and he slid gratefully into unconsciousness.

*   *   *

“I think he’s starting to come around.”

“I’m not dead yet, Billow,” Fox rasped.

"Thanks to my expertise," the medic said.

There were relieved chuckles from several brothers.

Fox opened his eyes to find himself in one of the private medbay recovery rooms. Stone, Thire, Thorn, as well as the CMO Billow, and several other troopers were gathered around his biobed.

“Shouldn’t at least some of you be on duty?” Fox asked.

“I'm on duty. The rest of these layabouts were just worried about you," Billow said amidst more chuckles.

“You nearly died, Fox,” Thorn said.

Remembering shining ivory teeth piercing mauve brocade robes, Fox said, “The Chancellor?"

“Dead,” Stone said. “And a Sith. I think the Jedi want to make you an honorary Knight for finding and defeating him.”

Fox grimaced. “Wasn’t me. Who’s the new—?”

“That’s enough for now,” Billow said. “You need to rest.”

For once, Fox didn’t argue. He was pretty sure he could feel his spleen, and that wasn’t normal. He’d take a few hours to rest. Maybe even a few days.

The others said their goodbyes and Billow turned down the lights as he exited the room.

A soft skritch skritch came from an air vent in the ceiling.

Fox might have seen a single pair of red eyes staring back before his eyes slipped shut.

Just a rat, he thought.

He blinked his eyes open, just to check.

The eyes were still there.

As he watched, a third red eye opened above the other two.

Chapter Text

Fox was tired. Even though he was supposed to be on medical leave in the wake of Chancelor Palpatine’s death, he didn’t feel right leaving Stone, Thire, and Thorn to shoulder his workload, plus their own. There was talk of pulling in one of the captains as a temporary replacement for Fox, but Fox didn’t really want that.

However, if he didn’t get some sleep, and keep off Billow’s radar, he knew he was going to find the choice taken away from him. Apparently, his men didn’t take kindly to him getting blown up by Sith dark side energy and were determined that he would rest.

It took almost as much of Fox’s energy to keep up on as much of his workload as he could, as it took to make sure his vode didn’t find out he was doing so.

On this night, all Fox wanted was to hit the shower, maybe choke down one of the ration bars he kept under his mattress, and fall face first onto his bunk. If he were lucky, he'd get a few hours of sleep before he started slinking around after his little brothers again.

Ahead of him, where one of the lights was burned out and hadn't yet been replaced, something moved.

It was so fast, Fox almost missed the flicker of motion in his tired state.

Blinking through the different HUD settings, he found the thermal mode and ran to where he'd seen the movement. There was a doorway on his left and he peered through it, expecting to see the footprints of some small animal. The thermal didn't register any heat signatures at all.

Fox flicked through a couple more settings on his HUD, but there was still no evidence that anything had come through the doorway.

"I know Jek and Rys have snuck another tooka in here," Fox muttered to himself as he started toward the room he shared with the other commanders again. "How many times do I have to tell them not to bring home strays?"

He kept muttering as he stripped off his armor and blacks, and as he showered. He had to stop muttering while he ate. And since he fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow, Fox didn't mutter about disobedient younger brothers for the rest of the evening.

*   *   *

"Alright, that's your assignments for the day," Stone said at the next morning's briefing.

The assembled Guardsmen who were going on shift started breaking up to get to their assignments.

"One more thing," Fox called. He was technically only attending as an observer, since he was still on leave.

The troopers all stopped and turned back to him.

"Whoever brought the tooka into the barracks needs to get it out by tonight. You all know we're not allowed to keep animals on the base unless approved by the GAR."

No one spoke when Fox paused.

"Dismissed," he said.

The Guardsmen filed out of the briefing room and headed to their stations.

"I haven't heard any chatter about a tooka," Stone said. “Not since you last busted Jek and Rys.”

Fox unbuttoned the collar of his softshell grey uniform and reached for his caf mug. He took a long drink. "I saw something in the hallway last night."

"Meer rat?" Stone suggested, gathering his datapads and heading for the door. “Also, why aren’t you resting? I know you have a standing invitation to the Jedi Temple. Go sit in the Room of a Thousand Fountains, or something. Meditate. Give poor Billow , and the rest of us, a break from worrying about you.”

Fox walked with him pointedly ignoring the resting comment. "What I saw was bigger than a meer rat. And faster too."

"Corridor ghoul?"

"Definitely not that big," Fox said. "And a corridor ghoul would have tried to eat me, not just run away."

"Maybe it knew you'd make a tough meal," Stone quipped.

Fox gave his vod the eyeroll that comment deserved.

"Just keep passing on the message that no pets will be tolerated in the barracks," Fox said.

"Aye, aye, commander," Stone said, turning down a side hallway.

"That's 'yes, sir'," Fox called after him. "Just because I’m on leave doesn’t mean you can ignore me. Stone!"

*   *   *

Two nights later, Fox awoke to the sound of something moving around the commanders' quarters.

At first, he wasn't sure what had awakened him. He'd pulled a double shift, against Billow’s orders, to cover for Thorn, who'd been injured on his last shift. Fox was so exhausted he'd just dragged himself to his room, pulled off most of his armor, and collapsed on his bunk.

Maybe Billow was right, Fox thought, and he’d been more affected by the discharge of dark energy than he’d wanted to admit. He’d talk to Stone, Thorn, and Thire about getting one of the captains to cover his shifts. Ricochet had been holding down the fort at the Detention Center. Maybe he’d like a change of scenery. Fox might even take up the Jedi on their offer to visit the Temple.

Fox was just slipping back into sleep when he heard it again.

A soft scratching sound.

Chills rolled down Fox’s spine as images of the trek to Palpatine’s office a few days ago rose in his mind’s eye.

Fumbling with his vambrace, which he was still wearing, Fox managed to turn on the small but powerful light it contained. He scanned the room with bleary eyes. When he didn't see anything immediately, Fox rolled off his bed and swept the light under all the bunks.

None of the shadows moved and no more sounds came to his ears.

For a second, Fox thought he caught sight of a pair of glowing red eyes, but when he blinked and looked again, there was nothing.

"It's too karkin’ late and I'm too karkin’ tired for this osik," Fox growled.

He stripped off the rest of his armor and the top of his blacks and climbed under the sheet on his bunk.

His last thought as he drifted into sleep was, at least the bedding was still warm.

At some point, Fox registered a weight settling against his side. A low rumbling filled the air and sent him right back to sleep.

*   *   *

Fox felt oddly rested the next morning. There was even a spring to his step as he made his way to the commissary for his cup of caf and nutrient mush. He was still in a pretty good mood after the morning briefing. So, when he asked Rys and Jek to stay for a moment, he almost laughed at the trepidation on their faces.

“Troopers, I told you to get rid of the tooka,” Fox said.

“There’s not a tooka, commander,” Jek said. “I swear.”

“We wouldn’t do that again,” Rys said. “Not after last time.”

Fox surveyed his men. Clones were naturally proficient at reading body language; living with thousands of people with your same face did that to a person. Fox could tell his brothers were being honest.

So, what had been purring at his side last night?

After dismissing Jek and Rys, Fox called a meeting of the commanders. They were able to meet a few hours later, grabbing a couple of minutes as the shifts changed.

“I need your help,” Fox said.

*   *   *

Fox knew down to the second how long he’d been pretending to be asleep. It had been long enough that he’d given up on actually getting any sleep before the sun rose. He was mentally going over the schedule he’d taken from Thorn, trying to see which meetings he could cancel and which he could delay to give himself a couple of tooka-naps during the day, when the mattress by his feet sank. Fox forced himself to keep breathing deeply as if he were asleep. Something shifted by his feet, moving up the bed with light steps. A moment later, a weight settled at his side with another, lighter, weight resting on his stomach.

Now! Fox thought, willing Stone, Thire, and Thorn to spring their trap.

Nothing happened.

Fox waited another couple of breaths.

Still nothing.

“Um, Fox?” Thorn’s voice sounded . . . concerned.

A low rumbling filled the air, vibrating Fox’s stomach where it rested.

“That’s not a tooka,” Stone said.

Fox cracked an eye open and looked down at his belly.

Cuddled up at his side was a black mass with . . . Fox stopped counting at twelve limbs. A too thin neck connected to the bulbous head that rested on Fox’s abdomen. A head that had too many glowing red eyes, all of which were fixed on Fox’s face.

Fox opened both eyes and stared at the thing. A cold sweat broke out on his skin. It looked like a smaller version of the beast that had eaten Chancellor Palpatine almost a tenday ago.

As Fox stared, the creature opened its mouth, revealing rows upon rows of razor-sharp teeth.

“Foxssssssss . . .” the thing hissed.

Chapter Text

Captain Ricochet was headed to the storage area on the lower levels of the Coruscant Guard HQ. As a newly appointed temporary commander while Commander Fox recovered from injuries sustained while fighting the Sith Lord, Ricochet needed a bit more equipment than he was used to carrying. He’d put in a requisition for a jetpack and kama a week ago and he still hadn’t received them. So, he was out to find them on his own.

Ahead, the corridor lights flickered. It was awfully quiet, and Ricochet realized he hadn’t seen another brother in several minutes.

Something skittered in the dark, and Ricochet heard a low voice. For some irrational reason, Ricochet suddenly felt the need to hide. He looked around and ducked into the nearest supply closet. A skin crawling skritching sound came from somewhere in the darkness and Ricochet held his breath.

“A lot of people are dead, Fox,” a vod’s voice said.

“Just the bad ones,” Fox replied.

There was a soft scoff. “You’re being awfully cavalier about people’s lives.”

“Like they are with ours?”

The brother with Fox let out a sigh. “Chancellor Organa is trying to make changes. There are a lot of senators who back him and his plans.”

It was Fox’s turn to sigh. “Why are you suddenly the levelheaded one, Thire?”

“I thought you were the calm one,” Thire chuckled. “Then you got blown up by Sith magic. I think it knocked something loose.”

“Or it knocked something back into place.”

“Mmm,” Thire hummed doubtfully.

A clicking sound came from the vicinity of Ricochet’s booted feet and it took all of his training not to jump and scream like a tubie.

“Oh, there you are,” Fox said.

Ricochet thought he’d been caught, but Fox went on.

“You had such a nice meal this morning didn’t you? A big, fat tasty Twi’lek.”

“I thought Taa’s remains looked suspiciously like an animal attack, not a stabbing as reported,” Thire said. “What are the Jedi going to say if they find out you didn’t kill it like the official report says?”

“The official report left a lot of things out,” Fox countered. "Besides, I don’t think blasters would do a thing to Thing. Even Palpatine’s dark side energy couldn’t finish her off, could it?" Fox's voice went high and Ricochet could only call the next few words 'baby talk'.

"Could he, Thing. The nasty-wasty, Sithy-withy. He just gave you a bad case of indigestion, didn't he?"

There was a put upon sigh. "Fox, really. Must you do that?"

"Someone's got to tell Thing she's doing a good job. You certainly don't appreciate her efforts."

A deep rumble filled the air. It made Ricochet's stomach clench in knots and he broke out in a cold sweat.

"I'm usually the one cleaning up after her," Thire lamented. "I have to do all the flimsiwork she generates."

"That's because you're a good vod, Thire." Fox started baby talking again. "And we appreciate all his efforts, don't we Thing. Yes we do."

The low rumble turned into a chittering and Ricochet gagged as his stomach rebelled.

“Just, if she could make a ‘stabbing’ look more like a stabbing, I wouldn’t have to explain teeth marks on the bodies,” Thire said. “I can only say corridor ghouls so many times before the natborns demand we send an extermination party.”

“She’s getting big enough now, there might not even need to be a body next time,” Fox said.

Ricochet could hardly believe his commanding officers, his vode, were discussing murder in such a blasé way. He knew the natborns didn’t tend to treat the clones well—Ricochet spent most of his time in the detention center, so he expected bad behavior of the inmates—but he was beginning to suspect that his brothers outside the detention center had it worse.

“I have to go finish filling out reports,” Thire said.

“I’ll come with you,” Fox said. “Billow wanted to see me about some more tests anyway.”

Ricochet listened as the sound of their boots disappeared down the hallway. Then he waited a few more heartbeats more just to be sure. When he opened the storage room door, he shouted in fright.

Commander Fox was standing right in front of him, arms crossed across his armored chest.

“S-sir,” Ricochet stammered, saluting.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Fox said.

Ricochet tried to swallow, but his throat had suddenly gone dry. He didn’t think Fox would hurt him, but the things he’d just heard . . .

Fox seemed to sense his uneasiness. He reached up to pull his helmet off.

“You heard some things,” Fox said.

Ricochet nodded. There was no use hiding it.

“You’re part of a very small group now,” Fox continued. “Do you have any concerns? If so, I can transfer you back to prison duty, or see if I can get you into another battalion off world.”

“I have concerns,” Ricochet said. “But I don’t want to leave Coruscant. Or the Guard.”

Fox nodded. “I’ll do what I can to allay your concerns. If it helps, I have a very specific list of people Thing is allowed to go after.”

“Can I see the list?” Ricochet asked.

Fox nodded again.

“Can I meet Thing?”

“Maybe,” Fox said. “Most people don’t do very well when they see her.”

Ricochet straightened his shoulders. “If she’s protecting the Guard, I’d like to try.”

That made Fox smile. “We’ll see how you do on cleanup duty first.”