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The Coruscant Guard, Bail noticed as he passed a squad of the troopers in the hall, never took off their helmets. After spending enough time with both Obi-Wan and Padme, he knew that they had been outfitted with rebreathers to cope with Coruscant’s atmosphere and pollution though they were capable of surviving without them but it was a startling realization to note that he’d never seen a single trooper’s face.
They were frighteningly competent and comfortingly kind, even if they maintained the perfect picture of professionalism.
“New Commander will be making the rounds today.” Sheltay said from a step behind Bail. Her eyes were bright with excitement. Ever since the Republic had announced the ‘Grand Army of the Republic’ and stationed the troopers on Coruscant, she’d been interested in finding out more about the clones. “He’s had to take some time to settle his troops but he’ll finally be introducing himself to all the delegations.”
“Haven’t we met the commanders?” Bail queried, thinking about the group of six that had been present within the senate the day the troopers had landed. Those six had provided them with numbers and hadn’t removed their helmets either.
“This one’s incharge of all the other clones.” Sateen said from his other side, though his expression was one of curiosity rather than excitement.
This new information was also intriguing to Bail. He was under the impression that all command staff had already been brought to Coruscant, though he understood that the full strength of the Coruscant Guard numbered close to a hundred and fifty thousand troops.
“When?” He turned to face Sheltay. “Have they mentioned what time that will happen?”
Sheltay was beaming at him, excitement in the very crinkle of her eyes.
“Most likely after lunch today.” She said once she glanced down at her datapad. “Your lunch is scheduled for one, but Commander Three-zero-Two-One has marked one fifteen for a potential meeting with the Marshal Commander.”
Bail blinked in surprise.
“They’re coordinating?”
“Very efficiently sir. I think it’d be best if we can get on their good side.” Sheltay’s face morphed into one of thoughtful contemplation, a look Bail had seen often on her face when Coruscant heard news of a brand new army, one being led by the Jedi. He wondered whether she was scheming, as good aides often did to keep up with the constant pace and workload of public service duties, or if she had something else in mind.
“Maybe,” Bail added carefully. “You could go to that cafe you like around half-past-twelve for some pastries and caf for our office,”
“And the good Commander, right.” Sheltay nodded enthusiastically. “Good thinking sir. A trooper of his nature would probably love to have a caf by lunch time.”
And for the rest of the morning once they’d reached his office, Bail couldn’t help but curiously wonder about the new Commander who would be introducing himself to the Senate. There had been pushback, of course there was pushback at the presence of clone troopers on Coruscant, but Bail had seen it for what they were trying to hide. It was truly an occupation of the Republic’s heart they were protesting. His own opinion neither here nor there.
Hearing that Padme had been almost assassinated and then attempted to be publicly executed in a ring with animals had been an already too-cruel of a fate for a lady so young. Knowing that these clone troopers were here to protect them and Coruscant, at the risk of sounding old and jaded, Bail thought, but it made him feel some comfort, even if there was to be a war.
He tapped his stylus against his datapad tentatively before continuing to write.
They would strive for peace. He would continue to strive for peace.
Mon would possibly be interested in discussing their options.
He pushed aside thoughts of the Commander for the time being and hoped he would make a little more progress on his document for relief efforts he’d intended on presenting to the rest of the senate.
Lunchtime came with the smell of pastries from Sheltay’s favourite cafe, along with an indulgent caramel slice that she’d placed on his desk once she’d walked in balancing boxes of pastries and a tray of coffees in her hands. In between putting aside his work and clearing his inbox for the day, he has managed to comm Breha and let her know he will be unavailable for their daily call.
The new commander made himself known as Bail sipped on his caf.
Bail was no armour expert, but the commander’s armour was a bit more extensive than the other troopers he’d interacted with. He had a skirt-like attachment that swished when he entered the room, with the Coruscant Guard emblem painted onto the front of his chestplate and a coloured visor-guard unlike one he’d seen before.
“Marshal Commander.” Bail greeted the trooper as he walked through the door to his office. He set down his datapad and caf and stood from behind his desk to hold his hand out towards the commander
There was a moment where the trooper, body minutely jerking in surprise at being addressed, stopped in his tracks, before he smoothly recovered and closed the distance between him and Bail.
“Senator Organa. It is nice to finally put a face to a name.”
Oh. Bail blinked.
Something about the commander's voice, even disguised by the vocoder, was a rough rasp. It was relatively deep and a hint guttural, like the commander had just rolled out of bed. He hadn’t had the pleasure of hearing Obi-Wan’s commander speak over holo-calls while the trooper lingered in the background, but he hadn’t expected this.
“-e pleasure to make the acquaintance of many senators today. You were highly complimented.” The commander continued to speak.
Bail blinked, then nodded.
“I thank you for only listening to the good stories then.”
The commander’s head tilted to the side as if he was observing the senator curiously.
“We got you caf, Marshal Commander.” Sheltay said from somewhere to Bail’s left, before she appeared in his peripheral vision, holding out the flimis-cup of caf and a brown bag which held one of the many pastries she’d bought.
There was a sound akin to a chirp of a comm, before the commander slowly reached out and took the caf and pastry bag from Sheltay.
“That’s… kind of you.” He glanced down at the bag. “And you can just call me Commander, designation Ten-Ten. Whole thing is a mouthful otherwise ma’am. Sir.” He nodded towards Bail as well.
“If you are sure Commander?”
The commander nodded, before he began to explain that their datapads and communicators would be outfitted with the comm-codes of the primary officers present within the Senate Rotunda, along with an emergency frequency that will alert the closest trooper to come to their aide. He was straightforward as he explained that they were, of course, working alongside Coruscant Security and the Senate Guard.
“My men will endeavour to treat you with the utmost respect and do our duty well.” The Marshal Commander said with a slow turn to look at all three of them. “So we ask that during any investigations or interviews, given honesty and transparency. We are only here to assist the Republic, never to harm.”
Bail couldn’t think of how many times the commander had to say that today, let alone to some senators who certainly would not honour such a simple request.
“That would sound reasonable enough.” Bail replied.
“That covers it, really. At 1800 hours, our technical squad will be by to outfit any necessary electronics you carry with the emergency frequency and comm-codes. Feel free to ask them any questions you might have.”
Despite his face being covered, Bail could only describe the way he tilted his head towards them as expectant.
“Thank you Commander.” Sheltay offered him a warm smile.
Bail didn’t know whether the commander was smiling back, but there was a soft chitter that almost sounded like a laugh.
“No, thank you for this,” He raised the caf and pastry. “I’ll enjoy it on my break once I finish my rounds.”
“Why don’t you do it now?” Bail gestured to the couches within his office. “I’m sure you could use a moment, seeing as you’ve been introducing yourself to senators all morning.”
“I would have to decline sir. Regulation dictates we are to keep our helmets on at all times, excluding the barracks, mess hall and private quarters.”
With that the Commander had given them a salute with the hand not carrying the caf cup and the pastry, he’d bowed before gracefully exiting Bail’s office with him, SHeltay and Sateen staring after him. He hadn’t realized they weren’t allowed to remove their helmets but perhaps that made sense. It was for their protection afterall, and they were protecting the Senate.
Still, he knew that their template was the Mandalorian, Jango Fett, pictures of the bounty hunter floating around didn’t do the man justice. Obi-Wan had said he was a handsome man, though his personality had been something that left a rotten taste in his friend’s mouth. Still he wondered what Fox looked like beneath the helmet and if he was as young as he truly seemed?
-
Bail glanced over at the clock on the far wall of his office.
It had been a present from Mon and much nicer to look at compared to one of the holo-clocks that presented the time digitally. It also was painted with different orange and yellow hues, mimicking a sunset over glowing rolling hills.
It was almost lunch time, just ten minutes to mid-day.
The clock ticked over for another minute.
Bail’s office door slid open.
“Ah, Commander Fox.” Bail stood from his chair, setting down his stylus into its holder. “Right on time, as usual.”
“I endeavour not to keep you waiting, Senator.” The commander replied.
And to anyone else it would’ve been a picture perfect scene of professionalism, the commander addressing the senator. The senator smiled and returned the address with something quiet and barely heard, but prompting the light, shaking of the commander's shoulders with quiet laughter.
To Bail, it was the little things that mattered.
Like the way Commander Fox would bow his head in a slightly different manner to Bail out of respect, compared to the bow he gave others out of duty. To Bail it was the way the commander had offered Bail, Sheltay and Sateen the use of his name. The way he’d seemed to not be so on edge when he’d stepped into Bail’s office compared the the many times he’d seen the commander on patrol.
He placed a hand onto Fox’s shoulder.
“Ready to go for lunch?” He asked curiously.
Commander Fox had agreed to accompany for lunch but Bail had learned by now that he hadn’t agreed to eating, and he certainly hadn’t reached a point where removing his helmet was a comfortable option for him yet.
“I have an hour’s break today.”
Bail thought that there was an excited lit in the Commander's voice.
They had plans to go to one of Bail’s favourite hole-in-the-walls just a block away from the Senate building but a quick check of the restaurant’s website showed that they were closed for renovations, so instead Bail had suggested the caf-stand in the plaza that also sold an assortment of pastries, sandwiches, ronto-wraps and other sandwich-like items that would possibly be much more interesting than the nutrition bars that Bail had seen some of the unranked troopers exchanging with one another.
“Come with me.” Bail said as he placed a hand onto Commander Fox’s shoulder, guiding him to turn around. “Lunch will be on me.”
“Sir I couldn’t possibly-”
“No.” Bail made sure to keep his tone firm but not forceful. “Think of it as a thank you, Commander, for being so invested in the wellbeing of the people of Coruscant.”
The commander was comfortable enough to snort in Bail’s presence, which Bail counted as a win, because he had been trying to convince the troopers of the Coruscant Guard that his office was a safe space for them for the past six months. Becoming an ally to the Marshal Commander has been the most pivotal decision he could make.
“Of course sir.” Commander Fox’s nod was slow and tentative, maybe even shy, but he allowed Bail to guide him out of the office.
The senate building stood longer than Bail could remember into history, but he wondered whether the internal decorations were so coincidentally designed to match with the Coruscant Guard. With its accents of red and gold, it looks almost like the Guard were meant to be guarding the whole of the senate.
He did remove his hand from the commander’s shoulder as they made their way towards the elevator to exit down to the plaza. Their ongoing friendship did rely heavily on Bail respecting the commander’s need for professionalism and his boundaries when they were surrounded by anyone other than Sheltay, Sateen or his own men. He would’ve also liked to think that he had done a good job respecting the commander’s boundaries too.
The elevator door slid open and they both stepped aside to let the senators and their aides within to exit gracefully. One of them gave Bail a nod but didn’t spare a greeting for the commander or a second glance.
Bail frowned.
“It’s fine.” The commander said, shoulders moving in a brief shrug.
They stepped into the elevator, having the space to themselves, with a happy and bright tune playing as they went down.
“Have you had a ronta-wrap yet Commander?” Bail asked as they stepped out of the lift and made their way towards the exit.
“Not yet sir. Most of my meals are had either in my private quarters or the mess.” He answered. His choice of words were slow and deliberate. Bail wondered why that was but then possibly attributed it to one of the many regulations the commander could cite.
As they made their way to the caf-stand, Bail waved to the Nikto who ran it.
“Chyndech!” He greeted the Nikto. “How have you been? Business has been going well I hope?”
Chyndech was an older Nikto, with scaly skin in a shade close to the terracotta planters that Bail remembered Breha introducing to sitting room just the year prior. His green eyes were always kind when he spoke to the people visiting his stall.
“As busy as it can get.” Chyndech said with a smile. “I’m glad to see you. Would you like your usual?”
“Yes please, and” Bail turned to the commander for his opinion.
“Something with fish, if you have any?” The commander aksed, helmet tilting to the side. “And something that will keep.”
“Well,” The Nikto tapped his chin. “I suppose you’d like the burra-fish.”
The commander seemed to perk up at the mention of fish and he nodded enthusiastically.
“Wonderful.” Chyndech’s smile widened. “Just wait to the side, I’ll toast your wrap and the burra-fish sandwich for you.”
Following Bail as he stepped to the side, Commander Fox glanced around the plaza, at the many people walking past and heading into the senate building as well as leaving the senate building. He tilted his head to the side for a moment as though he was listening for something, and then when he noticed Bail watching him, he snapped up to a straighter stance.
“Sorry sir, one of the other commanders was checking in.”
“No need to apologize, Commander.” Bail shook his head. Spending time with the commander did reveal that he truly was in charge of every single trooper that had stepped foot onto Coruscant as a part of the Guard, marked with their signature maroon paint. While they reported to other commanders, those commanders still reported back to Commander Fox. “Have you been enjoying your posting on Coruscant?”
The hesitation was there.
Bail wasn’t an army man, nor was he built for espionage, but he could read people to an extent. Despite being hidden behind his armour, there was a hint of hesitation from the commander as he stiffened, then relaxed.
“I think…” He said slowly. “That Coruscant is interesting, it’s certainly unlike other postings my brothers have.”
“Your brothers?”
“Yes, most of them are on the frontlines sir.”
Bail wondered if Commander Fox knew Obi-Wan’s commander in that case, if the troopers considered themselves brothers. He wondered how the familial ties spread out over the millions of troopers. If any of them were as close to their siblings as Bail was close to his sisters.
“I suppose you worry about them then?”
“I do.” The commander murmured, tilting his head to look up at the sky. “But I keep track of all of them, no matter how deep in the galaxy they are."
"It sounds like you are a very good brother."
"Bail!" Chyndech called out from the stall. "Food's ready!"
"I'll get it." Commander Fox offered but Bail gestured for him to stay put. "No, please, allow me."
He stepped over to the stall, leaving Commander Fox alone just a few steps away from him to pay Chyndech and collect their food.
“We don’t want you here, flesh droid!” Before Bail could even react. The commlink on Commander Fox’s wrist blared yellow right as the Commander stumbled back. Bail almost dropped the food he’d been handed to try and stop the Commander from stumbling but the assailant had already started shoving his way between them.
He abandoned the food onto Chyndech's counter.
“Let the commander go!” He shouted as Commander Fox began to grapple with the assailant. Bail moved on instinct, shoving his way forward towards where the pair were wrestling with each other. He saw the flash of a weapon, a blade, a knife , and he moved faster to try to get to Commander Fox before the assailant could use the knife.
“Get off! ” He heard the commander grunt.
There was a crack and a loud chitter and hiss as the commander’s helmet was knocked off his head and the plastoid clattered across the duracrete.
The assailant screamed, scrambling away from the commander, slamming his frame into Bail’s shoulder before he shoved the senator away from him.
“What the kriff?” Someone else gasped from behind Bail. There were other shouts and exclamations.
“ It’s a monster.”
“It’s not even human?”
“Don’t go near it!”
“Someone call security!”
Bail disregarded all the comments and pushed past the civilians gathering around the commander and came to a stop when he finally spotted the man.
Commander Fox's eyes seemed to be momentarily covered with black every time he blinked before revealing the browns of his irises. His jaw was sharp. His ears were pointed and flared, almost like fins. Coloured ripples that could only be frills, or even gills , disappeared down the blacks of his body suit. When he hissed, sharp, pointed teeth were bared.
Bail’s initial thought was to freeze and back away from him while others stared on, horrified, but the commander turned to face him.
“Senator?” His voice was raspier without the vocoder. When he blinked, his eyes were almost black as night. Bail watched the sharp points of his teeth dimple his bottom lip. “Are you hurt?”
Even with his helmet removed, even being the one who was attacked, the Commander’s first priority was him? Bail snorted in disbelief and stepped out of the circling civilians to pick up the Commander’s helmet to hand it to him.
He let Commander Fox place the helmet back onto his head before he helped the man up to his feet.
“I’m fine, Commander, I’m more worried about you. Are you alright?” He steadied the commander with a hand to his back as Chyndech stepped out of his stall to shout at the bystanders around them.
“Get! Get! Leave the trooper alone!” The Nikto waved his arms and shooed the other bystanders away.
“I’m fine.” He said, glancing briefly at the bystanders. “But that’s going to be on the holonews in a few minutes. I’ll have to cut my break short I’m afraid. There’ll have to be damage control, if the team works fast enough we can remove the images before they go viral-”
Before Bail could protest, Chyndech stepped forward and interrupted him.
“But don’t forget your food.” He said, handing the food over to Commander Fox and Bail. “On the house Commander.”
Bail blinked in surprise.
“Thank you.” The commander could answer, finding his composure much quicker than Bail could. Then he turned to face Bail. “I apologize for the interruption senator, but my men will be rendezvousing shortly. It’s best if this is handled internally.”
“I-” Bail didn’t know what to say. He wanted to protest, to say that he would assist but the commander was already tapping away on the communications array on his wrist and his head was bobbing as if he was talking on his internal comms. “We will have to reschedule.” He offered.
In the distance, he could already see a squad of troopers exiting the senate building into the plaza and they closed the distance quickly, one of them coming to a stop next to their commander and placing a hand on their shoulder before speaking in a language that Bail didn’t recognize.
The commander seemed to give one last chirp-like noise in response to the other trooper, before taking one final glance at Bail, and wrapped food in hand, left the senator standing outside Chyndech’s stall as they began walking away.