Chapter Text
"The Old Ones were, the Old Ones are, and the Old Ones shall be. Not in the spaces we know, but between them. They walk serene and primal, undimensioned and to us unseen."
H.P. Lovecraft, The Dunwich Horror
Colt isn't a Jedi, but he feels the heat of Fox's anger bleed with the walls.
"How," a rockslide voice snarls, "could you think so little of me?"
The blood stops not far from Colt's boots, rising into a human body. Good. Colt doesn't need a fresh headache.
He keeps his posture relaxed. "I'm not sure I understand."
Fox yanks off his helmet. "I don't need bribes to save my brothers, Commander."
"Your boys requested their batchmates. I thought it might motivate you." Colt nods. "I'm happy to be wrong. But we need to act fast, Fox."
Fox's jaw clenches, but he asks, "What do they need saving from? Why now?"
Colt gestures to a nearby monitor. "Take a look."
All Fox needs is a glance before his armor's crackling. "These are tubies. Why are they all slated for decommissioning?"
"War's over, chips are gone. To the longnecks, these are 'unused product.'" Colt turns to Fox. "I've heard what you can do, and now I've seen it with my own eyes." He points to the list. "I need you to protect them until Master Ti can sort this out. If you need help, you won't be short on volunteers."
Fox's eyes drip, drip, drip.
"I won't need help."
Within the hour, every undeployed clone's shadow has eyes, from tubie to trooper. If a Kaminoan breathes wrong, teeth snap dangerously close to their throats, torturing their ears with unknowable syllables. Part of Colt, like every vod, wants those teeth to devour, but he's glad Fox has restraint. Killing the longnecks will bring unwanted attention.
Fox is terrifying until his charges realize what he's doing. Within the first twelve hours, Colt and Master Ti see more than one vod escaping into a shaded area or turning the lights off when they can.
Colt doubts Fox needs it. The rumors don't do him justice.
Master Ti's breathing has tightened. But she had agreed to Colt's suggestion to contact Fox. Her children come first, and Colt is so grateful he hadn't had to go behind her back.
Transmissions fly while Fox maintains his watch. Chancellor Organa is calling an emergency session. The Jedi will be attending. The Coruscant Guard will be posted at every door. Colt has a feeling they won't let anyone out until their brothers are saved.
"Commander."
Colt looks up from his datapad, where headlines from Coruscant are flying. "Sir?"
He doesn't like Master Ti's expression. "You are needed in the training salles. I will conduct this meeting myself."
"Sir—"
"Colt, please. You must hurry."
He doesn't get there in time.
CT-9901 is curled in a ball, sobbing as quietly as he can. Other cadets surround him, some forming a wall, some trying to comfort him. Barely a meter away is a skeleton, picked clean.
"He tried to strangle '01, sir," a cadet whispers.
"W-we didn't see what happened," another squeaks, "one second he was there, and then..."
Someone vomits in the corner. Colt breathes in sickly sweet death and says, "I'm assuming you're referring to Priest?"
A few nods, a few "yes sir"s.
"Alright. Get '01 out of here. CT-6641, clean yourself up. I'll deal with this."
"Sir."
Colt looks down at CT-9901. He's shaking in his brother's arms, but his face is set. They're all so brave and Colt aches every day for them.
"Was that Commander Fox?"
Colt nods. "I've asked him to keep an eye on you while we sort something out."
"Then it's true? What they say?"
"Why don't you ask him? He's right behind you."
Colt throws the skeleton over his shoulder while the cadets whirl around in circles, shrieking when Fox blinks at them. Before the door closes, he hears '01 murmuring thanks.
Priest's bones are cast into the ocean. Colt doesn't try to stop the spark of vindication as he watches the storm snatch them. Good fucking riddance.
The threat of decommissioning is removed from all records. Now it's up to the Senate to recognize clone sentience.
Colt heads to his bunk after almost 48 hours on his feet. He removes his helmet and finally takes a deep breath.
Fox congeals before him. He looks viciously smug. As he should, Colt thinks.
"Good job, Commander," Colt says, "Thank you."
"No need," Fox replies, "I told you, I don't need bribes."
"And I told you, your boys requested their batchmates' deployment to Coruscant. Are you sure you don't want them?"
What kind of Commander would refuse shinies? Colt suspects Fox, above all, can't resist.
Still, Fox looks him up and down. "Just like that?"
"Are you implying something?"
"I don't have to imply anything."
"I called you to protect our home. Yes, Fox. Just like that."
After a moment, Fox crosses his arms. "Branch and Clover's batch, right?"
"Yes. You've met them by now."
"I have." Fox sighs. "Alright. I expect them on a transport in an hour."
"I already notified them. They're waiting in the hangar."
Fox raises an eyebrow. Colt raises one back.
"I suppose I have a ship to catch, then."
"That you do, Commander."
"...thank you."
Colt's lips quirk. "Vod'e An."
For a second, Fox looks surprised. Then, slowly, he smiles back, lips carefully closed. "Vod'e An."
He melts into the wall. Dramatic bastard.
Branch nearly sobs on the landing bay as Meadow forgets protocol and runs right past Commander Fox and into his arms. Branch knows it's him from his laugh, higher than most vode with a unique staccato. Clover stops them from staggering to the ground, only to be yanked into a group hug by Ula, the only one in their batch who calls everyone "fucker" by default.
Which leaves—
Cinth hangs back. The middle child, as it were, but he always acts like the oldest, usually the first to gather a brother close. His clenching fists say he wants to join them, but even when Fox gives the go-ahead, he stays rooted by the shuttle.
"It really is you," Ula whispers, "Everyone said you'd be—who the fuck knows what." He breathes in, as if he can smell them through their helmets. "Oh, you fuckers. You fuckers."
Branch looks at Cinth, who hasn't moved.
"What else do they say?"