#Thorn has seen Fox on Kamino when they were kids

[varpusvaras]

Just thought of little Leia meeting rest of the Corries...like suddenly Fox has this little nat-born girl hanging around with him, and when asked he's like "she's my daughter from the future. she's just time travelling" (he's casual about it because he has to be. if he's not he's going to lose his mind)

It actually doesn't take long for the Corries to believe it, because the conversation will go like this:

Thorn: ....who is she, Fox?

Fox: This is Leia

Little Leia: 🙂

Thorn: Um. Where did you get her?

Fox: Oh she's time travelling. She's my daughter from the future

Thorn: What-

Fox: Say hello to your uncle, Leia

Little Leia: Hello, Uncle Thorn 👁👁

Thorn: ...

Thorn: Yeah okay that's definitely your kid

(Thorn and Leia are immediately besties)

[countessofbiscuit]

@ct-1994 adopted a list of one-liners for a SW prompt game (loved the idea), and then this happened in the Arabian Sea. This is the result. 

Happy Hour | Ao3

Teen, 1000 words, Commander Fox & Admiral Salima, Background Foxiyo

“No shit, there I was, a TIT getting soggy and tit-faced off this crazy stacked falleen, procured and paid for by the Provost Marshal Commander of the goddamn Republic.”

— CT-4000 Weber, in a story posted on GAR tacChat, since deleted by the mods. . . . “Commander, if you could spare a moment,” said Admiral Salima, when the Coruscant command meeting adjourned, “there’s something I’d like to show you.”

Obliged to oblige, Fox followed her. Wardroom caf and confab on the Adherent had never been worth sticking around for; and he understood his presence only threw a chill over both.

Salima’s reserve was more familiar. She simply enquired after Thorn (the only brother with a changing view); congratulated Fox on Operation Luster and his promotion (a glorified flimsi shuffle, really); and nearly made a snide remark about his new boss, Admiral Tarkin (the glorified flimsiweight, fashioned from ossified wax) — all in short order. Her conversation remained hard-shouldered throughout; Fox had learned how to corner it comfortably.

She’d been something of a mentor to him, back when Fox and the rest of the Corrie-bound Guard had been little better than cargo from Kamino. He’d been fool enough to hope for mutual attraction; now, he recognized benign curiosity and was grateful Salima had only corrected him in private, with a stern reminder to maintain the straight-and-narrow among his men. She’d had the power to do much worse.

Through the labyrinth they walked. Down the turbolift and straight on till Zhellday, so it felt.

Like Fox, the shine had worn off this ship. The factory smell had long since lost the war of molecular attrition to concentrated crew life, too. The cologne alone exhausted the finest air scrubbers. Home Defense was the gentle proving ground for Core kids who liked home-cooking and Corrie nightlife; the only fleet with a birther majority.

“No doubt it’s just gone on viral on your network, but since you’re here ... ” Salima stiffly prefaced as they entered hangar command. The skeleton crew inside excused themselves, and the Admiral assumed a station at the window. Fox joined her and looked down.

The normally clear flight deck bristled with hardware. Anti-armor weapons, sniper rifles, sonic blasters, carbines galore, power packs, and enough dets to make an EOD tech nervous.

Fox blinked. His helmet would have glitched trying to identify it all. Quite a cache. Quite a coup.

“The shuttle?” Fox said, when comprehension clicked. An unregistered, offbrand Nu-class had been seized yesterday — when it’d been easier to blink away a ‘shabla fucking fuckton’ of Sep and stolen weapons.

“Yes. The pilot was so confident in her scrambled transponder, she didn’t reckon on a visual,” Salima said. “The interdiction team had a hot welcome. Left no one standing.”

Fox hummed his approval. But if Salima had brought him here expecting tears of joy, she’d be kept waiting. He’d only ever wept for Riyo Chuchi — and she approved of weapons about as much as she appreciated hopelessly dead criminals.

If anyone deserved a cry, it was the working party who’d been tasked with dressing the deck down to the inch, tagging everything, and squinting for scrubbed serial numbers. The layout was so religiously uniform, it could only be clone work. And only on Kamino, only to the audio instruction of Jango Fett, had Fox had ever seen grenades arranged rings-inward, two-by-five, to make them easier to count.

“Commander Kathcar’s bright idea,” said Salima, her expression hard. “Claims it was for my birthday. Nerfshit.” She spat the word. “Forget the Seps: ever since I’ve had the misfortune to command him, he’s been locked in an epic battle with CorSec’s OCU for the most testosterone in one holopic.”

Fox glanced at her, completely at sea. He’d only ever fielded complaints up his kama. Collected them like sourgums, and chewed them into a more palatable mass for higher. But a superior griping to him? And birther-on-birther bitching, too? Goddamn unnatural.

“Truly, it’s a mercy he’s on our side,” Fox offered, exerting himself to meet her tone.

“We sing a song of thanksgiving.” And if he wasn’t mistaken, that was Salima sarcasm. “His efforts have been amply recognized,” she went on. “Kathcar’s entire staff has been assigned to the second inventory, the pack-up, and multiple walkdowns.”

Still unsure why he’d been brought to bear witness, Fox mirrored her satisfied stance. Wasn’t hard. Justice had been served, and that was a satisfaction that swelled readily within Commander Fox.

“Don’t suppose you men recognize birthdays,” Salima mused, severely pivoting the conversation. Her hands fidgeted behind her back. “Do you even know when you took your first breath, Commander?”

“I’m sure it’s in the metadata somewhere, sir,” Fox replied, tapping his temple, because birthers assumed they were chipped in the head.

Salima laughed. A real chestful of mirth. And Fox suddenly remembered what he’d seen in her.

“Well, if the troopers responsible for this sexy jigsaw here have ever celebrated a birthday, it must’ve been a muted affair. My staff tell me they’ve never left the ship.” She seemed to buckle under this admission; braced herself on the console with the visible weight of decision-making. Fox tensed. “Two years in space. Mother of Farrik.”

Two years in space, four years in clone, all time that had never belonged to them anyway. Fox shifted his helmet, to worry his left thumb raw instead.

“If you can fit them on your transport — the traffic troops and two more squads, I’d be grateful,” she said, straightening herself and her jacket. “I figure, if anyone can show some young men a good, mostly law-abiding time in Galactic City, it’s your staff.”

Fox was somewhat gobsmacked. But he’d suffer a vac-head shiny upon his lap, if it meant they finally enjoyed some shore leave. “I might know a solid establishment or three.”

Salima actually shook his hand, transferring a high-denomination credit chip from some unseen pocket. “Forty-eight hours. Let them have a birthday party. For me. Don’t make anyone regret it and you can keep the change.” Her mouth scrunched against a smile.

“Yes, sir,” Fox replied, equally guileful and all appreciation.

An all-expenses-paid night on the town was a rare thing. But watching whitejobs practically shit slugs at a mandatory invitation from the strong arm of the law? Always priceless.

. . . . . 

(Ao3)

[redrobinhoods]

Sticks and Stones | Chapter 4, one real thing

AO3 Link | 1,900 words (approx) | Chapter 1, Chapter 3, Chapter 5

A/N: This was going to be the second to last chapter and now it isn't. A little kinder slice of life is planned for the next chapter before the end of the fic. Still have some events mentioned in other fics I want to fit in here.

Chapter Summary: Stone checks in on Fox- and Senator Chuchi- while he is recovering.

Two days, later, Fox was back. While it would take a little longer for him to be cleared for return to active duty, he was to resume his other work in the meantime. Stone could hear the slight commotion in the main offices when Fox entered, a few minutes after he himself had settled into his chair with a cup of caf, but he waited a few minutes to allow Fox to settle in as well before going to check on him.

When Stone opened the door to Fox’s office, he found Senator Chuchi already inside. He had expected that. What he hadn’t expected was for her to be signing a pile of flimsiwork with a near exact replica of Fox’s signature.

“Commander Stone!” She chirped at him as he entered.

“Senator Chuchi.” He greeted, looking past her to where Fox was slumped over, propped up on his elbow, reading through a datapad. He looked exhausted.

“Please, Commander Stone. Would you call me Riyo?”

Stone felt like his tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth. She couldn’t have just asked him that. ‘Riyo’ was Fox’s name for her, not his. “Why?”

“You’ve been a dear comfort to me as of the past few months. Much too dear for you to formally address me in moments like this.” She smiled up at him before turning back to the flimsiplast before her. Stone watched over her shoulder as her fingers directed the writing instrument in her hand into another near perfect replica of Fox’s signature. “Commander?” She prodded when she didn’t get a response, and that was when it clicked for Stone.

“If I can call you Riyo, you can just call me Stone, ma’am.”

“Okay, Stone.”

“Okay, Riyo.” It felt forbidden, but so, technically, was Riyo’s love for his brother.

She looked back at him with a smile before returning to the flimsi before her.

The moment gone, Stone turned his gaze back to Fox. “Are you okay?”

“I’m great.” Fox rasped. “Why do you ask?”

“You look like some being tied you to the back of their speeder and drove circles in a swamp for a few hours with you dragging behind like a shiny in the heat.” Stone made his way around the desk to Fox’s side, taking off a glove as he did so that he could press the back of his hand to Fox’s cheek. “I’m surprised you don’t have a fever.”

“Let me guess, I’ve got more colors in my face than a varactyl feather?”

“Something like that.” Stone chuckled. “Keep your helmet on if you talk to Thire later. He doesn’t need to worry about you right now.”

“Is Commander Thire okay?” Riyo asked with worry in her voice.

“In confidence, Sen- Riyo, the Chancellor has been very demanding as of late. It’s wearing him down.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?” She pressed, and Stone could understand why Fox adored her so. He couldn’t imagine most senators would so genuinely want to help a clone.

Fox solemnly shook his head. “We’ll take care of him, Ri.”

“I’ll let you know if we can’t get more lysinate.” Stone gave her what he hoped was an understanding smile. “It helps the headaches to a degree.”

“Is lysinate the strongest drug you have?”

Stone avoided a direct answer to her question. “It takes the edge off. And we need to be deployable at a moment’s notice. I think Fox is on the strongest drug I’ve ever seen at the moment.”

“His prescription isn’t classified as a strong painkiller.” Riyo protested.

“It is for clones.” Fox shrugged. “Just a flesh wound.”

“I saw your guts, Fox. We both did.” Stone scoffed. “That’s not a just flesh wound.”

“Well, both of my intestines are apparently still in one piece so I would classify this as a flesh wound. It’s my injury, Stone. I get to decide how bad it is.”

“That’s not how it works, Fox.” Riyo laughed before turning her head in Stone’s direction. “Has he always been like this?”

“As long as I’ve known him. I feel sorry for his batchmates back on Kamino, having to live with him all the time.” Though Fox began to protest, Stone continued. “The first memory I have of Fox was listening to him and Wolffe argue from halfway across the training center. I never had a good opinion of him until Geonosis. Nothing brings us clones together like almost dying. I suppose that may have been intentional.”

“Stone fought at my side on Geonosis.” Fox explained. “Our regiments were placed side by side in the battle. He helped me drag Thire out of there, actually.”

“He was hurt?” Riyo asked.

“It’s why he and Thorn ended up running security; they were the most injured of the Corrie Guard officers who survived.” Stone sighed. “It feels like it was longer than three years ago.”

Riyo nodded her agreement. “Feels like the war has been going on forever.”

“It’s going to end soon.” Fox said. “Something’s about to happen, I can feel it.”

“We can only hope it’s the end.” Stone clasped Fox’s shoulder for a moment before stepping away. “I should get back to work.”

Riyo rose from her chair and stepped towards Stone. She held out her arms, waiting for Stone to initiate the hug by stepping towards her before she wrapped her arms around him. “It was good to see you.”

“You too.” Stone murmured out of instinct. This was a new form of intimacy for him. It took the albeit short walk back to his office for him to realize what form of intimacy it was. Friendship. Stone had never had friends before, only lovers and brothers. The feeling would take some time to adjust to.

---

Stone tossed his helmet onto his bed when he returned to the barracks that evening. Fox would be spending the night with Riyo, it would just be him and Thire tonight. He could hear the water in the refresher running and decided to join Thire while there was still hot water left.

“Have you successfully melted the skin off your back yet?” Stone laughed when the wave of steam hit him as he opened the door. A hot shower after a long day was the only form of therapy they could get that didn’t come in the form of other beings or drinks. Stone didn’t think about Thire’s lack of answer until he turned around from shutting the door. “Thire?”

For a moment, the man on the floor before him was Thorn, laying in a pool of blood. Then it wasn’t. With the imagined blood gone, he ran to Thire’s side.

“Thire. Thire!” Stone pulled Thire’s head up into his arms as he looked over Thire’s body for injury. Finding none and getting no response he reached down to check for a pulse, letting out a sob of relief when he found it. “What happened to you, kid?” He murmured as he gently set Thire back on the floor so that he could turn off the tap and fetch a towel.

When Thire was wrapped up in his towel, Stone gathered him in his arms and carried him out of the refresher to lay him down on his bed. Thire didn’t stir when Stone set him down on the hard mattress, nor when Stone sat beside him and gently ran his fingers through his hair. It was only after a few minutes had passed that he stirred under Stone’s touch.

“Hey, kid.” Stone continued to run his fingers through Thire’s hair when he saw how his brother unconsciously leaned into it as he came to.

“What happened?” Thire managed.

“I found you on the ground in the ‘fresher. I thought you-.” Stone’s voice broke and he couldn’t finish the thought.

“Like Thorn.”

“Yes.”

Thire’s eyes turned away from Stone’s, up towards the ceiling. “I am so sorry. I never- I couldn’t put you and Fox through that again.”

“It’s okay, kid. I’m just glad to have you back with me.” Stone reached down with his free hand and clasped Thire’s hand in his, running his thumb in small circles on the back of Thire’s hand. “What happened to you?”

“I must’ve passed out.” Thire’s gaze turned back to Stone. “Maybe the water was too hot and my blood pressure dropped too quickly?”

“Guess you’ll have to stop taking hot showers then.”

Thire’s face broke into a tired smile. “Never.” They sat in silence for a minute before Thire spoke again. “Stone, could you grab my clothes?”

“Yeah.” Stone rose from Thire’s side to reach up for the clothes that dangled from the storage cubby above the bed. “Do you want help?”

“Stone, if I can’t get my greys on then I should probably retire.”

Stone laughed with him as he stepped back to put a fresh pair of his own blacks on. When he turned back around, Thire had managed to get the pants of his blacks on and throw the towel onto the ground. “Do you want a shirt?”

Thire shook his head. “Too constricting. Stone?”

“Thire?”

“Could you hold-.” Thire stopped, biting his lip. He didn’t want to appear weak. Even in just Stone’s presence, the pressure that the Kaminoans had placed on them to be perfect could be felt.

“Of course, Thire.” Stone crossed the room back to Thire’s bed, playfully pushing Thire over so that he could lay down beside him. “Come ‘ere.” He pulled Thire back over to him, wrapping an arm around his waist and tucking Thire’s head under his chin. “Fox thinks that the war is ending soon. When it does, we’ll have a new chancellor, maybe even one you won’t be allergic to. Everything is going to be alright, Thire.”

“I know, Stone. I know.”

---

When Stone woke the next morning, he found Thire’s head still laying on his arm as his younger brother dozed. Despite the numbness in his forearm, Stone stayed still, watching the rise and fall of Thire’s chest. Though Thire was only a month younger than him and he hadn’t been through the stressors that those made to be commanders had, he looked older than Fox did already with his brow furrowed even in sleep. The end of the war had to come soon. But sooner than the end of the war was the time they had to report in by.

“Thire.” Stone murmured.

His brother’s eyes opened on the first mention of his name and he sat up so that Stone could roll out of bed. When Stone came back from the refresher, Thire had already assembled his armor and was reading over a datapad. When he caught Stone’s gaze, Thire turned off the datapad and tossed it back into one of the drawers under his bed. “Do you mind if I borrow Jek and Rys today?”

“Go for it. They’re your batchmates.”

“They’re your men.”

Stone shrugged before bending over to pull his boots on. “I know how close you three are. Besides, I’m not going to have enough work to go around today.”

“Thanks, Stone, for everything.” When Stone couldn’t think of a response, Thire waited patiently for him to finish assembling his armor before falling into step at his side as they stepped back into the barracks.