#also squadnames are like childhood nicknames and wolffe and thire are Very Tired about the jokes made about theirs lol

[ravensilversea]

Victory Comes Late

Summary: Victory came too late for Ponds and for so many other brothers. Three years of war plus some months of hashing out a peace treaty written in the blood, sweat, and tears of his brothers but makes no mention of them at all. It’s a Senate proclaimed accomplishment, like they hadn’t refused to even consider peace for three years.

Tags: Canon Divergence, Palpatine Dies AU, Post-War, Light Angst, Grief/Mourning, Reunions, Bittersweet Ending

The largest exhibition hall in the Jedi Temple is almost too small for the sheer number of clone troopers in it now. Really, it is actually too small, but none of them are too concerned with the concept of personal space when this is the first time they’ve all been together for three years.

And yet, Fox pulls his helmet off and tucks it beneath his arm. His guard brushes past him, calling out into the space that’s already echoing with brothers trying to find each other. And yet, they aren’t all here.

Rancor Battalion is still on Kamino and participating in negotiations alongside General Ti to hopefully place the cadets and tubies into the custody of their brothers. The thought alone is almost inconceivable: entire batches of clones who never have to serve on a battlefield, who can stay together and stay alive for years longer than their elder brothers could.

“You joining the party, Fox?” Stone asks, coming to stand beside him.

“You really think Salvo would let us miss it?” Fox walks into the exhibition hall instead of just hovering in the doorway. “Besides, someone has to tell them all how the chancellor really died.”

Ao3

Stone coughs into his hand. “Would that be the actual story or another one of your tales this time?”

Fox refuses to learn about any of the details of Chancellor Palpatine’s, unfortunate, accident. It would ruin the fun of coming up with stupider and stupider ways the late chancellor died and sharing them around the caf brewer. Call it his own personal revenge against the man who insisted on calling each and every one of his brothers by CC or CT number and number alone, the way the Guard all but tiptoed around him, how many of his brother assigned to the chancellor’s guard when traveling off planet simply disappeared without a trace, and every single shiny who the chancellor sent down into the lower levels who came back in a body bag, if at all.

“I have a list of stupid ways for asshole politicians to die, and this might be my only chance to share any of them,” Fox says primly. “Allow me my fun.”

Stone shakes his head. “If you say so.”

They weave through a particularly thick crowd of brothers, and someone flags them down. “Hey commanders, I think your squads are meeting over on the stands!”

“That’ll be Cody’s idea,” Fox mutters as Stone thanks the brother for the directions. “Always did need to be on top of things.”

“Not sure the stands top Tipoca City’s comm tower.”

Fox looks up at the ceiling that rises so high above their heads it can barely be seen and then gives Stone a look.

“Okay, so maybe they could.”

The commander squads are gathered in a clump in the middle of the stands, and sure enough, Cody’s yellow-orange paint is higher than anybody else, shining like a beacon. Fox and Stone pass Alpha Squad on their way up the stands where Wolffe and Thire look about two seconds from murdering a squadmate or two.

“I’m sorry,” Gregor says just as they pass by, “but do you think you could repeat that? Or maybe replay it? I’m not sure I heard you correct-ly!” His voice rises sharply as he falls back under the weight of two brothers, and Fox hops up a handful of rows. Stone jumps back with a curse.

Poet looks up from their padd with a distinct ‘can you believe I’m stuck with them?’ expression of their face. Fox bites his lip and shakes his head, mentally wishing them good luck. 

Force, Alpha’s only missing Blitz whose stuck on Kamino. They all made it, the lucky bastards.

“Fox! Stone!” Salvo slams into Fox with a broad grin and pulls Stone up the remaining steps to wrap his arm around him too. For a moment, the three of them just breathe. “It’s good to see you again,” Salvo whispers.

“Yeah,” Fox pulls away and meets Gree’s eyes over Salvo’s head. “Wait until you hear what happened to the chancellor.”

“The old one, right? Cause the one we have now is an upgrade.” Gree throws a thumb back over his shoulder. “C’mon, we grabbed a spot by Chimaera.”

Fox starts laying out the first ‘So this is what I heard from somebody who heard it from somebody’ as they walk lengthwise along the stands until Gree and Salvo pull them down onto the benches. Just above them sits Chimaera Squad with it’s three near-silent members. As he tells his story, Fox watches Neyo try to get Keller and Faie to say more than a few words strung together, and it suddenly hits him that both Lock and Colt were dead.

The story ends, and his brothers make noises of disbelief. “Oh really?” Fox says. “Well, how about this one that I heard from a janitor who heard it from his sister’s husband’s brother’s friend.” Stone buries his head in his hands with a groan.

Ponds would have told Fox to stop by the second story, but he’s not around to hear them. The lack of protest from that quarter sits heavy in Fox’s chest. He barrels through the story anyway, almost even more spitefully. 

Victory came too late for Ponds and for so many other brothers. Three years of war plus some months of hashing out a peace treaty written in the blood, sweat, and tears of his brothers but makes no mention of them at all. It’s a Senate proclaimed accomplishment, like they hadn’t refused to even consider peace for three years.

Almost four years of war because of one man who strung them all along like dew drops on a tent-line.

Fox’s eyes land on a small empty space in a sea of brothers, and his next words die in his throat. There’s a brother standing in the middle of the empty space. He’s thin with shaved hair and implant scars. What’s left of one arm is in a sling across his body, and Fox knows who he is even without the blue of the 501st edging his almost shiny-white, probably borrowed armor.

Come get your Dominoes, Rex had messaged three years ago.

Unless they’re commanders, I don’t claim them, and even that’s debatable, he had messaged back.

Within days, Rex had informed him that due to the sudden death of their commanding officers and the subsequent lack of collection by Fox (Fox had rolled his eyes at this), he was personally taking them under his wing. Rex then spent every other message to Fox bragging about ‘his Dominoes’ like there wasn’t hundreds of Domino training squads spread throughout the army.

For a moment, Fox selfishly wishes that Echo truly had died on the infamous Citadel mission. Seeing him standing alone in a sea of reuniting brothers when Fox is the one who killed his last squadmate…

Victory really did come too late for Rex's Domino squad. 

The reunions and conversations continue on around Fox, blurring into the background. A sea of noise and color turning into a drone as a time seems to slow, but Echo never blurs. He continues to stand alone, seemingly in the middle of a swirling galaxy of brothers without a single person to welcome him home.

Fox finds his feet moving without any input from him. He's halfway down the stairs before Salvo asks him where he's going. “To get another Domino,” he says, almost under his breath, but his squad hears him just the same. 

The floor of the exhibition hall seems to echo with his footsteps. Which is impossible. First of all, the sheer number of clones in the room alone would drown out any noise Fox could possibly make even if they weren't talking at loud volumes. Second of all, there was no way in hell that the Jedi didn't sound proof this room within an inch of its life given the number of lightsaber duels- duels between children at that!- this room must have been used for.

Maybe his footsteps are echoing through him, Fox muses. He takes another step and feels it in his chest.

Time and sound suddenly crash into Fox. Conversations burst into a roar, suddenly Fox can hear so many squadname jokes all at once. It no longer feels like he's stepping through taffy, and all he can do is stand there. Like an idiot. Just in front of Echo.

Force, all he has to do is lift his arm and he could touch this orphaned shell of a brother.

Well, maybe not a shell, he reconsiders as Echo straightens, jutting his chin out a bit and brown eyes flashing with a challenge. There's still quite a bit of fight left in his one, which is more than Fox can say for the Chimaera commanders back on the stairs. 

“Echo,” Fox says, figuring that's as good a start as any.

“What do you want, commander?”

Fox falters. Opening and closing his mouth, he glances back at his squad who have ceased any and all conversations to stare at him trying and failing to talk to a CT.

“If you're here to apologize, don't. There's nothing you can say,” Echo continues, and Fox winces. If it was his squadmate shot and killed by another's hand, he doesn't think he would have said those words so mournfully acceptingly. No. Every trooper in this hall would likely have to hold him back from trying to beat the shit out of the one who killed his squadmate.

He flexes his hands, tries not to imagine how Aurra Singh's neck would feel wrapped in them as he squeezes the life out of her for what she did to Ponds. 

“It's not something that can be forgiven, no matter how much I regret it,” Fox says. “But that isn't why I'm here, trooper... Echo.”

“Then why, sir?”

For a moment, Fox hesitates, unsure of whether his invitation, his touch would be welcome, but he decides to do it anyway. He reaches out and gently grabs Echo's remaining wrist and lightly tugs it in the direction of the stadium. “Come on. No Domino gets left behind.”

He waits for Echo to take the first step, watching his brother's eyes blink, widen, and then sharpen. Echo looks past Fox towards the Domino commanders, and whatever he sees there, convinces him.

Fox settles Echo down in the empty spot where Ponds should be, and the way Echo looks around with brighter eyes and a harsh swallow tells him everything about how Rex's little dominoes must have gathered too.

Setting that aside, Fox turns back to his brothers. “Now, where were we? Oh yes, so the Chancellor had ordered breakfast and for some reason, this involved fish. And you know how fish have these tiny little bones they don't always manage to get out when preparing them?”

Gree sighs loudly as he realizes where Fox is going with this latest story about Palpatine's death, and Salvo begins slapping Fox's knee like that's going to stop him. Behind him, Echo muffles a snort, and Fox grins.

Victory came late, but not too late. There are still brothers here who were saved after all.