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thatonefanficwriternooneknows · 5 days ago

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FoxQuin Week Day 6: Time Travel

Good Morning/Afternoon/Evening/Night!

It's here! My favorite fic of the week!!

I honestly had the bestest time writing this one, it was stuck in my head for AGES and I just needed an excuse to write it! Featuring Jaster Mereel, Kal Skirata, Feemor, and MORE!

I really hope you all like it <3 It is a bit of a read clocking in at almost 3.9k words!

Day 6: Time Travel/"Please refrain from kissing the commander while he is on duty, in front of a senator, or a shiny" @foxquinweek

“I have to be honest, this is definitely the weirdest osik to happen to me in my life.” Jaster kriffing Mereel, the Prime’s buir, laughed around the fire him and his ori’ramikad made. It was similar to watching his vode when it came down to competence.

Cody laughed along with him.

“Imagine how we’re feeling! One second we’re boots on the ground in the shebs end of the galaxy and next thing we know we’re in the middle of a Mandalorian civil war.”

There were toasts and mild roasting amongst the vode and the Haat Mando’ade and Cody thought for once it seemed like there was something out there looking out for the Vode.

“I’m simply curious as to what seems to be the criteria for platoons being pulled into the past.” Obi-wan hummed and took a sip of his shig, eyes lighting up at the flavor. That was Cody’s Jedi for you.

“Oh I am as well, Jetii. For the most part it seems almost random. You say you were all separated in your time correct?” Mereel leaned in, the same spark in his eyes that graced the General’s when they found a particularly old temple ruin.

Cody sighed as the two started talking a little beyond his comprehension and looked around at the gathered Platoons.

It wasn’t as many as he wanted, but more still were appearing.

Wolfe and his pack, their Jedi, Koon, Bly and his squad of commandos with their Jedi (whom Bly was guarding from interested Mando’s like he was being paid to), Ponds and his lot and, of course, High General Windu, Faie and his closet vode with the spy Vos (who Obi-wan was close to??), Mundi and Bacara and their ilk, Neyo and his Jedi that Cody really didn’t know the name of, Rex and his maniacs plus little Tano, and a few other brothers with their Jedi that Cody couldn’t see and therefore couldn’t name.

Wait a second.

“I think it has something to do with Jedi, General.” Cody piped up, effectively cutting off Mereel mid-sentence. Whoops.

Several Jedi and their commanders seemed to hear him, otherwise they were all convening on the fire for some other reason. Doubtful.

“Well, I mean, the Force, or the Manda, would have to be involved somehow, there’s no technology I’m aware of that could do this.” Obi-wan looked confused and it was definitely a good look on him. Not that Cody was looking. No sir.

Cody shook his head.

“No, General, I mean that it seems it’s only a Jedi and their assigned platoons that are showing up. I know for a fact the 327th is larger than just twenty troops yet that’s all there are, including Bly. And only the Ghost Squadron is here, and not even all of it. It’s just the vode that work the closest with their Jedi and said Jedi.”

Several heads were nodding around the circle, and Bacara gave him an assessing stare, judging Cody for every word that escaped his lips, before nodding slightly.

Always nice when the Marine backs you up.

“What about the rest of the vode? Is it just going to be the lucky shebs’palon’e that get to come back to a less fraught time?” Ponds frowned, Windu flinching like something was smacking him in the head repeatedly.

“Less fraught?” Kal kriffing Skirate asked, settling next to Mereel too close to be just friendly. Not something Cody would have guessed about Prime’s buir. “We’re in the middle of a system wide Civil War, how is that less fraught?”

Several Commanders couldn’t hold back giggles or chuckles at the question. A system wide civil war. Copikla.

“Well we came from a Galactic Wide Civil War, so yes, less fraught.” Secura snarked. Nice to know that there was a good reason that Bly was boots over buy’ce for her.

“Alright, let’s all stop saying fraught.” Mereel mediated, smiling at the vod who decided to take their buckets off, not even flinching at the face of his ad mirrored in several older beings.

Spine of beskar this one.

There was peaceful murmuring for a while as Cody’s Jedi started to ruminate over his first statement, sipping at his shig every few seconds. The Haat’ade delighting in conversations with various vode about their best battle stories, sharing shig and rations like it was second nature.

The baby Prime was no where to be seen.

Likely trying to hide from his future decision to make millions of children only to abandon them all and declare them non-sentient.

Hard truths.

The cheerful mood was split by Ponds suddenly gasping and looking to Cody with wide eyes. He cocked his head.

“If it’s only vode with Jedi then are we ever going to see Fox’ika again?”

Osik.

Fox was their batch baby and has been a pain to get in contact with since he was docketed as Marshal Commander for the Coruscant Guard. A battalion well known for not having a Jedi because it wasn’t as strenuous a posting as frontline ones.

Kriff if Cody wasn’t regretting feeling happy that their batch baby was going to be safe on Coruscant when the deployments came. Now it meant that he might never see his littlest kih’vod again.

Mereel perked up.

“Fox’ika? An ad?”

Cody shook his head, Ponds, Bly, and Wolffe echoing him.

“Our batch baby. He was the last decanted in our batch so he’s our youngest. Assigned to be the Marshall Commander of the Coruscant Guard.” But kriff if Cody still wasn’t proud of that posting. Three Marshall Commanders in one batch, unheard of.

“The Guard famously doesn’t have a Jetii Commander.” Neyo piped up, grinning wickedly at Wolffe who snapped his teeth at the scout. Those two would never get over their tubie rivalry it seemed.

Obi-wan cocked his head.

“They don’t?” Several Generals echoed his confusion with sounds of their own, looking to their commanders with wide eyes.

“They’re flimsi pushers. Datapad handlers. They don’t need a Jedi for osik like that.” Faie scoffed and if Cody didn’t secretly agree with them then he’d take their head off himself for belittling his vod’ika like that.

It was an important posting.

Even if there was no fighting to be had.

A few of the Haat scoffed at the idea of such a responsibility, not shocking for a culture built around battle and victory.

Mereel just looked concerned.

The rest of Cody’s batch just looked sad.

“Did someone mention the Guard?” Vos popped up into the circle like a particularly stubborn weed, and several Haat’ade jerked in surprise at his appearance. Cody and his vode were not immune to the surprise, either, if the small jumps and dropped jaws said anything.

Faie rolled their whole head as they rolled their eyes.

“We don’t have time for your obsession with the flimsi pushers, General.” They scoffed.

Obi-wan looked at Vos like the Kiffar had grown extra limbs.

“Obsession with the Guard? Quinlan what in the Force?”

It was Vos’ turn to roll his eyes as he settled in between Obi-wan and Secura, shuffling his shebs to make room. Shabuir.

“Commander Faie is being facetious, Obes. I have a perfectly natural interest in the Guard and the image that the rest of the Vode seem to have of them.” Vos sounded relatively normal as he spoke, but he was shooting daggers at Faie the whole time.

Said vod looked shocked at the Mando’a coming out of his General’s mouth.

Not unheard of that some vode don’t feel comfortable sharing the little bit of culture they coveted with tooth and nail with their Jedi. Seems like Faie was one of them.

That brings the question: where did Vos learn it? Especially the preference they had for being called vode.

“Image? The kriff does that mean?” Wolffe growled, lunging for Vos only to be held back by the careful clutch of claws from his Jedi. Good being, that Koon.

“Just that, Commander. When I’ve been in my post as a General with Commander Faie, all I’ve ever heard about the Guard is that they’re flimsi pushers, datapad handlers, wouldn’t know how to handle a blaster with a step-by-step manual. It’s all very rude, honestly. Not my experience at all.” Vos shrugged, looking to Obi-wan with a particular glint in his eye that Cody didn’t like.

“Your experience?” Cody’s General asked, raising a single brow at his friend(?).

Vos opened his mouth, finger firmly in the air, when he was cut off by a shout from across the plains they were camping in.

“JASTER!”

Heads popped up from around the camp, various troopers and commandos in various state of undress looking with wide eyes at the Mando in blue shouting at the Mand’alor.

“Tor?” Mereel voiced to himself, very confused.

“What does that shabuir want?” Kal kriffing Skirata hissed, glaring at the other Mando with a gaze that could kill. “Kriffing Kyr’stad.”

Several vod perked up, looking at the offending Mando with squinted eyes and cocked heads. More blue-clad Mandos started to file up behind this Tor character.

“HOW DARE YOU GET AN ARMY OF JETII INVOLVED IN OUR WAR!”

“An army of Jedi?” Koon muttered, voice lilting slightly as he looked at Wolffe slightly.

“News to me.” Wolffe shrugged, several other Jedi murmuring their agreements.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about Tor!”

It was as Jaster spoke that the first figure clad in a long brown robe appeared on the plains between the Haat’ade camp and the offending Kyr’stad.

“JASTER!”

It was like a signal, and several more figures joined the first, almost a head shorter than them, but all dressed in vaguely Jedi-esque robes, covering them from top to bottom.

Cody couldn’t tell their species considering the robes.

Idly, he noticed that Vos had perked up even more than he had when talking about the Guard. (The kriff was that about?)

“YOU JETIISE HAVE BEEN ATTACK MY CAMPS FOR WEEKS NOW! PREPARE TO FACE ME HEAD ON!” Tor yelled, pointing a lightsaber hilt at the hundreds of robe-clad figured.

It was a signal.

Several thousand Mandos started storming towards the hundreds of beings masking themselves as Jedi and Mereel and Cody’s Jedi made concerned noises.

“We were wondering who was taking pot shots at Tor the past few weeks.” Kal muttered.

Mereel noticed the vode and Jedi’s confusion and elaborated a bit.

“For the last two weeks or so every Kyr’tsad camp we got info on was already hit before we got there. It was uncanny their speed considering no one was there by the time we did.”

The Robed Ones didn’t even twitch at the army of Mandos running at them.

“I didn’t even know there were that many Kyr’tsad for Viszla to call on. Myles grumbled, carefully readying his pistols for the blaster fight that was about the break out. No way hundreds could take on thousands.

Several vode nodded and started shelling up when Vos chuckled, still relaxing in his place around the fire. What a cocky shabuir.

“Master?” Secura questioned, taking her ques from him instead of her troopers.

“Don’t worry, Aayla. I just enjoy watching some beings being forced to eat their words.”

Almost as if planned, as soon as Vos finished talking, music started to reverberate the air, starting low and rising in volume in rhythmic pounding beats.

The Kyr’tsad faltered as every single robed figure, except the first, spread their legs and braced carefully.

An eerie lilting voice started low vocalizations in the music as the tallest figure nodded their head, flexing their hands slightly.

Both figures next to them flourished their hands and blades appeared in them, just in time for the taller to pull his arms back and push them. Very similarly to how Skywalker liked to fling his troopers through the air.

Just the same, the two were flying through the air with more grace than Torrent ever managed, robes flying off to reveal colorful civilian clothing completely different from each other, but both with matching metal masks, not a lick of armor between them.

They landed onto of Kyr’tsad soldiers and downed them in seconds.

It was then the tallest figure started flinging their counterparts in waves, several wielding blades of some sort, some with blasters, and others with nothing but their hands coated in thick gloves.

Cody watched, entranced, as the smaller group decimated the larger, Kyr’tsad falling like bogflies left and right to viciously competent verde.

One memorable take down consisted of a red clad verd kicking the helmet clean off a Kyr’tsad Mando for one of their companions to shoot them in the head.

After the entire army (and it was obviously an army, though maybe not of Jedi) was launched, the larger figure jumped the distance in a single bound, right into a gathering of Kyr’tsad without his verde, and pushed them all out very much like a Jedi.

Within what felt like minutes, the Kyr’tsad force was down to a quarter of what they started with, and they were clearly nervous. Their leader fuming in the back.

It became obvious why when the herd was thinned out a little more.

The same red-clad verd from earlier was single handedly taking out scores of Kyr’tsad with their bare hands.

“YOU!” Tor yelled, “I CHALLENGE YOU TO A DUEL OF SINGLE COMBAT!” he pointed his lightsaber hilt at the verd and ignited it.

The Haat’ade all took a sharp breath.

“The dha’kad.” Was whispered by enough Mandos that Cody took it to mean that it was important somehow. Wonderful.

“We only thought that dar’manda sleemo had it, now he confirms it.” Mereel sucked a breath between his teeth as the battlefield stopped.

Red lifted their head to the Kyr’tsad Alor and nodded decisively, the rest of the masked verde slamming their fists to their chests in a salute eerily similar to the Vode.

Red’s verde formed a long circle around them, pushing back the blue Mandos with glee to make a pathway for Tor to make his way to his challenge.

The larger, still clad in their robe, leaned down to talk quietly with Red, gesturing to something along their back before nodding and joining the circle.

As soon as Tor was inside the circle it closed behind him, still the music played from overhead, always something with a marching beat.

Cody looked up and spotted another masked verd up in one of the few trees on the plain. (He was never gladder that they were up on a hill and could easily make out the actions inside the ring.)

Tor spat at the feet of Red, glaring and putting his helmet on without turning off the lightsaber that he was wielding (badly it seems).

“You have a lightsaber.” Red’s voice was soft but it carried, niggling in Cody’s ear like he recognized it from somewhere he couldn’t place. It did sound awfully familiar.

“It’s the dha’kad, you insolent whelp.” Tor spat, vocoder doing little to hide the sneer in his voice. “Until death is how challenges for this kad generally go. So be good and die quietly.”

That was one angry Mando.

The masked verde didn’t even shift at the threat to their leader.

“Mandokarla.” Someone whispered from behind Cody and he couldn’t help but nod along. Those verde had some serious gett’se.

“Funny.” Red remarked, voice just as plain as it was earlier. “I agree.”

The masked ones saluted again, their reverberating sound changing the music into a loud chant with rhythmic pounding as Tor launched himself at Red. They dodged.

It carried on the same way for the next minute, possibly two, when Tor screamed and lunged again.

“FIGHT BACK, YOU HUT’UUN!” he screamed.

“Alright.” Red responded, and with the next swing of the dha’kad, the verd didn’t move, but with a very familiar swish there was a green lightsaber stopping the black laser sword.

Tor was visibly taken aback, even from as far away as Cody was.

“YOU-!”

Red pushed Tor back before reaching behind themselves and lighting up another ‘saber, this one a bright turquoise and twirled them both, a clear showing that they knew what they were doing and weren’t just mindlessly swinging a laser sword and hoping to achieve something. Coughcough Tor coughcough.

Maybe this one actually was a Jedi.

Or at least had training from one, their ‘saber work was impressively similar to Jedi katas.

It almost looked like Red was playing with the Mando, dodging, parrying, and deflecting, but not taking a single swing with either lightsaber.

“YOU-”

Tor over extended himself and with a swift kick, Red had knocked the dha’kad out of his hand and caught it with his own.

The Kyr’tsad leader was frozen.

With smooth movements, every ‘saber was extinguished and disappeared and an ordinary blaster was pulled and placed underneath Tor’s chin, primed and ready.

“You won’t do it. Shabla hut’uun-” he was cut off as Red pulled the trigger and the bolt sliced through the sparse covering and bounced around in the beskar buy’ce as Tor’s body fell to the ground.

The rest of Death Watch started running off.

A few members of the masked force took off after them, felling them all in swift takedowns and cleverly placed blaster bolts or flourished blades.

“What in the absolute haran?” Kal kriffing Skirata spoke and the rest of the camp was silent, in various states of dress, still.

Then Rex’s maniacs broke the stunned silence.

“Cyare!!”

Fives and Echo took off out the camp, heading for one of the masked verde, tackling them without slowing down an iota.

The mask was removed swiftly and Echo was enthusiastically kissing the revealed face while Fives was babbling excitedly, pausing every now and then to place a chaste kiss on waiting lips.

Wait a second.

Is that?

“I knew you’d show up here, baby.” Vos drawled out, sauntering his way down the hill towards the verd with the dha’kad. Obi-wan made a noise in the back of his throat, reaching out for his batchmate with one hand and holding his lightsaber in his other.

“Thanks for the loan, cyar’ika.” Red spoke, handing over one of the ‘sabers they battled with to Vos, looking up slightly to meet eyes with the Jedi.

Vos ignored the proffered ‘saberto move aside the mask with one hand, his other wrapping around Red’s waist to pull them flush to his body.

In a smooth movement he had captured the other’s lips, pulling them tighter and moving the hand not wrapped around a tapered waist into salt and pepper red hair.

The kiss deepened, and even as far away as Cody was now he could see flashes of tongue and silver metal as they both sank into the kiss, ignoring the Haat’ade who were staring at them, gob smacked.

Cody was certain that they might have gotten a little hot and heavy, had the tall figure in robes not cleared their throat pointedly.

Vos retreated from the verd, but not without a pointed lick at their reddened lower lip. Then he looked up at the other figure with a smile that wouldn’t melt butter, the shabuir.

Before the taller could speak, another verd the same size as Red popped up and jammed a gloved finger into Vos’ chest, growling under his breath.

This caused Vos to raise his hands and start to actually look contrite.

“What are the fucking rules, Vos?” (Cody tried not to flinch at the blatant use of Outer Rim swears, but he doesn’t think he was successful.)

“Come on, Hex, this is extenuating circumstances, surely.”

“What are the fucking rules, Quinlan Vos?” The verd repeated, stabbing into Vos’ chest again. Going by the flinch of the Jedi it was a forceful stab. Not that the shabuir didn’t deserve it, but Cody winced in sympathy.

Vos seemed to deflate.

“Let me start you off, please refrain…”

“From kissing the commander while he is on duty.”

“And?” A stab.

“In front of a senator.”

“And?” Another stab.

“Or in front of a shiny.”

“And you?” Stab.

“Did two of the three.”

“You’re on thin fucking ice, Quinlan Vos.” The verd growled before they were pulled away by two others, feeling them up like they thought that was the hottest thing they had ever seen. (They were almost like vode in that way. Competence kinks, the lot of them.)

The tallest chuckled and Vos stared up at them with a kicked tooka expression.

“Don’t look at me like that, Quinlan, you deserved that. You were told the rules several times.”

“But this is an exception, Fee! It’s not every day you’re sent back into the past and your celo becomes Mand’alor!”

“I did what?!” The verd shouted, turning to Vos with a dropped jaw and looking down at the dha’kad like it killed their entire batch. Ouch.

“Babe. Please.”

“No. I fucking refuse, give it to Cody.” Red threw the ‘kad at Vos and growled when the Jedi threw it back. Wait. Why do they know Cody’s name?

“Pretty sure it can only be exchanged through trial by combat, hon, and we both know you’d wipe the floor with Cody if he challenged you.” Rude.

Hold on a second.

“Fox’ika?”

Cody’s batchers jerked to stare at him with wide eyes, but suddenly, with perfect clarity, Cody knew he was right.

The verd looked up to them and took off their mask. And sure enough, Fox’s mismatched eyes and red hair were clearly seen by all.

Cody didn’t even really care that his kih’vod was officially Mand’alor now. That was his baby batcher, and he’d be damned if he was going to let Quinlan kriffing Vos be that close to him.

His batch was right behind him as they hurried down the hill, piling on to Fox and pushing Vos out of the way.

The tall one caught him so it’s not like he was hurt.

“Thanks, Fee.”

“I don’t think your Commander’s batchmates like you very much, Quinlan.”

“That’s fine. As long as Foxy likes me then there opinions don’t really matter, do they?”

‘Fee’ hummed in response.

After Cody felt like Fox was appropriately smothered, he pulled back, looking him over for any extreme changes since he last saw him.

Apparently that was all Vos needed to slither back in and wrap his arms around Fox’s waist like he was welcome there whenever he wanted to be.

Cody glared at the Jedi even as Fox leaned into Vos’ grasp and kissed the Kiffar on the cheek with a twinkle in his eye that Cody hasn’t seen since Fox was a cadet.

Shabuir.

When Cody and his batch rushed down, so too did the rest of their camp and Cody was graced with a pinched look on Faie’s face like he bit into a sour jogan fruit.

And even though he also needed to figure out just how he felt about watching Fox fight with two lightsabers like a trained Jedi and became Mand’alor, mostly Cody was just glad his batch was complete.

“So how often have you kissed in front of senators and shinies that one of your vod have specific rules about it?”

Force dammit Wolffe.

#screamhoney things #star wars #commander fox #coruscant guard #quinfox #foxquin #foxquinweek #foxquinweek2025 #foxquinweek 2025 #quinlan vos #quinlan x fox

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