#how long can red go without writing corrie guard challenge

[redrobinhoods]

knife to the throat | Febuwhump 2023

CW: Character Death

Summary: Thorn checks in on a Corrie patrol

A/N: Have a scene from my next fic… as a treat.

AO3 Link | Febuwhump Index

Thorn stormed into the offices of the Coruscant Guard like a hurricane.

He watched a shiny flinch out of the corner of his eye as he walked past, kama beating at his sides, to shove open the door to Fox’s office.

Fox barely glanced up at him, waiting for the door to close before he spoke. “What’s wrong?”

“Where’s my lieutenant?”

“He’s on patrol.” Fox set down the datapad to turn his gaze towards Thorn. “I asked him to take command of Kilo’s route in his absence.”

“His leg-”

“Is nearly healed. You’re such a mother hen, Thorn.”

Thorn’s shoulders shook as he heaved in a long breath. “Where are they?”

“Thorn.” Fox sighed even as he brought up his comm to transfer the coordinates. “You can’t…” He let his words trail off, brows lowering into concern.

“Can’t what, Fox?” Thorn’s comm chimed as it received the message. “Protect him?”

He knew Fox wouldn’t argue against that, wouldn’t dare go head-to-head with the subject.

“I’m just going to check on them.” Thorn said, biting back the anger in his voice. “Routine inspection.”

“You’re going to scare the shit out of Kilo’s men is what you’re going to do. They’re all terrified of you.”

Thorn shrugged as he turned towards the door. “Good.”

-

Thorn found the squad’s speeder with ease, leaving his own beside it.

It had been a few weeks since he’d ventured into the underbelly of Coruscant and he took a few moments to look at the planned route before disembarking the speeder. He’d intersect them, perhaps join them for the remainder of the route. How Thire would roll his eyes at him, echoing Fox’s ‘mother hen’ comments. It was better than the alternative scenario that smothered his thoughts.

It only took a few moments to calculate their approximate location in his head, a few more to decide where to meet the route and backtrack to ensure he didn’t miss them.

Then Thorn was off.

He had been following the patrol’s route for ten minutes without sign of them when he heard a scuffling in an alleyway. When his head turned, he caught a flash of Coruscant red as one of the clone troopers fell away from the assailant, shield falling to the ground.

Thorn moved into the alley, drawing the blaster at his side.

He regretted the action when it caused the clone trooper standing behind the trandoshan to pause, his helmet snapping towards Thorn to assess the potential new threat. Before Thorn could fire his blaster, the trandoshan had turned, grabbing the clone and tugging him before him.

Two of the three troopers already lay on the ground. The one at the trandoshan’s feet still stirred, his hand resting on the bloodying wound at his side. The other lay unmoving at Thorn’s feet, his helmet at an extreme angle.

Thorn felt sick to his stomach at the realization that he couldn’t tell the three men apart. Not when their armor was the same age and freshly repainted.

The trandoshan ripped off the clone’s helmet, flinging it to the ground with enough force for the plastoid to shatter as he brought the knife to his throat.

Thorn’s hands didn’t shake as he kept the blaster pointing forward. “Let him go.”

The trandoshan hissed and spoke as he began to draw the knife along the clone’s throat. “Let this be a lesson not to interfere-”

Thorn fired. The shot found its way to its target, his eye, and the trandoshan fell backwards. The clone in his hands fell forwards onto his knees, grasping at his throat.

“This is Commander Thorn calling for medics,” Thorn commed the Coruscant Rescue Ops as he rushed to his brother’s side. “Three men down with critical injuries.”

He knelt down beside the clone, reaching for the bacta at his side. His stomach turned when he realized it would be useless but still pressed it from the tube into his hands as he brought the man down into his lap.

“Look at me, look at me.” Thorn said as he replaced his brother’s hand with his own, smearing the bacta into the gaping wound. “I’ve got you.”

Thorn spared a glance over his shoulder to the man behind him, who had found his own bacta tube, and turned back to the man before him. He knew that Rescue Ops wouldn’t make it in time, not as each breath his brother took gargled in his throat.

Thorn removed his helmet to meet his brother’s gaze. He fought down the nausea in his stomach at the fear it contained as the man fought to breathe.

“It’s okay, you can rest.”

The man’s eyes widened and he shook his head, Thorn’s hand slipping from the blood running down his neck.

“Look at me,” Thorn said again softly, taking the man’s blood covered hand in his own. “You can let go. No one will ever hurt you again. You’ve done your duty.”

The man shook his head, chest heaving as he struggled for each breath.

There was an ache in Thorn’s chest as he pressed his forehead to the man’s own, cradling him. He didn’t even know his name, but he could feel tears welling in his eyes as he grasped the man’s hand. Had things been different, it could’ve been Thire he was holding now. Perhaps Thire was already dead. But he couldn’t withdraw from the man before him, couldn’t let him die alone as so many men had on Geonosis.

He let the gathering tears fall as his brother stilled with his last breath. He couldn’t bring himself to rise, couldn’t bear the odds he was about to face as to who lived or died.

A hand came to rest on his shoulder before the man’s weight fell against him with a groan of pain.

Thorn let his hand fall from the dead man’s throat, reaching his arm around to support the brother that had come to him, bringing him into his side.

The man let his head fall upon Thorn’s shoulder with a sigh. “We need to randomize the patrol routes. He was waiting for us.”

Thorn leaned his head against Thire’s, guilt rising in his chest at the utter relief he felt that two other men had died and not him. “Are you okay?”

Thire gave him a quiet hum in response that was nearly drowned out by the sound of the approaching speeders.

Thorn let go of the dead man’s hand to usher over the medics, giving Thire’s shoulder a squeeze before letting them take him. The guilt of his relief threatened to pull him under, but Thorn pushed it down as the Coruscant Rescue Ops took over the scene.