Chapter Text
Cody was furious, it was one thing for Fox to miss a few calls, to lose track of time and forget to send a comm and only talk with them when they commed him even if it was only short calls or messages, but to cut them out and stop talking to them, this... his ignoring their calls, every single one of them, it was just childish.
Well, they were all on Coruscant, Bly and Rex and Ponds and Wolffe, and Fox was coming with them to 79s for a drink. He needed to stop ignoring them and grow up. Did he think being in the Guard made him special, better than them, was that why he never called? Arrogant paper pushing bastard. Did he really think he was so above them now, because they were just soldiers and he worked in the fancy halls with all the rich Senators, probably being gifted wines and bonbons and all that extravagant nonsense.
He loved his vod, he did, but kriff if Fox didn't need a reality check. Working with Chancellor Palpatine didn't make him special.
He lost the anger to the weight of how much he'd missed his vod as he approached the Guard's barracks, and it was completely gone by the time he reached the gate.
He missed Fox, he missed spending time with him, he missed the younger brother who was always looking after everyone when they thought they were looking after him, even if he was only younger by a few minutes. He missed him, but that was changing, Fox was going to spend time with them, talk to them, open up the way he hadn't since the war started.
They'd make sure of it.
A guard met him at the gate, armour painted the way all the Guard's seemed to be, same pattern, no individuality, no personality.
"ID check."
"CC-2224, Commander Cody, 212th."
"Purpose of visit?"
"I'm here to see Commander Fox."
The guard paused, shoulders dropping slightly, taking on an exhausted and exasperated tone but with something else mixed in, "Sir, you real purpose of visit?"
"I... I'm here to see Fox."
"I'll comm the Commander."
Did many vode come here pretending to see batchmates with other plans in mind? And he was a Martial Commander. Why wouldn't they believe someone of his rank would want to speak with someone of Fox's. What was Fox teaching these shinies. Maybe this one was new, they sounded young.
A clone with more individualised armour approached, and the one he'd been talking too almost slumped with relief, and backed away.
"Commander Cody?"
"Commander...?"
"Velt. Kepi said you were here to see Commander Fox?"
"Yes, is there a problem?"
"I'm sorry, I know it was added to his file. I assumed you would have known."
"Know what?"
"Commander Fox... he's marching on. Was killed a little over a month ago now, as well as most of our command. I and a few others got promoted fast to fill the void. I'm sorry to be the one to tell you, Commander."
And the world dropped out from under Cody's feet...
.
.
.
Velt didn't need stuck up, self-absorbed commanders coming to their gates. He didn't need Cody of 212th pretending he cared so much when he couldn't even be bothered to check Fox's status before coming, and now Kepi was upset again. He'd have to send a little memo to Pup to keep an eye on their vod after such a blunt reminder. One of Kepi’s batchmates had been in the Guard, and he’d vanished a week before in the exact same manner as their old Commanders. This had clearly brought it all back to the surface again.
Losing their commanders had been agonising. Because they hadn't died in combat, they hadn't died in any way measurable.
They'd vanished, special assignment the file said, but even the shinies in the Guard knew what that meant.
He'd been the one to fill in their forms as KIA, because they deserved better than the MIA on their files, because they'd never run or leave them behind, not Fox, not Thire, not Thorn, not Stone, not Fix, not Hound.
They'd never leave the rest of them behind.
And it wasn't like the rest of the Guard hadn't noticed the Chancellor's interest with them, the way they got called into his office. The things they mentioned, about blackouts and memory voids and all sorts that just didn't sit right. The discussions they tried to keep to their room, the things they tried to protect the rest of the Guard from.
Things Velt was lucky enough to be experiencing now.
He didn't know how they'd done it for so long on top of looking after the Guard, except that they'd done what he was doing now.
Managing because he had to, for their vod'ike.
When vode vanished on ‘special assignments’, Palpatine always had a mood the next day. Sometimes good, sometimes bad, and the running theory was that Palpatine was using them for something and his reaction was based on the results he was getting. Of course, they were just theories, a body would help them find more, but they never found even one, no matter how many of their vode vanished.
If anything he was surprised Palpatine had chosen them, instead of the shinies he usually favoured, the ones only the Guard would miss.
But Velt also knew that they'd worked out something, worked out what Palpatine was planning, what was happening. They'd probably worked out whatever Palpatine had been doing to them, what Palpatine had wanted from them, why he'd been isolating the Guard and hurting them so. He'd found out they'd worked it out, probably that they'd been close to exposing him. Close to saving them.
And now they were dead.
No bodies, no trace. There would be nothing to find, there never was. Velt had their files, the ones hidden in places no-one would have looked, could have thought to look, except the vode who knew. He'd spent the last month reading through the horrors they'd recorded and detailed, the parts of the plot they'd uncovered, the... what they’d uncovered of the fates of so many of their vode who'd vanished. Nothing easy to understand or detailed, but numbers and success or failure markers, other numbers and letters that made up a code they’d never cracked. The code that was the key to learning of their fates.
Fates that now matched their own.
Velt had this information, as well as a few of the other new commanders, but everyone knew the truth.
Everyone knew they were dead.
He just hoped their march was easier now.
.
.
.
79's was loud as always, but somehow it was all muffled for Cody. He'd lost so many vode, but he'd never lost a batchmate... this, this was Fox, this was his vod'ika Fox.
This was the brother who'd laughed at Rex when he'd lost a tooth and started calling him Cody instead of Kote, not mocked Rex, but joined in teasing Cody instead. This was the brother that had jumped between them and trainers again and again to protect them. This was the brother who'd held them when they'd cried and always been there.
He'd been in the Guard, isolated from them all, he hadn't spoken to Fox for so long, he couldn't even remember the last thing he'd said to him... no, that was a lie.
He remembered it perfectly.
Remembered Fox going rigid and saying he had another comm, one he had to take. Remembered Fox having been about to tell him something. Remembered hating that Fox was so willing to rush off and leave them, when he'd needed Fox's support.
Had Fox needed their support?
Fox had been scared of something.
He'd wanted to say something to him, and he'd forgotten it so quickly, forgotten the pain and worry in his eyes, the near-panic at the new comm. They hadn't seemed... they hadn't seemed like pain or panic at the time. Now in his memories, it was there with stark clarity.
Fox had been terrified.
And he’d never noticed before.
"Hey," Wolffe called him over, "what, no Fox? Is he too busy for us, again? Too happy in his fancy office to come drink with us real soldiers. Do you think he even... Cody?"
"He's gone, Wolffe. He's been gone for a month."
"Gone? You mean, redeployed?"
Rex sounded almost hopeful, but Cody knew he knew the truth.
Fox was dead.
He'd checked on the way to 79’s, and just like the new Commander had claimed, Fox had been KIA for a month.
He'd been dead a month.
None of them had known.
He downed a shot of the clear liquid on the table.
"He... a month ago. I... they updated his status to KIA a month ago, how didn't we realise." He slammed his hand onto the table, "How did none of us know."
He could see the way they slumped, the way Ponds dropped his chin to his chest, the way Wolffe ran his hands through his hair, Bly taking his shot as well as the other three on the table, Rex's shaking hands.
Fox was gone, and he'd been gone for a month, and none of them had noticed.