We Follow Orders...But Delivery?
"So--this is what i get?"
Fox swiveled in his chair, spinning his blaster on a finger while giving the commander before him a piercing glare. "After leading my men, soldiers of war, in pointless, kriffin' wars that were somehow won by my men, I now have to act as a common consignment droid?" Before his current venting, the Commander had been speaking with Thorn, a close friend of his, who had dropped in for some friendly conversing. However, things would not end on friendly terms when one of Fox's squad mates came in to give him his next--lovely assignment.
"We are the main defense of Coruscant," Fox continued, "I live and breathe protection protocol for the Senate and the Republic and Palpatine himself! Why do I have to do this?" he jutted an accusing finger at the package that had been placed on his desk.
The Coruscant Guard soldier shuffled his feet but said nothing. Thorn bore an uneasy look, being caught in between one of Fox's many angry rants. However he could not blame him. As soldiers, their blood boiled for a fight every living second; it was an instinct. To not answer said instinct or, in Fox's case, being locked away in a Senate's office all day, doing nothing real exciting, would drive one insane.
Thorn was sure he could see smoke wafting from the Commander's ears. He tried to conjure up some type of smoldering words for him but, as a fellow Coruscant Guardsmen who maned as an escort to Senators, speaking out and telling his CO to calm down would be hypocritical. "Fox--"
The Commander was cut off. "It's all I do these days; papers, work, filing, eating, sleeping. Nothing worth my rank or existence! For kriff sakes I'm not a sepi droid!"
Thorn finally stepped in with a taming hand. "Fox, please, get a hold of yourself. You are the one of the elite Senior Commanders, The Chancellor's most trusted guard. I'm sure this lull in mission activity and--" he glanced at the package, "unusual assignments means nothing."
Fox blinked as he turned over Thorn's words. His shoulders finally relaxed, however his bitter grimace showed continuing disdain. The Commander gave a huff and turned to the window behind him, crossing his arms in silent irritation. Thorn gave a loud sigh in defeat. It was obvious the Commander's pride was hurt over a silly matter such as this. But it seemed that he would not get over it easily. So Thorn quietly made his leave, giving a gesture of encouragement to the clone who still waited to be dismissed by his Commander.
Lost in thought, Fox didn't even realize Thorn had left. His piercing glare was busily critiquing Coruscant's buildings and traffic lights below. The night sky was beautiful this night, with a visible star belt in the sky and flashing lights of shuttles as they entered and left the port. The city lights danced below as its people were alive with the joy of twilight.
Slowly, his mind drifted to the battles the front liners would be facing at this hour. It was probably day time there, bright and daunting as the adrenaline fueled their mind and focus like a drug; waiting to fire at the next droid they saw peek it's ugly metal head out from the bushes of the battle field. That feeling, that lust for a fight, was something he had tasted during Geonosis and craved ever since. He was jealous of any clone who fought on the front lines, facing dangers and death and hearing blaster fire fly over their heads in chaotic battles.
Must be Jango's blood that pumped through his veins.
"Commander? Are you alright? You've been staring out the window for a while..."
Fox had forgotten Arrow was still here. But never mind that. He was busy--busy figuring out this kriffing new assignment that meant absolutely nothing to him and just added to his work load. Day in, day out, the Senior Commander worked away the hours, guarding certain districts, arresting your average thief, and jailing bounty hunters. Day in, day out, he slowly stopped caring. Almost a year had past since the battle of Geonosis and already he felt his humanity fading away as he was turned into an office droid instead of doing what he was bred to do.
And day in, day out, he stopped asking questions--or at least vocally anyways. There was literally no reason too. Everything was what it was and he had no say in any of it. It was always: do this mission--protect him with your life--file these reports--the Chancellor needs you too do this. Maybe, after the war ended, he'd take up a career in office work. That's was he was good for anyways.
Fox wondered vaguely what bounty hunting was like, since he jailed so many of them and his blood line was literally from the best bounty hunter himself. He thought about Jango Fett often, wondering what his life was like when scouring the glaxy, completely free, nothing to hold him back. Fox also thought what his own life would be like if he followed Jango Fett's footsteps as a bounty hunter too--instead of being stuck with filing away criminals on a planet he knew like the back of his hand.
There were some crazy events he could celebrate through the boring paper work; the time he saved Senator Padme Amidala's life from Zero the Hutt's slimy grasp was a good one, even though he only recieved one thanks, from her, during the long, boring flight home--what joy. Missions like that made him feel like a lifeless tool to this crazy civil war.
Fox rubbed his eyes. Maybe he should be more positive. He was doing some amazing work for the Chancellor. Why just the other day he filed thirty-two cases! But, apart from all that excitement, he now had a delivery to make...
Fox turned to his desk and inspected the package. Address to the temple, it was heavy, the weight centered in the middle, and was securly packed away so the contents would not slid. He looked up to the clone who was still standing patiently before him with his hands behind his back. He was smiling broadly and gave Fox an enthusiastic thumbs up, as if Fox needed encouragement to feel happy about this. Fox just stared at him for the longest of moments, irritated, annoyed, completely done with life.
"Arrow, Arrow..." the Commander finally said.
The clone wasn't sure he liked the tone his Commander was giving him. "Yes, s-sir?"
Fox took a slow deep breath. "You do know I am the Senior Commander of the 401st Coruscant Guard, correct?"
Arrow shuffled a foot. "Y-yes, s-si-"
"THEN WHY AM I BEING ASKED TO DELIVER A DAMN BOX!?"
Arrow winced, shielding himself as Fox prepared to chuck the box at his face. "Stop, stop, wait!" When he saw Fox pause--just in time too--he sighed gratefully then continued. "With all do respect sir, this is a chance. For you to get out! Please sir, it bothers the men when you ramble and complain like a housewife."
Fox narrowed his glare. "I do not complain every second! Like how I am NOT complaining about your armor that clearly needs to be shined!"
Right, like you aren't the morther hen of the whole legion, Arrow thought bitterly. "Just...sir," he said, forcing a positive response, "We all know you need to get out of the office more. And this is that chance! Take it, make the most of it! There's even a scenic route for you! I'll handle the work while you are gone, deal?"
The Commander thought for a brief moment, glaring at Arrow, glaring at the box, and glaring at the paperwork on his desk. Fox just stared at him, running a hand down his face, stopping it at his nose, massaging it. "Fine, whatever..." he retorted with a sigh, "This better be worth it, Arrow."
Arrow nodded and gave a giddy salute. He was Fox's right-hand man, his ward if anything else, but a friend at most...a good one. He knew what his Commander needed, even when he himself didn't know.
It would be worth it.
Fox left the premise and took a long, decorative street, the same route Arrow had picked for him. Looking at the city lights, he was still wondering if this had been a good idea when he decided to inspect the contents of the box he carried under his arm. Looking closer at the label for a better view, Fox read...Cak-
"Wait, this is a cake?" He blurted, "What is so important about a damn cake!? WHAT AM I TO THOSE KRIFFING DI-"