Chapter Text
Something Fox had read one time he was laid up in medbay drifted up from memory as he walked back early from his appointment with the MD droids. “If you have to look along the shaft of an arrow from the wrong end, if a man has you entirely at his mercy, then hope like hell that man is an evil man. Because the evil like power, power over people, and they want to see you in fear. They want to see you know that you’re going to die.”
Anikan Skywalker had just proved that statement completely true. Thire was alive but barely. He’d been force choked by an irate Anakin Skywalker, after his vod lost track of Jocasta Nu, who had been breaking into the old jedi temple. Oh sorry, not Anikan Skywalker, the chosen one was calling himself Darth Vader, now that he’d gone full sith, poncy git. He was currently leaving orbit to chase after the old fleeing Jedi librarian. Fox doubted the ex-Jedi have any better luck than he would on the ground but what did he know? Maybe Nu would just toy with the failed Chosen one some more.
The MD droid who Fox was supposed to have his gynecological appointment with had been too busy working with Patch to resuscitate Thire. And Fox had been more than willing to postpone. It was just a procedural exam at this point. He’s a fit, in shape, relatively young omega at the end of his 1rst trimester and just beginning to show. Fox even still fits in his armor. It should be an easy, first pregnancy. There’s not much to do but monitor.
Thire on the other hand was now sedated and intubated in medbay but he’ll live.
Fox’s appointment had been rescheduled to later in the week. Although it had seemed like hours, the emergency had actually taken much less time than the exam would have.
So he’s early, striding through the halls in full armor and with his arms swinging freely. He doesn’t wear armor as much anymore and he’s appreciating the novelty. He has time before Ṕ̸̨͓̈́à̴̦l̷̠̰̫̿̊p̷͖̭̌̈́̂͜ą̵̺̓͝ţ̶͕̍͋i̵̧̪͛n̶̠̤̈́ë̵́̓͜ ̵̺͙͝A̶̢̜͛͝l̴͉̞̫͂p̸̞̮͊̑͘h̵͇̬̣̓̋a̸͓͐̕ ̶̰͇̫͑͂M̴̭̤͚̚a̴̢͙̾̃s̶̡̛͔͛̏t̶͇͙̀̈́͜e̶̠͝r̸͚̩̰̃̆expects him back. He can go give his vod the news about Thire.
Blasted Anikan Skywalker, Blasted Sith.
He walks in to guard barracks where is vod are waiting anxiously and shares their relief when he tells them Thire’s going to be ok. It’s times like this that make all of Fox’s sacrifices worth it. He protects them.
Then he counts heads. Stone’s on patrol, but where’s Thorn? Where is the other omega, among Coruscant guard commanders. Where was he while Fox was out for his exam? “Where is Thorn?” Fox asks, already dreading the answer.
The room goes quiet. And then Rys speaks up. “He got called into the emperor while you were out. Ordered to attend him personally.”
“Any idea, what about?” Fox asks, his stomach sinking like a lead weight.
Rys looks pale, “No, but he got called down to the private safe rooms on the lower levels.” The private safe rooms, some of the most secure in the galaxy, furnished lushly specifically for the chancellor. The rooms where…
“I’m going down there.”
Rys looks pained. “Fox…”
“No one else is to go down there until I give the all clear,” he orders.
“Fox…” his vod’ika protests, but Fox doesn’t want to hear it.
“That’s an order soldier.”
“Yessir.” Fox nods in acknowledgement and heads out the door. This would not be the first time he’s made the journey down uninvited.
***
Fox kneels before his M̵̧̢̛̛̠̣͂̅́͒̃́̓̓̾̒̈́͜ą̵̗̩̣̻͙͛͜s̸̟̮͔̉̏͌͛͛͛̃͆́̓̋̓̀̚͝͝t̶̢̬̃̀̔́̃͛͋̽̽͂̌͐͐̑͑́͝e̶̬̼͉̰͕̗̔̀ͅr̷̨̧͕̣̣̹̩̺͚̀͛̈́̋͂̔̈́̔̃͋̄̏͗͛̕̚. Helmet at his side, collar open, scent patches off. He hopes he smells more of submission than desperation. “Freely given is worth more to you isn’t it, sir. If I do it because of my own will without having to force me.” His master approaches and Fox feels like he’s a piece of meat in the market.
“Yes, Commander Fox,” his emperor says, circling him like a Kamino deep sea leviathan hunting its prey, “a willing sacrifice always is.”
“What do you propose, my sweet?” The Sith Lord stops in front of him, hand reaching out to cup Fox’s cheek. Fox forces himself not to recoil. He can do this.
***
His master is seated on the black throne and has Thorn stripped down to his blacks and pulled up into his lap. Thorn’s head is snugged up against Palpatine’s shoulder right against the Sith Lord scent glands. The scent glands he never let Fox mark, although Fox carries his alpha’s bite across his own. Fox can smell Thorn across the room. His implant has failed and is flooding the room with omega scent just as Fox’s had when he was first deployed to Coruscant.
***
An evil man … ”They’ll talk. They’ll gloat.
They’ll watch you squirm. They’ll put off the moment of murder like another man would put off a good cigar.
So hope like hell your captor is an evil man.”
***
“If I do this,” Fox begged the Sith Lord. “You leave my men alone. I’ll keep my mouth shut, coordinate my heats with your schedule, do whatever you want.”
“Oh commander,” his master whispered, slowly stroking Fox’s chin down to his scent glands, “you wouldn’t be wanting exclusivity would you my sweet. Are you jealous, my pet?”
Fox breathes in, the alpha scent of spilled blood filling his senses, and making everything feel like it’s on fire. “Just me alpha. Don’t touch them.”
His master runs his fingers over Fox’s lips. “That is a very steep bargain commander, what do I get from it, omega.”
Fox releases his scent, glad he had opened his collar as he was coming in. “You get me master. On site, on call for anything you want.”
“And here I thought I already had you,” his alpha’s breath hisses over Fox’s mating gland.
Fox can’t bite back his involuntary gasp. “You do, master, just leave my men alone.”
“Even if I mark you, and turn you into nothing but a broodmare. There are no Jedi left to protect you now.”
“Yes, master,” Fox had known there was no hope for him once he came in. “Do whatever you want to me alpha, just leave my men alone.”
“Then rise, my omega, I do believe it’s time to breed you properly.” Fox follows the Sith Lord knowing he made the only choice he could live with.
***
Palpatine looks up at Fox’s approach, and the alpha breaks into a smile. “Commander Fox, come join us. I was just helping this poor omega with his heat.”
“Sir.” Fox replies.
Thorn mutters, “Ori’vod,” but doesn’t even raise his head digging his nose deeper into the source of Palpatine’s scent.
Now one thing he’s found most natborns and even some vod don’t understand. When you’re fighting someone, or even just playing a sport you have to stop thinking. If you think in a fight you’re too slow and then you’re dead. It's got to be muscle memory because otherwise you can’t keep up. That’s what training is for, to build that muscle memory and synchronization. Fox has been shooting since he was 5 and is one of the best shots in the GAR.
So he doesn’t even think, he acts. He falls in a weaver stance, his DC-17 pistol coming up, and his double tap shot nails Palpatine right between the eyes. Unexpectedly the Sith Lord explodes like a thermal detonator, so Fox grabs Thorn and dives for cover.
A line from the same book drifts up in his head as he covers Thorn with his body as bits of the Sith Lord and debris fly around them. “Pray you never face a good man … He’ll kill you with hardly a word.” Did this make him a good man? Fox didn’t know. He just knows he would do anything to protect his vod. And he finally had.