Chapter Text
The thing is, Fox really hadn’t thought much about it at the time.
He knew, of course, it was his job to know and he was reminded about it every now and again. But when it happened he had already been swamped with trying to keep Senators and his brothers and the Chancellor alive amid the chaos that was active galactic war. Then came the news, and the crushing grief, and the ceaseless little moments of pain when he thought of Ponds, who was gone now and never coming back. Fox mourned with his remaining batchmates, scattered among the stars though they were, and he leaned a little on his fellow Guard commanders, and he learned to live in the new-yet-the-same world where his youngest batchmate was dead.
And the thing is, even as horrible as that moment was, even that got swept up in the unrelenting pace of diplomatic missions and drug busts and prison riots and hostage crises and fugitives and all of it. After a while it all kind of ran together into one ugly mass of crazy that was, somehow, Fox’s actual life.
But then one of Rex’s boys, some karked up ARC trooper, figured out that they all had chips in their heads and that they were a trap for the Jedi and that they had all been working for a Sith this whole time (whoops!) so then things changed and fast. And Fox was swept up in helping the Jedi overthrow Palpatine and arresting all his cronies and dechipping his brothers. Then he was asked to join the Jedi’s security office and then there were months of Senate bills and protests and elections, becoming a citizen and getting an apartment and trying to figure out how to live like a civilian.
So the thing is, it just fell way to the bottom of the things on his list, and it never came back up.
That is, until Mace kriffing Windu called Fox into his office one day to tell him that he was having Boba Fett pardoned for his crimes and getting him out of prison, and did Fox have any ideas about what to do with him once he was out? Because Boba was a minor and didn’t have any known designated guardians and couldn’t be left alone.
And suddenly Fox was forced to consider something that he had ignored until that moment; that he had seen them put a young clone into an adult prison and just… let him rot there. What was Boba now, 12 or 13? And he had done horrible things, he was the reason Ponds was dead, he was such a little brat on Kamino and he hated all the rest of them. But Boba was a clone, a brother, whether he liked it or not, and Fox hadn’t done a damn thing to help him when he needed it. And now the kid was about to be sent out into the world alone.
So the thing is, when confronted with this sudden realization under the impassive gaze of a Jedi master, Fox did something a little bit stupid.
“So I offered to adopt him,” Fox said with a shrug.
“What?” Bly yelled over the music and the noise around them. He gestured vaguely at his ears.
Fox leaned in closer and tried again, louder, “I’m adopting Boba Fett!”
“Oh!” Bly said, nodding absently. He raised his drink to his lips and took a sip. Then he blinked slowly and turned back to Fox. “Wait, what?” he said loudly.
Fox rolled his eyes. “Never mind, you drunk bastard, I’ll tell you later when you can remember.”
“It’s my wedding!” Bly cried. “I’m supposed to be drunk! And you’re drunk too!” He grabbed Fox by the back of his neck and shook him which, okay, maybe Fox was a little drunk. But not as drunk as his batchmate, who grinned stupidly at him and then turned away from the bar they were sitting at and back toward the crowd around them.
They were at the after party to Bly’s wedding reception, or maybe by now it was the after party to the after party. Anyway, the drinks were flowing, the music was loud, and the room was absolutely packed with clones and Jedi and what appeared to be half the population of Ryloth. Jedi, it turned out, could absolutely put it away, and there was more than one drinking contest going on. Fox had heard they could filter out alcohol, which really seemed like cheating, but wasn’t everything the Jedi could do kind of like cheating?
They were also pretty good dancers. Maybe it was all the saber training. Bly’s gaze was fixed across the room, where Fox could see Master Fisto and his new sister-in-law Aayla Secura (and wasn’t that weird) coaxing some vode out onto the dance floor. Cody had been over there earlier, but Fox couldn’t find him now. And where was Wolffe? He had just seen–
Fox jolted forward as he was pounded forcefully on the back, nearly falling off his stool.
Ah. He had found Wolffe.
“Don’t look so sour, vod’ika!” Wolffe cried right in Fox’s ear as he straightened himself back into his seat. “It’s a party!”
Cody appeared on Fox’s other side, shaking his head. “That’s not fair, Wolffe. You know he can’t help it, he was decanted with that face.” Cody reached out to grab Fox’s chin, who ducked to avoid it but was too slow, alcohol be damned. He was shaken forcefully by the face until he managed to squirm out from under his brother’s hand and knock it away.
“You’re just jealous because I don’t have an ugly karking scar or stupid face tattoos,” Fox grumbled.
“Scars are dignified, Fox.” Wolffe replied, over-enunciating his words in the way of the truly drunk. “They have gravitas.” He gestured wildly with the hand holding his drink, sloshing it over the rim. “Ask that lady over there, the purple Twi’lek. She really liked mine.” Wolffe smiled in a way that might have been called rakish if he hadn’t been swaying a little. Fox could see a smudge of blue lipstick next to his mouth.
“No, wait, no.” Bly interrupted, his attention brought back to the group. “Wolffe, stop – why are you hitting on my wedding guests? Don’t do that. And you,” Bly turned to Fox. “What’s wrong with my tattoos?”
Fox looked at Bly, his eyes wide. Oops. He looked at Wolffe, and they both turned to look at Cody. He was the oldest, so this was his problem. Cody sighed.
“Bly,” Cody said warmly, wrapping his arm around his brother’s shoulders. Cody had a way of appearing stone cold sober even when he was absolutely blasted. Fox wasn’t jealous of it at all.
“Bly,” Cody was saying, “you are my brother and I love you. Today is your wedding day! And because of that, I am not going to tell you what we think of your tattoos. Today, your tattoos are very handsome and they bring out your eyes.”
Bly squinted at Cody, liquor-soaked brain trying to catch up to the meaning of these sincere-sounding words. He eventually reached the right conclusion, because he shoved Cody off of him and grumbled, “Aayla likes my tattoos…”
“Well good, cause she’s the one that has to look at ‘em!” Wolffe cried. They all laughed while Bly huffed and turned back to the bar. He picked up his glass and raised it to his batchmates.
“Well you’re right about one thing, you insufferable idiots,” Bly said, “it is my wedding day. And I’m glad you’re all here even though you’re so mean to me. So, a toast!” Fox and his brothers all raised their glasses. “To the best batch a clone could ask for, even though nobody asked us!”
“Oya!” they all called, and drank. Wolffe choked a little on his drink and Bly pounded him on the back while Cody laughed at him. Fox grinned as he watched his batchmates. He would tell them all about his stupid impulsive idea later. For now, he wanted to celebrate with his closest brothers. They would understand once he explained and it would all be fine.
It was not fine.
Fox and his batchmates gathered a few days later in his office at the Jedi Temple to see Bly off before he left for his honeymoon. Wolffe was also about to leave the planet; he had volunteered to join Plo Koon on a relief mission in the Outer Rim, part of his post-war position as one of many clone-Jedi support teams. Gathering in Fox’s old office at the Senate building had been something of a tradition when his batchmates were on leave on Triple Zero; it was a damp shoebox of an office but it was private, which was better than the barracks or 79’s. Now Fox had a much nicer office at the Temple, with a couch and a potted plant and a window, even.
“You can’t adopt Boba karking Fett!” Wolffe yelled.
“Can you even adopt anyone at all?” Bly asked. “I mean, don’t you have to be evaluated for that?”
“Well I don’t know if I can adopt just anyone, but I can definitely adopt Boba,” Fox replied evenly. He was sitting behind his desk, Bly and Wolffe on the couch in front of him while Cody leaned against the wall by the window. “Master Windu handled all the paperwork, but basically since my DNA proves I’m a blood relative of Boba’s the process is a lot simpler.”
Bly threw up his hands. “But we’re all his blood relatives! All two million of us!”
“Yeah, but I don’t think the juvenile parole board really thought that hard about it.” Fox shrugged. “And with the Master of the Jedi Order looking over their shoulder I guess they decided not to ask too many questions.”
“This is insane,” Wolffe said angrily. “You can’t– he killed Ponds!”
Fox frowned. “He did not.”
“Well, he got Ponds killed!” Wolffe said, jabbing his finger at Fox.
“That’s true.” Fox said.
“And you don’t care?” Wolffe asked.
“Of course I care!” Fox replied. He cared more than he wanted to admit, frankly. “But he was a kid, he’s still a kid. And he watched his dad die in front of him and then he was hanging around with bounty hunter low-lifes who let him do something stupid and he ended up in prison for it. Adult prison! A prison that I was in charge of running, so I know how bad it is in there.” He sighed and looked down at his desk, picking at his thumbnail.
His batchmates looked at each other in silence. “Fox,” Bly began quietly, “you can’t just adopt a kid out of guilt. It’s a huge responsibility.”
“I know,” Fox replied. Bly looked doubtful. “I do! It’s not out of guilt, not really. It’s–” Fox bit his lip and struggled to put into words something even he didn’t totally understand. “Listen, Prime chose Boba to be his son and condemned the rest of us. He didn’t want us to be part of his family, and Boba didn’t either when he was old enough to understand. But then Prime went and got himself killed and he screwed Boba as much as he did us.” Fox shrugged. “No designated guardian, no plan for his future. We never had a dad but we always had each other. Boba had a dad and then he had nothing. But at the end of the day he’s a vod too, even if he doesn’t want to be, and I can’t just… let that go.”
Wolffe grimaced and Bly sighed. Cody spoke up for the first time. “He won’t want to stay with you. He was out on his own before and Obi-Wan said Bossk was watching out for him in the prison.”
Fox snorted. “Yeah, I know. But Bossk isn’t getting out and Boba is going to be on parole for a year. He’ll be monitored and only allowed within certain districts. It should make my job a little easier. Plus he’ll get free food at my place.”
“Oh Force, Fox,” Bly moaned, “how in the Sith hells are you going to feed a kid? You can’t cook! You can barely take care of yourself!”
“Hey,” Fox answered, affronted, “I take care of myself. I figured out that laundry droid problem and I haven’t burned anything in weeks. My place is clean and I’ve got the space since Thorn moved out last month.”
“Your place is clean because you have no furniture, no dishes, and two outfits.” Wolffe groused. “Even General Koon has more than two outfits and he’s a kriffing monk.”
“Fox, you meet the absolute bare minimum of being a functioning adult.” Bly continued. “You’ll have to get the kid clothes and shoes and toys–”
“What, no, he’s thirteen or something, he doesn’t need toys,” Fox interjected.
“Okay fine,” Bly replied, “but that means there’s going to be puberty! And you’ll have to send him to school!”
Fox huffed. “I’m confident I can figure it out. I ran security for this whole ugly planet, I can handle one kid. And anyway, I’m not telling you guys this so you can talk me out of it. It’s a done deal.”
Bly leaned back against the couch and blew out a breath. Wolffe crossed his arms and glared, but remained silent. Fox looked to his eldest batchmate. “Cody, you haven’t said much.”
Cody looked back at him impassively. “Does it have to be you?”
“What?” Fox asked, startled.
“Do you have to be the one to adopt him?” Cody replied. “Like Bly said, there’s two million of us. Why you? Why not someone who’s already adopted some of the cadets, or who trained them on Kamino? Or even a natborn family?”
“Well, Boba has to stay on Coruscant for his parole. I live here, I have a stable job and a home. And I…” Fox trailed off. Why him? Fox didn’t really know how to answer that question. ‘I was there when Windu asked and my mouth spoke before my brain caught up to it’ was not going to cut it.
When Fox didn’t continue Cody sighed. “Well, just be careful, vod’ika. I have a feeling this kid is going to break your heart.”
“My heart?” Fox snorted. “I’m going to be his legal guardian, I’m not trying to be his dad. I just need to watch out for him until he’s old enough to do it himself in a few years.”
“Be sure to keep that in mind,” Cody replied. “I don’t see this ending well.” He straightened up and stretched his arms above his head. “Well boys, we should get going, we’ve all got flights to catch. Walk us to the hangar, Fox?”
“Sure,” Fox said as he stood from behind his desk. “But where are you headed off to?”
“I’m tagging along with Rex, he has some intel on a couple of his missing troopers that might have been captured by the Seppies. Hopefully it’ll be a rescue mission.”
“Just admit it, you're going on another road trip with your bestie!” Bly chimed in as they left Fox’s office and headed down the hallway. “Just like your trip to Rishi moon.”
Cody made a face. “Don’t call it that. It’s an important mission. And that was an inspection tour!”
“Road trip,” Wolffe nodded sagely. “Who’s bringing the snacks?”
“Shut up,” Cody muttered. “You’ve never even been on a road trip.”
"That's because I never made up the dumb idea of doing an inspection tour," Wolffe replied haughtily.
“Last time Rex got to keep the shinies you found,” Fox added. “Are you gonna bring back any souvenirs this time?”
Cody sped up and pulled away from the group. “Thanks for reminding me why I won’t be missing any of you,” he called over his shoulder. “Goodbye forever, ingrates. Fox, don’t do anything stupid with the kid!”
“You know me!” Fox called back.
“Yeah, exactly my point!” came the reply.
What an asshole.
Two days later Fox found himself sitting in a waiting room at the Coruscant prison authority in a creaky folding chair. The lights flickered and buzzed faintly and it smelled like mildew. An elderly Togrutan woman was the only other occupant; she was angrily knitting something in puke green, her needles clacking and her expression thunderous.
Fox could appreciate the feeling. He had spent all morning sitting with a bored looking social worker who had passed him datapad after datapad to sign. After he’d finished that and sat through her monotone explanation about the juvenile parole program, she had shoved a pile of pamphlets into his hands and wished him luck.
He looked down at the slightly-crumpled pamphlets he still held. They were brightly colored and had titles like Learn to Read Your Adopted Teen and Adoption: New Parents, New Problems and How to Make Them Listen. It was all very encouraging.
The sound of clanging bars jolted Fox from his thoughts. He looked up as Boba was led into the room by Stone, one of Fox’s former Coruscant Guard commanders who had taken up a position at the prison. Boba was in his prison jumpsuit and he stood straight and still while Stone unbuckled his restraints. He looked different than Fox remembered; older, of course, and his hair cut short. But his expression was harder than Fox had ever seen it, and though Boba didn’t hunch his shoulders or shrink down he looked… hunted. Ready to flee at any moment. His gaze darted all over the room before landing on Fox. He did not look pleased.
Fox tucked the pamphlets into his bag as he stood and walked over to the pair. Stone turned to him and nodded. “He’s all yours, Fox. His parole officer will check in tomorrow and you’ll get an alert on your comm if there’s any flags on his monitoring chip.”
“Thanks, Stone,” Fox said. He looked at Boba. “Not sure if you remember me, I’m Fox, CC-1010. I’ll be acting as your legal guardian until you reach 18.” Boba said nothing, so Fox cleared his throat and continued. “I brought you some clothes, I figured whatever you were wearing when you came in wouldn’t fit anymore. You can change in the fresher before we get in the speeder.” He pulled the clothes out of the bag and handed them to Boba, who took them silently and headed into the fresher.
When the door closed Stone looked at Fox. “So have you completely lost your mind or is this a cry for help?”
Fox sighed. “Everyone has an opinion, huh?”
“About you adopting Prime Junior? Bossk’s little protégé? Vod, I have several opinions.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t really want to hear it. My batch already chewed me out.”
“Fine, but you call me if he starts anything. That little monster was feral when he got here and he’s only gotten worse. I hope you hid the knives.”
“I can handle one angry teenager,” Fox said with a frown.
“Spoken like a man who’s never had to wrestle a shiv out of that angry teenager’s fist,” Stone replied, eyebrows raised. “I’m serious, call me when it all goes to hell.”
“Always a ray of sunshine, vod,” Fox said, clapping Stone on the shoulder. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
When Boba came out of the fresher, he was wearing the clothes Fox had bought him, but he still didn’t look like a normal kid. The haircut, the hard look in his eyes, it all just added up to something a couple of degrees off from normal. Fox wondered how long it would take for Boba to look like a casual civilian. Fox certainly hadn’t figured out yet himself.
Boba silently followed Fox out of the building to the speeder. “My place is near the Jedi Temple, a couple of levels down,” Fox said as they climbed in. “Do you know your way around Coruscant at all?” Boba grimaced and shook his head.
“Well, pay attention while we’re driving,” Fox said, “cause if you get lost you’ll need to know how to get back– to my place.” Fox nearly referred to his apartment as “home” but that felt very weird. Even if it was going to be Boba’s home for the next few years. Something to get used to.
Boba continued his silence for the whole drive. Fox found himself stealing little glances at him as he drove. He couldn’t help but remember himself and his brothers at that age. They may not have stayed this physical age as long as Boba would, but all the pieces Fox remembered were there.
Gangly? Check. Awkward? Check. Angry? Fox glanced over again and saw the way Boba’s jaw clenched as he turned away and looked pointedly out the window.
Double check.
They arrived at Fox’s building and made their way up to his apartment. It was a simple two bedroom place, a decent size by Coruscanti standards, and on a high enough level that the windows still managed to catch the light that made it down this far. The front door opened next to the kitchen and faced the combination dining and sitting area in the middle of the apartment. On the right and the left were hallways leading to two identical freshers and bedrooms.
It was… spartan, Fox supposed. Tidy. A couch and a large chair in the sitting room, a simple two-person table and chairs in the dining space. A holoprojector and the plant that the Jedi had gotten him as a housewarming gift. Not much in the way of decor, maybe, but it was a work in progress. Fox had originally gotten the place to share with Thorn, who had only lived there for a few months before moving in with a new girlfriend. Fox didn’t really think this one would last (the last three hadn’t) but he had already decided that it would be Thorn’s problem to solve if they broke up and he had nowhere to live.
Fox ushered Boba toward Thorn’s empty room. Fox had gone out and bought some basics, linens and toiletries and some outfits, plus whatever the woman at the store had recommended under the mysterious category of “school supplies.” He had also found a desk at a second-hand store and shoved it into the narrow space next to the bed. The room still didn’t look like anyone actually lived there, but Fox felt certain Boba would acquire more things soon. Everyone he spoke to while he was shopping seemed to want to impress upon him how expensive children were.
“So, this is your room,” Fox said with an encompassing gesture. “Uh, some ground rules, I guess. Stay out of my room and I’ll stay out of yours unless I have to come in. You’ll be starting school next week, but we’ll go over there tomorrow so they can evaluate what level you’re at. Uh, I’ll drive you between school and here, and to your parole appointments. That’s about all the traveling you’ll be doing for now; later we can talk about going out and activities or whatever.”
Boba stared at him and didn’t react. Fox looked around at the room he’d put together. It felt a lot emptier and dingier than it had before he’d come to pick Boba up. He cleared his throat and continued, “I expect you to do well at school, I don’t want to hear about any fights or slacking off. And you’ll do your homework on time. Otherwise, um, the holoprojector is in the other room and I got you a datapad so you should have plenty to do.”
Fox shrugged. “Look, kid, I’m not a mind reader. If you need anything else, if you want to do something, just ask me. We’ll work on it, it’s gonna take a while to figure all this out. But I’m here to watch out for you so just– let me know what you need.”
Boba looked back at him, expression inscrutable. It reminded Fox of Cody, and it was just as annoying as he was. Like trying to have a conversation with a durasteel wall.
“Well!” Fox went on brightly, trying to overcome the terrible awkwardness. “It’s your first night out of prison and I’m not much of a cook, so I thought I’d order something special. Anything you’ve been craving?” he asked.
Boba’s eyes narrowed for a moment. Fox felt he was being assessed for sincerity, so he kept his expression open and his posture casual. He didn’t have anything to hide from the kid. Eventually he must have been found worthy, because Boba opened his mouth and uttered the first word he had spoken in Fox’s presence.
“Tiingilar,” he said.
Fox smirked. That made sense. “Sure,” he replied, “I know a place in Little Keldabe, I’ll call it in. Get yourself situated, I’ll be in the main room.” He retreated and left Boba to explore his new bedroom.
When dinner arrived, Boba joined Fox at his small table. At his first bite, Boba’s face went red and he sputtered, reaching quickly for his glass of water and gulping it down.
Fox grinned. “Been a while, huh?”
Boba shook his head and wiped his mouth. “It’s spicier than I remembered.”
“Prison rations are pretty bland,” Fox replied. “You’ll get used to it again.”
Boba eyed him warily. “Doesn’t seem too spicy for you.”
“I’ve been living on Coruscant for three years, kid, I can eat just about anything by now.”
“You were with the Guard, then?” Boba asked, taking another careful bite.
Fox nodded and explained his work as the Commander of the Guard. When Boba asked what he did now, he described his job at the Temple, and talked a bit about where his other friends from the Guard had ended up. Then Fox explained some about how the war had ended and the fallout with the Chancellor, since Boba had only heard rumors on the inside.
All in all they had a pleasant if stilted conversation; two people who didn’t really know each other trying to get comfortable in each other's spaces. Boba was quiet, but mostly polite; he didn’t act like the brat Fox remembered from Kamino. By the time they went to bed, Boba even smiled at Fox before he went into his room for the night. It seemed like Boba might be warming up to him just a little.
Fox didn’t trust it for a second.
The first escape attempt came at 0200.
Fox hadn’t even bothered trying to fall asleep; he had just turned off the lights in his room and laid quietly in the dark. So when he heard the blaring alarm from the monitoring chip on his comm, he quickly and calmly left his room, crossed the apartment, and overrode the controls to Boba’s door.
Inside, he found the kid standing in the middle of the room, blood streaming from his shoulder where he was using a crude-looking blade to try and pry out the monitoring chip. As soon as Boba saw the door was open he snarled, dropping into a defensive stance and pointing the shiv at Fox. “Stay the hell away from me, meat droid!” he cried.
Yep, there we go. This was the Boba that Fox remembered from Kamino.
Fox sighed and leaned against the doorframe. “What do you think is going to happen here, kid?” he asked.
“I’m getting the kriff away from you and the kriff off this planet, that’s what,” Boba replied. He held the knife steady but his eyes were wild. He reminded Fox of a cornered animal.
“Heading out on your own didn’t work out so well last time,” Fox stated. “And you really think I’m about to let you walk out of here without a fight?”
“I’m not scared of you,” Boba declared hotly. “My dad taught me how to fight.”
Fox rolled his eyes. “Prime taught us all how to fight, kid. And then he drilled the rest of us on it for ten years straight. Somehow I doubt he was as thorough with you.” He straightened from his lean and dropped into a loose stance. "Why don't we find out?"
Boba stiffened but didn’t move.
Fox beckoned with his hands. “Come on, give it a go. I’d like to get some sleep toni–”
Boba charged at him with a cry, brandishing the knife. Fox easily darted in under his arm, disarming Boba with one hand and grabbing him by the back of the neck with the other. He turned and slammed the kid into the ground.
Boba stared up at him. Fox stepped back. “Is that all?” he asked.
Boba snarled again and scrambled to his feet. Fox waited, the knife in his hands. Boba charged again, this time going low to grapple. Fox quickly side-stepped, slammed a knee straight into the kid’s gut, and toppled him again.
“Better,” Fox declared, “but you’re going to have to be faster than that.”
Boba wheezed on his hands and knees. He glared up at Fox from the floor. Slowly he got to his feet again and warily stood, weight on the balls of his feet. He didn’t charge this time, but waited. Fox smiled and settled into his stance again. He could wait; he wasn’t the one trying to get away.
Boba’s attempt at patience didn’t last long. He feinted this time, pretended to go for the legs again and at the last second made a grab for the knife. Fox was ready for it anyway, hooking a leg behind Boba’s knee and slamming him into the ground again. Boba gasped, the wind knocked out of him. He lay there on the floor, chest heaving, and didn’t try to get up this time. He looked supremely angry about it.
Fox stepped back and sighed. “Don’t sweat it, kid,” he said, “I’ve had a lot of practice putting cadets down on the mats.”
Boba sneered at him. “I’m not a cadet!” he declared, still a little breathless. “I’m not like you!”
Fox shrugged. “Doesn’t matter what you call yourself. I know how to handle anyone fighting with that body.”
Boba made a face. Fox continued, “Come on, let’s get to the fresher and put some bacta on that shoulder. You’re bleeding on my carpet.”
His words were met with an icy glare and resentful silence.
Fox sighed. “Look, kid, we really don’t have to do this. I know you don’t want to be here. I know you’re gonna try this again. But you’ve lost this round, so just take the lesson and accept a little help. Then we can both get some sleep before dawn.”
Boba grimaced, but he held up a hand to be pulled off the ground. Fox leaned down to grab it, and when Boba predictably tried to yank Fox off balance he promptly flipped the kid onto his front and pressed a knee into his back, arm held behind him at an uncomfortable angle.
“How are you so karking fast?” Boba cried, dropping his forehead against the ground.
“If you don’t kill me in my sleep tonight maybe I’ll get around to showing you,” Fox replied, letting go of the arm and standing again.
“No promises,” Boba grumbled as he climbed to his feet. Fox decided he would let that one go.
They went into the fresher where Boba let Fox clean and bandage his shoulder in silence. They returned to their rooms and Fox found his comm pinging with missed calls and messages from Stone. The tracking chip’s alarm must have triggered an alert at the prison.
Fox sat heavily on the bed and entered Stone’s number. When the comm call picked up Stone looked relieved. “Oh good,” he said, “you’re not dead.”
Fox smirked and waggled the shiv at the holoimage. “I don’t know what you were complaining about, vod. It wasn’t that hard to get this off of him.”
Stone sighed. “I told you that kid is a nightmare.”
“Yeah, well, he was mostly using this to try and carve that chip out of his shoulder. If I hadn’t interrupted he probably would have snuck out and not bothered slitting my throat.”
“Well, that’s very reassuring,” Stone replied sarcastically. “Kid okay?”
“Yeah,” Fox said, tiredly rubbing his hand over his eyes, “he’s patched up. Probably gonna be kinda sore in the morning.” He waved the knife again. “But he definitely picked this thing up at the prison, you’re gonna need to do a sweep.”
“Kark,” Stone replied. “It was probably in the fresher, someone must have left it for him there.”
Fox frowned. “You think he’s got connections on the outside?”
“No, but his buddy Bossk sure does.” Stone waved dismissively. “Get some sleep, I’ll look into it and let you know what I find. Don’t get murdered in your bed.”
Fox huffed a laugh. “No promises,” he replied as he hung up the call. He settled into bed and prepared to actually sleep this time.
One day down, only five years to go.