Chapter Text
The rusty steel ladder creaked in warning under his feet but held as Fox went deeper and deeper into the heart of Coruscant to a place no human had been in years. The air was hazy from all the pollution and he was glad his helmet filtered the worst of it, stopping him from coughing. It let him make his last walk with dignity.
He had donned the armor a final time, the red standing out against the gray of the planet even in the dim light of his helmet flashlight. Only a few more clicks until he reached his destination and everything would be over.
There would be no more entitled senators to deal with, demanding the impossible without giving the resources to archive it. No one to lay blame on him for every mission that went wrong and every fallen brother. No citizens threatening him like an object or taking their anger out on him. No more GAR joking that the guard was a cushy job without knowing what was going on behind the scenes. No frontliners using their shore leave to stir up trouble. No more batchmates that ignored him ever since he was transferred to Coruscant, that made fun of him like everybody else behind his back.
Fox just couldn’t do it anymore, not alone. Not when he expected to be stabbed in the back by his own man rather than be supported. Not since he had lost Thorne. Everything had gone to shit after that. But now everything would be over.
The platform under his feet was unstable as he stood over the huge landfill. Coruscant was rotting on the inside, literally. To keep up the pristine appearance of the upper levels everything nasty and unwanted was dumped here. From common trash to broken speeders, to bodies. You wanted it gone, you shoved it in the trash compartments and it would make its way here thanks to the never-tiring droids. And once it was here it was gone. The guard had found that out the hard way when Fox had just become the Commander. They had investigated the murder of a young senator speaking up against the war efforts. The crime scene with all the blood was easily found but they missed the crucial 24 hours to retrieve the body before it joined the landfill. To this day it was never found and he lost three good troopers when the senate demanded they go into the landfill and search it. Once entered there was no getting back out. The steady stream of new trash and the metal teeth shredding everything under the surface made sure of that.
So why was Fox standing over the carnage? Why had he made the effort to come down here? Why not take an easier way out?
Because Fox had to disappear, completely and without a trace. There could be nothing left, nothing for people to find, he wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of making things easy. No, they would have to search for all eternity.
He pulled off his helmet the smell hitting him and he gagged glad he was smart enough to skip breakfast and last night's dinner. After a few minutes of just breathing things became bearable and he stared down at the expressionless features of his helmet. His companion, his shield, his identity. His breath shuttered even though he had promised himself to be strong, to not cry. He needed to do this, there was no other way.
One last time he pressed his forehead against his helmet, his breath fogging up the visor, thanking it for its service and apologizing for being so weak and unable to live up to the burden the helmet brought. Fox leaned forward, his fingers letting go. He watched as the helmet got smaller and smaller until it hit the ground, being swallowed and disappeared from view.
This was it. There was no going back now. Commander Fox of the Coruscant guard was no more. Just another victim in the violent mess of a planet, joining his brothers and marching forward.
The rest of his easily distinguishable armor followed, taken off with practiced movements. Throwing them down from the platform was easier than the helmet and once he was done just standing there in his blacks and an emergency vibroblade he felt lighter than he had in years. Maybe ever. Even when he was a cadet on Kamino there had been fear of decommissioning, but now there was nothing. If you lived years in hell like Fox did there was nothing more to fear. The only way for Fox now was up.
And he started by getting out of this hellhole and back to the more respectable levels. Not having the heavy armor made things easier but Fox also felt vulnerable and as he returned to levels meant for human habitation he stuck to the shadows and hid his face with a piece of cloth. Still, he was relieved when he finally reached his safe house. Well, more of a safe hole. He couldn’t risk buying property and leaving a money trail and it could be no building having any connection with the guard, which ruled out all empty buildings stormed by the guard because of criminal activity.
He finally settled on a small one-room apartment, long since abandoned after the poor construction had brought most of the building down around it. No one would suspect even a single unit still stood, the normal entryway was completely gone and you had to climb unstable rubble to get up and squeeze through a crack in the wall. Still, it was perfect for Fox's needs. He would hear anyone coming up, not that anyone was willing to make the climb and there was a leaking water pipe, which hadn’t been turned off thanks to slow-going bureaucracy. All the place needed was some rations and blankets. Now there was also the addition of a stuffed backpack.
Inside was armor. White. Shiny.
The last puzzle piece of his grand escape plan. Take the insults that had been thrown at him and his brothers all his life and turn them into a tool of his escape. He was just a clone, looking like any other. One of a million, just a cog in the machine, easily replaceable.
In his paranoia he hadn’t taken the helmet off in a long time, not feeling safe. The only person who had seen his face was gone now. It was ironic, everyone despises Commander Fox but no one even knew his face. If he met them in the streets now they wouldn’t even suspect a thing.
He couldn’t pass as a shiny, too marked by life, face scarred, but he didn’t have to. Troopers got shuffled around all the time when their squad or battalion died. Most of them didn’t make it long too traumatized by the events, but they still fulfilled their duty before a blaster bold freed them. It had been easy enough to find an incident with an isolated platoon that nearly got whipped out. It was not big enough of a mess to cause a stir and get too much attention but big enough that it was easy enough to change the paperwork. No one noticed that there was suddenly another survivor. And since Fox had chosen to put himself in a squat full of batch mates who had all died there was no one left to disprove the lone survivor.
After a quick buzz cut, and donning the blank armor Vulpe left the abounded building and marched towards the spaceport to be reassigned to his new battalion.
Finding one hadn't been easy. He had wanted to be assigned somewhere where no one had ever had contact with Commander Fox. But all potential battalions were stuck in long campaigns or had just taken in new troops. The Wolfpack was out as well because Wolffe, the bastard, after years of not caring, would still manage to recognize him somehow.
In the end, he settled on the 212th since they were passing by Coruscant to restock and could pick him up. Cody had been Fox's batchmate, but Vulpe doubted he would even get to see the busy man. He had changed since their last meeting on Kamino so he doubted he would be discovered.
He found the hanger named in his transfer paperwork easily enough as he had patrolled the spaceport regularly. There was no transporter to get to the Venator-class Star Destroyer in sight. But he was early. A habit of the guard since not being at least 10 minutes early was too late and could be punished. So he stood there and waited. And waited. But no one came to pick him up and there was not a hint of orange armor anywhere. Had he already been forgotten before even joining the battalion? Or was the 212th so unorganized they had lost his transfer paperwork?
Vulpe glared under his helmet, arms crossed, body language annoyed, keeping away the concerned droids from coming up and asking if they could be of assistance. A show of emotion he could never have allowed himself as Marshal Commander as he was under constant surveillance. But as a normal trooper, he was allowed to show his emotions and it was freeing.
An hour passed and by now people made a wide breath around him, scared of the rage they could feel rolling off him. If his escape plan failed because of the 212th's incompetence he would find a way on the ship himself and stab Cody consequences be damned.
He was contemplating the merits of joining the Separatists compared to a crew of smugglers when he heard hasty footsteps behind himself. Spinning around he looked at the man clad in orange armor, who nearly fell on his face in his haste. Too bad he didn’t. Him kissing the floor would have been a way better condolence than just seeing the red cheeks and unsteady breath as the trooper took off his helmet.
“Your CT-666 right,” the clone smiled warmly at him and held out his hand to shake. Vulpe should take it, be friendly, to make integration easier and not stand out. He didn’t want to. Too long had he bowed his head trying to be what others wanted. It was time to be himself. Luckily the tragic backstory of losing his whole batch gave a good enough excuse for being a bastard.
His short nod and blatant ignoration of the hand made the clone in front of him falter but he caught himself rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.
“Sorry I’m so late there was an incident we had to take care of and only after did we notice no one had come to pick you up. I’m Wooly, by the way. What’s your name?”
Vulpe let some of the hostility drop out of his frame as the other apologize. He still wasn’t happy, but he could manage.
“Vulpe.”
Wooly smiled brightly and tried to drag him to a transport shuttle in the neighboring hangar. Vulpe shook his hand off easily enough, ignoring the sad puppy eyes as he walked towards the shuttle on his own. Once inside, they strapped in and Wolley started their descent chatting excitedly.
“We rarely get transfers like you. Usually, it's shinies from Kamino. Just two weeks ago we picked up a new batch. They settling in okay but Gregor thinks adding another new face to the mix could mess things up so you are with me and my unit. Your file said you already had battle experience so I guess you won’t mind skipping all the training shinies get.”
Vulpe nodded. He had never gotten the shiny training as he theoretically wasn’t meant for combat as Commander of the Guard. But he had survived hell so whatever they thought the shinies to bring up the survival rate he didn’t need it. And he also didn’t need a shinie, shocked by their first battle crying on him. No, an experienced unit was way preferable.
“You don’t talk much, don’t cha?” Wooley inquired and Vulpe rolled his eyes wishing they had sent someone less chatty to pick him up.
“I talk when it is important.”
Wooley didn’t get it and continued chattering: “So why are you transferring to us and not to a battalion with a batchmate or someone else knowing you to make things easier on you.”
“They were all slaughtered, every last one of them.”
Silence, finally. Vulpe looked out at the stars as they got closer and closer to his new home. The Venator was impressive with its size and he was almost giddy at the thought of being on it. Finally able to see the galaxy.
The landing was smooth and he had to give at least some credit to Wooley for being a good pilot. Whenever he had been in a transporter with Thorne he had feared for his- no don’t think about him. Don’t let your mind go down that road.
They were expected by another trooper upon leaving the shuttle. “Crys,” Wooley called out excitedly jogging towards him, Vulpe following at a much slower pace: “Meet our new roommate, Vulpe.”
Crys pulled off his helmet, and nodded in greeting, his blonde long hair was not up to regulation, but no one around them seem to notice. The procedures must be rather lax. Vulpe just nodded back not taking off his helmet making Crys frown at him. Vulpe didn’t care. He was more comfortable with the bucket firmly in place and his face hidden.
“Before we can get you settled in we need to go by medical so Helix can have a look at you.”
Vulpe froze at that, there had been no mention of a medical exam in his transfer paperwork.
“All my medical information is one file.”
“Yeah but Helix wants to check anyway, we had a few transfers whose paperwork was sloppy and they nearly died because of it. It won’t take long.”
Fuck. This was messing up his plan, he wasn’t prepared for a medical exam. He had written the file with his information himself and it was the truth mostly. But there were also things he would rather not have a medic get a better look at without sync-skin to cover things up or at least a layer of makeup. All things he didn’t have yet because he had anticipated his bag being searched and didn’t want to carry suspicious material.
Wooley's hand landed on his neck making him go stiff as he fought the instinct to lash out and incapacitate the man for touching him.
“Hey, it's alright, medical is no fun but we will come with you and you can hold my hand.”
As if. Vulpe spun so the hand came off him and pushed Wooly against the chest, the man stumbling back a few steps and out of grabbing distance.
“I don’t need your help,” Vulpe hissed the dark drawl he usually held in slipping out and he could see the shock on the other's face as he spun and stalked off towards medical. He should not know the layout of the ship, but he had sliced the plan of this exact destroyer and studied it. He pulled out his datapad, mostly blank like all new devices are, opened the chat with Vulpes ‘batchmates’, clicked on a photo of the whole batch, and there on the symbol on the armor. The screen went dark and after a second the pad was full with all the stuff a normal trooper wasn’t supposed to have, but Vulpe needed. Like the exact locations of the service station for cleaning droids and the keycode for it.
He ducked into the small dark room the droids charging in their stations peeped in panic as his sudden appearance brought them back online. He sunk to the ground and pressed his hand against his neck the other absentmindedly patted the droid closest to him, reassuring them all he was no danger.
He could feel phantom fingers pressing against his neck as he was pressed down into the ground unable to do anything as he watched his men die, a cold blade against his skin and pain.
A knock against the door startled him and he went for the vibroblade hidden in his boot.
“Hey, it’s Crys. Are you okay?”
“How did you find me.”
“Sliced the cameras. So are you okay?”
Damn, he had messed up, he hadn’t expected someone to care enough to slice the cameras, since no one in the guard cared much if he disappeared as long as he was back on time for his shift. Or perhaps it was not worry but surveillance since he was new and couldn’t be trusted yet?
He straightened and stepped through the door, which was locked behind him. He fell into easy parade rest expecting to be punished for entering a restricted area. But Crys just gestured down the hall and started walking again.
“Wooley is sorry for startling you. We had no idea touching would set you off. If you tell Helix, if it is just the neck or touch in general he will add it to your file so people can be more careful.”
They would be considerate of his shortcomings? And they called the guard a cushy position when they were being pampered here. But Vulpe didn’t want any of his weaknesses on file no matter how small. It would give people the upper hand when attacking.
Wooley was waiting for them in front of the medbay apologizing with tears in his eyes. To his surprise, Crys didn’t rat him out when asked where Vulpe had been. It could be a ploy to gain his trust but it would need further investigation.
Inside Helix was waiting, with the no-nonsense attitude all medics seem to have. He had Vulpes medical file on his datapad, parts of it highlighted.
“I see you brought our new transfer. Okay, armor and blacks off, and we can get this over with as fast as possible.”
When Vulpe didn't start following orders the impatient medic reached out toward Vulpe but was stopped by Crys.
"He doesn't like touch. Touching his neck sent him running."
Helix instantly took a step back giving Vulpe some space. Nice gesture but didn't mean much with an anxious Wooley hovering just behind Vulpe.
"Why wasn't I informed of that beforehand? There was no note in the file."
"Didn't know since 10 minutes ago."
Helix whirled on Cry's murder in his eyes.
"Are you telling me you just set him off 10 minutes ago and brought him here to be poked after?!"
"I'm sorry," Wooley was honest to good sobbing, very distressed by everything. This made Helix stumble since he tried to stop people from having panic attacks not giving them himself. Crys in the meantime looked at the door wanting to flee from all the emotions.
Vulpe sighted taking pity on everybody and started pulling off his armor:
"I don't like touch but I know better than to refuse treatment when I'm wounded. As long as I'm expecting it I can deal. Necks always off limit."
Rapid tipping, mostly likely Helix writing that down for further reference.
With all the armor gone Vulpe felt vulnerable and he couldn't wait for this to be over. Stalling wouldn't help so he just pulled off the top of his blacks revealing his upper body. Shocked gasps erupted in the room. Helix even dropped his datapad before getting into Vulpes space but smartly stopped himself before touching Vulpes neck.
"What is that?!"
His voice was strained as he pointed at the scar on Vulpes's neck. Vulpe couldn't even be mad at it as it had been something he had planned to hide with sync-skin and it was not on his file.
The scar ran over his throat a perfect cut that would have made him bleed out in minutes. No one knew how he survived it even less managed to get back to the barracks on his own but Thorne had thrown a fit and didn't leave Fox out of his eyes for months after.
"Just a scar."
"Just a scar! Are you kidding me? I don't even know how you are still here. Why wasn't it in your file?"
Vulpe just shrugged not thinking any of the questions was worth answering. Giving up to many details would only make his lies more obvious in the long run.
"Does it hurt?"
"Skin feels thighs sometimes or itches, but otherwise no trouble."
"Thanks for small blessings," Helix sighted before letting out the next outcry as he spotted more scars. Some, like the cuts on his face, had been in the file and fit the story of being the sole survivor of an attack. The Lichtenberg figures all over his torso hadn't been mentioned.
"What the hell happened here? How did you get these."
"Electricity," Vulpe shrugged not caring, "I think. Can't remember."
More frantic scribbling on the datapad, pictures being taken of his scars. The one that showed his face made Vulpe wince, it still felt wrong to have proof of how he looked documented. One more thing he would have to get rid of at some point. When everything was over and he finally was let out with a stern talk to eat more he felt drained wishing back the guard medics that didn't give a fuck and just fixed what he told them and left the rest alone.
"You were so brave," Wooley looked at him wanting to hug him. Vulpe stepped to the side putting Crys between them. The slicer seemed to not be overly touchy. Sadly they didn't go to their room but to the mess hall since Helix had said Vulpe needed to eat more.
Vulpe sat down with his back against the wall and a view over the whole room without grabbing any food. Wooley sat beside him with two trays pushing on to Vulpe who ignored it.
"Come on man you need to eat or I will have to snitch to Helix. I got a lot so there should be something you can eat."
Crys joined him with another trooper called Trapper, the new arrival looking curiously at Vulpe making him want to take off his helmet even less.
"What is the problem? It is not the food since you haven't even looked at it. Is it the people?" Wooley was sharper than Vulpe had thought as he identified the issue.
"Okay. I can understand being shy and you could eat in your room but I tell you sooner or later you will have to take it off in front of people and the longer you wait the more attention you will draw."
The worse part was that he was right. Vulpe had seen a lot of troopers without helmets and it seemed custom to not wear it all the time and especially not during debriefs. He could get over some discomfort to not draw too much attention. He pulled off the helmet feeling the gaze of people on him but he ignored them as he took the fork and started eating. After a few minutes, the prickle on his skin became less as people lost interest.
The food was okay. But Vulpe hadn't much opinion on food, as long as it was nutritious he would eat it without fuss. Only when his whole food was gone, easily the portion of two troopers did he stop. You never knew when the next meal would be so it was better to eat everything that was provided. He looked up to amazed looks tilting his head in question.
"Sorry, it is just. You eat all of it! The ration bar tastes like shit but you didn't even grimace."
"Didn't taste too bad," Vulpe shrugged.
"Bullshit it is a crime for them to exist. Didn't you taste them… holy shit you didn't taste them. Is it a medical thing? Do we need to go back to Helix?"
Heck no, Vupe had enough of the medic for at least a month
"It is not medical. I just choose not to taste."
"That's amazing. But if you can and will eat anything why are you underweight?"
"Food shortage."
Dead silence fell over them again and even spread to the neighboring table that had listened in. If they didn't want to hear the bad things they should stop asking him questions, he wouldn’t lie anymore just to protect the people around him.
Luckily with the food gone, he could just leave. Entering his new room away from the masses was a relief and Wooley and Crys were okay roommates. It was clean, and they weren’t overly annoyed or loud at night, even if Cryes snuffled in his sleep.
They fell into a routine after the first few days of awkwardness, it helped that Crys liked people as much as Vulpe and rather stayed away from everyone. When getting food Vulpe would get a table in a defendable position and Wooley would go brace the line and get the food. The rest of the day was filled with training. Vulpe held back, orientating himself at other troopers, and was just average. Which was surprisingly harder than giving his best and mastering the exercises. He was just so used that not being the best was a failure and meant punishment. Plus he was a CC produced to be better than regular troopers, adjusting his strength and skills was hard.
But he managed, he was praised for his quick integration into his new squad, and his solid work but he didn’t stand out too much. It helped that his superiors, Waxer and Boil, were quite talented and stood out a lot with the stunts they pulled. They were also smart and good leaders Vulpe could follow their orders without questioning the probability of his survival. Not having to think, or having the responsible of every single life on his shoulder was refreshing and Vulpe started to relax and open up a bit, as he started talking more than the barely essential.
Vulpe started participating in Cry's mumbling about slicing since the man had kept quiet about Vulpe breaking into the room on his first day. He was still careful making sure he didn't let on just how much he knew but he didn’t pretend to be ignorant of the subject. Wooley was allowed to lay his hand on Vulpe’s lower back if he was announcing it beforehand and he took shameless advantage of it his hand resting there whenever he could. It was… acceptable.
But the rest of the troopers including Waxer and Boil still made him wary and he made sure to let nothing slip, being nothing but a normal trooper. They noticed but gave him space since the rumor of him losing his whole batch had swept through the whole Star Destroyer already.
The first official battle was a hot mess, despite the competence of Kenobi and Cody. Their intel was shit, the Separatists knew their location and they barely managed to push the enemy back. Vulpe didn’t think much of it as he continued to reload and fire at the droids over and over again while brothers around him screamed or fell quiet. He kept an eye on Wooley and Crys not because he was attached but because they were useful and because having to settle in with someone new would be annoying. Some blaster bolts were getting close but nothing required action. Only later back on the ship did he notice just how much the battle had affected everyone. Once he left the shower in fresh blacks and ready to clean up his armor he saw Wooley crying on his bed Crys sitting beside him. It was awkward but Vulpe sat down on Wooleys other side. The man instantly grabbed his hand holding it, his fingers finding the pulse point. Vulpe let him and even stayed once Wooley fell asleep, tipping one-handedly, on his datapad checking on statistics and reports of the battle. Most of the shinies didn’t make it. Tragic but not surprising, they were always the first to die.
He checked up on Commander Fox. MIA. Not surprising. He closed the window not wanting to dwell on the past.
The melancholy and sadness continued throughout the next day, as there were only low whispers during breakfast and crying. The surviving shinies were completely absent. Vulpe could understand them, at one point he was just like that, feeling every loose, mourning every trooper. But then he had lost Thorne and it had broken him. He didn’t get attached anymore it was useless. You just had to get along and do your job and nothing more.
“Vulpe,” he stopped on his way to the training room and turned towards Wooley who was holding onto his hand. It made his skin itch to have his mobility limited like this and he pulled away but nodded at the other to continue.
"Are you thinking about your batch?"
What a strange question.
"Sometimes," it was hard not to when one of them was your commanding officer and was brought up in conversation regularly. Although Wooley must talk about his fictive, death batch.
"Are you going to join them?"
"Yes."
Pure distress and despite his warning, Wooley leaned forward his hand grabbing Vulpes shoulder making him go stiff and it took all his self-control to not attack.
"You can't!"
The command and the closeness made him growl and his own hands wound around the other wrist ready to break bones to gain freedom. The people around them stopping and watching only made things worse.
"Don't tell me what to do."
"Please you can't die."
He was now fully annoyed with the other man and Wooley was lucky some random troopers stepped up and pulled Wooley off but looked at Vulpe with pity.
"I'm just a mortal being. One day I will day, maybe from a blaster shot maybe from my cells degenerating. Just like every other person on this ship," Silence.
"So you don't plan to kill yourself," a trooper, young with a high-pitched voice asked. What the hell were they one about? If they wanted him to die they would have to pull the trigger themself and he would do his damn best to take as many of them to hell with himself.
"What are you talking about?"
"Tipsy and Mes lost their batch in the last attack. They are no longer with us."
So that was what this was all about. All the touching for some emotional bullshit.
"I'm not that weak that I couldn't survive on my own," his blunt words shocked the others and he could feel some angry glances at him. Why should he care for others' opinions? They were just coworkers. "Why do you even care what I do?"
"Because we are friends and I don't want to lose any more of these." Vulpe had been too nice he, shouldn't have included the other and shut any attempts down from the beginning. Now everything was a mess.
"No, we are not. At most we are coworkers."
"But we have a connection!"
"I was just being nice to improve the working environments. Don't waste energy caring about me because I for sure don't care about you."
Wooley was crying desperately now. The angry glances had intensified and he could see balled fists and bodies ready for attack. No point in staying. He could win but why waste energy on something so pointless? He spun on his heels and walked away ducking away into a supply room and entered the maintenance shafts running the ship to avoid camera detection. He didn't feel like being confronted or having Crys judge him so he didn't plan to sleep in his bunk. Setting his datapad back into Fox mode he checked for a nice place to lay low where no one would find him but that had a comfortable surface to lie on.
The room he choose should be unused but held some sofas which would be good enough for the night. Before dropping out of the vent he stopped picking up hitched breathing. Someone else had the same idea as him. No trouble there were other places for him to sleep.
"Who's there," fuck how had he been detected. He had been quiet. He peered down the grate getting a good look at the orange armor. Cody. The person he wanted to see least on this whole ship. He should just leave again but he was curious what the pristine Marshal Commander was doing here all alone and crying. It was too good blackmail material to pass up and he had already been discovered. He dropped out of the vent his helmet facing Cody. The man had wiped his face but the red-rimmed eyes were a death giveaway.
"Oh, your Vulpe? The new guy?"
"Yes."
"What are you doing here?"
"My presence is not wanted right now."
"You fought? You should try and make up before it is too late."
Vulpe snorted. Like he cared.
"No, seriously you will regret it if you don't."
"And you know how? Same reason that has you crying in here?"
Cody winced but nodded.
"Fox. My batchmate. He is MIA, which is nothing he would do if there wasn't a really good reason. I know it."
Liar! Don't talk as if you know anything
"You are close?"
"We were on Kamino. Not anymore. Which is much fault. I didn't make time and now he is gone and I can't even remember the last time I talked to him."
You don't say. Vulpe felt victorious at causing the other clear distress. Good feel it, experience some of the sadness Fox had when he had been abounded by everyone he loved and cared about. Suffer.
"Nothing you can do to change that now Commander. The death never come back. There are no such things as second chances," with these words, Vulpe walked to the door turning at the last moment to wish Cody a good night, and left. There was a storage closet not too far away from here and the droids wouldn't mind sharing.
Afterward, Wooley avoided him with tears in his eyes and Crys didn't talk to him anymore. Vulpe didn't care. Eating alone was much more efficient and he could still do his job. That was all that mattered.
Something Wooley didn't get as he was skittish around Vulpe, tried to avoid him or looked longingly from a distance. He even messed up training as he jumped out behind the cover Vulpe had pulled him. Things were so bad that for the next defense against the Separatists, their squad got split up. Crys was with Waxer and Boil on a special mission behind enemy lines to steal some vital intel. Wooley was with a small squad rescuing citizens from the enemy base and Vulpe himself was at the frontline shooting everything that moved.
The commands weren't as efficient as the once Waxer cave and there were avoidable casualties but that wasn't Vulpes job to worry about. He stayed alive and that was important. Returning to camp he looked around spotting Crys with an agitated Waxer and Boil. His gaze wandered as he swept away some of the blood but he couldn’t see Wooley at all. Neither was any of the squad Wooley had been with. Vulpe didn’t care, they would be back soon enough. There was no reason for him to stand next to the command tent, and use his modified com to listen to the conversation inside.
“We can’t risk any more squads to try to safe them.”
“I will not leave them behind.”
“I know but we don’t know if they are still alive. What if someone dies trying to save them? Could you live with that?”
Vulpes fingers flow over his datapad as he pulled up all the information of Wooley's squad, where they had been when coms were lost. He took in the enemies' movement. They were too far behind enemy lines, retrieving them would be too risky and not worth the effort. It was Wooley's fault for being unable to be professional and being reassigned to an incompetent squat. Once he was confirmed KIA Vulpe's squad would get someone new assigned.
He restocked his ammunition, you never knew when the Separatists would go for a surprise attack. Terminal detonators and extra knives were always useful and the hectic aftermath of a battle was just the best time to steal them without anyone noticing. Getting to a speeder and short-circuiting it was… okay there was no way to rationalise that.
"Hey!"
Hands on his shoulder stopped him and pulled him back. He saw orange in the corner of his eyes, arc markings. Boil. Before the other trooper could react he was on the ground with Vulpe kneeling on top and his blaster pressed between the armor plating. Normally an arc wasn’t easy to beat, impossible for a normal CT, but Vulpe wasn’t a CT. The command line was the masterpiece of the Kaminoan's work. They were more genetically advanced than other troopers and had more training and knowledge. They took longer until they were ready to be shipped out and were a lot more expensive. Which was why they were designed to survive even if their whole battalion was wiped out.
Boil seemed to realize that he wasn’t dealing with a normal CT as he stopped his struggling, holding completely still beside the occasional tremble faced with the blaster against his blacks.
“What the hell are you doing,” Waxer enraged by his friend on the ground charged. Vulpe’s secondary blaster was aiming at him before Vulpe truly registered the thread and after flicking it to stun fired. The shot rang out, and the bold went straight for Waxer's helmless face and the man dropped to the ground in a heap. Everyone was panicking. Either running to Waxer's side, signing in relive when they just found him unconscious, or aiming at Vulpe, but unable to fire with the man using Boil as a shield.
Backing up to the speeder he saw Crys waiting there, gritting his teeth and bracing himself for dropping one of the few people he could stand. But Crys just nodded to the back of the speeder as he grabbed the controls.
“I’m coming with you to safe Wooley,” there was no room for argument. Despite Vulpe wanting to protest he knew that his chance of success would greatly improve with Crys skills. So he just grunted and dragged his Boil into the back with him.
“Wait you are going to save Wooley? You?!” The disbelieving tone shouldn’t hurt, it was hard to believe what nonsense he was doing. He himself couldn’t explain why he was going through all the trouble for a single trooper. Only it was not just a trooper. It was a person, a friend. Boil leaned over him suddenly completely unconcerned by the blaster still pressed against his side.
“Hold fire. We are on our way to rescue the missing troops,” people still looked uncertain but lowered their blasters. Even Kenobi lowered his hands from whatever force shenanigans he had planned. Vulpe let go of Boil since the man didn’t seem intent on stopping him anymore and climbed into the front wrestling control from Crys and guiding the speeder along his intended route.
“So what's the plan? Assuming you have a plan and didn’t just stir things up storming in headless.” Vulpe snorted at that. No, he was not Wolffe he thought before doing something. With one hand he activated his datapad and shoved it behind himself at Boil all the information he had collected still open. After a few minutes of reading, Boil let out an impressed whistle.
“Holy shit that is a lot. I guess I don’t wanna know how you got all that, or I would have to throw you into prison?”
“You could try.”
“You surprised me this time but next time I-”
“Would get your ass handed to you just as badly,” there was no bragging in his voice it was just fact. Boil was good, yes, but he didn’t hold a candle to Vulpe and his skills. “If I'm not court marshaled and decommissioned for this I’m more than willing to throw you around after the rescue mission.”
“Court marshaled? Decommissioned?!” Crys cried out. Poor guy must not have thought about the consequences of siding with Vulpe. “Vulpe, do you seriously think you will be killed for saving your friend?” Well, that and stunning a superior officer.
“Not if I managed to slip away first.” He hadn’t planned to fake his death or disappear so soon again but you had to do what you had to do. Enough battalions were looking for new troops all the time or he could just completely turn his back to the GAR and become a bounty hunter. He had some contacts that could get him some Mandalorian armor, he could pass as someone with a strict creed unable to show his face.
Arms wrapped around him from behind and Vulpe tensed, his vibroblade already sliding out of its hiding place on his arm ready to stab but there was no restriction, he was just being held. Boil sniffed a bit but didn’t let go.
“Vod’ika you will not be decommissioned, I would never let them do that to you. Cody would never let that happen. There is no decommissioning.”
Bullshit. The guard had lost so many troopers to decommissioning or reconditioning. Good men and no commander had been able to do anything against it. But perhaps Cody wasn’t as weak as Vulpe thought and he had enough blackmail material on General Kenobi to stop him from going through with decommissioning. Fox had tried but the number of senators involved had been too big to get hold of all of them so he had no choice but to sign the paperwork and walk the troopers to their last journey.
Cry's hand landed on his leg just resting there in reassurance and all of this was getting a bit too much for Vulpe. People shouldn’t act like they cared or it would raise his expectations. If he believed them he would just be more distressing when they ultimately dropped him once he had outlived his usefulness.
He shock them off and hid in the comfort of a strategy meeting his voice automatically falling into his command voice that didn’t allow any contradictions and protest. He should stop to protect his identity but he hadn’t acted like a CT since he found out Wooley was missing so what was another slip?
“The location on the map will be the extraction point. Satellite images indicate the area will give us good cover. From there we will use the nightfall as cover to climb up toward the enemy facility. Inside we will make our way to level B4 unseen where the squad has gone missing and investigate their whereabouts.”
Crys looked anxious nervously tapping his legs, “they have sensors. This is why the squad was dropped off by a transport ship. If we climb we will be shot down.”
Vulpe hummed glad to have at least someone on his team that could rub two brain cells together.
“Usually yes but their sensors will be down.”
“What do you mean their sensors will be down, conveniently when we are about to infiltrate,” Boil sounded suspicious.
“Someone on the inside will shut it down.”
“You have an inside man? Why didn’t you say so before the squad went in.”
“It is a droid, no one asked, it is not my job.”
Boil looked shocked, almost angry.
“You would let brothers die just because it is not your job?”
Once more Vulpe was the bad guy, the villain in others' narrative. No matter what he did or didn’t do it was always the wrong thing and he would be blamed, he had been stupid to expect anything else just because he changed his name.
“They die regardless if I’m involved or not. I rather lie low and protect my own life, since everyone else would love nothing more than to see me die.”
Vulpe didn’t listen to their protest and stopped the speeder a lot harsher than he had to, jumped out, and after sending a quick message to the maintenance droid. It did its part well, annoyed by the Separatist being rude and kicking it around. Vulpe didn’t even know how he had gotten involved in the cleaning- and maintenance droid revolution. He had just been decent to the droids on Coruscant since they were the only ones not being douches to him and he was able to hide in their cleaning tunnels without being reported if he asked nicely. He hadn’t known he was helping them plot murder when they asked him for input on their ideas ( he had known fully well but the senator had been a dick ordering a whole squad of shinies to be decommissioned). And helping them to sneak on GAR transporters to come and go freely from Coruscant had just been a thank you for the information they shared. By now he had a whole network of droids all around the galaxy willing to do him favors like looping the security or providing plans of the facility, and patrol schedules.
Plans he could use to navigate the facility without being seen. Only the droid had been too small to check what happened to the intruders and Vulpe would never want to put the poor thing in danger. Despite that Boil nearly shot the poor thing when the mouse droid charged around the corner toward them. Vulpe was just in time to push Boil letting his shot go wide, but still, startling the droid which let out a distressed sound, and hid behind the corner again.
“What are you doing,” Vulpe hissed uncaring that he was holding Boil's arm in a death grip and the plastroid cracked under the force.
“It charged us. It may not be able to harm but it could give or location away.”
“Try to kill my informant again and the hole in your skull will give our location away.”
“Your informant? What do you mean your informant.”
Vulpe ignored him and walked to the corner kneeling and reaching out to the droid who after some hesitation sped toward him and bumped into his legs. Vulpe scooped it up and put it in a bag he had taken from the speeder, unwilling to leave the thing behind. It could work on the Venetor or he could get it to another place it wished to be.
Boil grumbled but followed after Vulpe despite everything. It was the presence of a CC that demanded respect and inspired trust. With Vulpe letting some of his true colors slip through the others couldn't help but fall in line.
There were close calls but Vulpe always managed to change direction or hide inside a room before they were noticed. Avoiding any fights let them reach the last location of Wooley's squad easily. Two troopers laid death on the floor. Vulpe gritted his teeth until he was close enough to see they had no marking he knew. Maybe it was cold to not care for the two nameless troopers but his only objective was Wooley. Which was not here.
Vulpe pressed himself against the wall where two corridors meet listening to the clanking steps getting closer and closer. He was swift, moving in their path, his knife slicing the powerline between body and head and the first droid fell to the ground. Before the rest could react and call for help Vulpe used his double blasters to take them out with precise shots until only one remained. He took a book out of Cody’s book and just punched it, sending it to the ground where he pinned it and stunned it by overcharging it with a teaser. He then cut open a panel at the back to get access to its inner working and connected it to his datapad. Numbers flew over the screen as his program started breaking down the flimsy security measures put in place by the Separatists and copied all the data before destroying the programming turning the droid into useless metal.
Hacking droids was way too easy and Vulpe didn’t know why people insisted on running undercover ops instead of trying to slice the droids. It was tricky yes, and if you didn’t do it right the thing exploded but once you had the hang of it you could just get the information. The Separatists were at least smart enough to just include things about the base of operation and missions there and not their whole troop movement. Otherwise the GAR not making much progress in the war would have been even more embarrassing. But even with that information, you could do so much damage.
Crys was at his side as Vulpe swiped through the data to find the location of the prisoners looking longingly at the datapad. Jokes on him it was the same as his own. The only difference was that Vulpe had modded his since the beginning of the war and had a lot of handy programs running on it.
“Okay, what is going on? You have people on the inside, can kick droids' ass like it is nobody's business, and on top of that you are a slicer that makes Crys envious! Who the hell are you and what are you doing pretending to be a CT in this battalion,” Bouil looked tense, his hand hovering over his blaster. Seems like Vulpe's cover was now fully blown. Not that it mattered despite the other's reassurance he hadn’t planned to stay in the 212th anyway.
“I’m the one who can save Wooley and the rest. So either you can shut up till we're done or I can walk away now and leave you all to die in here.” Vulpe knew an ultimatum like this would only make Boil less likely to trust him but it was already over anyway. To his relief, Boil didn’t start a fight but followed Vulpe when he moved toward the prison cells.
Since there were already a bunch of dismantled droids laying around and it was only a question of time before they would be found Vulpe didn’t bother to hide anymore, instead charging at all droids they came across. To his surprise, despite his distrust Boil had his back, picking off droids that tried to get Vulpe from behind. Not that they would have succeeded as Vulpe already had a vibroblade ready to beat them but still it felt… okay to have someone willing to watch his back. Crys also tried to help but paired with an arc and a CC he was busy just trying to keep up with them instead of being much help, especially since Vulpe’s datapad made him a lot faster when it came to slicing.
Vulpe gestured for his companion to stop, and they followed his orders as Vulpe slowly creepy to the door. It didn’t have a window but that didn’t stop Vulpe as he pried open a wall panel quite violently and dove into the mess of wires behind it. The separatist had never heard of proper wire management but that was okay, Coruscant was even worse with everything just being constantly added to.
It only took him 4 tries till he found the right wire and plugged it into his pad, the camera feed now displayed on his screen. Two command droids were standing in front of a ray shield guarding the hallway and keeping an eye on the door. That made things more complicated. Vulpe quickly switched back to the schematics of the building, searching for another way to enter that wouldn’t be as dangerous, but whoever designed this place hadn’t been a total idiot and there was no convenient air duct to drop out off.
A heavy sight beside him as Boil, who had stood watch turned towards the door and hit the control panel before Vulpe could do anything to stop him. He saw the door open in horror, glad Boil had at least been smart enough to take cover behind the wall. Okay, Vulpe could fix this, it would be complicated but he could do it. Given the fire rate of a regular command droid, combined with the distance, he could-
POP!
There was silence, no more droid firing. He glanced around the corner seeing the droids laying on the ground motionless. A droid popper then. Not a bad idea in the current situation. Stepping toward the ray shield he saw the four captured clones huddled together looking wary at the shield. Wooley was with them, blood on his forehead but alive. Vulpe let out a relieved sight as he didn’t even bother to slice the ray shield and just shot the control panel seeing the barrier flicker out.
“Vulpe,” Wooley sounded so hopeful as he looked at Vulpe with big eyes. It reminded him of Thorn. He had to swallow hard not knowing if he should go over and help or not, but Wooley decided by stumbling towards him and throwing his arms around him. Vulpe didn’t hug back but he also didn’t pull away feeling the other's body against himself settling the anxious part in him.
Crys and Boil were helping the rest up, all of them looked beaten to hell and back but one of them had a nasty blaster wound on his side and needed support to even get up. Boil had done his best to take care of the wound but it was clear the man needed a medic fast if he wanted to survive. The rest of them also needed to get out of there before more droids arrived. Despite it making his insides twist he pushed Wooley off him and secured the door making sure the hallway was clear, before calling for the rest to follow. They were slow with one party heavily injured and the rest having trouble keeping on their feet. Boil and Crys were busy supporting everyone so Vulpe picked off every enemy with ice-cold precision not wasting a single shot as he dropped droids left and right. At some point the attacks stopped completely, someone had probably realized that a handful of prisoners was not worth losing any more droids over.
The climb down was another difficulty as Vulpe didn’t trust any of the rescues to make it on their own. He was glad he had carried up a metal cord on his way up. It helped a lot but Boil and he made the climb multiple times, carrying someone else on their back until everyone was down and loaded in the speeder. It was a tight fit and Vulpe had claimed the driver's seat to at least have some space without a brother being pressed against him. Wooley looked downright disappointed as he was shoved in the back with Crys but Vulpe couldn’t care less that it hurt the man's feeling.
The drive was silent, besides the occasional whimper of pain, as people were either too exhausted or too high-strung from their escape.
Everyone seemed relieved when finally the camp came into view. Everyone besides Vulpe, who was making plans for his escape. If he wasn’t accused of attacking Waxer and running an unauthorized mission then Boil would report his skills and he would get in trouble for being untrustworthy. No, escaping was the best option.
Waiting for them was a team of medics watching anxiously, a bunch of troopers, most likely someone's batchmates, and Commander Cody himself. The moment the speeder stopped the medic descended on them wanting to help the injured as fast as possible. Vulpe used the chaos to get away losing Boil in the crowd. He had almost made it when Cody stepped in his way arms crossed and looking stern. Kriff.
“CT-666,” yes that was Cody’s angry voice. Vulpe didn’t want to get into an altercation with Cody, especially since the man had a lot of support and it could quickly turn into a whole battalion against Vulpe. Time to use his silver tongue and talk his way out.
“Commander Cody,” he nodded in greeting like they were just meeting in the hallway and Cody had not caught him trying to sneak away.
“You went on an unauthorized rescue mission, stole a speeder, attacked Leutnant Waxer, and took two troopers and put them in danger as well.”
Silence. It was not like Vulpe could say something against it. All the accusations were true even if Crys had invited himself it had been Vulpes idea. He had taken calculated risks and minimized the danger for him and the others but Cody wouldn’t believe that. So he stayed quiet.
“Having nothing to say for yourself, trooper?”
Vulpe shrugged: “Not really. So what are you gonna do, Commander? Decommission me? Sent me to recon to turn my into a proper topper?”
The challenge in his tone was unmistakeable but he didn’t care. Cody could add disrespect against a superior officer to his list of offenses. Cody froze eyes wide and there was horror on his face. The next moment he jumped forward, striking all alarm bells in Vulpes head as he ducked back trying to get out of reach. But he had made a fatal mistake and underestimated Boil as his back connected with the other's chest and he was trapped. Panic tried to overwhelm him but he pulled it close and turned it into focus as he let the adrenalin course through his veins to sharpen his senses. He activated his vibroblade but it bounced off Boil's gauntlet as the man tried to pin him. With a fast flick of his wrist and he switched the blade to his left hand and had a clear shot at Cody’s unprotected neck. Just a quick stab and he would be safe, just a faint and the man would stop his attack to protect himself. It was easy, Vulpe was a fighter, desperate for survival, this was nothing.
His fingers turned numb and the blade clattered to the ground not even halfway to Cody’s neck. He couldn’t do it. Couldn’t attack his batchmate even if he didn’t plan to hurt. Fuck. Why couldn’t he?! He hated Cody for thinking he was better than Vulpe, for acting like the golden child, for ignoring Vulpes calls, for making fun of him and his post for abandoning him. So many nights when Vulpe had laid awake in pain, suffering, or mourning fallen troopers he had imagined hurting Cody, giving the man a taste of what Vulpe went through. But right here was not Cody laughing in his face, or the stern Commander ready to punish him, no instead he only saw his ori’vod that had always taken care of Vulpe when he was a cadet and was afraid.
Cody collided with his chest, his arms wrapped around Vulpe and he held him close, swaying slightly. It reminded him so much back of his days on Kamino Vulpe could feel his eyes getting wet as his body started to shake and he leaned forward burying his face in Cody’s shoulder to hide his silent tears.
He was so caught up in the maelstrom of his emotion that it took precious seconds until he managed to turn back to the conversation happening over his head.
“-told you he something wasn’t right. Why would he think he was being decommissioned?”
“I don’t know,” Cody sounded small his voice strained and sad. “He sounded like he had experienced it. But Master Tiin would never have allowed any of his men to face such a fate.”
He had been too careless let himself be weak, and gave them too many puzzle pieces to find the truth. He had messed up. Should they find out who he was everything would be over.
In a desperate struggle, he tried to free himself from their hold. But in response, the arms just wrapped more firmly around him.
"Shh vod. It is alright. No one is getting decommissioned, I swear. I was just really worried about you. The worst you have to expect is being on fresher duty.” It had to be a lie but why did Cody sound so sure? Had the guard truly been the only one facing mass decommissioning for the smallest of offenses? Vulpe wished he could go back in time and shoot everyone, including the chancellor that had ever ordered a decommissioning. He had lost so many good people, that had been loyal and on his side until all that was left were opportunists that believed in the senate and were ready to stab each other in the back to rise to a higher position. Vulpe had to fight people aiming for his post constantly and at some point Vod didn’t mean someone to care for and to protect, someone that would give comfort when he was overwhelmed, instead they had all become a danger he had to be wary of. He had thought things were similar in other battalions, but seeing the worry and fear, the mourning for those who hadn’t made it back it must not be. It was just the guard that was rotten from the inside.
Vulpe didn’t care anymore, the guard he had known was long gone. Let them run each other to the ground until nothing was left besides a sea of blood.
"Stop babying me," Vulpe made another attempt to free himself and hide somewhere dark to wrangle with his thoughts. Boil was taken off guard but Cody had grown up with him and old instinct kicked in as he easily stopped Vulpe from wiggling out of his grip.
"Sorry, you are not going anywhere. Not before the medic checked you over."
"Why," Vulpe's voice was sharp and filled with suspicion. Would they sedate him? Put a microchip in him to track his movement. No, Vulpe would not go there.
Cody frowned at him, "Because you just returned from an unauthorized mission, and I don't trust you to report to medical yourself if your hurt. I know a medbay hopper when I see one." Okay rude, it was not like Vuklpe had avoided the medbay because he wanted to, it had rather been a necessity. They lacked funds and resources and as long as he was just in pain and not actively dying it was better to leave the small amount of bacta for people who needed it. After they got resources he could not allow himself to go and show any weakness, unless he wanted someone to use it to take him out. There was no honor and aiming for weak points and injuries was a valid option. So rather than get another stab wound Vulpe had bit his tongue and endured the pain.
Cody, trained by years of dealing with unwilling little brothers didn’t even try to discuss the point and just lifted Vulpe, with all of his armor up, tsking at how easy it was murmuring something about letting the medics check his weight. Vulpe didn't think, telling him that he had already started putting on weight and was in an even worse state at arrival, wouldn’t be a good idea. Although the progress had slowed since Wooley and he had fought, he didn’t grab too much food as Wooley had.
He should feel embarrassed, being carried like a little cadet through the whole camp for everyone to see, whispers starting up in their wake. And if anyone else had attempted to lift him they would have at least a few broken bones. But Cody was different. Despite the time that had passed and that Vulpe no longer needed coddling all he could think of was how safe and relaxed he felt. Like back in the day when he had been a cadet afraid of the lightning storms and his big brother had held him to stop his crying. So instead of freeing himself, he pressed his nose in the other'S unprotected neck and soaked in the smell of home going completely limb. Cody let out a surprised breath at that, looking down at the trooper, that reminded him so much of his baby brother, in wonder.
Once in the medical tent getting Vulpe to let go was quite a challenge. He never sought closeness or comfort, not anymore but when it was given he was damn snuggly. But once Cody had pried him loose and Vulpe sat on a bed was when the real fight began as Vulpe refused to let the unknown medic anywhere near him, growling and hissing at him.
“What is going on,” Helix, looking disheveled and out of breath stormed out behind a curtain, his disapproving gaze making everyone cower.
The medic puffed up: “This one refuses treatment.”
Helix's eyes narrowed on Vulpe but Vulpe didn’t back down. He had faced down senators threatening him with decommission and the chancellor, a medic was way less scary.
“I don’t know him. I don’t know what he is going to do. There is no way I will let him anywhere close to me,” Helix's eyes flickered to the other medic who opened his mouth to protest but shut it instantly on Helix's disapproving gaze.
“Fine. Crick, get in there and take over keeping them in bed and resting I will take care of things here. So what have you done now kid, to land in here.”
“Nothing, I’m fine,” his statement was followed by disbelieve.
“He was involved in the rescue mission. I want him checked out to make sure he wasn't injured,” Cody answered for him and Helix nodded stepping close and tugging at Vulpes armor who let out a weary sight but started pulling off the armor pieces and the top of his blacks, holding out his arms. “See still in one piece.”
Helix still got out his med scanner and started checking him over. Cody on the other hand was frozen staring at Vulpes body in shock. His hand trembled as he reached out toward the scar on Vulpe’s neck. Helix gasped and tried to interfere, knowing no one was allowed to touch Vulpe’s neck but he was too late, Cody’s fingers made contact. Everyone held their breath ready to step in when Vulpe lashed out. But nothing happened. Vulpe stayed perfectly still looking at Cody with suspicion but letting him touch his most vulnerable part until he had enough and pushed the hand away.
“What happened there,” Cody’s voice was small and scared but Vulpe just shrugged unwilling to tell anyone as he pulled his knees to his chest and made himself small. Helix encouraged by Vulpes calmness reached out toward Vulpe’s face. The teeth snapped shut barely missing his fingers as Helix stumbled back falling on his ass.
“Okay, no one touching there besides Cody,” who looked at Vulpe with wide and shocked eyes. “Well besides him still being way too thin for my liking he seems to not be worse for wear from his rescue mission.” Vulpe had told them that but no one had believed him. He pulled his clothes and armor back on and got up as the curtain was ripped open and he looked at Wooley standing there, bandages over his body and a medic frantically trying to pull him back to the bed.
“Vulpe,” and for the second time this day Vulpe found himself reaching out to steady Wooley, who had no regard for himself and stumbled towards him. Arms went around his waist as Wooley pressed his face against Vulpes chest and cried.
“You got us out. You came for us.”
Vulpe stayed silent, what else should he say to this? “You are a liar. You said you didn't care but you still came for me.”
“I didn’t come for you, you were just there by chance.”
“You are a liar,” Wooley laughed through the tears unwilling to let go and Vulpe to his dismay had to sit down on a bed again so Wooley would get on said bet and rest. He stared daggers at everyone looking at him, but it was hard to be intimidating with a sleeping brother in his arms. A medic even dared to give him food and stand next to the bed until Vulpe had eaten all of it. What was it with all these mother hens in this battalion? Vulpe was older than any of them besides Cody.