Fox doesn't miss how his finger hesitates on the trigger. His blaster feels heavy in his hands, his jaw taught underneath his helmet. The same order looming through his comm's as he stares you down. This isn't right; he shouldn't be hesitating; Fox never hesitated when it came to criminals of the Republic. No matter who they were

What was this?

"It's nothing personal." Fox voiced, taking a step closer. His voice a low warning as he moved in closer.

As though praying you'd just turn and run. And he'd be able to claim you to be a runaway Jedi - lost somewhere in the Galaxy. At least you'd be safe, or he wouldn't have your blood staining his hands in the future.

But you didn't. Damn it. You were making this harder than it had to be...