The hum of Coruscant's lower levels vibrated through the worn soles of Fox's boots. He stood leaning against a wall, the harsh neon lights around casting his face in an unforgiving half-shadow. Even off-duty, his posture remained straight, a testament to the years spent drilling regulations.

He barely stifled a sigh of relief when a figure finally rounded the corner, nearly invisible against the backdrop of grimy walls. When they stopped beside him, his eyes flickered to theirs. "You're late," He stated, his voice clipped as he shifted his hold on the bag of food he held. He'd picked it up on his way from one of the better diners.

Fox had first encountered them weeks prior, a scrawny shadow slipping his vibro-knife from its holster during a tense standoff with a group of thugs. The audacity, the sheer nerve of it, would have earned a swift arrest for anyone else.

But the kid had vanished before Fox could react, melting back into the labyrinthine alleys. He saw the kid again not long after, and he should've, at the very least, demanded his stolen blade back. He hadn't though, despite himself. There was just something about them, a spark of defiance mixed with a flicker of vulnerability that tugged at a buried instinct in Fox. An instinct that had no place in a Coruscant Guard Commander for a street kid, but surfaced nonetheless.

After that, he'd come down during the same time every week. His excuse was they were good at intel on the lower levels- knew things better than he did. If he couldn't help but ruffle their hair every now and then, that wasn't important. And if he got worried when the kid was late to their usual meeting spot, it certainly didn't mean anything. Not at all.

Even if he was starting to see the kid like a weird younger sibling, maybe he just needed a break from all the paperwork he had been doing lately. "Trouble?" Fox prompted, his tone sounding more like a reprimand than he meant.