Warriors in Red Armor

Disclaimer:I do not own the rights to Star Wars: The Clone Wars or any related titles, characters, plots, settings, etc. These rights are the sole property of George Lucas, Lucasfilm, Dave Filoni, the Walt Disney Company, and their various publishers and distributors. I own only the original elements of this story, the writing and publishing of which earn me no money.

Chapter Seven

Nora II

"Right this way, Miss," the trooper told her helpfully. Nora followed, scratching her nose to hide a grin. The trooper must be a recent appointment to the Coruscant Guard. None of the veteran troopers bothered being so nice to someone who was so often labeled a public menace.

She followed the trooper, admiring the crisp, freshly painted lines of red decorating his immaculate white armor on the way. Finally, they reached a back room buried deep in the section filled with people doing administrative work. Some of the workers weren't even troopers, they were so far back in the precinct building.

"In here," the trooper told Nora, gesturing to the door he had stopped beside.

"Thank you, Trooper..?" Nora allowed the sentence to trail into a question.

"Chase, miss," the trooper told her.

"Lovely to meet you, Chase," Nora said with a wink.

Chase's professional - if young-looking - smile widened into a flirtatious grin. A moment later, it had dropped off his face altogether as Chase's gaze drifted over Nora's shoulder. He snapped into a salute. "Commander Stone, sir."

"At ease, trooper," Commander Stone told him, walking up behind Nora. He didn't look impressed with either of them. "Don't harass my troopers, Czajak. And Chase, watch this one. She's a troublemaker from way back. Head Commander Fox himself is overseeing her community service."

"Th- The Head Commander, sir?" Chase stammered.

"Yes, son," Stone said, patting the young trooper on the shoulder plate. "She could eat you alive. You'd best be getting back to work."

Chase scurried off as Nora watched with an amused smile. When he had gone, she turned to face the exasperated-looking Stone. "'Son'?" she asked. "Since when do you call people 'son'? You aren't much older than him."

"I feel thirty years older than that kid," Stone returned with a slight shake of his head. "Anyway, you should get inside. Beam has been waiting for a while."

"Beam? I thought Fox was supposed to be here."

Stone dragged a hand down his face. "Give me a break, Czajak. He'll be here in a little bit. Beam's got more community service to oversee than he knows what to do with. He has you doubled up with another troublemaker."

"Fine," Nora agreed, walking into the room without further comment. Mentally, she was hoping to see one of the Clone Rights volunteers that she was closest with. Instead of Meh'reer or Gadi, the only other occupant of the windowless room was an unfamiliar young woman. Her shaved head starkly exposed the cybernetics implanted in her skin, but she seemed generally unperturbed by her situation.

Nora liked her immediately.

"Finally, we can get started," the trooper at the front - presumably Beam - snapped.

"I'm two minutes early, darling," Nora informed him. "Maybe I should go get a drink before we start. I'm feeling a bit thirsty and I have the time."

The other woman smirked a bit at that and Nora went to sit next to her, holding out a hand to shake. "I'm Nora Czajak, leader of the Clone Rights group."

The woman eyed Nora's hand before taking it in her own with care. Nora could see why. The visible parts of her forearm and hand had been largely replaced with cybernetics, including several fingers. The contrast between her warm skin and the cold metal of the alterations was jarring, but the woman was careful to keep her grip gentle. "Ransom."

"What did they get you for?"

One corner of Ransom's mouth quirked upward. "Illegal cybernetic alterations."

"Weapons?" Nora asked, keeping her tone polite rather than overly curious.

"Could be," Ransom replied vaguely. "Most things could if you're creative enough."

"If you two have finished getting to know each other?" Beam interrupted, sounding exasperated. Nora and Ransom both turned their attention toward him and he cleared his throat. "We've put some effort and consideration into using your skills in a way that best benefits the Grand Army of the Republic and the Coruscant Guard, as well as the city itself."

Thus began the fifteen most boring minutes of Nora's life… and she had been through law school. Beam, clearly fond of his own voice, explained how their community service would work no fewer than four times. When he had finally run out of things to talk about, he pressed the broadcasting button on his comlink. "We're ready now, sir."

Mere seconds later, Head Commander Fox appeared in the doorway. "Dismissed, trooper."

Beam saluted and motioned for Ransom to follow him out of the depressing, windowless room. When they had left, Fox stared at Nora through the viewport of his helmet. "Let's get this over with."

Fox III

After he had voiced the scarcely-veiled command, Fox watched Czajak rise to her feet. The movement was graceful and energetic, but he shook his head. "Sit back down. We're staying here."

"We- what?" she asked, sitting back down with a thunk. It was probably the first time Fox had ever seen her surprised, and it was gratifying.

"We're staying here," he repeated, long-suffering tone belied by the grin on his face. Of course, with his bucket on, she couldn't exactly see his facial expression. Pity.

He stepped to a table in the back of the small room, picked up a heavy stack of flimsi, and set it down in front of Czajak. She glanced down at the pages, then back up at his face. Fox steeled himself. With effort, he sounded nothing but irritated as he instructed, "Fold these into brochures."

"What is this?" she asked disgustedly, picking up a single sheet of the flimsi.

"That one contains information about our yearly food drive to provide for citizens in low-income areas," Fox told her. "This one over here lists the comlink frequencies for our non-emergency contact line. This one has information about domestic violence and resources for civilians to get help-"

"I know what they are, Fox," Czajak snapped. "But why am I the one folding them? Any droid with arms could do that."

"Are you saying that civilians don't deserve to receive information about vital services unless the Coruscant Guard has an unused droid available to fold these sheets into brochures?"

"You're supposed to be using me for my skills," she complained.

The unfamiliar frustration that filled Fox during every interaction with the stubborn woman soared once more. "Strange as it may seem, the Coruscant Guard doesn't consider inciting a riot to be a valuable skill."

"I'm one of the top attorneys in the Inner Rim," Czajak said, voice exasperated. "And Clone Rights does not riot."

"Might as well," Fox returned, trying to calm the simmering rage sparkling through his body. "You get people all worked up for ridiculous causes."

Czajak gaped at him, her pretty eyes wide with shock. Fox forced his focus back to the argument with a little more effort than he was proud of. "We are trying to get rights for you and your brothers and you think it's a ridiculous cause?"

"I think it's something that's never going to happen," he countered.

"That doesn't answer the question!" she argued, the stacks of flimsi between them pushed from both of their minds now.

Fox sighed. He wanted nothing more than to pinch the bridge of his nose to calm the headache he felt coming on, but he still wore his bucket. The distracting thoughts made him a bit more honest than he otherwise would have been. "I think your cause is fine, but the way your group goes about it is insulting."

"How?" Czajak challenged. "Because we want to help you find a real life? To protect you from people who want to use you?"

"Because you assume that we need protection," Fox snapped. "It's an insult to imply that this isn't a real life when it's the only one these men have. And for most of us, this is the life we would choose even if we had other options."

She sat back in her chair, frowning fiercely. "You can't know that for sure. It's possible that you have no clue what you would want."

"Because I'm a clone?" Fox demanded, tearing off his bucket and slamming it down onto the table beside the completely forgotten flimsi. If she was going to abandon all attempts at professionalism, why shouldn't he do the same?

"Because you're thirteen! You're a child!"

Fox scoffed. "Republic-ruled systems determine age based on adulthood by species. Not everything is based on human lifespans. If you view clones as a different species - and most do - we are fully matured by the age of nine."

"That's ridiculous," Czajak argued. "I won't accept it."

"Why, because it hurts your narrative?" Fox challenged.

"No, because it isn't true!" She was standing now, too, and Fox wasn't sure when it had happened. He refused to step back and look like he was losing ground, so they stood far too close together. "Your genetics have been slightly altered, but you are human. Your body might be full-grown, but your mind is still so young. You and your brothers need citizens protecting you, fighting for you, making sure you-"

The ever-present anger boiled over at this woman lecturing Fox on his own biology. He cut off her patronizing explanation by planting his lips on hers in a firm kiss. To his shock, Czajak responded to him immediately, meeting his every move with one of her own.

By the time Fox remembered himself enough to finish making his point, an embarrassing length of time had passed. He pulled away, groaning a bit when Nora tried to follow him.

"We- we don't need your protection," he told her, and it probably would have sounded better if he hadn't been panting a bit.

"Yes you do," Nora assured him, kissing her way down and nibbling at the stretch of skin under his jawbone. "Shut up."

Fox made a noise that sounded far too close to a moan for his own comfort. He captured her mouth again, if only to distract her from doing other things.

They stood in the empty room, exploring each other as time blurred around them. Fox found, to his surprise, that he whimpered when she nibbled on his lower lip. In retaliation, Fox wove his hand into her hair, giving the locks a gentle tug. Nora made a noise that, had they been anywhere else, would have been cause to escalate things even further.

They finally broke apart when a trooper clattered his way down the hall outside, and they both remembered where they were.

"I move for a change of venue," Nora suggested with a wicked grin. "To take place as soon as I fold these brochures."

"I'll help," Fox offered immediately.

They probably set the record for poorly-folded flimsi, but the stacks were gone in under an hour.

Hound IV

"You're headed out of here early," Stone commented as Hound gathered his things. "Going to sit in the kennels for an hour before you finally leave?"

"Ha ha," Hound replied. Admittedly, he did spend an hour or more in the kennels every evening, but that was beside the point. "I have some stuff to check up on."

Stone squinted at him, but Hound didn't elaborate. The other commander watched in silence as Hound grabbed the last of his belongings.

"Have a good night, Stone!" Hound finally called in parting.

"Don't do anything illegal, yeah?" Stone cautioned, clearly having decided that Hound was doing something that the GAR would not approve of.

Hound was a bit insulted by that. Granted, Stone was right, but still.

He changed into his civvies before he left the precinct to avoid attracting unwanted attention. Coruscant was not nearly as pro-clone as some liked to believe. That was especially true as Hound made his way deep into the underbelly of the city. Rather than use a tracer or map, he relied on a honed sense of direction to reach his target.

As soon as poor Commander Fox had closed himself in the back room with the Czajak woman, Hound had gone to work. He had needed to use his sergeant status to find out where Ransom would go, but he managed. Hound had learned that Ransom's community service would take place at the Sheev Palpatine Academy. She was to assist with the weekend meeting of a club that had no sponsor or other adult supervision.

After his election as Chancellor, Palpatine had taken an interest in philanthropy. His most public efforts were in education and youth activities, and the Academy was one of four schools that he had sponsored in the area around the Political District. The Chancellor had installed cutting-edge holoprojector equipment in each one so that he could make monthly calls to them. However, the Academy was a study in contradictions. Despite the expensive equipment and surroundings, most Academy students were painfully poor. More than one trooper had wondered if some of those holoprojector credits would be better spent providing other things. Food, housing, and social programs would all do much more for the community... not that anyone could ever say such things out loud.

"Can I help you?" an elderly Zabrak female asked, fixing Hound with a kind smile. Still, she stepped directly into his way as he headed for the Academy's doors. She had the air of a female who had no intention of letting a stranger get access to the ones she meant to protect.

"Good afternoon, ma'am," Hound said, nodding to show his respect. "I'm Sergeant Hound of the Coruscant Guard and I'm looking for Trooper Beam. His comlink was being spotty, so I brought him a replacement."

"Oh, a trooper!" the Zabrak cooed. "Trooper Beam is helping with our droid club at the moment. I can take you there?"

"I don't want to trouble you, ma'am," Hound assured. "If you'll point me in the right direction, I'll switch out the comlink and be on my way."

"No trouble, no trouble at all, my dear!" she told him. "Right this way."

Over the course of their walk, Hound learned that the female was named Rend. She acted as the school's main administration agent. She was on campus this weekend filling out grant applications to improve staffing and programs for the students.

"It's such a dreadful shame, wouldn't you agree?" Rend asked, turning her spike-dotted head to fix him with a grandmotherly look. "Many of our students have to worry about food and clothing. Still, the Chancellor expects them to perform at the same level as those who don't want for anything. How can our students here possibly focus as well as those who haven't a care in the world?"

"I agree completely," Hound replied, feeling a confusing ache at the back of his skull at her pointed gaze.

Fortunately, Rend didn't need much encouragement. She kept up her steady stream of chatter without any further response from Hound.

"And it's so difficult to find people who are willing to supervise the club meetings, especially on weekends! I would volunteer myself, but I have so many duties that I could only offer minutes at a time. And in that vein, do you think you could ask your trooper to be a bit more polite to that poor young woman?"

Hound blinked at Rend. She had delivered the entirety of her speech in a single conversational stream. He hadn't truly registered that she had asked a question until she peered up at him expectantly.

"Erm, which woman would that be?" Hound asked.

"The one with the shaved head," Rend told him, as if it should have been obvious.

Instantly, Hound felt his face settle into a foreboding expression. "What has Beam been saying?"

Rend eyed him with a small smile on her face. "Ah, and the sergeant finally acts like a man in charge. I had wondered when you would. Your trooper has been making nasty little comments about the woman. I'm not sure why - she clearly knows what she's talking about."

They stopped in front of a half-closed door and Rend held up a hand, urging him to wait.

"...And that's the best way to fuse multiple wires that aren't a standard size." Ransom's explanation was immediately met with enthusiastic responses and questions from the members of the club.

Beam's sarcastic voice cut through all of it. "Yeah, make sure to pay attention, kids. With a little hard work, you can install and illegally alter a cybernetic limb, too. Then we'll be right back where we started."

"That's what I was talking about," Rend re-emphasized to Hound.

Hound gave a firm nod and turned the corner to stand in the room's doorway. The classroom was small and a bit shabby, but it was painted a cheerful color and filled with half-finished robotic projects. Initially, Hound worried about the safety of letting children spend time around so many sharp gears and components, but changed his mind only seconds later. Most of the club members were in their teens and seemed to handle themselves well.

The droid club was an eclectic group. Many of the members were non-human, but that was to be expected. Unfortunately, non-human species were always overrepresented in the lower levels. But these kids seemed happy and smart despite the cramped room. Even as Hound watched, a Gamorrean female and a male Besalisk proposed a solution to a problem Ransom had mentioned. Hound didn't understand a word of it, but Ransom looked impressed, and that was enough for him.

On the opposite end of every spectrum was Beam. The trooper sat at the back of the classroom, purposefully isolated from the room's activities. His helmet was off, his feet were kicked up onto a desk, and the only thing he was paying attention to was a mini-holoprojector.

Thoroughly displeased at what he was seeing, Hound's voice came out a bit more foreboding than he expected. "Trooper Beam, may I speak with you outside?"

Beam rushed to stow the mini-holoprojector in his pocket, stood, and snapped to attention. "Sergeant Hound, sir. I'd like to, but someone has to stay and supervise the civvie, sir."

"I'd be happy to wait with the group," Rend offered cheerfully.

"It really should be a member of the GAR, ma'am…" he trailed.

"If we run into any trouble, I'll scream," Rend told him. "How's that?"

"That's perfect," Hound said, fighting a grin. "Thank you, ma'am."

The conversation with Beam went roughly how Hound was expecting. The trooper apologized, but Hound got the sense that he was more sorry he got caught than anything else. As a final attempt to reach Beam's conscience, Hound did his best to channel Fox. "Do you know why we have civvies do community service?"

"Because we don't have the staffing to do certain things and they help us stretch the Guard."

Hound was taken aback. He would have considered it a tasteless joke and moved on, had Beam not looked so sincere. "Absolutely not. Community service is a way for civilians to repay their debts. By breaking the law, Ransom damaged parts of Coruscant's society. She broke society's trust that she had registered and gotten approval for her cybernetic alterations. Now, she is working to improve society as much as she harmed it."

"Whatever you say, Sergeant," Beam agreed eventually.

Hound stared at him. Since he was not Beam's direct supervisor, Hound couldn't actually reprimand the trooper. Still, he made a mental note to report his findings to Commander Stone as soon as possible. "You know what, Beam? I'm going to take over the rest of this community service assignment. You can go back to the precinct for the evening."

"Sir?"

"Dismissed, trooper," Hound said, more bluntly.

"Is someone leaving?" Rend asked, peering around the door.

"Beam is going home for the evening," Hound said. "How much longer do club meetings typically last?"

"About another half hour or so," she answered. "Will you be staying instead?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good," she said, clearly satisfied with the way things had turned out. "I'll leave you to it, then. You boys have a good night."

Hound smiled at the Zabrak female. "Thank you ma'am."

Rend swatted at his arm. "Now, Hound. I didn't tell you my name so that you could keep calling me 'ma'am'."

"Thank you, Rend," he corrected, knowing that she had told him no such thing.

"Yeah, thanks, Rend," Beam added with a sickly-looking smile.

"You can call me ma'am," Rend informed him, her voice sweet as she swept back down the hallway. Beam saluted Hound and trailed off in the same direction while the ARF sergeant stepped into the classroom. Ransom was now working with a droid that one of the students seemed to be reprogramming. The students had gathered around, watching her work with awe on their faces.

Ransom II

When the door opened once more, Hound entered alone, no signs of Beam or Ms. Rend. The ARF trooper sat in a chair by the door and watched with a faint smile for the rest of the meeting. He was quiet as Ransom helped the students work out minor problems in the droids they were attempting to build.

She had never had much of an interest in droid work before the accident - or, actually, anything having to do with mechanics or electrical systems - but necessity had made an expert of her. There were only so many times Ransom could go to have her cybernetics repaired before she had to either face bankruptcy or learn to do the work herself.

Ransom had taught herself much of what she knew, and she was learning as much from the students as they were from her. On one hand, their formal education gave them a solid understanding of why certain things worked the way they did. But Ransom's haphazard experiments had given her a practical knowledge of ways to get around common problems.

To her shock, Ransom found herself enjoying the time she spent with the club. More than one of the students introduced Ransom to the parent or guardian who came to pick them up, raving about her expertise. It was a bit overwhelming, but flattering.

When the last student had left, Hound spoke up for the first time. "Can I walk you back to the precinct? The sun has set and it's a little rough in this area."

Ransom turned to Hound, letting the pleasant smile she had been wearing drop. "Did you send Beam away because you thought I needed to be watched more closely?"

Hound seemed completely confused by her implication. "No, I sent him away because he was being rude and undermining you with the kids."

"Thank you, Sergeant Hound," Ransom said, forcing herself to be polite. "But I'll take this opportunity to remind you that I don't need your protection."

"I didn't do it to protect you," Hound told her bluntly. He winced a moment later and rubbed at his nose, but pressed on with his explanation. "These kids are smarter than I'll ever be. They're the future of the Republic. They need to see the system working how it's supposed to, not watch some low-level trooper abuse his power."

Ransom watched his shy face and felt a bubble of warmth rising in her chest. She did her best to quash the feeling, but it refused to dissipate. Finally, she sighed. "In that case, yes. You can walk me back to the precinct."

Hound's entire demeanor brightened at her acceptance of his offer. He bounded beside her as they left the Sheev Palpatine Academy and walked through the holo-lit streets of Coruscant.

Ever-ready for trouble, Ransom scanned the surrounding crowds for anyone who might try to harm them. She shouldn't have bothered. Though Hound wasn't wearing his armor, the citizens of Coruscant knew a clone trooper when they saw one. Any of the few beings she had guessed would give them problems took one look at Hound by her side and turned away with an air of disappointment.

Hound, of course, noticed none of this. He seemed like the type to be more reactive than proactive. It explained a lot. He chatted comfortably to Ransom on their walk, and she joined the conversation after a while. They spoke about the progress she had made registering or removing the alterations to her arm. Still, Ransom was ready to activate the remaining weapons if the people on this level of the city made it necessary. She had enough left to do some damage.

With those grim thoughts on her mind, Ransom almost triggered the electrical component on accident when a fully-armored trooper rounded a nearby corner with a massiff. Apparently anticipating her response, Hound swept Ransom back with one arm, calling a cheerful greeting to the other ARF trooper.

"Hey, Fang! On patrol?"

Ransom had fixed her attention on the massiff, who panted up at her with its tongue lolling from its mouth. She reared back a step before she could prevent the motion. Her first instinct was to put some extra space between herself and the curious animal.

Hound turned to her, ignoring the other trooper's response. "Are you okay here? I need to talk to Fang for a minute or two. We can get you farther away if that would make you more comfortable."

Ransom hated the pity, hated it more than anything. She kicked up her chin. "I'll be fine here."

Hound nodded, unoffended by her tone. He was halfway to Fang before she realized that she could have kept walking without him. Ransom stood and waited while Hound chatted with Fang. She kept a close eye on the massiff. The beast watched Ransom too, looking like it was considering taking a bite out of her

She lasted about five minutes before she lost what little patience she had started out with. Gathering all her courage - and steadily watching the massiff to be sure it wasn't making any unexpected moves - Ransom crossed toward where the men were talking.

"Hey, I'm going to go ahead and- Hey! No!" Ransom leapt back about ten feet as the massiff sniffed in her direction.

"Oh, sorry," Fang apologized. "Track just wants to say hello."

"She doesn't like massiffs," Hound explained, sounding a bit panicked. "Keep his lead short for me, would you?"

"No," Ransom said sharply, as surprised by the refusal as Hound looked. The word had burst from her lips without permission from her brain, but she took a deep breath. Maybe it was time to fight this phobia once and for all. "Keep- keep him over there and I'll be fine."

"Do you want to hear a little about him?" Fang asked encouragingly.

"Sure," Ransom agreed, sounding less than enthused.

Hound still looked tense, reminding the other trooper, "Keep his lead short."

"Well, this is Track," Fang told her, his voice warm and proud. "He's two years old, so he's kind of a teenager for massiffs? He's gone through all the training for the ARFs, but he's still got too much energy to do the job. Basically, Track has done all of the hard work, but he needs the experience to back it up."

"Plus he's Grizzer's little brother," Hound interjected.

"Wait, really?" Ransom asked, almost startled into laughter.

Fang rolled his eyes. "You should know that Hound is the only ARF in the whole GAR who invents lives for the massiffs. The rest of us troopers are normal."

Ransom chuckled at that, laughing aloud when Hound adopted a deeply wounded expression. "Is… Is Track friendly?"

"Oh, yes ma'am," Fang assured. "He's too friendly most of the time, actually. He would rather sit and stare at people than do anything more serious. Especially if they're willing to pet him."

"Could I- let him sniff my hand?"

"Are you sure you want to do that?" Hound asked before Fang could give his answer. He stepped toward Ransom, forcing her to look up at him while he lowered his voice. "You don't have anything to prove. Not to me, not to Fang, not to anyone."

"I have to do this, Hound," Ransom told him. "For myself."

Hound studied her for a long moment before giving a sharp nod and stepping out of her way. He stayed close, though, and she would never admit that she found that comforting.

When Ransom held out her cybernetically-enhanced arm, it was visibly shaking. Thankfully, neither of the ARF troopers tried to ask if she was sure about her experiment. Besides, she reasoned to herself, if something goes wrong and Track eats my arm, it's mostly metal at this point. I'll already be used to having a replacement.

Track sniffed at Ransom's metal fingers, concentrating on the places where the metal wove in and out of what remained of her arm's flesh and muscle. After a few heart-pounding moments, he had finished investigating the unfamiliar limb and sat back in his place pressed against Fang's leg. He panted up at Ransom with a curious expression on his face. Well, as curious as she had ever seen a massiff look, anyway.

Hound watched Ransom closely, seeming to sense that she would rather not speak. He clapped the other ARF trooper on the shoulder, the plastoid armor making an odd sound at the impact. "Anyway, it was good to see you, Fang! Have a quiet patrol."

Fang snorted, attention diverted away from Ransom. "We both know how likely that is on a Saturday night, but thanks. Nice to meet you, Ransom."

She gave a wave and a weak smile, but as soon as Fang had left earshot - not a time-consuming process on the busy level - Hound wheeled around with the biggest grin on his face.

"You did great!" he cheered. "How do you feel?"

"I feel…" Ransom trailed off, taking stock of herself. "I feel really good, actually."

"You should," Hound told her, his voice ringing with satisfaction. "You faced a fear and did it with bravery. I'm proud of you."

"Thank you," Ransom said softly, fighting a ridiculous urge to lower her eyes. Instead, she lifted her chin and met his gaze head-on. "We should get back to the precinct."

"Yeah, you're right," Hound agreed. "Same time next week?"

He looked so hopeful that even Ransom's hard heart couldn't stand the idea of shutting him down, and she reluctantly agreed.

Author's Note - Whew! This is a HUGE chapter! Fox and Nora's section is actually pretty short and I didn't want to leave you with a super small chapter for the week, so I paired it up with Hound and Ransom and then it ended up over 5,000 words long... Sorry about that! I know some of you prefer shorter chapter lengths, so I will go on record that this will be the longest chapter in the story. I was able to split the other ones into normal lengths. Have I mentioned how much I love Hound? I mean, I love all of the Coruscant Guard, obviously, but something about Hound just makes me smile a little wider. He's such a sweetheart!

As always, thank you to those who have followed or favorited, and special thanks to last week's reviewers: KarajeJinsta and LethalJustice94!

Thank you for reading, feel free to leave some feedback, and I will see you next week! Have a wonderful day!