Most clones only ever had one name that they settled into. They didn't tend to try names out to see what suited them. Many of them might have wanted to, but they ultimately didn't because to a clone, being accepted as an individual was the most important thing, regardless of just who that individual was.
People already didn't take clones seriously. They didn't think their names meant more than just fun little nicknames, like they were all playing a game with their entire identities. So even when a clone found themself with a name that might be demeaning, or they might not be the biggest fans of, they continued to use it and let it grow on them. They knew that if they started changing names and experimenting with who they were then the Kaminoans, and everybody else, would see it as an excuse to dismiss them and their names.
Fox was an exception, because this hadn't been his first name, or even his second. He'd had two previous ones before he'd settled on Fox. The first had been just Tens. 1010. That was his designation, and one of the trainers had decided to shorten it to just Tens. Fox hadn't really seen it as a name, but his vode had jumped right on it.
He still didn't know if they thought the nickname had been funny and wanted it to stick so they could tease him about it, or if they just latched onto the name because they'd been worried that he wouldn't have one otherwise. As a cadet he had never thought much about his name. It had always been the least of his concerns. He had wanted one, but he hadn't wanted to think about it.
He had been Tens for a bit, and then they had a training session with Prime. Jango Fett didn't bother with the training of clones. Fox saw him around every once and a while, but he was completely disinterested. He only came to this particular sparring session because the Kaminoans had insisted.
Fett had been hard on them. He didn't hold back when he sparred against them, even though they had only been about six years old at the time. They all got bruised and beat up when it was their turn against him. Hound got a concussion within seconds. Bly got a black eye so swollen that it took a week for it to go down. Gree's ribs got bruised. But those were all expected injuries that came with sparring. They were on the extreme end, but not too unusual.
And then it was Cody's turn. Fox remembered this part vividly. He could still see the moment when Fett's foot came down harshly on his vod's upper leg. He could remember the harsh cracking sound, immediately followed by one of the most agonized screams that he had ever heard.
Things were a blur for Fox after that. His next memories were of Alpha-17 restraining him while he kicked and lashed out violently. He'd had the taste of blood in his mouth, and something else. A musky taste that lingered on his tongue and made him feel furious and slightly ill. And standing just in front of him had been Fett.
The man had had bloody marks all over him. Most of them looked like scratches, but at least one of them was clearly teeth marks. Fox wasn't a fool. It wasn't hard to figure out what happened.
He had been sure that he was going to be decommissioned for his behavior. He thought that Fett would take him out himself. But the man hadn't been angry. He had looked amused and impressed more than anything. He had grinned broadly and approached Fox, ruffling his hair, laughing when he almost got bitten again for his efforts.
"You're a feral little one, aren't you?" Fett had said. "That will serve you well one day."
Word had spread like wildfire. It wasn't long before everybody was whispering behind their back about the 'feral' clone that had caught Fett's attention. His vode had tried to give him his privacy. They somehow kept everybody from learning just who this 'feral' clone was, but that didn't keep everybody from talking about it. Because nobody knew who had attacked Fett, they started referring to him as Feral behind his back.
Alpha-17 had loved the name. Cody had thought it was something to be proud of, because he had truly earned it. Fox hadn't agreed at the time, and he had been a bit hurt about it, but he hadn't blamed Cody. He was the one that Fox had defended. He would much prefer his brother feel proud of him than feel guilty about the whole thing.
Gree and Bly thought the name suited him, and Fox hadn't been able to figure out how to say why he hated it. Wolffe was the only one who got it, and he was the one who pulled Fox aside and gave him some alternative names to use. Fox was the easiest, and obviously the one he'd settled on. It made him feel like he matched with his vod, and it started with the same letter as 'Feral' did, so the others would accept it easier.
He hadn't thought about the name in years. It wasn't who he was. Fox was in control. He had been trained to be a leader, and he took his job seriously. Feral was…well, feral.
Sometimes though he felt that fierce fury building up inside of him, begging to come out. He could control himself, and he hadn't lost it since that incident with Fett, but that protectiveness was always there. He had felt it building up the second that he saw Dogma come into the office. It got stronger when Dogma froze, clearly under the influence of the Chancellor's power. It was practically screaming at him when Dogma aimed his blaster at himself.
But there was nothing he could do, and it all happened so quickly. Before he could even process his terror he saw Dogma shoot himself in the leg and collapse to the ground with a scream that echoed Fox' own.
He couldn't control his fury anymore, and more important than that he wanted to try to hold back anymore. He let go and for the first time since he was a child he lashed out and let himself be Feral again.
He screamed in fury and lunged. His body ached and his limbs spasmed because of the lightning, but that didn't matter. He could push past that pain. His discomfort was literally the least of his concerns. All that mattered was that Dogma was hurt. The Chancellor had hurt him, and he needed to pay.
The Chancellor was always careful to make sure that there was never anything in the room that Fox could use against him. He was reluctant to even allow Fox in there at the same time as the red guards, just in case he tried to steal their weapons. He never would, but the Chancellor was never too careful.
He'd made Fox feel vulnerable and weak, and he'd made sure that it was clear that there was no escape for him. He couldn't save himself, and nobody could save him. The pain would only stop when the Chancellor got bored or decided to show mercy, and the Chancellor never felt mercy.
It had been this way since Fox had first been assigned to Coruscant. He had endured this torture for years because what other choice did he have. If he defended himself he might as well be signing his own death sentence.
But as careful as the Chancellor had been, it wasn't careful enough. Fox wouldn't fight back for his own sake, but then he'd hurt Dogma, and now he didn't have a reason to hold back.
The Chancellor was a fool if he thought that the only reason Fox hadn't attacked before was because he'd been stripped of his weapons. He'd been trained by the best trainers on Kamino. His ferocity had been recognized by Fett himself, and it wasn't as though Fox had any weapons back then. He didn't need a blaster or a blade. He had his hands, his legs, and his teeth. All he needed was a push to make him want to fight, and the Chancellor had just given it to him.
Fox, feeling more Feral than he had all those years ago, he struck. He let out a primal cry and dashed towards the Chancellor. He had a very small window of opportunity, because he knew that even if the Chancellor didn't expect him to attack, his shock wouldn't last long. He was a lot stronger than Fox. He had powers that he didn't really understand. But Fox had seen those powers at work more often than he could count, and he knew of a weakness.
Whatever the Chancellor did, it took focus. He had to concentrate. Fox knew this, because whenever the Chancellor went into his mind, or somehow made the room feel like it was full of a thick darkness, or when he used that electricity, there was always a break if there was a knock on the door or if he got a call on his comms. If the Chancellor was interrupted, his influence over Fox faltered. It was just a little, but that little was enough for Fox to recognize the weakness for what it was.
The chancellor needed to focus, and Fox knew for a fact just how hard it was to focus when one couldn't breathe.
He didn't waste one movement. He swept a leg around the Chancellor's and pulled, making him unsteady on his feet. It was only a little bit, but it was enough. Fox wrapped his hands around the Chancellor's throat. He positioned his hands just right, just like Alpha-17 had taught him. He positioned his thumbs right where the air pipes were, and he pushed down like he had never pushed down before.
He could feel the familiar dark force from the Chancellor. The expected lightning was there. Fox could feel it, and he didn't care about it at all. In fact, he appreciated the lightning, because it made his body instinctively stiffen, which made him push down even harder.
There was a pressure around Fox' own throat. He didn't know if the Chancellor was doing something, or if maybe he was screaming or growling and didn't even realize it. He didn't really care. Why should it matter if his throat was a little sore? Dogma was on the ground behind him, forced by the Chancellor to hurt himself. Fox would push through any pain in the world if there was even a small chance that he could save Dogma or any other vod from suffering.
Fox was strong and he caught the Chancellor off guard, but the old man was incredibly willful. His concentration didn't break. The Chancellor scowled dangerously and his eyes flashed a sickly yellow, and suddenly Fox was thrust away from him, thrown back with all the carelessness and effort that one might toss aside an unwanted doll.
Fox hit the wall harshly. He felt something in his back shift. Not quite break, but there was a pressure there that he knew would be agony to deal with the second he was no longer running on adrenaline and fury. He knew this, and he didn't care. He pushed himself back to his feet, ignoring the pain, and lunged towards the Chancellor again.
He knew he probably wouldn't get anywhere near him this time. The Chancellor was expecting him, and he was ready for it. Fox was going to go down, but he was going to use every bit of his strength to show the Chancellor just how feral he was.
There was an odd sound. Fox recognized it as a blaster going off, but he didn't understand why he would be hearing it. Dogma was down. The Chancellor didn't use blasters. Fox certainly didn't have a weapon. He didn't even consider that there might be somebody else there, because why would there be?
But Fox didn't question it. He just saw it as a miracle when the Chancellor flinched ever so slightly and turned his attention away from Fox and towards the doorway. His attention wouldn't be diverted for long, and Fox was going to take advantage of it while he could. He grabbed one of the Chancellor's most expensive and strong vases. He'd knocked his head against this particular vase more times than he could count, and it didn't have so much as a scratch on it. Fox wondered if it would be as durable if he used it to bash the Chancellor's head in.
He would love to test that theory out, but even at his most feral he was still smart. The Chancellor was expecting him to fight with weapons, because why wouldn't he? So Fox threw the vase right towards the Chancellor, aiming just a little high. He hoped the man would duck away. He didn't. He just waved his hand and sent the vase flying in the other direction. No matter. It had still served its purpose.
The second the vase left his hands Fox was diving towards the Chancellor, wanting to knock him down to the ground again while his attention was on the vase. It was a lot easier to maul on someone if they couldn't fight back or run away, and Fox knew how hard it was to do anything if you couldn't get your legs properly under you.
Fox tried to scratch and attack every bit of the Chancellor's skin that he could reach. He didn't have a lot of time to work, because the Chancellor still had that weird power of his. Fox barely got a really good attack in right at those eyes of his when he felt a pressure wrap around him and yank him away. He didn't slam into the wall this time though. The hold was firm, but it was weirdly gentle and he didn't think he liked it.
"What is going on in here?" He heard a familiar voice, and it didn't make him feel any better. He growled and glared towards the doorway. He saw Anakin Skywalker standing there, one hand held up towards Fox, and the other held up towards the Chancellor, who also looked like he was being held back.
It was a sight for sore eyes, but Fox knew it wouldn't last. Skywalker was just as much the Chancellor's pet as Fox was. Just because Fox had gnashed his teeth and let himself be feral didn't mean that Skywalker would do the same. He would let the Chancellor go, and Fox would be punished for his behavior.
He should be afraid, but he wasn't. He was just frustrated that he hadn't been able to finish the job. Oh well. Skywalker was really protective of Dogma. He would take care of him. As for what happened to Fox, well, who cared what happened to him?