Saga The Fighting Kind: Captain Rex/OC, Romance/Drama, COMPLETE as of 5/19/14

Lovely pronunciation - makes her name even more unique. Like immensely that Irini has taken a liking to Rex.

I didn't realize Order 66 was so close! *Gasp* That makes Brenna's return even more urgent. Loved the sibling talk and Caith's natural concerns. I really hope Rex's outcome related to the Jedi and the 'faux Chancellor' is more like what happens in Revanfan1's "Finishing the Mission." Wherever he winds up, I hope Bren and Irini can go there. Eagerly! awaiting more!

 

@Nyota's Heart: Yes, Order 66 is drawing closer... [cue ominous music] Glad you liked the talk with Caith! ​

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Oohhh, that fic sounds interesting. I'll have to check it out. ​

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Thanks for the comment! ​

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Chapter Thirty-Six​

Bren: This has to be a short one, I'm afraid. We're being deployed almost as I write this, and it looks to be a long haul. There's talk of Torrent heading to the Core at some point, but it might just be a rumor.

I'm still going to speak to Ahsoka; she might be able to put in a good word for your transfer back to the Resolute. I know it's a long shot, but it was worth a try.

I miss you more than I can say, but it helps to know that you and Iri are safe. I'll comm again as soon as I can. All my love, Rex.

PS: thank Iri for the “feather.” It made my day.

*​

Three weeks prior to Order 66...

For once, the Resolute was at peace.

Having just finished a bloody campaign on an unnamed, Outer-Rim moon, the Venator-class ship was between missions for the moment, making its way through hyperspace towards the next destination: Naboo. By all accounts it was supposed to be a blue-milk run, something about transferring supplies...in all honesty Rex wasn't really concerned with the matter, as his mind was too occupied with the health of his men and the persistent ache of loss that he wished could be filled with Bren's presence.

It was a selfish desire, that of wanting her to be with him when it was so much better for her to be elsewhere – with her daughter, no less – but there it was.

Luckily, this late in the Resolute's cycle, no one else was about, and he had the mess-hall to himself, so there was no one to see him push around the “food” on his plate with a grimace. Rex wasn't hungry, particularly not for the unappetizing moray of food-supplements that the mess contained, but he thought it wise to eat something; if Kix thought that the captain was neglecting his own health, the medic would likely shove some ration cubes down his throat anyway, so in a sense Rex figured he was practicing a kind of conflict-avoidance tactic.

“Cred for your thoughts?”

Ahsoka's voice slipped into his attention gently, prying between his sorrow and his loneliness and making him turn towards her as she sat beside him at the empty table. As she did so, she slid a cup of fresh caf his way, a mug of tea resting before her. “I know I just got back, but you seem...sad,” she added, her eyes flickering to his full plate then back up to his face. “Is everything okay with Brenna...?”

Perhaps in the past he would have said “fine” and tried to shrug away her concern; it was, after all, an intensely personal matter that had nothing to do with his role in the GAR. But Ahsoka was his friend, and it wasn't in quite the same way as Fives was. And – he realized – she had been busy with her own affairs recently, and had likely not heard his most recent news.

So he exhaled and looked her way. “Bren had to return to her homeworld for a time – family emergency. We're not sure when she'll be back. Or,” he added with a grimace. “If she'll be able to come back to the Resolute, at all.”

At the words, Ahsoka's blue eyes widened, and her lips parted in surprise, the expression conveying sympathy. “I'm sorry, Rex...that's...”

“Yeah,” he replied with a slow nod. “It is. Thanks.” He paused, then took a sip of the caf she'd brought: hot, sharp, but could've used a bit more sugar.

The Padawan was quiet for a moment, fingering the handle of her mug, then she shot him a careful look. “I've never seen you this way.”

The words were unexpected. Rex blinked at her, then looked down at his mug, studying the contents as he spoke. “I miss her...it gets worse each day.”

When she nodded he looked back up, and could see the concern still evident in her gaze; it was concern, but it was not yet understanding. With a sigh, Rex held her eyes and spoke with deliberation. “I love her, kid.”

Ahsoka held perfectly still for a heartbeat, then crossed her arms before her on the table and tilted her head upwards as if daydreaming. “Captain Rex in love,” she said after a moment, the words holding a faint, teasing edge that was her way when she was trying to make him smile. “I never thought I'd see the day. Who knew you had a soft, mushy side under all that armor?”

She knew him well and Rex couldn't help but chuckle at her tone, though he could have done without the imagery. A look of relief crossed her face as she noted his reaction, and she smiled back. After a moment, he exhaled again and considered her. “I have a favor, Ahsoka.”

“Name it and it's yours,” she replied, sitting up and giving him that overly serious look that reminded him of the kid he'd met at the start of the Wars.

He smiled, both at her insistence and the memory. “Would you please put in a good word for Brenna? Maybe if the GAR has a Jedi's recommendation, they'd be more inclined to speed up her application – even assign her back here.”

When her face fell he tried not to feel the sting of disappointment. Seeing his reaction, she sat up and slid her mug out of the way so that she could set a hand on his gauntlet. “Of course I will, Rex,” she said with a warm look that was edged with sorrow. “It's just...I don't know how much good it'd do. We don't have much say in the civilian contractors that come through, and besides...I'm only a lowly Padawan.”

“You're a Jedi,” he responded in a firm voice. “They'll listen to you, I'm certain.” I hope.

Ahsoka didn't look convinced, but she nodded anyway. After a moment she took a deep breath and cast another glance his way. In a direct contrast to how she'd seemed before, there was a maturity in her eyes that he'd noticed more and more every time he saw her. As surely as he'd been changed by recent events, she'd grown up as well, and it was moments like these where he thought he knew her better than anyone else. “I know it's hard being parted from the one you love, Rex. Trust me...I wish I didn't.”

Startled, Rex sat up and leveled his gaze on her. He remembered her saying that she'd been able to find snatches of time with Bonteri, especially when the Resolute made its way to Coruscant, but he'd never thought that it would amount to something so serious. “You...and him? Love?”

A dark flush swept through her montrals and she gave a graceful shrug. “Yeah. Kind of took me by surprise...I mean, I know he's an idiot sometimes, but his heart's in the right place. But don't ask me about the Jedi Code,” she added with knitted brow-lines. “I'm still figuring all that out.”

Recalling his conversation with Skywalker, Rex shook his head. “If it's any consolation, I don't think you're the only one.”

At this, she cast him a curious look; after a beat he elaborated. “He admitted as much to me about two months ago. We were right about Senator Amidala, after all.”

“Padmé?” Ahsoka frowned, then gave a deep exhale. “I wonder if that's why he's been so...distracted lately?”

“I don't know,” Rex replied. “But it's...unsettling, sometimes. Did you hear about Ojom?” She shook her head and he related the battle to her; when he mentioned how Skywalker had tossed the Spaarti clones aside as well as the droids, Ahsoka's eyes grew wide and her face darkened.

Once he'd finished, she shook her head again, out of disbelief. “I'll talk to him,” she said at once. “I know it won't bring those men back, Rex, but I have to say something.”

Rex nodded and sipped his caf. The conversation had been something of a diversion, but Brenna's absence gnawed at him constantly, and he wished again that they were together. However, it was also nice – in a different way, of course – to sit here with Ahsoka and speak so frankly.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, then he sighed and scowled down at his mug. Ahsoka gave him a look. “What is it, Rexter?”

“We're a fine pair.”

She grinned, then lifted her mug to him; Rex raised his cup of caf and they clicked them together. “To love,” Ahsoka said right before she took a sip. “Hopefully it won't always suck so badly.”

Again, he had to laugh at her words and her jovial tone. “Hear, hear.”

*​

Rex: Thank your friend for me, but I don't know how much good even a Jedi can do right now; still no new news on my application, and when I comm'd the placement office yesterday I was told that the Supreme Chancellor has put a freeze on all new GAR personnel assignments “until further notice.” However, since I'm technically a re-hire and not a brand-new hire, I was told that there is still some hope for my placement.

Of course, they said that it will take time.

Anyway, Iri and I are doing well. We're supposed to visit my mother tomorrow and I'm a bit nervous; I haven't been home since I left over seven years ago, and we only recently started talking again.

I miss you, Rex. I think about you constantly, and I hope that this blasted war will end soon; if it does, maybe we can figure something out. Alderaan's lovely...I think you'd like it, here.

Stay safe. I love you.

*​

Two weeks prior to Order 66...

The house where Brenna and Caith had grown up rested in the shadow of Zephyr Mountain, a place well-suited to its name. The moment that she stepped out of the speeder she'd borrowed from Caith, Brenna was assaulted by a series of gusts that threatened to rip her hair from its holder and toss it above her head. Luckily, it was a brief burst of wind and it quieted as she unbuckled Iri from the speeder-seat.

“Mama?” The question in her daughter's voice made Brenna turn; Iri's chubby finger was outstretched and pointing towards a series of low barns to the left. Beyond the barn, there was a grassy pasture where she could make out the quagga as they grazed. Iri cast her a curious look. “Mama...see pony?”

“Quagga,” she replied, hefting Iri on her hip as she began to walk towards her mother's front door. “They're like ponies, but they're not as nice,” she added with a grimace, thinking of the copious kicks and bites she'd received as she'd grown up around the equines.

“Cwag...cwag-gah,” Iri said, frowning over the word as she turned her head to watch the creatures; a moment later she sighed. “Pretty.”

“They are very pretty,” Brenna agreed with a smile. “As long as you look and don't touch, like we talked about. Remember?”

She felt her daughter nod, but missed the soft reply. The gravel that led to her mother's house was loud under her shoes, and again Brenna debated turning around and leaving, because this was really the last place in the galaxy she wanted to be right now. But, she reasoned with herself, it was necessary to come here, to make peace with her mother and to let Iri meet her grandmother. Family was important.

Situated at the top of a gently sloping hill, her mother's house was of an older make, wooden but very solid, and had withstood the test of about seventy years' worth of winter winds and summer heat; although it wasn't as large as some of the other ranch homes in this area, Brenna had always felt that this place would be around forever, even after the mountain crumbled to dust and the persistent winds finally died down.

As she climbed the steps, Brenna glanced around. Nothing had changed: there was the rickety old swing that she'd broken a number of times during her youth – not by being careless, certainly, because it really was old and rickety; there was that hole that Caith had made one summer when he'd been searching for his pet field-fox who'd run away and hidden beneath the porch; there was the faded “welcome” plaque at her mother's door, the one that Brenna had always hated because the “c” was crooked and the lettering as a whole was ugly and hardly legible. Apparently her mother still refused to get a new one.

She stood before the door, hand unmoving even as it was poised to knock.

“Mama...see ponies? Please?” In her arms, Iri cast her another curious look that was also filled with hope; coupled with chubby cheeks and wide, honey-brown eyes, the expression was almost too adorable to resist, and had they been anywhere but her mother's house, Brenna probably have complied.

“Soon, sweetheart,” she replied as she rapped three times against the door. Maybe she got the days confused and she'd not in...

No such luck. The door opened immediately, revealing the form of Jensine Damaris. Shorter than Bren by several handspans, the blonde woman had the look of someone who could go from cooking a dinner for thirty to skinning a nerf without batting an eyelash; she was petite but there was a solid look to her, like she could slam her fist into a durasteel wall and the wall would be the thing that yelped in pain. “Hello, Brenna.”

“Hi, Mom.”

Jensine's eyes, a surprisingly mild blue, fixed onto Iri, who'd twisted around to observe her grandmother. When she spoke, there was a softer tone to her voice than Brenna had heard in a long time. “Hello, Irini. Do you know who I am?”

Iri was quiet for a moment, her fingers tightening on Brenna's shirt as she nodded but didn't speak. Jensine shot Brenna an unreadable look, then placed a tan, weathered hand on her own chest. “I'm your grandmother, Jensine. I'm your mother's mother.”

“We talked about Nana, remember Iri?” Brenna added, glancing down at her daughter, who met her gaze with uncertainty.

As Brenna was about to apologize, Iri looked at Jensine and gave a hopeful smile. “Nana...see ponies?”

Those damn quagga, Brenna thought with a sigh. She'll never be satisfied until we visit the things. “She means the quagga, Mom. She's been dying to see them.”

Jensine straightened, clearly pleased. “Well, then we'll have to accommodate her, won't we?” She stepped aside, allowing Brenna entry, and the younger woman was struck at once by how everything was the same.

Just like the outside, the interior of the house refused to succumb to the passage of time; save for a few new prize ribbons lined up along the mantle of the massive, brick fireplace, everything was as it had been the last time Brenna had been inside her mother's home.

It was cluttered without seeming to be, as much of the clutter was the useful sort that could be found on a ranch like this: bits of tack – saddles, bridles, the odd stirrup strap or two – were scattered about the space, filling the living room with the scent of leather and soap; pics – stills and holos – clung to every available surface, walls and end-tables, and Brenna could see her own face at various ages looking back at her as she and Iri stepped into the living room, as if she was staring into the past.

Of course, Iri was instantly fascinated by everything, and began squirming in Brenna's arms, anxious to touch all of the newness. But all Brenna could see were heavy things that could fall and delicate things that could break, and since she had no desire to chase after the toddler, she held her with an iron grip.

Iri was not pleased. “Mama! Down?”

“No, Iri...”

“Mama, please?”

Jensine watched the struggle for a moment, then cleared her throat. “There's nothing here that she can harm, Brenna. Just let her take a look around.”

“Yes!” Iri added in agreement, adding another hopeful look and a very deliberate, “Please, Mama?”

“Mom...she's two,” Brenna replied with a shake of her head, struggling to contain her daughter's flailing limbs. “I know she's little, but she can be very destructive...”

At this, Jensine snorted and crossed her arms. “I remember what two-year olds are like, Brenna. You weren't exactly serene yourself.”

“Mama! Down!”

Experience had taught that it was useless to argue with Jensine Damaris for any length of time. Suppressing a frown, Brenna bent and set Iri on the slat-wood floor and gave her daughter a meaningful look. “I want your word that you'll be very careful, Iri,” she said in a stern voice, trying to inflect some of Rex's more commanding tones that always got results – with his men, anyway.

She wondered how he'd fare against a toddler. “Say 'I promise I'll be careful Mama.'”

The little girl's face was solemn as she nodded. “Care-ful, Mama. Pro-mise.”

With a sigh, Brenna stood up; for several moments, she and Jensine watched the toddler make her way around the room, inspecting everything at her eye-level, above and below. As she was crouching on her hands and knees, peering beneath the sofa, Jensine shot Brenna an amused glance. “You've done a good job with her.”

Brenna shrugged. “It doesn't feel that way.”

“You were a regular terror at her age,” Jensine replied with a shake of her head. “A new tantrum practically every hour. She's quite well-behaved...I imagine she gets it from-”

Abruptly, Jensine's mouth snapped shut, and she knelt down and called softly to the toddler, who approached her after a moment. As she watched her mother and her daughter, Brenna pushed away the flare of indignation she'd felt from the words in lieu of speculation.

How much of Tucker was in Iri? How many of the “altered genetics” had made their way into her daughter? She was a handful, as most young children were, but she did listen rather well, considering the horror stories that Brenna had heard from other parents through time. There were no children of clones elsewhere – that she knew of, anyway – so Brenna had no way of knowing if Iri's behavior was a result of Kaminoan meddling, or if she was just...

“No, Irini!” Jensine's voice rose above a shattering sound; looking up, Brenna bit back a chuckle as Iri stood amidst the glittering remains of a crystal thranta statue, one of the only decorative pieces that had been in the room. Immediately, Brenna's mother swept the little girl in her arms and frowned at Brenna, who gave her an innocent smile.

“Perhaps we should visit the quagga, now,” Jensine said with a sigh.

Iri brightened. Brenna's smile widened as she looked from her daughter to her mother. “Want me to clean that up, Mom?”

“No, thank you,” Jensine replied, setting Iri back on the ground well-away from the broken crystal. “I'll get one of the kids to do it, later.”

Before the little girl could protest at being taken away, Brenna took her hand and mentioned the quagga to her; as she'd hoped, Iri's attention shifted from the shiny, pretty new things in the living room to the “ponies,” and she eagerly nodded. As they slipped out the front door and began to walk around the house, towards the stables, Brenna cast her mother a look. “The kids? Do you mean the station-hands?”

Iri tugged at her hand as if to draw them closer to the quagga, but the adults kept their pace steady. Jensine shook her head. Once they'd left the house, she'd placed a wide-brimmed hat over her head to shield her face from the sun, which was burning in the clear sky. “No station-hands this season,” she said with a shrug. “I've been paying the neighbors' kids to stop by and take care of some of the chores.”

The gravel driveway that led to the main stable yard took them down a sloping hill; on either side was thick, pale grass that swayed beneath the ubiquitous wind. The clips that had held Iri's fair hair in place had mysteriously vanished, and the toddler's baby-curls were being tossed by the breeze as she tugged her mother's hand again as they approached the stables.

Brenna surveyed the area: two low buildings outfitted for forty quagga each, twenty stalls on either side of an open walkway, with rooms for tack and other equipment, as well as rooms upstairs for any hired hands. Additionally, there was a storage barn for the hay, feed and other items, kept safe from rodents and pests by a humming energy shield at its base.

“The neighbors have their own stock to worry about,” Brenna replied after a moment, after urging Iri to slow down. “They can't possibly be that much of a help. Why don't you just hire-”

“I don't need any more help,” her mother interrupted with a scowl. “I can manage just fine on my own. I've kept this place running smoothly ever since your father died, and I'll continue to do so.”

Brenna took a deep breath. “Mom, you're one person. You can't run a business and take care of all the stock on your own...it's just too much.”

“Times are...different,” Jensine replied, lifting her hand as if to wave Brenna's words away. “Those blasted Wars make everyone skittish as foals; if they're not running off to join one side or another, they're too scared that the fighting will find its way here to do much else but stick their heads in the ground. Good help is hard to come by. If you'd stuck around, you would remember that.”

There was bitterness in her voice, old and stale, but it stung nonetheless. “I didn't leave to spite you, Mom. I left because I didn't want to live here for the rest of my life. I wanted to do...more.”

Jensine narrowed her eyes in the manner of someone fighting back her words; indeed, she didn't say anything for a few moments, until they approached the main pasture. A swift count revealed that there were at least two dozen quagga grazing on the thick grass, with a handful of knobby-legged foals cavorting between the more stately adults.

Iri nearly lunged out of Brenna's grasp in an effort to be closer to the animals, all while calling, “Pretty! Pretty! See, Mama?”

“I see them, Iri.”

The glossy, russet coats of the equines stood out among the grass; their manes were short, bristling up along curving necks to end in a tuft between the quaggas' large ears. Slender tails with swatches of white and black hair that peppered the ends flicked across flanks and fetlocks, chasing away any insects who approached. Brenna's favorite part of the quagga, however, were the rows of wavy stripes that started at their noses and moved down through their shoulders, fading once they reached about mid-torso.

In her opinion, they weren't the friendliest creatures, but they were pretty. At the humans' approach, several of the closest quagga lifted their heads and cast inquiring looks towards the two-legged interlopers; moments later, when Jensine led her daughter and granddaughter towards the fence, they began to walk over, ears tilted forward and nostrils flaring.

Jensine pulled out a handful of small carrots from her pocket and glanced at Brenna, who shook her head. “They're perfectly gentle, Brenna,” Jensine said with a roll of her eyes. “You just don't like them, and they pick up on your feelings.”

“It's hard to like something that's given you as many bruises as they have,” Brenna replied. Before her, Iri was staring open-mouthed at the nearest quagga, a juvenile with a particularly vibrant array of stripes.

“Pretty...” the toddler whispered, reaching her hand out. As Brenna bent to pull her daughter back, the juvenile quagga stuck its head through the slats of the fence – which wasn't, Brenna noted with annoyance, supplemented with energy shields like it should have been – and lipped at Iri's hair. In response, Iri let out a shriek of joy that sent some of the quagga back a few steps; the juvenile, however, didn't seem fazed, instead whickering softly and moving its nostrils down to nose the small Human.

Brenna swallowed, then looked at her mother, who wore a rather pleased expression. “Here,” the older woman said, handing Brenna a carrot. “Let Iri feed her this. She's fine, Brenna,” she added with another eye-roll as Brenna frowned.

The quagga's ears were flexed forward as she tracked the carrot's movements with great interest; with a sigh, Brenna knelt beside Iri and held up the carrot. “Do you want to feed her, Iri?”

At the little girl's nod, Brenna took another breath. “Hold out your palm flat,” she said, demonstrating with her free hand. “Keep very still and don't shout at her, okay?”

Iri did so; her tiny hand was about as still as it could be, the palm facing skyward. Brenna placed the carrot on Iri's palm, and the quagga shifted her head forward through the fence slats again to reach the treat. As Brenna watched with trepidation, the creature used her mouth – not her teeth – to gently lip up the carrot; sounds of satisfied crunching were evident a moment later. Around her, the others had returned, eager for a handout.

For one moment, Iri was frozen, her eyes fixed on the quagga with wonder, then she turned to Brenna, beaming. “Mama! Nice pony!”

“She is, Iri,” Jensine replied with a chuckle. “Want to feed her again?” Nodding, Iri held out her hand; as they watched her feed the quagga, Jensine shot Brenna a glance. “See? Nothing to worry about.”

Brenna made noncommittal noise and kept her eyes on her daughter, while also keeping tabs on the creatures themselves. After a moment, she looked back at her mother, briefly. “She's really having fun. Thanks, Mom.”

“Of course she is,” Jensine replied with a nod. She paused, ran her hand along the edge of her hat, then looked at the horizon. “Thank you for bringing her here. I was worried...”

“Mom...”

Jensine sighed and looked back at her. “I meant what I said before; I want things to be different. I want to know my granddaughter and...my daughter. I know that there's...a lot between us, but I want to move past it.”

The wind lifted Brenna's hair, finally dragging it free of the elastic that had been holding it in place. “Me too.”

Nodding, Jensine glanced at Iri, who was tentatively stroking the velvety nose of the juvenile quagga, whose eyes were half-closed as if in pleasure. “Family is important,” she said in a quiet voice as Brenna worked to gather her hair up. “The most important thing, I think. And even when you go back to the GAR, I want you to know that you have a place here, Brenna. Always.”


No immediate response came to her at this, so Brenna only nodded.

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A/N: Quagga are "real" creatures, though they are extinct now. I needed an equine to use in the story, and didn't like any of the ones from Wookieepedia, so I borrowed from our galaxy. ​

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Thanks for reading! ​

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Next time: The countdown's over. ​

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Enjoyed the Rex/Ahsoka talk. True friends indeed. The scene at Jensine's - Irini's part of the bridge to renewed closeness. Brenna and Jensine are at least both willing to talk and work at things. Where Jensine is living sounds a gorgeous place. Would make a nice home-away from home.

 

@Nyota's Heart: Aw, I'm glad you liked the Rex/Ahsoka scene. I tried to capture their friendship as best I could. ​

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And I totally want to visit Jensine's house! (Pre-Death Star, at least. )​

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Thanks for the comment! ​

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*****​

Chapter Thirty-Seven​

Rex was seated in the Corrie barracks with Ahsoka, Fives, Kix and Tup when Jesse barreled into the room, his limbs moving almost too quickly for the rest of him to catch up while he held his comm aloft like a trophy. The moment he entered the doorway, the troopers and the Jedi, who'd been engaged in a game of sabacc at one of the rounded tables, looked up to see the tattooed clone's face alight with joy.

“General Kenobi did it,” he exclaimed, his voice breathless. “On Utapau...he killed Grievous! The head clanker's finally dead!”

There had been a spurt of raucous laughter just prior to this – everyone was between missions and just thankful to be at rest for a moment – but the sound died in an instant at Jesse's words. Rex was the first to react, nearly coming out of his seat as he bolted upright, his heart hammering with the implications if it were really true. “Are you...?”

Jesse gave him a look that would have been knowing had he not been grinning so hard. “Yeah, Cap. I'm sure.”

Something inside Rex, something that had been tightly coiled and withdrawn, floated loose, adrift into space.

The War was over.

“Master Obi-Wan...” Ahsoka said, looking at the tattooed clone with wide eyes. “He's okay, right?” Jesse nodded and a look of relief crossed her face. “Thank the Force,” she whispered.

“The Seps are being routed by the 212th as we speak,” Jesse added, nodding to his comm, and Rex wondered if Cody was alive. Probably...stubborn di'kut was impossible to take down for any length of time. “But I imagine it's just a formality at this point.”

Tup whooped with joy, slamming his fist down then leaping up to embrace Jesse, Kix and an amused Ahsoka. As the others celebrated, Fives shot Rex a careful look. They were sitting next to one another, so when Fives spoke it was easy for the captain to hear his words. “What now?”

“I don't know.” Shaking his head, Rex cast a glance around the room; it was empty, save for himself and the others. He needed to call Bren, to tell her the news and...

The thing inside of him that was drifting free was heading to Alderaan.

Rex knew that he was going to follow.

Around him, the others were laughing and talking, gesticulating wildly in speculation of how the fight with Grievous could have gone, and he didn't know how to break into their joy with his own realization.

It had been a tense week or so after the Corrie battle, after they'd been recalled from the Outer Rim to assist the Coruscant Guard in protecting the city against the Seps; everyone had been pleased when Skywalker and Kenobi had finished Dooku on the head clanker's ship, despite the fact that the battle on-planet had been grim. In many ways, however, it had been like old times, and Ahsoka had led the men of Torrent, “regular” and Spaarti alike, with her usual skill.

“What are we waiting for?” Jesse was saying, glancing around the empty billet. “We need to celebrate!”

Rex missed the others' reply, as in that moment his wristcomm emitted a soft chirrup, the cadence one that he barely recognized. No one else seemed to notice; Ahsoka was on her own comlink, a few steps away from the others, her face lit in an expression of joy as she spoke to the person on the other end – Bonteri, likely. Kix and Tup were still speaking with Jesse, but Fives' eyes had flicked to Rex at the sound of the incoming message. At Rex's gaze, Fives tilted his head in a questioning manner, as his own comm was silent. Rex shrugged, then raised his wrist to activated the transmission.

A blue, glowing figure – a man whose features were shadowed by a hooded cloak, similar to those the Jedi wore – emerged and spoke to him in a voice like boots against wet gravel. “Execute Order 66.”

For one moment, all that Rex could do was stare at the image; as he did so, his entire body went still as if he'd even forgotten to breathe. Suddenly time was not moving, and he felt that every second was stretching into eternity even as he could still hear the others laughing in the background. He blinked once in surprise, because somehow he'd gotten to his feet but had no memory of doing so.

Order 66. His fingers were trembling. Absently, he glanced down and realized that they were resting on the hilts of each blaster with practiced ease, so he very deliberately deactivated the transmission and hooked his thumbs in his belt, gripping the material harder than he should have. Rex took one deep breath, then another.

The soldier in him understood what he was supposed to do, but the man he'd become found the idea to be unthinkable, especially in light of everything else that he'd experienced.

Rex had no idea if the Jedi Order was truly forming a rebellion against the Republic; he had no idea if they were dangerous as a whole, of if things like brutality and greed were relegated to a few individuals, but he thought that the latter was most likely. Jedi could make mistakes, could be distracted as surely as any non-Jedi. They were mortal: they could be right or wrong, they could be cruel or kind, they could love or hate.

The one thing that he was certain of was that the only Jedi nearby was innocent of any wrongdoing. As surely as he was a Human man who could make his own choices, Ahsoka was his friend and confidante, and he knew that could not gun her down in cold blood.

A similar chirrup nearby alerted him to the fact that Fives was receiving the same message, and he tensed again as he turned to look at the ARC. The others still appeared to take no notice, so Rex leaned over to his brother as the other clone activated the message, watching as his eyes widened and his fingers trembled. Rex put a hand on his gauntlet, obscuring the holo. “You're not doing it.”

“Of course not,” Fives replied with a frown. “But...”

Before he could continue, Ahsoka put her comlink away and turned to the clones, who were still laughing happily. A quick mental calculation told Rex that the contingency order would be trickling to them within a few moments – a fail-safe set in place should an officer not be in the position to transmit the message himself – and he didn't want to take any action until he was sure how they would react.

He didn't have to wait long to find out.

The others' comms began to flash and they looked down at their wrists in surprise, for such a transmission was unexpected right now, with the war “over” and everything. Kix reacted first, activating the message to voice-only and listening with a frown to the order that none of them had heard before, but were all familiar with by virtue of the Kaminoans and their painfully thorough training.

But suddenly Rex didn't care about any of that, because a strangled sort of gasp erupted from Ahsoka and she dropped to her knees, her hands clutching at her montrals and her eyes squeezing shut as if trying to block out all external stimuli.

Rex was kneeling at her side in an instant, placing a hand on her shoulder and repeating her name. In response, she gave a wordless groan and he watched with grim fear as she started to hyperventilate; Rex had only the vaguest idea of how the Force worked, but he knew that Jedi could sense one another's emotions and thoughts sometimes, and if that was the case, Ahsoka was likely being assaulted by the feelings of the deaths of countless other Jedi.

Although Rex had chosen to disobey the order, he was certain that he was in the minority.

Had there been any doubt in his mind that he'd made the wrong decision it dissipated in an instant. As she was, doubled over and almost prone against the floor of the barracks, Ahsoka was helpless against what he imagined to be a crippling onslaught of pain and terror in the Force. She was his friend, she was an innocent, and the soldier within him recognized it as his duty to protect her in any way that he could; had she been Anakin, or Kenobi, or anyone that he'd worked so closely with, his choice would have been the same.

The thought struck him that this would involve getting her out of the barracks and off-planet, and even as his mind raced ahead to think of something, another, darker thought followed swift on the heels of the first.

Rex was pummeled by the understanding that if he did this, if he committed what would surely be labeled as treason and sacrificed his own well-being for that of his friend's, he had no way of knowing when he'd see the woman he loved again, if he ever would.

Brenna, he thought, his eyes closing for one moment as his entire body swelled with regret too big to contain within one heart. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.

But even as despair rested heavy on his shoulders and wrapped around his heart, Brenna's voice slipped into his thoughts. “We take chances every day – some of us more than others, yes – but still...life is one big gamble.”

Nothing was certain, nothing was cast in immutable stone. Rex was alive, which meant there was hope, and for that he had to be grateful. For that, he had to persevere, even though he didn't want to think about odds right now, stacked as they were against him.

It was his life; it was his choice, and he'd made it.

“Captain?” Kix's voice was soft; Rex looked up and saw that his brothers were standing around him as if waiting to see what he would do before they acted. Fives stood beside him and Ahsoka, almost between them and the rest, his expression guarded.

“What's it going to be, lads?” Rex heard himself say, slowly rising from his crouch beside the Padawan to meet their eyes, one after another. Beneath his armored chest, his heart was beating rather quickly and as he waited for their responses, Rex took another steadying breath to slow the encroaching rush of adrenaline. It was still quiet in the barracks; he wondered how long that would last.

Jesse frowned down at his hand, which held the power-pack to his deece, resting on a nearby crate within an arm's reach. With a trembling motion, he set the pack down upon the table and met his captain's eyes. “I think we've all learned that some orders aren't meant to be followed, Rex.”

Beside him, Tup and Kix nodded in agreement, and as he watched them distance themselves from their weapons with varying degrees of difficulty, Rex felt his shoulders relax a fraction.

A soft noise from Ahsoka caught his attention, and when he glanced back at her his heart tightened with pity. His friend looked pale and completely terrified, but he could see that she was attempting to pull herself together even as she murmured something incoherent, then shuddered; her breathing was shallow but growing steadier and she was clenching her jaw, all of which he recognized as signs of someone who was fighting for control.

“Ahsoka, a contingency order has been sent out to all clone troopers, ordering the deaths of the Jedi,” he said, kneeling back beside her and touching her shoulder again, hoping to help draw her out of her frightened stupor. “But we're going to get you to safety.”

At his words her eyes grew even larger but she still seemed incapable of speech. Behind him, Tup cleared his throat. “The order states that the Jedi are rebelling against the Republic...that's not true, right Commander?”

“No, Tup,” Ahsoka managed to reply at last, blinking rapidly and shaking her head. “We...we fought beside you for three years...how could we...why would...?”

The younger clone's head bowed and he nodded as he replied. There was trepidation in his voice, but Rex couldn't fault the younger clone for his moment of doubt. “I know, Commander...I was just...”

“There's no time for this,” Fives said suddenly. “We need to figure out our next step.”

Ahsoka's breath hitched as if she was about to start crying, but she worked through it and managed to speak. “Lux,” she said after a moment, holding out her comlink in a shaking hand. “He's...here...”

It was the comlink that Brenna had provided, forever ago, and Rex bit back another swell of regret as he took the device, though it was mitigated by the fact that he remembered that any transmissions made from the comlink couldn't be traced. Around them, the others exchanged bewildered glances, but Rex took the comlink and activated the code that would call the point to which the last transmission was made.

As he waited for the link he nodded to Tup. “Get by the exit and keep a lookout. Under no circumstances can anyone else come in here.”

The younger clone darted off; while Rex waited – was the comm was taking too long, or was it just his agitation making it seem so? – he watched as Kix knelt by Ahsoka and offered a hypo. “It'll calm you down a bit, sir,” the medic said in a gentle voice. Her dark lips pursed but she nodded, and after the soft hiss of the spray filled the room he spoke again. “Not too much, but enough to let you think clearly, right now.”

The link to Bonteri caught, then immediately died. Rex gritted his teeth and tried again, pushing back the increasing knot of terror that was expanding within him with each moment. Jesse and Fives had taken up guard by the door as well, with Tup on the outside; Kix was helping Ahsoka to her feet.

Finally, finally, the link went through and the image of a young man bloomed before Rex; Lux Bonteri had the bearing of someone who was born to better circumstances than those in which he found himself, but his eyes were filled with fear. They narrowed when Rex appeared, and his tone was wary.

“Who are you?”

“A friend of Ahsoka's,” Rex replied in a swift voice.

Before he could say anything further, Lux Bonteri continued, clearly a hairsbreadth away from panic. “Is she hurt? What's going on? There's reports of a Jedi uprising...are you-”

“She's fine,” Rex broke in. “But she needs help. Do you have a way off-planet?” Coruscant wasn't safe – he didn't even want to think about the Jedi Temple – and he wondered if anywhere in the galaxy would be truly safe for her, now.

To his credit, Bonteri responded immediately and with surety. “I do, but I'm reluctant to leave my ship unattended – there's been rumors of a planet-wide lockdown on space travel. If I have her with me, though, I'll see that she gets to safety. Can you get her to the Eastport Docking Facility? I'm in Section 75, Bay 67.”

“That's not far,” Kix murmured. “I think we can manage it.”

Rex's mind began working over the route; no, it wasn't far but nor was it as close as he would like. It was not an impossible task, but he had no idea how they would get her there intact.

“Lux,” Ahsoka's voice broke Rex out of his thoughts and caused him to look over as she reached out to pluck the comlink from his hand. The blue wash of the holo shaded her face in an otherworldly glow, and despite the fact that he knew her for a warrior, in that moment she looked hopelessly fragile. “We'll be there soon.”

Bonteri's eyes widened once she appeared in his field of vision, but the fear fled from his voice when he spoke again, as if seeing her alive, as if knowing that she was okay gave him the strength he needed to keep going. “Okay, 'Soka,” he said with a nod. “I'll be here. I...love you. Be careful, okay?”

Her mouth slipped into an odd, half-smile that Rex wondered if she'd picked up from him. “Be careful yourself, Lux. I love you, too.”

When the transmission ended, she took a deep, shaking breath, then looked up at Rex. “What about you guys?”

Devoid of the comlink, Rex's hands had dropped to tight fists at his sides as a memory of Umbara crept through his mind again, in the form of Krell's voice. “So...it's treason, then?”

Yes, it was treason, it was desertion, but it was also the right thing to do. Rex released a breath, loosened his hands and shook the memory away as he reoriented his attention back on his friend. As much as he wanted to tell Ahsoka not to worry about him, he knew that he and the others needed a contingency plan of their own if they were to escape this night unharmed, and if he was going to be able to reach Brenna.

Perhaps sensing his turmoil, Ahsoka put a hand on his gauntlet. “Come with us,” she whispered, glancing around at the others, all of whom were listening. “We'll give you a ride anywhere...like Alderaan,” she added, giving Rex a meaningful look.

Behind them, Fives cleared his throat. “I've got a ride, actually,” he said, a faintly sheepish smile on his face. At Rex's lifted brow he clarified. “Marliss and I...she's...we're...” His face reddened and he shifted his feet. “We were planning to go traveling for a while. Together.”

Rex felt his eyes widen and Fives grimaced as he added: “It was going to be a surprise.”

“Can she get away, now?” Ahsoka said, skipping past the inevitable questions. At Fives' nod, she took another breath and looked at Rex. “Arrest me.”

“What?” Jesse's voice was stunned, the sentiment echoed by Tup and Kix, but Rex was quiet, waiting. In his experience, the fact that a Jedi's plans seemed outlandish did not mean that they were without rationality. Usually.

“None of us are going to blend in right now,” she pointed out, indicating the clones' armor. “And it's so...” Her face contorted, the mask of calm slipping away for one instant to reveal how stricken she was, then she smoothed it back. “It's chaotic out there. We might have a chance to disappear in plain sight.”

As much as Rex didn't want to admit it, she was right; with the Jedi declared as enemies, it was likely that no one would think to question one of them in the hands of a group of clone troopers.

It was a huge risk, to be sure, but he didn't think they had many other options, and Rex was acutely aware of the seconds that were ticking by in his head. He inhaled and thought of Alderaan. Maybe it would work out, after all. The hope was enough to calm him down so that he could put one thought in front of the other and find his composure.

“Okay,” he said with a curt nod. “Here's the plan...”

*​

Rex: What's going on? I heard a rumor on the HoloNet that the Jedi have rebelled...but no one seems to know what's really going on. There's even talk of clones marching on the Temple on Coruscant, but I can't tell if Torrent is part of that group or not.

Most comm transmissions seem to be down, at least the ones going to Corrie, so I don't even know if you're getting these, but I hope so. Please let me know as soon as you can. I'm worried about you.

*****​

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A/N: Gah, I know. Another cliffhanger! I promise, I'm not doing it to torture you needlessly, but we are approaching the gripping climax of the story. ​

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So, this fic is definitely an AU; it was written before TCW's fifth season. ​

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Thanks for reading!​

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Next time: Rex's plan in action. ​

 

Bravo! Happy that all have a plan of somewhere to get to safety. Fives & Marliss - I am very happy for Ahsoka and Lux - it would be awful if she had to go through all the turmoil and loss without someone to empathize. And yes, Rex definitely has a place he needs to get to.

 

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@Nyota's Heart: Yay! I'm glad you liked the bit of Ahsoka/Lux. I'm not a hardcore shipper, but I do like them together. Thanks for the comment! ​

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*****​

Chapter Thirty-Eight​

While Rex normally insisted on leading the way, he was unwilling to leave Ahsoka's side until he knew she was safe, so he'd instructed Fives and Jesse to take point as they moved through the barracks. Kix was on Ahsoka's other side so that it looked like she was being “escorted” by the soldiers, while Tup was at their rear. Someone – he didn't remember who – had called Coric but hadn't gotten a response other than “we're fine,” a fact that gnawed at him, but right now it was too dangerous to transmit anything more over the clones' comm channels, no matter how badly he wanted to know more.

But that couldn't be helped at the moment. Rex and his brothers had chosen a course of action and had to follow through.

The barracks were teeming with clones, mostly 501st, though Rex recognized several Coruscant Guards and a few from other legions as well, many of whom were Spaartis. Luck was with them; through the combined efforts of Ahsoka's senses and his brothers' adroit stealth abilities, the group managed to reach one of the rear exits to the barracks unmolested.

However, as they slipped out into the night, into air that should have been cool but wasn't for some reason, Rex heard the approaching slam of booted feet; he held up his hand in the signal to pause, and as he, Ahsoka and his brothers stood within the shadow of the building that housed the barracks, they watched as a squad of Spaartis came around the corner of the building, their pure-white armor glinting beneath a nearby street-light.

Kriff.

For one moment, the two groups faced each other. From his place in the shadows, a perfunctory examination told Rex that these men were shinies – as were most Spaartis – but he had no idea to which legion they belonged. There were five of them, and they fanned out before Rex and his brothers, raising their deeces and fixing the muzzles towards the Padawan, who was still quite noticeable, even surrounded by darkness.

“Orders are all Jedi are to be shot on sight,” one of the Spaartis said in a clipped voice. “What are you lot waiting for?”

Since he'd been in the lead, Fives stepped forward in such a way that his kama swayed at his hips in an authoritative manner. “We've orders from command, trooper. This Jedi has an appointment with a firing squad.”

“That sounds like a load of barve,” another Spaarti replied. “What're you really doing with this Jedi filth, ARC-boy? Off to have a bit of fun before you blast her?”

At the clone's words, Rex felt anger rise like bile in his throat. Beside him, Ahsoka trembled, but kept her gaze level. In response to the Spaarti, the ARC gave a snort that should have been all irreverence, but it was undermined by the waver in his voice. “I told you, trooper: orders from command. Now move along.”

The Spaartis did not lower their weapons.

Kriff, kriff, kriff....

Taking a breath, Rex moved from Ahsoka's side and made his way out of the shadows to the front of the group, noting how Kix shifted just a little closer to offer her support in his absence.

For one moment he stood facing the shinies, leveling the gaze of his distinctive jaig-eyed helmet upon them as he considered his words. In the back of his mind he'd hoped to escape the area without detection, but that hope seemed to be silly, now. Additionally, he and the others had already committed treason by leaving with Ahsoka; it was likely they would be wanted men, no matter what. Now, he thought, it was better to use his reputation for a final bit of good, instead of making a futile attempt to slink along the shadows unnoticed.

“Do you know who I am?” he growled at last, taking satisfaction in the way that the Spaartis each took a step back as he angled himself beneath the street-light, letting them get a good look at his armor. They nodded almost in unison, and he heard someone whisper his name and rank. “Then you can believe me when I say that we've received our orders and are acting accordingly.”

The Spaarti closest to him lifted a shaking hand in a salute. “Sir, yes sir. We were just-”

“I don't give a kriff what you were doing, soldier,” Rex replied. “Now, I recommend that you find someplace else to be...unless you'd like me to report exactly which squad detained me from carrying out my duty with this Jedi.”

Any other place, any other time, and he might have been able to find amusement in the way that the Spaartis scrambled around each other to get out of his way. Once they were out of sight, he returned to his place beside Ahsoka and spoke softly to the others. “Let's move out.”

Coruscant was never quiet, and this night looked to be no exception. All around them were shouts and sirens, as if the citizens and not the Jedi were rebelling, and as the clones and Ahsoka moved through the city, Rex marked how the place seemed to be teeming with fear. Perhaps the fear was the remnant of the battle that had taken place in the city not long ago, but to Rex it felt darker and more sinister, somehow.

The thought crossed his mind that he could ask Ahsoka, but he didn't want to trouble her right now, because of the smoke.

It was from the Jedi Temple, and it filled the air with a bitter, acrid taste that stuffed up his nose even through the filters of his bucket. It choked. Blinded. Above their heads the sky was glowing as if the entire world was on fire. Beside him, walking with halting steps, Ahsoka was crying silently, her eyes squeezed shut as Rex guided her “bound” hands along, urging her forward because it was his only purpose in this moment. As much as he wanted to offer her consolation, he knew it would be a lie.

All of the clones had turned in their helmets to the 501st channel, because Rex wanted to know what was going on, and right now he wished he didn't.

The 501st had marched on the Jedi Temple and was attempting to burn it to the ground. He also heard what must have been a wild, crazy rumor that a Jedi was leading them, but hadn't caught the name, and in truth was too worried about Ahsoka and his brothers to care much about the unnamed Force-user.

It probably wasn't true, anyway.

Streetlights flickered above them as they made their way out of the barracks and towards the general direction of a nearby landing platform, where GAR-issued vehicles were kept. There were a few free right now, and Jesse had been confident that he could slice into one and requisition it for their use; he just needed a few minutes. So far, they'd been lucky, as there was no one around who would stop them. Since that first group, they'd seen few other clones, none of whom gave a second look to a group of their brothers escorting a traitorous Jedi, hopefully to her death.

No, Rex thought with a grimace. Not their brothers. Mine. His only true brothers – save Coric – were with him, now. There were a few others, scattered across the galaxy, but it was useless to dwell on them at the moment. They stopped at the nearest speeder, the only one large enough to accommodate their group, and Jesse slid into the driver's seat, the others glancing around warily. Rex prayed that his luck – if that's what it really was – would hold just a bit longer.

While they waited for Jesse, Ahsoka leaned against him, trembling, and he thought that he should try and comm Brenna since it looked like he had a spare moment. Sheathing his blaster, Rex removed his comlink from his belt and glanced through the messages; there was a recent one from her that he hadn't yet seen, so he quickly tapped out a reply, hoping to at least let her know he was alive.

However, it was kicked back to him with an error code. He tried again; same result. Another scan of her message indicated that transmissions to and from Corrie were being locked, and he gritted his teeth. No, no, no...

“Yes,” Jesse hissed, causing him to look up at the speeder. “Got it.”

Rex exhaled and stowed his comlink. “Everyone inside,” he said, nodding to himself as his brothers and Ahsoka began to clamber in the vehicle, Kix helping the Jedi steady herself with her bound hands. Another glance around; they were still in the clear. “Fives, have you been able to contact Marliss? Transmissions to and from Corrie aren't working...”

“She's going to meet us,” the ARC replied as he slid beside Jesse. Rex came in last, his blaster in his hand again. Fives' voice was wry. “Said something about making off with a ship...that woman is crazy as me, and I love it.”

There was something more than admiration in Fives' words, but Rex couldn't think about that, now. “Punch it, Jess,” he said as the speeder roared to life. “Let's get the kriff out of here.”

*​

Rex: Managed to slice into a GAR channel, at last. Torrent wasn't on the list of groups that went to the Temple, but I still don't know what's going on. Are you okay? If you get this, just send a reply – any reply – and let me know you're alive.

*​

Rex didn't know what was going on with the Force, but he thought that luck was with them, at least for the moment. Once they'd approached the Eastport Docking Facility, Ahsoka had tucked herself at Rex and Kix's feet on the floor of the speeder so that she'd be out of immediate sight. It was a sloppy ruse but it seemed to have worked, as no one had stopped them from entering the EDF.

In addition to the general sense of chaos through the entire city, there was some kind of ruckus at the main entrance with a bunch of frightened civilians, which had taken up the security droids' attentions; as the clones and the Jedi searched for Hangar 75, Jesse moved the speeder at a painfully steady pace in order not to draw unnecessary attention.

Finally, finally they found the right hangar; from there, it was only a few more minutes until Bay 67 came into view. This was one of the more industrial, lower-end sections of the facility, made for ships clearly bigger than the one residing in this bay; above their heads, high ceilings were criss-crossed with massive, supporting beams of durasteel, creating a cavernous feel to the space.

The moment that the clones' speeder slowed before the elongated freighter that was resting inside, a young, dark-haired man approached. A blaster was in his hand and his eyes were wary...until they fell on Ahsoka, peering up at him from the floor of the speeder.

“Go around behind the engines,” Bonteri murmured to Jesse, but his eyes were on the Padawan. “The security cams don't reach there.”

During the journey, Ahsoka had maintained her composure but Rex could see that she was reaching her breaking point, and it took himself and Kix to help her out of the speeder. Once she was on her feet, she all but fell into the young man's arms, and the clones glanced away to give them a moment of privacy. As he did so, Rex tried not to think how much he missed Brenna, and fought back his impatience to be gone from this world.

“You're sooner than I thought,” Bonteri was saying to her as he indicated the ship. “Normally the engines need another minute or so to warm up, but maybe luck will be with us and they'll be ready. I'm going to go check; I'll be right back.”

While the young man disappeared into the ship, Rex and the others stood guard. Just as he was going to tell her to get on board as well, he saw Ahsoka giving him what was probably the only smile that she could manage at the moment.

“Thank you, Rexter.” Before he could shrug off her words, she added in a quiet voice: “I owe you my life – again, I guess.”

“I'll add it to the tab,” he replied. When she chuckled, a part of him was pleased that he could make her laugh, even now.

Bonteri emerged from the ship and was beside her in the next instant, his arm around her waist to offer support. “We're in luck: the ship's prepped,” he said with a nod. “And I've bribed the Harbormaster to let us leave at once...”

Rex didn't hear the rest of Bonteri's words, because all of a sudden his own battle-instincts had started screaming danger, and the captain felt his body tense involuntarily. The others did as well, then Fives cursed as they heard the sound of booted feet that was followed by the wail of an alarm. “Blasted security tinnies at the entrance must have caught sight of her, somehow,” the ARC muttered, glancing around.

Bonteri's face clouded but Rex shook his head and indicated the ship. “Get her out of here,” he said as he reached for his pistols. “We'll cover you.”

Nodding, the young man moved to draw her away, but Ahsoka shook her head. “Rex...all of you...come with us!”

“There's no time,” he said, meeting her eyes and noting that she was crying again but there was nothing for it; the alarm had drowned out the sounds of the approaching soldiers, but Rex knew that they were close by, and that Bonteri's ship would need cover from the inevitable blaster-fire so that it could take off unhindered.

Rex knew that his last mission wouldn't be successful until Ahsoka was away and safe. When he spoke again, he pitched his voice low and gentle. “Take care of yourself, little 'un.”

“If you need anything, ever,” she replied thickly. “I'm here, okay?”

He nodded. “Go.”

She went.

As the freighter – a dingy, out-of-date piece of junk if there ever was one – lifted off and made for the sky, the bay around Rex and his brothers exploded with clones in unblemished armor that Rex had come to associate with the Spaarti clones in general, as he had no way of knowing to which unit these soldiers belonged. At once, the men from Torrent stood back-to-back, blasters raised against the newcomers.

“Traitors,” the closest Spaarti hissed; there was a mark on his armor that indicated he was a Lieutenant and the highest ranking member of the group. “The guys at the barracks were right...get your hands up, you lot,” he added with a growl. “We'll show you what happens to clones who abandon their posts.”

Beside him, Rex could feel Tup quivering with nerves, so he silently urged the younger man to be calm. In the back of Rex's mind he noted with relief that Bonteri had pushed his ship to hyperspace, the bright spot winking out of the sky like a star gone dark.

The Spaarti Lieutenant leveled his T-visor on Rex, and his voice held nothing familiar. “You're under arrest.”

Before Rex could respond, Tup gave a wordless shout that was pure frustration, lifted his blaster and fired on the ceiling high above their heads. Immediately, one of the Spaartis opened fire on the young man, and Tup let out a yelp of pain even as he stumbled into Jesse's back. But before any of the clones could react further, a horrific groaning sound came from above, and they all looked up to see portions of the supporting beams wrench loose from the ceiling and plummet towards the duracrete floor.

Chaos broke out as everyone moved to dodge the falling beams, though the Spaartis also started to hurl blaster-fire at the “traitors.” Rex and his brothers were able to find cover beside an unattended ship, but not before Kix took a shot in the shoulder as he was trying to see to Tup. The hangar was suddenly a blur of blue, streaking plasma, and even as Rex felled several of the Spaartis, he grimaced beneath his bucket at the fact that it had come to this. Clone against clone.

“Any stunning, last-minute plans, Rex?” Fives shouted, ducking his head before arching around the landing struts of the ship to lob fire at the Spaartis. “If we can get away, I can get us to Marliss' location.”

Rex took stock of their situation: any path out of the hangar was blocked by the Spaarti clones; the ship they were using for cover appeared to be in a state of utter disrepair – the engine was in pieces on the ground behind them – should they have even found an opportunity to board, the vessel was probably unusable. He figured that the Spaartis had already called for reinforcements – not that anyone would need to be told something was wrong, what with the sounds of the alarm and the firefight echoing all around them. The sky that he could see through the hangar opening was still smokey and glowing.

Alderaan waited for him but he had a sinking feeling that it would be a long wait. “I don't...”

“Leave it, Kix, I'm fine!” Tup was shouting as he struggled to his feet, using the ship to brace himself as bolts of plasma ricocheted around them. “Take care of yourself, for once!”

With that, the younger clone pulled a thermal det from his belt and hurled it at the Spaartis; Rex and his brothers, their reactions honed from countless battles, ducked instinctively even as the closest of the Spaartis were consumed by the explosion. The resulting boom shook the entire place, causing another two beams to thunder down from the ceiling, knocking a few more of the Spaartis to the floor and disorienting the rest, the ones who'd not been taken out by the det.

Within the chaos, a window opened, a break in the Spaartis that led towards a shadowed exit to the hangar. Rex knew that the Spaarti clones' strength was in their numbers, and already he could hear the reinforcements coming, but if he and his brothers went now, they had a chance.

“Move out,” he shouted. “Now!”

As one, he and his brothers rushed the Spaartis – Rex found himself supporting Kix, whose movements were halting – and as they ran, he thought for one wild moment that yes, they were going to manage this. They were going to make it...

Someone fired a quick burst of plasma, and Tup yelped again, then stumbled once before whirling to levy more fire upon the Spaartis. Rex saw at once that his brother would not survive if left on his own. He shoved Kix ahead of himself to the exit, mentally apologizing to the medic for the rough treatment, then rushed back to Tup's side, just in time to see his younger brother's body become riddled with blaster-bolts and watch him collapse to the floor, unmoving.

There was a shout, maybe from his own throat. The darkness of the hangar was all around, the smoke from the city coiled between his legs and obscured everything into a waking nightmare. Tup was not moving. Fives was shouting at him, come on, Rex!

But Rex was firing at the Spaartis who were surrounding around him, cutting him off from the exit; it wasn't real, it was a dream, and any moment he would wake up to Brenna's smile. In the back of his mind he was aware that Jesse had come to stand beside him, saw Fives and Kix slip into the shadows of the hangar, the ARC supporting the medic.

It wasn't until he felt the bite of a blaster at his chest that he was able to shake himself out of the nightmare, because he had no wish to die this way...but no, he was only stunned. For what reason, he didn't know, but in the last moments of his consciousness Rex removed his comlink, the one that Brenna had given him so long ago, and called Fives' name as he tossed it to the shadows.

The last thing he remembered, the last thing that he heard before the dark heaviness of the stunning bolt took him over, was the sound of booted feet closing in around himself and Jesse.

*​

Rex, what's going on? Are you safe?

Are you there?

Rex...please be okay. I love you.

*****​

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A/N: Hangar 75, Bay 67. Slight easter egg hidden there. ​

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Yes, another cliffhanger. Stick around! The story's nearly over. There are 44 chapters total, so we're closing in on the end. Take heart, though; the sequel, Worth Fighting For, will go up once this is done. ​

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Next time: Brenna's getting worried.​

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Thanks for reading! ​

 

Whew! Glad Ahsoka got away but Got me on the edge of my seat! For sure!

 

@Nyota's Heart: Sorry I couldn't update sooner! Darth Real Life has been monopolizing my time this week. Thanks for the comment! ​

*****​

Chapter Thirty-Nine​

Just like every other time he set foot on this world, Umbara was in chaos.

When Rex opened his eyes, all he could see was darkness and for one frantic moment he thought he'd gone blind; then a few wild blaster-bolts streaked across his field of vision, which assured him that he could see while also alerting him to the battle that was taking place nearby. A beat later and he could hear them, his brothers.

They were still fighting.

There was a hillock to his right, covered with bioluminescent plants – the kind with glowing, red tips whose name he'd deliberately forgotten – and he scaled it in an instant to get a better look at what was happening.

It was the worst battle he'd seen, yet. Brothers were fighting brothers, and he could see countless men in white, unblemished armor knocked to the ground, hidden by the Umbaran mist. The clones sent shots of plasma to one another as fast as they could, heedless – did they really not see? Did they not care? – of the tanks that were slithering between them, blaster-fire bouncing off of armored casing. Something small hurled above his head; his body ducked and rolled down from the hillock to avoid the thermal det before his brain registered what was happening.

The det landed and belched crimson and saffron flame. Troopers fell, screaming. Rex felt the heat from the blast on his face and realized that his helmet was gone; his hands were weighted and useless, but his legs could work, so he ran. As he'd done before, he tried to shout at them, tried to get them to stop shooting, but no one listened. No one paid him any mind. No one cared. Something struck his shoulder, but it was mild, barely a cuff.

That was when he heard a child crying.

No, he thought as dread clutched at his heart. It's impossible...

Rex ducked for shelter behind another plant so that he could scan the area; when all he could make out was kriffing darkness, he allowed himself to miss the night-vision of his HUD. For a few frantic minutes he couldn't see anything but clones and Umbarans – and blaster-bolts – when suddenly he spotted her, and his stomach dropped to his knees.

Brenna was crouched before a fallen tank, her posture indicating that she was shielding someone much smaller behind her back. Although he couldn't make out her expression from this distance, he recalled how terrified she'd been during the skirmish on Ithor, and he knew that this would be exponentially worse. Rex knew that he had to protect her, had to protect her daughter. Somehow.

Maybe he was lucky, even in his nightmares, because he made it to her side after only a few minutes of dodging blaster-fire and trying to get his hands to work properly; they felt stuck together, almost as if he was bound...

“Brenna,” he called when he was only meters away. “Bren...get down!”

“Rex!” Her eyes were wide with fear; she was clutching a fallen trooper's deece with trembling hands – he should have prepared her, better – and behind her, he caught a glimpse of fair hair and heard Iri's continuing cries. “Rex,” she said again as he approached. “Rex...please help us.”

“Get behind me,” he ordered, using both hands to remove the blaster from her grip, as his pistols were gone along with his bucket. Thankfully, this weapon was fully charged. Brenna ducked and crouched behind his legs; he could hear her speaking to Iri, trying to soothe the child who was still screaming with terror. “Stay down,” he said, trying to keep his voice calm as if it would help. “I'll keep you both safe. I promise.”

All around them was chaos and darkness. Brothers died; brothers killed. The grinding, groaning tanks ripped through the lines of clones, angling to cause as much destruction as possible, and Rex knew that he was all that stood between Brenna, Irini and certain death. Still heedless of the Umbarans' attack, fellow clones lurched for him, and he was forced to fire back, warning shots at first, then at legs and arms when they refused to keep away from the woman he loved and her innocent child.

He didn't want to hurt them, but he had no choice when they attacked what he held dear.

At one point he thought about reaching for his comlink, wondering if someone could help, but he couldn't risk lowering his weapon at the moment, as his hands were still strangely tied to each other's movements. That wouldn't do...maybe Brenna had a comlink on her person?

During a break in the fire, Rex turned to ask her; as their eyes met, he felt a searing pain in his back and the next thing he knew, he was falling.

Rex's head slammed on the ground with enough force to send him back into the darkness.

*​

Brenna was starting to go a little bit mad with worry. There had been no new news of any kind for hours, and everything she could churn up on the HoloNet and on the GAR channels was useless drivel – nonsense about bolo-ball matches and troop movements – nothing about what was happening on Coruscant right now. Nothing about the clones, nothing about the Jedi.

Rex hadn't replied to any of her messages; she had no way of knowing if he'd even gotten them, or if he had but was unable to reply for some reason, and she'd been checking her comlink almost every ten seconds. She didn't know if he was alive, if he was injured, if he was lost. He could be dead and she would have no idea.

Iri had been put to bed hours ago in the room that her daughter shared with Tavi, Caith's son; the only good thing about the events that were unfolding was that they'd begun after the children's bedtime, so Iri likely had no idea that her mother was beside herself.

There was a gnawing roil within her gut, a restlessness that would not fade, and Brenna was torn between pacing through Caith and Edme's kitchen and curling up in a corner to cry. She compromised by sitting at the kitchen table, her knees bouncing as she drummed her fingers on the table-top and alternated her glares between her datapad and her comlink.

“Bren.” Caith's voice was gentle; looking up, she saw him extend a cup of steaming tea that they both knew she'd have no taste for. Still, it was a thoughtful gesture, and she thanked him as she took the mug from his hand.

He moved to Edme next, handing her a mug as well; she was seated across from Brenna, fiddling with the hyper-radio that resided in the kitchen. There was no news of any kind, at least to Brenna's way of thinking, but she appreciated the fact that her sister-in-law was routinely checking every channel. “Still nothing, I'm afraid,” Edme said, confirming what Brenna already knew. “I'm sorry, Bren.”

Brenna shook her head but didn't quite trust her voice. A glance out of the kitchen windows showed nothing but darkness, and she tried not to think that he might be dead. Should she have left the Resolute so quickly? Maybe she should have tried to convince Tucker to see reason over the comm, or even asked him to come back to the ship so they could speak in person, there. While she treasured every moment with her daughter, a part of Brenna was convinced that things were not supposed to be this way.

Something small and scared and bitter whispered in her mind: if you had stayed, you could have convinced him to leave with you, later.

Perhaps that was true, perhaps not. In her heart of hearts, she knew that Rex's devotion to his brothers was stalwart, and she did not want to make him choose between herself and them. She did not want to cause him pain, but ease what pain he carried with him, already. He'd done as much for her; he'd not tried to convince her to stay when she felt her daughter's safety was at risk.

Rex, she thought, squeezing her eyes shut and wishing that she was a Jedi; perhaps if she was, she could speak to him across the stars and have him hear her words. Rex...I love you. Please be safe. Please...

“Brenna...your comlink!”

Her eyes snapped open at the buzzing sound that vibrated against the kitchen table; moving so fast that her hands were fumbling, Brenna grabbed the device and activated it, noting that the transmission was voice-only. “Rex!”

It was a clone's voice, but she would have known at once that it was not the man she loved, even had the caller not given his name. “It's Fives.”

Something inside her chest – possibly her heart – began to fracture. No. No, no, no...

She cleared her throat. “Fives-”

“I'm with Kix and Marliss,” he said. “We're leaving Corrie, making for Anaxes. Last I saw, Rex was alive on Coruscant-” Her heart leaped at his words, but he continued, speaking low and quickly. “But Brenna...he was being arrested.”

Her hand flew to her mouth to hold back her sob. Fives waited a beat, then continued. “We received an order to...well, it's not important right now, but it was unthinkable, so we – myself, Rex, Kix, Tup and Jesse – deserted. Blasted Spaartis caught us trying to get off-planet. They got Rex and Jess; Kix and I managed to get away; I would have stayed, but Kix was hurt pretty bad and needed attention. That was about half an hour ago. Right before they took him away, Rex dropped his comlink, I guess so I could call you. ”

He was alive, or had been as recently as thirty minutes ago. She could breathe. She could speak. “Thank you.”

Fives snorted. “Don't thank me, Bren. I should have stayed...” His voice faded for a moment, then returned, albeit with a waver. “Thanks to your lovely and talented former-roommate, we have a nice little ship and we're not being tracked.”

“I have to help him,” she said without thinking over the words, nor the way that Caith and Edme looked up in alarm as she spoke. “I have to get him out of there, somehow...”

However, they needn't have worried. Fives' reply was immediate and firm. “I'm trying to figure that out, Brenna, but I'm pretty sure he'd have my head on a platter if I put you in danger.”

Brenna opened her mouth to object, then a thought struck her. It was a long-shot that had a definite potential to end badly, but she didn't think she had a wealth of options. “Fives,” she said, speaking with deliberation. “I might have an idea, but I'll have to make another call. Can I reach you again in a few minutes?”

“Yeah, we'll sit tight,” he replied in a perplexed voice. “What's your idea?”

It was stupid to shake her head over an audio transmission, but her mind was already far away, working over the nebulous beginnings of a plan. “I don't know for certain,” she said at last, ignoring Caith's narrowing eyes. I have to do this. I have to help him, if I can. “But...I will.”

“Copy that,” Fives said, his tone indicating that he was nodding. “We're standing by, awaiting your orders, Miss Damaris.”

By some miracle – perhaps due to her relief of his news – she was able to give a faint smile at his teasing words, but before she ended the call, something he'd said caught in her mind. “What about Tup? Is he with you or with Rex and Jesse?” The answering silence was filled with meaning and she sighed, all amusement fleeing with the sobering realization. “Okay. Stand by.”

When the transmission ended, she glanced up to see her brother and his wife watching her carefully. “You're safe; I modified the comlinks, so nothing can be traced to this location,” she said after taking a breath. “No one will know that anything originated from your house-”

“Bren,” Caith interrupted, his voice firm. “You can't go on a rescue mission...it's too dangerous.”

“From what I can tell, the whole Republic's being...restructured or something,” Edme added with a frown. “There's talk that the Wars are over and the Separatists are defeated, somehow. I don't really understand, but it's obvious that everything's in turmoil.”

Brenna shook her head. “I have to help Rex if I can.”

“How?” Caith replied. “Are you going to storm Coruscant, break into jail and rescue him? You're not a soldier, Brenna; I love you, but this is too much for you to handle – even with that other clone you were speaking to.”

She took a breath, working to keep her voice calm. “I know. But – like I said – I have an idea.” With that, she lifted her comlink again and – after the slightest hesitation – entered the code that she knew would reach Tucker. It took a few long moments for the link to take hold.

“Brenna.” He sounded tired, but there was no malice in his voice, only curiosity and a hint of sorrow.

Another deep breath to focus, to gain her composure. She thought of Rex and cleared her throat. “Tucker...I need your help.”

After she explained the situation, there was silence.

*****​

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A/N: Ah, the dreams are back. Not good.​

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Next time: planning the rescue! ​

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Thanks for reading! ​

 

Yay a million times for Fives Happy about he, Kix, and Marliss getting loose. Brenna is a marvel and a treasure. A sweet blend of Leia's courage and Mara's: If there's a way I'm inventing it Rex is truly and utterly blessed.

 

@Nyota's Heart: Fives is all kinds of awesome. (Hey, he's an ARC trooper; he's supposed to be! ) Glad you like Brenna. The man she loves is in trouble, and she's a force to be reckoned with when necessary. ​

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Thanks for the lovely comment! ​

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*****​

Chapter Forty​

The next time Rex's eyes opened, he was lying in grass. It feathered at the edges of his vision, tickled his cheek and his arms – for some reason he was dressed only in his body-glove – and filled his nose with its fresh, heady scent. Winking between branches and leaves, the sky above was bright blue, cloudless, and as he blinked a few times to clear his head – it felt thick and hazy as mist – he noted that he was in fact lying at the base of a massive, blurry tree.

Actually...everything was blurry.

Had something happened to his vision? He recalled a pain against the back of his head...perhaps he'd been injured...

Squinting, Rex tried to study the tree above him, tried to quantify it with other trees he'd seen in the past, but it was unique. It was messy, as if its natural lines and edges had been daubed with paint and swirled with color.

Paint...

Rex shook his head, frowning. Blurriness be damned, he needed to get to his feet – at least be upright. He had to understand where he was; the last thing he remembered, before the pain, was that he'd been protecting Brenna and Iri from a battle, but he didn't see them now and panic seized him at the realization. As he tried to sit up, he was overwhelmed by something heavy and oppressive on his chest that hindered his movements, so much so that after a struggle he realized with dismay that he could only remain lying down.

So instead of getting up, he looked around in wonder. Everything he could see was blurry, splotched with flecks of colors that were too vibrant to be real, and he was dumbfounded.

“Rex.”

Something inside of him relaxed when he felt her hand on his arm. Looking over, he exhaled in relief when he saw Brenna – clear and decidedly not blurry – kneeling beside him, an anxious look on her face. When their eyes met she smiled and most of his anxiety dissipated.

“You're awake at last,” she added, tilting her head to the side so that he could see a little blonde girl playing in the grass several meters away. “We were worried.”

The touch of her hand was warm even as he shook his head at her words, because he was okay, now. He wanted to put his hands over hers, but again they refused to move. He wanted to breathe in her scent, but all he could smell was grass, though beneath it something darker and acrid lingered. “Are you okay?”

“We're safe,” she replied with a smile, her fingers moving to touch his cheek before skimming through his cropped hair; where he normally would have shivered under her touch, there was only a faint sensation, which sent an alarm off in his mind. “Thanks to you and your brothers.”

Her words confused him, for there were no other clones around that he could see, so he tried to sit up again, to no avail. There was still a weight on his chest, on his legs, a weight that held him in place. Somehow, he knew he was dreaming. “Bren...”

Brenna's hand brushed his cheek again and the feather-lightness of her touch reiterated his realization. This moment wasn't real, this was a dream...

But suddenly he didn't care because it was likely the closest he would ever get to her again, so he leaned into her palm and savored even the barest whisper of her skin against his. “Relax,” she murmured. “It's going to be okay.”

Force, he wanted to believe her, but the fact that he couldn't get up was as alarming as the knowledge that none of this was real. Rex took a breath and met her gaze. “I'm sorry that I ruined things for us,” he managed to say, watching how her brows knitted in confusion. “We had a chance at happiness, and I ruined it, but I didn't know what else to do, how else to be.”

“Rex-”
“I failed you,” he added, wanting to close his eyes but forcing himself to look at her as he spoke. “And I'm sorry. I wish that things could have been different, somehow. I wish I could have met Iri, too.”

Brenna had been frowning at his words, but at this she actually smiled and shook her head. “It's okay, Rex,” she said, dropping her hand to his jaw, where in the past he could feel a phantom cut if he really concentrated. “I don't know about the Force, but I think that things work out as they do for a reason. You did the best that you could, as you always do. You're a good and honorable man, Rex, and I love you.”

He wanted to reach for her, put his arms around her and kiss her senseless, but his body refused to move, so he tried to be content with the memory of her touch, and the look in her eyes that was filled with love.

Perhaps she read his mind, or perhaps it was just what she wanted to do; it didn't matter either way as she bent her head to kiss him, her hair falling around his face like a curtain.

*​

“Brenna...”

“Tucker, you told me that if I needed you, you would be there.”

She was pacing on the outskirts of Caith and Edme's house, her legs churning through the tall grass that edged this section of the property. Having grown weary of sitting in the kitchen, she'd slipped out the front door to take a few gulping breaths of swift, Alderaani air and clear her head for what was to come. There was another pause where Tucker was uncharacteristically silent, so she added: “You said-”

“I know what I said,” he replied in a sharp voice. “But I didn't think you would ask me to rescue your new boyfriend.”

She wanted to reach through the comlink and throttle him, for each second that ticked by was one where Rex was in danger, and she had no time or patience for his reticence. “Please, Tucker,” she said in as calm a voice as she could manage, though she failed because her words were choked. “Please do this for me.”

Another maddening pause, then she heard him sigh. “Okay.”

Before she could speak, he continued, his tone taking on the speculative sort of distance it did when he was mulling over a new strategy. “So...you said there's an ARC trooper out there who can help? With a ship?” She answered in the affirmative, and thought she could almost hear him nodding. “Great. Those ARCs aren't quite as useless as the regular grunts...can I have his contact info?”

“I can do better than that,” she said, looking up into the night sky, imagining she could see through the stars all the way to Coruscant. “Just give me a minute.”

It wasn't the simplest thing to set up a three-way comm from three different locations and secure it from any prying ears, but she was determined; within a few minutes she had Tucker standing by while she brought Fives in again. “Okay, Fives,” she said as she waited for the connection to take so that the three parties could converse. “I have Tucker standing by.”

The ARC sounded amused. “Yeah...I had a pretty good feeling who we were going to be dealing with. It's okay, Brenna,” he added. “I'll talk real slow so he can keep up.”

“I heard that, ARC.”

Apparently the link had gone through already.

Fives gave a snort of irritation, but pushed on. “You're really willing to help us out, RC?”

“I've got some friends who're pros at this sort of thing,” Tucker replied darkly. “Just tell us when and where to show up.”

“Fives, do you know where on Coruscant Rex and Jesse are being held?” Brenna asked. As she resumed her pacing, she allowed herself a moment to marvel at the oddity of her situation: planning the jailbreak of her current lover with her ex-lover and her present lover's best friend, while none of them were on the same planet.

There was a pause, as if Fives was checking something, then he replied. “He was still wearing his armor, so I was able to trace him for a little while with the tracking chip implanted in our kits; it looks like they brought him and Jess to the RJC Detention Center – that's, Republic Judiciary Central Detention Center, commando.”

“Don't worry about me and acronyms, Fives – was it?” Tucker said in a curt voice. “Just give me intel. And make it snappy...”

“Bren,” Fives said, the stern tone of his voice causing her to inhale. “If this is going to work, we'll need some inside information. Can you manage some of that fancy slicing for us from your location?”

At the mention of the infamous Republic prison, Brenna's stomach had dropped to her knees. The RJC was known for being impossibly hard to escape from, and for a moment she was overwhelmed with the looming task that was ahead. But she shook the feeling away because it didn't matter, because it couldn't matter. Too much was at stake. She had to free Rex, so she would.

Somehow.

“Yes,” she stammered, her mind racing over the obstacles ahead. “But it may take a little time.”

“How long?” Tucker asked. “Jaing could probably manage it, too...”

Despite the fact that they couldn't see her, she shook her head as she considered. “A few hours, maybe. But depending on how encrypted their system is, I may not be able to do much more than slice in, maybe jam a few comm channels or at least distort them for a little while.”

Fives sounded thoughtful. “That would be an excellent distraction...do you really think you can manage it?”

“She can do it,” Tucker said suddenly, his voice quiet. “I know she can. She can do anything.”

There was silence for a moment, then Fives cleared his throat. “Even a few minutes would give us a window of opportunity. Once we know where he and Jess are being held, it's just a matter of getting in, getting them, and getting out. So simple, even a commando could manage.”

Another pause, though Brenna heard muffled voices as though Tucker was speaking to someone nearby. After a few minutes his voice returned. “Getting in won't be an issue, especially if Bren can distract them somehow. My friends and I will cover our entrance and exit points, but you're on your own when it comes to getting to your brothers, Fives.”

“Only Fives?” Brenna couldn't keep the alarm from her voice. “Just one man to break them out?”

“Not one man, Bren,” Fives replied. “One ARC trooper. No, Kix...you're too injured. Forget it.”

Tucker sighed, the sound distorted over the link. “Do you want me to help him out, Brenna?”

She didn't care about Fives' ego, nor did she care about Tucker's obvious reluctance; all she wanted was to see Rex and Jesse to safety, and Brenna knew at once that she would do whatever was necessary to bring about that outcome. “Yes, Tucker. Fives-”

“Yeah, yeah...” the ARC grumbled good-naturedly. “Vode an, right?”

Something like relief fluttered in her chest, and Brenna exhaled. “Give me two hours to figure something out with their comm systems. I'll set up another call with you guys when I'm ready.”

“That works for me,” Tucker replied. “It'll give me time to get my group together and hash out some of the finer points. Jaing thinks he can pinpoint where they're holding the clones.”

“Great,” Fives added. “See you soon, buddy.”

The link with Fives faded so that it was only Brenna and Tucker, and for one moment there was quiet. Finally she took a breath. “Thank you...”

“No need,” he replied in a soft voice. “I suppose it's the very least I can do, isn't it?” There was another pause, then she heard him sigh. “You love him, don't you?”

There was no hesitation, no pause to think over her reply. “I do.”

“Yeah, I figured,” he said, his tone indicating that he was shaking his head. “Look, Bren...I know that this won't make up for what I did – or what I didn't do, I guess – but you have my word that Rex will get back to you safely, okay?”

Her throat was tight and she felt the beginnings of tears pricking at her eyes. “Okay, Tucker.”

“Do me one favor, though?” He waited a beat, then sighed again. “Give our girl a kiss goodnight for me.”

“She's already sleeping, Tucker. It's practically the middle of the night, here.” Even as she said the words, she felt foolish, but he seemed not to notice or care.

“Oh. Well, it's only late afternoon on Mandalore,” he replied, a shrug in his words. When he spoke again, however, his voice was hopeful. “Tomorrow, then?”

Again, she nodded, imagining that they could see one another. “Tomorrow.”

*​

Rex hurt.

It was difficult to pinpoint exactly where, as his entire body ached and his brain felt like it was trying to bash its way out of his head, more so even than during his hangover all those months ago; behind closed lids his eyes felt gritty, and he recognized the dryness of his throat as a side-effect of sedatives. There was something hard beneath his cheek, and a moment's reflection indicated that it was duracrete. He could smell something...bad. Body odor and dirt, and something sickly that undercut everything else. He could smell blood.

This made him struggle to open his eyes; when he did, he nearly regretted it. Darkness surrounded him and it was the dimness of inside, of somewhere that had never seen the sun. For one wild moment he thought he was back aboard the Resolute, somehow.

“Rex.”

His own voice, but not. A brother...the name trickled back through through Rex's mental fog. His voice was hoarse, but it worked enough. “Jesse...are you okay?”

The longer his eyes remained open, the more they grew accustomed to the dark; within a few moments he could see his brother kneeling over a semi-prone figure resting against the wall of what appeared to be a prison-cell. Fan-kriffing-tastic.

There was a beat, then Jesse replied. “Sure. Why not?”

Rex focused on the figure stretched out before his brother, then inhaled sharply. “Coric. Is he...?”

“Very much alive,” Jesse said, glancing down at the sergeant, whose back was pressed to the wall in a half-seated position. “But he's in a bad way, I'm afraid. What do you do when the medic's the man who's injured?”

At that moment, Coric gave a soft groan. “I'm fine, trooper. Don't worry about me.”

“Sorry, sir,” Jesse replied in a remarkably mild voice as Rex sat up, the movement sending a disorienting rush of blood to his head. “Aside from that cut on his head, I don't like the look of that ankle, and while I may not know the first thing about healing, I do know that you should keep off of a sprained limb.”

He paused, then shot Rex a sardonic look as the captain staggered to his feet. “Crazy di'kut put a splint on his own leg with a spare bit of kit.”

Coric muttered something about field medicine, but Rex hardly paid tehwords any mind; instead, he approached his brothers and looked them both over carefully. Aside from a nasty gash on Coric's forehead and the fact that his left ankle was set and wrapped in what appeared to be a portion of body-glove and a thigh-plate, they were each suffering from a significant number of scrapes and bruises, though thankfully nothing worse. Each man, himself included, was dressed only in his black body-glove, their armor and weapons apparently having been confiscated by the others.

The others. Rex gave an involuntary shiver and glanced towards the door of their cell as his memory returned. “We were captured by a group of Spaartis...Fives and Kix...”

“I think they got away,” Jesse replied, and Rex felt a flare of hope at the thought that his brothers had escaped; maybe, just maybe, Fives had gotten a hold of his comlink, so at least Brenna wouldn't wonder about his fate. He wondered if Fives would attempt a rescue, but shook the thought away almost immediately: the risk was far too great, and even if the ARC trooper were to try, Rex doubted that he could manage such a feat on his own or very quickly. Given time and resources, perhaps, but Rex was well-aware that his brother had neither of those things any longer.

Jesse took another breath; his voice was quiet in the darkness. “I think we're the only men out of the whole company, even the whole legion – on-planet – who disobeyed the order...and are still alive. I've heard the guards talking over the last few hours; there may be a few in other legions who didn't, but they're not here.”

Rex wasn't sure which part of Jesse's words he found more horrific. “'Still alive?'”

It was Coric's turn to speak; as he did, he ignored Jesse's shushing. “It's true, Captain. It must be...Chopper and I were in the medbay when the order came out. Appo...he was collecting men to march on the Temple. When we wouldn't go...” He paused to cough, and something within Rex's chest tightened with apprehension. “Chopper took the shot that was meant for me,” he finished with an exhale. “I didn't see what became of him, as they threw me in here – after a little bit of roughhousing – to 'make an example' of me.”

Both Rex and Jesse were silent. Rex's mind wanted desperately to turn to his fallen brothers; however, he refused to let himself wallow until he knew more about his, Jess and Coric's current predicament, because the medic's words sent another bout of alarm flooding through him. “'An example?'”

“Appo said something about showing the others what happens when a soldier doesn't follow orders,” Coric replied in an odd and bitter voice that Rex hadn't heard. “When he disobeys a Commander's orders.”

“Commander?” Jesse asked, astonished. “They made that crazy barve a commander?”

Rex wasn't nearly as surprised. After Appo had been given more and more responsibility for the Spaarti clones that had entered the GAR, such a promotion had been a matter of time; recalling Appo's last visit with him in the medbay of the Resolute, Rex remembered that the other man had been eager for ascension through the ranks. Briefly, he wondered if Skywalker had given the promotion himself, then remembered that the young Jedi was probably dead, along with all the others.

Not all. He took a breath, expelled it to the darkness surrounding him. Not Ahsoka.

She was safe because he'd done his job as a soldier, and as a friend.

He only wished that the cost had been less.

“Any idea what's going to happen to us, now?” Jesse's voice was grim, like he already knew the answer to the question.

Coric spoke next, his words filling the musty air of the cell. “Heard one of the Spaarti guards talking about it as they brought me. It seems we're to be executed.”

“When?” Rex thought that his own voice didn't sound like his. Bren...I'm sorry.

There was no reply, until: “I don't know exactly. But I wouldn't think they'd keep us waiting very long.”

*****​

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A/N: Rex's dream in this sequence is supposed to be sort of a stunned haze, and his thoughts have turned to Alderaan. Since he's never been there, his dream-perception is heavily influenced by the pictures that Iri painted; he's hooked on her, already.

Random side-note: if you're wondering why I use "Alderaani" rather than "Alderaanian," it's because I like how the former looks and sounds, even though I think the latter is canonical. Creative license, woo!

Next time: Tucker, Bren and Fives to the rescue!


Thank you for reading.

 

Cool dream scene and strategizing. Excellent edge-of-seatness.

 

@Nyota's Heart: "Edge of seatness." Love that phrase! Thanks for the comment! ​

*****​

Chapter Forty-One​

The next day...

“What in the nine Corellian hells are they waiting for? An invitation?” Jesse grumbled as he daubed at the gash on Coric's forehead with a piece of body-glove.

Over the last day they'd used some of the water that the Spaarti guards had brought to keep the wound as clean as possible, but Rex could smell the beginnings of an infection anyway. If they had a medkit, Coric would be on the mend. Even a splash of bacta would have done some good, but there was nothing. Nothing.

They were still waiting to hear more about their upcoming execution; as of yet, there'd been no new information, none at all, and it was starting to get more than a little infuriating. Rex had always been a fan of details, and he thought that the time and date of his own death was knowledge in which he had a vested interest.

Jesse sighed and Rex heard his brother rise and approach him; they both stood at the humming energy shield of their cell for a moment before Jesse spoke again. “It's been a whole day...surely they'd have done it by now. Don't you think?”

“Perhaps there's too much going on elsewhere,” Rex replied with a frown, peering through the wavering shield. Unfortunately, it had proved to be impenetrable, and after a number of attempts to free themselves, even Rex had to admit when he was beaten. “If the rumors about the Emperor are true...”

“Yeah,” Jesse said. “I still don't know what to think about all that. The Jedi, the Republic...gone. It's unreal.”

It was, but it wasn't. Rex shook his head. “I don't know, Jess. That's the problem. Other than catching snippets of news from the guards...we don't know what's going on.”

A pause, then Jesse cleared his throat and pitched his voice low. “Do you think Fives might try to break us out?”

“Maybe,” Rex replied with a frown. “But he's one man, and...” He trailed off at the sound of the door to the cell-block opening with a hiss, and then the rhythm of booted feet approaching: there was someone coming.

It was one of the Spaartis, and Rex resolved to get some information if it fragging killed him. Standing around waiting was worse than being shot at. Much worse. “Get back to Coric,” he added, glancing at his brother. “Try to get him to drink some more water.”

With a nod, Jesse turned and slipped back into the shadows to Coric's side, leaving Rex alone in the faint glow of the energy shield. There was only one Spaarti making his way through the space with a casual gait, and Rex felt himself scowl involuntarily. One guard? Either no one cared about the three clones in this section or these boys were sloppy, and he felt indignation curl within his gut.

But he needed information, so he pushed back his derisive feelings, swallowed his pride and cleared his throat as the other man approached. “Trooper,” he said, pitching his voice just enough to rise above the humming shield. “May I speak with you for a moment?”

The Spaarti paused, his head tilting in Rex's direction like someone had called his name, but he didn't recognize the source. “Shut up, traitor.”

Rex very nearly snapped a retort at the other clone, as he hadn't been spoken to with such disrespect in a long while, but kept the instinct in check. Now was not the time. Instead, he raised his hands in a non-threatening manner and continued. “I'd just like a bit of information-”

“I said, 'shut up.'” The Spaarti approached the cell, the squat T-visor of his helmet catching the reflection of the shield and Rex, distorting the images and tossing them back to the captain's eyes.

“My brothers and I are to be executed,” Rex continued as if the Spaarti had not spoken; he'd approached the cell, which was a sign that he perhaps had some interest in talking, after all. “All I want to know is when.” If it's not too much to kriffing ask...

The Spaarti tilted his head again, and Rex wondered if he was speaking into his comm or if he was just confused. It was difficult to read the other clone's movements, despite the fact that he knew they shared the same face. Finally the Spaarti shrugged, indifferent after all. “Suppose it doesn't matter. This evening, at nineteen-hundred. Firing squad.”

With that, he turned on his heel and walked off, pausing to stand at attention by the entrance to the cell-block.

“What a jerk.” Jesse's voice reached through the cell and made Rex turn. His tattooed brother had taken a semi-defensive stance before Coric, but had straightened as the Spaarti had walked away. “He obviously didn't know who he was speaking to.”

“Maybe he did,” Rex replied with a shrug, coming to kneel beside Coric; a hand against the other clone's cheek indicated that his fever was getting worse. “I didn't exactly make an effort to hide my identity when we tried to escape. Anyway, I doubt that the esteemed title of 'Captain' applies to traitors and deserters, Jess.”

Jesse sighed and took a seat beside the sergeant, who was awake and listening to the exchange. “I guess. But he's still a jerk. Even if you're not a 'Captain,' you'll always have my respect, Rex.”

“Mine as well,” Coric added in a dim voice, his head turning to gulp down the water that Jesse was proffering.

Rex ducked his head, but couldn't find the voice to acknowledge the words. Instead he glanced between his brothers and tried not to let regret overwhelm him; they should have had more. More time, better time...not this ending. These men were not traitors any more than he himself was, but in the eyes of the law they deserved nothing for a lifetime of loyal service besides a firing squad.

A part of him, a small, angry part that he tried to ignore, bitterly told him that he should have left with Brenna when he had the chance, because now his life would be different, better. More. It would have been difficult with his face being so recognizable, but he thought they could have figured something out, after all. Brenna was nothing if not resourceful, and he was no slouch himself, especially if sticking through a bit of hardship meant that he'd would be able to spend what time he was allotted at her side.

Perhaps he could have married her. Perhaps he could have been something of a father to her daughter.

Those thoughts were...difficult. He'd never truly admitted – even to himself – but they were things he desired, more than anything else, and nothing in the galaxy had ever felt quite so impossible to him now. From the moment he'd watched Cut interacting with his own family, Rex had wanted something similar for his own life, even though he told himself that it was not his place or purpose to want; his duty was to defend those who already had the things that he was not supposed to miss.

If a Jedi like Ahsoka, or even General Kenobi were around, Rex knew that they would have advised him to be thankful of the happiness he'd gotten to share with Brenna, for it was far more than most clones – hell, most people – got to experience, and he was grateful...but still. It wasn't enough. It was too short.

Actually, his time in general had been too short, but that was another thing he didn't try to think about. Rex resisted the urge to sigh; something about facing the end of one's life made one introspective, he supposed.

No one spoke for a moment, then Jesse cleared his throat. “So...this evening. Nineteen-hundred...what is that, like five hours from now?”

It was almost superfluous to ask, as all the clones had an instinctual sense of the passage of time, as if each second that ticked by was ingrained in their minds. Rex answered in the affirmative before settling beside Coric, stretching his legs out before him and resting his head against the cool, durasteel wall of the cell because he was exhausted and there was nothing left to do but wait.

Rex closed his eyes, just for a moment.

The next thing he heard was a faint rapping noise, the sound of gloved knuckles knocking against a plastoid helmet. His eyes opened and his head turned towards the humming energy shield, beyond which he could make out the lonely guard rapping his knuckles against his bucket in the manner of someone with comm troubles, and something inside Rex stood at attention, even as he kept his body still. Coric was sleeping, but Jesse was awake; they exchanged a glance over the medic's head, then looked back towards the guard, who still appeared to be experiencing technical difficulties.

After a few useless minutes of rapping – far too long, Rex thought, for at the first sign of trouble the guard should have reported it and called for a replacement while he went for some new kit – the Spaarti guard looked up, his posture tense as if he was in a hostile situation. Brows knitting, Rex watched as the guard started to shake his head, then started slapping on the outside of his bucket again, going so far as to grip the helmet with both hands as if he was in pain. Jesse nudged Coric, who woke silently; Rex nodded to the guard, who was bending over as if he were about to remove his bucket, and all three clones tensed.

As Rex took a breath, mentally going over the motions he'd have to make in order to take out the guard – should he even be able to magically get through the shield, that is – the Spaarti threw off his bucket and began to rub at his ears, his face contorted as if he were in great pain, his eyes squeezed shut.

That was when Fives struck.

It was a testament to Fives' ARC training that Rex hadn't seen him enter the cell-block; the only reason he knew of his brother's presence was because the Spaarti guard gave a strangled sort of yelp as he went flying across the room, pummeled by a shadowy figure towards another cell that Rex couldn't see the inside of. Fives was upon him – Rex would know the armor, anywhere – taking only a few moments to lock him in the cell, probably disarming the trooper as well as disabling any communication devices. Once Fives had done so, he turned and made his way to Rex, Jesse and Coric, tucking the Spaarti's deece under his arm and clipping his helmet to his belt with his free hand.

The three of them had risen, Jess and Rex supporting Coric between them even as Jesse gawked at Fives. “Holy kriffing hell,” Jesse sputtered as Fives frowned over the lock panel by their cell. “What...how...when...?”

“Later, Jess,” Fives replied in a curt voice that was belied by his grin. “We'll go into the specifics of the rescue later on. For now-”

“Will you hurry it up, ARC?” Another clone voice made Rex's head snap up in alarm. There was a clone in gray armor by the entrance to the cell-block, the blue slash of his T-visor standing out against the crimson wash of the shields. “We haven't got time for you and your buddies to play catch-up.”

It was Tucker.

“Crinking commando,” Fives muttered under his breath, his words undercut by the soft beep of the security panel. “Di'kut thinks that wearing fancy armor means he's in charge...well, we all bleed red, don't we?”

“I heard that, ARC.”

Jesse glanced at Rex, brow raised, but the captain had no idea what the look could have meant; he didn't think that Jess knew about Tucker and Brenna, and to be honest, he didn't really care about that at the moment. What he did care about was that it looked like he and his brothers might have a chance to get off of Coruscant in one piece, and he was ready and waiting to take this gamble.

Speaking in a low voice, he watched Fives' movements. “I've only seen the one guard in this block on a regular basis, but there are others that hang around upon occasion. Did you-”

“Got it,” Fives hissed, shooting Rex another grin as the shield dropped. Once the three clones stepped into the hallway, he replaced his bucket and indicated the entrance where the commando was waiting. “I promise to explain everything later, but for now we really have to haul shebs.”

With that, Fives handed Jesse the DC-15 he'd collected from the guard, pulled out a spare DC-17 from his holster to give to Rex, nudged the captain out of the way and took his place beneath Coric's shoulder. The four of them began to hurry to the entrance.

At their approach, Tucker thumbed towards the door. “It's clear on the other side; from what I can tell, their comms are still malfunctioning, but not enough to give anyone cause to activate the alarm. I reckon we don't have too much longer until they figure out what we're trying to do, so we'd best not linger.”

There was an ominous rumbling noise, which made each clone besides Tucker tense and glance up, as it seemed to be originating from above. The commando shook his head. “That's Jaing's doing,” he said, turning for the entrance. “Nothing we need to worry about.”

He activated the door, and when it opened on an empty corridor that was brightly lit with blue running lights along the floor, Rex tightened his grip on the blaster, thinking it was good to be armed again and wishing he also had his armor. As they began to trot down the passage – as quickly as they could, given Coric's injured state – Rex shot Fives an astonished look. “You have to give me something, Fives. This is unbelievable. How did you manage it?”

“We couldn't have gotten this far without Bren,” Tucker answered from his place at the front of the group; since Fives was helping to support Coric and neither Rex nor Jesse knew the way out, it only made sense that he should lead. “I'm not sure exactly what she did – something about distorting their internal comm channels – but she was brilliant. As usual.”

Despite the situation, there was a wistful tone to the commando's voice that made Rex's hackles rise, though the mention of the woman he loved also filled him with hope; perhaps things would be okay. She'd done this for him, and while he didn't like the idea of her risking herself in any way for his own safety, he felt a swell of gratitude and love for the brown-haired woman.

Fives seemed to sense his feelings, and gave him a look from across Coric even as they hurried. “She's waiting for you, vod.”

The words – and the thought behind them – were a comfort, even when they all ducked instinctively at the sudden blare of an alarm. The moment the klaxon sounded, emergency lights in the hallway began flashing an angry red, and Tucker lifted his hand in the signal that meant stop.

When they all halted, Rex could feel the tremors in the floor from about half a dozen sets of booted feet approaching, so the commando indicated a nearby alcove that was out of the way; once they were out of sight, Rex heard other clones getting closer, and though he knew that he and his brothers – and Tucker – could have taken them out with little trouble, he also understood that it was imperative that they save their energy for when they'd really need it. Once the guards passed, Tucker indicated that they should move out.

Things continued in this fashion for about fifteen minutes. The group of clones hurried through winding passages, their bodies cast in blinking crimson light; every so often they'd be forced to duck down a side corridor in order to hide, but for the most part they made good time. During the journey, Fives had indicated that he and Tucker had arranged for transport away from the RJC, and that all they had to do was make it to a nearby landing platform.

Perhaps it was a task that would have been easier said than done, but the clones were nothing if not determined, and Rex had to take a moment to thank the Force that Jango had apparently been one stubborn son of a nerf-herder, too much so to know when to quit.

“Get down,” Tucker hissed suddenly, nearly shoving Rex backward into a nearby corridor just as a group of guards approached; because it would serve no purpose right now, Rex bit back his anger at the commando's rough treatment even though the force of the shove was harder than it should have been.

As they slipped into the shadows, Coric met Rex's eyes. “I'm slowing you all down.”

“Don't even think of suggesting what I think you're going to,” Rex replied with a shake of his head. “No man gets left behind.”

“But-”

Even in the flare of crimson light, even when he was bruised and battered and exhausted, Rex managed to stare down his brother. “Captain's orders, Sergeant. You're not to speak of it again, is that clear?”

There was no verbal reply, but as Coric nodded, Rex caught a gleam of relief in his eyes.

“Kriff.” It was Tucker, crouched at the entrance; Rex stepped towards him and they exchanged glances, because the sound of approaching footsteps was growing louder and more frequent with each passing moment. “I think they're onto us,” the commando muttered as Fives gave a soft curse. “It sounds like they're trying to surround our position.”

Rex spoke in a low, urgent voice. “We should split up. I can lead them away from the rest of you, so you can get to the ships. Just tell me where they are, and-”

“No man left behind, Captain,” Coric broke in from behind, and Rex sighed.

“This isn't-”

“Besides that,” Fives added, removing his helmet to add a glower in Rex's direction. “It'd take too long to explain where the ships are located.”

There was a beat, then Tucker spoke. “Rex and I can go...together. We'll take the longer route out of here and draw the guards' attentions so the rest of you can get to your ship safely. With their internal communication going haywire, they'll have trouble keeping track of all of us.”

He didn't sound pleased, but it wasn't a bad plan, and Rex knew that he'd have to set his own feelings for the commando aside in order to finish this. Perhaps, once they were both free, he could punch Tucker properly.

It was something else to look forward to.

So he nodded and gripped the hilt of his blaster. “Works for me,” he said, ignoring Fives' astonished look. “Jesse, Fives, Coric: I'll see you in a few minutes.”

Jesse's eyes were wide, but he nodded and shifted his hold on Coric, whose own eyes had closed, briefly. Fives' startled expression smoothed away to his normal, battle-ready appearance, and he took a breath and nodded. “Alright. You go first and draw them away down the left passage; we'll take the right, and meet you outside.”

As Rex and Tucker turned to leave, Fives reached out and put a hand on his forearm, gripping it in the traditional gesture between the clones that could either be a greeting or a farewell. Neither man said a word, but the look that the ARC gave Rex was filled with respect. A moment later, Fives released his arm, and Rex darted after the commando.

*****​

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Next time: Rex & Tucker...working together? (Spoiler: someone gets a bloody nose. )​

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Thanks for reading!​

 

Excellent escape and sensible strategy to split up. Wow, they did cut it close though and I'm glad the jamming held for as long and well as it has. Looking forward to the Rex/Tucker gettin' down to cases

 

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@Nyota's Heart: Whew! Glad you liked the escape! Stuff like that is so not my forte.

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Thanks so much for the comment!

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*****​

Chapter Forty-Two​

Tucker was fast, and although Rex was exhausted and sore from his capture he had no wish to be left behind, so he kept up the frenetic pace as best he could and hoped that their movements would be enough to keep the attention of the guards.

After several minutes, they fell into a rhythm of sprinting down hallways, stopping to listen, ducking to let guards only catch the barest glimpse of them, then starting all over again. Even with the bulky Katarn armor, Tucker moved soundlessly; luckily, Rex's lack of armor – while he felt vulnerable – allowed him greater freedom of movement, and he was not as pressed as the commando to keep his steps silent when they needed to be.

Once, they were surprised by a pair of guards who must have caught sight of them and fallen back to intercept. It was by virtue of the guards' comms being down that the others didn't convene upon Rex and Tucker immediately, and both clones made certain that the Spaartis' attention would stay completely on them. As Rex disabled one of the guards with a swift jab to the throat, he watched as Tucker took out the second guard with brutal efficiency; one, two, three hits of his fists and the Spaarti crumpled to the floor, unmoving.

Thinking that some kit was better than nothing at all, Rex knelt and unclipped the Spaarti's utility belt to wrap around his own waist; once he did so, he glanced at Tucker, who was crouched with his blaster drawn, clearly alert. As Rex stood, Tucker looked his way, the blue visor glinting oddly in the crimson light. “Ready?”

A swift nod that the commando returned, and they were off again.

Several minutes later, as they were crouched behind a curving section of wall, waiting for another patrol to pass by; by now, Fives, Coric and Jesse should have made it to their ship, so Rex and Tucker had decided to switch tactics and avoid the guards completely, if they could. For now, it seemed that they'd managed to shake the worst of them, but Rex felt himself growing frustrated by the seemingly endless labyrinth that was this place. He knew they were taking “the long way,” but each second that ticked by was one more where Brenna was waiting for him, one more where she was probably terrified and sitting on the edge of her seat.

Beneath him, his bent knees were starting to tingle from holding the half-kneeling position for so long, but he shook his own discomfort away and glanced at his traveling companion, whose head was tilted to the side in the manner of a soldier listening to his comm.

“What's up?”

There was a pause, then Tucker replied in a curt voice. “Jaing says that the guards are catching onto his position – he's had to move our ship a few times to avoid being spotted. Sounds like Fives' girlfriend is okay where she's waiting, though; Jaing thinks your brothers have reached her.”

Something like relief expanded in Rex's chest, and he gave a swift nod.

Tucker paused again, then glanced back at the captain. “Our way out's not far...just down that next corridor and to the right. We're close, but we're also running out of time.”

Rex tightened his grip on the deece even as the sounds of footsteps echoed in the corridor adjacent to their position. “Understood. Once this wave of guards passes, we'll make a break for it.”

Silence, save for the clumping of nearby boots and the stutter of Rex's heart within his chest; adrenaline was coursing through his veins, but he held the feeling to run in check until he needed it. Suddenly, he heard the soft hiss of an unsealing bucket. When he looked back at Tucker, the other clone had rested his bucket on his bent knee – they were both crouching beside one another – and was studying him intently. There was confusion in his gaze, along with something that Rex identified as need, as if the commando was trying desperately to assess the captain.

“You're not bad in a fight,” Tucker murmured. “You seem like you have a decent head on your shoulders. But you're a clone. You're just like me...what is it about you? What is it that she fell in love with?”

I didn't get her pregnant and then take off like a coward. Rex felt his jaw clench and his fists tighten around the grip of the deece. “We're nothing alike.”

Tucker's face darkened. A moment later, however, he gave Rex another discerning look and shrugged, the movement painfully, deliberately casual. “Must be, I guess. She picked you, didn't she?”

“Why are you doing this?” Rex asked, not willing to get into a debate about Brenna's affections at the moment. “You and your friends could be captured, or worse. Why are you going through all this trouble for someone you seem to consider a rival?”

Okay, so he wasn't quite above a debate, but Rex thought it was a fair question, and they had a moment to spare. To his credit, Tucker didn't waste a moment to think over his response. “I'm doing it for her, di'kut.”

Rex thought that his face must have shown surprise, because the commando gave a heavy sigh and scrubbed his face with his hand, the motion seeming to convey an overwhelming sense of loss. “I know that she doesn't love me as I love her. I know that nothing I can do now will fix what I did in the past...but still. I have to do something right, even if it's too little, too late. Even if it's helping the likes of you.”

“I suppose that's where we're similar, Tucker,” Rex replied at once, frowning over the words and the realization.

The commando's eyes tightened. “Could you do the same thing, if our roles were switched?”

It was Rex's turn to answer without hesitation, and as he spoke he could see Bren and Iri in his mind's eye. “If it meant keeping Brenna safe – and keeping my daughter safe – I'd go to any lengths. Nothing would be too much; nothing would be too difficult. If she or Iri was in trouble, nothing in this galaxy could keep me from protecting them as long as I could draw a breath.”

For a moment there was silence, even the sounds of footsteps had stopped, then Tucker inhaled once, swiftly, as if he were about to speak.

However, he was prevented from doing so by a burst of blaster-fire on either side of the men that made Rex and Tucker both swear loudly; they'd been distracted by their conversation only to be ambushed by the guards. Without the sound dampers that would be in his kit, battle was kriffing louder than he recalled.

For a few moments Rex's world shrank to the corridor, to the shrill call of weapons, and to the furious, adrenaline-fueled lash of his heart against his ribs; if he died now, if he fell here and did not get up from this fight, he would never see Brenna again.

Terror snagged at his hands, urged them to tremble and ruin his aim, but he held the feeling at bay and kept his aim steady. When it came down to it, this was a situation that he'd been in any number of times, except this time he had something real he was fighting for. It didn't matter that he was without his kit or his brothers; Rex was determined to survive and see the woman he loved, no matter what. He fired on the Spaartis, ducking and rolling to avoid their answering rounds, blinking every so often to clear his eyes of the smoke and hiss of burning plasma that threatened to blind his sight. The air was acrid and thick. Something pricked his shoulder, but he hardly felt the pain of the graze.

Beside him, Tucker was a dervish.

Rex had never fought alongside a commando before; they were strictly spec-ops guys, working in small, tightly-knit squads on missions that were a far cry from the full-scale battles with which he was familiar. There were jokes among the ranks that commandos were a breed apart from the “regular” clones like Rex and Fives, with the only others holding that distinction being the original, Jango-trained ARC troopers, and – of course – the infamous Nulls.

Too good for the rest of us. They were words said with an odd mixture of pride and resentment, and Rex had felt a similar sentiment echoed in his own heart on more than one occasion.

Now, though, he saw that there was some truth to the words, if not the sentiment. Tucker moved faster than almost any clone the captain had ever encountered, even encumbered by the armor as he was. Rex was no slacker, not by a long shot, but there was something almost...unreal about the commando's movements, all of which were diamond-sharp and deadly. There had been at least a dozen guards who'd set upon the two of them; several minutes into the battle, only two remained, and Rex counted most of the bodies in front of the commando.

The last two guards fell, and for a moment Rex and Tucker stood in the abrupt, after-battle haze of curling smoke from spent muzzles and the final groans of soldiers, then they looked at each other. Tucker's nose was bleeding; he absently wiped the crimson trickle away with his glove and nodded to the passage behind Rex. “Let's move out.”

As they turned to leave, they heard another clone voice behind them, several meters from their position. “Stop right there, traitors. Drop your weapons.”

“More of them?” The commando sounded irritated as he and Rex glanced over their shoulders to see another contingent of guards. “Can't these barves take a hint?”

A quick glance at his power-pack indicated that his weapon was at half-charge; it wasn't ideal, but it was better than nothing. “We can do it,” Rex murmured, holding the visored gaze of the guard who'd spoken. “We just have to-”

Tucker shook his head; he hadn't had time to replace his bucket, and it swung at his side at the movement. “We've wasted enough time. Go.”

“What?”

The commando exhaled and raised his blaster as if he was about to surrender. “Did you hear me, or are you defective? Go. Now. I can handle them.”

Rex frowned as the guards began to inch forward, blasters trained on the two clones in their midst. To stall, he raised his own hands as if he were surrendering as well. “We have better odds if we fight together-”

“Sithspit,” Tucker growled. “That's a load and we both know it. Look...” Here, he paused and shot Rex a glance that was filled with remorse. “I don't like you, not even a little, but she loves you...and I made a promise. Get back to her.”

The guards drew closer, seemingly mollified with the “surrender.” For the briefest moment, Tucker's eyes closed, and when he spoke his voice was soft and very full. “Take care of my girls, Rex.”

“I-”

Eyes open again and upon him, Tucker's gaze was searing. “Please.”

There was nothing Rex could do but nod. “I will.”

With that, the commando's movements became a blur. He nodded once, shoved his bucket on his head and began to open fire on the guards even as he plummeted towards them, causing many of the Spaartis to jump back in alarm. For a moment they were all distracted with what was essentially a one-man-army, too much to notice Rex as the captain took a breath and turned away, towards the corridor that he knew would lead him to safety.

As he sprinted, he glanced back once. At first he couldn't make out Tucker; at first all he could see were streaks upon streaks of blaster-bolts, until a guard stepped to one side and he caught sight of a gray armored form collapsing to the floor, buried beneath a hail of plasma.

*​

Later...

It was late afternoon on Alderaan.

Brenna watched the sun start its descent to the mountains; she knew that within a few hours it would sink behind the rocky peaks and bathe them in golden light, after which the sky would darken to indigo and stars would appear above her head like scattered chips of diamond. A gentle breeze tugged at the hem of her shirt, sending the hairs on her arms to standing up despite the warmth of the sunlight on her back, and she fought back the urge to wrap her arms around her waist. Instead, she hugged Iri closer to her chest and breathed in her daughter's scent.

It was the only thing that served to ease her frayed nerves, because Rex should have already been back. Fives had comm'd – briefly – to say that they'd all made it off Coruscant safely, but the transmission had been cut off before he could give an ETA, and Brenna didn't know how much more not knowing she could handle. The plan was for the clones and Marliss to land on her mother's ranch, itself on the outskirts of any civilized area, so that they would remain undetected.

From there...

Well, once she had Rex in her arms again she could think about the next step, but for now she couldn't consider anything beyond that singular goal.

Once her part of the rescue had been completed, Brenna's only obstacle was to wait; she thought that slicing into the RJC systems from Alderaan in order to muck up their comms was far easier than waiting.

At this rate, I'm going to age twice as fast, right along with Rex.

“Mama?” Iri's face was worried; she'd been remarkably quiet, watching the sky with Brenna for about half an hour now, but it was only a matter of time before her attention flagged.

“Yes, honey?”

There was a pause, then Brenna felt a light touch against her cheek; Iri's eyes, honey-brown and wide, met her own. “Mama cry?”

Brenna glanced down at Iri's fingers and noted that they were wet. A brush with the back of her hand against her eyes revealed the source. She wanted to shelter her daughter from this moment, but her heart was too heavy with fear, and the look in Iri's eyes indicated that the little girl knew something was wrong. “I'm scared,” she admitted, looking back at the sky. “I don't know where Rex is. I don't know if he's safe.”

Iri nodded sagely, then leaned forward to embrace her mother's neck. “Rex okay, Mama.”

It was a strange thing to laugh even as desperate fear clutched at her heart. “I hope so, sweetheart.”

There were footsteps behind her; a glance over her shoulder revealed the forms of Caith, Edme – a small, dark-haired boy holding her hand – and Jensine approaching through the grassy pasture from the direction of the main house. As her family surrounded her, Caith placed a hand on her shoulder and Jensine stood at her side, one hand lifted to shield her eyes from the slanting sunlight.

“No sign of them yet, I take it?” Caith asked. Brenna shook her head and he nodded, squeezing her shoulder. “We've got the rooms ready to go; Ed and I brought enough food to feed a small army.”

“Which is what we're getting, by the sounds of it,” Jensine added, shooting Brenna a speculative look. Once Brenna had learned that Rex would be accompanied by Fives, Kix, Jesse and possibly more clones, she'd fallen into a slight state of panic, because they needed medical care and food and shelter...none of which she was able to provide.

However, her mother had surprised her by insisting that the clones stay in her house for the time being – rent-free, though Brenna was working out how to slip her mother the necessary funds to pay for all of this – and Caith and Edme had offered to stay a little while and help the men settle in.

Although none of them knew what would happen to the clones in the newly-formed Empire, it was likely that they'd be treated as deserters, and thereby be wanted men, men whom it would be dangerous to shelter. Brenna had explained all of that to her mother; Jensine had stubbornly refused to be cowed, and then had told Brenna to make herself useful and air out her old room, then collect every bandage and bacta-swab she could find.

The truth was, Brenna had no idea if her mother was doing all of this to further the peace between them, or if she just wanted a source of cheap labor – talk had been made of having the clones help out with the quagga if they wanted and were able – but for most of the past day she'd been too worried to care much about her mother's reasons. Ultimately, she trusted Jensine and that would have to be enough.

Brenna shifted the toddler's weight to her other hip and glanced at her mother again. “Thank you for being so accommodating, Mom. I know this a lot to spring on you at the last minute...”

Jensine lifted her hand in a dismissive gesture. “It's the least we can do, Brenna. You know I've never been one to turn folks in need away. Besides,” she added with a tilt of her head towards the quagga stables. “It will be good to have a full house again, I must admit.”

Iri glanced between her elder relatives, then looked back at Brenna. “Full house, Mama?”

Something within Brenna's throat was tight and her eyes were hot, but a deep breath helped her collect herself. “Rex is bringing some of his brothers,” she explained, shooting her mother a grateful look over Iri's blonde baby-curls. “They need a place to stay for a little while.”

Suddenly, Edme lifted her hand and gestured to the sky, towards the sun. “What's that?”

Everyone squinted. They'd had a few false alarms already, and while Brenna told herself not to get her hopes up, not to get too excited, because if it wasn't him she'd be crushed all over again, Iri began to squirm in her arms. “Ship! Ship!”

Brenna tried to shush her, but Iri continued shrieking. “Ship! Mama...ship!”

If she strained, she could hear the distinctive growl of a repulsor; moments later, a dark blotch seemed to loosen itself from the sun and began to approach the pasture that surrounded Brenna and her family, themselves standing at the foot of Zephyr Mountain.

It was a roundish, dingy-looking freighter of some kind, but Brenna hardly noticed the shape of the vessel; as it came to rest on the ground, the grass rippled beneath the landing struts, and when the hatch began to lower she found herself moving forward with Iri still in her arms. There was steam from the hydraulics that powered the descending ramp, but it was immediately brushed away by the ubiquitous Alderaani wind.

The wind swept the steam away and revealed the man she loved.

Brenna's heart leaped to her throat when she saw Rex exiting before the other clones and Marliss. At first he edged down the ramp carefully, squinting in the light, but she knew the moment that his eyes fell on her because his entire face changed. Caution fled, replaced by a joy that matched her own. As she gripped Iri tighter, she began to run full-throttle across the grass.

They met in the swaying grass, meters from the ship. One moment the space around her and Iri was empty; the next they were surrounded by Rex's arms and his mouth was on her own. It was real, he was there, it wasn't a dream. Brenna wanted to cry but she was too busy kissing him, too grateful to do anything but kiss him and wrap her free arm around his waist even as the force of his embrace picked both her and Iri off of the ground.

For one moment she was weightless.

When he set her down, they pulled apart and looked at each other; she realized that his face was wet, too, and that he had a few new cuts and bruises, but otherwise he looked as he had the last time she'd seen him. Relief, overwhelming relief swept through her even as she watched him assessing her in much the same way.

However, when he opened his mouth to speak, Iri giggled again. “See, Mama? Rex okay.”

Rex gave the child a look that was filled with warmth, and something within Brenna unfurled with happiness at the expression on his face as he regarded her daughter. “I am now, Iri.”

*****​

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A/N: This was originally "the end," but it felt a little abrupt and there were some things that I wanted to start establishing so that this fic and the sequel will sort of "flow" into each other, hence the next two chapters.

Tucker. Sigh. You probably saw his death coming, but I hope it still made an impact; he's a good guy, after all. I hated to kill him off, but it needed to happen for a number of reasons, and I am rather fond of his "last words," which will play a role later on.

Next time: what's the best way to start a new life? With breakfast, of course!


Thank you for reading!

 

Terrific! Squeelicious and relieved! reunion

 

Chapters 1-5

The introspection on Rex’s state at the beginning is fascinating, and I like that we see a character dealing with unrequited feelings who doesn’t end up with their crush by the end. I think it adds something to the later introduction of Brenna, that he already has that experience of dealing with romantic emotions that didn’t turn out with a storybook ending. And that he and Ahsoka remain friends and he decides to value that friendship over pursuing the crush. Those are difficult things to portray without making it seem like a downer – after all, we want to see everyone happy. But this is great; poignant, but you can tell that Rex and Ahsoka’s growing pains are just that – things that they will learn from and hopefully thrive better in whatever the future holds for them.



Toydarian Tease. That conjures up such an image of a drink that would strip paint (or at least make you think you were small, blue, and flying with little wings.)



I liked the introduction of Brenna and her friends. They seem like a varied mix of personalities and they look out for each other. It’s interesting that we soon learn she has a daughter, and some past relationship with a clone. That gives her a unique perspective that sneaks through here and there – one gets the feeling that she has been personally affected by the Republic’s rather machine-like treatment of the clones. She’s more cautious and world-weary than her peers, and she sees more than the other civilians even though she would probably rather ignore it as well.

Loved that exchange, especially after Brenna was a bit gobsmacked by seeing Rex in full uniform.


Brenna is fantastic in the Ithor mission – realistically nervous and not acclimated to it like the clones but she just keeps on going with the decryption. Her worries about her daughter never seeing her again seem spot on for what a parent would think of in moments like that.

Ah, yes. Younger siblings will always be younger siblings. No matter what.

Aww. Sweet. Rex is a knight in shining armor, and Brenna is very much a brave, resourceful civilian who has just been slammed with a terrifying battle experience.

Wow. This whole conversation just makes me want these two to have all the happily-ever-after possible. They are working so hard to be good in a galaxy that often just uses people. I love their sense of compassion for each other; it would be so easy for the clone soldier to look down on a civilian for getting all upset about a perfectly “normal” battle, or for the non-clone to assume that these engineered fighters were not equal or deserving of praise for what they do.



The call with Brenna’s relatives on Alderaan was touching. It made sense that she would want to talk to her daughter right away after such a scary near-death experience. It was nice to learn more about her family and how they are connected (or not on speaking terms, in her mother’s case.) It’ll be interesting to see more about Iri – I’ve wondered before about what would happen to any children. Kind of suspect they weren’t well-treated under the Empire, at least if anyone knew of them.

 

@Nyota's Heart: Thanks! Glad you enjoyed. ​

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@Kahara: I'm so glad you're reading and enjoying! That's what stories are for. Thank you for all the lovely comments! ​

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Chapter Forty-Three​

The next time Rex woke, he was...comfortable. It was as disorienting as it was unexpected, and for several moments after his consciousness returned, he tried to assess his surroundings before opening his eyes, an old soldier's trick.

He was touching a number of things that were soft and warm: against his head, along the length of his body, and curled in the crook of his shoulder. He could smell Brenna's shampoo, which made him relax because she was the source of most the warmth that was pressed against him. Another moment's observation indicated that he was in a bed, covered with sheets and blankets, and that his head was resting on a downy pillow.

A soft chirrup further disoriented him and he tensed automatically, realizing after a moment that it was only a bird-call, though it sounded quite clear and close by. Something soft and sweet slipped across his face; an inhale told him that it was a breeze, carrying the scent of growing things.

After all of this, Rex opened his eyes and looked up into the wooden beams of a ceiling, before which he could make out streaks of slanting light filtering in from a window behind his field of vision. Motes of dust danced on the air, caught by the breeze that was shuffling in through the open window, and he was confused again as his eyes darted around the room. A slender shelf filled with holo-books and flimsies stood in one corner, with a small, wooden desk beside it, before another window that was covered with old-fashioned glass panes. Through careworn blue curtains he could make out a distant mountain as a streak of gray beneath a blue sky.

The last thing he remembered...

“You're here.” Brenna's voice lifted away the bulk of his confusion and replaced it with joy; he exhaled with relief because she was safe and whole, they were together and she was smiling as she leaned up to kiss him.

When they parted, he glanced around the room and gave her a curious look, because he still wasn't quite sure where he was. “Bren...where's here?”

Her lips curved into another smile and she settled back against his chest, inhaling his scent before she spoke again. “Alderaan,” she replied. “My mother's home. You're all safe; you, Fives, Jesse, Kix, Coric and Marliss arrived yesterday afternoon. I imagine they're all still sleeping...everyone was pretty wiped out after you landed.”

There was a pause as he absorbed the information, then she scooted up so that she was partly resting on his chest, her chin on her folded arms. From this angle, he could see that she was clothed – as was he – and her hair was tangled. “You were so exhausted; Caith and I had to all but carry you upstairs. How much do you remember from yesterday?”

Rex smoothed back some errant strands of her hair as he considered. “I remember being on the ship...then I was kissing you.” He gave her a half-smile. “That's about where my memory stops.”

“Kissing me?” she asked, unfolding her arms and leaning forward. As her lips brushed his she smiled again. “There's more where that came from.”

Force, he never wanted to stop kissing this woman; she was warm and so very alive in his arms, and he was filled with gratitude that he was finally with her. He was also humbled, because despite the fact that he recalled little of the journey to Alderaan, or the escape of the previous night, he remembered well-enough the sacrifice of the man who'd made this moment possible. It was an odd feeling – gratitude to the one who'd caused Brenna a great deal of pain – but there it was.

When they parted, he met her eyes again, twining his fingers in her already tousled hair. “Tucker didn't make it,” he said quietly. “I...I'm sorry.”

She nodded. “I heard.” After a moment she sighed and rested her cheek back against his chest, her fingertips toying with the thin fabric of his shirt. “I got a message from someone named 'Jaing,' that...let me know.”

“We were almost to the exit,” Rex said, skimming his free hand along her arm and watching as she listened. “He and I were set upon by a group of guards, and it soon became clear that we were outmatched. Tucker told me to go on,” he finished, deciding not to share the commando's last words with her. Take care of my girls, Rex. “He...was brave.”

Brenna was quiet while she absorbed the words; finally, her eyes brightened and closed, briefly, until she looked back up at him. “Thank you for telling me,” she said with a deep breath. “I..I don't know how I'm supposed to feel, but it's good to know what happened.”

“I think he really did love you,” Rex added, frowning. “Not sure what I'm supposed to feel about that, but I think it's true, anyway.”

He met her eyes and noted that the brightness had faded, though he could still discern traces of sorrow within their depths. “I love you,” she said after a moment, and he watched the sorrow trickle away. “That's what I do know. We can sort the rest out, later. For now, I think we should take things one day at a time.”

It was as good a plan as any, and the word 'later' made Rex realize that they had time...

Well, to a degree, but he decided that he didn't want to think about his own, unnaturally shortened lifespan right now, because she was leaning up to kiss him again. As she did, he felt a familiar quickening in his blood so he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her as close as possible and murmuring her name when they came up for air. Time...they had time, now, more than they'd ever had in the past, and he intended to make the most of it.

Just as he was sliding his hands beneath her shirt to pull it over her head, the door to the room creaked open. Before either of them could do more than turn, the sound of two small, bare feet pattering across the hardwood floor met his ears, and the next thing Rex knew, a bobbing, blonde head appeared at the foot of the bed. “Morning, Mama!”

Shooting him an embarrassed smile, Brenna extricated herself from Rex's arms and leaned over the blankets to scoop up her daughter. “Good morning, sweetheart.”

As she placed the child on the bed, Rex silently thanked whatever gods were listening that he was clothed, and that he and Bren hadn't gotten too far into their affections. Granted, he didn't know much about kids, but he figured that finding one's mother and lover in a compromising position was potentially scarring for a youngling.

Anyway, Iri seemed not to notice the adults' flustered natures as she squirmed out of her mother's attempts at an embrace in favor of studying the newcomer. Rex took the opportunity to regard the toddler as well, for this was the first time he'd gotten to see her in person – well, yesterday was really the first time, he supposed, but he didn't think it counted if he didn't remember.

Rex had never seen the biological child of a clone. Irini's eyes were the golden-brown of all his brothers, which would have made for a strange contrast with her fair hair, except for the fact that he shared both traits. Pale skin, long eyelashes; he could see Brenna's nose and chin as well, but the way she looked at him mirrored expressions he'd seen throughout his life.

He wondered what else they would share.

After a moment she gave him a toothy grin and seemed to forget that she'd been avoiding Brenna's arms; she settled into her mother's lap and watched him as she spoke. “'lo, Rex.”

She'd been delighted with his formality during past holo-calls, so he thought to try it again in person. “Good morning, Irini,” he replied, offering her a salute and trying to ignore the fact that he felt a bit silly doing so in bed, wearing sleep-clothes.

As he'd hoped, the toddler giggled and bobbed her head with excitement, her curls swaying. “Rex...see ponies?”

Ponies? He recalled a mention of Bren's mother raising some type of equine, but wasn't sure if that was the correct term, so he shot Brenna a curious look. For reasons he didn't know but resolved to find out, she sighed and cast her eyes to the ceiling. “Don't worry, Iri. I'm sure he'll see them, soon enough.”

*​

Several hours later, Brenna couldn't quite recall her mother's house having ever been this full. When she was younger –when her father was still alive – the station-hands often chose to eat in their own quarters above the stables, and her family was not known for being overly boisterous. No children had been at her mother's house in a number of years, and certainly no group of cloned, ex-soldiers had ever sat at the massive, dining room table, backs ramrod straight and gazes tentative as they watched plates of food being piled before them.

The sight might have been comical had Brenna not been aware that the lives of these men had been completely upturned within a few short days, and she wondered what they were all going to do, now.

Seated beside her at the table, Rex seemed marginally more relaxed than his brothers, but Brenna thought that his good mood could be attributed to the time they'd managed to find alone together once Edme had taken Iri away to get the toddler dressed. While Brenna never wanted to shirk her parenting duties, she had been pleased to have an hour or so to spend with just Rex.

They had a lot of catching up to do.

Anyway, it was pleasant to sit and listen to Iri and Tavi's chatter, and watch Fives and the others sneak looks towards the kitchen, where the food was being readied. Although Brenna had tried to help out, she'd been told to keep out of the way, so she was happy to sit by and try to convince Iri to sit still and wait for breakfast. The rich smell of caf wafted up from nearly a dozen mugs, and she could hear something hissing on a frying pan.

Her mother was many things, among them a decent cook; Caith was as well, as was Marliss – much to Brenna and Fives' bewilderment – and the three of them had made a substantial meal out of the supplies that Caith and Edme had brought to the homestead the previous day. Scrambled nuna eggs with cheese, crispy nerf-bacon, and stacks of flat-cakes were already being set out, and Brenna had to bite her tongue to prevent herself from chuckling at the way that the clones' eyes seemed to collectively widen just a bit more with each plate that was set before them.

As Caith brought out a fourth plate of bacon, Rex leaned over and whispered in her ear. “This is all for us?”

“It is,” she replied with a smile, for he looked incredulous. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Marliss approach Fives, who lifted his brow at her as she took the seat beside him. “No ration cubes, here.”

“Holy kriffing...er...” Jesse's exclamation was cut off by a sharp glare from Rex, after which the tattooed clone cleared his throat and gave Caith a polite smile. “Uh...thank you, Mr. Damaris.”

Brenna's brother chuckled and shook his head. “It's the least we can do...Jesse, right?” The clone nodded and Caith smiled. “You guys helped keep Bren safe all those months, not to mention...well...” He paused and looked a bit uncertain, but pushed forward after a moment. “You fought to keep all of us safe, for three years.”

“Hear, hear,” Jensine said as she bustled into the room, balancing two plates laden with fresh cut fruit, which Jesse jumped up to assist her with. “And young men like you need real food...not cubes of dried protein.”

“Don't look at me,” Brenna said as Rex gave her a startled glance. “I have no idea how she knows about ration cubes.”

On her other side, Iri shifted in her booster seat and cast a curious look between herself and Rex. “Mama...what's cubes?”

“You don't want to know, kiddo,” Rex replied automatically, which made Brenna and the others laugh.

Soon the table was loaded with more food than Brenna thought any of the clones had seen in one place before, judging by the bewildered looks on their faces. Even her unflappable Rex was staring in wonder. Once her mother had taken a seat, there was a moment of absolute stillness, as if the soldiers were terrified to make a movement out of place, but no one in the Damaris family cared much for protocol.

Jensine glanced around at the clones, then gave a deep sigh. “What are you boys waiting for?” she asked with a shake of her head. “Start at the top and eat until you hit table.”

“Yes ma'am,” Fives grinned, reaching for a plate of nerf-bacon. “That's one order I can follow.”

For several minutes there was little noise save the passing of dishes and the clinking of flatware. Once Iri was happily destroying a pile of scrambled eggs – some of which Brenna hoped she'd actually eat – she helped herself to some flat-cakes and settled in to observe the others, noting how Caith and Edme were trying to convince Tavi to at least eat a little fruit along with his bacon. Marliss and Fives were seated close together; the blonde woman caught her eye and gave her a wry smile. They'd hardly had a chance to speak since yesterday, but Brenna figured that would change.

Kix and Coric were eating quietly; the former was sporting a bandage on his chest and his arm was in a sling while the latter had a set of crutches leaning on the wall behind him. All of the clones were wearing some of Caith's old clothes, so any similarities in their appearances were lessened by the effect. While most of the borrowed clothing was careworn and faded, no shirt nor pair of trousers was the same, and if Brenna didn't look too closely, none of the young men seated at her mother's table looked quite as identical as she remembered.

As if reading her mind, Rex cleared his throat and glanced up at Jensine. “Mrs. Damaris...my brothers and I can't thank you enough for your hospitality.”

At his words, the others broke into a similar chorus of polite voices, and Brenna watched as her mother nodded with approval, the lines around her eyes crinkling as she smiled. “You're welcome, young man.”

“And this food is amazing,” Jesse said, his words a bit garbled as his mouth was filled with flat-cake. “I don't think I could stomach a ration cube ever again.”

“I imagine you won't have to,” Marliss replied, sitting up a bit straighter and sipping her caf. “I don't think anyone here is going to return to the GAR.”

Now that Tavi was settled, Edme nodded, thoughtfully spearing a piece of fruit with her fork. “It's all over the Holo-Net,” she added with a frown. “The War's over and there's no Republic anymore. Apparently, we're part of the new Galactic Empire.”

Beside her, Brenna felt Rex tense, and she placed a hand on his knee in a gesture of silent support as he spoke. “What else have you heard?”

Edme shot him a remorseful look. “There are a thousand rumors, of course, but not much that can be substantiated. All I know for certain is that the Republic has been reorganized; I've heard that the regional governors that were set in place during the last year or so are to be given more control, and the Senate seems to be something of a meaningless figurehead, now.”

“But none of that matters so much out here,” Jensine replied with a shake of her head. “Alderaan may be in the Core, but we tend to keep our heads down.”

There was a beat of silence, during which Brenna watched Rex and Fives exchange glances, then Rex spoke again. “What of the Jedi?”

More silence. Jensine set her fork down and gave Rex a careful look, though it was Caith who replied. “They're said to be traitors,” he said in a quiet voice. “There was talk of an uprising...it's unclear, exactly, but I know that many of them were killed a few nights ago, and that any survivors are being hunted down as we speak.”

“Rubbish, all of it,” Jensine said with a scowl. “The Jedi? Rebel against the Republic that they've defended for thousands of years? Unbelievable.”

Iri had taken to shoveling bits of egg in her mouth, and Brenna was thankful that her daughter didn't seem to be paying much attention to the conversation of the adults. She took a deep breath and looked at Rex again, noting how he had taken to pushing his food around on his plate as if he'd lost his appetite.

“My brothers and I are wanted men, now,” he said suddenly, looking from Brenna to the rest of her family. “Harboring us in your home is a very dangerous thing to do; I have to say...I'm reluctant to repay your kindness with that kind of trouble.”

As he spoke, he glanced at Brenna, concern etched on his face. “That's the last thing I want, actually,” he added quietly, so that only she heard.

Jensine, however, was not so easily swayed. “As I said, there's few who trouble themselves with our home,” she replied, lifting her chin and squaring her shoulders. “And I imagine the new Empire-” The word was said with a scowl, “-has other things to worry about than a few rogue soldiers.”

Rex didn't look convinced, but Brenna saw Jesse and Coric nodding thoughtfully as Kix and Fives exchanged glances. In her fashion, Jensine pushed onward. “Anyway, have you boys given thought to what you'll do now that you don't have to kill for a living?”

“We didn't kill much in the way of wets, ma'am,” Jesse spoke up. “Organics, I mean. Just droids, mostly.”

“Well, you're welcome to stay here in the meantime,” Jensine replied, glancing between the clones, her eyes falling on Brenna, last. “There are few droids about, but do any of you know about quagga...?”

“No, Mom,” Brenna said at once, setting down her fork and shaking her head, which caused Rex and the others to look at her in alarm. “They're not a source of free labor for you, okay?”

“I was going to offer paid work, Brenna. Honestly.”

She exhaled and looked at Rex, then the others in turn. “You don't have to work here if you don't want to,” she said. “You're free to do as you like, all of you.”

There was quiet for a moment, during which time the clones exchanged glances, then looked back at Brenna; surprisingly, it was Kix who spoke up, first. “What are quagga, ma'am?”

“Ponies!” Iri's voice broke over the others and even Brenna had to chuckle, despite her misgivings about her mother's motives.

“This is a livestock ranch,” Caith explained after a moment. “There is always work that needs to be done, and Mom has had a shortage of help, lately. However, Brenna is right; none of you are obligated to remain here if you don't wish to.”

Again, there was quiet, though it was of the more thoughtful kind. After several moments, during which a silent conversation seemed to ensue between the clones, Rex sat up. “If you'll have us, ma'am, I think we'd like to stay on for a little while.”

“Excellent,” Jensine replied, nodding. “I should warn you: it's hard work, sometimes.”

“I think we'll manage, ma'am,” Jesse said with a smile.

Beside her, Brenna felt Rex shifting in his seat, so she reached for his hand and laced their fingers together. Everything in his world had changed in a matter of days, and she figured that it would take a bit of time for him and his brothers to adjust; happily, she was here to help the process along. When he met her eyes, she gave him the warmest look she could manage and squeezed his hand. His face, which had been tense, relaxed a bit and he nodded as he squeezed back.

Across from them, Fives cast Marliss a speculative look, as if he was trying to ask her a question without words. In response, the blonde woman glanced towards Jensine again. “You mentioned that you'd pay them?” At Jensine's nod, Marliss looked back at Fives. “It might not be a bad idea, for a little while.”

“You think you'd want to stick around?” the ARC – the former ARC, Brenna supposed – asked.

A faint smile played on Marliss' lips even as she gave a casual shrug. “For a bit, if I can. Not like I can go back to my old job.”

“Yes, the government tends to look down on those who 'borrow' and modify its property without permission,” Fives said with a chuckle, clearly pleased with her answer. “Good thing you have me to keep an eye out for you, Miss Menin.”

“Well, you can cook well-enough,” Jensine replied with a swift nod at Marliss. “Any other skills?”

Fives opened his mouth to reply, but snapped it shut after a combined glare from Rex and Marliss, the latter of whom glanced back at Jensine and mentioned her work with hyperdrives and engines. Following this, the talk turned to further planning; by the time that everyone had finished eating, it had been decided that the clones and Marliss would stay in the Damaris home until...

Well, no time frame had been established, but Brenna was too grateful for the press of Rex's hand to hers to think much past right now.

“Alright then,” Jensine said, rising from her chair and casting a knowing look at the younger folks assembled before her. “Time to begin. Who wants to help me mend some fences in the far pasture, and who wants to clean up?”

****​

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A/N: One more chapter to go! Thanks for reading. ​

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(PS: There's a sequel...)

 

That was delightful. The happiness and sense of whew! safety was tangible. I am very happy Jensine and Caith don't hold much with silly propaganda A sequel? Will it be squee-ish or edge-of-seat-ish?

 

Ch 6-23

Why yes, I am speeding through these several at a time.

Rex and Brenna’s developing relationship is a great read, and I especially liked their discussions of what to call it from “dating” to “relationship.” So fun to observe how they play off each other’s different experiences. Rex usually seems to have a mature personality (and he is, mostly) but has those odd gaps in his knowledge of everyday life that make total sense. Brenna is such a believable character herself, with her uncertainties and second-guessing alongside a great deal of what I can only call courage. She’s gotten burned taking risks before and really doesn’t want to repeat that, but she still has the faith in possibilities (even when she tells herself otherwise) so that she really throws her heart into living.

Favorite conversations included this:

As well as their discussion of Umbara. It’s wonderful to see them affecting each other’s strengths for the better. The part where Brenna starts to try to mend fences with her mother stood out to me. No quick fixes, but small steps and remembering that tomorrow isn’t always a guarantee. Love that Rex is now able to share his doubts with Brenna, who has answers (or at least thoughts to ponder) that he wouldn’t necessarily find in his usual set of friends.

I’m also enjoying his continued friendship with Ahsoka, though! The part some chapters back where he reflects that he learned to love her values but she isn’t the only one with those characteristics – I thought that was really beautiful. Quite a contrast to Anakin’s conviction that some lives are more important. It all depends on who you take the time to know.

The introduction of the Spaarti clones is making me nervous, as I’m sure it ought to do. Something seems off with Appo as well. However, it is amusing to think that’s why stormtroopers can’t shoot by the time of ANH.

 

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@Nyota's Heart: Yay! So glad you enjoyed! Thank you - a thousand times over - for your amazing comments. They always make my day! The sequel is less-actiony, more angsty, but (I hope) just as enjoyable. ​

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@Kahara: Realism among my characters - OC and canon - is something I strive for, and I'm pleased to hear it's coming through with the cast in TFK. It was a lot of fun, in particular, to flesh out a friendship between Rex and Ahsoka. (Though of course writing romance is my favorite thing ever...) Thank you for your insightful comments. ​

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*****​

Chapter Forty-Four​

About an hour later...

Wind slipped under his shirt and grazed the top of his head, but the sun was warm on Rex's back as he, Fives and Jesse watched Caith demonstrate how to repair the old-fashioned wood and wire fence that bordered this section of Mrs. Damaris' land.

The pasture where they stood ended at the top of a relatively small hill which overlooked the sprawling valley that was adjacent to the Damaris' territory; in the distance, Rex could see a cluster of charcoal-colored mountains rising above more green than he'd ever observed in one place, which was saying something.

It was late spring here. Patches of snow still clung to the highest peaks, themselves wreathed in mists and clouds that had not yet been burnt away by the sun. The sky itself was a clear, unwavering blue, and the surrounding area felt peaceful.

“Wouldn't an energy-fence be more practical?” Fives was asking. “This seems to be a little...quaint.”

Caith was showing them where the wires that wrapped around the wooden beams of the fence had come loose from the metal latch that held them in place. Beyond their position, Rex could see a line of fence that seemed to stretched out forever over the rolling, grassy hills.

“It's worked for a long time,” Brenna's brother replied. “I know it may seem odd, but it's really very practical.”

After he spoke he pursed his lips and glanced towards Mrs. Damaris; she was watching the demonstration with one hand on her hips, the other holding on to Caith's son, Tavi, who'd insisted on coming along with his father. However, Rex noted that the boy seemed very interested in the cloned soldiers than in mending a broken fence, as his eyes kept flicking from clone to clone and his expression indicated that he was curious.

“Running power all the way out here is inherently risky as well,” the elder woman said, her voice lifting over the wind. “With this area being so far from the house, it would need to be checked several times a week – if not daily – to ensure that it still worked. When those things fail, you're out of luck. At best, you have a breach in your territory where the stock could escape; at worst...well, aside from predators, there've been fires on other folks' land before, started by sparks from failed energy fences. Technology will only work so well, but I'd prefer to rely on things I can touch and feel.”

As he listened to Mrs. Damaris speak, Rex thought that she didn't look too much like Brenna; he could see similarities in facial structure, of course, but overall Jensine Damaris reminded him of no one he could recall meeting. Her mannerisms struck him as being more like that of a drill sergeant on Kamino than a ranch-owner, though admittedly he didn't know the first thing about ranches, or quagga, for that matter. Well, he knew that Brenna didn't care for the creatures and that Iri did, but he had no firsthand experience with which to base any knowledge. Yet.

That, he knew, was going to change in the next few weeks.

Caith slid the wire into its place, the latch catching with a satisfying snap, then gave the whole thing a good tug before he stood up. “These fences are made to last longer than any energy shield; the parts are all interchangeable and they're remarkably sturdy.”

“Can I help, dad?” Tavi asked, forgetting his fascination with the clones for a moment as he watched his father.

Nodding, Caith used his gloved hand to rub affectionately at the boy's head, then glanced at Rex; there was a question in his gaze, but as of yet he'd said nothing to the clone.

Squinting, Jesse indicated the segment of fence that was stretched before them, following the ridge of the hill as far as they could see. “Sounds easy enough. All this needs to be checked?”

“I think the most efficient way is to set yourselves up in pairs at intervals, alternating segments between workers until you meet one another at a central point,” Mrs. Damaris said, her voice ringing with confidence, as if she'd done this many times. “Hopefully we can get this section done today. I can take two of you down the line, while Caith can help out the remaining fellow, here.”

Rex cast another glance at the sweeping scenery around them, then looked back at his brothers. “You heard her, men: Jesse, Fives – go with Mrs. Damaris.”

Soon enough, he watched as the other clones boarded the rickety speeder that the group had driven out here and skimmed off over the grass. Once they'd gone he glanced back at Brenna's brother, who was studying him again, and this time Rex thought he had an idea of what Caith was thinking; there was no mistaking the protective look in the other man's eyes, and Rex figured a talk of some sort was coming.

However, nothing was said for a few minutes, during which they worked in relative silence. All of the clones had been given leather gloves to protect their hands, and it was easy to fall into a rhythm with the repairs to the fence: checking the line of connecting wires that ran up each post and fastened into a corresponding eyelet. Some of the eyelets had broken off and had to be replaced; some wires had simply come undone. It was not difficult work, but Rex could see that it would be time-consuming and taxing over a long period of time, so he was glad that he and his brothers could be of help.

During the escape from the RJC, his shoulder had been grazed by a blaster-bolt, but the injury caused him little more than an ache that was easily ignored. In many ways, Rex found it difficult to believe that his life had changed so completely from when he'd received the wound; crouched before a wooden fence in the Alderaani mountains was a far cry from running for his life in a Republic prison, or from any of his old missions for the Republic, actually.

No, not Republic: Empire, he told himself as he reached for a spare eyelet to replace one that had rusted off. Emperor, not Chancellor.

He still didn't know the whole story behind that title-change. Probably no one did, not really, and admittedly the political machinations of the upper-echelons of government had never interested him overmuch. His focus had always been his brothers, the men whose lives were in his hands. They were what mattered, not politics, even though he knew that the army's fate had always been tied to the decisions of the Senate.

But the Senate was far away now – not just from him, but from the entire galaxy, it seemed – and most of his brothers were gone, dead or just too far away, right now. The few who remained with him were still his responsibility, and together they all had to learn to live in this new world.

As for the Jedi...well, he had to trust that Ahsoka was safe; Kenobi, Skywalker, and the others he'd served with were resourceful and clever, and he hoped that they had found ways to escape the fate that had befallen so many of their comrades.

Rex gave a deep exhale and moved on to the next section of fence, because there was nothing he could do about the Jedi right now. As Brenna had suggested, it was probably best to take things one day at a time.

“Looks good.” Caith's voice broke him out of his thoughts several minutes later; looking up, Rex watched Brenna's brother kneel down beside him, running a hand along the post Rex was working on. “You're a fast learner.”

“Bred for it,” he replied with a nod. “And it's no more complicated than assembling a DC-17.”

“Is that a blaster you fight with?” Tavi asked, his face alight. The dark-haired boy was clad in a pair of smaller gloves that were still quite big on his hands, and his eyes on Rex – a warm brown, just like Brenna and her brother's – were wide with curiosity.

“It was,” Rex replied with a glance at Caith. “But I don't have one any longer.”

Disappointment crossed the boy's face, but Caith gave his son a smile. “How about you go check the next few sections for us? Let us know how many new hooks we'll need.”

“By myself?” When Caith nodded, Tavi looked pleased, and made his way to the next section of fence, still within sight but far enough away that he likely couldn't hear anything the adults said.

Once Tavi was out of earshot, Caith looked at Rex. “You and the others seem like decent fellows,” he said without preamble as both knelt before the fence-post. “But I have to admit that I have...doubts.”

“That's understandable,” Rex replied in an even voice. “You don't really know any of us.”

“True. And, as you can probably guess, we – my family and myself – took a rather significant leap of faith when we decided to help Bren out and bring you guys here.”

Rex took a breath and held Caith's eyes. “We won't cause you any trouble. Matter-of-fact, if there's even a whisper that our presence is endangering your family in any way, we'll leave at once.”

“See, that's what I'm afraid of,” Caith replied, shaking his head as he ran his hands along the fence-post. “Brenna...she loves you, Rex. Force knows I thought – and hoped, I have to say – she'd never fall for another clone, but she did. I'm concerned for my family's safety, of course, but I'm also concerned for my little sister's heart.”

Before Rex could say anything, Caith dropped his hands and stood up, causing Rex to follow. “I need to know that her trust in you isn't misplaced, because I think that if you were to leave...she'd follow you, and she'd take Iri with her. That's a rather big responsibility for anyone, let alone a man with your background.”

It was actually a rather tactful way to phrase what the other man was undoubtedly thinking, especially considering that the last – and only – clone Caith had encountered before Rex and his brothers was one who'd impregnated Brenna and then fled the scene. Something inside Rex tightened with indignation and with fear. The words were true; when it came to staying with Brenna and Iri, he had no doubt that he would want to, but before now he hadn't had time to consider – to seriously consider – if he could.

Behind Caith's head, the sky was starting to be streaked with wispy, upper-level clouds and the wind seemed to drop as Rex considered his reply. “I have no intention of leaving her side – for any reason. I regretted not doing so the first time I had the chance, but in the end, I made the best decision that I could at the time. Now, though...”

Rex paused and looked at the distant mountains; there was so much space here, it was a bit disorienting to someone who had begun his life in a decanting jar and spent the most of the rest within the close quarters of a starship. “Now, I think I'm where I need to be. I know I'm where I want to be, because the woman I love is here, and if I have to choose again, I'll choose to be where she is, every time.

“As for responsibility,” he added, glancing back at Caith, whose eyes had flicked to the small boy a few times in the past minute or so. “I'm no stranger to others relying on me. Granted, I've never been a father, but if that's what I need to become in order to remain with Brenna and Iri, than that's what I'll do. Happily.”

“That's commendable,” Caith replied with a nod. “But loving someone and being a father are more challenging than you can possibly understand. I mean no disrespect,” he added. “Force knows I'd be useless on a battlefield, but from what I know of clones...this type of thing is far from your area of expertise.”

Yes, there was a bitterness to the way that Caith spoke of clones, but Rex thought that with time he could change the other man's opinion. “I have no intention of leaving Brenna and Iri,” he said at last, injecting his words with every iota of conviction he could muster and holding Caith's eyes with his own. “Unless she wants otherwise, I'll be by her side as long as I'm able.”

It was a painful thought, not only the idea that Brenna might not want him around one day, but the realization that it may not matter, because he might not live long enough for her get tired of him. However, he thought that Caith appreciated the acknowledgment, for the other man nodded slowly. After a moment, Caith sighed and leaned against the fencepost, regarding Rex thoughtfully. “I'm glad to hear that.”

“I'm glad I'm able to say it.”

Caith chuckled, then sighed and ran a hand through his hair, before glancing at the clone again. “She was right; you're nothing like Tucker.”

Take care of my girls, Rex.

No, not nothing. No clone was the same, but Rex thought that – while he would have done many things differently than the commando – there were worse things than sharing his face with the man who'd given his life for the well-being of those he cared for.

However, it felt like too much to explain to Caith right now, so Rex nodded. “We have our differences. Had, rather.”

“Had. Right.” Caith grimaced and looked away, towards the mountains. “I heard that he died; I wish I could say I was sorry, but he caused Brenna too much pain for me to really regret it. Anyway,” he added with a sigh as he met Rex's eyes again. “That's the past, and I think it's best if we try and move on. Brenna seems like she's done so, and I have to admit that she's made a better choice in you, so far. So, as long as you're welcome in her life, you're welcome in mine.”

Rex nodded again, not quite sure what to say, other than “thank you.” There was a clinking sound behind them; both men turned to see Tavi frowning over the next fencepost. Surreptitiously, Rex studied Caith as the other man watched his son. “He seems like a good lad,” Rex said suddenly, nodding to the boy.

“He's the best,” Caith replied with the same smile that Brenna wore when she spoke of Iri. “Ed and I are so proud.” He paused, then looked back at Rex with a trace of wryness in his gaze. “I know you're not ready to be a parent, but I don't think anyone ever is, so I'll help you out if you like. Not that I'm an expert, but I've got about six years on you.”

Thinking of Iri, Rex gave a smile. “Thank you. I'm glad I'll have a chance to learn from your experience.”

Caith nodded as well, then indicated the fence. “We'd better get back to work. Mom's quite the drill sergeant when she wants to be.”

“I had a similar thought, actually,” Rex admitted as he glanced back at the fence. “But I really am grateful of the opportunity she's giving myself and my brothers.”

At this, Caith let out a snort of laughter, and clapped Rex on the back. “Just remember that feeling once your hands are covered in blisters and you're too sore to walk. And in the meantime...” He paused, then grinned. “Welcome to the family, Captain.”

Rex looked at the mountains and inhaled deeply. “Not 'Captain,' any longer, Caith,” he replied. “Just 'Rex.' And thank you...I'm happy to be here.”

*​

As it turned out, Caith hadn't been kidding about the blisters and being sore. By the time Rex, Fives and Jesse made it back from the far pastures, Rex thought that he had never been so tired in his entire life. When Rex, Fives and Jesse reached the Damaris' house, they met Kix and Coric – who'd returned from the stables a few hours ago – and received orders to rest; Rex had also been informed that Brenna and the others were still at the stables, doing something with the infamous quagga, but they'd be back soon. Edme was in the house as well, and mentioned something about dinner later.

After making sure that his brothers were okay, Rex chose to take a shower and change his clothes before finding his way to the front porch, because he wanted to sit, but also wanted to be outside.

It was that point of early evening where the sun was just starting to dip below the horizon, and the formerly blue sky was slowly being replaced with layers of violet, saffron and pink hues that were catching on the clouds that had remained. Planets and the brightest stars were starting to appear, and crickets were singing to the coming dusk.

There was a wooden bench of some kind on the porch, hanging from two chains in the ceiling; a cursory examination indicated that his weight would be supported, so Rex took a seat. Exhausted from a day of physical labor unlike any kind he'd ever known, his body sank into the wooden slats and the bench began to rock slightly, the chains creaking in the air. At first he glanced up, wary at the sound, but after a few moments of nothing collapsing under him, he was able to relax.

It was quiet, here.

Beyond the grass that sloped away from the house, he could see a mountain, the one that he recognized from the pic in Brenna's old cabin on the Resolute. The mountain loomed above the landscape, not ominous, but watchful, and its tip was painted in rich gold by the setting sun. Another breeze rifled through Rex's shirt, and he actually felt a bit cold. However, he was too tired to do much more than rub at his bare arms, so he just nudged his boots against the porch and listened to the creaking chain of the swing, the crickets, and the wind sifting through the grass.

“There he is.” Suddenly, Brenna's voice met his ears, her tone lilting in the manner it did when she was speaking to her daughter. Rex turned and watched as the brown-haired woman and the toddler slipped out of the front door and made their way to him. “Kix said he thought you'd gone outside.”

“Rex!” Iri broke free of her mother's hand and scurried towards him, coming to a halt beside Rex's outstretched legs, which he'd braced against the slats of the porch to pause the swing and prevent it from hitting the little girl. “Up? Swing? Please?”

He shot a cautious look at Brenna, who smiled and nodded, so he reached for the little girl; she was more solid than he'd anticipated, warm and small but not so fragile as he'd imagined, and set her beside him on the bench. Immediately, she kicked her legs out, her tiny, stockinged feet barely dangling over the edge, and looked up at him. There was pure delight on her face, which was enough to make him chuckle and tousle her hair. Around them, the wind picked up again, and he wondered if she'd be cold, but Brenna had dressed her in a colorful knitted sweater that looked fairly cozy.

As Brenna sat on Iri's other side, she caught her daughter's attention. “What do you say when someone does as you ask, Iri?”

“T'ank you, Rex,” the toddler replied. As he was reaching his arm up to rest over the back of the swing, she scooted so that she was right beside him and leaned her entire body against his torso, giving a deep sigh of contentment as she relaxed into his side.

Rex was a bit flummoxed for a moment, then Brenna moved closer as well and shot him another, warmer smile. He returned the look, and for a few moments they sat in silence, listening to the sounds of the approaching evening and watching the stars appear in the darkening sky.

Over the toddler's head, Rex and Brenna had been able to sit close enough for her to rest her cheek against his shoulder; as he inhaled the scent of her soap and savored the warm press of both the woman he loved and her daughter at his side, he was grateful.

Because he couldn't help himself, Rex shifted his arm so that he could twine his fingers in Bren's hair, which was loose and still a little damp from her shower. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as her eyes closed briefly in pleasure. When they opened again she tilted her head so that he could discern her mouth forming the silent words: I love you. In response, he skimmed the curve of her cheek with his ungloved hand.

I love you, too, he wanted to say aloud, but the look in her eyes told him that she already knew.

To Be Continued...​

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*****​

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A/N: Thank you for reading! Don't forget to drop me a note if you enjoyed this yard. ​

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Postings for the sequel, Worth Fighting For, will begin next Monday, (May 26th.)​

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Enjoyed the Caith/Rex conversation. Candid and caring. Full of respect thoughtfulness.

The second scene, what I can only call a 'family' thingy on the swing I love the cozy, comfy feel it left me with.

Thanks for giving Rex, and us readers, the courageous, loving, and lovable Brenna. She will always be the lady I imagine him with LOL Totally, even when who knows what part of SW becomes legends

 

@Nyota's Heart: Thanks so much for all of your support! I'm so glad you enjoyed this fic, and I hope you like the sequel, too! ​

 

23-35

Still reading and enjoying these. It's fun to watch how the characters are growing through all of their misadventures.

The way you wrote Tucker was very interesting. I was so glad that Bren behaved like I would expect her to based on earlier chapters and wasn't pining for him. But it was also kind of neat that he wasn't a one-dimensional villain. More of a very selfish child in a grown clone's body who was trying to make everything fit into his personal vision. He seems human without being fully excused, if that makes sense. As much as I wanted to see him get smacked down hard (seriously, stalking her family -- that's horrible!), the way she handled things was totally consistent with her character and the compassion that she has for the clones.

By the way, extra congrats for the writing of that first confrontation. I think I was expecting Rex and Bren to explode at each other like angry teenagers when the truth came out, because that kind of argument based on a mutual lack of trust is so common in stories. Sometimes it makes sense with less mature characters, but it was so nice to see something different that actually shows the strength of their relationship instead. The emotional fallout is there, but they talk it over with actual listening skills and everything. So rare!

Rex's crisis of faith was also very good; I loved that he wasn't ready to leave but realized he wasn't staying for the Republic but for his brothers. The continuing accumulation of wrongness about the Spaartis is very well done. The part where Rex wakes up in the medcenter with dead Spaartis all around, and notices that even the living ones don't give the place the sense of life -- that was really disturbing. His anger with Anakin over the "collateral damage" on Ojom was also wonderfully described.

And I feel really bad for both Rex and Bren missing each other so much. It's adorable that she's going to send him Iri's drawings. So sweet and so sad. It's a nice balance -- they have clearly gotten stronger through the process of building their relationship, but there's also some mourning that they can't be together right now. They seem to need each other in a healthy way, rather than the self-focused way that Tucker thought he needed Bren and Iri.

 

Kahara: Thank you for the comments! I strove to make Bren and Rex's relationship feel realistic without overmuch drama - there's enough of that around them without their adding to it - so your feedback is much appreciated. It would have been easy to make them scream and fight about Tucker, but that wasn't right for either of their characters.

Speaking of Tucker...he became one of my favorite OCs ever. You hit the nail on the head here:

He's immature and selfish, but not, ultimately, a bad guy. He's made some awful decisions, but it was my intention to show him in as fair a light as possible, because he's only human.

As much as I wanted Rex to leave with Bren, that wasn't the right choice for him at that time, and I'm glad that came across. Same with the Spaartis; they're definitely the sign of a new world order coming into play, one that is wholly "wrong."

Again, thank you so much for your insightful remarks! I appreciate each and every one.

 

Squee! I love this story! Rex and Brenna are amazing and I love how you captured all the clones' personalities so perfectly.