Chapter Text
Rex wondered if he would ever stop running, because at this point it didn’t seem like it. He thought with him being listed as dead in the Empire’s databases, and setting up shop on a remote planet, he might have been entitled to a little bit of peace to plan his next move.
A blaster bolt shot by his ear.
It was bad enough that the Empire was actively firing at them, but now that they had discovered their base on Teth, their abilities to launch operations to free clones would slow down until they could establish a new home base. It hadn't been easy to come back to Teth after what had happened. Kriff, Rex still had nightmares about the battle, it seemed like an eternity ago, and yet it still ached, like an injury that had never fully healed. Fireball, Nemec, and Samson just joined the long, long list of troopers that Rex has lost on Teth. He thought that losing everyone but 5 of his troops in a single battle would be the worst loss he would have to suffer, and yet he had endured so many horrors since then, Umbara, the crash of the Tribunal —
A loud splash cut off that line of thinking, and he watched Crosshair and that assassin (it had to be a clone, Rex thought, but they seemed more trained, more aware than the other shadows they had encountered ) get washed down the river.
Rex swore, “That river ends in a waterfall, we have to get him before he goes over!”
He got swift nods from the others as they picked up the pace. He noticed that Hunter was holding Omega’s hand, and smirked. Some things never change.
They raced down the rocks, Hunter falling behind due to Omega’s short legs, and Howzer bounding ahead. Rex knows that Howzer has had a tough time adjusting to Crosshair being on their side, but that kid is good and Rex knows he’ll be okay, it just might take a bit.
He sees the assassin holding Crosshair underwater, and hopes with everything he has that Howzer gets him in time. Howzer stuns the shadow, sending him and Crosshair careening towards the drop of the waterfall. Seeing the shadow go over the edge, and Crosshair just barely hanging on to a rock sends a jolt of panic up his spine. I am not losing any more brothers today, Rex thinks.
But how many times has that same thought flitted across his mind, just for another brother to fall in front of him.
In the nick of time, Howzer reaches Crosshair and yanks him up. After spitting and choking out water, Crosshair turns towards Howzer and without much hesitation, coughs out a “Thanks.”
He really has changed, Rex thinks, he can’t imagine the man he met on Skako Minor having a conversation with a reg without verbally (or physically) eviscerating them, and now he’s thanking Howzer.
Jesse would have a field day with this, he thinks with a small smile.
At long last, everyone has made it to the rendezvous point, at least everyone who’s left, and now they just have to wait for Echo.
Rex hears a ship approaching, but there’s a feeling in his gut, a feeling that this situation is not going the way he thinks it will.
“That's not Echo,” Wrecker says, his voice filled with apprehension.
Shit.
The group quickly moves to stand between Omega and the ship, knowing that hiding her is pointless, but they still put every barrier they can between her and the Imperials. He feels Hunter, Wrecker, and Crosshair all tense up, even Howzer’s worry seems to skyrocket.
Rex wonders if Omega knows how much she’s cared about.
He and Hunter move to the front of the group, and Rex pulls out his pistols, hoping, praying he will not have to hurt any more brothers tonight.
The ramp goes down and he curses himself for even entertaining the thought. He sees the squad run down the ramp, in perfect sync, the way that the natborn recruits can never really replicate, and Rex’s heart breaks once again. The white armor reflects the glare of the shiplights, and makes the gray armor of their commander stand out even more. Rex takes one look at that armor and forget breaking, he feels his heart shatter.
It can’t be…no no no, he wouldn’t, he would never harm brothers, he would never harm me, but even as those thoughts race through Rex’s head, he cannot deny what he is seeing before him.
His older brother, his ori’vod is standing before him pointing his dual DC-17s at him, the same DC-17s that he taught Rex with, before he got his own pair.
Rex thought he was ready for anything. He couldn’t have been more wrong.
Rex can’t tear his eyes away from Wolffe, from his brother. He feels the troopers behind him getting more and more tense, he needs to say something, he needs to figure out what’s happening, he needs to know why Wolffe is with the Empire, he needs to understand why his ori’vod is pointing his pistols at him.
He sees the moment Wolffe registers the figure in front of him as Rex, he can see the knowledge hit him like a blaster bolt, see the shake in Wolffe’s ever-steady hands as he lowers his pistols.
“Wolffe?”
And fuck Rex hates the way that Wolffe’s name comes out, so full of caution, lacking all the warmth that it usually has, that it should have.
I can’t do this, I can’t fight him, he’s protected me, he was always there, why is he fighting me.
Never once in Rex’s life did he ever think he would be on the opposite side of a fight as Wolffe.
He needs Wolffe to see him, to know this is wrong, and so he takes off his bucket, trying to school his expression into one that doesn’t look like a fundamental truth of his world had just cracked.
“Rex,” Wolffe says, and Rex taken aback by the sheer familiarity of that voice, that voice that should mean safety, should mean home, should not ever be speaking to him from the other side of a fucking fight.
“I”, Wolffe starts, and cuts himself off, “I thought you were dead.”
That moment, that hesitation, that emotion, gives Rex the slightest amount of hope that he can get himself and Wolffe out of this situation, that Wolffe can break free from whatever influence the chip and the Empire’s brainwashing has had on him.
Wolffe takes off his helmet, and as soon as Rex sees his face it’s as if the whole situation just came into stark focus, it’s his brother, his brother who has been hunting him across the surface of this planet.
After Cody told the rest of the batch what had happened to Rex on Teth, told them how he had lost nearly everyone, was taken captive by Ventress, and how he was overwhelmed by guilt, Wolffe was the first to call and check up on him. When he next saw him in person, he held Rex as he broke down, whispering reassurances that he did everything he possibly could have, that it was war, brutal situations, that were not his fault, happened.
Rex feels sick to his stomach.
“The reports, they said you were killed in action. That you went down on a cruiser.”
As if Rex wasn’t having a bad enough day.
“I did. I lost a lot of good men that day”, Rex says and because he can’t help himself, because he was raised, by Cody, by Wolffe, to be a little shit he continues, “and today.”
He thinks of Wolffe comforting him after losing almost all his men. He wonders if Wolffe knows that he’ll mourn for the men he lost tonight just as fiercely.
“What are you doing here Rex, don’t tell me you're fighting against us.”
And that’s when Rex knows he has to do something. He cannot live in a world where Wolffe thinks he is fighting against him.
“No,” Rex says with as much emphasis as he can, “Not against you. Against the Empire. They’re imprisoning and experimenting on our brothers, they killed others.”
Not for the first time, he wonders if he had just tried a little fucking harder with Fives, if he had believed him, fought for him more, that he wouldn’t exist in this hellscape where he’s facing off with one of the brothers who raised him.
“What? The Empire wouldn’t do that to us,” Wolffe says, his tone filled with conviction that shows just how ridiculous he thinks that is.
But Rex knows Wolffe. He knows him better than almost any other troopers. He sees the flicker of emotion, of doubt across Wolffe’s face.
He needs to convince him to leave now. Force knows if he’ll ever get another chance, so he steps towards Wolffe and begs him “We have to stop them. You can help us. You can stand with us.”
Rex can see Wolffe’s mind flying, and he hopes against everything that the next words out of Wolffe’s mouth will be him agreeing to join them, to fix everything, and to fight the Empire that has already taken too much from Rex, from every brother.
“I am a soldier of the Empire. I have my orders.”
Those words hurt more than any blaster wound. Rex searches Wolffe’s face desperately, seeking some flaw, any break in his expression, to prove to himself that Wolffe is lying.
But Wolffe has always been too stubborn for his own damn good.
Rex can’t help the feeling of betrayal, of helplessness, that spreads through his body, locking his limbs in place, stopping his lungs from working. He knows this is not who Wolffe is, that Wolffe is his brother, fiercely overprotective to the point of annoyance, not this unfeeling man in front of him.
The sound of a ship’s engines breaks him out of his stupor, and Rex turns away from his older brother. It’s the hardest thing he has had to do that day. Rex knows that Wolffe’s squad could easily defeat them, yet Wolffe makes no move to order them to do so, and that’s the thought that makes Rex able to turn away, to leave his ori’vod.
Wolffe has always been known to complete the mission, his sheer determination and ferocity always getting him through what seem to be impossible situations. But willfully letting them go is what gives Rex hope, hope that his older brother is still in there, is still fighting.
Rex doesn’t think that he can bear the alternative.