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Soon after the incident that was Rishi Outpost, the GAR took up a new habit. It had begun small - no one could be quite sure who had started it in the first place - but it was proving to be completely invaluable to them.
The troopers of the GAR began to whistle. They learned to make bird calls and simulated chirping noises, whistling short tunes to one another across battlefields and landing bays alike. Sometimes, they liked to just whistle random snippets of songs and unrecognizable tunes at one another, just to throw off the droids they knew were listening in an attempt to make sense of this new form of communication.
Fives and Echo had a call all their own. Four notes - up then down, a return to the first and the last the lowest. Echo said the notes were G flat, F, G flat, and E flat. That didn’t mean much to Fives, but it made Echo happy to tell him.
The call said “I’m okay”. It said “on your six” and “go on, I’ll cover you”.
It asked “where are you?” and answered “I’m here”.
For two years, the call almost never failed to get a response. Sometimes they weren’t close enough to hear one another, so they tried again until they heard the response. But it always came.
Until one day… it didn’t.
Fives didn’t even need to whistle to know Echo wouldn’t respond.
Later, after Fives said his daily remembrances, it hit him that he’d never hear the returning call again. No one else used it. Just Echo and Fives.
It had been theirs.
Now, it was just his.
He almost wished he could have seen Echo, at the end. All that had been left was his helmet, scorched and blackened from the explosion. It wouldn’t have been a pretty sight, but then- At least he would have had confirmation. He’d know Echo was gone. This way-
This way his heart couldn’t help but hope.
One day - on a mission - he didn’t even think about it. He whistled, the same, familiar tune he’d always whistled. There were no more droids to tip off their location to, so it didn’t hurt anything. All it did was set Fives off kilter all over again when there really was no reply forthcoming.
Just silence, and the distant sounds of his vode making their own calls to one another.
He started doing it every mission, every assignment, every campaign. An answer never came, and he never expected one to.
Later, he almost wondered if he should teach the call to Tup. Tup had become his best friend, even if nothing would ever fill the space Echo had once occupied. But Tup made his own space in Fives’ life - didn’t take up any of Echo’s. So Fives decided that this too young vod’ika will be his friend. Tup just smiles at him.
He didn’t teach him after all because-
He loved his little brother, but that call belonged to Echo. It wouldn’t feel right, giving it away. And perhaps Fives wanted to be a little selfish, to hang on to the one thing he had left.
He kept whistling.
When Tup died, he wondered again if he should have just taught Tup the call.
He never does decide whether he should have or not.
Miraculously, everything went right, for a change. General Skywalker listened to him about the chips in the clones’ heads. The information is taken to the Jedi Council, who also believed Fives. It was little consolation in the wake of the loss of his best friend, but-
He straightened himself, lifted his chin. He made it through Echo. He could make it through this, too.
Even if it hurt just as bad.
Quietly, the chips were investigated and slowly, everything came to light. The Jedi found out just who exactly ordered the clone army all those years ago, the chips are deactivated and removed, and Palpatine is outed as the Sith Lord.
Fives noticed briefly how Commander Cody held his general for a brief moment as the man realized he’d been given the answer nearly three years beforehand, and had disregarded it. The whole council had.
The scene made him wish for his own best friends and vode who he wanted to hold more than anything.
The war did not immediately stop. The Separatists, of course, still believed the Republic was corrupt with or without the Sith Lords running everything. So the fighting continued for a short time.
*
In what seems to be the last stretch of the war, the 501st is handed a simple mission. It’s on a relatively large scale, but even so, it shouldn’t take more than a few rotations to complete.
They are sent to some planet Fives doesn’t bother to remember the name of where there is a huge Separatist military compound. It’s staffed entirely by droids, and it is believed that there are POWs being held there.
It takes a day to fight their way into the compound, and another couple hours to clear it out completely of droids. After that, they’re finally free to search the cells and rooms and holding areas for their missing soldiers and Jedi and allies.
Oddly, the majority of the place is completely empty.
Fives sticks close to Rex most of the time. His captain doesn’t say anything about it, and really seems perfectly content to keep him close anyway. Perhaps he knows - understands - better than anyone else the kind of hopes that are slowly dwindling with every hallway and corridor they empty of prisoners.
There are a lot of cheers and tears and happy smiles all around. There are also a lot of medics running around. These POWs were not treated well by their Separatist hosts. No one’s quite sure who exactly was in charge of the compound, but it’s pretty collectively agreed upon that if they ever find out, all bets are off.
Fives wants to whistle down every hallway he passes, and he does a few times. Nothing happens, except to hear the call reverberated down the durasteel hallways for a second.
He pretends not to see Rex’s sad eyes flickering to him every time it happens.
As they trudge down the corridor and pass another hallway, a tug in Fives’ chest has him stopping at the opening. This hallway is different, somehow. It’s larger, both in width and height, and goes on so far Fives’ isn’t even sure he can see the next junction.
His throat and mouth are going dry by now, but something whispers at him to try again. To whistle. Just one more time.
If nothing else, he figures, at least this is a good hallway for an echo. He could get to hear the call come back to him for once.
He swallows, licks his lips slightly and-
G flat.
F.
G flat.
E flat.
He puts as much volume into it, pushing the sound into the maybe-endless hallway as far as he can.
He stops, listens as it bounces around the walls and ceiling, floating further down the hallway and back. It takes a solid few seconds for the echoes to die out again.
The sound of it chokes him slightly.
Despite the place they’re in - how much he hates it - the call sounds beautiful. It makes him sad.
Something holds him there at the entrance to the corridor for a beat. Then another.
There are vode passing by him, watching him, looking into the hallway. Someone should go in there and check anyway, but no one wants to disturb him.
Just as Fives is about to turn away, he hears it.
It’s just barely there - just a whisper of a sound.
And- no. It- it can’t be.
He’s vaguely aware of a squad of men who halt in their tracks.
Maybe- maybe he’s just crazy.
But he should still check again.
Shaking slightly, Fives takes a breath and whistles the tune again. He puts everything he has in him into it, making it louder, more insistent.
The echoes die again and it doesn’t take as long this time.
There’s an answer - and honest to gods answer. It’s louder this time, but not by much.
It doesn’t matter.
Fives takes off running.
*
Rex continues walking when Fives stops at another hallway. He’ll catch up in a minute, he’s sure.
Then he hears the whistle. It’s louder this time than it had been any of the others. He pauses, listening. It’s almost haunting the way the four note tune bounces down the corridor.
Rex would never admit it, but it tugs on his heart the way that there’s never a reply anymore. Fives and Echo’s call had always been something of a comfort on the battlefield. It wasn’t something he’d been a part of, but the call and response had always meant his two friends, two of his men and fellow ARC troopers, were okay.
Fives doesn’t return to his side when the whistle can no longer be heard.
Rex is about to grab Fives and pull him along when he notices a whole squad of shinies pause behind the man and stare into the dark hallway as well.
He turns and stares, wondering what had happened. Shinies were easily distractible sometimes, but this had their attention caught in a way that was slightly disconcerting.
Fives whistles again, louder and more forceful.
Slowly, Rex approaches.
This time, he hears it too
A returning four note answer.
Fives sprints into the corridor.
A shiny behind him mumbles, “that’s not how physics works.”
“No time for a physics lesson, boys,” Rex says. “Someone call for Kix and a stretcher.”
Then he’s running after Fives.
*
Fives whistles as best he can as he runs.
His footsteps echo off the walls, making the space even louder now. It makes it difficult to hear the returning whistles.
But they’re still there.
Motion lights light his way down the corridor as he runs, listening for when the answers echo less and less to get to him.
He skids to a half, suddenly, looking around.
He needs to breathe and get himself under control. There was no guarantee it’s- No, it could be anyone. Anyone who knows how to whistle and wants to be found. It’s probably not him. But he needs it to be. He needs to know.
Rex stops abruptly at his side.
Fives licks his lips.
G flat.
F.
G flat.
E flat.
The return comes almost immediately, just a bit further down the hallway.
Fives can’t pinpoint it to one of the innumerable durasteel cell doors lining the walls.
He doesn’t think whistling again will help. The sound carries and echoes too much.
“This is Captain Rex,” Rex says in his Commander Voice. “Trooper, report in.”
The voice that answers is weak, behind a door off to their left. Fives can’t breathe for the full two seconds it takes to hear and register what comes.
“CT-1409 reporting in…”
CT-1409.
CT-1409.
1409.
Echo.
Fives launches himself at the door he’s almost sure the voice came from. He slams his hand against the control panel, hears something crack and snap but it doesn’t matter. The door slides open anyway.
Fives steps into the small cell. It’s cramped and doesn’t smell pleasant, but he ignores that, looks around for less than a second and-
There he is.
He looks so tiny and fragile - small and tired and scared. He’s lost weight and muscle mass, enough that the dirty, ragged regulation blacks he’s wearing don’t actually fit him anymore. His hair is longer than it had ever been, lank and greasy and pushed away from his face.
But despite how different he looks - how much he’s changed and how sick and unhealthy he must be-
It’s still Echo.
There are tears in Fives’ eyes before he can even make it to Echo’s side. By the time he has his vod wrapped up in his arms, the tears are all down his face. It’s all wet and kinda gross and Fives doesn’t care at all. He has Echo in his arms.
His heart had been right, somehow. Fives couldn’t even begin to explain it, but his deepest hopes had come true. Because here he is, Echo, shaking and clinging to Five’s armor as tight as he can. Echo is weak, that’s obvious, but he’s doing everything he can to hold on.
Fives can’t think of a single thing to say.
He sits there on the cold floor in the awful cell, Echo pulled into his lap and wrapped up in his arms. His brother is right where he should be. Right where Fives can protect him.
Some time later (Fives isn’t sure exactly how long), Kix appears with a portion of his medical team and a stretcher. Fives has calmed down enough that it doesn’t take much cajoling to get him and Echo up.
When Fives stands with Echo in his arms, the man is entirely too light. It sends a spike of worry through his chest.
Kix clearly contemplates asking Fives to put Echo on the stretcher. He doesn’t for long. Instead, he nods at Fives and starts saying things and asking questions that he doesn’t quite know how to answer as they walk back the way they came through the compound.
Rex falls into step at Fives’ side, and medics all but forming a guard around them. The other troopers they pass quickly get out of their way.
*
There’s a brief stretch of time where Kix isn’t sure how much they can really help Echo, just all the excitement eventually settles down.
Echo is showered and gotten into a clean change of clothes. The new set of blacks hang off him in a worrying sort of way that Fives doesn’t like.
He’s confined to a bed in the med bay for several days. IV tubes are hooked up to his arms and they’re getting him to sip water when he’s awake. He keeps down the light broth they give him too, which is a good sign.
The first full day Echo’s back with them, Fives doesn’t leave the medical bay for more than an hour at a time, purely so he can shower, change, and eat. He doesn’t go back to the barracks to sleep at night. As it is, he barely sleeps in his chair beside Echo’s bed.
Naturally, he notices the moment Echo’s eyes open in the middle of the night cycle.
He smiles at Echo, getting a weak grin in return. Then, without prompting, Echo whistles four notes at him, quiet as he can to avoid bothering any of their brothers set up around the room.
Fives echoes the tune back.
Once upon a time, he’d never thought his brother being such an echo would save either of their lives. But Echo had saved Fives too many times to count. And for once-
Repeating everything someone said saved Echo.