Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

 Kix hates being useless. Kix hates all of this.

 Tup struggles weakly against his bindings, pain and anger flickering across his face. His hair has come loose sometime between leaving the medical bay and returning to it - not surprising, really. In the intervening hours Tup’s been the lone survivor of a medical transport, been captured by Separatists, and been recaptured by a Jedi, a Captain and an ARC.

 It’s been a long day.

 The other patients from the day’s engagements are all about as treated as they can be. Kix should probably be asleep, but the second transport is leaving as soon as they can scramble the pilots for it. He can keep Tup company until he goes - that’s a bad choice of words - until the transport leaves. He can make sure the sedative is properly administered once the tox scan is done. Hand over to the medic on duty. It’s something.

 The most in-depth tox scan they can manage out here turned up nothing last time. Kix has got the medical droid running it again just to make sure - there’s no telling what the Separatists could have done while they had him. In the meantime, no sedatives in case they react badly to whatever’s potentially already in his system.

 As a result, Tup’s been gradually coming back to consciousness over the last five minutes. The muttering and wriggling is offputting, but he’s not seizing or hurting himself. He’s not lucid, and his vitals don’t improve, but at least his deterioration seems to have slowed down.

 Kix is slumped next to him in a chair, checking reports on a datapad and hating all of this. There’s nothing he can do. He’s pretty comprehensively trained as a medic, but Tup’s vitals just keep dropping further and further from acceptable in tiny increments, and he hates this. It requires specialisation he just doesn't have.

 The medical droid stops humming and straightens. “Scan complete.”

 Kix already suspects that the answer’s going to be of no use whatsoever, but he still sits up and glances between Tup and the droid. “Find anything?”

 Tup frowns at him. “Good soldiers follow orders.” His voice is weaker now. Kix nods, just to acknowledge that he’s heard him. Even if he doesn’t understand what he’s hearing, and likes it less each time he hears it.

 “Expected trace levels of sedative. No other foreign substances detected.” The droid is impassive. “Will that be all?”

 Kix waves it off. Sighs. Wonders if he should sedate Tup now, or wait until the last minute - he might get more stressed and end up hurting himself, or he might get his head together again for a while, might explain something. Might miraculously recover. (Might say goodbye, or leave a message. Sometimes the chance of that is all that Kix can give.)

 (He hates this. )

 “You feeling any better, Tup? Wanna talk?” He even sounds tired to himself. Tup keeps frowning, doesn’t answer. His eyes slide away.

 The door hisses as General Skywalker chooses that moment to appear. Again. He should also be asleep. Kix really needs to just ban him from pacing in and out like an indecisive tooka and send him to rest, but part of him is still somehow hoping that Skywalker is going to wave a hand and pull Tup back from the depths of his brain, or suddenly recall that he learned about something relevant to undetectable murder-inducing ailments at the Temple. (Kix entertains more unrealistic optimism than most suspect, because in his experience the other option is giving up entirely.)

 “It will be done, Lord Sidious,” Tup says, focused and nonsensical. That’s a new one. It’s… Well, it’s not quite as immediately alarming as kill the Jedi, but it still puts Kix’s hackles up. Who’s Sidious?

 (Skywalker’s gone still.)

 “I don’t know who that is.” Kix brushes curly hair out of Tup’s face. Tup doesn’t seem to notice. He pulls against the bindings again. Raises his right hand, like he’s trying to salute. 

 “I do,” General Skywalker says. That’s not a good tone of voice. Maybe Kix should be paying more attention to him. “How does Tup know? What’s - Tup, do you know where Sidious is?”

 Tup’s silent as he looks over to Skywalker. Kix uses the moment of stillness to catch his hand and guide it back down.

 Then Tup snarls. It looks wrong on his face. He’s not shiny anymore, hasn’t been for a long while, but his face is still too rounded - still younger than Kix’s had been at deployment.

 He hates this.

 “Kill the -” Tup growls, and loses track mid-sentence. His eyes shift from Skywalker to Kix, his face goes soft and his tone goes neutral. It’s happened enough times by now that it almost doesn’t hurt. “I - what’s - good soldiers, follow orders, good soldiers follow orders good - soldiers -” 

 “Tup.” He squeezes the hand he’s still holding. There’s no response except the uneven mantra. And it hasn’t worked yet, but maybe this is the time that it does: “Tup, it’s okay. You’re on the Resolute, in the medbay. You’re safe.” He can practically feel the fire of Skywalker’s intent glare. He’s often protective, but this is something else. Kix isn’t fond of it.

 Tup isn’t listening. He’s back in his looped words, unresponsive.

 “Sir?” Tup loses focus and stares emptily at the ceiling. Kix shifts his voice another notch towards authority. “Who’s Sidious?”

 “That doesn’t make any sense.” All he can identify in the General’s non-answer is confusion. Kix catches movement in his peripheral vision as he strides forwards. He’s entirely too aggressive for Kix’s liking; instinct has him on his feet and braced to get between them. Tup’s not an enemy, not a prisoner, but Skywalker has the same look on his face as when they capture a tactical droid.

 “Tup, tell me where Sidious is. Tell me how you know that name.” Kix stops his approach, catching him by the shoulder with one hand and a glare. The General allows it, but he still looms, radiating power. “That’s an order.”

 Tup twists in his bindings and answers with nothing but good soldiers follow orders, good soldiers-

 He can’t just stand here and watch this turn into an interrogation. “Sir.” Kix tightens his grip on the General’s shoulder. He’s so sick of not knowing anything about what’s happening. And Skywalker knows something. (And also he's about one unhelpful response from pulling medical rank, dragging Anakin out of the medbay, and demanding it outright.) “Who is Sidious? What’s going on?” 

 The General’s gaze finally moves and locks with his. “Sidious is the Sith Lord behind Dooku. Behind the whole Separatist movement, probably.” … Okay, not what Kix was expecting. Not something that makes any sense for Tup to know, but why would it? It’s been that sort of day.

 Kix really hates this, but the only way out is through.

 “And why’s Tup talking about a Sith Lord?”

 “That’s a very good question, Kix.” Skywalker’s eyes dart back to Tup, but they’re not quite focused. Kix lets go of him, turns back to his brother. Tup’s head rolls to the left, then the right, further messing up the uneven pillow of his hair. The mantra is still going. Good soldiers follow orders. The words don’t sound real anymore.

 Disoriented. Doing things he would never have otherwise done - killing a Jedi. Nothing showing on any scans. 

 Sith.

 It’s not a virus. Not a toxin, not a stress-related breakdown.

 “That mind trick thing you do. Could Sidious do that? Make it worse?” Kix presses a gentle hand to Tup’s forehead, stilling him for a moment. He can feel faint tremors, wonders if those are yet another side effect or just the exhaustion kicking in. It doesn’t line up perfectly, it should be fading rather than tearing Tup to pieces, but it’s the best fit he’s found for the information.

 Skywalker frowns. “Maybe... Maybe. It has to be, right?” Suddenly the stormfront pressure of his presence is gone, rapidly retreating - he’ll be in a full sprint by the time he hits the corridor. Kix twists.

 “Sir, where are you going?!”

 “To call Obi-Wan!” Skywalker catches himself on the doorframe and turns back, lowering his voice and jabbing a finger towards Kix. “Cancel the transport to Kamino. They can’t treat this. The Jedi can. Get Rex. Get some guards. Keep Tup safe!” 

 Then he’s gone, in a swoop of hair and a clatter of running footsteps. 

 “... That’s my job, sir,” Kix tells his absence.

 For a moment he tries to hang on to the frustration, to make it into an insulator against the dangerous swell of hope. 

 Then he gives up. This is progress, this might be an answer. Tup doesn’t have to go to Kamino, and Kix can’t deny that that’s a weight off his shoulders. He trusts the compassion of the Jedi more than that of the Kaminoans.

 And if it’s a mind trick of some kind, it’s not contagious. He doesn’t have to worry about every other brother who was down there, about his own mind falling victim without warning. Even if Sidious can worm his way in like this - which is horrifying - there’s an exhausted part of Kix that’s guiltily relieved it’s not something he needs to fix. It’s not his failure as a medic that’s been killing Tup. (He hates that there’s nothing he can do to help him, still, but at least now he has more hope that someone can.)

 Well. There’s nothing medical he can do, but - cancel the transport, call Rex, protect Tup.

 He’s not useless.

 He sinks into the chair, lifts his comm, and makes a promise. “We’re going to get help, Tup. Hang in there.”

Chapter Text

 “It isn't a mind trick.” The Iktotchi padawan opens his eyes, drops his hand from Tup’s forehead. He looks perplexed, intrigued - like this is a puzzle instead of a matter of life and death.

 Ferren Barr looks to be about the same age as Skywalker. Kix had wondered, when he entered, if there was a reason he hadn’t graduated to Knight yet. Right now he really hopes it’s because he’s not qualified to make judgements like this.

 “It has to be a mind trick.” It’s not the first time Skywalker’s said that, and he’s lost none of his conviction. 

 The Quermian Knight serving as Barr’s Master hums thoughtfully, two spindly hands still loosely cradling Tup’s head. Whatever she’s doing, it’s smoothed the grimace off his face and calmed the occasional spikes on the monitors. He looks peaceful. Someone - probably Fives - has taken the time to tie his hair up again. (It’s looser than when Tup does it. Maybe it’s so it’ll be more comfortable lying down.)

 General Kenobi hadn’t been available, but he had sent these two in his place and Skywalker had quoted him as saying that Kindee Ya is one of the Order’s best when it comes to minds.

 Ya’s voice is brisk and firm. It’s a contrast to the swaying way she moves and her wide, soft eyes. “And yet it isn't. Ferren is correct - there’s no trace of Force manipulation that I can sense. His mind is wounded, and deteriorating, but I believe the cause to be physical.” Beside Skywalker, Rex shoots Kix a concerned look. Kix keeps his eyes on the readouts.

 The General opens his mouth and she speaks slightly more insistently. “Of course, the Sith are not well-studied in the present. It is possible that this is an unknown technique designed to elude detection. However -”

 The confident voice continues, but he’s only half listening. He’d still be able to summarise the main points later, but it’s half Force vagaries and half speculation about what strategy would lead to the situation they’ve got - General Ya’s conclusion is that it couldn’t be logical, but it doesn’t actually matter regardless, because she can’t find the problem. Because it’s not a Force thing. Apparently.

 He had been so sure.

 Rex clears his throat. “General Ya. If it isn’t Force manipulation, what is it?”

 Ya moves her head in a ponderous circular motion. Kix forces himself to pay better attention. (After all, this is his responsibility.) “I’m not sure. The damage I can sense is similar to the aftermath of intense manipulation of a reasonably resistant mind. Not exact, but closer than anything else I have experience of. I can see why you came to that conclusion.” It doesn't make him feel better. “But there is no corresponding Force trace, and my efforts have no lasting effect. That suggests that the root is physical.”

 Skywalker shakes his head. “None of this explains how Sidious is involved.”

 “I'm aware. I have no answers. Perhaps he overheard the name and has become confused, perhaps he really did encounter Sidious somehow - it's too tangled for me to tell. There are impressions and shadows, dreams and memories, but I cannot make out anything clear.”

 The General goes to speak, but Ya holds up a third hand and overrides him once more. “My recommendation is that you proceed with a medical investigation, as it’s getting closer to what I'd expect from a brain injury as time goes on. Master Allie commands the Mercy, and is nearby - she's as well provisioned as any Republic medical station. I've done what I can to stabilise him, but the effects will return. I'm not sure he'd be salvageable at the end of a trip all the way to Kamino or Coruscant.” She pauses, turns red eyes on her padawan. He nods, for some reason. “Ferren will accompany you, if you'll have him. He's fast approaching his Trials and has considerable skill in mental arts. He can aid with keeping this soldier stable. If a physical cause can be determined and neutralised, perhaps he will be able to aid with recovering memories and regaining lucidity.”

 Skywalker still looks frustrated, but he nods. His voice is strained. “We would appreciate the help. Will you be returning to your former post?”

 “Actually, my assignment is complete. I would suggest that my men and I take on the fight for Ringo Vinda. Your previous transport was attacked. Perhaps taking the entire Resolute will ward off further attempts.” Her tone softens slightly. “Master Tiplee is remaining on this front, and I am a mind healer. I can assist her with her grief. The link to Sidious is worth investigating as fully as possible. I think we can convince the Council of that.”

 Kix breaks off from monitoring Tup when Ya pulls her hands into the depths of her cloak and turns to discussing strategy. He completes the rest of his rounds with careful focus on all the patients he actually knows how to help, and returns just as the Jedi move to leave. Barr’s settling himself in the chair beside Tup.

 Rex steps into his path. “I have to manage the strategy for the handover. We’ll be heading for the Mercy. Take a break, Kix.”

 He shakes his head. “I’m fine.” He had passed out for a while before General Ya’s arrival; he can make it to the end of the shift at least.

 “It’ll be more useful to have you conscious to talk to General Allie.” Rex knows exactly what he’s doing. Unfortunately.

 Kix scowls. “Fine.”

 Rex nods and flashes a sign at the other medic on duty, who nods. The medic also gets glared at for his trouble, and responds by making a shooing motion.

 Kix turns to Barr. “If anything changes-”

 “I’ll inform you.” Absently, he wonders if interrupting people always comes along with specialising in Jedi mind skills, or if it’s just a feature of this particular duo.

 Tup’s still peacefully unconscious.

 Kix really is exhausted.

 When the door opens, there’s a clone standing guard in front of it. Kama, pauldrons, an eel tail down the back of a helmet - Fives, pulling neatly out of the way. When he notices who’s exiting, he visibly hesitates.

 The Jedi probably didn’t pause to update one soldier.

 Rex sighs. “Fives, make sure he actually goes to the barracks.” 

 “Will do, Rex.” Fives waits for Rex to move off before focusing on Kix. “Is Tup-?”

 “Not much change.” The pauldrons aren’t quite stiff enough to hide the tiny slump in posture. It’s probably more the tone than the words - Kix knows he sounds hollow, artificially neutral. It’s his bad-news voice. He can’t seem to stop it. “General Ya did something, stopped his vitals falling for now. Commander Barr is doing what he can to keep him stable. We’re going to meet up with the section of the 91st Recon Corps that’s under General Allie. She’s got most of a medical station installed on her ship.” It’s easy to fall back on summarising facts. Everyone knows they look for steady hands in medics, but they also select for observational accuracy and information retention. Soldiers who keep taking details in and processing them logically, under fire and up to their elbows in blood.

 Fives pulls his helmet off. He looks as crestfallen as Kix knows he should feel. It hasn’t quite hit him yet. He’s shoved the worst of the reaction too far down. “So it’s not a mind trick?”

 “It’s… No. It’s not.” Kix swallows, doesn’t quite meet his eyes. (Marching footsteps grow slowly louder. There’s a group of clones approaching over Fives’s shoulder.) “I made a bad call.” Apparently it’s hitting him now. The realisation has been looping in his head every bit as insistently as Tup’s good soldiers follow orders but it becomes unbearable between one breath and the next. Tup could’ve been on Kamino by now, and Kix doesn’t trust them to be kind but he trusts them to be thorough, and if this delay ends up being fatal, if Allie can’t help either… (Jesse’s supposed to be part of the next guard shift, but Kix can’t see a Republic cog painted on any of the helmets and they’re half an hour early.)

 Fives puts a hand on his shoulder, says something, but Kix doesn’t quite hear it because what he can see are the blue diagonal streaks of Yen’s helmet, and here’s the thing: Yen’s dead.

 Yen died in a dark metal corridor a week ago. Kix hadn’t known him well - he wasn’t Torrent - but he had torn that helmet off his body and looked into blank, unseeing eyes a few minutes before the General had called a retreat. His chestplate had been covered in matching blue diagonals and four neat holes from blaster bolts.

 This chestplate is blank. New. Shiny.

 Fives must see his expression change. He turns, tenses.

 The approaching not-clones stop. There are nine of them. A full squad. Fives, in an impressively casual sort of way, puts his helmet back on. “You must be here to relieve us?” His voice is much less convincing.

 “Yes.” It’s a brother’s voice. The blacks showing at the joints aren’t quite filled out right. The hands are wrong.

 Kix doesn’t have a weapon on him. Or a helmet. The rest of the current guard squad are spread out at even intervals along the corridor, and it’s hard to say if they’ve picked up on the wrongness yet. Some of them are glancing at Fives as they catch the unease, but not all of them. 

 Kix is almost sure, he is sure, but he’s been wrong once today already and-

 Fives draws a pistol with one hand and tosses a droid popper with the other.

 A lot happens in about five seconds.

 The not-clones explode into movement before the droid popper can trigger, pinballing off walls and clinging to the ceiling and leaping for the closest brothers.

 Fives shoots a not-clone in the head as it grabs a brother’s helmet and goes to twist and he’s only just in time. Kix grabs Fives’s other pistol from the holster. Electricity crackles. The charge catches five of the impostors as it balloons to its full radius. The lights flicker. 

 Kix aims for one that’s raising a blaster - it’s the one with Yen’s helmet. The brother it’s going for is launching forwards. The movement means that the droid’s bolt glances off his side ( he’ll need bacta but he’ll live ) rather than hitting the centre of his chest. It narrowly misses the next brother along. Corridor fights are always a nightmare. Kix’s aim has to be precise - his shot makes a scorched hole right between two diagonal blue lines.

 One of the faster clones towards the back tackles a third, jams his blaster into the chin (too far inside the helmet because there’s nothing there) and fires as they tumble down together.

 Fives fires again and clips the helmet on the last one. It spins to a lethal angle. The droid keeps moving, its head too small and loose to have been caught.

 He goes to sweep the legs. The droid jumps to dodge.

 Kix can’t fire straight, too many brothers behind it, so he takes a step sideways for a better angle just as some enterprising soul at the back fires twice and corridor fights are a nightmare-

 The first shot hits the droid in the chest, and the second hits Kix.

 He’s on the Mercy.  

 Kix doesn’t know how he knows. He hasn’t opened his eyes. He barely even knows that he’s Kix, but he knows he’s on the Mercy and he should be calm, everything’s fine, because there’s a voice telling him that and the voice is right.

 “You want the bacta to do its job. Keep still. No need to panic.”

 Kix doesn’t sit up, because he wants the bacta to do its job. He doesn’t panic. His chest hurts like he’s been shot and he’s pretty sure he’s in a medbay which isn’t his medbay and there’s something important he’s supposed to be doing, but he’s calm.

 The lights are too bright. He tries to pull an arm up to shield against them, but someone’s holding on to it. He turns his head instead, finds a blurry Iktotchi outline as his eyes adjust. Ferren Barr smiles at him, and for some reason Kix wants to punch him. Calmly. Barr raises an eyebrow, like he knows, and Kix thinks shove off as loudly as he can. 

 Barr shrugs and steps back. 

 “That’s enough, Ferren.” The new voice is smooth, slightly stern. Unfamiliar. It’s coming from a Tholothian woman in Jedi robes that’s standing at the end of the bed, who trades places with the padawan as Kix finally starts to process his situation.

 That’s General Allie. He’s on the Mercy. He’s been fixed up. He had needed it because he’s been shot. Because commando droids had tried to get Tup. Because Tup’s - yeah.

 Ferren Barr had woken him up with mind tricks and he’ll figure out an opinion on that later, because fine, he probably would have immediately panicked and tried to get up and that would have hurt and made him panic more.

 Also, someone’s hanging on to his arm and yeah okay that’s a Republic cog tattoo, it’s Jesse, that’s normal.

 “Kix, yes?”

 It’s probably not all that professional to have this conversation while Jesse’s using his arm as a pillow, but he doesn’t have a lot of choice. “Yes, sir.”

 “Stass Allie.” She narrows her vibrant eyes at the datapad she’s holding, then hands it to him. He takes it cautiously with his free hand. Even that much weight pulls at his chest until he guides it to a better position. It’s a medical report. CT-6116 [KIX]. “You know what you’re doing, I’m sure. You can sit up, if you’d like.”

 He doesn’t sit up because that would involve getting Jesse to relinquish his arm. He tries, but it hurts and Jesse’s only response is to mutter and cling tighter. (He wonders why General Allie had let him in here.)

 It doesn’t take long to scan through the familiar layout of the report. Most of it was written by a 501st medic, with a few notes at the end added by General Allie after his transfer to her care. The datapad also shows the time. He hasn’t been out for all that long - eight hours, give or take. He probably shouldn’t be awake.

 “Where’s Tup?” She has a second datapad in her hands now. She looks up.

 “Undergoing a phase three brain scan.”

 “Have you found anything-?” His voice drops out on the yet. His lungs don’t currently hold the normal amount of air.

 “No. I want a second opinion from a relevant medic. Are you capable of giving me one?”

 He’s pretty sure he is but raises the datapad again, double-checks what he’s been administered. Nothing listed should have much of an effect on his ability to make decisions - which is sort of weird, actually. He probably should be in a vague fuzzy place right now, not a sharp and honestly pretty painful one. He’s glad he’s not, but there must be a reason.

 “Yes. Sir.” 

 When he lowers the datapad she’s beside him again, close enough to see the shadows under her eyes. “I’m sorry, it’s been a long day - I can reduce the pain, if that’s alright?” 

 She wouldn’t be offering something that would dull his mind. “Sure. Thanks.”

 He’s expecting her to reach for a hypo, but instead she spreads an empty hand over his chest and goes still.

 The searing embers in his chest snuff out under a cool, soothing wave. Kix takes a full breath for the first time since waking up.

 (Why does Skywalker have to specialise in lightsabers and impossible reflexes and shoving things around with his brain?)

 General Allie blinks, folds her arms. “I can still put you under and call one of the others from the 501st, but you’re the one who’s been treating Tup. Yes?” 

  Treating. Trying to treat, more like. He hesitates. “Yes, sir. Honestly, I haven’t figured out anything useful so far. But I’ll do my best.”

 “Thank you. I haven’t - one moment.” Something beeps and if Kix rises up on one elbow he can see the heavily customised monster of a scanning unit in the opposite corner of the room. It has more additional modules than the original engineers probably intended to be used simultaneously, creatively arranged so they all connect. There’s shielding all around it. Kix can’t see inside.

 General Allie grabs one of several readout screens and makes a supremely unimpressed face. “I haven’t figured out much useful yet either. Phase three has given us exactly nothing.” She raises her voice slightly in order to be heard across the room, which is actually almost entirely empty. Ferren Barr has chosen an unoccupied bed near the door to sit at. Fives is curled up awkwardly and still wearing almost his entire kit, halfway between Kix and the scanning unit. Besides Jesse and Kix himself, there’s no one else - no 91st members at all. 

 She paces back, graceful and almost silent. Lowers her voice again. “I want to try a phase five atomic brain scan. I’ve got the equipment. I’ve tried everything else that I can think of except tossing him in a bacta tank to see what happens, and I’m not optimistic about the chances of that working. This starts and finishes inside the skull, and we both know bacta isn’t reliable with brain trauma.”

 Kix blinks up at her and wishes he was having this conversation standing up. Wishes he had his armour. Or fatigues. Or anything more than the bottom half of his blacks, a blanket, and a stretch of bacta and bandages. “It’s risky. He’s already fragile, that could cause serious permanent damage.” He remembers the training on phase five atomic scans, minimal though it was. It’s not the kind of thing that a medbay (or a medic) designed to efficiently get soldiers back on their feet is equipped for. Too expensive and complex and used too rarely.

 But it could potentially provide a lot of information.

 She nods acknowledgement. “I have been able to sense some sort of strange knot on the right side. Focusing on the relevant area will cut the exposure time in half. I’ll monitor him closely and stop immediately if he reacts badly.” She sighs. “And I’m open to suggestions.”

 He tries to extricate his arm from Jesse’s grip again as he thinks. “... I ran out of ideas a while ago. Is he still deteriorating?”

 “Yes. Padawan Barr and I are doing what we can, and between us we could keep him alive for a few days. Without our aid, he wouldn’t make it through the next twelve hours.” She folds her arms again, frowns over at the scanner. “I’m limited by my knowledge. Can’t fix what I don’t understand, and I can’t tell what this is.”

 Kix finally frees his arm from Jesse’s embrace and sits up. “What about phase four? That’s less stressful.” 

 Another nod. She’s straightforward and efficient and it’s not hard to ignore that she’s a General and slip into his usual professional manner, drop the extra formality and the explanations, and leave only familiar, easy respect for another medic. “Scans so far have shown nothing. Not even a shadow where something should be. No scarring, no signs of incision, injection, infection - anything. If phase four doesn’t show anything useful, we’ll still have to go to phase five but with higher risk.”

 “Sounds like you’ve thought this through.” Jesse stirs beside him, raises his head from the bed and blinks blearily between the two of them. 

 “Yes. Still a good idea to run things past someone else, when possible.” There’s an undercurrent of exhaustion in her voice. Kix wonders how long she’s been awake for.

 He hasn’t been trained for problems like this, but she knows that. He’s here, and he’s well-rested in comparison (it counts), and no alternatives come to mind. Time is of the essence. “Alright. Yes. I agree that a phase five scan seems to be the best option available. Can I assist, General?” 

 “Not necessary. Rest.” She raises an eyebrow. “Somehow I suspect you won’t be taking the option of sleeping?”

 “I’d prefer to stick around for the results.” She inclines her head and glides off quietly. 

 Jesse chooses that moment to flick him in the arm. “You got shot.”

 Kix lowers himself back down cautiously. “I noticed.”

 “Stupid thing to do.” Jesse glares halfheartedly at him, and somehow he feels a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

 “Wasn’t on purpose.” 

 Jesse grumbles wordlessly, then cracks far too many joints in a stretch and leans back in his seat. It looks comfier than the ones in the Resolute’s medbay. A lot of the equipment seems nonstandard - it’s an odd mix of familiar and unfamiliar. “Fives said the clankers tried the disguise thing on Rishi, too. There was a second squad, but we got them in time. Couple of injuries, one needed a tank, but no fatalities.” Some of the tension in Kix’s core eases. “Commander Barr helped. Skywalker found the infiltration ship and wrecked it. We jumped pretty fast after that. Oh, and it was a bumpy ride. I’m not sure what we did, but apparently it was so we’d shake any tails.” He pauses. “What else do you want to know?”

 He’s so glad Jesse’s here. But. “How come you’re here?”

 “I asked nicely.” Jesse grins at him, and he snorts. “No, it’s true.” He lowers his voice conspiratorially. “General Allie’s a soft touch, really.”

 “She also has excellent hearing,” she calls from the scanning unit. Jesse looks slightly mortified. 

 “And Fives?” Kix takes pity instead of leaving him to squirm in the silence.

 “He asked too. And both of us have been everywhere Tup’s been. If they find what’s wrong with him, they can check for signs in us.”

 Kix had been doing so well with not considering the possibility that the entire 501st could be doomed. Now that he thinks about it, the empty medbay is probably a quarantine measure. “Right. Makes sense. Rex?”

 “Probably pacing around the Resolute . Haven’t seen him. Oh, he actually might be fielding calls from Kamino.” Jesse’s brow furrows. “They kept trying to get us to send Tup. It’s weird.”

 Before Kix can respond, the scanning unit lights up and hums louder. He closes his eyes and hopes.

 Jesse grabs his hand again, squeezes. How long does a phase five scan take?

 Too long to just lie here. “Help me up.” Kix tugs, and Jesse gets the idea. A few seconds later he’s on his feet with one arm looped around still-armoured shoulders. Considering he got shot about eight hours ago, he feels remarkably functional. Walking is slow and unpleasant and takes far too much energy, but it’s possible.

 Barr saunters over, too. General Allie flicks through something on a datapad between glances at the monitor and doesn’t acknowledge her new audience.

 The main screen shows the outline of Tup’s skull. The brain flickers through colours and shades. Kix has only seen a few scans of this type in his life, but he’s depressingly sure that it all looks normal.

 Tup’s vitals tick down. Phase five scans have a tendency to leave a mark.

 The software makes a soft alert noise. A small section of tissue is highlighted.

 “Ah,” General Allie says. “I knew it was there.”

 The monitor brings up more details, and she shuts off the main unit with a wave of her hand. Kix stares at the new information.

 There’s an answer.

 Jesse shifts his weight. “Is it good or bad?”

 “Don’t know,” Kix says. He glances at General Allie, who’s scrolling through more details on a secondary readout. “It’s some kind of tumour. I… I suppose that could explain the symptoms. Doesn’t explain Sidious, but maybe General Ya was right and he just got confused.”

 “Can you fix it?” Jesse’s steady, and he’ll be steady no matter the answer, and Kix is so glad he’s here.

 General Allie whirls around with much more speed than before and goes striding off, trailing a tensed hand behind her. The table holding Tup is pulled along smoothly by the Force, out of the scanner and towards what looks like an even more heavily modified operating suite. “I can remove it.” The exhaustion is gone from her voice. “Any objections, Kix?” 

 It had been his first thought, too. A surgery carries its own risk, but it has to be the tumour that’s causing all of the problems. Without it, and with a fully stocked medbay and two Jedi, Tup’s got a chance.

  “No. I agree.” He pauses. She’s a Jedi. But then, so’s Skywalker. “Be careful.”

 “Of course.” She sets to work preparing the equipment. Now that Kix can actually see Tup he notes that he’s a little paler than before, but there’s no drastic change. His hair is still loosely tied up. It’s hard not to stare at the spot the scan highlighted, like he might see what’s buried there with eyes alone. “Sit down. This will take a while to set up.”

 Tup’s got a chance.

Chapter Text

 Despite everything, Kix is almost asleep on Jesse’s shoulder when Fives sits down on his other side.

 “You found something?” He’s guarded. Not quite hiding all of his hope, but keeping it controlled and quiet. He’s still wearing most of his kit. (It’s not subtle. He’s bracing for a fight in every way that he can.)

 “Tumour.” Kix doesn’t move. Jesse is still wearing armour but his standards for comfortable resting places are currently extremely low. At least he has a shirt now, and a blanket that Jesse draped around his shoulders. “General Allie’s removing it.” 

 Fives catches the tone: cautious good news. He brightens instantly. “Good. Great.” He directs the last words to General Allie. “Thank you.”

 She glances up from her current set of controls. They’ve chosen the bed closest to the surgical suite to spectate from, so she’s only a few metres away. She’s left the retractable wall open. The side of Tup’s head is shaved - which he might actually get the chance to be annoyed at - and the keyhole anchor is set. The extraction itself should only take a minute or so, once she starts it. “Don’t thank me yet.”

 “We’re not out of the water,” Kix warns. 

 Fives waves a hand. “We know where the surface is.” He scrubs a hand over his face, and when he drops it his eyes are narrowed. “Wait. What about Sidious?” 

 “Good question.” Kix and Jesse answer in unison. Fives sighs.

 “Starting the extraction.” General Allie moves to Tup’s head. He’s been still and silent all this time, calm. Not quite a relaxed rest, but not the shuddering grimaces of the hours before General Ya’s arrival.

 She puts one hand on the other side of his head and a spindly metal arm moves to the keyhole and whirs quietly. Her vivid eyes close, and she dips her head and breathes deep. Her silence has a presence of its own, pressing outwards and muffling other noises.

 Kix straightens, tries to distract himself by wondering if she’s using the Force to control some elements or letting the machinery do it autonomously. Jesse’s already hanging on to one hand, and Fives clasps the other now.

 Every second drags, but the important moment itself is oddly anticlimactic. One heartbeat the clear tank on the arm is empty, and the next it has a tiny bloom of blood and a thin ribbon of tissue suspended in it. Something beeps. The arm retracts. Stass Allie stays perfectly still. Tup’s vitals don’t even stutter. 

 “Is that it?” Fives is shifting forwards, moving to stand.

 Barr materialises out of seemingly nowhere at the end of the bed and shakes his head. “Something’s wrong.” 

 General Allie’s faint frown deepens. The heavy silence is torn as a monitor beeps urgently, and half of the lines spike or dive. Blue things go red. He’d need a specific scan for a proper diagnosis, but with the details he’s got… Brain hemorrhage? Something like that. Rapid onset. Too rapid. Kix feels suddenly lightheaded.

 After all that. After all that?

 Barr moves forwards, takes the hand that General Allie is stretching towards him, and puts his other palm against the shaved side of Tup’s head.

 General Allie tilts her head, eyes still closed. “I’ve got him. Come on, kid. Hold this.”

 “I’ve got - yes. Should I-” It’s the first time Barr’s sounded out of his depth.

 “Just hold. I’ve got the rest. I know. It’s alright. Quit that. You’ll be alright.” She winces. Kix can’t make out what’s directed to who - she snaps and soothes by turns and sometimes lands in the middle. If Skywalker’s presence is a threatening storm, this moment feels like a whirlpool, drawing inwards and downwards and wrapping itself around one specific point. There’s a pattern to it. It tugs and he’s on his feet, moving in tandem with Jesse and Fives, mentally compiling what he should be doing and suspecting it won’t be enough and unsure of how to coordinate with and work around whatever it is that the Jedi are attempting with their bare hands and their minds, if that’s even working, and keeping track of the swooping lines and numbers -

 Oh.

 It’s working.

 Some of the vital statistics have stopped their drastic fluctuations. As he watches, they begin the first steps back towards normal.

 (Kix has never wanted Jedi skills like he wants them now.)

 But the heart rate keeps climbing. Tup twists suddenly, trying to escape the hands on him, eyes closed and teeth bared. Barr twitches, and his voice slurs like he’s drunk. “It’s our voices. He thinks - we’re - a nightmare? Something to do with Pong Krell?” Kix feels his own heart skip in time with Tup’s, suspects that the same happens for Jesse and Fives. “ Ssstop panicking. Please.”

 Fives is next to Kix one moment and the next he’s beside Barr, folding one of Tup’s hands in both of his and speaking low and earnest. “Hey, brother. It’s alright. They’re just medics. You’re fine. Come on, Tup. Listen to me. We’re safe. You can relax.”

 They’re all crowding in, but through a gap in the bodies Kix sees the moment when Tup’s eyes flicker open.

 Everyone freezes. Tup blinks hazily up at the three people crowding in around him, focuses on Fives. His expression loses some terror and gains some confusion. The heart rate stops climbing, hovers. After a few moments, it starts to slow.

 General Allie opens her eyes and grins with steely satisfaction, voice so low it’s a whisper. “Much better.”

 Barr sways on his feet and then drops into a graceless seated position on the floor. Tup doesn’t seem to notice either of them.

 Kix braces for - he doesn’t know. A twist of fury. For Tup’s eyes to roll back in his head. For the monitors to show another sudden drop or spike. For the next setback, the next disappointment. For things to go wrong.

 “The - the mission’s over?” Tup’s voice is weak. (It’s a good thing Jesse’s still wearing gauntlets, otherwise Kix would be breaking his hand right now.)

 “What mission?” Fives leans over Barr to get closer.

 “You - you know the one. The Jedi. They betrayed us. Like Krell.” Kix feels Jesse tense again. “We - everyone. It’s a priority. They’ll - we have to - we had to kill the Jedi. It’s over?” There’s no aggression left, just disorientation and an edge of fear. He doesn’t sound convinced of himself.

 General Allie steps backwards with a frown. Tup seems to actually process her existence and jerks away, eyes wide.

 Fives grabs his shoulder. “No one betrayed us. This isn’t - Krell’s dead. Has been for a long time. The Jedi just pulled some kind of tumour out of your head. It was confusing you. Almost killed you.”

 Tup looks between General Allie and Fives. “I’m free?” A smile breaks slowly, shaky but genuine. “I’m free.” Every word is a little stronger. “What happened? I - oh.” His voice gets muffled as Fives pulls him up into a hug. Behind him, some of the red numbers and lines finally finish their journey back to blue.

 Kix releases the breath he’s been holding. His chest hurts again. He sits down heavily.

 “I’m really glad you’re not dead.” Is Fives going to cry? Kix can support that idea. This has been a nightmare of a day. Two days. Whatever it is by now.

 “Me too.” Tup wraps his arms around Fives, uncoordinated but managing. “But really, what happened? I’m - I’m having trouble. Is this the Resolute?”

 “This is the Mercy. 91st Recon Corps. That’s General Allie, she’s in command. Commander Barr is on the floor,” Kix supplies.

 General Allie nods from where she’s detaching the sample tank with the tumour in it. Barr waves awkwardly from the floor, which does precisely nothing to help Tup, and shuffles slowly sideways so Fives isn’t in danger of stepping on him. Tup barely manages to peek over Fives’s shoulder at the bed Kix and Jesse are on.

 “Hey, Jesse. Hey, Kix.” The dark eyes widen. Focus. “Did you get shot?” 

 “Yeah.” That’s probably an inappropriate point to grin at, but Tup’s lucid. Tup’s holding a conversation and there’s no tumour in his head and his vitals look downright acceptable. “I’m fine. How’re you?” 

 “I’ve got a headache, and if - ow, if Fives doesn’t let up he might crack a rib, but I haven’t been shot. Wait.” He pushes Fives away, stays sitting up, and here’s where it goes wrong, here’s what Kix had been foolish enough to stop expecting. Tup looks horrified. “Did I - General Tiplar, is she-?”

 The medbay goes silent. It’s answer enough.

 “Oh.”

 Fives is the first to find words. “It wasn’t you. It was that thing in your head, Tup, you can’t - you didn’t choose to...”

 Tup blinks. “But I did kill her.” 

 “We’re not gonna let anything happen to you. You didn’t do anything wrong,” Fives insists, low and sincere. He intentionally relaxes the clenched fists at his sides. Kix wonders if that promise is going to end up impossible to keep. There’s so much they don’t know yet, so much that’s out of their hands.

 Tup’s voice is distant, almost thoughtful. “Dogma didn’t.” Case in point. Jesse inhales harshly and Fives’s fists tighten again. Kix winces. He tries not to think about Umbara, as a rule. “And General Tiplar didn’t actually betray us.”

 Barr hauls himself upwards before they can go down that particular road. Tup flinches back from the sudden extra presence. “We think perhaps someone ordered you to do it.” He doesn’t sound as calm as before - whatever he’d done to help stabilise Tup has had the opposite effect on him, but he remains intent and determined. “What do you remember about Sidious?”

 Tup stares at him and says nothing. 

 Barr isn’t patient. “You talked about a Lord Sidious. Acknowledged commands from him.” Kix goes to stand again. They shouldn’t be pushing for answers until they know what the tumour is and Tup’s - honestly, Tup’s remarkably calm right now, but that doesn’t mean Barr gets to grill him until he’s not. Jesse exerts far too little effort to keep him seated.

 It’s for a reason. General Allie steps forward again. Behind her, a smaller scanner hums. The tumour must be in there - Kix is losing track of the details. “Padawan Barr.” Her tone carries a slight rebuke. Barr loses some of his intensity instantly. (Kix formally decides that he likes General Allie.)

 His voice is more intentionally gentle, cordial. “I understand that this is an overwhelming time, but if you can remember anything at all about Sidious, it’s very important to share it.”

 Tup’s brow furrows. “I - right. Yeah. I think he gave the order. Or he should have. That’s… That’s all I remember. I can’t… It all disappeared. It’s gone.” He pushes the heels of his hands into his eyes for a moment, but the gesture doesn’t bring any clarity - he shakes his head. “I’m sorry. I wouldn’t - I don’t know why I followed it, it didn’t make any sense.” 

 Fives clasps his shoulder again but Ferren Barr, professional interruptor, keeps going. “May I examine your mind? The faster I do it, the clearer the memories will be.”

 Fives rounds on him. “Is this really the best time?” 

 “To potentially uncover a Sith Lord? Yes.” 

 Tup glances from one to the other and then grabs Fives’s wrist before he can do anything regrettable like punch an apprentice Jedi. On the bright side, the distraction seems to be keeping him from spiralling over shooting General Tiplar or talking about the last time he was involved in taking down a Jedi. “Okay. Sure. If I can help, I - I owe it. How does that work?”

 General Allie clears her throat before Barr can speak. He pauses, then defers, moving out of her way so she can sweep in.

 “I would like to check you over before Padawan Barr does anything further. You can sit up. You may feel slight pressure. Is that alright?”

 Tup resettles himself so he’s sitting properly on the edge of the table, surer now of his movements. “Yes, sir.”

 She raises a hand and cups the shaved side of his head gently, closes her eyes. Tup’s remain open and faintly confused.

 Kix sympathises.

 A moment later, General Allie steps back again. “Alright. Nothing else has gone wrong physically, at least. Padawan Barr, you may proceed with caution and permission only.” She pauses, waits for Barr to stop staring at Tup and make eye contact with her. “And at least make an attempt to explain.”

 “Yes, Master Allie.” Barr takes up his position again, almost humming with half-suppressed curiosity. “This will feel strange. You will remain aware of the present while I attempt to search for recent, relevant memories - you might be aware of which ones I’m focusing on, or it may not be noticeable at all. It will be easier for me to work if you don’t shield or attempt to force yourself to remember anything in particular. Just… Relax. There will be no lasting effects. Is that acceptable?”

 Kix isn’t sure whether he’s talking to Allie or Tup, but Tup nods.

 Barr raises both hands and holds them on either side of Tup’s head, hovering without making contact. He goes still and quiet. Tup mostly just looks perplexed, still glancing around the room. After a few seconds, he brushes fingertips over the shaved section of his skull and pulls a face.

 Fives chuffs a laugh and gets glared at.

 That corner of the room seems stable. Kix glances at General Allie, who is once again pulling up readouts - much more detailed info about the tumour itself, this time. The text is large enough for him to read back here.

 Nothing should surprise Kix anymore. “It’s synthetic? That thing was built?”

 General Allie nods without turning. “Very unique design. It’s all biological. Some structure to hold programmed information and some layers to bind to and interface with the rest of the brain. Makes it very hard to find. The bonds between the layers are what failed first, I think. It was degrading rapidly.” She drags a hand over her face and then drops it to the console slightly too fast. She’s exhausted, he suddenly realises. Healing Tup didn’t literally knock her over like it did Barr, but it certainly took a toll.

 It’s one more thing to keep an eye on. There are a lot of things on that list at the moment.

 He narrows his eyes at the slowly rotating hologram. “It’s a chip?” That actually makes sense. Tup had information - orders that no one present gave to him. Attributed to a mysterious Sith Lord, if Tup’s right, but free of any trace of the Force. If they came from inside his head, that’s one question answered and many more in its place.

 “It’s a chip,” General Allie confirms. Like something to steer a droid. A machine, programmed and set to a purpose. Kix hates this, but this time he can do something about it. The information could be here. They just have to find it.

 How did Sidious get a chip into Tup’s brain?

 He stands again, eyes locked on the holo, and this time Jesse takes half of his weight and helps him along. “But there were no signs of implantation. That’s been in there for a while. Pre-deployment. Pre-war. Kriff, probably in infancy to have left so little trace.” He halts midstep.

 “Kix?” Jesse is taking more than half of his weight now. Kix has nothing to reassure him of. This is much worse than the entire 501st being compromised, if what has begun to take shape in his mind is correct.

 “You have to scan the rest of us.” His breath catches. His chest is on fire again. He can still breathe, but whatever General Allie had done to mute the pain is fading fast. “Troopers in your battalion too. Everyone you can get a hold of. Kamino doesn’t do unique.”

 “You think the Kaminoans implanted it?” General Allie turns to face him, cautious but not dismissive.

 “Maybe. But if whoever did this had access to one of us then they had access to more. And maybe it was them.” Jesse had mentioned something that sounded odd. “They keep asking for Tup, right? Maybe they were paid to sabotage us from the start and now they’re trying to hide it. They’d know how. Scan us. Right now.” How far does this go?

 General Allie steps forwards and raises a hand, presses it gently to the right side of his head. Steady indigo eyes meet dark and fervent brown. She’s taller than a standard clone - a fact which is made more obvious by the way he’s currently held up only by Jesse and willpower. “I know what I’m looking for now. Let me try before we start potentially dangerous atomic scans. Stay still, please.” Her eyes shut.

 There’s an odd pressure in his ears for a moment. The room feels too empty, too full. His blood pulses steadily. Allie’s warm, callused hand is lightyears away and yet it’s the only anchor in the universe. The silence has presence, weight.

 The pressure draws and folds in on itself, not painful but certainly not comfortable. It centres on a point deep inside the right side of his skull. When Allie opens her eyes, the awareness of the point lingers. Her mouth is a displeased line.

 “Hm.”

 He already knows. “I have one too.” 

 She nods, and tilts her head to Jesse. Before she can ask, he leans forward into her reaching palm. Kix feels that sense of pressure again, but much fainter.

 Allie drops her hand. She’s almost swaying on her feet. “Yes. It’s - different. You two, yours are the same, but they’re not obstructing the way Tup’s was. Probably still functional, and - inert. They’re inert.”

 Inert. His thoughts are his own.

 Tup speaks up. His voice is still hoarse, but he’s so much stronger than before. “If a broken chip made me kill a Jedi, what does a functional chip do? I mean. If it does the opposite - if it makes us protect them, that’s -” he glances between the Jedi, then seems to give up looking for more palatable words, “- well, terrifying. But not as bad as making us executioners.” There are so many branching awful possibilities, multiplying with every moment as Kix tries to map them out.

 Barr sighs deeply and straightens up from where he’s been poised, shakes his head. “There was a very insistent imperative to terminate Jedi for treason.” Tup’s face crumples slightly, and Fives draws him into his side protectively. “The name Sidious has resonance, but I can’t find anything specific aside from the impulse that his orders are to be followed. Everything was incomplete, corrupted. I assume the missing information was on the chip itself. Echoes might remain, but nothing I can catch at present. Perhaps my Master could.” He looks around, sombre. “But there was no mistaking the intent. I am certain that the chip’s clearest and most coherent purpose was to enforce an order to kill Jedi.”

 Well, that’s some of the possibilities gone. Unfortunately it leaves the darkest ones, and there are still far too many of them.

 General Allie moves back to Fives and Tup, raising a comm as she goes. “Neyo, could you bring yourself, Chord, and Razor to the medbay, please? Quarantine is no longer in effect.” Her steps aren’t as steady as before and Kix almost jolts after her before realising he isn’t going anywhere without Jesse’s help. He probably shouldn’t be standing.

“Yes, General. General Skywalker is also requesting entry and a report.” 

 “If he must. I’ll update him in here. Thank you, Commander.” Fives dips his head as she places her hand against it.

 Kix goes to sit down on a bed that’s apparently actually several meters away and is only saved by Jesse being fast enough to catch him.

 “Hey! You alright? Did the General actually heal you or are you on meds that just wore off?” The answer is neither, or maybe both, but Kix isn’t really thinking about that particular problem right now. 

 “We’re gonna have to do so much brain surgery.” He tries to run through the logistics and gets stuck. Can they fabricate the type of keyhole anchors needed for the surgery in a standard medbay? They’re going to need thousands. Millions, if every single batch has chips. Will they have to hide this from Kamino? How are they going to hide it? 

 If the chips are inert, could they activate at any time?

 And why, for the love of all that makes sense in the universe, is a Sith Lord the one who apparently has the authority to activate them? How did any of this happen?

 Jesse shuffle-carries him back to the bed and sets him down. “We’ll work it out.”

 “We would never have even noticed they were there. I’ve treated so many head wounds. That thing’s invisible.” The world feels distant again. Jesse tilts his chin up - checking his pupils are alright, probably. He has no recent head trauma to worry about, but he’s probably acting disoriented enough to warrant it. Kix shakes off the gentle grip. “I’m fine.”

 “Right.” Jesse doesn’t sound convinced. “We’ll manage somehow, okay? We don’t have to solve it right now.” Concern is written in every crease of his face. “Do I need to get General Allie?” 

 Kix focuses on him, takes a moment to make sure he’s actually not going into delayed shock or anything. “No. I’ll be fine if I don’t move around.” Jesse holds eye contact for a long moment before giving in.

 Behind him, General Allie hums as she drops her hand. She gives Fives a sombre nod. He has one too. That’s all of them.

 There are three age batches represented here, and they’re all compromised.

 It's horrifyingly reasonable to assume that every clone in the GAR is compromised.

 Kix hates this.

Chapter Text

 “We should get Rex.” Jesse squeezes Kix’s shoulder in a silent apology. “This is a lot to say over comms. I can fetch him. That’ll be the leadership all in one room, they can figure out where to go from here.”

 Kix nods. The concept of handing this all over to someone else is as terrifying as it is essential. It has to happen as soon as possible - their current situation is far too precarious. The only people in the whole galaxy who know are confined to one medbay. This needs to spread.

 But if it spreads to the wrong person, everything could go up in flames.

 In times of crisis, Jesse does better when he has something to do that’s not sitting and waiting - he’s gone too quickly, and Kix folds his arms and tries to think. Before he can get further than there are far too many unknowns here , there’s a flurry of noise just outside - a brief exchange of voices before Skywalker appears in the doorway Jesse just vacated.

 “Tup!” He’s delighted, almost jovial. Five minutes behind the current conversation.

 “General?” Tup’s still tucked into Fives’s side. He still doesn’t look great, but it’s a vast improvement over the last time Skywalker saw him. He’s conscious, for one thing. Kix wishes distantly that the minute of euphoria had lasted longer.

 “Good to see you’re doing better. Master Allie, you found the problem?” She has her back to him, and Fives is shooting her a concerned look. She’s standing too still. Skywalker picks up on it after a moment. “Is everything alright?” 

 She rallies and turns. (Kix wonders how many Force-scans she can do before she falls over.) “A moment, please. I need to check my men. Kix can update you on what we’ve found so far.” Three 91st troopers have just entered in Skywalker’s wake and she makes her way carefully towards them, steady enough for the moment.

 “Kix. Do you feel up to summarising?” Skywalker’s looking at him expectantly, impatiently.

 He opens his mouth to speak, pauses. There are still so many gaps. What’s the most coherent way to tell what they do know?

 Skywalker steps forward. “Everyone from Kindee Ya to the Chancellor is invested in this now, and I haven’t been able to tell them anything. So. Whenever you’re ready.”

 Tup jolts. Fives looks down at him, concerned. Kix starts to answer as he glances at them, getting as far as “well, sir-”

 Tup bolts to his feet and it’s only Fives that keeps him from immediately overbalancing. Every person in the medbay snaps their attention to the sudden movement. Tup’s staring at Skywalker with wide eyes. “Sidious,” he almost hisses.

 The medbay is instantly quiet. The only sound is the heart monitor still synced to Tup. (It’s picking up speed again.) Skywalker narrows his eyes. “Sidious?”

 “Palpatine. Palpatine is Sidious. He’s - he’s the one who gives the order.” Tup’s shocked, desperate, certain.

 It takes a moment for the statement to even begin to sink in.

 The Chancellor is a Sith Lord who’s behind the Separatists and he can make the entire Grand Army turn on the Jedi.

 For a long moment, all Kix’s analytical mind can come up with is thunderous white noise. 

 Skywalker’s face falls and he looks from Tup to Kix to General Allie. “I - I thought Tup was better. Why is he-”

 Tup pivots to face Barr. “Check my mind. Tell them.”

 Barr’s eyes are glittering. Without missing a beat, he raises both hands and drops into yet another strange Jedi scan state. The medbay stays hushed for the long seconds before he raises his head.

 “Palpatine is Sidious,” he agrees, with vague surprise that’s morphing into odd, tenacious delight. “His voice is locked in as an identification. I can hear it. It’s him.” He grins, all teeth and satisfaction, and Kix understands him less than ever. “We’ve got him. The Chancellor of the whole Republic is the Sith Lord.”

 Tup’s sure. Barr’s sure. Kix is sure, too. The knowledge slots into place like he’s remembering it rather than learning it.

  Kriff. This can’t be happening, but it is. And he has no idea what to do about it.

 Skywalker scoffs, confusion turning quickly into frustration. “That’s impossible. I was just speaking to him. He’s as concerned as any of us about the potential Separatist infiltration.”

 “Was he told that Sidious was mentioned?” General Allie calls from the other end of the medbay. She’s leaning against a bed and has her elbow resting on a grim Neyo’s shoulder. It’s probably so she doesn’t have to hold her own arm up to sense the chip she’s inevitably going to find in his head.

 The General scowls defensively. “No.” General Allie lets out a breath, the release obvious from across the room. Kix adds another item to a mental tally of far-too-near misses. “I wanted to wait until we had a solid answer. Why are any of you entertaining this nonsense? Tup killed a Jedi! He’s clearly confused.”

 Tup shakes off Fives and advances, somewhere between standing at attention and squaring up to fight. “I’m not confused, General. I shot General Tiplar on his orders.” He’s fierce.  

 Some shadows stretch a long, long way. 

 Umbara’s something that Kix tries not to think about. He can’t always avoid it - there’s no way to entirely banish the vivid nightmares of screams too far away to reach and arms around him stopping him trying, Jesse’s wide eyes as Kix aimed at him, Waxer choking on blood and betrayal and echoing, inescapable guilt. There’s no way to get through a day without his awareness catching on the gaping, silent space where Hardcase isn’t. Where he never will be again.

 He tries. He’s been carefully not thinking about the other time that the 501st had killed a Jedi for a while.

 But right now, Tup is snarling and it’s a perfect recreation, unavoidable - an image lifted directly from the darkest night in the shadowy forest as Rex had formed up the survivors to go after Krell. 

 This isn’t the first time he’s been made an executioner or used as a weapon against an ally. He has experience.

 Tup, Kix realises, baited the last would-be Sith that made him a murderer straight into an Umbaran monster’s grasp and then stunned him himself.

 And that had been his first deployment.

 Fives steps forward to stay beside him. “Sidious is Palpatine.” There’s no trace of doubt in his voice. “He wants the Jedi dead. We’ve all got control chips in our heads with his name on them. Sir.”

 The General falters for a moment. “Chips?”

 Fives presses the offensive gambit, all sharp, forceful gestures as he speaks.  “He’s controlling both sides! And now he’s sitting in his office keeping the secret and watching us all fight and die, waiting for a good reason to make us turn.” Kix winces, anticipating the reaction.

 There it is. Aggression meets aggression as Skywalker’s hesitation melts away. “This is ridiculous. Chancellor Palpatine is a politician, a trusted friend - he isn’t the Sith Lord.” 

 They don’t have time for this. There are too many ways for everything to go wrong. He’s going to make it worse, but something terrible has occurred to him. “Sir,” Kix says. Skywalker’s turning to face each speaker like a cornered animal now, getting angrier each time. “Did you tell him where we are?”

 “What’s that supposed to mean?! He’s the Chancellor, he has authority over the whole army!” Kix’s breath comes short. He absolutely told him.

 “General.” He would love to be wrong.

 Skywalker’s all righteous indignation. “He asked. He was concerned about us relocating the whole 501st for the sake of one soldier. Which is a perfectly valid thing to question!”

 Fives jumps to where Kix is heading. “They waited to intercept the transport first, then they got impatient and infiltrated the Resolute. How desperate are they by now?”

 “The Chancellor isn’t betraying us, Fives! And Trench has no way of tracking us here.” He takes a breath, lowers his voice slightly. “We have time to work out what’s really going on. There’s no need to jump to outrageous conclusions. What chips are you talking about?” 

 The door at the far end of the room opens again as the three 91st troopers leave in a hurry. Stass Allie starts to move back to the knot circling Anakin, trailing a hand along the edge of each bed to keep herself upright and aligned.

 Her voice is still level, though it’s heavy with fatigue. “Alright, Skywalker. We’ll lay out the facts as completely and clearly as we know, as soon as your Captain is present. If you’re correct, we shouldn’t be interrupted. If we are interrupted, our troops are already readying for transport and will set off the moment anything seems amiss. Just to be safe.”

 That’s comforting, but there are still too many moving parts to keep track of. Every time one potential threat is squared away, Kix realises another exists. “Hang on. What if Palpatine - realises we know something? We’re all compromised.” Allie reaches the group and moves across, standing beside him. Not having to project his voice as far is a relief. She looks concerned, and he thinks he recognises the coexisting emotions of being worried about what he’s talking about and that particular medic-specific concern of something’s wrong, which hypo do I need? (He really wouldn’t mind painkillers right now. His brain isn’t working great as it is.)

 It can wait. There are more important things to deal with first. “He might activate the chips. We don’t know why - why he hasn’t yet. If all it takes is his voice...” What kind of priority comm clearance does the Chancellor have? How many battalions can he transmit to simultaneously?

 Millions of clones turning on thousands of Jedi.

 It’d be a massacre on a scale he doesn’t want to comprehend.

 Allie nods. The thought has occurred to her, too. Her gaze flickers to Skywalker. “I’ve sent word. And Knight Skywalker holding back should buy us some time.”

 The General doesn’t appreciate being talked around - he’s reaching a boiling point, ready to snap, almost shouting. “What kind of word have you sent, Master Allie? Acting against the Chancellor is treason!” Kix regrets pushing, desperately hopes that Jesse’s almost back with Rex. There are too many competing potential crises, and the one inside the medbay just keeps increasing in threat. He’s suddenly sure that they won’t get the chance to try to solve the bigger issues if they can’t deal with this one here and now.

 Skywalker’s loyalty is one of his greatest strengths. When his own people are in danger, loyalty fuels him, drives him. It makes him almost unstoppable. All of his considerable power is bent to single-minded purpose and he carves blazing, reckless paths through hell and high water and improbable numbers of foes if someone he has a personal duty to is on the other side. He’s dangerous and inspiring in equal measure. And he’s unpredictable.

 Kix can’t find it in himself to wish that he’d just drop it for once now that it’s working against them. An Anakin who could do that so easily wouldn’t be the General that Kix himself is loyal to.

 Someone has to get Skywalker to realise the depth of the betrayal and deception at hand, and Kix can’t find the words. Everything hurts and the Chancellor is a Sith Lord and there’s a chip in his brain that can make him an executioner. The fatigue is not combining well with his frantic attempts to figure out how to triage this whole mess.

 Allie holds Skywalker’s gaze for a moment, weighing. When she answers, her voice is measured and smooth. “Neyo is encrypting a transmission to Master Windu. He’s on Coruscant and is also a General of this Corps. If we’re being monitored somehow, it should attract less attention than me doing it, or calling the Council directly.” Jedi must value attention to detail in medics too. Kix relaxes slightly despite himself. Someone who isn’t on the ship knowing is a relief, and the leader of the Jedi Council is a good option.

 General Skywalker is less appreciative. “You can’t just set Master Windu on the Chancellor without evidence!” He’s stalking forward and Kix has no idea how to stop whatever’s about to happen. He’s out of reserves. Barr’s no help and Tup’s still furious and Fives is unusually still. 

 “We have evidence.” Allie sits down next to him. It’s a simple de-escalation technique, or else she’s just that tired - either way it halts Skywalker’s aggressive advance towards her. Breaks his momentum. His clenched fists unfurl, and he glances around at the others. Barr’s sitting on the surgical table bracing his head on his arms. Still exhausted, though his hard eyes dart from person to person with focused intensity. Kix meets Skywalker’s eyes steadily, silently willing him to see. Tup still looks ready to grab a blaster and kick down the doors of the Senate building, by himself if need be.

 For a moment, Fives looks ready to join him and Kix is achingly certain that he’s going to do something impulsive and brave and doomed. But he’s an ARC. He specialises in the unexpected.

 There’s a note of appeal in his eyes. The loyalty runs both ways - he isn’t willing to leave Skywalker behind just yet. “We need your help, sir. Just - just listen to us.”

 Jesse and Rex come striding through the door and Kix is so glad to see them. Jesse’s frown is visible. Rex is helmeted, but Kix still catches the sharp jerk as he picks up on the tension.

 Skywalker's loyal to them, too. He doesn’t exactly look peaceful, but he steps to the edge of the rough circle and sweeps one hand in a sharp continue gesture. “Fine,” he says. “We’re all here. I’ll listen. This better be convincing.”

 That’s good enough.

 In an office on Coruscant, the Chancellor considers a job well done.

 The probability of a defective chip had been so very, very low that the Kaminoans had offered to formally guarantee that it would never happen in an active unit. Of course, that would have been a visible and unnecessary trail to the chip so it had never been officially established, but it’s a somewhat amusing thought that one malfunctioning clone trooper could technically have allowed the Republic to sue and bankrupt Kamino. All of their careful manoeuvring in the Senate, and their greatest achievement could so easily become the vehicle of their downfall. Years of machinations could crumble because of one implausible fault in one insignificant pawn.

 It’s less amusing to think that that could apply to him, too.

 But it won’t. Kindee Ya is still at Ringo Vinda and her apprentice hasn’t made Knight yet. He never will. He’s probably, at this moment, quite dead.

 Even if he somehow found the flawed chip, and somehow decoded enough information to make an identification, the force that was sent to wipe out the 95th Mobile Recon Corps is more than large enough to destroy the Mercy and everyone onboard. It also has the capability to jam the communications of a reasonably well-equipped planet, cutting out the possibility both of transmitting any relevant information and of coordinating a retreat. Stass Allie is the type to try to run, but she won’t have had the time.

 Anakin will find a way to survive if he’s as lucky and skilled as he usually is. If not, well. Most of the time, the war is like Dejarik. Reliant on observing every detail, adjusting strategy, and applying each piece according to its role. Any one of them can be sacrificed. The whole plan isn’t worth one potential apprentice, powerful and useful though he is.

 Each game brings its own little joys. Today was more like sabacc. He doesn’t know exactly what his opponents have in hand, but he can play the odds and make his bets and he’s confident that this one will pay off. The factors at play justified potentially losing Anakin. 

 Order 66 can wait - must wait, really. It’s a trump card that he can only play once, and today hadn’t warranted it. There’s still so much fun to be had, so much power he hasn’t been granted yet. Every day of war makes his future Empire’s foundations more secure, after all. Every day spreads the Jedi thinner and pushes them to further compromise, seeds desperation and disillusionment. Every day the bonds of loyalty between the clones and their generals grow stronger, and the prospect of their eventual betrayal increases in potential.

 The Force will feast on that harvest. It flourishes with every day of conflict that pours blood and suffering and hate into it, but the day the war ends will change it forever.

 Nothing so grand will happen today. In half an hour or so, either his current apprentice or a Jedi Master will confirm that the 95th have been largely destroyed, and with them the defective clone. The loose end will be burned off, and no one will be the wiser. The consequences can be neatly woven into other ongoing strategies. Stass Allie’s death will push a few more Masters a little closer to breaking, put yet more pressure on the Temple, and remove an irritatingly effective diplomat from the field. If Anakin must be lost, then among many other effects Kenobi will surely be pushed in interesting directions - but he’s getting ahead of himself.

 Someone is approaching his office. Multiple Jedi, it seems. The attack on the 95th has concluded earlier than expected. He locks his presence in the Force further away and reads the next few lines of the Senatorial report on his desk. 

 The door opens. Palpatine turns in his chair. Mace Windu is the first to stride in. Tonight that elusive, tantalising hint of controlled anger is glimmering close to the surface. He’s a General for the 95th as well, and has served on the Council with Allie for years. 

 Palpatine has never had much hope of corrupting him. But perhaps this grief will be a useful weakness.

 He has a number of other Jedi accompanying him. Unfortunate. It suggests a larger loss. At a guess, Anakin is gone - perhaps the entire 501st with him. The Republic will have to be stabilised in some way to keep the oncoming loss in morale from becoming anything unmanageable.

 Palpatine gives the group a mild smile. “Master Windu. To what do I owe the pleasure? I wasn’t informed of any upcoming meetings.” 

 All four of the Jedi reach into their robes. Windu’s eyes don’t waver for an instant. There’s no trace of grief in the Force. “In the name of the Galactic Senate of the Republic, you’re under arrest, Chancellor.”

 Blades ignite, purple and green and blue.

 … Ah.