Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Why’s it feel like every damn Seppie planet we go to is dry and dusty and karking hot?” Fives grumbles, kicking a dusty red rock the size of his fist into a pile of larger, dustier rocks. 

Echo barely glances at him, helmet moving back and forth in a way that’s clearly intended to look like scouting, but means he’s probably just reciting reg manuals in his head, or whatever it is he does when he’s bored. Well, Fives is bored too, which is why he’s been trying to get Echo’s attention for the past ten minutes, because what are vode for if not entertainment? 

Besides, it’s not as though there’s actually anything to scout. For all the hours they’ve been walking, they’ve only seen more of the labyrinthine canyons and ravines that seem to make up the entirety of the planet. Every twist and turn presents more towering walls, layers upon layers of dusty, crumbling strata telling a story that no one except half of the 501st Legion is here to see. 

“Maybe Dooku’s got a thing for ‘em.” Echo finally says.

“A thing?” Fives frowns, then recoils, concerned. “Exactly what kind of thing, Echo?” 

“Whatever you’re thinking, Fives, is on you, not me.”

Fives shakes his head. “You’re weird.” 

“And you’re gross.”

“You’re the one who said Dooku had a thing for dusty planets!” 

“And you’re the one who’s interpreting that as a gross thing.” 

“How would you know what I’m interpreting it as if you aren’t thinking it too?” 

Echo ignores him again, twisting to look into a narrow crevice as if it’s going to be any more exciting than the dozen other crevices they’ve passed. 

Fives elbows his brother. “Well, vod’ika?” 

He can practically hear Echo’s scowl, and grins when his shoulder gets shoved. “Gar vod’ika,” Echo snaps. 

“Shebs,” Fives says as he returns the shove.

Echo jabs him in the ribs. “Di’kut.” 

“C’mon Echo,” Fives laughs, “how else would you think about it?” 

“Maybe as a sentimental thing!” Echo says defensively. His shoulders are up at his ears, and there’s a tension in him that wasn’t there before. 

Sometimes Fives forgets that, for all that they are batchmates — vode who were raised together and trained together — and now the last two of their squad, they don’t really know each other half as well as they should. Back on Kamino, when they were still cadets, still Domino, Fives spent his downtime with Cutup and Hevy more than Echo, and Echo would usually be with Droidbait. They’d gotten closer towards the end of training, and ever since Rishi they’ve been stuck together like glue, but they’re still learning how to be friends. 

Fives changes tack. “Dooku’s darjetii, though, which means he used to be jetii, so wouldn’t he have grown up on Coruscant?” 

If there’s one thing he knows for certain about Echo, it’s that he likes facts. Intelligence, information, strategies, and algorithms, all of those were Echo’s favourites as a cadet, and joining the 501st has only exacerbated his feelings — the Captain in particular delights in Echo’s strategic mind. Fives always preferred the more active lessons: hand-to-hand, weapons training, mechanics, explosives. That’s probably half the reason him and Echo didn’t quite connect as cadets. 

Echo’s helmet is turned to him, but he can only imagine what kind of look he must be receiving. “I don’t think all jetii grow up on Coruscant,” Echo says after a moment. “General Skywalker didn’t.” 

“Yeah, but General Skywalker’s the exception to every rule,” Fives points out.

Echo tilts his head to say yeah, that’s fair. 

The conversation peters out after that, and Fives silently curses himself for being inattentive. Now he’s bored, and his vod is mad at him. Great. He’s not even entirely sure where he went wrong. With nothing else to do, he goes back to pretending to scout, looking for something he isn’t convinced exists. 

A few days ago, the Resolute had picked up an audio-only distress signal, begging for help. They’d naturally assumed Separatist involvement, and immediately set to tracing and following the signal, which led them to this nameless Outer Rim planet. But Intelligence had been unable to obtain any sort of timestamp, and when the reconnaissance teams had determined their data inconclusive — that is, they shrugged and said “We honestly don’t know, the planet seems uninhabited” — the General decided to set the 501st down to see what was what. 

Troopers weren’t made scouts for nothing — they were expected to have the best eyes and ears, be able to infer as much information as possible from the smallest amount of data, so that the rest of the battalion knew as much as they could about whatever they were walking into. If a scout tells you there’s nothing there, it’ll be because they’re right. 

However, no amount of kaminii interference has made the clone troopers any more Force-sensitive than their progenitor, at least not in the 501st. As soon as General Skywalker stepped off the transport, he apparently collapsed under the weight of… Fives doesn’t know, really, the Force and all that jetii osik has never made much sense to him, but the General collapsed, and now they’re scouring the planet quadrant by quadrant looking for “anything out of place.” 

Fives rolls his neck, looking up to a wide, shockingly blue sky, dotted by only a single small cloud as far as the eye, and the HUD in his helmet, can see. He can’t shoot a cloud, no matter how out-of-place it might look, even if it is the only change he’s seen along this mind-numbingly long stretch of canyon. 

He rolls his shoulders too, swinging his arms and cracking his wrists like he would after a training session. What he wouldn’t give for a good old spar right now, even a classic fight-for-your-life against a creature bigger and tougher (but not better) than him. He can see Echo looking at him again but can’t quite tell what his vod is thinking behind that visor. He isn’t sure if Echo is still mad or upset, and he doesn’t feel like poking that bear, no matter how much he’s itching for a fight.

He keeps running through the post-training motions, as many as he can while walking through a canyon in full kit, and it’s when he twists his upper body to the right, where Echo is walking and still clearly looking at him, that he sees the door. 

“Echo,” he says, throwing an arm out to stop his vod in place, “do you see what I’m seeing, or is the heat finally getting to me?” 

It’s a stupid comment, clones are engineered and then trained to withstand environmental extremes of all kinds, but Echo doesn’t mention it like he usually would. He simply turns, hackles up, only to pause when he sees — well, Fives assumes it’s because he’s seeing the door. It’d be a bit hard to miss, if not for the fact that Fives and Echo were about to walk right past it. 

A large slab of rock has been cut out of the canyon wall, and it stands slightly ajar in a way that is not suspicious or ominous whatsoever. There are no markings anywhere, and if the door were shut it would probably vanish into the wall. But it’s open. Open at such an angle that it’s impossible to see what’s inside but open all the same.

Fives looks ahead, then back the way they came, but the rest of the canyon seems just the same as before — a long endless stretch of dusty red rock. With a door.

“Well,” Echo says, “that’s not suspicious or ominous whatsoever.” 

Fives snorts, an involuntary action that’s over before he can stop it. He’s ready to apologise, explain, but then Echo is laughing, and Fives is laughing too, and if it’s a touch hysterical the only people who will ever know is them. 

He thinks the heat might be getting to them. 

They pull themselves together eventually, finally thinking to call it in. Fives squishes up next to Echo so they can both be seen over the commlink in Echo’s vambrace, and he knows he’s forgiven for earlier when instead of shoving him off, Echo just shifts a little to make room. 

“Troopers,” Captain Rex says, “Fives and Echo. Please tell me you boys found something?” He’s helmetless, his little blue holo face creased in frustration, and the sight quickly puts a damper on any leftover levity they felt. 

“You’re in luck, Captain,” Fives says. 

“We’ve found a door cut into the wall of this canyon,” Echo continues. “It’s standing open, but we can’t see inside from where we are. There’s no indication of recent passage, except—” 

“One moment we couldn’t see anything different, the next there’s an open door,” Fives finishes. “It looks karking heavy too, we shoulda heard it open.” 

The Captain’s frown deepens. “Certainly something,” he says, low enough that Fives isn’t sure they were meant to hear. His eyes dart to someone on his left before returning to Fives and Echo, and with a sharp nod he straightens to attention in such a way that dares them not to follow suit. 

They follow suit. 

“We’re going to ping your commlinks to get your coordinates, and then I’ll lead a team down to investigate this door. You two—”

“Permission to scout ahead, sir?” Echo interrupts. 

Fives is grateful his helmet hides the look of disbelief he shoots his vod, but the Captain’s stands out clear as day. Echo interrupting a commanding officer? And not just any officer, but Captain Rex, almost as universally worshipped among clones as the Marshal Commander? 

Fives corrupted his vod’ika somehow, he just knows it. 

“It- It’s just,” Echo stammers, as if realising what he’s just done. “It’s just, we’re already here, sir, and we, I—”

“We want to do more for the Five-Oh-First, sir,” Fives says. He puts his hand between his vod ’s shoulders, out of view of the holo, and Echo relaxes into it imperceptibly. “We’re already here, you have our coordinates, and we’ll call as soon as we find anything of note. Please, sir, we’re ready for this.” 

Captain Rex narrows his eyes, as if to stare his troopers down, but acquiesces with a nod and a sigh. “Very well. Anything of note, I want to hear about it. Am I clear?” 

“Sir yes sir,” they say in unison. 

There’s an odd look on the Captain’s face, but it passes before Fives can figure it out. “I’ll be there shortly. K’oyacyi, vode.” 

“Oh, Captain!” Fives says. “Update on the General?” 

The Captain shakes his head. “No change. Commander Tano has been restricted to the Resolute and is calling General Kenobi for assistance, but that’s all.” 

Fives sighs. “Okay, thanks Captain. K’oyacyi.”

“Thank you, Captain,” Echo adds. “K’oyacyi.” 

With one last nod, the Captain’s holo flickers out, leaving Fives and Echo alone again in the canyon with the door. 

Fives steps back, turning to face the door. Something about it just doesn’t feel right — it sends a chill down his spine, makes his knees feel wobbly in a way they haven’t been since he was very small. Except it’s just a door. Just a kriffing door, and not even the biggest he’s ever seen. In fact, it’s rather small for a creepy door. 

He feels Echo step up beside him and leans against his vod ’s shoulder. For all their differences, he is unbelievably grateful that Echo is still here beside him. He doesn’t know what he would’ve done if he’d been the only one of Domino to survive. 

“Shall we?” Echo says. 

Fives straightens back up and nods, hoping to invoke Captain Rex with the action. “Let’s go.” He pulls his DC-17 from its holster and takes point, hears Echo do the same as he falls into step. With barely a moment of hesitation, they slip through the door. 

They are immediately enveloped in darkness. Fives reaches back for Echo automatically, only relaxing when his vod ’s left hand closes around his right. 

“Well, isn’t this a great start,” Echo mutters, squeezing Fives’s hand for reassurance. 

Fives squeezes back, takes a deep breath, and begins to venture forward. It’s so dark inside the canyon wall that his HUD can only pick up the barest differences between walls, ground, and the empty in-between. He can’t see anything else — there’s no footprints, no tracks of any kind, and the dust doesn’t look as though it’s been disturbed for years. Maybe centuries. 

He was feeling vaguely uneasy before, but now he’s downright terrified. Training on Kamino is designed to make cadets feel invincible, so that when they get thrown on the battlefield at eight, they don’t have a panic attack first thing. Fives wonders if he’s having his first panic attack, or if this is just how nat-borns feel when they get scared. 

Against his training, he turns around to look at Echo. Even through the darkness, Fives can tell Echo is freaking out too. His shoulders are trembling, and his breathing is heavy over the in-helmet comms. Or maybe it’s Fives’s own, he can’t tell at this point. He squeezes Echo’s hand, and only turns back when he gets a squeeze in return. We’re alright, it says, because we’re together.

The passage appears as never-ending as the canyons outside, which isn’t surprising, but Fives kind of expected to find a series of them, maybe a hidden city of beings, or hidey-holes for creepy crawlies. He thinks about his earlier wishes for a monster battle and is unwittingly reminded of the Rishi eel that took Cutup all those months ago. He suppresses a shudder, feels Echo squeeze his hand again, returns the gesture.

Then, Echo tugs his arm sharply, pulling him to a stop. “Ke’mot,” Echo whispers, so quiet that their comms only just pick it up. 

“Me’bana?” Fives asks, following his vod ’s lead. 

“Ashnar shekemi.” 

Fives looks around slowly, not wanting to alert whatever — or whoever — is following them, his gaze moving from over Echo’s shoulder to further down the passage, but he sees nothing. Just more rock and dust. “Tion vaii?” he asks. 

Echo shakes his head slowly, and Fives can almost hear the gears in his vod ’s head turning. “Ni nakar’mi… ni aala…” His shoulders tense, and he straightens up slowly. “Ke mhi ba’slana.”

They share a glance and a nod, turning back in a synchronous motion so Echo is point and Fives is behind. They move together, one step, two steps, and then the ground is shaking beneath them, a violent motion that sends them stumbling into the walls. Fives tightens his grip on Echo’s hand, holding on for all he’s worth, as some unseen force presses down against them. 

He can feel tendrils of something worming its way under his armour, under his body-glove, sinking into his skin. He tries vainly to shake it off, can feel Echo doing the same, but nothing budges. It digs deeper, even, and although he’s only ever felt his bones when they get broken, he could swear the whatever-it-is is wriggling right down to his marrow. 

Just as suddenly as it appeared the feeling is gone, and Fives slumps down to his knees, gasping. Echo is right beside him, leaning heavily on his back, or maybe he’s leaning against Echo’s front. They press into each other, desperate for a familiar touch. 

The ground is still shaking, canyon walls trembling, dust swirling on a non-existent breeze, and Fives knows what’s going to happen next. He tries to brace, but it’s futile — he’s ripped off the ground, torn away from Echo, sent flying back through the passage, back back back did they really walk that far it didn’t feel like that far are they even on planet anymore what about— 

There’s a burst of light, rumbling rock, cracking plastoid, and—

—|/O\|—

Rex tries not to panic when Fives’s commlink stops transmitting, but it’s harder when Echo’s stops too. Panic is never conducive to the mission — one must keep a clear head at all times, especially when in charge of half a legion of troopers conducting multiple missions across an unknown planet. He takes a deep, quiet breath, holds for five seconds, then breathes out for seven. He does it a second time for good measure, ignoring the approving hum he gets from Kix behind him. 

He should’ve said no, should’ve told them to wait for backup, for the more experienced members of the 501st. He knows better than anyone what it is to be ignored and dismissed by trainers for not being up to snuff, to have to fight twice as hard for the same opportunities as your vode. He understands needing to prove yourself, being willing to do anything, to jareor, no matter what others think. 

He should’ve said no, but he didn’t, and he can only hope for the chance to rectify the mistake. 

It’s around 1600 standard, but here the system’s star still looms high and large in the sky, slowly roasting the planet and everything on it. Fives and Echo have been the only team so far to report anything other than dusty red rock and deep, twisting canyons, and now they’ve gone and vanished. Rex hates to give up on a mission, it goes against all of his training, and technically if there’s a lead to follow then he has to follow it, but… he isn’t sure he wants to. 

Ever since the General collapsed after barely touching the planet’s surface, he’s had a bad feeling stirring in his gut. He doesn’t know much about jetiise or the Force, but he knows how to trust his instincts, and years of training combined with dozens of campaigns and battlefield experience across the galaxy have honed his instincts well. 

His instincts are telling him to run. 

Someone jabs him in the shoulder, and he can tell by the direction and sheer force that it’s Kix. Rex takes another deep breath, then another, shoving his thoughts to the back of his mind. 

They’re out here now, there’s nothing to be done for it. Whatever Fives and Echo find will determine their next course of action, but there’s no use thinking about it until Fives and Echo themselves are found. 

“How’re we lookin’, boys?” Rex says. “See anything?” 

There are twin responses of “Nothing to report, Captain,” and Rex once again shoves away his panic. 

“We’re getting close to their last-known coordinates,” Lieutenant Jesse says, “but there’s nothing here. I don’t see a door, or any kind of—” 

When Jesse doesn’t continue, Rex looks over at him, sees him standing stock-still, datapad in hand, staring at the ground. Kix walks up next to him, touching his shoulder cautiously. 

“Jesse?” 

“Their tracks are gone.” 

“What?” 

Rex looks down. They’d been walking in the direction of the coordinates, and when they’d stumbled onto two sets of GAR-issue boot tracks making a clear path through the ever-present dust, he had taken it as a sign they were getting close. Even when the comms had gone dark, they’d at least been assured that Fives and Echo had to be up ahead somewhere. 

He’d been too wrapped up in his thoughts to notice when they stopped. And not stopped as if they’d sat down to take a break. There are no signs of movement off to the side, no signs of a scuffle. There’s a left print, a right print, left, right, left — and then nothing. 

Rex looks back up, sweeps his gaze across the canyon, checks over the walls to look for something door-like. “Have we reached their coordinates?” He runs his hands across the layers of strata, peering behind every rock pile and boulder in the way. 

“Their tracks stop a single point off from where we pinged them,” Jesse says, “which is weird since that means either they moved forward a couple meters without making any tracks, or all this wind disrupted only those couple meters of track and not the rest of them.” He shakes his datapad, as if jostling it might help the situation make sense. 

There’s been no wind to speak of whatsoever, as far as Rex is aware. When asked about environmental changes, all troopers reported back negative — every klick the men walked has been hot and dry, with endless blue sky and air that is unsettlingly still. 

For there to have been a short, concentrated gust of wind in this canyon and only this canyon is — well, not impossible, Rex learnt a long time ago that nothing is impossible, but highly improbable, certainly.

“Captain,” Kix calls, his voice tight. 

“Kix,” Rex answers, walking over to his medic. 

Kix raises his arm, pointing at something further into the canyon. “Is that what I think it is?” 

Roughly a couple hundred meters away from where they stand, from where Fives and Echo’s tracks end, there’s a white something reflecting starlight, almost headache-inducing in its brightness, even with the aid of the helmet HUD. 

Rex’s heart just about stops. Jesse comes up on his right and inhales sharply. 

They walk towards it as a unit, hopes sinking lower and lower the more they see. 

White plastoid armour, complete with distinct and familiar blue markings, is scattered across the canyon as if exploded outwards. There’s a vambrace here, a spaulder there, all of it enough to make up two whole troopers. The piece that Kix spotted is a cuirass, mostly white except for the blue handprint pressed over its right pectoral. 

“Echo,” Rex murmurs. 

Kix hangs his head and Jesse spins away with a curse, punting the first rock he sees in a fit of rage. It ricochets off the far wall, rolling to stop behind a boulder and causing someone to groan. 

Rex turns to the sound on instinct, drawing his DC-17s and taking point while Jesse and Kix automatically flank. He quickly battlesigns for them to let him approach first and they both sign back affirmative, falling back while he moves forward. He steps over the armour, rounds the boulder guns first and— 

How many surprises is this planet going to give them? 

When he stops, shock evident in his movements, Jesse and Kix move to flank him again, and Kix gasps. 

“How the kriff did two cadets get all the way out here?” 

It’s been a while since Rex has been back to Kamino, which means a while since he’s last seen any clone younger than eight, but he knows these verd’ike are nowhere near old enough to be on a battlefield. Their brown skin is unmarked by any of the tattoos or scars that troopers always pick up, dark curls still in the close-cropped regulation cut, and they look less than half the size of a standard clone trooper graduate. 

He also knows that the 501st hasn’t gotten any more shinies since — well, since Echo and Fives. 

Rex looks back to the scattered armour, then down at the two cadets. They have their arms wrapped around each other, each wearing body-gloves several sizes too big for them. They’re both barefoot. He looks back up, spots a single boot lying on its side near a cuisse, and another upright beside half a belt. He looks down at the cadets again. 

“Captain, that’s impossible,” Kix says to his unspoken thought. He knows they watched him look back and forth, that they would come to the same conclusion. He knows that it’s impossible. Highly improbable. 

“Highly improbable,” he says, “because nothing’s—”

“Nothing’s impossible,” Jesse snaps, “except this, because Echo and Fives were at least eight standard and these cadets look barely five—”

“Echo and Fives are eight,” Kix interrupts, “and these cadets are closer to three than five. Trust the medic.” 

Rex doesn’t need to see Jesse’s face to know that he’s scowling viciously, but before a proper fight can break out between them Rex steps in to shove them off. “None of that matters. Something has happened to Echo and Fives, whether these cadets are them or not. If not, then they’ve shown up here somehow, and it’s our duty as vode to keep them safe while we continue to investigate.” 

Kix and Jesse look at each other, clearly glaring through their visors, but they both step back, nodding to their captain. 

They don’t have enough hands between the three of them to carry two unconscious cadets and two full kits of armour, and there isn’t really time to call in more. Although Rex doesn’t like it (practically speaking, it’s an indication that clone troopers were on the planet, specifically 501st clone troopers, and anyone else who might pick up the signal could be led straight to them; personally speaking, it’s Echo and Fives ) they decide to leave most of the armour, only taking the helmets with them. It’s the most they’d usually pick up when they could, for remembrances, and hopefully they won’t need them anyway. Hopefully Echo and Fives will show up, armour-less but excited to tell all about their daring adventure. 

Hopefully. 

—|/O\|—

Rex, Jesse, and Kix arrive back at base camp — which is just a series of brown canvas tents spread across a small plateau, the only place wide enough and flat enough for them and their transports — without further incident, the cadets still out cold. Jesse and Kix take the cadets to the medical tent, which sits at the ‘front’ of the camp for ease of access for returning troopers, and Rex heads to the command tent in the centre of the sprawl. 

He sends out a comm as he goes, telling all troopers not to go investigating any weird doors or caves or caverns they come across, to keep an eye out for Fives and Echo, and to continue reporting back with anything else they find. The helmets get left with the quartermaster in the supply tent, who accepts them with a solemn nod, before he finally enters Command. 

Most of the ground space of the command tent is taken up by portable computer terminals, all being used to either keep track of the in-field trooper squads or research and report on the planet. The long-distance holotable sits at the far end, and that’s where Rex goes to call the Resolute. He intends to alert them of the situation and check in on his General but gets swept up in conversation when he finds Skywalker awake. 

General Skywalker and Commander Tano have determined with General Kenobi that the planet likely suffered an extinction-level event, and what Skywalker felt was the echo of trillions of beings crying out as their lives were cut short; the implication there being that the extinction was not a natural one, but an inflicted one. 

“Is that something we should be concerned about?” Rex asks. 

“Not in the sense that you’ll be killed simply by standing on the surface, no,” Kenobi replies, “but I would recommend leaving as soon as you can. There’s likely nothing good left.” 

“That’s actually the reason I called, sir.” 

Rex tells the Generals and Commander what little he knows about the incident with Fives and Echo, and the discovery of the cadets. He also, after a moment of hesitation, tells them about his thoughts regarding the possible connection between the cadets and the missing troopers. 

“I know it seems impossible—”

“What do I always tell you, Rex?” Skywalker says. “Nothing is impossible, just highly improbable.” 

“And I believe you got that from me.” Kenobi raises a brow at his former padawan, but Skywalker just shrugs. “I’ve not heard of such an incident occurring,” Kenobi says to Rex, “but then, we’d not heard of this planet until today, so I wouldn’t take it off the table. Are the cadets awake yet?” 

“I haven’t heard anything from Kix, sir, but I plan to check up on them ASAP. I’ll call you back once I’ve done so.” 

“Go now,” Skywalker says, “We’ll be standing by.” 

Rex nods, saluting before he flicks the comm off. 

He ponders as he walks. Kenobi didn’t seem overly concerned about the nature of the extinction event, and Rex supposes that, since it happened so long ago (they still hadn’t been able to obtain a timestamp on the distress signal, but it’s hardly uncommon to find messages decades and even centuries old just pinging around the galaxy because no one’s picked them up yet) and they are currently in the midst of their own war (and this clearly isn’t another Separatist invasion), he can’t blame the General. 

But he also thinks about a door, hidden in a wall, probably triggered by a hidden tripwire or a steppingstone, and the troopers who investigated that door only to — vanish, maybe, or… 

When he reaches the med-tent, the cadets are missing. Jesse and Kix are helmetless and whispering angrily, jabbing each other in the chest, but they stop and stand at a rigid attention when the Captain walks through. 

He eyes both his vode in turn. “Where are they?” 

“We don’t know, sir,” Kix sighs. “They were fast asleep on the cot, I turned to put something away, and when I looked back, they were gone. I don’t what he was doing,” he gestures at Jesse, who smacks his hand with a scowl, “but neither of us saw them leave, and we don’t know where they might’ve gone.” 

“This only happened a few minutes ago, sir, they can’t have gone far,” Jesse adds. “It’s not like there’s really anywhere to go.” 

Rex shakes his head, sighs. “Alright, spread out. Let the men know we’ve got two cadets on the loose, and if found they must be brought to the command tent and watched, with full attention, until I can get back.” 

“Sir yes sir!” 

In retrospect, he should’ve known something like this would happen. 

He ends up finding them himself, but it’s still an inconvenient, panic-filled twenty minutes as all camp activity pauses to hunt down the runaway verd’ike. 

They sit huddled beneath a transport, between the landing gear and the ramp, located at the edge of camp. With the star finally starting to set at 2100 standard, shadows stretch dark, nimble fingers across the barren plateau, and just about swallow the cadets if one doesn't catch them at the right angle. It’s a good hiding spot; if Rex hadn’t been so worried about them, he’d be impressed. 

He knows they’ve seen him coming when they scramble over each other trying to get out of their hole. Instead of running like he expects them to, however, they stand to attention, salutes and all despite how violently they’re trembling. The temperature is dropping rapidly now that the planet is entering its night cycle, and the cadets are only in oversized body-gloves, but he doesn’t think that’s the reason. 

“At ease, verd’ike,” he calls out, and although they obey, they don’t seem to calm down any. “You aren’t in any trouble, and we’re certainly not going to hurt you.” That helps a little, he thinks. They look at each other, then back over at him, and one of them steps forward ever so slightly so he stands in front of his vod. The other doesn’t protest this move, but he does roll his eyes, and Rex suppresses a grin. All ori’vode are the same, it seems, and all kih’vode too. 

Rex comes to a stop in front of them, and then kneels so he’s at their level. Jesse thought they were five standard and Kix said three, but now that he sees them up close, Rex thinks they’re closer to a nice round four. Adolescence is still at least a year out, but there’s enough muscle definition that they’ve been started on the more intense training modules, and the way they hold themselves means they’ve been hanging out with the older cadets more than the younger ones. 

“So,” he says, looking between them both, “you wanna tell me what happened?” 

They look at each other again, and the one behind, the one most likely a kih’vod, nods to his ori’vod. 

“We don’t know what happened, sir,” the ori’vod says. “The last thing we both remember is falling asleep in the barracks in Tipoca City, and then we woke up here, in that tent.” 

“We didn’t desert,” the kih’vod adds, “we can’t have if we don’t remember doing it.” 

“I believe you,” Rex says before they can work themselves into a panic. “Like I said, you aren’t in trouble.” 

The ori’vod nods, though it seems less out of agreement and more to appease Rex. “Do you know how we got here, sir?” 

Rex shakes his head. “Sorry, verd’ika, I don’t. But we’re going to figure it out.” 

“Sir?” The kih’vod asks. “Where are we? And… who are you? Are you an ARC?” 

That startles a laugh from him. “No, I’m not ARC, but I wear the kama and pauldron because I was trained by ARCs. My name is Rex, Captain of the Five-Oh-First, and we’re on an unnamed planet in the far Outer Rim.” 

The cadets look at him blankly. 

“What’s the Five-Oh-First?” 

Rex frowns. If they hadn’t heard of him, he wouldn’t be surprised (he’s not exactly Marshal Commander), but the 501st has become rather legendary, and not just because they are commanded by the ‘Hero with No Fear’, Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker himself. And even if they hadn’t heard of the 501st specifically, they should recognise a legion of the Grand Army of the Republic. 

“What are your CT numbers, boys?” 

The cadets look to each other again, eyes wide. The ori’vod straightens again, turning to Rex with shoulders squared, chin jutted out. Protective. “CT-Twenty-One-Zero-Four-Zero-Eight, sir. And this is my… my ta’vod, CT-Twenty-Seven-Fifty-Five-Fifty-Five. We’re of Domino Squad.” 

Rex blinks, then frowns again. It’s one thing for him to come up with a wild theory when faced with the loss of two of his kih’vode, and it’s another to have those kih’vode standing in front of him aged four years younger. 

Wait. Ta’vod ? 

“Captain!” Someone shouts behind him, startling Rex back to standing. 

Sergeant Hardcase appears at his left, grinning at the cadets. “Su cuy’gar, runaways. We thought you mighta been eaten by the rock monster.”

CT-21-0408 — Echo, it’s Echo, except it isn’t, not yet — recoils. “Rock monster?” 

“We could take a rock monster,” CT-27-5555 (and Fives, does he go by Fives yet?) says, pushing past his vod (ta’vod ?) to look up at Hardcase. “Woah, I like your tattoo!” 

“Thanks, verd’ika,” Hardcase laughs. He looks over at Rex, frowning at whatever he sees on his Captain’s face. “You hadn’t reported back yet, and Kix is getting worried. Somethin’ about the cadets not having complete inoculation yet. Also, the General’s been calling.” 

Rex looks down at his vambrace, notes that yes, his commlink is blinking. He shakes off his confusion, gestures at the cadets. “Sergeant, take them to Kix, tell him to do a full scan and check-up, then take them to the mess for some grub, and for kriff’s sake, keep an eye on them. You two,” he turns to the cadets, and they snap to attention, “stay with Hardcase, do not run off again, I’ll come find you as soon as I’ve spoken with General Skywalker.” 

“Sir yes sir,” the three say in unison. 

They turn back to camp, Hardcase herding the cadets off to the med-tent while Rex heads back to command. 

He’s still reeling from the realisation that his batshit theory was correct, somehow, but he can acknowledge that he should have handled that better. He should have handled most of the day better than he has, really. If Kix were here, he’d probably say he needed to sleep more which, granted, might be true. Jesse would probably say he was too high strung and needed to let loose a little more, as if the Captain of the 501st could afford that. If he let loose, there’s no telling what disaster would befall them all. 

Just look at Echo and Fives! He lets them investigate an unusual door on an unknown planet against his better judgement, and they get themselves— he’s not sure, actually, whether they’ve regressed to cadet age, or swapped out of the time continuum with their cadet selves. 

The image of eight-year-old troopers trying to squish into four-year-old cadet bunks is enough to make Rex laugh out loud, and he smothers the sound with a cough as he ducks into the command tent once again. 

Lieutenant Denal stands at ease in front of the holotable where Generals Skywalker and Kenobi, and Commander Tano, are projected in blue hologram form. He seems to be receiving the same debrief regarding the planet that Rex got a few hours ago, as he’d been caught up with one of the many trooper teams still searching the surface. He nods when he sees the Captain, moving over so they can both appear in the holocall. 

“Ah, Captain Rex, good to have you back,” General Kenobi says. “Status update on those cadets?” 

“They ran off just after they woke up, sir, they were understandably spooked. But we tracked them down and I’ve sent them off with Sergeant Hardcase for a medical scan and food.” 

“Are we sure Hardcase is the best person to look after runaway cadets?” General Skywalker asks, although his grin says he doesn’t mind the choice. 

“Sir, if anyone can entertain two cadets while still keeping watch, it’s Hardcase,” Rex says loyally. “He also happened to be the only one there at the time, but I trust him.” 

The General chuckles, conceding with a nod. “And did you get a chance to ask them anything?” 

“Yes sir. They told me the last thing they both remember is going to sleep in the cadet barracks on Kamino, and that they have no idea how they arrived on planet.” He hesitates, then forges ahead. “They also told me their CT numbers.” 

Commander Tano perks up, bouncing in place. “And? Who are they, Rex?” 

“CT-Twenty-One-Zero-Four-Zero-Eight, and his ta’vod, CT-Twenty-Seven-Fifty-Five-Fifty-Five, of Domino Squad.” 

“Echo and Fives,” Skywalker grins brightly as Tano cheers.

“Ta’vod ?” Denal asks. 

Rex nods. 

Skywalker frowns. “What does ‘tavod’ mean?” 

“Ta’vod, ” Rex corrects. “It means twin, sir.” 

“Echo and Fives are twins?” 

“If the cadets are to be believed, sir.”

Skywalker and Kenobi share a look, and Rex knows what they’re going to ask. 

Kenobi holds up a hand in apology. “Pardon me for saying so, but I was under the impression that multiple troopers are decanted at once. Not to mention the obvious. How is this different?” 

“It’s different,” Denal says with a frown, “because every clone is grown from egg to embryo to foetus in their own pod. In order for twin clones to happen, the egg would have split during early development, and there’s no way that wouldn’t be considered a defect by the Kaminoans.” 

A complicated look crosses Skywalker’s face. “A defect ?” 

“We’re designed to be perfect, sir,” Rex explains, “and anything… unexpected during our development would be examined closely to determine whether or not it will be detrimental to our ultimate purpose.”

“And if it is?” 

“... I think you know the answer to that, sir.” 

Skywalker clenches his jaw, squeezes his eyes shut, looking a lot like he’s trying to reign in his emotions. Rex shares a frown with Denal — although maybe not common knowledge, Rex was sure the jetiise were aware of the rigorous standards the kaminiise had for their clones. The Grand Army of the Republic required the absolute best, after all. 

Rex tries to ignore how bitter the thought is. 

“If the Kaminoans would perceive twin clones as a defect, then how do you explain Echo and Fives?” Kenobi asks carefully. 

“There have always been rumours about twins in batches, but usually they’re just cadets with a very close relationship,” Rex says. “But Echo called Fives his ta’vod specifically, which isn’t a common expression for us. Even clones who might think of each other as such would just say vod.” At Kenobi’s politely confused frown, he continues, “They might just be particularly close and think of each other that way, but if that were the case, I’m sure I would’ve heard it from them before.” 

“It sounds like they are in fact twins,” Denal says, “grown from the same egg in the same pod. It’s possible that the Kaminoans were simply curious about what the result would be.” Under his breath, he adds, “I wouldn’t put it past them,” and Rex inclines his head in agreement. 

“So, Fives and Echo are apparently twins,” Tano says, “which is weird because no one knew about it, but that doesn’t answer the bigger question, which is: why the kriff are they kids now?” 

“I want everyone off-planet,” Skywalker announces. 

“Sir?” Rex frowns. 

“Like Snips says, we don’t know what happened to them, but we do know what happened to this planet. It was an extinction-level event, and maybe some of us,” he cuts a glance at Kenobi, who simply raises a brow, “don’t think that’s anything to be worried about, but I’m worried. Rex, call back all the men and get back to the Resolute. The best way to figure this out will be with the Force. How far out are you, Obi-Wan?” 

“A few hours in hyperspace,” Kenobi says after a moment. “We should arrive by the time all your men are back on board.” 

“Wait, Master—”

“I understand your concern, Anakin, and I don’t disagree, but whatever happened on the planet will not affect us in orbit, and we may need to return depending on what we find with the cadets.” 

Skywalker scowls, but still nods his acquiescence. “Alright. Rex, Denal, start sending the men up. Ahsoka and I will work with Admiral Yularen to receive the transports while we wait for the Negotiator.” 

Rex and Denal snap to attention. “Sir yes sir.” 

“If I may, sir, ask one more question?” Rex asks as Denal walks away to call the still-active search teams. 

“Go ahead, Rex.” 

“What should I tell the cadets?” 

Kenobi and Skywalker share another look. 

“I don’t see why you can’t tell them the truth,” Kenobi says. “It may even prove useful, if it happens to trigger their older selves’ memories.” 

“Maybe not all of the truth,” Skywalker adds with frown, “because, if I recall correctly, it was Domino Squad they lost on the Rishi moon. The ones they were raised with.” 

Rex bows his head, the words of remembrance heavy behind his teeth. “Yes sir, it was.” 

“We don’t want to stress them out further,” Skywalker says, gentler this time. 

He understands their reasoning, and maybe it’s a Force-thing too, but Rex doesn’t think any clone would appreciate the truth of their vode passing being hidden from them. Still, orders are orders. It’s not like he would even want to break that news to them, truth be told. Their older selves seemed to finally be moving on — no need to ruin that progress. 

The remembrance turns to sour guilt as he nods. “Very well, sir. I’ll go find them, and Kix, Jesse and Hardcase too, let them all know what’s going on.” 

“Thanks Rex. We’ll see you soon.” 

“Yes sir.” 

He decides to hit up the med-tent first, as he isn’t sure how long two medical scans would take, but he only finds Kix, sitting on a cot with two new medical files in hand, two older ones next to him. He barely reacts to Rex’s entrance, wide eyes pouring over the files. 

“It’s Echo and Fives,” he whispers when Rex gets close enough. 

“I know, vod,” Rex says. “Where can I find them?” 

Kix directs him to the mess, and only follows after Rex takes the files from his hands and pulls him to his feet. They enter to organised chaos, from both the returning troops desperate for food that isn’t ration bars and the fact that the immediate evacuation is now underway. At least a quarter of the bench tables have already been collapsed and moved out of the tent, and half of the rest are still occupied, but regardless of what they might be doing, everyone keeps getting distracted by one table in the corner. 

Hardcase and Jesse sit on one side of the table, and Echo and Fives sit on the other, an attentive audience to whatever wild and heavily embellished adventure Hardcase is spinning for them. Jesse is watching with a slight smirk, casually straddling the bench, and shaking his head in all the right places, but there’s something off about his expression. 

He sees Rex and Kix first, flashing a quick signal at Hardcase as he rises to meet them. 

“Captain,” Jesse hisses. 

“I know, Lieutenant.” 

“Captain, it’s Fives and Echo.” 

“I know, Lieutenant.” 

“They don’t remember anything—”

“He gets it, Jesse,” Kix snaps, louder than he probably meant to. 

There’s an awkward pause, and Rex looks over Jesse’s shoulder to see Hardcase and the cadets all watching them. The cadets are curious and a little suspicious, and Hardcase looks expectant. He raises a brow in question and Rex flashes a stay put signal at him. Hardcase pouts but turns back to the cadets, capturing their attention again.

“How much have you told them?” Rex asks Jesse and Kix once he’s sure the cadets won’t be listening in. 

Jesse clenches his jaw. “Nothing, sir,” he grounds out, “because I wasn’t sure what you wanted them to know.” 

“Good, good. That’s good.” Rex runs a hand over the back of his head, pulling his fingers against the grain of his buzzcut. “We’re going to tell them— enough. We’re going to tell them enough.” 

“And how much is that?” Kix asks. 

“Who they are to us, what’s happening to them as far as we know. The General suggested we leave out some of the more… sensitive details.” 

Kix and Jesse glance at each other, then come to the realisation at the same time and give Rex matching glares. 

“They’re going through enough as it is,” Rex says, although he knows it sounds more like a defensive snap. 

“They are? Or do you mean the older Fives and Echo, who actually aren’t here right now, and would probably tell you to stop being a di’kut and give their verd’ika selves the truth.” 

Rex hisses. “Ne’johaa, Jesse!” He looks over at the cadets, who are still listening to Hardcase, at least superficially, but he would bet one of them is eavesdropping. Probably Fives. If Echo at eight still cares about following rules and orders, then Echo at four must be doubly concerned. He’ll pretend to be mad at Fives for breaking rules, but then help him utilise whatever information he got regardless. 

Something in Rex’s chest clenches at the thought. How can he possibly miss his khi’vode when they’re both sat right in front of him? 

“Look, the Generals are going to do something with the Force, and we all know what happens when strong emotions meet that unbridled power. We can tell them eventually, if we get to a point where we need to, but for now our only job is to keep them safe and get them up to the Resolute.” He pushes past them, ignoring Jesse’s irritated growl, and approaches the table.

“... and the Captain dives into the undergrowth, so all you can see is his little blue sheb’ika—”

“At least half of the Sergeant’s stories are lies,” Rex interrupts as he sits down on his vod ’s left, right in front of the cadets. “The other half are so heavily embellished that they may as well be lies.” 

“Aw, Captain, you wound me.” Hardcase lays a hand over his heart and sways dramatically into Rex’s shoulder, as if passing out. The cadets are smiling, but it’s half-hearted at best — they’re visibly worried about what he’s here for. 

“Do you have any stories, Captain?” Fives asks, eyes sharp and surprisingly perceptive for a four-year-old cadet. 

“I do.” Rex settles his hands on the table, fingers entwined and holding a fist. “I’d like to tell you the story of Echo and Fives, two of ours who went missing earlier today while on mission, CT numbers Twenty-One-Zero-Four-Zero-Eight and Twenty-Seven-Fifty-Five-Fifty-Five.”

The cadets — the cadets, not Echo and Fives, they don’t have those names yet — frown, a synchronous motion that might’ve made Rex laugh under other circumstances. 

“Sir?” Echo— one of them asks hesitantly. “I- I don’t understand, how- how could they be Twenty-One-Zero-Four-Zero-Eight and Twenty-Seven-Fifty-Five-Fifty-Five? That’s—” he gestures at his vod, his ta’vod, “that’s us.” 

Rex nods. He takes a deep breath (hold for five, release for seven) then says, “Fives and Echo were out on a scouting mission, less than a dozen klicks from this camp…” 

—|/O\|—

He takes the last transport to the Resolute, since as the most senior commanding officer on the ground it’s his job to make sure every one of his men get back safely. Rex descends the ramp and crosses the hangar, the thud of his boots against the durasteel floor echoing in the quiet space. 

It’s almost disturbing how empty it is, transports and gunships and starfighters left stationary while mechanics and troopers and pilots alike all get some well-earned rest. The lack of the usual crowds does, however, make it much easier for him to reach Skywalker and Tano, both of whom wait for him at the edge of the hangar with matching expressions of concern and confusion. 

“General, Commander,” Rex says as he stops in front of them, standing to attention. 

“At ease, Captain,” Skywalker says, lips quirking in a brief smile before settling back to a frown. 

Rex relaxes, removing his helmet with a sigh. “The cadets, sir?” 

“Asleep,” Tano says, “in your quarters. I guess Hardcase thinks he’s funny.” 

He’d left Hardcase on babysitting duty, sending him and the cadets up in the first transport off-planet. They’d still been reeling from the revelation, and Rex didn’t have time to check how they were processing before he’d been called back to the command tent to help coordinate the evac. He makes a mental note to check in on them as soon as he can. 

“How far out is General Kenobi?” 

“Still just over an hour left in hyperspace, we believe.” 

“And the evac team?” 

“Everything seems settled, and the men have been ordered to eat and then sleep, since you’ve all been run ragged today. That means you too, Captain.” Skywalker holds up a hand to forestall Rex’s protests. “Nope, I know you’ve been awake since we landed on-planet at oh-five-hundred, and I doubt you’ve eaten since midday meal, if that.” 

“Sir,” Rex protests anyway, “I have to—”

“Your men have handled it, Rex.” Tano smiles at him, cheeky and teasing. “Don't you trust them to do their jobs?” 

“Of course I do, sir,” Rex frowns, “but it’s my job as Captain to check up on the men and make sure everything’s running smoothly.” 

“And it’s my job as General to check up on my Captain and tell him to eat and take a kriffing nap once in a while.” Skywalker raises a brow in a distinctly Kenobi fashion. “I’m putting the ship on a skeleton crew so everyone can get some rest. The Negotiator won’t arrive for at least an hour, and I’ll still be at the helm. Nothing will happen, Rex, I promise you that.” 

Rex sighs, then reluctantly nods. “Very well, sir. You’ll wake me up when General Kenobi arrives?” 

“Sure, Rex.” 

He gives his General a look, but Skywalker just smiles, shooing him out. 

The Resolute’s mess looks very similar to the mess tent of any ground camp, except the bench tables here are bolted-down metal instead of collapsible plasteel, and there’s twice as many. Currently, it’s empty of all but Sergeants Coric and Del, who frogmarch their Captain to the kitchen and then watch him like hawks, presumably under orders to make sure he eats. It’s like no one trusts him to look after himself. 

They follow him through the corridors too, all shiny grey durasteel partitioned by blocks of fluorescent lights, and only leave once they reach the fork between the communal infantry barracks and the individual command quarters. They give him a look that clearly promises some form of retribution if he does anything more than go straight to sleep, and Rex just sighs in return. 

Finally, he arrives at his quarters, only to stop short just inside the door. 

‘Quarters’ is perhaps a bit of a generous description. He has a room to himself, yes, but it’s tiny, barely enough room for one regulation cot and one regulation desk set. There’s enough space in between them for him to walk past, but he’s found he can’t fit more than four full-grown and fully armoured troopers in the space. It’s why he prefers the barracks. 

Datapads and bits of flimsi are strewn across the desk, and a very distinct 501st helmet rests on top of the mess. Hardcase is slumped in the chair, head lolled back and probably doing hell to his neck. Rex would know, he’s fallen asleep like that before. He nudges the man awake and sends him back to the barracks with a quick vor’e for his trouble. Hardcase waves him off with a tired grin, says “I’ve always liked hangin’ out with cadets, s’good for my self-esteem.” 

The door slides shut behind Hardcase, and Rex finally turns his attention to the bed. 

The cadets are curled together in the centre of the bed, legs entangled, and arms wrapped around each other, shivering slightly. They’re both still only clad in the oversized body-gloves they were found in, and have fallen asleep on top of the thin, grey, GAR-issue blankets which, while not the warmest things, would provide more protection against the natural cold of a starship. 

Rex places his helmet on the desk, almost exactly where Hardcase’s had been, and begins removing his armour. Gloves, pauldron, spaulders, rerebrace, cuirass, kama, cuisses, greaves, and boots; it all gets taken off and stacked on the very far end of the desk reserved for exactly this. He has a closet which is technically meant for his armour, but he doesn’t like the idea of having it all so far away from him, and it’s just another obstacle in the case of an emergency. He leaves the vambraces and the body glove on, also just in case. 

He’s debating whether he should wake the cadets up or just fall asleep in the chair and risk a sore neck when there’s a grumble from the bed. A head pokes up, eyes squinting through the dim night-cycle lighting. He isn’t sure which one, but his guess is Fives. He knows that Echo is a pretty dead sleeper when he wants to be — when he can afford to be — and Fives always wakes up too easily. His body is tense, but he relaxes when he sees Rex. 

“Ori’vod,” the cadet mumbles. “Ori’vod, nuhoyi.” 

Rex’s throat tightens, but he swallows the embarrassing noise and moves to help as Fives — now that he’s closer he’s sure it’s Fives, or 27-5555, he should’ve asked — starts to wrangle the blanket out from underneath his ta’vod. Echo mumbles and murmurs but doesn’t wake as Fives tugs him up to the wall. The bed is only just wide enough for Rex himself, and two cadets basically equal a whole second trooper, but they make it work. 

He tucks one arm under his head and pillow, the other kept tight to his side, until Fives tugs on it so that Rex is holding the verd’ike to his chest. That feeling lodges in his throat again, and it takes everything he has to push it away. 

These are four-year-old cadets stuck in a place they don’t know; it makes sense they’d latch onto the first vod they found. They aren’t Echo and Fives, not really, not yet. 

With them pressed beside him, reminiscent of so many missions post-Rishi when they were almost sick with grief, it’s easier said than believed.

Chapter Text

Rex wakes up to muffled conversation, the quiet of cadets who haven’t yet started their stealth training and don’t know how to regulate their noise properly. He stays as still as he can, pays attention to his breathing as he slowly blinks his eyes open. He doesn’t want to eavesdrop, but he also doesn’t want to startle, so he shuffles an arm the littlest bit, as a warning of sorts. 

The conversation lowers with a hiss, and he hears a light smack, then a shove, and sits up before the squabble can devolve into a brawl. 

The cadets are sitting at the end of the bed, knees up to their chests, watching him with wide eyes. Rex rubs a hand over his face, checks the chrono on his vambrace. 0550. Less than four hours, but he regularly functions on less. The cadets, however, have to be exhausted. At four, they’re still considered developing and are usually given eight hours of sleep at minimum. Deprivation training won’t start until adolescence. 

“Why are you awake?” he asks, voice still gruff with sleep. 

“Sorry, ori’vod,” the-cadet-that-isn’t-yet-named-Fives says, “we were trying not to wake you. The jetii came in looking for you, to tell you that the other jetii has arrived, but said to let you sleep and that it could wait. That was an hour ago, and I just couldn’t get back to sleep.” 

“And he woke me up with his loud thinking,” the-cadet-that-isn’t-yet-named-Echo adds, getting a jab in the ribs from his ta’vod for it. 

Rex decides that this is a little ridiculous. “How should I refer to you?” he asks, with a lack of tact that would make Cody roll his eyes and promptly blame Wolffe. 

Both cadets freeze and glance at each other. “What do you mean, sir?” not-yet-Fives asks. 

Rex sighs, rubs his eyes again, hoping to force himself to be a bit more awake. “Although you are the cadet-selves of the troopers I know, you are also your own selves, and it might feel uncomfortable being referred to by names that aren’t yours yet.” 

Not-yet-Echo narrows his eyes. “Are you uncomfortable referring to us by those names?” 

“Don’t turn the question on me, verd’ika, this is about you two and what you want.” 

“We want names,” not-yet-Fives says with a scowl, “like every clone does. And you reckon we have names, even if we haven’t gotten them yet.” 

“Even if we haven’t gotten them yet,” not-yet-Echo continues, “they’re still ours. They feel right.” 

They’re sitting up straight now, cross-legged with chests puffed out, all blustery defiance, and Rex smiles. “Alright,” he says quietly. “If that’s what you want.” He nods to them in turn. “Fives. Echo.” 

He gets twin sunny grins in response. 

They start chattering as he rolls out of bed, and he hears them repeatedly call each other by their new names as they do. He replaces his armour piece by piece, lets the noise of excitable kih’vode roll over him like a comfortable blanket. Watching the cadets— watching the twins scramble out of bed, tugging on the shoulders of their oversized body-gloves, he decides their first stop will be the storeroom, to get some clothes that fit them better, and then the mess, since it’s been hours since they last ate. Then he will go and see the Generals. 

“How much of the ship did Hardcase show you?” Rex says as he wraps his kama around his waist. It’s the last piece, aside from his helmet, and once it’s clipped in place, he waves open the door and gestures the twins out. 

“Only whatever we saw on the way here,” Echo says as he bounces into the hallway after Fives. “He said that the middle of an evacuation is an osik’la time to do a full tour and that you wanted us to stay out of trouble.” 

“He said it was a what time for a tour?” 

“Osik’la.” 

Echo’s face is a perfect picture of innocence, but Fives sniggering in the background ruins the effect. Rex has no doubt that that is exactly what Hardcase said (and he’ll be having words with his men about what is and isn’t appropriate for cadets) but if Echo is trying to convince him that he’s got no idea what osik’la means… 

“Your banthashitting needs work, verd’ika.” (Yes, he’s a hypocrite, but he’s the Captain, he’s allowed.)

Echo pouts, Fives cackles, and Rex sighs.

It’s going to be a long few days. 

In the storeroom, the only clothing that is even close to four-year-old cadet size are some of Commander Tano’s old clothes, shirts and trousers of traditional jetii garb that she doesn’t like to wear because they ‘don’t fit her aesthetic’, whatever that means. Echo and Fives seem pretty excited by them, however, reminding Rex that they’ve probably never worn anything other than the cadet uniforms and regulation body-gloves.

“Hey Rex, if we’re dressed like jetiise, does that mean we get jetii’kade?” 

“There is no karking way you are ever getting a jetii’kad.” 

This time, both Echo and Fives are pouting. 

They draw looks as they walk down the halls. The Resolute is waking back up now that most everyone has gotten some shut eye, and two clone cadets wearing jetii clothing is quite the sight for those who haven’t had any caf yet. 

Entering the mess causes quite the stir, too, and although it’s too early for most to accost them, they get plenty of whistles and waves. Echo shies away from the onslaught of attention but Fives revels, answering with a bright grin. He lights up when he spots Hardcase sitting with Jesse, Oz, and Ringo on the far side of the mess, turning to Rex with a question on his face. 

“How about you go check in with Hardcase while your ta’vod and I get us some grub?” Rex offers. 

Fives falters at the mention of their twin status, looking to Echo for permission. 

Echo nods. “I’ll be fine, Fifty — Fives. I’ll be fine, Fives.” 

He hesitates a moment longer, but then nods and races down the centre of the mess tables, smacking every hand that pops up in his way. 

Rex chuckles. It’s nice, having cadets on board who brighten up a room with their unrelenting enthusiasm. It reminds him of when they’d get a new batch of shinies — except, of course, their last shinies were Echo and Fives, who were far too busy grieving to be enthusiastic about much of anything. 

He misses them, fiercely so, and he wants to get them back. But having the verd’ike around — it’s nice. Good for morale. Yeah. 

He puts a hand on Echo’s shoulder, both to reassure and to guide him into the kitchens, where the food is served. Once again, ‘food’ is a bit generous; it’s only moderately better than what gets served in Tipoca City, and if they happen to have been on a planet where they’re able to buy things like fruit and sauce and salt, then they can even have variety . 

Together they grab three trays, two of which get a little bit of everything: instant bread, veggie paste, veggie lumps, tuber mash, a stew that smells heavily like uj’ayl and peppers to hide the fact that the ‘meat’ is either protein cubes or literal womp rat, and unidentified fruit cordial. There’s also caf, which Rex decides to forgo despite the headache he’ll get later. Better for him to need some painkillers later than for Echo and Fives to be bouncing off the walls from their first ever dose of caffeine. 

Well, Rex thinks as he and Echo head back into the mess, bouncing off the walls any more than he already is. 

Fives is being wrestled into submission by Jesse, Hardcase holding his legs in place so he can’t kick his way out. Echo makes an alarmed noise at the sight, but Rex isn’t concerned. For one, he knows that fist fighting is how Jesse shows love, and for another, Fives is clearly delighted, laughing and giving them everything he’s got. 

Hardcase looks up, sees Rex coming, and waves with that cheeky-shebs grin all his vode seem to have. “Su’cuy, vod, verd’ika!” 

Rex shakes his head but can’t help his smile. He made a rule, when he first became Captain, that there were certain spaces where he was vod before he was alor’ad, and the mess is one of them, which means he can disapprove all he likes, but he can’t order them to stop unless he has legitimate reason. And he doesn’t disapprove, in this case, not really; tussling is good for a cadet’s development.

As soon as they reach the table and Echo puts down his tray, he’s vaulting the table and slamming into Jesse, ripping Fives’s legs from Hardcase’s hold and sending them all sprawling onto the floor. 

Jesse is good, and he fights valiantly, but if he actually wanted to throw two (highly determined and energetic) cadets off, he’d have to hurt them, and he wouldn’t do that with a blaster to his head. He yields, and the twins stand triumphantly as the mess erupts into cheer. 

“Kandosii, verd’ike,” Rex says over the noise, and he gets those sunshine smiles again. 

They take their time with their meal, far longer than Rex usually would, especially when he knows the General is waiting on him, but the twins are eager to engage in conversation, to be nudged and jostled and teased. To be treated like vod’ike. He doesn’t want to take it from them, since he has no idea what kind of things the Generals and Commander will need to do to figure out what happened yesterday. This could be the last bit of fun they get for the next few hours. 

Eventually, though, his commlink goes off, instantly killing the conversation. The twins look at him with wide eyes, and Jesse and Hardcase exchange a look. Rex takes a deep breath, and answers. 

“Captain Rex,” General Skywalker says, “although I’m very glad you’re finally getting some sleep, I’m afraid I need you on the bridge as soon as possible.” 

Rex frowns. “Has something happened, sir?” 

The little blue General waves a hand. “Nothing disastrous, no, but Obi-Wan says we shouldn’t delay any longer.” The waving hand is then pointing threateningly in his face. “That doesn’t mean you get to skip breakfast, however. Kix is perfectly happy to yell at me about you neglecting your health.” 

“I do nothing of the sort, sir.” 

“Says the di’kut who slept less than four hours and didn’t even have caf this morning,” Echo says, then recoils as he realises he interrupted the Captain, not just his vod. 

“Is that your cadets ratting you out, Rex?” Skywalker grins. 

“They’re very perceptive, General,” Rex grits out. Echo hunches down in his seat, and Rex reaches over to squeeze his shoulder in forgiveness. 

“Less than four hours, Captain?” Hardcase shakes his head. “Even Oz sleeps more than that, and he’s got that insomnia.” 

Oz raises his mug of caf in a botched salute. “Should aim for at least six, sir. People’ll get off your back then.” 

“Thank you all for your input,” Rex says loudly, “but I’m fine. I’ve already eaten, sir, I’ll be up to the bridge shortly. Shall I bring the cadets?” 

“Yes, bring them up. Obi-Wan is here, so we’ll get started right away. He’s brought a present for you,” Skywalker adds, his grin turning sly. 

“A present, sir? From- from General Kenobi?” 

“The bridge, Rex. We’ll be waiting for you.” 

The holocall is cut, and Rex finds himself on the end of some very strange looks from his vode. “Don’t even think about it,” he points to Jesse and Hardcase, who are clearly ready to make trouble. “Come on Echo, Fives, we’re heading to the bridge.” 

He walks away without looking back, hears the twins scramble after him and a belated yell of “You didn’t pick up your tray, karking besom!” Probably Jesse. 

“Language, kih’vod,” he calls back, ignoring the scoffs and indignant squawk that gets him. 

There’s only one thing — or rather, one person — General Kenobi has that Rex could want, and he has to fight not to run all the way there. The twins are struggling to keep up as is, and he forces himself to slow down to their pace. They, understandably, are not as excited as he is to reach the bridge. 

He makes himself pause at the doorway, as much as it pains him to delay, turning to crouch in front of Fives and Echo and placing his hands on their outer shoulders. “Listen, vod’ike, the Generals aren’t going to hurt you. I won’t let them hurt you. Anything you don’t want to do, you don’t have to. Just let me know, and we’ll figure something else out. Alright?” 

The twins share another one of their glances, the kind that makes Rex feel certain that they can read each other’s mind. “Alright, ori’vod,” Echo says quietly. “We will.” 

Rex gently draws them forward to rest their foreheads against his in a kov’nyn, just for a moment, before he rises and turns, keeping them behind his legs as they pass through the double blast doors.

The bridge is a fairly large space, grey durasteel floor narrowing into a walkway that floats above the recessed stations of the bridge crew, with computer terminals hosting everything from intelligence to communications to navigation. Electronic buzzing and beeping accompany a murmur of conversation, the murmur of troopers just starting their work. The front half of the walls are taken up by panoramic transparisteel windows, through which the vast darkness of space can be seen, interrupted by the rusty red curve of the unnamed planet. 

The same planet appears in blue, hovering above the holotable situated right in front of the blast doors, at the back of the bridge. The Generals stand together talking in low tones, Skywalker’s dark robes next to Kenobi’s much lighter ones making for an interesting study in contrast. Commander Tano is there as well, fingers hooked in her belt as she listens to her masters, and beside her… 

“Su cuy’gar, Ret’ika,” Cody says with a smile. 

“Kote,” Rex laughs, moving forward to wrap his ori’vod in a hug. Cody returns the gesture, arms high around Rex’s shoulders and forehead pressed to Rex’s temple. They hold it for a moment longer than is maybe necessary, but Rex thinks it should be allowed since they haven’t seen each other for a number of weeks and have limited contact on the best days. 

When they let go, Rex can see that the Generals and Commander turned away to give them their privacy. The twins have no such concern, staring up at Cody with the same poorly concealed awe that they stare at all the troopers with. 

“Who are you supposed to be?” Fives asks with what could be disdain if he were a little less star-struck. 

Cody smiles. “Marshal Commander Cody, your eventual boss. You must be Fives and Echo.” 

The twins snap to attention. “Sir yes sir.” 

“It’s good to finally meet you.” Cody waves them over to the holotable. “Let’s see if we can’t figure out what’s happened to you both.” 

The Generals and Commander take that as the permission it is and turn back around to face the holotable. It gets turned off, and they walk around to stand in front of the clones. 

“Good to see you up, Captain,” Tano says, grinning. “Well rested, I hope?” 

Rex gives her a flat stare, but the jet’ika just laughs.  

“Generals,” Rex says, diverting the conversation before they can all pitch in with opinions about his sleeping habits, “what is it you need to do for Echo and Fives?” 

He can feel them hiding behind him — or, well, not hiding, but certainly aware that he’s their best protection, since neither of them are in armour and every clone feels unsafe that way, and perhaps (hopefully) also aware that Rex was telling the truth. He won’t let them get hurt, and if necessary, he knows that Cody would step in too. 

Not that he anticipates them needing it, of course. He trusts his General to do the right thing. 

“Our first task is to figure out what happened,” Kenobi says. “But we can’t do that here. We need a large, empty space where we can work without interruption.” 

“The training rooms, sir,” Rex says. “They’re the widest space we have. There are also two of them, so we can occupy one for a few hours without depriving the men of their fun.” 

They head down as a group, and if Rex thought he was drawing eyes with clone cadets dressed like jetii, the sight of three actual jetii, the Marshal Commander, the 501st Captain, and two clone cadets dressed like jetii makes everyone stop and stare. 

He’s grateful when they finally arrive. The training rooms are two large spaces on either side of the corridor, the durasteel walls and floor that make up the entire star destroyer covered by dull green padding, to soften any landings. There are square mats to denote sparring spaces, punching bags hang from the ceiling, and dummies made of an assortment of droid parts scavenged post-battle stand imposingly in the middle of the room. It’s clearly been used recently, and Rex is going to have to talk to someone about cleaning up after themselves. 

Tano bounces ahead of everyone, apparently excited for the new experience in Force-wielding, or whatever it is they’re going to do. She and Skywalker work together to move the droid dummies to the outer edges of the room while Rex configures the door lock. 

“So, how old are you two now?” Tano asks as they work.

“We’re four,” Fives says, only a little bit defensive. 

Rex winces. “He means that they’re fourth years, as in they’re in the midst of their fourth year of training.” 

“Fourth year of living too,” Echo says, giving Rex an odd look. “You must be getting really old if you can’t even remember that.” 

When asked later, he’ll blame his own ori’vode for the way he lunges at Echo, grabbing him at the waistband and tossing him over his shoulder. Echo shouts, beating his fists against Rex’s back and wriggling like a worm in the mud, but he’s also laughing too hard to call his ta’vod for help. Fives tries anyway and is promptly pulled into a headlock under Rex’s other arm. 

The Generals and Commander look stunned, but Cody is grinning at him, clearly recognising the move. Rex drops Echo back to his feet, presses him against his ta’vod, then straightens as if nothing happened. The twins are still laughing, and Rex allows himself to smile just a bit too. 

Cody chuckles, nudges Rex’s shoulder. “The kih’vod is now the ori’vod, eh?” 

“Shut up, Kot’ika.” 

“Wait, hang on,” Skywalker blinks, clearly confused. “You two are way too big to be four-year-olds.” 

“We’re engineered to age at a faster rate, sir,” Echo recites before Rex can stop him, “twice the rate of nat-borns, in order to reach the optimal height, weight, intelligence, and skill, as soon as possible, to be the best soldiers for the Republic that we can be.” 

A dark look crosses Skywalker’s face. “Rex. How old are you?”

Rex wants to prevaricate, to say that physical and mental age is different to literal age, but he doesn’t think Skywalker will agree. He decides to be blunt. 

“I’m ten, sir.” 

Skywalker blinks again, looks down at his feet, clenches his fists, then swears viciously in Huttese, with enough force (or Force) behind it that the walls shake. Kenobi reaches over to pull Tano aside just as Skywalker’s fists slam into one of the droid dummies, and the metal shatters. The twins flinch, and Rex and Cody move seamlessly to stand in front of them as a protective guard. 

The General sees them move, and visibly forces himself to calm down, breathing in and out in a repetitive motion that Rex recognises. In for five, hold for five, out for seven, repeat. Kenobi rests a hand between Skywalker’s shoulder blades, a firm and grounding touch, and Skywalker leans into it with relief. 

“I’m sorry,” he says roughly, “I didn’t mean to react that way.” 

“Are you calm, sir?” Rex asks, not budging a step. 

“I will be,” Skywalker says, but Kenobi shakes his head. 

“Ahsoka,” he gestures for the Commander, “help Anakin.” 

“Yes, Master.” Tano takes Kenobi’s place, and Kenobi straightens with one last squeeze to Skywalker’s wrist. 

He walks to where Rex and Cody are still protecting the twins, hands held up in apology. “Let’s move over there, shall we?” he says quietly. “I can manage this bit on my own.” 

“Are you sure, General?” Cody asks, looking back at Skywalker. 

“Quite sure, Commander. Come.” 

On the other side of the room, Kenobi settles himself on a sparring mat cross-legged, elbows on his knees and palms outstretched. After a quick glance at Rex, Echo and Fives follow. Rex and Cody stay standing, Rex behind the twins and Cody facing Rex’s shoulder, so he can keep an eye on both Generals. 

Kenobi smiles at the twins gently. There’s still a bit of strain around his eyes, but he does a good job of hiding it. “Echo and Fives. All I’m going to do is examine you in the Force. You may feel like something is brushing up against you, but please, do not panic. I’ve no intention to hurt you, and if at any point it gets too much, let me know and I’ll pull away, but it should be over fairly quickly.” 

The twins look at each other; Echo raises his brows, and Fives nods. “Alright, sir,” Echo says. “We’re ready.” 

Rex can only tell that anything happens because Echo flinches and grabs onto his ta’vod ’s hand. Fives grips back, and Rex very gently sets his hands on their shoulders, hoping to ground them. They relax beneath the touch, though their faces are still scrunched up in discomfort. 

Kenobi’s eyes are closed, and he’s frowning, tilting his head as if examining a puzzle. He hums a little under his breath, shakes his head, then gasps. Echo and Fives both cry out, jolting beneath Rex’s hands, and Kenobi pulls his arms back to his chest. 

“Ey’ika, Raysh’ika,” Rex says as he drops to his knees behind the twins. They both lean into his side, trembling slightly. “Tion gar jate?” 

It takes a moment, a long heart-stopping moment, but then Fives mumbles, “Elek,” and Rex drops his head to Fives’s with a sigh of relief. 

“My apologies,” Kenobi says quietly. “I saw something that surprised me, not that that’s an acceptable excuse.” 

“S’okay, sir,” Echo murmurs, which is good because Rex isn’t sure he’s capable of being diplomatic right now. “We know it was an accident.” 

“Even so, it shouldn’t have happened, and I’m terribly sorry, my dears.” Kenobi makes eye-contact with Rex, tilts his head as if asking what next ? 

Rex clears his throat, pulls back from the twins, although he doesn’t go too far as they latch onto his chest. It can’t be comfortable, pressing themselves into his armour, but he lets them be. “What did you see, General?” 

Kenobi sighs. “It’s… complicated.” 

“This entire karking trip has been complicated, Master. Tell us something we don’t know.” 

The twins flinch imperceptibly against him, and Rex turns to see General Skywalker approaching, Commander Tano close behind. Cody shifts his position slightly, so that he’s blocking Skywalker from reaching the twins, and Skywalker freezes, eyes narrowed.  

“Commander,” Kenobi says, a warning note in his voice, but Cody stands firm. 

Skywalker looks to Rex, and then the twins, clearly asking permission. The twins share another one of their glances, and Echo taps Rex’s shoulder in an affirmative. 

“Kote,” Rex says, and Cody steps smoothly to the side, permitting Skywalker and Tano to sit next to Kenobi. 

Rex is uncomfortably aware that a lot of regulations and protocols are being broken, with Rex and Cody essentially being in control here despite being both subordinates and clones. It’s almost like— 

It’s almost like as the only familial ‘adults’ the twins have, they’re being given the same allowances that guardians of any child would be given. 

It’s almost like they’re being treated like people. 

Rex shoves the thought away to be dealt with later. 

Skywalker and Tano have sat on either side of Kenobi, and he has a hand on their knees. Their eyes are closed, and their faces shift through thoughtful frowns and irritated scowls as if they are of one mind. 

Rex shares a glance with Cody. Jetii osik. 

They open their eyes as one too, faces an eerie mirrored blankness before they each blink and return to normal. 

“I’m sorry, Master,” Skywalker says, “but it appears you were right — that is complicated.” 

“Sir?” Rex asks. 

“It appears,” Kenobi answers, “that Fives and Echo were the target of a concentrated removal of time at an atomic level using Force energy.” 

“Uh… sir?” Cody asks. 

“He means,” Tano tries, “that someone manipulated the Force to, for lack of a better word, cut Echo’s and Fives’s lives at the moment they were exactly four years, four months, four days, and four hours old. Why so many fours, we’ve no idea.” She shrugs. “Maybe a lucky number?” 

“Their lives have been cut ?” Rex frowns. “What does that mean?” 

Kenobi sighs, runs a hand over his beard. “It means that their older selves, their bodies and minds and even their Force signatures have been…” he trails off, looks to Skywalker, who grimaces, but nods. “It means their older selves have been removed from them.” 

“So…” Echo ventures, “you can’t fix us, then? We have to stay as cadets with no memory of the years we’ve already lived?” 

“We can still stay here, though, right?” Fives looks up at Rex. “Please, ori’vod, you can’t send us back to Kamino. We promise we’ll train super-fast!” 

Echo nods emphatically, grabbing Rex’s arm. “We’ll train super-fast, and we’ll be super quiet, and we won’t fight in the mess hall and you won’t even notice us, it’s not like we eat much.” 

“Of course you’ll be staying here, vod’ike,” Rex says without thinking, wrapping his arms around the twins, and pressing his forehead to Fives and Echo in turn, the clear making of a promise. 

“Woah, hang on,” Skywalker says, “that may not even be necessary.” 

There’s an odd look on his face as he watches Rex with the twins, something like anger and longing both, but it disappears when he notices Rex looking at him. “We never said it couldn’t be fixed,” Skywalker continues, “but it’s, uh… Obi-Wan?” 

“Their older selves have been removed from them, but they still exist in the Force,” Kenobi says. “Theoretically, if we go back down to the surface to the coordinates where Echo and Fives first vanished, we could locate their older selves and place them back inside their bodies.” 

“Theoretically?” Rex frowns. 

“Considering that General Skywalker collapsed as soon as his foot touched the surface, how exactly do you plan to get there?” Cody asks. 

“I believe that if the three of us are linked as we were before, we’ll be able to share the burden of the planet’s history. It will be uncomfortable, but we can do it.” Kenobi shrugs. “Besides, we’ll be landing as close to the coordinates as possible, so we shouldn’t have to withstand it for long.” 

“Should we go immediately, then?” Skywalker asks, directing the question to the twins. 

Echo looks to Fives, who has gone uncharacteristically sullen. He’s tugging at the sleeves of his tunic, not even returning his ta’vod ’s glance. Rex runs his fingers soothingly through Fives’s short curls, and the verd’ika leans into it, before mumbling against Rex’s ribs, “Will we disappear?” 

Kenobi shakes his head, even though Fives can’t see it. His hand reaches forward before he aborts the motion, instead tucking it into his sleeves. “You won’t disappear, little one,” he says quietly, “You’ll simply be reconnected with your older selves. It’ll be like falling asleep, I imagine.” 

Rex smothers a hysterical laugh at the way Fives faintly bristles at being called ‘little one’, especially since he’s been responding to verd’ika all morning. Although it’s different when coming from vode, Rex supposes. 

“Okay then,” Fives says. He finally looks back at Echo, who gives him a small smile and a nod, and says, “I guess we should go down, then.” 

Before anyone can move, however, Skywalker’s commlink goes off. He grumbles, rising to his feet and walking a few meters away to take it. 

“Saved by the bell,” Fives mutters. 

Rex looks down at him, soothes his hands through his vod’ika’s curls again. “If you really don’t want to do this,” he says lowly, “you don’t have to.” 

“Except we do have to,” Echo says, watching his ta’vod closely. “We owe it to our older selves, and to the rest of our vode, to do whatever it takes to bring the real us back.” 

“This is the real you,” Rex says, “just as much as the older you.” 

He doesn’t know why he’s fighting them on this. He misses Echo and Fives, trooper Echo and Fives who could be such pains in the shebs, but also had the makings of brilliant tacticians and soldiers. They worked seamlessly together and with the rest of the 501st, in and out of field, and would come to him in the middle of the night for months following Rishi because they were given no time to grieve. He misses his kih’vode so much. 

But he’s going to miss his vod’ike too, their sunshine smiles and easy joy, their insatiable curiosity, how they lean on him for comfort both behind and in front of doors, their small size that means he can lift them up by the scruff and listen to them laugh like children they are, instead of the soldiers they were born to be. 

This is their choice, though. They’ve been given the options, and they’ve chosen to try and change back. Rex can respect that. 

“We know,” Fives says, “but this has already happened, when you think about it. We’re just…” 

“Scared?” Cody offers. 

“Not scared,” Fives snaps, “just— apprehensive.” 

Cody nods. “I’m familiar with the feeling,” he says, sharing a look with Rex. 

“You can be apprehensive,” Rex says, “that’s okay. Just remember that we’ll be right here with you. You won’t be doing this alone.” 

“We never do anything alone,” Echo says, and Fives nods, apparently happy with that. 

“Right, so there’s been a complication,” Skywalker announces as he walks back to the group. 

“Another one, you mean,” Tano says. “Is this a connected complication, or a brand-new problem to deal with?” 

“Connected,” Skywalker says, and everyone breathes a sigh of relief at that. The last thing they need right now is to run into new trouble, whether it be Seppies or pirates or something else entirely. “There’s a dust storm raging across the planet.” 

“A storm, sir?” Rex asks. 

“Yes, a rather large one covering the entire quadrant our men scouted today. Interestingly enough, it appears to only be affecting that quadrant, and it hadn’t show up on any sensors until a few minutes prior.” 

“Weirdly convenient timing,” Tano comments mildly. 

“That was exactly my thought, Snips,” Skywalker says with a proud smile. Tano pretends not to preen. 

“What do we do now then, sir?” 

Rex is already building up a list of chores he hasn’t attended to yet (he has to check in with Denal about the evac, has to check in with the bridge crew, has to go find the quartermaster for the twins’ helmets), is plotting out babysitting shifts and training shifts (which means trying to figure out who is available and can be trusted to watch and train two cadets without a: hurting them or b: using them for mischief), when Skywalker shakes his head. 

“You, Captain Rex of the Five-Oh-First,” Skywalker says, “are going to take a karking nap, maybe sleep longer than four hours.” 

Rex glares, standing up so he’s no longer at the General’s feet. “All due respect, sir, there’s too much to do, and as Captain—”

“You have powers of delegation.”

Skywalker is smiling smugly, and Rex shakes his head, just knows he’s about to be overruled. “Sir I can’t—”

“How about this then, and listen closely, Captain, I’m giving you the most important task.” Skywalker places his hands on Rex’s shoulders, looks in Rex’s eyes, oddly serious. “Watch the cadets, Captain. That is your one and only job for today.” 

It’s typical that Skywalker is one of the few people that can truly leave him speechless. “What— sir, I don’t…” 

It isn’t that he doesn’t want to spend time with them, but he’s the Captain, he has responsibilities to attend. The 501st depends on him to always be at attention, to help out wherever he’s needed, from the smallest issues to the biggest. And besides, what if the cadets don’t want to spend the day with him? They were having fun with Hardcase and Jesse earlier, and there are plenty of troopers they haven’t met yet that would love to hang out with cadets, especially Fives and Echo as cadets. 

But there’s a look on Skywalker’s face, that same one he saw earlier, a fierce and angry longing. “Rex,” Skywalker says, voice low and only for them to hear, “Denal and Appo can handle things without you for a day. Have some time with your kids.” 

“My—” Rex gapes. “Sir, they- they’re vod’ike, little brothers, but they aren’t my- my children.” 

Skywalker smiles, just a little. “Alright Rex.” He steps back and turns to Kenobi and Tano, clapping his hands. “Well, if we’re stuck in orbit until we can get back to the planet, we may as well get some training in.” 

Tano grins. “Does that mean you’ll finally teach me jar’kai, Master?” 

“Maybe,” Skywalker says. 

“Sir,” Rex says, still incredibly confused, “what do I…” He looks down at the twins, who are watching him with too-sharp eyes, and although he’s sure they didn’t hear what Skywalker said (he’s used the Force to hide their conversations before, and Rex gets the sense he’s done that now) he could swear they know anyway. 

“You promised us a tour,” Echo reminds him quietly. 

He doesn’t think he promised, exactly, but he takes the offer. “Alright, vod’ike, then that’s what we’ll do.” 

“Great!” Skywalker turns to Kenobi. “Obi-Wan?” 

Kenobi looks between Skywalker and Rex with narrowed eyes, but when nothing else happens, he sighs. “We’ll have to comm the Negotiator to let them know the plan, but then I would like to join you and Ahsoka, if you don’t mind.” 

“Of course not, Master,” Tano says. She’s bouncing again, and Rex smiles at the sight. 

“Cody?” Kenobi turns to his Commander. 

Cody straightens to attention. “Sir, requesting permission to go with Captain Rex, sir.” 

Kenobi smiles. “Of course, Commander.” 

They split up, Cody to the bridge with Kenobi, and a promise that he’ll meet them in the mess after their tour, and Skywalker and Tano to a new corner of the training room. Skywalker instructs Rex to leave the room open for others to use, as they won’t be working with the Force and it should be safe. 

The twins run ahead of him, the most excited they’ve been since arriving at the mess that morning, but Rex lingers at the door. He turns back to the General, to… say something, he supposes, although he isn’t sure what, but stops when he sees Skywalker gently guiding Tano into the correct position. She’s rolling her eyes but following along, and something she says makes Skywalker burst out laughing.  

Rex leaves the training room. 

“Where to first, ori’vod ?” Echo asks. He and Fives position themselves on either side of Rex, and he drapes his arms over their shoulders. 

“We’ll start at the engine rooms,” he decides, grinning at the way Fives groans. 

“We wanna see the exciting stuff,” Fives whines, “like the armoury and the gun range and the hangar!” 

“It’s important to know how every aspect of a ship works, ta’vod,” Echo says, clearly about to recite again. His memory has always been insanely impressive, although Rex can’t wait for the day that he uses it to recall tactics and strategy and overheard conversations, instead of just regulation manuals. 

Fives is rolling his eyes. “Sure, okay, I get that, except I already know how ships work, they’re all the same!”

“Just because you’re the best in Domino with mechanics, doesn’t mean you can’t use a reminder,” Echo says in that very familiar I’m older, so you have to do what I say voice. 

Fives leans around Rex to shoot his brother a glare, clearly recognising the voice too. 

They continue to bicker as they move down the hallway, drawing fond looks and commiserating glances from all vode they pass. Rex nods and hums as they go and is grateful they haven’t noticed how much he panicked at the mention of Domino. 

Their squad is bound to come up again, he knows, and if they ask, he’ll tell them, of course he will. He’s kind of surprised they haven’t yet, actually. He just hopes that when he does, they forgive him for not bringing it up sooner. 

—|/O\|—

There’s a thud, and a groan, and the training room breaks into cheers and boos both, hands getting slapped, and shoulders shoved as creditless bets are cashed in. Echo is grinning widely on Rex’s right, Fives pouting on his left, because Echo bet a week’s worth of pudding that Attie would beat Oz, and Fives has never seen Attie fight.

Oz is good — all of Rex’s troopers are good — but Attie survived Teth. And to be fair to Fives, he watched Oz’s match, but ran off to see Jesse and Kix when they walked in just as Attie took the mat for the first time that afternoon. Looking at Oz and Attie side by side and having only seen Oz in action, you’d be forgiven for thinking him an easy bet. 

When they first got to the training rooms, Echo and Fives had wanted to spar with him, and he’d resoundingly said no. When that got him pouts and pleas, he decided to take them through basic footwork, which made them groan about how we know this already, we aren’t two, Rex! He’d said it was footwork or nothing, and they’d finally made peace. 

Then Hardcase walked in and quite gladly took them up on their requests to spar. Rex let him go with only a little grumbling, because Fives and Echo had looked so excited at the prospect, and because he could trust Hardcase with cadet training. 

Hardcase would always spar with the shinies they got, and he knows how to hold himself back, how to pull his punches without getting hurt or becoming a less-than-desirable opponent. Rex, on the other hand, was trained by ARCs like Alpha-17 and had the ability to hold back beaten out of him over several gruelling months. That was the point of ARC training — you couldn’t do less than your best. 

Rex very rarely sparred with his troopers, though he was always glad to watch and help if they wanted. He only took fights with those who he knew could handle him: veterans, like the Teth survivors; Jesse, Kix, or Hardcase; or someone who had also been trained by ARCs, like… 

“So, when’s it your turn, kih’vod ?” Cody says as he comes up behind where Rex is sitting on the ground with the twins. 

Echo gasps. “Oh, please, Rex, you have to!”

“If you won’t spar us, at least let us see you fight!” Fives adds. 

“Come on, Captain,” Jesse calls from Fives’s other side, “show us what we’re aiming for!” 

“It’ll be a fantastic learning experience,” Hardcase says, grinning. 

“Just don’t get injured,” Kix says from where he’s patching Oz and Attie with Coric. 

Rex sighs, then groans, and rises fluidly to his feet. The twins cheer the loudest as he walks to where Cody has already taken the mat. He stops at the edge, eyeing his ori’vod ’s menacing half-grin. 

As soon as he steps on the mat, the fight will start. No waiting for them both to have their stance ready, no checking the rules of engagement, just straight to trying to get and then maintain the upper hand until one of them yields or can’t get up again. And Cody has never been anything but the most efficient of fighters. 

He turns to look at the twins, takes in their encouraging sunshine smiles, finds himself smiling in return. He takes a deep breath, turns to the mat, and rushes Cody. 

He gets his ori’vod around the waist and sends them crashing to the floor. Cody hadn’t been expecting it, but he recovers quickly, avoiding Rex’s fist and flipping them so he’s on top. He jabs Rex’s abdomen, puts his arm over Rex’s shoulders and throat, just not enough to choke. Rex pulls up his knees to knock them into Cody’s ribs, but Cody rolls away to avoid it, bouncing up to his feet. Rex quickly follows suit, and then they’re circling each other, looking for weaknesses and openings. 

Cody’s steps are steady and firm, his knees bent but not locked. He keeps his arms close to his chest, Rex notices, more so than just the usual defence, and although his steps are steady and firm, they’re careful too. Only someone who knows him as well as Rex does would see the way he carefully sets his feet, so he doesn’t jar the rest of his body. 

He feints left then darts right, jabbing Cody in those probably-recently-broken ribs. Cody takes the hits with a grimace and a growl, shoving his shoulder into Rex’s and throwing him off. Rex falls back, then rushes again before Cody can take another careful step. Cody takes the fall again, landing on his shebs and throwing Rex to the side. He clambers on top again, and Rex barely avoids a knee to the groin, feeling it shove into his hip instead. The other knee gets the other hip, and his hands are being wrestled above his head until he’s looking up at his ori’vod ’s sweaty face. 

If he were desperate to win this fight, he could probably throw Cody off, making sure he landed on his side and exploiting those recently broken ribs (recently healed too, he knows, because Cody can be dumb but he’s not a complete utreekov). If he had jabbed a bit harder earlier, gone for some solid punches, he could probably have won then, too. But one does not exploit the injuries of vode just for a win. 

Besides, he knows by the look on Cody’s face that Cody knows just how he could’ve won too if they were enemies. He hopes that Cody also knows that he deserves those jabs for deciding to spar on recently broken ribs. 

Cody releases Rex’s hands slowly, and Rex remains where he is, letting Cody sit back before he jabs his ori’vod again (in the shoulder, this time). “Di’kutla shebs,” he says as he sits up. “What are you thinking, sparring on broken ribs?” 

“What?” Kix barks, and Cody gives him a betrayed look. 

“It’s fine,” Cody tries as Kix bullies him into receiving a medical scan, “Tan checked me out, said I was good to go.”

Kix shakes his head. “You have to be lying, and if you aren’t, I’m going to be having a long talk with Tan to remind him of the recovery period for broken ribs. 

“Okay, alright,” Cody sighs. He knows that Kix will carry out his threat with extreme prejudice, and no clone commander worth his salt would let his men suffer that. “I’m lying. He said I was good for this mission, but only because it wasn’t expected to be strenuous.” He gets a truly impressive scowl for that. 

“You’re lucky you didn’t ruin his hard work,” Kix snaps, “But you are definitely sidelined.” Cody rolls his eyes, and Kix points a finger in his face. “Be glad I’m not forcing you on bedrest.” 

Cody holds his hands up in a universal sign of surrender, and Kix finally backs off. 

“So…” Fives pops up on Rex’s left, and it’s only thanks to years of training that he doesn’t jump a foot in air, “who actually won that fight?” 

“I did,” Cody and Rex say at the same time. 

Kix rolls his eyes. “It was a draw,” he tells Fives, “because the Captain could’ve easily thrown the Commander off if he’d decided to take advantage of those broken ribs .” 

“Healed ribs,” Cody corrects. Kix grants him an icy glare. 

“Don’t push it,” Rex says, and he gets that icy glare turned on him. 

“How long did you sleep again?” Kix asks dangerously. 

Rex sighs. 

They get shuffled off the mat to be replaced with Ringo and Zeer, and Rex allows himself to bask in the feeling of his aliit, his Torrent vode and his ori’vod, all gathered in the training room because they can be. For once, they don’t have a long, gruelling campaign to prepare for — they’re basically on vacation. It’s almost domestic. 

Fives and Echo are talking again, commenting on the spar, and asking questions about certain moves and tactics. Sometimes Rex comes back to himself enough to answer, but his vode are perfectly happy to step in when he doesn’t, and the twins either don’t notice or don’t care. They’re both leaning into him again, almost in his lap, carefully avoiding the tender areas where Cody hit him. 

He isn’t sure what time it is, only that it’s sometime after 1400, but the jaw-cracking yawn still takes him by surprise. The conversation around him stops, and he feels a flush worm its way across his cheeks. 

“You saw nothing,” he says, but it’s a fruitless endeavour. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you yawn,” Jesse says, a note of mocking wonder in his voice. “Are you feeling alright, Captain?” 

“The Captain needs to get some proper sleep for once in his karking life,” Kix grumbles, standing up only to start shoving at Rex’s shoulder. “Up, get up , and go to sleep, kriffing mir’osik .” 

“Oi,” Rex says, “I’m still—” 

Whatever stupid thing he was about to say is interrupted by another yawn, big enough to bring tears to his eyes and make the twins giggle. 

“Cadets, take your ori’vod back to his bunk,” he hears Kix say, and there’s a scramble in front of him as two sets of small hands pull him to his feet. He forces his eyes open, tries to wake himself up enough to at least get back to his quarters so the twins don’t try and carry him there. While he doesn’t doubt that they could, it smells like perfect blackmail material for someone to abuse. 

“You too, Commander,” and this time he’s awake enough to rebuff Cody with his shoulder when he gets shoved into him. “To supervise,” and there’s that threatening tone in Kix’s voice that brooks no argument. For a medic, he can be a real shebs. 

Trying to balance between two verd’ike with your ori’vod prodding your back to keep you moving turns out to be the perfect thing to wake Rex up, although it’s mainly so that he can shove Cody off the sixth time he gets a hard jab at the edge of his spine. Cody is grinning, unrepentant, and the next jab gets just under his ribs. 

He barely gets the chance to swipe his door open before the twins are manhandling him onto the bunk and stripping him to his body-glove. Cody is entirely unhelpful in his fond laughter as he takes off his own armour and settles himself in that uncomfortable chair. Let him be uncomfortable, Rex thinks as he’s wrestled out of his cuirass and pauldron, it’s the least the shebs deserves. 

They push him to the bed, arranging themselves similarly to how they had that morning, with Echo at his side and Fives splayed on top of them both. He hears Cody laugh again, hears him shuffle to the door, watches the lights dim to the lowest setting without plunging them in complete darkness, and hears Cody collapse back into the chair with a slight groan. 

Rex feels an irrational stab of guilt. “Tion gar jate, Kot’ika?” 

“Elek, Ret’ika,” Cody says quietly, a smile in his voice. 

The bunks and barracks are not sound-proofed, and most everyone else is still awake. There’s shuffling in the corridor, muffled conversation, quick steps as whoever it is hurries past the door. The weight of Fives against his chest, Echo’s breath on his neck, goes a long way to ground him, and although he feels tired, a deep in-his-bones tired, he finds he can’t sleep. 

Despite the dim light and the relative quiet, there’s an odd tension in the room. It takes Rex an embarrassing few minutes to realise it’s the twins. Echo’s breathing is the steady and measured of one preparing themselves for something, and it feels like Fives is bracing against him. 

Rex is definitely awake now. 

“Ey’ika,” he murmurs, “Raysh’ika. Me’bana?” 

There’s a long moment where Rex thinks they’ll ignore him. He can tell that Cody is paying attention too, and probably debating with himself whether he should be here for whatever conversation the twins want to have. Just as Rex is ready to tell them to forget it, they can discuss it later, Echo’s voice breaks, too loud in the silence. 

“Domino Squad are dead, aren’t they?” 

Rex flinches, and Cody sighs. 

Slowly, Rex tells them about the Battle for the Rishi Moon, everything he can remember from the reports, from the grief-stricken ramblings of the twins’ older selves, from his own witnessing of it. Cody pitches in occasionally, where Rex forgets or where his voice catches. 

He didn’t know most of Domino — the only one he spent any time with other than Echo and Fives was Hevy. But if Hevy is any example, if these twins are any kind of representation of the spirit of Domino Squad, then those cadets — those troopers — must have been incredible. 

By the time they’re finished, Fives has moved off of Rex to curl against his ta’vod. In the low light, Rex can see how they’re holding each other, foreheads pressed together as they grieve in the quiet, dry-eyed way of most clones when they first learn of vode passing. It’s the grief of a people who feel loss as often as the planet turns — every day, for all their lives.

“Why didn’t you say something sooner?” Echo mumbles. 

“Was it because you wanted to spare our feelings?” Fives bites out. 

Because the General told me not to. 

While technically correct, it’s a cop-out answer if Rex ever heard one, the kind of answer that would have Cody smacking him upside the head, and the twins probably never speaking to him again. It’s also not really the answer. 

“I watched you two grieve for months afterwards,” he says quietly. “The only two left of your squad, newly inducted to the Five-Oh-First, surrounded by vode desperate to help, but none of them could because they weren’t your vode. Half the time you were stuck together like barnacles, the other half you were each coming to me with new complaints about each other. Fives snores and Echo sleep talks, Fives wakes up too early and Echo won’t get up without caf, but what you were really saying was that you didn’t know how to talk to each other with the rest of your squad gone.

“I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want you to have to live it again. That’s true. I also didn’t tell you because you finally seemed to be moving on, both of you. You were making friends with other troopers, you were learning to move without constantly needing each other in eyesight, and you weren’t complaining half as much as before. I didn’t tell you because I was selfish — because I forgot that while you’re still Fives and Echo, you are not the same Fives and Echo that you were before. I’m sorry, vod’ike. Ni ceta.” 

I kneel. 

He hears Cody suck in a breath. Such an apology is rare in Mandalorian culture; mando’ade would never submit themselves to another like that. To do so would be laandur, would make them hut’uune. Of course, the clones aren’t recognised as Mandalorian, at least not officially, and even if they were, their line of work makes it difficult to claim to be such when they are constantly at the mercy of others. But it still isn’t common among them, because vode do not submit to vode, not even their superiors. As a collective, they can’t afford to be anything less than equals. 

There’s shuffling above and beside him, and an elbow is shoved into his solar plexus (he’s not entirely sure it was accidental) as Fives and Echo sit up. Their faces are cast in shadow due to the angle and low light, but he can feel the weight of their gaze upon him. They look to each other, then back to him, and say in that eerie synchronicity of theirs, “Mhi vore.” 

He breathes a sigh of relief and knows he doesn’t deserve it. 

“Did we—” Echo cuts himself off, looks back at Fives. “Can we do the remembrance?” 

Oh ad’ika, comes unbidden to Rex’s mind, and he swallows the words viciously as he pulls himself up, or as upright as he can manage with two cadets practically in his lap. “Of course we can. Do you want to lead?” 

Echo starts to shake his head, but then aborts the motion and nods determinedly. He holds out a hand to Cody, and after a moment of hesitation Cody accepts, perching on the very edge of the bed. Echo’s other hand is already holding Fives’s, and Fives grabs Rex’s left, leaving him and Cody to complete the circle. 

The space is tight with how they’re all squished onto the bunk, but not cramped or uncomfortable. Echo’s voice is low and thick with unshed tears as he carefully recites the words all clones learn very early on in their lives. “Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum.” 

The last word breaks in his mouth, and Fives easily picks up after him. “CT-Seven-Eighty-Two, CT-Forty-Forty, and CT-Zero-Zero-Twenty-Ten,” he says solemnly, then looks up at Rex. 

Manda, Rex hopes he’s reading this right. “Hevy, Cutup, and Droidbait.” 

Fives dips his head, then finishes. “Bal vode an ni ru'digu.” 

And all the brothers I’ve forgotten. A phrase the clones had added once the war kicked off, and their vode were being killed left and right and it was impossible to keep track of how many had died until some kind of roll call was taken and you had to cross out the dozens, hundreds, thousands of numbers and names that never got answered. He thinks of Teth, of the five soldiers he’d managed to get off that cursed planet. Five, out of the almost one hundred and fifty troopers that made up the original Torrent Company. 

All the brothers indeed. 

He only realises he’s crying when a small hand swipes across his cheek, and he blinks his eyes open to see Fives watching him closely. He looks less like the four-year-old cadet he is and more like the eight-year-old trooper he becomes, shoulders heavy with loss and eyes shadowed by fear. Rex wants to wipe that look away, wants to see the sunshine smile and the fierce courage. We could take a rock monster was the first thing he’d said to Hardcase, because Fives has always had an admirable, if sometimes foolhardy, battle-readiness, and a willingness to take risks others wouldn’t. 

Hesitantly he puts his hand on Fives’s shoulder, and when Fives leans into the touch Rex pulls him all the way in for a hug, one where he can press his nose to his vod’ika’s hair and imagine they are safe anywhere else in the galaxy. 

He draws Echo in too, and Echo tugs Cody, and then it’s the four of them crowded onto Rex’s tiny bunk. It definitely wasn’t made for this many people, and Kix would throw a fit if he could see the way Cody has contorted to curl around three of his kih’vode, but there’s warmth and safety here, the best kind a clone could ask for. Now that the tension is gone from the room (replaced by an all-encompassing grief, except grief is an old friend at this point) Rex finally feels like he could fall asleep. Because it’s still basically late afternoon, he’ll inevitably wake up at the wrong time of morning feeling incredibly out of sync, but in a rare show of nonchalance, he decides it’s a problem for future-Rex to deal with. 

Cody must agree, because he shuffles as much as he can so that he’s on his side, mirroring Rex, and the twins are in between them. He catches Rex’s eyes and huffs a laugh. “Nuhoyi, Ret’ika,” he says, all ori’vod mothering. 

“Jate ca, Kot’ika,” Rex returns, and lets his eyes slip closed once again. 

Chapter Text

He finds himself startling awake a number of hours later. 

The room is still dark, and he thinks it must be night cycle by now for how quiet it is beyond the door. He strains to hear any sign of whatever it is that woke him up — alarms, shouting or screaming, maybe Cody or one of the twins are having— 

Ice shoots through Rex’s veins, and he reaches across the (empty, so empty) bed to shove Cody awake. Cody sits up immediately, says “Rex,” in his al’verde voice, the one that asks for a sitrep immediately or you’ll regret it. 

“The twins are gone,” Rex says breathlessly, and Cody turns to him, arms looking for two little bodies that aren’t there anymore. 

“Haar’chak,” Cody snarls, tearing off the bed to turn the lights up. 

Rex is blinded for a second, but he adjusts quickly, following his ori’vod to check the room over despite knowing there’s nowhere to hide. There are no cadets under the bunk, none in the tiny closet or under the desk, and when Rex bangs his fist on the vent, there’s nothing but the sound reverberating through the ship, and the grumpy shouts of soldiers being startled awake. 

“There’s nothing,” Rex says, and his voice doesn’t sound like his own. His breath is coming too fast, and he knows he’s panicking again, but he can’t karking afford to, Echo and Fives are missing, again — 

He’s distantly aware when Cody grabs his shoulders, but he’s very aware when he gets smacked across the face. “I need you to focus, Rex,” Cody says, and this time it’s his ori’vod voice. “Do that breathing technique Kix taught you, okay? We will find them, but you need to calm down first.” He tugs on Rex’s hand, places it in the centre of his chest, and exaggerates his breathing. 

In for five, hold for five, out for seven, repeat. Rex tries, takes deep breaths, holds them in, and he almost manages to release them for the right amount of time, too. But then someone is knocking at the door, and he feels his heart rate spike again. 

Cody scowls at the door. “Enter,” he snaps, and his pissed-off al’verde voice is back. Standing in the doorway is Jesse, Kix, and Hardcase, because of course it is. Cody steps seamlessly in front of Rex, says “I hope this is important, troopers.” 

“Captain’s gotta be banging on the ceiling for a good reason, sir,” Hardcase says. “We just wanted to check everything’s alright.” 

“Are you alright, Captain?” Kix calls over Hardcase's shoulder. 

“Sir, where are the twins?” Jesse asks quietly. 

“Val dar,” Rex whispers before he even realises he's speaking, “val dar, val kyr'adyc.”

Cody whirls around and shoves Rex’s chest. “Nu kyr’adyc,” he growls. Some kind of look must cross Rex’s face, because Cody then grabs his kih’vod by the shoulders again, drawing him into a kov’nyn. “Mhi ven'mar’eyi ta’vode.” 

Rex nods as best he can with Cody’s head against his. “Vor entye, ori’vod.” 

“Nu entye.” Cody shakes Rex’s shoulders a little. “Gar vode, ner vode.” 

Rex swallows the sound he wants to make, simply nods instead. Another hand touches his shoulder, gentle but firm — Kix. He’s made to sit on the bed, and Kix runs through his ‘anti-freak-techniques’ (called that because as soon as he says the words ‘panic’ or ‘anxiety’, kaminiise shabuire are sticking their long necks in to add ‘defective’), asking Rex to run through things he can see and hear and feel. 

He hears the conversation Cody has with Jesse and Hardcase, knows that they get sent to the bridge to order a ship-wide scan for two four-year-old lifeforms, knows that Cody orders the other men wanting to peek in on their Captain (“They’re just worried, sir,” Kix says with a frown) back into their bunks or down to the mess if they can’t sleep, then feels Cody sitting at his side and pressing their shoulders together, a welcome grounding. 

Just as he’s feeling calm again, his commlink goes off. He flinches, and Cody and Kix both scowl, though not at him. Cody grabs it off the desk and answers for him. 

General Skywalker barely blinks at seeing the Marshal Commander instead of his Captain. “Commander, I heard about the twins. Rex?” 

“He's fine, sir,” Cody says evenly. “We’ll be up to the bridge shortly.” 

“That’s good,” Skywalker nods, although by his face he doesn’t quite believe it. Rex forces himself to straighten, stands up and goes to his ori’vod ’s shoulder. 

“General,” he says, and is stupidly proud of how normal his voice sounds. 

Skywalker offers him a half-hearted smile. “Good morning, Captain.” Then his face falls. “I’m sorry to be the one to tell you not to get your hopes up.” 

Rex’s stomach drops, and he thinks he swallows back bile. “Sir?” 

“The ship-wide scan has brought up nothing — as far as it’s aware there are no cadets on board. Your Lieutenant had the thought to check the security footage in the halls, and there’s no sign of them leaving. But, even if there was, we wouldn’t know. The ship experienced a power surge less than an hour ago, and all systems appear to have blacked out for a single second before rebooting.” 

Cody and Rex share a look. “What are you saying, General?” Cody asks. 

“I’m saying that at exactly oh-one-hundred, all ship systems blacked out, and on the surface of this planet, the storms ceased and appear to have completely changed the geographic layout. And now the twins are missing.” 

There are connections there that Rex’s tired and still slightly panicked brain can’t quite make, but Cody’s face darkens, and he nods. “We’ll be right up General.” 

“Head for the hangar,” Skywalker says. “It’s already been almost an hour since this happened, so we need to get down to the surface immediately. Obi-Wan and I will brief you fully on the way down.” 

Both Commander and Captain snap to attention. “Sir yes sir!” 

Cody flicks the comm off, turns to Rex. “Orders, Captain?” he says, and Rex wants to both punch him and hug him. 

Instead, he turns to Kix and says “Get your kit on, check in with Jesse and Hardcase and tell them to do the same. I want you three with us in case this goes south, which it inevitably will.” 

Kix snaps him a salute. “Sir yes sir!” He leaves, shutting the door behind him, and Rex looks at Cody. 

“Vor’e, ori’vod,” he says again because it really bears repeating. 

Cody smiles. “Anytime, kih’vod.” 

They put their armour on in silence, and each piece that Rex adds just reminds him of Echo and Fives. When he gets to his helmet he stops, looks up at Cody to see his ori’vod already watching him. Cody nods, and Rex doesn’t have to be jetii to know he’s making a promise. Mhi ven'mar’eyi ta’vode. 

Helmets get locked in place, and they leave the bunk together, their pace sending all troopers scampering out of their way. No one wants to stand between the Captain and Marshal Commander, and whatever it is that warrants them fully armoured and armed. 

As they walk Rex contacts Denal to make sure he knows what’s going on, and to check in with the bridge. He gets told the Generals and Commander have left for the hangar, but since then the secondary scan of the planet has been completed — there are now two lifeforms on the surface, both of them registering as small and human. Rex’s heart jumps, but his voice is steady as he thanks the Lieutenant, who sends through the coordinates and signs off with a sharp salute.

Cody doesn’t say anything when Rex begins jogging to the hangar, he just keeps pace. 

They make it to the hangar just after Kix and the others do, and they all hurry onto the transport so it can take off immediately. Generals Skywalker and Kenobi both nod at their respective Captain and Commander, and Tano gives Rex a smile. 

“We’ll get them back,” she says fiercely, “no matter what.” 

Rex bows his head, “Thank you, Commander,” he says, grateful his helmet disguises how choked up he sounds. 

He relays what Denal said about the scan, and the Generals tell him what they’ve discovered about the planet. 

The storm that passed over that quadrant appeared to be hiding a thorough terraforming process that turned the dusty canyons and gorges they were walking through the day before into a massive city. The coordinates where Fives and Echo originally went missing now appear to be the location of a large building — Kenobi calls it a temple, but Skywalker says it’s a fortress — and their new coordinates are only a few points south, roughly at the entrance. 

They’ve no idea what to expect. They don’t want to walk all the way through the quadrant to get the twins because it will take too much time but landing right at the gates of this temple-fortress is an insanely risky move, and even Skywalker, the biggest risk taker of them all, frowns at the idea. The planetary scan may have said there were only two lifeforms (and they have to be the twins, Rex isn’t sure what he’ll do if they aren’t) but that didn’t really mean it was uninhabited, especially considering the circumstances. 

In the end they decide time is of the essence, and that whatever is on the planet likely knows they’re coming. And on top of that, with the way Skywalker collapsed yesterday as they touched down, there’s no guarantee the jetiise would make it through the whole quadrant. Better to land as close as possible than try to sneak up and potentially lose their biggest assets. 

Just before they hit the surface, Kenobi steps between Skywalker and Tano, placing his hands on their shoulders and closing his eyes. Skywalker and Tano close theirs too, and although there’s no visible change, Rex could swear he feels the air shift around them, entirely separate from the movement of the transport, and the way it tightens around the jetiise like a coat. Like armour.

But then the transport is landing, and he can no longer think about it, instead moving to flank Cody, who takes point automatically. The others fall in beside him, Jesse on Cody’s other side, and Kix and Hardcase as rear guard. He hears Skywalker give instructions to the pilot to take off but stay close in case they need a quick evac, then the jetiise move in front of the clones in a curved, protective formation, a shield against whatever is going to greet them. 

They spill out into the middle of an empty main street, lined on either side with tall uniform buildings all made of the same red rock as the canyon they used to be. At the end of the street lies the vast fortress walls, also made of familiar layers of strata. It appears as if the city has been carved out of the surface — every line is perfectly straight and razor sharp, and although the buildings have windows, there’s no glass or curtains or shutters visible from the street. In fact, there’s no evidence that anything lives here at all. Aside from the buildings and the fortress walls, the only thing that can be seen is dust.  

The group makes their way down the street slowly, cautiously, with weapons out and ready. Rex has his sights on the buildings they walk past, knows that Jesse will be doing the same on the other side. Hardcase and Kix watch the collective’s six, and Cody sweeps the front where the jetiise walk with their jetii’kade out but not activated. The fortress towers over them all, and Rex can’t help but think of what Fives and Echo said only yesterday, before they vanished, about a heavy door that only opened of its own volition. Aloud, he says “What’s the plan for this?” 

“Jetiise, di’kut,” Cody answers. 

The Generals and Commander each have the hand not holding a jetii’kad stretched out, palms facing the walls, and with a shove forwards, the wall shakes and bursts inwards in a shower of rock and dust. 

Rex knocks his ori’vod ’s shoulder as they move forward, and even though he can’t see through the visor, he just knows Cody has that stupid grin. 

They clamber over the debris — rather, the clones clamber, and the jetiise jump over in a graceful leap, the cheaters — and take cover in what looks like a courtyard. Just like the rest of the city, it seems part of the planet itself, with statues of faceless people and reptilian creatures extending from the ground like any natural rock formation. There are fountains too, surprisingly delicate in style, waterless and covered in dust. A staircase large enough to fit the entirety of Torrent sits at the end of the courtyard, leading up to a massive circular pavilion that looks like it connects to the temple, and in the pavilion…  

Against all his training, Rex stops in his tracks. Hardcase, who was following behind him, stops as well, then curses violently. Cody turns to Rex, then follows his gaze, and inhales sharply. 

At each side of the pavilion, strung up between pillars, are the twins. Echo and Fives, still four-year-old cadets in jetii clothing, are unconscious, and there’s a trail of blood running down Fives’s temple. They’re held up by metal chains pulled taut, one for each arm and leg, spread-eagle like droid dummies for target practice. 

Rex doesn’t realise he’s running until someone grabs his arm, but he shakes them off and keeps going, only to be punted back by some invisible force as soon as he tries to ascend the stairs. He crashes into his vode, sends them all sprawling to the ground in a cacophony of groans and the crack of plastoid against plastoid. 

The dust they kicked up in their fall sits suspended in the air above them, and as Rex pulls himself to his feet, it begins to swirl on a breeze that comes out of nowhere. The jetiise jump to defend their soldiers as the dusty breeze starts to circle them, picking up viciously and crowding them close together. It howls around them, rising up in a funnel of dust and rock that threatens to drown them, before it all rushes away, leaving the group to stagger under the sudden lack of resistance.

All that's left is an eerie silence, and a humanoid figure standing at the entrance to the pavilion. They’re tall, even taller than General Skywalker, and swathed in robes the same rust-red colour as the rest of the landscape. Their face is red too, stark lines making them look like another statue in the courtyard as they glare down at the assembled group with rage not unlike that of Ventress when they interrupt her plans. It’s the brutal kind that promises swift retribution.

Skywalker, Kenobi, and Tano ignite their jetii’kade in tandem, and the figure’s face twists into a cruel smirk. 

“Did you really think I would just let you take off with my soldiers?” they say. They move fluidly towards Echo, tug on the chain around his left leg, and he makes a high-pitched, pained sound as the move pulls on his body unnaturally. 

A desperate surge of protectiveness rises in Rex like nothing he’s felt before, and he barely stops himself from racing for the stairs again. Distantly, he knows he should be better than this, he’s Captain of the karking 501st, but seeing Echo and Fives like that has broken something in him, and he will level this city, this entire karking planet, to get them back. He knows that more than he knows his own name. 

“Your soldiers?” Kenobi asks, voice hard and unyielding. 

“They wandered into my temple of their own volition.” The figure shrugs. “That makes them mine.”

“They’re four-year-olds!” Skywalker shouts. “Why would you want four-year-old soldiers?” 

“No one on this planet ever misses a child, and they’re so easy to teach.” They tug on the chain around Echo again, and grin at the gasp they hear. 

Cody’s hand lands on Rex’s shoulder, stopping him before he’s had a chance to move. “Udesii, alor’ad,” Cody says quietly. “Ke’pare.” 

Rex grits his teeth, but nods. 

His movement drew the figure’s gaze, and they cock their head like Rex is a particularly interesting specimen. It reminds him so much of the kaminiise that it’s a struggle not to take off again, despite Cody’s order. Their eyes flick through the troopers one by one before landing on Rex again, and he can see the moment where they disregard them as a threat. He tries not to bristle. Beings’ habits of underestimating clones have always been their downfall, and today will be no different. 

“Regardless of what you think,” Tano says, flipping her jetii’kad in her hand, “we’ll be taking them back now.” 

The figure grins again, a mean little slash in their face. “I’d like to see you try.” 

The jetiise move forward as a unit, clearly testing the barrier that is only noticeable by the slight shimmer in the air between the courtyard and the staircase. The figure laughs when they get repelled back just as Rex had been.

“Fan out!” Cody shouts. “We need to test its range.” 

Cody sweeps right, so Rex heads left, trusting his men to fall into position. They fire at the barrier as they go, ducking behind fountains and statues when their refracted blaster bolts get too close for comfort. The jetiise remain in front, deflecting the blaster fire and slashing at the barrier with their kade, even pulling on it with the Force when opportunity allows.

The figure just laughs more. 

Rex slides behind a particularly crocodilian statue, feels one of his vode drop beside him — Hardcase, judging by the laugh. He looks around the statue's edge, only to pull back when a bolt whizzes past his helmet. He waits a few seconds before chancing another look, and gets to see Skywalker launch himself off of Kenobi's shoulder to try and get over the barrier. 

But the figure sees him, and like a jetii might, he throws up a hand, palm up and fingers outstretched. Instead of landing on top of the figure, Skywalker rebounds off the barrier, flipping in the air so he lands back on his feet at the base of the stairs. Stairs that are now charred from blaster fire. 

“Hardcase,” Rex says. 

“I see it, sir.” Hardcase waves to Jesse, who is crouched behind a beetle-like statue, and makes a sign about concentrated fire. 

Jesse pauses. He looks to the stairs, and must make the same connections they did, because he signs a hasty affirmative.

Hardcase and Rex split up. Hardcase runs in Jesse's direction, yelling something that Rex can't quite parse, and gets the attention of both the jetiise and the figure. The latter narrows their eyes, following Hardcase's movements closely and even stepping forwards, as if to confront the trooper head-on. 

Rex takes the opportunity and runs to the far wall. He ducks behind the last statue, this one an armoured humanoid, lines up his shot against the statue's side, and fires. 

The bolt doesn't hit the figure, instead flying over their shoulder and exploding against the temple door, but it still does its job. The figure startles, whipping around and making a grabbing motion, lifting Rex off the ground and throwing him back across the courtyard towards his vode.

He lands at Hardcase's feet, his armour taking the brunt of the fall, although he'll be insanely bruised later, and he gets up just in time to watch Tano take advantage of the figure's distraction. She sprints up the stairs, leaping over the last few with perfect form, and plunges her jetii’kad through the figure’s middle. 

All firing stops — they don’t want to hit the Commander — and the group watches as the figure scowls in distaste, grabs Tano around the throat, and flings her away like an irritating insect. 

“Ahsoka!” Skywalker shouts, leaping up to catch his padawan before she collides with the fortress walls.

“You think your pesky glowstick is enough to kill me?” The figure roars. Their body sways, then spreads, growing and stretching like putty between invisible hands. They spill down the stairs, not unlike the dust storm they came from, expanding until they tower over the courtyard, as tall as the temple behind them, and almost entirely transparent. 

“It’s an apparition,” Kenobi gasps. 

“How do we kill it?” Skywalker snarls. 

Kix runs over to where the General sits with the Commander to give her a hasty field check, but she’s sitting up and growling, a mirror of her Master. 

The figure— the apparition, it turns to the clones, and with a vicious snarl it stretches a hand down towards them. 

“Scatter!” Cody shouts, and they do, leaping out of the way as the hand smacks into the ground and disintegrates into the dusty wind that created it. It growls, reaches out again to where Rex has dived beside Hardcase. They try to roll out of the way, only to crash into one of the many statues. The hand is getting closer, and Rex wants to shoot it, but he can’t because if a jetii’kad can’t kill it then a blaster bolt will go straight through and he can’t see well enough to know he won’t hit something— 

The hand stops just short of them, and the apparition yowls, whipping around to swat at Kenobi, who appears to be using the Force to pull it back. Kenobi leaps backwards to avoid the hand, landing near Skywalker and Tano. They have a short conversation, then Kix is ushered back to his vode and the jetiise line up again, grabbing the apparition when it lunges at Kix. 

“Get the twins!” Skywalker shouts when Rex and Hardcase start towards them. “Get the twins, we’ll hold it off!” 

Rex nods, turns to follow his vode up the stairs to the pavilion, only to hesitate at the top. He wants to go after both twins, and he freezes for an entire second before Cody tears past him, Kix following close behind. “We’ll get Fives!” Cody shouts over his shoulder. “You take care of Echo.”

“Yes, Commander,” Hardcase says, and he grabs Rex’s shoulder to shove him over to Echo. 

They start with the chains around his legs, and Rex holds Echo gently around the middle while Hardcase takes down the final two chains. He’s braced himself to take the weight, but it still throws him off balance as Echo slumps over his shoulder. He lowers his vod’ika to the ground, takes his pulse, and finally lets himself breathe when he feels it, weak and fluttering, but there. 

He looks over to where the others are, sees Cody trying to wake Fives up as Kix methodically cleans up the blood and examines the wound. Jesse stands guard at the entrance to the pavilion, eyes flicking between the jetiise keeping the apparition contained, and his vode. 

Rex picks Echo back up, carries him over to Kix, and sets him down gently next to Fives. “How is he?” 

“Physically, he seems fine, it’s a minor cut,” Kix says as he applies a bacta patch, although his voice doesn’t say fine. “I just don’t know why he won’t wake up.” 

“What?” Rex turns to Echo. He shakes him by the shoulder, shouts his name in his ear. He doesn’t want to try smacking him awake, hitting a cadet who can’t hit back is despicable at best, but Echo won’t wake up. 

“Echo won’t wake up either,” Hardcase says, voice sounding as panicked as Rex feels. 

Kix looks at Echo, takes his pulse, then sits back with a bitten off curse and looks over at the apparition. Rex doesn’t need to look to know the jetiise are struggling — his ears work just fine. 

He looks up at Cody, sees his ori’vod already looking back at him. “We need to take them into the temple,” Cody says quietly, “so that one of the jetiise can find their older selves and bring them back. Then, we blow this place sky high.” 

“I like the way you think, Commander,” Jesse says with a grim smirk. 

“And hopefully that’ll destroy that thing out there too.” Kix adds. 

They all look to Rex. 

He sighs, looks down at the twins. He hears Tano cry out, hears Skywalker shout her name again. The apparition laughs, then screams. There’s a loud crash, and the roof of the pavilion shakes above them. Echo mumbles something, but he doesn’t wake, and that protective rage rears its head again. He grits his teeth, then growls. 

“We got explosives, boys?”  

He knows they’re grinning now. “Plenty, sir,” Hardcase laughs, more than a little maniacal.  

Rex nods. “Good. Light her up.” 

Jesse cackles, Hardcase whoops, and Cody stands up to shove them into the temple. He and Kix lift Echo and Fives, respectively, and follow the others while Rex runs down the stairs to relay the plan to the jetiise. 

He gets to Commander Tano, tells her as quickly as he can, and she nods. “Alright, I’ll go with you to help the twins; Anakin and Obi-Wan will keep the apparition distracted. We won’t have long, though, until they tire out.” 

“With the explosives the boys are rigging up, we’ll have even less,” Rex says grimly, and together they sprint up the stairs, both having to ignore the instinct to turn around when Skywalker cries out again. 

The difference between the noise of the courtyard and the dead silence of the temple is stark, and the way the rhythm of their footsteps gets absorbed by centuries worth of dust is more than a little foreboding. Starlight filters through small windows near the ceiling, only serving to enhance the eerie atmosphere. It must have been grand, when it actually existed, but now it’s just like everywhere else — from the sparse furniture and the miniature versions of the statues outside, to the rugs and tapestries on the floor and walls, everything is dusty red strata. 

They pass through quickly, down a narrow corridor also lined with rocky tapestries, and burst into a wide, circular room with curved bench seats running all around the edges, a spiral that leads to a raised platform in the middle. Kix and Cody stand atop it, gently laying the twins down. They don’t need to check that these are the original coordinates — Rex can feel it in his bones. 

“Any idea on how to wake them up?” he calls as he and Tano make their way down the spiral. 

“You won’t be able to,” Tano answers before Kix can say anything, “because they’re in a Force trance. It just means a deep sleep,” she explains at Rex’s alarmed look, “but one induced by the Force. It’s probably a good thing, honestly. I get the feeling this is gonna hurt.” 

“Just do what you gotta do, Commander,” Rex says, although he knows his voice sounds uneven. 

Tano gives him a soft smile as she jumps up to the platform, settling down beside the twins with crossed legs. She places one hand on Fives’s forehead, the other on Echo’s, and closes her eyes, slipping into that blank, meditative look from the day before. Rex stands guard in front of the platform, sees Kix do the same at the entrance to the room, while Cody slips out with a quick sign saying he’s going to check in on Jesse and Hardcase. 

‘Hurry up and wait’ has always been Rex’s least favourite mission objective, and he can’t stop himself from periodically looking over his shoulder to check on the twins and Tano. There’s very little change, except for a few flickers in Tano’s expression and the occasional twitch from Echo and Fives, and it takes some very long minutes for anything of real note to happen.

Finally, Tano gasps, and Rex spins around to watch her reach out with both hands and grab something that Rex can’t see. When she touches it, the air in front of her shimmers, and then she has two strands, or bundles, maybe, of bright white light in her hands. They seem to fight against her, and with a distinctly Togrutan growl she yanks them down towards the twins, and then pushes her hands through their chests. 

Rex knows his eyes are wide behind his helmet, like a shiny on his first battlefield, but he can’t help it. He’s never seen the Force used this way and can’t help his shock. Then the twins jerk beneath her, and it takes considerable effort for him not to try and pull them away from her. There’s an odd click, like the sound of a blaster’s safety, and then Tano pulls her hands back to herself and collapses backwards, panting harshly. 

Rex scrambles to get on top of the platform, dropping beside the twins to check on them. At first, they don’t look any different, and panic zips through him, but then he notices… ripples, for lack of a better word, spreading across their faces, then their whole bodies. 

“What’s… Commander, what’s happening to them?” He tries to ignore the shake in his voice.

“What?” Tano sits back up, nudges Rex out of the way, then gasps as Echo starts to seize. His shoulders shake, and the ripple effect radiates across him, all the way to his fingers which, as Rex watches, seem to be getting longer. 

“They’re— growing?” he asks, although the question is more rhetorical than anything. Now that he can see it, they’re clearly getting older, rapidly so. 

“I… I guess so?” Tano shrugs, watching the twins with concern. “I’ve never done this before, but—” 

“We have to get clear!” Hardcase yells as he sprints into the room, Cody and Jesse hot on his heels. “We have to go, she’s gonna blow.” 

“What happened?” Cody asks. “Did it work?” 

“We think so?” Tano says, and then Fives cries out, body jerking violently. Tano jumps, and Rex moves forward to grab Fives’s shoulders, so he doesn’t hit his head. “I don’t know! It’s not like there are instructions, but I know I made the reconnection, I felt it!” 

“Look,” Jesse says, not harsh but firm, “there’s nothing we can do here. This place really is gonna go up soon, and whatever happened, we need to be alive if we want to deal with it.” 

Tano takes a deep breath and nods, determined. “Right, you're right. Let's get outta here, boys.”

This time it’s Rex and Commander Tano who carry the twins, the others forming a protective ring around them. It’s a tight squeeze through the corridor, and the entrance hall is no less unsettling the second time around, but Rex can’t even feel relieved to leave them behind, as they emerge into chaos. 

Most of the courtyard has been decimated, with many of the statues and fountains scattered across the ground in pieces. Parts of the pavilion and staircase have been destroyed too, leaving Rex and his group to split up to avoid the debris. Even from this distance, they can see that both Generals are sporting a fair amount of blood and bruising themselves. 

Just as they reach the base of the stairs, Skywalker yells out a curse, Kenobi jumping up to catch him as he’s dropped from a twenty-storey height. They both go down in a messy roll, and Tano rushes to pass Echo onto Jesse so she can grab hold of the apparition with the Force and all her might. 

Her distraction allows Rex and Jesse time to run across the courtyard, back to the fortress wall they’d knocked down when they first arrived, so they can keep the twins in relative safety. Kix is right on their heels, immediately dropping down to examine Fives and Echo, both of whom are still shaking violently, while waving Rex and Jesse back. “Go help the others, I’ve got them.” 

“I’ll watch your back,” Jesse says. To Rex, he adds, “Go help our boys,” and Rex nods, launching himself into the fight. 

Commander Tano is struggling to hold the apparition on her own, Cody and Hardcase trying to wake the Generals up while carrying them as far from the soon-to-be-exploding temple as they can. Tano screams as she gets yanked across the ground again, and Rex darts forward to shoot the apparition straight through the head. 

Of course, it’s an apparition, so it doesn’t harm the thing any, but once again it’s enough to distract. The apparition turns to Rex and screeches, swooping down on him like a predator ready to swallow him whole. 

He dives out of the way, rolling behind one of the last remaining fountains, only for it to shatter above him, covering him in rock and dust. He really hates how this thing can just pick and choose what it touches and what touches it. He shakes off, turning around to see Tano pulling the thing back again. It spins around to grab at her, and Rex shoots it again, another perfect shot if he could actually hit it. 

They go back and forth, but it only takes a few shots for the thing to give up and dive at Cody, Hardcase, and the Generals. Tano shouts, uses the Force to shove them out of the way, and the apparition goes sprawling through its own temple. Rex runs over to the group, Tano just behind him, and together they pull the four to their feet. Just as they’re ready to move again, the ground shakes beneath their feet.

The first explosion has gone off. 

“We need to move!” Hardcase yells, tugging on Rex’s arm. “The whole thing’s about to blow!” 

Rex scrambles after him, pulling General Skywalker with him. Tano and Cody have got Kenobi between them, and they all run as fast as they can for the relative cover of the collapsed wall. There’s a second explosion, then a third and a fourth. The ground continues to shake under their feet, and Rex stumbles more than once. A fifth explosion, and the apparition surges up in front of them with an inhuman howl. 

They swerve to avoid it, but it starts to spin, the vague body shape dispersing back into a spiralling dust storm, impossibly strong winds ripping them off their feet and away from each other. Dust particles and pieces of rock ping off Rex’s armour as he gets pulled into the vortex. He can barely hear the last few explosions over the howling, over his own screams, but then it turns to screeching, and the storm implodes. 

There’s a burst of light, rumbling rock, cracking plastoid, and— 

—|/O\|—

Echo wakes up choking, his mouth and throat and lungs coated in dust. His entire body aches, and he feels weirdly constricted in a number of places that tell him the clothes he’s wearing are far too small. He shuffles his body, turns so he’s lying on his back instead of his stomach, and forces his eyes open. 

Bad idea, terrible idea, what the kark are you thinking? The light is blindingly bright, endless azure making his guts twist with nausea, and he rolls back to his stomach so he can throw up bile without suffocating himself. He drags himself to his elbows, if only to crawl far enough away that he isn’t lying in his own sick, and he startles when he comes across a hand. 

A hand, that’s attached to an arm, stuck inside a sleeve that has burst at the seams because it’s too small for the person wearing it. For the clone wearing it. 

Echo tugs on the hand, and the vod jolts upright and pulls it away, only to turn away and do exactly as Echo had. He’s just grateful they didn’t throw up on his head — that would’ve been unpleasant. 

“Urgh, what the kark, ni aala osik’la,” the man groans, and every clone’s voice is familiar, but Echo knows exactly who this is. 

“Fives?” 

“Echo?” 

“Oh, thank manda,” Echo says, and slumps back down to lie on his face. He hears Fives snort, then groan again, and feels him slide down so they’re curled against one another, turned away from the too-bright sky. 

“Any idea where the kriff we are?” Fives mutters. 

“Another dry, dusty, Seppie planet, I imagine,” Echo says, then frowns. Why do those words feel familiar? It’s not quite déjà vu, he’s said them in the wrong order (and that’s concerning in itself, Echo doesn’t forget things, his memory is one of his only talents), but he’s heard them somewhere, probably recently. He supposes that if they are in fact on a Separatist planet then a number of their vode have spoken them, but there’s a specific memory he’s reaching for, it’s on the tip of his tongue— 

“Fives! Echo!” 

Rex. 

Echo tries to shout back, but his throat is still sore from the dust, and he feels Fives grab his hand to raise them up in the air, a signal that they’re alive. 

“Oh, karking osik, it worked!” Another voice shouts, this one less familiar… 

“Kix,” Fives mumbles as if he knows what Echo is thinking. “Kriffing mar’e, my head is aching.” 

“Kix,” Echo repeats, another memory surfacing. He has the feeling that he’s missing a rather large chunk of time, but he doesn’t have the chance to think it through. Gloved hands are grabbing him, plastoid clacking together as he gets rolled onto his back and forced to face the light (there’s a burst of light, rumbling rock, cracking plastoid, and—) 

He flinches, then groans, then something is blocking the light from him, and he finally blinks his eyes open to see Rex, helmetless and looking at Echo with the kind of open concern he usually wouldn’t dare let show on the battlefield. 

“That bad, huh?” Echo manages, and Rex snorts a startled laugh. 

“Shut up vod’ika,” he grins. 

“Vod’ika? Oh, manda, I must be really karked.” 

For some reason that makes Rex’s face fall, and Echo feels inordinately guilty and doesn’t know why. “I think I hit my head,” he says, “because my memories feel fuzzy, far away.” 

Rex frowns, but still looks sad, like he lost his favourite tooka or something. He looks over, reaches out to grab someone, and then Kix is appearing in front of him, scowling. 

“What’s the last thing you remember?” The medic asks, voice harried and frustrated. 

“If you have other patients to check up on, you can,” Echo says, “I only feel a little concussed.” 

“Kark, you’re as bad as your twin,” Kix mutters. 

Echo blinks. “Twin?” 

As soon as the word passes his lips, as soon as Rex and Kix frown, Echo finds himself somewhere else, strapped to a table and unable to move, he wriggles and shakes and screams but they won’t stop they just keep poking him and jabbing him and electrocuting him and his ta’vod is screaming too they’re a wretched harmony in a sterile room and the kaminiise don’t care they just poke and jab and poke and jab and electrocute they keep asking for his number they keep asking for his ta’vod and he can only scream and scream and scream —

Chapter Text

This time, Echo wakes up slowly. 

The first thing he’s aware of is the warm press of Fives against his back, and he knows it’s Fives because no one else does immovable barnacle quite like his ta’vod. 

The second thing he’s aware of is the rumbling of a transport breaking atmo, which is probably what woke him — that, or the way Fives’s arm around his waist has gotten uncomfortably tight. 

The third thing he’s aware of is Rex’s thigh beneath his head, Rex’s hands stroking through his hair. At least, he thinks it’s Rex, because the fourth thing he’s aware of is Rex’s voice mumbling a nonsensical jumble of Mando’a and Basic. 

The fifth thing is Fives’s arm loosening its grip, and his fingers moving across his stomach and chest. He’s spelling words out, Echo realises, something they did when they were tiny cadets wanting to gossip without the kaminiise finding out. 

ok? Fives asks. 

Echo traces his reply along Fives’s forearm. not rlly. 

Fives pinches him lightly, which Echo knows is agreement. remember?  

Echo frowns. idk, he writes because he really doesn’t know, his memories are— 

“I think I hit my head,” he says, “because my memories feel fuzzy, far away.”

“Echo?” Rex says above them, and Echo curses internally. He hadn't meant to say that out loud. Fives’s arm squeezes his middle again, not in admonishment, but acknowledging that they had to face the music sooner or later. 

Domino Squad had always been stupidly impressed with the way Echo and Fives could communicate without opening their mouths. It had been funny to mess with them, but more fun when they showed them the writing thing. They could only use Basic in writing because they don’t get formally taught Mando’a , but they could still share secrets, say dumb things like have u noticed ilo sa’s butt looks like— and ilo sa is krkn thicc. Of course, it was less funny when— it was less funny after… 

“Echo?” Rex says again, sounding almost panicked. “Fives?” 

Echo squeezes Fives’s wrist, and they sit up together, turning to their alor'ad. He winces at the feeling of too-tight clothing pulling against his skin, tugs on the soft material at his neck. It isn't his body-glove, or any regulation clone gear at all, actually. In fact, they look suspiciously jetii in nature.

Rex literally slumps in relief when Echo and Fives face him, and Echo shoots Fives a glance. His ta’vod is dressed similarly to him, and has a bacta patch on his left temple, dried blood crusted in his ear. Fives looks back at him, shrugs his shoulders the tiniest bit. Echo raises a brow, tilts his head in Rex’s direction. Fives’s eyes widen, and he shakes his head without really shaking it. Echo tilts his head again, a little more insistently, and Fives nods at Echo. Not in agreement, but in a you do it gesture. Echo scowls. 

“What are you two… talking about?” Rex asks, watching them warily. 

Fives nudges Echo’s shoulder, and Echo shoves him. 

“Are you okay, Captain?” Fives finally asks. 

Rex’s face shutters before going carefully blank, and alarm bells go off in Echo’s mind. 

“What’s the last thing you remember?” Rex asks quietly. 

Echo looks at Fives again, and Fives is chewing his lip in thought. He had asked Echo earlier what he remembered, but Echo didn’t get a chance to return the question, and it seems that Fives is having the same problem. 

“We were on a planet,” Fives starts, and Echo can’t help his snort. Fives glares. “Can you do better?” 

“Sorry, it’s just,” Echo waves his hand in a vague gesture, and Fives smacks it when it gets too close to his face. Echo snorts again. “It’s just that we’re always either on a planet or on the Resolute, and we’ve been to half a dozen planets at this point, and we’re currently on a transport leaving a planet, so that seems pretty obvious, and I don’t think you actually remember that.” 

“You don’t know that.” Fives rolls his eyes, although he noticeably doesn’t continue. Echo refrains from repeating his words back to Fives (he didn’t say he knows, he said he thinks, or doesn’t think, rather, doesn’t think that Fives actually remembers being on ‘a planet’) because he knows that it annoys him when he does. 

He can’t remember when that became a thing, Fives getting annoyed at his ‘echoing’, but he has a voice in his head telling him to stop repeating every order! and he doesn’t think it’s Fives, but he knows Fives didn’t step in to defend him. Fives always stepped in to defend him, and he’d always stepped in to defend Fives, because they’re vode, ta’vode, they had to look out for each other. The only other people they had were the other three cadets in Domino, and even they struggled to accept their weirder batchmates sometimes. They were twin clones, practically unheard of, how come you vaar’ike get to avoid being defective, kaminii sheb’urcyine, maybe we gotta teach you something 'bout that.

“The last thing I remember is being reconditioned,” Echo hears himself say.

Fives looks at him with wide eyes. “Me too, but I thought I was crazy because that— it had to have been years ago now.” 

“When were you reconditioned,” Rex asks, voice carefully even, “and why?” 

“When we were five years and two months,” Echo says, “and it was because we’re twins.” 

“Because,” Fives says heatedly, “we were dragged from our bunks and told we had to fight each other if we wanted to see our squad again, and when we refused, they beat us up before reporting us to the kaminiise as being ‘too attached to each other’.” 

A dangerous look falls over Rex’s face. “Dragged from your bunks? By Priest?” 

Echo flinches and nods. 

Rex takes a deep breath in, holds it for a few seconds, then releases it, before reaching out for Echo and Fives, telegraphing his moves the whole way. Neither of them moves, and he places his hands on their shoulders before pulling them into him, into a gentle three-way kov’nyn. 

“Gar morut’yc,” Rex says lowly, “mhi ja’haili gar.” 

Echo once again swallows his automatic response, but less because he thinks it’ll be annoying and more because he knows it’s unnecessary. Rex isn’t saying that because he thinks they’re still worried about being taken away to the battle circle; Rex is reminding them that, even if they can’t quite remember at the moment, they got out, and have a legion of vode ready to defend them. 

“Vor’e, ori’vod,” Fives whispers. 

Rex’s eyes widen. “Anytime, kih’vod,” he says, voice sounding choked. 

There’s a knock on a door that Echo hadn’t noticed — he hadn’t really looked at his surroundings at all, which is really poor form for a soldier — and Kix sticks his head in. 

“Captain, we’re about to- oh, hey Echo, Fives, good to see you awake.” He enters the room and shoots Rex a glare. “You were supposed to tell me when they woke up.” 

“Sorry, Kix, I was… distracted,” Rex says. 

Kix frowns at him, but before he can reply there’s a thud, and the ship rattles a bit, probably entering the Resolute’s hangar. Kix glances at the door he came through, then turns to Echo and Fives. “You two will have to come straight to the medbay with me. You as well,” he points at Rex, “because I know you’ve been avoiding me, which means you’re injured and trying to refuse treatment. Also, because I’ll need you to help fill them in.” 

Rex sighs, holding his hands up in surrender when Kix glares at him again. 

Echo looks at Fives, sees Fives already looking at him. There’s a crease of concern between Fives’s brows, and Echo shrugs minutely. There isn’t a lot they can do now except make sure the Captain gets the medical aid he needs, whether he wants it or not. 

They disembark slowly, having to carry Lieutenant Jesse and Marshal Commander Cody since they were injured during… whatever actually happened. They’re happy to see Echo and Fives, but shoot Rex concerned glances when Kix says they still don’t remember. 

Still ? Echo knows he and Fives are missing a lot — injuries throughout the group indicate a collapse or an explosion of some sort, so amnesia isn't exactly unusual — but the way everyone keeps looking at Rex as if he’s the one who’s been injured or lost something… it worries Echo. 

Following close behind them are Generals Skywalker and Kenobi, and Commander Tano, all supporting each other down the ramp. Echo makes eye contact with Tano, offers her a smile that she returns with a little wave. The jetiise don’t follow them to the medbay, Skywalker and Kenobi instantly getting called to the bridge to take a holocall while Tano follows after them, and Kix mutters about how he’ll have to track them all down later. 

Sergeant Coric meets them at the hangar’s entrance with two repulsorlift stretchers for Jesse and Cody, and once both have been laid down despite their protests, they head down to the medbay. Some troopers stop to cheer when they notice Echo and Fives walking behind Rex and Hardcase — some even stop to clap them on the shoulders, saying things like “It’s good to see you back to normal” that have Rex glaring at them and ordering them away. 

Fives’s hand brushes Echo’s wrist, and he knocks their elbows lightly. Kix said they would get filled in — they just have to wait. He can tell by the set of Fives’s shoulders that he isn’t happy about that. 

It feels like it takes forever for them to get there, especially with how often they get stopped, but they eventually make it, all eight of them squishing into one of the few private rooms they have. Two cots get wheeled into the room for Jesse and Cody, and Coric and Kix immediately set to work treating them. Their injuries are serious, but not life-threatening, so the atmosphere is tense, but not panicked. 

Echo, Fives, Rex, and Hardcase all do their best to stay out of the medics’ ways, crowding against the furthest wall and not making a sound. By mutual, unspoken agreement, Echo and Fives have placed themselves on either side of Rex, brushing their shoulders against his in the hopes of calming him down a bit. Hardcase stands on Fives’s other side, and Echo catches him smothering a grin when he notices what they’re doing, but he doesn’t say anything. 

They all watch the medics work until Jesse rolls his head to the side, squinting at Rex. “What are you waiting for, Captain? Get on with story time.” 

Cody snorts, then groans as it knocks his ribs. Echo looks over in concern, and wonders if Kix isn’t being less gentle than he should be. 

Rex rolls his eyes, although no one missed how he tensed at the noise Cody made. “Watch yourself, Kot’ika, you’re not as young as you once were.” 

It still startles Echo, sometimes, to hear his superiors refer to each other so casually. He knows they’re all vode, and that the lines are always blurry between working relationships and personal relationships (since they’re pretty much always on the clock), but protocol would say that neglecting to use the titles of superior officers is a punishable offence. He's learning that it’s different when the superior and/or the neglectful subordinate is your vod. 

“Kark you,” Cody says pleasantly. “Story time, please.” 

Rex rolls his eyes again, sighs, then starts to speak. 

It takes a long time for him to tell the whole tale, especially when the others start pitching in. Neither Echo nor Fives say a word the entire time. They nod and laugh and scowl in all the right places, but they don’t say anything. There isn’t really much they can say. 

De-aging via the Force? It sounds karking ridiculous. It sounds like a silly story a very small Echo would spin for his ta'vod when Fives couldn’t sleep, constantly waking up from nightmares he didn’t remember. But the tone in Rex’s voice, and the fact that everyone is in on it, make it difficult to dispute, not to mention the ringing familiarity of it all. Some of it, he can see in his head clear as day, but plenty still feels distant, like a dream watched in third person.

He’s very aware that some things are still being left out, though. Moments that sound skimmed over, and memories that pop up that Rex doesn’t mention. He catches Fives’s eyes and can tell he’s had the same thought. They’ll ask Rex later. 

When they get to the end, where the group found Echo and Fives unconscious on-planet, Kix holds up a hand to stall further comments. “What do you remember about being twins?” he asks. “Because after you first woke up as yourselves, when I mentioned it to you, Echo, you had a major panic attack and pretty much blacked out. But Rex said the word just before, and you didn’t react.” 

Echo looks to Fives, whose face has fallen into a dark scowl. “We were reconditioned,” Echo says quietly, “when we were five years and two months, because we’re twins.” 

“Why do you keep saying that?” Fives snaps, whirling to face Echo. “It wasn’t our fault!” 

“No,” Echo agrees, “but that’s still the reason. They only let us live in the first place because they were curious about how well we’d succumb to their polished training program. But after that incident when we were four, they were waiting for a chance to decommission us.” 

“Decommission?” Hardcase recoils. 

“What incident?” Rex asks. 

“They were always threatening us with decommissioning,” Fives says with a growl, “talking ‘bout how we were defective, lucky they’d let us live this long, karking chakaaryc demagolkase.” 

“The incident was a training sim,” Echo explains, “with a kaminii trainer.” 

Everyone winces at that. There were three different kinds of trainers one could get as a cadet: fellow vode, the ARCs and Alphas, who could be harsh and brutal, but at least they saw you as people; the Cuy’val Dar, most of whom definitely didn’t see clones as people, just soldiers and cannon fodder; and the kaminiise themselves, who see the clones as more of a biological experiment than anything else and prove it with their dispassion and lack of empathy. 

“He told us that we had to run the sim until we completed it, and it was way above any four-year old’s level. That was the point, though; Domino Squad was always being pushed to do more than the rest of our year, because of Fives and me. On our fifth run through, I tripped, landed on my face, and broke my nose. Fives fell behind to help me and demanded that our training be stopped so I could go to the medbay. When the trainer refused…” 

“I told that shabuir to see how he liked it, and punched him in the face,” Fives says, a viciously proud grin on his face. “‘Course, kaminiise don’t really have noses, so I actually broke his eye socket.” 

Echo smiles. He’d yelled at Fives when it first happened, but he’s always been proud of his twin for that. “We were usually pretty careful, since we knew what the outcome of any infraction would be, and that was our first major strike. But it was enough.” 

Fives’s grin falls. “Then, when we were dragged into one of Priest’s battle circles and refused to fight each other, they sold us out to the kaminiise for decommissioning.” 

“We had been displaying unusual levels of attachment to each other, and aggression towards our trainers and peers,” Echo recites dully, “particularly in situations where we had to be separated.” 

A heavy silence falls. There’s a gradient of wrath and hate and sorrow painted across all the vode in the room. Kix and Coric have finished treating Jesse and Cody and are hovering like they want to treat Echo and Fives too but know that these wounds are not the visible kind. Jesse is scowling viciously, Cody’s jaw is clenched tightly, and Hardcase is glaring into middle distance, clearly wishing for a kaminii to punch. 

Rex is a solid line of tension, trembling slightly from the effort of holding it in, and Echo bumps his shoulder in reassurance. He relaxes minutely at the touch, and when Fives presses against his other shoulder, he takes a deep breath and visibly forces himself to calm down. 

“But you weren’t decommissioned,” Coric finally says. 

“They changed their mind last minute and decided to recondition us instead,” Fives says, “to test how it would work on a full squad.” 

“They reconditioned all of Domino?” Kix frowns. “But that would ruin all the cohesion you’d built over the years.” 

“It did,” Echo realises. “They wanted to see what would happen, and that’s what happened. We’d basically forgotten about each other, our dynamic was forcibly changed, so our unit cohesion was shot. We became completely dysfunctional. They probably decided we’d make good cannon fodder and just gave up.” 

Rex shoots to his feet, growling under his breath as he paces across the room. Echo’s eyes widen, and he shares a glance with Fives. They’d both told him all about Domino, about how they’d been left behind until the jetiise finally arrived — until General Shaak Ti stepped in and gave them a second chance. 

“Udesii, Ret’ika,” Cody calls quietly, and Rex stops, breathes deeply again. 

He turns back around, pins the twins with a fierce look. “You aren’t cannon fodder,” he says quietly. “None of us are. No matter how defective the kaminiise think we are.” There’s a note of personal agony in his voice, and Echo carefully doesn’t look at Rex’s blonde hair, noticeable even with how short the Captain keeps it, and he carefully doesn’t think about the breathing exercises Kix taught them all, the ones the Captain uses on the regular. 

“So,” Kix says slowly, clearly trying to get the conversation back on track, “you were twins in the tube, but reconditioned to forget about it so you’d be less attached to each other, but because the de-aging sent you to before the reconditioning, you’ve broken through it and remember again.” 

Echo looks at Fives, and they both shrug. “Sounds about right,” they say in unison. 

For some reason, that makes everyone laugh. It’s not really funny, but it works to break the tension, and Rex sits back down at the foot of Cody’s bed. Kix instantly descends on him with a medical scanner, much to his chagrin. 

“What I want to know is,” Hardcase says, all forced levity, “who’s the older twin?”

“I am,” Echo says, at the same time Fives says “Me, obviously.” They glare at each other, and the laughter that time is more genuine. 

A sharp beeping cuts through the laughter, and Rex looks down at his vambrace with a muttered, heartfelt “Osik.” Kix backs away as Rex accepts the call, straightening as much as he can and wiping away any remaining anger. “General,” he says as a little blue Skywalker pops up. 

“Captain,” the General smiles, though it looks a little strained. “I’m sorry to pull you away from your brothers but the Council has just called with a new mission for us, and I’d like your assistance in building a plan of attack.” 

“Of course, General,” Rex says, though it’s fairly obvious he doesn’t want to leave. 

Skywalker doesn’t notice, or if he does, he doesn’t say anything, simply nods. “Thanks Rex. We’ll be in the war room when you’re ready.” 

Cody taps Rex’s shoulder, and Rex shuffles so they’re both in frame. “General,” Cody says, “do you need my assistance as well?” 

“Considering that you are in the medbay,” says General Kenobi’s voice, although he doesn’t show up in the call, “for an injury that was supposed to be healed last week, I would prefer you stay put, Commander. We’ll call you once the good Captain arrives and you can assist while resting.” 

Cody flushes just slightly at the glare Kix sends him. “Yes, General.” 

Skywalker gives Cody a sympathetic grin before he signs off, and Rex sighs, sliding off the bed and landing on his feet with a solid thud. “Alright, the rest of you should take the chance to rest as well. Head to the showers, the mess, take a nap, whatever helps you wind down.” 

“Sir yes sir!” They shout together, and Rex smiles, just a bit, as he goes.

Kix and Coric pull Echo, Fives, and Hardcase to their feet, finally forcing them into a full medical scan and check, before sending them off to do whatever it is they want. They decide to do exactly as the Captain ordered. 

They shower first, and Echo breathes a sigh of relief as he finally peels off the tiny jetii clothing that must’ve been the only thing on board that would fit cadets. Sliding back into his body-glove feels better than he’d ever imagined it would; after all this time, the feel of the fabric against his skin is a comfort and gives him a sense of safety. Hardcase then takes them to the quartermaster to retrieve a new set of armour and their old helmets (“Kept for remembrance,” Hardcase says quietly, “but thank manda we didn’t need it, eh?”). 

Once kitted up — that is, they’re armoured, but not armed, since there isn’t any expectation of trouble out here (knock on steel), Echo just wants to feel the weight of his armour after days without it — they head to the mess, where they are once again greeted with something of a riot. People have questions, it makes sense, but all the noise and crowding of his vode makes him feel twitchy. Even Fives, who usually thrives under such attention, looks a bit like he wants to escape to a dark corner. 

Hardcase gets everyone to buzz off eventually, shamelessly flexing some of his Sergeant authority in the process. They eat in silence, a stark contrast to their last time in the mess together. 

Echo finds himself recalling more and more memories from the past few days, and he’s more than a little annoyed by how stupidly grateful he is for it. He knows that Fives finds his memory impressive — or at least, he did prior to their reconditioning (and isn’t that all kinds of karked, when he thinks about it? All it took to drive them apart was to make them forget they were twins, as if they couldn’t get along just being vode. Although he does wonder whether it wasn’t a long-lasting aversion that the reconditioning gave them; that being forced to forget (and ignore, he thinks that might’ve been in there too) his twin made him reluctant to engage with said twin afterwards) — but every clone is engineered to have good memory, his is just more eidetic than average. 

A lot of the memories are in line with what he expected and what he and Fives were told by the others — meeting the Generals and Commander Tano, an entire legion of vode scrambling to entertain them, the sparring match between the Captain and the Marshal Commander (and he would have been devastated if he’d forgotten that) — but there are other moments, moments that Rex didn’t mention in his retelling. 

He remembers Hardcase grinning as he showed them to Rex’s quarters, remembers him telling them some completely unbelievable story about the General and the Captain that he swore actually happened. Echo is sure he fell asleep then, because after that is something much hazier, more feeling than anything else. He gets shuffled, words are spoken, and he’s wrapped in warmth after shivering without blankets. 

He remembers waking up to Fives sitting up beside him, thinking about something and visibly struggling with it. He remembers the conversation they had about what supposedly had happened to them, about what they thought the jetiise might have to do. He remembers the conversation with Rex — he remembers a number of conversations with Rex, actually, that didn’t come up earlier. 

He remembers being told about Domino Squad. 

He’s pulled from his reverie by Fives nudging his shoulder. Echo looks over, sees a question in his ta’vod ’s face. He shrugs in answer, deliberately turns his gaze to Hardcase, who has his head leaning on his fist and is falling asleep. He reaches across and gently pushes on Hardcase’s forehead until the Sergeant startles awake. 

Hardcase laughs sheepishly when he realises what happened. “Guess I’m off to nap, then. You two coming?” 

“Nah,” Fives answers, “we’ve been asleep for ages already.” 

It’s both true and untrue. When they were taken as cadets, they were asleep, and then they woke up and Echo had a panic attack and blacked out, apparently. That is to say, despite being unconscious for most of the recent action, he doesn’t feel rested. But he and Fives need to talk to Rex. 

(They haven’t actually verbally agreed that that’s what they’re going to do, but he knows that Fives wants to, and he knows that Fives knows that he wants to as well. Ta’vod osik, Hevy used to say, before he was ever named Hevy. Echo shoves the pain of the thought away before he can even feel it.) 

“A’ight,” Hardcase says, yawning. He stands up, picks up his tray. “Guess I’ll see you vode later then.” 

“Good night, Hardcase,” Echo says, then frowns. “Actually, it’s morning now, so good morning, I guess.” 

Hardcase chuckles. “Good mornin’ Echo. Fives.” 

As Hardcase walks off, Echo notices that though the crowds have lessened since they first walked in, they are clearly still eager for a possible chance to confront the two that magically transformed into cadets for a yet unknown reason. He nudges Fives, Fives nudges him back, and together they follow Hardcase to dump their trays before booking it out of the mess. 

It doesn’t take them long to make their way to the Captain’s quarters — by now, they’ve both learnt the way by heart. Echo knocks on the door, three solid customary thumps that basically say, ‘a clone is here’. When there’s no response from inside and the door doesn’t swish open, he turns back to Fives and shrugs. “Must still be with the Generals.” 

Fives nods, walking backwards until he hits the other wall of the corridor. With the awful squeak of plastoid against durasteel, he slides down until he’s sitting on the floor. He lets his legs splay out, making himself an obstacle for anyone who needs to walk past. 

Echo snorts. “You’re such a nuisance, Fives.” 

“What?” Fives says, putting his hand over his chest in mock offence. “I am not. They can all walk around me, I’m not that big.” 

“That’s for sure,” Echo says as he follows suit and sits down across from his ta’vod. He does the responsible thing and keeps his knees to his chest. “Vod’ika,” he adds, just to watch Fives’s face twist in outrage. 

“I am not!” He says again, more fervent this time. “There’s literally zero way I’m the younger twin.” 

“Sounds like something a younger twin would say.” 

“Shut up, Ey’ika.” 

“After you, Raysh’ika.” 

They fall silent when a person walks past, one of the nat-born officers who glares at Fives as they step over his legs. Fives just grins, cocking his leg to force them to jump so they don't trip. Echo stifles a laugh, but he knows Fives caught him anyway. 

Fives’s face goes oddly serious then, and he looks down at his hands, runs his finger along the edge of his left cuisse. It takes him a moment to speak. “I didn’t know you…” 

“Went to see Rex?” Echo guesses after a pause. “Yeah, I didn’t know you did either.” He hesitates, then asks, “does it really bother you that I talk in my sleep?” 

“Nah,” Fives shakes his head, “It’s nice. If I— when I wake up from nightmares, all I have to do is listen for you. As long as you’re mumbling osik above me, I know everything’s okay.” 

Echo grins. “Well, I’m glad I can bring you comfort.” 

The ghost of a smile passes Fives’s face as he rolls his eyes. “Does it bother you that I wake up early?” 

“No. It’s nice.” Echo’s grin fades, and he hesitantly adds, “Sometimes… sometimes, I think that if you weren’t there to wake me up, I’d never do it at all.”

Fives finally looks up. “Echo…” he whispers. 

Echo hurries to explain, although he isn’t sure he can make that sound like anything but what it is. “It’s just— sometimes you say things, and I know you don’t mean it the way it comes across, but sometimes you say things and I think—” He closes his eyes, wraps his arms tightly around his middle. “I think you wish that I was Hevy or Cutup. Sometimes I think that you wish I was one of them, instead of— instead of me.” Quieter, he adds, “Sometimes I wish that.”

Fives scrambles to his knees, crawling across the corridor to grab Echo’s shoulders. “No, Echo, never,” he says, sounding almost distraught. “I’ve never wished that, and you aren’t allowed to either. I wish they were alive, yes, but not at the cost of you. I’ve learnt— I’m learning to live without them. I don’t want to learn to live without you.” 

He pulls Echo to his chest, tucks Echo’s head under his chin, and Echo presses his nose at the dip where armour ends and the neck of the body-glove begins, breathes in the scent of vaguely vanilla GAR-issue soap and the fresh-out-of-the-box smell of new plastoid. His arms come up to rest against the small of his ta’vod ’s back, and he lets himself be comforted by the feeling. 

It’s a bit of an awkward position for both of them, but neither of them lets up until someone clears their throat, and even then, it’s only as far as they need to see who the person is. 

Of course, they scramble upright when they see Rex standing beside them, one eyebrow raised in question. “Everything alright, boys?” 

“Actually, we wanted to talk to you,” Fives says. 

“Nothing’s wrong,” Echo adds before Rex can get any ideas, “but we want to— to talk to you.” 

Rex nods, an odd look passing over his face before he waves the door open and gestures them in. Fives pushes past Echo so that he can lay claim to the chair, and Echo rolls his eyes as he takes up a perch on the desk. Neither of them chooses the bed, a fact that clearly doesn’t escape Rex. Echo wonders if he’s taking it in the spirit it’s meant (that this is his space, and maybe their cadet selves were allowed to sprawl out there, but their trooper selves are a few orders of magnitude removed from that casual familiarity) or if he’s assuming the worst. 

“I see you wasted no time in getting your kit back,” he says lightly as he sits at the head of the bed. 

“Not our kit yet,” Echo says. 

“Still gotta paint it and scuff it up a bit,” Fives adds.

Rex smiles, a small but genuine one. “Of course, ‘cause Force forbid you go around lookin’ like shinies.” 

“‘Specially when we aren’t shinies anymore,” Fives nods. At Rex’s disbelieving look, Fives rolls his eyes. “Come on, vod, how could we be shiny? Pretty sure living through Force osik is enough to qualify us as veterans.” 

“You were asleep for all the action,” Rex says flatly. 

“Speaking of,” Echo says, “any more information on what happened on that planet?” 

Rex shakes his head. “Just what I’ve already told you: the whole place was canyons and gorges, until suddenly there was a city and a temple, and then the ghost karking exploded and the city and temple disappeared.” He runs his hand around the back of his head, pulling against that blonde hair. “The Generals’ working theory is that, once upon a time, some jetii demagolka, or possibly darjetii, decided that they needed an army, and decided to use kids to do it.”

“But what use would a four-year-old nat-born be?” Echo muses aloud. “That’s like a second-year cadet being thrown onto the battlefield. They’ve no physical training, and they weigh as much as a sack of tubers.” 

“That thing said they were easy to teach.” Rex moves his hand around, so it drags down his face, and suddenly he looks exhausted. Echo feels a stab of guilt. “Skywalker keeps— he keeps comparing it to us.” 

Echo frowns, sees Fives do the same. “How is that anything like us?” Fives asks. 

Rex sighs. “Kenobi said that this Force user likely kidnapped people, turned them into kids, and brainwashed them into thinking he was their hero or something, so they’d let him train them as soldiers. Then when he had a big enough army, he took on the rest of the world, which ultimately caused the extinction event the General felt the first time we got there.” 

“… Right. Well, that’s obviously all kinds of kriffed up,” Fives says, “but that isn’t really like us at all. I mean, there’s a big difference between being kidnapped and turned into a soldier, and…” 

“And being born into it.” Echo finishes. People who call the clones slaves always bring up the fact that they didn’t choose to do this, but it isn’t really about choice. Fighting this war is what they were made for. Echo doesn’t know what else he’d be doing, can’t imagine being anywhere that isn’t with his vode. 

“That’s what I said to Skywalker, but,” Rex shrugs, “he told me that made it worse.” 

“Nat-borns are weird,” Fives decides after a moment. 

Echo shakes his head. “They just see things differently, that’s all. They’ll never… they just can’t…” 

“They just can’t understand,” Rex says softly, “what it’s like to be a clone.” 

No, Echo supposes they can’t. 

“But that’s not what you came here to talk about.” Rex claps his hands on his knees, rises to his feet, and begins peeling his armour off, and Echo is thrown back to a different moment in this room, where he and his ta’vod wrestled their ori’vod into taking a nap with them. He looks at Fives, can tell he’s thinking the same thing. 

“Are you voluntarily going to sleep, ori’vod ?” Echo asks, and Rex freezes for just a moment before he carefully continues, looking less certain about his actions. 

“I- I am. Well, not quite voluntarily, the General has once again ordered me off-duty because of my “stressful few days”—” he makes the air quotes with his fingers, which makes Fives stifle a laugh into Echo’s hip, “—now that we have a new mission. We’ll be making a jump to hyperspace shortly, once the orders have been delivered ship-wide, and I- I like to be rested for every campaign.” 

Fives doesn’t bother to hide his laugh that time. “I don’t suppose you thought to stop at the mess, did you?” he asks lightly, and Rex fixes him with an unimpressed glare that he refuses to bow to. 

“That looks like a no,” Echo says, mock-concerned to hide his real concern. “Can hardly be well-rested on an empty stomach. What about the medbay? Did you at least go there?” 

Rex drops his cuirass to his desk with a thud that makes Echo flinch. Their armour is the only thing that keeps them alive, most of the time, and so every trooper learns to take care of it. Their Captain is especially careful, always emphasising the necessity to the shinies. To see him simply drop that most vital piece, Echo wonders if they are pushing too hard too soon. 

“You avoiding us, Rex?” Fives asks, apparently not sharing Echo’s concern. 

“What I do,” Rex says quietly, not looking at either of them, “is none of your business. I am your Captain—” 

“And our ori’vod,” Fives interrupts, “or is that not the case now that we’re full grown again?” 

“I lied to you!” Rex whips around to stare at them, and Echo straightens at the look on his face. “I said gar morutyc, but I was the reason you got taken, both times! I lied about Domino, I got you hurt, I latched onto you when you were just confused and scared, and I managed to replace you with yourselves!” 

Echo takes a step forward, approaching Rex slowly in case he doesn’t want to be touched. “First of all, we absolutely do not blame you for what happened. If anything, it’s my fault—” 

“Shut up, Echo,” Fives says, standing up just to shove his shoulder into Echo’s. “It’s no one’s fault but whatever darjetii osi’yaim thought to set up this kriffed up trap in the first place. And Rex, the Domino thing, it’s… well, not fine, but we aren’t upset or anything. You did what you thought was right.” 

“Second,” Echo says, nudging Fives in return, “or third, actually, I’m pretty sure it was us that latched onto you.” 

“You know we made Hardcase tell us every story he had of you?” Fives adds. 

“And fourth, how could you have replaced us with ourselves?” 

Rex looks very lost. Echo gently places his hand on Rex’s arm, just above where his vambrace still sits, and Rex looks down at the contact, but doesn’t shake him off. “I… I replaced you when you first went missing with your cadet selves, and now your cadet selves are gone, and I…” 

“Miss them?” Echo asks, hoping he doesn’t sound hurt. “That’s alright, you know. Stressful few days, remember?” 

“No, it’s— or, well, yes, honestly, I do,” Rex shakes his head, looks back up and grabs them both by the shoulders, staring at them intensely. “But I wouldn’t give you up for them, no matter what. I guess I just wish I could have both.” 

“You can have both,” Fives says, and he looks at Echo. Echo frowns, but then catches on, and he and Fives both start taking off their own armour too. 

Rex still looks lost. “I don’t understand.”

“That’s fine,” Fives says, stacking his armour on one side of Rex’s while Echo takes the other. “Don’t worry about it, ori’vod. Everything’s under control.” Echo snorts at his ta’vod ’s words but doesn’t argue. 

Their commlinks go off simultaneously as they work, a simple ping to indicate the arrival of orders. Echo and Fives decide to leave it until later, and work to wrestle Rex out of the last of his armour, and then onto the bed. He knows that Rex is thinking of the same thing they are, when they were half his size and the only reason they got him on the bed was because he let them. That bit certainly hasn’t changed — even tag-teaming him, there’s no way Echo and Fives could take their Captain down. He’s practically an ARC, and they’re just ordinary infantry. 

That’s how they know he’s okay with it, or at least rolling with it. They push Rex onto his back, then clamber up around him, Echo pressed against the wall and Fives on the edge, both sprawling across their ori’vod. Hesitantly, Rex moves his arms so that one is wrapped around Echo’s waist, the other on Fives’s shoulders, and Echo makes a noise of contentment. 

There’s a certain kind of peace that comes with squishing into the same space as your vode. It’s in the knowledge that you’re all still alive, not yet marching on, and that you have the best protection anyone could ask for — the eyes and ears, the hands and hearts, of those that you love. 

Echo has fallen asleep next to his ta’vod countless times since Rishi, both of them grieving and desperate to bridge the gap between themselves, wanting to comfort each other, to be comforted, but not entirely knowing how to get there. He’s fallen asleep beside Rex too, when he woke up with a nightmare, with sorrow heavy in his lungs, but his ta’vod was finally getting some well-earned sleep and he couldn’t bear to wake him. It’s a running joke that their Captain never sleeps, one that skirts fairly close to the truth, and that had felt like the natural place to go.

But comforting each other through nightmares and grief isn’t the same as sprawling in the same space, holding each other close, just because you want to. Echo is grateful that, despite their ‘stressful few days’, everything has arguably worked out for the better, so they can end up sharing a quiet moment here listening to the midday bustle of the rest of the ship.

Fives is the one to break the silence, because of course he is. “Hey Rex?”  

Rex’s chest rises beneath Echo’s head, then deflates as his ori’vod lets loose a long-suffering sigh. “Yes Fives?”

“You agree I’m the older twin, right?” 

“Shut up, Fives,” Echo groans, leaning over to pinch his ta’vod ’s di’kutla face. Fives yelps and smacks his hand. 

“Echo’s the older twin,” Rex says, completely deadpan. 

“What?” Fives gasps indignantly, lurching upright to glare at Rex. 

Echo finds himself cackling. 

“It’s obvious in the way you two act.” Rex shrugs the shoulder Echo isn’t lying on. “Echo is clearly the ori’vod, and you’re the kih’vod.” 

“No, he isn’t!” 

“Face it, Fives,” Echo laughs breathlessly, “you’re the baby of the legion. Copikla ik’aad.” 

Fives’s face flushes a hilarious shade of red. “I am not!” 

“Sounds like something a baby would say,” Rex says at the same time Echo does, and Echo sits up just enough to grin at his ori’vod. Rex has an almost unbearably fond look on his face, a look Echo has only seen a few times. It’s a stark contrast to the wide-eyed, self-deprecating one he’d had earlier, and Echo feels ridiculously proud for wiping that away. 

If it’s by virtue of borderline-bullying his ta’vod, well, it’s the things you do for love and all that.

“Kark you both,” Fives mumbles, crossing his arms. Echo almost feels guilty, but he knows that Fives is good at putting on the wounded akk puppy eyes, and he’s pretty sure Fives is still just playing the game. 

Rex reaches out slowly, running his hand along Fives’s shoulder until he gets to the back of his neck and squeezes lightly. Fives leans into the touch, lets Rex tug him back down so his head is on Rex’s shoulder.

Echo lies back down too, catches Fives’s eyes and mouths sorry. Fives grins at him, all signs of hurt gone, and Echo rolls his eyes. Yeah, he knew it, and fell for it anyway. 

Quiet descends again, as quiet as it ever gets on the Resolute, and Echo can already feel his eyes drooping, the exhaustion he’s been feeling since he first woke back up finally seeping into his body and weighing him down. He feels Rex’s thumb drag across his ribs in soothing circles, hears him murmur something like “Nuhoyi, Ey’ika, gar morutyc.” Fives grabs his hand, the one tucked against Rex’s chest, and squeezes lightly. 

Eventually he’ll have to wake back up and actually do things — make his ori’vod eat and go to the medbay, read through the new orders, repaint his armour, and prepare for another campaign — but for now, he knows it’s okay to rest. 

“Jate vaar'tur, ori’vod,” he mumbles, or he thinks he does. Rex’s chest vibrates beneath his head as he laughs.

It’s a nice feeling.