Chapter Text
The man trudged down the dirty walkway, sidestepping the many diverse and dangerous creatures that populated the street he was on. He wasn’t quite sure, but he thought he’d heard someone say the streets he kept getting lost in were the lower levels of Coruscant. It didn’t particularly matter, though. He’d been barely surviving down here for months.
“Go back to the surface, clone,” a Trandoshan spat at him.
The man frowned. The refrain had become frequent. Clone, whatever that was, must be him, but he didn’t know what that meant or how to get to the surface. He rubbed at his temples, but that didn’t make the gap in his memories return.
Neon lights flashed to the clone’s right. Tanny’s Bar, the home of the man that had cared for him, though grumpily, after the chest wound that had stolen his memory and almost killed him. The bar was one of the few places the clone would be welcome.
He turned into the bar and sat down near the bartender. “I’d like a drink, Tanny.”
The grubby, overweight human man nodded at him. “One drink for my costliest clone customer.” He turned to the back and picked up a glass, then turned to the ‘netscreen above him. “Hey, the hero’s on again! Everyone listen up!”
The bar quieted. The clone stared up at the screen, frowning. A young man with wavy brown hair and dark robes stood on the steps of a building with tall columns, several microphones and cam droids hovering in front of him. The man was vaguely familiar, but the clone couldn’t place him.
“…found out several months ago that the clone army was actually ordered by Count Dooku, but the Jedi High Council made the decision to keep that information quiet until more could be discovered about the situation,” the man on the ‘netscreen said.
“Master Skywalker, the Jedi have stated before that the clone army was ordered by rogue Jedi Master Sifo-Dyas. Were they lying?” an offscreen reporter asked.
“Not consciously,” the man, Master Skywalker, said. “At the time, we believed that Master Sifo-Dyas had ordered the clone army, as we had been informed by the Kaminoans, but Master Kenobi and I discovered later that Sifo-Dyas had been murdered by Count Dooku before ever making it to Kamino. It has been confirmed through independent investigations that the clone army was in fact ordered by the Sith for the purpose of destroying the Jedi.”
“Will this revelation affect the Clone Army Citizens Rights Act that recently became law?”
“We do not anticipate that, no,” Master Skywalker said.
“Can you give us any details on the biochip conspiracy?”
Tanny plunked a full glass in front of the clone. It held something alcoholic, the clone wasn’t sure what, and he didn’t care. He tipped the alcohol down his throat, his eyes trained on Skywalker. He was drawn to him for some reason. There was something about him, something he couldn’t remember. Something that was important.
“During the battle of Ringo Vinda, I and two other Jedi, Master Tiplar and Tiplee, were leading the 501st against Separatist forces led by Admiral Trench,” Master Skywalker said. “A trooper of mine, CT-5385, known as Tup, shot and killed Master Tiplar and attacked Jedi Master Tiplee.”
“Fives! Watch out!” Tup tackled him out of the way of a blaster bolt and shot the droid that fired it.
“Thanks, brother. I owe you one.”
“You owe me a lot more than one.”
“My medics couldn’t figure out what was wrong, so Tup was sent to Kamino for evaluation. Fives, another soldier of mine, accompanied him on that trip. On that trip, the Kaminoans were forced to reveal the existence of inhibitor chips, which they claimed was to tone down aggression and ensure compliance. They claimed Tup killed Jedi Master Tiplar because of a virus he caught on Ringo Vinda. However, Fives discovered that the biochips actually held contingency orders that could compel the clones to kill the Jedi. That was why Tup had actually killed Master Tiplar; his chip malfunctioned and he acted on his orders to kill the Jedi too early.”
“Good soldiers follow orders. Good soldiers follow orders. Good soldiers follow orders…”
“Unfortunately, I didn’t believe Fives, and he was killed by fellow troopers,” Master Skywalker said.
“General Skywalker… Just hear me out…”
The clone gasped. Memories flooded into his mind. Standing in the warehouse pleading with General Skywalker, holding Tup’s hand as he died, joining the 501st, training with Domino Squadron, his earliest days on Kamino.
Fives. He was Fives.
And he had a battalion to rejoin.
Fives dropped his drink on the counter and bolted out of the bar.
“Hey! Where are you going?” Tanny called.
“Home!” Fives shouted. “I’m going home!”
Anakin had finally disentangled himself from the reporters and was making his way down the Great Hall of the Jedi Temple when he heard someone calling his name. His heart sank in him, and he turned.
But it wasn’t a reporter. It was a clone. He shook off two Temple guards. “I need to see General Skywalker.”
Anakin couldn’t quite place him. It wasn’t Rex, his hair was too dark. “Appo?”
“General! I’m back! I’m not dead!” The clone ran forward. He was wearing civilian clothing. Short dark hair grew on his head and face, not covering a tattoo of the number 5 on his head.
No, it couldn’t be. It just couldn’t be.
The clone grabbed Anakin’s arms. “I’m alive! I’m not dead!”
“Fives?” Anakin could barely speak with the sudden dryness in his mouth. “Is that really you?”
“Yes!” Fives tightened his grip on Anakin’s forearms. “I was injured in the fight, and somehow, I got left behind, I guess—”
“Rex and Fox got in a fight after you were shot, and by the time it was resolved, your body was gone,” Anakin said. It had eaten at him for months, not being able to give one of his best troopers the funeral he deserved.
“Well, when I woke up, I was with this bar owner and I had amnesia and I was down there for months just surviving, and then I saw you on the Holonet talking about me and Tup, and then I remembered!”
Anakin laughed. “You’re alive! I can’t believe it!”
“I’m alive! You know about the conspiracy? What happened?” Fives asked.
“We defeated Palpatine. He’s in jail now and being tried for everything. We took all the biochips out and all the clones are getting a genetic fix. You don’t have to age fast anymore!”
“Wait, really?” Fives stumbled. Anakin held him up until he got his feet under him. “You’re serious? We can be normal?”
Anakin nodded. “I’ve got a lot to tell you, especially about the Clone Rights bill. You’re going to need to start thinking about last names.”
“Last names?” Fives asked.
“All the clones are becoming citizens, so you’ll have to pick a last name,” Anakin said. “Come on, I need to tell the boys. Echo’ll be ecstatic.”
“Echo? He’s alive?”
Anakin nodded. “He was captured by the Separatists. We rescued him not long before Dooku and Grievous were killed.” He walked down the hall.
Fives trailed behind him. “Wait, Dooku and Grievous were killed? I clearly haven’t been paying attention to the news.”
Anakin shrugged. “There’s been a lot going on lately. Oh, I’m a father. I have twins!”
“What?”
Anakin was sprawled in a chair in front of Padmé’s desk in her Senate office. The twins had just been put down for a nap in a playpen in the corner, meaning he couldn’t tease her like he wanted to or they’d wake up. “Come on, I have the day off,” he whispered.
“No, you don’t, you’re supposed to be helping me with preliminary peace talks with the Separatists,” Padmé whispered back.
Anakin sighed. “Preliminary peace talks have been going on ever since Grievous died. What are they waiting for?”
Padmé shrugged. “Some of them have legitimate grievances that were manipulated by Palpatine and Dooku. They still feel they are in a position to bargain for less trade regulation and other issues they were fighting for.”
Ugh. Politics. Anakin groaned. He and Padmé stiffened, and they glanced over to the playpen. Luke took his thumb out of his mouth and reached for Leia’s hand. The two were curled against each other back to back, cheeks touching, and holding hands. No matter what position Anakin or Padmé put them down in, they always ended up like this. Anakin swore they had learned to roll over early just so they could get in their preferred position. They also acted like the galaxy was ending if they weren’t allowed to sleep together. It was cute and trying at the same time. But the position meant they were falling deeper asleep, so they were safe. Threepio fussed about their sleeping positions and their co-sleeping when able to roll over, as both were apparently dangers for SIDS, but the twins managed to overcome every obstacle their parents put in their path, including the crib dividers, and putting them in separate cribs meant an entirely sleepless night, so after three nights of trying to put them in separate cribs and nobody getting a wink of sleep, they’d decided the battle wasn’t worth it.
“Good thing Threepio’s not in here,” Anakin said. But to be honest, he shared some of Threepio’s concern. The last thing he wanted was to suddenly find his babies gone. Thankfully, he could monitor their presences at all times, which gave him some reassurance, but still. Why did he have to have such stubborn kids?
“The pediatrician said they’ll probably grow out of it,” Padmé said. She must have sensed his worry. She smiled. “Besides, you have to admit, they’re awfully cute like that.”
Anakin smiled. “That they are.”
Padmé turned back to her datapad. She sucked in a breath. “Ani, look at this.”
He stood and walked over to her. He bent over her chair and studied the datapad. “What am I looking at?”
“The Umbarans have been petitioning to get their planet back for months. Their latest offer is an unconditional surrender of all pockets of resistance and the surrendering of prisoner-of-war camps they’ve apparently set up over to the Republic. Anakin, they say they captured hundreds of men from the 501st and 212th, and they’re offering to give them all back in exchange for having control of their planet back,” Padmé said.
“Accept it,” Anakin said. “You have to accept it.”
Padmé stared up at him. “Ani, you know that’s not my decision. The whole Peace Committee has to decide on it.”
The Peace Committee was made up of seven senators, three representatives, four Jedi—Anakin, Obi-Wan, Mace, and Yoda—and Cody. “Well, I’m going to vote yes. How about you?”
“We need to make sure they’re telling the truth before we vote,” Padmé said.
Anakin sighed, hating that she was right. He wanted his men back now. “I guess you’re right.”
Padmé smiled. “One day, you’ll learn that I always am.” She cupped his cheek. Anakin leaned down and kissed her.
Anakin wasn’t very excited to be back on Umbara. He knew Obi-Wan wasn’t either but was managing to be polite for the Umbarans. Rex had come on the ship too, claiming he could handle it, but at the last minute, hadn’t been able to make himself get in the shuttle down to the surface where Obi-Wan and Anakin were receiving their men. Rex had apologized so often, Anakin was contemplating talking him into seeing a therapist, no matter how much Rex claimed he was “designed to withstand any kind of stress.”
He rolled his shoulders. Darkness weighed down on the plains, as it did everywhere on this awful planet. “What’s taking them so long?” he muttered.
Obi-Wan put a hand on his shoulder. “Patience, Anakin. I don’t like this planet any more than you do.”
“Who do you think survived?” Anakin asked.
“I’m not sure,” Obi-Wan said.
Three robed Umbarans came into view behind the metal gate of the prison camp the Umbaran Peace Committee and Anakin and Obi-Wan were waiting outside. The Umbarans behind the gate were leading a mass of men, many still in their armor. Anakin’s hand grew hot and sweaty inside his glove.
The Umbarans outside the gate muttered to themselves. The gate swung open. The Umbarans parted to reveal the crowd of clones, raggedy and dirty, but not as emaciated or injured as Anakin had expected. In fact, considering the circumstances, it appeared they hadn’t been treated that bad at all.
Anakin grabbed Obi-Wan’s forearm and squeezed tightly. Obi-Wan grimaced but patted his hand without saying anything.
“General!” one of the men called. His wild, foolhardy Force presence was one Anakin had thought he’d never feel again. “General!” He darted forward and wrapped his arms around Anakin.
Anakin gasped as his breath was squeezed out of him and he was lifted into the air. “Hardcase, put me down.”
Hardcase set Anakin on the ground. “Sorry,” he said, not sounding particularly sorry. “Did you hear how I blew up an entire Separatist supply ship?”
“I did,” Anakin said. “How did you escape without getting killed?”
“Blasted a hole in a vulture droid and rode it all the way down,” Hardcase said. “Look at you! You look amazing!” He lightly punched him in the arm. “Uh, general, sir, that is.” He saluted hastily. “Is it true what they say, is the war really over?”
“Pretty much,” Anakin said.
“Waxer?” Obi-Wan exclaimed. “You’re alive?”
“Yeah, I am,” Waxer said. “Barely survived, but I did. Is Boil still alive?”
“He is,” Obi-Wan said. “He’ll be ecstatic to see you.”
Soon, Anakin and Obi-Wan were surrounded by their men, being saluted or clapped on the back or even hugged. Many of them apologized afterward, but Anakin didn’t mind.
His men were back. His men were alive.
Anakin lounged in the Peace Committee conference room, his feet up on the large round table solely because of the eyeroll he got from Mace every time he did it. Mace had become less hostile towards everyone ever since Padmé dragged him to therapy, which Anakin enjoyed for multiple reasons, one of them being that it was now fun to push his buttons. He held Leia in his lap. She had just discovered she could blow spit bubbles and was practicing her ability with great gusto. Slobber dribbled down her chin. Anakin wiped her chin with his cloak.
Most of the senators and representatives hadn’t arrived yet, but Padmé, Obi-Wan, Mace, and Cody had already arrived, and some of the 501st boys were sitting on the floor of the conference room to encourage Cody before the meeting. Rex and Jesse were sitting cross-legged on the floor, Luke lying on his stomach between them laughing. They were each trying to convince him to come to them, but Luke hadn’t grasped the concept of crawling yet, and so just laughed at them.
The datapads of the five present committee members all lit up with an alert at the same time. Anakin sat up and grabbed his.
The Confederacy of Independent Systems, in accordance with the Separatist Senate and Head of State, offers the Galactic Republic an unconditional surrender.
Anakin’s hand shook as he put the datapad down on his knees. “Is this for real?”
“I don’t believe it,” Padmé said.
Obi-Wan put his hand on his chin. “They really did it.”
Mace set his datapad down on the table. “Well, it’s about time.”
“What? What is it?” Rex asked.
Jesse still held his hands out to Luke but stared at the committee. Fives, Appo, and Echo stood up and gathered around Cody.
“The Seppies offered an unconditional surrender,” Cody said, dazed.
“The war’s over,” Rex said, his own voice dazed. “It’s actually, officially over.”
“It’s not official yet,” Mace, official wet blanket, said. “The committee still has to vote.” The committee had full authorization to act with the authority of the Senate, so as soon as they voted it was official.
“No one’s going to vote no on this,” Anakin said.
“I agree.” Mace stood up. “I’m going to go drag the rest of the committee here so we can make this official.”
The committee nodded at him as he left.
Rex grabbed Luke and stood, sighing. “I guess that’s our cue to leave.” He handed Luke to Padmé and turned to Anakin. “Once the vote’s announced, I think the boys’ll want to celebrate at 79s. You’re welcome to come, general. You too.” He nodded at Obi-Wan.
Obi-Wan smiled. “Of course I’ll want to come.”
Anakin rolled his eyes. Obi-Wan never passed up an opportunity for a drink. “I’ll have to check with my wife first.”
Padmé smiled widely at those words.
Rex nodded. “Very good, sir. I’ll see you there. Boys?”
Fives, Jesse, Appo, and Echo followed him out.
Anakin lifted Leia up and made faces at her until Mace returned with the rest of the committee. Orn Free Taa questioned whether the offer was genuine, but none of them could pass up the opportunity of an unconditional surrender if it was true, and so they voted unanimously to accept.
Anakin and Padmé were the last to leave. Padmé placed Luke in their floating hover bassinet. Anakin kissed Leia on the cheek, then put her beside him, and turned to Padmé.
“Go.” Padmé put a hand on Anakin’s chest. “I know you want to. Go celebrate with the boys. You deserve it.”
Anakin smiled. “I love you.”
Padmé put a hand on the back of his neck and pulled him down for a kiss. After far too short a time, she pulled back and stared into his eyes. “Just one condition.”
Anakin cupped the back of her head. “Anything, my love.”
“Don’t fly home drunk.”
Anakin laughed. He wasn’t the type to drink. That wouldn’t be a problem. “Don’t worry, I won’t.”