Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“I understand you feel defeated, but I've learned to see things differently. There’s a future for us, one where we're all free. But it's up to us to make it happen.”
—Kanan Jarrus

No matter what else in the galaxy changed, sunset on Coruscant was always beautiful, the sky streaked with fuchsia and orange that lit everything in the Temple gold.

Ahsoka scurried through the halls, bowing quickly to the Masters and Knights and waving at her fellow Padawans. This time of day was her favorite, when classes and meetings had just ended and the Temple corridors were bustling with beings.

The chatter and camaraderie were a relief after the grueling campaign on Vjun Minor, where she had commanded a fleet of starfighters to support Master Kenobi’s troops on the ground. They had triumphed in the end, but she had lost Glider and Carrion, and their deaths were still weighing heavily on her.

The path to Master Skywalker’s quarters was comforting in its familiarity. Though she knew his entry codes, she hit the door chime out of courtesy.

“Yeah?” Master Skywalker called, his voice faint through the durasteel.

“I’ve returned, Master,” Ahsoka said.

“Well, come on in!”

When she entered the room, he was pushing goggles up onto his head, soot smeared on his cheek. Most Jedi’s quarters were fairly empty, tidy and lacking personal effects—Ahsoka’s own included—but Master Skywalker’s had a spray of podracing posters on the wall; display models of various spaceships were littered around the room, and tools and dismantled droid parts covered every other surface. Being here always comforted her, made her bond with Master Skywalker sing.

“Hey, Snips,” he said. He seemed to have been welding something at his desk; it looked like a protocol droid’s servo. “You’re back sooner than I expected.”

Ahsoka put a hand on her hip and cocked it, grinning as she said, “Yeah, well, you should know better than to underestimate me.”

Master Skywalker smiled back at her, but there was something hollow in his eyes, and she could feel his conflict through the Force.

“What’s wrong?” she immediately asked.

Master Skywalker rubbed his temple. He gestured for her to sit on one of the many crates in the room. “We lost Master Tiplar on Ringo Vinda.”

Sympathy bubbled in her. Though they didn't know each other very well, Master Tiplar had always been kind to her, and she was renowned for her bravery, always leading her men from the front.

“We'll get those clankers next time, Master,” she said, thumping her fist to her palm.

Master Skywalker shook his head. “It wasn’t the Separatists—she was shot by one of our own.”

“What?” Ahsoka gasped. “A traitor?”

“We’re not sure. Tup seemed to just suddenly lose it on the battlefield."

“No,” Ahsoka whispered. Not sweet, anxious Tup, who was quietly clever and blushed whenever she congratulated him on a job well done.

“I’ve seen other soldiers get overwhelmed and become confused on the battlefield," Master Skywalker said grimly. “But to kill a general—I don’t know. Something’s not adding up.”

“Where is he now?”

“Kix couldn’t figure out what was wrong, so we sent Tup to Kamino. But his escort was ambushed by the Separatists—a whole squadron of commando droids showed up.”

Ahsoka frowned. “Why would the Separatists waste a squadron of commando droids on retrieving a single trooper?”

“I wondered the same thing,” Master Skywalker said. “So Rex, Fives, and I pursued them, and we eventually got Tup out of there and over to Kamino. He’s there now, with Fives.”

She heaved a sigh of relief. “I hope he’ll be okay. They’ll be able to help him, right?”

“I hope so,” Master Skywalker said. “I don’t know, though, Ahsoka: He seemed pretty out of it and said he didn’t remember what had happened. But Kix said his vitals seemed perfectly healthy.”

Just as she was going to respond, her wrist comlink buzzed. “Tano speaking.”

“Hey, Commander,” Broadside said, barely audible over the busy chaos of Coruscant’s streets, “me and the boys are going to 79’s to commemorate Glider and Carrion. We were wondering if you’d be interested in joining us.”

Ahsoka looked up and cocked her head. “Master, do you need me for anything tonight?”

“No, you deserve a break,” Master Skywalker said, shaking his head. “Go, have some fun before we’re sent on another mission. And toast Glider and Carrion for me. They were good men—and impressive pilots.”

Ahsoka nodded. “We will. Thanks, Master. Keep me posted about Tup?”

Master Skywalker nodded. “I will,” he promised.

Over the comlink, Ahsoka said, “I’d like that, Broadside. I’m still at the Temple, though. Give me half an hour to meet you there?”

“Sure, Commander, our ETA is 0800,” Broadside said, perking up at her acceptance. “Feel free to join us at your convenience, sir.”

Fives surveyed the bar, desperately looking for someone he knew—someone who might believe his impossible story and help him contact Rex and General Skywalker. The room was dim, though, lit only by neon, and the pulsing bodies and throbbing music made his head hurt.

There.

At the other end of the bar, Jesse and Kix sat shoulder to shoulder, turned toward each other and smiling indulgently. Fives hesitated for a click, reluctant to interrupt their date. He knew they never got as much time alone together as they wanted.

But a moment later, Kix got up, laying a hand on Jesse’s shoulder briefly, then made his way through the crowd. Fives sighed in relief when he saw he was heading for the refresher—an opportunity.

Careful not to alarm anyone around him with hasty movements, he plastered a neutral expression on his face and wove his way to the refresher as well.

Kix was the only being inside. He stood at the sink, primping himself in the mirror, checking his immaculately trimmed hair and brushing invisible dust off his armor. Fives didn’t know why he bothered, given that he was already bonded to the only being he had ever had eyes for, and Jesse was still as obsessed with him as he'd been as a shiny.

“So I guess the 501st is back on Coruscant?” Fives said, testing the situation gingerly. He didn’t want to alarm Kix and risk his presence being reported. Once, Fives had trusted his brothers completely. But nothing had been the same after Umbara.

“Oh, yeah,” Kix said easily. “We just got back from Ringo Vinda. The strangest thing happened out there.”

Approaching him, Fives removed his cap. “Yeah. I know.”

Kix gasped. “Fives?” He backed up, his clumsy movement belying his tipsiness. “Whoa. What’s going on? They say you tried to assassinate the Chancellor, and you’re infected with that virus that killed Tup.”

“I don’t have time to explain right now,” Fives said, leaning on the sink. His head was muddy, and he felt like the details were slipping out of his grasp. “All I can tell you is—is that I’m being framed. All of us, even the Jedi, are in grave danger.”

“But—but w-what can I do, Fives?” Kix said, taken aback. “How can I help?”

Good ol’ Kix, always going out of his way to help his brothers. “I need to talk to Rex,” Fives said. “Or...or General Skywalker.”

"Well, they’ve been tasked with finding you. Just—just turn yourself in!”

“No!” He grasped Kix’s shoulders, terror surging through him at the thought. “No, I’ll never get to them. You don’t understand. What I’m mixed up in—it goes all the way to the top. The highest levels are involved in the conspiracy. I have to talk to General Skywalker and Rex directly. Alone.”

He shoved Kix away, suddenly doubting this plan. Rex might believe him, but what if the General didn’t? Everyone knew he was close with the Chancellor. As one of the longest-serving soldiers of the 501st, Fives had considered himself close to the General as well—but he was a clone. His experience on Kamino had reminded him that clones were not to be saved, not to be believed, not to be kept around if they caused any sort of problems. There, reconditioning wasn’t just the vague threat brothers threw around when they were being teased. And now it wouldn’t be for him here on Coruscant either.

“Look, I can contact Rex,” Kix said gently, watching with concern as Fives spiraled, “but I can’t guarantee he’ll bring the General.”

“Well, that’s good, good,” Fives said. It was better than nothing. Maybe it would be better if the General didn’t come—for Rex to be the one to bring the intel to him. He would trust Rex.

As he was thinking, Kix’s face lit up. “Wait, what about the Commander?” he suggested. “I saw her here earlier, arm-wrestling brothers from the 212th and talking to Hurricane Company. She should be able to help you reach the General.”

The Commander. Fives thought of Commander Tano and how she still mourned the loss of every man in the 501st; how proud of him and Echo she had been when they returned from ARC training; how she had comforted him after Echo died—sneaking out food from the mess hall, holding him as he broke down, and keeping watch when he finally collapsed so she could wake him from his persistent nightmares.

Once, when Fives had been beating himself up for not being fast enough to protect her from a detonator explosion, she had assured him that she’d always trusted him to watch her back, and that he had still never failed her; her voice and her smile had been so confident despite the pain she must’ve been in from the shrapnel embedded within her skin.

He hoped she would still be willing to trust him now, with something much more dangerous than a bomb.

“Yes,” Fives said. “Yes, you’re right—she might help me. Where did you last see her?”

“Heading upstairs with Broadside and Contrail.”

“Thanks, Kix,” Fives said, relieved. “I appreciate it. Here, here are the coordinates for Rex.” He grabbed Kix’s elbow and punched them into his comlink. “Just make sure he meets me there.”

“Right. Good luck, Fives,” Kix said quietly.

When Fives exited the refresher, Coruscant Guards were already combing the bar. Cursing, he stuck to the shadows and went upstairs, searching desperately for Commander Tano. He found her with a group of 501st pilots, leaning back on the rail and laughing as she elbowed Hawk teasingly.

Fives positioned himself so that he was in her eye line, then purposefully stumbled against a clone who was talking quietly with a Chagrian, making them snap at him in annoyance. At the commotion, Commander Tano glanced over, as did Hawk and Broadside.

“You boys okay?” she called.

“Eh, it’s just a shiny who can’t handle his drink,” Broadside said.

Fives feigned embarrassment, muttering that he was fine and backing away. He snatched an abandoned drink from two clones making out against the rail and settled against the wall near them, pretending to drink it. He tapped his feet so that he looked like a lonely clone bobbing to the music by himself.

When he saw Commander Tano look his way, frowning, he crossed his arms and quickly signed, Mayday. Then, On the run. Help. Silently.

She stared at him, puzzled. She was good at identifying each of his brothers, even before they had any tattoos or armor modifications, so he hoped she could tell who he was despite his shiny armor and newly shaved head, and the cap he had borrowed from the deck officer.

Briefly, she glanced down at her hands, which were down by her hips. Fives watched as they formed the sign for, Where do you want me? It had been created to determine battlefield positions, directing a soldier to take point or take up the rear, but Fives got her meaning.

Isk, he signed. Nine. Cargo hold. Now.

He didn’t stick around to see if she had understood. Warily, he slipped through the crowd, careful to avoid the Guards. Heart pounding, he grabbed a speeder bike and rode it down to the Coruscant undercity. He had just arrived at the landing platform of a munitions warehouse in sector I-9 when he heard another vehicle approaching.

He darted behind a tall stack of haphazardly piled crates. When he peeked through them, he saw Commander Tano jump off the bike and look around. Suddenly, she ignited her lightsaber and leaped into the air again. Fives tensed.

The distinct scream of a probe droid sounded, and the Commander grimly stamped its memory circuits out. The tense knot in Fives's chest loosened ever so slightly. He hadn’t even spotted it. But the Commander knew he was being pursued and was helping him, choosing to trust him. At least for the time being.

“Fives?” she whispered, creeping into the warehouse.

“Here, Commander,” Fives said from behind a haphazard stack of crates. He hesitated before he exited the shadows, painfully aware that he didn’t have a blaster on him. “Leave your weapons.”

She frowned but obeyed, setting her lightsabers on the nearest crate. They rolled to the edge and stopped with a faint clink. The Commander raised her hands before her, fingers spread.

“Okay, Fives,” she said carefully. “I’m unarmed.”

Fives sighed in relief and activated the ray shield, trapping her before he stepped out into the open. He rubbed at his left eye, which was blurring.

The Commander reeled back and smacked the barrier with the palm of her hand. “Fives? What’s going on? What are you doing?”

“Sorry, sir,” Fives said, “but I need you to listen to me.”

The Commander’s expression softened. “I’m listening. But what’s going on? Contrail said there’s an army-wide bulletin for your capture.” At the thought, terror spiked within him, which she likely sensed; her tone gentled. “Fives? I’m worried about you.”

“I don’t know if you heard about Tup and Master Tiplar—”

She nodded. “My master told me about it. I’m so sorry about Tup. I know you two were close. He was a good man, brave and kind.”

Fives’s breath trembled. He couldn’t think about Tup, not now, or he’d just break down. First, he had to tell someone about the conspiracy, then figure out how to hide from the Guards and from Palpatine. After that, he would mourn, would say his remembrances and add Tup to the ever-growing list.

“Thank you,” he said simply, then launched into his explanation, his words coming out jagged and panicked: “I was framed because I know the truth—the truth about a plot, a massive deception. There’s a sinister plot in the works against the Jedi. I have proof of it. I can prove that everything I know is true, beyond a shadow of a doubt.”

Commander Tano’s eyes were wide, but her voice was steady: “Tell me.”

“We took Tup to Kamino,” Fives said, pacing back and forth before the ray shield. “There, I discovered the vod'e were created for the enemy, and that they built organic chips into our genetic code to make us do whatever the sponsor wants. The Kaminoans claim the chip suppresses the aggression we inherited from the template, but I found out what they really do is make us more violent, take away our free will. And you know how little we already have, Commander—”

The Commander was staring at him, something like rage simmering in her gaze. “I know,” she said firmly.

Pacing was making Fives dizzy. He stopped and took a deep breath, wringing his hands.

“When the time comes, the enemy can activate the chips, and all the vod'e—every single brother—will turn on the Jedi and kill them like Tup killed General Tiplar. His glitched and activated too early, and the Kaminoans didn’t want it getting out, so they let him die and sent me to be reconditioned. This... It’s bigger than any of us, than anything I could have imagined.”

Commander Tano’s expression could only be described as raw fury. When she spoke, something unplaceable changed in the room; her voice was vibroblade-sharp and cold like durasteel:

“Who controls the switch?”

“Wait,” Fives said, startled. He was starting to feel more and more out of it; Nala Se’s drugs must have been kicking in. She had undoubtedly intended to sully his credibility. “You believe me?”

“Of course I believe you,” Commander Tano said. “I’ll always trust you, remember?”

Fives almost cried then. He should have never doubted her faith. For the first time in days, he felt the faintest glimmer of hope.

“Thank you. Thank you for trusting me.” He hesitated, willing his words to come out evenly. “It’s Palpatine,” he said.

She gasped, horror flashing across her face. “The Chancellor?!”

Her fists clenched at her sides, and the low warehouse lights unmistakably flickered. The ray shield mechanism shattered, and the Commander didn’t seem to notice as its parts rained down on her.

Fives stood his ground as well. “Yeah, the Chancellor controls the switch,” he said. “I don’t know to what extent he’s in on the plot, but I know he orchestrated much of it. He told me in the medical bay about the horrors that are coming, and laughed at the idea that nobody would believe me.”

The Commander closed her eyes and took a deep breath, appearing to steady herself.

“Well, I guess I never liked him anyway,” she said lightly, though there was little humor in her expression. “The way he talks to my master has always given me the creeps. And he always shoos me away like a glowbug.”

Fives raised his eyebrows, then rubbed his temples at the pain that shot through his head at the motion. “That’s pretty treasonous to say, Commander,” he managed to get out, the words slurring together.

She grinned, the fierce fire in her eyes strangely comforting. “Oh, that’s nothing. Our next move is going to be much more illegal.”

Fives hadn’t even gotten there, so occupied he’d been with presenting his case and trying not to collapse. But the Commander was already sketching out a plan, thank kriff.

“First we have to get you somewhere safe,” she said. “The Guard is accusing you of attempted assassination—which is pretty convenient, given what you’ve just told me about the Chancellor.”

Fives nodded. He knew his chances of survival were low, especially if he was going to have to run while in this drugged state.

The Commander chewed her lip. “We can’t put any vod'e in danger—the Chancellor would expect you to be with them, anyway. But you need to lay low with someone we can trust, someone who will be able to defend you if I’m shipped out.”

“I don’t know any civilians, sir,” Fives said. “Much less armed ones. What about a Jedi?”

“We can’t tell my master—not yet, at least,” she said, crossing her arms and thinking. “The Chancellor is his friend. If we don’t have evidence, he won’t believe us.”

At her words, Fives nodded, relieved that Kix had suggested he speak to Commander Tano. Who knew what might have happened if the General had met him here but hadn’t believed his story?

“I don’t know if General Kenobi or Senator Amidala would believe us either,” she continued. “Maybe Barriss would, but she’s still out in the Rim. I would go to Riyo, but I know she was just called back to Pantora...”

Fives was barely following the names, his limbs feeling bizarrely far away. He attempted to move his fingers but couldn’t surmise whether he’d succeeded.

“Oh!” Commander Tano said. “I know someone,” she said. “An old friend. When I first met him, he didn’t believe in the Republic; he thought it corrupt. I think he’ll believe this story. And nobody will suspect that someone just starting their career would harbor a fugitive.”

She glanced at him, and her expression softened at his confused state. She laid a hand on his arm, and he tried not to flinch at the unexpected contact.

“You need medical attention, Fives. Do you trust me?”

“I trust you, sir,” Fives said. “If you believe this being might help us, then so will I.”

“Commander, I have to ask—what if I get your friend in trouble?”

Ahsoka smiled at Fives in what she hoped was a reassuring way. “You won't,” she promised.

They had made it to Lux’s veranda by way of her grappling hook and Fives’s firm grip, and were now standing on a ledge beside it. Ahsoka was wearing a cloak she had traded for a ration bar in the undercity, and Fives had attained a Coruscant Guard helmet from a trooper they had knocked out. His voice sounded strange in a way that had nothing to do with the vocoder, and he had nearly toppled off the building as they made their way up, which was extremely out of character for any ARC trooper—much less one of the best in the 501st.

With the assistance of the Force, Ahsoka leaped onto the railing and tugged Fives up.

Lux was waiting for them on the veranda, arms crossed and eyebrows raised. Ahsoka had commed him on the way and explained very vaguely that she needed his help immediately.

“Hey, Lux,” she said.

“Ahsoka,” he greeted warmly.

They hadn’t spoken directly since Onderon, though they’d attempted several times to reconnect since Lux had entered the Senate. But he was always swamped with his new duties, and the Outer Rim Sieges meant Ahsoka rarely ever stepped foot on Coruscant these days.

“What kind of trouble have you brought me now?” Lux said with a quirk of the mouth.

He’d had another growth spurt and was at least a head taller than her now. Dabs of jade crystal dangled from his ears on copper chains, and the sleek and silvery Onderonian formalwear flattered his broadening shoulders. But, to Ahsoka’s relief, she only recognized that in a distant sort of way, with none of the fixation that had consumed her in the past.

“Excuse me,” she huffed. “I seem to remember it being you who usually brought me trouble.”

He chuckled. “Well, then allow me to return the favor.”

Ahsoka nodded gratefully and gestured at Fives. “This is my friend Fives,” she said. “He needs a medikit and a place to stay while I figure out our next move.”

Lux’s gaze traveled to Fives, who stood at attention beside her. “You must be the ARC trooper who’s got the Coruscant Guard so riled up.” He grinned impishly and extended his hand. “It's a pleasure to meet you, Fives.”

Fives stared down at the hand, then up at Lux, who cocked his head. Ahsoka realized suddenly that this might be the first time Fives had been offered the gesture—one of respect between implied equals. She nudged him with her elbow, and he shook the proffered hand, looking confused.

“The pleasure is mine, Senator,” he said stiffly.

Lux led them through the glass doors and into his apartment. He shut the drapes, movements casual, and gestured for them to sit while he grabbed medical supplies.

The living room was a grand space with a high ceiling and curved, colorful walls topped with intricate crown molding. The windows must have looked out onto the city, but they had all been covered—for this meeting, Ahsoka assumed. Beneath their feet was a fluffy burgundy carpet, and the ornate chandelier that hung overhead reminded her of the gigantic, many-petaled flowers found in Onderon’s jungles.

Fives stared at the plush goldenrod sofa, then down at his borrowed uniform. “Shall I remove my armor, sir?”

Lux shrugged, setting a shiny metal box on the table between the sofas. “Do as you like,” he said. “It doesn’t matter to me. And it’s just Lux.”

Fives glanced at Ahsoka, then began to strip his kit from his body, neatly stacking the bright white components on the ground beside them. He still didn’t seem well, his movements slow as honey jelly.

Lux cocked his head. “What do you need from medikit?”

“Ah—I’m not sure, but I believe I was drugged, sir,” Fives said. “Blurry vision, inability to concentrate, constant migraine...”

Quickly, Ahsoka thought back to what Kix had taught her about battlefield medicine. “A mild sedative should help bring him down.”

Nodding, Lux rummaged through the kit and retrieved a vial of pills.

“Thank you, Senator,” Fives said, accepting it.

Ahsoka took a seat, slumping back into the cushions. Lux sat down across from her and asked, “So—mind giving me a hint what’s going on here?”

Ahsoka held her hand up to stop him. “First of all, what’s the holocam and holorecorder setup in these rooms?”

“I already disabled them,” Lux assured her, withdrawing a jammer from his pocket.

“Good,” Ahsoka said, grateful, then launched into an explanation. Fives settled on the other end of the sofa and pitched in at her prompting.

Lux sat back after they were finished, staring in their direction without seeming to see them. “Then—my mother was right, in a way. The Republic has become too corrupt. It’s being—used. The emergency powers the Chancellor seized, the conflicts he’s been enflaming...”

“Maybe, but that still doesn’t mean the Separatists are in the right,” Ahsoka interjected.

He shook his head. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to rejoin the CIS. I just—I wish my mother had known.”

Fives’s head whipped toward Ahsoka. “He’s a Seppie?!”

Ahsoka hid a giggle at how flabbergasted he was. “Lux’s mother was a Separatist senator,” she said. “But he decided to go down a different path after we took back Onderon. In case it helps—Rex taught him everything he knows about battle.”

Fives relaxed at the mention of Rex but still eyed Lux suspiciously.

For a while, they discussed the logistics of Fives staying in Lux’s apartment. Lux showed Fives his guest bedroom and the ridiculously enormous refresher attached to it. Fives looked incredibly uncomfortable just walking into the luxurious lodgings, but Ahsoka was glad to know he would be treated well here.

“All right,” she said after Fives had reluctantly given Lux the clothing measurements he had requested. “I’m going to head back to the Temple. Fives—the men are going to need to know about this. Which vod'e would you like to tell first?” Who do you trust? she didn’t say.

Fives thought for a moment. “Definitely Rex. Jesse and Kix. Let’s start there, sir.”

“Sounds like a plan. I’ll come up with a reason for them to accompany me here.” She looked at Fives and lowered her voice. “Is this safehouse acceptable? I know it’s not ideal, but Lux will protect you.”

“Beats running from the Guards,” Fives said, head ducked. “Thanks, Commander. And thank you for believing me.”

Ahsoka grasped his forearm in the vod'e clasp, her grip firm.

“I’ll always believe you, Fives. Now get some rest. I’ll be back in the morning.” She nodded at Lux. “Sorry for springing this on you, Lux. We appreciate your aid in our time of need. Can I count on you to protect my friend?”

Lux nodded, his features serious. “Always,” he promised. “We’ll see you in the morning.”

“See you,” Ahsoka echoed. She showed herself out.

The door slid shut behind her, but she stayed there for a moment, trying to release her stress and anger into the Force. She had felt so furious back at the warehouse, consumed by rage and spite and fear for the vod'e. Master Skywalker got like that sometimes, especially when they encountered slavers and Toydarians; Ahsoka shivered at the memory of the searing rage that sometimes shook the air around him.

Sighing to herself, she made her way to the turbolift. Getting caught up in her anger would only distract her; right now she needed to be there for Fives—for the 501st, who had become something of a family to her, and all their brothers, too.

And the rest of her family, the Jedi—they were counting on her as well, even if they didn’t know it yet. She had to prevent the grisly future Palpatine had conveyed to Fives, the one in which the Order was razed to the ground.

She had to keep her head clear, her mind focused on the impossible task at hand. Emotion, yet peace. Passion, yet serenity. Meditation would have to be her priority for the rest of the night.

Then, tomorrow, the rest.

Chapter Text

“Today we fight for more than the Republic. Today we fight for all our brothers back home.”
—Captain Rex

Every bone and muscle in Rex’s body was exhausted, and his brain felt like it was leaking out of his head. After he returned from bringing Tup to Kamino, he had been pulled into meeting after meeting on Coruscant, his nightmares allotting him barely any sleep in between.

It had been during one of those interminable discussions that he had received the alert from the Coruscant Guard ordering all active troopers on the planet to arrest Fives for attempted assassination of the Chancellor.

The virus.

Though he had frantically tried hailing Fives on his comlink, there had been no response, and Rex’s heart had been in his throat for hours as he was forced to sit through endless strategy meetings without the faintest idea what was going on outside the holotable conference rooms. He couldn’t stop remembering Tup strapped down to a cot, crying out in distress and confusion.

Not Fives. Please, not Fives.

During his final meeting of the day, Rex received a comm message from a tipsy Kix with coordinates to the undercity. Urgently, he excused himself from the group of command class brothers catching up with one another and ran out of the military base like there was a rancor on his tail.

When he arrived at the designated warehouse, however, it was empty. The only evidence of anyone having been there was the busted ray shield mechanism, which alluded to some kind of struggle. But there was no trail to follow, and Rex returned to the Resolute feeling defeated and terrified. Fives was one of the best soldiers in the whole karking GAR, but even he couldn’t hope to evade an entire battalion of Coruscant Guards. And who knew who else might be infected with the virus by now?

Rex was pacing the length of his quarters when he was contacted by Commander Tano at close to zero hundred. All she would tell him was that Fives was safe; she promised she would explain the rest if he met her the next morning.

After the call, Rex tried to calm himself enough to review the requisition requests piling up in his inbox, but his focus kept straying. Eventually, he surrendered and put his work away, collapsing on his bunk.

He tugged the thin blanket over himself and began murmuring his remembrances for all the vod'e the 501st had lost, throat thick by the time he got to the shinies who had died on Ringo Vinda. Every night he recited the names, but the pain of the losses never went away.

He knew by now it never would.

Though the undercity was dark at all hours, there was a glimmer of sunlight near the portal on level 4810. By the time Kix and Jesse arrived at the designated meeting spot, the streets were filled with the Coruscant workforce, commuters traveling up from lower levels via railspeeders and anxious beings hurrying to subway stops to make their second shifts. The sweet and tangy fragrances of bantha-butter pancakes and Aurebesh soup wafted from a diner nearby, and there was a line of groggy beings out the door of a caf bistro across the thoroughfare.

The Coruscant Guard presence was heavier than usual, the steady rhythm of each patrol’s boots like a menacing song. Kix ducked into an alley and dragged Jesse in with him. Fives had said he was being framed, and that the conspiracy went all the way to the top. Given that it had been Fox’s men who had sent out the all-hands alert, Kix figured they couldn’t be trusted at the moment.

“Here,” Jesse said, handing him a ration bar and his thermajug. “You should have some breakfast. I know you got out of bed early even though you were hungover.”

Kix sighed, though he secretly felt a bloom of pleasure at Jesse’s concern. “Thanks,” he said, tearing off the wrapper and shoving the bar into his mouth. He washed it down with a long pull of the nutrient-tabbed water. “I had to watch over Drifter; Coric said he barely survived the operation.”

“I know,” Jesse said, exasperated. “But you could’ve stopped for five klicks to grab a bite! I can’t always be sneaking you trays from the mess.”

“How about you let me worry about my stomach, and I’ll—”

In the middle of his sentence, Jesse nudged him, and Kix looked up to see Rex approaching. They snapped to attention.

Rex waved a hand at them. “At ease, Jesse, Kix. Did the Commander ask you here as well?”

Jesse nodded. “Do you know what this is about, sir?”

“She wouldn’t tell me anything,” Rex said, glancing around and ducking further into the alley so he couldn’t be seen from the main thoroughfare. “But I guess we’ll find out soon enough.”

“Captain,” Kix said quietly, “did you go to the coordinates I sent you last night?”

“I did,” Rex said, his voice so low Kix had to lean in to hear it. “But nobody was there.”

“What? But—”

He was interrupted by the arrival of Commander Tano in an old, beat-up airspeeder. She apologized for her tardiness and beckoned them into the vehicle.

Kix exchanged a puzzled glance with his brothers, but Rex shrugged and jumped in beside her. Jesse and Kix climbed into the back seat obediently.

Jesse whistled as they ascended through the portal. “Nice view,” he said, leaning out the side to admire the impressive sight of the undercity, each level progressively brighter and fancier than the last, until they were topside again, the unobscured sunlight a sudden shock to Kix’s eyes.

He blinked furiously, then was thrown into Jesse’s side as Commander Tano banked the airspeeder around a towering skyscraper and cut through the busy civilian lanes with expertise. The Commander’s piloting was nearly as terrifying as her master’s. Jesse squeezed Kix’s side with an affectionate grin.

They passed the military base, then the Jedi Temple, and entered the Senate District. Everything in the neighborhood was built around the massive Senate Rotunda—alleged to be at the center of the galaxy—and beside it was a wide, grassy expanse dotted with red- and indigo-armored figures. Ahead were the iconic gilded towers of the senatorial apartment complex.

The Commander headed in their direction and elegantly pulled the airspeeder into a spot behind a large shuttle in the underground visitors’ hangar. When Kix peered out past the ship, he could see the place was crawling with Coruscant Guards.

Commander Tano swore. “We need to get to the turbolift at point-four, but we must avoid detection,” she said. “The Guard can’t know we’re here.”

“Understood,” Rex said.

They made their way toward the turbolift, ducking low and using the various speeders and ships as cover. Once the path was clear, the Commander signed for them to quickly follow her.

Kix breathed a sigh of relief when the lift doors closed with them safely inside. Though no blasters had been fired, he and Jesse moved to stand back to back on instinct.

Commander Tano punched something into her wrist comm, then a reedy voice on the other end said, “Copy.” A button on the control panel lit up.

The turbolift shot up like a rocket, then came to a smooth stop on the sixty-third floor. The Commander led them down a brightly lit granalite corridor and stopped at the end of it, standing before ornate double doors. She waved her hand, and the door console chimed and slid open with a hiss.

A young Human with dark eyes and a thin face stood in the foyer of the quarters, arms crossed. He wore the intricate garb of senators and representatives, and smiled at the Commander, then nodded at Rex.

Rex’s jaw dropped. “Bonteri? What are you doing here?”

“Hello, Captain,” Bonteri said, a twinkle in his eyes. “It may be hard to believe, but they’ve allowed me to represent Onderon in the Senate. Why don’t you come on in, and you can introduce me to your friends?”

He led them to the grand sitting room and gestured for them to settle on the sofas. Kix remained standing, as did Rex and Jesse. Out of habit, he scoped out the exits and windows, and noticed the jammer sitting on the low table. He knew that, next to him, Jesse was doing the same thing. Like all senator apartments, the quarters prioritized glamor over safety, and there were multiple vulnerable points.

The Commander perched on the arm of a brightly colored sofa. “Boys, this is my old friend Senator Bonteri. Lux, this is Jesse, one of my most efficient fighters, and Kix, the best medic in the GAR.”

“Pleased to make your acquaintance,” Bonteri said with a smooth bow. “I’ll go collect our friend.” He wheeled around and headed down the warmly lit corridor.

Feeling uneasy, Kix leaned over to whisper in Jesse’s ear, “What are we doing here?”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Jesse said, shrugging.

“You’ll see,” the Commander said, a secretive smile on her face. Kix relaxed a little at it; he trusted she would warn them if it was something bad.

After a moment, Bonteri returned, another set of footsteps joining his. Someone in the ubiquitous clone blacks—

“Fives!” Rex gasped.

“Hey, Rex,” Fives said, rubbing his neck. The regulation-length hair he had sported just a few days ago had been shaved off, and there was a bacta bandage plastered to the side of his head. Kix frowned; drinking had hazed his memories of the previous night, so he couldn’t remember whether Fives had been wearing that when they’d spoken in the refresher. But he knew for certain he hadn’t treated him for a head injury on Ringo Vinda, which meant he must have gotten it afterward.

Rex grabbed Fives’s forearm, then dragged him into a hug. “I didn’t know what happened to you,” he said breathlessly. “The Guard put out a bulletin, and I couldn’t find you. I thought—”

“I’m here, brother,” Fives said. “The Commander saved me.”

Rex glanced at Commander Tano and quickly signed his gratitude over Fives’s shoulder. She nodded solemnly, her eyes shining.

When Rex finally let go of Fives, Jesse clasped his forearm. “Good to see you, vod. You had us worried.”

Kix followed suit, smiling. “I’m glad you’re okay, Fives. But what the kriff happened to your head?”

Fives huffed a humorless laugh. “Funny you should ask. That’s why we’ve brought you all here today.” He motioned to the sofas. “I think you’re going to want to sit down for this.”

Over the strong tea and tangy meiloorun buns Bonteri brought them, Fives told his brothers everything: the chips, the Kaminoans, the Chancellor—all of it.

“You can’t be serious,” Jesse said. Beside him, Kix was shaking his head in denial. Rex had been silent and wide-eyed throughout the entire tale, teacup sitting forgotten in his hand.

“I’m extremely serious,” Fives replied, stuffing the remainder of a bun into his mouth and crossing his arms. His muscles were aching like they hadn’t since ARC training, and he felt as if he might topple over any minute. Whatever Nala Se had injected him with had been nasty.

That, and he hadn’t achieved much sleep the previous night, despite the expensive liquor Bonteri offered him and the bed being nicer than any other sleeping surface he had ever experienced. Every time he had closed his eyes, he had dreamed of Palpatine’s sadistic grin, of the grim future he had sketched out. Then the dream would roll right into the usual ones—the ones apparently all the vod'e had, of being possessed by an unseen power and murdering the Jedi. They no longer seemed like mere dreams.

“He’s telling the truth,” the Commander said. Fives startled; she had been so quiet during his retelling that he had nearly forgotten she was there. She laid a hand on his shoulder in assurance, and when he looked up her eyes were hard, anger simmering beneath the surface.

Kix sighed, leaning his elbows on his knees and running an anxious hand over his short hair. “Then what do we do about it?”

“We fight,” Rex spoke at last, his voice underlaid with pain and fear and wrath that felt all too familiar to Fives. “We do everything in our power to save our brothers and the Jedi, and to stop whoever’s responsible—even if we have to go all the way to the top.”

The enormous knot in Fives’s chest eased at Rex’s certainty. He sat up straighter. “Thank you for believing me, sir.”

Rex chewed his lip. “Thank you for bringing this to our attention.” He steepled his fingers. “Our first objective has to be removing the chips. Kix, what do you advise?”

“Brain surgery is going to be difficult to swing for four million vod'e, plus however many shinies they send,” Kix said. “Once I complete a few surgeries and put together a preop plan, we’re going to need to get this information out to every medic in the GAR.”

“Provided they believe us,” Jesse muttered.

“They’ll have to,” Rex said firmly. “We’ll start with the commanders we trust: Cody, Oddball, Wolffe, Blackout... As their regiments get dechipped, we’ll have proof for the other vod'e.”

Commander Tano tapped her chin. “Kix, how long do you estimate it’ll take to neutralize the chips?”

“If I had to say—months, probably. Two at the least.”

“That time needs to be spent gathering evidence for the courts,” Rex said. “Fives, those files you discovered on Kamino—would you be able to collect them if we got you in?”

“I think so,” Fives said, “but the Genetic Records Hall is closely guarded—once we’re in, the chances of being caught are high. I didn’t make it out last time.” He shuddered at the memory.

“Blast,” Rex swore. “We need that evidence to end the war and stop the Chancellor. Brothers are dying all the time, and the longer this takes, the more pointless deaths there will be.”

The Commander nodded. “And as long as the chips are active and Palpatine is in power, the Jedi are in grave danger. We need to get those files sooner than later, through whatever means necessary. Without it, the Council won’t believe us. Lux—”

Bonteri nodded, eyes sharp. “If you acquire the evidence, I’ll gather allies and prepare to present it to the Senate.”

“When we get the evidence,” the Commander corrected with that cocky grin that always gave Fives a boost of confidence in the impossible on the battlefield. “All right, boys. We’ll have to plan carefully. We don’t know who else might be in Palpatine’s pocket, and surveillance on Coruscant is robust. For now, our main objectives are removing our chips and getting Fives off Coruscant. Eventually, we’ll need to leave the fleet so we can scout Kamino. Fives, you said a droid there assisted you with the surgery?”

As the sun stretched toward midday, they brainstormed endless strategies. Eventually, they came up with one plan, then another and another. They had five more days on Coruscant, and they were going to make them count.

By the time the Commander and his brothers departed, each with their own parts to play, Fives was exhausted. He collapsed on the sofa, groaning.

Bonteri went to his liquor cabinet and held up a tall, slim bottle. “Sunfruit whiskey?”

“Please,” Fives said, head buried in the pillows. “Then I’m going to take the longest nap of all time.”

Bonteri huffed, amused. “Just do it in your room, all right? I’m meeting Senators Limoth and Olbeg shortly, and there’s a possibility I’ll have to invite them back here.”

“Yes, sir,” Fives said dryly, his voice muffled in the fabric. “Whatever you say, sir.” He held out his empty teacup.

After their covert meeting, they bade Fives goodbye and returned to the Resolute. Rex felt numb all the way there, thinking about what Cut Lawquane had said to him on Saleucami about free will and the pointlessness of war. The vod'e were taught by the Kaminoans that they all had the same potential, could perform the same feats and rise to the same heights. But, in what privacy they had in their barracks, Rex and his brothers had taught one another that they were each wholly unique, feeling different emotions and making different decisions from their brethren, in spite of their identical DNA.

But if there was a chip in every vod that took away even that tiny ounce of freedom, then they had only been lying to themselves. Because what Fives had just told them implied each and every one of them was little more than a droid upholstered with flesh and bone.

Rex took a deep, shaky breath, hands clenching into fists at his side. On his left, Commander Tano bumped her shoulder against his arm and tilted her head when he looked down at her.

All right? she signed, out of Kix and Jesse’s eyeline.

Rex nodded, ignoring the sick churn in his belly.

They accompanied Kix and Jesse to the medbay, where Kix led them to the closet he called an office. Rex shut the door, and the Commander switched on the jammer Bonteri had given them.

With a shrug, Jesse volunteered to be their test subject for the level-five atomic brain scan, climbing onto the exam table. Rex crossed his arms and held them tightly as the machine began to whir.

To their profound relief, Jesse emerged from the brain scan unscathed, just as Fives had promised. Kix grabbed Jesse’s hand and squeezed it, and they shared a private smile. Rex exhaled.

Together, they all stared at the resulting scan, the chip a red, blinking anomaly in the image.

“It’s real, then,” Rex said grimly. He felt alongside his head, where his own chip must be, lying innocuously in wait of receiving a command on the other end.

Kix was studying the scan, his eyes narrowed. “A regular scan wouldn’t have detected this,” he said. “That’s proof enough of the Kaminoans’ bad intentions for me.”

Even the Commander looked openly disturbed. “It’s so small for such a powerful item,” she said as Kix zoomed in on the image. “How could the beings who brought you to life do this to you?”

Jesse sat up, stretching his legs. “You’re assuming the Kaminoans ever considered us anything but products, sir,” he said. “They’ve never seen us as true sentients.”

“Well, we’re going to change that,” the Commander swore. “I promise you.”

Rex put a hand on her shoulder. “Thank you, sir,” he said with feeling.

Shortly afterward, Kix kicked them out, citing the preop research he needed to do. Jesse waved goodbye to them from where he was perched on Kix’s desk, refusing to budge even when Kix emphasized that research really meant research and nothing else. Rex snorted in amusement. It had already been a long day, though it was barely 1500. He was happy to give them some space.

“Have you eaten today, Commander?” he asked once they were back in the corridor. “I‘m going to stop by the mess, if you’d like to join me.”

She assented, and they turned down the hall, nodding at the brothers they passed on the way to the mess. The Commander was silent the whole walk, hands tucked behind her back and face scrunched in thought.

“What is it, sir?” Rex asked.

“I can't stop thinking about—it’s just—why would the—” She looked around, then lowered her voice. “Why would the Perpetrator want to eliminate the Order? What does he stand to gain?”

“Well,” Rex replied, thinking, “politicians are always seeking more power, right?”

“Yes, and I don’t pretend to understand politics, but wouldn’t it make more sense for him to want to bring the Order under his thrall? Emergency measures have already put so many institutions under his control. Why not another?”

“I don’t know, sir,” Rex said, frowning as they entered the mess hall. The sudden buzz of conversation and laughter and camaraderie eased his nerves, making his tense muscles relax. He nodded at a squad that was exiting. “Maybe he secretly hates you lot?”

“Exactly,” the Commander said, smiling and waving at the men at the tables. “I have a bad feeling about that.”

“Well, what do you mean?” he asked as they got in line for the dregs of midmeal.

Though it was already late in the afternoon, there were still plenty of brothers waiting for their food. Too many—Commander Tano drew a line across her throat to indicate they should move to safer conversation topics. Once they collected their rations, she gestured to the caf machine.

“You want your usual?”

“Yes, please,” Rex said, taking her tray. “Thank you, sir.”

He found them an isolated table in the far corner of the mess, away from the window. The Commander joined him shortly, two steaming mugs in her hands. She handed one to Rex, who thanked her and immediately put his face over the mug, inhaling the scent of what the 501st considered the elixir of life.

“So,” the Commander said as she dug into her slop, “what do you know about the Sith?”

Rex thought back. “On Kamino, they used to make us read storypads about the Jedi’s triumphs over the red-blades—to get us to admire you, I guess. But until we fought Ventress, I thought those were just legends.”

Commander Tano shook her head. “Ancient history, more like. At the Temple, they told us that the Sith were originally a splinter group. After they left, endless war began, and they became our mortal enemies. Eventually, they were wiped out, cannibalized by their own greed and thirst for power—or so we thought.”

Rex tore off a piece of a protein biscuit and chewed as he watched the Commander, unsure where she was going with this.

She lowered her voice. “What if the Perpetrator is a Sith in disguise? Perhaps Dooku's apprentice? Or...his master?”

Rex reared back in shock, eyes wide. “Commander, I don’t think—”

“Think about it," Commander Tano said urgently. "Maul and Ventress are evidence of the Sith returning. I think Dooku is either using the Perpetrator or being used by him, for a greater purpose. They start a war to gather power and put the Jedi in charge to discredit them, secretly manufacture soldiers to eliminate them, and ultimately gain control of the galaxy—and the Perpetrator accomplishes it all under the guise of being a helpless elderly Human.”

Rex shook his head, feeling lightheaded at the prospect. “But doesn’t the Jedi Council meet with the him all the time? Wouldn’t they sense if he were hiding a secret like that?”

Commander Tano bit her lip. “Fair point. But I still want to look into it while we’re on-planet.”

“I’d say any possibility is worth investigation at this point,” Rex said. He sighed. “I still can’t believe what we just learned. And Tup—” His chest hurt.

The Commander reached across the table and grasped his forearm in the vod'e clasp. “Nu ky’adyc,” she said. Not gone. He and Broadside had taught her the Mando’a adage back when she had lost her squadron over Ryloth. They had clasped wrists and recited their remembrances together. Now she was often the one teaching it to the shinies.

“Shi taab’echaaj’la,” he said, completing the phrase. Merely marching off. He smiled. “We've got to work on your pronunciation.”

Commander Tano grinned sheepishly, unoffended. “The language courses were never my forte—I’ve known Master Plo all my life but still can't get the Kel Dor tonals right.”

Smiling affectionately, Rex clasped her forearm, completing the salute. “Thank you, sir. For believing him, and saving him.” She nodded, understanding immediately of whom he was speaking. “For being willing to help us.”

“No thanks are necessary, Rexster,” she said firmly. “It’s my duty as a Jedi—and as a friend.”

Rex nodded, grateful, and clinked his mug against hers. The caf was heavy and bitter and piping hot—just the way he liked it.

The 501st and the whole damn GAR were unbelievably lucky to have Ahsoka Tano among their ranks. There wasn’t a finer commander in the galaxy.

Ahsoka made her way through the Temple, nodding at the Jedi she recognized. When she spotted Barriss, she scurried across the corridor to intercept her. Barriss’s shoulders were slumped, her weariness casting a shadow across her delicate features.

“Barriss!” Ahsoka exclaimed, embracing her. “It’s been so long!”

“Hey, Ahsoka,” Barriss said, a ghost of a smile flashing across her face. Ahsoka frowned at her wilted voice and put her hands on her hips.

“Have you been getting enough sleep?”

Barriss sighed. “Probably not. Master Unduli and I have been on virtually back-to-back missions for the past three Standard months, with only a few stops on Coruscant in between. We’ve lost a lot of men—friends.”

“I’m sorry,” Ahsoka said. She thought of Rex in the mess hall earlier, drained and disconsolate. “You must remember that they died honorable deaths, for a cause they believed in.”

Barriss’s mouth twisted. “Yes, well, the citizens certainly didn’t feel that way.”

Ahsoka waved that away. “There are always those who refuse our aid—Separatist sympathizers who can’t see the bigger picture. But we always try to help them however we can, regardless.”

“Do we,” Barriss snapped.

Ahsoka jerked at her uncharacteristically sharp tone.

Barriss sighed. “I apologize. The fatigue must be getting to me.” She gathered her skirts and bowed formally. “Pardon me.”

Bewildered, Ahsoka watched her dash away. Barriss was reserved, but she had impeccable manners. They had become fast friends after their misadventure on Geonosis and the whole brain worm ordeal, and Barriss was always warm toward her, if a bit nervous.

Ahsoka shook her head; she could try to find her later. For now, she had a mission. The Grand Army of the Republic was counting her.

Though she never went to the Jedi Archives if she could help it, she knew the path there well. The moment she entered, the tranquility of the Force washed over her.

The ever-watchful Master Nu noticed her soon after. “Padawan Tano!” she greeted, her gait nimble and white hair bound in its customary, practical bun. “What a pleasant surprise. Don’t tell me you’re in trouble again, young one.”

“Don’t worry, Master Nu,” Ahsoka said, smiling and bowing. “I’m here of my own volition. I was hoping to check out some books.”

“Oh? Why the sudden interest?”

Ahsoka shrugged. “I’ve been on leave for two days and my master has been in meeting after meeting. Since I’m going to be here for the rest of the Standard week, I figured this would be a more productive use of my time than practicing all the forms I already know.”

“Ah, believe it or not, I was once in your place.” Master Nu smiled fondly at the memory. “That’s how I discovered the wonder of the Archives in the first place.”

Ahsoka grinned. “You’ll have to show me your moves, Master—sometime when we’re not in the middle of a war.”

Master Nu laughed. “I’ll consider it. Now, can I help you find anything in particular today?”

“I was hoping to learn more about the history of the Order—about the Great Schism and the Jedi wars.”

“And here I thought you were here to pick up a novel or two,” Master Nu said lightly. “Come, I’ll show you the way.”

Ahsoka followed her, looking around. There were younglings whispering at one of the tables, and a lone Padawan learner with prosthetic arms perusing engineering texts, and a duo of elderly Knights levitating holobooks down from the highest shelves.

Then they passed Master Kenobi browsing a section in the middle of the library. Quickly, Ahsoka turned her head, hoping he hadn’t seen her. He knew her too well and would undoubtedly be suspicious about her visit.

Master Nu showed her to the history section and pointed out the shelves that might contain what she was interested in, then left her to it. Ahsoka stared up at the towering stacks and stacks of holobooks. They daunted her in a way that battle never did. Sighing, she tugged at a spine that seemed promising and flickered through the preview of its contents.

For a couple hours, Ahsoka got lost in her research. She had found history—especially that of wars—stuffy and boring as youngling, but she now had a much greater understanding and appreciation for the subject. Plus, before her lightsabers had clashed with a red one, the Sith had seemed like mythical figures. After Fives's revelations, they seemed more real than ever.

She was so preoccupied that she didn’t notice someone had approached until they spoke.

“Fancy seeing you here.”

Ahsoka jumped at the sight of Master Kenobi beside her, leaning over the table to peek at what she was reading. She turned the book off quickly.

“Master Kenobi! Um, hello.”

“Hello there,” Master Kenobi responded, eyebrows raised. “Now what kind of trouble have you been stirring to warrant being sent here again?”

“What! I’m not—why does everyone think that?” Ahsoka grumbled. “I...was curious about something, so I decided to come here when my master didn’t know the answer.“

“Hardly surprising,” Master Kenobi quipped. “You know you can always come to me whenever you’d like a more...academic perspective.”

“I know,” Ahsoka said quickly. “Thanks, Master Kenobi.” Hoping to deter him from asking more questions, she glanced at the stack of slim holobooks in his arms—then rubbed her eyes and stared at the titles again: Odes to Candell Rho, Mandalorian Love Poems, Song for Yiondr.

“Is that...love poetry?” She couldn’t keep the grin off her face.

To her delight, Master Kenobi flushed all the way down his neck and clutched the books tighter in his arms, obscuring their titles.

“I thought I might get some light reading done while we’re on planet,” he said, but he was so uncharacteristically flustered it was obvious he was hiding something.

“Right,” Ahsoka said, raising her eyebrows.

Master Kenobi cleared his throat. “Excuse me, I have—a...matter I must attend to immediately.” He scurried out of the room.

Ahsoka watched him leave, grinning unrepentantly. Who in the world was Master Kenobi studying love poetry for?

She shook her head with a quiet laugh; she’d thought Master Kenobi was a decent liar, but that performance had been nearly as bad as Master Skywalker’s. Who knew the Jedi Archives could be so entertaining after all?

The Grand Republic Medical Facility smelled like bacta, sweet and clean, mingled with bitter disinfecting agents; Jesse knew he had spent too much time in Kix's medbay because he found the scents strangely comforting.

He poked his head out the fire escape door, then retreated when he saw a gaggle of white-clad doctors walking toward the turbolift. He held his fist up to stop Kix and the Commander from moving until the group had passed. Once they were in the lift, Jesse darted from their hiding spot, making his way to the research-and-development floor’s command center. Kix, balancing a stack of datapads, followed him closely, and Commander Tano brought up the rear.

Just three beings were working in the center, all Humans. They looked up at the doors slid open. The Commander waved a hand, and all three slumped to the ground just as the doors closed.

While Kix and the Commander dragged them to a corner, Jesse plugged into the holotable console and began slicing through the Republic firewalls.

“Anything?” Commander Tano asked, peering over his shoulder. His code was running, searching for keywords related to biochips, clones, Tup’s “virus,” and the like.

Jesse shook his head. “It’s going to need some time.”

“Kix, go guard the door,” the Commander said. “Use the alibi we discussed.”

Kix nodded, slipping out the door with his decoy datapads. Jesse scrolled through the results his program was spitting out, looking for anything that might be useful to them. He opened a holovideo file.

The recording was of the Senate, Nala Se speaking from Senator Burtoni’s repulsorpod at the center of the chamber. She reported what had happened to Tup, and what Fives had done in his madness. Jesse scowled at the lies coming out of her mouth.

“Wait,” Commander Tano said, “it wasn’t just Nala Se with Fives when he came back here, right?”

“No,” Jesse said. "He said General Ti was with them. And the Chancellor, of course.”

“And where the Chancellor is, so is Mas Amedda,” the Commander said. “Nala Se said the Senate conducted an independent investigation. Ten credits says it was led by Amedda and the Militarists, and they dragged their feet the whole way before just saying whatever Palpatine wanted them to say.”

“Records of the investigation,” Jesse murmured to himself. He began running a sidebar search.

“And recent communications.” The Commander was checking her chrono anxiously, her hands twitching toward the lightsabers clicked to his belt.

“Look at this,” Jesse said, pulling up a holocall log. “General Ti sent a message to Mas Amedda and the president of this medical facility, reporting on Fives's condition and requesting the Chancellor's approval for the confidential use of the facility. Less than an hour later, Nala Se also sent a message to Mas Amedda and the president, but it's sealed. Why would she contact him separately, unless she was up to something?”

“And why else would it be blocked?" the Commander mused. "Transfer it to the drive. Transfer any communications from Nala Se to Coruscant you find.”

“Yes, sir,” Jesse said, typing furiously.

He was watching the completion bars load when suddenly a tidal wave of bone-chilling frost pierced him. It numbed his body, freezing him from bucket to boot. Though he had fought on ice planets before, that stinging cold was nothing compared to this dark void, like the bottom of the deepest cavern in an ocean, or a moon so far from a system’s sun that it had never known light. Shuddering jaggedly, he dropped his datapad and barely registered when it clattered to the ground.

“Jesse?” Commander Tano said, leaning close. "What is it?"

Jesse forced his mouth to move. "D-Do you f-feel that?” he stammered, his voice sounding as if it were coming from far away.

“Yeah," the Commander said, closing her eyes. "Yeah, it feels like—”

Jesse never heard the rest of her sentence because all at once the ice seemed to grow tendrils, creeping up his body and wrapping around his limbs, and suddenly he was floating two feet in the air and his next breath wouldn’t come.

He panicked, clawing at his neck as he choked on something invisible.

Beside him, the Commander had drawn her lightsabers and was whipping her head around to spot the unseen enemy. But there was no sign of anyone else in the room.

Jesse’s vision began to blur, his lungs giving in, and his hands fell to his sides helplessly. He barely noticed the Commander grabbing his forearm and doing something with the Force that made a swell of warm tranquility pulse through his body.

Dazedly, his mind floated to the memory of the time the 501st had been sent to Xagobah. During their first night there, he and Kix had snuck from the camp to watch the famed sunrise, shoulder to shoulder, enjoying some measure of peace together before they were to enter the fraught battle the next day.

Another wave coursed through him, and he thought of their bonding ceremony, of the way Kix had smiled so sweetly at him, eyes wet and tattoo still settling, their hands wrapped together with paracord; and the way Kix had giggled and called him riduur and husband afterward, the two of them—and the rest of Torrent Company—happily drunk on Hardcase's moonshine after endless toasts.

Jesse sucked in a deep breath, the sudden rush of oxygen the best gift he had ever received.

Get out of here! someone shouted in his head. Get out of here, you monster!

It sounded like Commander Tano, her voice steel and fury and fire. But she wasn’t talking to him.

Dizzily, Jesse came back to himself with a coughing fit. The Commander’s hand was immediately on his back, her eyes wide with concern.

“Are you all right?”

“Yeah,” Jesse managed weakly, rubbing his aching throat. “What was that?”

“Remember my theory about the Sith? I think we’re witnessing that hypothesis play out.”

“Couldn’t it play out on someone else?” Jesse complained. He picked up the datapad he had dropped, disconnecting the transfer cables and tucking it inside his armor. “We must have tripped something that alerted the enemy of a foreign presence in the systems.”

“You’re probably right,” Commander Tano said grimly. She helped him up, arranging his arm over her shoulder. “Regardless, I think we need to get out of here. Now.”

When they exited the room, Kix was talking animatedly to someone in a lab coat off to the side, his stack of datapads slightly smaller than it'd been when he left the room. He had been watching their door over the technician’s shoulder, and he blinked twice at them, waiting to receive orders. The Commander signaled at him, We’re retreating. Meet us downstairs.

They slipped into the stairwell, and Jesse gripped the railing as he descended, his gut roiling.

“All right?” Commander Tano murmured, arm steady around his waist.

Jesse nodded, pushing away his nausea. He had to stay alert and protect her if necessary.

They slunk onto a maintenance floor and boarded the turbolift from there. It brought them back down to the hangar floor, where the Commander led Jesse back to her airspeeder. Then she crept back to the lift entrance.

Jesse lost track of time, distracted by the terrible memory of that chilling presence inside his head, keeping him pinned and stealing his breath. He gripped the side of the airspeeder, counting his breaths as Rex had taught him back when he’d been a shiny.

Eventually, Commander Tano returned with Kix, who took one look at Jesse and immediately jumped into the airspeeder and began checking his vitals. Grumbling, Jesse waved him away.

Face creased in concern, Kix curled his arm around Jesse’s shoulders, supporting him. Jesse gave in and leaned into him, still feeling faint, his stomach churning like Kamino’s squalls.

“What happened?” Kix asked the Commander anxiously.

“I think Palpatine was in Jesse’s head, trying to find out what he knew,” she said. “He’s in metaphysical shock—it’ll take his body and mind some time to recover from the invasion.”

Kix stared at him, eyes wide. “How are you feeling, cyar’ika?”

“Strange,” Jesse said, wincing. “Sick.”

“Let’s get you back to the Resolute,” the Commander said, starting up the airspeeder. She looked back at him in concern before they took off. “Hang on, Lieutenant.”

“I’ll do my best, sir,” Jesse said.

The Commander pulled the airspeeder into a civilian lane, the wind whipping at them. The harsh feeling grounded Jesse, giving him something to focus on over than the commotion in his head. Gently, Kix tugged Jesse’s head onto his shoulder, murmuring to him softly.

Jesse obeyed, closing his eyes and letting the comforting voice of his riduur wash over him. The world faded away.

Chapter Text

“I feel like because I can fight, I have to, for those who cannot.”
—Leia Organa

On the 501st's penultimate day of leave, the Jedi Temple was attacked. Forty staff members—including six Jedi and eighteen vod’e—were killed.

Since Master Skywalker and Master Kenobi had been away on a Council-ordained mission, they were assigned to investigate the matter. At the time of the bombing, Ahsoka had been helping Masters Yoda and Drallig lead a demonstration on lightsaber technique for a class of younglings, giving her a slightly better alibi than the other Jedi on-planet. She was instructed to remain on call in the Temple while Master Skywalker went to interview the witnesses in the Halls of Healing.

The thought of a place as sacred as the Jedi Temple being attacked was deeply unnerving—and now there were the rumors in the corridors speculating that a Jedi was the culprit. Though Ahsoka hadn’t been injured, she kept catching her hands shaking after the news was delivered.

She tried Barriss’s quarters, looking for the comfort of her serene and composed friend. But nobody answered the door.

Ahsoka knew Master Kenobi would tell her she should meditate, but she had never been good at sitting still, especially when she was angry and scared. Master Skywalker understood her restlessness better and always suggested a spar in the training rooms of the Resolute, the curious, admiring eyes of the vod’e on them as they set aside their lightsabers to fight hand to hand. Sighing, she went down to the training area and began stretching on the sparring mats.

Ahsoka was pinning Padawan Learners Caleb Dume and Cal Kestis to the ground, straining to keep the hold, when her comlink went off. She motioned that they should practice against each other and stepped off the mat to take the call.

“Ahsoka,” Master Kenobi's voice sounded from the other end. “I’m told you’re available and cleared to assist in the case?”

“Yes, Master Kenobi,” Ahsoka said. “Where do you need me?”

She returned to her quarters to grab an outer robe, then threw the hood on. With her lightsabers out of sight, she boarded a civilian transport that was heading down to the undercity. The shuttle was crowded and rickety, and the rusty fans were out, leaving the air muggy and warm from the crammed passengers. She was glad when the stop Master Kenobi had directed her to came up and the transport pulled into the station with a piercing shriek.

It took Ahsoka a moment to spot Master Kenobi on the busy platform, his bright hair hidden under his own cloak and his spine hunched over.

“Good, you’re here,” Master Kenobi said when Ahsoka approached. His arms were crossed and his expression tense. Without warning, he began to walk from their meeting place, and she quickened her pace to catch up to him, long practiced in keeping up with Master Skywalker’s stride. Speaking of...

“Where’s Master Skywalker?” she asked.

“The Chancellor summoned him for an impromptu discussion—something about wanting to pick his brain about the attack.”

“I see,” Ahsoka said, willing her face to remain blank. As long as she had known Master Skywalker, he had frequently and randomly been called back to Coruscant by Palpatine. Now that she had an idea of the menace that lurked in Chancellor’s office, the conversations Master Skywalker always alluded to seemed much more nefarious.

Ahsoka gritted her teeth. Now was not the time to consider it. She needed to focus on shielding her emotions, lest Master Kenobi suspect she was hiding something.

“So where are we heading?” she asked as they rounded a corner.

“Our suspect’s apartment,” Master Kenobi said, lowering his voice. She leaned in closer to hear him over the street noise. “He was the foreman of the gunships in the hangar—and a noted munitions expert. We discovered what remained of him near the blast origin, and found that, disturbingly enough, both he and the ship were covered in nano-droids.”

“Nano-droids?” Ahsoka frowned. “But how did he get them through the Temple’s detectors?”

“We detected them in his bloodstream,” Master Kenobi said grimly.

“That is disturbing.” She shuddered at the thought.

Master Kenobi had the address to the suspect’s apartment, but the streets were labyrinthine, and they got turned around twice. They gave up and stopped to ask the locals for directions; Ahsoka recognized Master Kenobi’s pleasant expression and the demure way he carried himself as the strategy he usually employed with rumored Separatists.

“Hmm, not the most civilized of places, is it?” Master Kenobi murmured as they turned down a narrow alleyway that smelled foul to Ahsoka. Smoke billowed into her face, and she waved it away in irritation.

Every time she traveled to the lower levels, she was shocked at how disparate life here was compared the district in which she had grown up—how much the beings here suffered, with no advent of help. Pain and anguish and grief hung heavy and dark in the Force. Topside, in contrast, the buildings were glittering towers and the streets were crammed with beings. Here, the citizens were sparse and quiet and the air heavy with fumes that made her head hurt. Abandoned crates and debris were scattered along duracrete walls tagged with colorful art and names. Ahsoka could feel the wary, fearful eyes on them as they made their way to their destination.

The apartment building sat a few steps above ground level. Ahsoka kicked an empty can from the entrance and followed Master Kenobi through the doors. The hallway was lit with old flo-rez lights that flickered erratically.

Ahsoka looked around, grimacing as she felt something like disappointment swell in her chest. “I would’ve thought that working for the Jedi paid better.”

Master Kenobi stopped before the doors to a set of quarters and knocked neatly, twice. When there was no answer, he persuaded them open. The apartment was dark, illuminated only by the neon lights of the undercity. Empty wine bottles were scattered across the dining table, and modern paintings adorned the walls.

“Letta?” Master Kenobi called. “Letta Turmond?”

There was no answer.

“Check for a note,” Master Kenobi said, extracting a scanner and datapad from his robes. “I’ll see if I can find the droids. We mustn’t set off another explosion.”

“Yes, Master,” Ahsoka said, and began to scour the main living area.

She looked around the sofa and behind the painting frames and holoscreen before finding a pile of datapads and holoprojectors beside writing tools on a worktable. One of the ’pads’ holoprojector was chirping and flashing red.

When Ahsoka moved the datapads aside, the holo became visible: an image of a vod’e bucket with a slash through the center.

She reared back, startled. She knew there were protesters at the edges of the galaxy who decried the war, but she had never encountered any here in the Core. Did this mean Letta Turmond had set off the explosion as a political statement?

Before Ahsoka could investigate further, Master Kenobi called her to the kitchen at the back of the unit. When she got there, he was peering down the sink’s disposal, face twisted in horror. The scanner in his hand was buzzing loudly at his discovery.

Ahsoka felt her stomach lurch when she put it together. “The nano-droids were in the food?!”

“I’m afraid so,” Master Kenobi said, wincing. “What we don’t know is...did he eat them of his own volition? Or did someone feed them to him?”

Ahsoka was about to respond when they were interrupted by a cry: “W-what are you doing here?”

They whipped around to see a rail-thin Human dressed in bright purple at the door jamb. Ahsoka assumed it was Letta Turmond. She had dark hair and dark face tattoos, and, despite the scorn in her eyes, radiated anxiety and fear in the Force, fidgeting where she stood and looking ready to run.

“Letta,” Master Kenobi said gently, making his way over to her, “we’ve discovered Jackar was involved in the bombing.”

“That can’t be true!” Letta said, leaning away as Master Kenobi scanned her with the device. Desperately, she looked at Ahsoka as if she might stop him.

Ahsoka stared back at her, face tight, thinking of the anti-clone emblem she had seen earlier. This being didn’t support the war effort and hated the vod’e, blamed them for the Separatists’ evils. Thousands of them gave their lives for the Republic every day and this Coruscanti being dared decry them while she lived in the Core, light-years away from the closest battlefield? Hot, scornful emotion surged in her chest.

Master Kenobi glanced at her sharply. The scanner was quiet, detecting no further nano-droids.

“She’s clean,” he declared.

Nervously, Ahsoka took a deep breath and attempted to release her emotions into the Force.

“We believe someone set Jackar up,” she said, trying to focus on the mission, “and made him the bomb.”

“I—I don’t understand,” Letta stammered.

Master Kenobi’s posture was open, unthreatening. “Letta, we’d like to bring you in to ask you some more questions.”

Letta stared at him, evaluating. “I’ll answer any question I can,” she said, holding her arm against her chest and bowing her head.

The moment they were back on the street, however, she grabbed an elderly Aqualish by the scruff and pushed them into Ahsoka and Master Kenobi—then took the opportunity to flee.

Ahsoka barely caught herself in time to prevent her face from smashing into the pavement. She groaned, annoyed at how she hadn’t seen that coming. By the time she rose to her feet, Letta had darted through the streets and leaped onto a trolley. Master Kenobi was already chasing after her, shouting, “Letta! Stop, please!”

Ahsoka cursed and followed him. They wove through the maze of streets, the neon lights blurring past her line of sight. Master Kenobi signed quickly over his shoulder for Ahsoka to remain on the ground while he took the high road. Adrenaline pumping, she wove through the loose throngs of beings.

They cornered Letta in a dark, smoky alleyway, the way the storefront lights hit the walls making them glow a sickly green.

“Letta!” Master Kenobi shouted. “Please, we just want to talk!”

“Let me go!”

Hands on her hips as a subtle reminder of her lightsabers, Ahsoka growled, “Running means you know more than you’re telling us.”

Letta’s denying motions were frantic, terror radiating from her in the Force. “Jackar is dead,” she cried, “and now you’re trying to blame his murder on me!”

“That’s funny,” Master Kenobi said, his voice light in that way Ahsoka recognized as extremely dangerous. “We never said he was dead.”

Ahsoka came up behind her, predator instincts simmering sharp and menacing beneath her skin. “But running proves you had something to do with the bomb.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Only years of practice stopped Ahsoka from baring her teeth at Letta. She pointed a finger at her, shaking in anger, and shouted, “Beings blamed Jedi because of you! Beings died because of you!”

“You can’t prove anything!” Letta sputtered.

“Letta, did you or did you not feed the nano-droids to Jackar?” Master Kenobi asked calmly. He was holding his hands down at his sides, palms open, to telegraph a lack of threat, but Ahsoka knew how quickly he could move when he needed to. She braced to do the same.

Letta shrunk back, seeming to sense the same thing. “I did,” she admitted.

“You set up your own husband to die?” Ahsoka demanded, disgusted.

“You’re dealing with things you don’t understand,” Letta replied, sneering. Ahsoka bristled, hands dropping to her lightsabers.

“Rest assured,” Master Kenobi interjected dryly before she could further react; he withdrew stun cuffs from the folds of his robes, eyebrows raised. “There will be plenty of time for you to explain just what we don’t understand.”

The funeral room in the Jedi Temple was bleak, the lights low and Master Yoda’s voice grim as he delivered the Jedi eulogy. Despite attending so many similar ceremonies with Master Skywalker since the beginning of the Clone Wars, Ahsoka had never grown used to the frisson of anger that surged through her at the constant losses. Now that she suspected the war had been manufactured as part of the Sith’s plans to exterminate the Jedi, the deaths of her people—her family—enraged her even further. She barely heard Master Yoda’s solemn words, too focused on releasing her emotions into the Force at the sight of six more of them killed.

Afterward, in the corridor, Master Piell’s old captain, Wilhuff Tarkin—who had somehow ingratiated himself with Palpatine and been promoted to admiral in his Special Weapons Group—asserted that the accused would be tried by the Senate, and Ahsoka lost her control, snapping at him.

Master Skywalker scolded her gently but firmly, “Remember, revenge is not the Jedi way,” and Ahsoka could think only of the vod’e; of the look on Rex’s face when Fives told them about their enslavement; of Jesse two days ago, pale and shell-shocked, mind-probed by the Dark side; of the despair in Kix’s eyes as he stared down at the atomic scan of the chip he and the other GAR medics had never known to save their patients from; of Fives, weary but determined, falling asleep on Ahsoka’s shoulder during a late night strategy session and calling out for Tup, whom Fives said hadn’t even understood what was happening before he marched away.

“The evidence seems clear, Ahsoka,” Barriss said, spiritless. “Nothing will ever change.”

Ahsoka was about to respond when Tarkin interrupted, “The Chancellor feels very strongly that the Jedi be removed from as many military matters as possible.”

I’m sure he does, Ahsoka scoffed internally.

At her expression, Tarkin said primly, “You said yourselves that you’re peacekeepers, not soldiers.”

“I hope Chancellor Palpatine knows what he’s doing,” she growled, then snapped her jaw shut before she was tempted to threaten him more explicitly.

Tarkin smirked, and Ahsoka clenched her fists to resist slugging his smarmy face. “I assure you,” he said, “that he rarely does anything without a strategy.” He got into the lift.

Don’t I know it, she thought, then wondered: Was Tarkin admitting to knowing Palpatine’s abominable plot? Could he be in on it?

She was distracted from her thoughts by Barriss saying, “I have many things to attend to, Masters. Good day.” She bowed to Master Skywalker, then gave Ahsoka a significant look. “Ahsoka.”

Ahsoka shifted uncomfortably. After all this time, she still couldn’t read Barriss, didn’t know what that heavy gaze of affection and frustration and longing and hurt meant.

Ahsoka stared after her. Barriss really had been acting strange since she’d returned from the Rim. Ahsoka had nearly missed it amid all the revelations about Palpatine and the vod’e, but something was undeniably wrong.

“Go,” Anakin said gently, perhaps sensing it. “Be with your friend, Ahsoka.”

Ahsoka thanked him, then dashed after Barriss. “Company?” she tried.

“Sure,” Barriss said, but she barely looked at Ahsoka.

“Every time I think about this, I feel conflicted,” Ahsoka confessed. “It’s hard not to let feelings turn into attachment and pain.” She thought of Fives trusting her with his discovery, desperation in his eyes clear even through the ray shield. And of Rex, of the way that very truth had shattered something in him. She loved her men; she had watched their backs, and they had watched hers. They were her family.

“Ahsoka,” Barriss said, “have you ever wondered if it was right to ignore our emotions?”

Ahsoka tilted her head. The question was a familiar one: one she had asked the senior members of the Order many times, back when she had been sent to the battlefield and was forced to reconcile the horrors she witnessed with the precepts she’d been taught. After three harrowing years in the theater of war, she had realized only one Jedi’s philosophy truly made sense to her:

Carefully, she said, “My master would say, ‘Our struggle as Jedi is to move past them.’”

Barriss took that in, then chuckled dryly. “You make it sound so easy.”

“No,” Ahsoka protested, “it isn’t easy. But it’s possible.” She thought back to when they had first met. “Like, when we were stuck in the battle tank on Geonosis. It was hard not to be afraid. Still, you and I got past it. And I guess we’ll get past this.”

“You’ve always been capable of seeing things clearly,” Barriss said, a teasing lilt to her words for the first time since they’d been reunited.

Ahsoka laughed, something warm and effervescent fluttering in her stomach at the sight of Barriss’s expression, the fondness in her eyes. “I guess I fooled you like I have everyone else.”

They were interrupted by the beeping of her comm. Ahsoka paused to take the call. “Yes, Master Kenobi.”

“Ahsoka,” Master Kenobi said, “Have you left the Temple yet? The Council would like to speak with you.”

Ahsoka tilted her head, puzzled. She really hoped she wasn’t in trouble. “I’ll be there in a click, Master,” she promised, and the call disconnected.

She turned back to Barriss, who was watching her, something unfathomable in her eyes. “Look,” Ahsoka said, gesticulating. “I have to believe that one way or another, this woman’s going to pay for what she did.”

Strangely, Barriss seemed like she was about to cry. Ahsoka automatically reached out into the Force, hoping to comfort her. She was met with a swirling tide of guilt and resignation twisted with deep despair, underneath which lay a blazing passion she had never sensed in any Jedi other than Master Skywalker.

Barriss only faltered for a moment before she slammed her barriers down, her expression stony.

The fierce emotions dissipated, and Ahsoka reared back with a foreign feeling of loss. In the raging storm of Barriss’s mind, she had encountered something that called to her, something that enthralled the smoldering fury that had burned in her chest when Fives had told her about the biochips in the vod’e and the treachery of the so-called Chancellor.

But before she could comment on it, Barriss said coldly, “You shouldn’t keep your Master waiting.”

Ahsoka watched her go, crestfallen. Once, they had been as close as Padawans were allowed to be—sprawled out on each other’s bunks when their fleets were assigned to missions together and strolling through the Room of a Thousand Fountains whenever they were both back on Coruscant, talking about their adventures, their hopes and fears and dreams.

Something like disappointment made Ahsoka's throat tight. She couldn’t help thinking she had just botched something incredibly important.

Sighing, she did her best to release her regret and confusion into the Force. She shook her head and headed toward the High Council Chamber, barely noticing the droids and Jedi walking past her, returning to the duties the mass funeral had interrupted.

Barriss was definitely wrong: Ahsoka found moving past the emotions she felt so strongly anything but easy. She could disable a B1 platoon in under two minutes, but anger and worry and desire and sorrow always dogged her, too tenacious to be meditated away.

Still, she did her best to clear her mind before entering the Council Chamber. She’d do anything to avoid Master Yoda looking at her like he always looked at Master Skywalker, wary and unsettled, like he didn’t trust him to uphold the precepts of the Jedi Order. Ahsoka could never help bristling when she saw it. She had watched Master Skywalker win countless battles and save countless beings; he was a war hero and the bravest being she had ever met. He didn't deserve their suspicion.

“Good; you’re here,” Master Windu said when she entered the chamber. He was standing in the middle of the room, arms crossed, while the rest of the Council was sitting in their respective seats. Master Kenobi was deep in thought, stroking his beard.

Ahsoka bowed and greeted them: “Masters—how can I help you?”

After latemeal last night, Ahsoka, Rex, and Jesse had gathered in Rex’s quarters aboard the Resolute to discuss potential allies. They had gone through each of the commanders and marshal commanders to determine whom they should tell about the chips first—who would believe them when their only evidence was the word of a fugitive vod and an atomic brain scan. Rex had patiently provided his take on each of the officers, and had said Commander Fox was dutiful and forthright, but his law-abiding nature made him a poor candidate for their plans. He would need the testimony of the other commanders—Cody, Bly, and Bacara in particular—to be convinced.

Being led to Letta Turmond’s cell by the man himself, Ahsoka thought Rex’s analysis was right on. Even the congratulations he had offered her for the capture of the bombing suspect had been gruff.

Fox opened the cell door, and his men stepped into guard positions behind him, deeces at the ready. Ahsoka descended the stairs into the cell. The anger she had tried to keep at bay during the Council meeting resurfaced at the sight of Letta huddling on the stone bench, her eyes bloodshot and cheeks crusted with dried tear tracks.

“What do you want, Letta?” Ahsoka growled, footsteps heavy. Fox followed her down, remaining a few steps backs.

Letta fussed with her hat, speaking timidly, “I was told if I ever needed help, you were the Jedi to contact.” She spotted the Coruscant Guard over Ahsoka’s head and openly glared at them. Ahsoka grit her teeth, remembering the antiwar materials she had found in Letta’s apartment. How dare she...

But Letta had clamped her mouth shut, not taking her eyes off Fox and his boys.

Apologetically, Ahsoka glanced at Fox. “Give us a moment, please.”

He turned briefly to Letta, his silent threat clear, and then stepped back out of the cell. The door slid shut, transforming the lighting into something much eerier.

“You don’t have much time, Letta,” Ahsoka spat, “so I suggest you get whatever you have to say off your chest.”

Letta looked down at her knees. “The idea of feeding Jackar the nano-droids was not mine.”

Ahsoka narrowed her eyes. “Why are you saying this now? Why didn’t you reveal this before?”

“Because my life is in danger. The person behind this will be able to get to me unless you know the truth.”

Ahsoka scoffed. “What’s the truth?”

“A Jedi,” Letta said, standing up. Ahsoka’s heart dropped. “A Jedi showed me how to create a bomb, and how to put the nano-droids in.”

Ahsoka crossed her arms, skeptical. “Why would a Jedi do this?”

“There are some citizens of the Republic, like myself, who believe the Jedi Order is not what it used to be. The Jedi have become warmongers. They’ve between military weapons. And they’re killing when they should be keeping the peace. One of these Jedi agrees with us. One of you wanted to make a statement and was willing to attack your own order to do it.”

Ahsoka raised her brow ridges and crept closer. “Who?”

“If you protect me, I will tell you. Because it is obvious to me that I have been set up.”

Stonily, Ahsoka demanded, “Letta, you have to tell me who is behind this.”

“It’s—” Letta gasped and clutched her throat.

Ahsoka shouted her name, but Letta could only make terrible choking noises in response. Her body rose off the ground, her eyes wide and terrified—just like Jesse when they had been caught in the Medical Facility.

Palpatine.

Horrified, Ahsoka reached out for Letta’s arm like she had Jesse’s. She closed her eyes and tried to send a tide of light into her.

This time, she was met with a frigid wall that sent a powerful blast through her mind. She stumbled back, crying out, and collapsed to the ground.

Her mind raced. Why would Palpatine be involved this? Had he convinced Letta to bomb the Temple? Such an open attack seemed out of character for someone who had been plotting for so long. What was he hoping to gain?

Still clawing at her throat, Letta collapsed. The noises stopped.

When Jesse had been attacked, he had been out of it for nearly a day. But he had bounced back the next morning, weary and paranoid but still himself. Still breathing.

But when Ahsoka checked Letta’s pulse, it was gone. She froze, all those emotions she had tried to push away earlier flooding back into her. What was happening?

The door to the cell whooshed open, and she heard the telltale footsteps of vod’e entering the cell.

“I,” Ahsoka stammered, eyes wet as she knelt over Letta. She had wanted Letta to pay, to be punished for her heartless actions—but she hadn’t wished death on her. It looked like Palpatine had, though. But why?

Ahsoka looked up at Fox, forlorn. “I don’t know what happened.”

“Commander,” one of Fox’s men reported, “she’s dead.”

“I can’t say I blame you, Commander Tano,” Fox said, and Ahsoka’s stomach plummeted. “But all the same, you’re under arrest.”

“I—no, no, no,” she stammered. “I did not do this!”

Ahsoka didn’t have time to react before she was hit with several stun blasts. The world spun, and she was vaguely aware of binders being strapped to her wrists. Then everything went black.

When Ahsoka woke, it took her a moment to realize it hadn’t been a dream. She really was lying on the cold stone bench of a locked cell, accused of murdering the Temple bombing suspect. Her stomach churned at the thought. She finally understood why Palpatine would kill Letta: Now Ahsoka would be the primary suspect for two different heinous crimes. He must have recognized her when she had defended Jesse’s mind, and realized that she knew too much. He wanted her out of the picture—discredited, so that the Jedi Council would not believe her claims and the vod’e would be without her help in taking on a Sith.

Ahsoka pressed her fist against her chest to stem her shallow, panicked breaths.

She had to get out of here. Fives had worried for her safety countless times since the night she had rescued him, and she’d dismissed his concerns—but it seemed that he’d been right. This time, though, she couldn’t risk either him or Lux; they were too important to their plans.

The Guards had her comlink, so she couldn’t contact her master or Rex for help. They had her lightsabers, too, though she knew she wouldn’t be able to fight her way out regardless. The capture of a Jedi would necessitate the strongest, most ruthless guards, and Ahsoka wouldn’t be able to fight them with her full power because she couldn’t risk permanently hurting any of them.

Swallowing hard, she dragged her body upright and began to examine the cell. She startled when she spotted the keycard lying right outside the ray shield.

“Master, I knew you wouldn’t let me down,” she murmured to herself. The ray shield was tamperproof, but the key card wouldn’t be. Careful not to alert the guards of any movement, she levitated it carefully through the code reader. The console beeped, and the ray shield dissipated.

Ahsoka cheered inwardly, then snuck out of the cell block, marveling at the lack of guards. Had Master Skywalker persuaded them to forego their assignments?

She halted when she got to the lobby.

Oh no.

Several dead Guards littered the floor. Ahsoka recognized two of the kits as belonging to the vod’e who had guarded Letta’s cell. She peered around the room for their assailant and found it empty. But beside of the bodies were her lightsabers and her comlink.

She picked them up and inhaled sharply in realization. Someone had left them here, and the key card too. She had wanted to believe it was her master, with a plan to break her out, but this scene was too strange. Too convenient. She narrowed her eyes in suspicion, thinking quickly.

Fives had been set up and targeted for elimination. He might have died, had Ahsoka not gotten to him in time, the truths he spoke corrupted by Nala Se’s drug and Palpatine’s cry for help.

Ahsoka swallowed. She had tried to fight off Palpatine just the other day, pushing him from Jesse’s mind and the fatal grasp of his invisible hand. The presence she had sensed then, just like the one she had sensed through Letta, had seemed grotesquely decayed, and the impression of his sour yellow eyes and vile, rotting grin remained with her despite the time that had passed. It had undoubtedly been Palpatine. He had wanted her to know it was him, wanted her to know that there was nothing she could do to stop him, even if she had discovered his macabre plot.

And now he was setting her up, too, to be disgraced and discredited. She gulped for air, terror striking her heart at the idea of being personally targeted by someone she was now fairly certain had to be a Sith Master.

Had the bombing been his doing? Did he intend for her to take the fall? What would the Jedi Order do? Would they believe her over the Supreme Chancellor of the Galactic Republic? Would the Council of Reassignment take her from the battlefield and send her to what remained of the Service Corps? Or would she be—her breath hitched, throat tight—expelled from the Order?

She clutched her lightsabers, panic clawing at her throat. Unfortunately, she knew the answer. The Council would think she had been infected with Tup’s “virus” or that she’d gone mad, traumatized by the war. Even her master was unlikely to believe her, given how close he was with Palpatine and how fiercely he loved his friends. Though it hurt to admit, Ahsoka knew she wouldn’t be able to count on him for this.

So she did the only thing she could in that moment:

She ran.

Chapter Text

“No matter what, we are united. Rule one: We fight together.”
—Commander Colt

Smiling foolishly at the holobook in his hands, Cody was suddenly grateful for the privacy of his small cabin. At 1100 he had returned to his quarters for his sleep shift after a long day overseeing repairs and found the collection of poetry in a thin package under his pillow, just as he had all the other holobooks over the past year. There was always a specific poem innocuously marked:

Come to me, beloved,
fairest of all the stars.
Allow this warrior
to surrender her weary bones.
My heart is yours to carry,
My crest yours to bear.
Let us endure all things together.

—Ko-Ran Eldar

He read the poem again, the tender, longing words making him flush. He committed them to memory as he had all the others.

The sender never provided his name, but he didn’t need to. A seal on each holobook declared them to be property of the library in the Jedi Temple, and there was only one Jedi who had the means to convince the 212th's quartermasters to regularly drop off nonregulation packages in Cody’s quarters.

He and General Kenobi had been dancing around their feelings for each other for over two years now. They had never spoken of it, other than the time after the Battle of Lannik when Cody had awakened in the Negotiator’s medbay to find the General clinging to his hand, pale and trembling, as he transferred Force energy into him; he had rescued Cody from the brink of death. When Cody demanded he stop and rest, General Kenobi had murmured, eyes hazy, “I can’t lose you, Cody. I can’t do this without you. Please. Don’t go.”

Later, Whys had told him that the General had stayed at his side for two days, refusing to rest or be pried away until Cody awakened. Cody’s vision had blurred, thinking of all the words they never let themselves say, all the feelings he had buried deep to avoid violating the regs and being taken away for reconditioning.

But this offering was particularly special for another reason: It was the first one since General Kenobi had returned from Mandalore nearly two months ago. That day, Cody had met him in the hangar bay, where his borrowed ship had landed, and had nearly startled out of stiff attention at the sight of the General emerging from the sleek vessel, hollow eyed and ashen faced, back bowed from its ordinarily regal position. In place of his Jedi robes had been real beskar’gam, Iron Heart and all, in a poorly painted red; despite it, he had looked frail, as if he might collapse at any moment.

Most worrying of all, he’d been quiet, his greeting barely more than a murmur as he stared at the ground as if it held all the answers to the universe. After that, he hadn’t looked Cody in the eye for weeks. Cody had stopped taking it personally once he got his hands on the heavily redacted mission reports and dug through the HoloNet for what had been left out.

The Duchess of Mandalore, whom General Kenobi had so obviously loved since he was a shiny, had been assassinated in her own throne room. No eyewitnesses had spoken to any official sources, but it hadn’t been difficult to read between the lines. Cody inferred that Death Watch had killed her, dishonorably, and the General, who had broken both Jedi and GAR regulations by going to the Duchess’s aid, had not been able to save her.

Cody had pushed away his own mess of emotions about the Duchess and focused instead on doing General Kenobi’s GAR paperwork and covering for him in long, dull meetings. He brought the General trays of rations from the mess and left them at the door of his office, and let the officers in the 7th Sky Corps know that, for the time being, they should contact him regarding anything they normally reached out to the General for.

Cody understood from the way General Kenobi had held him at arms’ length since he’d returned that the warmth that had been simmering between them was being cut off. For three days, he had lain awake in bed after his shift, mourning the loss of the potential they had never addressed or explored. On the fourth morning, he had resolved to put it aside, to muster his courage and be as professional as he was trained to be. After all, there was a war to fight.

But tonight he had found this gift on his bed, the words tender as always, seeming to be something of an apology.

Cody looked down at the book again. My heart is yours to carry. He swallowed thickly and pictured the General’s crisp voice calling his name, of the way his hand always lingered on Cody’s shoulder, of the sharp whirl of his lightsaber and the way his flexible body danced across battlefields, beautiful and dangerous.

His ruminations were interrupted by the chirp of his comlink. “Commander, you told me to let you know when the General returned from the surface,” came Crys’s voice.

Blushing even though no one could see him, Cody immediately shut the book off. “Thanks, Crys,” he said. “On my way.”

He slid off the bed and donned his armor, the familiar ritual soothing, then made his way to the top of the ship.

The brothers working the bridge snapped to attention as he moved through the room. General Kenobi stood before the viewscreen, hands folded behind his back, the endless expanse of space before him. Anyone else might have assumed his expression was placid, but Cody knew him too well to miss the downward slope of his eyes and the way he was clutching his wrists.

Cody rushed over. “General, you’re back,” he greeted. “We’ve heard all sorts of strange rumors. What happened down there, sir?”

General Kenobi hesitated briefly, then turned to Cody. Their gazes met for the first time in what felt like years, and Cody inhaled sharply at the irresistible lure of his bright eyes.

“Earlier today, Ahsoka was detained by the Coruscant Guard for the murder of the primary suspect in the Temple attack case,” he said quietly. “Now she’s our primary suspect for the bombing.”

Cody stared at him, reeling from the nonsensical information. So what he had deemed outrageous rumors hadn’t been very far from the truth.

“I know,” the General said, rubbing his beard. “I can hardly believe it myself. I was with her just yesterday, pursuing whom I thought was the suspect. But I saw Commander Fox’s security footage firsthand.”

“But, sir, that doesn’t make any sense,” Cody said, keeping his voice low as well. “Commander Tano has fought by our side in hundreds of battles. She’s one of Rex’s best friends. Why would she attack the Temple? Didn’t she grow up there?”

“War can change a being,” General Kenobi said, then lowered his voice even further. “And it wouldn’t be the first time a Jedi got a bit too curious about the Dark side of the Force.”

Cody startled. “What do you mean, sir?”

Silently, General Kenobi turned toward the exit and beckoned him to follow. Cody obeyed, a part of him lit up despite the terrible news. After all the time the General had been avoiding him, his presence, his closeness, suddenly felt blindingly bright, hot like the core of a sun, and Cody couldn’t help but bask in it.

They didn’t speak until they had entered General Kenobi’s quarters and the door had slid shut behind them, and even then he kept his voice down: “I encountered Ahsoka in the library a few days ago, researching the history of the Sith and the abilities of Dark side users. And within the week she’s arrested for killing a witness by choking them with the Force? I don’t want to believe it either, but I have to admit it seems suspicious.”

Cody shook his head. “You think she’s working with the Separatists, sir?”

“I don’t know,” General Kenobi said. “But Master Yoda warned the Council that if it was a Jedi who bombed the Temple, then they must have gone to the Dark side. And those who have fallen in recent years have seemed to flock to the CIS.” He sighed, crossing his arms. “Ahsoka has always been a free thinker, and, like her master, has always had struggled with parts of the Jedi Code.”

“Sure,” Cody said, “but—with all due respect—haven’t you as well, sir? And pardon the assumption, but to me you seem as light as they come.”

General Kenobi pinkened. “If only it were that simple.” But he uncrossed his arms and moved toward the thermakettle on his small desk. “Tea?”

“Yes, please,” Cody said, and sat on the small armchair in the corner at the General’s invitation. “Thank you, sir.” The sweet, floral fragrance of Chandrilan tea wafted through the cabin, its familiarity relaxing Cody into the coarse fabric of the chair.

General Kenobi brought him a cup and saucer, then perched on his bed with his own.

He spoke after a moment, “Did you know Ahsoka was originally intended to be my Padawan? It was I who chose her.” He sipped the too hot tea. “So I can’t help but feel responsible. If she was led astray because I wasn’t there for her, I...”

Cody hated hearing the General blame himself. “She’s not a cadet anymore, sir,” Cody said. “She's a commander, and she's led her men in hundreds of battles. You and I both know well how that can affect someone. If she really turned, it probably has more to do with having to grow up on the battlefield than with whether or not you ended up as her master, sir. You’re not to blame for her actions, her choices. Whatever they may be.”

General Kenobi stared down at his cup, then smiled, a tiny, fragile thing. He looked up at Cody through his eyelashes and said, sincerely, “You always know how to make me feel better, Commander.”

Cody flushed, pleased. He was about to respond when their comlinks buzzed simultaneously.

“Alert!” came Fox’s voice through the Coruscant all-hands alarm, the shrieking echo of their dual comms like sporks against durasteel. Cody stood up immediately, bracing himself for his brother’s next words. “Alert! Code red: The Jedi prisoner has escaped and killed four clones. I repeat, the Jedi prisoner has escaped and killed four clones. If you see the target, shoot to kill!”

General Kenobi got up as well, placing his cup and saucer on his desk with a clink.

His face was carefully blank. “It never stops, does it,” he said wryly, and hit the cabin’s keypad. He took off running the moment the door slid open. Cody heaved a sigh, then raced after him, dread burning a hole in his stomach. He had a very bad feeling about this.

Rex and General Skywalker were in a meeting with Bacara and General Mundi on board the Reverence, in low orbit, going over battle plans for the Outer Rim Sieges, when the planetwide alarms for an escaped prisoner went off.

In no time, they were in the General’s airspeeder, hurtling toward the prison complex. That was when he received Commander Tano’s ping on one of the private encrypted frequencies Jesse had set up for them. Glancing furtively at General Skywalker, Rex adjusted his comlink to take the call in-helmet.

“They’ve got me!” the Commander burst out the moment the connection went live. “Palpatine is setting me up for the murder of the witness and the vod’e. But it’s not me, I swear!”

Rex’s heart rate skyrocketed. They had discussed dozens of contingency measures, but he had foolishly thought they would have more time before they were discovered. If the Commander was being framed and was on the run, that meant the Chancellor knew she was onto him. They would have to move quickly. Thank the brothers afar that Kix had already removed their chips.

“I believe you, sir,” he said, keeping the call in-helmet and continuing to eye the General Skywalker cautiously. He knew the General wouldn’t believe his Padawan had killed the bombing suspect, but it was hard to read him when he was worked up like this, volatile and angry and scared, the air crackling around him.

“What’s your position?” Rex added.

“In the prison, running from Fox," Commander Tano said, panting. "He thinks I killed his men!”

The airspeeder screeched to a halt before the prison complex, and Rex leapt out of the vehicle and into the building, right behind General Skywalker.

“Hold on, Commander. I’m with the General, and we’re in pursuit. You’ve got to get out of there.”

She thanked him and hung up. Rex and the General followed the sound of blaster fire into a corridor where Fox was kneeling beside fallen Coruscant Guards and speaking into a comm. “The suspect has killed three more clones. I want her dead or alive!”

“Belay that order, Commander Fox,” Anakin barked.

“She’s killed troopers!” Fox protested.

Rex glanced at General Skywalker again, then at Fox and their surroundings, his brain working in overdrive. But he couldn’t risk making a move now and being arrested by Fox; execution, if not reconditioning, would surely follow. He could maybe knock Fox out if he tried hard enough, but he couldn’t count on the General to cover for him. Commander Tano had cautioned them against telling him too much, fearful of his longtime friendship with the Chancellor ruining their plans.

“I know Commander Tano,” Rex said, stalling. “She would never do something like this.”

“Then who did?” Fox snarled.

Rex bristled; Fox didn’t know the Commander—he hadn’t held her as she cried when she lost squads or found comfort in her company when the nightmares got to be too much, and he hadn’t spent zero-hundred patrols with her, being asked questions about individual preferences that none of the vod’e had ever considered. My favorite color is blue, Rex had decided later. And if I could live on any planet, I would choose Saleucami.

It wasn’t Fox’s fault. But Rex still wanted to slug him for accusing Commander Tano of murdering brothers, when she loved and appreciated them more than any other Jedi in the Grand Army, had learned their language and honored their ways; had agreed to risk everything to help them.

“Quiet!” General Skywalker snapped, shoving past them to look up at the ventilation ducts and shout, “Ahsoka! It’s me, Anakin. Stop running.”

Commander Tano’s voice came through the vents. “You can’t help me, Master,” she said, panting. “Someone’s setting me up.”

“I believe you, Ahsoka,” the General said, and Rex allowed himself a modicum of relief. At least he wouldn’t have to fight him about this. And maybe there was a chance that he would understand what Rex was going to have to do tonight.

“But no one else will,” the Commander said, her voice colored by hurt and fear. Rex’s heart twinged in sympathy as he glanced around the corridor, running through potential plans in his head. I do, he thought. I’ll always have your back.

“Keep searching until we find her,” General Skywalker ordered. “Rex, call security. Tell them we need to search the entire base. Now!”

Uneasily, Rex activated his comlink, covertly adding Fives, Jesse, and Kix to the transmission. They would know to get ready, and that they couldn’t trust anyone else for the time being. “General Skywalker has just issued an all-points bulletin on Commander Ahsoka Tano.” He glanced uneasily at Fox, who was glaring at him. His heart sank. “She’s killed...three clones and should be considered armed and dangerous.”

After a moment, Fives responded on their encrypted line, “Copy, Captain. Initiating Plan Aurek-Dorn.”

Rex followed Fox out of the complex, terror creeping in as they were joined by stray Guards who had received his message, their weapons at the ready.

Rex contacted Commander Tano, taking the call in-helmet again. “What’s your position, sir?” he asked urgently.

“Heading out of the prison and toward the industrial pipeline,” she reported. “I’m at the memorial right now and just escaped two squads of Guards.”

“I’m with Fox, right behind you, and I don't think these brothers have their blasters on stun lock," Rex said. "Lose us as best you can, for now. The rest of our team is mobilizing.”

Rain splashed his helmet when they exited the prison complex and entered open air. Rex ignored it to keep abreast General Skywalker and Fox. He let his legs do the work as the gears in his brain attempted to plot amid his sheer panic. It was all happening much too quickly.

“Do not shoot to kill!” the General was yelling into his comlink as the storm pounded down on them. Rex followed him onto a gunship, and the takeoff was quick and jerky. “Do not shoot to kill! Try to box her in. Do not let her escape! Tell me what you see, Odd Ball.”

Swaying with the ship, Rex couldn’t help worrying that if just one Guard didn’t heed the General’s words and got in a lucky shot, they would lose their beloved vod’ika—not to mention a vital link in exposing the conspiracy.

He could only pray that they would be quick enough to divert the Guard and outrun the 501st.

Their future—the future of all the Jedi, of all his brothers—depended on it.

Finished with his latemeal rounds, Kix slumped into his office chair and scrubbed at his face. His heart was heavy. Earlier, while he’d been giving Aero his daily nutrient injections, he had received Rex’s emergency transmission. Plan Aurek-Dorn was the fourth of the ones they had drafted, and it meant that Fives had probably already acquired a ship and left the Senate District. Kix and Jesse were to meet him at the Galactic City undercity portal shortly...

...Which meant Kix was supposed to be gathering his things—the travel bag of medical supplies he had packed, the small sack of his belongings, and as many droid poppers and detonators as he had been able to sneak out of the armory.

But, after much troubled deliberation, he had ultimately made a different decision.

And Jesse was going to kill him.

Said man was punching his keycode into Kix’s office, the beeps audible through the thin door. It slid open, revealing Jesse in his kit and a cloak Commander Tano had gotten him; his bucket was in his arm and an unmarked travel bag slung over his shoulder. He hurried in and closed the door.

“It’s time,” he announced. Kix winced and stood, nervous.

Jesse halted, tilting his head at Kix, then scanned the rest of the office. “Kix?” he said, confusion and betrayal creeping into his voice. “Why don’t you have your go bag? Didn’t you hear the Captain’s transmission?”

“I did,” Kix said, his chest tight. He sighed, closing his eyes. “But I can’t go with you.”

Jesse stalked closer, glaring. “What do you mean you can’t?”

Kix closed his eyes. “I have to remain here, cyar’ika,” he said, as gently as he could. “I have to extract the chips from the rest of the 501st, and I have to warn the other medics about what we’ve discovered.”

“But that wasn’t the plan!”

“Of course it was,” Kix said, trying to stay rational despite the lump in his throat. “I was just too stubborn to admit it. Our brothers need me. This is how I can help them—and how I can best support the three of you.”

Jesse faltered, anger seeping out of his expression. He set down his bag and clutched Kix’s biceps like he was five instead of eleven, eyes wet. “Then maybe I can stay here, too—”

“They need you,” Kix interjected, his heart wrenching at the idea of having to push Jesse away for the first time since they’d met. “Where they’re going, they’re going to need your skills. And if they don’t succeed—”

“Yeah,” Jesse conceded, pressing his head to Kix’s shoulder. “But—” He bit his wobbling lip, blinking back tears, and didn’t finish his sentence.

“I know, Jess,” Kix replied, wrapping his arms around Jesse’s waist. “I’m sorry. But we have to do this.”

Jesse pressed closer, pulling him into a proper embrace, though his body shook as he did so. Kix squeezed him tighter, burying his face in Jesse’s neck and trying to memorize the comforting scent of him, the soft warmth of the sliver of skin, the feeling of him in Kix’s arms, sturdy and hale.

Their comlinks pinged, and Kix glanced at his wrist. Status update? it read.

“You should go,” he said reluctantly.

“Okay,” Jesse said, though he didn’t let go. “I love you, Kix’ika.” He brushed his stubble against Kix’s cheek and pressed their foreheads together.

“Love you, too,” Kix replied, tender emotion welling up in his chest. “Till the March takes us.”

“Till the March takes us,” Jesse echoed, then kissed him deeply. “Be careful, all right?” he murmured.

“You, too,” Kix said. “Come back to me safely.”

Jesse nodded, swiping at his face with the back of his gauntlet, and turned toward the door. Kix walked him out and watched him proceed down the corridor. Halfway to the turbolift, Jesse turned around and waved at him. The lighthearted gesture made Kix huff a laugh, his eyes watering. He waved back and felt as if a part of himself were leaving with Jesse.

He inhaled shakily. They had no other choice. And Jesse was going with Commander Tano and Rex and Fives—they would watch his back. There weren't any beings Kix would trust more to take care of his riduur. And yet.

When Jesse disappeared out of view, Kix returned to his office, the familiar room suddenly seeming so much colder, more impersonal. Bowing his head, he sent a prayer to the brothers afar, begging them to keep Jesse and the team safe.

Then he sat at his desk and pulled up the spreadsheet he’d started working on while waiting for Jesse and Rex to awaken after he’d removed their chips. Pushing his anguish away, he focused on the datapad, and began to sort the GAR medics into categories.

Coruscant’s industrial pipeline was a vast labyrinth weaving around and beneath the planet’s thousands of levels. Chemical runoff mixed with garbage and old water, producing a horrid stench that Rex knew he would be smelling for days after this visit.

Heart pounding, he followed at General Skywalker’s heels as he pursued Commander Tano down the endless pipes, entreating her to stop and talk to him. Behind them thundered nearly a full platoon of Guards, ready to shoot the traitor who had killed their brothers.

But Rex wouldn’t let them. He would do anything within his power to protect his commander. But he prayed to the brothers afar that it wouldn’t come to that.

Though Commander Tano kept disappearing farther into the tunnels, the General remained right behind her, unfazed by her attempts at diversion. Rex swore internally as they traversed the pipes, going by whatever the General was sensing in the Force. He sent a query to the encrypted channel. Status update?

There was no immediate response.

While Rex was waiting for the report, General Skywalker cornered Commander Tano at the end of a pipe that led to the undercity portal, and they began yelling at each other. Rex had witnessed that frequently enough, but usually it was on the bridge of a ship or in a medbay.

“Listen,” the General demanded. “I would never let anyone hurt you, Ahsoka. Never! But you need to come back and make your case to the Council.”

Rex hovered behind the General, nervous, his hands going to his pistols automatically; their familiarity soothed him. He had already set them to stun earlier, but he was still loath to shoot the General or any of his brothers.

“No,” the Commander spat. “I’m not going to take the fall for something I didn’t do!” Her face was twisted in anger.

General Skywalker’s face darkened, and he stood to his full height, the aggressive stance familiar to Rex—but usually they were on the other side of it. Impatiently, he bellowed, “I am ordering you put down your lightsabers and come with me. Now!”

When Commander Tano still refused, turning to jump into the portal, the General held his arm out, and the Commander’s body tensed, her limbs frozen at a strange angle.

“Anakin!” Commander Tano shouted, furious. “Let me go!”

Rex lifted his pistols, aiming them at the Commander to play his part, though it was the General he would really be going for. Rex wasn’t even sure what the General was doing, how he was physically holding her back. Worried, he made eye contact with Commander Tano, his fingers forming the vod’e battlefield sign for Now? around the blaster. The Commander had begged them to teach her the gestures when she first began serving with the 501st.

She read them well now. “No! Rex!” she shouted. “Don’t!”

Rex took that as his answer and kept the pistols trained on her. He looked to General Skywalker for their next move.

“We’re going,” General Skywalker bit out, his expression tight and angry.

“Wait!” Commander Tano cried. “Master!”

The General closed his hand into a fist, and the Commander crumpled, falling unconscious.

Rex rushed forward to catch her, but General Skywalker beat him to it. He confiscated her lightsabers and hoisted her into his arms, then began retracing their steps out of the pipeline.

Anxiously, Rex followed him, keeping his blasters unholstered and his eye on Fox and his men, who joined them on their way out.

That was when the response on the encrypted line finally came. The sender’s identity was scrambled, but Rex knew it had to be Fives. Transport acquired. Position?

Rex transmitted his coordinates and switched on his tracking beacon, disguising the movement as an effort to scratch his collar. Captured by enemy. Need retrieval ASAP.

Copy, Fives responded, then the line went silent.

Odd Ball landed the gunship he had commandeered, and they all piled into the back. While General Skywalker holocalled the Jedi Council, the ship took off, and Fox pressed Commander Tano to the ground on her knees in a standard regulation hold, keeping her down with a firm hand on her shoulder.

This wasn’t quite the situation they had planned for, but Rex had become an expert at improvisation over the course of the war. He shouldered past the Guards, feigning his delight in finally capturing the suspect. He mirrored Fox’s position on Commander Tano's other side, hand on her shoulder.

“Captured, she has been?” General Yoda was asking via the holoprojector at the front of the passenger cabin.

“Yes, Master Yoda,” General Skywalker reported.

“Without incident?”

“Yes,” General Skywalker said, facing the holo, “but I think there’s more going on than we know.”

Rex took advantage of both his distraction and his position to squeeze Commander Tano’s shoulder tightly—tightly enough that she awoke, shifting infinitesimally. Before she could react and alert Fox to her consciousness, he squeezed her shoulder again and then tapped the fingers of his left hand on her back, one after the other: Countdown.

“By Ahsoka, or against her?” General Windu wondered.

Commander Tano froze at his message and General Windu’s words but kept her eyes closed, pretending to still be out. Rex glanced at the other Jedi and the Guards, then back down at the Commander, doing his best to hide his anxiety. He hoped she would be ready to move on his signal.

Careful not to catch the attention of the Guards around him, he tapped the symbol for seven on her back.

Six.

“We’ll have to find out,” Skywalker was saying. “I’m bringing her back to the Temple.”

Five. Four.

Not a chance, Rex thought protectively. Loyalty meant everything to him and his brothers, but it seemed shockingly lacking from the Jedi they served. Neither High General had seemed to bat an eye at the idea that Commander Tano would bomb the Temple, throwing away everything she had ever learned.

Three.

“Let’s just hope we can keep her here,” General Windu replied.

Not on your life.

Two.

One.

Rex donned his helmet, then wrenched Commander Tano out of Fox’s grip. At the same time, she swept her left foot out and drop-kicked him.

Then she grabbed Rex’s wrist.

A second later, they were falling backward out of the gunship, Rex kept afloat solely by the Commander’s Force abilities. He yelped the whole way, flailing uselessly.

They landed on the roof of an air shuttle, the Commander gracefully and Rex with a painful thud. He grunted at the impact, rolling his shoulders, then looked up at the gunship they had dropped down from. They were too far down for blaster bolts to reach now.

Rex couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of him as some tension immediately seeped out of him. “Good ol’ Fives,” he shouted, slapping the ship beneath him.

Commander Tano was grinning, too, despite their desperate situation. The maintenance hatch on the top of the small ship creaked open, and there was Jesse, looking simultaneously relieved and terrified.

“You made it, sirs! Come on! Hurry,” he shouted over the roar of the gunship blades.

Rex and Commander Tano clambered in, falling to the floor of the ship, and in unison they sighed in relief.

“Nice catch,” the Commander said, getting to her feet and looking around the ship. It was a humble shuttle, clearly modified for hyperspace travel, with mismatched foldout beds and seats attached to the aft walls. “And nice ship.”

“Don’t get too attached, sir,” Fives said from the pilot’s seat. “We’re ditching it for another ride.”

Commander Tano looked around, markings furrowed. “Where’s Kix?”

Jesse’s face creased in anger. “The di’kut decided to stay! Says he’s going to dechip the 501st while we complete our mission.”

Rex laid a hand on Jesse’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, vod. You have to admit that make sense, though.”

Jesse crossed his arms. “Yeah, it does make sense,” he said bitterly. “And it’s going to get him killed.”

“We won’t let them,” Commander Tano promised. “We’ll get him out when it’s time. But, for now, he can do more good in the 501st.”

Jesse bowed his head, huffing in annoyance. “Fine,” he grumbled. “But we have to keep in contact with him, sir. Somehow. I need to know he’s okay, or I—I won’t be able to do this.”

“We will, I swear,” Rex said. “You can set up an encrypted channel for him to use.”

“Okay,” Jesse said. He sighed and repeated, quieter, “Okay.”

Rex’s comlink pinged—it was General Skywalker, sounding apoplectic. “Rex, what’s going on?” he demanded. “Why did you help Ahsoka escape?

Everyone else in the ship looked at Rex, alarmed. He thought quickly.

“I’m sorry, General,” Rex said. “But the Commander is not guilty. I have reason to believe she’s being framed. I’m determined to keep her safe until the truth comes out.”

“This is highly unorthodox,” Anakin said, skeptical.

“Don’t worry, sir,” Rex said lightly. “I learned from the best.”

General Skywalker wasn't in the mood for ribbing. “But by helping her escape, you’re making her seem even guiltier! How is that supposed to help?”

Rex glanced at the Commander, who drew a line across her neck. “I have to go. We’ll talk soon, General.”

He hung up his end of the comm just in time for Fives to shout, “Hey, uh, guys? Our ship is ready, but the shipyard is crawling with Guards. We’re going to have to move quickly. Get ready!”

The ship crashed onto the landing platform of one of the upper levels, sparks flying as it skittered to a stop. They leaped out of the smoking vessel, blasters at the ready. Rex took point, with Fives at the rear.

“Hey, it’s them!” a Coruscant Guard yelled, and his squad began running toward them.

“I really hope those boys have their guns on stun,” Jesse said.

“There, the blue one—that’s our ship,” Fives shouted.

They dashed for the ship, this one even less flashy, its hull painted with only two cyan stripes across the hull. There was a dent on its side, and blaster burns on the nose. The inside was smaller than a light freighter but large enough that Rex guessed it included at least one set of bunks.

“Hey, where’d the Commander go?” Jesse asked.

Rex looked around the hangar. Commander Tano had ended up before the squad of Guards, her hand outstretched.

“Sir, what are you doing?” Fives yelled.

“You don’t want to shoot at us,” the Commander said, waving her right hand before of the Guards’ faces. “You want to forget we were here and which ship we took. You want to end your shift early.”

“We don’t want to shoot at you,” the Guards repeated in eerie unison, their blasters drooping in their hands. “We want to forget you were here and which ship you took. We want to end our shift early.”

Commander Tano nodded, then took off toward the ship’s ramp as the Guards turned around and marched out the door.

“And that’s why you always take a Jedi with you when you’re committing treason,” Jesse said wryly. He shut the ramp the moment the Commander jumped on board. “We’re ready, Fives!”

“Good,” Fives said. The ship was already lifting off. “Commander, despite your work down there, I expect we’re going to be pursued, so we could use your help on the aft gunner.”

They emerged from the undercity, soaring up into the sky. The sun was just peeking over the horizon from behind a row of skyscrapers, painting the landscape orange and purple. Because of the early hour, the airways were less congested than usual, though Coruscant roads were never empty. Fives wove into a military lane, cutting recklessly in front of shuttles and supply freighters.

“I’ll take the nose gun,” Rex said. “Jesse, you stay up here with Fives and handle navigation.”

“Yes, sir!”

He slunk into the gap that led to the nose gun room, located under the cockpit, and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that the controls were in the Republic format. At least he wouldn’t have to learn a whole new system while trying to escape the strongest military force in the galaxy.

“So whose ship is this?” the Commander asked casually over the ship comms.

“Your friend Bonteri’s, of course,” Fives said.

Commander Tano laughed. “You two must have really hit it off if he let you borrow a ship with guns.”

“Eh, I’m pretty sure he has an Onderonian armada scattered in various parts of Galactic City, just waiting for the moment all hell breaks loose on Coruscant.”

Commander Tano snorted and muttered, “Never change, Lux.”

“On our six!” Rex shouted, and the Commander quickly took care of the ship that was on their tail, careful not to cause it to crash.

“I hope those vod’e will forgive us,” she said.

“They’ll understand once we explain what we’re doing,” Rex assured her, trying not to consider how long that might be, how long he might be away from the battlefield, from defending his men. Three other ships came after them, and they disabled them as quickly and effectively as they could. They were all veterans at this point, and Rex was pleased at how well they worked in sync.

But he didn’t breathe freely until they entered the dark of space and docked in a civilian hyperspace ring. Fives and Jesse calculated a sprawling set of jumps to lose anyone who might keep trying to tail them.

“Fives, are we sure this vessel is clean?” Rex asked. “Have we triple-swept for trackers?”

“According to Bonteri, yes,” Fives confirmed, hand on the jump lever.

“Okay, Lux,” Commander Tano muttered. “I really hope you pulled through this time.”

With a rattle, Fives pulled the ship into a hyperspace lane, and the stars began streaking into long stripes. The rumbling and rattling of the ship’s hyperspace engines were strangely comforting, and Rex instantly felt his heart rate level out to something more normal.

Up in the cockpit, Fives and Jesse whooped, slapping each other on the back, and the Commander could be heard cheering over the comms. Rex leaned back in his seat and folded his arms behind his head, the exultant noise relaxing his tense muscles, reminding him of his cadet days, shooting sims and being congratulated by his brothers for his accuracy, and of rowdy living in crowded bunks, surrounded on all sides by the beings he loved, by what he hadn’t realized at the time were his people. He stared out at the hyperspace field and exhaled.

They had made it this far. And this tiny success made the rest of their self-ordained mission to save the vod’e, the Jedi, and the Republic feel that much more plausible.

Rex would take it, and he would gladly celebrate their victory. Now that they were officially on their own, they'd need all the luck they could get.

Chapter Text

“I have a duty, you're right—but it's to my family.”
—Cut Lawquane

They docked the ship in orbit over a moon of Ralltiir to plot their next move and pass around ration bars. Fives slumped onto the cockpit floor, his head back against the durasteel wall. The adrenaline had drained out of his system, leaving him groggy and exhausted. Beside him, Jesse didn’t look much better, his legs crossed over Fives’s and eyes seeing something far away; his half-nibbled ration bar lay forgotten on his thigh. Rex sat above them in the copilot seat, a complicated expression on his face, tapping a clumsy rhythm against his bucket.

Commander Tano cleared her throat, and they all looked up at where she was perched on the pilot’s chair, leaning her chin on her crooked knee as she ate.

“Thank you all for being here—for risking everything to get me out.”

“Of course, sir,” Rex said. “You’re our vod’ika.”

“Thank you, Commander,” Fives added. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

“‘No brother left behind,’” Jesse recited. “So, Commander—what’s our next move?”

Commander Tano pursed her lips. “We need to lie low, go somewhere they won’t be looking for us. Any ideas?”

They all thought for a moment, only the steady hum of the ship filling the silence. Fives had no idea—every planet, moon, and space station he’d ever visited had been for a battle or for refueling to travel to the next battle.

“I know a place,” Rex said suddenly. He turned to Jesse. “Remember that time I got shot and you left me on a farm?”

Jesse tilted his head. “Saleucami, right?”

“Right,” Rex said. “I met someone there—a friend. I think he’d be willing to help us out—at least for a little bit.” He smiled at something none of them could see.

“Are you sure he can be trusted?” Fives asked.

“I’m sure,” Rex said. “He’s no fan of the Republic, I can tell you that.”

“Oh, great—another Seppie,” Fives groaned.

Commander Tano nudged him. “Come on, Lux wasn’t so bad, was he?”

“This man is no Seppie,” Rex promised. “And I’d trust him with my life.”

“If the Captain trusts him, I trust him,” Jesse said.

Fives relented, nodding. “In that case, we should lay low until the 501st gets shipped out again. I don't think the Guards will pursue us past the Mid Rim.”

“All right then,” Commander Tano said, sliding back into the pilot seat and powering up the ship. “Saleucami it is.”

Jesse found the tranquility of Saleucami bizarre after the chaos on Coruscant. The sun was just rising when they landed, the sky streaked in turquoise and gold. Birds were chirping, and in the distance something crowed.

They parked the ship at the edge of the wetlands and walked the rest of the way to the farm. There, a familiar-looking Twi’lek was letting eopies out of the stable, a bucket swinging in her hand. The tune she was humming came to an abrupt stop at the sight of them hovering at the edge of the crops on her property, and in an impressively fast move, she reached for her blaster rifle.

Then her eyes widened. “Captain Rex!” she exclaimed.

With his bucket in the crook of his arm, Rex stood at attention and saluted her, warmth filling his voice: “Hello, Suu. I’m sorry to bother you again, but my friends and I need help.”

“You saved my children,” Suu said. “Anything within my power to give you will be yours.”

“Thank you,” Rex said. “Cut?”

“He’s inside.” She let them through the trap and led them to the entrance of the hut, which Jesse hadn’t had the chance to enter last time.

A man also carrying a blaster rifle opened the door as they followed her—no, Jesse realized, not just any man: a brother. He, Fives, and Commander Tano turned to Rex in surprise. At no point had he mentioned any vod’e.

“Rex? What are you doing here?” The vod had long hair, gathered at the back of his neck, and his skin was weathered from extended sun exposure. But he was definitely a brother, his eyes amber like theirs and skin the same coppery shade.

“Last time we spoke, I told you about my family,” Rex said. “Well, here are some of them now: Commander Tano, Lieutenant Jesse, and ARC Corporal Fives."

“It’s an honor to meet you,” Cut said. “Any friend of Rex’s is a friend of mine."

Rex smiled. “Thanks, Cut. Can we come inside?"”

Cut ushered them into the house, checking their surroundings with his macrobinoculars before he shut the door behind them.

At Suu and Cut’s urging, they settled around the large kitchen table. Cut began rummaging through the fridge, and Suu filled a thermakettle with water from the tap.

“So what brings you to this part of the galaxy?” Cut asked, a jar of small eggs in one hand and a few colorful oblong fruits in the other.

Rex explained their plight as Cut and Suu moved seamlessly around the kitchen, preparing a modest meal for them. They turned down the offers for help, so Jesse sat back and contributed to Rex’s story where appropriate.

“So you’re telling me I have one of these chips in my head, too?” Cut said, dropping the eggs into the poaching liquid. Beside that was a pot of rice being simmered with fragrant pieces of bark and jagged leaves plucked from a short plant beside the kitchen sink. “That the Chancellor could turn it on at any moment and take my free will away?”

Jesse knew he must be thinking of his wife and the life had he built here. Cut had clearly been on Saleucami for a long time, if the crops outside were any indication, so he must have deserted. But Jesse couldn’t bring himself to resent that as he might’ve once upon a time; what Fives had discovered sullied the noble purpose they had been given on Kamino—to liberate the innocent and protect the freedom of all sentient beings. But the liberators had turned out to have been enslaved from the start.

“Yes,” Rex said. “But not if we have anything to say about it.”

Over a delicious earlymeal, he told Cut about their plans to gather evidence and present it to the Senate and the Jedi Council. Cut seemed both aghast at the difficulty of the undergoing and in awe of their resolve.

“If there’s anything I can do,” he said, then looked down at the table. “Anything that won’t take me away from my family,” he amended.

Rex nodded, looking at the Commander and the other vod’e, each of whom Jesse knew he considered his own family. “We understand, Cut. All we need tonight is a place to lay our heads.”

Immediately, Suu responded, “That we can do. But you should stay as long as you need. I told you, Rex. Any way we can help, we will.”

“You honor us,” Rex replied. “Thank you both.”

Suu waved his gratitude off with a smile. “Now, come on—enough talking! Eat, eat!”

Later that morning, Jek and Shaeeah bounded downstairs, chasing each other, and were delighted to meet more of their father’s brothers. Jesse and Rex played with them while Fives helped Suu with the dishes and Commander Tano asked Cut about his battalion.

Afterward, they helped their hosts harvest their leafy crops and package them to be sold in town. The unforgiving midday sun beat down on them, and the bandanas and wide-brimmed hats Cut lent them only provided so much relief from its intense rays. Fives set down his basket and wiped his brow. It was hard work, but it was honest, and he didn’t risk losing any brothers doing it. To sweeten the deal, Cut and Suu had insisted on paying them for their labor; now that they could no longer bill anything to the GAR, they needed the credits. Only so many could be taken from Bonteri’s coffers without arousing suspicion.

Suu also promised to take a couple of them to town when she went to sell the produce so they could acquire disguises and new weapons.

The day was strangely bright for such a dark time in their lives.

Rex, Commander Tano, Suu, and the kids retired early that night. Cut grabbed what was left of the palm ’skee they’d been drinking and invited Fives and Jesse to join him on the porch. He switched on a lantern attached to the side of the house, and they settled in mismatched chairs. Fives swatted at the annoying flying insects that nipped at the skin left exposed by his blacks. Cut had swapped his fieldwork clothes for a sleeveless tunic and a worn pair of shorts, but the bugs didn’t seem interested in him.

“We can’t thank you enough for letting us stay here, Cut,” Jesse said, genuine awe plain on his face. “Your home is wonderful.”

“Vor’e, brother,” Cut said gratefully, handing Jesse the bottle and sitting back. “I know I’m lucky to have gotten a chance to tend this land, build this house, be a part of this family.”

“You are,” Fives said, his thoughts going to Echo, as they always did—of his riduur and that horrible moment at the Citadel when he had rushed into the firefight, determined to clear the way to the shuttle. The explosion that had taken Echo away from him—the burst of hot light that had flung Fives away and whited out his vision—still haunted him; every day since, his heart had seized with regret and longing and a wish for the impossible.

Once, they had spoken of the future—speculating about a time after the war—when they would leave the fighting behind and settle down somewhere peaceful with the rest of their brothers. But that future had been lost when Echo died, and the happiness that the dream had promised was now unreachable.

As if reading his mind, Cut asked, “You boys bonded?”

“Not to each other,” Jesse joked, passing Fives the ’skee. Fives took a grateful swig.

Cut snorted. “Well, I got that.”

Jesse grinned. “My bondmate’s name is Kix—he’s a field medic, and also in the 501st. He’s smart, kind, gorgeous—and can drink you under the table. We met on Viidaav and barely made it out. He saved my life, and I saved his. And then he named me.” His shoulders sagged. “We both lost more than half our companies during that disaster.”

“I know the feeling,” Cut said grimly. “I’m sorry.”

Jesse nodded, jaw clenched. Fives knew he was thinking of his batchers, all of whom had died on that accursed planet, like Hevy and Cutup and Droidbait had on Rishi. They were all intimately familiar with loss.

“And you, Fives?” Cut asked.

“Echo was my batcher,” Fives said, and he couldn’t help smiling at the memory of growing up with his partner, the conversations they would have in one of their bunk slots after everyone else had gone to bed, the way Echo would grab Fives’s hand when he was scared and talk Fives down when his temper flared. “He was brainy, and funny, and an utter pain in the shebs.” He chuckled. “I think I fell in love with him from the moment he first opened his mouth and scolded me.”

Fidgeting with the bottle in his hands, Fives looked skyward. “When we were cadets, he was obsessed with reg manuals, of all things. But he was also the only one in our squad who could keep up with me in a spar or target sim, so he must’ve learned something from them.” He gulped another hit of the ’skee down and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “We eventually became ARC troopers together.” He exhaled. “Then I lost him at the Citadel.”

Cut’s eyes widened. “The Citadel? On Lola Sayu?”

“That’s the one.”

Cut shook his head. “That’s awful. I’m so sorry.”

“I know he’s watching over us from afar, vod,” Jesse said quietly.

Fives nodded, his throat tight. “He would have loved this place,” he said. “He always wanted to settle down somewhere quiet, learn how to garden and cook real food.”

“I wish he had gotten the chance,” Cut said, solemn.

“Vor entye, vod,” Fives replied, thankful. He handed the bottle back to Cut.

Lucky for the sharp ache in his heart, Jesse changed the subject: “Did you and Suu do a formal bonding ceremony?”

“We did what we could,” Cut said, and tugged the sleeve of his tunic down his right shoulder. A whorl of ink surrounded by bold dots curled from his shoulder down to his pectoral. It perfectly matched the markings on Suu’s lekku.

“It’s beautiful,” Fives said.

“Thanks,” Cut replied, and added, chuckling, “Jek and Shaeeah want ones for themselves when they’re grown.”

Jesse laughed and clasped his hands behind his head. “Glad to hear our culture is being passed down to little cadets even all the way out here.”

Grinning, Cut passed the bottle back to Fives and said dryly, “Sorry to say I won’t be teaching them how to distill homebrew or make sparklers out of detonator parts.”

Fives kicked Cut’s foot playfully. “Hey, you know what the Cuy’val Dar used to say: It builds character.”

The next morning, Suu took Rex, dressed in a set of Cut’s workclothes, and Commander Tano, wrapped in an old cloak, to town on old speeder bikes. The nearest settlement was an hour’s ride from the homestead, and the journey there was one of the most beautiful things Rex had ever experienced, the golden sky cloudless and sun splashing the coral trees and tall palms.

The town was small and quiet, a water tower standing high above the other buildings. Tattered hides sheltered the main courtyard from direct sunlight, and the walkways were dotted with vaporators. Advertisements for farming droids, produce merchants, and the system elections flashed in both Basic and the local language on the colorful billboards.

Rex and Commander Tano helped Suu unload her goods at the stand she pointed out. She assigned them to count credits and bag the orders while she hawked the vegetables and chatted with her customers.

After the last of the bunches of green were sold, they loaded the empty crates back in the speeder, then Suu led them to her tailor, whom she promised was very discreet. Rex had never before visited a tailor; every piece of clothing manufactured for the GAR was identical, the only modicum of variation the stockier build of an ARC trooper or the slimmer form of a scout. Kamino hadn’t even allowed them that, giving each youngling the same two sets of synthweave tunics and trousers that they had to teach each other how to modify.

The tailor’s office sat above a laundromat, the rickety stairs creaking as they ascended. The ceiling was low and the lighting dark, a strong perfume wafting from the back. The many tables were covered in piles of fabric, all a whirlwind of color.

“Suu!” the tailor, a Vodran with leathery green skin and short spikes along their face, exclaimed, holding their arms out. “How are Shaeeah and Jek?”

“They’re good, Xekos,” Suu said, folding them into an embrace. “Getting bigger every day.”

“Just wait—before you know it, they’ll be leaving your clutch,” Xekos chortled, shaking their head. Their colorful jewelry jangled with the movement. “So who have you brought me today?”

“Cut’s brothers need new clothes, and some kitchen supplies,” Suu said. “What can you spare?”

Kitchen supplies? Rex exchanged a glance with Commander Tano, who shrugged, brow ridges raised.

Xekos nodded, gesturing with a clawed hand. “Come with me,” they said. A seamster droid trailed after them, clucking under his breath.

They wove through a forest of clothing items for humanoids that hung from the ceiling, everything from a Human youngling’s Core-style formalwear to Pau’an gowns and Wookiee bandoliers. Xekos tugged loose a keycard from their lanyard and slotted it into a door console at the end of the room.

They crowded in through the door, and Xekos keyed a code into a panel in the wall. It slid open to reveal a massive array of ordnance—blasters, charges and detonators, slugthrowers, vibroblades, EMP grenades, all the works.

“Wayii,” Rex swore, impressed.

“Welcome, friends, to my kitchen supply shelf,” Xekos said, a wicked gleam in their eyes. “I’m sure I can set you up with something nice.”

Wide-eyed, Rex and Commander Tano loaded up their ordnance supply. The droid took their measurements and brought over a selection of bounty hunter–like clothes and face and head coverings. Meanwhile, Suu made suggestions regarding civilian weapons that wouldn’t give away their identities.

“Rex, I’m guessing heavy blaster pistols might be the best way to transition from your DC-17s.”

Rex picked them up, twirling them in his hands to test their weight and balance, and whistled. “You sure know your blasters. You sure you weren’t a bounty hunter in another life?”

Suu laughed. “I make it my business to know everything I need to in order to ensure my family’s security.”

Commander Tano needed more time to satisfy, given that she would need to adjust her Jar’Kai fighting style to suit blasters. At her frustrated expression, Rex hefted a slim vibroblade with about the reach of her shoto lightsaber from a higher shelf and examined it carefully before adding it to the pile of blasters they had selected for Fives and Jesse. The Commander’s eyes widened, and she grinned when she realized what he was thinking.

“Come on,” Suu said, leading them through the town square after they paid for their purchases and lugged the sealed half-crates down to the speeders. “Let’s grab a bite.”

There was a band of Lasats and Wookiees playing music with a fast bass line at an outdoor cantina, and Suu motioned for them to park their speeders at the entrance of the pavilion.

Rex and Commander Tano grabbed a seat under the sun shelter while Suu ordered some local fare for them.

The carnivore options Suu brought back to the table made the Commander light up. She and Suu dug in with relish. Rex knew Togruta were predators, and that, unlike him and his brothers, the Commander found GAR rations insufficient nutritionally and frequently had to supplement her diet with extra protein. Conversely, real food didn’t always agree with Rex’s own system, but he enjoyed every bite of the meal.

As they ate, though, he kept feeling eyes on them. While Suu and Commander Tano spoke animatedly, Rex looked around surreptitiously the cantina, evaluating each patron’s threat potential.

That was when he spotted four beings crowded around a table near the exit—a table on which sat four bounty pucks in a neat row. They were activated, a holo of Rex’s own face glowing beside the ones of Commander Tano, Fives, and Jesse.

He allowed himself a moment of derision. Clearly these bounty hunters had never hunted a brother before—what might’ve ordinarily been out of Human range was clear as day to vod’e vision.

“Commander,” Rex muttered once Suu had stepped out to visit the refresher. “Point five-three.”

Commander Tano set down her utensil and looked, then nodded and wiped her mouth. “There have been eyes on us all day. And here I was thinking Saleucami was supposed to be neutral territory.”

“Bounty hunters have no allegiance,” Rex pointed out. “If the Perpetrator sent them after us—“

“Then we need to get out of here as soon as possible.” Commander Tano grabbed the straps of her pack, and Rex finished his last bite of the meal, then tugged his own pack closer to him. They stood in unison, watching each other’s backs. Behind the Commander, a hooded figure put down their drink and made to stand as well. Rex’s hand was already on his pistols, one new and one Republic issue.

Commander Tano’s hand flashed lightning fast, just two commands: Run, assist.

They made it to the refresher, weaving around other customers and the old waiter droids. Before the swinging doors, Suu was drop-kicking a snarling Trandoshan, a heavily armed Mon Calamari already lying unconscious on the ground.

“Huh,” Commander Tano said, grinning, “we thought you might need backup, but it looks like you’re handling the situation just fine.”

The Trandoshan groaned as they slammed to the ground, and Suu grinned like a predator, showing off the razor-sharp tips of her teeth.

“I can take care of myself,” Suu agreed, rubbing her raw knuckles against her palm.

Suddenly, the hooded figure emerged behind Commander Tano. Rex was still opening his mouth to warn her by the time she elbowed them in the stomach, then twirled into a hold and kicked them to the ground.

“Time to go!” Rex said.

They ran out of the establishment, two more bounty hunters appearing on their tail. Rex shot one in the shoulder, and Suu stunned the other one.

“The bikes!” Rex called, jumping back on the speeders parked outside the cantina.

As they sped out of the town center, Rex hit his comlink. “Fives, Jesse, come in!”

“Copy, Captain,” Jesse said immediately. “What is it?” Jek could be heard shrieking in the background.

“Gonna have to cut our visit short! We were spotted by bounty hunters in town and will need a pickup.”

“Yes, sir!”

Rex signed, Ride on the way, at the Commander, who nodded, then twisted to stand on the seat of her moving speeder with that otherworldly Jedi grace. Without hestitation, she shot out the tires of the straggling bounty hunter’s speeder. They crashed to the ground with a billow of smoke, and rolled, cursing.

Then they got to their feet again.

Just in time, Rex felt the telltale gust of hyperspace-capable engines above them. He looked up and saw their ship, the ramp being lowered by Jesse, who was brandishing his deece.

He fired, and the bounty hunter stopped moving.

Commander Tano’s speeder stuttered to a stop, and she shouted, “Get ready, Rex!” before levitating him aboard the ship with an outstretched hand, his own speeder stopping with a screech. He yelped the whole way and was extremely relieved when Jesse grabbed him, tugging him on board.

The Commander reached for Suu, but she declared, “I’ll be fine! Take the goods, and get to safety! You can return the bikes once your mission is over!”

Floating the crates into the small hold of the ship, the Commander called, “Are you sure?”

Suu answered by speeding off with a wave and disappearing into the trees.

Commander Tano shrugged and carefully levitated the bikes up, then took a running jump to leap into the hold.

Jesse whistled as he slammed the ramp shut. “That’s one fearless being.”

“Fives,” Rex shouted, “we’re good to go!”

Rockily, the ship took off into higher orbit. After they secured the crates and speeder bikes, they made their way to the cockpit. Fives grinned at the sight of them and ceded the pilot seat to the Commander, sliding into the copilot spot himself.

“Everyone all right?” he asked, looking them over. “Was that a bounty hunter I saw?”

“Yeah,” Rex said. “There were a few others, too. Looks like we’re officially wanted by the Republic.”

“Looked like hefty rewards, too,” Commander Tano said with a grimace, preparing the ship to enter space. “We’ll need to be more careful from now on.”

Jesse sighed, taking one of the passenger seats. “It’s too bad we didn’t get the chance to say goodbye to those younglings,” he said.

“I think they’ll understand,” the Commander assured him. “We’ll come back someday. I promise.”

After Saleucami, they were more careful, agreeing to weave a more convoluted path to lose anyone tailing them—bounty hunter or otherwise—and only land when they absolutely had to. The ship was small, but better to deal with cramped quarters than to be captured by bounty hunters and returned to Palpatine.

They took turns piloting, the Commander shouldering the most difficult legs of their winding journey across the stars. Gradually, the ship’s comms array began to double as a table for their rations, which mostly consisted of caf, bars, and field kits they ate cold. Their data pads spilled across every available surface, and an armory began to cover the wall of the pilot cabin.

Fives and Jesse claimed the bunks in the passenger cabin and left the ones in the larger pilot cabin to Rex and Commander Tano. They slept in shifts, just as they would have on a Star Destroyer. The rooms were opulent to Fives and Jesse, who had grown up sleeping ten to a room at minimum. Even Rex had had three roommates aboard the Resolute. But more privacy meant there usually weren’t brothers around to awaken Fives from his nightmares; and for the first two weeks in space, his sleep was rough and fragile, dreams old and new making appearances.

But Fives was hardly the only one plagued by bad dreams. He'd even had to awaken Commander Tano from her gasping and crying a few times.

Whether the nightmares were hers or someone else’s, the Commander usually invited them to join her in meditation. Being still and turning inward was not the forte of anyone in the 501st, but luckily that included Commander Tano. Sometimes they would get out either the sabacc cards or cubikhad set Jesse had packed, and other times the Commander would disassemble and reassemble blasters, encouraging them to do the same.

Fives had to admit that when he could manage it, calming himself through such a routine motion did help, especially when he felt particularly antsy. They were all—including the Commander—accustomed to taking their frustration and anger and hurt out in battle, and having nothing to blast was getting to all of them, giving them too much time with their thoughts.

To occupy themselves, they sketched out their plans in detail. The ultimate goal was to infiltrate Kamino and collect evidence that they could then pass on to the senators whom the Commander trusted. They also needed evidence against Palpatine specifically, plus exoneration for themselves. And in the meantime they needed to get in touch with Kix for an status update on the dechipping process. That would prove crucial, as the weakest point in their strategy was that Palpatine knew the Commander suspected something and would surely believe that the vod’e she had taken with her knew as well. The real question was if he would waste time stopping them—or if he would ultimately dismiss them as a non-threat, leaving him oblivious to their plans to take him down. The bounty out for them suggested the former, although the fact that he had outsourced the hunt meant he wasn’t going out of his way to chase them down.

Regardless, they were going to need allies. Commander Tano made a list of every being she had once considered an ally and where they might be found, and Fives, Rex, and Jesse considered every brother outside the 501st whom they knew personally and might be able to trust. According to Jesse, Kix had already considered which medics they could rely on and was only waiting for their go-ahead.

Palpatine had his hands in everything. But they had friends, too. And it wasn’t fear and deception that would bring them together—it was love and respect and gratitude.

So when they ran low on fuel and rations, they went to go find friends on Onderon.

The tops of the lush and colorful Onderonian jungle were beneath them, the ship being steered to the coordinates Ahsoka and Rex remembered, when they were hailed on the comms by an airspace traffic controller:

“Home vessel, please identify yourself.”

“We’re friends of Saw Gerrera,” Ahsoka said. “Callsign Fulcrum.” She hoped he would remember the subspace comms frequency from their time there with Master Kenobi and Master Skywalker. After a moment, the same being responded:

“Home vessel, you are now cleared for landing.”

As they pulled in to the clearing beside the rebel settlement, the ship was surrounded by armed riders on neighing dalgos and tee-muss. The one in the center was riding a hissing ruping.

When they exited the ship and took in the hot, humid air and vegetal smells of the jungle, Saw dismounted from the steed in the middle and called, “Commander Tano! Captain Rex!”

He had grown taller and broader since the last time they’d seen each other. His eyes were still just as sharp and intelligent, though his jaw had become squarer, and a new, nasty vibroblade scar bisected his face. His armor had been upgraded to something more resilient, and he seemed to wear it better, emanating pride and confidence in the Force.

“We’ve been expecting you,” he said as they clasped arms.

Ahsoka froze. “What do you mean?”

“You mean you haven’t seen?” Saw said, frowning.

He waved at one of his assistants, a Bivall who began scrolling hurriedly through their datapad. “You’re all over the galaxy-wide news. There have been several articles and opinion pieces about you in both the Core Post and the Confederacy Gazette, as well as neutral system outlets, over the past week, and some of my people have been tracking public opinion in the HoloNet forums.”

Ahsoka took the proffered ’pad and began skimming the first article. Her heart dropped.

Commander Ahsoka Tano...sedition against the Republic...expelled from the Jedi Order...Padawan status stripped...dishonorably discharged from the Grand Army of the Republic...forfeit all rank and privileges...no trial...influence of the Separatists...bribery...wanted...

The second piece debated whether this was a sign that the Jedi had been corrupted by the war and failed the entire galaxy. Ahsoka snarled at the transcription of a disdainful quote Admiral Tarkin, who was apparently spearheading the investigation, had given the Core.Freedom.Talk radio show and flicked through the rest of the clips.

“I was set up and deceived,” she bit out. “As the Council is being deceived now.”

Saw’s gaze was unusually kind. “We thought so,” he said gently.

Ahsoka startled and looked up from the datapad screen. She handed it back to him, certain she’d be able to dig those up again so she could read the accusations in painful detail. “You believe me?”

“‘Course I do,” Saw said. “I’d recognize an Onderonian vessel anywhere. I’m guessing that’s one of Bonteri’s ships, and that you didn’t steal it from under his nose. He and I may have had our differences, but I know he’s not a traitor. You two seemed familiar—so he must have helped you with whatever’s going on back on Coruscant.”

“Right on every count,” Ahsoka said, impressed.

“Not to mention my people here are skilled at detecting propaganda. And it wasn’t long ago that you were helping us take down the Separatists. When we got word, we knew something wasn’t right. We were hoping we’d be able to help.”

Ahsoka bowed deeply. “Thank you, Saw. I’m honored by your faith in me. I promise not to let you down.”

“I’ll remember that,” Saw said solemnly. “Now—how else can we help you?”

“Our ship needs fuel, and we’re running low on rations and don't have nearly enough bacta. We’d appreciate anything you can spare—“

“Done,” Saw said, and nodded at his assistant to start organizing the supplies. “Anything else?”

“Yeah,” Ahsoka said. “I think you’re going to want to hear why I’ve been framed. Is there somewhere private my men and I can talk to you?”

“Of course,” Saw said. He waved at someone across the way, then beckoned Ahsoka. “Follow me.”

Saw and his rebels were generous; they gave them tents to stay in and invited them to join their latemeal and the less formal fireside conversation. The king had been kind to them, gifting them hefty endowments for their help in taking the Separatist regime down and offering them jobs in the palace. Saw had declined, but when Rex asked him what he thought was next for him, he seemed uncertain.

“The news Commander Tano brings is alarming, though,” he said. “Maybe the fight isn’t over for us. The Republic might not have helped Onderon, but you troopers and Jedi did, and we couldn’t have done it without you. We owe you one. If there’s a fight, we’ll be there.”

“Thank you, Saw,” Rex said, sipping his smoky kingscrown spirit. A bird with a shrill voice squawked in the distance. “We could really use friends and allies right now. It’s been hard to know who to trust.”

“I know the feeling,” Saw said, and they spoke briefly of other things before he was pulled away by one of his people.

Rex finished his drink and looked around the room. Fives and Jesse were talking animatedly to an Ithorian and a pair of Tognath, glasses full and moods seemingly light. But Commander Tano wasn’t with them, or anywhere else around them.

After being directed by a few Twi’leks counting medical supplies, Rex found her in the back of the settlement, huddled against a tall tree, her legs gathered close and chin on her knees. She was trembling but clearly trying to hold herself together, her sobs intermittently suppressed. The light of Onderon’s moons revealed how damp her face was.

Rex’s heart ached. “Commander,” he called gently, forcing his body not to snap to attention.

“Ahsoka,” she corrected stubbornly, voice hoarse, but she didn’t tell him to go away, so he sat down beside her, legs crossed. When she lifted her hand to wipe the tears away, he realized she was holding on to her Padawan beads. He’d never seen her without them before.

“Ahsoka,” he conceded, unwilling to put up a fight while she was already upset. Cautiously, he added, fiddling with a fallen fern frond, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Ahsoka sighed, stretching out her legs and craning her head to look at the stars. For a long moment, she was quiet, and Rex didn’t push. He was long practiced in comforting those who struggled to put their churning emotions into words, who feared that speaking things aloud would make them all too real.

Eventually, she said, “I knew they wouldn’t believe me. When I started running, I knew they would think I was guilty. Palpatine made it so easy for them.” She wrung her hands. “But I still feel so...” She pressed her mouth in a flat line. “Betrayed.”

At Rex’s solemn nod, she stretched her legs out and continued, “I was sent to the Temple before I could walk. I’ve considered the Jedi my family all my life. And I thought that feeling was mutual.” She tilted her head to the sky. “But maybe that was never the case. Not if they didn’t even try to hear what I had to say before they—they expelled me!”

She sighed. “The Jedi teach that attachments are dangerous, that they’re fundamentally selfish and can lead to greed and fear all sorts of awful things. But acting like I’m some horrible traitor and condemning me without any evidence—if this is how the Jedi treat someone who grew up with them, learned from them, worked with them, helped win battles for them...then I don’t know if being a Jedi was ever right for me.”

Rex’s heart ached for her. “They abandoned you,” he bit out. Ahsoka turned to stare at him, seeming surprised. It was fair; just one month ago, he would never have spoken so openly about the shortcomings of the Jedi Council. Before Umbara, he would never have spoken of it at all.

But much had changed in that time.

“They were your family, and you were counting on them to have your back—we all were—and when the time came for them to prove their loyalty, they...they abandoned you,” he spat. “But we were taught to ‘leave no brother behind.’ And we intend to, Ahsoka. You’ll always be a part of our family. Aliit ori'shya tal'din.”

Ahsoka’s eyes shone, and she gripped Rex’s forearm. “You honor me, Rex. And I promise that goes both ways.” She tilted her head. “‘Clan’...?”

He clasped her forearm in return. “Clan is more than blood,” he translated.

Ahsoka smiled and scrubbed at her face with her free hand. Clumsily, she repeated the phrase. Her Basic accent rendered the vowels flat and staccato, but the reciprocated words made warmth swell in Rex’s heart.

Blinking his own tears away, he slid his hand over Ahsoka’s narrow wrist and squeezed.

Chapter Text

“It’s a sign of respect. They know what you went through for them, day after day, battle after battle. Loyalty means everything to the clones.”
—Anakin Skywalker

Cody stared at his rosters of the 7th Sky Corps and rubbed his temple in consternation. His army was in a tizzy. The 501st had lost its renowned Jedi commander, its revered captain, and one of its top lieutenants while it was already reeling from the loss of its premier ARC Trooper. And the worst part was—Cody couldn’t understand why.

It didn’t make any sense. He knew Rex, had hand-selected him and trained him and taught him everything he knew. And the Rex he knew would never abandon his regiment and leave his men behind. Leave Cody.

And if he ever had reason to abscond, it would certainly not be with a former Jedi who had committed acts of terrorism against the Republic. According to General Kenobi, Rex had told General Skywalker that he believed Tano to be innocent. But Fox had been watching the security camera feed when Tano had been in the cell with the suspect, and he’d told Cody that he had seen for himself what had happened. So had the men he’d been with.

So could Tano somehow be controlling Rex’s mind? Was that even possible?

Cody put the datapad down and reached for his thermajug. The caf was dreadfully lukewarm, but he gulped it down anyway.

He had to admit that Rex had changed in the past few months—since the 104th had rescued him from Zygerria, since he had staged a revolt on Umbara, since he had lost one of his closest friends at the Citadel. Cody had begun to see something new in him—something wild and feral, raw and unrestrained. Reckless, like his Jedi general and commander. He’d been the same after they had returned from that terrible mission on Geonosis last year, though he had seemed to bounce back after some time. Cody had blamed grief and the expected stressors of constant war. Every soldier, no matter how illustrious, no matter what modifications had been made in the tube, shattered at one point. And Rex had to be no exception.

But there was grief, and there was desertion. Tano had been declared a traitor by the Jedi Order and the Grand Army of the Republic, and Rex had not just helped Tano escape but even disappeared with her and taken one of his best soldiers along. The entire GAR knew what had happened that night—how Rex and Tano had slipped Wolffe’s grasp and fled with Jesse. And there had been no word since.

The door chime to his office interrupted his thoughts, and Cody glanced at his chrono. “Come in,” he said, and stood when the door slid open to reveal General Kenobi.

“Cody,” the General said warmly. “I thought we might grab midmeal together before our meeting with Command, if you’re interested?”

“Good idea, sir,” Cody said, grabbing the datapad he was considering and joining General Kenobi at the door. As he stepped into the corridor, he rubbed at his eye with the heel of his left hand.

“What have you been working on that’s got you so frustrated?” the General asked.

Cody sighed. The General’s eyes were warm, and he had never been able to resist his thoughtful concern. “Filling the clone commander spot in the 501st, sir.” He pulled up the roster again. “Voca’s one of the 501st’s most senior ranking officers, and he’s got a mind for strategy, but his battlefield numbers don’t quite measure up. Vill does do very well on the field, but he can be a wildcard—often more focused on winning than saving lives. Bow consistently leads by example but doesn’t always think of the bigger picture. Vaughn shows a lot of potential, but he’s still pretty green. Appo is probably best suited to the role, but he was only promoted to captain of a company a few months ago. He might not be ready to lead an entire battalion yet.”

“At the very least, it seems that we have no shortage of candidates,” General Kenobi said. “Perhaps we can narrow the list down to two or three candidates and have Anakin let us know who he’d be most compatible with. I know his leadership style is not the most...conventional and that it could impact some of your brothers negatively.”

Cody snorted. “You can say that again.”

The General laughed, eyes sparkling. Over the years, he had frequently borne the weight of Cody’s complaints about General Skywalker’s blatant disobedience and reckless ideas. After his carefully drafted battle plans had been disrupted for the tenth time, Cody had stopped being at all shy about his frustration in that regard.

They reached the mess just as Lieutenant Wooley was exiting the mess with his squad, half of whom were fresh shinies. Cody frowned at the sight of them. As the war continued, the Kaminoans were decanting tubies earlier and earlier. He knew they needed more soldiers, but sending in vod’e who were only seven, eight years old couldn’t be the solution.

But Cody had a duty, and he couldn’t let his own misgivings get in the way of getting the job done.

Wooley lazily saluted them as he walked past. “General, Commander.”

“Hello, Wooley,” Obi-Wan said, then greeted the other four troopers as they passed, his head inclined.

Cody smiled at his now veteran brother, and the thought made him look around as he entered the mess to see if he could find the soldier who had been with the 212th the longest—Captain Boil. Even after all this time, Cody still sometimes expected to see Waxer first, hands on a shiny’s shoulders, telling silly jokes that made them laugh and loosen up, with Boil like a shadow, wearing his customary scowl but standing loyally at Waxer’s side, as he always did.

The thought made his heart squeeze with regret. Shinies always came in thinking dying was the worst part, but surviving was the hardest of all. And it wasn’t as if Boil hadn’t lost countless batchers, and squadmates, and the men he had been assigned to lead—his remembrances were probably nearly as long as Cody’s at this point—but Waxer had been his bondmate. And from the very beginning, they had been inseparable.

For Cody, that would be akin to losing—

“Here you go, my dear,” General Kenobi said, handing him a cup of piping hot caf with just the right splash of cream, and Cody was swept by a searing tide of longing.

Cheeks flushed, he said, “Thank you, General.” When General Kenobi let go, his fingers brushed against Cody’s, seemingly intentionally, making his breath hitch. But when he looked up at him, there was something bleak and fathomless in the General’s eyes. It reminded Cody of how he had looked in those months after he returned from Mandalore and had been so very professional every time they had been alone. He had assumed the General had been in mourning, but that didn’t explain why Cody made him feel that way.

He was distracted from his curiosity by his arrival at the front of the line, where he received a tray of rations. His own tray in hand, General Kenobi led the way to his office. Cody settled into the familiar seat across from the General’s desk.

“May I ask you something, Cody?”

Cody glanced up from the missive he was answering on his datapad as he methodically ate. “Of course, General. Ask away.”

General Kenobi nodded. “Did you know Rex was going to leave?”

“No, sir,” Cody said, frowning. “I was just as surprised as you were.”

“Have you heard from him since then?”

Shaking his head, Cody said, “Not a peep.” He swallowed against the hurt that had been jabbing him in the chest ever since he had heard the news. Because that was what it was—hurt, that after everything they had been through together, Rex would just vanish without telling Cody a single kriffing thing.

His concern from earlier flashed through his mind again. “I’ve been wondering,” he said, “could Rex have not chosen to leave? You mentioned Tano was researching the dark side. Is there some way she could have been controlling him?”

“It’s not impossible,” General Kenobi said, pushing the slop on his tray around. “To be honest, she wouldn’t have even needed to resort to the dark side for that. But a mind trick would only work for a limited time, and once Rex was released from its thrall, I assume he would contact us and bring her in.”

Cody sighed. “Good point. I suppose it’s wishful thinking. I just can’t bring myself to believe that he would desert the GAR. It doesn’t make any sense. But I must be missing something.”

“About that,” General Kenobi said, setting his utensil down, “I’ve been thinking. Anakin still doesn’t believe that Ahsoka is responsible for the Temple bombing, and he’s convinced there’s more to this than we know. I worried that he was simply blinded by his emotions on the matter, but as I’ve been trying to make sense of it, I still can’t understand Ahsoka’s motivation. Even asking Master Plo and Commander Offee, who she was close to, hasn’t gotten me anywhere.”

General Kenobi braced his chin in thought and mused, “Therefore, it’s in our interest to consider all the possibilities. So say we posit that Ahsoka wasn’t responsible for the attack. Then...could what Rex told Anakin be true? Could she have been framed by the true culprit?”

Cody was silent for a moment as bright hope warred with a sallow dread within him. “But that brings up a new question,” he finished slowly. “If she didn’t do it...then who did?”

Slouching in the ship’s passenger seats with the safety harnesses tight across his chest, Rex tossed the holoprojector puck in the air and caught it again. Earlier, Commander Tano had had to take the pilot seat from him when they had made a mistake in their navigation calculations and suddenly hit an asteroid belt. Not having an astromech and trying to only rarely use the ship’s traceable nav computer had been a pain, especially because none of them were particularly adept at the calculations. For now, though, Jesse had taken the copilot chair, and Rex and Fives were taking a backseat.

Next to Rex, Fives was anxiously scanning news reports on his datapad. Since they had left Onderon, he had become fixated on it, constantly searching for signs of Palpatine’s manipulation. He had even taken to going over old missions and theorizing about the ways they had gone wrong after the Jedi had discussed the developments with the Chancellor and received new orders. It wasn’t looking great, and Rex was doing his best not to fixate how many brothers had been lost because of Palpatine’s machinations—how many had been sacrificed for a meaningless war.

Rex knew he needed to make the call, but he couldn’t shake the reluctance that kept him from dialing Cody’s frequency. The trouble was, he didn’t yet have anything to offer. They had Fives’s witness account, but his credibility had already been tainted. Cody would need more if he was being asked to convey their findings to the other marshal commanders, to commence surgery on the rest of the vod’e, to keep their findings from the Jedi.

Beside him, Fives had suddenly frozen in his seat. Rex turned to him. “What’s wrong, vod?”

Silently, Fives handed him the datapad. A HoloNet clip from the Outer Rim Node was quietly playing, featuring a report on a second attack on the Jedi Temple on Coruscant. Way out here, the projector was glitchy, but the casualty counter in the corner was clear enough. The bombs had gone off in the spacecraft maintenance hangar; this time, sixteen victims had died in the blast, seven of them vod'e, with many others injured. The Coruscant Guard was still searching for the bodies that were unaccounted for.

Rex swore but kept his voice down so as to not disturb Commaner Tano in the cockpit. “I swear, when I find out who’s responsible for this...” he muttered, and Fives, scowling, pounded his chest with his right fist twice in silent agreement with the implied threat.

Once they were clear of the asteroid field and Jesse had guided the ship back into a hyperspace lane, Rex showed the clip to the Commander on the holoprojector. Her hand flew to her mouth in horror as a reporter interviewed the extraordinarily smarmy Adjutant General Tarkin. “Why is this happening?”

“I don’t know, sir,” Rex said, grim. On the projector, the newscaster was reporting on the number of staff members who had quit working for the Jedi when they got word of the second attack. “Sounds like the generals still haven’t figured out who’s behind it, either. If it’s really Palpatine, I have a feeling they’re not going to.”

Fives slammed his fist on the arm of his chair and growled, “In the meantime, they’re still pinning it on you, Commander—even though you’re not anywhere near Coruscant, and they kriffing well made sure of that.”

“Yeah, what a load of bantha fodder,” Commander Tano scoffed. “How would I even get on-planet? That sleemo Tarkin has gone out of his way to take away all my privileges. He has to be in Palpatine’s pocket.”

Rex shook his head. “It’s not right, sir. And by declaring you the mastermind, they’re letting the real culprit get away.”

Fives scowled. “You know, if the Jedi and the Guard won’t look into who’s behind this, then maybe we should.”

The Commander’s eyes widened. “But the mission—”

“It’s all connected, isn’t it?” Fives said, gesturing around himself. “The Jedi Council and the Senate are going to be harder to convince if they still think you’re a terrorist. This is part of our mission.”

Ahsoka heaved a breath. After a moment she took to probably run through their timeline in her head, she nodded and said, “Okay, let’s do it.”

Rex looked up from where he was scowling at the newsreport. “Where should we start?”

Setting down his depilator, Kix sighed, glaring at his reflection as he eyed his newly trimmed beard. It looked nice—precise as his work always was—but there was nothing to be done about the dark circles under his eyes or the way his hair was growing out in uneven patches, obscuring the now-healed chip removal incision site.

Seeing himself with hair was strange. As with most of the vod’e, his identity was in many ways tied to how he chose to style himself. He had carefully shaved his close-cropped hair since he had been a cadet on Kamino and been allowed to choose so, even before he was inked. But with the Chancellor’s secret war on the horizon, there were more important things to consider than his personal vanity.

Such as that he had been surreptitiously removing chips from all the vod’e who landed in his medbay since Jesse and the others had departed. It went against his ethics, but so did the chips. He didn’t see another way—at least until the rest of their ragtag team gathered actual evidence of the conspiracy that he could show his brothers. Word always spread too quickly among the vod’e, and if any one of them learned the real reason three of the 501’s most skilled soldiers had deserted the GAR and one was AWOL, everyone from the Jedi younglings to the Chancellor would know in two cycles. And time was of the essence, when millions of brothers needed to receive the procedure before the Chancellor decided to activate his secret weapon.

To at least slightly alleviate the burden, Kix enlisted the help of his droid assistant—who Jesse and Ahsoka had helped him modify for security before they left—and the procedure became part of their daily duties. Given how the chips had to be detected with a level-five brain scan, a rare, expensive procedure, he hypothesized that none of the other medics would ever think to look and find it missing.

Because he was working alone, Kix had no choice but to juggle the urgent mission with his regular responsibilities of dashing through battlefields tending to brothers, helping the Search & Rescue team tag the deceased and carry out the gravely injured, and treating the survivors on the flagship. And since they had been transferred to Anaxes, it had only gotten worse.

The losses the 187th had sustained in the grueling campaign had already been mounting for a month by the time the 501st and the 212th were called in, freshly triumphant from taking Prefsbelt back from the Separatists. It hadn’t taken much time at all for the adrenaline from that victory to wear off. Every day, Kix was sent back onto the merciless battlefield, forced to leave behind countless brothers as he dodged the continuous enemy fire to save the brothers he could. Between witnessing so much horror and completely lacking any time to sleep for a half-cycle every few shifts, Kix felt number by the second.

It didn’t help that medical supplies were at an all-time low because elsewhere the galaxy, the rest of the GAR was also waging very long and incredibly brutal campaigns, especially in the Outer Rim, and at this point, every battalion was hemorrhaging senior medics. Kix had already been skimmed by countless blaster bolts, his carefully maintained plastoid the only thing between him and a grave injury. He was used to close calls, especially when he was this exhausted, but usually he had Jesse with him to watch his six—or at least back in the barracks to comfort him about the men he’d had to leave behind. This was the longest they had ever been apart. And with his anxiety levels constantly high, Kix felt his absence keenly.

With a sigh, he checked his chrono. They’d scheduled a covert call for later that cycle—which would be the second since Jesse’s departure. Like the previous call, it would technically be an intel drop, but the others had been kind enough to let Jesse handle it so that he and Kix could have some alone time on the comm, however brief it might have to be.

Kix exited the medbay’s staff refresher and settled back into his office. He switched his desk’s holoprojector’s transmitter to the covert frequency he’d been given and waited for some time, feeling inexplicably nervous as their agreed-upon meeting time flew by. Who knew what Jesse and the others had been doing—and whether they were even alive? Kix didn’t know if he’d be able to live with himself if they died out there while he was—relatively—safe back here. He was certain that staying had been the right thing to do, given the circumstances, but guilt still plagued him, especially in his ceaseless nightmares.

To calm himself, he trudged through his ever-overflowing inbox, filing away battalion-wide notices and responding to the messages that required his direct attention. The GAR-wide shortage of defib strips and adrenaline patches meant that the remaining medics of the 7th Sky Corps and the 187th Battalion had resorted to bartering for supplies for each of their companies, and with tensions high, the conversations often got aggressive.

Then, just as Kix was about to defuse an argument between a Wildfire medic and one of the other Torrent medics, the call synced.

The reception on Jesse’s end was poor and choppy, his little blue torso cutting in and out, but relief flowed through Kix at the sight of his riduur. His new beard was thick and overgrown, and his hair was virtually the same length as Kix’s, obscuring most of his tattoo. His loose, dark-colored tunic was cuffed on the right side, exposing where his forearm had been wrapped in fresh bacta bandages. At the sight of it, Kix leaned in closer and catalogued the bacta patches that were also on his forehead and left hand.

“Hey, babe,” Jesse said, smiling despite his injuries. “Sorry I’m late. We got a little held up.”

“Jess,” Kix replied, eyeing his state in worry, “what happened?”

“You should’ve seen the other guy,” Jesse joked. “Don’t worry. Someone spotted us while we were refueling, but we got away in the end. That’s the only thing that matters right now, in my book.” Kix resisted the urge to ask for more details. Last time, Jesse had said the comm line was all but impenetrable, but one couldn’t be too safe when the life of his bondmate—and the fate of the vod’e—was at stake.

Regardless of what had happened, an injured arm was an injured arm, so Kix gave Jesse instructions on how to force it to quickly heal, then scolded him for not being careful enough.

Rolling his eyes with a smile, Jesse leaned into the holocamera and tried to distract him: “You look good, Kix’ika.”

“Ha,” Kix said, taking the bait. “Are you talking about the bags under my eyes or the sloppy shave I did an hour ago?”

Jesse smiled tenderly. “All of it. I miss you. I wish you were here with me.” He sighed. “And I worry about you, out there without me to watch your back.”

“I miss you, too,” Kix said. “But I’ll be okay.” He sighed. “I was right, you know. They need me here. I keep hearing from up top that the war’s almost won, but it seems impossible to believe. Besides, it just feels so futile, fighting a war we now know is meaningless. So many brothers lost, and for what? I wish I could tell them.”

Kix saw his own exhaustion mirrored in Jesse’s eyes. “In due time. We’ll save them all, cyar’ika,” he said fiercely. “On that note—how is the dechipping process going?”

Kix updated him on the numbers and told him about the report he had put together for the other GAR medics, which included CT scans and analysis of the biochip. Once the Commander gave him the go-ahead, he would distribute it to key senior medics in the GAR, starting with the 501st, then the 212th and the 104th.

They continued to talk for some time afterward, Jesse conveying how Rex, Fives, and Commander Tano were holding up, and how he was especially concerned about her.

“She’s been taking the Jedi Council’s decision and the news of the second attack on the Temple really hard,” he said. “She’s trying to be strong for us, but she’s obviously hurting.”

Kix winced. “I’m sorry to hear it. General Skywalker is furious about what happened. I heard he interrupted a Jedi Council meeting just to yell at them for an hour, and that there was an encore at High Command, too. If they press charges for the latest attack, he’ll probably do it again.”

Jesse snorted. “I’m shocked,” he said dryly. “I’ll tell the Commander, though—maybe the idea of Skywalker still having her back will cheer her up.”

“I hope so,” Kix said. “The sooner we can tell the Jedi the truth and make them understand that Commander Tano was framed the better.”

“Agreed,” Jesse said. Kix could tell he had more to say and was trying to hold back, but he didn’t pry. He trusted Jesse’s judgment of the security of the line. Jesse glanced at his chrono. “Okay, we have ten more minutes.”

Kix sagged in disappointment even though he’d known they would only be able to talk for a short time. “Wait, before you go—I have to ask you about something.”

In vague terms, he told Jesse about their campaign on Anaxes and the immense losses they had been suffering thus far. “The tactical droid we’re facing is smarter than any we’ve ever seen. It’s almost more like an analytics program: The first time we use a strategy, it’s very effective. The next time, less so, and the following time not at all. It’s happened dozens of times.” He sighed. “Appo, Vill, and I went with a special ops team behind enemy lines to investigate their central command center, but instead of any program or algorithm or tactical droid, all we found was an empty room and an encrypted signal being sent from a neighboring planet.”

Jesse was frowning. “Could it be a new droid prototype they're keeping under wraps? The Seppies have been building more and more of those creepy clanker variants.”

“No idea. Our guys couldn’t figure it out. So I was hoping—I know you have enough on your plate right now, but maybe you could take a look at it if you end up with any free time. I...” Kix scrubbed at his face. “Too many brothers are dying here, Jess. It’s a massacre, and I can’t see it ending until they’ve torn through all of us. I know I can’t save them all, but I have to do something, and I thought—you’re the best slicer I know—”

“I’m no Mainframe or Delve or Crys,” Jesse interjected. “If they can’t make sense of it—”

“Maybe not technically, but you’re more creative than they are,” Kix pointed out. “You might be able to figure out something they didn’t consider.”

Jesse ducked his head bashfully at the compliment, and Kix knew he’d won. “All right; I guess it couldn’t hurt to take a look. How did you get your hands on the intel, anyway?”

Kix snorted. “Delve was in the medbay recovering from his injuries, and I borrowed his datapad while he was sleeping.” At Jesse’s raised eyebrow, he protested, “Don’t judge me! I’m desperate, all right?”

Jesse laughed. “No judgement here,” he said. “In fact, I’m impressed.” Kix sighed in exasperation, which made Jesse laugh more. The familiar sound made his heart squeeze. Being around Jesse just made him feel so at ease.

“Thanks, Jess,” Kix said, when he received the notification for a secure package-receiving route for the call. He sent over the encrypted files, as well as the report he’d put together for good measure.

Smiling, Jesse confirmed delivery and said, “Anything for you, cyar’ika,” and Kix was suddenly overtaken by a flood of affection. He smiled back.

Before he could respond, there was a slick hiss on the other side of the connection, and Jesse turned at the sound. Someone dropped an arm around him, tugging him back around, and Fives appeared in the holo, his face squished close to Jesse’s.

“Hey, Fives,” Kix said, suddenly filled with a strong yearning to be at not just Jesse’s side but his teammates’ as well.

“Good to see you’re alive and kicking,” Fives said, grinning. “Maybe this di’kut will finally stop worrying about you for at least a couple days and give the rest of us some peace.”

Jesse shoved him with his elbow. “Who’s the di’kut? Get outta here. I’m talking to my ’mate.”

Despite himself, Kix flushed, pleased.

They spoke for a few more minutes, Fives showing off the scar he had recently received from a vibroblade aimed at his windpipe, to Kix’s horror. All too soon, they had to go work on hyperspace calculations for their next jump.

The room was too quiet after the call disconnected. Kix slumped in his chair. He couldn’t stop remembering the tender way Jesse had said goodbye—Hiibir baatir, riduur—and the longing on his face as Kix had repeated the words back at him: Take care, husband. He wished he could be there with them.

Eventually, he sat back up. Jesse had reprimanded him for working too hard, and he hadn’t been wrong. But there was work to do, and Kix had volunteered to stay behind so that he could do it.

So come what may, he would do it. He wouldn’t let the rest of the team—or his brothers—down.

When they had departed from Onderon, Saw had pledged his support for their cause and provided them with a frequency at which they could contact him if they ever needed his or his team’s help.

Once they decided to investigate the bombings, Ahsoka reached out to him to see if he had any thoughts about them or any knowledge of the nano-droids she and Obi-Wan had discovered in Letta’s home. According to Saw’s tech specialist, very few companies manufactured the devices because they were highly regulated. If the framing had anything to do with Palpatine—and Ahsoka would bet her montrals that it did—the technology firm that belonged to the Techno Union seemed the most promising, given their association with the Separatists. So they headed to the factory headquarters on a moon in the Rasterous system.

The facility was built into the side of a mountain, massive slabs of stones carved from the subterranean plates dislodged by a crater. Not far away, Ahsoka could hear the rumble of conveyors and the endless grind of gears. The meteor that had caused the landform had been carrying kovjult, which was used in almost every piece of technology galaxy wide. Long ago, the inhabitants of a nearby planet had claimed mining rights to the valuable ore after a long, bloody war with their neighbors and then invited several major manufacturing plants to make the moon their home. Nowadays, massive mining setups on one side of the moon drilled the flatlands for the resource, which was shipped directly to the factories on the other side.

Saw’s tech had explained that the nano-droids that the company they were investigating manufactured were primarily sold to electronics companies that utilized them for the fabrication of comlinks, sensor arrays, semiconductors, and holotech. He had explained the process of it in detail, but most of it had gone over Ahsoka’s head. Not for the first time since they’d left Coruscant, she wished she could call Master Skywalker and get his thoughts—or better yet, that he were at her side. No matter the impossibility of the situation, Master Skywalker always knew what to do.

But all Ahsoka could do now was try to channel that willpower.

The company’s sales and operations staff worked in a tower on the southeast side of the campus, which at night was guarded by three patrols of five guards each. That alone made her suspicious—and then there was the fact that the guards were beings, not droids, which was certainly unusual for the Techno Union. Through her binocs, she noticed that they looked more grizzled than typical company security—with burn scars and those caused by vibroblades on their faces. And they were too silent as they walked to be anything other than trained killers. She exchanged a bemused glance with Rex. Most companies didn’t hire so much security, did they?

To minimize the possibility of being detected, they disposed of only the patrol manning the door to the tower, choosing to stick with stealth, despite their very 501st inclination to just storm the facility. The blueprints Jesse had rustled up had been slightly out of date, but the long corridor was still behind the main doors, and the alcoves had only been modified to reduce invisibility from the cameras that lined the ceiling. In here, the patrols were composed of solely security sentry droids.

“Is it just me, or does this feel like overkill for a private facility?” Rex asked in their private comm line as they hid and kept an eye on the time, waiting for the right moment to strike, just before the droids reported in to the security chief.

Beside him, Fives muttered into the line, “Eh, it’ll be a piece of jogan fruitcake,” and then, when the time was right, he moved out of his crouch and toward the droids, blasters activated.

Ahsoka grinned and withdrew a droid popper from her belt. “He’s got the right idea,” she said to Rex and Jesse, then leaped up to follow him.

When they had moved through the corridor and successfully neutralized all the droids, Ahsoka used the Force to undo the complicated locks on what had to be the data center at the end of the hall. She breathed a sigh of relief when she discovered Jesse’s holomap had been accurate and the room was filled with servers that should be capable of accessing the data they needed. With a flick of her wrist, the security camera overhead folded in on itself.

“All right, Jesse,” Rex said, not bothering to holster his blasters as he motioned them in, “you have twelve minutes before the guards are expected to report in again.”

“Got it,” Jesse said, slinging his cannon onto his back and prowling toward the control banks. Ahsoka joined him while Fives and Rex took up place by the door. Jesse plugged his personal terminal into the bank in the center and began slicing, flying through the customer order file directories with expertise.

Thankful for his deft skill, Ahsoka went through the database on a different console, looking for any suspicious orders or contacts that had been made in recent months. Their source had noted that in addition to being thoroughly regulated, the nano-droids were also a costly product to manufacture because they didn’t have long lives and had to be frequently replaced. That meant any delivery of nano-droids had to have been made shortly before the bombings began.

As Ahsoka and Jesse worked, they periodically pointed things out to each other, their fingers flying across their respective keyboards as they cross-referenced the data they came across. All the while, Jesse was copying selected portions of the database from the wall socket to his datastick. If only they’d had a droid and could retrieve the entire archive, Ahsoka thought, thinking sadly of R7, whom she’d had to leave behind in her escape.

To Fives, idle but for his pacing near the door with his weapons drawn, it must have felt like an eternity. “Any luck?” he repeated after another few minutes had passed. “Six minutes left.”

“We need more time,” Ahsoka said, harried. “Rex, you served on Tibrin, right? I’ve narrowed down my hits to that part of the Outer Rim. Have you heard of the Mustafar system?” It sounded familiar, but she couldn’t figure out why.

Rex tapped his blaster against his thigh in thought. “Atravis sector in the Western Reaches,” he said after a brief pause. “Seppie territory, the whole lot of it. High Command said trying to take it would be pointless, but Wolffe has long believed otherwise. Far as I remember, the system is known for its brutal mines, which are overseen by the Techno Union.”

“Well, that sems conspicuous,” Fives said.

“I mean, one corporation in the Techno Union could be shipping it to another,” Ahsoka pointed out, thinking hard. “That would be innocuous enough. But that’s not what’s recorded here. And we all know about Wat Tambor’s backhanded dealings. Jesse, you said this company is known to be a neutral one, right? Why would a neutral Techno Union company be sending nano-droids to a Separatist one?”

“Good point, Commander,” Rex said. “We’ll need to look further into this, but right now we’re running out of time. Jesse, finish collecting all the data you can, especially on those purchases Commander Tano mentioned. Fives, how are we doing on time?”

“Four minutes.”

Jesse cursed under his breath, tapping his terminal urgently. “Uh, actually, we might have less than that. I may or may not have just tripped an alarm.”

“Osik,” Ahsoka muttered. “Close out and let’s get out of here. Rex and Fives, you go ahead.” She watched them jog out the door, weapons brandished, and turned back to Jesse, who was typing furiously.

“Sorry, Commander.”

Ahsoka shook her head. “We were bound to run into trouble at some point,” she replied wryly. Down the hall, the sudden discharge of blaster fire could be heard. She drew her own blaster, the weight of it feeling strange in her hands after so many years of carrying lightsabers, and after a ponderous moment, unsheathed her new vibroblade as well. “Come on!” she hissed. “We need to go.”

“Just one more second, sir—”

“Jesse!”

At last, Jesse yanked the datastick out of its port. “Got it!” he said, his face bright with exhilaration as he tucked it into a safe compartment in his armor. He followed Ahsoka when she ran ahead and gestured for him to follow.

By the time they caught up with Fives and Rex, they had already run through several office towers and reached the main factory floor from the inside. Along their trail lay the bodies of the guards and battle droids who had tried to stop them, and all around them, the alarms in the facility were screeching.

“To the left!” Rex yelled over the comm line, following their holomap and leading them around several enormous machines. “Right! Right!”

As Ahsoka and Jesse brought up their rear, shooting the stragglers that came into view, Rex and Fives ducked behind a conveyer machine to strategize. They darted over to one of the blast doors that opened up to the outside, but when Rex slammed his palm onto the keypad, it didn’t budge.

Fives swore. “They’ve locked the place down.”

Ahsoka echoed his curses, glaring at the doors. It would be so easy to wrench them open, but... “Now that we’ve been discovered, I can’t risk using the Force. Jesse, can you slice it?”

Jesse was successful, but when the door slid open, it revealed six uniformed guards and four assassin-type droids waiting for them. By reflex, Ahsoka and the others flattened themselves against either side of the entrance, their weapons at the ready.

The leader ran in and began shooting, and Ahsoka instinctually leaped forward to deflect the shots, only to realize she couldn’t use her lightsabers—and didn’t even have them on her, for that matter. Without a word, the boys covered for her mistake, though, dragging her back to cover and darting out of their hiding spots to shoot back.

At their backs, a shocking number of battle droids was marching into the room, and Ahsoka leaped on top of one of the factory’s machines to dispose of the vanguard with droid poppers.

“Okay, I’m starting to think Rex was right about this being overkill!” Fives shouted over the comm line as he grabbed the scruff of two guards and knocked their heads into each other’s while dodging blaster bolts.

“They have to be hiding something!” Ahsoka agreed. “But for now—our priority is getting out of here.” Then: “I need more droid poppers over here, stat!”

Rex hopped onto machinery adjacent to hers and tossed her two of his own before chucking a series of them into the morass of battle droids. “It’s no good, Commander! They’ve got us cornered!”

There were simply too many of them. If they’d had two squads, or if she could've used the Force, it’d have been easy. But the risk of being discovered was too high, and it was just the four of them—not even a proper squad—and they were quickly being overwhelmed. If Ahsoka had been able to use her lightsabers and the others had been able to wear all their armor without arousing suspicion, it’d have been challenging but doable. They would be able to fight their way through the throng. But right now, they were at a disadvantage and on the defensive.

And then the situation got worse.

Amid the chaos, Ahsoka noticed too late: a sniper the guards had snuck up onto the platform from which the factory bosses watched the workers who toiled below, and he was looking down the barrel of his blaster at Fives, whose back was turned as he wrestled one of the guards and two of the clankers.

Before Ahsoka could do anything, he fired—and the world closed in.

Fury and terror surged through her body.

Not Fives.

Brave, strong, passionate Fives, who had discovered a dangerous truth and decided to take on those who had wronged him and his people.

Fives, who had set them on this path, who had gone to Ahsoka for help—and counted on her to have his back.

This ge’hutuun scum thought they could shoot him in the back?

She wouldn’t let them. She couldn’t.

She loved her brothers.

And she would do anything for them.

Anything.

Without conscious thought, Ahsoka reached out with both hands, and every being and every droid they were fighting at that moment was slammed into the nearest wall.

Glaring at them, she closed her hands into fists. Later, she would struggle to describe what happened next:

The beings trembled, shouting uselessly as they fought the invisible net that had ensnared them. And then the Force around them seemed to tremble and shake as it rushed toward Ahsoka like an unstoppable cyclone, and every being simultaneously seized where they lay prone. Pure, unfiltered power flooded her, and the volume and oil-slick darkness of it made her body feel as if it were coming apart at the seams. Shaking uncontrollably, she was barely able to suppress a scream.

Ahsoka blinked, and suddenly the world around her had disappeared. Somehow, she was crouching beneath a rock in a blizzard, a thick hood tied close to her face. Beside her webbed feet were the dying embers of a small fire, and the sight of it made her shudder in despair. When it expired, so would she.

Her teeth clacked together, and she looked up from the ground to see the inside of a sickbay. She was seated on a supremely uncomfortable plastic chair beside a hospital bed, her elbow on one of the arms and head slumped in her palm. In the bed, connected to a host of tubes, was a pale-looking S'kytri, and as Ahsoka took in the burns on zir body, guilt and longing and rage burned her like brand.

No—this didn’t make sense. This wasn’t who she was. Feeling as if she were drowning, sinking to the depths of an unfathomable ocean, Ahsoka shut her eyes, trying to fight it. When she opened them, she was on a battlefield, a heavy blaster in her hands, which were covered in fresh blood. Behind her, other Humans shrieked, helpless and dying. They were her people, and she had let them down. She was a failure, and with her dead, the village would be overrun, and the Republic would claim the forests—her heritage, her inheritance.

Tens of images flashed before her, each an agonizing scene populated with beings she didn’t recognize, even though she somehow seemed to know them. Her mind trembled beneath the weight of the visions, of a hundred terrible, anguished emotions that weren’t hers.

“What’s happening to me?” Ahsoka screamed, and her own voice echoed through her mind. When she shook her head in denial and looked back up, she was suddenly back in the factory.

New power sparked at her fingertips, glittering white hot. She lifted her hands, staring at them. She had never heard of any Jedi ability like this. It certainly felt like the Force, and yet there was a seductive edge to it, something not illuminated by the Light.

“C-Commander?”

Jesse’s familiar voice broke Ahsoka out of her reverie. She looked up and...that was when she saw it.

The entirety of the security force that had been assaulting them—battle droids and suspiciously well-trained beings alike—lay utterly still on the ground. There were no signs of injury on them—no blood, no sparks coming from them. It was as if they were merely sleeping or recharging, only Ahsoka could feel that they were gone in the Force.

It didn’t make any sense. How could she have eliminated the enemies so easily? She had nearly believed that she and the others would meet their ends here.

Eyes wide, Ahsoka turned to her men, wondering if she was hallucinating. They were frozen in shock, weapons still trained in every direction on the now dead guards.

“Uh, thanks, Commander,” Fives said breathlessly.

Rex’s eyebrows were raised so high they practically disappeared into his hairline. “I’ve never seen a Jedi do that before.”

“Well,” Ahsoka said, twisting her hands and staring bewildered at the pale, ghostly light shining through her skin, “I guess I’m not a Jedi anymore, am I?”

Chapter Text

“Your guilt does not define you. You define your guilt.”
—Illusion of Shmi Skywalker

Despite their surprising victory and escape from the Rasterous moon, Commander Tano had not shared the celebratory spirit of Fives and his brothers. Since their return to the ship, she had been hiding in the passenger cabin, either meditating or sleeping—and it wasn’t the light battlefield sleep they were all accustomed to, but a deep sleep from which she couldn’t be roused, as if she had finally run out of her endless store of energy. It didn’t help that she didn’t seem to have been eating, either.

Carrying a small box of rations—which practically constituted as a feast now that they no longer had access to Republic funds—Fives knocked on the cabin door. “Commander? You awake?”

The door slid open in answer, and Fives was faced with the sight of the Commander floating above the small space between the bunk and the wall, her legs crossed and hands on her knees.

“What is it, Fives?” she asked, voice a little cold, as it always was when a Jedi was pulled out of a meditative state.

“Sorry for the interruption, sir,” Fives said. He held up the box of rations. “I brought you latemeal.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“With all due respect, Commander,” Fives said, sitting on the bottom bunk and holding out the food, “you haven’t eaten a thing since we got back. You won’t do us any good if you starve yourself.”

Sighing, Commander Tano landed with a thump on the floor. Fives gestured to the space next to him on the bunk, and the Commander slumped onto the thin mattress, body curled in on itself where she sat. He handed her the box, which she put in her lap, but then she simply stared at it.

“What’s wrong, Commander? What aren’t you telling us?” When she still didn’t say anything, Fives laid a hand on her shoulder. “Hey. You can trust me, sir. You’ve been helping me carry my burden. Let me carry some of yours.”

Commander Tano bit her lip. “You know what happened at the factory? When I k-killed all those beings and droids?”

“’Course I do,” Fives said. “You saved us.”

The Commander shook her head. “That wasn’t... I didn’t mean to do it. I’ve never seen a Jedi do that before. I’ve never seen anyone do that. But it just happened. It was as if I somehow stole their lifeforce and consumed it all at once.” She shuddered. “I saw into their minds, and then when I opened my eyes again, they were all dead.”

When she put it like that, Fives did have to suppress a shiver. No matter how much time he had spent around Jedi, the Force was still a mystery to him—a beautiful, terrible mystery.

He thought back. “From our perspective, it looked like the shock wave from a seismic charge, and there were these streams of light connected to you. Almost as soon as it happened, it was over, and the enemies were down.”

“I don’t even know what it was or how I did it,” Commander Tano said. Quieter, she said, “I have no idea how to control it.”

I’m scared, is what Fives heard, and he exhaled, heart seizing with sympathy. They had both had to suppress their fright and feelings of helplessness as they were thrust into a world where they had to constantly adapt—and keep adapting, with no time to reckon with their ghosts and the hordes of unanswerable questions they had. The Commander shouldn’t have been expelled from the only home she had ever known, and Fives shouldn’t have been brought online at all, if his life’s only purpose was to gain his general’s trust and then betray him.

His voice softened. Although the Force was a mystery to him, he knew Commander Tano. “You did well, sir. The way I see it, you saved my life. Anything that helped you do that can’t be so bad in my book.”

“But what if it was a fluke?” Commander Tano covered her face. “What if I hurt you next time? What if I hurt civilians?”

Frowning, Fives thought about it. “Well, none of us were affected by it. Rex was up high, and Jesse and I were on the ground, and still the pulse and those streams passed right over us.” He squeezed her shoulder. “I don’t know anything about the Force, but it seems as if it knew who you were trying to protect. It knew your purpose.”

“Maybe,” the Commander said. “When I was meditating, the Force felt...closer, somehow. Easier to grasp. And different otherwise, too. Almost as if it sensed my emotions.” She sighed. “I have so many questions. But now there’s nobody left to answer me.”

“We may not be able to help you much with those,” Fives replied, “but we’re always going to be here for you, Commander. So don’t carry your burdens alone, okay? Lean on us when you need it, sir. You know we can take it.”

Commander Tano smiled for the first time he’d seen in days. “Only if you promise to stop covering my shifts.”

Fives rubbed the back of his neck. He hadn’t expected her to notice that. “You’ve got a deal, sir.”

“Thank you, Fives.”

“Don’t sweat it,” Fives said. “Hey, you’re the one I should be thanking, Commander. Without you, who knows what would’ve happened to me back on Rasterous—or even on Coruscant? It’s only because of your courage that we’re here today, sir. So believe in yourself, all right?”

When the Commander nodded trepidatiously, he thumped her shoulder and stood up. “I’m going to go see if Rex needs a break and grab my own latemeal. By the time I get back, you better have finished those rations.”

Commander Tano rolled her eyes and saluted him sarcastically. “Yes, sir!”

Commander Vex was furious, and Cody was much too exhausted for this conversation. He had already taken two stims at the beginning of the off-cycle, not at all eager to get started on the enormous pile of forms he needed to fill out before he tried to get some shut-eye, but he could swear they were already wearing off.

Vex jabbed a harsh finger into Cody’s chest plate and repeated for the tenth time since he had started his rant, “Your man didn’t use his karking brain and nearly got my boys killed. How am I supposed to trust him to lead on the ground? He’s just not ready for command, Cody.”

“You know as well as I do that we don’t have a choice,” Cody snapped. “Appo was our best option. I know Rex’s boots are difficult ones to fill, but we have to believe that Appo will grow into them. He obeys his orders and works well with General Skywalker, and that’s all I can afford to consider at this juncture.”

“I’ve been fighting the Seppies on this world for nearly two months now, vod,” Vex growled. “If we lose the Anaxes shipyards, we’ll be practically handing them the war. I don’t give a kriff about Appo’s future potential. All I care about right now is one, winning this osik’la campaign, and two, keeping as many of my men of the 187th alive as possible.”

“I understand, Vex,” Cody said with a sigh. “But I believe in Appo. Besides, we can’t afford to change leadership at this crucial moment, or we’ll risk losing all the progress we’ve made.”

Vex snorted. His fists were clenched at his sides. “What progress? I’m starting to believe we’re going to die on this world.”

Cody watched him stomp through the doors. When Vex was out of sight, he collapsed into his office chair.

Tensions were high as Anaxes continued to slip out of the Republic’s grip. The Senate, impatient about how long the war was dragging on, was pushing the GAR to its limit, and Cody didn’t know a single marshal commander who wasn’t struggling with directing massive, unwinnable campaigns. Even Bacara and Neyo, who never admitted to any weaknesses if they could help it, had seemed strained at their last meeting.

And as abrasive as Vex’s attitude tended to be, he wasn’t wrong. Appo had been promoted extraordinarily quickly, and being a sergeant and then a captain for a couple months was vastly different from being a commander. But Cody had believed that he showed a lot of promise, and General Skywalker had agreed, especially when it came to something as unwieldy as a months-long campaign.

Just because everyone was used to Rex being a wild card like his general and always pulling some kind of winning plan together at the last minute didn’t mean that was the only way a regiment should operate.

He groaned to himself. Now he was getting worked up, too.

First, he had to fill out all that paperwork. Then, he would go make sure General Kenobi wasn’t stubbornly avoiding sleep. After that, he would attempt to get some much-needed rest himself.

And tomorrow, he would rise to command another battle.

He felt like he was falling apart. But he had no choice but to keep going. The Republic was counting on him.

Rex had been the one to suggest it. At the start of the war, he and Master Skywalker had been sent to defend a populous Republic planet on which stood what Rex had initially assumed was a Jedi temple. But Master Skywalker had taught him the difference: While Jedi temples were built by the Jedi Order, Force temples were unaffiliated with the Order and were usually erected by beings who were not Force sensitive. Sometimes they only admitted beings from within the system, and other times they became a galaxy-wide pilgrimage site.

The Force temple closest to their location was on Yeosan, a planet that they deemed relatively safe, as it was a notable distance from the nearest hyperspace lane. Wetlands covered in red and pink grasses spanned the planet, which also contained a well-renowned trading post. Rex and Jesse volunteered to visit the post to barter for food, but when Ahsoka told Fives he should go with them, he refused.

“We’re not letting you go alone, Commander,” he said. “I’ll stand watch while you do what you need to in the temple.”

Ahsoka rolled her eyes good-naturedly. “I can take care of myself, boys.”

“We know,” Fives said, cheerful. “But just in case. ’Sides, I’m curious. Never been to any temples before, Jedi or otherwise.”

They left most of their armor and weapons behind and draped cloaks over what they did carry. Following a travel guide they’d found on the HoloNet, they made their way to the Force temple a few kliks out of town.

Shaped like the petals of a hiyale flower, the building stood alone in the middle of a marsh. Standing at the front of it were two tall stone statues of cloaked figures with their palms up. Ahsoka and Fives gazed up at them in awe as they walked under the entrance archway. In the high-ceilinged main room of the temple, there was a simple but large altar covered in still smoldering sticks of incense that gave off a mossy scent, and a small stream trickled on the ground before it. Beings were knelt before it, quietly murmuring. Around them stood temple guards, dressed in silvery robes that seemed to shimmer in the light of the torches in the room.

“Welcome to the Yeosan Temple of the Force,” one of them said, bowing to them, and Ahsoka and Fives returned the gesture.

“Thank you,” Ahsoka said, widening her eyes to play up her awe. “It’s a beautiful place. How long has it been here?”

“Over two thousand years,” the guard said. “It was built long before any of us came to be. They say there is a vergence in the land here, and when our ancestors discovered that concentration of the Force, they began to worship it. Nowadays, beings come here to feel closer to those who came before them, and the loved ones they’ve lost.”

“Wow,” Ahsoka said, “That’s really amazing. May we look around?”

“Of course,” the guard said.

“They’re not wrong. The Force really is strong here,” Ahsoka murmured to Fives.

Fives nodded. “Even I can feel it,” he said as he looked around.

He drifted toward the altar, and Ahsoka followed him. There, the voices of the temple visitors became more intelligible. “It’s a memorial for the fallen,” he realized.

Fives knelt. Bowing his head, he murmured the words that Ahsoka had heard hundreds of times by now: “Though I’m still here, you’ve already marched on. I remember you, so you are eternal. Droidbait, Cutup, Hevy...Denal...Ninety-nine...Colt, Havoc...Cameron, Flash...Charger...” His voice choked up as the names continued to fall from his lips in an endless march. “...Echo...”

To give him some privacy, Ahsoka took her time lighting four new incense sticks, watching the glowing patterns slowly appear along the handles. She knelt back beside Fives, whose mouth was still moving. Quietly, she handed him two of the sticks, which were now completely lit up, and began to recite her own remembrances under her breath.

When she finished, she sank into a meditative state. Since leaving Coruscant, she’d been having trouble with meditation, and doubly so after leaving the Rasterous moon. But being in a place so heavy with the Force made it a little more attainable. She pushed away every thought that fought its way through, focusing instead on her connection to the floor of the temple, the air in her lungs, the steady pulse of her heart. Gradually, Fives and the temple and the other beings around her faded away.

And then Morai came to her.

Since she had died on Mortis and then been brought back by her master, Ahsoka had been faintly aware of the Force creature watching over her. Although the little convor never spoke to her or interfered with anything, Ahsoka had been comforted to know that a remnant of the powerful light-side being remained with her.

Now, the convor hovered before her, chirping, before transforming into the Daughter. She was as beautiful as Ahsoka remembered, eyes bright and delicate curves awash in gold.

“Ahsoka Tano,” she intoned, her clear voice resonating through Ahsoka’s mind. “I have kept watch over you.”

“I am honored by your presence, my lady,” Ahsoka replied, bowing with one hand cupped around the other. “Thank you for your protection.”

The Daughter circled Ahsoka, her ethereal green hair floating behind her. Despite her gentle nature, her gaze was piercing. “Much has changed since the last time we spoke, youngling. I have heard you calling. What service may I offer?”

Since Rasterous—well, since Fives had told her about the conspiracy on Coruscant, really—Ahsoka had been begging the Force for help. She’d had no idea that it would reach the Daughter, but having an embodiment of the Light reach out to her wasn’t something she was going to take for granted.

“I’ve been feeling strange lately,” she confessed. “Anger rises within me and refuses to be tamed. I’ve applied everything I learned as a Jedi, yet I cannot push it away. I cannot stop the tide.”

“This isn’t the first time in your life that you’ve felt anger,” the Daughter pointed out. “Or passion. Or love.”

“Of course not.” Ahsoka started pacing. “But in the past, I would meditate and try to distance myself from the overwhelming emotions. To let go, as all Jedi are taught to from the creche. But since leaving Coruscant... No matter how hard I try, I cannot cleanse myself of it.” She bowed her head. “And because of my weakness...there have been dangerous consequences.”

The Daughter’s voice was gentle. “When the Chosen One brought you back to life on Mortis, what remained of me could not heal you entirely. In your current state, you are not without scars—holes in places that were previously connected to the Light. When you left the Jedi Order, you opened the door to a new path. Your mind is no longer limited by the same constraints it once was. The seeds of darkness that have long been planted within you have begun to bloom.”

Ahsoka froze, suddenly remembering what her future self had said in the vision she’d had on Mortis. “You mean the Dark side,” she said, bristling at the accusation. “The Dark side is in me? You lie.”

“It is in many people, though they may not ever know it.”

Ahsoka shuddered as she thought of her fights with Count Dooku and Asajj Ventress, and when she’d had to protect Jesse’s mind against Palpatine’s overwhelming power, as well as the other Dark side users she had only heard terrifying tales about. When she had gone to the Jedi Library to research the Sith and their objectives, her blood had run cold at the macabre thought that one of them could be in charge of the Republic.

Now, the thought that she had the potential to turn into that made her stomach churn. “But I’ve done everything the Jedi have taught me! Even if I am no longer part of the Order, I have no intention of ever using the Dark side. I would rather die than become anything like those monsters!”

The Daughter seemed almost indifferent, and it made Ahsoka feel feeble and stupid. “Yet use it you have. For what you call the Force is not so simple as Light and Dark, wicked and pure.”

Ahsoka crossed her arms. “But you’re the Daughter! You told me you were a manifestation of the Light side. How can you say the Dark side of the Force is not evil?”

“My brother and I were simply facets of the Force,” the Daughter replied, turning away from Ahsoka to stare out into the abyss. “Neither of us were superior to the other. That was what my brother began to believe, and it was his folly.”

“No,” Ahsoka said harshly. “No, I refuse to believe it. The Dark side only corrupts! I refuse to succumb.”

The Daughter turned back to her. “There is another way,” she said. “But the path is difficult. Over the course of history, few have achieved it.”

“Tell me,” Ahsoka pleaded.

“In the past, there have at times been those who walked the line between Light and Dark. Most were Light users who learned to draw on the Dark at times—but never fell to it. A notable few have been Dark users who managed to partially return to the Light. They used the darkness inside them to their advantage, but they did not allow it to consume them.

“I cannot be sure, but there is a possibility that because of my life force that lives within you, you will be able to better resist the Dark and prevent yourself from Falling.” The Daughter scrutinized her, her stare seeming to see right through Ahsoka. “If you are capable of such a feat, youngling, then you will be more powerful than you would have been, had you remained in the Light. Still, the risk is high. You must understand that you will never again fully return to the Light—and that if you misuse the power and disrupt the balance within you, your fate will be sealed.”

“I understand.” Ahsoka bowed her head. The way the Daughter had said it, the way her future self had said it—it sounded like it had already been a long time since she had stood entirely in the Light. Perhaps, over the course of the war, the Sith had influenced her somehow, tainted her, and she needed to be cleansed. Or perhaps it was the Will of the Force, and this had always been her path.

Regardless, she would learn to rein in these frightening powers. She would learn control. She would not let the powers use her—and then she would use the powers to take down the Sith and save everyone she loved.

“Will you teach me, my lady?”

When Fives finished reciting his remembrances, he felt lighter. He set the incense sticks Commander Tano had given him onto the trough of purple soil on the altar, alongside all the others. Beside him, the Commander was completely still, eyes closed and breath even.

Worn out by his list of the deceased, Fives crossed his legs and matched her draws of breath. Something thick and cloying in the air made his eyes droop.

He’d had no intention of falling asleep, but he must have, because he dreamed of a massive detonation: towers crumbling, bright explosions being set off one after another, the sky lit up and vengeance molten in his heart.

Then it was the shuttle explosion at the Citadel, in which he had lost Echo. Sick terror clogged his throat, and he ran toward the blast, desperate to find his riduur amid the rubble. He would do anything to find him. He would do anything to take his place, to allow Echo to be the one who had lived.

Inexplicably, he was stopped by Commander Fox, whose blaster was drawn and pointed at him. Fox fired, his face hidden behind his bucket, and Fives collapsed, shouting as he realized too late that the blaster wasn't set to stun. As he clutched the bolthole in his chest, Palpatine’s face swum before him, cackling.

“Fives... Fives, wake up!”

Fives opened his eyes and blinked past the tears. “C-Commander? Sorry, I...I didn't mean to fall asleep.”

Commander Tano was crouching beside him, a gentle hand on his arm. “That's okay. I know you've been exhausted. Did you have a bad dream?”

Fives’s head hurt. “Something like that, sir,” he said, gripping his forehead.

The Commander helped him up. Fives shuddered as he recalled that final image of the Chancellor. He’d had piercing yellow eyes and a grotesque smile, and Fives hadn’t been able to breathe. He’d felt the same back in the Chancellor’s office, when Palpatine had gleefully showed him his horrifying plans and then, without missing a beat, framed him for assassination, going from maniacal to seemingly helpless in the span of seconds. A chill ran down his spine at the memory. Palpatine had so easily manipulated him into reacting exactly how he wanted him to. Every step of their interaction had been plotted out.

What if everything they had done to protect themselves from him had been planned out, too? What if there was no winning against someone so ready for every possibility? Fives shuddered. The thought that they still hadn’t escaped the spider’s net—that every one of their moves had already been accounted for—haunted him. The idea that he was leading his brothers and the Commander in an unwinnable fight was nauseating.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” the Commander asked again.

“Don’t worry about me, sir,” Fives said, plastering a reassuring smile on his face despite his uneasiness. “All this Force stuff is probably just giving me a headache.”

Commander Tano chuckled. “Honestly? Me too, Fives. Me too.” She put an arm around his back, and he examined her.

“You look better, though, sir," he said. “Did you find what you were looking for?”

“That remains to be seen," the Commander said with a sigh. “But it's a start.”

“Good," Fives said. “I'm glad, Commander.”

Commander Tano smiled. “Thanks for your company, Fives. You wanna get out of here?”

Fives nodded, relieved. Maybe this place was just getting to him, and once he was away from it, he would stop feeling this itchy, restless anxiety. “Lead the way, Commander.”

Slumped into the co-pilot seat, Jesse sighed, running a hand through his hair. He was still unused to the curls that his fingers snagged on.

Since leaving the Yeosan system, they had been holed up in the ship for nearly a week, carefully navigating toward Kamino with sporadic hyperspace jumps to keep any pursuers on their toes. So far so good, but he was starting to get restless. Back in the GAR, and even as a cadet in Tipoca City, they had rarely gotten a moment’s peace, and he supposed he was used to it. Not doing anything made him feel jumpy, like he had to constantly look over his shoulder to make sure there wasn’t some hidden threat he should be dealing with.

They kept the Republic HoloNet playing at almost all hours, eager to know what was happening on the battlefronts in their absence. Jesse thought of Kix and how strained he had looked on their last call. Just because the vod’e had been bred for stamina didn’t mean they lacked breaking points, and Jesse was terrified that Kix would be too exhausted to watch his six. Now that Torrent Company was dominated by shinies, who at this point were being put on the battlefield at seven or eight karking years old, he found it even harder to trust that someone else would protect his bondmate.

Jesse sighed again, and to his left, Rex shot him a sympathetic look. “Hey, you should go get some rest, Jesse.”

“My shift’s not over yet.”

Rex gestured to the autopilot module that had been engaged ever since they entered a hyperspace lane. “I’ll be fine. But you look exhausted. If I need anything, I’ll let you know.”

Jesse stood up. “Well, all right. I could use a kip. Thanks, sir.”

After his nap, he did his daily exercises, or at least the ones he could with his arm injury. He hadn’t needed the extra workout since he was a cadet, all his time on the battlefield keeping him plenty fit, but without constant action, he feared getting out of shape. They were on their own out here, and nobody else was going to watch their backs.

For a while, he lost track of time, focused only on the repetition of his movements, the steady rhythm calming him and sharpening his mind. Just as the pain in his arm was getting too sharp, the door slid open, and he leaned back into a crouch and looked up. Fives was in the doorway, hair sticking up in every direction from the force of the sonics, clearly having come from the refresher.

After he slipped into his blacks, he watched Jesse fumble with removing his bacta bandages for a moment before taking pity on him and grabbing the medkit from him.

Jesse yelped as the dried bandages were yanked off his raw skin. That stung.

“Sorry, vod,” Fives said. “You’re probably used to Kix’s gentle care.”

Jesse laughed. “You must have spent very little time in his medbay if you’re saying that.” He looked down at his arm and winced at the state of the wound. “Kriff.”

“You gotta be more careful,” Fives said gruffly, puncturing the vacuum-sealed pack of new bacta bandages and winding them around Jesse’s forearm. The cooling sensation of fresh bacta was a relief.

“Says the most reckless one on the team.”

Fives huffed. “Have you met the Commander?”

“You’ve got a point,” Jesse said dryly. He got to his feet and sprawled out on the lower bunk, his muscles aching pleasantly. “Thanks, brother.”

He picked up his datapad from its abandoned spot in the covers and pulled up the files Kix had sent him. Ever since he had received the transmission, he had been trying to figure out what the other slicers had missed. Surprisingly, perusing the data they’d collected from the Techno Union factory’s databanks on the Rasterous moon had helped. While working on the projects in tandem, he'd unexpectedly realized that the style of Kix’s transmission matched that of the Techno Union. Some further digging had revealed the Techno Union’s standard pattern of encryption, and he’d used that to pull apart the files Kix had sent.

Now, he replayed the sound that accompanied the bewildering signal again, frowning down at the code. This piece in particular reminded him of tactical droids’ code, but there had to be more to it—something they were all missing.

The room was too quiet.

When Jesse looked up, Fives was standing just inside the cabin door, staring at the datapad like a tooka in headlights. “What is that?” he asked, every muscle in his body tense.

Jesse tilted his head. He explained the situation the 501st was in, and how Kix distressed had been, and how he had sent him the files as a last-ditch effort. “It’s all somehow tied to this signal. But I can’t figure it out,” he added, frowning. “It’s weird—it almost sounds like a voice.”

Fives hadn’t twitched one bit at his words; he seemed to have barely registered them.

Puzzled, Jesse sat up. “Fives? Why are you looking at my ’pad like that?”

“You’re right,” Fives said faintly. From his body language, it was easy to see that he was one step away from bolting. He choked out, “It’s a voice. I know it—it’s Echo’s.”

Jesse reeled back and made a noise of surprise, eyes wide as he stared down at his datapad, then back at Fives, who was sheet white, his expression filled with horror. What?

“Echo’s dead, vod,” Jesse said. But everyone, most of all Fives, knew that. Friendly, rambunctious Fives had returned from the Citadel a shell of himself, hollow-eyed and barely present, and quick to temper. He had never been the same after that mission. Echo had been his batcher and his ARC partner and his bondmate. Jesse couldn’t imagine losing Kix like that and being forced to leave his body behind, without an opportunity to say goodbye, and uncertain if it’d been blown to pieces. Tears welled up in his eyes at the mere thought.

Fives returned to his side, moving as if in water, as if each step was agonizing to take. Up close, Jesse could see that his hands were trembling. He grasped Fives’s wrist with the hand of his good arm and squeezed it to try to ground him.

“I thought so, too,” Fives said quietly. Unconsciously, he echoed Jesse’s thoughts: “But we never saw a body. We never had the chance.” He stiffly motioned to the datapad. “If you can receive the signal, can you send something back?”

“I can try,” Jesse said. He’d have to make sure not to trip anything in the other direction.

“Ask him who he is,” Fives said, like every other word was difficult to get out. Jesse obeyed, and they were quiet for a moment as he worked, cursing under his breath at his suddenly clumsy fingers.

“C...C...” Fives wasn’t wrong. It really did sound like a voice, though it had a droid-like chittering quality, sounding almost mechanic. “C...T...”

They exchanged a troubled look. That sounded like a clone designation. Could it be?

Fives shuddered, gripping Jesse’s wrist back and squeezing it so hard his fingers turned pale.

“Turn it up,” he ordered. Jesse nodded and adjusted the volume.

“C...T...four...oh...”

“CT-40?” Jesse murmured. That was an unusual designation. All the brothers from that range had been killed before he was even decanted.

“Four...teen...oh...”

Fives inhaled sharply, gripping Jesse’s arm.

“Oh...nine...CT, CT. CT...fourteen...oh...nine.”

Fives staggered, gasping for breath. “Echo... 1409, that’s his designation. It’s him. It’s really him.”

In shock, Jesse stared at the datapad. The code being transmitted was undoubtedly written in the style of a droid, almost like the simple input of an astromech’s scomp. Why would a clone trooper write like that? And although Jesse hadn’t known him very well before his death, everyone had always referred to Echo as more of a strategist than a slicer.

Fives slumped onto the bunk, hands covering his face. “Where’s the signal coming from?” he asked urgently. He was practically vibrating out of his skin.

Jesse flicked at his datapad and located the coordinates on a holomap. “It says Skako Minor. That’s the Techno Union planet, right? Looks like they’ve been hiding more than one thing from us.”

“I don’t know,” Fives said, worrying at his lip. “Osik, I don’t know. But we need to go there right away.”

Jesse had expected nothing less. If it had been Kix, nothing and nobody could have stopped him from going after his riduur, especially after he had mourned his death—no matter what other duties he had. “We’ll let Rex and the Commander know as soon as we can,” he assured him.

Fives sucked in a breath and nodded, though his arms were wrapped tightly around his middle. Jesse knew that look, had seen it too many times on the brothers who hovered outside Kix’s medbay—guilt and terror and self-loathing. His eyes shone with unshed tears.

“Hey,” Jesse said gruffly, tugging him into a loose embrace. Fives pressed his face into Jesse’s shoulder and shuddered. Curling a hand into Fives’s hair, the strands still so much shorter than he was used to, Jesse held him as he shook.

Fives whispered, desolate, “I left him. I left him. I left him.”

“You didn’t have a choice,” Jesse reminded him. “It’s not your fault.”

“I swore to always care for him and have his back, and I karking left him with—with shabuire like the Techno Union!”

“You didn’t know, Fives,” Jesse said, rubbing his back. “There was no way for you to know.”

“What’s happened to him? What have I done?” Fives gasped, unhearing. Tears slipped down his stark face. “How long has he been alone? What have I done?”

“It’s going to be okay, vod,” Jesse said. “We’re going to do what we can for him, and it’s going to be okay.”

“We have to,” Fives choked out. “We have to save him.”

“We will,” Jesse assured him, pressing his cheek to the crown of Fives’s head. He let Fives cling to him. “We will, Fives.”

But he’d heard about what had happened at the Citadel. They used to say that no one escaped from Lola Sayu. Fives, along with General Skywalker, General Kenobi, Commander Cody, Captain Rex, and Captain Tarkin had proved otherwise on that fateful mission. But the security of their lives had come at the cost of so many brothers’ deaths, and even a Jedi as powerful as General Piell had perished in that accursed place. It was the kind of world where beings went to die. It was a death trap.

So, as he held Fives and tried to yield him comfort, Jesse couldn’t help but silently wonder:

Yeah, they could go to Skako Minor. They could face the Techno Union. And he would do it for Fives, who, over the years, had become one of his closest friends—who had trusted him with the difficult truth when the time had come.

But once they got there—what were the chances there would be anyone left to save?

Chapter Text

“That’s how we’re gonna win. Not fighting what we hate—saving what we love.”
—Rose Tico

The morning of their mission to Skako Minor, Fives got dressed slowly and methodically: his blacks, his civvies, selected components of the shiny’s armor he’d stolen on Kamino—which they’d since painted over—and a gray coat that obscured the holsters for his heavy blaster pistols.

He double-checked the charges and loaded the pockets of his belt with droid poppers, then tore the wrapper off what remained of the ration bar that had been his latemeal the day before. His boots were second to last, the hide still a strange contrast to the plastoid he was accustomed to, followed by the bounty hunter helmet that covered half his face.

“You ready, vod?”

Rex was getting ready beside him in the passenger cabin, also disguised as a bounty hunter but wearing thick goggles with mirrored lenses, a drab olive poncho, and a hat with a bill that obscured his face. He had foregone most of his armor but for the arm guards, shin guards, and chest piece, as well as his utility belt. His GAR-issue pistols were encased in civilian holsters, and he was loading thermal detonators into a carrysack.

Fives took a deep breath, then let it out. Echo. They were going to save Echo.

He grit his teeth against the guilt that surged within him at the reminder that Echo must have been scared and alone all this time, waiting for a rescue that had never come.

Waiting for the riduur who had never come.

“I am,” he said, though his voice betrayed him by wobbling.

Rex clapped a hand on his shoulder. “We’re going to get him back,” he said. His confidence and conviction steeled Fives’s resolve.

Behind them, the door slid open to reveal the Commander, who was wearing a spacer’s jacket with a deep hood over a mechanic’s jumpsuit with a leg holster. Her new vibroblade was strapped onto her back, the edge lit with blue. “You boys ready?”

“Ready, Commander,” Rex said. They followed her to the cockpit, where she exchanged places with Jesse to guide them through the stormy atmosphere of Skako Minor.

“You might want to strap in for this one,” she said, and they all hurried to comply.

The Commander was right: It was a rocky journey, but her careful maneuvering guided them through the turbulence and brought them in for a relatively smooth landing in a fungal forest. Fives hoped the ship would be safe—they were going to need a quick getaway once they had retrieved Echo. At least the native species that lived on the other side of the outskirts of Purkoll didn’t seem to have flight-capable vehicles yet.

After strapping on respirators, they exited into the planet’s thick, syrupy atmosphere. The sunlight that filtered through the low-hanging clouds was a sickly yellow. The air smelled of something foul, and Fives immediately missed the filters on his old bucket.

“Ugh,” Jesse said, scrunching up his face as they trudged through the mud. “Couldn’t Echo have gotten stuck on Scarif instead?”

Their landing point was five klicks from the Techno Union headquarters, a complex formed of several skyscraping towers that Fives could see through his macrobinoculars The group moved in anxious silence but for Jesse’s instructions, based on the readings on his terminal.

The entire time, Fives’s heart was in his throat at the thought that he might find Echo here—that they might already be feeling the same gravity, breathing the same air. This was no place for a vod, but Fives had let Echo be captured, had left him for dead.

No brother left behind—he had disregarded that tenet the first time Domino Squad took the final exam on Kamino. Now he understood it with his entire being.

His guilt warred with his worry that Echo being alive was too good to be true, and he could be leading his brothers and the Commander into a trap set by either the Separatists or Palpatine himself—or any of the number of beings who’d been hired to hunt them down.

As if on cue, Jesse stopped, staring at his terminal with his brow furrowed.

Commander Tano paused, too. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

“I lost the signal,” Jesse said, fiddling with the controls.

“What do you mean lost?” Fives snapped, fear and anxiety squeezing his heart. Jesse growled at the terminal. “You said it was coming from the city.”

“We’ll continue in the same direction,” Rex said. “But get the signal up and running as soon as possible, Jesse. We can’t afford to waste any time on this planet.”

“Yes, sir,” Jesse mumbled as he pulled out his datapad.

While he worked, Commander Tano passed around a thermajug of vaporator water, her expression tight.

“We must be prepared for the possibility that this is a trap,” she said.

Fives shook his head in disbelief, putting aside his paranoid misgivings. “It’s Echo. The signal is being sent by him—I know it. He’s alive.”

“We have to find out for sure, or we’ll never forgive ourselves,” Rex said. “But if we’ve been tricked, we’ll need to retreat immediately. I’m counting on each and every one of you to make it out.”

Fives nodded, though he knew he wouldn’t be able to leave until he had scoured every centimeter of the Techno Union’s facilities for a clue about Echo’s fate.

“Got it!” Jesse announced, triumphant, and Fives sighed in relief. “Think the atmosphere might be disrupting the transmission.”

“Do what you can to keep the signal steady,” Rex ordered.

Commander Tano was staring up at the sallow sky, where giant, flying creatures were soaring overhead. Atop them were the native folks of the region. “We’re being watched,” she said. “Better move quickly, in case they’re looking for trouble.”

They followed Jesse to the base of one of the towers. The top of it was invisible through the thick hang of clouds, and on the bottom floor was an intimidating set of blast doors with an unusual security system that evoked neither Republic nor Separatist tech.

Jesse winced. “Can’t guarantee I can slice this without setting off any alarms.”

“I’ve got this,” the Commander said, and Jesse stepped aside to give her space as she concentrated and waved a careful hand over the door pad.

Fives scanned the area. They had managed to evade the patrolling droids so far, and he prayed they would be able to continue avoiding detection.

The doors slid open, and Rex darted into the turbolift. He beckoned them in, and the Commander brought up the rear.

“Remember the plan,” she said as the lift rocketed into the sky. “This is a stealth op. We need to be in and out as quickly as possible, and the goal is to avoid alerting the Techno Union of our presence—the later they realize we’re here the better.”

“Yes, sir,” they chimed in unison.

Fives checked his blaster charges and the settings, missing his treasured pistols. Beside him, Jesse was steeling his shoulders, having exchanged his terminal for his new rifle. Rex had one of his DC-17s in his right hand and a light repeating blaster in his left, and the Commander’s A-180 blaster was clicking to life.

Fives exhaled. They were some of the top soldiers of the Grand Army of the Republic, and they had gone on thousands of missions just like this. The details might be different, but a fight with clankers was a fight with clankers. They could do this.

The turbolift doors slid open.

“Hey! Who are you?” one of the strange-looking droids on the platform demanded.

Moving swiftly, the Commander shot it in the head. Fives and Jesse dropped droid poppers to take out the squads by the hangar opening, and Rex expertly took out the patrol approaching from farther inside the base before they could cross the threshold.

The Commander floated a pile of the droids out the hangar opening and dropped them down into the open sky. “We should dispose of them so there’s no obvious evidence of us being here.”

“Good idea, sir,” Jesse said, hauling two droids over his shoulders.

While the others got rid of the remaining bodies, Fives guarded the door that led out of the hangar and through to the rest of the base. He pressed his ear against the door, listening for telltale footsteps.

Once the evidence of their presence was eliminated, they slipped through the door, which opened back outside. The moment they stepped onto the platform, the strong winds buffeted them, harsh and unforgiving.

Before them stood an even more unforgiving sight: that of a long, thin pipe that connected the hangar to the main tower of the base.

“Okay, I’ll admit it,” Jesse said. “This is a little narrower than it looked in the blueprints.”

“Come on, vod,” Fives teased, elbowing him, “you’re not afraid of heights, are you?”

Rex took the lead, as he always did, and Fives followed him, shuffling over the foreboding chasm, one foot in front of the other.

Bringing up the rear, Commander Tano said lightly, “Don’t worry, boys. I’ll catch you if you fall.” Her footsteps were light and steady.

Dryly, Rex said, “With all due respect, Commander, I’d rather fall off of here than be flung into the air ever again.”

Fives snorted, remembering all the times the Commander and the General had used the Force to throw Rex out of the way of a detonator blast. Rex had a bit of a complex about it.

“For the record, sir,” Jesse said, “I’m happy to be flung however high you deem appropriate, so long as it saves my shebs.”

Despite their bantering, they made it to the other side without incident, and Fives breathed a sigh of relief when he once again stood on solid ground. “What now?” he asked.

Jesse was tapping at his terminal again. “Now we make our way to the ventilation corridor and pray to the brothers afar that we don’t run into anyone.”

The vents were larger than Fives had expected, tall hallways where they could walk without crouching. Their temperature was noticeably cooler than the rest of the building’s, and the air hummed with the sound of thousands of computers.

“Kriff, I lost the signal again,” Jesse grumbled as he led them around a corner.

“C’mon, vod, we’re counting on you,” Fives said, antsy. The longer he spent in this place, the more uneasy he was feeling. Echo was here somewhere, in need of their help—help he’d been waiting much too long for—and every second wasted made his stomach churn in bitter dread.

“It’s not me,” Jesse said defensively. “And this facility is atmo-regulated, so that can’t be the issue either. The signal drops are inconsistent, too. It’s as if I can only catch the signal when the source is transmitting its output.”

While Jesse tried to figure out a solution, Fives prowled ahead in the corridor. He was feeling a strange tug in that direction, as if something was calling to him.

“Fives,” Rex called after him. “We can’t afford to split up.”

Fives ignored him and kept walking. He could sense Commander Tano behind him and resisted the urge to protest that he wasn’t a tubie who needed surveillance.

As he wallowed in his indignation, the tug in his gut intensified, and Fives paused in recognition. “There’s something below us,” he said over his shoulder. “I think this is where they’re keeping Echo.”

Commander Tano frowned. “How can you tell?”

“No idea, sir,” Fives said. “I just know. Like when I was on Kamino and knew the long-necks were hiding something, or on Umbara, when I had a feeling Krell was up to no good the moment he joined us.” He sighed. “Haven’t been wrong yet.”

Commander Tano gave him a considering look. “Let’s check it out,” she said. “You get this hatch open. I’ll get Rex and Jesse.”

Fives pried open the hatch and slid down the vent shaft. Through another hatch door was the massive, dome-shaped room below, and the twinge in Fives’s stomach confirmed that he had come to the right place.

He took a closer look. Enormous, blinking energy cords lined the floors of the chamber, providing the room’s only source of lighting. Here, the air was even colder than in the corridors Fives had just come from, and a strange, sickly smell lingered in the air. There was no sign of life, just a deep thrumming noise emanating from the center of the room, where an arcing console stood, bracketed by taslo columns, on which purple sparks jumped from one coil to another. Above the console was what appeared to be a...cryochamber?

He jumped down from the hatch.

“Fives!” the Commander hissed behind him. But he ignored her.

There was someone inside the cryochamber. It was impossible to see through the thick frost within, but Fives could sense it. Something within the coffin-shaped chamber still lived. Can it be?

Hurry, he signed up into the hatch, and a moment later, the others were landing gracefully beneath it.

“Karking hells,” Rex said, swinging his head between Fives and the cryochamber. “Fives, you think...”

“I’m sure of it,” Fives said numbly.

Rex nodded, and then, without hesitation, ordered, “Jesse, get that stasis chamber open.” Fives knew him well enough to hear the dual anxiety and cautious hope in his voice.

“I’m on it, sir,” Jesse said.

“I’ll guard the door,” Commander Tano said, stationing herself at the entrance to the lab while Jesse worked on accessing the console.

Fives leaped up onto the console, peering into the white nothingness behind the cryochamber’s glass. Worries raced through his mind: What if Echo wasn’t here? What if they had been deceived? What if Echo truly was gone forever, and Fives would still never get to say goodbye?

“Echo,” he murmured, pressing his forehead to the window in a weak parody of a clone kiss. “Please. Forgive me for taking so long. Come back to me, love. Please.”

Time seemed to slow to a crawl as he hovered there, helpless, clinging to a sliver of hope while Jesse worked. Fives was no slicer, and to him it looked as if Jesse were frantically trying random buttons, eyes darting between the pod and the console. But there must have been some method to it, because eventually, he exclaimed triumphantly, “There!”

That was all the warning Fives had before the cryochamber was sliding open, and a shape was falling out of the pod, limp like an abandoned puppet. Commander Tano gasped, audible all the way from where she was standing by the room’s entrance.

Fives’s heart was in his throat as he caught the figure in his arms. They were unimaginably thin, forearms barely half the size of Fives’s, and their skin was pale and gray—the color of brothers gone.

With his brain feeling like it was swimming through Kashyyykian syrup, it took Fives a moment to realize that the being in his arms felt so cold because their limbs were made of metal.

“It’s him,” Rex said, stunned. He sounded very far away. “Fives, we’ve got to get him out of there. Fives! You hear me, vod?” Quieter, he said, “Jesse, figure out how to unplug him from—from this mess.”

Fives looked down at the being he held in his arms, and he could hardly get the words out: “Echo,” he whispered, terror welling up in his throat. Carefully, he knelt, delicately cradling what remained of his riduur, and Rex’s sure hands helped guide them both to the ground.

The tangle of cords that had been connected to Echo fell back into the chamber with a sick slap. He didn’t seem to recognize them, instead staring blankly into the distance. His unblinking eyes were twitching, irises rapidly darting back and forth, the hum of the computers attached to him like screeches to Fives’s ears.

He pressed their foreheads together, lungs suddenly struggling to get air. The frost clinging to Echo was melting, making his skin feel unnaturally clammy, and he was so gaunt Fives could feel too much of his skull. Down here, Fives could see him better: Eerily neat lines of implants protruded from the back of his head, wrapping around the sides. The metal he’d felt was of the crude prostheses that his legs and his right arm had been fitted with.

“Echo,” Fives repeated, clinging to him as if he might disappear any moment.

Rex had knelt down beside them. “What have they done to you?” he whispered.

Fives was almost afraid to ask the question: “Echo, do you... Do you remember us?”

At the console, Jesse flicked something, and the machinery’s beeps and hums quieted. Echo lurched, and his eyes stopped twitching, instead blinking in quick succession before relaxing. Then he scanned the room urgently.

“We—we have to get to the shuttle to escape the Citadel,” Echo said, panic evident in his voice. “No! I’ll go first.”

Fives’s heart broke. For over a year, he had believed those to be Echo’s last words to him, selfless as he always was. To hear them again brought back all the nightmares he’d been tormented with ever since he had left the Citadel, all his regret, all his useless wishing that he could trade places with Echo and allow him to live in his stead.

Fives exchanged a horrified look with Rex and cradled the back of Echo’s neck, protecting it from being slammed into the console behind him as he flailed in distress.

“Echo,” he said gently. “Echo, it’s Fives, and Rex. We’re here. You’re not alone. You’re safe, love.”

“No,” Echo gasped. Then he suddenly looked right at them both, head swinging back and forth. His hand rose to cup Fives’s face.

Fives tried not to shiver at the stinging cold, because it was Echo. After all this time, it was Echo, who was always his beginning and end.

“Fives? Rex? You—you came back for me?”

Something in Fives shattered at how shocked Echo sounded at the idea. He put his own hand over Echo’s and brought their foreheads together again. His eyes were watering, and, when he opened his trembling mouth to answer, no words came out.

“Yes,” Rex answered for him, his voice shaking, too. “Yes, we did.”

“Wh-what happened? Where am I? And what the kriff are you two wearing?”

Fives couldn’t help choking out a laugh. It was Echo all right. “It’s a long story,” he muttered.

Smiling, Rex put a hand on Echo’s shoulder, leaning close. “It’s okay, Echo,” he murmured, and Fives was struck by a tide of gratitude. Rex always knew what to say. “You’re safe now,” he continued. “Just sit tight, trooper. You’re going home.”

“Already home,” Echo said muzzily. “Fives is here.” At the tender way he spoke his name, the tears welling up in Fives’s eyes slid down his cheek.

“That’s right,” he replied, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m here, Echo. I’ll never leave you again.”

He gestured at Rex, and together they hoisted Echo up. Fives held him, shocked at how light he felt, all the muscles ARC training had built gone. A different kind of weight had replaced it, a mechanical one with a tangle of cables—but it was still so slight. What had been done to him? Why had he been kept here, plugged in like a machine? Why had he been immobilized and then hung up in a coffin, as if he were a prize?

He shook his head, shoving down his anger. Echo was here. Echo was alive. He remembered himself. And he remembered them. That was what mattered—the rest could wait.

As they made their way out of the room, Fives turned his head to see Commander Tano staring at the console. She lifted her hand, palm facing upward, then made a flipping motion, and the console and the cryochamber crumpled, twisted beyond recognition. With another swipe of her hand, the warped metal crashed into the taslo columns and its energy coils, smoke and sparks rising in the room. The long lines of light on the floor began to flicker in warning.

“Never again,” she hissed, cold and furious, as she finally turned away.

“Good thinking, Commander,” Rex said, and stealth be damned, chucked a thermal detonator into the fray for good measure.

For the first time in over a year, Fives felt hope swell within him, like the first sunrise after a long polar winter. He shifted Echo into his arms, cradling him carefully. Echo stared up at him, as if he couldn’t believe Fives was really there. As if he feared he wasn’t—as if he had imagined this scenario so many times and been let down over and over again.

As they exited the lab that had so obviously served as Echo’s torture chamber, Fives bowed his head, once again brushing his forehead against Echo’s, and began to cry.

As they exited the lab, a voice came from the circular screen beside the door, the swirling picture resolving into the unmistakable face of Wat Tambor. “You have stolen my asset!”

“I think you mean your prisoner of war,” Fives retorted, shielding Echo with his body.

“Prisoner?” Wat Tambor replied. “I don’t know what you mean. You have stolen the property of the Techno Union.”

“He’s not your property,” Rex growled. “He’s our brother. And we’re leaving with him, no matter what.”

Wat Tambor narrowed his eyes. “Your ‘brother’ is dead. His mind is ours.”

Commander Tano bared her fangs at Tambor. “You’re wrong,” she said. “And we will make you regret your monstrous actions. Do not try to stop us.” She fired a decisive bolt at the screen, and it flickered off, smoke emanating from its shattered center.

“I know this was a stealth op, sir,” Rex said quietly, his fists clenched around his pistols, “but—the Techno Union, they—“

“I know,” the Commander said. The air around her was tight and suffocating, and it reminded Rex of General Skywalker, when he was angry enough that the lights around him would flicker and even transparisteel would be at risk of shattering. “They dissected him and turned a being into a computer. They’ve treated him like he’s nothing more than a brainless worm—a piece of merchandise. He’s beyond lucky to be alive.”

She glanced behind them, at where Fives was still holding Echo in his arms, their heads bent together as they talked lowly. His eyes were still wet with grief and despair and gleaming hope, and Rex knew that, like him, the Commander was thinking of those sleepless nights after the Citadel when Fives had been hollow and hysterical and inconsolable, and they had both been terrified that he would be decommissioned.

And all this time Echo had just been...here, trapped in this forsaken place. Suffering a fate perhaps worse than decommissioning.

“Mercy is too good for these monsters,” Commander Tano snarled, echoing his thoughts. “They’re butchers—demagolka,” she snarled. “And they’ll pay for what they’ve done.”

“What’s your plan, Commander?” Rex asked.

“This facility must have a main reactor room where the energy that powers all these experiments is generated and distributed, right?” The Commander turned to the others. “Echo, can you lead us there?”

“The entire Techno Union database is in my head,” Echo said. “Of course I can, sir.”

“Good,” Commander Tano said. “We’re going to blow it up—that’ll teach them to never take one of ours again. But we’re going to have to make a quick exit afterward.”

“We’re with you, Commander,” Fives said.

Commander Tano led them through the facility, her vibroblade and blaster easily incapacitating the clankers they encountered, her movements sharp and vindictive. Jesse was at her side, his eyes flat and steely as he downed each droid with one shot.

At the rear, protecting Fives and Echo, Rex shook with barely controlled rage. He couldn’t stop thinking about that battle at the Citadel and imagining all the different ways he could’ve done something to save Echo, to avoid leaving him behind to this terrible fate.

The main reactor wasn’t far. Like in the chamber that had been Echo’s prison, the floor of this room was lined in thrumming energy cords. At the center was the enormous reactor, the brilliant light inside the thick shields nearly blinding.

“I’ve never seen a reactor like this before,” Rex said.

“The Skakoans condense the hydrogen sulfide in Skako Minor’s atmosphere to fill the fuel vines of this facility,” Echo said. “It’s very easy to collect and very cheap to generate. It’s also very, very combustible.”

“I like the sound of that,” Jesse said.

While he and Commander Tano stood guard outside the door, and Rex took up place just inside of it, Echo urged Fives toward the console against the wall.

“Fives, put me down.”

Frowning, Fives held him even closer. “Are you sure? Can you even stand? You have to be careful.”

“I’ll be fine,” Echo said, exasperated, and hearing him sound like his old self made Rex’s heart warm. If he closed his eyes, he might even be able to pretend this was just another one of their missions back in the day, before everything had gotten so complicated and they had lost so much.

Fives draped Echo’s arm over his shoulder, helping him stand on his wobbling legs. As Echo lifted his right hand and plugged the scomp at the end of his arm into the astromech socket on the console, his eyes began to flicker as they had been when he’d first emerged from the cryochamber.

It was disorienting to see Echo like this—with the familiar furrow in his brow that differentiated him from the other vode—but the abilities of a clanker. Still, it was Echo through and through, from the smirk on his face as he worked to the way he leaned into Fives’s touch, as he had since Rex had known them.

“There,” Echo said triumphantly. Without needing to be prompted, Fives drew out his comlink, and Echo spoke into it. “Commander, I’ve disengaged the reactor’s cooling systems and rigged the shields to decay at a quick rate. By the time the engineers get here, it’ll be too late.”

“How much time does that give us to make our exit?” Commander Tano asked.

“Twenty minutes,” Echo said.

“All right. Get out of there and—”

She was interrupted by the facility’s klaxon beginning to ring. Rex could hear the fast-approaching sound of droids marching.

“Osik,” Jesse hissed over the comm line. “We’ve been discovered.”

“It’s the intruders!” the droid sergeant in the corridor shouted. “Blast them!” Rex could distinguish the sounds of Jesse’s and the Commander’s blasters from those of the B1 droids, and they sounded outnumbered.

Echo heard it, too. “I’ll make sure the path is clear to a clean getaway,” he said as his scomp continued to rotate in the astromech socket.

“There,” he said after a moment, triumphant. Cautiously, Rex peered out the door. He saw only the Commander and Jesse standing amid a slew of offlined droids, looking bemused as the other droids around them had dropped their weapons and were simply going about their business.

Jesse’s blaster was still raised. “Uh, what just happened, sir?”

“I’m not so sure myself,” Rex said, joining them. “Echo?”

Echo disconnected himself from the socket and emerged from the room, Fives hovering behind him. “I gave all droids in the facility the order to recognize us as allies. They won’t cause any more problems for us.”

“You can control the clankers?” Fives asked.

“That’s all I’ve been doing,” Echo said wryly.

“Hey, as long as it gets us out of here before the whole place blows,” Jesse pitched in.

Echo, back in Fives’s arms after a brief argument, guided them through the labyrinthine halls, and he had been right: None of the droids they encountered attacked them. Some of them even chirped, “Hello, sir!” to Echo.

“Fourteen minutes,” Rex reported.

“There are speeders here that we can use,” Echo said as they crossed the threshold into a hangar that resembled the one they had initially come through.

Fives had already climbed aboard the speeder, bracketing Echo in front of him in such a way that he would easily be able to shield him in a firefight, when Wat Tambor came rolling in.

“Stop right there!” he demanded.

“Go!” Commander Tano shouted at Rex and his brothers. “Take Echo back to the ship!”

“But, Commander—” he protested.

“Don’t worry about me!”

“Jesse, go with Fives and Echo,” Rex ordered. “I’m staying, Commander.”

“Fine!” Commander Tano said. “Go, Fives!” and Fives and Jesse zoomed through the hangar opening, dodging the blaster bolts fired by the droids accompanying Wat Tambor.

“Who are you people?!” Tambor demanded.

“Your worst nightmare,” Commander Tano said, canines barred.

She leaped into action, and Rex was right behind her.

Jesse had just parked his speeder by the ramp of their ship when he saw starfighters shoot out from the facility they’d just escaped. He scrambled into the pilot seat while Fives gently set Echo down in a passenger seat and then slid into the copilot chair beside Jesse.

“Commander? Commander, come in.” Fives cursed. “Comms are jammed.”

“We only have three more minutes,” Echo warned.

In their hurry, takeoff was shaky, but Jesse righted the ship, and they flew toward the facility. As they got closer, he realized that the shapes rushing toward them in the sky weren’t starfighters but droids.

“Those things can fly?” Fives exclaimed.

Jesse shook his head in dismay. “This just keeps getting better and better.”

They scanned for Ahsoka and Rex on the ground, continuing to try the comm. Three of the flying droids came for them, but Fives got rid of them with the nose gun.

“Where are they?” Jesse muttered.

“Uh, you better look up, vod,” Echo said, and Jesse looked.

Commander Tano and Rex waved to them from atop two flying creatures that were gliding toward them. The Commander was smirking, some kind of cargo in tow, and Rex looked rather queasy.

Where had that creature even come from? Jesse was pretty sure he had seen the native folks riding those earlier. He shook his head. Jedi.

Jesse slowed the ship down, and Fives left the cockpit to go drag them in. When they returned, Rex looked hilariously windswept, whereas Commander Tano appeared completely calm. She slipped into the copilot seat, leaving Fives to settle next to Echo. Rex leaned on the back of Jesse’s seat.

Jesse dipped to shoot at the droids. Two more shattered into bits. “You know, we were supposed to come for you.”

“You’re welcome,” Commander Tano replied with a grin.

“Who’s the guest?” Echo asked.

“We captured Wat Tambor,” Commander Tano said. “But don’t worry. I knocked him out and took his comlinks. He’s in binders now.” That didn’t exactly make Jesse feel better, but he supposed Tambor could be vital to the Republic if he could be convinced to testify against the Separatists.

“All right, let’s focus up. How much time until the reactor goes off?” Rex asked.

“Twenty seconds!” Echo reported.

Jesse managed to pull the ship up into the clouds just as there was a thunderous rumble in the ground beneath them.

They watched in awe as the central tower of the Techno Union headquarters exploded in a blazing flash of light. The bridges connected to the structure violently collapsed, bringing down the next tower and the next. Multicolor fires lit up every part of the facility. The whole place was going down.

Fives gasped at the sight. “I can’t believe it,” he said. His voice sounded odd, but it was probably just the adrenaline wearing off. It had been a long day.

Jesse glanced behind him and saw Echo watching the explosions intently, satisfaction curling on his face. Jesse felt triumphant, too: Today, justice had been served.

It would never be enough. Destroying Echo’s torture chamber would not make his pain disappear; it would not alleviate the memories of the horrors he had suffered and the trauma he carried because of it.

But at least he was alive. At least he was home now, among his brothers once again.

And at the very least, they could give him this.

The office lights were dimmed. Cody had been working since the beginning of the rotation, reassigning squads and filling out requisition requests. They were continuing to lose on Anaxes, and badly. The casualty reports were some of the worst he’d ever seen in his three years in this seat.

It didn’t make any sense. They had their best in the air and their best on the ground, but they had been outmaneuvered at nearly every turn. Trench may have been a clever adversary in the past, but he had never so soundedly defeated the GAR in a long-term campaign. It almost felt as if he knew what they were going to do before they did it. And so many of the best men of the 212th, the 501st, and the 91st had already died, and the shinies he, Neyo, and Appo were having to send in were all but cannon fodder at this rate.

Cody rubbed his eyes. He was so exhausted that his imagination was running wild again. When his comm beeped, he didn’t bother checking who the call was from. Every fifteen minutes, there was another fire he had to put out. Everyone was counting on him, the stalwart, tireless marshal commander.

“Cody here,” he answered, and nearly jumped out of his seat when he recognized the voice that said gruffly:

“Hey, vod.”

Cody’s gaze darted around the office, but he was alone. The visual had been blocked from the other end, so it was a voice-only communication, but he could hear the exhaustion in Rex’s voice.

“I should call the generals,” Cody said. His relief at finally hearing from Rex didn’t change how pissed he was to have been left out of the loop of whatever the hells Rex had gotten himself into. “Make them trace the call and hunt you down.”

“But you won’t,” Rex said, and his utter faith in Cody was incredibly annoying. Especially because he was right.

Cody rubbed his temples. “Give me one reason I shouldn’t.”

“Okay. I’ve given you the key to winning Anaxes.”

Cody straightened up. “You... What?”

“Who’s the new captain of the 501st?”

“Who’s... It’s Appo. What, are you jealous?”

“What? No, di’kut.” His annoyance made Cody snort and feel a little more at ease. “I’m going to go out on a limb and guess that Appo has been using my old battle strategiss for the campaign.”

Cody frowned. “Maybe,” he said cautiously. “He’s needed a little support as he’s getting used to running an entire regiment. So what?”

“So the Techno Union was using those against you,” he said. “Listen, do you recall all those battle plans I drafted with Echo? Remember when I told you he had a great strategic mind, and you granted his promotion to corporal?”

Cody made an impatient noise. “Rex, ol’ buddy, if you don’t get to the point soon...”

Rex hurriedly continued, “Okay, okay. But you’re not going to believe me. Because...Echo didn’t die at the Citadel. He was captured and experimented on by the Techno Union, who tried to make him into a battle computer—a battle computer who came with a database of all the plans we’d made together and could algorithmically calculate the best ways to counter our strategies.” He growled, “And recently, he was sold to Admiral Trench, who has been using this ‘asset’ against the very brothers he once fought alongside. On Anaxes, as well as in other GAR campaigns.”

Sitting frozen, Cody felt like he was barely processing Rex’s words. They didn’t make any sense, yet he couldn’t imagine why Rex would conjure up such a gruesome tale. “And you know this...how?”

“I rescued him. And he told me himself.”

“Osik,” Cody breathed. “So he’s with you now? With Tano and Jesse?”

He at least appreciated that Rex didn’t hesitate or pretend to hide it. “Yes,” he said in clipped tones.

“Is that why you left? To save Echo?” Cody gentled his voice, all too aware of how much a toll losing Echo at the Citadel had taken on Rex. He must’ve become obsessed with the idea of rescuing him. At the time that he’d died—or apparently been presumed dead—he had been one of Rex’s closest friends. “You didn’t have to do that, Rex,” he said. “We would’ve gone after him.”

“No,” Rex said grimly. “That wasn’t why.”

Cody bit back a snap. “Care to share with the class?”

“I know you won’t believe me.”

That pissed Cody off, too. “Try me,” he bit out.

“All right. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Rex’s voice got tense again. “You remember Trooper Tup of Torrent Company and how he was diagnosed with a virus after he killed General Tiplar?”

Cody did. General Kenobi had hoped to keep the incident quiet while the Jedi Council was investigating the Separatist plot, but keeping a secret among the vod’e was nearly impossible, especially when the coveted news was that one of their own had killed a Jedi general, and everyone was terrified that they would be the next to catch the disease.

“Well, it wasn’t a virus,” Rex said, immediately dropping a thermal detonator on Cody’s thoughts. “It was a malfunctioning chip in his head. Turns out, we all have them. And they were programmed with orders to kill the Jedi.”

“Hold up,” Cody interjected, pushing away the horrifying image of being somehow forced to be the cause of General Kenobi’s death. “What do you mean we all have them?”

“The Kaminoans put them in us,” Rex said grimly. “Right from the tube.”

Cody shook his head. What Rex was saying didn’t make any sense. “But why would they want us to kill the Jedi? We were decanted to serve them.”

“Well, obviously, we weren’t.”

“And who told you this?” Cody wondered.

“Fives,” Rex said. “He accompanied Tup to Kamino and discovered the chips before narrowly escaping being decommissioned. A medical droid who was assisting him confirmed the chip’s presence.”

“Fives is alive?!” Cody sat back, trying his best to process that and all its implications. The last he’d heard, Fox and the Guard had been in the pursuit of Fives, on the Chancellor’s orders, before they’d lost him. He’d been accused of an assassination attempt, which had been attributed to the virus.

“So that’s why you left,” Cody concluded. To harbor two fugitives from the law, he didn’t say. At this point, the accusation would be meaningless.

“Yes,” Rex said simply. “We intend on gathering evidence and presenting it to the Jedi and the vod’e. We’ve been hoping that you’ll vouch for us.”

Cody’s head was spinning. “Why didn’t you tell me, Rex? Why am I only hearing this now?”

“I’m sorry, Cody,” Rex said, and at least he sounded genuine. “I didn’t think you’d believe me. I barely believed it myself before Commander Tano verified that Fives wasn’t lying.”

“I suppose I still don’t, though you’ve certainly piqued my interest.” Cody sighed. “All right. Get me that evidence, and I’ll decide.”

“Sir, yes, sir,” Rex said. Cody could practically hear him grinning cheekily. “There’s one more thing: We have Wat Tambor in our custody. Where should we leave him for you to find?”

Cody blinked, hard, then reached over to the right side of his desk and chugged what remained of the caf in his thermajug. He had a feeling he was going to need it.

The Techno Union had carved Echo open and salvaged only what they could market and sell, but Echo hadn’t let them take Fives from him, or Domino Squad, or Rex and all his other brothers. He had clung to what memories he could glimpse from the place within him where they had locked away everything that made him who he was.

After they left the Skako system, Echo didn’t leave Fives’s side, basking in the rumble of his deep voice and his dry humor. He was older now, and certainly wearier, and at times, there was a sharp, biting edge to the things he said, allusions to dark, painful experiences Echo didn’t know about.

But he would always recognize his Fives. He had missed him so profoundly, and he was determined to relearn all the things that made him who he was.

He’d missed the others, too, and had managed a grin at the sight of Commander lugging a body onto the ship behind her when she’d first come on board. The 501st was still completely mad. Some things never changed.

They converted one of the bunkrooms into a temporary brig, and Echo worked with Jesse to set up a ray shield to contain their prisoner. The Commander—who seemed so much older than the last time he’d seen her—took the pilot’s seat, Jesse beside her, and Rex found a quiet corner from which to call Cody.

Which left Fives and Echo the passenger cabin, where they sat on the durasteel floor, shoulder to shoulder. The space was cramped, but Echo didn’t mind being close. It had been much too long since he had been touched by anyone who didn’t intend to torture him. And Fives was so warm, a comforting furnace for Echo’s phantom cryo pains and his intrusive thoughts.

Fives told Echo about all the friends he had made, the battles he had been a part of, and the brothers who had marched away in Echo’s absence. Together, they said their remembrances, Fives walking Echo through the names of the vod’e he’d been close to who had been lost after the Citadel mission.

And when Echo wondered why they weren’t flying a Republic vessel, Fives told him everything that had happened since the Battle of Ringo Vinda.

After the time Echo had spent in the Techno Union’s thrall, it wasn’t hard to imagine that there were other monsters in the galaxy who wished to control the vod’e and use them for their nefarious plots, but it still broke his heart. The vod’e already had enough conflicting feelings about the war being a terrible thing yet also being the irrevocable reason they’d been decanted. They didn’t need another reason to doubt their legitimacy, doubt their existence.

And when Fives’s voice staggered, Echo told him what he could remember of his time in the Techno Union. Fives listened, a terribly sad look on his face, and silently pressed his leg to Echo’s in comfort, letting him continue to speak.

“I’m sorry,” Fives said eventually, his head bowed.

Echo frowned. “For what?”

“For not coming for you sooner,” Fives whispered.

“You didn’t know,” Echo replied. “You couldn’t have known. It’s not your fault, Fives.”

“Still,” Fives insisted, stubborn as ever.

Echo leaned his head on Fives’s shoulder. “Well, thank you for coming for me anyway.”

“Of course,” Fives said, carefully wrapping an arm around him. “I’ll always come for you.”

They continued talking, and when Fives yawned for the fourth time in a row, he chuckled self-consciously. “It’s okay,” he said quickly. “I’m not tired.”

Echo shook his head in amusement. Fives was still an abysmal liar. “You take the top and I take the bottom like when we were cadets?”

Fives frowned, uncharacteristic uncertainty creeping into his expression. “You, uh—you don’t want to...”

Echo waited for him to finish, but he remained quiet, looking stricken. “What?” he prodded. “What is it?”

Fives cleared his throat, body language wooden. “You don’t want to share?”

Echo’s heart skipped.

“I know you said...but I wasn’t sure...” He swallowed hard. There was a weight in the pit of his stomach, and the words were hard to get out. “It’s been so long, and I wouldn’t blame you if you moved on and found somebody else. It sounded like you and Tup were close—”

“What? What are you talking about?” Fives’s voice was louder than Echo expected, and he shrunk back, feeling skittish. His gaze darted automatically to the door.

Noticing, Fives gentled his voice and slowly shifted closer, telegraphing his movements. “Echo, I haven’t moved on,” he said. “I don’t think it would be possible. You’re it for me.”

Echo looked down at his leg prostheses. “Even though I’m part clanker now?”

“Even if you were all clanker, you’d still be the most beautiful being in the galaxy to me,” Fives said, eyes shining.

Echo flushed, relief flooding him. Still, he had to ask: “You have to know: I’m not the same being I once was. Are you sure you want me?”

“I’m not the same being I was back then, either,” Fives said. “But that doesn’t matter—not in this. We’ll learn each other anew. So of course I want you. I always will.”

There was a lump in Echo’s throat, and all he could think was, Fives, Fives, Fives. He took his hand and wove their fingers together, wondering at the sensation.

Till the Eternal March takes us, they had sworn at their bonding ceremony. It seemed that Fives had meant his vows.

Well, Echo had, too. Always would.

“One thing’s for sure,” Echo teased. “You’re still corny as all hells.”

Fives laughed. “You got me. Well, you’re not going to get out of being the riduur of this cornball so easily.”

Echo’s heart fluttered. It had been so long since he’d last heard that word. Quivering, he cupped Fives’s face with his forearm, carefully avoiding hitting him with the scomp. He brought their foreheads together, then leaned in even closer, the scratch of facial hair against his skin sending a thrill down his spine. On instinct, their breathing fell in sync.

Fives’s eyes were liquid, his expression unbearably tender. “Echo’ika,” he whispered.

I’m here, Echo thought. At long last.

He kissed Fives, and tasted sunlight, its ferocious glow melting the frozen core within him.

Chapter Text

“When I was out there, alone, all I had was your training and the lessons you taught me. And because of you, I did survive. And not only that, I was able to lead others to survive as well.”
—Ahsoka Tano

“Osik!” Commander Tano snarled as their ship lurched to the side and two alarms on the control panel began beeping insistently in tandem. “We’re hit!”

“Shields are down, but the engines are live,” Rex reported from the copilot seat beside her. “Redirecting power to weapons. Fives, you need to buy us some time!”

“Trying!” Fives shouted over the comm from the aft gunner seat. Rex monitored his progress on the screen and pumped his fist when he saw Fives land a series of hits on one of the ion engines of the vessel pursuing them.

Commander Tano swerved to avoid the series of laser cannon bolts fired in retaliation by the enemy ship as it began wobbling. “Echo, we need that hyperspace calculation, now!”

Echo was at the navigation console behind them, frowning as his scomp whirred in the astromech slot. “I have the route mapped out, Commander—but I’m getting an error alert from the hyperdrive.”

Jesse’s hand gripped the back of Rex’s chair, peering over his shoulder at the screen. “Looks like it’s gone offline,” he said. “That can’t be good.”

“No kidding,” Commander Tano said, gritting her sharp teeth. “Well, looks like it’s up to us to turn this fight around, boys! Let’s not allow bounty hunter scum to get the best of us.”

They were able to overpower the other ship eventually, with the Commander’s skillful flying and Rex and Fives working together to disable their opponents’ flight capabilities and leave them dead in the water.

They breathed a collective sigh of relief when they were able to get away from the smoking husk of the other ship. Fives joined them in the cockpit and slung an arm around Echo’s waist.

The two of them had been joined at the hip since they left the Skako system. Jesse teased them and made faces, but he smiled soppily at them whenever he thought nobody was looking. Rex wasn’t hiding his own smile one bit; he had lost so many brothers in this war, and it was a gift beyond measure to get one back. The day they’d gotten Echo back, he had tucked Echo in a tight embrace as the Techno Union's headquarters crumbled down below, both of them pretending not to notice the tears in his eyes.

Despite their current predicament, Rex couldn’t help but smile at him.

“Now what?” Jesse was wondering.

“Now we’re stranded,” Commander Tano grumbled, slumping back into her seat. “We had to deviate from our course to avoid those sleemos, so we’re nowhere near where we were supposed to be. Not that we’d be able to jump, anyway. ”

“There’s not much neutral space in these parts,” Echo reported, his eyes flickering as he searched the ship’s holomaps. “But there’s an outpost within sublight distance on Talzene that’s neither Republic nor Separatist territory. Unfortunately, it is unofficially affiliated with Crimson Dawn.”

“We’ll have to live with it,” Commander Tano said. “If the outpost is part of the underworld, no one will be asking too many questions, and we should be able to blend in. We’ll leave as soon as we’re able to get our hyperdrive fixed.”

She wasn’t wrong. When they finally got through the air traffic and docked their ship, the operator at the public hangar accepted their generous payment without further comment. Rex breathed a sigh of relief, thankful that the Commander had some understanding of how to navigate such things. For all the knowledge the Kaminoans had drilled into his head, he was no good with civilian matters.

“I’ll stay to guard the ship,” Jesse said, lingering on the ramp. “Just in case someone tries something.”

“Maybe you should stay as well, Echo,” Fives said, and Rex huffed a laugh at the disdainful eyebrow Echo leveled at him.

Ever since the rescue mission, Fives had been fiercely overprotective. As close as they had been before Echo had been captured, Fives had always been certain he could take care of himself. But Rex supposed Echo hadn’t come home to that Fives; this Fives had led a mutiny against a Jedi Master on Umbara, had tried to get the word out about a conspiracy and been wrongfully impeded, had tried to kill the Chancellor with a blaster. This Fives had left behind a part of himself on Lola Sayu and never recovered from its absence.

“I’m perfectly capable of going on this civilian mission, Fives,” Echo shot back. “Besides, my legs are sore. It’d be nice to stretch them for a bit.”

Guilt flashed across Fives’s face at the reminder of what Echo had lost. “Fine,” he said, crossing his arms. “But you’re not leaving my side.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Echo replied, and Rex knew he was just barely suppressing an eyeroll.

Commander Tano looked between them in amusement. “All sorted? Let’s go see what this rock has to offer.”

Talzene was one of many asteroids in a belt just off the galactic southeast corridor of the Corellian Run, near Bothan space. The outpost encompassed the entire rock, topped with a planetwide atmo dome and bustling with pirates, smugglers, dealers, and fugitives alike. The temperature outside was cold and brisk, and the air smelled of fuel, cheap sansanna spice, and greasy foods.

“Looks like there’s a cantina up ahead,” Commander Tano said. “Let’s ask around and see if we can find someone who works on starships and won’t ask any questions.”

The cantina turned out to be a gambling den, with a plethora of tables for sabacc, dejarik, pazaak, and chance cube matches. The air was thick with purple smoke and reeked of sweat and bodies. Rex wrinkled his nose and pulled his hood lower as they squeezed through the throng of beings and made their way to the bar. On the small, circular stage in the center of the room, lithe dancers of various species and genders swayed while a LEP service droid sang an old-fashioned tune.

They pushed their way through the crowd around the bar, and during the endless wait, Rex observed the cantina, noting the exits and choke points and which beings were carrying which kinds of blasters.

Eventually, one of the bartenders, an Ithorian fitted with a translator box, finally barked, “What can I get you folks?”

The Commander leaned her elbows on the bar and said, “Two fizzbrews, please. And a standard room, if you have one.”

The bartender nodded and threw her a key fob, then began fixing their drinks.

Commander Tano squinted at the lettering on the rusty fob before tossing it to Fives. “Vev-6,” she said. “You and Echo go and make sure the room is clean. Rex and I will look for a mechanic and keep you posted.”

“You got it, sir,” Fives said, and led Echo away.

Commando Tano smiled after them. “I know they’re still working some things out, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen Fives so happy,” she remarked.

“The closest was at their bonding ceremony,” Rex said thoughtfully. “It’s nice to see.”

“It is,” the Commander said, a wistful expression on her face. Rex was surprised to see it, but he had seen more emotions break past her usual mask in the past few weeks than he had in the three years they’d been working together. “I figured they might want some alone time.”

The bartender slid the drinks across the table, the silver liquid spilling over the rims of the mugs, and Rex accepted the one Commander Tano handed him.

“All right,” she said, shaking off her wet fingers. “Split up and mingle, and meet at the post over there in about fifteen?”

“Yes, sir,” Rex said.

He slipped into the crowd that was gathered around the dejarik tables, absently watching the game as he sipped on his drink and listened closely to the conversations around him. He engaged a few of the friendlier-looking beings and tried to subtly poke around, with no luck.

Rex scanned the room for Commander Tano, hoping she was faring better than him. He spotted her in a corner, her head tilted upward toward a broad-shouldered Kiffar woman with bronze skin, a long, green braid, and a matching green tattoo bisecting her face. The woman leaned down to murmur something in the Commander’s ears, and Rex could’ve sworn he saw her lekku twitch. She cupped her hand near the woman’s ear to reply, expression playful, and the woman laughed.

On instinct, Rex looked away and receded into the crowd. He was used to averting his eyes from the obvious spectacle General Skywalker and Senator Amidala made of themselves, but it wasn’t often that he caught Commander Tano in a similar position.

Sometime later, she sidled up to him. “I think I found a solution,” she said. “I met someone who said they have access to a parts seller with the replacement hyperdrive components we need. They can get me a deal on installation, too. But...it’s still more than we have in credits.”

Innocently, Rex prodded, “Can’t you get us a bigger discount? The two of you looked pretty cozy over there.”

Commander Tano ducked her head. “Rex!” she said, sounding scandalized, and he chuckled.

“Don’t worry, sir,” he said lightly. “I won’t tell anyone.”

Commander Tano huffed, chewing on her lip. “I guess it doesn’t really matter anymore.”

Rex looked down at his mostly empty mug. Out here, away from the GAR, it was easy to let the lines between their ranks blur, and he wasn’t sure what was appropriate. The Commander had repeatedly declared her desire for them to be equals, but old habits were hard to shake. Still, he thought she might be comforted to know that she could talk to him as much as she could talk to her Jedi friends—maybe more, considering their current circumstances.

“Now that you don’t have to abide by the rules you did before,” he said carefully, “do you ever think about wanting that, sir?”

Commander Tano grimaced, and for a moment, he worried he had overstepped. But instead of rejecting the overture, she said, “To tell you the truth, I have for a long time. I used to worry it was due to my master’s influence, because of...you know.” Rex nodded, squirming in embarrassment as all the times he'd caught General Skywalker and Senator Amidala together flashed through his mind. “But since we’ve been out here—since visiting that temple,” she continued, “I’ve had to accept these flaws as my own, and that I’ve always struggled with that tenet.”

Rex nodded. Given that she had shared something private with him, it was only fair that he divulge some of his own furtive thoughts on the matter. “I get it, sir,” he said. “I’ve watched so many of my men link up but have always abstained, maintaining that duty should come first. Maybe it’s the Jedi rubbing off on me, but I don’t know that I could do my duty properly if I were with someone. I’d always be worrying about them, and it wouldn’t be fair to the other men.”

He absently stirred the ice chips remaining at the bottom of the mug, thinking about Cut Lawquane and the quiet life he’d chosen for himself. “In my moments of weakness, I used to always think—maybe after the war was over, I’d get to have that: some measure of peace, and someone to come home to. But now I’m not so sure if war ever ends. And I’m not feeling all that confident about my place in the galaxy.”

The Commander’s gaze was soft. “That’s what we’re fighting for, right, Rex? So that we can all be free. Free to make our own decisions. Free to choose to love. Free to find peace.

“Training with the Daughter has made me realize that’s all I’ve ever wanted. For peace in the galaxy, and for all the beings in it to be free. Not enslaved, not chipped, not held back by an ancient creed. Free to choose who they want to be.”

“Free,” Rex repeated, rolling the word around on his tongue. “I like the sound of that, Commander.”

The room they were leasing was cramped and dingy, not much more than two narrow cots, a rickety wardrobe, a tiny refresher, and a small table that appeared to come with no chairs. As they were underground, even the little window was false, nothing more than a flickering holo screen that rotated images of the streets of Talzene throughout the day.

Fives and Echo swept the room for trackers, checking everything from the inside of the sonic to the space beneath the cots.

“I think we’re good,” Fives said, collapsing onto one of them.

“What if we missed something? You sure you checked on top of the wardrobe?” Echo asked.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Fives said, making a face. Echo’s brow was still furrowed as he once again examined the underside of the table. “Hey,” Fives said, more gently. “Come here, cyar’ika.”

Echo blinked at him, seeming bemused, but he obeyed, sitting down next to Fives’s hip on the cot. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” Fives answered. “Just want you close.”

“Because you think I can’t take care of myself?“ Echo asked, sounding a little annoyed. “My arm and legs being replaced doesn’t mean I’ve been incapacitated, you know. Are you forgetting I was an ARC trooper too?”

“It’s not that,” Fives huffed. He reached out and tangled their hands together, grounding himself in Echo’s touch. “Sorry if I’ve been overbearing. I know you can take care of yourself. I just... When I thought you were dead, I wished every day that you would come back to me. Now that you have—it feels too good to be true. I’m terrified that any moment now, I’m going to wake up from this dream. I just want to cherish you for as long as I can.”

Expression softening, Echo squeezed Fives’s hand. “I’m here, Fives,” he said. “This is real, and I’m not going anywhere.” He pressed his cheek to the palm of Fives’s gauntlet. “Nothing’s gonna keep us apart.”

Fives smiled. “Good,” he said. “Hey, you wanna report in to Rex and the Commander, or should I?”

“I’ve got it,” Echo said. He didn’t need to use a comlink to tap into the frequency, which was still very disorienting to witness. “Sir, the room is ready.”

“Thanks, Echo,” Rex said. “We’ve got a lead and will join you at the room at 1730.”

Echo checked his chrono. “1730? They’re being generous. What do you want to do until they get here?”

Fives yanked Echo’s arm, hard, and murmured, “I have a few ideas.”

Echo grunted as the motion made him tumble on top of Fives, half twisted. Fives laughed at his startled expression.

Being around Echo again made him feel years younger. Of course he’d missed kissing Echo and taking him to bed, falling asleep beside him and waking up wrapped around him—but even more than that, he’d missed these little moments between them. He’d missed being Echo’s Fives—Domino Squad’s Fives—the one who made dry jokes and teased his brothers, the one who had genuinely, optimistically believed a grand future awaited him.

Echo chuckled, and the sound was so familiar and beloved that Fives’s heart swelled with feeling. He must’ve had a goofy expression on his face, because Echo looked amused as he lifted himself up, holding up the entire weight of his body on just his flesh arm.

Fives’s mouth watered at the casual show of strength. “Kark, Echo,” he murmured, placing his hand on Echo’s hip. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

Echo smiled at him, eyes crinkling. Despite all that’d changed, he was as gorgeous as ever—maybe even more so. The vod’e had always believed that scars were indicative of a brother’s bravery, of the sacrifices they had made for their brothers and the Republic, and Echo’s were undeniable. Fives felt his stomach flutter at the prospect of finally having his beautiful, courageous riduur’s wholehearted attention.

Holding on to that feeling and engraving the precious moment in his head, he leaned up to catch that smile with his own eager mouth.

“I’m glad, too,” Echo murmured against his lips, then pressed even closer.

“Where the hell are we going to get five hundred credits?” Fives exclaimed an hour later, wringing his hands.

“I’m not sure,” Ahsoka said. She was pacing across the small room, arms crossed. “We could contact Lux, but given the steps he’ll need to take to cover his tracks, it’ll take some time before we actually receive the funds—and we’ll be grounded in the meantime.”

“We don’t have the time to waste,” Rex pointed out. “Cody is standing by—I could reach out to him and see if he can help us?”

“Yeah, but marshal commander or not, I doubt he has five hundred credits just lying around,” Fives argued.

Rex sighed. “Fair point.”

“Well, this is a casino, right?” Echo mused. “What if we won the money?”

“As in...gambling?”

Echo shrugged. “Why not? The players at the sabacc tables looked to be swimming in credits. If we scored big, we could pay for the repairs and more. Replenish our weapon supplies, even.”

Rex shook his head. “Vod, are you forgetting that all of us clones are notoriously bad liars? Maybe we could try dejarik instead.”

Echo went over to the room’s astromech port and his eyes darted back and forth for a second before he declared, “No, sabacc is where the highest earners are. Besides, I was a bad liar,” Echo said. He gestured at the implants in his head. “I’m not anymore. And what I’ve always been is good at strategy and numbers.”

“You really think you can win us five hundred credits though?” Commander Tano asked.

“Don’t worry, Commander,” Echo said. “I’ve got this.”

Three hours later, they realized Echo had severely undersold himself. Since he had sat down at a sabacc table, he had earned eight hundred credits, even after he’d intentionally lost some to make his wins convincing.

None of them had ever even seen so many credits before, much less owned them. Fives whooped, slapping Echo on the back.

“That’s my mate,” he cheered.

Even under the hood that covered most of his face, Rex’s jaw had been dropped ever since Echo had hit four hundred. “I don’t believe it,” he said in amazement.

“You, my friend, are a very lucky man!” the young Weequay sitting to Echo’s left exclaimed.

“What do you think, boys?” Echo mused. “Shall I walk away now?”

“Come now, one more game!” the young Human who had introduced himself as Karga urged. “You’re not a coward, are you?”

“Echo...” Rex warned. “Don’t go getting a big head, now.”

Echo turned to Fives, his eyebrows raised. “You believe in me, sweetheart?”

His cockiness made Fives grin. Echo’s confidence always made his heart swell with pride, and it was nice to see that he still felt the confidence that the Domino Twins had once been known for. It’d been too long since Fives had felt that confidence himself. Without Echo at his side, it had felt impossible, unreachable.

“Always,” Fives said, leaning down to kiss his temple. He ignored how the other players jeered and whistled at them, high on Echo’s continual success.

“All right, you lowlifes,” Echo said, pushing his pile of credits into the center of the table. “One more round. I’m all in.”

Ahsoka was standing at Echo’s shoulder, watching as he swept the table yet again, bringing his total earnings to 1,100 credits, when she felt a surge of power in the Force—one she hadn’t felt since she’d left Coruscant. Her head shot up in alarm.

“Blast!” she hissed as she scanned the room. “Hold down the fort, boys. I’ll be right back.”

“Sir?” Rex asked, but Ahsoka had already slipped away.

Urgently pulling her hood over her montrals, she darted through the throngs of beings. She could feel the presence nearing her and tried melting into the crowd where she could, but she couldn’t shake her pursuer.

Not looking back, she raced down the tunnels leading to the residential floors. She could hear footsteps behind her and feel that unmistakable glow in the Force get nearer and nearer. Anxiety made her heart race.

“Ahsoka!” the familiar voice shouted down the corridor. “Stop running! I know it’s you!”

Her back flattened against the wall around the corner, Ahsoka sighed, knowing there was no chance he would leave her alone now. She glanced down at the jumpsuit she had taken to wearing and the blaster holster on her leg. It was still odd to not have her lightsabers on her—to have no idea where they were, even.

Stepping out of the shadows, she said hesitantly, “Hello, Master. It’s been a while.” She held herself proudly, unwilling to let him see the toil their journey had taken on her.

But Anakin rushed toward her and swept her into an embrace so tight it lifted her off the ground. “Thank the stars you’re okay,” he breathed, full of emotion. Then he paused. “Are you okay?”

Ahsoka didn’t expect the tide of warmth she felt at his concern and obvious relief. Somehow, it grounded her. She heaved a sigh.

“I’m all right. Thank you.”

Almost instinctively, she wound her arms around his hunched back and hugged him in return, letting him squeeze her so tightly it nearly hurt.

“I’ve been so kriffing worried,” Anakin said when he let go, gripping her shoulders and taking her in. “I was afraid I might never see you again.”

“In your dreams,” Ahsoka teased automatically, but it was worth it to see Anakin grin.

“What’s going on, Snips?” he asked plaintively. “What are you doing at a place like this?”

Ahsoka held her trigger finger to her mouth. “Not here,” she said. “We have a room downstairs. Come on.”

He followed her to the clunky turbolift and watched as she spoke into her comlink, “The General's here. We’re going back to the room to talk. Give us some time and proceed with the plan.”

There was a significant pause, and then Rex said, “Affirmative, Commander.”

“Is that Rex?” Anakin asked.

Ahsoka nodded. Suddenly, she couldn’t bear to look at him, remembering that night in the Coruscant undercity tunnels when he had tried to physically stop her from leaving, and fear and panic had rolled off of Rex as he stood helpless, trying to adhere to the plan against his best instincts.

She held the keyfob to the door sensor and ushered Anakin in.

He crossed his arms, and when the door shut behind her, he asked, “Why did you run away, Ahsoka?”

Irritated, Ahsoka turned away, busying herself with emptying the water from the room’s small vaporator into the provided pitcher.

“What choice did I have?” she replied. “The Republic claimed I had taken the lives of Jedi, troopers, and civilians—and when I told them the truth, nobody believed me! Why did I run away? Because I was framed!” She grit her teeth. “And for some reason, my orchestrating such a horrible crime was so easy for everyone to believe.”

“Not me,” Anakin said. “I believed you. I trusted you.” His palms were up, beseeching, when she turned back around. “I still trust you now.”

“Then why did you hunt me down that night?” The words burst out of her. “Why didn’t you have my back? You captured me with the intention of turning me in!”

“I was trying to protect you!” Anakin protested. “I tried to get to your cell, but the Coruscant Guard stopped me, and I was furious! But they told me I’d be implicated as well. And if I’d gotten arrested, I wouldn’t be able to make our case to the Jedi Council.” He gripped her shoulders. “You have to believe me, Ahsoka! I would never let any harm come to you!”

Ahsoka scoffed. “I know you would’ve tried, Master, but not a single member of the Council was willing to believe me. Not Master Plo, not Master Kenobi, not Master Yoda. You would’ve stood alone against them. And you know as well as I do that they probably wouldn’t have believed you either.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time,” Anakin muttered.

“Exactly,” Ahsoka said. “We both know they don’t need more reasons to judge you.” She crossed her arms. “Ugh, forget it. Tell me—how did you find us?”

“I could feel you in the Force,” Anakin said. “I’ve felt our bond flaring up, stronger than ever before. I was afraid you were in danger, so I followed the feeling, only to find you in a hive of villainy.” The disapproval was evident in his voice. Ahsoka knew how he felt about cantinas and taverns, given his childhood.

“We didn’t really have a choice,” she said. “Our ship broke down, and we had to stop to get it fixed.” Her mouth lifted in an amused smirk. “Now Echo is cheating those very villains you speak of out of their credits so we can afford the repairs.”

Anakin’s eyes widened. “Wait—did you say Echo? You don’t mean ARC Corporal Echo of the 501st, do you?”

Ahsoka nodded. “I do.” She hesitated for a moment. Was it safe to tell Anakin?

But then she remembered how after he had returned from the Citadel, he had started requesting Fives for more missions, especially ones where he would be in charge. When Ahsoka had taken Anakin aside to scold him for his insensitivity, Anakin had shaken his head and told her that Fives’s obvious grief was why he had been sending him on more missions. He had said that for men like him, having to sit around with their miserable thoughts was far worse than fighting on the front lines, being reminded that they still had something to live for.

Ahsoka had been so touched by her master’s consideration and understanding. Everyone in the galaxy had heard of the Hero With No Fear, but they had no idea how kind he could be.

She was counting on that part of him now.

“Maybe it’d be better if you saw for yourself,” Ahsoka said. She grabbed her comlink. “Boys? Come back to the room to say hi to the General when you have a chance, will you?”

“Sure thing, Commander,” Rex answered.

As they waited for the vod’e to join them, Ahsoka asked Anakin for an update on the state of the war. Fives had the damn news holos on every day, around the clock, but listening to reports aimed at civilians wasn’t remotely the same as hearing directly from the front lines. He spoke of the 501st’s triumph on Prefsbelt, the pursuit of Grievous through the Ferra sector, and the futility of the campaign on Anaxes and how the tide had turned so suddenly in their favor.

Ahsoka bit back a smile at that. She’d wait for the others before she spilled that little tale, but hearing how their actions had made a difference in more than just their own lives and saved so many others was immensely satisfying.

The door chime sounded. “Come in,” Ahsoka said.

Rex was first, and Fives and Echo behind him. They stood at attention as the door closed behind them. “General, sir!” Rex greeted.

“At ease, boys,” Anakin said. “Ahsoka tells me you’ve been busy.”

“You could say that,” Rex said, and he stepped forward, no longer blocking the view of the others.

Anakin gasped. “Kriffing hells. Fives? Echo! It’s really you!”

“Hey, General,” Fives said.

Echo saluted. Ahsoka still wasn’t used to seeing the scomp at the end of his arm. “It’s been a while, sir,” he said.

“I thought you were both...” Anakin exhaled, dashing forward. “Well, I’ll be broggled. I have so many questions.” Abruptly, he pulled them into a loose embrace. Fives’s expression was alarmed as he patted him awkwardly on the back. Ahsoka snorted a laugh.

“I’m glad you’re both in one piece,” Anakin said as he released them.

“Well, mostly,” Echo said dryly, and Anakin chuckled.

“Still got your sense of humor, I see.” He eyed Echo’s cybernetic arm. “Looks like we have something new in common, now,” he said, wiggling the fingers of his right arm. “You mind if I take a look?”

“Go ahead,” Echo said. Gently, Anakin took Echo’s arm in his.

While Anakin examined Echo, he said, “I’m guessing you were captured on Lola Sayu, then.”

“Yes,” Echo said, head dipping in shame. “Techno Union turned me into a computer that could predict the GAR’s strategies and generate ways to get around them. They programmed me to take down the very Republic I swore to protect and then sold me to the highest bidder. Rex said you were fighting on Anaxes. Trench had me kill so many there. I’m so sorry, sir.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Anakin said. He gripped Echo’s arm. “Do you understand, Echo? None of that's your fault. If anything, it was our fault for not realizing you were in enemy hands. I’m sorry I didn’t come get you.” His mouth curved into a wry smile. “You’ll be happy to know that I killed Trench myself.”

“That is good news,” Echo said.

“The Techno Union won’t be a problem anymore either,” Ahsoka added.

Alarm sparked from the other side of their bond. Anakin narrowed his eyes at her. “We got notice of the destruction of the Techno Union’s headquarters a few days ago,” he said. “Are you saying that was you?”

Ahsoka’s lip curled. “They deserved it.”

“That was reckless, Ahsoka,” Anakin scolded. “And it’s going to make things very complicated for the Republic.”

“We didn’t act on behalf of the Republic,” Ahsoka retorted. “Not as far as they know, anyway. We were independent agents, avenging what they did to our friend. You would’ve done the same.”

“And what about Wat Tambor? Obi-Wan said Cody had captured him. Was that you all as well?”

“So what if it was?” Ahsoka said. “We all know he sits on the Separatist Council but plays both sides. I thought you’d be glad we did what the Republic failed to. And now a witness of the Separatists’ crimes is in your custody.”

Anakin sighed. “Let’s hope he stays that way,” he said. To Echo, he noted, “These mech-no limbs they gave you are crude. I’d be happy to upgrade them, if you’d like. But I know what it’s like to be in thrall to someone, and I get why you might not want anyone rummaging around in there.”

At his gentle words, the tension seeped out of Ahsoka. Echo’s eyes widened with surprise, then filled with understanding. “I’d be honored, sir.”

Anakin nodded, letting go of his arm. He turned back to Ahsoka. “You said there was something wrong with your ship, right? If you lend me some standard tools, I can take a look at it, too.”

Ahsoka squinted at him. “You’re not going to put a tracker on it, are you?”

Anakin snorted. “You think I’d do that?”

“Hmm, let me think,” Ahsoka said, feigning deep thought. “Yes...”

Chuckling, Anakin said, “Hey, you want a working ship or not?”

Ahsoka rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. “Fine. Come on. Jesse will be happy to see you.”

Jesse, who had just awoken from a nap when Rex had commed him to inform him that he and the others were coming to the hangar, startled when he saw none other than General Skywalker himself coming up the ramp.

He stiffened to attention. “Sir? What are you doing here?”

“I ran into some mutual friends at a cantina,” the General said cheerfully. “It’s good to see you, Jesse.”

“Good to see you, too, sir.” Jesse glanced at Rex, who shrugged. Behind him, Fives and Commander Tano were each juggling a stack of boxes. Jesse’s stomach rumbled at the unmistakable fragrance of planetside food.

“Is that food?” he asked eagerly. “Real food?”

“Yup, can you believe it?” Fives replied, grinning. “Echo is treating us tonight.”

“With what credits?” Jesse demanded, though he was already salivating. He’d only ever had the chance to eat natborn food a few times in his life. “You just came back, vod!”

Echo smirked. “With my winnings from the sabacc tables.”

Fives slapped his back and grinned at Jesse. “A thousand credits, vod! Never thought I’d see that many in my life.”

Jesse whistled. “And you’re willing to share them with these di’kut’e?” He looked around. “I mean, excluding the General and the Commander, of course.”

“Of course,” General Skywalker said dryly, a fond smile on his face.

While Jesse and the others passed around the boxes of aromatic food, devouring their first complete meal in ages and arguing over which box they wanted next in the rotation, the General sprawled on the floor of the ship and had Echo sit on one of the seats beside him. He had Echo start by removing one of his cybernetic legs, and immediately began tinkering with it.

At one point, with a minispanner held between his teeth, the General tugged his right glove off and opened up his mech-no arm to unscrew a component and attach it to Echo’s.

Alarmed, Echo said hurriedly, “General, you don’t need to sacrifice your parts for me.”

“Relax,” General Skywalker replied. “I have plenty of these back on the Resolute.”

Rex leaned forward eagerly. “How is the Resolute, sir? How is the fleet?”

The General updated them on the Outer Rim Sieges as he began welding two wires together. They listened attentively to the description of the battles and the strategies the 501st and the 7th Sky had been employing. Echo sagged when he reported the casualties on Anaxes, and Fives held him close.

Jesse smiled, beyond glad to see them reunited. He had been so afraid to believe Echo could truly be alive—afraid for Fives to get his hopes up only for them to be mercilessly crushed. He had prepared to comfort him, to do everything he could to bring him back from the brink, just as he had after the strike team had returned from the Citadel. Back then, even when Fives had stubbornly tried to push them all away in his grief, Jesse hadn’t held it against him. If it were Kix who’d died, there was no telling what Jesse would be willing to do.

He swallowed thickly at the grim thought and asked, “Is Kix okay, sir?”

“Anaxes took a huge toll on him mentally,” General Skywalker said, sympathetic, and Jesse nodded. That had been clear from their last call. “Physically, he’s gotten a little banged up here and there—blaster bolts to the leg, a couple broken ribs—but you know Kix. He doesn’t let anything get him down.”

Jesse laughed, his relief a tangible thing uncoiling in his stomach. “He sure doesn’t. Thank you, General.”

“Does High Command think the war’s end is in sight, sir?” Rex wondered.

“They’re being cautious, as usual,” General Skywalker said, rolling his eyes, “but I think there’s a chance we can finally rout the Separatists for good.” He began hammering at the metal and added pointedly, “You know, we might have a greater chance of winning it if we had our commander and top soldiers with us.”

Rex made an uneasy noise. “Sir...”

“What? Don’t think I’ve forgotten no one’s told me why you’re out here instead of on the front lines with us. Someone wanna let me in on what the kriff is going on?”

Commander Tano and Fives exchanged glances, and he signed, You take point?

She sighed and signed back, I have the bridge. They all nodded, understanding that she wanted to control the narrative. “I want to tell you, Master. But I’m afraid you won’t believe me.”

“Try me,” General Skywalker retorted.

“Where should I begin?”

“Well, for one—I’m guessing Fives shook the virus that made him try to assassinate the Chancellor?”

“I extracted him before he could hurt anyone or be captured by the Guard,” Commander Tano said before Fives could jump in and lie poorly. “But Tup didn’t kill Master Tiplar because he was infected with a virus. Fives was the first to figure it out.”

“Figure out what?”

“The conspiracy at the heart of the Republic,” Commander Tano said. “Its very core is rotten, and I have reason to suspect it’s due to the machinations of the Sith.”

Fives’s voice wobbled as he told the General about the chip he’d extracted from Tup’s head and of being blamed by the Kaminoans for causing his death. Echo, Rex, and Jesse all reached for him, touching his elbow, petting his knee, and squeezing his shoulder in comfort, and letting him take a moment to suck in quivering breaths. Once he had gathered himself, he continued speaking, telling the General about the Kaminoans’ claims regarding the chips’ purpose, and how he had discovered they were lying. He spoke of how he’d discovered that every embryo was injected with them, and of how he’d been drugged by Nala Se on the way back to Coruscant, told him how terrified he’d been that the Guards would find him and detain him, and he’d never get the chance to explain that he intended to save them all.

“And they all have them, Master,” the Commander said. “Every clone in the GAR has been implanted with a chip in their brain that can take away their free will.”

“Kix did scans on us and removed the chips from our heads, sir,” Jesse pitched in. He retrieved his datapad and pulled up the post-op report Kix had put together and begun distributing to the other medics, then handed it to General Skywalker.

“The Kaminoans told me that taking my chip out would make me more aggressive,” Fives said. “But that hasn’t happened to any of us, sir.”

“If it had,” Commander Tano noted, “I wouldn’t be sitting here right now.”

The General scrutinized the report, stopping on a brain scan, the position of the chip a blinking red dot. “So what does this mean? You think the Kaminoans have been playing both sides all along?” he growled.

“We believe so,” Commander Tano said, “but we don’t know to what extent. According to the men, the Kaminoans have only ever cared about their own scientific advancement. They were likely paid to do it.

“We think whoever commissioned the chips had the goal of eradicating the Jedi Order. They could be behind the bombings, too, and trying to pin it on me to get rid of me because I know too much.”

“The Sith have been busy, then,” General Skywalker said wryly.

“They seem to have been one step ahead of us the entire time,” the Commander said. “And the Council has no idea about any of this, do they?”

The General sighed. “Not as far as I’m aware, though that doesn’t mean much these days,” he said, something bitter and almost whiny creeping into his tone. “And we both know they won’t do anything without evidence.”

“Except label me a traitor,” the Commander muttered under her breath. She continued, “We’ve been planning to visit Kamino to get them that proof. The bounty hunters have complicated things, though. They’re the ones who busted the hyperdrive.”

“Bounty hunters?” General Skywalker interrupted. “There’s a bounty on your heads? Who hired them?”

“I don’t know,” Ahsoka said. “But the bounties are enormous. They must have been issued by someone who doesn’t want the truth about the chips to get out.”

“Or the bombings,” the General considered. “Unless they’re one and the same.”

“Exactly our thinking, sir,” Rex said. “So before we went to Skako Minor, we tracked down the nano-droids used in at least the first bombing. I don’t think it was any coincidence that they were manufactured by the Techno Union.”

“That’s on the datapad, too,” Jesse said, nodding toward it. “As well as some correspondences Echo and I decrypted. If you bring those files back to the Council, General, maybe they’ll look into it.”

“I’ll make sure of it,” General Skywalker said, something dark in his voice.

Ahsoka’s comlink beeped. “Ashla here,” she said, and signed for them to continue while she stepped out of the ship.

“Per our last contact with Kix, clone medics have been steadily removing chips, and approximately 0.007 percent of troopers have had their chips removed,” Jesse said.

“That’s a pretty small number,” General Skywalker said doubtfully. “What can we do to accelerate the process?”

“We’ve been cautious,” Rex said. “Pardon the disrespect, sir, but we’ve only told a few trusted commanders about our findings. We’ve been worried that if the Jedi or the navy got word of what we’re doing, they’d try to stop us.”

“Or worse, accidentally tell whoever’s responsible, not realizing it’ll lead to their own extermination,” Fives said, biting.

“Fives,” Jesse cut in.

The General waved him off. “No, I get it,” he said. “But now you have me on your side. And even if the Council doesn’t trust me, they’ll want to see what I bring them. So spread the word, and get those surgeries going as quickly as possible, because we have to be ready for whenever the enemy makes their move. ”

“Yes, sir,” Rex said. “Thank you, sir.”

“No thanks are necessary, Rex,” the General said. “You men have saved my life a thousand times over. It’s the least I can do.” He scrubbed his eyes, and his usually emotive voice flattened as he added, “Growing up, I had a chip implanted in me, too. They said that if we—if I left the chip’s transmitter range, it would blow up.”

Jesse exchanged a startled glance with Fives while the General touched the back of his neck as if on reflex, the way a brother did after they lost a limb and had to remind themselves it wasn’t there anymore.

“I know better than any other Jedi how it feels to be at someone’s mercy—to be truly helpless,” General Skywalker continued. “Those who haven’t lived it... They’ll never understand. They can’t. So you could say I have a personal investment in taking down whoever’s responsible for this atrocity.”

By the time he finished speaking, Jesse, Rex, and Fives had gotten to their feet and snapped sharp salutes at him. With his legs still before General Skywalker, Echo did the same from his seat.

“We’re honored, General,” Rex declared.

Coming back up the gangway, Commander Tano blinked at them. “What’s going on?”

“Oh, you know,” the General replied, “just bonding over slave chips.” He ignored Commander Tano’s raised eye ridges and kneeled beside Echo to help him fit his prostheses back on. “There you go,” he said to him. “Try standing up now.”

With Fives hovering at his side, Echo did, and his jaw dropped as he stood at full height.

“Well?” General Skywalker said, arms on his hips with that familiarly cocky confidence. “How do they feel?”

“Massively improved, sir,” Echo said, as he strode across the room and back. “The joints feel much smoother.”

“I have some ideas for modifications for the mech-no arm—a hand, for one—but I’ll need to draw up some blueprints and get my hands on some new materials first.”

Echo’s eyes were wide. “You really don’t need to go through all that trouble, sir,” he protested.

“Hey, it’s not often I get to work on someone else’s mechno limbs,” the General replied. “Call it solidarity—or intellectual curiosity, if that suits you better.”

Echo grinned. “Guess I can’t argue with that. Thank you, General. You don’t know what it means to me.”

The General smiled. “You’re welcome, Echo.” He squeezed his shoulder. “I’m just glad to have my favorite ARC trooper back.”

“Hey, wait a minute!” Fives interjected as Echo and the General both laughed. “What’s that supposed to mean?!”

Volda met them with the crate of replacement parts for the hyperdrive and even gave them a discount on the previously agreed-upon price since they no longer needed installation services. As Ahsoka thanked her, Volda grabbed her left arm, and with a cheerful wink, programmed her comm frequency into Ahsoka’s comlink. Ahsoka’s face heated. She was extremely grateful Anakin had remained back on the ship, because she didn’t think she would’ve been able to take his teasing. As it was, Rex’s raised eyebrows had her glaring at him.

When they returned to the ship, Anakin and the boys were still talking and laughing. Jesse and Echo were polishing their blasters, and Fives was touching up the gray paint on his armor. For a second, it felt as if it could’ve been any day on the Resolute or any other Venator in the 501st's fleet, and Ahsoka was filled with a sense of grief for what they had sacrificed to realize their self-appointed mission.

Then Anakin spotted her and smiled, rising from his seat on the floor. “Come on, Snips. Let’s go get this ship sorted out,” he said.

Signing a quick all-clear at the others, Ahsoka followed him, recognizing his not-so-subtle desire to speak to her alone.

“You should have told me,” Anakin said as they exited the ship and went around back. “Before you left. We could’ve gone to the Council together to tell them what Fives had found.”

“You weren’t at the Temple,” Ahsoka pointed out as they began dismantling the ship’s hyperdrive. “I wouldn’t have been able to reach you even if I’d tried.”

“Oh,” Anakin said, face pink at the implication, just as she’d expected.

“Besides, if you’ll recall, I was kind of busy being hunted down by that very Council,” she added.

Anakin sighed. “Right.” He rolled up his sleeves and began taking the hyperdrive apart.

“I will need your help, Master,” Ahsoka said as a peace offering. “Given that the Council doesn’t trust me, it'll be up to you to get them to listen.”

Anakin snorted. “Right, ’cause the Council has such a strong history of trusting me.”

“Master Kenobi trusts you,” Ahsoka pointed out. “And the rest of the Council trusts him. So if you can get him to listen...”

“He didn’t trust me with the Rako Hardeen plot,” Anakin muttered. “None of them did.”

“Well, they've still trusted you enough to never accuse you of being a terrorist.”

Anakin sobered. “You’ve got me there,” he said, sighing. “All right. I’ll present the intel to them, and with any luck, arrange for a holomeeting for us to all talk.” He held his palm out. “Now hand me the wrench.”

Ahsoka deposited it in his hand and began sorting the replacement parts. She watched Anakin work out of the corner of her eye, assisting him where directed, and reached out into their bond. It seemed to feel even stronger than it had before, though it was likely because she had forgotten how it felt to have her master near, blazing like a supernova in the Force.

She considered what the Daughter and that apparition of her future self had told her about the Darkness within him and how it had influenced her. She knew her master was unlike the other Jedi and embodied so many things she had been taught to be wary of, but she had never truly believed he was capable of Falling. He was so powerful that she had long believed he would never Fall simply because he would will it so.

With what the Daughter had guided her to learn, though, she could sense it in him, as if the Dark were made of particles that clung to him, spurring on the white-hot fire just barely contained within. Inside herself, they felt like a building storm. But they were a fierce hurricane inside Anakin, the storm feeling as if it’d been ongoing for many years—perhaps his entire life.

If Ahsoka was at risk of Falling and just barely holding herself back, then Anakin must be constantly standing on a precipice, on the thinnest thread, between Light and Dark. And if that were the case, anything could tip him either way, couldn’t it?

Ahsoka thought back to how close Anakin was to the Chancellor, as she had the night Fives had told her about the plot—and this time the realization struck her like lightning.

Through her mind raced the philosophy she had been taught as a youngling and the history books she had perused in the Jedi Archives before they had to leave Coruscant. Knowing Dooku was a Sith Lord had led her to the realization that Palpatine must also be one, whether the master or the apprentice. But she hadn’t considered...

Could Anakin’s friendship with Palpatine be part of the Sith’s terrifying plans? Could they intend to have Anakin play a part in their insidious plot? After all, her master was the prophesied Chosen One, rumored to be destined to bring balance to the Force. There was no way the Sith could be immune to the prospect of controlling that kind of raw power.

But if that were true, it would mean Anakin was in grave danger.

“What is it?” Anakin asked, likely feeling her distress through the bond.

“I’m worried about you, Master,” Ahsoka said.

“Me?” he said. “What do you have to worry about me for? You’re the one who’s out here all alone.”

“I’m not alone,” she said, rolling her eyes. “And I can take care of myself.”

He sagged. “I know, I know.”

“I fear that whoever’s behind this plot intends to involve you,” she explained. “And I’m afraid they’ll get to you.”

“Well, I can take care of myself, too, you know,” Anakin teased, and Ahsoka smiled crookedly as she helped him weld together some of the new parts.

“Guess I fell right into that one.”

Anakin lowered his voice. “Do you know who’s behind it?”

“No,” Ahsoka said. “I have my suspicions, though.”

“Of who?”

She replied, “If I tell you, you won’t believe me.”

“Of course I’ll believe you,” Anakin insisted. “You must have proof, right?”

“It’s not sufficient enough to draw a conclusion. Not yet.” Ahsoka closed her eyes. “If I tell you, I risk endangering the men and the mission. And no mission is more important than this.”

“You can trust me,” Anakin promised, though he looked less certain knowing that she didn’t have concrete evidence to back up her claims.

Ahsoka shook her head. “I will, Master. But not right now. Do you understand?”

“Ahsoka...”

“You said you believed me, right? You trusted me? So keep trusting me. Please, Master. The fate of the galaxy is at stake. I feel as if the Force is hovering in wait. I’m afraid that one misstep will doom us all.”

Anakin exhaled. “Okay,” he said, gripping her shoulder with his slightly less greasier hand. “I don’t like it, Ahsoka. But I’ll trust you.”

“Thank you, Master,” Ahsoka said, clasping her left hand over her right fist and lowering her head.

Anakin stopped her, gently pulling her up from the bow. “There’s no need for that between us. No matter what happens...you’ll still be my Snips.”

Ahsoka smiled. “And you’ll always be my Skyguy.”

“Glad to hear it,” Anakin said, returning her smile. “Now help me run some tests.”

Once they finished installing the hyperdrive and confirming it worked, Ahsoka said, “I do mean it, Master.” She looked into his eyes and desperately tried to impress upon him the necessity of the matter. “You must be cautious. Do not trust those around you. I suspect the mastermind of this plot may wear the face of someone familiar. Someone dear, even.”

Anakin looked stricken. “What do you mean?”

“All may not be what it seems,” Ahsoka said.

“Ugh,” Anakin complained, breaking the tension. “Who would’ve believed that you would turn out to be even more opaque than Master Yoda or Master Jinn?”

Despite her nerves, Ahsoka laughed and elbowed him. Anakin had always been able to bring that out in her when she felt stressed and under pressure. She had missed him deeply. With Anakin behind her, she always felt as if she could do anything.

He slapped the hyperdrive. “All right,” he said. “You should be good to go. Which means you owe me one now.”

“You mean you didn’t help me out of the goodness of your heart?” Ahsoka teased. “What kind of master are you?”

Anakin narrowed his eyes at her. “Careful, little one.”

Ahsoka smirked even as fondness swelled in her heart. Their camaraderie, their easy affection, and the way their bond filled with light when they were together—she had desperately missed these precious things.

“Guess I should be going now,” Anakin said. “Appo is probably frying a circuit trying to cover for me.”

Ahsoka giggled. It was still strange to think of Appo, who she had first met as a fresh shiny, as a captain. Since she had first joined the GAR, Rex had seemed invulnerable, and even though they were perpetually ten centimeters from death, the thought of anyone taking his place was bizarre.

“Come on,” Anakin said as he finished reassembling the toolkit. “I’ll say goodbye to the men and take my leave.”

“Wait,” Ahsoka said as he turned away. “Master.”

If the slightest thing might tip him into the Dark side, then perhaps those little things were what were needed to keep him in the Light. Perhaps, now that she was no longer obliged to the Jedi Code, she could admit that she loved her men, as she loved her master. They were attachments she had tried and failed to shed for so long, but as she had told Rex, the requirements were only suggestions now. She was forging her own path. And with the Daughter's guidance, she had been learning to find strength in love, in devotion, in loyalty—though she had still been holding true to the Jedi principle of not asking for or coveting any of it in return. Her love was freely offered, just like a parent's might be to a child.

She thought, as she often had since their mission on Kiros, of Anakin's mother and how, unlike all the other Jedi, he had grown up with her. She wondered if she had loved him. She wondered if, when he had come to the Temple, he had missed receiving that unconditional love.

Before Ahsoka lost her courage, she bounded over to wrap Anakin in a hug, uncaring of their grease-covered fingers or the toolkit in his hand.

“I love you, Anakin,” she said, cheek pressed against the leatheris of his Jedi robes. “Thank you for being my master, and my brother, and my friend. Without your support, I wouldn’t be who I am today.”

“Ahsoka,” Anakin said, shock evident in his voice as he wrapped his arms around her. “Where’s all this coming from?”

When she shook her head, overwhelmed and determined and a little shy, simply squeezing him tighter, he said gently, “You honor me. No matter what the Code says—I love you, too.” He leaned his cheek against her montrals, and she didn’t say anything about the wetness she felt on his face. “This isn’t goodbye. Swear to me that we’ll meet again. I need to know you’ll be okay.”

“I swear, Master,” Ahsoka said. “You leave me in good hands.” She patted his back. “But you should swear this to me, too: Guard yourself, against both external forces and those inside yourself. Keep your mind clear, and remember your teachings.”

Anakin huffed. “Who’s the master and who’s the Padawan here, huh?” he joked. But then he pulled away and looked into her eyes, steadfast and reliable—and most of all, loyal and loving.

“I will, Ahsoka,” he said. “I swear it.”

His words rang true in their bond, and Ahsoka sunk into his embrace once more, holding back tears of her own. She was determined to be worthy of his faith.

Let Palpatine try to tear them apart. No matter what he attempted, he would fail.

Chapter Text

“We have hope. Hope that things will get better. And they will.”
—Hera Syndulla

Fives dreamed of a temple burning.

He ran through long, unfamiliar halls in the bowels of the building, and even the filters on his bucket were not enough to filter out the ghastly odor of burning bodies. The cacophony of blasters firing and lightsabers deflecting their bolts should have sounded familiar, almost comforting, but it instead made his head pound. He could hear voices screaming, at once close and far, and despite the many fires that blazed all around him, the entire place was draped in an unbearable cold.

He felt it in his bones—certainty that this was the Jedi Temple on Coruscant, the sacred home of those who had fought alongside him and his brothers.

He turned a corner, and his heart nearly stopped as he took in the confounding sight of a squad of clone troopers in familiar 501st blue shooting incessantly at a roaring Jedi, her robes billowing as she tried in vain to deflect all their blaster bolts, even attempting to redirect them away from the very men firing on her. The too-still bodies of Jedi littered the hallway all around her, and soon enough, she too collapsed to the ground, becoming yet another one of them.

One of the slain was a Padawan who wore a vambrace painted with the emblem of the Fifth Marine Corps, two blue-green waves protruding from a circle. Vod’e had bestowed that paint upon her. It was a symbol of mutual regard.

Stomach twisting, Fives rose on unsteady feet and demanded, “What have you done?” The sergeant turned, and Fives inhaled sharply as he took in the stylish zigzags painted down the front of his kit. “Flareup?”

“CT-5555,” he said, his voice strangely emotionless and the way he held his body unnervingly stiff. Flareup was passionate and defensive, so much so that he had been named after his temper.

“Are you questioning our orders?” Flareup asked. “Good soldiers follow orders.”

Fives jolted. Tup had said those words after he killed General Tiplar.

Something was very wrong.

Unnerved, he turned and bolted in the other direction. The knowledge that he was too late, that the events in motion could not be stopped, pressed down on him. Still, he had never been one to give up. There had to be something he could do, someone he could go to for help.

As he ran toward what he hoped was the High Council Chamber, he was suddenly aware of a dark presence following him. On instinct, Fives slapped the door panel of the nearest room and ducked through it. He found a refectory on the other side and immediately backed up against the nearest wall. He grabbed automatically for his blasters, only to find them missing from his holsters. Panic gripped him.

The doors slid open.

A wraith stood at the threshold, wreathed in black that blended in with the smoke wafting in from outside the room. Sickly yellow eyes stared out from underneath the cloak, narrowed into a furious glare.

The specter looked right at him, and Fives’s blood ran cold. His hair was a matted mess and longer than Fives had ever seen it, but he knew that face, knew the set of those shoulders, though he had never seen such hatred in his features, such rage and despair rolling off of him. He was flanked by more troopers from the 501st, none of whom seemed fazed by the wrongness of the man leading them.

Five small beings darted out from the kitchens, their Padawan beads and braids swinging. “Master Skywalker, you have to help us!” cried the Tholothian.

“The troopers started shooting at us out of nowhere!” the Rodian added indignantly.

Instead of answering them, Skywalker ignited his lightsaber, and Fives’s blood ran cold as he immediately understood his intentions. The cold that he had felt as he ran through the Temple surged around Skywalker, who was like a void, suffocating the air and drowning Fives in a dark, unyielding dread.

His gut churning, he ran between Skywalker and the Padawans, shouting, “No! Don’t do it, General!”

“You can’t stop me,” he intoned, just as emotionless as Flareup.

“General, please!” Fives begged. Behind him, the Padawans had drawn their lightsabers and huddled together, and he could feel their fear, too, more immediate and less oppressive than Skywalker’s despite their being seconds from death.

“You are weak, just like the Jedi,” Skywalker said flatly, and lifted his lightsaber to strike Fives down.

Fives snapped awake.

The blaze of endless fire and stench of charred corpses felt no less strong upon waking. His hand was pressed to his chest, in the place where the ghoul who wore General Skywalker’s face had stabbed him. Fives blinked away the tears blurring his vision. The dream had felt so clear and so real, unlike the hazy ones he used to have before his chip had been removed, of not being able to control his limbs.

“Fives?” came Echo’s voice from behind him. His right arm was slung over Fives’s middle, and Fives could feel the metal of the scomp link digging into his hip, a pressure that had become a comfort over the past week. “You okay?”

Fives trembled. Not two days ago, General Skywalker had volunteered to take the time to upgrade Echo’s prostheses, sacrificing parts from his own mechno arm to increase Echo’s comfort and capabilities. Echo had repeatedly mentioned how much better the updated tech felt, beaming with pride at the honor of the General himself making the modifications. And the General had joked around with them while they ate; had believed them when they told him about their quest; had wished them well as he departed, his reluctance evident in the way he kept dragging on their goodbyes.

So why would Fives dream such an awful thing?

His stomach churned with revulsion. That cold, furious look from the General-who-wasn’t stuck with him and made him question the validity of his recent memories. Uncannily, it reminded him of what Palpatine had told him in the medical facility, about his horrendous plan to use the vod’e to exterminate the Jedi—about how easy it was going to be to get the Jedi’s trusted soldiers to take them unawares and kill them.

But it hadn’t seemed like merely a dream Fives’s imagination had conjured up from his anxieties. He had felt as if he were there, seeing the events unfold right before his eyes. Weighing on him had been the strange sense that someone had been trying to convey something to him without the use of words.

“Just a nightmare,” he assured Echo, rubbing his arm gently. “Go back to sleep, love.”

But Fives stayed awake for many hours afterward, afraid of what other unnerving dreams further sleep might bring.

As their ship plunged into Kamino’s atmosphere, the fierce storm sweeping across the planet’s equator made the ship tremble through rocky turbulence and their sensors go berserk. Rex gripped the back of Commander Tano’s pilot seat, watching their progress through the viewport as she fought to retain control of the vessel. Beside her, Echo was flicking switches on the dashboard, determined and focused, his scomplink whirring in the astromech slot. Only a few minutes prior, he had gotten them through the Republic fleet in orbit with the acquisition of GAR shuttle codes, using the ship’s new callsign—the Fulcrum—and now all they had to do was figure out how to get into Tipoca City itself.

Being back here always made Rex feel an odd mix of dread and nostalgia. Kamino was the closest thing the vod’e had to home, and yet it had been here where some of their worst memories had been formed. Their upbringing had been hard and at times cruel, and it wasn’t until Rex had been deployed that he’d truly understood how starkly it differed from those of other children in the galaxy. For so long, he had told himself that it was a great honor to have been created to serve the Republic, that his life’s purpose was to fight its enemies in order to protect its citizens.

But what Fives had learned about the true reason for their existence had mangled that patriotism, warped it into the wistful perspective of a naive young man—into a thought Rex now wondered if was even his own, or if it’d been implanted within him—within all his brothers—just as the so-called inhibitor chip had.

“Hang tight, boys,” Commander Tano said as she jerked the ship up at a steep angle to combat an aggressive gale as they continued their descent. “Echo, I’m not seeing this landing pad you found on those buried schematics!”

“It’s here, sir,” Echo said, and the cockpit screen zeroed in on the coordinates.

This part of the planet was in its day cycle, but the light of its primary was dampened by the blanket of thunderclouds in the sky. The rain pounded down so hard they could barely see out the transparisteel, though Rex knew from memory that the gray, turbulent waters that spanned the planet must be sloshing beneath them just as wildly.

Rex glanced at Fives, who stood behind Echo, staring pensively out the viewport. Rex had expected him to be excited, now that this day had finally come. They had eluded Palpatine’s bounty hunters, they had kept their ship in one piece, and they had finally made it to the edge of the known galaxy. But Fives had been reserved in the past few days, seeming to frequently be lost in thought.

“I haven’t been back here since the Battle of Kamino,” Rex said to him.

It seemed to do the job of snapping Fives out of his reverie. “Yeah, well, I don’t recommend it,” he replied, wry.

As they neared the choppy ocean surface, with no landing pad in sight, Fives leaned forward and muttered, “Uh...Echo?”

Rex frowned, peering out the viewport as well. He couldn’t see anything either. Besides, by this point, they were much too far out from the military complex for any landing pad that might be there to offer them access into it.

“Trust me,” Echo said, not a single ounce of hesitation in his tone. To Commander Tano, he said, “Keep going, sir.”

After a moment, the Commander gasped. “Looks like the scanners are picking up a large structure beneath us.”

“Steady,” Echo reiterated.

Moments later, out of the water beneath the ship sprung a landing pad. Fives whooped, clapping Echo on the shoulder.

Rex exhaled. They were so close.

“Now what?” Fives asked as he followed Echo, Jesse, and the Commander down the gangway. He had changed back into the kit he’d stolen from the shiny the last time he’d been here, and repainted it white. Even though it still couldn’t compete with his old ARC trooper kit, and he didn’t have a bucket, it still felt nice to be back in proper armor.

Rex had stayed behind to act as backup in case either their ship was discovered or the rest of them got apprehended.

The Commander walked over to what appeared to be a door a few meters from where they had landed. She stretched her hand out, and a moment later, the door was dragging itself open, and a spherical carriage decorated with the bright, uniform lights that lined the Tipoca City corridors appeared.

“Now we ride this tube system into the city,” Echo said, hurrying over to the carriage’s control panel.

Plummeting downward, the carriage took them through a suboceanic tunnel, the transparisteel of both the carriage and the tunnel allowing them to see out into the depths of the murky ocean. Fives thought he may have seen a flock of aiwha swim by.

“So what awaits us on the other end of this thing?” Commander Tano asked.

“We’ll find out when we get there,” Jesse said wryly. “These tunnels didn’t appear in any of the schematics Echo and I found. But we figured the carriage had to lead somewhere.”

Jesse was wearing his old kit—his proper one—and weirdly, something about seeing the whole ensemble, painted lovingly in the familiar 501st blue, made Fives’s skin crawl. Through his mind flashed the images from his dream, of Flareup cold and empty, and of a platoon from Orray Company flanking the man who looked like Skywalker but felt nothing like him.

Shuddering, Fives tried to tell himself he had simply gotten used to the crew wearing bounty hunter garb.

Echo laid a hand on his arm. “Are you all right?” he murmured.

Fives winced. Echo had enough going on, and he didn’t need to be burdened with Fives’s jumpiness. “I’m fine,” Fives answered, plastering a smile on his face. “Don’t worry.”

After all the time they had been apart, Echo still knew him too well to buy his lie, and he leveled a devastatingly skeptical look at him.

Fives was saved by the carriage arriving at the other end of the tunnel. As it turned out, what awaited them there was a small child with short, blond hair and a startled, wide-eyed expression.

“Hello,” she said, pleasant with just the slightest edge of accusation. “Who are you?”

“Uh...” Jesse said uncertainly. “Who are you?”

“Omega, who are you talking to?” A medical droid emerged from behind a console nearby.

Lighting up, Fives stepped forward. “Hey, AZI,” he said. “Remember me?”

“CT-5555!” AZI-3 exclaimed happily, his body spinning while his head remained in place. “It is wonderful to see you again.”

“You too, buddy.” Fives gestured to the rest of them. “AZI, these are my friends: Echo, Jesse, and...”

“Ashla,” Ahsoka offered.

“Right,” Fives said. “And this is AZI-3. When I was here before, he helped me remove both Tup’s chip and mine and test them.” He turned back to the happily whirling droid. “Glad you remember me,” he said. “I was worried they were going to decommission you.”

“They certainly tried,” AZI-3 said. He gestured to the young Human. “But Omega stopped them.”

“You have my thanks, then, Omega,” Fives said to the youngling, who had relaxed as soon as AZI-3 had recognized him and was now looking curiously between the two of them.

His words made her beam. “I didn’t think any other clones knew about this lab. What are you all doing here?”

“Any other clones?” Fives repeated.

“Omega is an unaltered clone of Jango Fett,” AZI-3 said. “She is one of only two in existence.”

Fives looked her over, the realization setting in. If not for the Kaminoan-style circlet she wore, she would look like any other clone cadet. Her hair color was even the exact same shade as Rex’s.

“I don’t think you’re supposed to tell anyone that, AZI,” Omega hissed.

“We can trust CT-5555,” AZI-3 insisted. “He is my friend. If he needs our help, I would be pleased to provide it.”

“Aw, thanks, buddy,” Fives said. He crouched down to bring himself closer to both AZI-3’s and Omega’s heights, and explained:

“What I need is a copy of those files we found when I was here before. I tried to tell the authorities about what we had discovered when I returned to Coruscant last time, but they didn’t believe me. My friends did, though, so we’re here to finish the mission—to bring the evidence before the Jedi Council and the Senate and ask them to help us. Before what happened to Tup happens to all of us.”

He reached a hand out. “How about it, AZI? Will you help me complete our mission?”

“Of course I will,” AZI-3 answered. “But I must warn you, it will be extremely risky.”

“We handled it once before, didn’t we?” Fives said. He smirked. “And we even avoided getting reconditioned.”

“That is true,” AZI-3 said.

Omega’s eyes were wide as she looked between them. “Who’s Tup? What happened to him?”

“He was one of my best friends,” Fives said. “He killed a Jedi, because of a chip the Kaminoans put in his head. They denied any wrongdoing, but I found the evidence: We all have them. And it sounds like that might include you.”

“Oh,” Omega said. “You mean the inhibitor chips?”

Fives frowned. She seemed entirely unfazed by the notion. “You know about them?”

Omega nodded. “I help Nala Se around the lab, so I know a lot about the cloning process.”

Fives and Commander Tano exchanged startled glances, and Fives signed, Uncertain. He had never heard of any clones being assigned to personally assist Nala Se. If this kid worked with her and knew about the chips, then it was possible that she was their enemy. She might betray them to the Kaminoans.

But then again, she was only a kid, and she wasn’t armed. Besides, it seemed that she was close friends with AZI-3 and had some kind of pull with Nala Se, if she had prevented him from being wiped after Fives had been taken away. Perhaps any advantage she could provide them would be worth the risk of her giving them up.

Commander Tano seemed to have come to the same conclusion. She crouched beside Fives, looking Omega in the eye. “Would you be willing to help us on our secret mission, Omega?”

“A secret mission?!” she gasped, sounding delighted. Yeah, she was a clone all right.

“Like AZI said, it could be dangerous,” Commander Tano continued. “And we won’t be upset if you’d prefer not to take the risk. But we would value your assistance and your expertise.”

Omega nodded eagerly. “If I can help, I want to!” she declared.

“Thank you,” Commander Tano said. “We are in your debt.”

“This way,” Omega whispered, turning a sharp corner in the maintenance tunnels that criss-crossed above the rooms of the Tipoca City complex.

Ahsoka had lost track of where they were a few floors back—the tunnels all looked identical, with white walls and durasteel and tidy rows of lights. Behind her trailed Echo, who was tracking their trail on a map being projected from his gauntlet.

“You know these tunnels pretty well, huh?” Ahsoka asked as she followed Omega down yet another ladder, moving slowly to make sure she remained close enough to be able to catch Echo, who had to meticulously hook his scomp arm around each rung, with the Force if needed.

“Yup!” Omega answered. “Nala Se doesn’t like it when I leave the lab, but it’s boring staying in there all day, so sometimes I’ll sneak out when she’s away. It’s fun exploring these.” She paused, seeming to be listening for something, before she continued down to the bottom of the ladder.

Keeping a little distance between Omega and herself, Ahsoka whispered, “Echo.”

“Sir?”

“Once we’re down there, let’s take care of any guards necessary quickly and effectively, and avoid being outnumbered. That’s how I lost control on the Rasterous moon, and I don’t want to hurt any vod’e or alert Master Shaak Ti.”

“You got it, Commander.”

“We’re here,” whispered Omega when they got to the bottom of the ladder. She pointed at the emergency access hatch on the floor. “Underneath this is the Genetics Records Hall.”

“Thank you, Omega,” Ahsoka said. “You’ve been a great help. Now stay here for a moment while we scope out the room, okay? We’ll let you know when it’s safe.”

Omega nodded, grinning widely at the praise. “Okay.”

Ahsoka threw her hood over her head and leaped out of the hatch, followed closely by Echo. They clamored down the circular computer console and used it as cover as they took in their surroundings.

The room, which was the same uniform white as all the other rooms in the complex, had high ceilings and neat rows of towering computer consoles with flickering lights. A long table that reminded Ahsoka of the Jedi Archives ran along the middle of the room. At this time of night, there appeared to only be a few Kaminoans still working, plus one squad of guards patrolling.

Ahsoka motioned toward the nearest Kaminoan, and cautiously, they crept closer to where she appeared to be inputting information into the database. Ahsoka kept an eye on the others in the room. When she gave the signal, Echo raised his blaster and fired three stun bolts in quick succession, quickly knocking the Kaminoan out.

She swayed backward, and Ahsoka’s and Echo’s eyes widened as they realized what was about to happen. Together, they just barely managed to catch the Kaminoan before she crashed to the ground and gave their position away. They dragged the unconscious body behind the computer terminals.

Darting quietly across the room, they did the same with two other Kaminoans. But the final one remaining turned before they could move in.

The Kaminoan gasped. “Who are you? Guards!”

The squad of clone troopers hurried over from the other side of the room, a series of stun bolts beginning to fly through the air. Ahsoka ducked and rolled, taking shelter behind another computer console. Echo did the same, his back to a neighboring console.

Before the squad reached them, Echo quickly fired two neat stun bolts at the Kaminoan, who collapsed onto the ground with a cry. As the clone troopers spread out to try to find them, Ahsoka snuck around the terminals and leaped out from behind them, using the element of surprise to quickly disarm the two nearest troopers and knock them out with a few well-placed punches. Echo was doing the same with two others.

“Intruders in the Genetics Record Hall!” the last remaining clone trooper was hissing into his comm. “Requesting immediate backup!”

“Osik,” Ahsoka muttered. With two kicks, she knocked him unconscious. “Hurry, Echo! We won’t have much time.”

As Echo raced over to the nearest terminal and slotted his scomp link in the socket, Ahsoka tapped her comm. “Fives? We’re in. Slight problem: We were spotted, and one of the patrols requested backup. It might keep the heat off you but could also make them send out more patrols.”

“Roger that. We’re about to move into the Embryo Room.”

“Good luck, boys.”

Ahsoka went back over to the maintenance ladder and climbed up enough rungs to rap her knuckles against the metal. “Omega, you can come out now.”

Omega pushed the hatch open and leaped nimbly down the ladder. “I heard fighting,” she said. “What did—” She took in the sight of the unconscious troopers and Kaminoans with wide eyes. “Oh.”

“They’re just stunned,” Ahsoka assured her. “They’ll wake up in fifteen minutes. Now, I need your help. Would you mind guarding the entrance to the hall? If you see Nala Se or Shaak Ti, can you try to lead them away from this room? Otherwise, remain unseen. We’ll handle any other troopers that come our way.”

“You can count on me!” Omega said.

As she stepped out into the corridor, Echo exclaimed, “Sir, I’ve gotten through their encryption!” He jabbed a data spike into another socket, his scomp spinning in an adjacent slot. “Downloading Jango Fett’s genotype now.”

“Good,” Ahsoka said. “Let’s make this quick.”

The doors slid open, revealing a new squad of guards. “Hey, what’s going on in here—”

“Osik!” Ahsoka hissed. “Keep working, Echo. I’ll take care of them.”

Tamping down her instinct to use either her weapons or the Force, Ahsoka advanced and kicked the blasters out of the troopers’ hands, elbowing them in the stomach and sweeping them to the floor with her legs. She did the same with the next two squads that came to investigate, and was ready to continue doing so until Echo was finished—but then the lights flickered off and were replaced with red, flashing emergency lights.

“Intruder alert,” came a trooper’s voice from the loudspeaker. “Intruder alert. All nonessential personnel report to a safe room for lockdown.”

Their comms pinged. “That your handiwork?” Fives hissed.

“Sorry!” Ahsoka replied. “We might have some trouble on the way out. Uh, how are we doing, Echo?”

Echo ejected the data spike. “Got it!”

“All right, let’s get out of here!” Into the comm, she said, “Heading back now.”

Ahsoka was about to reach for the ladder they’d come down when the door to the hall snapped open. She looked up to see Shaak Ti standing upon the threshold, lightsaber ignited.

Panic clutched her. Without hesitation, Echo stepped right up to her side.

Omega was trailing behind Ti as she strode into the room. “I’m sorry!” she said, hanging her head.

“You did well, Omega,” Ahsoka reassured her even as her mind raced with backup plans. “Hello, Master Ti.”

“Ahsoka?” Ti said, eyes wide with alarm. “I sensed something, but I did not expect it to be you. What are you doing here?” Ahsoka noted grimly that she didn’t sheathe her lightsaber, not even when Ahsoka and Echo put their hands up.

“We are on a secret mission,” Ahsoka said. “The fate of the Jedi Order and the Republic is at stake, Master. We intend to save it.”

“Are you not the one who has attacked the Jedi Temple and put it in jeopardy yourself?”

Ahsoka prickled. “That wasn’t me! I’m innocent.”

“You no longer have credibility, Ahsoka,” Ti said. “Surrender yourself to me, or I will bring you in with whatever force necessary. Rest assured, I will ensure you are given a trial.”

“That’s comforting,” Ahsoka said dryly, backing away. “Unfortunately, I can’t do that, Master.”

“Then you give me no choice,” Ti said, bringing her lightsaber down, and Ahsoka just barely dodged the strike.

Echo drew his blaster but hovered, uncertain. Ahsoka shook her head as she climbed up onto the long table in the middle of the room and somersaulted away from Ti, creating some distance between them.

When Ti continued to pursue her, closing the distance all too quickly, Ahsoka exclaimed, “I don’t want to fight! Please, listen to me!”

“I will not listen to a traitor,” Ti said. “Do you even know how many Jedi are dead by your hand? How many troopers and civilians?”

The air around Ahsoka grew tight, her voice filling with intention. “I was framed! You must believe me!”

Ti reeled back, one hand flying up to her temple.

“Commander!” Echo shouted. At the same time, from somewhere deep within her, Ahsoka felt an impression of the Daughter, chiding, Do not succumb to your rage. She shook herself, trying to release her frustration into the Force.

When Ti next lunged at her, Ahsoka leaped toward her instead of away and grabbed hold of her lightsaber hilt, her hands over Ti’s. Staring at it fiercely and summoning only the light side of the Force, she willed the blade back into the hilt. It withdrew with a thrum, and the desperation subsided.

“I won’t fight you, Master,” Ahsoka said.

Ti stared at her lightsaber, then at her. Ahsoka tilted her chin up and looked back at her. They were interrupted by Omega pattering over.

“Please, leave her alone, General Ti!” Omega cried.

Ti rallied, frowning in disapproval, though she did not reignite her saber. “And I see you have recruited Omega to your scheme. Mistress Nala Se will not be pleased.”

“Nala Se almost got Fives killed,” Ahsoka retorted. “I don’t care what she thinks.”

“Is that what this is about?” Ti demanded. “I don’t know what Fives told you, but although he believed he was the victim of a conspiracy, the Grand Republic Medical Facility confirmed that his behavioral chip was simply affected by the parasite from Ringo Vinda. The Senate conducted an investigation, and Nala Se provided her testimony. The troopers have all been innoculated. The matter is concluded.”

“That’s not true, Master Ti,” Ahsoka growled. “The findings were tampered with. There is no parasite. The Senate and the Jedi Council have been lied to.”

Ti’s eyes narrowed. “What proof do you have?”

“Commander,” Echo called. “Permission to provide a copy of the comm logs?”

Ahsoka lit up at the reminder of the logs she, Jesse, and Kix had gathered and Echo and Jesse had decrypted—the ones where Mas Amedda had instructed Nala Se to use whatever means at her disposal to ensure that Fives would appear too aggressive to be believed once they reached Coruscant.

“Good thinking, Echo,” she said. “Permission granted.”

“Echo?” Ti repeated, craning her neck over her shoulder. “Of Domino Squad?”

“General,” Echo said, saluting her. “You remember me?”

“I remember each and every one of the troopers in my care. Although you look different, I see your Force signature is the same,” Ti said. “What has happened to you, trooper?”

“I was captured and experimented on by the Techno Union,” Echo said, and Ti’s eyes widened. “They turned me into a living computer and then turned me on the Republic. So you could say I have a personal investment in ensuring my brothers don’t suffer the same fate. Commander Tano is telling the truth, sir. You have to believe us.”

Ahsoka jumped at the opening. “We intend to share our findings with the Jedi Council, Master Ti,” she said. “I’ve asked Master Skywalker to set up a meeting.” Ti looked back at her. “Think of it this way,” Ahsoka said desperately. “If the Kaminoans aren’t hiding anything, then they should have no problem with us gathering the files on the inhibitor chip, right? If you let us go, we’ll provide you with evidence of the coverup.”

“And if I refuse?”

Ahsoka tilted her chin up. “Then the Sith will win, the Jedi will fall, and the day will come when you regret not listening to us.”

Ti scrutinized her. A moment later, she dropped her hand, though she didn’t let go of her lightsaber. “Do not make me regret this,” she said tightly, then hit her comm. “Commanders, Prime Minister, I’ve apprehended the intruders. All forces, stand down.”

“Acknowledged, sir.”

“Thank you for giving us a chance, Master Ti,” Ahsoka said, bowing.

“If I find out you have lied to me, it is you who will feel regret. Come, now. You have two minutes before a patrol comes to retrieve you. Make haste. Give me the data.”

Echo handed her a data spike. She examined it, then tucked it into a fold of her robes. “You must have snuck in here somehow, so you may show yourselves out.”

Thus revealing their hidden passage, Ahsoka realized wryly. Well, it wasn’t like they were planning to ever need to come back here again. “Team Aurek,” she said into her comm. “What’s your status, trooper?”

“We’re on our way back to the lab,” Fives said. Understanding her wording, he said carefully, “The, uh, pilot is ready to go.”

“We’ll meet you there,” Ahsoka said. She pulled down the hatch door and ushered Echo into it. “You coming?” she asked Omega.

“Omega should stay with me,” Ti said.

“They need my help getting out,” Omega said. “Please, General.”

Ti sighed. “Be watchful,” she said.

When they returned to the underwater lab, it was to a shootout. Fives and Jesse were behind an overturned table, shooting stun bolts at the troopers surrounding a Kaminoan. AZI-3 was with them and squawking in horror. The troopers were returning fire, though Ahsoka was relieved to see they were using stun bolts as well.

Wielding their blasters, Echo and Ahsoka rushed into the fray. When Omega followed them, the two of them kept her blocked from the stun bolts with their bodies. They joined Fives and Jesse behind the makeshift cover.

“I see you have everything under control,” Echo said dryly.

“Remind me which team triggered the alarm again?” Jesse retorted.

Ahsoka snorted. “Point taken.”

“Nala Se!” Omega called over the sound of blaster fire. “Please don’t hurt them!”

“Omega,” Nala Se said placidly. “I am pleased to see you are all right. But these clones have trespassed into this facility. They are a danger to all of us.”

“No, they’re not! They’re my friends!”

“CT-5555,” Nala Se said. “If you do not surrender, I will be forced to take punitive action.”

“What, you going to try to wipe my memories and put me on sanitation duty again?” Fives snarled.

Ahsoka prickled. Not on her watch.

Teeth bared, she leaped back over the barrier and darted toward Nala Se, weaving between the blaster bolts.

When she was near enough, she reached out and grabbed Nala Se’s throat with the Force. She lifted her, leaving her long legs dangling above the white, sterile floors. Nala Se clutched at her long neck, making gurgling sounds as she tried to break free of the hold.

Blaster bolts rocketed toward Ahsoka. She let go of Nala Se with a growl and turned them away with a twist of her hand. The bolts shot through the ceiling, and the clone troopers cried out in shock.

Ahsoka unsheathed her vibrosword and held it to Nala Se’s throat before she could fully catch her breath.

“You’ve been working with them, haven’t you?” Ahsoka snarled. “You knew what really happened to Tup, and you tried to bury it. Fives told me everything.”

“CT-5555 has been compromised by a parasite,” Nala Se said in her placid way, and the way her gaze briefly flickered down to the blade was her only indication of concern. “As have the others, most likely. They cannot be trusted.” Her gaze was piercing, and her unfazed blinks slow and unnerving. “Perhaps you have been infected as well, Master Jedi.”

“Liar!” Ahsoka hissed, slamming her against the wall with the Force. The glittering thrill of power rushed through her veins. “How could you betray the Republic? What did they promise you? Credits? Grants? More seats in the Senate?”

“Ashla! Don’t!” Omega’s desperate voice called her out of her trancelike state.

Fives appeared at Ahsoka’s side. He put a hand on her shoulder and said under his breath, “Believe me, I of all people understand your anger. I’m angry, too. But we need her alive.” Around them, Ahsoka sensed a sudden ripple in the Force. “If you kill her, everything we fear will come to pass.”

Fives sounded so certain that Ahsoka had no choice but to believe him. She breathed out, expelling the darkness, and withdrew, letting Nala Se fall to the ground.

“Just one more thing,” Ahsoka said, glaring down at her. “If you warn them, we’ll know it was you. And believe me, you don’t want that.”

“Understood,” Nala Se said. Omega and AZI-3 rushed over to check on her.

Ahsoka rubbed her head. At least this time she had managed to hold herself back...somewhat. “Let’s get out of here.”

Omega and AZI-3 followed them to the entrance to the tube system that led out to the underwater landing pad where Rex waited.

“You’re not like the other clones, are you?” Omega asked the vod’e before they got into the waiting carriage. “You’re...different.”

“The same blood runs through all our veins,” Fives said. “But what distinguishes us are our experiences. Each experience, each path we take in life, makes us different. My experiences are what brought me here today. Your experiences are what make you who you are, too.”

Omega nodded thoughtfully, seeming to be processing his words.

“We couldn’t have done it without you, Omega,” Echo said, giving her a jaunty salute. “We owe you one.”

She brightened, imitating his salute with a wide grin.

Ahsoka crouched down and handed her a spare comm. “This is for you, so you can contact us if you ever need anything.”

Omega accepted it. “Thanks,” she said. Earnestly, she added, “And if there’s anything else I can do to help, let me know. They’re my brothers, too.”

“We will, kid,” Jesse promised.

“Thanks again for the assist, AZI,” Fives said. “We couldn’t have done it without you. You’re a good friend.”

AZI-3 twirled in excitement. “You are my friend as well, CT-5555.” AZI-3 said. Fives knuckled the side of his head. “Oh!”

“How many times do I have to remind you? It’s Fives, remember?” He sighed, smiling fondly. “Ah, forget it. You just take care of yourself, all right?” he said. “Don’t let Nala Se try to decommission you again. And watch over the kid, yeah?”

“I will do my best,” AZI-3 said. “Goodbye...Fives.”

Fives grinned and slapped the droid’s back. “There we go. Till next time, AZI.”

When they emerged from the underwater hangar, starfighters were quickly on top of them. But with Commander Tano’s expert flying, they managed to lose their pursuers, leave atmo, and jump to hyperspace.

As their ship hurtled toward Coruscant, they all breathed a sigh of relief. “We did it,” Jesse breathed. “Karking hells, we actually did it.”

“And we all have Fives to thank for that,” the Commander said, glancing over at the copilot seat with a smile.

Fives shook his head. “If you hadn’t believed me in the first place, Commander, none of this would have been possible.”

“Ahsoka,” she corrected. “We’ve come this far together, haven’t we?”

He grinned at her. “All right, have it your way—Ahsoka.”

When the course was set, Ahsoka engaged the autopilot and turned in her seat. “Fives, there’s something I need to ask you.”

“‘What is it?”

“I appreciate that you stopped me from losing control down there,” Ahsoka said, “but what did you mean when you said, ‘Everything we fear will come to pass’?”

Fives scrubbed a hand through his hair and looked grimly around the cockpit. “You’re all going to think I’ve lost my mind,” he said.

Ahsoka countered, “I think at this point, we’ve learned better than to dismiss anything as completely out of the question.”

Fives snorted. “Fair point. But to be honest... I don’t even know how to explain it. But I had a dream where Nala Se died, and then all the vod’e turned on the Jedi. Except it didn’t really feel like a dream. It felt...real.”

Frowning, Echo asked, “Was it one of those dreams that have been making you avoid going to sleep?”

Fives grimaced. “You noticed that, huh?” he answered weakly, and Echo gave him an exasperated look. “Yeah. It was.”

“What were the other dreams about?” Ahsoka asked.

“I saw Skako Minor—the towers crumbling as we flew away,” Fives said. “I dreamed of it when we visited that temple on Yeosan, before we even knew Echo was alive. And when we were in the vents inside the Techno Union headquarters, I knew exactly where to find Echo. As if I’d already done it before.”

Ahsoka looked stunned. “Fives,” she said slowly, “I think you’re having Force visions.”

Fives’s stomach dropped. “What?” he exclaimed. “What do you mean? I’m not a Jedi!”

“The Force resides in all living things,” Ahsoka explained. “Not everyone is able to access it as the Jedi do, but it might manifest itself in a pilot’s flying or a politician’s influence—or perhaps a soldier’s instinct.”

Jesse considered him. “You have always had a good sense, Fives. Even on Umbara...”

They all fell silent. They didn’t ever talk about Umbara.

“Jesse’s right,” Rex said eventually. “You knew the truth of things right away.” There was an undercurrent of shame in his words that made Fives wince in sympathy. No matter what those of them who had survived had said or done to try to convince him of their faith in him, Rex still blamed himself for everything that had happened during that nightmare of a mission. “You understood what Krell was, even if you didn’t have the words for it. You tried to get me to see it, but I couldn’t.”

“The Force might have also guided you to the discovery of the chips,” Ahsoka speculated.

Echo’s eyes were wide. “Maybe it helped you figure out I was still alive, too,” he said.

“And these visions,” Ahsoka said. “It sounds like precognition is strong with you. It is a rare gift, one that few adepts in our era can access.”

“Then—why me?” Fives wondered. “Shouldn’t the Force be guiding the Jedi instead of some clone? And out of all the vod’e, why me?”

“Maybe it’s already tried to reach the Jedi—maybe it can’t get them to trust in it,” Ahsoka guessed. She reached out to clasp his wrist. “There’s no telling why you have been chosen. What matters is that you have.”

Fives thought of his most recent dream and swore he could still hear the crackle of fire and smell the char of burning bodies. He thought too, of one of the other dreams he’d had at the Temple—of Commander Fox shooting him—and shuddered. “If these are visions of the future, like you’re suggesting... Does that mean they’re definitely going to happen?”

Ahsoka answered, “Master Yoda told me that the future is always in motion. Visions show you only one possible future. Sometimes, they may also show you the past—or something happening elsewhere in the present. The Order discourages acting on them because they’re not reliable sources of information.”

Fives relaxed incrementally. “And if anyone knows what they’re talking about, it’s General Yoda, right? Th-that’s a relief, then.”

Ahsoka leaned forward with interest. “What did you see?”

Fives swallowed hard. It felt like saying it aloud would make it all the more real. Echo gave his shoulder an encouraging squeeze.

“I saw the Jedi Temple on Coruscant burning,” Fives confessed, and the others gasped. “The place was overrun with vod’e who were all in a trance just like Tup’s. I think their chips had been activated. They were killing the Jedi. Padawans and younglings, too.” He exhaled, and rasped, “It felt so real. They wore 501st blue, and Flareup was there. We had a conversation, but he was...wrong. Emotionless. He used my designation instead of my name.”

He fell silent. He didn’t know how to tell them about Skywalker. The mere memory of those furious eyes made a chill run down Fives’s spine. That part definitely couldn’t be real, could it?

“So that’s what’s at stake,” Ahsoka murmured. “That’s what Dooku and Palpatine are planning. The complete extermination of the Jedi Order...”

“And they’ll use the vod’e to attain it,” Rex finished hoarsely.

Jesse brushed his fingers against the incision scar on the side of his head. “Not anymore, they won’t,” he said. “We have the data. We’re on our way to meet with the Jedi Council. If it’s only one possible future, then that means we still have the opportunity to stop it.”

“Jesse’s right,” Ahsoka said. “We have to believe that we’re still on the right track. If we lose faith, we won’t have any chance of ensuring that future won’t happen.”

“But what if it’s a warning?” Fives wondered. “What if it’s telling us that if we stay on this path, that’s where we’ll end up? What if it’s already too late?”

“You must trust in the Force,” Ahsoka replied. “If it guided you to survive Umbara, to discover the chips, and to find Echo, then it will continue to guide you. It is your ally.” She stood and gestured for Jesse to take the helm. “Come, Fives. Let’s try meditating together. I think it would do you some good.”

Fives acquiesced. He hadn’t been much good at meditation the few times Ahsoka had tried to teach it to him, but he supposed if the Force really was trying to reach out to him, he owed it another shot.

As they made their way to the pilot cabin where Ahsoka and Rex usually slept, she said quietly, “You left something out.”

Fives flinched. Of course she would sense the omission. “Maybe,” he admitted. The doors closed behind them.

“Tell me what you saw,” Ahsoka insisted.

Haltingly, he told her about the cloaked, yellow-eyed figure and how certain he had been that General Skywalker intended to kill the Padawans. How he had been covered in the ashes of the dying Jedi Order.

As Fives spoke, the air in the room seemed to grow tighter, colder. Ahsoka’s features crumpled in pure horror, and Fives felt horribly guilty for putting it there. Yet feeling the sensation of creeping darkness he remembered from the dream also made him uneasy.

“No!” Ahsoka exclaimed, her hands were clenched into fists at her side. “He would never!”

“I don’t want it to be true either,” Fives said lowly. “But if I was right about those other things... What if I’m right about this, too?”

Ahsoka shivered, hugging her arms to her chest. “Since I met him, I’ve known Anakin hasn’t always agreed with the Jedi Code or the Jedi Council’s decisions. But turning on the Order? Attacking the Temple? Executing Jedi? It doesn’t make any sense!”

“I don’t think so either,” Fives said, beginning to pace the room. “He’s a good general. He cares about us. On the battlefield, he’s always right beside us, leading us from the front. He always shoulders the greatest risks himself, and he’ll disobey orders from High Command if it means our casualties might be reduced. He never treats us like we’re less than sentient. Less deserving of life.” Memories of Umbara flashed before his eyes, and he grit his teeth, pushing them away. “General Skywalker is loyal, the same way the vod’e are loyal. He believes you were framed for the attacks on the Jedi Temple, and he’s stood by us, even now. He... He swore to help us get the truth out about the inhibitor chips! Why would he be leading clones with their chips activated?”

“I don’t know,” Ahsoka said grimly. “But we can’t let it happen. We must do everything we can to ensure that future never comes to pass. Whatever it takes.”

Fives nodded. Ahsoka unclenched her fists and reached out to grasp his elbow. “Come,” she said. “Sit with me.”

They settled themselves on the floor, sitting with their legs folded, across from each other. “Close your eyes,” Ahsoka said, and Fives obeyed. “Breathe with me.”

Fives did his best to slow his breaths and the racing of his heart, gradually matching the rhythm of her own. She reached out to clasp his hands, and the physical contact was grounding. They were here together, and they had already withstood so much together. As terrified as they might be about what lay before them, neither of them had ever been ones to give in to fear.

“Repeat after me,” Ahsoka murmured. “I am one with the Force, and the Force is with me.”

Closing his eyes, Fives inhaled. Exhaled.

“I am one with the Force,” he said, “and the Force is with me...”