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The barracks of the 501st on Coruscant are eerily silent. Greyer and emptier than Rex has ever seen them. He’d rather sleep on ass-freezing Orto Plutonia, surrounded by his vode, than here. But he can’t, because of all the bad things that could have happened, this is the worst: he’s on medical leave.
Honestly, it’s kriffing useless: it has been three days since his recovery from the Blue Shadow Virus, but Kix had been very unmovable with his verdict. And as only Commander Tano, Senator Amidala and himself had been seriously affected, everybody else was already back to action. The two women were also supposed to rest, but he’s ready to bet a hundred credits – no, two hundred – that the Senator is already back neck-deep into politics. She wouldn’t miss a Senate meeting for anything. Apart from a chance at snogging the General, maybe. As for the Padawan, he doesn’t know, if only that her second name is Trouble.
Anyway, no way Rex’s sleeping here. And he’s not going back to the med bay before someone decides he needs even more rest. He sighs. Maybe he can come up with something to do.
The barracks are on one of the lower levels of the Temple, near the main hangar and the armoury. Since he’s already there and unemployed, he could catch up with inventory. It’s night, so the lights are off. Good thing he always brings a torch with him. The armoury is even darker, but that won’t stop him. So he fishes out his datapad, opens the dedicated file, starts counting the rifles in one of the crates and– wait, someone already did it? Fives already did it??? Kriffing kark!
“Is there really nothing I can do?” Rex mutters to himself.
…
Well, there’s actually one thing he’s been dying to do, but he’s quite sure that’s against the regs. Well, not specifically, but no trooper would even consider the idea of exploring the Jedi Temple. He’s curious, though. But didn’t curiosity kill the loth-cat? Kriff, why is he even thinking about these things? Maybe the meds he took are stronger than expected. Made him stupid and careless.
But it’s too late for afterthoughts, because he’s already on his way through the Temple.
Little gods, security is scarce. But the decor is nice, for what he can tell. He must be in a residential area, a wall completely made of glass on one side and a series of simple doors on the other. The floor, scrubbed mirror-clean, is made of some fancy dark stone with blue and purple hues and… shiny dots everywhere. It looks like a nebula, the galaxy seen from a lone ship lost in space.
It must have cost a fortune. So much for being humble.
Rex walks further: over the corridor, there is some kind of common area, a round room with eight doorways. Trying to be as sneaky as possible (not easy, damned combat boots), he peeks past some of them: some sort of planetarium, a mess hall, a… meditation room? There are cushions on the floor and the walls are decorated by an intricate golden design and there is soothing music coming out of nowhere. Weird.
The last door leads to another corridor. Rex takes it and walks and walks, takes a few turns and then a ridiculously long set of stairs. He ends up on some kind of terrace which overlooks the city. The first thing he notices is that it’s windy. Dressed only in his greys, he’s almost cold. The second is that he’s very high up, vertigo and awe battling in his stomach as he leans on the balustrade. It’s like… It’s like he’s towering over an ants’ nest. A shiny, ultra-technological ants’ nest. Yeah, he isn’t good with metaphors. It’s not like they are taught–
“What are you doing here?”
The shrilling voice makes him jump (and maybe – most definitely not – squeak in a rather undignified way). He turns abruptly, a “The kriff?” escaping his lips, and finds Ahsoka standing in front of him, head cocked sideways.
“Commander,” he mutters, standing as tall as possible, “you shouldn’t try to sneak up on your own troops.”
Ahsoka raises a brow mark, crosses her arms. “First, I wasn’t sneaking. I was sitting right there.” She points to a spot near the wall, where the balustrade is large enough to sit on it.
“Second, a soldier with your experience shouldn’t let others sneak up on him.”
Rex scowls - because she definitely didn’t succeed in sneaking up on him - and opens his mouth to retort, but then sees the kid’s smirk. She takes that from General Skywalker, and by now he knows what it means. However much wrong she is, she will win the argument anyway. So he deems it wiser to change the subject as soon as possible.
“How are you doing, sir?” he asks casually.
Ahsoka grumbles. “Fine. Thanks. You?”
“I’m fine too.”
They stare at each other for a couple of seconds. It’s all it takes for the kid’s calm façade to crumble.
“Actually, no. I mean, of course I’m fine and so I should have gone to fight alongside my Master. Instead, I’m on medical leave. Can you believe it???”
“Same here. It’s, uh, rather…”
“... boring. It’s kriffing boring!”
Rex’s mouth hangs open. The kriff she just said? “Hey, aren’t you a bit too young to swear? Who the hell taught you?”
“You clones? Lots of you are always muttering kriff this and kark that. Especially Fives.”
Huh. It seems he has some scolding to do when the boys are back. Especially to Fives.
“And besides,” Ahsoka continues, flailing her scrawny arms in the air, “technically, you are younger than me. I’m fourteen. While you are, like, ten?”
“The word technically doesn’t apply to our situation, sir.”
She laughs at that, turns her back to him and goes sitting on her spot on the balustrade. She clearly doesn’t suffer from vertigo. Rex takes it as a sign that it’s time to leave.
“I didn’t want to intrude, sir. I’ll be gone now.”
“Banthashit. You can stay here. No one ever comes. That’s lots of stairs even for a Jedi.” Then she pats her hand on the spot beside her, but like hell he’s gonna sit on that kriffing thing. He winds up leaning against the balustrade on her right. Her eyes are huge in the feeble light of the night, she looks even younger than she does on the battlefield. He feels honoured and horrified at the same time to have her fighting on his side, but knows better than voicing such thoughts. She would think he doesn't trust her to have his back. He does. It’s just… it’s not right (war ever is?).
“Actually,” she whispers after some time, “I’m… glad I get to stay behind for a little while. That virus… I’ve never come so close to dying.”
As she says that, Ahsoka makes herself small, hugging her legs close to her chest, her chin resting on her knees. He’s never seen her so vulnerable, that’s why he chooses his next words carefully.
“Maybe it wasn't the first time I thought that was the end of me, but… I’ve never felt so helpless. My skills were worth nothing against that virus. And that was… tough.”
The kid nods and scuttles closer to him, her thigh resting on his bicep. He wonders if he should resist the urge to pat her head between her montrals. She’s his Commander, for kriff’s sake!
“Anyways, you know you can call me Ahsoka, right?”
Rex doesn't meet her eyes, not yet. “I’m not sure it’s allowed, sir. Uhm. You know, the regs...”
“Kark the regs,” she snaps. Then her voice sweetens. “I know that hierarchy is important in war times, but when away from the battlefield I just would like to be friends.”
“A Jedi and a clone being friends?” He never thought about it. Sure, he respects the Generals and the Generals (at least Kenobi and Skywalker) respect him and his vode. That is like it’s supposed to be.
“Not a Jedi and a clone. Just two people. And all your brothers too. Especially Fives, though.”
He snorts. “That actually worries me.”
The kid chuckles, then turns serious again. “I mean it, Rex.”
She says his name so eagerly that he has to look at her now. She’s smiling faintly, her big eyes full of… full of something welcoming and warm. He finds himself smiling too.
“Alright, Ahsoka.” That makes her smile wider. And kark it, he decides it’s okay to pat her head. In return, she lightly punches his arm.
And in that moment, something eases in Rex’s heart. Because he never really allowed himself to feel hope. Until today.