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Ahsoka's greatest strength was her determination. Whether it be an active minefield, a Seppie blockade, or even General Grievous himself, Rex's vod'ika refused to back down. It was one of the reasons she worked so well with the 501st; they were all determined idiots with a point to prove. They didn't always know what the point was, but damn it if they weren't going to prove it anyway.
General Skywalker called it recklessness, but Rex could live with reckless. The downside of her determination was the sheer stubbornness that by definition came with it.
"At least try it on," Rex entreated, arms crossed.
"Absolutely not." Ahsoka didn't even look up from her datapad. She'd snuggled herself into the rec room couch two hours ago to work on some classwork or another.
Rex didn't understand how an order of beings that were supposed to be infinitely compassionate could assign his commanding officer coursework in an active war zone, but it wasn't as if any of the monks in charge were interested in his opinion anymore than the little stinker in front of him was.
"Seriously, Rex, how do you expect me to do a backflip in a codpiece?" She rolled her eyes so hard that he half expected one to fall out.
"It doesn't have a codpiece, littl'un, you'll barely even notice it's there," Rex said, eyebrows furrowed and hands atop his hips. "Please?"
"Don't beg, it's unbecoming."
"Oh, you haven't seen unbecoming yet."
Ahsoka snickered. "Are you gonna cry?"
"Maybe," Rex deadpanned. "I worked hard on your cuirass, you know. Spent hours on it."
Ahsoka's left lek twitched. "Are you really trying to guilt-trip me into wearing armor?"
He placed a hand on his chest in mock offense. "Me, Commander? You'd think I'd do that?" He bit his lip to keep from laughing.
"Obviously." Her lek twitched again.
He almost had her, he knew it. He sighed theatrically and looked down at the ground. "Okay, Commander. Nevermind. I'll get rid of it." He let his shoulders fall a little.
Her head swiveled like a mithoo to frown at him. "Now wait just a second!"
And just like that, he had her. Rex shrugged and projected a morose attitude as best he could towards the little Empath. "I was sure you were going to like it, but I guess not. I'm sorry, it was a stupid idea, I shouldn't have done it."
"Rex, nooo," Ahsoka groaned. She closed her eyes and let her head fall backward. "Fine, I'll look at it. But you know I can't wear anything that's going to weigh me down."
"It won't, I promise." Rex wondered for a moment if the Kaminiise had ever anticipated him using the advanced interrogation techniques they'd flashed him with on a fourteen-year-old jeti'ika who refused to wear armor even after being shot twice. He slipped his forearms under her armpits and hauled her up to her feet, grumbling and still in a ball. "Come on. I'll even help you paint it."
Ahsoka rolled her eyes but trudged after him out of the rec room and to his office, stomping like the petulant teenager that he forgot his CO was sometimes. He keyed the code to his door and gave her his biggest smile. "You first, Commander," he said sweetly.
She flounced inside like she'd just been given fresher duty.
He picked up the cuirass from his desk—and he hadn't lied, he had spent hours on it, carefully carving and shaping it down to fit a beanpole half his size—and presented it to her. "Now, your head is, ah," he paused and looked at the glowering Togruta with crossed arms. "Not quite regulation size, so instead of going over your head like ours, it just kind of…" he gently pushed her arms down then snapped the chest plate and back piece together below her chin. The magnets inside the shoulders made it so that the two seamlessly joined as if it was a standard cuirass. "There," he smiled. "See? It’s just like what the General wears. Barely even weighs anything."
She pouted, but didn't disagree. He counted that as a success.
"And look." He held up a pair of gauntlets. "Guess what's in these?"
"Big knife?" she asked flatly.
He grinned and slipped out a vibroknife from the right-hand gauntlet. "Big knife."
Ahsoka gasped and tried to snatch it. "No way! I was kidding!"
He laughed out loud this time at her reaction. He held it out of reach, sheathed it back into the gauntlet and handed the pair of them to her. "I don't want to see you using it without practicing with me first, got it?"
She scoffed as she slipped her hands into them. "Rex, you do remember I have a lightsaber, right? I know how to use a blade."
"Trust me, littl'un, this is a whole different skill set. For this, you have to get up in your opponent's face. It's for emergencies or when you drop your lightsaber only, alright?"
"Fine." She paused and glanced up at him. "Does my Master know?"
"Not yet, but" —he shrugged— "like you said, you've got a lightsaber so I can't imagine he'll have a problem with it."
She smiled a sneaky little smile and punched her fists together. "Could you put in knuckle blades like the ARCs have?"
It was Rex's turn to roll his eyes. "That I think the General would have a problem with."
Ahsoka pursed her lips, then looked up at him. "I guess it's not that heavy," she admitted, then smiled. "Thanks, Rexter."
His chest felt warm and fuzzy below the skin. "Come on," he said roughly and clapped his little sister on the shoulder. "Let's go to the hangar. I'll take some easy shots at you for a bit and you can complain the whole time about how much I've limited your mobility."
She snickered. "I'm supposed to be studying, you know."
"This is studying." He locked the door behind them, mindful of the confiscated liquor in his desk drawer that Jesse kept finding ways to steal back. "Just a different topic."
"And then we can study knifework?" she asked sweetly, blinking at him.
"Of course, vod'ika." He smiled indulgently at her, allowing her to believe she was playing him. "Whatever you want."
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