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Of course, it's raining buckets when they touch down on Kamino. The wind drives white sheets of the stuff almost horizontally through the air, and Rex has to duck his head and brace himself against it so he won’t slip as he climbs out of the shuttle that got him here.
The troopers flanking him are faring only a little better. One of them almost loses their footing as they hurry down the ramp after Rex, and the visors of both are dripping wet in a matter of milliseconds, probably severely impairing their field of vision. Still, they’re back at his side the instant his feet touch the gently swaying landing platform, marching so close their shoulders almost brush Rex’s.
And of course, they’re both wearing their plastoid armour. Rex doesn’t have that luxury. He’s drenched to the bone the moment he steps out of the shuttle’s shelter, the pelting rain soaking into his blacks and smallclothes faster than goosebumps can spring up on his skin. Rivulets of icy water run down his temples and cling to his lashes, stinging his eyes. For a moment, he stops and blinks to clear his vision, disoriented.
It’s one moment too long. One of his guards grabs onto his elbow and hauls him forward, and the other follows suit. Together, they drag him away from the shuttle and onto the narrow walkway connecting the landing platform to one of Tipoca City’s domed floating buildings. Rex can only stumble along, extending his shackled hands in front of himself in case the troopers suddenly decide to let go and he has to catch himself from faceplanting right here and now.
At their backs, the shuttle’s engine fires up with a hum and the sound of water evaporating as it’s met with great, sudden heat. The walkway shudders for a few seconds as the craft takes off, then it stills.
Gone. Rex’s last connection to the world beyond Kamino - it just vanished in the rain and the clouds of his home.
He resists the urge to crane his neck and look over his shoulder, to catch maybe just one last glimpse, one last shadow. Doing so would only invite terror and despair too early. They’ll come for him soon enough, but for the time it takes him and his guards to cross the walkway to the sliding door, he can pretend that things can still start to look up again suddenly. Somehow.
The crossing seems to take forever. At least he’s wedged into the slipstream between the two troopers now, which spares him the worst of the lashing rain. He’s starting to feel cold, though. In his boots, his toes squelch every time he takes a step - they feel like they’ve filled up to the brim with water. When he looks down, he sees his hands are white-knuckled from clenching his fists inside his binders.
He’d do it all over again, though. Even if given a chance to change what happened, he wouldn’t take it. He can still hear Krell’s voice at the back of his head, then the sound of the air getting punched out of him as he crumples, a hole burned through his back. Sees Dogma standing there, wide-eyed as he stares at the traitor General’s body, the pistol he grabbed from Fives slipping from his hands.
Rex still remembers the weight of his own blaster in his palm, the weapon warm from the shot he fired, and hears himself saying, “You didn’t do it, Dogma. I did. And I’ll face the consequences.”
They’re coming up on the entrance door now. Rex watches it slide open, looks at the cold glow of Kamino reflected in the sea of rainwater on the walkway instead of meeting the waiting longneck’s gaze.
Yes, he’d do it all over again. He just never thought that the consequences for doing the right thing would weigh so dire. He’s sure that had he let Dogma go ahead, his brother would not have received such a heavy sentence.
Then again, Dogma wasn’t born wrong in so many ways.
His guards bring him to a halt just short of stepping over the sill into the dry hallway beyond the door. When he looks up at last, he’s met with the dark nebula eyes of a Kaminoan medic - his handler for now.
“CT-7567,” they say, in that singsong voice he remembers echoing faintly through the bright hallways when he was still a tubie. “Thank you for returning peacefully to Kamino. As you already know, you were marked for decommissioning after exhibiting one defect too many. Now, let us not wait for long - follow me, please.”
With that sinuous grace so typical of their kind, they motion for him to step inside, courteously drawing back to clear the way for him. Rex can’t stand it anymore, the way they act so nice about killing him - he lowers his eyes, doesn’t move an inch, and waits for his guards to do the moving for him.
Instead, all four of them look up as the whine of a ship’s engine grows clearer and clearer among the rush of the rain.
“That doesn’t sound like a shuttle,” the trooper holding onto Rex’s left arm says. Then, they let go to turn into the direction of the sound, with the one at Rex’s right side doing the same.
Rex hesitates for a fraction of a second before joining them. He squints through the dense wall of rain at the even denser wall of grey clouds above. Nothing out of the extraordinary - until a sleek, speedy craft breaks through the mist and swoops down, heading right for them.
“A Jedi starfighter!” one of the guards exclaims.
Rex blinks, and for a few moments, the driving rain and the biting cold and the longneck at his back are forgotten.
“Most unusual,” the Kaminoan medic ventures after a brief bout of silence. “We were not expecting any visitors today.”
A sheet of vaporised water is thrown up as the fighter lands on the same platform from which Rex’s shuttle took off only minutes ago. The whine of the engine cuts off immediately, and the transparent yet rain-streaked canopy starts to open, revealing-
“Take CT-7567 inside,” the Kaminoan murmurs. “I will attend to our unscheduled visitor, then join you in time. Have the droid prepare him for termination.”
For the first time since they stripped him of his armour, put the cuffs on him and marched him off into the shuttle, Rex struggles, gasps, pleads, “No!”
It’s no use. He’s grabbed by the shoulders and waist and hauled around to face the blindingly bright hallway, and then there’s a hand at the nape of his neck, pushing him inside-
“Stop!”
The command, spoken in that familiar voice, has its usual effect. The guards freeze, long enough for Rex to shrug off their grasp so he can turn and look at the imposing figure striding down the walkway.
General Skywalker is almost running, his cloak billowing out behind him despite the fact that the rainwater must be soaking into it right now, turning it heavy. With his hood down, his handsome face is bare for all to see.
So is his expression.
Rex doesn’t think he ever saw his General this furious. Maybe a few times during ground campaigns, standing over the slaughtered bodies of a village, or freeing prisoners Separatists had taken for slave labour - but Rex isn’t sure anymore.
He can’t fault his two guards for shrinking back into the relative safety of the Kaminoan hallway as General Skywalker approaches. He’s almost afraid, too - but he stays where he is, facing his General, the only one out in the rain now.
“What is this?” the General booms, closing in, and then he’s there, laying a hand on Rex’s shoulder and pulling him in to stand by his side. “What are you doing with my Captain? Why is he a prisoner? I was never notified of this.”
The General’s hand is warm, almost searing, even through the soaked layer of Rex’s blacks. He’s warm at Rex’s side, too, the heat radiating off him an almost tangible thing.
For just a moment, Rex closes his eyes and breathes, bathing in the sunlight of the brightly burning star that is Anakin Skywalker.
When he looks back up, the Kaminoan medic is blinking at Skywalker. They open their mouth and begin, “CT-7567 -”
“He has a name!" the General roars, and Rex flinches. So do the two guards. Even the Kaminoan’s head sways backwards on its long stalk.
“The clone unit,” they continue hesitantly, “exhibited defects in the past, but they were not grave enough to qualify it for decommissioning or reconditioning. However, it was recalled after an incident in which a Jedi was killed – a line of action which you, being a Jedi yourself, should endorse.”
For a few breaths, the General doesn’t say anything. He just stands there with his arms around Rex’s shoulders, a firm, warm line of weight. Rex can feel his heartbeat in his throat. I was never notified of this. What if Skywalker didn’t hear the news from the 501st? Didn’t read the reports about why Rex had to take out Krell? What if he’ll change his mind, tell the Kaminoan to go ahead, and leave Rex here-
“My Captain- Captain Rex was entirely justified in his line of action,”Anakin hisses at last. “Pong Krell was a traitor, and a danger to the Republic and the clones. He got what was coming for him. My Captain did the right thing.”
Rex’s legs feel like they are going to give out under him. He locks his knees, straightens his back, and looks straight at the Kaminoan. Breathe. Just breathe. Show no fear.
“Nonetheless, you must understand-” the Kaminoan tries again, only for Anakin to cut them off promptly.
“The only thing I understand,” he murmurs, voice low in a way that suggests nothing good, “is that I will be taking my Captain back with me right now. And I will alert the Jedi High Council and advise them to look into that practice of decommissioning troopers that you cloners seem to have developed. Come on, Rex. We’re leaving.”
This time, being manhandled to walk along the connecting bridge to the landing platform feels much less dire. Rex gladly leans into his General’s side as they march back to the starfighter, and he accepts the arm sliding down from his shoulders to grip him around the waist. The rain is dropping off, hardly more than a trickle from the cloud-laden sky now. It makes it easier to hear the longneck medic calling after them, “You are abducting Kaminoan property, Master Jedi. I will have to alert your superiors and my government of this fact.”
Their voice trails off into inaudibility after that. It’s one sound from home Rex isn’t loath to leave behind.
“You hear that, Rex?” Anakin grins over at him as they walk. “You’re being kidnapped.”
“Sure feels like it, sir,” Rex mutters back. His spine is starting to feel like jelly, and despite his General’s warmth right by his side, he’s still soaked to the bone and wet in places where he’d rather not be wet. It’s getting hard to keep his head up.
“Hey. Just a little farther, then we’re there.” Skywalker’s hold around his waist tightens, and then there’s a hand on his wrists, sliding over the binders keeping him bound. A heartbeat passes. Then, Anakin mutters, "I'm going to take these off now."
Rex doesn't object - and why should he? He keeps walking, and his General closes his eyes and furrows his brow, and just like that, the binders click open. Skywalker takes them and sends them flying over the edge of the walkway to disappear amidst the churning waves below.
Rex isn’t going to die here. Not today – maybe not ever.
At first, Rex doesn't understand why the rain is suddenly hot on his cheeks, why the landing platform and the starfighter parked on it are blurring in his vision. Then, the General gives a small, startled noise and stops them just short of the craft's two-seated cockpit.
"Rex," he murmurs, "hey, look at me."
Rex obeys. Anakin smiles, and in doing so cups Rex's cheeks and wipes the rain and the tears Rex didn’t even know he’s crying away with his thumbs.
"You didn't think I would leave you here, did you?" his General asks.
Rex can't talk. His throat feels hot and clogged, and anyway, his General isn't really his. He's a Jedi, and he has a handsome wife on Coruscant, and had Rex not been assigned as his Captain to work closely with him, Anakin would probably never have spared him a second glance.
Rex looks down and away, dislodging his General's hold on his face as he does so.
"Rex." There's the least bit of hurt in Anakin's voice as he slips a finger under Rex's chin and tilts it back up. His eyes are so very blue and so very wide, more earnest than the Kaminoan rain. "Rex. I need you to know that you are very important to me."
Alright. This, Rex can do. This, Rex can give him.
The tears are still coming - quiet, unassuming things except in the way they trickle down Rex's cheeks and drip off his chin - but Rex's voice is back at last. He uses it to say, "Yes, sir. I know. I understand."
Anakin shakes his head, but at least he's smiling again. "No, Rex. I don't think you do."
And then Rex's knees are buckling at last because his General is leaning forward and even more into his space than he already is, brushing his lips against Rex's. Again, and again even as he grabs onto Rex's shoulder and waist to keep him upright. The brush turns into a kiss that makes Rex's eyes fall closed, makes their cheeks brush together and Rex's tears smear onto Anakin's face.
Rex's hands find his General's shoulder, and he just holds on. It's far gentler than he'd imagined, even while half asleep and daydreaming. It's amazing, too, makes his head spin. Finally, Rex understands why other vode won't stop going on about hooking up with natborns at 79's or will keep sneaking off together when off-duty.
He leans up, catches Anakin's bottom lip between his teeth for just the blink of an eye, and delights in the gasp it earns him.
By the time they part, the rain and the tears have ceased completely. A bank of mist is rolling in from across the still sea, and Anakin makes a point of herding Rex into the starfighter's cockpit while visibility is still high enough to take off with minimal risk.
"I should have one of Obi-Wan's spare cloaks lying around here somewhere," he mutters as he roots around the small storage compartment behind Rex's seat. When he comes up with the sought object, he wastes no time bundling Rex up in it – tightly, like he’s afraid Rex will fall apart otherwise - before strapping him down with the safety netting.
They take off. By the time they lift out of Kamino's gravity well and set a hyperspace course, Rex's toes have started to regain the feeling in them.
"We're going to Coruscant first," Rex's General explains from the pilot's seat. "I know a Senator there who won't mind us staying at her place for a few days while you recover. She'll probably also help you put together a case against the Kaminoans, if you want - she's great at that kinda stuff. And I'll talk to the Council."
"Sounds great, sir." Rex's temple probably leaves a smear on the cockpit's plasteel canopy as he leans his head against it, but he can't get himself to mind. Below them, Kamino is a grey-blue marble floating in the dead black of space. So small - yet mere minutes ago, he'd been thinking that it was going to be the place where he'd put to death.
A hand reaching back to rest on his knee startles him, but it's just his General. Anakin.
"It's over now, Rex."
Rex nods. He looks away from Kamino before the white-blue swirls of hyperspace envelop them. No last glances. He's had enough of them for one day.
All that remains is to look forward - to his General, to Coruscant, and to the rest of his life.