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Chain of Command

Summary:

Krell yells at Rex and Coric talks it out with him afterwards

For AI-less Whumptober Day 25 - humiliation

Notes:

shoutout to Coric for being the only other medic with a name in the entire GAR

thanks to Klarion for the idea on this one

Work Text:

“Tell me, CT-7567, are all Clones this stupid, or are you particularly lacking in intelligence?”

Rex winced, swallowing his reply. Anything he tried to say to explain himself would just make Krell angrier, at least if the past few days were anything to go on.

“You really expect me to believe that you ordered your clones to take the fighters?” Krell continued, stretching up to his full height as he circled around Rex, “after they’ve refused to listen to you for the entirety of this mission?”

“Yes, Sir,” Rex said firmly, meeting Krell’s gaze head on. “I do.”

“Pah!” Krell said, waving a hand dismissively. “ I think you don’t want to admit you’ve lost control of your clones, Captain , because that would mean having to admit to yourself that you’re a failure.”

Rex sucked in a breath and let it out through his teeth, his hands balling into fists. “With all due respect, Sir , they are the reason we managed to take this base in the first place. Their plan has merit and could save a lot of lives.”

Pathetic ,” Krell said, raising his voice to draw the attention of everyone else in the hangar. “I’ve humoured your thoughtless excuses for long enough, CT-7567. If you cannot get your unit under control before we storm the capital, then I shall be forced to relieve you of command and replace you with a competent commanding officer.”

“Caring about the men I serve with is not a thoughtless excuse , Sir,” Rex growled. “Nor does it make me a poor tactician.”

Krell struck him across the face, hard enough that Rex saw stars. “A better tactician would know not to talk back to his General, CT-7567, and would know when he was dismissed without being told.”

Rex glared at him, wiping the blood from his split lip off on his gloves. “Yes, General .”

 

“Well,” Coric said drily, “that sucked.”

Rex gave him a flat look, pressing a cold pack against his face. “I assume you’re either here to tell me that I’m not doing enough to stand up to Krell, or that I need to shut up and listen to my General?”

Coric shook his head, pulling on a pair of gloves. “I was here to discuss medic assignments and who you wanted for your assault tomorrow, but now I think I’m here to check and make sure you don’t have a concussion.”

“Are any of your medics actually willing to work with me?” Rex asked, sighing. “I’m pretty sure Kix hates my guts now.”

“He’ll get over it,” Coric said, wincing sympathetically as he inspected Rex’s injuries. “No concussion, but you’ll have a nasty bruise.”
“I’m sure Krell will love that.”

“He does seem rather sadistic for a Jedi, doesn’t he?”

Rex sighed again, returning the cold pack to his face. “I never thought I’d miss Skywalker throwing me at things.”

“You know this isn’t on you, right?” Coric asked, peeling off his gloves with a snap. “You’re doing the best you can with a dumpster fire of a situation.”

“Do you think you could tell Krell that?” Rex asked, only half joking, “Or Fives?”

“Krell can go fuck himself,” Coric said flatly, “but your troops will come around, I’m sure.”

Rex looked up at the sky, wondering vaguely what was going on behind those impenetrable clouds. “I hope you’re right.”

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