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‘Let’s take the Y wing.’ It had been his idea at the time.
He didn’t know what had come over him then. But as the Republic’s victory was heralded through their ranks, his inhibitions abandoned him, and all he knew was that he wanted to be alone with her. Beneath it all, his brazen ask was unheard by the throng of the Galaxy. No one would miss a rogue clone and his Commander in the fray. And no one did.
With a few supplies and all the credits from his Captain's treasury - soon to be Commander's treasury - he had flown her away from the Core Worlds, his celebrating brothers, the Senate, and the birthing cries of the New Republic.
It had been less than two cycles since the Separatists had yielded to the Republic, and somewhere in his consciousness, so did he to every unspoken desire he had had for Ahsoka Tano.
They’d been gone a standard week by Coruscanti time, but to Rex it had passed like a blissful, timeless eternity, fettered into the briefest of moments. It was both so much and too little all at once. Looking back… his head swam as he relived the memories.
He’d held her, loved her, and kissed her in the open as though his face wasn’t the most recognizable in the Galaxy. He had taken her, secreted away into tangled bedsheets under strange moons, again and again till they were spent and hungover with pleasure.
The fever pitch of war ending had the entire Galaxy intoxicated in one way or another. His brothers, he was sure, were in the Core Worlds getting inebriated on every substance acquirable, and in his own way, so was he; albeit his drug of choice was Ahsoka Tano. And for the first time in his short life, he allowed himself to give completely in to the vice that was his Commander.
Celebrations and restructuring exercises would be on for weeks as the Senate filled the gap left by Sidious. And he could think of no better way to start it all than with a moment of madness with the woman he loved, unnoticed beneath the uproar of the Galaxy.
He couldn’t remember being as sure about something, or rather someone, in the way that he was with her. But as their vessel’s landing gears descended back onto Coruscanti durasteel, their re-entry into Republic society jolted him awake from their dream.
For all the love they’d made and shared, he couldn’t quite tell where it all belonged now. Back to the military? Tucked neatly behind role and rank?
He’d come down from that landing platform like one would from a spice high, back to the sobering reality of a life that drew thick, forbidden lines between them. Where, he wondered, did their love fit now?
Hours into that first night’s cycle, he found himself lying awake in his quarters, thinking of their lives together, alone and afraid of the fate of his newfound happiness. He’d tossed ceaselessly in his bunk since she’d gone, which hadn’t been long after midnight.
General Skywalker had summoned her quite suddenly, to neither of their surprise. Everything, everywhere, was unavoidably in a state of upheaval: the GAR, the Order, the Senate, everything. Of the thousand things she could have been called away for, he couldn’t find the will to warrant a guess of what it might have been.
In any event, whatever it was hadn’t required a clone escort, so she’d left him here. And being far too wired to get any sleep, he decided it was best to find a way to take his mind off things. Kitting up quickly, he stepped off-compound and into the Corrie nightlights.
The streets were crowded with nat-borns and clones alike, electrified with the excitement of the new regime. Aimlessly, he found himself hailing a cab to the central clone bar.
On arrival, he pressed through the throng of inebriated patrons, making his way to the staircase behind the bar. It was a mess in here tonight. His brothers were in all states of misconduct and intoxication, as women of all species, shapes, and sizes hung from their arms like battle laurels. The scent of smoke and alcohol was thick to an almost suffocating degree.
Climbing to the top of the staircase, a whiff of fresh air mercifully hit him as the doors slid open to the rooftop lounge. The lounge’s exclusive Skirts & Pauldrons protocol naturally applied to him, and so the security droid let him by on sight, effectively shutting out the noise of the dance floor below.
The rooftop was purely ‘Clone Commanders’ space - it boasted a single bartender, no patrons, no party girls. Just the GAR elite, sipping and smoking in their booths, as the city’s lights flickered and danced around them. Up here, the buckets came off, and joints went upward listlessly into the night sky, accented by the muted tremors of the bass beneath the floor below.
Rex had been here scores of times during the war; his skirts always gained him entry despite his captaincy. Scanning the terrace briefly, he strode towards the bar; it seemed scanty tonight. Most Commanders, not unlike Ahsoka, would have been called to their General’s aid - the Galaxy, after all, wasn't going to reshape itself.
He seated himself on a stool and waited for the bar-droid’s approach. “What will you be having tonight, sir?”
“One Correlian cigar, a Pantorian whiskey, two shots of tihaar.”
“Coming right up.” The droid droned as it rolled away.
The steady beat from the party below seemed to reverberate beneath his soles in a timely rhythm, almost lulling him into a bit of a trance. He found his mind wandering to memories of Ahsoka, how his tongue had traced droplets off her skin as he made love in the rainforests of Kashyyyk…
“Never took you for a smoker.” A voice interrupted his thoughts. Rex turned to see the golden stain of matching cheek tattoos shimmer in the low light as Commander Bly pulled up a stool beside him.
“What?”
“The cigar you ordered…you’re legendary for your tihaar, but never knew you liked cigars too.”
His eyes followed Bly’s gaze; the bar droid had set his order down in front of him, but he hadn't even noticed.
Rex shrugged. “Me either. But this isn’t the same Galaxy it was a week ago.”
“Got that right.” Bly placed his order, and for a while the two drank in silence. Or as silently as one could on the rooftop of a packed nightclub.
Moments passed between them before Bly spoke up. “You don't think that's a bit much?” Bly nodded towards his tray and glasses.
Rex threw his head back, downing both of his shots in quick succession before nursing his glass of whiskey. “Why? Is there something better I could be doing right now?” He nodded to the side. “Bartender, two more.”
“I heard the 501st had a reputation for drinking till they can’t piss straight, but you’ve been a straight walker since we’ve known each other.” Bly chuckles. “Mostly, at least.”
Rex shrugged as the bar-droid set down with new glasses. “Glad to know my rep is still intact.”
He raised his whiskey for a sip, hoping to drown Bly’s voice along with all his other thoughts. Mercifully, moments passed before more words passed between them, but sadly, it was short-lived.
“There’s drinking to party, and there’s drinking to forget,” Bly mentioned, sipping his ale. “But the real question is, why would anyone wanna forget the best week in the Galaxy?”
Rex stared at his glass, doing his best not to ask who had died and made Bly the resident investigator of clone drinking habits.
“Girl trouble?” Bly pushed.
Rex scoffed. “What gave me away?”
“We’ve got the same face vod. Let’s just say I know that look.”
“Yeah, well, maybe we’re not all as identical as you think,” Rex answered.
“Nah, I’ll say clones pretty much have the same look when we’re hung up on a woman.”
Rex rolled his eyes. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Bly shrugged before taking a sip. “Famous last words.”
At that, Rex chuckled darkly; the mix of exhaustion, tihaar and whiskey must’ve finally started softening his edges. “Listen, Bly, if you really wanna help me, then tell me how you do it.” The words left his mouth before he could decide if it was a good idea to go down this path or not.
“Do what?” Bly asked, taking another sip.
“Watch the back of the best woman you ever met, while serving your men?”
This time, the Commander’s glass froze halfway to his lips before he straightened defensively. His voice lowered venomously. “I’d watch my mouth if I were you, Rex.”
“Relax, I’m not looking for a fight. But since you’ve got all the answers to my problems, how about this one?”
Bly’s jaw tightened, and his form tensed. “Last warning, Rex, choose your next words very carefully.”
“I just want to know…”
He missed the sound of Bly’s glass slamming against the counter before he found himself in a brutal headlock, chin tightly pinned against the Commander’s vambrace.
“Bly…” He gasped for breath but otherwise gave no resistance. “We all know it.”
It was an understatement if there ever was one. Every Commander south of Teth Quad barracks knew. The intimate holo-clip between him and Secura had swiftly flown through the Command ranks. In brotherly unity, they'd kept it from spreading down rank, or worse, to the Jedi, and had destroyed the evidence entirely. But every senior knew…
“And just what is there to know?” Bly gritted unmovingly, Rex’s head still pinned to his chest in an iron-grip.
“I know you’re involved with General Secura. I just need-” was all he could manage to get out before he was violently flung from his seat. He had barely recovered his footing before a fist mirroring his own cracked against his jaw.
It was a fuck of a hit, but not in the least unexpected. Bly was uncompromisingly sensitive about all things Aayla Secura. In fairness, Rex had gotten off nicely.
He stumbled and spat in annoyance. A few brothers had turned to look, but just as quickly averted their gaze. A scuffle among clones was nothing to write to the barracks about. They were bred for violence, making it one of the fastest ways to settle any grievance.
“You watch your mouth, trooper.” He heard Bly growl. “You will speak of her with respect.”
Rex exhaled slowly, rubbing his jaw. “Bly listen to me. I know you love her. I know you’d die for her. Believe me, I’m not here for the details.”
“I have no idea what you’re going on about. But I’m not warning you again.” Bly growled.
The alcohol in Rex’s system was doing little to help him right now. He groaned miserably, gathering his bearings. He was not in the mood for another hit, which Bly seemed more than willing to hand to him.
“I’m not coming to you as an officer, Bly.” He tried again. “I’m coming to you as a brother…”
“Only thing you’ll be coming to me as after this is a pile of broken bones if I hear her name in your mouth again.” Bly pointed threateningly.
“Use your head vod. We’ve known for years, and no one’s confronted you before. Why would I come to you about this now?”
“I don’t have time for your mind games. So whatever this is about, if you heard anything that could harm her, now’s the time to get it out.”
“I just… I just need to talk to someone who understands.” Rex sighed.
“Understands what?” Bly demanded.
“Being involved with their General.”
Bly froze, and Rex could see the wheels of shocked confusion turning in his mind. “Wait a minute? You and Skywalker…?”
“No.” Rex rolled his eyes. “My new General…well, General-to-be.”
Bly scoffed, returning to his seat. “Tano? Like that’s more believable. Her Master’s the craziest Jedi in the Galaxy. You’ve gotta be bantha-shit crazy to even dream of being with her. She’d have to be crazy, too. You’ve lost your mind vod.”
Rex stood stock still, shoulders slumped, overwhelmed with emotion, and nursing a nasty bruise. His lack of response must have spurred something within Bly, or maybe the look of wretched defeat in his features was something he was all too familiar with.
Whatever it was, it convinced Bly to consider he’d been told the truth. His tattoos raised upwards slightly as he sucked in a breath. “Fuck…you’re serious, aren’t you?”
Wiping his lip, Rex stared at his feet as he returned to the seat beside him.
“Rex..is she making you do this?” Bly asked.
“What do you mean?”
“Without consent…is she forcing you into something?”
Rex looked at him incredulously. “What? No! How could you…? It’s consensual. I…I want her too.”
“Okay… I just needed to make sure. Not every Jedi’s a good Jedi.” Bly trailed off. “There’ve been stories…”
“What sort of stories?”
Bly shook his head. “Never mind that. You’ve got bigger problems. For starters, you've got it bad for her if you came all the way up here to drown in whiskey and ask me osik.”
Rex paused. Fighting the tihaar in his system and the pounding pain of Bly’s punch, he willed himself to focus, making a mental note to look into those brothers after this discussion.
“Well, first of all, I didn’t come here to ask you anything. You’re the one who kept insisting on girl talk.”
“Fair, but you did come here to drown, which is saying something.”
Rex took a deep breath. “…I didn't mean for this to happen. I didn’t in a thousand years think it could happen. I love her…but I’m out of my depth here, ’m spiraling, vod.”
“Just so we’re clear. I’m not admitting to anything.” Bly hesitated. “But I never did have the heart to abandon vodika who needed me.”
Rex shrugged. “That’s good enough for me.”
“Do you feel like you made a mistake?”
“Of course not. She's everything I never knew I needed. It’s just…nothing could’ve prepared me is all. I have no idea what I’m doing.”
“It’s not something we were intended to do,” Bly explained. “Long necks must’ve forgotten to code it out in the making. But it happens. Somehow, love happens to clones.
But the life we lead doesn’t make it easy. So if this is just some fling, Rex, I’d advise you to end things now.”
“What part of she's ‘everything I never knew I needed’ don't you understand?” Rex spat.
Bly released a sigh, and his hand came up to squeeze Rex's shoulder. “Some days, you might really wish she wasn’t.
You’ll want to shield her instead of holding rank, lay with her instead of deploying. You’ll hate the Council for the suicide missions they send her on. And you’ll have the impulse to fire on any man who looks at her the wrong way.”
“Well,” Rex sighed. “That’s been my life for a while now, so if that’s all there is…”
“The men talk about me, you know,” Bly interjected. “They think I’m some kind of legend. They smirk at me like this is some kind of badge. You’ll have to deal with them, too - thinking the woman you love is some sort of prize you were lucky enough to bag.”
Rex straightened, remembering when he first found out about Bly and Secura, how he’d processed it, and what the men’s banter had been like. He’d been more surprised than anything else at the time.
Before them, he hadn’t imagined a Jedi could love a clone. The concept of love was lost on him then; he was just happy that one of his brothers had found favor with one of them - the revered Jedi.
That had been so long ago, his ideologies of the Order had completely altered since then. Never in his short life had he imagined he could one day be subject to the same reaction. He never imagined a Jedi could love him, too, and nothing could prepare him for how much he loved her back.
“The Clone Wars may have ended.” Bly continued. “But there’s a whole new war inside you now. You’ll have to choose between serving the Republic, like you were made to, or fighting for a life with her. And no matter what you choose, you’ll feel guilty every time.”
“There's no easy way to love a Jedi. Is there?” Rex asked.
“No. But there’s nothing that’ll fulfil you more. You’re a good soldier, Rex. My advice cut yourself some slack. And allow yourself to enjoy being a man who loves a woman. It’s a privilege so few of us get.”
“This is way past breaking regs, Bly. There’s so much that can go wrong. Too much. If I kriff this up, get decommissioned, it’ll break her-”
“You can’t think like that. That’s rule number one. A lot can go wrong, but a lot can go right, too. Besides, it’s a new world now.” Bly raised his glass before throwing his head back to down his ale.
Rex scoffed. “You think there’s a world where clones can freely love Jedi.”
Bly shrugged. “A clone can hope.”
Rex shook his head before downing another shot of tihaar.
“Listen, Rex, you want my advice? Well, here it is: our days are numbered. With no more war to fight, Force knows what becomes of us next. So maybe get your shebs to base and focus more on enjoying every kriffing second of the life she wants with you, instead of asking me a bunch of bantha-shit on our night off.”
Rex chucked at that. “This is our tenth consecutive night off, Bly.”
“Hey. I’m not complaining.”
“That’s fair.” Rex chuckled with a shrug. “So you and General Secura…”
“Like I said. Bly reiterated sharply. “I haven’t admitted to anything. And rule number two is neither should you. Ever.”
“Fine.” Rex smiled. Trust was earned. He could respect that. If not for blatantly seeing evidence of Bly's secret himself, alcohol or not, he never would have risked this discussion to begin with. Knowing he was every bit as involved with his Jedi as he was made it easier to be vulnerable.
“In any case. Thanks for the advice, brother.”
Bly nodded. “If you ever need to talk again, come find me.”
“Will talking involve me being punched again?”
“If you mention Aayla, count on it.”