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The small freighter drifts among the stars, directionless. The engine is long dead and the artificial gravity went with it. Life support will be next.
Cody has strapped himself into the pilot’s seat just so he’ll stop bumping his head. He tried to repair the engine, but the pirates got him good. There are no spare parts on board. He eyes the stars slowly spinning past the cockpit windows. It gives him a headache.
No hyperspace routes nearby. The pirates picked a good spot. Cody almost pities them - they got nothing out of this ambush aside from some rusty parts and a big surprise. They didn’t count on finding a clone trooper all the way out here, but that didn’t stop them from shooting him before rummaging through the rest of the ship. Cody only brought one blaster (stolen, technically, but he figures the Empire owed him that much) so he was more than outgunned. His armor (equally stolen) took most of the hits, but one shot managed to nick him just below his hip. Little bubbles of blood are floating around the cockpit because it took him a while to locate something to tie the wound off with. It’s all right now, won’t kill him - that honor will go to empty space. He rerouted as much power as he could to life support, but that gives him a measly two– maybe three additional hours.
It’s an old freighter, no cargo. Cody managed to pawn it off of a junkyard owner on Coruscant, which, coincidentally, is what his second blaster went towards. The ship was barely functional, but Cody only needed it to get to the next star system. He could have easily taken one of the gunships but those can be tracked and Cody kind of wanted his stint with freedom to last longer than one rotation. He also wanted his desertion to mean something. He hopes it stings. He hopes chaos will follow and the Empire will have to take a moment to rearrange its military around his absence. In reality, the Empire will likely have a replacement for him by the night cycle. Some natborn, probably, who has had their eye on Cody’s position for weeks.
It angers him that his desertion won’t disrupt the Imperial agenda even one bit. He did not plan on dying on a decrepit freighter; cold and alone, freezing to death long before his lungs can protest the lack of air. He always thought he was going to die on the battlefield - evidence suggests that this is the number one cause of death for clones, and Cody doesn’t think he should be an exception. He would have preferred a nice, honorable death on the battlefield to this slow, agonizing lurching towards death in a cramped cockpit in the dead of space.
This is definitely not how he saw his departure from the Empire going.
Cody taps the red light that indicates the emergency beacon is on and checks the subspace frequencies. Can’t hurt to keep it on as long as possible. Maybe he’ll get lucky. At this point he would even take getting raided by a second band of pirates over dying.
His mind alternates between being oddly okay with dying out here - unnoticed, never recovered, until all that’s left are bones in an armor - and being kriffing furious. He should have had a life after this. If nothing else, then to atone for his sins. Do some good.
Not that he deserves it. Too many good soldiers - truly good soldiers - are dead and he’s sitting in an ancient spaceship, getting ambushed by a bunch of pirates. Rex would have probably found a way out of this. He had a knack for absurd situations, somehow always coming out on top. When the report of Rex’s death hit Cody’s desk he didn’t freak out. The first two days Cody was absolutely sure that Rex would turn up. He could have hitched a ride with any military transport; civilian ships could have passed by too.
Then Cody saw the images of the downed Venator, taken from orbit. The crash site covered an entire sector of the planet, the smoke obscuring parts of the landscape, even days after the incident. Imperial command deemed any attempts at recovery pointless and thus ordered everyone back before they could even touch down on the surface.
Cody wanted to scream at someone - yell a search and rescue effort into existence - but his only options were a natborn admiral, Lord Vader or the Emperor himself. Neither was going to help so Cody held his tongue. He raged alone in his room, cursing Rex for– what? Not making it out of a Venator plummeting towards the ground? Cody didn’t care. Rex was supposed to come back and he didn’t, and that was enough to fuel Cody’s anger. It took another week or so before he realized that he was never going to see Rex again. Rex wasn’t going to miraculously show up to Cody’s next briefing; he wasn’t going to walk through the door to Cody’s quarters, smiling in a vaguely embarrassed manner, and telling Cody about the absolutely wild trip he had coming back to Coruscant.
Cody’s head lolls to the side. If he squints he can picture Rex sitting in the co-pilot’s seat. He misses Rex so much it hurts to breathe. Could also be the slowly dwindling oxygen supply, but since it’s happened before in perfectly ventilated environments Cody assumes it’s not his time yet.
He remembers the last time they saw each other. They were both so hopeful. Cody was about to head out with general Kenobi to track down Grievous and it felt like they really had a chance to stop him for good. Rex was set to meet up with Ahsoka Tano and Bo Katan, who had located Maul. Two long-standing enemies who might finally meet their fate.
“Be careful out there,” Cody said. They had ducked into a quiet corner near the hangars, both in full armor, buckets tucked under their arms, and ready to go.
“You know me,” Rex grinned, “I always am.”
“I do know you,” Cody retorted and poked Rex in the chest, “that’s why I’m saying it.”
Rex poked him right back, smiling. “Like you’re one to talk. Mister Pop-a-clanker-with-my-bare-hands. You do know we have ordnance for that, right?”
“Shut up.” Cody held up his hand and wiggled his fist. “Sometimes these are faster.”
“Sure,” Rex laughed, “keep telling yourself that.”
“Shut up,” Cody reiterated and pulled Rex in for a kiss. He could feel Rex smiling against his lips. That cocky sheb. But Cody couldn’t keep from smiling too and when they parted, he said, “See you soon.”
They never saw each other again. It’s weird that this is the memory that comes up. Cody would have thought that in the end he would remember more than the last conversation he had with the man he loved. It was such an arbitrary conversation, too.
You never know when you’re going to talk to someone for the last time - no one knew that better than clones. Cody can’t recall who he talked to last before he left. A random stormtrooper, possibly? Or was it, in fact, Crosshair? Cody wonders if Rex remembered their last conversation. Then again, Rex probably had other things to worry about at the time.
Cody shifts uncomfortably, tightening the seatbelt, and winces when it chafes his wound. He doesn’t want to think about Rex’s death in his last moments.
He leans his head back. There’s no gravity so it’s not quite as relaxing as it should be. He’ll fall asleep eventually - or something like sleep anyway. It won’t matter soon enough. It almost feels as if somebody else is steering the freighter, so Cody imagines Rex in the co-pilot’s seat for a little longer. In truth, it’s just the remnants of the plasma cannon shot that’s providing the illusion of motion. Maybe that’s why it feels like Rex is flying - the man spent too much time with Skywalker, whose approach towards flying was along the lines of ’If you can reuse the spacecraft afterwards you weren’t trying hard enough’. Cody blurts out laughing, the sound oddly muffled by the slowly diminishing oxygen in the tiny cockpit. Rex was an exceptionally good shot, but Cody hated letting him pilot on their inspection runs. He never said so though. It made Rex happy and Cody so loved to see him smile. It was the one thing Cody was looking forward to after every tiring campaign and losing too many men. He loved returning to Rex.
Cody shivers. His armor might keep him warm a tad longer than any civvies would, but that only means he’ll struggle a few minutes longer. He could get up and grab his bucket that’s floating around in the cargo hold somewhere, but he doesn’t feel like it. The HUD will only tell him how fast he’s dying and Cody happily passes on that particular countdown. He prefers to close his eyes and lets his mind wander.
He thinks of the first time he left Kamino, full of vim and vigor, ready to face the galaxy and give those Seppies hell. Rex hadn’t been assigned a real-world posting yet so he stood by the edge of the hangar, looking lost.
“I’ll call you up when I get my marching orders,” Rex said, putting on a brave smile.
Cody laughed. “I think I might know before you do.” He gave Rex’s shoulder a good-natured slap. “How about I call you?”
Rex’s cheeks turned pink, but he held Cody’s gaze. “Sure. I’d like that.”
Cody grinned. The blonde hair somehow accentuated every emotion on Rex’s face, more than with any other clone. Maybe it was because the deviation from the template made you look at him more closely. Either way, Cody loved it. He couldn’t wait to see Rex again so they could swap war stories.
“I’ll see you out there,” Cody said and at the same time waved his finger at Rex. “Don’t cause any trouble while I’m gone, okay?”
Rex crossed his arms and pouted. “I’m a model soldier. Haven’t you read my performance reviews?”
“I have,” Cody chuckled and rubbed his hand over the short fuzz of Rex’s hair, “but there’s no column for stupidity, so–”
Rex swatted Cody’s hand away and shoved at him. “I’ll be right behind you, you’ll see.”
Cody giggled, defending against another playful jab from Rex. “Good,” Cody said and stood up straight, “I’ll need someone to watch my back.” He saluted, which Rex mirrored with a proud smile. When Cody put down his arm he realized that it could be weeks, if not months until they saw each other again. He didn’t allow the idea that they might never see each other again to intrude upon his mind. They had grown so close over the past years that Cody’s heart constricted painfully at the thought of not having Rex nearby at any given moment.
He leaned in and left a kiss on Rex’s cheek, causing his face to turn an even darker shade of red. Cody wasn’t sure he’d done the right thing, but then Rex smiled. It was the first time they ever kissed. It had been a long time coming, but Cody didn’t think it would happen on his last day on Kamino.
Rex followed suit, all right. Cody laughs quietly when he remembers all the banthashit Rex got up to over the years. He worried Cody sometimes. It was mutual, as Rex often told him in the quiet of Cody’s quarters. Cody never thought of himself as reckless, but Rex always found incidents to cite where, granted, Cody could have been a little bit more cautious. It was both nice and horrifying to think that Rex worried about him. Cody didn’t want Rex to worry.
He wonders what Rex would have to say about this kark-up of a situation.
“You managed to survive a whole ass war, a regime change, Sith running rampant, not to mention Crosshair’s kriffing attitude, and you end up here?” Cody can practically see Rex shaking his head. “When you said ‘See you soon’ this is not what I thought you had in mind.”
Cody snorts. “I always liked when you picked me up at the spaceport,” he tells no one in particular. His vision is becoming blurry and it’s notably harder to breathe. Ice crystals have begun to form in the corners of the cockpit windows. Cody’s breath dances in the air like a phantom. He hugs himself and tucks his hands under his arms. He could go through the cargo hold, see if the freighter’s previous owner forgot some blankets there, but talking to this imaginary Rex is much nicer.
“I liked having you back,” Rex says. Cody knows he’s a figment of his oxygen-deprived mind, but he can hear Rex so clearly, it’s hard not to let himself sink into the illusion. Maybe those are Rex’s arms keeping him warm; Rex’s breath fogging up the windows.
“Is it weird that I don’t want to go?” Cody asks. His lungs are working overtime trying to do what they can with the little bit of air that they’re getting. His chest hurts. Rex is squeezing him too tightly.
“None of us did.” Rex shakes his head.
“What’s it like,” Cody rasps, “on the other side, I mean.” His fingers are all tingly.
Rex shrugs. “I don’t know. I’m here with you.”
Cody slaps Rex’s thigh, but there’s nothing there. His arm ends up resting awkwardly in mid-air, reaching for someone in the co-pilot’s seat who isn’t there. Rex curls his hand around Cody’s - or perhaps that’s the hypothermia gnawing at Cody’s extremities. He closes his eyes, Rex’s smile still on his mind.
“Thanks for picking me up,” Cody whispers.
There is no answer.
“Hold on, almost got it.”
“Hurry up, Echo. We need some karking power in here.”
“Give it a second. This gonk droid is about a hundred years old.”
Voices. Familiar voices. Distorted by vocoders, but familiar nonetheless. Cody groans. There’s something on his face; somebody is holding him upright.
“Here we go.”
Cody feels his body become heavy with a start. He slumps into the seat, but the hands on his arms keep him from falling over. He wants to open his eyes but nothing seems to be working right. At least breathing is much easier now.
Gloved hands brush over his face. His skin is so cold it barely registers, but it must feel nice.
“Come on, Cody, breathe. That’s it.”
Cody’s lungs ecstatically grab a hold of every oxygen molecule they can and expand painfully. The air he’s breathing is warmer than expected. Very slowly, he manages to blink one eye open. The other remains pitifully unresponsive.
Somebody tucks a blanket of some sort around him. It rustles, but it’s warm underneath. Cody finally manages to pop his other eye open, revealing a heavily distorted world. If nothing else, it’s fuzzy in 3D now.
A bucket swims into view; blue, white. Cody would laugh, if he had the strength. That looks comically like Rex’s jaig eyes.
“Hey, there you are,” the bucket says. It sounds soft, like whoever is under it is smiling.
Cody paws at whatever is covering his face. Bucket-face stops him, a gentle hand on his. “No, keep it on a little longer.”
Cody frowns. That is a very familiar voice. And those are jaig eyes - in 501st blue, no less. He blinks as the bucket turns to someone out of Cody’s sight. “How’s it looking?”
“I think we’re good.”
A seal fizzes, then another somewhere further away, and the figure next to Cody removes his helmet. Blonde hair, a bit of stubble around a bright smile. Rex?
No, that’s impossible. Rex is dead. If Cody is seeing Rex then that must mean–
“Am I–...,” Cody croaks, breathing heavily into the oxygen mask, “am I dead?”
Rex laughs and wipes away tears. “No,” he sniffles, “but you gave it your best shot.”
His mind is a bit slow so Cody takes a moment to mull this over. He lifts his arm, wincing at the pain that seems to rush everywhere in his body. Possibly-Rex leans in to allow Cody to run his fingertips over his face - it’s warm, and wet, and full of life.
“Rex?” Cody mumbles, his heart beating way too hard in his chest. He swallows to chase away the dry feeling in his throat. “Are you–... real?”
Rex nods eagerly. “Yes.” He takes off his gloves and takes Cody’s hand into his. “I’m real. I’m here.”
Cody marvels at the hands cradling his; so familiar. It feels like only a few moments ago he imagined those fingers intertwined with his, making the pain stop. “You’re not–... dead?”
“No,” Rex pulls Cody’s hand towards his chest and reaches out to touch Cody’s face. “Couldn’t leave you behind.” He grins through a sob.
It hurts to smile, but Cody doesn’t care. He swipes the oxygen mask off his face in a jittery motion, hiccuping at the sudden change in air pressure. Rex laughs and lets himself get pulled in for a hug that Cody can barely maintain. Their armor clacks awkwardly while the thermal blanket crinkles between them. Rex’s breath is hot on Cody’s face as he showers Cody with kisses. They burn on Cody’s cheeks as his skin slowly warms up.
If this isn’t real Cody is going to have to put in a strongly worded complaint with the Force.
Somebody politely coughs behind them so Cody cranes his neck to see who Rex brought along. It’s Echo. He had completely escaped Cody’s attention up until now.
“I don’t mean to be a party pooper, but this gonk droid only had half a charge when we got him and we won’t be able to keep this rust canister going for much longer.” He points over his shoulder. “Might I suggest that we relocate to a ship with actual air and functioning heating in it?”
Cody shoots Echo an embarrassed smile. He glances at Rex, who gives an encouraging nod and helps Cody undo his seatbelt. “Of course. Sorry,” Cody says and hisses at the jolt of pain from his leg.
Echo is by their side in an instant, fixing the thermal blanket around Cody and hooking his arm under Cody’s shoulder. “No worries.” He smirks. “I knew what to expect.”
Cody freezes in their combined embrace as they maneuver him out of the chair. “You, uh… knew?”
Rex answers instead, offering Cody an apologetic smile. “I told him. I didn’t think you would mind, now that you’ve, uh… resigned your commission.”
“How did you even know about that?” Cody wonders weakly. He feels Rex’s shoulder shift in a shrug.
“I kept an eye on you,” Rex says. When Cody side-eyes him, he adds, “I wanted to kidnap you from HQ months ago but Echo said you would figure it out on your own. And here you are.”
Somebody pats Cody’s back and it’s unclear whether it is Rex or Echo. Cody scrunches up his nose. There’s an insult hiding in there somewhere, but he’s too tired to try and work it out. He leans heavily against Rex and mutters, “Well. Thanks for coming to pick me up.”
This time there’s an answer and it’s a kiss against his temple that Cody hopes will be the first of many to remember.
