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“Relax, Rex.”
Rex stopped fidgeting with his dress uniform and took a deep breath as the elevator ascended to the private banquet room atop one of Coruscant’s most opulent, spacious hotels. He turned to Anakin and gave him a half smile.
“Sorry, General. It’s not every day that I’m summoned to dinner with the Supreme Chancellor.”
“My invitation said to bring a guest,” Anakin said, shrugging. “Obi-Wan and Ahsoka are off-planet, Kit Fisto was busy, Mace Windu doesn’t like me, Aayla Secura is in a bacta tank…it pretty much came down to you and R2.”
“I’m flattered.”
Anakin gave him a friendly punch on the arm. “Come on. You’re the best soldier in the finest legion of the Republic…lead by the greatest Jedi General in the galaxy, I might add. How could I NOT invite you?”
As the elevator came to a halt, Rex smoothed out his uniform one more time and straightened his back. The doors slid open and a senate guard accompanied the duo into the banquet room. Rex looked around in amazement at the ornate carpet, wide windows, thick, embellished drapes, crystal chandeliers, and awe-inspiring murals on the high ceiling. There was a long table set with what had to be the finest platters and goblets on the planet. Fancily dressed military officials and politicians sat around drinking wine and chatting. There were no other clones in sight.
Rex pulled at his collar, breaking out in a nervous sweat when he saw Chancellor Palpatine at the head of the table with Mas Amedda to his right. He also recognized Tarkin and Yularen sitting among some unfamiliar, important-looking dignitaries further down. Rex silently cursed his nerves. Even though he ran through blaster fire on a regular basis, a dining hall was getting the better of him.
“Come on. We’ll sit by the Chancellor,” Anakin said.
“You can do that?” Rex asked as they made their way over to the table.
Anakin laughed. “I’ve been friends with him forever. He might as well be my kindly old grandfather.”
Anakin plopped himself into the chair to the left of the Chancellor. Rex sat down stiffly and pretended to observe the lavish appetizers and bouquets of exotic flowers before taking a discreet glance at his host. Kriffing hell, he was actually in the same room as the Supreme Chancellor of the Galactic Republic. He wanted to say something, but he was suddenly tongue-tied.
“Anakin! So glad you could make it. And you’ve brought a friend,” the Chancellor said.
“This is Captain Rex,” Anakin said proudly. "He just came back from a campaign on Iridonia. The 501st--"
“Rex?” One of the dignitaries interrupted, chuckling. “Someone actually names the clones?”
“Exactly what I’ve been asking. It’s quite silly,” Yularen said, taking a sip of wine and smirking, “I wonder if General Grievous names his battle droids.”
As the others laughed, Rex tried to distract himself by picking at his fingernails. Their comments stung, but he wasn’t about to get flustered in front of the Chancellor.
“But, he’s a customized clone,” Tarkin said. “Even colors his hair.”
“This ‘customized clone’ is the one on the battlefield while you all sit in your command ships and offices,” Anakin said loudly. “In fact, I’m pretty sure we’ve saved your skin once or twice.”
“You have a curious emotional investment in them, Skywalker,” Tarkin said. “They’re numbers that can easily be replaced. That’s why we use clones instead of real people.”
Rex suddenly felt cold and empty. He looked around at the well-dressed group as they nodded at Tarkin’s words. So this was what he was to them: a nameless asset. No matter how many times he risked his life for the Republic, he would always be a disposable clone and nothing more.
Anakin suddenly stood up. “Come on, Rex. We’re leaving.”
The Chancellor frowned at Tarkin, who quickly course-corrected.
“Er—I apologize, General. That was harsh. What I meant was—“
“Save it, Tarkin,” Anakin said. “Rex deserves as much respect as everyone else here.”
***
Rex let out a long sigh as they stood in the elevator again. “Well, that was interesting.”
Anakin turned and looked directly at him, his gaze intense. “You’re not a number. You’re a person. Promise me that you’ll never forget that.”
Rex smiled. “Sure thing, General.”
Anakin patted him on the back. “Are you still hungry? I know a great diner.”