Ahsoka Tano and Captain Rex Are Dead

Or when the lawn

Is pressed by unseen feet, and ghosts return

Gently at twilight, gently go at dawn,

The sad intangible who grieve and yearn.

When the familiar is suddenly strange

Or the well known is what we have yet to learn,

And two worlds meet, and intersect, and change…..

-T.S. Eliot, "To Walter de la Mare"

Chapter 3. Voices in the Grass

The ocean was made of grass.

They flowed in the wind, the waves of the savannah, dipping and churning, shivering in the night. The ripples chased each other across the plain, the long grasses flickering in color as they moved this way and that, ochre-red as the wind blew southerly, bone-pale as the wind blew northerly, casting the land into a series of variegated striations. The grasses danced as the small seed-pod tufts that tipped each stalk caught on the air, bending to the will of the wind. The seeds themselves were tossed up, and it seemed that little white flakes whirled over the red-white sea. Here and there, knotty branched trees with high russet leaves and massive black trunks rose like pools of pitch.

Six moons hung heavily in the black night. One was full, pale silver. One was split evenly down the center and Rex could not tell if it waxed or waned, for it was so perfectly halved. One was a sliver of a pink smile, tilted to one side in a celestial smirk. One was a set of golden horns, each tip sharp and reaching for the other. One was close to the horizon, a gibbous emerald eye watching the sea of grass. The last loomed overhead, frost-white with a chip picked off one end, only a day away from fullness. They librated slowly through the cloud dappled sky, though for all their brightness, they did not blot out the stars, which hung crystal clear and bright beyond the larger spheres.

There were many worlds with many moons, and many worlds graced with vast ranges of savannah, but there could be no mistaking what world Ahsoka brought them to. Even if Rex did not recognize turu-grass when he saw it, the constant flickering dance of the stripes across the land would have hinted at their homeworld; if Ahsoka sank to her knees, she would have so perfectly blended into the landscape she would have vanished. Togruta pigmentation was a perfect, natural camouflage, from the stripes of her lekku and montrals to the burnished russet of her skin.

He'd never set foot on Shili before. He'd seen images of the Ehosiq Sector, through flash training, and Shili was included, as a Republic world of long standing. It was not a Core world, but it was close, and prosperous enough and well placed enough to be important, if the Separatists ever managed to penetrate so deep into the Republic.

It was Ahsoka's native homeworld, after all. Other than the Jedi Temple and the Resolute, it would likely be a place she considered home. They stood on a great bluff, near the edge where there was more rock than soil, and the turu-grass grew thin, reaching up to their knees in sparse tangles. The savannah stretched out endlessly below, interrupted only by the occasional massive tree and glint of moonlight that suggested still water.

Ahsoka was still glowing, in shifting shades of aquamarine. His first thought was that she was all sea-colored, but standing against the sky, he reassessed. The diffuse glow around her looked like that of shifting magnetic field lines – more commonly called auroras. She was standing still, tensed, her chin down and her gaze forward, sharp. He'd seen her in this pose before, usually before battles, intent on what was out there, what was coming. She held his hand almost absently, slightly outstretched as she strained forward to listen and to look. He could see her lekku twitching periodically.

He was tensed, too, though not quite so much. They were dead; there wasn't much that could hurt them, now. No more battles, no more fear of death; they'd already accomplished that.

"Why Shili?" he asked her, drawing her attention away from the savannah and the grass sea. Shili, he could guess at. The craggy promontory was a more difficult question; they were in the middle of nowhere. "Why here?"

Ahsoka breathed in, deeply, and out, slowly. When she straightened, there was a set to her shoulders that he had not seen in her room, and it made him smile a little. When she turned to him, there was a clarity in her eyes, and the aurora around her wheeled more to blue than to green. "Because this is where I feel strong."

She grinned, in that fierce little way she would when she realized they were about to win a battle. "It takes three days, to catch an akul," she began, still smiling as she turned back to the savannah and lifted her free hand to sweep around to the east. "I caught a fish in a stream not far in that direction. I cleaned it and cooked it on a low fire here, on a stick." She brought her hand back, turned it flat and gestured towards the ground, the cliff where they stood. "The bluff is too high and flat for even an akul to climb up. I was safe in most directions, and I could see anything that tried to approach me from behind." She turned, and they looked back down the slope that led towards other cliffs and other flatlands. "I hadn't found anything to eat the first two days, and I was starving. All I could bring with me was my spear. It was early winter, and the thimiars were hibernating. The only things out were akul."

Her free hand tightened around a spear he could not see, and she could only remember. "I had strange dreams that night," Ahsoka confessed. "I didn't remember half of them, but when I woke up the next morning, I knew I would find an akul by the watering hole about three klicks that way." She gestured north, and in the far distance he could see the faint gleam of moonlight on water. "I killed it on the third day. No lightsaber. Just the spear and me. I stalked it through the turu-grass, fought it, struck it with my spear and watched it die. I breathed in its last breath, and then I took its teeth."

The cadence of Ahsoka's words had changed slowly as she spoke, from her more usual, relaxed tone to something that sounded formal, almost memorized, as she told of the hunt and kill. Rex knew he'd killed many times, though they were mostly droids, but there was never a formality to it. Killing was simply what he did, and he rarely used such a solemn tone in relation to it. Ahsoka spoke of her hunt as though it were special, and perhaps it was. He knew little of Togruta customs, but the only other Togruta he saw wearing akul teeth was Master Ti. Rex also knew Ahsoka did not wear her headdress frivolously; it was not mere jewelry and decoration, not any more than the jaig eyes on his helmet or the pauldron on his shoulder. Their symbols were different, but they each wore them with honor they earned.

"The Togruta say that when we die, our bodies return to the turu-grass, and the soul goes into the stars, and when the wind blows at night, the dead use it to speak."

That certainly put a more eerie feeling into the sound of the wind racing across the savannah. The rush of soft noise was a steady stream of bursts, accompanied by the pitched tihk-tihk-tihk of some nearby insects. Ahsoka was looking at him again, wide-eyed and asking for answers. "The Jedi say we fade into the Force. That we exist in the Netherworld of the Force." She looked away, back to the ocean of grass. "What are we, Rex?"

Some sort of ghosts, he knew, but she was asking why and how as much as what, and he still had no answer for her. Rex sighed and reached up with a free hand to remove his bucket. It was strange; he could feel its weight, see the optical readouts, command centers and data scrolling as he always did, but if he was dead, then the functions of the HUD were nothing more than a memory he was dragging with him into the afterlife. The HUD could give him no new data about being dead, though it was currently scrolling through pertinent information about Shili. He fumbled with the helmet, decompressing the seal and pushing it upward. It was awkward, doing this with only one hand, and Ahsoka must have noticed, because a moment later he felt her step closer and a second hand join in removing the helmet from his head.

Ahsoka's hand withdrew, and he swung the helmet around. Even if it wasn't really real, it was his helmet, and his memory of his helmet, and he wasn't going to give it up just yet. He clipped it to his belt, in the same place he always did when he needed it close at hand. The familiarity was a comfort. The radiance around Ahsoka did not look any different with his own eyes than through his HUD, though perhaps it was ever so slightly softer around the edges. His own hand still glowed as well, in a pleasant pale blue-gold. The Jedi couldn't be completely wrong – if they were ghosts, spirits, then the spirit was indeed luminous.

He didn't feel tired, and his legs didn't feel weary, but he wanted to sit anyway. He tugged on Ahsoka's hand, and she moved down with him, and sat beside him. He folded his legs, and Ahsoka tucked hers in, close enough she could rest her head on her knees if she wanted. "I don't know much of anything about being dead, kid. Dying, yes. Being dead, no."

Ahsoka nodded. He didn't have answers for her, not real ones. The important Jedi might, like General Yoda, and that Daughter person since she seemed to already be dead, too. Ahsoka, though, had seen almost as much death as Rex had; she'd been in plenty of battles by now, been in the medbay after returning. Dying was not a mystery; death was. He hadn't spent a great deal of time thinking about what, if anything, would happen to himself after death, but somehow, roaming aimlessly as a ghost wasn't something he'd come up with.

They sat quietly for a moment, listening to the wind and the tihk-tihk sound of beetles building castles in the dirt behind them.

Everything moved so fast. Rex lowered his head for a moment, trying to think. What seemed to him an hour ago, he was in the middle of a firefight. Then he was someplace called Mortis, with his blasters gone and a glowing, floating woman hovering in the air. Then, quick as thought, they were in Ahsoka's room on the Resolute. Now here. The Resolute was home, and familiar, but he figured Ahsoka was right; there was something strengthening about this spot, with its view and clear air and night sky.

He knew nothing of Mortis, or the glowing woman. That first. "What is Mortis, and who was the woman?"

Ahsoka turned to him and blinked once, in mild surprise. "Oh," she sighed, shifting uncomfortably. "That never did get down to you, did it? Honestly, I'm not sure what the Council made of Mortis, or Daughter or the rest of her family. Everything about Mortis was bizarre, Rex." Ahsoka took a moment to put her chin on her knees, then tilt her head to the side so that her montral rested on them instead. "And with the war, figuring out the mysteries of the dead got pushed aside. Awhile ago, if you remember, we got a weird distress call, on a really old Jedi frequency. Master Skywalker, Master Kenobi and I were supposed to rendezvous with you and investigate, but when we got to the rendezvous point, you and the Resolute weren't there."

"Why wouldn't I have been there?"

Ahsoka's head lifted enough that she could shake it and shrug. "No idea. That was another odd thing. But there was this monolith, and it pulled us in on some kind of tractor beam. There were three people living on Mortis. Daughter you met. There was also her father and brother. They're incredibly powerful, Rex. Or were. They," she hesitated, frowning in consternation, "they died. The Son killed the Daughter, the Father killed himself to stop the Son, and Master Skywalker killed him. Right after that, Master Skywalker, Kenobi and I all woke up, back in our transport, like it was a dream."

"But it wasn't."

"No."

Rex frowned, and looked out over the grass. If the Togruta were right, and the dead spoke though the sound of the wind, he couldn't understand them, even if he was dead himself. "The woman – Daughter – said the General transferred some of her life into you."

Ahsoka flinched and drew in on herself. "The Son…did something to me."

There was a moment where Rex simply stared at her, uncomprehending. Then he went cold with rage, the blue-gold corona around him tightening into a sharp edged gleam of ice. There were very few things in the galaxy that could make Ahsoka Tano curl up on herself, and the few things he could think of were exceptionally unpleasant. Ahsoka was a highly capable fighter. If this Son person had managed to not only hurt her, but instill enough fear in her to make her cringe, he was a serious threat. He remembered Ahsoka's words, earlier. She's not the one to worry about. The Son apparently was.

Ahsoka, though, was looking at him in some concern, with his expression so stony and his ghost-light so chilling. She tugged on his hand several times, drawing his attention. "I don't remember very much of it," she said quickly, but then halted, biting her lip. "The family, they represent aspects of the Force. Daughter is the Light. Father was the Balance. Son was the Dark."

"He hurt you."

She looked away. "I don't remember very clearly. Master Skywalker and Master Kenobi won't tell me exactly what happened, just not to worry about it. But I remember," she scrunched up her nose, in thought. "Fighting. Fighting Master. And a sword. Then waking up and Daughter was dead beside me on the ground. Daughter did something, to keep me alive."

After a long moment of wishing for his blasters, Rex forced himself to relax. If Daughter was around as a spirit, then there was nothing preventing Son from being around as well. He could only imagine the General's reaction, if this Son person hurt Ahsoka. It couldn't have been pretty. But it was over, and there was no threat here, though there were questions that needed answers and decisions that needed to be made.

"She said we could return to the physical world," Rex said slowly, watching Ahsoka for a reaction. "We seem to be here."

"To 'continue our struggle', whatever that means," Ahsoka finished bitterly. "Master couldn't hear or see us. How do we do anything if we can't be seen or heard?"

Again, they lingered in silence, and the turu-grass whispered across the plain and the beetles called their tihk-tihk-tihk behind them. The moons continued to rise overhead as clouds cast pale shadows that chased each other across the ground. The grass murmured, rustling, the dead speaking a language they did not share. What were they now? Nothing more than shadows? Rex looked down at their joined hands. Ahsoka was holding his so comfortably, though her eyes were apprehensive and the aurora dancing around her twirled in a way that was tense. He suspected his was the same.

Was this all? Was this all there was? It wasn't so bad, sitting on a bluff on Shili with Ahsoka, and listening to the wind and the grass beneath a sky of moons and stars, but it wasn't life either. If he was dead, then there was nothing for that – he couldn't come back to life. The Jedi seemed right about the spirit being luminous, but there was no fading into the Force, not this time, no joining with some abstract idea of a cosmic energy field. Maybe it was possible to still fade away, but if what that glowing woman said was true, Ahsoka was being her usual stubborn self and hanging on to some shred of life, and dragging him along with her.

That wasn't so bad either. Fading into the cosmos sounded very peaceful, but it was an experience he wasn't sure he was ready to have. He was a clone and a soldier and his life was simple in that manner; he was not a mystic, not a Jedi. But as a clone and a soldier and a man with a mind of his own, he wanted to do something good. Wanted to fight against evils and take care of his brothers and save the Republic he'd been taught since incubation was the pinnacle of all that was right with the galaxy. It was worth something. It was worth fighting for. It was worth dying for. He could rest, if he wanted. Ahsoka could rest, if she wanted.

Yet they were both restless under the moons and the stars. The tension was unlike it was before a battle; this was the tension of unknowing, of helplessness, of blindness. He could not remember the last time he was so powerless.

"There has to be a way," Rex said at length, slowly and carefully. "To be seen and heard. We just haven't learned how." Experience. They needed to learn.

Ahsoka's eyes retained their apprehension, but there was a softer sheen there now than there was a moment ago. She squeezed his hand. They were not alone in their helplessness. They were stronger together. Ahsoka looked away from the sea of grass, and up towards the stars for a long moment, before reclining further and laying on her back. Rex tilted his head and quirked a brow, looking down at her as she looked up at the stars. Their hands were still joined, but it seemed a bit odd, for her to be laying, and him to be sitting.

So he lay down beside her, and looked up and tried to see what she was seeing. The moons danced slowly overhead, inching along their nightly courses. Lying down in armor was never relaxing, never comfortable, though he'd done it plenty of times; this time, he felt no discomfort. This time, the ground merely seemed warm and moist from a recent rain.

Ahsoka lifted a hand and stretched out her fingers, as though she could grasp the sky. "I wanted to hunt an akul. I asked to come here and try, and Master Plo and Master Ti helped me prepare." She turned her hand a little bit, and the stars passed between her fingers. "I always knew I belonged at the Temple, and Shili was my homeworld. But when I got here?" she clenched her hand into a fist, fingers seeming to close over the white moon above them, "I knew I wanted to be out there." Her hand opened and she waved it, just enough for him to know she meant the stars.

Rex spent his whole life, expecting to die on the field, and he had. Such an end was easy to accept, as he'd spent his existence knowing how it would have to end. He dug his fingers into the rocky soil, and felt the stones pass through his incorporeal fingers like air, though they felt as real and as solid as any stones would. "Kamino was home, if only because that's where my brothers are." He turned his head and watched as Ahsoka turned hers as well, meeting his gaze through the scrub they lay on. His voice stayed low, and rumbled slightly as he said, "There was never any question of where I'd go."

Rex returned his attention to the stars.

He heard Ahsoka shuffle a little bit, and realized she was scooting closer. There was a determined glint in her eyes, and the incandescent aurora around her glimmered brightly against the night. Rolling herself towards him, she balanced on one hip and said, "Then what do we do next?"

They had no information. The next step was logical. "Reconnaissance," he said.

Ahsoka nodded, and rolled onto her back. "The galaxy is pretty big. That's a lot of recon to do."

"I think we have time."

Ahsoka laughed, and though there was some amusement at their black humor, it was tinged with sadness, too. They had no time limit because they had no obligations, and their lives had already expired. They had until the end of time itself, if they wanted.

And as they lay on the ground, they planned, and the wind caught their voices and carried them across the turu-grass.

Music for this chapter is Adiemus, by Adiemus.

I've always wanted to write Shili, and there's more Shili to come.

As always, much love to those of you who took a moment to review the last chapter! Thank you, DoubleEO, littlelionluvr, laloga, Count Mallet, sachariah, Librarian Girl, ThoseWereTheDays, Jadedsnowtiger and Admiral Daala! I always appreciate the feedback!

~Queen