Rex wrenched off his helmet with a gasp, removing the bashed in bucket lest he suffocate under its crushing hold.

The general… He tried to blink through the fog clouding his mind, but still the world remained a darkened blur. Fives… General…

Fives…

He needed to stand, to get up and assess the situation.

The situation… Rex blinked again, brushing a gloved hand against his pounding skull.

"Man down!"

The terrified cry echoed through his jumbled memories. If he squeezed his eyes shut tight enough, he couldn't see Backlash's black stare; didn't have to look at the gaping hole that pierced his lifeless body.

"We're losing altitude!"

"We're kriffing out of control!"

Fives…

Something brushed against his leg and Rex flinched.

"Hang on!"

"To what, sir?"

A dry cough tore at Rex's throat and he rolled onto his side, curling in on himself as his lungs fought to rid themselves of the dust and debris left over from the explosion.

The explosion…

"We're not gonna make it, Genera!"

The general…

"On my go, we jump!"

"Are you crazy?"

Fives…

"Jump!"

Another brush against his legs had him jerking upright, a movement that scared away a stray loth cat.

Good riddance.

A debilitating headache was his punishment for sitting, but he grit his teeth and pushed himself up the rest of the way, wobbling only slightly on his feet.

Right. Now what…?

Fives.

He needed to find Fives and General Skywalker.

Stars, we never should've been down here in the first place. This was a job for Security, not whichever 501st troopers were within range.

Oh, he was going to have a long talk with Fox after this…

Taking a few hesitant steps to find his center of balance, Rex trudged through the dismal, garbage-strewn streets that were the Lower Levels of Coruscant.

After receiving more than a few suspicious glares from passers by, Rex decided it best to keep his gaze fixed ahead. Any eye contact made after that was purely accidental.

This is why I hate Coruscant.

While he was used to the looks of superiority or disgust from Coruscant's Upper citizens, who didn't consider clones to be on the "fully human" level, they still rubbed him the wrong way, making him feel inadequate and inferior.

Yet they're perfectly happy to let us fight their battles for them as long as we don't get too close. The captain scoffed. Typical.

General Skywalker had to be nearby—after all, it was the general who'd cushioned their fall with the Force—but Rex felt weird calling out his name amid the unfamiliar hustle and bustle.

Don't draw attention to yourself, a voice whispered from within.

Then how the heck am I supposed to find my friends, huh? Got any advice about that?

Nothing.

I thought not.

Sucking in a breath, he realized he'd just get himself lost this way. Asking around seemed more appealing than shouting names throughout the smoky street—though not by much—so Rex approached the first friendly-ish looking face he could find.

"Excuse me, sir," he began, catching the attention of the Twi'lek in question and trying desperately not to focus on her scanty outfit. "I'm looking for someone—"

"Aren't we all?" She replied in a tone Rex also tried not to concentrate on too much.

She took a step forward and he took a step back.

"He's tall with short brown hair, and dark Jedi robes—"

Though her sudden hiss startled him, he refused to flinch.

"Jedi? There are no Jedi down here. They don't mingle with the likes of us. And neither are they welcome."

"I know that, ma'am, but there was an accident and—"

"Oh, honey, I know all about accidents," she purred. Rex didn't even want to try to figure out what that meant, so he stepped back again, retreating cautiously from her advances.

"Well, if you haven't seen him, then I'll just be moving on…"

"Come now," she said, making a grab for his arm, "we're hardly finished here!"

"I'm sorry, but I am."

And Rex ran, gasping for a good breath as he rounded the corner.

"Whoa, buddy!" The deep, throaty voice had him whirling around in time to face a large Trandoshan. "Whatever you're running from can't be bad enough to torture your lungs like that."

"You have… no idea."

The Trandoshan chuckled and went back to tinkering on his speeder bike.

Who fixes their vehicle out in the open like this?

With a shake of his head, Rex started off in a new direction. Then his feet stopped.

"Uh," he said, turning back to the mechanic, "you haven't seen any…" Jedi didn't seem the right word to use down here, so he switched tactics. "You haven't seen any other soldiers wandering about, have you?"

To his surprise and immense relief, the Trandoshan nodded, jerking his leathery head towards what appeared to be some sort of entertainment district. "Yeah, I saw a clone go that way."

Rex's heart skipped a beat. "How long ago?"

A shrug. "Maybe ten, fifteen minutes?"

Thanking the man, Rex sprinted off in the appropriate direction, hoping the Trandoshan hadn't been mistaken.

Please, let it be Fives. Please, let it be—

Yet, as he entered the flashy district, Rex found himself hoping it wasn't the missing ARC trooper at the center of what was unmistakably a drunken brawl.

As he drew closer, however, his helmet hooked securely to his belt, Rex couldn't ignore the flashes of white and blue armor that bounced around the inner circle of the thick crowd.

Oh, great.

Rex pushed and shoved his way to the front and, sure enough, there was Fives, flying through the air and landing at the edge of the makeshift ring.

His helmet was nowhere to be found, which explained the cluster of bruises gathering on his face.

Rex should've been disappointed—irritated, even—but the only emotions that tugged at his chest were hope and relief.

Now, they only needed to find the general.

But first, there was Fives to deal with.

With a deep, resigned breath, Rex launched himself into the fight, quickly calculating which of the two intoxicated bar patrons would be the easiest to knock out first.

Fives seemed to be holding his own for the most part, though the dazed look in his eyes wasn't very reassuring.

"Hey! Who the kriff are y—?" Rex's target slurred seconds before toppling backwards as the trooper's fist slammed into his nose.

"Two against one, boys? Really?" With a final kick to the jaw, Rex sent the Rodian spiraling into oblivion.

Fives, it was becoming clearer, didn't share the luck of his captain and was currently taking blind hits at the Pantoran using his stomach as a personal punching bag.

Quickly drawing one of his blasters, and ignoring the screaming of the crowd as they welcomed the entrance of "another one," Rex closed the gap between him and Fives. Then, in one swift, merciless movement, he smashed his DC-17 against the back of the Pantoran's head, effectively knocking him out of the fight and into unconsciousness.

Fives blinked. "R-Rex?"

Not wasting his breath on a reply, he simply slung his arm around the downed trooper and dragged him out of the circle. This proved a difficult feat as the crowd both cheered and booed the two clones, grabbing at them and calling for a rematch.

By the time Rex had cleared the group—keeping his grip on his brother while fending off unwelcome hands and claws before settling down on an out-of-the-way bench—his headache had returned tenfold. It seemed to scrape at his brain and pick at his skull, punishing him for ever letting himself fall so far from home in the first place.

He must have given voice to his pain because Fives glanced sluggishly up at him. "You all right?"

"'m fine."

Fives scoffed, wincing as his beaten face protested against the movement. "Right, because that sounded convincing."

"I just hit my head pretty hard, okay?"

"Hey," Fives replied, holding up his hands in mock defense, "you're not the only one."

This earned an eye roll from Rex. "At least I didn't pick a fight right off the bat."

"It wasn't my fault!"

"Sure," Rex muttered, scanning the crowd for any signs of his general.

"Honest! I was just walking through the district when one of those barves bumped into me and…"

But Rex wasn't listening anymore. He'd guessed the story before Fives had even begun. No, he was searching for Anakin.

He has to be around here somewhere.

"Have you made contact with the general yet?" He asked once Fives had finished his sob story.

"My comm's busted."

My comm…

With a jolt, Rex switched on the communicator attached to his wrist guard. It crackled to life… then promptly fizzled out.

"Guess that means yours is, too."

"Guess so." Sighing, Rex dug into one of the pouches on his belt and pulled out a small bacta patch. "Here. Before we go anywhere, let's get your face taken care of."

"I'm fine," Fives insisted, jerking away.

"Right. And I don't have a splitting headache. Now—"

"You have a splitting headache?"

"Hold still. That's an order," he added when it didn't appear as though Fives was going to listen.

With a huff, Fives stilled, allowing Rex to patch up the worst of his facial injuries, which consisted of a split temple and a bloody nose.

"There," Rex said, examining his handiwork. "Now, the general can't be too far away."

"Unless he's searching for us like we're searching for him and it turns out we're all just going in a big circle. Honestly, how do people find their way around down here?"

"Real helpful, Fives." Despite the way his head protested, Rex pushed himself to his feet. "Well, we'd best start searching."

"I thought you were supposed to stay put until someone finds you," Fives said, rising with more than a little difficulty.

"That's only if you're lost."

"Which, we are."

"We're not lost, Fives," Rex snapped. "We know exactly where we are and what we need to do to get back home. And what we need to do is find General Skywalker."

"Before someone else does?" Fives offered grimly and oh, how Rex wished he hadn't said something like that.

A shiver wracked his spine as he thought of the Twi'lek's words.

"Yeah… Yeah, come on. Let's get out of here while you still can."

"Me?"

Rex flashed a tight grin. "Well, I'm not the one who started the fight, so I don't have to worry about a couple of angry drunks coming after me."

This seemed to have its desired effect as Fives grabbed Rex's hand and plowed forward. "Right. Let's go."

Rex tried to keep the fires of his anxiety banked as they tramped through the trashy streets. The headache wasn't helping any, and neither was Fives' labored breathing.

"For the last time," Fives snapped before Rex even opened his mouth, "I'm fine."

"I didn't say anything."

"You were thinking it."

True, he thought vaguely, keeping his eyes glued to the thinning crowds.

Still no sign of the general.

Kriff.

Where in the stars is he?

No, where on Level 966 was he?

Kriff, we're a long ways down! Rex noted as he caught sight of a nearby, flashing sign.

As they journeyed further into the heart of the level, Rex became all-too aware of the silence. The still, eerie silence.

A glance to the side told him Fives was barely making it, and a glance around revealed the lack of roaring crowds.

Only a slight vacuum of a breeze filled the air, accompanied by the occasional shout or crack, though Rex didn't want to discover the source of those sounds.

"I don't think we're going the right way…" He mused aloud, knowing Fives probably wasn't paying him much attention. "Come on, let's try again back there—"

A sharp crack followed by a dull thud had Rex whipping his head to the side. Nothing. The alleyway was uncannily empty.

"Come on, Fives," he urged, tugging his brother along at a pace just quick enough to get out of there in a rush, but just slow enough as to not attract attention.

Whose attention? There's no one down here!

And no, Rex was not about to panic, but he couldn't prevent his heart from shifting into a higher gear.

They weren't lost. They weren't lost.

We just need to find General Skywalker—

"Uh, Rex…?"

Fives' tired, yet slightly alarmed slur had Rex taking another scan of their surroundings.

That's when he saw them.

A mixed handful of grimy Trandoshans and Falleens—and Rex thought he saw a Twi'lek in there somewhere—all dressed suspiciously like pirates. Or bounty hunters.

Or thieves.

Or mercenaries.

Rex's tortured mind ran through dozens of possibilities, all of which didn't bode well for the two troopers.

"Well, wouldn't you know it?" One of the Falleens began with a smirk, the obvious leader of the ragtag group. "I spy with my little eye a couple of soldiers far from home."

Rex stiffened, prepping his mind and body for a fight if necessary. He felt Fives do the same, but he knew his brother was still recovering from his last brawl, which had been more of a beating session than it had been a fair fight.

"Look," Rex said, voice firm, "we don't want any trouble."

"We don't either," the Faleen replied, his tone smoothe and intoxicating.

It was in that dreadful moment that Rex remembered his book training; remembered the danger of Falleen pheromones.

Of what could happen if one was unlucky enough to succumb to their spell.

His feet were backtracking before the Falleen could continue. "We're just trying to get back to the surface."

"Aren't we all?" The Falleen purred and, stars! Rex was sick and tired of other beings purring at him!

The low smack of armor against leather made it very clear that he and Fives hadn't met the alley wall, rather, they had fallen into the clutches of two meaty Trandoshans.

They struggled hard and might have escaped the strong holds of their captors had Rex not felt the cool touch of a blade press against his exposed neck.

He cursed himself for not putting his helmet back on earlier.

"Now," the leader began again, sticking to his honey sweet tones, "let's start over, shall we? You're not looking for trouble and I'm not selling it. However,"—and the wicked glint in the being's eye gave Rex tremendous pause—"I'm sure neither of you would mind disclosing a few Republic secrets before you make your way back to your little clone friends?"

No.

Rex could barely feel his head shaking underneath the weight of his splitting headache.

"Oh, come now." The Falleen began advancing slowly, reminding Rex in a sick, twisted way of the Twi'lek lady from before. "You'll never miss it. And it won't harm your precious Republic any more than this war already has. Now…" And when he turned his attention on Fives, Rex's heart stopped altogether. "Let's begin."

"Fives!" Was all Rex could manage, earning a rough jab to the side.

"The weakest are always the easiest to crack."

At this Fives glared at the mercenary. "I am not weak, you kriffing barve."

"Well, forgive me if you look a little worse for wear. Would it be better if I got you a chair? You appear as though you might pass out any second."

Fives only growled in response.

"I suppose that means no. Well, we'll have to get this over quickly, then."

The Falleen began quizzing Fives on GAR Intel, speaking to the trooper as if they were the closest, dearest friends.

And maybe they are…

He shook his head to clear it.

No!

Rex could feel the pheromones settling over Fives; the stray, invisible tendrils began coiling around his own mind as well.

No! I'm not falling for this! I'm not… I'm not…

"I…" he heard Fives say, his voice more of a sleepy sigh. "We don't… I won't… W-What was the… the question again?"

"Fives!" Rex forced out, though his tongue felt like lead. "Don't! Just stop talking! Stop—!"

Another jerk of the knife cut into his skin and Rex could feel the thick ooze of blood trickle down his neck.

Following orders came easy to almost every clone. After all, they were bred to be perfect, compliant soldiers. Even Fives, whose ideas sometimes bordered along the lines of insubordinate, obeyed orders from his superior officers.

So he dutifully clamped his mouth shut, but with each ticking second, Rex could see his resolve weakening.

No… No!

The Falleen repeated the question.

No! This isn't happening!

He would've preferred a dozen Seppies to twisted mind control.

Fives' eyes fluttered. "I… think—"

"Fives! Don't—!"

"Shut up!" His captor shouted. "Unless you want to know what it feels like for this knife to cut all the way through your neck!"

The head Falleen gave a disinterested, almost distracted sigh. "He is no longer of importance. Besides that, he's beginning to grate on my nerves. This one is so close to cracking. Just kill him and be done with it."

Rex felt his eyes bulge as the Trandoshan behind him growled with delight. "It will be a pleasure."

Just as Rex braced himself for the end—honestly, he never thought he would go out this way—the hand that held the knife was pulled forward by an invisible force. The break gave Rex enough time to kick his captor in the shin and duck under the blade.

Then, that same force lifted the Trandoshans captors and the head Falleen into the air before smacking them back down against the filthy ground.

"I suggest you rethink that statement," a familiar voice said, "if you know what's good for you."

The general.

Finally!

Rex's blasters were in his hands and firing at the mercenaries even before Anakin had drawn his lightsaber.

"Jedi!" The Twi'lek exclaimed, no small amount of fear lacing his tone.

"I believe you wanted to know something about the Republic?" Anakin taunted as he quickly disabled every thug that had the gaul to charge at him. "Well, let me give you a little taste of how we do things."

And again, the Force hurled a Falleen into the air, grounding him a good few yards away from the fight.

Rex held his own for the most part and he found that if he didn't think about the headache, he'd forget about it entirely.

Just focus on ending this so we can all go home.

Home…

Fives, on the other hand, was losing ground quickly, favoring his left side and clutching at his abdomen every other minute.

Right.

In a flash, Rex closed the space between him and his brother. "Come on. Let's get you out of here."

"But I… I have to—"

"I think General Skywalker's got it from here."

Still, Rex got in a few more shots as he dragged Fives away, two of which hit their targets with exceptional accuracy.

"Are you all right?" He asked once Fives was settled down against the front of an abandoned sweet shop.

"'m fine."

Rex smirked. "Because that sounded reassuring."

"Hey…" Fives' grin was feeble, but the fact that it was there at all calmed Rex's fears a bit.

"Those guys back there at the bar really did a number on you, didn't they?"

"Eh, I was… asking for it. I think…"

"And what happened to your helmet?"

A shrug was his only reply, one he would just have to accept for the time being.

A heavy sigh sounded behind him and Rex turned to see his general jogging towards them.

"I thought I'd never find you guys! Man, it's a jungle down here!"

"You can… say that again," Fives commented with a pained chuckle.

"Thanks for saving our skins back there," Rex said, trying to ignore the fresh onslaught of stabbing pain that pummeled his skull.

Anakin knelt down beside them. "I'm just glad I got there when I did."

"You're not the only one," Rex replied, swiping at the slow drizzle of blood that continued to drain from the slice on his neck. "Fives, I think you owe me a bacta patch."

"First pocket on the right," Fives slurred, his eyes fluttering once more as his head lolled.

"What happened?"

Rex didn't look at his general as he fished for the bacta patch. "He got into a fight. I don't think it was his fault. They got him pretty good, though. For a couple of drunks."

Anakin quirked a half-amused, half-concerned eyebrow. "You were bested by two guys who can't even walk straight?"

"Hey," Fives defended, "I'd just fallen who-knows-how-many levels… and 'm pretty sure 'm suff'ring from some… some sorta head injury. So… there."

Anakin merely pursed his lips. "I commed Kix and Ahsoka. They should be arriving soon with an evac and medical supplies. Just hang in there, Fives."

The ARC trooper's salute was perhaps the most pathetic Rex had ever seen. Yet, he was so glad he'd survived long enough to see it.

"Yes, sir!"

"And what about you, Rex?" And here, the captain felt a gentle hand land atop his shoulder. "Any injuries to report?"

"None, sir."

Anakin didn't appear convinced, and as Rex applied the patch to his neck, his general snatched up his helmet.

"Right, so that would explain why your helmet is all bashed in? Stang! How did you even get this thing off your head?"

"I honestly can't remember, sir."

"Well, we have a few minutes till help arrives, so…" Then, to Rex's surprise, Anakin tugged at his arm, pulling him over until they were all sitting side by side against the shopfront. "We might as well relax."

"Uh… sir?"

Anakin smiled. "Don't worry, I'll keep a lookout for your friends. Just close your eyes, okay?"

Close his… eyes?

"Trust me, it'll help with the headache."

But how did he…?

Jedi, remember?

Nodding to himself, Rex leaned his head back, but he couldn't close his eyes. Not yet. Not until…

"General?"

"Hmm?"

"Are you all right?"

Silence.

I thought so.

"I, uh,"—Anakin coughed lightly—"wrenched my arm somewhere along the line. Probably when we landed. It'll be fine."

"If you say so, sir."

"Just like your head will be fine, right?"

The cheeky grin had Rex smiling, too.

"Right."

The moment of camaraderie was broken by Fives' whine.

"Would you two quit it? You told me to get some… rest. How… can I do that with your constant… chatter?"

Rex rolled his eyes and Anakin grinned.

"Sorry, Fives," the general said, cradling his wrist with his opposite hand. "Didn't know you were concentrating so hard."

A mumbled curse was all the response they were granted, and despite his initial resolve to stay awake, Rex felt his eyelids droop.

He blinked hard, widening his eyes a little more than necessary.

And still, they remained heavy, like the weights back in the rec room at the base.

"Go ahead, Rex."

And Anakin's voice was so soothing.

"I've got you."

And his head hurt so kriffing much.

"It's all gonna be okay."

Yeah… Yeah, it will…

And Rex's eyes fluttered closed.

It's all gonna be fine.