DESTINY - CHAPTER 03
Consciousness returned to Rex slowly. Eventually he opened his eyes but lay perfectly still. It only took him a moment to recall his circumstances. As a soldier he'd learned long ago to maintain his situational awareness, even when injured and exhausted.
It was night. He had no sense of how much time had passed since T'annon had arrived at his cage. Rex remembered her doing … mystical stuff … to him. He had no other way to describe it, but he wouldn't discount it because he'd witnessed the Jedi do miraculous things with the Force. He knew what she had been doing was real because he'd immediately felt relief.
Then the lights had gone out. He hadn't passed out, exactly. He'd drifted off into a kind of heavy, peaceful and dreamless sleep.
Now that he was awake Rex took a mental inventory of his broken ribs. The pain had receded from a roaring fire to a sputtering spark. He took in a tentative breath and was relieved when his side barely protested.
Next he conducted a quick scan of the rest of him. He seemed to be no worse for wear. He was cold, however, which made sense because he was stuck in a cage, outside, in the middle of the night.
He pulled himself upright into a sitting position with his back against the bars. He was surprised to find several blankets on the cage floor. He smiled and thanked the Maker for his little Pantoran friend. She obviously knew what it was like to be cold and held in a cage. He grabbed the blankets and wrapped them around his shoulders and torso.
As he rubbed his hands together against the cold he began to scan his surroundings in the pale moonlight. He jerked in surprise when his gaze landed on a hooded figure sitting on the ground a few meters away from the cage.
He wasn't sure why he hadn't noticed the figure earlier. His genetically enhanced senses and intuition were especially good at letting him know when he was being watched. But the figure was like a ghost. There was no sound, no movement, nothing that would alert anyone to its presence.
Rex sat unmoving, staring at the figure. He knew it was watching him, but he couldn't see beyond the shadow of the cloak's hood.
Finally, he couldn't take the stalemate any longer. "What do you want from me?"
"You have nothing I want, clone," said a voice full of disdain.
Rex knew that voice. It was the female Togruta that had kicked him halfway across the compound. The one they called the commander.
The commander slowly peeled her hood back revealing white montrals with dark chevrons that stood tall in the moonlight. A simple leather headband encircled their base around the top of her head. He remembered her waist length lekku, the front pair partially visible under the cloak, pushing up around her neck. Her white facial markings stood out in the dim light. Though there wasn't enough light to make out the tone of her skin, he remembered its rich sienna color.
The moon glinted off her large predator's eyes. Rex remembered the Togruta had evolved from feline-like predators and he had no doubt she could see him clearly in the moonlight. Although he couldn't make out their hue, he remembered her eyes were a deep, cerulean blue. They had been hypnotic … and angry. They had definitely been angry.
For a moment he thought about demanding she release him. But he remembered the last time he'd interacted with her and it hadn't gone so well. He reconsidered and decided to try a more circuitous approach rather than his typical style of plowing forward headfirst.
"Don't you have anything better to do than watch me sleep?" he asked.
"No."
She sat, unmoving, her stare unnerving.
"You don't have to hang around on my account." Rex said. "I imagine you have somewhere else you need to be."
"No."
Rex let out a frustrated huff. This approach was accomplishing nothing. Time for a new strategy. No antagonism, but lots of butt-kissing.
"Hey … ah … thanks for sending T'annon. She really helped me out."
"I'm not sure it's me you should thank, clone" she said.
"Well, please thank whoever convinced you to allow it."
Even though it was dark, Rex clearly saw one white eye marking raise on her face.
"And the blankets," he continued. "I'm grateful for them as well. Whom do I have to thank for them?"
"The blankets were T'annon's idea," she said.
Rex let out a chuckle. "She's quite a kid," he said softly, more to himself than to the Togruta.
"You seem to have made an impression on her, clone," the commander said.
The commander's continued use of the word clone to demean and dehumanize him was obvious. The tactic wasn't new to Rex. He and his brothers were used to prejudicial slurs and innuendo. Not that it didn't bother him - it did. But normally he could keep his emotions and reactions under control. But right now he had little resilience left and he felt a spark of anger beginning to burn in his belly.
"My name … is Rex," he ground out, struggling to keep his voice steady. "Not clone."
"So T'annon informed me. Though I fail to see the purpose of taking on a name. All clones are the same."
"We're not just 'meat droids'," Rex growled. "We're human beings. Just like some of your human friends here."
"I don't think you're like any of my friends."
"Really? Have you ever met a clone before?"
"You're the first."
"Then how are you so sure you're right? You don't even know me."
"I don't want to know you, clone."
Rex looked away in frustration. This was getting nowhere fast, and they were both starting to get on each other's nerves. He was trying to figure out what to say next when she spoke.
"Unlike T'annon, I won't become your friend," she said with quiet menace. "We are mortal enemies."
Now he knew what this was about. He wasn't surprised.
"I'm not your enemy," he said quietly.
"So you say. But you're a clone, correct?"
"Yes."
"And you're a soldier of the Republic."
"Yes."
"And you killed my people and destroyed my planet." Her voice was quiet and filled with venom, sending a cold chill down his spine.
"No!" Rex protested.
She continued to stare at him in the moonlight, her eyes boring holes into him.
"But you admitted you're a clone."
"I wasn't at the Battle of Shili," he said, gritting his teeth. "I was still a young cadet on Kamino."
"It doesn't matter. You're all the same. You all have the same DNA. You're all made for the same purpose. You all share the same guilt."
Rex pressed his lips together. He had no response to her accusation, because, in a way, he could almost agree with her.
The Battle of Shili had been one of the first great battles of the war between the Confederacy of Independent Systems and the Grand Army of the Republic. It had also been the greatest disaster of the war.
The CIS had occupied Shili and the GAR had arrived to liberate the planet. The ensuing ground and space battle had been gargantuan. Within ten rotations the fighting had destroyed the ozone layer of the atmosphere beyond repair. The unfiltered radiation from Shili's sun began to decimate the planet. Within weeks every living thing on Shili was dead.
There hadn't been enough time for the Republic to coordinate an evacuation on a planet wide scale. Even if there had been time, the Republic had lacked the resources.
The Separatists didn't care. They'd just packed up what was left of their droid army and left.
In the end, the planet had become uninhabitable while a hundred million Togruta and a quarter million clone troopers had died.
The Battle of Shili had been deconstructed and analyzed, becoming required study for all clone cadets and GAR personnel in an effort to never again repeat that tragedy.
The GAR had learned valuable lessons from the Battle of Shili, but at an unforgivable cost — the destruction of an entire home world and the genocide of the Togruta people.
This Togruta's home world. This Togruta's people.
Rex looked down at clenched fists resting on his thighs. An insistent and painful whisper pushed its way past his lips.
"I'm sorry."
The clone's utterance had been so soft Ahsoka almost missed it. For a moment she thought her montrals had played a trick on her. But her hearing was as good as her eyesight and she knew she'd heard correctly.
He'd said he was … sorry.
Of anything the clone could have said, Ahsoka would never in a million years have expected that.
She stared at the clone, at a loss for words. Eventually she blew out a breath and stood. With one last glance at the clone in the cage she turned and stole away through the night's moonlit shadows.
Ahsoka's mind raced as she walked slowly toward the solitude and sanctuary of her hut. She'd been so angry at the clone as he'd sat in the cage, needing so much to make him understand the nature of his guilt. To make him hurt - even just a little. Her grief had found her again and it had taken all her training and discipline to keep her voice level and her emotions under control.
But at his whispered apology, more to himself than to her, the anger and grief had deflated, like atmosphere being sucked out of an open airlock.
If anything, she'd expected an outright denial of responsibility, or some rationalization about how the clones were only following orders. Or maybe parroting by rote the Jedi's high and mighty justification about restoring peace and justice to the galaxy.
But an apology from a clone — she didn't know what to do with that.
Not that she had any experience with clones to have reasonably predicted his response. She'd left the Jedi Order immediately after the war broke out, so she'd never had the opportunity to interact with clones. And the Republic wasn't interested in this unaligned sector of the Outer Rim that she now called home, so GAR forces were almost non-existent. Which had the additional benefit of making it easier for her to hide from both the Separatists and the Republic.
Ahsoka wondered if most clones felt as this one did or if he was an anomaly. She doubted the first possibility and feared the latter. Because if he was somehow different, it removed any justification for her behavior toward him and would make her decisions about his future much more difficult.
Earlier in the day Ahsoka's mind had been focused and her resolve clear about the clone. But now, a shadow of doubt crept through her thoughts and it unsettled her.
Arriving at her hut Ahsoka went inside and stoked the fire with another log. There was no use trying to sleep. Dawn was only a few hours away and she knew her mind would not let her rest. She grabbed another blanket to wrap around herself and eased down to the cushions before the fire, pondering her dilemma.
This clone was different from Ahsoka's preconceived notions of clones — from his blond hair to the strange blue markings on his armor. He wasn't barbaric, but instead, seemed thoughtful and intelligent. He wasn't ugly — being pleasant to look at. He'd shown compassion toward T'annon. And … he'd said he was sorry.
But he was also irritating and frustrating.
And … confusing.
Ahsoka ground her teeth in frustration. Curse the Maker and curse Bandrix for bringing this clone to her threshold. And curse the Force for its hand in all of this, no matter its intent.
Ahsoka let out a frustrated groan. She pulled the blanket tighter around her and stared into the depth of the flames.
The next morning found Ahsoka in the daily planning meeting with her "council." They'd gathered around a small table inside their large maintenance and storage building. The group functioned more like a command team, but no one could stomach the thought of comparing their clan, and what it did, to the military, especially her.
Ahsoka hadn't slept, as was evident by the large cup of caf in her hand and her inattentiveness during the meeting. She'd brooded the rest of the night about the clone, frustrated that his fate was now in her hands, a responsibility she wanted about as much as she'd want an angry rancor as a gift. Her attention had kept wandering, her mind going back to her conversation with the clone … and his apology.
"Commander?"
Ahsoka flinched and looked up from her caf, embarrassed that her inattention had been noticed.
"Are you alright?" asked Manami, who functioned as the community's operations and logistics specialist. Her Twi'lek and human heritage gave her an exotic air. She was stunning, with tan skin and petite lekku. And she was brilliant at managing the operational components of the clan.
Ahsoka grimaced and caught the frown on Dian'thy's face, sitting across the table.
"Sorry," Ahsoka said. "Please, continue."
"The last item we need to discuss is the plight of the settlers on Gwedonan," Manami said. "They are in desperate need of medical supplies. It's been a year since we delivered the last load to them. Since then they've been unable to reestablish adequate trade connections to resupply." Manami scowled. "The Republic is sucking up every resource from the Mid-Rim inward to the Core, like a black hole. Nothing is making it to the Outer-Rim."
"Maybe this should be our next mission," Ahsoka said, glancing around the table.
Everyone nodded in agreement.
Ahsoka felt a surge of energy. This was exactly what she needed. Planning a mission would distract her from thinking about the clone and make her feel like she was doing something useful.
"Reesa," Ahsoka said to the thin, dark skinned human female who was their technology and information specialist, "locate possible sources of medical supplies. Rank the targets from lowest to highest risk. I don't want to go in — or leave — with blasters blazing."
Reesa nodded. "You got it, Commander."
Ahsoka turned to a tall Weequay male, their weapons and tactical specialist. "Jin, when Reesa has identified the targets, put together a tactical strategy for each of the first three on the list. Include weapons, equipment and personnel. Work with Bandrix to finalize the incursion and recovery plans."
"Sure, Commander," Jin said.
"Bandrix?" Ahsoka said, trying to catch the Togruta's eyes.
Bandrix kept his eyes focused on the tabletop where they'd been the entire meeting, but he responded with a curt, "As you wish, Commander."
Ahsoka was not happy with Bandrix and his brooding behavior was annoying, adding to her displeasure. She'd need to have a talk with him. But now was not the time.
"Last week I noticed the YT's hyperdrive cooling system wasn't running at full efficiency," Ahsoka said. "If we need to run, we'll need all the speed we can get. Can you fix that, Waunado?"
The small Ugnaught across from her, who served as their chief engineer, nodded solemnly. "It shall be done. I have spoken." he said.
"Kip and Dian'thy, when we return with the supplies, get them organized and packaged for the delivery to Gwedonan," Ahsoka said. "I'm sure other clan members would be happy to help."
"You bet, Commander," Kip replied.
Dian'thy gave an affirming nod, but he was still frowning.
"Alright," Ahsoka said, trying to force some enthusiasm into her voice, "let's get to it."
No one moved. Instead, they fidgeted in their seats, exchanging furtive glances.
The tension in the room had suddenly become so thick Ahsoka could have cut it with a vibro-blade. She had a pretty good idea of what they were thinking. She scanned their faces, waiting for the first person brave enough to break the silence. When it was obvious no one was going to speak, she broached the issue head on.
"You want to talk about the clone," Ahsoka said.
Reesa, one of the older and more experienced members of the group, finally spoke. "What are we going to do with him?" she asked.
"Yeah," Manami said. "Taking captives isn't really what we do. I don't know the first thing about the care and feeding of a … prisoner."
Several other members gave tentative nods, agreeing with Manami.
After a few moments of silence, Bandrix spoke. "We don't need to keep him as a prisoner." He fixed a glare on Ahsoka. "I am willing to execute the clone for war crimes against Shili and the Togruta."
Ahsoka kept her eyes locked with Bandrix, unwilling to relinquish one iota of her authority regarding this issue. She was just about to challenge his statement when Dian'thy spoke.
"Even if — and I emphasize the word 'if' — the clone has committed any crimes against the Togruta, it is not our role to act as judge, jury and executioner," the elder Twi'lek said.
Bandrix whipped around to face Dian'thy. "If not us, then who?" he challenged, his voice loud and angry. "Certainly not the Republic."
Dian'thy didn't flinch. "Killing the clone may slake your desire for revenge, Bandrix, but it will not lessen the tragedy suffered by your people, nor the scars it left on your soul."
"You cannot fathom the suffering of my people, nor the condition of my soul, Dian'thy. Let me tell you about suffering-"
"Enough!" Ahsoka snapped. She glared across the table at both Bandrix and Dian'thy.
After a long, tense silence Manami said, "The clone's presence is a threat to us. But we can't just let him go. If he makes it back to the Republic-"
Ahsoka finished the thought for her, "…they'll send soldiers to investigate. When they find out we're stealing Republic salvage and pirating Republic supply shipments, they'll shut us down."
"That's putting it mildly, Commander," Jin said.
"If he's captured by the Separatists, they'll torture him for information," Reesa added. "I doubt he likes us much. He'd probably be happy to give us up. We'll have droids breathing down or necks faster than I can beat Waunado at Sabacc."
The Ugnaught let out a serious grunt. "This is so," he said.
The room grew quiet again.
The dilemma was clear, but other than Bandrix's unacceptable suggestion, no one volunteered an answer. Ahsoka knew why. Because it was her responsibility to make the decision.
Even though each member in the community looked to her as their leader — their 'commander' — theirs was a loyalty forged out of respect, not a forced chain of command. Over the years she'd tried hard to earn that respect. She was a fearless fighter, skilled tactician, and compassionate leader that they all could depend on. Slowly, under her leadership, their clan had grown to the point where they were able to make a difference to the needy inhabitants of the small moons and planets in their sector.
Ahsoka had heard them out. She knew they trusted her and would follow whatever decision she made.
She just wished it was as easy for her as it was for Bandrix. He would kill the clone and rejoice in it. He had no conflict warring inside him that kept him up at night. Nothing to make him question who he was and what he believed. No chance that the dark side of the Force sat waiting for him to lose his way so it could claim him.
She wouldn't kill the clone, despite her rage at his kind. That meant she had to find another solution.
"We can't release the clone. And we won't harm him," Ahsoka said. "For the time being, he stays here."
"We cannot keep him in a cage," Dian'thy said. "He is not an animal."
Bandrix let out a derisive snort.
"He will need shelter from the elements," Dian'thy continued, ignoring Bandrix. "Access to food and water. I imagine he'd like to use a 'fresher about now."
That coaxed a few chuckles from the group.
"The clone can stay here," Waunado said. "There is a small storage room in the back with space for a sleeping cot. It will be colder soon. I can fashion a heating device for the room. I can setup one of the salvaged portable 'freshers. This is so. I have spoken."
Ahsoka nodded at the Ugnaught. "Thank you, Waunado."
"He'll try to escape," Jin said. "He's a soldier. That's his job."
Heads nodded in agreement.
"Reesa, how difficult is it to reprogram the restraining collar from manual to automatic activation if it exceeds a certain distance from a defined area?" Ahsoka asked.
"Piece of cake," Reesa said.
"Good. Program it so the clone can move about in this building, but no further.
"I'll get right on it."
"Set it to stun, not kill," Ahsoka emphasized.
"Understood," Reesa said.
Ahsoka looked at each face around the room.
"Here's the plan," she said. "The clone will continue wearing the restraining collar. The automatic proximity function will restrict his movements and prevent his escape. He'll be housed in this building as Waunado suggested."
She looked at each member, then asked, "Any questions?"
"Commander," Kip said, "how long will the clone be … ah … how long until he's not here?"
Ahsoka let out a sigh. "I don't know, Kip. We'll cross that bridge when we come to it."