DESTINY - CHAPTER 05

Ahsoka kept busy throughout the day checking up on her crew's preparations to find and secure medical supplies for the settlers on Gwedonan. She also walked the camp, chatting with other clan members and catching up on the more mundane matters of living in a community of rag-tag refugees, wanderers and vagabonds who'd come together to help those less fortunate.

Even though she tried to keep her mind occupied, she couldn't stop her thoughts from returning to her predicament with the clone.

Her deep-rooted anger at his kind still insinuated itself into her thoughts when she wasn't vigilant about keeping it under control. When her anger did surface, it was followed immediately by a flood of guilt.

She'd been a Jedi, a being of order and compassion and justice. Imprisoning another for nothing more than the makeup of his DNA went against everything she believed. Shame covered her like a dark shroud.

But she had no other choice. She needed to protect her clan and to do that, the clone couldn't be allowed to leave. She just needed to deal with the situation and believe things would eventually work out. If only her trust in the Force wasn't so tenuous, this whole affair would be a lot easier.

Later that evening Ahsoka sat in the communal dining building, picking at the food on her dinner plate, but uninterested in eating. Other clan members around her were busy chatting over their meal, laughing and recounting the day. Periodically Ahsoka would glance up and smile or nod. But her mind was a million light-years away — worried about what came next with the clone.

She was staring at her plate when someone cleared their throat beside her. Ahsoka jerked her eyes up in surprise to find Waunado peering at her. She corralled her racing thoughts and turned to face the Ugnaught.

Though Ahsoka was sitting and he was standing, their eyes were level. She smiled at him, genuinely pleased to speak with him. Given Waunado's formal mannerisms with her, not many knew that he was one of Ahsoka's oldest and dearest friends.

"Good evening, Waunado."

"Commander," Waunado replied.

"Is there something you need?"

"There is nothing from you that I require at this time."

"Ummm … I see," Ahsoka said. "Is there something else, then?"

"Yes."

Ahsoka waited for him to continue, then remembered it was Waunado she was talking to. She mustered her patience and said, "Please tell me what you've come to see me about."

"It is about Rex."

"Rex?"

"That is the clone's name," Waunado said, with the characteristic seriousness of his race.

Ahsoka sighed. "So I've already been informed."

Waunado stood silently waiting for Ahsoka to parse out what he needed. She knew better than to get into a staring match with a Ugnaught.

"Is there something I need to do?" she asked.

"Yes."

"And what is that?"

"Rex should be provided with food." Waunado said. "This is so. I have spoken."

Ahsoka's shoulders slumped and her head fell back. She stared up at the ceiling, mortified. She hadn't thought about the logistics of feeding the clone. She had no intentions of killing him, or torturing him, or even boring him to death. But if not for Waunado, she might have accidentally starved him to death. This whole debacle was getting more complicated at every turn.

She thought about having Waunado take food back to the clone. But he'd been working hard all day, not only making the storage shed habitable for the clone, but also working on the ship's hyperdrive coolant system. He'd probably come to the dining hut to eat and she wouldn't keep him from his well-deserved rest and evening meal.

The clone was her responsibility. She needed to assume most of the burden of his captivity.

"You're right, Waunado," Ahsoka said. "Thank you for reminding me. I'll take a meal to him."

Seemingly satisfied Waunado nodded, then turned and made his way to the serving area.

Ahsoka followed Waunado to the food table and filled a plate with various meats, vegetables and breads. Axalon was a temperate moon teaming with vegetation and animal life. Food was plentiful and the clan ate well.

Ahsoka looked down at the plate full of food thinking the clone probably hadn't had a meal this good in a long time.

Rex sat at the small meeting table inside the storage building. He stared at his hands, steeped in the irony that he'd helped setup his own prison.

He'd spent the morning and early afternoon helping Waunado clear the storage room in the back, and then setup a cot and a portable heater. He'd even helped the Ugnaught install a portable 'fresher in a corner inside the large building. As bizarre as the situation was, he'd enjoyed the Ugnaught's company. Waunado, though gruff and blunt, had seemed to take a liking to Rex as well.

When they'd finished, he'd helped Waunado pack up tools and supplies that were needed for work on their ship's hyperdrive. Waunado had left for the rest of the day and Rex had been stuck in the storage building with only himself for company.

He'd taken the time to strip out of his ripe smelling armor and blacks and shower in the 'fresher. He'd washed his blacks and pulled them back on, as they'd been engineered to dry quickly, even while being worn.

Then he set to work cleaning his lower armor with rags he'd scrounged from one of the work benches. When the pieces were finished he put them on and began to work on his upper armor.

After his upper armor was clean to his satisfaction he'd sat down with a ragged deck of Sabacc cards he'd found in a corner of one of the storage shelves. Rex spent the rest of the afternoon playing several different Sabacc solitaire games that General Skywalker had taught him during a mission where they'd spent a week in hyperspace.

Several hours had passed and by the time Waunado returned, the light streaming through the building's skylights had dimmed into early evening.

That was when Rex's stomach had growled so loud it had startled them both. Waunado had expressed his displeasure that no one had brought Rex anything to eat. He'd given Rex a solemn vow that he would not rest until Rex had a meal.

His stomach growled again and Rex hoped food would arrive soon. With Waunado on the mission, he was sure someone would eventually show up.

The soft swish of the sliding door mechanism caught Rex's attention and he looked up. For an instant he thought his eyes had deceived him. But as the person crossed the space toward him it was clear that it was, indeed, the commander.

Rex watched her closely as she approached. She wore no cloak this evening and he realized she was shorter than he'd thought. Her blue, short-sleeved jumpsuit fit snugly, revealing feminine curves and a fit body. Her leather head band, wrist bracers and boots were simple and rugged, reminding him that she was tougher than she looked and those who underestimated her did so at their own peril.

She was poised, her movements graceful and fluid, attesting to someone in complete control of a body that was as much a weapon as a work of art. She reminded Rex of the many Jedi he had served with in the GAR. Not for the first time since he'd felt her unnaturally powerful kick to his chest, he wondered about the origins of this mysterious Force user.

As the commander came closer a spicy aroma caused his stomach to let out the loudest growl yet. His attention immediately moved from her lithe form to the plate of food in her hands.

The commander stopped next to the table and cocked her head to the side. "It sounds like this is overdue," she said, glancing at his stomach as she sat the plate down.

Not exactly an apology, Rex thought, but not exactly not an apology. He'd take what he could get.

As he considered her non-apology it occurred to him that she hadn't called him clone. Rex thought back to the morning meeting when she'd told him he would remain her prisoner and realized she hadn't used the slur then, either. Another curious change in her behavior.

Rex rose, his mouth salivating so much he had to swallow before he could reply. "Better late than never," he said.

She stood in silence, her gaze inscrutable.

Rex stared back at her, unsure what to do next.

"Well …," she said, inclining her head toward the food.

Rex quickly sat and pulled the plate to him. He grabbed the utensil and started shoveling food into his mouth like a starving gundark. After a moment he realized the commander was still watching him.

He fought a momentary surge of embarrassment at his behavior. Then he remembered she was holding him prisoner and had neglected to feed him all day. He had nothing to be embarrassed about. If he was eating like he was back in the barracks, so what.

Then an interesting thought came to him. The commander was still there. And she was probably planning on staying until he finished so she could return the plate. This might be a good time to initiate some clandestine interrogation. If he could engage her in conversation she might reveal information that could eventually aid in his escape. Often during small talk people let useful details slip.

Rex put the utensil down, finished chewing and swallowed. He gave her a contrite look and said, "I apologize for my manners."

She rolled her eyes. "This isn't exactly a social situation."

"Still, that's no excuse." He gestured to the chair across the table. "Please, have a seat."

One white brow rose in skepticism. She hesitated for a moment, then pulled out the chair and sat.

Rex resumed eating with more restraint.

"So," he said as he swallowed, "like I said last night, my name is Rex."

The commander snorted. "Both T'annon and Waunado have made sure I am aware."

Rex smiled, then said, "What's your name."

"My name isn't important," she said.

"I disagree," Rex said, trying to sound as civilized as possible. "If we're going to be interacting with each other for the indefinite future, referring to each other by name makes things much simpler."

The commander leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms over her chest. "Eat your food," she said.

Rex took another mouthful and chewed while considering another tact.

"You have an interesting community here. Are you settlers, or traders or refugees?" he asked.

The commander glowered back, remaining silent.

Rex continued to eat, taking time to consider yet another strategy to get the commander talking, since his efforts so far had been a bust. As he watched her between mouthfuls he saw her eyes dart more than once to the beat-up deck of Sabacc cards sitting on the corner of the table.

An idea came to him.

"You know, being stuck in here is pretty boring," Rex said. "It might even constitute 'cruel and unusual punishment'."

"Oh, please," she drawled. "This isn't a resort."

"Understood," Rex said. "But maybe a little friendly competition might help pass the time." He nodded toward the Sabacc deck. "Care for a game?"

The commander glanced at the deck again, then gave Rex a flat look. "Eat your food."

"Oh, I see how it is," Rex chided. "That's okay. I wouldn't want to embarrass you."

She huffed out a breath. "In your dreams."

"Big talk," he said. "Care to put your credits where your mouth is?"

"You don't have any credits, so it's a moot point," she said with a smug smile.

She might think she'd won the argument, but Rex had her exactly where he wanted her. He'd been right about her competitive nature. This was a chink in her stoic armor, his opportunity to get her talking and maybe find out information that would help him escape.

Rex narrowed his eyes and let his lips curve up into a challenging smile. "It's not about the credits," he said, "it's about the skill."

Rex stepped over to one of the work benches and grabbed a small metal container full of different sized nuts, bolts and washers. He came back and dumped the can onto the table.

The commander watched him closely. He could tell she was intrigued.

After a few seconds Rex had separated the contents into two equal piles. He pushed one pile toward the commander and pulled the other to himself.

"Nuts are lowest value, washers are medium and bolts are highest."

He pinned her with a challenging look and could practically see the struggle inside her playing out on her face. The logical commander was probably screaming that this was a bad idea and that she should just ignore him and leave, while her competitive nature refused to back down from his challenge.

Rex could tell she was almost there. She just needed a little push to get her over the edge.

"Corellian rules," he said. "That is, if it's not too difficult."

The commander's warring features settled into a scowl and Rex knew he had her. He reached for the Sabacc deck, but her hand shot out faster than a blaster bolt and snatched the deck away.

"I'll deal," she growled.