A MESSED UP DESTINY
A STAR WARS STORY
Chapter 47
Disclaimer: Disney owns everything and I make no profit from this.
Hello there everyone and welcome to chapter 47 of the story! Beginning shortly after we last left off, Anakin, Obi Wan and Master Plo Koon have been sent to Felucia along with their respective legions to evacuate the troopers there, who are being wiped out by Separatist Forces under General Grievous' personal command. Admittedly this chapter is a lot more one of reflection than anything else, dealing with a side of the Clone Wars we don't see very often. I did my best to write it in a way that makes you think, hence why I took time to make sure it was how I wanted it to be.
[Obligatory note: My apologies for the numerous delays on this chapter's release. I have four separate versions in my drafts, since I wasn't sure exactly which aspects I should focus on for this one. It's here now, and I've settled on bringing the reality of War to the light. Hope I do this topic justice, because I know it's much heavier than other things regarding the CW show, or Star Wars as a whole.]
Warning: This chapter deals with heavy topics relating to War as a whole. If that makes you uncomfortable, it is entirely possible to skip this one, as understanding what comes after doesn't require reading this one.
So…without further ado…let's dive right into chapter 47!
With Rex and Cody finally going on the frontlines with their chips removed and lives on the line on the planet of Felucia, the vicious General Grievous spearheads an operation against Republic Forces and it falls to the Jedi to help. War always comes at a great cost, but are the lives of Clones really something the GAR is willing to pay, even in the name of victory?
Felucia, Republic LZ, Rex's point of view:
War is Hell. That's what every man, woman and child in the Galaxy knew. The Clones Wars had always been different in a way, but they were still Wars. For me -while standing on the Republic's Landing Zone that the General had so generously cleared of Clankers with some of his lightning- that phrase meant nothing. It meant nothing to any Vod, because that wasn't the half of it.
As Clones, we'd been trained to fight since almost before we could kriffing talk by the Kaminoans –Longnecks, we called them-, but I could remember my first battle as if it was yesterday. Ask anyone, they all remember Geonosis. My first day as a member of the 501rst, as its Captain and leader, was nothing like the simulations on Kamino.
No amount of training exercises could have ever prepared us for the hot, chaotic, sandy mess that was Geonosis. Part of me is still amazed every time I think back to it, about how we had to crawl onto the sands just to keep our heads from being blasted off, about how the sand would have wrecked our eyes if we hadn't been wearing our helmets. War might be Hell, but Geonosis was much worse. Sometimes I think the rest of the War would have been the same, if not for Anakin Skywalker.
Truly, the man that had once been an eccentric –if not downright weird- Jedi had become a close friend over the past year and a half. He was always polite with me, never directly giving orders outside of a battlefield, and in those early days where Fett would pester me about individuality he'd defend me. But the first time I'd actually understood what he'd been trying to show me was right before the Battle of Jabiim.
Four months into the War, things were going well. Great, even! With General Skywalker's leadership we'd sustained less than a hundred losses in three months, by far the lowest number out of all other Legions, the 212th being the next ones on the list, just over the hundred-man mark. I remember the General had always been treating us differently than how any of us had expected, especially me. He treated me like a friend, always had.
Looking back, Skywalker had made the War…almost fun, cracking jokes with Kenobi and quipping every time the Clankers got blasted to bits. But right before that battle, he'd taught me an important lesson. Sometimes I'd find myself doubting whether he knew what had happened that day, but then when I'd see him next he'd look at me with that dung-eating grin like he was laughing at an inside joke, and I'd understand just how well aware of his actions he was.
Anakin Skywalker had taught me that War –while still Hell- was so much more than just that. It was mystery every time we jumped into light speed for a mission, facing down the unknown. It was thrilling, adrenaline rushing through our veins as we blasted Clankers to bits and hacked them apart. It was adventure, one that the General would make for us every step of the way…and on that day, looking out from the Bridge as the Resolute was jumping into Hyperspace…it was peaceful.
There was something peaceful about War, and ever since that day I've been seeing it everywhere. Those endless moments that don't have a begging, that never finish. They're just there, thousands of them, all of them as peaceful as the last. And it was soothing in a way. It made things seem worth it, somehow. I wasn't quite sure why, but the fight was worth it every time one of those moments came to mind.
"Am I not wise for telling you?", a voice breathed behind me. Ignoring the way I flinched, the General stood next to me, gazing at Vode as they went about setting up an extraction zone.
I nodded an affirmative at him. "Can't say you aren't.", I quipped, slightly grinning from beneath my helmet. Ever since the Chip had been taken out of my head, it was so much easier to just…be. To think.
The General laughed, in a way I'd rarely heard. It was a soft, fond laugh. He was happy, though for what I couldn't tell. All around us brothers were preparing to save whoever was left alive on Felucia, ready to go to War and to bleed and die, but right here, my friend laughed. Another moment to add to the list.
Skywalker shook his head, metallic fingers twitching for a moment, as if he was holding a lightsaber. Absentmindedly his other hand made a tiny chocking motion, but he snapped out of the trance barely a moment later. What he had remembered was none of my business, not as his subordinate. But it was my duty as his friend to at least ask.
Hesitantly I glanced at him, letting the General compose himself before speaking. "Sir? Is there something wrong?", I ask, and Skywalker laughs again. It's not the same as before. Still soft, but the hurt behind that gesture of joy is one I've seen in countless Vod, even myself.
"I'm just glad you're free Rex.", he replies, hand awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. This wasn't a nervous tick, he'd never done it before. He was somewhat uncomfortable, I could tell from his body language. Had talk about the Inhibitor Chips set him off? Not quite clear. Maybe I'd ask General Kenobi when he came back from the jungles, or Ahsoka. They ought to know more.
Meanwhile, Anakin's point of view:
"I'm just glad you're free Rex.", I replied, trying to resist the urge to rub the back of my neck, to feel the spot where I myself once had a chip implanted. The Jedi had removed it barely a week after I'd been taken in as Obi Wan's Padawan, but talking about the Inhibitor Chips always gave me the feeling that mine was still there.
Tatooine was something I'd rarely talked about with anyone, in either of my lives. Ahsoka had never known about my past, only learning that I had been a slave from Obi Wan. I hadn't wanted her to think less of me. With Rex, it never came up. I had no reason to tell him. Even Obi Wan hadn't known the full extend, that even now if I looked deep in my mind, beneath all my memories and through the pain the Emperor had once inflicted on me, I'd find a greater one. I'd find the life of a slave with everything that carries.
Sidious had been a worse Master than Watto. That was certain. Part of me thinks that even Jabba would have been preferable. At least then I wouldn't be torturing others as part of my own suffering. Then again, the Jedi had also been jailers in some way, but they hadn't meant it. It had been done not out of cruelty but ignorance, indifference and arrogance. Hypocrisy and hubris that had eventually destroyed them were the causes of my troubles in the Order before…everything. Now, it was those same traits I had to tear down in order to save them, and yet…part of me still felt like I was jailed.
Locked in an endless standstill with the Master of the Sith, fighting in a War of the Emperor's design. Beating him at his own game was satisfying yes, but no matter how many battles you win, it's all about winning the War itself. And when another of those endless moments of peace, those collections of memories that had made things worth it for so long now, ended, all I could feel was the fear, the pain, the death of those I was meant to be protecting.
But I also felt their hopes. Some Clones had heard the Republic Gunships above as we made landfall, some others had managed to hide from the Separatists, from Grievous' wrath. Obi Wan and Master Plo had taken their Legions out to find them, and I was tasked with the most important mission of securing our escape. Keeping this landing zone clear was mission critical, and despite being angry with such tasks in another life, the strategist inside me knew that the Jedi were right here. So I did as I was told.
The Clones did the same, really. 'Good soldiers follow orders'. That motto had been drilled inside their heads for as long as pain has been stuck in mine, and now was the first time I was able to properly reflect on it. No longer blinded by the poison Sidious had placed in Vader's mind and with a momentary respite from endless battles, it was here that I finally had a moment to think, and shed a tear of respect for the Clones, who were in essence my fellow slaves.
Slaves of War, all of them pawns in Sidious' game. That's why I'd never taken a single chance with the 501rst. From day one I'd treated them as people, the same way a kid version of me would have loved to be treated. As just…a person, not property. Seeing Rex so dull at the begging…it had made me sick. To see my vibrant and loyal friend be reduced from the man I knew to a near-unthinking droid, just another cog in the machine. It's why I'd shown him the Galaxy's true beauty that day before Jabiim. I had shown him there was more to War than suffering and death, because I had to believe that. If there wasn't…then our efforts were for naught. And that was unacceptable.
Lost in thought as I was, I never saw the light of Felucia's sun be reflected off something metallic on a nearby ridge, never heard the blaster round that came right at me. A shot rang out in the air, but I was deaf to it. Someone screamed, and in a moment, I snapped back to reality. Before the sniper had time to even blink, they were dead. Scrapped like the piece of useless metal that Commando Droid was. And at my feet lay a single Clone, no, a single Vod.
As Rex took initiative to send men out and scout the area for other threats I raised a Force Shield around myself and the trooper, then knelt on the ground beside him. His armor was shinny and new, just like him. No paint, just blood from where he'd been shot, right to the heart.
Using the Force to slow the bleeding in hopes that he'd make it, I spoke to him, not wanting him to go out in silence. "Trooper. What's your name?", I asked in a whisper, not wanting to disorient him with any loud sounds. From experience, that bolt was still ringing in his ears.
"Stickler, sir.", he breathed, voice barely escaping his helmet. "Boys call me that cause I don't break the rules.", he crocked out. I tore off part of my robes, trying to close the wound.
"Thank you. You saved me.", I told him in honest gratitude. It was the least I could do, and much less than any of the Clones deserved. But what else could be done?
Stickler coughed, blood spilling out from his helmet. I slowly took it off, saw his face. No different from Rex's, Appo's or the million others out there, and yet not identical either. "Sir…been with you for a few months, but you…you always saved us. Rules say I got to pay you back.", he managed, dozens of voices shouting calling signs and yelling for a medic. There were no more snipers, Commandos were wiped out already. No more dead.
Coric was coming, along with Kix. He'd been a good man, still was. Just more shinny than I'd last seen him. "Don't worry, help is on the way.", I said to Stickler, softly. Consoling people wasn't what I was good at, but I understood pain all too well. So I tried my best.
Stickler's eyes began to roll back, I forced myself to focus. Force Healing was something I'd done a hundred times before, so I did it here. …but it didn't work. It was too late. "Glad I got to…pay you back. It-It's the rules…", he breathed, and then Sticklers body went limp, the light fading from his eyes. A smile had tried to break out on his face, but never got the chance. He was dead, my powers useless.
He'd given his life for mine. His blood was on my hands. Grievous could slaughter a million Vode, Stickler's blood wouldn't be on him. Never. Because I should have seen it. He shouldn't be dead. He'd made it this far, why fall now? And yet…on the ground he was. Just another corpse atop the pile.
Coric came running, checking for a pulse, to find none. Stickler's heart had stopped, the Force's light fading at last. You couldn't tell he'd ever been shot, but there he was. Dead. Like all the others. Those I couldn't save. Those I can't save, not even now. Those I killed.
And as Appo and Fives came to take the body away, I felt myself raise a hand to stop them. They left and I could sense Rex's eyes gazing into my soul. This one is on me. He didn't say that, didn't even think it. But I knew it to be true. Because Stickler had been right there. Next to me. Walking or standing or toying with his blaster one moment, dead the next. Why? Why was he dead?
It should have been me. That shot was meant for me. Back on Tatooine before Mom and I were sold to Watto, those lashes were meant for me. She took them anyways. As a Padawan, Obi Wan had been reprimanded by the Council, because I was acting up. That scolding was for me. He took it anyways. In the Clone Wars, it had been my job to keep the men from dying. Every clank of their blasters falling to the floor had taken that from me. And Sidious, he knew that hopes for a Galaxy without War were my biggest dream back then. He'd stolen that dream, made me condemn the Galaxy to however many years of Rebellion and death. Now…I should be dead. But I'm not. Why not me?
"Sir? Are you alright?" It was the voice of Fives, Echo at his side. Best friends those two, always had been. Hevy, their batch mate, had died on Rishi. Well…before I saved him. As I'd saved others. Countless others.
I nodded to them, eyes darting around to find Rex. Coric and Droidbait finally took Stickler away, and I found him next to Ahsoka, who was trying not to stare at me. I couldn't blame her. After failing like this, I wouldn't want to see me either. Rex quickly waved her off as I took a deep breath or two, to clear my head.
Ahsoka hesitated, but walked away. I went to stand beside Rex. A moment passed, then another. Conversations around us had resumed, business as usual. Just another body in the pile. There's been thousands, what's one more? Despite that, standing next to Rex now gave me a flash, of talking to him before. He'd quipped at me, I could see his grin behind the helmet's visor.
Taking another breath, one more mechanical, more reminiscent of a part of my life I'd rather forget, I sighed. It was true what they said. War was Hell.
"You weren't wrong.", Rex said to me, almost insisting. His half-hesitant tone wasn't out of fear of me as his superior, but out of a friend's concern. Much different than…well.
I didn't laugh this time, not the time or place to do so. "It's on me.", I argued, knowing what he was about to say. Same thing I'd overheard Obi Wan say to his men sometimes, same thing I'd say to mine.
"It's not. Never has been, never will be.", Rex countered. I didn't have the energy to fight this battle.
Letting out another sigh, I couldn't help but agree. It wasn't my fault really. Any Vod could have been in my place, or that's what I'd say if Stickler hadn't specified. "He said there was a rule.", I breathed to Rex, not needing to even ask.
He nodded slowly, expression darkening. "I think you've saved about as many Clones as you have scrapped clankers sir. 501rst has three rules. Never leave a man behind. Have each other's back. And save who you can. Your rules, ones we chose to follow. Or am I wrong?", Rex challenged. Against my will, I saw his point.
"Stickler was following the rules. Said he wanted to pay me back. I would have been fine, or dead. But he shouldn't have died.", I said in a voice devoid of emotions. Heavy, regulated breathing echoed around me, almost deafening.
Rex shrugged, as if indifferent. "War is Hell sir. But I it's the moments that make fighting worth it. A very wise man taught me that.", he quipped, and I couldn't help but crack a smile, remembering Stickler's own grin. I'd keep it going, fighting the good fight. Every Vod did, I was no different. I'd save his brothers, like he saved me.
Ahsoka must have seen my smile, because she skipped over, though her usual excitement was gone, the pep in her step swept away by the soundwave of a blaster bolt. She'd thought it hit me, I could feel her relief now. So I gave her a hug, told her I was fine, sensed myself start to believe it. Endless moments like this one, the exchange of emotions and encouragement, relief and happiness through our bond, they made our fights worth it.
So our trio moved to the supply crates, snacked on a few rations. Rex and I talked mostly about the good times, recounting some of our earliest misadventures to Ahsoka, who was all too excited to hear them. Stickler's body was inside the medical tent, being tended to by Coric. Kix was at his, taking meticulous notes. It was anyone's guess as to why, but a certain few knew he was interested by the Force, how it was almost healed his brother.
Obi Wan returned with the 212th -about a platoon's worth of survivors in toe- as dawn broke, Master Koon and the Wolfpack with the rest of them in toe. Rex helped them settle in, my brother explained that they'd gotten caught up in the usual trouble. Apparently Grievous had been all too focused on Obi Wan's lightsaber –which he was teased relentlessly about by a certain bearded Jedi-, redirecting his forces to them once he figured out where he was.
Standard checks were made, survivors were questioned, and a few came forward with cases of missing squad mates. Retrieval groups were sent out, and the Wolfpack's liquidation of a nearby CIS Supply Center helped them stay under the radar. No man gets left behind after all, not when the 501rst is here. That was the rule.
And in the dead of the night, Stickler's body went missing. Coric was stumped as to the how or the why, but a small grave was found right on the ridge the sniper had been roosting at. It had been dug by hand, the Commando Droid's parts serving to adorn it with a metal outlining, and on the gravestone made of its torso was engraved 'Here lies Stickler, a good man'. Not a word about him being a Clone, a slave. No sound about the War. Those things didn't matter in the end. But his character did, and so it would become his legacy to those who would remember him.
On the ground, a small stone circle surrounding the grave, all glowing a soft white, emitting a familiar kind of warmth. The Force would guide him wherever he was now, in its Netherworld. The man paying his respects here had ensured that. Obi Wan stood beside me as Rex and Cody both gave a respectful nod to their fallen brother, the former's hand ending up on my shoulder in a sense of gratitude. Later I'd ask him why, and he'd say that I'd given him the best moment yet.
And there you have it everyone, chapter 47 of A Messed Up Destiny! Now, before we move on, I feel like it needs to be said. Clone Wars did a magnificent job at tackling every aspect of a soldier's life during its run. But due to being a "Kid's show" there was a certain glass ceiling that was always present in my personal opinion.
In all honesty, I've recently began reading a fantastic book about the Vietnam War, which is what inspired me to change this chapter from a fun little adventure against Grievous to a few pages of reflection. If I am to be truthful, I prefer it this way. For me it shows that there is more to the Clone Wars than just blasting Clankers and Lightsaber Duels with Sith Lords. I hope this chapter was enjoyable for all of you.
Our regularly scheduled Clone Wars action will resume next chapter with the Zillo Beast incident and the can of worms it opens up, but after so much fast-paced action I felt these moments were needed.
There will be no epilogue here, as I want to leave this topic completely up to your interpretation. I'll see you all next time, but until then, May the Force be with you!