Chapter One: Pursuit
Shepard cut thrusters as the ship settled into orbit around Jakku. She released a tired sigh as she turned from the controls. In the months since the rise of the Empire, she and Vod had been searching. Searching for Rex and Ahsoka, searching for the Geth that were still unaccounted for, and by a twist of fate, Kix.
Chance and happenstance set them on the trail after a lead from a Broker Agent sent her and Vod to Serreno, where they found Count Dooku's apparent base of operations. The hope was to find information on exactly what the Separatists, and by extension Palpatine, had been hiding Reaper tech. While Shepard searched his desk for a data tape only finding a holodisk of a long haired, bearded Jedi she didn't recognize, Vod dumped the terminal. Although they came up empty handed regarding both the Reapers and Geth, what they found instead was far more valuable.
The recording of Kix's interrogation by a Command Droid was short, but revealing. Gone was his unique, if ostentatious haircut, which was replaced with the regulation high-and-tight worn by the majority of shinies she had met. He was visibly exhausted, having likely endured hours, if not days, of torture and interrogation. The questions were simple and to the point: Who had he told about the inhibitor chips? As he repeated his denial, she realized that the change in his appearance was likely hiding the tell tale scar of the chip removal. Despite her failure to convince Rex, despite failure to save Fives, she had planted the right questions in his mind to encourage him to look deeper and in doing so, had freed himself from the grip of the Emperor. Unfortunately, it seemed his efforts, like hers, like Fives' were too little too late. His actions, discrete as she knew they had been, hadn't gone unnoticed. At the end of the recording, Dooku ordered him delivered to Serreno for further questioning, but the ship never arrived.
In an ironic twist, the ship carrying him in statis, Obrexta III was ambushed by Republic forces as it tried to jump to hyperspace. The last transmission indicated a random jump point was selected to avoid capture. No further transmissions were received, which led them to the logical conclusion that the ship had crashed somewhere along the way. As much as she longed to find Rex and Ahsoka, to find the Geth and stamp out any brewing Reaper tech, finding Kix became her sole priority.
They systematically searched, following the projected route based on the final transmission. Scanning system by system in a methodical pattern though without success the repeated failures were taking its toll. She was exhausted, both physically and emotionally from the fruitless search. The credit chit was running on fumes, as was the ship. Her stock of rations was growing thin and numerous run-ins with the Empire and other nefarious types left the ship and her armor damaged. Nevertheless, she persisted and refused to give up on finding him so long as she drew breath.
"Okay, Vod," she said, deliberately ignoring the low fuel warning that flashed on the console. "Open long range scanners and see what we can find."
"Shepard Captain…" Vod started.
"I'm going to try Kix's frequency to see if there are any returns," she turned to the comm station.
"Shepard Captain…" they tried again, "We are compelled to remind you the probability of finding the ship-"
"Don't tell me the odds," she leveled her tone. "We have to find him."
"This search has nearly exhausted our supplies and credits. By our calculation, if we depart for our sector, we will barely have enough fuel to make the journey back to the Perseus Veil. We cannot rescue Kix Medic if we are nonfunctional."
"I can't…fail him too, Vod," her voice wavered.
They were out of their depth and had been since the beginning. It was why she failed Fives, it was why she failed to stop Palpatine, and it was why, after months of searching, she was no closer to locating either Rex or Kix than she was to preventing the whole mess to begin with. The weight of her failures had settled across her shoulders with every occupied system they entered and threatened to break her normally unflappable resolve. As Vod's faceplates shifted in what quickly became an uncomfortable silence, a proximity alarm trilled. Shepard turned from the comm station just as the Normandy dropped from FTL and coasted alongside their port side. Her head shifted slowly to them, though their focus remained on the control panel. Between them, the comm chirped with an incoming call.
"Vod…"
"We are being hailed," their hand shifted, but her tone gave pause.
"Vod, how did the Normandy find us?"
"Because we contacted them without your knowledge."
Her jaw set as she punched the flashing button to open the link.
"Civilian craft Hag's Nest, this is SSV Normandy, do you copy?" Joker casually called over the comm.
Shepard released a stiff, tense sigh and answered, "SSV Normandy, this is Hag's Nest, we copy. Vega, the fuck you doing out here?"
"I was planning to ask you the same thing, Lola. The docking bay is prepped for your ship. Pull her in any time."
"I don't recall asking for a pickup," she tried to keep her tone light, but there was an unmistakable bite to the words that didn't go unnoticed, prompting a long moment of dead air before receiving a reply.
"We know you're running on fumes and that your supplies are gone. This isn't the time for a bluff."
"I'm not done out here. We're looking for-"
"I know who you're looking for," he snapped but paused to collect his thoughts, knowing the conversation was going to be committed to record. "I know the loss was hard on you, but wasting your time on a wild goose chase isn't going to help-"
"Kix is out there," she cut him off. "He listened to me and looked into the inhibitor chips. Dooku intervened before he could tell the Jedi and took him hostage. The ship was lost. I'm going to find it."
"You don't even know if he's alive."
Before Shepard could reply, the scanner trilled rapidly and Vod assessed the alert, "Shepard Captain, we have detected a weak signal from a nearby planet. The signature matches Separatists' distress beacons.
"Where is it?"
"Ponemah Terminal."
"Set course," she turned back to the comm. "Can't talk, Vega. Gotta go."
"Dock in the Normandy, Shepard. We'll get you there faster and save you the fuel."
She deliberated for a moment, unsure if there was going to be a catch or not, but the urgency of the moment overrode all else, so she seized the opportunity, "Standby, Normandy. Hag's Nest is on approach."
"We're ready for you, Lola."
"Thanks, James," she cut the comm.
After pulling away and angling the ship on the right trajectory, her ship glided past the kinetic barrier. As promised, the center of the hangar was cleared and ready to receive them. Cortez stood by at the control panel, ready to close the ramp and secure the ship. Once they were inside, before she had even finished cycling down the engines, the Normandy was pulling out of orbit and preparing for FTL for her destination. Quickly donning her kit, feeling hopeful for the first
He released a held breath as the patrol marched down the corridor, extracting himself from the corner he ducked behind, despite the armor he wore in disguise. It was nearly identical to the kit he had worn his entire adult life, yet it felt so foreign. Something about it was oppressive and false. The edges of the plates dug into his skin through his body glove, the cuirasse sat unevenly on his chest, the shoulder bells wobbled as he walked. Although the load was lighter than Clone armor, it also likely meant it provided less protection.
"Junk armor," Rex muttered to himself as he continued down the hall once the coast was clear, forcing himself to maintain a steady stride through the annoyance of the kit.
"Stop complaining," Trace adjusted the choking collar of her drab greenish-gray officer's uniform. "At least you don't have to wear this monstrosity."
He chuckled lightly and they entered the corridor, R7 rolling behind them as they searched for an access point to the station. Upon finding the correct door, Rex entered the security card they had received from a contact and scanned for watchful eyes, waving them in before entering himself. The spunky astromech immediately wheeled to a port and plugged in. Rex doffed the helmet and rested a hand on his hip. Trace went to work as well, inserting a data tape in another station.
"Any luck, R7?" He asked, feeling antsy at the droid's silence, more so when the domed head shook a negative. "Keep trying, Gregor said some Gen-1's were sent to other training facilities."
With an affirmative chirp, the droid resumed searching.
"I've got the supply schedule," Trace stated, pulling the data tape and tucking it into her pocket, "We can't stay much longer. They'll know we were here."
"We can't leave until we find Wolffe," he whispered, shifting his feet anxiously.
Suddenly, the droid chattered with excitement, bringing up a transfer order. Rex scanned the screen, confirming that Wolffe had been routed to Lothal to oversee training. The droid moved to unplug, but Rex stopped him, knowing it was his last chance to find out the truth.
"R7, can you access the security records on Kamino?" Upon receiving an affirmative, he continued with his query. "I need you to search for someone: Captain Jean Shepard. She was stationed on Kamino before the purge. I need to find where she was sent."
"Captain, we don't have time for this," Trace insisted.
"I have to find her," he muttered, clinging to the last threads of hope, despite months of silence and dead ends.
Trace relented as the plug turned in the socket. The moments ticked, being counted by the creak of Rex's boots as it nervously tapped in the polished duracrete floor, until finally the droid warbled sadly, making his gut sink. It was a possibility he hadn't wanted to concede, that he had denied as long as he could. But in the face of an official report from Sargeant Grin on the screen before him, signed off with the file closed by Admiral Tarkin himself, he had to accept the truth.
"Display the security footage, please," he quietly requested.
A small holoprojector glowed on the console, displaying the recording of the events. Shepard stood on a platform in the torrent, turning to face the approaching officer. She was visibly exhausted as, he assumed, she was trying to reason with him as evident by her gestures. The two were locked in a brief standoff, until Grin raised his blaster and fired, leaving her sprawled and vulnerable in her back. Rex watched in horror as his brother walked up to the woman he loved, his betrothed, leveled the blaster at her helmeted face, and fired.
His shoulders slumped, his eyes burned, and his fists clenched as the hologram faded and the projector darkened. It was all his fault. He should have trusted her but in the confusing aftermath of Fives' death, but at the time he wasn't strong enough to accept the truth she was trying to tell him. And despite everything, he knew deep down she hadn't given up and was still fighting to stop what was set to come. Rex's eyes burned with anger and regret at Sargeant Grin, at the Emperor, but mostly at himself.
Trace placed a hand on his shoulder coaxing him back to the present, "We have to go."
"Yeah, let's get moving," he bristled and donned the helmet once more, for once thankful for the vision impairing bucket.
They easily made their exit to the hangar, where Rafa was waiting in their borrowed shuttle. Once they were safely in hyperspace, Rex began shucked the TK-Trooper armor at the back of the shuttle, wishing he could throw it out the airlock. As he donned his kit, the weight and feel of each molded piece he put in place gave him a measure of comfort against the pain in his chest. Tentative hands picked up his helmet, studying the exterior for a moment before turning it over. Sitting on the bench, he stared into his bucket at the flimsy picture that had been safely tucked inside.
A shuddering breath escaped his chest as the tingle in his eyes intensified. He didn't want to fall apart there, mere meters from the Martez sisters, but it was quickly becoming more than he could hold back. Clenching his jaw and squeezing his eyes, he pinched the bridge of his nose and tilted his head back. As he fought back the onslaught of grief, their final conversation played through his mind, if he could even call it a conversation. That day, that wretched day, he balled up all the rage and pain tearing him apart in the chaotic wake of Fives' death and threw it in Shepard's face, as though it had all been her fault.
What of my duty to the Republic? To my brothers! I am not a broken coward! I would never run away from my duty! I will not abandon my service, my family or my home, like you!
He winced at the memory, opening his eyes. On the periphery, he saw a gray figure hesitating next to him. Quickly wiping his glassy eyes, he looked over at Trace, who slowly sat on the bench next to him. A supportive hand rested on his shoulder, leaning into him slightly for comfort. His head dipped toward hers, grateful for her presence.
"I'm sorry," she said quietly.
"She died fighting for what she believed in, as any good soldier does," he replied in a whisper. "It's up to us to continue the fight."
The words were ones he had spoken for hundreds of brothers before. An epitaph to rationalize the nature of their lives, their servitude to the galaxy. Somehow the words suddenly felt hollow, meaningless. Perhaps they had simply been a delusion to justify his place of leadership in the systemic oppression and dehumanization of himself and his brothers. Even if the words of the Jedi failed to strike a chord, surely his would among his battalion, inspiring them to willingly, if blindly, run down the chutes to their slaughter like livestock.
It suddenly occurred to him that the words themselves, words he had chosen after seeing so many fall during the Battle of Geonosis, were an irony. A chuckle slowly huffed in his chest as he realized he called on his brothers to continue the fight, not finish it. Perhaps part of him knew deep down theirs was a disposable existence, even before the war began. Those who saw the war begin weren't intended to see it end, much less a Republic victory, despite all they had been conditioned to believe. And Shepard, his beloved Jean, was caught in the crossfire trying to stop it.
