The rendezvous was now an hour away on foot. Rex made contact with Murrack and Grey, letting them know that no, he hadn't died, and yes he did expect to meet them at his ship, tapes in hand and undamaged.
Murrack seemed almost disappointed at receiving the news, but Grey was genuinely incredulous. Clearly they both had expected him not to make it.
Takes more than that to get rid of this crusty old clone.
Rex had to move, and move quickly. The lack of a vehicle was going to inhibit him greatly. The perimeter would be locked down soon. Rex's best chance was the undercity. There was sure to be a lift in the building that could take him down to the bottom floor.
Though the residential area had been cleared, auxiliary power was still on. Basic lifts and doors still functioned. Rex made his way to the nearest lift, using his HUD to read the internal schematics of the building. They weren't locked from view like a secure building would be. His HUD could pick up electric grids and give him a basic layout of most buildings based on that information alone.
There was a lift just at the end of the beautification platform north of his current position. It was a half a click away. Rex set out at a jog, his body complaining. He didn't know if it was his time spent idle, or his age that was getting to him, but he felt he didn't have the endurance he used to have. Rex studied the area, letting his HUD take in as much of the setting as possible. The IRT hadn't sent a shuttle down to inspect the scene of the crash. They must be busy clearing out the buildings that could hold snipers.
That would buy him some time. They would be looking for vehicles, for people in the upper city. Falling turned out to be a really convenient way to escape from their conspicuous position. Rex reached the lift and got inside. It plunged downwards at a far more comforting rate than a crashing speeder. He took a moment and lifted off his helmet to breathe.
Rex's head was sweaty, and itchy. His hair was plastered to his skull and he raked his fingers through it a few times. His beard was coming in, and it was itchy as well. He scratched at it furiously. He checked his armor for damage, but only found a few knicks and divots in the plasteel. His legs ached, but he focused on the pain.
The silence was disconcerting. He didn't want his mind to wander too far.
It had been a very long (he checked his HUD time read out) fourteen hours, and he wasn't done yet.
Yet still, even though he tried to focus his attention on what he would do once he reached the undercity, the lack of movement, danger, and the sudden silence left a void that was filled by a steady ache in his chest.
It was one that always returned, at any moment Rex gave it.
I miss you. I wish you were here.
The thoughts were trite, drivel, repetitive. But they were true. It was a song his heart beat to now. It didn't go away unless there was something louder to drown it out. As long as she was gone he was sure this ache would be there in her place. There was no recovering from it. You didn't just forget about someone who shared minds with you, who gave up everything for you, who hurt exactly the same way you did.
The lift began to slow. Rex put his helmet back on and let out a sigh. He double tapped his chest with his fist as if to anchor himself back into survival mode. She would want him to survive this. And so he would.
The journey through the undercity was uneventful. There wasn't even a whiff of IRT activity, and Rex wasn't confronted with anything more than a few squatters who hissed at his white armor as he passed by. He was out of the restricted zone in less than thirty minutes. Once he broke into the inhabited, busy under city, his mind began to settle.
Are we really just going to get away with blowing up a government building?
They were still under a time crunch, but that could be easily managed with no one tailing him. Rex wasn't sure whether or not the IRT would decide to lock down the planet, which could still happen at any moment, but his clearance codes should override even a lockdown.
Regardless of that assurance, Rex fought with the desire to pick up the pace. He had to move slower now. A running being was far more noticeable than one moving with the flow of the crowd. Rex melted into the crowd the best he could. His armor, unfortunately, would stick out. People avoided him, not knowing trooper armor well enough to tell that his was slightly different, and far more dirty than regulation allowed.
Rex used his HUD to map out a route that took back alleyways and tunnels that would keep him out of sight. Rex glanced up at the holos every now and then, waiting for the moment that they would announce a lockdown of the planet, but they only displayed images of Imperial Troops landing on the planet in hordes. Though it had happened months ago, the Empire liked to remind its citizens that their presence on the planet wasn't to be forgotten.
Rex wondered how many of the bucket heads had been clones.
Murrack's gruff voice sounded in Rex's ear. "We're at the rendezvous. Are you still alive?"
"Sorry to disappoint you, but yes. I'm half a klick out. Get the ship ready to launch."
Murrack only grunted in reply.
Rex picked up the pace. It wasn't the IRT that was worrying him now.
If I had my men, Fives, Jesse, Hardcase, then I'd be placid as a pickled papple.
Rex had spent too much mental energy this day assuring himself that the Mandos did need him, and they wouldn't leave him to the droids. But each event made the possibility for utter betrayal more and more likely. He just needed to have it done. Get off the planet, drop off the beskar-lovers and be done with it. He itched to be in the future where all was done and over with.
One step at a time. Patience, soldier.
Rex wanted to liken it to a battle, a mission, but there was never this worry that those he put his trust in would suddenly fail him.
And it's happened once before, why not again? These men don't even care about you like your brothers did. They barely know you.
No. He couldn't go down that road of thought. He had to deal with each moment as it passed, and prepare for what he could. He decided then to prepare for betrayal. That would at least keep his reflexes ready to strike if it was needed.
The shipyard at long last came into view. Rex took a lift up to the platform 304-A where his sheathipede-class transport was docked. The ramp was up, which made Rex wary. He spoke into his wrist comm.
"I'm here. Lower the ramp."
There was no response, but after a few heartbeats the ramp lowered. Rex resisted the feeling that he was walking into a trap. His mind screamed at him.
They cannot get off the planet without you. They won't pull anything.
But he hadn't expected Rook to blow herself to pieces either.
Rex pushed through the feeling of dread and stepped up the ramp with quiet footsteps. His left hand hovered over Protector. The hallway was empty, and the bunks were burdened with three sets of beskar armor. Each had the remnants of the Shadow Collective's black and red paint, but apart from Rook's, most of it had been scratched off. Her helmet seemed to stare at him. It was odd to him that the wearer was now nothing more than charred flesh.
Rex could hear the gentle hum of the engine and the sound of switches being flicked. The two were muttering to each other. Rex didn't know if he should make his presence known, but what was he going to do? Attack them? They had their chance to jump him, dispose of him, whatever he was afraid they might do, but they hadn't.
They just want to get off the planet, just like you.
Rex made a lot of noise removing his helmet as he joined them in the cockpit. Grey turned to look at Rex, his helmet off. The young man had reddened eyes and a rigid expression. To Rex's surprise, the Mando nodded to Rex, stiffly. Murrack did nothing to acknowledge Rex's presence.
Before Rex could utter a word, the engines whined into life and the hiss of hydraulics told him that the shuttle door was closing. The ship smoothly lifted off and Murrack guided it out of the shipyard and up towards the surface. Rex shouldn't have anything to complain about, but he couldn't help but feel uneasy at Murrack's audacity to pilot Rex's ship like it was his own.
Rex glared at the back of Murrack's head, but didn't say anything.
It won't be long now. Just get through it.
Rex didn't feel like sitting, even though his body was exhausted. Sitting would make him feel vulnerable and lax when he wanted to be alert. It infuriated Rex that neither of the men said anything. No one mentioned Rook. Neither of them said anything about Rex's spur of the moment alternative plan that had worked. Rex realized how accustomed he was to receiving praise for a job well done. The job had been a success. Yet Rex felt a tightness in his chest and throat.
Something wasn't right.
They climbed in altitude quickly. The silence was oppressive and begged to be broken, yet Murrack and Grey said nothing, not even to each other. Rex noticed that Grey was glancing over at Murrack with a not so friendly look in his eye. He really was upset about Rook. They must have been close. There was a time Rex was sure he could have empathized with the man, but right now he wasn't open to those kinds of feelings. He couldn't help but feel like Grey deserved the hurt. He'd chosen to be part of an insane death cult, hadn't he?
No, he didn't deserve compassion. Rex and Grey were not the same. Their losses were not the same.
Their craft reached the launch dock. It was the point where starships entered and exited the biodome that encased Sundari. Rex felt a jolt of anxiety. He would give the clearance codes here. After that, his usefulness was essentially spent. The worry that the pair of Mandos would turn against him would be far more legitimate.
They approached the launch dock, which looked similar to a torpedo launch bay, only it sent out ships instead of explosives. They were hailed. Murrack answered.
"This is sheathipede-class transport requesting passage out of the bio-dome and off planet." He said. He turned to look at Rex for the first time since they had been falling in mid-air together. Normally those kinds of experiences forged a bond between the survivors, but Murrack still had nothing but disdain in his gaze.
Murrack stretched out his hand and wiggled his forefinger at Rex. Rex stiffened. Murrack wanted the codes. It was all wrong. Rex was supposed to be flying his own ship, giving his own codes. They were his. This was his operation. His fury at Murrack made him almost refuse. Murrack wiggled his finger even faster, baiting Rex's pent up anger. Rex could see a sneer curling the side of Murrack's mouth. But Rex would do anything, even respond to being treated like a servant as long as Murrack had the data-tapes. Murrack was greatly enjoying that fact.
It was a stupid game, but Rex would play it. He checked his rage, shoved it down, and gave Murrack the codes. Murrack repeated them in the comms and they were granted access. Rex wanted to breathe a sigh of relief as they passed through the chute and broke into the planet's atmosphere. They had done it. No lockdowns, no questions. The codes had worked. Everything else had gone according to plan.
But there could be no true relief for him until he had washed his hands of the scum.
There was a final moment of tension before they exited the planet's atmosphere, a worry that suddenly their clearance would be revoked and the Imperials would descend on them, but nothing happened. They were off into hyperspace, traveling towards Huttese space. The Mandos had a feeling they might encounter remnants of the Shadow Collective there, perhaps even pieces of Death Watch. Rex was only a little worried about pirates and crime lords, but most likely they would be left alone.
They were free. Their crimes were behind them. And yet Rex had that feeling like he had just been locked in a room with a Rancor. His blood pounded in his ears. The tension had to break, he couldn't stand it. He had to say something. Had to reassure himself that it was all in his head.
Rex stepped up to the pilot's seat. "I can take it from here, Murrack. Job well done."
Murrack didn't reply at first, but instead leaned back in the seat and stretched. He took his time with the stretch before he spoke. "I quite like it here, actually. I think I'll stay."
Rex felt a flash of anger that numbed his face. "It's my ship Murrack. My ship. My rules."
Murrack turned to Rex and revealed his scruffy square jawed face. His bald head was shiny with sweat. He kept his small, dark eyes away from Rex as he scratched his jaw.
"You don't own anything, clone. You're not even a citizen. How can you own anything?"
"And you're a wanted criminal and a terrorist. So we both lose. Get out of the chair." Rex balled his hand into a fist and squeezed so tightly that the leather of his gloves creaked.
Murrack swiveled the chair around and looked at Rex eye to eye. He didn't smile, but his tone of voice suggested amusement. "No."
Rex took a step towards Murrack. To Rex's surprise, Grey was silent and unresponsive to Rex's movement. Murrack on the other hand, stood up in reply.
His amusement at Rex finally encouraged a twisted smile to emerge on his thin lips.
"What are you going to do, clone? You gonna make me move?"
"Don't do this." Rex whispered. Rex locked eyes with the man, and he couldn't push out the mental image of him pounding that smirking face in on itself until it was too broken to smile anymore. "Don't give me a reason."
Murrack laughed, a scratchy, airy sound. "You think you can take me on? This is over for you, meatdroid. Over. This ship is mine now. These data tapes are mine. You are nothing. Fake. A copy of a man greater than you."
The words wormed their way into Rex's mind and he faltered. He was a copy. An imitation. And not even a true one. Only the first ARC troopers were truly Jango's equal. He was a neutered version, watered down and weaker. The scar on the side of his head seemed to prickle. And he was a droid, or at least they had made him that way. They all were.
No. You are men. All of you. He's just trying to get you to back down. Don't back down.
Rex reached for Vengeance and drew it quickly, but Murrack was just as fast. He drew his own pistol and pointed it at Rex's head. Grey stood now, but Rex couldn't see what his reaction was beyond surprise.
"Back down, clone. You think I need any more reasons? Hundreds of your kind died each day for three years and the galaxy didn't even sniff. What's one more?"
Rex's hand shook. He didn't want to just shoot the man. He wanted to grab him. Hurt him. Squeeze him until Rex's anger bled away along with Murrack's life.
If Ahsoka was here she would stop him.
But she wasn't here.
Give me a reason. Go on.
The two bored into each other's eyes. "Why don't you just do it then? Are you scared I'll fire before you? Are you scared an imitation will prove to be better than the real thing?" The words didn't phase Murrack in the slightest.
"I'm just waiting for you to back down, like I know you will. That's an order, soldier."
Rex went numb. The word echoed around his mind, engaging every terrible memory from the last five years of his life in one moment. His heart was pounding, his brow was furrowed so intensely that it began to twitch. Rex knew he should lower his blaster. He knew if Ahsoka were here that would be what she would tell him to do.
But she wasn't here.
His arm wouldn't lower.
"I said." Murrack drawled, "That's an-"
"NO." Rex fired his blaster. Murrack, his reflexes quick, fired in response to the sound, but Rex's bolt had already hit Murrack's barrel. Murrack's shot streaked wildly to the side of Rex and the pistol flew from Murrack's hand. Rex holstered his own pistol and lunged, yelling with fury, and drew back his arm.
Murrack responded without missing a beat, grabbing Rex's wrist as he brought it in towards Murrack's face. Murrack twisted Rex's arm and landed a kick to Rex's middle. Rex grunted and doubled over. As Murrack came in for a blow to the back of Rex's head, Rex threw himself to the floor. Murrack, suddenly met with air, threw himself off balance with his blow. Rex grabbed Murrack's ankle and pulled, assuring he succumbed to gravity.
Murrack fell backward, his head smacking on the pilot's chair. Rex stood and loomed over the disoriented man. He should leave it there, draw his pistol and demand the Mando's surrender, but he didn't. Rex's body seemed to move on its own. The part of his brain that considered and green-lighted actions was mute.
Rex kicked Murrack in the face and Rex felt only numbness at the sight of the blood. He kicked again and heard a popping noise. He kicked again and again and again.
Rex! REX!
Rex froze. The voice had come from inside his own head. He knew instantly whose voice it was.
Ahsoka? He thought. Is that you?
Rex felt suddenly like there was someone standing directly behind him. He whirled around. No one was there.
"Ahsoka?" Rex's voice was strained, barely audible to his own ears.
"Captain? What's wrong?" Grey's voice sounded from behind.
Rex felt the presence vanish. His mind grew silent. He turned back to Grey, his eyes wide.
"Why'd you stop?" Grey gestured to Murrack who was groaning and bloody.
"Why'd I...what?"
"You stopped. Job's not done yet. Do him in. Finish it." Grey looked down at Murrack with unbridled disgust.
Rex was breathing heavily, adrenaline running around in confusion in his veins. His anger, his desire to break Murrack was gone. He looked down at the bloodied man and felt shame.
She saw you do this.
Rex shook his head. "No. He's had enough. I think I drove the point home."
Grey sighed, looking genuinely disappointed. "Well, alright then." He drew his pistol and shot Murrack in the chest.
"For Rook." Grey sniffed and sat back down in the co-pilot's chair.