Title: 7567, A Story

Disclaimer: I own nothing except the plot. Some of the base worldbuilding is attributable to Project0506's Soft Wars on Ao3.

Summary: An imagined slightly angsty Rex backstory with some Cody/Rex 'shipping for flavour.

Notes: So, I'd been reading Soft Wars and I found myself imagining a different background for Rex, but with some of the same Soft Wars worldbuilding. And thus this was born. It's a quickie and doesn't go nearly as much into the self-confidence and sadness and what-all that it should, but I'm physically incapable of longer-term angst.


Geonosis was a mess.

He was already tangentially aware that two of his own squadmates had gone down in the chaos that the Jedi were not helping to resolve. The Jedi were incredible solo fighters, but there seemed to be little capability there to work in tandem with each other, let alone with the army that had supposedly been created for them.

Cody had his handpicked second, a fellow CC who'd picked the name Capper, and his assigned troop of men. Some of them were squads he'd worked with, but there were at least two squads who had just been thrown at him in the scramble to respond to the call of the teeny green Jedi who had come for them. He'd picked his SiC specifically because Capper had always been calm in the face of fire. No matter the situation Capper had been cool and collected and responded exactly as he was supposed to. He wasn't terribly creative, no, but Cody knew he was reliable and would do his best to get the men under his command out in one piece if Cody died or was otherwise no longer able to lead his people.

At least, that had been the expectation. Cody had, in a moment of unfortunate distraction, been cut off from his troopers and even now could hear Capper over the din of battle as he struggled to get back to them before he was overwhelmed. "Cody! Oh, osik! What do I do?"

Cody didn't have the breath to spare to tell Capper to belt it up and do his job. A shout emerged from the group and for a moment he thought it was Capper pulling himself together, but the inflections over the vocorder were just a little off for that. "Front left with the Deeces, shift over and you with the Z-6, take point and clear a path to the captain!"

The vod giving the orders pulled them together, got the troop to Cody, kept them together and managed to organise them enough not to lose anyone from sheer chaos. The orders could have been better, and in training exercises Capper'd done better, but Capper was still panicking.

They got to Cody just in time, because while Cody could manage to fistfight a droid, it wasn't usually a first choice when he had no backup. Cody adroitly slipped back into position, taking command back from the vod who seemed about to step away entirely and become invisible in the plain, unmarked helmets of the troop. Cody would not allow that, because whoever this was, he had potential and Cody was going to snag him for an SiC before anyone else did. The orders had the sound of a CT with no specialised training, and lack of training could be remedied. Capper's panic in the face of a real mission, not a training one, couldn't be fixed. "Name and give me a sitrep!" he demanded of the vod to keep him there.

"CT-7567," replied the vod. Cody wondered briefly if he hadn't picked a name yet or if he had some stickler-for-the-rules tendencies. He didn't ask as '67 gave him a list of who they lost, a hitch in his voice telling Cody that '67 had just lost his squadmates, carefully didn't say anything bad about Capper, noted the weapons they still had access to in the midst of the clusterfuck and generally caught Cody up to everything he missed when he was getting practice in hand-to-hand combat with droids.

"'67, you're with me, Capper, vod, simmer down and take back flank of a diamond formation," Everyone there knew that he'd just made a field promotion and demotion in one sentence.

'67's "Yes sir," was oddly subdued, but Cody didn't have time to deal with that, just as he saw the last of his own squadmates go down, leaving his vod Masker's troop to the second-in-command.

Cody gritted his teeth and kept fighting. He dropped the duties of an SiC on '67 and watched the vod rise to the occasion beautifully. Unpractised, yes. But '67's instincts were impeccable and he locked into step with Cody in a way Capper never had.

When the battle was over, they tallied the dead, arranged transport for the wounded, dealt with the Jedi and prepped to return to Kamino where they'd be given final assignments. Through it all '67 handled whatever Cody threw at him, but seemed oddly hesitant now that they were out of the field. He also didn't take his bucket off. At first, well, half the Vod'e weren't taking them off yet. Later, '67 was one of only a small number of holdouts. But finally they were on the transport back and he still hadn't. Cody, trying to distract himself from the fact that his squad, his brothers, were gone, approached '67. "Look, we haven't had much time to talk," he said, "But you should know that I want you for my SiC. You've got a good head on your shoulders, and I can't keep Capper when he wasn't able to deal with something outside a live fire exercise."

'67 looked at him, and Cody wondered again why he hadn't taken the helmet off. "Thank you," said the vod. "But I . . . it's not a good idea."

Something about his self-effacement made Cody concerned. "Is this about the CC CT divide?" he asked. "Because we all know that that's just longneck osik. The only reason the CCs get all the commands is because they gave us that training. There's no reason a CT can't."

Suddenly '67 fumbled off the helmet and Cody blinked as he saw blond hair and a face just a little too young to be there. "I'm sure you can do better than a defective bolt stopper with incomplete training."

The words left Cody winded. His first thought was that the cadet - who was nearly through training and only just a little younger than Cody, but clearly not there yet - should head back to Kamino and finish up his training and Cody would retrieve him then. But it was a fleeting thought because the statement that he was a defective bolt stopper wasn't said with bitterness. The words weren't angry or sad. They were matter-of-fact. Whatever happened to '67, he believed all the way down to his soul that he was defective and nothing more than a grunt to take on the brunt of an attack in the infantry.

He dragged the cadet aside, getting the two of them into a corner. "First, your training may not be complete, but all the training in the world can't give you the instincts for command. You have those. Second, I wouldn't have made you take the place of my SiC today if I thought you weren't good enough. Third, you are not defective. Whatever the longnecks think, hair colour doesn't affect your performance. We all know they have osik reasoning when it comes to us, so do me a favour and don't apply that to yourself."

'67 flinched. "You should get someone who has that training. I'm not up for specialisation. No one in my squad is . . . was."

"I'm sorry," Cody said as the words reminded him all over again he wasn't seeing his vod'e ever again. "I lost mine too, today."

The blond took a shaky breath. "We were just getting back from a training exercise when they started grabbing people. Wrong place, wrong time, I guess." He looked at Cody, his throat working as he tried to say something else. Cody waited. With a sharp shake of his head, '67 said. "Well, without my squad . . . we used to cover for each other. We were all defective, one way or another, so the longnecks made sure no one went near us. Like we could infect them or something. I . . . they've been looking for an excuse," he said, his voice cracking slightly. "I doubt I'll make it to the front lines, so . . . I guess I should say thanks, Captain. At least I got to-"

Cody was furious. He was furious with the longnecks because they'd created this system and he didn't doubt '67's assessment that the blond was likely to wind up decommissioned without his squad. He was furious with the other clones who clearly hadn't been there for '67. He knew the second was a little unreasonable, but still, supporting each other was the only way they got through. He was furious with the trainers for not seeing that '67 had so much potential. "No," Cody snapped. "It will not happen because I will not let it happen."

And he didn't. When they were nearly back he had '67 put his helmet back on and started in on the requisition forms. He brought '67 with him, implying the other was a full private, a CC cadet or whatever else he needed to imply when he needed to. Cody filled everything out himself, made sure to log everything himself, begged, bribed and bullied his way into making every single manual entry he could to get CT-7567 reassigned to what was at first Cody's company and which rapidly spiralled into his whole battalion. He got the final course work for a CC out of Alpha-17, telling him most of the truth, just not that his brilliant cadet was a CT.

'67 went along with it, looking confused and hopeful every time Cody saw him without the bucket on. When they shipped out Cody spent every spare moment he had making sure that his chosen SiC got all those blanks in his training filled in, even as he had '67 doing crew assignments, standing at his right hand in every meeting and running his own company, just as Cody ran Ghost Company. '67 rose to the occasion every time. He had a wicked sense of humour once he'd relaxed enough to be sure that his decommissioning wasn't imminent and he handled combat, paperwork and interpersonal conflict with equal aplomb.

The CT bloomed with the attention, the responsibility and the encouragement. When '67 finished the final test needed for his graduation from cadet to full member of the GAR officially, Cody couldn't help the way his mind started to wander. '67 was clever and tough and very very attractive. But Cody held back from saying anything.

Because for all his success, for all the popularity he had as a CO, despite the way that everyone who met him simply assumed he'd been on command track the whole time, '67 still made those joking comments about being a bolt stopper. He was still waiting for the other shoe to drop. He was still waiting for Cody to decide he wanted better. He'd refused to pick a name, and something told Cody that it was because '67 still felt like he didn't deserve one. If he started to flirt with '67 now, the blond would feel obligated in some way or, and Cody wasn't sure which he felt would be worse, '67 would feel like he should be grateful. Thankful that a CC had deigned to notice him. If '67 ever returned his interest, Cody wanted it to be because '67 wanted Cody, not because of gratitude or obligation.

So, Cody held back.

'67 had also fallen into a friendship not unlike the one Cody was finding with his General. While Cody and General Kenobi had fallen into step together with them in a perfectly matched working relationship on and off the battlefield, the General's Padawan, Commander Skywalker, had fallen into step with '67. They shared the same slightly more reckless, more aggressive predilections and made as good a team as Cody and Kenobi did.

It was one evening while Cody and his General were dealing with the endless paperwork that Skywalker poked his nose in. "I just wanted to ask something, Commander," the Padawan said. "I'm not asking you to tell me any of his secrets, but why won't 7567 tell me his name?" He looked hurt by that. "I don't want to push him, but . . ." he trailed off looking as frustrated as Cody often felt with '67.

"I admit to wondering that myself," Kenobi said. "It is, of course, not our business should he decide not to," he added.

Cody sighed. "'67 hasn't told you because he still hasn't picked a name," he said. "Trust me, you're not the first to ask about it."

"Do you know why?" Skywalker asked. He looked particularly anxious. "It's just . . . a name is the one thing they can't take from you," he said. "No matter what, that's yours."

For a moment Cody thought about '67, about what his second would think about Cody speaking about him. Then he decided. He needed advice and he could trust Kenobi and Skywalker not to betray '67. Even though General Ti had ensured that no one else would be decommissioned, There was no telling what the longnecks would do if he were to be sent back. Cody looked up at them. "You have to understand that '67 wouldn't be here if I hadn't . . . hadn't gone to the effort to make it happen." He told them about Geonosis, about meeting the vod who'd pulled their troop together and about how '67 had been and still was so sure that Cody was going to find someone better. Cody shrugged. "I've tried, but I don't know how to make him see how good he is, how much he deserves his place. If you have a suggestion sirs, I'd love to hear it."

General Kenobi looked grave. "I had thought he was . . . uncomfortable," he said, "But I did not imagine that 7567 was so lacking in self-confidence."

"ARC training," Skywalker spoke abruptly. "I mean, if you think he's good enough to do it."

"Anakin?" Kenobi frowned at the Padawan.

Commander Skywalker crossed his arms over his chest somewhat defensively. "When I first started training it became clear pretty quickly that I didn't know anything. There was so much and for so long I felt . . . I felt like I wasn't going to be good enough." He turned to the General. "It didn't matter how often you said that I was doing okay, or even well, I didn't feel like I was." He shifted uncomfortably a moment and then backed up to lean against the wall, raising his head to look at Cody. "It wasn't until I got to be in a lightsabre competition against the others my own age and actually won instead of always just losing badly to my master that I thought I might actually be good enough."

Kenobi shot Skywalker a look that said the pair would be returning to the topic later, but he nonetheless looked back at Cody. "If you think you can do without him, I would be willing to support such a move," he said. "Assuming of course that you think Anakin's suggestion has merit."

"You do, sir?" Cody asked. He could almost see the train of thought '67 might be having. He'd only been put into his current position because Cody had intervened. He could be thinking that some part of it was a pity posting even though Cody would never do such a thing if only for the sake of the men he was leading.

His General inclined his head. "I think, based upon the history you have given us, that it is a distinct possibility that 7567 has yet to feel he has earned his posting. ARC training or something similar might well allow him the chance to feel he has genuinely succeeded wholly on his own merits."

It wasn't something Cody had considered before, but now that the Jedi were saying it, he could see where it was coming from. "Well then, sir, I'll have that paper ready for you as soon as possible."

A month later the transfer paperwork was done and '67 came as close to storming into Cody's office as the CC had ever seen. "Why?" demanded the blond vod. "I'm not . . . Cody, I barely made it through basic training," he went from angry to pleading.

"That was because the longnecks and trainers had decided for you. '67, even if you were to wash out, which you won't because you're damn good, no one will be sending you for decom. General Ti doesn't allow it and the General will be expecting you back." Cody stood, braced his hands on '67's shoulders, looking his CT SiC in the eye, willing him to take in what Cody had to tell him. "I'm sending you because you're good enough for this, because you should have whatever extra training you can get and because once you're an ARC it won't matter anymore whether you're a CT, blond, or a dancing bantha."

Doing that had been a mistake, Cody realised. Not because it wasn't helping '67 find his courage, but because being that close and face to face was making Cody think far too much about kissing the vod in front of him. Trying not to look like he was retreating Cody carefully stepped back. He couldn't do this now. Not while '67 might not take it in the way Cody wanted. Not until they could be in an equal partnership.

'67's eyes still narrowed as he caught that something was off with Cody, but he seemed to accept the reasoning. He left for Kamino in the morning and Cody received an irate comm call from Alpha-17 about the fact that Cody had been all but lying about his second.

Three days later he got a second call from Alpha-17, this time telling Cody he'd done right and to leave the vod'ika to Alpha and the trainers.

It was a long several months, infrequent letters from a tired-sounding '67 were Cody's only reassurance that '67 was fine. Waxer was a fine enough SiC and Cody wasn't going to complain, but he missed '67. He missed the other vod's humour, his way of coming up with crazy plans that worked and the fact that he could somehow wrangle Skywalker into being less trouble. They all liked Skywalker, who protected the men, did his best by them and was an excellent fighter on the battlefield, but he was even more reckless than Kenobi. Since Kenobi was certifiably crazy when he got one of his ideas into his head, having Skywalker be worse was just too much some days.

Finally '67 was done. Alpha-17 had privately informed Cody that the vod had been at the top of the class and more than that, had earned some honours, though he wouldn't say what, just that on a few of the missions that were part of the training he'd distinguished himself.

When the shuttle arrived, Cody had been pacing his quarters for half the morning unable to even spar because Kenobi had thrown him out of the sparring ring after the third vod he'd sent flying while trying to work through his nerves. Would '67 be angry with him? Would he have changed? It was nervewracking. He should be getting something useful done, but he couldn't focus long enough.

It took everything in him not to bolt for the shuttle bay when he was told it was arriving. And then '67 was stepping off, the ARC kama, the pauldron, and his armour finally painted with more than the previous few minor markers that had been solely to distinguish him on the battlefield.

"Are those Jaig eyes?" the General asked a tone of pleasant curiosity in his voice.

When '67 took his helmet off Cody felt lightheaded for a half a second. There was an easiness to the way he held himself, a confidence to it that had been so sorely missing "They are," he said.

"You'll have to tell me the story sometime," Kenobi said.

"I'll do that, sir," '67 said. He turned to Cody. "Reporting for duty as ordered, sir."

Cody couldn't stop his smile. "Welcome back '67."

"It's Rex, Commander," the blond vod said. It was everything Cody had wanted. He was about to say something when Skywalker plunged past him.

"You picked a name? That's great! Hey, you know that idea you had before you left about-"

"Anakin, let the man get settled in before you assault him with whatever recklessness you have planned," Kenobi chastised.

After a moment of affront Cody decided it was probably better he'd been interrupted. Force only knew when he might have said in public. As '67 - Rex shot him a look, he gestured indicating that Rex could do as he like. "Why don't you tell me about it on the way down to my quarters," Rex said as he steered Anakin out of the bay.

Kenobi sighed. "I think I missed him for his ability to corral Anakin more than anything else," he said to Cody.

"Once reason of many," Cody tacitly agreed.

It was hours later that Cody was finally alone with Rex. He'd headed to his quarters, only to find Rex standing outside them, clearly waiting for him. "Did you want to talk?" he asked, gesturing the blond inside ahead of him.

"You could say that," Rex said as the door shut behind them both. Suddenly he had Cody pressed to the wall and Cody's mind went blissfully blank as they kissed. Finally Rex pulled away, panting a little. "You don't know how long I've wanted to do that, Cody."

Cody gave a gasping laugh of disbelief. "I'll hope it's for at least as long as I wanted to."

"Why didn't you?" Rex asked, sounding curious rather than hurt.

Taking a deep breath, because this could backfire, Cody explained. "Because I didn't want to take the risk that you'd feel obligated because I was your CO or because I'd gotten you the SiC position. I also didn't want to find out that you felt . . . that you were . . . grateful that a CC had bothered to be interested or . . . just . . . I wanted you to want me, six - Rex. Sorry. Habit."

Rex smiled at him. "Thank you for waiting for me to be ready, Cody. It wasn't . . . I like that you're smart and you know how to circumvent the regs and the way that you care enough to promote based on competence. I wouldn't have done it out of gratitude, though I'll always be grateful you noticed me. But it wasn't until the night before I left that I even thought it was possible you'd think of me like that. I'd always figured you'd see me as your vod'ika and I couldn't risk it becoming strange between us."

They were still pressed against the wall and Cody was tired and yet the idea of saying anything that might interrupt the intimacy of the moment or moving his arms from anywhere that wasn't wrapped around Rex was just anathema. He thought he could stand there until the end of time just to keep feeling like this. "Once I realised how much I wanted you I had to try very hard to keep from slipping up, but you wouldn't even pick a name and I'd seen other CCs get into trouble because of-"

Rex kissed him again. "You were right," he said when they pulled apart far enough to talk. "But I'm back and . . . kark it, Cody, I need to get you out of those clothes right now."

From there it was a scramble of blacks and armour going in every direction and Cody didn't care because that wounded look was gone from Rex's eyes finally and he could touch him the way he wanted and say all the thing he'd wanted to say about how pretty Rex's hair was and do all the things he wanted all the times they'd sparred and he'd wanted that sparring to turn to something else. Rex didn't hold back either and Cody felt that one tension in his life lift away finally.

One month later Skywalker was promoted to General of the 501st and made off with Rex. As much as Skywalker having his own battalion with Rex in command was stressful as they all had no idea what the madman would do next, and as much as he missed Rex terribly, Cody did enjoy that Rex was no longer in his direct chain of command. Given how often the 212th and the 501st worked together, they weren't separated all that much, either. Also, 501st blue looked very good on his Rex.