Bail Organa walked out on his private platform with his daughter at his side, their heads tipped to the atmosphere as they awaited their guest's arrival.

They waited and waited, and waited some more, and Leia couldn't decide if it was just her being anxious or if Ahsoka was actually late. After a while of fruitless anticipation, she let her eyes drift over to her father, concern blooming in her chest.

"She was supposed to be here by now," she finally blurted out. "Do you think she got boarded again?"

He gave her a look. "Patience, daughter."

"You're right," the teen nodded, more to herself than to him, turning her attention back to the sky. "She's probably fine."

A short beat of silence passed.

"But what if she did get boarded?"

Bail let out a soft sigh. "Darling, don't worry yourself. Even if she did, I'm sure Ahsoka is more than capable of handling it."

"I know," she said, shoulders sinking slightly. "I'm just a little anxious."

He laughed softly. "Well, it's hardly been that long since you've seen her, Leia," he said, turning his eyes to her. "I'm sure she has missed you too."

She smiled to herself. "Is she coming here for business, father?"

"I assume so."

"You assume?"

"She didn't specify," he said. "Her only request was to have access to one of our private docks."

Leia hummed. "It must be important, then. Maybe she was afraid the Empire was listening."

Bail couldn't help the proud glint in his eyes as he glanced at his daughter. Eventually, a white ship came into view, approaching them from the north. A relieved smile crossed her face.

Finally.

The landing gear kicked out beneath the ship, accompanied by a gust of wind that caused Leia's knees to shudde. She stumbled slightly, and if it weren't for the small tug at the corner of her father's mouth, she would have assumed he didn't notice.

When the ship finally alighted, the hatch lowered and slowly sank to the ground with a soft creak. Leia's eyes lit up at the sight of Ahsoka and Captain Rex walking down the ramp.

Bail softly nudged her toward the ship. "Go ahead."

The teen walked to the ramp with an unusual bounce in her step, meeting Ahsoka halfway and wrapping her into a bone-crushing hug.

"Hey, little buddy," Ahsoka spoke into her shoulder, fondly, "it's good to see you."

"Good to see you too." Leia peaked her head out, eying Bail with a small grin. "Father was worried you got boarded again."

Ahsoka laughed softly, craning her head to look at him as well. "I'm sure he was."

He gave a smile before walking up to Rex. The clone had his helmet over his face, his spine straight and hands clasped behind his back.

"Captain," Bail greeted, offering his hand with a smile, "glad to see you alive and well."

Rex shook it, tipping his head politely. "Likewise, Senator."

The man took a step back, surveying the two as Leia and Ahsoka finally broke apart. "What brings you two here?"

A small grimace crossed Ahsoka's face. She motioned for someone to come out of the ship. Bail's stomach dropped when he caught sight of the man.

"Lord Vader," he addressed, taking a small step forward to quietly tug Leia behind him. "Welcome to Alderaan."

Before he was able to say anything in response, Ahsoka cut him off. "We need your help."

»»««

"This way, please."

Rex followed the group down the corridor, lagging behind them slightly to keep everyone in view.

The former captain watched Skywalker, his examining eyes comfortably hidden behind his bucket. Here, where the man quietly sulked near the back of their group, he seemed much more like the General that Rex served alongside during the war.

He remembered the troubling tales overheard from brothers assigned to other Generals. Stories of Jedi that, despite fighting for the same cause as the 501st did, overlooked their value—treating diligent, adept soldiers like they were disposable.

But General Skywalker never saw them like that. He fought against the odds to protect as many of his brothers as he could on the battlefield. He stayed with the battalion after missions, helping Kix and Coric tend to the injured. He never called any of them by their number, insistent on knowing each of their names.

He respected them—not as clones, but as individuals—as soldiers that were there to fight with him, through thick and thin. They offered their lives to the Republic, and Skywalker always made his appreciation for their sacrifices known. When a brother fell, he mourned with them. He considered them in his strategies. He cared about them.

Another glance over to the former General.

What happened to you?

Rex heard Bail and Ahsoka talking indistinctly, filling the thick air with a jumble of words he couldn't quite catch while the princess slowed her pace to meet his. He tore his eyes from Skywalker to look at the teen, watching as a polite smile crossed her features.

"I've heard a lot of stories about you," she whispered, her voice only loud enough for him to hear. "Of the clones, I mean. My father has told me a lot."

He winced under his helmet.

Many overlooked the years that the GAR served in the war. After Order 66, the people forgot how hard they fought. They never knew how many of his brothers died in his arms, looking up at him with dull, lifeless eyes to fix their odds in a battle. They ignored the many lives unfairly lost in the war.

But he couldn't fault them.

The clones' true purpose was to kill the Jedi. It didn't matter how hard they worked, how many people they grew to love, or how many battles they narrowly survived. They were created to be pawns.

Rex still remembered the sensation of being controlled clearly.

It was foreign. Cold.

He recognized the feeling of his dual pistols in his hands, fingers pressed against the trigger—only this time, he wasn't the one in control.

The only satisfaction his blasters ever provided him was knowing that each time he fired, he was bringing the galaxy closer to peace... but there was nothing peaceful about his orders to kill Tano. They went against everything he had ever learned in his short life—loyalty, friendship, honor—but he wasn't the one that decided when to fire.

His arms lifted against his will, each movement fueled by a rage that didn't belong to him. His body felt hollow—every rebellious thought in his mind weighed down by four tormenting, painfully familiar words:

Good soldiers follow orders.

They played inside in his head, repeating over and over like some demented mantra. It grew louder, and louder, and louder until he couldn't hear his own thoughts—until he complied. He fought himself until his strength slipped away from him. From that point on, his vision drifted in and out until Tano removed his chip. He had lost all control.

In hindsight, he knew he was only carrying out his part of the plan—a plan that he didn't even know he was involved in, one he would never even ask to be a part of. It was the reason the purpose of the war was obscured from his view. He thought he was fighting for peace, but it was never about peace. It was all just a game.

It made him feel like he was on Umbara again—like he just ripped the helmet off of a brother, feeling the heat of a wound that his blaster caused. The war was just a distraction from the evil brewing right under their noses.

"Captain?"

The princess' voice snapped him out of his thoughts with a soft jolt. He blinked harshly, trying to gather his thoughts before turning his head.

"Sorry, kid. Can you repeat that?"

"I said that it was nice to finally meet you," she repeated, her tone light and cheerful, sharply contrasting the bitter taste that his own thoughts left in his mouth. "I've heard that you've done some great things for the Rebellion. My father thinks highly of you. I've only met one other clone in my life, but you seem to be great people. I'm sorry to hear that you've been through so much."

He wanted to focus on the other things that she said—because they were some of the nicest things he'd heard in a long time—but his mind got caught on one sentence in particular.

One other clone?

His eyes did a quick scan over the girl with a perplexed expression on his face. She was still young—no older than fifteen standard cycles, he guessed. There was no way she was around during the war. Wolffe and Gregor never mentioned meeting her, either.

Before he was able to ask, they had finally arrived at the medical bay.

The group walked in, filing into the large area one by one. Rex was the last to enter the room. His eyes scanned the grey walls and glowing white lights that covered the ceiling, then the operating rooms lined along the left wall, sealed with one large window each. They reminded him of the bays on Kamino.

"This is where the procedure will be performed." Bail gestured toward one of the rooms. Rex noticed a male figure standing behind the glass, sanitizing some of the tools alongside a medical droid unit.

"Are you sure this will work?"

If he didn't have the mask on, Rex might have said Skywalker sounded nervous. His posture was weaker than usual, his shoulders stooping somewhat under the weight of his suit.

"There are no guarantees," the Senator admitted. "However, I can ensure that my doctors will try their best to help."

He hummed. "And who will be conducting the surgery?"

"Ah, yes. Give me one moment."

Bail walked over to the operation room with the man inside, gently swinging the door open and taking a step inside. In the meantime, Rex slipped his bucket off, pulling it to the side to rest between his arm and his hip to get some fresh air.

Skywalker spoke to Ahsoka as she stood by Leia, a nearly indistinguishable tug of concern written on her brow. Rex knew she was as nervous about the surgery as Skywalker was—for her sake, he hoped it would go well.

He let himself glance over to the glass, squinting a bit to see both figures as the surgeon turned to meet Bail, finally revealing his face to those in the central area.

The helmet slipped out of his hands, hitting the ground with a resounding thump.

Ahsoka quickly looked over at him, clearly startled at the sudden sound. "Rex? Are you okay?"

No, it was just another hallucination—he was sure of it. He opened his mouth to reply, his words catching in his throat as his hands started to shake. Her gaze followed his to the doctor behind the thin glass.

"Kix?"

Skywalker craned his neck to look too, and Rex dimly caught his robotic breathing increasing in speed. Rex turned, his hands raking across his face harshly as tears welled in his eyes.

"That's our royal physician." Leia watched everyone with a troubled expression on her face. "Do you know him?"

"Commander Tano?"

A voice rang through the open space, and everyone slowly turned to look at the door. Rex's lungs felt like they were going to collapse at any given moment. His knees felt unsteady, a sick feeling falling over him when he got a good look at his brother.

He was young.

He looked like he hadn't aged at all since the war. Rex knew it was too good to be true. He felt his stomach sink and flip at the same time, each of his thoughts overlapping each other.

No. No one else would see him if it was in his head. It had to be real.

Ahsoka was the first to react. Her eyes were wide as she stepped forward, embracing him into a tight hug.

"Kix, you're alive."

"Oh, it's so nice to see a familiar face," His brother mumbled back, pulling back with his hands still lightly gripped around her shoulders. "It looks like you've grown up, Commander."

Rex could barely get his mind to focus on the exchange, unable to stop the endless volumes of who, how, what, where that echoed through his head.

She looked at him, grabbing onto his forearms. "But you haven't."

"A stasis pod," he blurted out. "I was in a cryo-chamber. How are you alive? I thought—I thought they had all of the Jedi killed. How did you make it out?"

Ahsoka looked over at Rex, and Kix's eyes followed, eventually landing on the helmet laying haphazardly on the floor. He studied it from afar, noticing the distinct patterns and jaig eyes painted onto it.

"Rex?" he asked, a grin blooming on his face when the older clone nodded. Before his mind had time to process, Kix wrapped him in a hug, laughing tearfully into his shoulder. "Oh, kriff. I thought I was the only one left. It's so good to see you."

"You too, brother," he managed, blinking away the tears that threatened to spill over and swallowing down the lump in his throat. He forced his thoughts to still, shaking his head slightly as he tried to collect himself. "What happened to you? I thought you went AWOL after Cody was injured. We never saw you again."

"What? No, I—" He blinked a few times to recall the memories, furrowing his brows. "I found something. Or, more accurately—Fives did. Something about the chips the Kaminoans put in our heads. When he went down there with Tup, he found a kark-load of suspicious information. He put it in his files, and I found all of it."

Rex felt a pang of emotion hit him in the chest at the mention of Fives.

Kix sighed, a guilty glint in his eyes. "Before I could tell anyone, someone somewhere must've found out I was onto them. They tried to send me to the Seppies."

"It seems that didn't go as planned," Bail said, and Rex startled, nearly forgetting the reason they were there. "My men found him in the wreckage of one of Count Dooku's ships on Ponemah Terminal a few cycles ago."

Stasis pod… cryo...

"You weren't awake when the orders were released," the clone realized. "Your chip was never activated."

His brother nodded. "I removed mine shortly after I came out of cryo. But that doesn't explain how you're here."

"Fives. He told me about the chips before he—" Rex paused abruptly, his vocal cords unwilling to complete the thought. He struggled to keep a neutral expression as a feeling of sorrow resurfaced. "Commander Tano returned for one last siege on Mandalore. She managed to get my chip out before the ship went down."

"Was there—are there any others that survived?" Kix asked, a hesitant glint of optimism in his eyes. "What about Jesse? Is he alive too?"

Rex exchanged a dismal look with Ahsoka. He wished they could say Jesse went peacefully—but they would be lying. Kix read their expressions, giving a halfhearted nod, and Rex felt relieved that he didn't have to go further into detail.

Ahsoka noticed the heaviness in the air, stepping forward and putting a gentle hand on Kix's arm. After a moment of silence—one that served as an unspoken tribute to their fallen brothers—he seemed to finally notice the mechanical breathing coming from the corner of the room.

His posture suddenly stiffened, his eyes widening as he slowly turned around. Once his eyes landed on the figure, he paled. "Rex, is that Darth—"

"That's Skywalker."

The clone blanched at his words, raising both brows in confusion. Rex couldn't begin to imagine how strange all of this must be for him—but they needed to concentrate.

"Bail tells us you can help," Ahsoka began hesitantly. "We need to get him out of that suit."

His brother gave an unsure look.

"May I?" Kix gestured toward him hesitantly. After she gave a nod of approval, he gulped, looking up at the threatening mask. "General."

"Don't call me that."

"Whatever you say, sir," he said as he began to circle him, carefully examining the suit with a quizzical expression. "That's cybernetic armor. Do you have injuries underneath?"

He gave what Rex assumed to be a shrug. "Shriveled lungs, lost limbs, and burns."

Kix grimaced at the list.

"Can you do it?" Rex asked, watching as his brother's brows furrowed.

"I'll do the best I can," he turned to the Senator. "I will need supplies, though. Prosthetics, synthetic organs, an internal breathing apparatus—anything you can find, send it down here."

"Of course, doctor." Bail gestured for a guard to fulfill his request. The man nodded once before leaving the room. "You will be working with a limited time frame. How soon can you perform the surgery?"

"We can start as soon as the materials get down here, sir."

Rex crossed his arms over his chest to keep himself from fidgeting. "How long will it take?"

Kix raked a hand through his hair, puffing out a breath. "With the extent of the injuries, it's hard to say for certain."

"We only have a rotation."

His brother gave a burdened look at his words, pursing his lips. "Rex, a surgery like this—he will require hours in operation and even more time to recover. You won't be able to move him for a few rotations, at least."

Rex glanced at Ahsoka, noticing her posture tense at his words. Skywalker didn't seem too hot either.

"If you don't mind my asking, what is the hurry?" Kix inquired, looking between them before his eyes landed on Rex again. "Surely you know a procedure like this can't be taken lightly. We were all taught basic medical aid on Kamino."

"Of course I know the risks, we just—" he paused. "Skywalker has trackers built into his armor. We're on the run."

A look of disbelief. "You're on the run?"

Rex opened his mouth to retort, but Kix held a hand up. "You know what, this might make my job easier," he mumbled, putting a hand over his chin. "At the very least, we can get rid of the suit before time is up. I can continue operating on him after you dispose of it."

"Where can we take it that the Empire won't trace us?" Ahsoka asked. "We need to find a location that would throw them off our scent."

"We could throw the suit out in the vacuum of space or something."

Bail narrowed his eyes at his daughter. "Leia, please, this is serious—"

Ahsoka put up a hand, looking at Leia with a glimmer in her eyes. "She might be onto something. Do you have any spare pods?"

He nodded warily. "I'm sure I can find one to offer."

"Are you suggesting we—"

"--cover our tracks," Rex cut Skywalker off. "That could work. Good thinking, kid."

"We would have to be sure they can't track us back here," Skywalker cautioned.

"That won't be a problem," Bail chimed in. "My men can disarm the tracking units in the pod. The only way they'll be able to find it is through the suit."

The door behind them opened, two men rolling in a large cart of supplies. Kix directed them to bring it into the operation room, but before he went inside, Rex gave his brother a fond clap on the back.

"Good luck, brother."

Kix nodded. "I'm going to need it."