Trigger warnings: none that I can think of, but if I missed something please let me know and I'll add it.
"Echo."
There's something like grief in Rex's voice. "What is it?" Echo asks quietly.
Rex's shoulders heave, once. He sucks in a breath. "It's nothing," he says. He clears his throat. Blinks. Blinks. "What'd you learn?"
"What is it?"
Rex swallows thickly. On the datapad instead of the hologram, it's so much easier to see. "I'm all right," he says roughly. "What did you find?"
"Rex."
Rex meets his eyes. Echo's heart breaks. There're tear tracks stained into his skin. "What happened?" Echo asks. "Is everyone all right?"
Rex takes a shuddery breath. "Jesse took a hit," he says hoarsely, and Echo jolts. "He took a hell of a hit. He's gonna be all right. I just…"
He lifts his hands helplessly. Echo wishes he was there, wishes he could wrap his arms around him and say it's okay, ner'vod, I've got you. But he's not there – by the looks of it, no one is. The room behind Rex is the officer's quarters he's always assigned aboard the capital ship and almost never opts to use.
"Why are you all by yourself?"
"Talking to you, vod." Rex's smile is weak, wobbly. He steels it. It's a valiant effort. Echo thinks it's probably a good thing he's in separate quarters, because Kix would call him out in a second.
Echo stares at him for a long beat. "What did you find?" Rex asks again. His voice is steadier now. "You comm'd me seven kriffin' times, Echo. What is it?"
"Sorry," Echo blurts, though he knows Rex doesn't really mind. Rex arches an eyebrow at him. He rushes ahead. "There wasn't much on Kamino. We still can't prove who the client is, but between what we pulled from the Kaminoan archive and what I learned while I was in stasis on Skako Minor, I put it together."
"And?"
"I think it's the Chancellor," Echo says. Rex's eyes blow wide. "I know what you're going to say. I know that sounds crazy. But think about it! Nala Se drugged Fives and Palpatine framed him to discredit him."
"Nala Se drugged Fives?" Rex's voice holds a quiet menace.
"It was a line at the end of her final report. She didn't want him to disclose any details about the chip. She claimed they only exist to keep us docile, that they're a way to keep any stray Jedi in line."
Rex scowls.
"There's – there's more," Echo says. "When I was in cold storage, I saw everything those servers handled. Every contract. The Republic put in a lot of them. They were all authorized by the Chancellor. But the thing is, none of that equipment ever made it to the battlefield. Not the walkers. Not the weapons. Not the fighters. None of it, Rex."
"What's he doing with all of it?"
"I don't know. Storing it, maybe. Waiting until he's wiped out the Jedi."
"We're at war," Rex says. "Why in the hell would he want all of the Jedi dead?"
"If they're out of the picture, maybe he has all the power," Echo says. "I don't know. I don't know, Rex. I just know that he's involved. He might even be the source of all of it. Maybe he's been a Separatist all along. Maybe he wants us to lose."
"Why would a Separatist commission an army for the Republic?" Rex furrows his brow. "Why not just launch a strike with the droids?"
Echo shrugs helplessly.
Rex's glower darkens. "They drugged Fives," he mutters. His hand curls into a fist, clenched so hard his arm shakes.
"Yeah." Echo waits a beat. "Rex?"
Rex's expression softens. The shaking eases. "Yeah?"
"Are you gonna be all right?"
Rex goes silent for a moment. "We have to consider a contingency," he says quietly. "If he senses we're closing in, he might pull the trigger early. Then we lose every single clone that hasn't had their chip removed."
"Are you going to be all right?" Echo asks again.
Rex sighs. Pinches the bridge of his nose and presses his eyes shut. "Just stay safe out there," he whispers. "You keep yourself alive."
"I'll try my best."
Rex takes a moment and then raises his head. "What's your next move?"
"Coruscant," Echo says. "If we're going to manage a contingency, we need to get into the Chancellor's office and figure out how he's going to trigger the chip. If we can't prove it and we can't remove everyone's chips in time, we can at least modify the command going out. Buy some time."
Rex nods grimly. "It would help if we had more information on how the chip works. Schematics. Programming."
"Tech is taking apart the ones we have," Echo says.
"Good."
"He's hoping to find the command and rig up a redirect. We'll do recon, get in, get it done, and get out."
"You know, what we're talking about is treason."
If they fail, they're all finished. Echo sets his jaw. "We're not going to fail," he says. They can't fail. "Fives died for this."
Rex chuffs a hopeless laugh. "I know," he says hoarsely. His voice cracks. "It just reminds me of Umbara."
Rex looks absolutely gutted. Echo almost asks – almost – and then resolves to have Tech find him the file later. "I'm here," he says softly, and watches Rex shutter up and close off.
"You're going to need access to the Senate," Rex says. He hesitates, calculating.
"Commander Fox," Echo says for him.
Rex makes a face. "He's a straight shooter," he says. "I just don't know how well he'll take to the idea."
"We have evidence."
"It's all circumstantial. There's nothing solid linking the Chancellor to the chips." Rex drags his hands down his face and blows out a breath. He looks as exhausted as Echo feels. "We might have to chance it."
"We could come up with a cover."
"We're going to need him," Rex says. "For more than just this mission."
If – when – they prove the Chancellor's involvement, it'll implicate him in enormous acts of treason. He'll be a traitor to the Republic. They'll need Fox's Guard to arrest him. "He's still our brother," Echo says. "That has to mean something."
"It will. It's just…it's a lot to ask of anyone. Especially after Fives."
It's achingly silent for a moment.
"I miss him," Echo says quietly.
Rex's eyes are haunted.
"Yeah," he says. "Me too."
It's too quiet.
Fox spent the first weeks after the chip's removal working to recover from all of the damage it did to sleep and sanity alike. He wishes he could ask Exon for a plan: the man has saved more lives than he can count and overseen more recoveries than he cares to think about.
But they transferred Exon. They're probably monitoring Exon. If Fox contacts him, he'll put Exon in danger too.
So he sleeps and he spends every waking moment looking over his shoulder. The first week passes – no one puts a bag over his head in the middle of the night and drags him out of his quarters. No one comms him. There is no unusual summons.
Hygiene. Gear up. Get to work. For four months, it's the same old routine.
Until it isn't.
Getting called to the Chancellor's office isn't unusual. It's getting called to the Chancellor's office alone that makes his hair stand on end.
Fox sits on the edge of his bed for a long time after the message comes through. Then he very slowly gets to his feet and palms open the top drawer on his dresser. In the very back is a hidden compartment.
As far as contingencies go, it's not the best. But if he doesn't make it back, if he's walking into a trap, hopefully Fives will think to check his quarters for his final signs. On Kamino, the clones had a habit of stashing contraband anywhere they could manage it. It shouldn't be too hard for Fives to find.
Fox closes his eyes and takes a breath.
It's time.
He doesn't remember the walk there: it's rote and numb, mechanical and automatic. Fox finds himself staring at the grand entrance to the Supreme Chancellor's office and takes a moment to square his shoulders and heave a long and measured breath. Palpatine can't know for sure that he's had his chip removed: maybe he just assumes it's finally gone dead and can't be transmitted to at all.
Fox knocks.
"Come in, please."
Fox palms the door open, steps inside, and snaps to attention. "Sir," he bites off.
Palpatine's features are kindly. He looks like someone's elderly relative as they were depicted in the Familiarization With Civilian Familial Structure module they were assigned to complete as children on Kamino. It's the face of someone's grandfather.
It's the face of a traitor.
"Commander, I want to commend your handling of the Ubese delegation," Palpatine says. "I understand they were most difficult to work with."
"They wanted to refuse diplomatic escort," Fox says. "With the threats that were made against the Senator, I disagreed."
"Yes, and you thwarted a would-be assassin." Palpatine's mouth curves into a small smile that, for all of its sincerity, makes Fox uneasy. "Very good work indeed."
"My men, sir."
"I beg your pardon?"
"My men apprehended the assassin," Fox says. "I was at the command center, overseeing the operation."
"Surely your contribution was just as significant." Palpatine's smile widens a fraction. Fox suppresses a flinch.
"No, sir. I—"
"Commander Fox," Palpatine chides, "you underestimate your own importance. Your role is a critical one. Without you, where would your force of peacekeepers be? For that matter, where would Coruscant be? You are taking dangerous criminals off our streets. That is no small feat."
"Thank you, sir."
"Which brings me, I'm afraid, to the primary purpose for your visit."
"Sir?"
"Doctor Ryl notified me that you have skipped no less than six medical evaluations," Palpatine says. "That is simply unacceptable."
Fox stares blankly at him. When did Ryl request he be evaluated? There's nothing on his datapad. There's nothing on his comm. If there had been, he wouldn't have just skipped the appointment: he would have, in no uncertain terms, refused to spend even a second with that di'kutla 'doctor.'
Palpatine clearly expects an answer. His eyes narrow. "I've been very busy, sir," Fox says haltingly. "I'm afraid I didn't have time for the evaluations."
"Your health and continued service are of paramount importance to me," the Chancellor says firmly. "Ryl also informed me that you had been experiencing headaches for which you sought the clone medic Exon's expertise. He recommended treatment, but there is no record anywhere of this treatment being carried out. Can you explain this to me, Commander?"
He never told Exon he was having headaches.
"No, sir," Fox says. His heart is pounding. He remembers Fives.
Palpatine's eyes crinkle kindly. "My dear Commander, you will not be able to keep Coruscant safe if you allow your own health to deteriorate. I must insist that you submit to an immediate evaluation. Allow Doctor Ryl to devise a treatment plan for you. Don't suffer needlessly."
They transferred Exon after Fox asked him for help – after he made a record of Fox's symptoms. After he suggested a level five atomic brain scan.
That's exactly what the underworld contact used to detect the chip for removal.
"I don't think that's necessary, Chancellor," Fox says past the tightness in his throat. "The headaches were temporary. Probably due to a virus. I'm fully recovered, sir."
Palpatine's eyebrows arch elegantly. "Let me make clear that this is not a suggestion. You will report to Doctor Ryl for an evaluation. The wellbeing of all the citizens on Coruscant is in your hands. Without you, they would be in graver danger than they know."
"Sir—"
Palpatine holds up a hand. "I won't hear it," he says. "You are absolutely irreplaceable, Commander. We can't afford to have you at anything less than your best."
For a second, Fox forgets how to breathe. Palpatine rises from his desk and crosses the distance between them. "My Senate Guard has been summoned to escort you to a transport," he says, putting an arm around Fox's shoulders and guiding him to the door. "They'll make sure you are well taken care of."
"Sir, my men," Fox says. "I have to notify them that I will be taking a leave of medical absence. There are orders I have to—"
"I assure you, your men will be looked after." Palpatine's tone broaches no argument. "I want you to focus on getting well, Commander."
"I am well, sir," Fox shoots back. There's no desperation to his tone, but it's there, in his chest, there, in his veins: pulsing, pounding adrenaline. Is this how Fives felt?
"Ignoring your health is not a sign of wellness," Palpatine admonishes. He palms the door open. As he promised, his Elite Senate Guard stands at the ready. There are too many to take alone, or at least without creating a commotion and bringing the rest of the Senate guards down on him. They'd call for backup: summon the Coruscant Guard.
He can't shoot another brother.
"I'm fine, sir," Fox says. "I have a job to do."
"Yes, Commander," Palpatine says, withdrawing. He folds his hands in front of him, the picture of placidity. His smile is still plastered in place but it feels colder; a shiver runs down Fox's spine. "You do."
The Senate Guards close around him. Fox's heart is going to explode out of his chest. He follows them to the transport. They sit on either side of him. The transport lifts off; it should be a short journey from the Senate chambers to the base.
One minute passes. Two. Three.
"Base medical is the other way," Fox says.
"We have orders to admit you to the Grand Republic Medical Facility," the Guard's Captain says calmly. "Sit tight. We'll be there before you know it."
The Grand Republic Medical Facility is where they took Tup. Where Palpatine framed Fives.
If Palpatine is having him admitted to make his chip functional, the staff will discover in very short order that there's nothing present to repair. Then what? Implant a new chip? Recondition him to make sure he knows absolutely nothing about the conspiracy? Fox clenches his teeth.
Reconditioning is a scare tactic they use on Kamino: they tell clone trainees to keep in line, keep excelling, or you'll be sent to the reconditioning chamber and someone else will come out. Fox never knew anyone who met that end but he heard whispers about it from other platoons.
It feels less like a ghost story when he's slated for the same fate.
The Grand Republic Medical Facility looms on the horizon, a towering silver structure that stands out despite the equally grandiose buildings surrounding it. The transport touches down. The Captain nudges him with his staff, a warning and a cue.
They lead Fox inside. There's a team already waiting to receive him. Fox sweeps his gaze across them and freezes.
"CC-1010," Nala Se says. She inclines her head at him and blinks, once. Fox wants to reach for his pistols. His hands twitch at his sides. "I understand you are experiencing difficulties. Do not be alarmed. I will ensure that these issues are resolved as quickly as possible so that you may return to your duties."
The Senate Guards escort him to an examination chamber. "Remove your armor and don the provided fatigues, CC-1010," Nala Se says. "I will return after I have completed the necessary authorization for your admittance to this facility. It is not customary for clones to receive treatment here."
The door hisses shut behind her. Fox hears the lock click into place.
All right. Options.
If he stays, then they run the brain scan and discover he's had his chip removed. Maybe they assume he knows about the conspiracy. Maybe they don't care about if or how much. They replace the chip. They recondition him to keep the conspiracy airtight.
If he leaves, they know he knows something for sure. They hunt him down. They dig deeper. They don't stop looking. They're on high alert. Whatever they're planning to unleash goes forward in full force, maybe sooner than originally planned.
A lot of people die – clone and Jedi alike.
The only advantage he has is that they don't know about Fives.
Fox changes into the fatigues and perches on the edge of the bed with his helmet in his hands.
Why is Nala Se here? Why now? Why wait four months to bring him in? Were they watching all this time, trying to trigger his chip? Was Nala Se unavailable until recently, occupied with her duties on Kamino and unable to make the intergalactic trip? Or are they planning to launch their plan sooner rather than later and need to activate his role immediately?
You are absolutely irreplaceable. You have a job to do. It's too specific to be a coincidence, but maybe Palpatine was probing, trying to see if he'd betray what he knew.
Fox groans and drops his forehead to his helmet.
He has no way to warn Fives: if Fox had no reliable way to contact him, then Palpatine would have no reliable way to track him. It seemed like a good idea at the time.
It's been four months – and not a word.
He better still be alive.
Fox's datapad is back in his quarters at the barracks; even if he had it with him, he wouldn't be able to leave Fives a message on it. After they put him into reconditioning, he has no doubt they'll dispatch a small team to his quarters and storage locker to wipe every device down. Anything he left for Fives would only be suspect – would only tell them he had a partner.
The contingency will have to hold.
Damn this entire shabla plan.
If he stays, he dies. If he leaves, Fives might.
If Fives is even still alive.
The door's lock clicks open. Fox breathes, breathes, and raises his head just as Nala Se steps into the room. She's flanked by a security squad, just Republic citizens, not clones. "It is time for your evaluation, CC-1010," she says, already turning away. "If you would follow me."
As if he has a choice.
Fox loses track of the scans and tests, though he's sure most of it is for show. There's only one that really matters: the one Exon was going to run. The one that Fives used to discover the chips.
He knows the moment the result comes back. He knows the moment they know.
Nala Se stiffens. "I see," she says, an even monotone. She taps away at her screen for a few more minutes. Fox makes himself remember to breathe.
Kaminoans are usually hard to get a read on. In that moment, when Nala Se locks her gaze with his, Fox has never found it easier. He knows what's coming. And she knows he knows. "We will need to run a few more tests, but it appears as though you will need a more advanced procedure to treat the issue," she says, and he gets the sense she's waiting for him to panic over her lie, to thrash and swing at the guards and make a break for the door.
No new chip. Just a clean slate.
Fox considers, for a brief and desperate moment, running the way Nala Se expects him to, thinks about throwing himself into the line of fire and going out fighting instead of lying down. "What's wrong with me?" he asks, to keep up appearances and to push the idea from his mind. His chest aches.
Fives is still alive.
"Nothing that can't be easily remedied," Nala Se says. She turns her attention to the guards. "Escort CC-1010 to Chamber Zero-Five-One. I will join you momentarily."
"What's Chamber Zero-Five-One?" Fox asks. The guards haul him to his feet. He fights not to swing at them for touching him. Fights to go quietly. Fights not to fight.
Fives is still alive.
"It is a reconditioning chamber," Nala Se says impassively, like she hasn't just told him he's being sent to his death. "You are defective, CC-1010, and require a complete neural reset."
Memory wipe. Memory implantation. New imprints. New perceptions.
New person.
"I need reconditioning because I had a few headaches?"
"You require reconditioning because you have removed your aggression inhibitor. That is unacceptable. You will continue to malfunction without it."
"Hang on, I removed my what—"
Nala Se doesn't acknowledge him. The door slides aside and the guards drag him through. Fox doesn't swing, doesn't lash out.
But he's not about to make it easy.
The chamber is large and silver and cold. There are two long rows of stasis chambers. Fox's heart twists in his chest. The guards press him into the closest pod; while they're strapping him in, while they're shaving his head and fitting leads to his skull, he thinks of Fives, willing to die to save the others – willing to give his life to help Rex see through all the lies.
Fives is still alive.
It has to be isolated.
It has to be Fox.
If they think he's a second outlier, the clone commander with the faulty control chip, then they won't bother to look any further than they absolutely have to. They have no reason to believe he told anyone else. They have no reason to believe he didn't act alone. They have no reason to believe he had any clue what's really going on.
Fives is still alive. Fives still has a chance to save the others. Save Rex and Cody and Exon and the Guard.
"Test the connection."
The mass of leads wired to his head buzz. Fox does his best not to flinch. There's a lump in his throat. He swallows past it, pressing his eyes closed and focusing on one breath, two – another and another, again and again. Open your hand. Close it. Open your hand. Close it. Repeat. Remember your training. Repeat.
Repeat.
"I have established a connection. Close the pod."
The pod hisses, whirring hydraulics. Fox's breath catches, stutters. He coughs to clear it.
Just breathe.
"Beginning reconditioning sequence for CC-1010."
Fives is still alive.
Fives has to be alive.
"Ret'urcye mhi ner'vod," Fox whispers hoarsely.
There's an icy chill. There's a burning pain.
Then there's nothing at all.