In a brownish blur the padawan fell. Another shot pierced her back, then her head, just to be sure. He could only see a corner of her face.
"What's the matter? Rex?"
The hushed but sharp voice cut into his mind, out of place amongst the blaster fire and familiar, pained voices. Someone grabbed his arm and he thrashed to get away.
"Wake up, Rex!" The hand shook him; his eyes opened to a dark ceiling and a familiar face.
"Wha—Cody?" Rex gasped.
"Yeah."
All at once the dream fell away, swallowed into the recesses of his mind, and he remembered: He was back on Coruscant. The battle was over.
"What's the matter with you?" Cody whispered roughly from where he stood by Rex's bunk, but he didn't look angry. "All this tossing around's not helping me get any sleep, you know."
Rex looked around the command barracks; everyone lay quiet.
"Sorry," Rex said, and sat up, rubbing his aching head. He was still breathing a little faster than he should have. "What… what time is it?"
"About oh-four-hundred hours," Cody shrugged. "Are you okay now?"
Rex nodded, although really, he felt sick. He felt flooded with an intense darkness, one continuing to surround him despite his wakefulness like a pack of menacing shadows in the night.
Cody looked at him skeptically, arms folded. "Do I need to take you to a medic?"
"I'm fine." Rex sighed and lay back down. "Go back to sleep. Aren't you shipping out tomorrow?"
"Yeah. Ord Radama." He heard Cody sit down on the lower bunk. "And you?"
Rex breathed, trying to focus on reality and not on the images of Jedi dying—of feeling in himself an overwhelming imperative he couldn't consciously accept, but was helpless to disobey. Tup's voice ricocheted around in his skull. Good soldiers follow orders.
Rex shuddered, but spoke calmly. "I think we're being held in reserve for the attack on Xagobah… as soon as you and the other fleets break through. I'll be meeting with General Skywalker to discuss everything."
He hadn't been summoned to any such meeting, but he knew one would be necessary. He couldn't go to Xagobah with this hanging over him, not without at least trying to talk to the general again. And hopefully there would be some news of the conditions of Tup and Fives.
"Well then. I'll see you at the victory celebration afterward," said Cody confidently.
"Yeah."
"Hmm. What's with that tone of voice?" Cody said. "You don't think we'll win? Have a little confidence in the Jedi's plan."
"I'm sure they all know what they're doing," Rex said to the ceiling. "I didn't mean it like that."
"You're worried about the men, then," Cody guessed, voice low.
Rex knew he didn't have to say anything more. Cody had read him as well as he could have, under the circumstances.
He jumped when Cody's face appeared next to his again. Cody jerked his head toward the door.
"Hey. Let's go for a walk."
"At oh-four-hundred hours?" Rex came up on one elbow. "I thought you wanted to sleep."
"Just a short one. We can talk without waking anyone else."
Cody stood back to let him get down off the top bunk, and together they crept toward the hallway. The door's opening and closing was all too loud, but once they were on the other side, Rex already felt a little better.
"I'd be pretty shook up too if one of my men tried to kill a Jedi," Cody said immediately. "Heard anything more about this virus?"
"Not yet." Rex headed left. "I didn't realize you knew about it."
Cody fell into step beside him. "I'm pretty sure the news was passed to all the commanding officers. Why wouldn't it be?"
Rex shrugged. "I guess I hoped there wouldn't be any need to warn everybody else. But I am glad that the Jedi are taking this seriously."
"They don't really have a choice, do they? After all, it was a Jedi Tup killed."
"Yeah." Rex swallowed.
The corridor was so quiet and empty. It felt a bit surreal, just him and Cody in a dim hallway with only their footsteps and voices. But safe.
"I asked General Skywalker to send me back to Kamino," Rex said, before he could hesitate. "Fives stayed behind because the doctors said Tup might have infected him. I figured… if he's at risk, then so am I."
"And… General Skywalker said no?" Cody asked.
"He said we wait for a sign that something's wrong." Rex glanced at Cody's concerned look and sighed. "I don't know why I'm telling you this. It's not like…." It's not like they didn't go out to battle every day, knowing either one of them might not survive.
"This isn't like anything we've ever faced before," said Cody. His tone said he understood.
Rex glanced over again. Cody looked back at him simply; no avoidance, no questioning.
"I prefer my enemies where I can see them." Rex raised a hand as if aiming his pistol between the eyes of some invisible battle droid. But then he just stared at his palm. "We're always supposed to be prepared for anything they can throw at us."
"Sounds like you've already decided what you have to do," said Cody. "Can't be much more prepared than that."
"Right." The thought of his conversation with Jesse and Kix was chilling and comforting at the same time. And if the worst happened, and they were all infected… at least they would know their termination in that case would be just and necessary, not an execution at the whim of a madman.
He heard Cody take a deep breath next to him and wondered if they shared a similar train of thought. They walked in silence for a few more minutes, and Rex tried to find something else to think about.
"So. Ord Radama," Rex finally said. "Isn't that a swamp planet? I know how you hate swamps."
"Yeah," Cody shrugged. "It's all been paved over by cities now though, so… unless the separatists decide to hide in the muck, it won't be so bad. Then again, knowing General Kenobi… we'll end up enlisting some giant swamp snake in a sneak attack."
"Wouldn't surprise me," Rex agreed.
"That's the thing about General Kenobi," said Cody, smirking. "He's just as creative as General Skywalker, but without all the mess."
"Heh. What mess? You didn't see General Skywalker back on Ringo Vinda. That was one of the most well-coordinated attacks I have seen this entire war. Even after fighting for days straight, our casualties were much less than the other generals had. I mean… that is, until…."
"Does General Skywalker usually listen to you?" Cody broke in, saving Rex from having to finish the thought.
"What? Yeah… why?"
"Just wondering."
Rex stared at Cody, curious about what spurred this train of thought. "Does General Kenobi usually listen to you?"
"More often than not." Cody's tone was satisfied. "He respects my opinion. We're… good friends, you might say."
"We got lucky," Rex said gravely, thinking back on how leniently Skywalker had reacted to his outburst outside Master Yoda's quarters. Some other captain might not have been given such free rein by his Jedi general. Most other Jedi might not hate clones like General Krell had, but Rex had his doubts that all Jedi respected clones as well as Skywalker and Kenobi did.
"Yes… we got lucky," Cody agreed. "I'm sure General Skywalker is doing what he thinks is best, keeping you on the front lines, but I'll admit… I wonder what General Kenobi would say if you asked him what to do."
"Who knows?" Rex said evenly. "I'm not his responsibility. And I could never go behind my general's back like that."
"Oh, I wasn't suggesting anything," said Cody. "I just think I got the better Jedi."
"Well," said Rex. "I'm just glad General Skywalker and General Kenobi work together so often."
"I'm with you there," Cody agreed, briefly gripping his shoulder. "Wish you were coming to Ord Radama. I've got a feeling we're gonna need all the help we can get."
They reached a fork in the hall and paused. The silence swallowed them again, and Rex's dreams throbbed in the back of his head.
"Guess we should head back," Rex sighed.
"You sure?" Cody looked unconvinced by Rex's tone. "That wasn't much of a walk. I could go around the whole way." The left hallway would eventually lead them back to the command barracks
Rex smiled a little despite himself. "Well… why not?"
"We do need to sleep eventually, but, you know," Cody waved a hand. "Just sometime. It won't take us ten minutes to lap this."
"We're just adding some extra security," Rex agreed.
"Exactly. Who needs armor?"
"Or weapons." As Rex laughed gratefully under his breath, he thought suddenly of Cut Lawquane, the deserter who had a wife and children and a farm somewhere on Saleucami. He thought of what he'd said to him as they'd parted to their separate lives. Rex really knew very little of family in the traditional sense, but as he and Cody walked close together down these quiet hallways, Rex just couldn't find it in himself to believe that anyone felt more strongly about their family than he did for his.
He would gladly give his life to protect them. And not just Cody, although they were especially close… there were so many of his brothers who would do—and had already done—the same. He could name them in strings of dozens if he wanted to. Hundreds, by now. And for those who were still fighting, who supported each other not only on the physical battlefield, but like this, on the battlefield of an unspoken nightmare, he would never let those nightmares come true. He would never stand by again, closing his eyes as his family was turned against itself by some twisted force, fooling himself into believing he was helpless.
…
The wind was rarely too strong on Coruscant, or too cold. More often, it was tepid and restless, rippling out from the lanes of rushing air traffic. Rex squinted against the glint of Skywalker's speeder as he landed. The general beckoned him over without getting out of the craft.
Rex jogged across to him.
"Morning, Captain Rex," Skywalker said, twisting in the driver's seat to face him. "I thought since you requested a private meeting, we could take a drive. We're not likely to be overheard that way."
"Very good, General," Rex said, and jumped neatly into the passenger seat. Skywalker had left the engine running, and pulled the shuttle up and away before Rex could say anything more.
Once they had settled into the flow of traffic, Skywalker left one hand on the steering and looked over at Rex. "Alright, so what's this all about?"
"Before I explain, sir, I was wondering if you've heard any news about Tup's condition."
"Right," Skywalker grimaced. "I have been trying to get through to Kamino, but they just keep telling me not to worry. All I know is that Fives and Tup are being kept under strict quarantine until a cure can be found."
"That's good news, sir," Rex said, although a more substantial update would have been nice. "I'd like to repeat my request that I be sent back to Kamino as soon as possible."
"Oh yeah? Has something changed that I should know about?" Skywalker didn't look pleased.
"Not… exactly, General. It just seems like the smart thing to do."
Skywalker narrowed his eyes, his hair whipping as he swerved the speeder into another lane. "You're pretty insistent about this. It's not like you to fight against my orders."
"I mean no disrespect, sir. But I do have a responsibility to my men."
"Yes you do: a responsibility to lead them. Are you saying your ability to do that has been compromised?"
"No, sir. Not yet." Rex frowned. "But… have you given any more thought to whether this is related to your vision?"
"I have." Skywalker narrowly avoided a traffic jam by detouring down a narrow alley. "I hate to say it, but the way Tup was acting isn't anything like what I saw in my dream. You seemed fully aware of your actions. I'm not saying it isn't related… it very well could be. But Master Yoda says that sometimes if we try too hard to prevent the future we see, it becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy."
"I would request to be sent to Kamino even if you hadn't had your vision, sir. This is a serious threat regardless of how it might relate to me specifically. Do you really want to risk being shot down by one of your own men?"
"General Tiplar didn't have any warning. I do. That'll be enough to prevent it from happening again."
Rex fell silent. He didn't know what more he could do to convince the general; stating the obvious never worked once Skywalker had made up his mind on something.
They drove for several minutes before the general glanced over at him again.
"Was there anything else you wanted to tell me, Rex?" Skywalker's tone was almost parental. "Or will I have to keep wondering what's making you take this so personally?"
If he said no, he would be agreeing not to bring this up again. Rex hesitated.
"You're not the worrying type. There has to be something else on your mind. If you know something more, you need to tell me."
"It's nothing, sir," Rex sighed, staring out at the city. "I've just been having some bad dreams of my own, that's all."
"What do you mean?" Skywalker's voice slowed with seriousness. "What kind of dreams?"
"Just combat dreams." Rex kept his tone casual. "You know… but they've been a lot worse ever since Ringo Vinda. A lot more… specific…."
"Describe them to me," Anakin demanded.
Rex looked over. "Is… that an order, General?"
"Yes, it is."
"I'd rather not, sir."
Skywalker looked alarmed. "Rex, I never have to repeat orders to you. These dreams can't possibly be worse than anything we've already lived through in this war."
Rex looked down at his hands. "You'd be surprised, sir."
"Look. You can tell me about these nightmares, or we can head to the Jedi Temple right now and have one of the Jedi Masters ask you about them."
Of all the things Skywalker could have threatened, he just had to pick the very worst.
"That won't be necessary, General," Rex said uncomfortably.
The general waited for him to gather his thoughts. Rex didn't even know how to begin.
"They're usually… pretty vague, anyway," he fumbled. "Screams, people dying… but there aren't any droids. It's all people."
"Just random people? Or people you know?"
"People I know."
Rex's elbow was resting on the side of the speeder. He lifted his hand and rubbed his forehead, closing his eyes.
"Like who?"
Rex took a deep breath.
"Jedi."
There, it was out. Just saying those two syllables set a hot current of nausea through his body like an electrical shock.
"And you're not able to hold back the enemy?" Skywalker's voice was low, barely audible over the wind of their speed. "You're trapped watching them die."
"No, sir," Rex said shakily. "You don't understand. It's worse than that. I'm not the one defending the Jedi. I'm the one killing them."
A few seconds of chilled silence passed before Rex, feeling physically ill, forced himself to look at the general.
Skywalker glanced back at him with an unreadable look before pulling the speeder suddenly into an open parking space.
"Do you think you're seeing the future?" Skywalker spoke with hushed intensity as soon as they'd come to a complete stop.
"If I am," Rex said, "I'd rather not live to see it."
"But does it feel like the dream means anything?"
"No, sir." Rex swallowed, ashamed. "I'm sure it has to do with what happened to Tup. Seeing him kill General Tiplar like that… it… it must have triggered something."
"You said you have these dreams a lot?"
"Yes, sir. But not this clearly."
"But it's always Jedi?"
Rex squeezed his eyes shut. "Yes."
"Was it anyone specific this time?"
"Yes."
"Who was it?" Skywalker stared at him so intently it was almost a glare, and after a few awful seconds, Rex couldn't keep eye contact. "Rex."
"I'm sorry, sir," he said tightly. "I'm not trying to disobey orders—"
"Just answer the question. A name. Any name."
Rex glanced desperately around to make sure there was no one near. The platform they were idling next to was empty.
"Spit it out!"
"General Kenobi. It was General Kenobi." Rex stole a painful glimpse of Skywalker's disturbed expression before he continued in a defeated whisper. "And… you as well, General. Both of you. And Commander Tano."
"Ahsoka too?" Skywalker stared at Rex, shock and disgust plain on his face.
Rex nodded mutely and swallowed the nausea in his throat.
"What kind of weapon were you using?"
"Sir?" Rex hardly thought that was important.
"What kind?" Skywalker repeated.
"My DC-17s, I think." Rex shut his eyes, miserably trying to remember details even though that was the last thing he wanted to do. "Yeah. Some kind of blaster, anyway. Why?"
"Not a lightsaber," Skywalker murmured. "But that doesn't necessarily mean anything."
"General… I don't think my dreams have anything to do with seeing the future. How could they? I'm not a Jedi. I don't think clones can have prophetic visions."
"The Force is a part of every living thing," Skywalker said half to himself, staring at his hands gripping the steering wheel. "It influences everything, whether we realize it or not… the only difference is that a Jedi is aware of the flow of the Force, and can make use of it. The will of the Force is the will of the universe for everything in it. That definitely includes clones."
"Unfortunately," Rex muttered, "I don't find that thought very reassuring right now."
"No one is immune from the lure of the Dark Side, Rex. Every Jedi can feel it, but we're not the only ones who can fall." For a moment the general looked uncomfortable in a different way, but then he focused back on Rex. "You did the right thing, telling me about this. But I'm not going to send you to Kamino. At least, not yet."
"But, sir—!"
Anakin held up a hand to silence him. "I…." he looked conflicted. "I will talk to the Council about this."
Rex grimaced and looked away. The last thing he wanted was for the details of his… deficiency… to be advertised in front of the entire Jedi Council.
"The Kaminoans are doing their own research on Tup and Fives already. Sending you there isn't going to help find a cure for this virus faster, and anyway," Anakin glanced at Rex, "we both know something more sinister might be at work here. I think the Jedi will want to do their own tests."
Rex took a deep breath.
Anakin continued. "If there's any chance my vision and your dream are related… we've got to get to the bottom of this." The general lifted the speeder up to swing back toward the barracks.
Rex stayed silent and focused on the way the wind pressed into his skin, struggling to dispel the awful suffocating feeling that gripped him in the chest. He had never paid much attention to his dreams, knowing they were too awful to ever come true—dreams were illogical and people and places were often very different from their counterparts in reality. But the mere suggestion that such nightmares could mean something was enough to change the feeling surrounding the images into something much more incriminating.
If Tup could kill a Jedi, maybe anything was possible.
By the time Skywalker pulled onto the barracks' landing pad, Rex had managed to calm down a bit simply by reminding himself over and over that worrying never won any battles.
"I will contact you once the Council has made a decision," Skywalker said. "In the meantime, try to limit your contact with others."
"I will continue to, sir," Rex said, feeling slightly guilty about his impromptu walk with Cody. Rex climbed out onto the platform and turned to salute goodbye. "And I know you and the Council will do what's best for the Republic."
Skywalker's face, which had been set in a grim mask the whole drive back, relaxed slightly. "The fact that you're so concerned about these dreams makes me feel pretty confident that you would never betray the Republic on your own. So let's just hope we can figure out the enemy's plan in time to stop them."
"Believe me, sir," Rex said gruffly. "If the enemy plans to use me against you, they won't succeed."
The general said nothing to that. He just stared searchingly at Rex for a long moment, before he pulled the speeder up and away into the air.
…
"Rex! Come in, Captain." Skywalker's voice came urgently through Rex's communicator just as he was about to clean up for the night.
Rex snapped up the communicator. "What is it, General?"
"There's been a report that Fives tried to assassinate Chancellor Palpatine. I want you to order the Five-Oh-First to—"
Around the zinging chill down his spine, Rex forced himself to focus on the rest of the order.
"—the search. He was last seen running in the general direction of the barracks. If we find him first, we can make sure he's brought in alive for questioning!"
"Yes, sir." Rex said, thinking fast. "I'll meet up with you at the transit terminal on the southwest corner of sector H. He'll probably have to pass through there if he's trying to get away on foot."
"I'll see you there. Get your men moving!"
Ten minutes later, Rex was in armor and dividing his troops via comm to systematically comb as much of the area surrounding the Senate district as they could. As his speeder bike tore through the night, his dread hardened into resolve. He gripped the controls tightly. This was it. Fives was already lost to this virus or whatever it was. Rex knew he was next. He probably only had a matter of hours left.
When he and the half-dozen men who accompanied him landed on the terminal, the crowds were thick. The night was young and the city residents had a few hours to go before things really died down.
"Spread out," Rex ordered them, splitting them off to right and left with quick hand signals. "Check the ID of every clone you see!" He put his hands on his pistols but didn't draw them as he watched his men disperse. The low whine of another speeder came up behind him, and he turned to see Skywalker hopping out.
"Any sign of him?" the general asked.
"No, sir. When did Fives arrive on Coruscant?"
"Less than an hour ago."
"And Tup?" Rex asked, although he thought he knew.
"He's dead. Master Shaak Ti and the Kaminoan doctor brought Fives here so he could be examined at the hospital." Skywalker led Rex behind a glass platform partition and sighed roughly. "Fives seems to be having delusions that the Jedi created some kind of conspiracy, and that that's why Tup died. The chancellor wanted to talk to him about it and find out if there was any truth to his claims… and that's when Fives snapped and tried to kill him."
"I see," Rex said calmly. "Have you mentioned my case to the Council yet?"
"No," Anakin said. "I haven't had the opportunity."
Rex said nothing, a cold, sick certainty settling into his nerves. He pressed his hands down on the handles of his pistols, feeling their reassuring weight on his belt.
"I know what you're thinking, Rex," Skywalker said warningly. "But there's still a chance to find a cure if we can catch Fives and figure out what's going on!"
"No, General," Rex said firmly. "We are out of time. If Fives has snapped, I could go the same way any minute. I'm turning myself in for termination. Once you catch Fives… hopefully, between the two of us, the doctors will find enough information to prevent anyone else from ending up this way."
"What?" Skywalker gasped out a shocked breath, almost a laugh. "You can't do that, Rex! You don't even know yet that Fives is infected!" His voice started to rise. "He could be acting of his own free will!"
"No!" Rex repeated. "I know Fives. He would never do this, sir, not without this virus affecting him. He would never try to harm the chancellor! He was a good soldier—a good man!"
"You're talking like he's dead already," Skywalker said, his voice straining with forced patience. "We might still be able to save him, but in order to do that I need you to help me find him! You can't just run off and ask the Kaminoans to kill you! How is that supposed to help anything?!"
"The longer I wait, the greater the chance of spreading this to the rest of the men!" Rex took in the crowd with a swift jerk of his arm.
"But we don't know anything yet! What if you were never even infected? Fives could have gotten sick after you left him on Kamino!"
"Sterilization procedures would never have allowed that, sir. They would have been separately quarantined." Rex shook his head and turned his back to the general, drawing his pistols although his men reported no threat. "No, General. I've accepted the truth of the situation, and I will do what is necessary. You've got to accept it, too. You're a Jedi, sir. I know you understand situations like this."
"Jedi act from an understanding of principles, not from fear and supposition!" Skywalker growled. "And I am not going to let you do something this drastic on a guess!"
"We can't hesitate, sir." Rex couldn't keep the pointed weight out of his voice. "Hesitation gets people killed. We've seen that proven over and over on the battlefield. We have been trained to sacrifice our lives if necessary, for the good of the team, and the Republic. Why is this any different?"
"Because this is suicide you're talking about!" The general shoved him lightly on the chest. Rex caught himself and stood firmly, unintimidated. "Don't you value your own life? At least enough to ask for a diagnosis instead of a lethal injection?!"
"I do value my life, General," Rex said quietly. "As much as you value yours. As much as every one of these men values his own life—and that is why I have to do this. Because I'm no different from them, and my life is definitely not worth more than the lives of ten, of a hundred or a thousand or a million of theirs!"
Skywalker pulled himself up to his full height, his face contorting in a quick series of conflicted emotion. For a moment Rex thought he was going to see sense. But then the general shook his head.
"Look. I understand what you're trying to say, but you're a valuable captain, Rex, and you're avoiding your duty! You are not just another clone—men like you don't come along every day. I wasn't kidding when I said I need you with me. No one else can do your job like you can."
The general's voice had gone low, pulling at him with sincerity instead of outrage. It was just another tactic, a desperate one.
"I'm sorry, sir, but that is simply not true." Rex looked past the general, scanning the crowd and keeping a mental note on his men's locations. "I've worked with many fine officers, and any one of them could serve you just as well. As for tonight, I've assigned Singer to lead the Five-Hundred-First in the search for Fives once I'm gone."
"Once you're gone," Skywalker muttered disgustedly under his breath. "I can't believe you're willing to throw your life away so lightly. I expect better from you, Rex. But it doesn't matter… you're still under my command, and I order you to forget about this death-wish of yours and stick with the search until we've located Fives!"
Rex opened his mouth and had to clench his jaw against the "yes, sir," that instinctively waited at the back of his throat. He looked around at the crowd—his men had moved on—and thought of Fives out there, this madness killing him slowly, driving him on a desperate run through the underbelly of Coruscant. When his eyes settled again on Skywalker's smugly commanding face, he felt the sickness from his dream, and the hurt and anger rose in his throat and came tumbling out in a quick, tight growl before he could stop them.
"I don't have a death-wish! No clone wants to throw his life away! Maybe you forget that, sir. Maybe everyone does—because we are all the same, we're expendable, and generals like Krell only see us as cannon fodder! The casualties—the number of dead clones—in this war keeps climbing by the hundreds, by the thousands some days! If every general allowed their clone commanders to seek the most strategic route instead of using them as a human shield like we were battle droids, those numbers would be much fewer. It's not us who are reckless with our lives, General! It's not us who throw them away lightly!"
Rex took a sharp breath to stop himself from saying any more. Skywalker's stern, commanding expression had crumbled into dismay. His arms were limp at his sides.
"Rex… do you really believe I think of you like that?"
Rex took a few steps away and steeled himself to apologize for his outburst, but Skywalker went on in a saddened tone.
"Haven't I proven that I care about my men as individuals? You're not just weapons to me… none of you are."
Rex lifted his head and looked at him steadily, remembering what Master Yoda had said about the general's weaknesses. "I'm sorry, General. I have always admired you. Every time we entered the battlefield, I knew I could trust you with the lives of my company. No war is without its casualties, but you were always looking for ways to limit them. And I thank you for that. I know the Five-Hundred-First will continue to be in good hands when I'm gone."
Skywalker clenched his fists. "Rex… do not do this." He said it like an order, but Rex heard it as a plea.
"Sorry, sir. If you try to stop me, I'll do it myself."
Rex raised his right hand; his grip on the pistol was firm, and he felt oddly calm. Skywalker's face took on a wild look.
"Rex!" The general shouted, and reached out a hand to pull the pistol away, but at that moment, a beep sounded loudly in Rex's ear. It was coming from his wrist communicator.
"Captain Rex?" A clone's voice came from the other end.
Rex lowered the gun so he could speak into the communicator, but he kept his left hand raised.
"This is Rex."
"This is Kix. I have a message for you. Are you alone? Is anyone else listening?"
"It's just me and General Skywalker. What is it?" Rex kept his voice low.
"It's Fives," Kix's voice sounded uneasy even over the communicator. "I ran into him a few seconds ago. He wants to meet with you and General Skywalker immediately. You can't bring any other troops with you… said he had something important to tell you, sir."
"Where is he now?" Skywalker came close so he could speak to Kix as well. "Were you able to capture him?"
"No, General." There was a moment of silence on the link. "I… I let him go. I understand there will be consequences for that, sir. I accept full responsibility for my actions."
"Why didn't you stop him?" Skywalker demanded. "We have to find him so the Jedi Council can question him before anyone else interferes!"
"I'm sorry, sir. Fives said he's being framed! He was talking about some kind of conspiracy against the Jedi. But he left before I could get him to explain anything else…."
Rex looked at the general, alarmed. "Conspiracy against the Jedi?" he breathed.
"I told him to turn himself in, but he said he wanted to talk to you first, General. You and Captain Rex. He was pretty well convinced that this was the only way he'd have a chance to explain everything to you."
"I've got the coordinates, Kix," Rex said. "Well done. General Skywalker and I were hoping to find him before anyone else. This just makes our job that much easier. Rex out."
"Where are we headed?" Skywalker asked as they both ran for his speeder.
"Sector I-9."
…
It was silent in the transport as they hurried across the city, Rex seated above General Skywalker in the cockpit. His mind was racing. Kix seemed to believe Fives, despite what the medic had seen on Ringo Vinda. That must mean Fives was still fairly coherent. Perhaps the virus was acting on him more slowly. Rex wondered if he'd even recognize his friend.
"If this virus is part of some plot against the Jedi," Skywalker suddenly said, his voice grave, "Fives might be on to something after all. But that still doesn't explain why he would try to assassinate the chancellor. He's going to have a lot to answer for if he survives this."
"Maybe he couldn't help it, sir," Rex said uneasily. "You saw what happened to Tup. He didn't have any control over killing General Tiplar. Or someone could be framing Fives, like he said. What if Fives figured out who gave him the virus, and they decided that framing him would be the best way to make sure we never found out the truth?"
"Hmm. Well… we'll let him talk, but we're going to have to take him into custody afterward either way."
"Understood."
They started their descent, deep into the shaft that allowed access to the lower levels. The collective light of the city faded and they were surrounded by the dimmer illumination of doorways and their own vehicle's headlights. The two-man shuttle swerved gracefully down onto a small landing platform.
Skywalker climbed out, and Rex hopped down from the top to follow, trying to shake himself free of a sense of impending disaster. There was hope of preventing the worst. Maybe even of saving Fives… despite all his attempts to be pragmatic, Rex could feel that hope swelling painfully in him.
"Well," Skywalker said over his shoulder as they walked toward the slim black opening between the warehouse doors. "These are the coordinates Kix gave us. Let's hope Fives is inside."
"Eh," Rex sighed unhappily. "I hope he knows what he's doing."
For a moment, gazing into the dark interior of the warehouse, Rex wished he hadn't left his helmet in the shuttle. But then Skywalker ignited his lightsaber. The blue glow cast stark shadows from the half-organized stacks of crates in front of them. Pistols held at the ready, Rex followed the general, knowing that Skywalker would be reaching out with the Force to anticipate any attack.
"Fives?" Skywalker called. "Fives, we're here."
Rex scanned the shadows, hating the queasy knot in his stomach that had kept coming back every night since he'd left Kamino. It was easy to imagine movement as the light from the lightsaber shifted along the walls. There was a ripple in the air, perhaps from the circulation system.
"Come on out," the general tried again. "We just wanna talk to you."
So Fives was here; Skywalker must sense it. They kept walking, Rex's eyes roving methodically over the half-invisible shapes looming out of the darkness. Their steps seemed loud in the silence.
"General Skywalker." A rough, low voice. Fives' voice, but it sounded wrong, husky, like Fives was short of breath or injured. Rex moved close behind the general and looked up. It sounded like the voice had come from above; it diffused, echoing through the building so that it was impossible to tell which direction it came from.
"Thank you," said Fives. "Thank you for trusting me. Now have you come without troops?"
"We have," Skywalker said warily, shifting so that he and Rex could cover each other's backs. Rex kept his pistols up by his eyes, hoping he wouldn't have to use them.
"Put down your weapons, then!"
"I don't think so, Fives," said Skywalker.
"Please, sir!" Fives' desperate tone shifted to one of forced control. "Please… I'm unarmed."
For a moment, Rex was sure the general would refuse. From an objective standpoint, this looked an awful lot like a trap. But Skywalker turned off the saber, and Rex blinked against the darkness, waiting for his eyes to adjust. Of course, in a battle between an unarmed clone and an unarmed Jedi, there was no contest.
He felt Skywalker shift behind him. He could see the room more clearly now, and walked toward the nearest storage cube.
"Alright," Rex called. "I'm putting my pistols down."
He laid them on the cube and stepped back, raising his hands so that if Fives was watching, he would see that they were empty.
"What are we here for, Fives?" Skywalker asked the ceiling.
"I need your help."
"I know you do," Skywalker said, like a parent reminding a frantic child that he was listening. "We know you're not well. It's been rough for you these past couple days."
"I'm not crazy!" Fives cried, and Rex clenched his teeth against what he heard in his friend's voice. "Please… please, just… just hear… what I have to say!"
The voice shifted until it was coming from behind them. Rex and Skywalker turned and started toward the sound.
"We're here to help you, Fives; just come with us!" Skywalker coaxed. "Let us take you back to the Temple."
A blinding light flashed; a ray shield surrounded them.
"No!" The general rushed forward to slam his fist against it. Rex frowned up at the emitter; the shield must have been set up to contain volatile goods in the warehouse as needed. He wondered if Fives had planned this as the meeting place for precisely that reason. Fives was just that smart.
Something moved behind the crates, and Fives pulled himself around the corner, into view. His head was shaved bald; he was wearing armor, but not his own. Rex could only just make out his desperate expression from the light of the shield.
"I just… need you to listen to me. Please!"
"I'm not really sure we have any other choice!" Skywalker spat back, folding his arms.
Fives stepped closer, throwing his arms wide, fists clenched as his voice cracked and shook with emotion between his shallow panting. "I was framed!" It was nearly a sob. "Because I know the truth! The truth about a plot…" One hand clutched at his head. "A massive deception!"
Rex had already heard all this from Skywalker. They needed real details, and they needed them now. He stepped up next to Skywalker so Fives could see him. "By whom?"
"Well there's a sinister plot," Fives fumbled, "in the works, against the Jedi!" His voice didn't steady; if anything it was getting more erratic, and his hands jerked and grasped as he edged closer to them, barely seeming aware of his own movements. "I have proof of it!" he yelled, gasping. "I can prove that everything I know is true beyond a shadow of a doubt!"
"Show me the evidence," Skywalker demanded.
"The… evidence is…." Fives held his head with one hand, his voice faint with confusion. Rex didn't want to see this, this struggle to hang on to whatever scrap of sanity Fives had left while the virus turned his intelligence into the babblings of a lunatic. There was no point in watching him suffer like this, all for some scrap of information which was probably heavily twisted by Fives' mental state.
"In here," Fives blurted, pointing at his own head repeatedly. "It's, i-it's in here, it's in all of us! Every clone!"
Rex's breath caught. "What is it?"
"Organic chips, built into our genetic code," Fives sighed in one low, exhausted breath. He knelt, resting his head against his arm, propped up on one of the crates. "To make us do whatever someone wants…" His voice quaked. "Even kill the Jedi."
Rex's stomach lurched.
Fives stood and stepped toward the ray shield with a look of naked fear on his face. "It's… all in here!" he insisted, pointing at his own temple, pleading.
Skywalker glanced at Rex, his face still dark with anger. Rex rubbed the back of his neck, his skin prickling all over with horrified chills. Chips that could be used to control clones, like droids. It sounded crazy, especially when Fives choked it out like this. Rex was sure the technology existed, but that it could have been implanted at some point into hundreds of thousands of clones by the enemy was impossible to believe. Unless—
"Let's just get you some help first," the general said, reverting to his parental tone, but somehow it sounded less genuine. "Then we can review everything. It'll be okay, Fives, we'll sort this out."
Fives' face worked with uncertainty, then devastation. A strangled yell burst from him. "YOU DON'T BELIEVE ME!"
Rex reached out a hand toward the ray shield, keeping his voice level and calm. If he could just get Fives to stop panicking….
"Fives," he tried, "We are… listening to you. We only want to help."
"How do I know you're not tricking me?" Fives kept rubbing the back of his neck, acting dizzy or pained. He looked at Rex and Skywalker as if they had personally betrayed him. "How do I know… it won't be a trap?!" Fives was just on the other side of the ray shield now, staring Rex in the eyes with a tormented expression. "The chancellor would try to kill me!" he snarled. "Now I promise you that!"
"The chancellor?" Skywalker leaned forward.
"He's in on it!" Fives started pacing, covering his eyes and then clenching his fists, hunched over. "I don't know to what extent, but I know he orchestrated much of this!" He whirled back to face them. "He told me in the medical bay!"
"He told you?" Skywalker asked, voice going hard. "When you tried to assassinate him?! You have gone too far, Fives! The chancellor isn't capable of what you claim!"
"He IS!" Fives threw up his hands. "I swear to you, General, you have no idea—!"
"Stand down, soldier! Stand down!"
All at once, at least half a dozen red-painted troopers rushed at them from the shadows, all their blasters pointed straight at Fives. Rex's blood went cold as Fives whirled to face them.
"Get on your knees!" Commander Fox roared.
"No!" Fives cried desperately, hands outstretched. "No no, stay back!" His head jerked to the left and Rex followed his gaze to where his pistols lay on the crate nearby.
"Don't do it!" Fox cried. "Don't do it, soldier!"
"GET AWAY FROM ME!" Fives screamed.
"Fives! NO!" Rex cried as Fives snatched up the pistol.
One blaster shot. Fives' breath left him roughly in one burst, but he kept gasping for it, choking on it. The pistol clattered to the ground at his feet.
"Fives!" Rex pressed close to the shield and saw Fives' knees buckle, saw him fall onto his side, the hole in his chest still smoldering. "FIVES!"
Rex pounded at the shield, not breathing either.
"Fives…."
"Get this ray shield off!" Skywalker commanded.
Another shot, and the shield was gone. Rex fell to his knees by Fives and rolled him onto his back—he was still breathing, shaking—Rex could feel it.
"Fives."
"Brother," Fives gasped between tearing breaths, eyes unfocused.
"Call for help!" Rex cried at Fox's team. "We need a medic!"
Fives' whole body heaved, struggling as he coughed and gulped at the air. "Rex…."
Rex stared at his face, twisted in pain. "Fives," he answered heavily, his whole body feeling weighed down and trapped as if by quicksand.
"This…" Fives struggled to keep his eyes on Rex. "It's… bigger than any of us… anything… I could have imagined…." Fives' head shook wildly with the effort of his breathing. He grabbed blindly at Rex's shoulder, his voice weak, full of grief. "I-I never meant… to…"
Rex reached for him, feeling as if his armor were crushing his chest. He put one hand behind Fives' head, the other under his arm, and pulled him up close so that their cheeks were nearly touching.
"I only wanted to do my duty," Fives breathed into his ear.
A shudder went through Rex starting from the knot in his gut, and he fought against the burning in his eyes, the icy burning that was sweeping over him like the bomb on Thisspias. For a split second, he thought in some detached corner of his mind about how just moments ago—this same night, he had stood up to his general and resolved to do his duty, even knowing what it would cost, even despite Skywalker's disapproval and even anger. He knew. He knew so well what Fives meant by those words.
Fives groaned and gasped in his ear, and Rex pulled back to watch him struggling against the pain, unable to breathe. "Brother," Rex pleaded. "Fives—" Fives' eyes were closing. "Stay with me, Fives!" He jerked Fives up gently. "Fives?"
"The mission…" Fives whispered, face quivering as the rest of his body was shaking in Rex's arms—Rex wondered if he was still shaking, too. "The nightmares… they're… finally…" Fives' face relaxed and his shaking began to subside. "Over…."
His head fell back and Rex thought for a moment he had just passed out. "Fives," he called quietly, shaking him. "No… Fives…." He shook him harder, the truth sinking in. "Come on Fives, stay with me, stay with me!" He couldn't control the way his mouth was shaking, curling, could barely speak around the pressure that was building in his throat. "Fives!" He cradled the man's head in both hands. "Fives! Don't go!"
Fives was motionless, not a sign of life in his face, no pulse on his neck. He was gone.
"No," Rex breathed, his own voice strange and dull to his ears as he laid Fives' body down on the metal floor. "Oh no…."
He felt a hand on his shoulder. It took him a moment to summon the will to look up, away from Fives' face, and the hole in his armor. General Skywalker looked down at him sadly. Rex could find nothing to say. Silence thundered in his ears. After a moment, he let his eyes fall to Fives again.
It was over. Walking into this warehouse, Rex had told himself he was prepared to kill if by some chance it came to that, trusting that the Kaminoans would find the answer in both their bodies after death… he had half convinced himself that Fives was already gone.
But Fives hadn't been killed by the virus. He hadn't been scared because of what he didn't know. He was panicking because of something he already knew.
Fives' words clanged in his head. The chancellor. How could the chancellor be involved? Nothing about this made sense. His body, lying there, shot by one of his own brothers—everything was all wrong. Rex stared at Fives' face and put his hands over his eyes to block it out, gripping his own head against the realization that Fives would never be able to tell him anything more.
"A shame it had to turn out this way," one of Fox's men said.
Rex pushed himself to his feet, his eyes drawn back again, against his will. He looked for the pistol Fives had grabbed, and found it back in place with its twin on the crate. Skywalker must have put it there. He slid them into their holsters, imagining Fives' shaking hands gripping the handle.
"We'd better take his body to the hospital," Skywalker said solemnly, "so the doctors can do an autopsy. I don't want to lose any more of my men to this virus."
"We'll take care of that, sir," Commander Fox said. "I'll call for appropriate transport."
"Alright." Skywalker gripped Rex's shoulder tightly and turned him to face away from the body on the floor. "Let's go, Rex." His voice was soft but firm.
"Yes, sir," Rex said automatically.
He was no stranger to walking away from the bodies of men he knew. But all his steps felt heavy now, his mind ground to a futile halt, spinning in place and never going anywhere. Fives had been calling to him specifically, and it was as if his presence was still there, pulling at him. Never leave a brother behind. He shook himself, lengthened his stride so he kept pace with Skywalker, the sick despair subsiding into a mild dizziness.
He had done all he could to help Fives, he told himself. He had done his duty. There was nothing for it now but to accept the truth, whatever that truth might turn out to be.