Chapter 14

…

Obi-Wan sliced cleanly through the last few commando droids guarding the city hall's inner office. With his free hand he paused a moment to wipe his forehead on his sleeve, glancing back down the stone-mosaic stairs to where blaster fire was lighting up the enormous obsidian eyes and intricately carved cheek-flaps of the statues that stood guard in the entrance hall. His hair was dripping with sweat and he was drenched under his clothes, which felt much too thick and heavy on him in the jungle heat. He'd hoped that the sealed cities of Clak'dor VII would mean a more pleasant temperature than the outdoor climate would provide, but then the city's environmental systems had been compromised when his forces breached the outer defenses rather…forcefully.

After a few seconds of rest, he shifted stance back to readiness and forced open the old-fashioned door, lightsaber raised above his head.

"Senator F'ass?" Obi-Wan called in surprise, locking his eyes on the Bith who was standing behind the ornate desk. The whole room—the whole building, and the whole city, really—was beautiful, a fitting testament to the ancient and highly developed culture of the species who had created it. The arc of the walls into the ceiling, all powder blue melting into an emerald green toward the floor, sunlight from the ceiling gleaming on the clean lines and surfaces of the ivory-like furniture, plants climbing pillars and hanging in strategic spots to cast pleasing shadows from the artificial lights—it was all very peaceful. Woodwind music was playing gently somewhere. It sounded far away.

"Obi-Wan Kenobi?" The Bith could not blink or widen his eyes, lidless as they were, but his mild voice gave the impression that he was pleased. "I wish we didn't have to meet like this… but I am glad you are the Jedi I offer our surrender to."

"I take it you weren't in favor of joining the Separatists, then." Obi-Wan glanced around the room cautiously, but he didn't sense a trap. He shut the door, turned off his lightsaber, and came forward to greet the former Senator. "What exactly is your sphere of influence among your people?"

"Anyone who might oppose me has gone into hiding by now. Once you remove the droid armies and establish a presence here, those who would stand with the Confederacy will be delegitimized. If there is another of our kind that the Republic would prefer to appoint as leader of this planet, I would rather step down, but… I will take up the burden of leadership if necessary."

"Then it is a total surrender," Obi-Wan sighed with relief. "You support the Republic? You and your people?"

"We would rather remain neutral, of course," F'ass said. "But as we have seen, that does not appear to be an option at this point. We welcome Republic protection, but we have little to offer in the way of military help."

"I'll let my men know. Is there anything you can do to stop the droid armies? We would like to minimize any further damage to your cities."

"I'm afraid not," said F'ass sadly. "Our cities weren't built with military strategy in mind. We were guarding against the environmental effects of our own civil war, not expecting war to come to us from outside. The armies are being led by tactical droids and a few alien generals."

"Alright. I'll dispatch some men to guard these offices, and update you on our progress. Sorry about the environmental controls." Obi-Wan grimaced.

"I trust you will try your hardest to make the best of this terrible situation, Master Kenobi," said F'ass. "Whatever you can do, you will do."

"Yes, I will," Obi-Wan promised. "Stay here until my men have secured the building."

He ran back the way he had come, and shut the door behind him.

"Cody," he said into his comm., pausing at the top of the stairs. "Come in, Cody."

"Yes, sir."

"The Separatist leaders are in hiding, but we have the support of the only leader still left in the capitol. He can't do anything to stop the droids, but once we've destroyed them, the people should follow his lead."

"Copy that."

"I'll meet you where we split off, by the university. We'll plan our strategy from there."

"I'll be there, sir."

Obi-Wan switched channels to inform Anakin of his progress, repeating what he'd just told Cody as he rejoined the fray to cover a cornered squad.

"So now all we have to do is find these generals," Anakin replied when he'd finished yelling over the blaster fire. "Alright, I'll meet you there as soon as I can break away. The droids are pretty thick over here!"

"See you then." Obi-Wan grunted as he lopped off the head of another droid. The squad behind him was able to wipe out the rest in the hall with a smattering of blaster fire. He shut off the comm. and turned back toward his men. "Lieutenant, secure the building. We have an ally in the central office; make sure to position your men so that no one can harm Senator F'ass!"

"You can count on us, sir!" said Lieutenant Meer.

When Obi-Wan emerged into the street, things had quieted down considerably. He kept alert, but there was only a distant sound of battle drifting to him on the pungent air, and the main thoroughfare seemed to be empty. Despite the heat, he jogged in long strides toward the fountain where he and Cody had parted ways. He caught sight of the Commander slipping carefully around a corner, hugging the walls, his men following one by one. His posture said he was still on high alert, and as Obi-Wan watched, Cody's whole body jerked to a halt and he shot three times through the windows of a building across the street; shattered glass almost masked the sound of a Bith voice screaming.

"Wait!" Obi-Wan cried as Cody rushed forward. "Don't shoot!" With a little help from the Force, he leapt forward and landed right in Cody's path, lightsaber held in a defensive stance. Cody stopped dead. "The Bith are our allies now, we have their leader's official surrender!"

"Yes sir," Cody panted. "S...sorry, General. I don't know if it was droids or Bith, but someone was shooting at us out of the windows back there. Six of us went down before we could blink."

"I see." Obi-Wan focused on the Force to try and sense if they were in any further danger. "Did any of them survive?"

"Push made it, but he's in bad shape." Cody still sounded breathless.

"Do you still have your medic?"

"Tucker went with Shiver's squad," Cody said. "But Early's still here."

"I want him to see if that Bith is still alive, and help him if he can."

"Yes sir." Cody motioned the younger medic forward. "Wooley, Viper, cover him."

"Yes, sir!"

"How are your men dealing with the heat?" Obi-Wan asked.

"Just fine, sir," Cody said, with unconvincing enthusiasm.

"Once Skywalker arrives, our primary objective will be to capture or kill the enemy generals who are in hiding. There's likely to be an even greater concentration of droids where they are."

"Yes, General," Cody's head jerked compulsively toward some thumps and rustles coming from the building his three men had just gone into, but he snapped attention back to Obi-Wan right away.

Obi-Wan frowned, beginning to feel a bit worried. Cody was not in ideal condition for what lay ahead. Perhaps he would have to rely on one of the lower officers to help with this operation.

"Anakin, where are you?" he sighed loudly over the comm. link.

"Sorry, Master. I was busy following my instincts. They led me right into the Separatists' hideaway. Three killed, one captured." Anakin's voice was smug. "Still want me to rendezvous in the town square or should I send you my coordinates?"

Obi-Wan's heart sank. Yet again, Anakin went for the easier, more violent solution.

"Your timing is perfect, as always," he said wearily. "I'll come to you. Just try not to kill anyone else if you don't have to."

"Actually, there's another small hideout closer to where you are, according to this helpful Seperatist we just captured. I'll send you the coordinates. I think me and my men are done here."

Obi-Wan sighed heavily and confirmed receipt of the coordinates before turning to Cody. "Change of plans. I want you to help the wounded get back to the ship. Stay there and wait for further orders."

"Sir?" Cody gripped his rifle close to his chest. "What about capturing the generals?"

"We don't know what they may try to do when they realize we have them cornered." Obi-Wan paused and realized guiltily that he didn't need to make up a good reason for what he wanted Cody to do. "I've given you your orders, now I want you out of here as soon as Early is finished with that Bith."

"Yes, sir!"

Cody hurried to check on Early's progress, and Obi-Wan ran off to find one of his captains.

…

Hours later, Obi-Wan strode through the corridors of the ship, cleaned up, blessedly cooled down, but still troubled. Seeing the iconic capitol of Clak'dor VII broken and ghost-town-like was part of it, as was his continual worry over Anakin. But what he saw in Cody was what bothered him the most.

Some of the men were sleeping now, but luckily, some were also eating. He stood by the exit of the mess hall, watching the troops come and go in groups of two or three, sometimes whole squads of five sticking close together. Some of them stopped and gave him surprised looks before he waved them along with a smile. Silently, he tried to observe and gauge their connection to one another. The variation startled him.

Finally, a group walked out that was perfect for his purposes. All four of them had been part of Cody's company on Clak'Dor VII.

"Excuse me," Obi-Wan said, clearing his throat loudly as he approached.

The curly-haired clone in front stopped first and came to attention.

"General Kenobi!"

"At ease, Wooley," Obi-Wan said. "I'd like to have a little chat with the four of you." He glanced over the other three, naming them in his head: Boil, with his dramatic frowning mustache; Star, with the subtle constellation tattoo across his head (some of the tiny stars even showing up across his nose like freckles); and Ghost, who was only identifiable from any other generic clone by four successively smaller dots descending his jawline from each ear.

"Right now, sir?" Wooley glanced at the others. Star's brow furrowed.

"Yes. Unless you have pressing duties to attend to."

"No sir."

"Good. Follow me."

Obi-Wan led them to the nearest briefing room, one deck up. He could tell they were all a bit nervous as he turned to face them.

"It's come to my attention that the war may be taking a toll on some of the men." He paused, trying to sense their reactions. Ghost's discomfort came through most clearly, so Obi-Wan turned his eyes on him. "That this might affect key members of the battalion is particularly troubling. I need to know if any of you have observed unusual behavior in the men recently… especially your Commander."

Ghost's gaze lifted back up to him "What do you mean by unusual behavior, sir?" he asked quietly.

"Anything. Distraction, disturbed sleep patterns… perhaps being quieter or more talkative than before. Any evidence of unusual stress during the most recent battle or at any other time."

Everyone was silent, not looking at each other.

"I sense that you all have something to say," Obi-Wan said gently. "You may as well share it. It could save someone's life."

"Sorry, sir," Wooley said uncomfortably. "We all have the utmost respect for Commander Cody… it's difficult."

"Difficult to do what, exactly?"

"To admit that he's human," Boil muttered, barely audible from behind Wooley and Star.

"Well," Star interrupted a bit too loudly, "I think we're all just caught off guard, sir. You must have concerns about the Commander if you're questioning us about him."

"I do have concerns," Obi-Wan agreed. "I'm concerned for his well-being. Now, tell me what you know."

Ghost sighed. "Truth is, General, lots of us have been wondering what happened. Tucker even called him in for a health check because he noticed something wasn't right. But all he said is the Commander's tired."

"Then I realized," Star joined in, "that he started acting funny right after we rendezvoused with the Five-Oh-First."

"Acting funny how?" Obi-Wan pressed.

Here they all stalled again, the three in front exchanging nervous glances. Boil was quiet and still, meeting Obi-Wan's eyes as if trying to stare him down.

"Nothing serious, sir," Wooley finally said. "It's like you said. Just seems like there's something on his mind, and he doesn't feel like talking to anyone."

"Well," Ghost grimaced. "Usually he's pretty sharp when he's on point. But today, his reactions were slower. Sometimes, anyway. Other times, seems like he had an itchy trigger finger."

"All of us were having a hard time focusing in the heat," Wooley said defensively. "Commander Cody led us well. He always does, sir. There's nothing to worry about on that front."

"Wooley." Obi-Wan smiled sadly. "You seem to be under the impression that I'm trying to find fault with Cody."

"Oh… no, General," Wooley said haltingly. "I'm just..."

"With all due respect, Commander, I think I know why," Star interrupted. "Like I said, after what happened with the Five-Oh-First recently… none of us want to think that the same thing could happen to our Commander. He might not have been in top form today, but that doesn't mean anything. He'll be back to normal soon, I'm sure."

"What exactly have you heard about the Five-Oh-First?" Obi-Wan looked at Star curiously.

"I know some of the men from that Battalion pretty well, sir," said Star in a rush. "A couple guys told me their Captain got sent away on an important mission, but he came close to ruining something important, so they replaced him. Sent him off with a one-way ticket somewhere so he could die with honor. Seems like they're all pretty shocked about it."

Obi-Wan sighed, stifled with guilt he didn't want to examine. "I see now why you're reluctant to talk. But understand… I don't want that to happen to our Commander any more than you do. I'd rather prevent it if I can. In order to do that, I'm afraid I need to understand just how unusual Cody's behavior is."

"I'm not sure what you mean, General," said Star. "I thought we already established that it's pretty unusual for him to be acting this way. He's usually more focused. And more friendly with the rest of us. I agree with Tucker—he's probably just worn out. It's been a long haul."

Obi-Wan wondered how much he could say without feeling like he was violating some private part of Cody's life. He realized how little he knew about what went on in the ranks… just as he'd been clued in while watching those groups of troopers leave the mess hall. What if Cody's attachment wasn't unusual? How many men had been this devastated by the loss of a friend on the battlefield, and he simply hadn't thought to notice, because clones weren't supposed to be hit hard by the death all around them?

"What I need to know," Obi-Wan said at last, "is whether it's unusual for the circumstances as well. Have you ever seen any of your other comrades have a behavior shift like this? What caused it, and how long did it last?"

Again: silence. Obi-Wan had the distinct feeling he was treading new ground here, asking questions about things which simply weren't talked about. Or at least, not talked about with Jedi.

"Perhaps after the death of a friend?" he prompted.

"Yes, sir," said Wooley reluctantly. "Lots of us, after every battle. But it passes."

"For most of us," Star said. Boil and Ghost shifted their weight away from the other two with an affected casualness.

"And for the rest?"

"It depends, sir," said Wooley.

"On what?" Obi-Wan said patiently. This was like pulling teeth, but he was beginning to understand why.

"Well, if they survive much longer. If they do…."

"They're usually not the same as before," Star finished for him.

Obi-Wan frowned into his hand. "The altered behavior becomes permanent?"

"I guess you could say that, sir," Star shrugged. "If they make it that long, that means their focus during battle is still good. But they don't act the same around the rest of us."

"I see." Obi-Wan considered for a moment. "Wooley, Star… thank you. That will be all. You two are dismissed. If you notice any new developments among the men, please let me know."

"Yes, sir," they both said, outwardly willing, inwardly reluctant as they left.

The door shut behind them and Obi-Wan turned toward the other two.

"It seems to me," he began, "that the two of you have thoughts which might contradict what Wooley and Star were saying."

"No, sir," said Ghost in a grim undertone. "They just about summed it up. Some missions just stick with you, but it's still do or die out there on the front lines. As for me… I don't plan on dying without a good reason. A meaningless death is the worst fate for any soldier."

"Was it a meaningless death that made you familiar with these… symptoms?" Obi-Wan folded his arms.

"Not for me, sir," Ghost said with hollow conviction. "I saw it in one of my squad mates. We both had friends in the Five-Oh-First too, before Umbara. A lot of them died under his command, but when Krell sent us kill each other… he never could get past that. Got shot down right in front of me on the next mission before he fired on a single clanker. He just didn't have any fight left."

Obi-Wan noticed how Ghost avoided even naming this squad mate.

"I just hope the Commander doesn't end up that way," Ghost grumbled. "Because if he does, General… I don't know that even a Jedi like you can fix him."

"Hmm." Obi-Wan turned toward Boil. "You've been awfully quiet, Boil. I know you have something important to add to this."

"Oh, nothing you would find useful, sir," Boil muttered.

"I beg to differ," Obi-Wan said sternly.

"Sir, permission to leave the room?" Ghost said suddenly.

"Yes, go on. Thank you for your help."

"Thank you, sir." Ghost opened the door and left in a hurried march. Perhaps he could feel some of Boil's resentment as well.

"Sorry, General," Boil said darkly, when Ghost was gone. "I know you can probably tell exactly what I'm thinking right now."

"Not really," Obi-Wan said, relieved that they were finally getting somewhere. "I can only guess at why you're feeling this way. It seems that the more I try to understand this, the angrier you become. That's a bit of a paradox."

Boil said nothing, eyes half-shut, and Obi-Wan wondered what would provoke a more informative response.

"I want you to speak freely," Obi-Wan said. "I'm not interested in condemning my men for speaking the truth. I only want to understand how serious Cody's condition is."

"Of course, sir. We wouldn't want to lose efficiency in the Battalion right now. These battles are too important, right?"

"Right…." Obi-Wan frowned. He had a feeling he'd just walked into a trap.

"You're a Jedi, sir. You can sense our emotions. You should already know what's normal for your Commander."

"I know this is the first time he's been this distressed. And I know you are angry with me, although I don't know exactly why. Perhaps you'd care to explain."

"I don't think that's a good idea, General."

"I do," Obi-Wan said. "I'd rather not make this into an interrogation. I'm trying to help you and the rest of the men."

"You don't need to worry about me, sir." Still that resentful tone. "I've done my job, haven't I? No matter what, I do my job. We all do. What are you going to do with the Commander if he can't do his job?"

"I'm not sure yet. Perhaps you could give me recommendations."

"You're the Jedi, sir. We're three years into this war. Surely by now you know how things work in the army." Boil stared at the wall just to the right of Obi-Wan, grunted a bitter laugh. "I guess it's not treason to say that we're made to die at your command. It's the truth. You can do what you want with Commander Cody, as long as he's capable of following your orders. That's what he's there for. That's what we're all made for, right?" Boil's voice rose and his face began to break from its stony expression into an injured snarl. "So, Ghost's friend didn't die a meaningless death. Waxer didn't die a meaningless death! They died because it was their duty!"

Obi-Wan struggled to keep a calm expression—not because he was angry, but because Boil's outburst filled him with a sluggish dread and terrible sadness.

"Is that right, General?" Boil quieted down with some effort. "Isn't that the entire point of us? What good is a clone who can't fight?"

"You're recommending I… remove Cody from the army?" Obi-Wan asked faintly.

Boil laughed humorlessly—it was more like he was spitting out breaths, like the air in the room disgusted him. "If he can't fight… what else is there? His life is over whether you recondition him, or let him get shot, or send him off like the Five-Oh-First's captain. But maybe he can still pull himself together. I'm still here." Boil slapped himself on the chest. "If paying special attention to the men after heavy losses actually helped anyone, you'd think our leaders would have done something like that after Umbara."

The accusation in Boil's voice was unmistakable. Obi-Wan wanted to sit down, overwhelmed by everything he'd managed to ignore for so long. "I think I understand, now," he sighed, leaning against the wall instead. "You're saying that singling Cody out will either brand him as defective, or… mean admitting that the entire army is…."

Obi-Wan wasn't sure how he meant to finish that sentence. Human? Of course the clones were human… a subset of human, most said. It was convenient to believe in such classifications.

"Hmm. Maybe I'm defective too, sir," Boil said, voice suddenly as light and matter of fact as if he were commenting on the weather. "I can't stop being angry. I've tried… I can't stop. It's like they said—I'm just not the same now. But I haven't let it get me killed yet. That's the best any of us can do."

"I don't suppose it would mean anything if I offered condolences now," Obi-Wan murmured regretfully, half to himself.

"Sir… as far as Jedi Masters go, sir, we're lucky to be serving you," Boil said, and Obi-Wan could tell he meant it despite his anger. "But no matter how good a clone is, or a Jedi, at the end of the day, a Jedi is a Jedi… and a clone is just a clone. That's the way it is."

"And I can't find any fault with you for saying so." Obi-Wan stood up straight. "It's the facts I don't like."

Boil sighed.

"You wanted the truth, General. But that's just the way I see things. I'm still fighting for the Republic. I'll happily die for it, too, when the time comes." His voice softened, eyes narrowed. "I've kept up the fight this long on my own; there's no sense in turning back now."

Obi-Wan wondered for a moment if Boil would truly be happy to die or if he was just using the figure of speech in its common meaning.

"Thank you for being honest with me." Obi-Wan resisted the urge to reach out and give Boil's shoulder a reassuring grip, painfully aware that whatever he did would only seem blindly condescending in this context. "You've… given me much to think about."

Boil seemed to have reached his limit, and said nothing more.

"I don't know how much I can do to change things at this point," Obi-Wan realized. "But I'd still like to be kept informed about what condition the men are in. Perhaps I can take that into account when planning these assaults, and… prevent a few more casualties, at least."

"Yes, sir."

"You may go, if there's nothing more you'd like to say," Obi-Wan said.

Boil hesitated a moment, then turned to leave.

…

Cody stood at the foot of his bunk, staring down at the storage crate. He didn't want to open it. He was much more exhausted than he should have been after their last engagement, and more than anything else he wanted to sleep. But he hesitated, for the same reason he'd been reluctant to return to the ship.

He pulled open the lid with one hand and his shadow fell on the blue and white helmet inside. The dark T-visor stared at him, and he took a deep breath, stomach aching, a sense of weakness vibrating through every muscle. Heat exhaustion, maybe. Dehydration could do that. He set his own helmet inside and began with the rest.

"Cody." It was Kenobi on the comm. link.

Cody straightened. "Yes, sir?"

"Could you come to my quarters? There's something I'd like to discuss with you."

"Ah, yes, sir," Cody said, although his head was swimming a little. "I'll be there in a few minutes."

It took him that long to put his armor back on and gulp down some water, but the order hadn't sounded urgent at all. Rex's helmet stayed in his mind's eye as if he'd looked at a bright light and was stuck with the neon afterimage no matter where he looked. For a split second he pictured Rex's head falling from his body and stopped dead in the hallway, his breath catching as he wrestled his mind away from such thoughts, and the tactile memory of holding Rex's armored body in his arms—his dead body, it felt like now, though he'd been alive then.

"Forget something, Commander?" someone said in passing. Cody didn't look up, just hurried forward into the lift, his mind repeating the faceless trooper's question and Kenobi's two sentences, word for word, until he'd arrived at the General's door.

"Ah, there you are," Kenobi said from a low chair in the middle of the room. He didn't stand, instead gesturing toward the chair opposite him, brow slightly furrowed. "Please, sit down."

Cody stared at the General, then the chair, troubled with this unusual arrangement. But Kenobi raised his eyebrows and Cody came forward to sit stiffly in the chair across from him.

"Something wrong, General?" he asked.

"Too much to even mention, I'm afraid," Kenobi sighed. "I'm not sure where to begin."

Kenobi had that terribly sad expression that Cody had only seen on him a few times before. Something about it always struck him deep, a confirmation that here was a Jedi who didn't scornall emotion, was not distant and unreachable but close and affected. Even lightheaded as he was, he lifted his chin and clenched his fists with determination.

"Anything I can do, sir?"

Kenobi smiled a little, just for a moment. Then he leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, speaking softly. "Perhaps you'll allow me to apologize."

Cody just stared, full of confusion and worry. Nothing was as it should be, and he had a feeling of being trapped in a dream with half an awareness that he was dreaming. Rex was supposed to be here. General Kenobi should not be saying things that made so little sense. They were supposed to be winning the war, celebrating together….

He tried to snap out of it, realized he hadn't said anything to the General, who was looking at him with concern. "Uh, sir," he fumbled. "I don't… General, I don't know what you would ever need to apologize for, to anyone." For a moment he feared he'd missed something important, just skipped over entire moments of this conversation. He became aware of a faint pulsing feeling in his ears.

"I'll add that to my list of problems," Obi-Wan murmured, and straightened. "Cody… I haven't been treating you as an equal. Truthfully, I haven't even been thinking of you as one."

"Why are you saying this, sir?" Cody asked, desperate for something to make sense.

"Because someone should be saying it," Kenobi said with quiet fervor. "Our silence on this matter may turn out to be one of the worst crimes of this war. The more I think on it, the more incredible it is. I mistakenly thought of myself as your friend, and at the same time, I believed that any connection between clones is… only out of necessity in battle. Why would the Kaminoans engineer a product to have affection and loyalty to anyone other than its owner?"

Cody swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. He'd never heard Kenobi speak about clones this way before—it felt like a slap in the face. And he wasn't even sure what it signified now, except that the General was also referencing his reaction to Rex's death. His entire torso felt like it was cramping, collapsing.

"General Kenobi… I've never felt disrespected under your leadership." It was the only safe thing he could think of to say.

Kenobi sighed. "The fact that you're so anxious around me right now suggests otherwise."

"Sir, it's not that I'm anxious about you," Cody protested, even though part of him was stinging a bit from what Kenobi had said, disoriented by this sudden shift in their relationship. "I'm probably just a little wired from the battle. And I don't understand why you're telling me all of this right now. What does any of this have to do with…." He swallowed again, his mind forced back into the moment after Rex had gone through that door, sitting alone in that dark room, his forehead resting on Rex's helmet.

Kenobi wouldn't stop staring at him with that concerned look. It was only making the pulsing in his ears worse.

"What I'm trying to say," Kenobi said gravely, "is that I am sorry about what happened with Rex. I'm sorry that I was so content to believe that you are exactly what the Kaminoans believe you are: nothing more than a particularly well-programmed military servant. Deep down, I knew better, and I ignored it when it was convenient. But you are as much your own person as any other human."

"Sir…." Cody clenched his hands together in his lap, stifled the urge to ask the General to stop, stop saying any more. Every word just added to the weight on his chest. It was easier not to speak now.

"We all seem to feel that you are less capable of suffering, somehow, because you have nothing to lose outside the army and its goals. But we—I—failed to realize that when the army is your entire life, perhaps losing your comrades takes a much heavier toll than one might expect."

"You're right about one thing, General," Cody interrupted desperately, struggling to keep his voice stable. "I was made to fight. I hope you haven't lost faith in that. I promised you I wouldn't let this get in the way, and I'm going to keep that promise, I swear to you!"

Part of him thought those words felt terribly hollow. Sometimes things just didn't work no matter how long you held out. And that thought terrified him more than anything.

"Would you let one of your men go into battle with a broken leg?" Obi-Wan frowned.

"No, sir. Not unless there was no other choice. But this is different. I'm a Commander!"

"Cody, you can't fight well in this condition. And you shouldn't have to. I'd like for you—"

"I said I would get through this, so I will!"

It was something Rex would have said. Cody gritted his teeth against the urge to run away somewhere quiet, alone, to block out this alternate world where Generals sent the leaders of their battalions to certain death, where loss could break him. That happened to those poor few who simply weren't made properly. It didn't happen to people like Rex, or to him.

"You are afraid," Kenobi fretted. "I'm not going to turn you in like a defective product, Cody. I just told you—you're more than that. Your feelings about what happened to Rex are natural."

Cody sucked in a shaky breath, hunched over in the chair, assaulted by questions he wanted to shout, treasonous questions about how Rex could be thrown away so easily. There must be a good reason. He knew that, heard it all too well in Rex's parting words that echoed in his head, his confession of inefficiency… but he couldn't bear those memories. Rex was broken, and he had missed it. Like a child he was still grasping to understand who was responsible, but there was no sense blaming anyone. Some awful part of him kept trying, and he hated it.

"Please understand," Kenobi said gently, "I do want to win the war, and I'd rather you be here with me to see it happen, after everything you've done to make it possible. You deserve that much, at the very least. I don't mean this as an insult, but as a concerned friend. I'd like for you to help me select a group to send back to Coruscant—anyone in particular need of leave time. We've barely given the battalion a break between battles lately. It would be foolish of me to ignore the effect that could be having on the men."

Under normal circumstances, Cody would have agreed, would have joked about how much he did deserve to be there dealing the final victorious blows to the Separatists, knowing that Kenobi would smile and indulge his bravado. But he couldn't summon such a feeling of pride now, not in this space where he felt so exposed, his identity being dissected, the chasm between himself and the Jedi pointed out and labeled impossible to cross. He always knew it was, but that had never seemed to matter this much before.

"And I'm to go with them, sir?" he managed to ask.

"Yes."

"Am I being demoted?" Cody's voice quivered just a little, despite his efforts to hold it still.

"Ideally, I'll have one of the Captains take up temporary command until you're ready to command again."

"Sir, this command is…." All I have left, Cody thought. "It's a source of strength, for me. I know the other men are looking up to me, and I…well, I don't want to disappoint them. That keeps me focused. If anything, it's probably what I need most right now. I respectfully ask that you reconsider."

"Hmm." Kenobi looked conflicted. "I don't know…."

"Sir, like it or not, this is what I was made to do. What else is there to give my life any meaning?"

The General frowned deeply, "To start with, your relationships with the other men. With Captain Rex."

"That's irrelevant now," Cody said tightly, barely getting the words out as another cold wave broke on him.

"Is it?"

"General, please." He couldn't prevent a note of pleading. "I can still be useful."

"I don't want you to merely be useful!" Kenobi instantly looked apologetic for raising his voice, and made a quieting motion with his hand. "I'm sorry. Don't think of this as a punishment. If it makes you feel any better, this is strategically necessary to keep the army efficient, and that isn't just me being sentimental or indulgent. It's simply the truth. Even you must admit this is an army made up of human beings, not droids."

Cody just sat, pressed into his seat by a sense of futility. "Yes, sir," he said dully.

"I have to do what I think is best for the men," Kenobi sighed. "Apparently I still don't always know what that is."

"If you don't know, then why are you so determined to take me away from the front lines?"

Kenobi hesitated, and Cody felt overwhelmed by the realization that all this time, the two people he was closest to in the world had such significant parts of themselves that he had failed to see. Rex with his defectiveness, Kenobi with this… Cody wasn't even sure what to call it.

"I suppose," said Kenobi into his hand, "it feels too much like sending you to your death. I don't want to lose you, Cody. I especially don't want to have your death on my conscience."

"You're a General, sir. That's your call to make." The Jedi had the wisdom and the authority to make life and death decisions with the troops. With the captains, and commanders. With Rex. "And I've always trusted that you know when it's worth the sacrifice. That's not going to change."

As soon as he said it, he felt a little better, a tiny bit worse. He wasn't a Jedi, and didn't understand how things supposedly happened through the will of the Force, as he'd heard Kenobi say once or twice. But he had to trust that their leaders knew what they were doing, at least. As much as it hurt, as much as Rex being sent away like this felt like it should have been impossible, there would be no peace outside of acceptance. He knew that, consciously. And yet his mind kept asking why, kept wanting to reject the truth, determined to throw itself back into the painful limbo of uncertainty again and again. Rex had admitted his fault, but it felt like a betrayal to agree.

Rex is gone, he told himself, throwing flimsy words at the monstrous, invincible knot of pain in his chest. Nothing will change that. There was only the war now, the Jedi, the Republic. He had to hold to that authority, get back to some measure of normalcy. It was all he had left.

"I'm doing this all wrong," Kenobi said under his breath, staring at the floor, chin resting on his fist.

Cody decided it wasn't worth trying to speak when he didn't know what to say to that.

"That's really what you want?" Kenobi asked softly. "To stay on the front lines? If it is, then…." He straightened suddenly. "It should be your decision. What do you want to do?"

"I want to do whatever is best for the Republic, sir," Cody said. "I'll return to Coruscant."

Kenobi didn't look happy about that, either.

"Sir…." Cody tried to think of what he could say to make Kenobi stop acting this way. "I know you never wanted to be part of this war. And you worry about everything. You've always done right by us, though. You don't need to start worrying about that now. As far as I'm concerned, I…." He was cut off by the memory of teasing Rex about Skywalker, and had to catch his breath for a second. "I got the best General in the army."

"That's kind of you to say. You're a good man, Cody. I hope to have you back before too long."

"Thank you, sir." There, that felt a little more like reality. "Is there anything else?"

"Well… that's up to you. Is there anything more you want to say?"

A simple question, and Cody didn't want to say anything. Rex's name was blocking his throat and he didn't know why, didn't know what he meant to ask, or what good it would do. The words of the questions would not arrange themselves into anything meaningful in his mind, and he knew if he opened his mouth, it would just be the name, hanging there, prompting more concern, more confusion. He kept his mouth tightly shut and shook his head. His head felt like it was vibrating with every breath.

"Alright," Kenobi sighed. He stood, and Cody forced himself to his feet in response without even thinking, glad that the vibrating feeling didn't turn to dizziness. "You and your group will depart at fifteen hundred tomorrow. That should give you time to get some rest first."

"Yes, sir. I'm headed to quarters right now."

"Very good." Kenobi raised a hand and briefly touched Cody's shoulder plate. "Thank you."

"For what, sir?" Cody asked, exhausted by these strange behaviors. Some small part of him wanted to laugh, to make a joke, get the General to realize how awkward this was and lighten up, but he just couldn't summon the energy or the words.

"For everything," said Kenobi. "For all your hard work."

"Same to you, sir. I'll see you at fifteen hundred hours." Cody took an experimental step toward the door, and Kenobi didn't immediately show objection, so he hurriedly turned to leave.

The corridor outside was mostly empty, and he kept up a brisk pace so no one would stop him and force him to talk. His throat hurt as if it were injured, but he'd told Tucker about everything, the aching in his stomach, the weakness in his limbs, the lightheadedness, and the medic had said all his scans checked out. It was infuriating. Maybe he'd have to bother him for a muscle relaxant anyway.

His pace slowed as he approached his quarters, remembering what waited for him there. He couldn't forget about Rex, not after nearly seven years of friendship. Even if he wanted to, he couldn't—Rex was a part of him, as deeply ingrained and natural as the feeling of a blaster in his hands. And that part being gone would keep hurting until it didn't anymore, until it closed over like… like the wound in Rex's shoulder and lung.

Anger and pain blinded Cody as he turned a corner on autopilot; he nearly ran into Lieutenant Meer, their armor plates clattering in friction for a moment.

"Ah, sorry, Commander."

He couldn't manage an apology and just hurried into his quarters, breathing, just breathing, which was hard enough to keep quiet. Rex had still been injured. But what did it matter if someone was already injured when they died? The thought pounded in his head anyway as he stripped off his armor, irrationally certain that he should have been able to feel Rex's injuries under the armor, just as he should have noticed all the signs that Rex was falling far beyond his reach.

The helmet was waiting there in the bottom of the chest, and he forced himself to look at it, even counting some of the tally marks before putting his armor in. At last, he shut the lid, and Rex's face went into shadow, left to suffocate in the darkness of space as Cody walked away.

…