Chapter 18
…
Voices woke him, interfering with foggy dreams. When Cody opened his eyes, the indistinct images faded immediately into the bottom of the upper bunk. Bodies moved in his periphery, and he recognized a particular cadence of laughter—that was Commander Sal, who he only ever saw on Coruscant. A look around and a moment to drag his mind further out of sleep reminded him of where he was.
It felt like he'd been doing something last night that left him wired and exhausted, but they'd arrived in the late afternoon, early enough to settle in before dinner. Most everyone had returned to the barracks early. He checked his chrono, realizing as he did so that he had nowhere particular to be. Seven forty-seven.
Cody bolted up and out of bed to retrieve a fresh service uniform. The voices turned on him.
"Ah, good morning, Cody."
"Must've been a hard campaign; you slept in!"
Cody glanced up at those who were speaking to him. Sal and Captain Dara were suiting up in their armor. He forced a smile through his sleepiness.
"Yeah, two long battles in a row," he said, keeping his voice light. "I better hit the showers."
"See you around," someone said, and Cody didn't look to see who it was. He was already out the door and headed down the hall.
The showers were rather empty for this time of day. Just went to show how many were out on the front, Cody thought. The war was coming to a climax, and here he was, hiding in a quiet room offstage. It wasn't right. The echoing spatter of water and footsteps on the shower floors sounded too distinctive—there were too few sounds to blend into the usual comforting background noise of life.
He wondered who General Kenobi had chosen to lead in his absence. The hot water poured over his head and he closed his eyes, his body automatically going through the motions of washing his hair, his face and body, barely noticing the unevenness in his skin from the occasional scar. Tucker's words repeated in his mind. You just need to get some rest, Commander. Nothing's wrong with you.
Once dried, Cody dressed and shaved quickly, mentally lining up his tasks for the day. He needed to check in with his men, make sure everything was in order. Check weapons, check supplies. That should kill some time.
Cody walked outside. The sun glinted brightly over the roof of the GAR headquarters, turning the flag into a ripple of bright scarlet and casting long shadows over the flat thoroughfare between the buildings. It must have rained sometime in the night; he could smell the damp fuel smell that rose off the darkened ground. So different from rain on Kamino, and different again on other worlds he'd visited. He lost himself in the numbing rhythmic march to the 212th barracks, barely looking up from his shadow in front of him except to check proximity when a tank rolled by.
As he crossed toward the door, a blur of blue and white made him stop and turn his head. The paint job on the helmet wasn't the same and the ARC trooper was wearing two pauldrons rather than one, but just for that split second, an irrational sense of possibility had risen in him. The blue wasn't even the right shade… too light. The ARC trooper continued until he'd run past where Cody stood. Off to join his battalion on a mission, or some General's plotting strategy. Cody shook himself and kept walking.
After the brightness of outside, the barracks seemed dim for a few seconds. Cody had chosen 219 men from among those recommended by Tucker and the various captains and lieutenants he commanded. He'd tried to avoid picking any of the officers, but there were still a few sergeants and one lieutenant in the mix.
"Sir!" said Sergeant Ro, the first to notice him in the hallway. "I think Lieutenant Stern is in the mess. Shall we gather the troops?"
"How many of them are in the barracks?"
"Not many. Most everyone is still fueling up."
"Is West busy?"
"Probably," Ro said with half a laugh. "But I don't think he's dealing with anything too important. Last I saw him he was badgering Zenk about his burns."
"Good. Have him meet me in the armory."
"Very good, sir." Ro ran off to fetch the medic, and Cody turned down the opposite hallway, making eye contact with the few he met on the way. He tried to stay alert for any signs of the exhaustion Tucker and their superiors had noted, but most everyone looked as they normally did.
Cody had already made it halfway through checking their stock of supplies and inspecting the spare arms when West showed up, wearing his white service uniform. He walked in just as Cody sat down on a crate with a DC-15A balanced on his lap so he could check that the tibanna gas cartridge was fully stocked with charges.
"Commander," West said abruptly, with his usual salute. "You wanted to see me. I apologize for being late."
"At ease," Cody said. "You're technically on leave with the rest of us."
"Yes, sir."
Cody looked up. West was a gruff sort, his goatee bracketed by thin shaved lines all along his chin. Cody always thought the lines were suggestive of vibrations, especially when he jutted his chin out thoughtfully as he was doing now.
"How are Zenk's burns?" Cody asked.
West rolled his eyes slightly, hands behind his back. "They'd be fine if he'd just take a day to not do anything with his hands, let the bacta do its work. But he hasn't. I'm pretty sure they're getting infected, and he's still putting up a fuss."
"I'll give him a direct order." Cody hefted the heavy rifle to put it away. "Let me know if he gives you any more trouble. Anyone else?"
"Well…." West folded his arms. "Plenty more wounded, but none of them are being much of a problem so far. We'll see if they behave themselves and actually rest like they're supposed to. Do you want a list, sir?"
"I trust you to take care of it," Cody said, pulling out another rifle to inspect. "Between reports from you and the temporary group leaders I've assigned, that should keep me informed of what I need to know."
"Yes sir," said West. Cody heard something familiar in his tone. Something uneasy he didn't like.
"What is it, West?"
"Ah, well, sir… you're on leave too, right?"
Cody sat back down and studied the questioning look West was giving him. "Technically, yes." He removed the cartridge.
"Are you planning on doing a full inspection, sir?"
"I'm considering it. Why?"
"The men…." West stopped, brow furrowed. "Being personally chosen and pulled from the front lines like this, especially at this stage of the war… it has some of them worried. Some of them don't feel trusted to do their duty, and…. You have a right to inspect their work at any time, of course, Commander. But say they saw you inspecting their weapons so closely now. On the front, they're always trusted to keep their gear in good condition."
Cody stared down at the fully loaded cartridge in his hand, and slipped it back up into the stock with a satisfying series of clicks.
"Have you been seeing any negligence in the ranks?" West murmured.
Cody shook his head. "So far, everything is perfectly in order." He replaced the rifle and didn't pull out another one. "I just want to make sure we're all ready to join the rest of the battalion when the time comes."
"Yes, sir." A pause. "It's good to know that you and the General haven't lost confidence in us."
You and the General. Cody looked over the remaining rifles and took a step back. The men still saw him as an authority, the other half of the unit that commanded them, and here he was, only looking for distraction. He suppressed a sigh.
"General Kenobi is trying to limit casualties," he said quietly. "He's decided that we'll all fight more effectively if we have a chance to recover between long periods at the front."
"I see." West's face relaxed a little. "Good call, then. I agree with him. We deserve a bit of a rest."
Cody tried to smile at that.
"Especially you, Commander," West added, and Cody felt himself tense.
He forced a soft laugh and turned toward the door. "Well, I'd better head over to the mess and get a report from the others. Keep me posted."
"I will, sir." West frowned, but he frowned about most things. Cody told himself not to look too much into it.
Still, the tension creeping up into his shoulders resisted being shaken loose. He paced his breathing as he walked toward headquarters, squinting against the sun right in front of him. It washed the damp permacrete he walked on into a blinding golden-grey brightness.
The distant rumble of vehicles and industrial pipelines vibrated through the empty spaces between the barracks. As Cody passed into the main building's shadow, he looked up at the huge pillar surrounded by statues of clone troopers, the lines of loudly snapping red banners on his left, and the honey-colored stone slab on his right… the monument to the troopers who died in the first battle of Geonosis. Normally he felt an exhilarating sense of pride whenever he passed this way. Sometimes it was more subtle than others, but there nevertheless. Not today.
A few members of the City Guard flanked the scanners inside the door and Cody nodded a greeting to them as they waved him through the security gate. Red armor was in the majority here, especially with so many battalions currently off-world.
He left the high-ceilinged but narrow, grey entrance for the hallway to the various facilities, which included the mess, the gym, the shooting range, the repair stations, and so on. The mess itself was all one noisy room, and as Cody entered, he stared down the rows of tables, picking out the men painted in his colors.
Kenobi had said to have them in good condition and ready for battle by the time their leave was over, and Cody intended to do just that. He paused just inside the doorway and let their voices wash over him, remembering when last he'd been on Coruscant, triumphant, Rex greeting him with that subdued smile. He'd never imagined his next visit could feel so different.
He pressed forward into the scattered laughter and quiet hubbub. Lieutenant Stern was talking to one of the members of his platoon, but stopped as soon as he spotted Cody. The tattooed lines reaching from his hairline toward his eyes made him look older. He stood as Cody approached.
"Commander," Stern said easily, but he left one hand resting on the table.
"Lieutenant," Cody replied. The other men there were mostly members of Stern's platoon. Cody motioned toward the wall and stepped away. Stern followed.
"Something wrong, sir?" Stern asked quietly.
"Not as far as I know," Cody replied, turning his back to the wall, hands clasped behind. "Is there?"
Stern mimicked his posture, but stood sideways, facing away from the men at his table. "Nothing of note."
Cody stared through Stern's guarded face, thinking of Rex, and how reluctant he always was to say what he was really thinking, ever since they'd first met. It was a common trait among his brothers.
"Some of the men," Stern finally admitted, "are wondering how long before we're returned to General Kenobi. But of course we're all most concerned with doing our duty to him, whatever that may be. And, I assume, right now our duty is to… recover."
"Stern," Cody half-sighed in exasperation, tapping a fist against Stern's shoulder. The motion felt both natural and faked. "I asked if something was wrong. And I'm asking brother to brother. Yeah, relax a bit. It's your duty right now, after all."
"Yes, sir," Stern said sheepishly. His voice lightened a bit even as his face remained doubtful. "It's just… disconcerting. If I was chosen to leave the front at this critical time, then that means there was something I did to draw attention to myself. And I'm the only high ranking officer who was chosen."
"That's…." That's not true, Cody nearly said, and heat rose in his face. He looked away, hoping it wasn't visible. "Understandable. But the General stressed that I choose anyone who needed a rest. You've been working hard." Cody held up his fingers and began ticking off points. "Your platoon suffered heavy losses on Clak'dor Seven. Before that, you took over leadership of Flash Company when Captain Gil was injured. I chose you because you've worked harder than any other officer for the past three missions. Now that Gil is back on his feet, he can take care of your platoon. It just made the most sense."
"Oh. Understood, sir." Stern's face gradually opened from its guardedness as Cody spoke. That kind of transformation was something Cody loved to tease out of people. It had been so halting with Rex, coming in sudden starts and stops. And still he hadn't opened up completely, after all these years.
"So," Cody said firmly. "You can tell your men the same thing. They're being given leave as compensation for all the sweat and blood they've put into these battles."
"Thank you, sir. I will."
Cody stepped away from the wall and back toward the table, where the other men sat with emptied trays and restless eyes.
"Sharp, Push… how are your wounds healing?"
Sharp grinned that rookie grin of his, although the chunk that had been scraped off the left side of his face was still raw and stretched looking even out from under the medical patch. His eyelid was misshapen so that it never seemed to close all the way when he blinked, or open all the way either. "Looking better every day, sir. Can't wait for more surgery tomorrow."
"Oh yeah," Push sighed, scratching the shaved patches on the back of his head. "Me too, Commander. New kidney seems to like me so far."
"Good. Any idea where your unit leaders are?" Cody would have just called them on the comm, but the longer he took to do things today, the less time he'd have with his thoughts, which was for the best.
"I think a few of them went to the gym." Push stood slowly, and the others followed suit. "We were going to head there next anyway."
"You're not going to the gym!" Cody said sternly, cutting the air between them with his arm. "You're going to rest! You… you just had surgery, trooper."
"I was just gonna do some weights," Push laughed, but then faltered under Cody's stare. "Uh, yes, sir. I'll go back to the barracks."
"Give it another day, at least." Cody forcibly lowered his voice. "I'll check with West later this week and have him clear you when you're ready."
"Got it," Push sighed.
Cody turned to leave, and the others trailed behind him, nearly a dozen. The rest must have already finished and moved on—there were only a handful of other men from the 212th in view, and they seemed to be just starting their meal. He'd catch them eventually.
"I'll see you guys later," Push muttered to those nearest him, then split off toward the entrance. A couple of the men called back and lifted hands in goodbye. Cody gritted his teeth against the illogical constriction in his chest and turned back toward the gym.
As they walked down the hall, someone spoke up close behind him. "Uh, Commander… when we get back to the front…."
Cody turned just in time to note Sharp whispering Lan's name in a warning tone.
Lan pressed on calmly. "Do you think we'll be working closely with General Skywalker and the Five-Hundred-First again?"
Cody slowed his pace. Some men looked between him and Lan—others looked quickly away.
"That's up to the generals. Why do you ask?"
"Oh, I was just curious, sir, about whether we might be purposely assigned to work separately from them."
"Lan… you're not being very direct." Cody smiled wryly—the trooper was notorious for his roundabout approach. "Something on your mind?"
"Sorry, sir." Lan dipped his head in acknowledgement. "I ask because…." He took a moment to think, and Cody waited patiently. "I'm afraid we might be… not punished, exactly, sir, but… i-is this suspension from duty because the generals are questioning our loyalty, sir? At least for some of us?"
"General Kenobi gave me full control over who to send on leave," Cody said firmly. "And I don't doubt any of you." He hadn't realized the men lived in such fear of being distrusted. "Is there someone you have suspicions about?"
"No, sir!" Lan said earnestly, staring at him.
Cody watched Lan cover up his dismay with a neutral expression. "Got something more to say?"
"Nothing important, sir."
"Mm-hmm. Right…." Cody sighed skeptically and folded his arms. "Look, none of us were sent here as a punishment. The General made that very clear to me. He's just trying to act strategically, keep us in top form. Got it?"
"Yes, sir!" Lan still looked anxious, but Cody decided it would be best not to single him out any further for now. He turned back to lead them to the gym, lengthening his strides.
"By the way," he said over his shoulder. "If any of you see Zenk, make sure he's not doing anything with his hands. He's supposed to be letting them heal."
"Yes, sir," they all said, and a couple of them chuckled.
"It's not a laughing matter," Cody said softly, although he knew they were likely laughing in sympathy for West. "While on leave we have one job, and that's to make sure we and our gear are all in perfect condition by the time we leave Coruscant."
"Yes, sir," Stern said. He was the only one who didn't lapse into total silence. "We'll be sure to pass along the message."
…
Cody stood straight and still outside the 212th's barracks, breathing night air. The dot-sized lights of traffic moved near the edges of the sky, too slow and too regular to resemble shooting stars. There was a large group of his men approaching, but it was getting late. Only one more interview, then. It was incredible how slowly the day had crawled by; he'd checked his chrono at least seven times in the last hour.
Scattered conversation reached him: banal debates on the merits of various blasters and least favorite foods. One trooper was limping noticeably.
"Oliver," Cody called. "Can I have a word?"
"Sir!" Oliver perked up to attention. "Sure thing, Commander!"
He nodded to the trooper he'd been walking silently beside before limping his way over to where Cody stood. Oliver's spry smile didn't falter.
"I was wondering when it would be my turn, sir. Word gets around."
Cody started to walk away from the entrance. "Good. I guess that means you've already checked up on your group for me."
Oliver followed him readily, despite his right leg's resistance. "Oh, yeah. Should I start with the good news or the bad news?"
"Bad news." Cody stopped; they were a sufficient distance from the other men now.
"Okay," Oliver said. "Well, Cratt and Puzzler have barely said a word since we left the battalion. It's not looking good with them, sir. Puzzler didn't even get out of bed until nearly thirteen hundred hours. I didn't order him up, since… like he says, we're here to rest. But I will if you think I should."
"Did West have anything to say about that?" Cody sighed.
"He said it was fine for today."
"Then it is fine," Cody decided. "What about Cratt?"
Oliver shrugged. "He came in late to breakfast and said he was going to swim laps. I didn't see him again until dinner, and he wouldn't say much then either, just that he was walking around."
"Well… keep an eye on him. Make sure he's not wearing himself out. We are supposed to be resting."
"Yes, sir. But I can tell Puzzler we're not under orders for bed rest, right?"
"Not as a general rule," Cody said, watching a ship coming in to dock. "Although, you probably better not dance too much on that leg of yours."
"I'll try to keep it under control, sir." Oliver chuckled and did a subdued, quick little step, ignoring Cody's grimace when his bad knee made it into more of a lurch.
"Don't push it, trooper. That's why it didn't finish healing in the first place."
"Yes, sir." Oliver grinned and ducked his head, shifting weight onto his good leg. "Sorry, sir. I'll set a better example for the men. But it is pretty unusual, being encouraged to lie around. No disrespect, sir, but I'd guess you're feeling restless too."
Cody made a noncommittal noise, not sure what to say. "Would you rather be shoved in a bacta tank for a couple of days?"
Oliver shrugged and relaxed into a more subdued smile. After a pause he said, "Good news is, Thall, Edge, and Ven are doing well. West says give 'em a few more days and they'll be back to one hundred percent."
"Good," Cody said quietly.
Oliver didn't elaborate, and Cody tried to think of more specific questions to ask.
"No disrespect, sir," Oliver said again. "But I've been trying to figure out why the General sent you with us."
"General Kenobi thought it was best for me to be here," Cody said, as neutrally as he could. "I go where I'm needed."
Oliver made a crooked, questioning face. "I… heard from some of the city guards that you were friends with the Five-oh-First's captain."
Cody tried to ignore the searing in his chest. "I was," he said calmly.
"Is that why the general sent you with us, sir?" Oliver asked, after only a moment's hesitation. "Commander Fox says the captain was reconditioned because of disloyalty."
A rush of heat spiked up Cody's spine and into his neck. "I wouldn't believe everything the city guards say, Oliver. Commander Fox likes to think he knows what the generals are thinking, but he has no idea what he's talking about."
"Right… right. Good point, Commander." Oliver's tone shifted immediately into a more formal timbre. "So… is there anything more I should report on?"
"If there is, and you remember it later, you know where to find me. Just keep an eye on Cratt, and go easy on the leg."
"Yes, sir."
Once dismissed, Oliver limped steadily back to the barracks entrance.
"Fox," Cody breathed as he crossed over toward the command barracks. Fox never knew when to shut up. He was going to keep spreading guesses like they were facts, making Cody's own men curious until Cody asked him what he knew about Rex. Cody could just see the smug smile Fox would wear when asked what he thought he knew. It made him want to punch something.
…
Sleep was a long time coming. No matter how often he tried to pull back to formulaic, normal thoughts, his mind kept drifting toward Rex's empty bunk above him.
The night passed in a long haze of restless thought mixed with disjointed dreams. Cody had rejoined General Kenobi, and Rex was there, limping when he walked, but every time Cody tried to point it out, Rex ran ahead effortlessly. Come on! The General gave him a warning look and spoke with Fox's voice, words that made sense when Cody heard them, but were instantly forgotten when Kenobi drew his lightsaber and Cody shot him dead.
…
Fourteen-hundred hours. Cody looked up from his chrono—Gage stared at him expectantly as they circled the inside of the compound. They were coming toward the front doors again now.
"Time to track down the other group leaders, Commander?"
"No," Cody said. "You're the last one. Looks like your men need something to keep them occupied."
"Permission to take them off-base, sir? Or we could have a game of sabacc in the barracks."
"Either one." Cody shrugged. "But doesn't Teyo hate playing cards?"
Gage blinked rapidly in consternation. "Right. Yes, sir. I forgot. I'll pay closer attention in the future, sir."
Cody laughed under his breath. This stint as group leader was the closest thing to a promotion Gage had ever experienced.
"I..." Gage continued haltingly. "I admire your ability to stay mindful of the troops at a time like this, sir. I will learn to do the same."
At a time like this. "At a time like this?" he asked, watching Gage. "What do you mean by that?"
"Well, sir," Gage said, taking a breath. "I only meant that… the men seem uneasy. I've heard a lot of conflicting opinions about why we're here… about why General Kenobi had you bring us here, sir. I'm not sure I believe everything they're saying about Captain Rex, but… most of the other men seem to agree that something happened to someone in the Five-Oh-First. Someone that… you knew well, Commander." Gage finished nervously. "I apologize if I'm out of line, sir. I would just like to clear up any misconceptions being spread in my own group."
Cody blew out a breath, exhaustion settling on him. Here it was again. "And what, exactly, are they saying?"
Gage made a jerky motion with his arm, his urge to gesture being deferred by a strictly attentive stance as they walked. "They're saying, sir… that you… were sent here because Captain Rex was court martialed for some reason I haven't been able to discern in detail. Most people seem to agree he failed an important mission, and… it is suspected that this may have been—at least partially—intentional on his part, sir."
"Intentional?" Cody heard his own voice go rough.
"No one suspects you of anything, sir," Gage rushed, "but dealing with traitors… it's got to be hard on morale. Everyone remembers what happened last time we had to—"
Cody held up a hand and Gage cut himself off. They were crossing the headquarter's main entrance, and the doors had just opened. Half a dozen members of the city guard emerged, escorting a scruffily-dressed twi'lek in binders. Fox led the way.
"Fox," Cody called. "I was wondering where you were. I haven't seen you all morning."
Fox halted, turning his head slowly and deliberately—he probably thought it made him look formal and intimidating, Cody thought to himself.
"Something to report?" Fox asked, as if Cody were one of his own troopers.
"A question, actually. I'd like to clear up a few things."
"Oh." Fox tilted his head just slightly. "Sorry. It'll have to wait. I have duties to attend to." He paused after gesturing toward the twi'lek and his dismissive tone turned earnest. "Unless, of course… it's a desperate situation."
Cody raised his eyebrows to keep himself from glaring. "I can wait."
Fox continued his steady march toward the detention level, probably smirking under that helmet. Cody took a deep breath and turned away down another corridor.
"I'll continue to discourage rumors among the men, sir," Gage said in a hushed tone.
"Good," Cody said tensely, trying in vain to force a relaxed posture. "I appreciate you bringing this to my attention. Tell your troops that any rumors concerning the Five-Oh-First are not our concern. All troops should leave sensitive information up to higher command to disclose."
"Yes, sir!" Gage said, lengthening his stride to keep up.
"Unless you have anything more to report, you're free to return to the barracks. Dismissed."
"Yes, sir," Gage repeated, and immediately broke off to head the opposite direction. Cody continued at the same agitated pace, wondering how long it would take Fox to deal with his prisoner. A direct confrontation was what he really wanted, but Fox did have the convenient excuse of legitimate duties. And a nagging inner voice told him that he was overreacting and playing into Fox's hands.
There was at least one errand left for Cody to run. Forty minutes later, having walked off the worst of his bad mood, Cody walked into the GAR supply dispensary, holding his armor's shoulder piece with its broken antenna. It had been damaged on Clak'dor VII during a dive for cover.
It was all one enormous room, warehouse-like, mostly used to trade broken pieces of armor for new ones. Shelves were filled floor to ceiling with crates and crates of different armor pieces, bodysuits and standard issue repulsor packs and cans of paint in various battalion colors. But there were secured sections near the back which held special issue equipment, for use only with approval from higher up. Cody looked for Supervisor Telkiem, the ever-cheerful Devaronian who was usually stationed at the front desk, asking stories from any trooper who came in. But she was nowhere to be found. Instead a tall, bald human man in uniform emerged from between the shelves.
"Can I help you?" he asked.
"I have clearance from General Kenobi to get a replacement for this," Cody said, holding up the shoulder plate.
"CT number?" the man asked as he approached.
"Twenty-two Twenty-four," Cody said. "My name is Cody. And… you are, sir?"
"The new Supervisor for this facility." He took the offered plate and inspected the broken antenna with a distant frown. "You may call me Supervisor Allard."
He headed for the desk and Cody followed, feeling vaguely put off.
"Excuse me, sir," he said when Allard had seated himself at the computer. "But… what happened to Supervisor Telkiem?"
"Nothing. She has moved on to another job, one she is more suited for."
"What do you mean?" Cody asked, confused by the comment.
Allard acted as if he hadn't spoken. "Twenty-two twenty-four," he mused under his breath as he pulled up the file. "Let me see your wrist." He held up an expectant hand without looking at Cody's face.
Cody hesitated just a moment. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been required to submit to an ID check. Baffled, he held out his hand and allowed Allard to scan the chip embedded there.
"Very good. Come with me."
Allard led the way toward the back, and Cody kept in step behind him, with a small, respectful distance between.
"Sir," Cody finally said, when they were halfway there. "Has something happened? Security seems tighter than the last time I was on Coruscant."
"The Republic is simply taking a closer interest in the efficiency of the military," Allard said—recited, almost. Cody wondered how many other men had asked similar questions. "Given the stage of war we are now in, I'm sure you'll agree it's about time."
Cody wondered what that had to do with Supervisor Telkiem. She had always been friendly and talkative, likable, but never lax in her duties. She had taken great pride in keeping the dispensary perfectly organized, and all the files precise. Perhaps someone had fooled her and managed to get their hands on army gear without authorization.
But speculation was a waste of time—he could leave that kind of thing up to Fox and his men. It was just as likely that she had simply found another job. She had always had the option, he realized. Her job was not necessarily her life as his was for him.
A small maintenance droid was waiting at the section entrance. Once the door was unlocked, Allard sent the droid up to fetch a small case. Inside, set into the padding, was a brand-new antenna.
"There you are. I assume you know how to install it."
"Of course." Cody didn't touch it. "But… that's not the model I had."
"Indeed," Allard said dryly. "It seems your General wants the highest-quality equipment for his troops. He specifically ordered this for your use."
"Oh." Cody lifted it from the case, feeling a churning mixture of alarm and satisfaction. "Well, then."
"Is there anything else you require?" Allard looked and sounded so bored that Cody wondered why he had taken this job at all.
"No, sir. Thank you."
Several minutes later, surrounded by the mind-numbing noise of the repair stations, Cody turned the shoulder plate 360 degrees at eye level, satisfied with his work. The antenna had a wider signal range and could tune in more sensitively to more frequencies than his old one, and he told himself that it just made good sense for the General to want him in closer contact during battles. The General could have ordered it for him before he'd made the decision to send him away, before he had known that he might not be keeping Cody as his Commander in the future. But then… maybe not. Maybe, Cody dared to hope, it was a sign of confidence. A sign that, soon enough, everything would be back to normal again.
…
Two more days passed, filled restlessly with gym time, a more leisurely inspection of the gear, long walks around the compound, and games of dejarik. At dinner, Cody forced himself to chat with Oliver and Ro. They didn't seem to notice his low appetite, and left to hit the showers just as Fox and his men were coming in.
"Ah, there he is," Stern whispered, on Cody's right.
"Who? Commander Fox?" Cody made his voice sound indifferent.
"What's he coming over here for?" Zenk muttered, startled. His hands were bandaged—he'd finally completed the bacta treatments, and could only just hold a spoon.
"You wanted to see me, Cody?" Fox said when he was close enough. Cody bristled at the overly familiar tone.
"Maybe," he said, standing up so Fox wouldn't have the satisfaction of looking down at him. "I'd appreciate it," he continued, with carefully measured calm, "if you would stop spreading rumors. Besides, it's not very professional of you."
Fox put his hands on his hips. "I'm not sure what you're referring to."
"I think he means what you've been saying about Captain Rex, sir," said one of the city guards behind him.
Fox didn't say anything to that, just glanced at the trooper.
"That's right," Cody said quietly, not wanting to give Fox more of an audience. "I don't know what you have against the Five-Oh-First, but areal commander doesn't put others down to make himself look good."
Fox laughed suddenly, a deep chuckle. "Ohh, I see. You think this is personal. You've got it all wrong, Cody. I'm just doing my job."
"How is this doing your job?"
"Hmm." Fox looked around—the nearest eavesdroppers quickly turned their eyes away. "You really haven't heard, then… he didn't share his incriminating information with you, try to get you to come along on his investigation?"
"I'm not here to gossip." Cody shook his head. "I'm sure you also have duties you need to get back to."
"We are on a pretty tight schedule," the city guard trooper said in an eager tone of voice that made Cody think he must be young.
A muffled huff came from Fox and he folded his arms, ignoring the trooper. "Guess I had you two figured wrong. I thought you were his friend."
Cody took a quick, involuntary breath, but stayed silent.
"Well, sir," the trooper said lightly, "I'm sure Commander Cody knows where to find you if he changes his mind."
"Right," Fox said, but didn't move.
Cody wished Fox would take off his helmet once in a while. But he knew why he didn't. It was easier to stare somebody down when they never saw your real face. It was easier to seem invulnerable.
"I don't need to know exactly what you think you heard," Cody said. "I was out there on the front with him. You… weren't. I doubt there's anything you can tell me that I don't already know."
"Hm. Well, then…what's your explanation for what happened to him? Why would Skywalker send his Captain away like that?"
Fox asked it lightly, innocently. Cody felt as if his back had been frozen and then had hot water poured over it. For several seconds, his mind went completely, utterly blank of any structured thought. He couldn't think of a single word to say.
"Yeah. I thought so," Fox said quietly, and turned and walked away.
Cody stood still, unformed words crowding behind his clenched teeth. But anything he could have said would only fuel Fox's derision. There were no words he could find to speak of the way Rex had fallen apart.
He had never wanted so badly to hurt a fellow clone. Not even Slick, traitor though he had been.
"Eh, don't worry about it, Commander."
It took Cody a few seconds to realize Zenk had spoken. When he looked over, Stern was squinting at him, his tattoos shrinking into natural creases.
"He's just jealous, I bet," Zenk added. "Stuck here away from the action."
"Doesn't matter," Cody managed. He sat back down, desperate to change the topic before his mind had a chance to settle.
…
That night, in the barracks, the darkness and sounds of breathing pulled at him, dragged him back to that moment on the ship, the last moment. He could almost hear Rex's voice in his ears, saying his name.
Finally, he got to his feet and opened the crate.
Rex's helmet felt light in his hands, lighter than he expected for something that had such a presence. He sank back down onto the bed, staring, feeling an overpowering weight of shame on his shoulders. He bowed his head, closed his eyes to Rex's insistent gaze, and stayed very, very still, trying not to think. But Rex's weakened voice rose up from back of his mind. I'm sorry… I didn't think it would go this far.
Rex had died believing he was a failure. Cody had seen it in his eyes, heard it in his voice, more honestly than he had ever known Rex to express such fears. Anger turned Cody's hands cold on the helmet. Under his stiff fingers, he felt the grit that had accumulated like another coat of paint in the grooves and niches of the design. The signature of countless battles Rex had survived. He opened his eyes, barely able to breathe. His ribcage and throat seemed incapable of expanding fully; no matter how much he straightened, it still hurt just to inhale.
I won't let him call you a traitor, Cody thought, unable to speak. Nevermind his own sense of pride; as a Commander and as Rex's friend there was no other course of action. The decision burned its way down into his bones, a trembling starting in his gut. He would be lucky to sleep at all tonight, but—he promised himself—that would change tomorrow.
…
Fox wasn't in headquarters. Cody had spent all day wandering its halls, but it seemed Fox really was busy. As far as he could tell, the other Commander never showed up in the mess either.
At about sixteen twenty, as Cody was lingering near the entrance to the holo lounge, catching snatches of the news, his comm beeped.
"Commander, it's West. I've cleared Push to do some weights at the gym. He's headed there now, but you might want to have somebody watch him."
"Copy that," Cody nearly sighed.
"Keen too. If you're there, that should be enough to keep them from overdoing it. Otherwise, I'd ask their group leaders to stick around instead."
"Alright. On my way to intercept." The joke fell a little flat in his weary tone.
"Everything alright, Commander?"
Cody stopped himself from switching off his comm. "Yeah," he said. "Everything's fine."
"Let me know."
Cody cut the line, wondering. Let me know what?
Push and Keen were in a group of about a dozen troopers when Cody spotted them.
"Uh, West cleared me, sir," Push said as soon as Cody was in earshot.
"I know," Cody said, trying to smile. "He just told me. I think I'm going to join—"
Someone stepped on his heels as he stopped dead in the hallway. Fox and five of his men had just merged into the corridor from an adjoining hall.
"Excuse me," Cody muttered. He stepped away from the group, intending to fall in beside Fox, but Fox stopped abruptly as soon as Cody broke from his men.
"Commander Cody." Fox lifted his chin. "Can I… help you?"
"Fox. I think we'd better clear this up once and for all," Cody said, surprised at the calm assurance in his voice. He felt as he usually did before a battle—alert, aware, bracing for adrenaline. "I know you think you've got some kind of advantage, making up lies about other battalions. Where did you hear this information you keep hinting at? Can anyone confirm it?"
"Oh… you mean about Rex?" Fox asked.
"Yes."
"You really want to talk about that here?" Fox looked around, feigning concern.
Cody set his shoulders. "If it's the truth, then it doesn't matter who hears it. If it's not, then the more people who know not to believe it, the better."
"Right…." Fox shrugged. "If you insist. I'm just thinking… if it were me, I wouldn't want everyone knowing I was friends with someone like him."
Cody kept his gaze steady. "Where did you hear this rumor that he was investigating something?"
"I didn't just hear about it. And it's not a rumor. I saw it with my own eyes."
Cody just waited, skeptically.
"He was trying to find dirt on key members of the senate," Fox said, coming a bit closer. "I caught him at it in the library, right after he'd been suspended from active duty." He dropped his voice to near a whisper. "And then he lands this top secret mission on Anaxes, the home of the Republic navy, and manages to cause an interplanetary incident there. Don't tell me that was an accident. I heard he was nearly killed on that mission. Now, let me ask you something. Who on Anaxes would want to kill someone who was trying to save the navy? Unless they knew he was a traitor."
"What?" Cody breathed, venomous anger exploding in his stomach all over again at the word.
"When I talked to him in the library, he kept dropping hints about some kind of conspiracy. Well, I don't know if the Separatists got him as their spy, or what. Rex probably thought he could get away with anything just because he was assigned to Skywalker, and leading the famous Five-Hundred-First. And I guess he did get a better end than a traitor like him deserves; probably his General pulled some—"
Fox's voice sucked away in a gasp as Cody grabbed his helmet, yanked it down and twisted to tear it off, driving the force of his spin into the side of Fox's head with his elbow. Fox grunted and staggered back toward him, red-faced with bared teeth, fist swinging; Cody ducked and returned with an uppercut. Fox hit the ground mere moments before Cody was on him again, fists cracking into cheekbone. Blood rose shining from Fox's nose and lip; voices were shouting, but he couldn't hear them over the rushing in his head. The hallway around him was gone.
"Don't pick a fight with me, Fox,"he snarled. "You barely deserve to wear that armor—"
A punch to his jaw jarred his teeth—he tasted blood from his cheek, but he grabbed Fox by the hair and hit him again as a warning.
"You will stop this," Cody growled, tightening the fist around Fox's hair. "Don't you have anything better to do than to slander a fellow officer?"
"It's not slander," Fox choked out, gasping as he clawed at Cody's hand, "if it's true!"
"Rex is no traitor!" Cody spat. He yanked Fox's head up a few centimeters and threw it back against the floor before getting to his feet. He took one step back, blood dark on his glove and the hem of his sleeve. Two steps. The adrenaline jittered through his skull, burning his eyes. "You feel invincible here, away from the front lines, but you wouldn't last one minute out there. You don't really know war, so you don't know anything about the kind of man Rex was."
Fox lay there for a moment, breath sputtering through his wet lips before he rolled over and staggered to his feet, glaring. One eye was already swelling shut. The other city guards stepped forward almost tentatively, and Cody felt a hand on his shoulder.
"Sir…."
"I'm fine!" he snapped. Then, calmer: "Let's go."
Cody turned to look at his men. Their shocked faces made the wild heat begin to drain away into dread. Some were even averting their eyes. They couldn't possibly believe what Fox was saying. It was ridiculous.
One of the other guards nudged Fox with his offered helmet. "Better not push it, sir. You uh, you don't look so good," he said in a clearly audible undertone. "And I think I hear one of the Admirals coming this way."
"Don't say I didn't warn you, Cody," Fox growled under his breath, jerking the helmet out of his soldier's hand with a glare. "You're just naïve. I see corruption every day, patrolling this city. I know a guilty conscience when I see it." He pulled the helmet down over his scowl before he walked away, a little faster than his usual swagger.
Cody headed down the hall without another backward glance, his knuckles pulsing painfully, fists quivering.
"I'm gonna wash this off," he said, diverting toward the nearest refresher. "You go on ahead."
"Yes sir," said Push. He looked worried.
As Cody approached the sink, he was stopped short by his own reflection. His face was flushed dark, his eyes seemed to burn with hatred from deep under his brow, and a part of him felt satisfied at the sight, knowing that Fox had seen it. He looked down at his shaking hands, took an uneven breath and turned on the water, washing his gloves before scrubbing futilely at the edges of his sleeves, heat gradually seeping through and into his pulsing fingers.
Fox was a fool, an arrogant fool who was just looking for something to lord over the other commanders with, something to distract himself from his failure as a soldier. There was no reason to believe he knew anything about Rex that Cody didn't—how could he? But as Cody watched his own face and tried to breathe, the anger kept seeping like poison, down from his head into his stomach.
There was so much Rex hadn't told him until the last minute, so much he hadn't been able to see. But this just couldn't be true. He shut off the water and tried to force his face back into its usual smooth expression until he could recognize it again. That collected presence was the total of who he was now. Cody, the commander, Kenobi's commander, an officer suited to the Jedi's even temperament.
But he couldn't do it. Disgust continued to pull at the edges of his mouth and eyes, and if he could see it, the other men could. They might take it as confirmation that more was going on than they'd been told. At the very least, his annoyance would come out in other ways and they would take it wrong, close off. It would be better if he didn't join them tonight.
With a deep breath, he put in a call over the comm.
"Stern, it's Cody."
"Stern here, Commander."
Cody turned his eyes away from his own grimace. "I need you to keep an eye on Push and Keen. They've been cleared to use the gym, but West wants someone there to make sure they don't overdo it. Send someone else if you're busy."
"Yes, sir."
Cody took one last look at his pinched eyes and turned away from the mirror. There had to be something he could do to forget about all this.
…