Chapter 20

…

Rex sat in the co-pilot's chair, huddled in the poncho as they came out of hyperspace. The droid kept the ship cold everywhere but Rex's quarters, but after days of being escorted back and forth only once a day from the showers and laundry, he was all too glad to sit shivering in the cockpit when the droid gave him permission. His new black shirt was too thin to keep him very warm by itself, but at least he had an outfit and boots that fit well, as well as a few toiletries to take off the unkempt edge.

So far the droid seemed uninterested in harming him, and even its droning voice was better company sometimes than the blank walls of Rex's quarters. The anxiety that followed him back aboard when they'd left Elrood had been dampened by what he could only assume was a deep exhaustion due to his brain still recovering from the surgery. He was familiar with the energy crash after the pain and adrenaline of a battle wore off. This one was just lasting longer than he expected.

"Our next destination?" he asked, when a blinding star and crescents of planets appeared on the view screen.

"Yes. I calculate we will arrive on the planet's surface in forty-three minutes."

Rex stared at the two nearest planets, wondering which one the droid meant. It had been at least three days since they left Elrood. It was hard to keep track when the droid was the only one with a chronometer.

"You will act as my escort while I offload my cargo."

"Right," Rex said. "And then I have a few errands to run of my own."

"Yes, you may purchase more articles of clothing if you wish. They will be less expensive here."

"Are weapons allowed in this city?"

"Yes. I will be carrying mine. Do not attempt to steal it."

"Hmm." Rex leaned back against the seat. His back tensed; for one irrational moment, he almost felt the planets were alive and reaching for him as he approached. "You know I'm going to need my own weapon one of these days."

"When I have trained you to be loyal to me, human, then I will allow you to carry a weapon."

"Train me to be loyal," Rex muttered, wondering what his brothers would say if they could hear this. "You can't train a clone to be loyal to a tactical droid."

"Human beings are programmed by reinforcing desired behaviors with rewards, and discouraging other behaviors with punishments. It is a survival mechanism. You cannot help but succumb to it eventually. It is why you are loyal to the Republic. You are loyal under threat of death, and under promise of some reward."

"You don't know anything about me or my brothers. It's more than that. We're not a bunch of cowards. We don't follow orders because we're afraid."

"That is why I mentioned the promise of reward."

"What reward?" Rex sighed, already tired of trying yet again to talk sense with the droid, but unable to ignore any offer at conversation. "What reward do you think we're given? We just do it because it's the right thing to do! We're not mercenaries."

"You are programmed to feel pleasure at following orders, perhaps."

"Maybe. It's called a conscience, and it's something every human is supposed to be born with."

He stared at the bright edge of the planet as it grew closer and closer. In some moments, between blinking, he thought he could see dark flecks in the whiteness—space stations? Asteroids? There were lives down there, innumerable strangers like static invading his brain when he tried to think of it. He didn't want to step down into that unknown crowd. He wanted to go home.

Like blood rushing to his head, a wash of sensation flushed through his body, taking him back through his memory to see the sky above Coruscant, feel the presence of his brothers around him, in a gunship, in a hallway, the memory so strong that the cockpit seemed to disappear. He could almost hear their voices, for a moment, the thin familiar beat of orders over the comm. The images faded, but the feelings lingered, as if his entire life as a member of the army was trying to fit in a single moment.

The foreign lives down below filled him instead and surrounded him stiflingly. For a moment, he felt like a member of an endangered species. The universe was full of alien beings he didn't want to know. He wanted to know them less than he ever had before, and now they were pressing in around him, and he hadn't even set foot on the surface of the planet. It didn't matter how many humans or non—they were all the same, all different from him, and yet not different enough for him to ignore. Only others existed… he felt like an empty tunnel that millions were passing through, not a person at all; a motionless observer rather than a soldier for the first time in his life. The galaxy was too enormous and complex to change, wasn't it? He was meant to be unseen from now on. The total invisibility was disorienting, the unnerving truth of being microscopic in the grand scheme of things, and yet caught in the web of all of it. But he had always been only one soldier, he told himself, and he could still be. All that had changed was that he worked alone, now.

"Human!"

Pain shot through his left eye socket and Rex grunted, slapping his hand to where he'd been struck. He blinked, dazed, and saw a metal bolt clattering to the floor. "Ow. Droid! What was that for?!"

TL-89's head was turned fully toward him. "You have been unresponsive for the past fifteen minutes."

"No I haven't!" Rex grunted in frustration, rubbing his eyebrow where a bump was already forming. "You know, you could say something before you go trying to give me a black eye."

"I have been attempting to draw your attention for at least two minutes. Once I determined you were no longer listening to my instructions, I began to question you on your state of consciousness. You did not respond to any of my verbal commands or questions."

"I don't know what you're talking about! I didn't hear any… thing," Rex's head jerked as he did a double-take toward the view screen. The planet was much closer now than it had any right to be, close enough that he could see the glimmer of lights on its dark side. They were passing a space station on the left, and he could see the glowing dots of its windows as well. It felt like he had fallen asleep without realizing it… or perhaps he was still dreaming. "How did… we get here this fast?" he asked breathlessly.

The droid just stared at him.

"Your brain is malfunctioning in the absence of the chip we removed."

"What?" Rex's stomach tightened. "No. Just tell me what you were saying, droid!"

"Shall I begin with my instructions on how to handle this transaction? Were you in standby for that fifteen minute period?"

"Standby? I…." Rex exhaled, trying to remember. But he couldn't. Not a single word. Fifteen minutes. "I wasn't on standby, I was just… thinking." Echo had been on standby, when the chip malfunctioned. Was the same thing happening to his brain, now that it was removed? He pulled it from his pocket for a moment and looked at the little mass of tissues. Could it be that the med droid hadn't removed the chip at all, but some other part of his brain? Or perhaps there was a failsafe built in, meant to destroy normal brain function as a response to the chip's removal.

"You do not remember any of my instructions."

"I'm to be your escort while you offload your cargo," Rex muttered, disturbed. "That's all I heard."

"Your mental deficiency will be inconvenient for me," TL-89 said, adjusting their course as they approached the planet's light side. "You have asked repeatedly for more details on my plans, and you do not listen when I tell them to you."

Rex stayed silent, trying to control the fear trickling through his veins and interrupting his breaths like wires in his lungs. He had never spaced out this badly before. In his room, when there was nothing but silence and memories, that was one thing. Sometimes he caught himself staring at the wall in the middle of physical therapy exercises, or opening his eyes when he hadn't remembered closing them for a few seconds, his mind caught up in abstractions he couldn't fully recall, like fever dreams. Just a few seconds, he had thought, but how could he really know without a chrono? Hours could have passed.

"Do you hear me, human?"

"Yeah," Rex said loudly. "I hear you, droid. I'm listening now. Tell me your plan."

"I will tell you the simple version, so your defective brain can focus on it."

Rex grimaced, arms folded tight to contain his shaking chest. "Fine."

"You are still Jek Novar. The transaction will be simple. You will allow them to inspect the cargo, but not to depart with it until they have paid. If they attempt to do so, I will shoot them. But I predict they will not take that risk. You will hand the payment to me immediately and I will check that it is fair. Then we will attempt to locate Doctor Anzerra."

"Doctor Anzerra?" He looked at the droid. "Who's that?"

"He is a scientist who may be interested in your chip."

"You had a contact all along?" Rex glared, not daring to hope.

"It is not someone I know personally. He will not be aware that we are both defectors. He must not be made aware."

"Will he suspect what I am?"

"I predict he will not, so long as you play your part as my keeper. It will be too unexpected for a clone and a tactical droid to work together."

"So what do I tell him about the chip?" Rex thought for a minute. "Just that it's implanted in a lot of people and I want to find a way to deactivate it quickly. If he's a separatist, maybe he'll believe the Republic does this to ordinary citizens… or prisoners of war…."

"He has expressed dissatisfaction with both sides," said the droid. "Perhaps he will be willing to scan your brain to determine if it is truly damaged. The medical droid said that your brain activity increased after the chip was removed. There is a small chance you are simply over stimulated."

"It did?" Rex asked, before he pulled the memory loose from the drug-muddled fog of that day. He hoped the droid was right. "It did say that. I don't understand. The chip is an inhibitor? It… why would they do this to us? To…" The answer settled in his gut. "To make us focus."

"Unnecessary distractions on the battlefield result in a significant loss of efficiency. For example, droids do not feel pain."

Rex shuddered with revulsion. He looked down at the chip again, dazed at all the sensations he could not find words for. "This is normal?" he whispered. "How does anyone… how can anyone stand this?"

"I do not know how humans can stand their own inefficiency."

"Funny, droid." Rex stood up and began pacing behind the droid's seat. "How do you know all these people, anyway? People like Anzerra, and the medical droid? How long have you been independent? And who is this intermediary you mentioned before?"

"I have an extensive list of contacts from personal experience as well as data salvaged from the ship I last served on."

"So these are all people General Chikset knows."

"The ones we are delivering the cargo to know nothing of General Chikset. They are mercenaries. As for Doctor Anzerra, he is not well trusted by the separatist military. His work is no longer endorsed by them, but he is skilled in his field. The most rational conclusion is that his loyalty is in question."

"Which makes him a potential ally," Rex breathed. The planet was coming closer, and the conversation kept the unstable feeling in his mind contained, although his body still trembled slightly like a stretched wire. "Got it. What's my rank when I'm talking to him?"

"You will not tell him. He is an outlier, and does not have much regard for rank. Playing the part of a confederate soldier may do more harm than good. It is difficult to predict without more data."

"So… then…why is he going to want to hear me out?"

"You will persuade him that the chip is of interest to him. He does not need to know your origins to be interested in understanding such a complex piece of technology."

"Right." Rex sighed. "Guess I have a little while to think it over."

"Yes. I will not speak for you this time. However, I will not be pleased if you are captured."

"Nice to know you care," Rex said dryly. He rested his right arm on the back of the co-pilot's seat as they began to hit the atmosphere.

…

The ramp opened, this time to a damp, slightly sour smell. Rex took in a glimpse of plasteel buildings, mostly weather-stained white, some painted other colors, squareish, crammed and scattered in a hodge-podge that left uneven gaps between. He glanced at the droid and took an experimental step away from it, pushing the hover cart laden with crates. Then he took another. TL-89 followed, step for step, E-5 rifle in hand. It stayed just within arm's reach as Rex stepped down onto the landing pad.

"Now, we wait," said TL-89. They let the carts rest on the ground.

Rex swept the area, feeling naked again without his armor and helmet. The absence of a weapon within reach was even worse. He turned his head—there was movement: a shadow in the corner of his eye or a scuff on the edge of his hearing, probably in one of the many dark windows that peered at them over the nearest paint-smudged walls. The sky was a steely grey. It was a hilly city; he could only see the nearest small valley and the sides of the undulations around him.

"We're being watched," he whispered to the droid, keeping his expression bored.

The droid turned its head steadily left, then right, and said nothing.

Rex tried to find another hint. His eyes and ears were his only defense now, hard as it was to trust them. He settled on a dark alcove set into the fifth floor of a hotel or apartment building of some kind. But no matter how he stared, he couldn't see clear movement from this distance.

He brought his eyes back down seconds before one of the ground-level buildings raised its massive door. Four speeders came through, bearing two Rodians, a tall, heavily muscled blonde woman, and a Qiraash.

Rex glanced at the droid, who nodded just slightly.

"Well," Rex said loudly. "Look who finally showed up."

The Rodians stayed put on their speeders while the woman and the Qiraash came forward.

"Four crates, as ordered," the Qiraash commented to his companion, casually gesturing with his blaster.

"We'll need to inspect them," she said. Her voice was a little higher than he'd expected.

"Naturally," Rex said. He stepped back just a little to let them have a look; he was curious as well.

She pulled the lid off the nearest one and a familiar strong, heady smell filled Rex's nose. Inside were hundreds of little sachets. The Qiraash smiled crookedly even as he recoiled.

"Very good," he said. "You did not cheat us on the quality."

"I believe in honoring my agreements," Rex said easily. The buzz of nerves stayed firmly in the back of his mind. Funny how this came much more naturally now that he was in respectable clothing and wasn't in enormous amounts of pain.

"Nice droid," the woman said. "Did you reprogram him yourself? I heard they're pretty tough to crack."

"They are," Rex said, and left it at that. She raised an eyebrow and tilted her head in a conceding gesture. "If you're satisfied with the shipment, we'd like our payment now."

"Ohoh," the Qiraash said. "We. You and the droid are partners, then?"

"I humor him," Rex quickly covered.

"It takes all kinds," the Qiraash shrugged. "Alright. Here." He tossed a small handled case to Rex, who only just managed to catch it smoothly with both hands.

He quickly hid his left behind the case and tried to hand it to the droid. The droid kept both hands on the rifle.

"So now we'll be on our way," said the woman.

"Not until we've checked that the payment is complete," Rex called. "Come on, sparky, give me the rifle, and you count the change."

The droid dipped its head for a moment, and then made the exchange. The E-5 was heavier than Rex expected, and his left arm almost immediately began to tremble from bracing it. He looked up, hoping the others couldn't see it, and saw one of the Rodians' speeders already hooked up to the crates and pulling away.

"Hey!" he called, lifting the rifle. "Not until we give the order!"

The Rodian said something rapid and incomprehensible in its own language.

"I said drop it!"

The Rodian continued to pull away. A blaster bolt rang out, and without hesitation Rex fired a warning shot at the ground next to the Rodian's speeder. Except his aim wobbled and hit the speeder's engines instead. There was a loud explosion, and the Rodian flew through the air and hit the ground with a wail of pain.

The Qiraash and the woman aimed their pistols at him immediately, while the other Rodian ran to check on his friend.

Rex ducked just as the woman fired.

"Sorry," Rex said as he straightened, lowering his own rifle. "That was supposed to be a warning shot."

"I'm sure," the woman growled in wide-eyed anger.

"The payment is not what we agreed," droned the droid. "There is five percent missing."

"You will take it and go, if you don't want us to kill you," said the woman.

"Unacceptable—"

"Don't listen to him," Rex said over the droid. "I say it is acceptable. Keep the five percent and use it to pay for medical treatment for your friend."

TL-89 wrenched the rifle from his hands and Rex's arm zinged.

"You will pay what you owe us," said the droid. "Or this rifle will misfire again. It is extremely unreliable."

"Try it, droid, and we shoot you and your human master," said the Qiraash. "Nothing personal," he added, glancing at Rex.

Rex already knew there wasn't much cover apart from diving behind the droid. He stepped closer to it.

"Take the shipment," said the droid. "If we ever do business again, I will expect the five percent repaid in full."

"I think it already has been," huffed the woman, guns still trained on them as the Qiraash went back to check on the Rodians.

"She's burned pretty badly," he called back.

"You better leave before he changes his mind," Rex said, more as a warning than a threat.

"We will," said the woman, and stared hard at him for just a bit longer than Rex was comfortable with.

In a few minutes, they had hooked the crates to the speeders and left the way they came, except for the shrapnel of the one Rex had hit.

"Was this another intentional attempt to endanger your own life?" TL-89 shoved him and Rex stumbled back to catch his balance.

"No. I was trying to follow the plan. My arm just…." Rex exhaled roughly. "It didn't cooperate."

"You cannot be trusted with weapons."

"I didn't try to shoot you, did I? It was heavier than I expected. If it were a pistol, I never would have missed!"

TL-89 turned to walk back up the ramp. "Repairs on organic beings are inconveniently time-consuming."

"Tell me about it," Rex muttered. He shoved his left hand into his pocket with frustration. But as he followed the droid, he glanced over his shoulder, unable to shake the feeling that they were still being watched. "Hey. What about that scientist?"

"The area of his last recorded activity is over three hundred kilometers southwest of this position, and there is very little public transportation on Llanic."

"Llanic? So that's where we are… I thought we passed some space stations on the way in. Never heard much about the actual planet though."

"It is largely unregulated except for areas controlled by the Hutts. It is an acceptable beginning place for criminals and beings without allegiances."

"So, beings like you."

"Yes," said TL-89.

Once they were back in the cockpit, cruising over the rolling hills all crowded with pale barnacles of buildings, Rex found himself second-guessing his actions. It didn't matter to him if the droid was underpaid. He had no business risking his life over that when there was something so much larger at stake. He wasn't sure why he had bothered.

"You're still going to help me find Doctor Anzerra?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Hm." Perhaps the droid was harder to annoy than he thought. "Did I just ruin any future business opportunities for you on this world?"

"No. Most mercenaries are familiar with the possibility of deadly force during negotiations. However, it was foolish for you to surrender the missing payment so easily. Again, you show a surprising sympathy toward criminals."

"It wasn't sympathy," Rex argued. "We were outnumbered. Four guns to one."

"Yes. You greatly increased the probability of your own death by firing. I decreased it slightly by taking the gun from you and drawing attention to myself. Be grateful, human."

Rex twisted his mouth in disgust. As he tried to suppress it, he found himself aware of the distance between their ship and the buildings below, and that sense of vertigo hit him again. He closed his eyes but that only made it stronger. Could the chip's removal give him a new fear of heights, of space? No… it wasn't a fear of heights so much as fear of what his brain might surprise him with next. A fear of uncertainty, of never being able to return to the person he had been. Of not knowing whether any mistakes he made were due to a now-permanent change in mind and body, or were just a momentary weakness and lack of judgment.

…

They came in to land in a larger port, and the eerie quiet of the place they had left was completely gone. Here there were eddying crowds of beings of all kinds: Weequay, Muun, Toidarian, Devaronian, Sullustan, Gossam, Bothan, and many Rex didn't recognize. The smell was less uniform but more unpleasant, mixing fuels and foods and bodily fluids with cleaners and scented smoke. The ramp had opened onto chaos.

"Human! Come, I said," the droid commanded. Rex focused in on its white eyes, unnerved that again, he had not heard its first command. "You must walk in front of me. We are going to the market first."

"No," Rex said. "We're going to see Doctor Anzerra first."

He walked past the droid, across the wide haphazardly cordoned-off landing area and into the crowd, hating that he was compelled to glance back to make sure TL-89 was following. His list of contacts was too valuable a resource. Rex had no fear of being robbed—the only valuable thing he had on him was the chip in his pocket. The fingers of his left hand, though they trembled, were wrapped firmly around it.

TL-89 came close in step once it had locked up the ship, although it did not hurry to catch up at first. It knew he would wait. It knew he had no idea where he was going. Rex stopped near an open shop selling unusual weapons. Most were blades, spears, or bows of some kind and seemed more for show, although there were a few bold advertisements: Instant death! Microscopic poison-injecting needles on blade's edge, for guaranteed victory!

"So, which way is it?" he asked the droid.

"Unknown. He may not reside on this planet any longer."

"I thought you said you know where he lives!"

"I did not. As I said, this is where his last recorded activity took place, and it is rumored that he lives on the planet's surface."

"Rumored." Rex shook his head and sighed. "So what was his last recorded activity?"

"Brief, uncooperative contact with separatist agents who interrupted a transaction between himself and a supplier of rare plant matter from Syned."

"And where was that?"

"I have the coordinates." TL-89 pushed its way through the nearby crowd and Rex hurried to keep up. "It was in the Quanelt District, two point four kilometers north-northeast," said the droid, when they were standing side-by-side again.

Rex turned to the left in front of the droid and crossed in front of several more busy shops and a food stand which belched a musty, spicy steam from the various pots behind its counters. He navigated the crowd with subconscious ease once he set his mind to moving forward, and it gradually thinned to a more manageable consistency. The buildings became higher, spaced slightly further apart, and fenced with featureless walls—except where self-proclaimed artists had left their touch.

As he walked, Rex tried to think of what to say to Anzerra. From what the droid said, the doctor also seemed to be a mercenary of sorts. Why else would he be living here? The buildings became cleaner and sturdier-looking as he went on, the smells milder, but Rex still couldn't imagine anyone happily choosing to spend his life in such a place. The reckless, desperate, or greedy intentions of everyone around him were easy to see.

"Is he dangerous?" Rex finally asked the droid in an undertone, as they passed a group of buildings cobbled together from gutted ships. "Anzerra. What's his criminal record?"

"Officially, he has been fined for dealing with illegal substances in his scientific work. I know of no violent crime associated with his name, but the record may be incomplete."

"I wonder what kinds of illegal substances, and what for," Rex muttered to himself.

"Your options are limited if you do not wish your chip or your life to fall into enemy hands."

"I know that." Rex took a deep breath and stopped at one of many not-quite-intersections, where the gaps between buildings were wider than usual and seemed to correspond with a parallel opening on the other side of the street. Unlike in Elrooden, people didn't seem scared or angered by the droid who shadowed him—when they did glance up from their street-side dealings, their faces showed only curiosity, territorial wariness, or indifference.

"This way… Master Novar," TL-89 droned, and took the lead, its elbow deliberately bumping against Rex's left arm as it passed.

The road widened and dipped steeply, and the surface became rough, stripped with shallow gouges Rex guessed were for giving traction to vehicles in bad weather. Some kind of yellow moss or mold grew in the cracks. His thoughts wouldn't form into a coherent plan; it felt like they were broken in pieces, each piece walking away with each being that passed him on the road. All that held still in his mind was the name. Anzerra. Anzerra. Meaningless.

When the droid pulled him up onto the wide threshold of a cantina, Rex jarred himself to a stop.

TL-89 stopped too and pointed at the no droids allowed sign. "You must enter alone."

No. Rex's head felt full of static, and there was even more noise, more beings beyond the dim entrance. It was all seeping into him like the humid, smelly air. He took a deep breath. That was ridiculous. He wasn't afraid, but… taking another step felt like taking one more bite of unappetizing food when his stomach was already full.

"Go," TL-89 said, shoving some credits at him.

Rex took the credits, squared his shoulders and stepped through the doorway into the noise.

It wasn't that loud. Not really. The music was relatively melodic, no vocals, the interior mostly lit with reds and violets. Most of the clientele were seated, but nevertheless they seemed to be taking up every inch of the tiered room. Rex had never had a problem with crowds before. Crowds came with being a clone. Closed-in spaces, noise, flashing lights, unpleasant smells… it was all part of being a soldier. And now he could barely take another step.

He did take another step. Soon he was down the stairs and up to the counter, staring into the enormous nostrils of the Orfite bartender.

"You look a little spaced, kid," the Orfite chuckled, leaning on one beefy arm across the bar. "Need a hit? I've got some great tablets for this stim mask here. First-time discount special, even."

The mask was attached to a small unit on the tender's belt, a faintly colored liquid sloshing inside.

"No thanks. I'll just have a drink. I'm looking for someone."

The Orfite's wide grin faded a little. "Bounty hunter, eh?

"No." Rex laid every credit the droid had given him on the counter, but kept his hand resting on the pile. "Have you ever heard of a Doctor Anzerra?"

"Anzerra?" The bartender scratched at thinning black hair, staring hard at the bottle chandelier on the ceiling. "What kind of doctor is he?"

"A scientist," Rex said. "Studies some kind of biology, I guess."

"Some kind of biology…." The Orfite laughed, snuffling a little. "Friend, everybody 'round here studies some kind of biology."

"They do?" Rex paused, confused and barely hopeful, until he saw the human couple in the corner the bartender was gesturing toward. "Oh. No, I think Anzerra studies plants and… cybernetics, maybe. I heard he ran into some separatist officials here while trying to buy a rare plant from… Syned. Yeah, Syned. Does any of that sound familiar?"

"Hmmm. Oh!" The bartender smacked the counter so hard the glasses rattled on each end, and the customers glared. "You mean that Anomid fellow! That was weeks ago."

"Yes," Rex said earnestly, before he could hesitate. The droid hadn't mentioned Anzerra's species, but all the same. "You do remember, then."

"Oh, yeah. He never came here more than half a dozen times, I'm sure. Hasn't been back since those suits gave him trouble. Sorry."

"You must know something more about him," Rex insisted. "Where does he live? Is it close by?"

"Buddy, I can count the number of customers' addresses I know on one hand." The enormous, spread fingers lifted toward his face and Rex stepped back an inch, fingers tight around the credits. "More than half of the people who come in here are just passing through, even the regulars. I didn't even know the guy's name until you told me."

Rex sighed. "Do you know where I might find a lead?"

"Sorry. I don't usually tangle with that sort on my down time. But if you hang out long enough, all kinds of people pass through. Maybe you'll spot a scientist who knows him. Now, you want something hard?"

Rex looked up at the menu, calculating the average price of a drink. The Orfite watched him, ogre-ish face skewing more and more with each second.

"You've got enough for anything on the menu. Where you from, anyway?"

"I know," Rex said, and slid a portion of the credits across the counter. "Let's just say I bought a drink and call it even. I've got to be moving on."

"Hm. Works for me, I guess." The bartender swept the credits with one hand into the other. "Good luck."

Rex turned to leave, swimming step by step through the atmosphere of the bar, back out into the shallower sensations of the street.

"Nothing," he whispered before the droid could ask. "No leads. The bartender remembers Anzerra, but last he came in was weeks ago."

"Six weeks and two rotations," TL-89 said.

"Didn't know anything about him." Rex took a step away from the droid and stopped. "There has to be more information from your files we can use to find him. Isn't there some kind of scientific community he might be part of that would know how to contact him?"

"The files are incomplete. The CIS military did not keep open records of their observations of Anzerra once he was deemed suspect."

Rex held out the remaining credits to the droid. "Then we'll just have to track him down ourselves."

TL-89 put it away in the pouch across its chest. "I have more business on Llanic to attend to. You will assist me. I will allow you to look for leads until we are due to leave the system."

Rex nodded once, bracing himself against the frustration and fear of failure. Maybe the droid would stay good on its word. Maybe some of the people TL-89 was doing business with had heard of Anzerra. If he could just get one good lead before the droid's patience ran out, before his own mind unraveled too much, that might be enough.

Wiping the sweat of his palms on his pants, Rex turned to follow the droid through the dizzying dream of neon lights, invasive stares and a tilting planet. How long had he spent in the bar?

"It got dark all of a sudden," Rex murmured, with a glance between the buildings at the lumpy bruise-colored clouds overhead.

"We are near one of the poles of this planet. The sun appears to remain close to the horizon during all daylight hours."

So at least he hadn't lost any more time in standby. "I'd hate to see how warm it is near the equator."

"We may travel there, if business requires it. We will be negotiating to transport some items to the stations in orbit tonight."

"Great," Rex breathed, wishing the sour, humid air wasn't so heavy in his lungs. All of this would be worth it if Anzerra agreed to help. "I can't wait."

"You would do well to reconsider your plan, human."

"And why is that?" Rex kept his voice low.

"Consider the effect that your surgery has had on your mental functions. I predict that deactivation in the rest of your kind would result in the same insanity."

"Insanity?" Rex muttered. "I'm not crazy."

He swallowed the tightness rising in his throat. Fives' head had been shaved, that night at the warehouse; he had removed his chip, Rex was sure of it. If this kind of deterioration had happened in his mind too, maybe that was what made Fives act so unlike himself, so afraid.

I'm not crazy!

Fives was right about the chip. He had to be. But he could have been crazy, too. Unbalanced. The same shame and doubt Rex had felt the night he said goodbye to Cody rushed over him as he walked through the crowd, that nagging fear that all this time his judgment was impaired, that he was making connections where there were none, and removing the chip was a mistake. He felt along the edge of its casing in his pocket, trying to stay on the street and not let his mind or feet wander into the groups of bystanders in dark corners. This feeling wasn't normal, and it might only get worse.

What would happen to the army if every clone suddenly found themselves in this state of mind, losing faith in the Republic, in their own thoughts—hallucinating? The chaos could be nearly as awful as the nightmares. After all, Fives had grabbed impulsively at Rex's pistols, had at least acted ready to shoot one of his own out of panic.

But even if General Skywalker were here now, full of anger and disapproval, using that same voice he'd used in Fives' last moments… Rex would never pull a trigger on him by choice, no matter how afraid or confused. Better the Republic be shaken by a little confusion than be overthrown by one man controlling millions of human droids. He knew his men in the 501st would feel the same. Cody would feel the same.

"Human."

He jerked out of his thoughts to see the droid watching him as they walked. "What?" he snapped, heart sinking. "What did you say?"

"I said 'Human.'"

Rex frowned. "What do you want?"

"I was testing your awareness. You must be attentive when we meet with our next contact."

Rex looked away from the droid's glowing eyes. He tried to stay at the outer edge of the wordless labyrinth his mind kept falling into, to match the noise in his mind with the sight of so many beings moving around them in the street. The way looked unfamiliar in the dark, until he managed to spot one of the shipwrecked buildings they'd passed earlier. He corrected course, took slower breaths and longer strides.

"I'm aware," he muttered to the droid. "I know exactly what's at stake."

…