Author's Note: Wow, so I meant to have this chapter and the following one up weeks ago. But then my life kind of got insane and then I rewrote large sections and reorganized it. So... It was delayed. Anyway. Now you get a DOUBLE CHAPTER! And I will finally explain what I'm doing with the chips. I hope you enjoy it. -Em
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Chapter 20: Parting
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two and a half years prior
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Rex was exactly where Ahsoka thought he would be, beside the transport going over his gear one last time. It was strange to see him dressed in civilian clothes, even if he still stood with the ramrod posture of a soldier. He hadn't been too thrilled about leaving his usual kit behind, but going behind enemy lines to assist the Onderon rebels was a different kind of battlefield. Ahsoka could feel his unease about the mission, echoing her own.
"Hey Rexter," Ahsoka greeted him casually. His head jerked up sharply and he pinned her with a suspicious look.
"You're early," he stated.
"I'm early sometimes."
Rex continued to stare at her suspiciously and Ahsoka fidgeted with her bracers before she could stop herself. Rex's gaze zeroed in on the nervous movement.
"Alright," Ahsoka threw her hands up, "go ahead and say what you're gonna say."
"Are you capable of this mission, Commander?"
"What? Of course I am! I mean, I've never done anything like this but I'll have Master Skywalker and Master Kenobi. I mean, how hard can it be?" From the deepening of his frown, he didn't buy her false assurance. Ahsoka sighed heavily and wrapped her arms over her chest, holding her elbows.
"Lux Bonteri is there," Rex stated. She had told him about her disastrous visit to Carlac with the Separatist Senator's son.
"Yeah," Ahsoka mumbled and looked at the ground.
"Are you worried about what he might do?" Rex asked.
Ahsoka glanced up with wide blue eyes, her chin down and her lips pressed together tightly.
"Or what you might do?" He asked, and Ahsoka looked down again.
"I don't know. I mean," she glanced around the flight deck furtively, "Master Skywalker is always telling me to be 'mindful of my feelings' but then not to 'be controlled by my emotions'. I mean, that's why the Jedi aren't allowed attachments. But he isn't exactly… impartial when Senator Amidala is in trouble. How will I know what feelings I'm supposed to listen to."
"You think you will act the same way around Bonteri, the General does around the Senator?"
"How else do you explain what happened on Carlac? I let him get the drop on me and I didn't drag him back to Mandalore—lightsabers or no lightsabers."
"You succeeded in protecting the indigenous people from the Death Watch and rescued Bonteri from two attempts on his life."
"Yes but…"
"You will make the right decisions—whatever your feelings for this boy."
"How do you know?" She insisted.
"Because you are asking me about it right now. If you think your emotions for him are affecting you, consider what you'd do if it was me or another trooper in his place."
"Rex…" Ahsoka sighed. "It's not that easy."
"I know," he said in a clipped tone. Before she could pin him with a curious look, Rex stood up quickly and shouldered his pack, snapping immediately to attention.
"Generals," he said sharply and Ahsoka turned to see Anakin and Obi-Wan making their way to the transport. She never got the chance to ask him what he had meant by that statement.
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two and a half years later
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Rex's HUD led him to an unmarked doorway. It was identical to the other doors on the long nondescript hallway. The hallway itself was identical to the hallways above and below for ten levels in each direction. The entire building was empty for renovation, which made it an ideal place to hide a clandestine laboratory. There was enough space to house a guard of troopers, their small fortune of armaments, and the equipment they needed.
Rex readjusted his grip on his new, unfamiliar blaster. It felt too light and flimsy in his hands. On the forward grip the name "Jan" was scratched into the paint. Rex missed the solid weight of his DC-15s, the only weapons that had been his, not property of the Republic. They were probably discarded somewhere on Shili, where Ahsoka dropped them.
Rex had barely paused before the door before it opened. A mongrel trooper stood casually on the other side. Rex saw the chin of his helmet dip as the man looked him up and down.
"So you're the new guy," he said. Rex snapped to attention in his good-trooper-act.
"Private IS-7567 reporting, sir." He threw in the 'sir' for good measure.
"Come on in," the mongrel sighed, "and try not to puke in your helmet."
I'm no shinny, Rex wanted to quip back, but it didn't fit his obedient-drone-act. He passed through two sets of doors into a large white laboratory. The walls were hung with rigid white sheeting and the floor was sloped to a central drain. A ring of folded mechanical arms was mounted directly above the drain. Lab counters of pale stone ran along each wall. One side of the lab was dominated by a row of transpariseal vats and in the center of the room was a gurney with its restraining straps hanging loose from the sides. Rex swallowed thickly; it was the laboratory from his nightmares.
Rex took his position beside the door across from his partner. It was a few minutes before he heard footsteps in the hall. The doors opened for troopers escorting a bound and gagged prisoner. He struggling weakly between them followed by a tall droid with an oblong head and long manipulator arms. It rolled on a platform of small wheels, quickly speeding around the room. The stormtroopers secured their prisoner to the gurney. He was a tall, pale, plain looking human emaciated and exhausted from captivity. He was too weak to fight back, but his face was set in determined defiance and his muffled protests were loud in the silent laboratory.
Without a word the other Stormtroopers left and the doors swung shut behind them. The droid buzzed around the room moving equipment and containers in an ordered frenzy of multi-jointed arms. It hooked the prisoner up to a variety of monitoring devices that displayed a stream of meaningless shifting numbers and lines.
The side door opened from a small office and a dark skinned woman in a long white coat shuffled into the lab. Doctor Tahmina Orsa looked more exhausted than ever, with heavy shadows making sunken half-moons on her shallow cheeks.
"The subject is prepared, mistress," the droid said in a vaguely female voice.
"Thank you, ZeeNine," Orsa said hollowly. Like she was sleepwalking, she crossed the lab to a refrigerated transpari steel cabinet of small bottles. The prisoner watched her with wide eyes and panted in his panic. She chose one and injected the clear liquid into the prisoner. He struggled against his bonds and tried to shake off her firm grip. Rex shuddered at the memory of those cold fingers and Orsa's firm grip. She didn't look up at her prisoner, meet his eyes, or speak to him. The drug acted quickly. The prisoner's eyes drooped into half-lidded listlessness and his breathing slowed. He went limp in his bonds.
With an impassive face Doctor Orsa monitored the prisoner through her machines and dictated notes to the droid, Z9. Rex hardly recognized her speech as Basic, it was riddled with numbers, codes, and formulas.
I don't know why the mongrel was worried I'd be sick, Rex thought after the first two hours, I've seen a needle before.
An hour later the Doctor sat down on a high stool and said casually over her shoulder, "Begin harvesting."
The droid buzzed into frantic activity. It hooked up a machine to the man's leg with long clear tubes. The tubes filled with sluggish, bright red liquid that ran through the whirring machine and then down another clear tube back into the prisoner's leg.
The machine ran for an hour, then beeped sharply and fell silent, the last of the red liquid draining down the tube back into the prisoner strapped to the gurney.
"We have sufficient material," the droid declared.
"Thank you, ZeeNine," Orsa said over her shoulder without looking up from her datapad. "Begin generating the bio-mater."
"Yes, mistress," the droid said. It pulled a vial of gelatinous liquid from the machine and buzzed away to a far wall of transparisteal vats. The longer Rex looked at them, the more familiar they seemed. The droid turned them on and they filled with liquid fed by a multitude of tubes. Rex realized with a sickening jolt why they were familiar. They were an altered and miniaturized form of the cloning vats Kaminoans used to grow the clone army. He had seen thousands of them as a child. His stomach flopped uncomfortably, and he forced himself to look away.
Rex was immensely grateful when he was relieved for lunch break, but he couldn't stomach food. It wasn't just them memory of the glowing vats that soured his apatite. The old guard sat in a huddled group at one end of the cafeteria table, shooting suspicious or blatantly hostile looks at the new recruits. Rex and the few mongrels that filled the vacated positions in Orsa's guard sat in complete silence, not looking at each other and trying not to look at the other end of the table. Rex was almost as relieved to return to his post and the comfortable privacy of his helmet.
Small masses had appeared suspended in the liquid of the vats when Rex returned. He repressed a shudder. Rex's shift was almost over when the droid began buzzing around the tubes, extracting the small blobs of flesh. Orsa inspected them each individually, finally choosing one and taking with her back to the prisoner's side.
"Begin the insertion process," she told ZeeNine. Without hesitation the droid went to the head of the gurney and began shaving away the prisoner's hair. Rex got a heavy feeling in his stomach that became a gaping pit when the droid backed away and the mechanical arms unfolded and dropped from the ceiling. Small sharp tipped drills and spinning saws unfolded from the arms and descended on the prisoner.
That's what he meant about being sick, Rex thought as he tried not to watch too closely as the living man's head was cut open. Rex had seen skulls cracked open before more times than he wanted to think about. The first time he'd pulled off a brother's helmet in a live fire exercise and found brain-mater spilling from it he was violently ill. He could hardly bear to eat for days and the nightmares of that first experience followed longer than other more terrifying images. It all came rushing back when the droid removed top section of the man's skull, revealing the grey organ inside.
Orsa carefully placed the red fleshy blob from her selected transparsteel slide in a strangely flat, thin syringe attached to one manipulator arm. The arm spun around on its circular track and maneuvered above the exposed brain. With a little prodding and a sharp hiss the arm ejected the fleshy blob into the prisoners brain. The man barely flinched and his face didn't give any indication he was aware of the gaping hole in his skull. The droid injected the man with another drug, removed his gag, and backed away.
"Insertion complete, mistress" the droid.
"Thank you, ZeeNine," the Doctor said. She moved her stool to the man's side and picked up a datapadd and stylus. She wrote silently paying the prisoner no mind. In a few minutes the man started to wake up. He looked around in confusion. His breathing sped up and then hitched once. He gave a soft sob and started crying silently, hanging limply in the straps restraining him. Orsa didn't look up until Z9 said, "acclimation period complete."
"Thank you, ZeeNine. Begin recording," she said and a hollo-cam lowered from the ceiling. Finally she looked up at her prisoner, and Rex saw her flinch and her hands shake.
"State your name," she read from her datapadd.
"Harther Farn-Keel," the prisoner answered, his voice defeated and miserable.
"Where were you born?"
"Raxus."
"Who is Heather Loran?"
"Part of my cell and my friend," he answered with a sob. "She led us."
"Where is she now."
"Kessel."
"Who else was part of your cell?"
Her dry questions and the prisoner's compulsive responses continued until Rex and his partner were relieved by the night-shift. The droning voice echoed in Rex's head, long after he climbed into his new bunk and forced his eyes closed. The Doctor's monotonous questions followed him into his dreams where his own head was cracked open and the mechanical arms were rearranging his brain with whirring tools, moving his memories around, changing his thoughts and cutting out bits of who he was. Rex slept in fits, jerking out of his nightmares only for exhaustion to drag him back into the white lab to the hard, cold gurney and Tahmina Orsa's off-color eyes
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one year prior
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Ahsoka leaned against the balcony railing overlooking the city of Iziz from the grand palace rising at the city's heart, but her thoughts were light-years away, still on Coruscant. Her short, but eventful assignment to Senator Emala's guard had left her with a lot to think about. The short hyperspace trip from Coruscant to Onderon hadn't been nearly enough time to figure out how to explain how Captain Rex had come back into her life to the Onderon Senator.
She was sure Lux would see him as just another member of the GAR that had abandoned her, and, worse, he would question her kindness. Ahsoka wasn't sure how to make him see Rex was more than that. He had taught her how to survive, saved her life as often as she saved his, watched her back through every bad decision and foolhardy charge… Rex had been her loyal Captain first and her fast friend second.
With the ranks stripped away, for the first time, they were just friends—something she never thought possible. Like her relationship with Lux, her relationship with Rex was changed when she left the Jedi detachment behind. She wasn't the child she had been and he wasn't the rule-bound soldier she had first met. Now that he was no longer her Captain and their lives were not constantly at risk, she didn't have to fear caring for him. Where does that leave us? Ahsoka wondered, looking out across the familiar city without really seeing it.
To complicate maters, she had never found the right time to tell Rex about her new relationship with Lux. It wasn't something either of them advertised, given his position and her very public history with the Jedi. She reasoned it was something she would tell a friend. But always found a reason to skip the subject. Ahsoka wanted to think it was nothing, but a nagging feeling kept her frowning at the skyline.
"Sorry to keep you waiting," Lux said, coming up behind her, a little out of breath but still managing to appear composed. Ahsoka turned, pulling herself out of thought, and forced a small smile. He stepped up to the railing beside her and she tilted her head to let him peck a kiss on her lips.
"I didn't know you'd be stopping by," he said cautiously. "Did I miss a message again?"
"No," Ahsoka said, shrugging, "I was just passing through."
"On your way back to Shili then," Lux said with a resigned sigh. Ahsoka felt her hopeful mood slip away in an instant. It seemed the first thing they talked about was always about why or when they would be separated.
"How was Coruscant?" Lux asked, pushing on to new topics. "You had to pick the one week I wasn't there of course."
"I didn't pick it," Ahsoka snapped defensively. "I don't tell terrorist when to target Jaina."
"I know, Ahsoka," Lux hurriedly backtracked, "I wasn't blaming you."
She groaned softly and looked away, the tension leaving her face as quickly as it had arisen. "Forget it. I've had a stressful week."
"Did something happen?" He bent to see her face better.
"No… not exactly. I was just thinking…" Ahsoka glanced at him apprehensively. "What are we doing, Lux?" she asked him softly.
"You mean dating?" He kept his tone deliberately light and raised one eyebrow. Ahsoka frowned at him.
"I mean we see each other now and then when our work allows, but you're tied to Coruscant, and I'm bound to Shili. There are a million things we never find the time to talk about, and when we do find the time, we spend half of it fighting over…"
"Petty misunderstandings?" Lux offered.
"Exactly," Ahsoka said emphatically then sighed.
"Things are just a little crazy right now and we're both stressed. Things will get better when this war ends?"
Ahsoka gave him a dubious look with one eyebrow marking raised. Lux's optimism held out for a few moments, but he deflated with a sigh under her sharp stare.
"You're right, and I know you're right. Honestly, I've seen this coming for a while."
"Really? I… didn't. I guess I haven't had a lot of time to think about us recently."
"I know. That's why I knew it was coming." Lux traced the marking on her cheek gently with his fingertips. "You're just not an easy person to say goodbye to, Ahsoka."
"I'm sorry," she said miserably.
"Me too," he said with a heavy sigh. "I'll always be your friend though," he assured her, "after everything we've been through I don't think I could be anything less, or more."
"Thank you, Lux," Ahsoka said, with a strangely incongruent sense of relief. She still cared for Lux. Like he said, she too would always be his friend after everything they had endured. A part of her was sad to leave Onderon without his usual goodbye kiss. She would miss the company and support he had given her after she left the Jedi. But another part of her was hopeful for the future. She remembered sitting in the bar with Rex joking about the oddities of politicians and the ridiculous gossip that filled the senate halls. It was something she could never have done with Lux, a senator himself. She found that she was looking forward to more moments like that.
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one year later
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Vorpa woke up feeling stiff. It took her a minute to realize why. She'd fallen asleep in her desk chair. The sun was streaming through the high windows, telling her it was late morning. She leaned back in the uncomfortable position she'd awoken in for a long silent minute, her ears perked. The hanger beyond her door was totally silent. She frowned and sat up with a heavy sigh.
What do you expect? She asked herself. You eavesdropped on him, pried into his life and then insulted him… again. She rubbed hard at her stinging eyes and stood up with a groan. No point dwelling on it, she thought.
But she did. She procrastinated the rest of the morning away, restlessly glancing at the door every few minutes. Finally she gave up being productive. She pulled out her beskad and drilled with it till she couldn't think of anything else but the burning of her arms swinging the heavy blade and how the razor sharp beskar threw blood splatters when it met flesh.
She barely heard the knock on the hanger door over her heavy breathing. She stopped still, with her back to the door, debating if it had been her imagination. The longer she waited, the less sure she was there had been any noise at all. She marched to the door to settle the mater and threw it open, fully intending to give whoever had interrupted her a terse dismissal.
A'den was leaning against the doorway. The visor of his light-orange-brown helmet reflected the bright sunlight back at her. Vorpa squinted at him, her mouth open in dumb shock. She licked her lips and said the first thing that came to her mind.
"You've never knocked before."
"You've never told me to leave before," he countered without pause. With his helmet on she couldn't judge his expression and his voice was neutral. Her heart pounded against her breastbone. She adjusted her grip on her beskad nervously a few times.
I didn't want you to leave for good, she thought to him, but all she said was, "Did you bring caf?"
He laughed and held up a thermos. "Laseema's best," he promised. Vorpa bit her lip against a smile and ducked her head, stepping out of the way in silent invitation. A'den took off his helmet and stepped inside. He put a hand under her chin, lifting her face. Her grip automatically tightened on her beskad.
"Don't hide your smile," he said, "you're beautiful when you smile." Vorpa was too shocked to respond.
When was the last time anyone called me beautiful? She wondered.
A'den dragged two empty crates together for seats and poured them cups of the steaming drink from his thermos. The smell made Vorpa realize she hadn't eaten anything all morning. She leaned her sword against her crate and accepted her cup with mumbled thanks.
For a moment they drank in silence.
"I can't stay," he said solemnly. "I came to tell you I won't be around for a while." The caf tasted suddenly sour in Vorpa's mouth.
Is he still angry with me? Is he just trying to break things off easy? She thought. He might never come back for all I know.
"You could have commed," she said. Save us both the trouble of an awkward goodbye; I've had enough of those.
A'den leaned across the short distance catch her bottom lip between his in a short restrained kiss.
"I couldn't say that over a comm," he said when he pulled away.
Vorpa's mind was still trying to catch up to her soaring heart. She swallowed and nodded. "Yeah, I guess so," she replied and hid behind her cup of caf. When she glanced up A'den was staring at the far wall of the hanger without seeing it.
"How are things at home?" She asked and his frown was enough of an answer. "Is that why you won't be around?" She asked him.
"Sort of," he said. "Our friend, the one who's missing, might have shown up. We're going to look for her. Prudii doesn't think there's anything to find but… I'd rather know for sure. Etain is still… She gets better and then crashes further down. Darman, her husband, refuses to give up on her. I can't tell if Kal'buir is trying to prepare Dar for the inevitable or if he's hanging onto hope too. He hardly sleeps anymore, always keeping an eye on one of them."
A'den's voice hitched and he cursed under his breath. He put aside his cup and stood quickly, moving away and pressing his hands over his bright eyes. Vorpa followed him. She stood in front of him and gently pulled his hands away with a loose grip on his gauntlets. There were wet patches on the palms of his gloves.
"My mother would say, 'Ke'haaranovo pitaai shi'meh gar copaani haaranovo ashna vurel baati'," she repeated words she'd been told a long time ago. Only hide your tears if you are ashamed to have cared at all.
A'den shook his head slowly and his response was quiet and heavy.
"Nu'cuyi pitaai par val'aaray," I'm not crying because they're in pain, he said, looking at her hands around his. "Cuyi pitaai par ner neverd'la. Ni copaani haaranovor ibac." I'm crying because I'm helpless. I am ashamed of that.
Vorpa didn't know how to respond. There were no words that could change that. She dropped his hands and stepped closer to him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. Hesitantly his arms wound around her waist, pulling her slightly closer till the plates of their armor touched.
A'den forced himself not to cling to her, crush her to his chest the way he wanted to. He knew she still couldn't allow herself to be that vulnerable to him. Holding her lightly was already the closest she had let him come to her. Even when she kissed him, she always had a weapon within reach if she needed to protect herself—never letting him get the upper hand on her. But with her arms around his neck, his arms locked around her, she was as near to his mercy as she had ever been.
All too soon she pulled away and A'den let her go reluctantly. Her cheeks were deep green with her blush and it made him smile fondly. She stepped away to pick up her cup again.
"You don't talk about your mother," he said cautiously. Vorpa drained her cup and set it back on the crate. She picked up her beskad and turned to look at her ship, away from him.
"I haven't talked to my mother in years," she said with repressed anger. She glanced back over her shoulder at his curious look. "She could never find it in herself to forgive me for killing my father." She answered his unspoken question. Before he could respond she cleared her throat loudly and said, "I have things to do today."
He bit back his words and gathered the thermos. He came up behind her and kissed her cheek gently.
"Ven'urcye mhi, Vorpa." We'll meet again.
He glanced over his shoulder once as he left and she was smiling at him, her chin up and her eyes bright.
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Iziz, the capital city of Onderon, lay spread before Ahsoka, looking gilded in the light of the setting sun. She leaned against the balcony of the royal palace heavily and frowned. Somehow she'd expected the view to be changed, but it looked the same as the first time she had seen it.
That first mission to Onderon had been one of the hardest she ever took on, for all the wrong reasons. Battle droids were a lot easier to dismantle than her-own doubts. Rex was the only person she voiced them to, just before they boarded the transport with Anakin and Obi-Wan, but he was the only she didn't feel giving her suspicious, appraising looks during the mission. He hadn't mentioned it during their time on Onderon. He also had his hands full training the ragtag recruits of the Onderon Resistance. She had kept his words of advice in mind through her mission. It surprised her how much easier it was to be objective with Lux than it was with Stella. The entire mission had been a struggle to remain unbiased and detached—and she wasn't entirely sure even years later she succeeded. The unresolved feelings she'd been fighting when she left Onderon the first time drew her back after the Order expelled her.
Ahsoka could remember feeling that he alone still had faith in her, even when she didn't have faith in herself. She would always be grateful for the support he gave her in those turbulent months before she felt ready to take the position in the Shili Royal Guard Senator Amidala had arranged for her.
Ahsoka was happy to find she could think back on her parting with Lux without the pang of guilt and shame that had kept her away after their mutual parting. Their lives were never going to be compatible, no mater the affection they felt for each other. They held together until Ahsoka ran into her old Captain in the Senate building and invited him out for a drink. She left her relationship with Lux and the city of Iziz hopeful about the future for the first time since her arrest.
That was before the war ended, before the Purge, before she went on the run and joined a rebellion. It was hard to think about that hope she had felt when her shoulder was still scarred by Rex's betrayal. Everything she had wanted back then burned the night the order went out. She realized it had been naïve of her to think she could have that kind of peaceful life, much less with him. That vapid dream had blinded her to the truth.
If I hadn't been fixated on that, she thought, would I have seen his betrayal coming? Did I repeat the mistakes I made on Carlac with Rex? I brought him back into my life because of my emotions when I shouldn't have. I thought I had learned better than that after the Onderon Rebelion… But that was before I left the Order.
"Ahsoka?" A tentative voice drew her out of contemplation. She realized the sun had slipped below the horizon and the city was beginning to glow with it's own light. She turned to lean against the railing and smirked at her old friend.
"Hey, Lux. I thought you might be the Rebellion's contact here in Iziz?"
"Ahsoka!" His shocked expression lifted into relieved joy and he hurried forward to embrace her tightly. To her relief he didn't kiss her. "When Organa said he was sending a friend I didn't… I thought you were dead. The news said…" He said, stepping back and looking her up and down.
"It takes more than a few thousand tons of burning duracrete to keep me down," she said back with forced lightness. He chuckled a little.
"I suppose it does. I'm so glad you're alright," he put a warm hand on her shoulder, almost overtop of the scar hidden under her shirt. "There's someone else here you need to see, though."
"Lux," Ahsoka frowned, "the fewer people that know I'm alive, the better."
"Please, Ahsoka," he said with a hopeful look on his face. "It would mean a lot to her and she's a friend."
Ahsoka hesitated a moment longer. I know I should keep myself as secret as possible but… the truth was, she didn't have many friends left.
"Alright," she gave in and let Lux lead her away off the balcony into the palace with a bright, excited grin.
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Author's Note: More explanations next chapter. -Em