Hangin' From a Tree

It didn't take them long to try him in their court of law

He was guilty then of thinking, a crime much worse than all

They sentenced him to die so his seed of thought can't spread

And infect the little children; that what the law had said

'Two Hangmen' – Mason Proffit

The light of the force field cast a pale blue pall over the room.

Rex did not want to look over at the cell, or see the man standing within. It was hard to resist though. Some basic, inner need to stare at a disaster, to be appalled and shocked at the source. He did not gawk, but kept the look cool, a simple tilt of the head in the right direction, a cut of the eyes toward the brother who'd betrayed them all, now locked up.

He turned to the guard on duty, a trooper named Clink. "He been keeping quiet?"

"Yes, sir," came the instant reply.

He wanted to ask if Slick really understood the consequences of what he'd done. There had only been a handful of injuries in the evening's explosions, but it would be the casualties tomorrow that would show the real extent of his actions. Heavy cannons would be a help, but without the rest of their ground assault, it would make it harder to fight off the Separatists. Harder inevitably meant higher casualties.

Claimed he loved his brothers. Bullshit. Maybe he wasn't pulling the trigger himself, but he'd taken away a part of their ability to defend themselves. Claimed he did it for freedom. What use was freedom if everyone you're fighting for is dead?

It was stupid. The results and wrongness of his actions seemed so clear. Slick couldn't be stupid enough not to understand that.

The only question was why he did it anyway.

Some measure of his confusion, his distain, must have showed in his face.

From his place within the cell, Slick said, leaning casually against the doorway, just before the containment field began, "You really don't get it, do you?"

Rex fought the urge to scoff and order him to shut up. He settled for a scowl. Slick looked strangely thoughtful. He snorted after a moment.

"You'll understand someday. Maybe not now, but you will." He snorted again, and followed it with a mirthless laugh. "Anyone still alive when this nightmare ends will, in one way or another." He pushed off the wall, turned, and sat down on the cot against the back wall of the cell.

Rex exchanged a look with Clink, who shook his head and shrugged. "He's been saying that to just about everyone who's come in here."

Rex looked again towards the cell. Slick had lain down with his face to the wall and back to his guards.

There was no choice about tomorrow's battle. There was no choice but to fight. It was what they were born for; their purpose in life. Every clone knew this from as far back as he could remember. They were heroes, protecting and freeing the galaxy.

He called them slaves.

It was repugnant, an insult to everything they worked for. They were soldiers. That had a meaning. They had a purpose.

He put his helmet back on. He'd checked on the prisoner. He had work to do, and not much time to rest before the fighting began.

Still, the word settled in the back of his mind like a seed. The years slowly watered it, until it began to grow.

Everything had gone according to plan, until now.

Rex was on his way out. Timing had been delicate. He'd gotten the right alarms down, and the right doors up, on the southern side of the complex's outer wall. Judging by the repeated boom-rumble of explosions outside, Echo and Fives' little distraction was playing merry hell with the ground assault vehicles kept in the northwest quadrant.

He'd left the command center when Ahsoka had sent him the evacuation signal. She had the prisoners. He'd meet her on the way. They'd get out, rendezvous with Echo and Fives half a kilometer from the site, and get away. Clean. Easy.

Except for Cody standing with a blaster pointed at him in the middle of the hallway.

"Drop it," said Cody, and there was no understanding in his voice, no sympathy on his face. When Rex paused, Cody's stony expression deepened into a glare. "Now."

Rex played for time. Slowly, he lowered himself, setting the hand blaster he was holding on the ground. He kept his hands halfway up, keeping an eye on Cody warily as he kicked it aside, out of reach. The Commander was tough to beat in a fistfight. Rex had done it in practice rounds before, but never with regularity. Often such bouts ended in a draw. He would have to choose his moment, and hope reinforcements did not reach them before he had a chance. Disarm, subdue, run like hell, hope to get out before he was caught. He rolled carefully forward on his feet, kept low and ready to spring.

Cody knew what he was doing, and his eyes narrowed in suspicion. They'd sparred enough, worked together enough to know how the other operated.

The sound of feet in the hallway behind him gave them both warning. Neither moved. Rex wanted to smile, but it was too dangerous a moment to allow satisfaction. It was not the thunking pound of armored feet. Too light.

He took a breath. The footsteps stopped, and as Cody realized it was a Jedi standing in the crux between hallways, Rex launched himself forward.

Ahsoka was shouting his name, and he was shouting back, "Go!" as he tried to tackle the Commander. Three Force-sensitive children of various ages were with her, the smallest in her arms. He wanted to give her reassurance, but there was no time as he plowed forward. Cody had recovered from the shock of seeing Ahsoka, alive, and the prisoners escaping. He only hoped she would get out, instead of try to help him. She had her own problems. This was his.

Reluctant footsteps receded, slowly, then faster, away.

Cody had not gone down in his initial attack. He'd braced a leg behind him, and was pushing back. His blaster rifle was pinned between them. They grappled for it. Rex shoved his shoulder forward, slipped his arm up and hand around, yanked out the power cell. It fell to the floor with a clatter, and skittered off against the wall as they tried to wrestle the blaster out of the other's hands, feet scuffling against the floor.

"MIA? I never thought you'd go traitor," Cody spat. "Shutting down base, blowing up the ground assault. Been taking lessons from Slick, have you?"

It stung. Cody twisted abruptly to the side, jamming an elbow into Rex's unarmored stomach. He was tensed for it, abdominal muscles absorbing the blow, but impact from an armored arm still hurt. Rather than doubling over, he grunted and was forced back a step.

"I'm no traitor," Rex ground out. "My loyalty was to the Republic. I don't know what the hell this Empire is, but I know what it's not." They slammed against each other again, Cody trying to wield the powerless blaster like a club, bringing the butt-end of it down in an arc, aimed at Rex's face, hoping to catch him in the head and send him crashing down. It failed; Rex shifted, blocked, the blaster slamming down onto his angled, raised forearm, and he twisted, sending the blaster scraping off his arm and to the side. There was little chance of injuring Cody through the heavy plastoid armor he was wearing. He'd likely break his hand. Rex twisted back, struck him with an open palm, shoving him backward instead. "It's not right, Cody. You can't tell me you think all this is right!"

Rex pressed his advantage. Cody shoved the blaster forward, aiming to ram Rex in the chest. In too close, the motion was pure reflex; he turned, brought his arms up. The right hooked around the outside, the left braced itself inside. Cody swore as Rex pushed with his left forearm, and pulled with his right. The torque wrenched the blaster out of Cody's hands, and it clattered to the floor as Rex stepped inward and tried to get a lock on Cody's arm. It slipped from his grasp when Cody swung hard with his left, and his fist connected with Rex's cheek, sending him reeling as pain exploded across his jaw. He staggered into the wall, raising his arms to protect his head as Cody pressed the attack.

"Of course it's not right!" Cody shouted into his face, fists pounding down hard. Rex continued to keep him from landing a second punch, though a trickle of blood was streaming down his nose and his head was beginning to spin. Air was coming in short gasps. He grit his teeth.

"Then leave!" Between hits, Rex brought up a leg and kicked outward, taking Cody in the gut and pushing him off. He slid to the side, freeing himself from being pinned to the wall. "Come with us. Get out."

Cody hesitated. Rex, for a moment, hoped he'd gotten though to his old friend. They'd sparred plenty of times. He'd never thought they'd fight for real. They both paused, breathing hard, catching their breaths. Cody began to shake his head. "Do you know what's been going on, Rex? Do you really?"

Neither of them relaxed, but kept cautious attention on the other. "I've seen some of it firsthand. Heard rumors about the rest."

When Cody lowered his eyes and hung his head, Rex knew the fight was all but over. When Cody looked up again, he seemed haunted. His face gaunt, pained. "It's hell here. Half the men are falling apart. The other half are out of control. Some of the officers," he jerked his head at Rex, and twitched slightly as though to indicate himself, "are disappearing. Some are getting reassigned, I know, but some are just gone. Someone's got to try to keep everyone together, or it'll get worse. We'll all go insane."

Rex grimaced. Of course things were falling apart. Who would want to go through with some of the orders he'd heard being executed? They were trained, battle hardened, ready at a moment's notice, loyal to a fault.

To a fault. The men were beginning to understand what it meant to thoughtlessly follow orders. Blind trust in a broken machine. A machine they'd been taught was unbreakable. It began with the deaths of the Jedi. It was continuing. They sacrificed their lives for the freedom of the people of the Republic. The mill of death that ground them all down was being turned on those same people.

What use was freedom if everyone was dead?

What use was being alive if you weren't free?

"I can't do it, Cody," the words caught for a moment, as Rex realized what he was saying. "I can't follow those orders. I had to draw a line somewhere."

I'm free now. Ahsoka had said so, and had given them a choice – free agents. Free.

"We've all got to draw the line somewhere," Cody said tiredly. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, ran a hand through his short hair. "Get out. Get those kids out." He laughed once. It was a hard sound, but not a defeated one. "Go fight your fight out there. I'll do what I can in here. I just wish I had some help."

They locked gazes. There was an understanding, born from too many battles. Each had chosen their ground. It was not the same, but each position was poised for a different fight. "We'll be around," Rex told him.

Cody smirked. "I'll keep that in mind. Get some armor. You look like shit."

Rex tried to laugh, but winced as his swelling face throbbed when he tried to smile. Cody tossed him his handblaster. "Go. Before anyone gets back here. They have to have figured it out by now."

Rex nodded once, then turned and ran.

(And now we're two hangmen hangin' from a tree

That don't bother me at all)

Ahsoka was looking at him, her face a mask of sympathy. She lightly checked the blue-purple mottling along the entire right side of his face, with knuckle-shaped indentations from Cody's heavy, gauntleted fist. She scowled at it for a moment, before turning her attention to his arms, his chest, her hands hovering in the air in front of him, reluctant to touch, but needing to be sure he was alright.

Rex was sitting on one of the two examination tables in their cramped medbay. The three younglings were being put to sleep in the bunks of the clone's shared room after they'd had their turn getting checked; Rex had claimed he was fine, but once they were settled, Ahsoka had insisted. When she'd looked like she was going to march him in at lightsaber point, he'd relented. He supposed he probably did look like he just got hit by a speeder truck.

"I can't believe Cody did this to you. Cody!" she was indignant.

"Yeah, well, I broke his gun."

Ahsoka scowled at him. "He almost broke you!"

Rex shrugged, rather enjoying her outrage. He tried to grin, and ended up flinching as blood-swollen bruising tried to change shape. Ahsoka was immediately back to checking his face, anger forgotten in concern. She picked up a bottle of bacta and lightly sprayed it across his sore jaw.

She held a hand up, just above his cheek. "I don't think I can get rid of all of it, but I can at least help the bacta along, take down some of the swelling. You're lucky you didn't lose a tooth. Hold still," she warned. She closed her eyes in concentration, her brow furrowing slightly. A cool, itchy prickle ran across his flesh as she began to channel the Force.

He had never thought before, of working the way Cody was trying to. Their situations were different. He'd never been given the chance, been put in the same position. Hopefully Cody knew he had somewhere to go if he ever had to draw another line – they were in the business of smuggling Force-sensitives now. It couldn't be much different to help some brothers quietly disappear, if they knew who wanted out.

He refused to think of himself as a slave, as Slick had so indelicately put it – but there had been a lack of freedom. A lack of choice, of opportunity to leave, to take another path. That much was true. He couldn't approve of Slick's methods. His actions put too many in danger. But the man had been right about one thing at least. Rex had come to understand his motives, and the price they were paying for being what they were.

He was free to make his own choices now. Ahsoka's face was serene, her hand still poised just above his cheek, working on healing him. They weren't in the Grand Army anymore, though he still referred to her by rank as often as not. He followed her because it was what he wanted. He had freedom to choose. This was his choice.

He hesitated a little, then reached up, placed his hand over hers. Her eyes snapped back open, blinked. Her head tilted slightly to the side in query. Hand rested against hand against cheek. He watched her eyes widen at the continued intimacy of the gesture; the dark stripes of her lekku deepened when he did not let go.

She suddenly could not look at him, but did not pull away either. He was uncertain. Following orders did make things simple, at least. He retreated onto a safer topic, unsure of how to proceed. "Cody said some brothers are disappearing."

She ventured a look at him again, gave a small nod.

"I was thinking, if we get the chance, we could try to help with that."

She seemed to be looking at him a long time, but it was really only a moment. A smile began, small at first, then grew, gaining warmth. "Of course."

Her hand cupped his cheek more comfortably. His hand tightened around hers.

He'd gone against orders to keep her alive.

It was the right choice. He felt free.

You know, you learn that push-pull maneuver I had Rex doing real fast when you have a roku-dan black belt coming at you with a bo staff. Hopefully the fight scene worked out alright. Rex apparently now knows some of the set yakusokumite defensive blocks. XD

And finally! A song not by Bob Dylan! Writing Cody was another first – hopefully his thinking makes sense. There are different ways of fighting. This chapter was just really hard to write, for some reason. I had to keep picking at it, and I'm still not completely sure I'm happy with it, but I've run out of ways to improve it. So, here it is, best as I can get it.

Always,

~Queen