A simple chapter, but one that has been long overdue. Google the song at the end, I think it sums up a certain relationship. Let me know what you think. . . . Ms CT-782
Eighty Eight
"Just what the fek would anyone want on Timora?"
Gree was right.
Rex knew it.
His men knew it.
Why then, didn't the brass?
Rex knew the sequalae of events.
Disaster.
Casualities.
A resounding Republic victory.
The captain couldn't escape the war now.
Even in the gymnasium physiotherapy room, having a massage, it followed him.
Laying face down on the bed, clad only in his black trunks he outstretched his arm as the therapist ran a scanner over the implanted microchip.
Raising his eyebrows at the information stored on the more senior officer he couldn't help but comment, "that was a close shave sir."
"Yeah," Rex answered, "they nearly got me this time."
But this time, there was no humour in his voice.
He was given the green light to return to active service after the disastrous code red campaign on Dagro.
Physically he was ready, but had they scratched deeper...had they bothered to ask?
The mission had shaken him to the core. It had been close, too close and he had wavered mentally under pressure.
This therapist knew every mark on the body lying prone in front of him, but even as experienced in rehabilitation as Profile was, he was unprepared for the long line that ran diagonally along the captain's flank.
Rex had needed a new kidney to replace the one that had been compromised from the lack of blood due to the torn renal artery. The pink line meant that the skin was healing nicely and Profile warmed his hands with the heated oil before gently placing them on the captains back. He noticed Rex flinch slightly and his skin pucker like a plucked nuna as he ran his hands up to his shoulders.
"Sorry sir, my hands will warm up in a sec."
Rex grunted a response as the man standing over him continued to massage the aching muscles, trying to relieve some of the built up tension.
"Ahh," the captain breathed out as Profile found a trigger point in between his shoulder blades.
"You know," he spoke quietly as he continued to work on the spot, "the bacta accelerates cellular rejuvenation but it also increases scar tissue accumulation in the joints. You're going to be arthritic in twelve months if you don't ease up on the wear and tear captain."
"Then maybe you can write me a note and send it to the General." It was sarcastic, but the seasoned therapist took it with the humour that was intended.
Profile was a magician with his hands.
Rex only ever used him to work on his body after a dip in the tank.
With his position safe within the confines of the GAR rehabilitation wing, Profile didn't feel as though he was missing anything not being stationed on the front line. He often felt that he had been into battle with each and every man he treated. He would listen to the ones who felt they needed to talk and keep quiet when he sensed an unease embedded as deep as the tissue damage he was treating.
"Can you roll onto your left side for me sir."
Rex did as he was ordered and was pushed into a foetal position as Profile began manipulating the individual facet joints along his spine. Rex could feel his muscles begin to relax slightly when he heard the voice from the table next to him.
Just what the fek would anyone want on Timora?
.
"Gem, I'm sorry. I have run out of options. There is simply nothing more I can do." Sionver looked at her heavily pregnant friend and shrugged her shoulders.
It was true. Dr Boll could not continue to explore the molecular modification of the aging of the clones. She had worked on it for months and each time she thought she had cracked the code, the tricky Kaminoans struck back, locking away their secrets under another maze of genetic manipulations.
"If only we had some of the original genetic material," she would mumble continuously to herself.
"I remember Rex saying that Jango kept a clone from acceleration; a replica he wanted to grow up normal."
"Well, if that's the case, and if we had his DNA, we could immediately locate all manipulations, not just the aging."
"The only trouble is locating him." Gem knew this to be true. In and out of jail, Boba Fett was as elusive as the Kaminoan scientists work.
"I'll make some enquiries back on Coruscant, but I don't like our chances any time soon." She looked at Gem, this time more closely; she appeared out of sorts and slightly agitated. Sionver couldn't quite put a finger on it. No doubt the impending birth was getting to the young politician. She had seven weeks of gestation left, but something seemed definitely off about her that morning.
"Gem, come back to Coruscant with me. I don't like leaving you here alone." Reed walked in as the two were talking and stopped before picking up the doctor's belongings.
"She's right Gem, you shouldn't be here on your own."
"I'm not alone, I have Housedroid, it can contact Gilly if I need her."
"Do you want me to get a message to Re – ?"
"No, no, he has more than enough to worry about. I'm fine," she stressed. "Go on. You need to leave now if you intend to be back before nightfall tomorrow."
Reed and Sinover looked at one another and quietly left the house.
It was late autumn and there was a definite chill in the air.
The trees had turned red and some were beginning to lose their leaves altogether. Gem always loved the cooler seasons and this baby would be born in the Oriian winter which was mild in comparison to other planets.
Gem watched the colours swirl under the propulsion of the engines as the ship silently moved up and disappeared from view.
She walked back inside and went through the lock down routine, closing off the laboratory and maintaining a central area.
A new silence had descended, the disappointment from the lack of scientific progress coupled with the loneliness of an empty house.
Sionver had been right, Gem was agitated that day.
She had noticed the increase in her ability to tap into the raw power she was born with, and it was a daily struggle to not give in to the temptation the heightened presence in the Force the pregnancy had caused.
She spent her days reading and continuing her work for the Oriian people in the Senate, transcribing meetings with other dignitaries that Olphina would send through to her. She would comm into meetings with the R&D committee and express her opinion on experiments and scientific projects the Chancellor wanted to commence.
All the time, hiding her growing belly behind a desk or a perfectly placed data pad.
She had been into town and had bought the various pieces of paraphernalia a baby required and had watched Reed struggle with putting the sleeping crib together.
"With all your so called genetic intellect, you can't assemble a cot?"
"I swear Gem, this is more confusing than a hyper drive motivator." She laughed at Reed who looked as though he was playing her favourite childhood game of Swivel, his large frame stepping over pieces of native Ply wood and flimsie instructions.
She ran her hand along the smooth, blond wood, alone with her thoughts.
These were the times she would think of Rex.
This wasn't what she had planned for her life.
In impossible love with a man that for all intents and purposes wasn't allowed the life she was offering him.
Then her mind would wander to her own family with dreams that would haunt her for days.
Her father, with all his eccentricities would have found joy from the child she was carrying; the home he had spent a lifetime developing, a safe haven from the fears that plagued his mind as he grew older.
Then her mother.
As much as Gem didn't like to admit, she had grown into the very person she spent her youth despising.
All those wasted years, the endless nights of embittered thoughts and for what? The one person she now understood was the one person she never had the chance to get to know.
But Gem was beginning to understand now.
She understood love, and the pain of loss and her mother's power and subsequent disillusionment.
She cradled her abdomen and laughed as a growl of hunger came from her stomach.
"Ok, ok, dinner time," and she turned the light off in the little room adjacent to the main bedroom, the one she hoped she would share, soon, with her new family; the one she had created, albeit initially through necessity but now out of love.
.
The image of her flickered in front of him, breaking up on occasion due to turbulence. He was annoyed but wasn't in a position to bark at the engineer on duty for better reception, the personal communique set up as a favour to the captain; that as frustrating to the soldier as the lack of privacy.
"Gem," he sounded rushed. "Marry me now."
It wasn't a question, she had heard that tone before.
It was an order.
He knew the answer before he said the words, but why then was he still so nervous?
"Yes."
Rex began speaking quietly and Gem repeated the words as well as she could, and barring a few glitches within the transmission, it was done.
"I love you," he whispered.
"Stay safe, come home, we'll be waiting."
Rex lifted his left gauntlet to his lips and nodded before the transmission petered out and she was gone.
Trust my words, hear my vow
Swear I'm never gonna let you down
We got a love that last forever
We got a love that last forever [7]
[7] Cross My Heart. The Veronicas. Live Sessions. 2013
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