Guys, guess what. Exactly one year ago (22 November 2015) I published the first scene of this story. Naturally, I had to publish one today, one year later.

10 chapters in one year? Not bad. That's about *quick typing on calculator* 1.2 chapters per month.

Anyways, enjoy!

Through the Eyes of Captain Rex

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Captain Rex wasn't expecting anyone to be awake at this hour. It had been a rough campaign, long and hard and dirty, and everyone—Jedi and clone alike—was exhausted. He, though, had death certificates to sign off on, replacement forms to start filing, duty rosters to shuffle; it was his excuse for being up in the middle of the night. However, "Commander Tano?" he had no idea what her excuse was.

She started at his call, not seeming to realize it was a question as much as a greeting. Blue eyes, usually so bright and bubbly, were dull and tired, even as her lips pulled into a small smile. "Oh, hi, Rex."

Even after months of working with her, practically living with her, it was hard to fight the urge to correct her on the sorts of epithets and military protocol. Instead he stepped up, almost beside her but not entirely. The place of support, of Second, but not quite her equal. "You're up late, sir." An easy opening for conversation, the opportunity for her to offer information as easily as she could shut down his inquiries.

"Yeah." Normally a toe would've scuffed, a shoulder twitched; instead she was still. "Couldn't really sleep." She stared out the viewport they stood in front of. "I needed to see the stars."

The room he'd found her in had been originally designed as a meditation chamber for the Jedi, though Rex knew neither of his assigned mystics used it for that purpose. Instead, it seemed, this room was an occasional escape for the tiny Togruta.

He bit his tongue to keep from ordering her to her quarters. It wasn't his place, he knew, but he also knew that her body was very near running on absolutely nothing. He had seen her in the battle, kept her in his vision as much as he could, almost the entire time.

She had been like a force of nature, a small, lithe body becoming a storm of swirling yellow-green and russet-burgundy. Nimble, agile, a Pittin on the hunting-trail of a rodus, ready to run, jump, leap in for the kill.

Brilliant. She had been brilliant, breath-taking.

And she had taken his breath, so many times in fear, where his heart stopped, where he was certain she would fall to her death or be charred to bits by enemy blasts.

Brilliant and breath-taking, and he hoped he never had to experience something so emotionally taxing again. The rational part of his brain wondered at why it affected him so; the rest of his mind shut down that thought process. Dangerous things lurked in his mind, but unacknowledged they couldn't hurt anyone.

His silence stretched, and she tried for another smile. "Why are you awake?"

He indicated the 'pad in his hand. "Paperwork."

"Oh." Her smile fell, leaving sad eyes and sadder glimmers of something else. "Right."

He wondered if she felt guilt. He knew, after months with her that she felt each loss. He didn't quite know how she felt it, didn't know if it was a prick in her mind or a cut in her heart, but he knew it was there, knew it hurt. Hurt her like it hurt him, and the reminder of that sent an odd, piercing burn through his chest.

Blue eyes snapped to him, wide, startled. "Rex?" Hands, one on his shoulder, one on his cheek, steadying, holding, supporting. He couldn't feel through his armor, but on his face, skin to skin, cold and soft and small, and he swallowed a breath and stepped back. Just an inch, just enough to provide space between their breaths.

She seemed to realize she'd crossed some unspoken boundary and retreated, too. Steps back until she was closer to the viewport than she was to him, closer to the cold of space and stars, and it was an odd burn in his mind that made him decide he didn't like that. So he released a breath and moved the necessary amount forwards, until he was once more almost-but-not-entirely beside her. "It was a lot of men, lil'un. That's it."

She nodded. "You can stay, if you like." Her hand gestured the viewport, a small movement. "With the stars." If he listened hard enough, he thought he could hear an unspoken 'with me.'

Don't kid yourself, soldier. She must have sensed something, something in his consternation towards himself, in his fierce reminder of what was duty and what was not, and what was blurring the line. She flinched slightly.

"I can leave. I should sleep anyways."

"No." He was proud he hadn't shouted the word. She looked mildly startled anyways, did she really think I want her gone? He did his best to smile reassuringly. "Stay. I could use some company."

It was funny in a not-funny way, the words they were saying and the words they didn't say in order to tell each other things they weren't sure could actually be shared between them.

She did stay, though, sidling right up to him. While he had regard for the rules of distance as dictated by propriety, she didn't. Her body brushed his armor, and he wished, for one second, then an extra, that he had changed into his soft uniform, if only to feel her heat. Instead he just thought of her hand on his face. Small, cold, soft. Cold, but her body was so warm, she was so warm.

Russet-burgundy, sunny smiles and sparkling eyes of laughter and ferocity.

"Rex?"

"Yes, sir?" If she wouldn't allow space physically, he'd put it verbally.

Her eyes were as cold and bright as the stars they looked at. "Does it get easier?"

He would need her to specify. "What's it?"

She just sighed softly, breath frosting the window. "It."

It, it, it. His fingers tightened around the 'pad. "No." Soft words in soft silence. "It doesn't."

"I don't think I can do this."

It was then he realized the cold and bright of her eyes were tears she was trying to keep back. Kriff. He'd never been taught how to respond to a crying superior, or female, or a crying superior who also happened to be a female. But she swallowed a breath and blinked tightly, and the cold and bright disappeared.

"You can, kid," because what else could he say?

She smiled, weak and fragile and everything she wasn't. "Thank you, Rex."

Storm. She had been a storm, a whirlwind, a Pittin. Now she was a small, broken child. Too young; she's too young to be on the battlefield. Never mind he himself was even younger than her.

He wasn't sure what else to say, though, or what else to do. So he just shifted his weight into a more comfortable position and glanced at her, noting that instead of cold and bright, her eyes now simply reflected the stars she stared out.

He wonder what she saw among them.

Much less happy-bubbly than our last Rex and Ahsoka snippet. But I really like this one.

A Pittin is a type of feline in the SW universe, while a rodus is a rodent hunted by the Pittin. I would've used the tooka cat comparison, but have you seen a tooka cat image? Not the sleek, predatory grace usually associated with Ahsoka. And a Nexu just seemed too vicious for this particular scene.

Next "episode" I'm thinking of doing a run-in with one of the Nulls, and consequently their take on Ahsoka...

Yes, no, maybe?

Read, review, share.

Kisses xx