The docking bay looked exactly the same. Rex sucked in a deep lungful of recycled air. The flagship star destroyer even smelled the same. Engine grease. Carbon scoring. Cleaning chemicals. Stale coffee. Sweat. Rex wasn't sure how the Admiral had pulled off getting their ship back, but he was grateful for it. Yularen must have worked his way quickly up through the ranks of Republic Intelligence to hold such sway and oust an entire crew from their ship.
Something still tickled the back of his brain about Yularen and his involvement with the Intelligence Bureau, but he pushed it aside. He didn't want to think about GAR politics right now. He just wanted to enjoy the moment.
This hangar was filled with memories of a hundred missions, good, bad, and everything in-between. They'd conducted trainings in here countless times, making use of the wide-open spaces. He'd lost men in here when they'd been attacked, some sucked out into the vacuum.* He sighed. He'd been planning on running a series of drills on just that scenario right before Tri-Luna. Had they lost any additional men due to this missed training?
He'd lost men in this bay coming back from battles, too wounded to make medbay. Rex had gone Code Red, bleeding out on this slab grey floor of the hangar deck from a jagged piece of shrapnel, only still alive because Coric would not give up on him. He'd woken up, disoriented and staring up in confusion at the massive ceiling as Coric cursed him and told him he'd kill him if he left them now.
This smell. This place. Made him realize he was back. He was truly back.
Rex stood at the base of the shuttle, lost in memories before voices from behind interrupted the moment.
He looked back over his shoulder as Ahsoka emerged from the shuttle, deep in conversation with Appo.
Rex moved away from the shuttle to give them some space. He still wasn't sure where he stood with Appo. One moment they were getting along alright, and the next Appo was completely triggered and screaming at Rex because of something that had happened to him at Darkknell. Maybe Ahsoka could straighten him out. She seemed to have a way with him. He'd just have to accept they spent a lot of time together and had developed a sort of bond. Rex took a deep steadying breath and told himself he was OK with it. She cared for everyone under her command. And, Appo regarded Ahsoka as-
Rex stole a quick glance back at them again. The two of them were completely absorbed in their conversation.
How did Appo regard his Jedi commander?
Appo would have to be blind not to notice Ahsoka was... well, she wasn't a kid anymore. She'd grown... well, gah... Rex was having difficulties coming up with words that were respectful in his own mind to Ahsoka in her position as his commander and yet truthful to how he saw her in his eyes. Over the past three years, she'd grown from a pint-sized thing that barely stood past his waist to near full-grown Togruta height. She must have eaten well at the Temple lately because she'd regained the weight she'd lost and it looked good on her, filling her out in all the right places. Appo would have to be blind not to notice all of it.
They'd been locked up together for two months. Appo had a lot of time to notice things about her. What secrets had she revealed to him that Rex didn't know? He'd never spent that kind of time with Ahsoka. He'd worked together with her on missions, sure, and been trapped together with her in a cave of TriLuna. But, he'd never spent two months with-
He was not going to compare himself with Appo. There was no comparison. He was a better class of clone trooper, hands down. Appo had been promoted because... well, it was still a mystery to Rex why Appo had been chosen and not Jesse. But, Appo did have a way of ingratiating himself with the higher-ups-
"Captain-"
Admiral Yularen's voice beside him startled him and Rex inwardly cursed himself for not having been aware his superior was approaching. "Sir." He straightened up and executed a perfect salute. Appo wasn't the only one who could ace decorum.
"At ease," Yularen stood beside Rex and studied the 501st Captain carefully, and Rex was not sure what to make of his scrutiny. "You've been away a long time."
Rex cocked his head to the side, acknowledging the statement and not sure what to add. He hadn't left because he wanted to, but part of him didn't regret it either. He'd met some incredible troopers on that Andoan moon and he was a better person for it.
The Admiral took a deep breath, and Rex realized with a start he was appreciating the scent of the ship, as well. "I've missed the old girl." He shook his head. "They took me on a tour of that new ship, the Palpatine, trying to convince me to take it on." He chuckled wryly. "I can't abide by that new ship smell."
"I understand, sir," and he did, the air here was free of the new paint fumes and construction chaos that seemed to be everywhere in the military complex down on Corrie. He cocked his head to the side and studied the equipment neatly arranged around the bay. There were rows of Alpha-3 Nimbus starfighters, lined up next to Eta-2 Actis-class light interceptors. Massive walkers loomed over the bay, shadowing everything in their wake. Low Altitude Assault Transports sat quietly, but few ships were painted with artwork he recognized.
Admiral Yularen followed the direction of his gaze. "We're at full inventory," Yularen said, coming up to stand beside him. "I insisted upon it if we were going to take on the Rimma Route, and then head on the Outer Rim." Something about the way he said it gave Rex a bad feeling. He knew the upcoming engagement was going to be difficult, but the Admiral must know much more than he was letting on. "Walk with me, Rex." They took a tour of the entire hangar bay, looping under the shadows of the walkers and past row after row of LAATs.
Rex had been in this hangar so many times with the boys for painting the ships. It was always a special occasion as the men argued and debated over the nose artwork. They all considered themselves artists after painting their armor. Rex always let them resolve it on their own, as it was a good way for the men to learn to work together. The artwork was not always what he would have chosen, but his men worked together very well on the battlefield. Rex's methods worked. Except… few of the LAATs were familiar to him. Many looked like they just rolled off the assembly line at Kuat Drive Yards. Some LAATs had no artwork at all. They were... blank slates. He didn't know which was worse, artwork he didn't recognize, or ships that were obviously replacement units. It was a disconcerting feeling. Like he'd taken a wrong turn someplace all of a sudden.
"It's different equipment," the Admiral confirmed, "We lost most of our larties at…" he glanced back at Appo, and lowered his voice discreetly, "... Kaz'haria."
Rex gripped his fists so hard the synth-leather of his gloves creaked. "I should have been there."
"There's nothing you could have done, Rex. You would have been captured, like the others. Or, worse... killed."
Rex shook his head. He gestured to the replacement equipment. "My place is with the 501st and I wasn't there for them."
"You were exactly where you needed to be," Yularen's gaze took on a distant expression as if he were somehow back in the battle. "Being ordered to jump away and leave the transports behind was the most difficult order I've ever had to follow. I almost didn't-" He shook his head and stopped.
Rex stared at him, shocked. Was the Admiral about to say he almost disobeyed a direct order in the middle of a battle? Rex chose his words carefully. "If you hadn't, sir, the Resolute would have been destroyed and none of the men would have come home."
Yularen met his gaze directly with his piercing blue eyes. "I've stayed up entire nights looking at the numbers, Rex. The number of men saved that day. The number of men we lost. If you and Cody hadn't brought our boys home, I don't think I ever would have been able to live with…my failure that day." His voice dropped. "Sometimes I think there is something wrong with the way we're doing things."
Rex's brow furrowed. "I'm not sure I understand."
The Admiral's wrist comm beeped softly interrupting their conversation. He shook his head, startled, as if he's said too much. "The Generals will be arriving momentarily." He clapped Rex on the shoulder back. "It's good to have you back, Captain. Why don't you go on ahead and prepare the briefing room. "
Rex nodded, glad for the reprieve. He was puzzled by the ending of their conversation and unsettled by how much they'd lost at Kaz'haria. He'd know it was bad, but seeing all of those new ships... it just drove it all home. Every one of those missing larties had troopers in them when they went down, or at the minimum, a skilled combat pilot. The losses were devastating. The lights were only at 50 percent lumens, giving the ship a ghostly appearance. Even through his armor, he could feel the chill of space. Rex used his HUD to integrate with the Resolute's mainframe, relieved when his command codes still worked. Or, maybe they'd been reactivated again. It didn't matter. He'd been given his command back and that was all that mattered. He could watch out for his brothers again. He immediately brought the ship back to standard temps.
He turned his mind to the briefing ahead. Briefings were familiar and he needed to do something back in his comfort zone. He'd had enough surprises over the past week. He walked briskly around a corner and ran (literally) into the Wolfpack. Rex was so startled he dropped to one knee and drew a blaster on Wolffe. And, was immediately taken down from behind by a half dozen other identically clad members of the Pack.
"Let him up, boys," Wolffe spoke in his usual gravelly undertone, but Rex could swear he was trying to hold back laughter.
"Wolffe," Rex muttered, trying to regain his dignity and composure as Wolffe extended a hand and yanked him to his feet. He frowned and stared around at the sea of grey and white surrounding him. "I wasn't aware you lot were onboard the ship."
"Obviously," muttered one of the troopers to his left, but he was immediately silenced by a sharp elbow to the gut by Sinker.
"Sorry, Sergeant."
"Don't mind the shiny," Sinker said with an apologetic shrug. "They get into the Pack and suddenly they're full of themselves." He glared at the trooper again and they stepped back another step.
"It's alright. I don't mind a bit of fire in a shiny. You still haven't explained why you grey-coated menaces are aboard my ship."
"General Plo had a 'bad feeling' and asked us to do a security sweep."
Rex growled almost inaudibly under his breath.
"Problem, Rex?"
"You think there's a security threat aboard my ship and you don't bother to tell me?"
"I'm here, aren't I?"
Rex took a deep breath, remembering Wolffe had his own way of doing things. He hadn't seen Wolffe's ship either approaching or in the hangar. But, then again, they were stealth ops. "Did you find anything?"
"No, but General Plo is rarely wrong. Sinker, Boost, take your teams. Report every five." The Pack dispersed and vanished as quickly as they'd appeared. "Where you headed?" he asked Rex.
Rex frowned at the suddenly empty corridor, not sure he liked the Wolfpack running amuck on the ship. He let it go. "Conference room."
Wolffe fell into step beside Rex.
"Don't you slackers have anything better to do than stand around in corridors jawing all day?" a slightly teasing voice asked from behind them.
Rex would know that voice anywhere, even if it was identical to his own and three million others.
"Cody!" His annoyance from a moment before faded away, and Rex couldn't hold back his pleasure at seeing Cody. He grabbed him in a back-thumping hug.
"Fek, get a room, you two," Wolffe grumbled..
"Wolffe," Cody released Rex and smacked the special ops commander so hard on the shoulder plate that the sound reverberated across the abandoned corridor.
"Look who they let out of the RMB," Wolffe smirked.
"Thanks to you," Cody acknowledged, "I owe you one."
"As do I," Rex grabbed Wolffe's helmet and gently bumped foreheads with him, "thank you, Wolffe."
"Gah! You're all kinds of emotion today, Rex!"
Rex laughed, his heart lighter than it had been in a long time.
"So, the Rimma Trade Route, huh?" Cody prompted, bringing their discussion back to their purpose for being there.
"Yeah, this is going to be interesting," Wolffe grumbled.
With that, the three command clones fell into step together as if they'd never been apart and immediately dove deep into the best ways to deploy their forces.
# # # #
* In the Clone Wars animated series, clones are often shown being sucked out into the vacuum of space. We are all left to presume these clones are dead because... well, you know, space. But, the clone suits are pressurized. We hear the "hiss" seal when they release their helmets and we've seen the clones fight out in space in the "Malovelence" arc (Sinker, Boost, Comet alongside Plo Koon), and the 501st wins a decisive battle by hiding atop their tanks out in the vacuum of space. So, wouldn't it stand to reason the clones have a reserve of air in their suits that would allow them to breathe long enough to be rescued? Say a one-hour supply of air? Or, they have filters in their suits that simply scrub their own CO2 and allow them to stay out there indefinitely? I'm saying it is very possible all of those clones who screamed the Wilhelm scream as they were sucked out of the ships did not die. They were simply startled and were later rescued. Following this line of reasoning, there could have even been survivors of the Malovelence disaster and if a second rescue crew went in after Anakin and Ahsoka they may have found many survivors of the Wolfpack.