"Rex, do I need to give you a sedative?" Kix asked, frowning as he toured the RMSU next to his Captain.
"Mmmmm…right, of course…." Rex muttered distractedly, his attention on the Injury, Illness, and Fatality report on the datapad in his hand. "These stats…do they reflect-"
Kix pressed a hand to Rex's chest to stop him from walking into an IV stand. "You haven't heard anything I've said."
"Eh… maybe I am a bit distracted," Rex allowed. He shrugged. "Been a long few days, Kix."
"Been a long fekkin' war, Rex." He tugged the datapad from Rex's grasp and slipped it onto his belt. "This can wait." Ignoring Rex's objections, he gripped him by the elbow and steered him out of the medical tent.
"Normally you're trying to drag me into medical," Rex pointed out as he tried to pry Kix's iron-clad grip on his arm. "You can't just order me around. I'm-"
"-the Captain. I know. And, we all respect the fek out of you." His crisp medic tone softened slightly. "But, you're also my friend– and my brother."
A feeling of warmth blossomed in Rex's chest and he didn't object to Kix dragging him toward the temporary mess tent. The 'mess' was more of a collection of tarps with a few serving droids, but it was all they'd been allowed.
Kix left Rex to his thoughts as they shoveled in their food, squeezed in side-by-side on an overturned ammo crate. Rex had to fight for the barest of amenities under the command of their temporary General. Krell wanted Rex to re-group and push on, claiming the men had not 'earned a rest.' The words burned at Rex in their implication, as much as the tone in which the massive Jedi had uttered them.
It implied his men were not doing their job.
General Krell was still stuck on an asteroid, but even commanding remotely, he was wreaking havoc with the 501st. There was an undercurrent of something more dangerous with their temporary General that Rex couldn't quite figure out. He was dangerously unpredictable, but not in the same way as Skywalker. Rex had argued victory was unattainable without re-inventory, re-supply, and treating the wounded. After several comm calls, some of them heated, Krell agreed then to a "very temporary" base camp with only the barest of amenities.
"Very wise, sir," Rex agreed, using the carefully neutral tone he'd perfected in surviving his most difficult trainers on Kamino, "the more temporary the camp, the more it reminds the men we have a greater goal ahead."
Rex would never need to remind his men of something so simple. They were already driven, focused, and motivated. But, he was starting to understand this dangerous game he needed to play with Krell to protect his men.
The Besalik grinned, a sight that was terrifying in its own right. Rex had not seen that many teeth since he'd spotted a spawning Oppee off the coast of Andotown. "There may be hope for you yet, Captain. I'll comm you again soon for an update."
"Very good, sir," Rex using the soothing neutral tone many natborns expected from clones. (Clones called it "pleasing-the-di'kuts" voice.")
Krell nodded approvingly and cut the comm.
"Yes, sir, General Fekker, sir," Rex muttered quietly under his breath. Not quiet enough, if the amused smirk of the comms officer, Jammer, was anything to go by. Rex spun on his heel to leave the command center. All the staff within rose and saluted him on the way out. "At ease," he said quietly, around a lump in his throat. His men deserved better.
Kix sniffed and peered around the makeshift mess area with a hopeful expression. "I heard a rumor there might be caf. You want some?" Kix asked, his voice breaking Rex out of his thoughts.
"I'd take out the Chancellor for some," Rex muttered under his breath, not seeing anything related to a caf dispenser.
Kix snorted and pushed to his feet. "Alright. Let me see if I can find us some caf."
"You looking for caf?" A heavily limping trooper, dressed in the coveralls of ground support, emerged from the steamy depths of the cooking area. He held up two battered tin cups to Kix and Rex. "We don't have a lot of this stuff, but there is some. I've been rationing it." Rex immediately recognized Flak, one of the troopers he'd personally yanked out of the crowded cells at Kaz'haria. Flak and his squad had been beaten to within an inch of their lives.
"Flak, you're looking good."
Flak snorted. "I look like I had the snot beaten out of me, which I did. But, thank you, Captain. I'm grateful to be alive." He poured caf for both Rex and Kix and then sat down on a nearby crate, taking a short break.
Rex gave the same response he always did when the men started to go on about him pulling them out of Kaz'haria. "You men rescued yourselves."
Flak shook his head. "None of us would even be here if it wasn't for you, Captain. Fek knows we would've just been left to rot in that place. Only you and Commander Cody saw fit to come and get us. We know what you did for us." The look he gave Rex both warmed him to the core and worried him. It spoke of troopers who were steadfastly loyal to him- and Cody- but not necessarily the Republic.
Flak pushed carefully to his feet again, topped off both their mugs, and disappeared back into the steam-filled, improvised kitchen.
Rex inhaled sharply, earning him a sharp, curious look from Kix. But, how could Rex adequately explain the worry he was carrying after the first battle and the guilt? He'd lost several hundred troopers in a single day. He wasn't sure he was worthy of the men's high regard if he couldn't keep them safe.
Rex pushed out a sigh as he watched him go and jammed a hand through his hair. It was already too long again. It drove him crazy with how quickly it grew. But, Ahsoka was always saying she liked it a bit longer. Maybe he should leave it until-
No. It shouldn't matter what Ahsoka thinks of my hair. That's just fekkin' stupid.
And, I shouldn't like how she tries to run a hand through my hair whenever she can reach it.
He made a point of pretending it bothered him, but the action had always sent tingles down his spine. He forced his thoughts away from Ahsoka and savored another sip of caf. They were running short on everything with the Separatist blockade around the planet. He'd missed his steady supply of caf the most.
""This is the list?" Rex asked quietly, studying the Spaarti designation numbers on the datapad in front of him.
Kix nodded. "I've sub-divided it between the Spaartis who are known to have perished in the first incursion, those who are currently in the RIMSU, and those we've decided might do better in non-combat roles."
Rex read through the numbers, an odd feeling twisting in his gut. It was Kamino all over again, reducing clones to numbers. But, none of these Spaartis had chosen names. They were so young- all of them. He couldn't get past thinking of them more as overgrown tubies- or confused cadets- rather than actual troopers. "We're going to need the cooperation of Appo, Admiral Yularen and maybe even General Skywalker to make this plan work."
"Commander Appo and General Skywalker rejected this plan before when you suggested putting Spaartis in non-combat roles. What makes you think they'll agree now?"
Rex hooked up an eyebrow and then tapped the datapad meaningfully. "This."
Kix nodded. "Point well-taken." His voice was calm and even, with the slightly detached voice of a brother who had seen too many brothers die and could not let himself get emotionally attached. But, Rex wasn't fooled. Underneath the calm exterior, Kix was as bothered by the large troop losses as much as he was, and maybe even more so. Both Kix and Coric were deeply compassionate vode with a self-defensive toughness wrapped around them.
"I said the Spaartis weren't ready and they insisted on deploying them anyway. And, maybe it wouldn't have even been so bad if they could've been positioned more strategically and had support from more experienced troopers. But, they were used as a frontal assault force and never stood a chance. They were cannon fodder."
Kix let Rex rant and grieve, getting the anger off his chest. "They were- and all of it was wrong. So, where do we go from here?"
Rex tapped the list in front of him. "Once the skies open up again, we a partial group of Spaartis back up to the ship to take over non-combat roles. We start with placing them in the least training-intensive jobs, freeing up the more experienced troopers to come down in their place."
"You only want Kaminoan-trained troopers on the ground."
"Not exclusively, but until the Spaartis get up to speed, they need to be in non-combat roles. We've had ten years of training. They've had one. No wonder they can barely hold a blaster."
"I agree these shinies can barely hit the broadside of a bantha, but what's to stop Commander Appo from saying no again?"
Rex chewed his food thoughtfully, even though field rations were bland and mushy enough they required little actual chewing. "The first time I brought it up, I wanted to leave all of the Spaartis on the ship. I argued they weren't combat-ready. Now that they've been in combat, the results speak for themselves. Appo is a hardliner when it comes to following orders, but he's still a good vod at heart. I trust him to do the right thing."
Kix took a long sip, closing his eyes with pleasure as the caf hit his system. "It's a good plan. So, let's say Appo agrees to it, and we get some Spaartis topside and we keep some of them here. Assuming this works-"
"It will work," Rex said, with more confidence than he felt, "and we're going to both protect and train the remaining Spaartis troopers."
What's left of them. Out of the original thousand, half had died in the first battle, and they'd designated another 300 to head back up to the ship. But, that still left 200 they'd identified as having some potential to be field troopers.
1 out of 5.
It was something, at least.
The older vode could realistically keep an eye on that many shinies, continue training them and mentor them along. It was the best they could do with what they'd been given. And, seeing the potential of Feeeeeeeeek, Rex had some hope there was still a spark of solid Jango genetics somewhere in these troopers. "What's the status of that…. " he dropped his voice and leaned in closer to the medic, "head injury research project you've been working on?"
Kix tugged his datapad back out of Rex's hands, pulled up a different screen and handed it back. "Coric and Sly have made some progress while we've been dirtside. Since most of the wounded are all still here in the RIMSU, their workload has been light. They sent me this update this morning." He handed the datapad back to Rex, showing a series of scans and complex equations.
Rex frowned as he swiped through the screens of data. "What am I looking at here?"
Kix smiled. "If this research is heading where we are thinking and all goes well….freedom."
Rex started in surprise. "That's a lot of ifs…" There was something about Kix's words that rang true. A sense of conviction rang through him along with a sense of calm, sweeping away his doubts, guilt, and fears generated from dealing with Krell. They'd discovered something important through this research they were doing that could make a real difference for their brothers. He quickly checked his chrono, doing a mental calculation of how long he had until Krell likely commed again for a status update. Rex stared back down at the data in front of him. He'd deal with Krell later. "Alright. Take me through everything."
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