Chapter 36
A Brother to Relieve

The Millennium Falcon, for all its dilapidated state, managed not to fall out of hyperspace or shake itself to pieces in the process of making the jump to lightspeed.

"See?" The captain turned to face them with a smug expression. "I told you she's the fastest ship in the galaxy. You really lucked out with the Falcon, let me tell you. Not many pilots around here would be willing to go against the Hutts like that. Especially for a group of pirates who hijack a ship and claim it's a charter."

Anakin released his restraints and stood, needing distance from the insolent captain to regain his equilibrium. He was still quivering with the adrenaline of the past hours and an uncomfortable perturbation that he refused to examine too closely. Carefully avoiding looking directly at the Wookiee, he said, "Captain, only desperation would drive me to take my life in my hands by subjecting myself and my men to this ship or your piloting. Trust me when I say that we will all be glad to part company with you once we reach Alderaan. Provided the ship can make it that far."

Not waiting for the captain's (no doubt indignant) response, Anakin left the cockpit. Obi-Wan caught up to him halfway down the passageway.

"Anakin," he said, exasperation clear in his voice, "I realize this day has taxed your patience and your physical reserves, but you will catch more flies with honey than with vinegar. Perhaps you could be a tad more conciliatory after we commandeered his vessel without so much as a by-your-leave."

"The captain grates on my nerves."

"Why, yes, I did notice that," Obi-Wan said blandly. "Jealousy, perhaps?"

Anakin stared at him. "You think he's jealous of me?"

Obi-Wan blinked blankly before he shook his head with a sigh and raised his eyes to the bulkhead. "Never mind. Let's get everyone settled for the journey, shall we?" He gestured toward the hatch ahead of them.

The crew lounge was crowded and stuffy. Scratch and Chatter faced Hex across a round holo table to the right of the hatch. On the other side of the cabin, Cody and Dash examined Rex's back.

Cody glanced at them, then back at the wound. "Is it safe to assume we're on our way now?"

"We'll be there about midday tomorrow."

Artoo, spewing a flood of insulted and insulting invective, trundled down the passageway.

"Get out, you menace," the captain called from beyond the corridor's curve. "I don't trust droids with the Falcon. You keep your data arm in its socket and leave my ship alone." He reached the lounge, and his hard eyes bored into Anakin. "As if it isn't bad enough you hijacked us, your nuisance of a droid just jacked into my ship's systems again. The next time it happens, I'll vaporize the gremlin. Got it?"

With a heroic effort, Anakin seized his tattered patience with both hands, even remembering to take a step backward in an effort to de-escalate the situation. "Captain, I did not set out to commandeer your vessel. Or did you fail to notice that your landing platform was not only under assault by at least two teams of very determined bounty hunters but was also damaged severely enough that it was about to fall out of the sky? If I had not piloted your ship, it would be scrap—more than it is already—and you would be dead."

"That's it." Solo, still hovering in the hatchway, jammed one slender finger toward Anakin. "You hijack my ship, threaten to hold me and Chewie hostage, and insult the Falcon. We're dropping out of hyperspace at the next planet."

"That's enough—both of you." Obi-Wan spoke in the sharp tone Anakin knew from experience meant he had lost his temper. "We have over a day in close quarters together, and I refuse to spend it listening to the two of you needle each other." He dragged his hand down his face in a characteristic gesture to ground that same temper. When he encountered stubble instead of a beard, he frowned peevishly and folded his arms instead, very nearly—though not quite—manifesting the sweeping sleeves of a Jedi robe. "I am certain we can establish terms for an amicable relationship. It is most unfortunate that you have been caught up in our troubles, Captain. For some reason, we attracted a great deal of attention on Nar Shaddaa."

"Let me think—" sneered the captain. "You look—and smell—like you've come through a battle or three. You hijack ships—any ship, apparently. And how could I forget your manners? Insulting me, my piloting, and my ship."

Anakin growled under his breath, but subsided at Obi-Wan's glare.

"I remind you that we have paid you a generous fee for this trip, even if its commencement was involuntary on your part," Obi-Wan said quietly, tone and eyes steely. "Now—I suggest we begin again, Captain…?"

The captain tightened his lips, then muttered, "Solo. And my first mate is Chewbacca. Chewie for short."

"Captain Solo. Chewbacca." Obi-Wan gave a graceful half bow, for all the world as though they had met in the halls of the Jedi Temple. "I'm Ben—and this is Kaneis."

"Kaneis?" scoffed the captain. "That's not his name."

"What do you mean?" Obi-Wan paused, frowning, with his hand half-extended toward Anakin.

"Do you think I'm a moron? It means no one."

Obi-Wan dropped his hand. He and the clones stared incredulously at Anakin.

"I needed a name people wouldn't recognize." Anakin gave a half-shrug. "It seemed appropriate."

The Wookiee spoke softly but insistently to Solo.

"Just a minute." Hex straightened from his slouch. "Kaneis means no one? And nobody figured it out?"

"It's from an obscure dialect of Kuati," Anakin said, a grudging seed of respect for the brash pilot sending out a small shoot. "I'm surprised the captain recognized it."

Solo was staring in astonishment over his shoulder at his first mate. "You're kidding. Are you sure?"

The Wookiee roared again, beating a hand on his chest twice. Obi-Wan radiated dismay, although his only outward signal was an infinitesimal clenching of the muscles in his arms before he released the tension in a long, quiet exhalation.

Solo narrowed his eyes at their group. "Yeah. I see it." His lips tightened and his hand dropped to the butt of his pistol. "Why don't you tell me the truth now? What did Joosa want with Jedi and clones?"

This time Obi-Wan failed to maintain a neutral expression. His eyes widened and he stumbled over his words for a critical half-second. "I—Jedi?—Whatever do you mean?"

Solo straightened and raised his eyebrows. "Well, their resemblance is easy to see. And you've got a lightsaber on your belt. I'm not sure what's up with Mr. Nobody over there."

Obi-Wan opened his mouth, but Solo waved him off. "Look—I don't believe in the Force—a lotta hocus-pocus-mumbo-jumbo if you ask me. But I've crossed the galaxy a few times and they're—" he jerked a finger toward the men at the holotable "—definitely clones. And Chewie's been around a coupla centuries. If he says that's a lightsaber and you're a Jedi, I believe him. So why was Joosa so eager to talk to you?"

"He was probably after us for killing Jabba." Dash glanced up from bandaging Rex's back.

Solo blinked. "I—what?"

"Dash—" Anakin sighed.

"I think the gurrcat's out of the bag, sir. Boba was with them and he knows we were at Jabba's just before the podrace. He warned Jabba to beware of us."

"Why didn't you didn't mention that earlier?"

Hex leaned his elbows wearily on the holotable. "Didn't think it was relevant at the time. And I forgot about it later."

"If the Hutts put out a bounty on us," said Rex, straightening to pull his shirt back on with a grunt, "it would explain why no one would even talk to us."

"I assumed it was me—that the Togorian recognized me in that first cantina," said Anakin.

Solo, uninterested in the finer points of how they had been recognized, peered owlishly at Dash. "You guys are serious? Jabba's dead?"

"You didn't hear?" Dash asked. "It was announced at the Boonta Eve podrace."

"I've been a little busy fixing the Falcon." Solo twisted to exchange an indecipherable look with his first mate. "Jabba's really dead?"

"Yes," Anakin answered. "Does it matter?"

The Wookiee roared something but Solo only pursed his lips. "Yeah, well, whatever. It doesn't really change anything."

"Change what?" Anakin looked between them.

"Captain Solo apparently owes Jabba money," Obi-Wan said. "His partner was just pointing out that Jabba's death relieves him of the debt."

Solo crossed his arms and leaned against the hatch frame. "Not really. Whoever fills the power vacuum will claim it."

"I don't think so." Hex stretched his arms across the back of the bench in a supremely smug pose. "Unless your debt is more than two hundred years old. Then I guess it's possible."

"You were supposed to destroy all the records." Anakin frowned.

"The records room was more extensive than we thought. A secondary room had older records going back at least four hundred years. Magnetic tapes, mostly. We used incendiaries—the heat should still have destroyed the bulk of them. It was the best I could do, and as it was, we barely made it back to our room before Jabba's steward checked on us."

"I see." Anakin brushed the complication aside. "Well, I suppose it shouldn't matter. I hope we'll be back before the dust can settle too much."

Solo stared at Hex. "You destroyed Jabba's records? How? Why?"

"The details aren't important right now," Anakin said. "This is, however, privileged information. Whatever the Hutts may suspect based on Boba's report and the announcement at the race, there's no proof. So I'll offer you this deal, Captain—in addition to the fee we've already negotiated for the charter, I'll give you another three thousand for the inconvenience of having to keep what you know to yourself."

"Five thous—" Solo began, but the Wookiee interrupted him, gesticulating toward the clones.

Obi-Wan gave a half smile at whatever he had said.

"Oh, all right, you soft-hearted furball," Solo grumbled. "It's a deal. Just don't expect me to do anything else for you. And you're on your own for provisions. I got water, but I can't feed you."

"That's all right," Cody said. "We have our own provisions."

"And you'll have to sleep in shifts. The bunkroom's only got three bunks."

"We'll put someone on the floor."

"Thank you, Captain Solo, Chewbacca." Obi-Wan bowed formally in ancient Jedi style. "We do know that we have significantly inconvenienced you, and An—Kaneis' skills in diplomacy appear to have atrophied into nonexistence. We shall endeavor to cause no further trouble for you."

Solo's expression was skeptical, but all he said was, "I guess I owe you something for getting me out of Jabba's clutches. I'll be in the cockpit if you need anything."

They made a meager meal from their rations, and a series of credit flips determined who would take the first rest shift. Rex waved to Chatter, who had lost. "Don't think I can sleep just yet. Too much adrenaline still. I'll take second shift."

So it was Dash, Chatter, Scratch, and Hex who retired to the bunk room, leaving the rest to entertain themselves in the recreation cabin. The familiarity of their gathering was unsettling in its strangeness—so like and yet unlike evenings they had spent filling out reports, maintaining their weapons, or—occasionally—relaxing during the war. Obi-Wan and Cody turned on the dejarik board and soon were several moves into a game. Rex leaned back in a chair to prop his feet on the tech station.

Anakin sat on a crate at the other side of the lounge. His unease continued to plague him, and he was aggravated by his inability to pinpoint its source. With a muttered imprecation, he pulled himself out of his seat. "Artoo." The droid abandoned his observation of the dejarik game to join him. "Does Leia keep tools in one of these compartments?"

Artoo popped open a panel. Anakin sank to one knee, unaware of his faint groan. His thigh pulled uncomfortably, so he switched sides, which really wasn't any better. Rubbing absently at the muscle, he decided he didn't care—he had lived with worse. He grabbed his satchel and pulled out the miniature vacuum. Artoo trilled with pleasure as Anakin removed the light layer of dust that had collected in his recesses since their last cleaning five days ago. Anakin thrust the thought aside gently. This wasn't the best time to invite musings on Leia. Or Luke. Once the central cavity was clean, he began inspecting screws and joints.

Cody chuckled.

He looked up to find all three men regarding him with varying degrees of amusement. "What?" he asked, tone more defensive than he realized.

"It's clear some things haven't changed," Kenobi said with a twinkle in his eyes. He tipped his head toward Cody. "Did he do this as Darth Vader?"

Cody shrugged. "I don't know. I wasn't privy to that sort of activity when I was a stormtrooper." He turned to Anakin. "Did you do this as Darth Vader?"

"Do what?"

"Fix things when you were feeling agitated," Kenobi said.

Anakin blinked and gave the matter some thought. "I…suppose? I worked on my shuttle and my TIE."

"Luke does the same," Rex said quietly with a challenging look.

Anakin stared at him, then swallowed heavily and returned his attention to Artoo. He gripped the screwdriver more tightly. This time he recognized the crawling weight in his chest for what it was. He would not be jealous of Rex. That was petty and selfish in light of all Rex had done for Luke.

"Sounds like the Nubian apple didn't fall far from the tree," Cody quipped. "Does Leia do the same?"

Obi-Wan advanced his savrip. "Sometimes. Generally, she flies." He flickered an amused glance at Anakin. "And then lies about it."

Anakin still didn't know what to say. He was tongue-tied as he had not been for many years. Feeling uncomfortably warm, he kept his attention on a minute adjustment to the arc welder arm.

"It's a good thing we have Artoo along or he'd be making modifications to Solo's ship. Wouldn't you, sir?" Cody said. He darted a glance at Anakin, then looked back at the game.

"I…ah…" Anakin lifted his head to look squarely at Cody. "Are you ever going to call me Anakin, Cody?" His smile was strained but genuine.

Cody sighed, attention fixed on the board in front of him. "I'm trying, si—Anakin." He met Anakin's eyes with a visible effort. "It's just—the chips weren't the only programming we had. And it's…hard to overcome that."

"Yes. I understand." Anakin looked down. "Thank you."

Silence fell for a time. Cody and Obi-Wan played as they had been accustomed: long periods of consideration preceding a careful move. Anakin pulled himself to his feet to pace in the cramped space between the two hatches, but just a few passes convinced him to sit down again.

Not bothering to lift his eyes from the dejarik board, Obi-Wan rubbed his chin irritably. "While you wait for a bunk, why don't you spend some time in a healing trance? It's obvious there's something wrong with your leg." He frowned, his hand poised above his k'lor'slug.

"I will if you will," Anakin offered.

"I'm fine."

"No, you're not. I have a strained muscle; you took a blaster bolt. Don't be a hypocrite."

They exchanged challenging looks for a long moment. Then Kenobi sighed.

"Very well," he grumbled, scooting out from behind the holotable, "where do you suggest we do this?"

"There's a cargo bay over there. It's empty except for some spare parts. A little chilly, but…you never minded that."

"That was before I spent eighteen years on Tatooine."

Anakin snorted and limped toward the hatch. "Buck up. I'm sure you can handle it."

Rex stared at the dark rectangle of the cargo bay hatch long after Skywalker and Kenobi had vanished. Some of the tension he had been under for the past couple of days eased. "So." He turned toward Cody. "What was it like serving under him?"

"Lord Vader?" Cody flicked off the holo board. "He was efficient, competent, and aloof. Led from the front. A brilliant strategist—but you know that. Also ruthless, short-tempered, and intolerant of failure."

Rex grunted. "I heard the death rate was appallingly high."

"Among natborn officers." Cody picked up his rifle. "Why don't you join me?" He indicated the seat that Kenobi had occupied. Rex gathered his own weapon, and they began the old ritual of disassembling their weapons for cleaning.

"Skywalker always was impatient with incompetence," Cody said pensively after a few moments of companionable silence. "That trait only became more pronounced as Vader. The upper ranks of the officer corps were political appointees who couldn't command their way out of a paper bag. Without Kenobi to restrain his worst tendencies…" He shrugged, as though the sentence didn't need to be completed. Perhaps it didn't. "The Emperor kept him on a tight leash, though—Lord Vader seemed to know who was off limits." Cody paused before lowering his voice. "I sometimes thought the Emperor put certain people in his path on purpose. He could kill two droids with one popper—eliminate someone and divert any fallout by claiming Lord Vader had been out of control."

Rex's lips tightened but he restrained his instinctive bitter comment.

Cody hurried to add, "But that was nothing more than political posturing and disinformation. Vader was a tool to the Emperor, just as much as the rest of us, and he knew exactly how to use him."

That was too far. The accusation burst out without Rex's conscious decision. "How can you defend him? Didn't you see what he did to the Temple? To my men?"

Cody set his rifle down with a heavy thunk. "Yes, I did. I was on Lord Vader's escort squad when the Emperor inspected the premises."

"You mean when he went to gloat."

"Yes." Cody was unperturbed by Rex's passion. "The memories are bad—without the chip. With it…I didn't feel anything but righteous satisfaction and pride. The fact that I can feel shame over it now—it's only because he ordered the chips removed." He picked up a rod and attached a solvent-soaked pad to the end. "Accusing me of defending him makes it sound like I'm justifying the evil he did. I'm not. I'm trying to be balanced. He did a lot of terrible things—things you have heard him admit to, remember—but he also did some things the Republic didn't ever do, at least for us.

"You're so angry over 'what he did to your men' under Order 66. And, all right, I'd feel the same in your shoes. But 'what he did to your men' after the Order was to keep them alive." Cody fed the rod into the bore of his rifle. "He consolidated the clones into their own units so they would be shielded from the worst of the anti-clone bias in the Imperial forces. He kept the 501st together and under his direct protection instead of redistributing us as he was ordered to. He disciplined natborn officers who abused clones. When the Emperor discarded us, he ensured we had pensions."

He paused for a moment, then resumed his work. "He was a good commander for clones. He didn't treat us as cannon fodder—well, no more than any other stormtroopers. I never saw him abuse a stormtrooper either—natborn or clone. He wasn't an…admirable person—but he had his—well, I hesitate to call them virtues—but his good points, even as a Sith Lord."

Rex was silent for a time, pressing the rod through his own rifle with deliberation. "I know what you're trying to tell me. And it's something to think about. But I can't forget what I saw at the Temple that day. I got to the perimeter and all Bow said was, 'Good soldiers follow orders.'"

"Yeah, well, you're damn lucky he didn't say, 'Execute Order 66,' or you'd have become a mindless drone with the rest of us." Cody set aside the rod and picked up a brush. "I don't think you understand, Rex. Your chip never activated."

An awkward silence reigned. Rex gnawed his lip. This felt rude. Intrusive. But who else could he ask? "What was it like?"

"I shot my general off a cliff," Cody said expressionlessly.

Rex blinked. "…what?"

"It was—I can't really describe it." Cody set his elbows on the table and rested his head on his hands. "When the order came through, it was all that mattered. I couldn't resist it. I didn't want to resist it. So I called the shot to kill my—well, my friend. And felt justified as I did it."

"Oh." Rex's voice was small. His hands shook a little as he applied lubricant to a cloth.

"I was nothing but a droid," Cody said softly. "The right order from the right person was all it took. If you hadn't been on leave—it would have been the same for you. And if that had happened and Skywalker hadn't pledged his allegiance to the Emperor, you'd have shot him in the back. You and all your men—first chance you got. Friendship or not."

Rex kept his eyes on his hands, smoothly pushing the rod through the bore once more. In his head, he knew this. He had known it since he had first discovered what the chip in his head was for. Somehow, the knowledge had never felt as real as it did in this moment. He almost felt ashamed to have escaped the mass betrayal by lucky chance.

Cody placed his hands flat on the table. "Rex, look at me." He waited until the other man had raised his head. "I'm glad you escaped all that. That you found a purpose and meaning and companionship. Just—don't blame those of us who went through it for being grateful to Lord Vader for what he did for us. You lived a different life and you didn't see the things we saw. You didn't do the things we did." Cody nodded toward the cockpit. "I can hardly stand to look that Wookiee in the face. You know why? Because I was part of the force that subdued Kashyyyk. I rounded up hundreds of Wookiees just like him—adults and children both—snapped slave collars on them and loaded them on crowded transports. Just two months earlier they were our allies, but we couldn't even analyze the orders, let alone resist them. Not until Lord Vader removed the chips."

"Yeah. I'm sorry. I guess…" Rex studied the blaster in front of him as he tried to find words to express what he had never shared with anyone, not even Ahsoka. She had had enough burdens without carrying his too. "General Skywalker was my friend. At least I thought he was. When Ahsoka told me what really happened…" His fists clenched. "The thought that he could have done that...and to the same people he had taken such risks to protect so many times. To the men I thought he was loyal to…"

He took a deep breath. "I don't know what to think anymore. Ahsoka missed him so much. I'd never seen her drink, but she got dead drunk the night she told me. Not even twenty and having to handle that. And Luke. He was a cute little guy, all smiles and blond hair and blue eyes. It hurt to look at him sometimes. Knowing what his father had become. What we were protecting him from.

"Years on the run. Always trying to avoid patrols. The late night conversations, coming up with contingencies if we were ever caught. Terrified that something strange would happen around him and the wrong person would see it. Trying to give Luke a childhood with the threat of the Empire always hanging over him."

"As far as I can tell, you succeeded," Cody said.

Rex met his eyes.

"I didn't see much of him, but he seems like a happy, well-adjusted kid. He trusts you. You clearly love him." There was a pause while Cody's familiar brown eyes examined him. "Are you worried he'll choose Skywalker over you?"

Rex flinched and gave an uncertain little laugh. That was direct. And he didn't know how to answer. He set down the rod beside his weapon. "I…I—"

Cody's expression softened even further. "It's understandable if you're jealous. Skywalker has always been charismatic. People will follow him even when he does the most insane things."

Rex gave him an incredulous look. "You're one to talk."

"I'd say it proves my point."

Rex studied his hands again. "Luke idolizes his father. He wants to be a Jedi and a hero just like him."

"The recent revelations may have dampened that fervor," Cody said sardonically.

"I doubt it. Not if Skywalker really has changed as you say he has."

"And you're remembering how possessive he always was of anyone he considered his."

Rex flicked his fingers together but otherwise made no reply. He didn't want to acknowledge the fear that bubbled in his gut at the thought of Anakin Skywalker dazzling Luke with his skills with the Force and his daring piloting.

"Honestly, I don't think it will happen," Cody said, voice still quiet. "He's been pretty detached with Leia—except when she was shot. For the most part, he argued with General Kenobi over how to keep her safe. She was not happy with his protective attitude. Even if I'm wrong and he does try to squeeze you out, you've raised Luke for—what? close to eighteen years?"

"Sixteen."

"That's a long time. And if Skywalker does try to exclude you, there are a bunch of us who'll take your side."

Rex gave a skeptical little huff of air, still avoiding Cody's eyes.

"Really. Commander Tano for sure. Me. I'm pretty sure the rest of the vod'e would join me. Probably Kenobi too." Cody paused briefly. "Skywalker may be Luke's father, but you raised him. Just because Luke wants to know his father, that doesn't mean he'll abandon you. You don't erase that many years overnight."

Rex's lips twisted. "Yeah, well, I'm just the substitute male role model. I can't even touch the Force. How can I compete with Anakin The-Hero-With-No-Fear Skywalker?"

"How can he compete with you? Luke only knows him from the stories you and Tano have told and now from whatever he knows about Darth Vader. You raised Luke since he was two. You taught him all sorts of things that dads teach their sons. How to shoot, how to shave, how to fly. I guarantee that Skywalker would give every smidgen of his Force sensitivity to trade places with you."

"I guess we'll see. He hasn't even asked me any questions about Luke."

"And you think that's because he resents what you've done? I think it's more likely to be the opposite. He's afraid. Afraid Luke won't want to know him. Afraid to build too many dreams about life with his kids. And you did tell him in no uncertain terms that you blame him for siding with the Emperor. I told you that all of us who went through Order 66 feel shame and guilt over what we did. Imagine what he's carrying. As he told us, we didn't have a choice, but he did and he made the wrong one. At least I can tell myself that my betrayal was involuntary. He doesn't have that comfort."

Cody reached out to place a hand on Rex's forearm. "I'm with you, vod. I always have been. In whatever way you need."

Rex choked down the lump in his throat. He had missed Cody so much. "Thanks." It was more escaping air than a word, but Cody's squeeze on his arm told him it had been heard.