Dear Reader, well, this is a little odd. I'd typed my usual opening/closing remarks, but they didn't take on the save. So, I'm retyping them and I'll repost. Thanks to my reviewers once again! I'm especially glad to see that the Yusani/Echo scene was well-received. She does appear in a few more scenes. I wrote and rewrote and rewrote this chapter, because it was originally so sugary, I was afraid I'd send everyone into a diabetic coma! Hopefully, there's only a little taste of honey left! I'll put most of my notes at the bottom, but one upfront. The lyrics to the song that opens the chapter is from the Bollywood movie Rang de Basanti, and it's truly a lovely piece. I imagine Maree to look Indian (as in from India), so a Hindi song appealed to me. Enjoy, CS

Chapter 25 Gallant Captain

"Mann ki gali tu phuharoon si aa (Come to the street of my heart like a rain shower)
bheeg jaye mere khwabon ka kafila (Let the caravan of my dreams be drenched)
jise tu gungunaye meri dhun hai wahin (What you sing, that alone is my tune)
tu bin bataye mujhe le chal kaheen (Without saying a word, you take me to a place)
jahan tu muskuraye meri manzil wahin (where you smile, and that is my only destination).

Tu Bin Bataye
Prashoon Joshi and A.R. Rahmen

It turned out, not to Rex's surprise, that he was a good dancer. He picked up the movements easily, and his unhindered confidence gave him a boost when it came to learning and mastering new things. To be sure, he had danced before – on Coruscant at several events he'd attended with General Skywalker. There had never been any true call for Rex—a mere clone captain—to attend the formal balls and receptions that the general was expected to attend; but Skywalker had made it clear from the earliest moments of their acquaintance: "If I have to suffer through it, so do you."

Of course, those affairs were nothing like the festival he was at now. The atmosphere that prevailed around him felt like those gatherings he'd only heard of, held in the uncivilized hinterlands of most inhabited planets, free-wheeling and without the stuffy sophistication of the highly organized events of the upper crust. And while this had not the baseness and crudity of the lower level clubs of Coruscant—for he'd been in those, as well—a certain sense of ease pervaded the night's festivities, and Rex found himself trying to recall when he'd last had as much fun.

He stayed on the floor with Doma Maree for two rather folksy trounces following the quasi-waltz; and although he knew his men were watching him with appraising and amused eyes, he also knew that it made them happy to see him enjoying himself; for Rex had figured out long ago that his men believed their captain deserved to be content. For all that he gave of himself for the good of his men, Rex's soldiers reciprocated in whatever ways they could. Genuine affection for their captain was never in short supply.

At the conclusion of the second trounce, he glinted at Maree with a cocksure smile. "I'm not wearing you out, am I?"

Maree puffed out a heavy breath. "I can certainly tell you are well-healed."

"Eh, my side's actually still a little sore," he admitted. "I didn't feel it while we were dancing, but I feel it now, standing here."

"Then a pause is in order," the Doma stated with quiet authority. "You do not need to reinjure yourself again. Especially when it would be my fault." She paused. "Will you walk outside with me?"

Rex inclined his head to the side in consent. "I will." It seemed like the gentlemanly thing to do.

And he was glad he'd agreed to it, for outside the crowded pavilion, the night air felt comparatively cool and invigorating. There were many people lingering about in the area immediately surrounding the pavilion. Food and drink booths were set up and busily supplying the revelers with a variety of fare.

Doma Maree passed by these booths and took one of the pathways that wended its first east then north towards the wilderness. Rex accompanied her.

"Commander Cody and Au-Trava should have reached Heembab by now," the Doma announced.

"With no communication, there's really no way of knowing, is there?" Rex asked.

"No," she replied. "And that circumstance has never bothered me until now. I admit that I want to know if they have arrived safely. The Separatists, when they left here, may have been headed for Heembab. I pray that they did not spot them on the way."

Rex was upbeat. "Cody's very clever, probably the smartest man in the entire GAR. Even if they were spotted, he'd find a way to get out of it."

"The desert isn't an easy place to hide," Maree pointed out.

"I'm sure that's what everyone thinks, and that idea is what the commander would use to his advantage," Rex replied. A pause. "I just hope he can contact the fleet."

They walked on a bit further. The sounds of music from the pavilion slowly faded as other music from closer celebrations took up where the other left off. But it all sounded like the last in a series of echoes as they moved further afield. The lights faded behind them, showing the night sky in all its wonder.

"The stars are very beautiful. I marvel at the Creator's might," Maree said.

Rex raised his eyes and saw the pinpricks of light. "I've never really noticed if they were beautiful or not. They're always just . . . there. I fly through them. I use them from time to time to chart courses . . . when the navi-computer isn't working."

The Doma looked at him with a degree of subtle pity. "One of our great philosophers had a saying: 'We go abroad to wonder at the heights of mountains, at the huge waves of the sea, at the long courses of the rivers, at the vast compass of the ocean, and we pass ourselves by without wondering.'" She stopped walking and turned to face him. "That's you, Captain."

Rex simpered. "I thought we were talking about the stars."

She continued to regard him steadily. "We are."

Rex felt the warmth rise in his face. He gave a nervous laugh. "I'm, uh, I've always been too busy to pay much attention to anything but battle plans."

"You pay attention to your men."

"Any good leader does that," Rex replied. "You know what I mean. You're in a leadership position, too." He hit on a thought, and a satisfied grin formed across his face. "In fact, that quote you just said: it could be about you, too."

Maree laughed, a soft sweet sound. "You are the one worthy of wonder, Captain. Not me."

Rex guffawed. "Someone who can sense injury with the touch of her hand? Someone who can do whatever it was that I saw last night in that temple? I think you've got it backwards, Doma."

"No. I have it quite right," she said with certainty. "That a special gift is put to use is no wonder at all. That an ordinary man can be so . . . extra-ordinary; that is where the wonder lies."

"Well, you're certainly giving me quite an ego," Rex said.

"I think you already had quite an ego," the Doma quipped.

Rex considered for a moment. "I also intend to prove that I truly do have good manners." He held out his arm.

Doma Maree was touched by the gesture. She hesitated only a moment before looping her arm through his, and gazing up at him, she felt as if she were seeing him for the first time. She had always thought he was handsome, but now, when she looked at him, he was beyond handsome. His charm and sincerity—even his arrogance—he was beautiful. There was not a jot of falsehood in him, at least none that was detectable in the rather severe expression that was his usual countenance. And when the rare smile did occasionally grace his features, its impact was all the more meaningful, given the scarcity of its appearance. He was exactly what a soldier should be: brave, honest, generous, and . . . if she dared say it, manly. While Maree could easily detect the sensitivity beneath the gruff surface, she was impressed that Rex betrayed not even the slightest hint of softness, daintiness, or sweetness. Here stood a soldier who was male through and through. And not one bit apologetic about it.

"You're looking at me like that, but I don't know what you're thinking," Rex said in his straightforward way.

The Doma saw no reason to withhold the truth. "I'm thinking what a good man you are, and how nice it is to be here with you."

Of all the answers he could have imagined, this was not one of them. Her words gave him great satisfaction and contentment to the point where he felt no response was necessary except to continue walking.

Several minutes passed in silence, then Maree spoke again.

"Are you happy here, Captain?"

"You know, you can call me Rex."

"And I shall, when it feels right. Are you happy here?"

"Yes," Rex replied.

Maree could hear the unspoken reservation. She looked at him with delving eyes.

"And no," Rex conceded. "Please don't take that the wrong way. I mean, it's beautiful here, and your people have been wonderful. They way they've taken care of us . . . it's all more than I could have asked for." He drew a deep breath. "But as a soldier, I—I'm not used to this kind of peace. My general, my brothers are out there fighting, and I want to be with them. I hate the idea of them being in the middle of a battle zone, and I'm not there to lead and protect them." A pause. "I know it sounds ridiculous, but I always feel that, as long as I'm there, everything will be alright." He made a sound of anguish. "Even though I know that's not true. I've lost so many men . . . even while I was standing right there, watching them die, and I couldn't do anything to save them. But I'd rather be there than not."

"It sounds like a hard life," Maree said.

"Like I told you last night, it's what we were created for."

"You and I will continue to disagree on that," she differed. "It may be what the Kaminoans created you for, but there is a greater architect; and since I know how uncomfortable the subject makes you, I will leave it at that."

Rex was silent for a long moment. When he spoke again, it was with cautious curiosity. "Don't you think it's possible that . . . that your architect made me for the same purpose? To lead these men into battle? Isn't that a gift?" He went on without waiting for an answer. "Not too long ago, I met a man, a clone who had deserted the army. He'd watched all this brothers get killed, and he felt his life had no meaning, so he ran away from the army. He became a farmer. He married a Twi'lek woman and raised her two children as his own." His gaze drifted off over the treetops. "I had to stay with them while I was recovering from an injury. He tried to convince me that I wanted the same things he had – a wife and family." He was having difficulty choosing his words. "And . . . it was a very . . . comforting scene. It was like looking at a painting. So perfect, so tempting. But still, only a painting, and one that I knew I could never be a part of. It wasn't me. Cut was wrong," he said, referring to the deserter. "The life that he wanted, the life that he had, it was perfect. For him. But it wasn't perfect for me."

As he spoke, he did not notice that he had drawn his linked arm closer to his chest. It was as if he'd forgotten he that he'd taken the Doma's arm in his, and some reflexive part of him was pulling in defensively. He went on with carefully spoken words. "You have no idea what it's like to look at something and find it . . . calling out to you; but you know it's not meant for you."

The Doma could feel the distress that had suddenly surged through his body. She turned her wrist and took his hand, drawing his arm back down in an effort to ease the tension. "On the contrary, I know exactly what you are talking about," she replied. She kept a hold on his hand and began walking. "Ever since I was a little girl, I wanted to be a Vervien Sister. But I also wanted to get married and have a family. I knew I couldn't do both. When I found out that I had been given the gift of Skrit-Na, I knew the choice I had to make. Yet, for a long time, I feared I could never be good enough to be a Sister. They're very pious, very holy people. So, I kept waiting and putting it off."

"What made you finally decide?"

"It was a sign from the Creator," she replied. "More than that, I won't say. It's a private matter."

"Do you ever regret your decision?"

"Never. Being a sister has been the greatest blessing," she replied. "It's had its challenges, but I've been up to each one." A pause. "I would ask you if you regret your decision, except you never really had a choice, did you? I think, for you, desertion would never have been an option. And you don't have the freedom to leave the army. War is the only life you've been offered." She tightened her grip on his hand, hoping to encourage him to continue being open with her. In the last twenty minutes, he said more than he had the entire ten days prior. "What happens when the war ends?"

"I don't know," Rex answered truthfully. "Right now, I'm just focused on trying to survive it."

"You seem pretty resourceful to me," she said. "Even so, we will pray for your safety and the safety of your men even after you've left here."

"I should tell you that a clone's survival on the front lines isn't even one standard year," Rex told her.

"How long have you been fighting?"

"Just over a year." He grinned ruefully. "So, you see, I should have been knocked off by now."

"You're very glib about it," the Doma noted. "You're not like that when it comes to your men."

"That's because they're my responsibility," Rex replied. "Just like all the lives within these walls are your responsibility, Doma."

"You can call me Maree," she said.

Rex seized on the moment to repeat her own words. "And I will. When it feels right."

In the next instant, he froze.

"Did you hear that?" He was immediately on the alert. "There's someone or something in the bushes behind us."

Maree didn't appear nearly as concerned. In fact, she was not concerned at all.

"I think our audience followed us from the pavillion," she whispered.

"What?"

"I've thought they were behind us most of the time we've been out here. Some of the children who were watching us dance. They're curious, of course," she explained, adding, "And they truly have no manners."

Rex wasn't sure whether to laugh or feel embarrassed. "They've been following us this whole time, and I didn't detect them?"

"Maybe you had more important things on your mind," Maree replied, then a sly grin played across her lips. "But since they went to all the trouble of following us, let's make them work for it." She leaned over and pulled the back of the frock between her legs and tucked it into her cumber bund. "Follow me!"

She took off like a mila-cat, and Rex followed her.

He could hear the sounds of pursuit and the occasional giggle and snicker of young children, and he could not help but marvel at the idea of a reserved and pious woman, a religious leader, taking these children on a wild run through the dark in the wilderness. Not that there was anything wrong with the chase itself; but rather, he was surprised that the Doma would act in such an undignified, even child-like, manner – pleasant as he might find such behavior to be.

Still, he found his side beginning to ache after about a minute of dashing through the trees, making abrupt turns, and leaping across the stream at its narrower parts. He was about to announce, in all humiliation, that he needed to stop; but then Maree drew up to a stop and snagged him by the sleeve, pulling him into a small recess in a clump of scrubby Eylick bushes.

They were on a low lip of rock just above of the pools.

"Do you think we lost them?" Rex asked breathlessly. He found it was actually rather fun to evade an enemy that wasn't trying to kill him. He didn't wait for an answer before peering around the clump of bushes, and seeing no one in pursuit, he looked out across the water to the other side. "Where could they have gone? I could hear them behind us most of the way."

Instead of receiving an answer, he found himself plunging sloppily into the pool. Splashing immediately to the surface, he looked up to see the Doma standing on the ledge with her hands planted firmly on her hips and satisfied grin plastered across her face.

"Wh-what did you do that for?!" Rex demanded, not angrily—for he was not in the least upset, just stunned.

The Doma took on a deep, mocking voice. "I was going to use that communicator to contact the fleet," she aped.

Rex felt the smile creeping into his expression. "Is that supposed to be an imitation of me?"

"Just getting even," Maree snipped.

Rex swam to the ledge. "Are holy people supposed to be vengeful?"

"No," she answered. "But you deserved it. I really believed you when you told me that about the communicator, and it made me feel terrible."

"Yes, but I confessed right away that it was a joke. Didn't that earn me some forgiveness?" He chuckled. "But I guess I did deserve it." He held up his hand. "Come help me out."

"There's no chance of that, Captain," Maree replied. "You are perfectly capable of getting out of the water on your own. I'm not going to be pulled down in there with you."

Unbidden and utterly unexpected, a very sexual image floated up in Rex's mind, prompted by the words of her refusal. He wanted her down in the pool with him. He wanted to reach out and touch her through the medium of water, beneath the surface where the movements would be unseeable. He wanted to feel her hands on his waist, sifting through the layers of soaked cloth, searching for his bare skin . . .

And then the reverie was shot to pieces as all around him, the night was filled with children's voices raised in laughter and shouting, and the water erupted in sprays and plumes raised by those very same children as they jumped into the pool.

Within seconds, he had at least a dozen—maybe more—playmates. Mostly the young boys who had sat so mesmerized at the feet of the clones, absorbing all their tales. Rex, as the leader of the soldiers, had quickly become one of the boys' favorites, and he would not begrudge them this moment – even though it did make him feel a bit odd to know that these children had followed him and the Doma all the way from the pavilion, hoping to steal a glimpse of affection.

On the ledge with the Doma stood a number of the teenaged girls. Rex was surprised they'd managed to pull themselves away from his brothers, given how entranced they'd been. He half-hoped they would push the Doma into the water, but it became quite clear that, while the girls felt at ease and comfortable with Maree—enough to follow her on her walk—they had a certain line they would not cross. Apparently, dousing the spiritual leader was on the other side of the line.

"Were they all in on this?" Rex asked.

"No," Maree answered, her smile visible in the moonlight. "It certainly wasn't planned. It's just that when we ended up hiding here beside the water, I remembered that you had a punishment coming to you. It seemed like a perfect opportunity. The children being here just sweetened the brew."

Rex regarded her shrewdly. "So, I take it you're not going to join me. It's nice in here—"

"I'll come in!" Lutcha volunteered and was practically over the edge before the Doma stopped her with a strong hand on her arm.

"Lutcha, my dear, you will not."

"Why not!? Oh Doma, we're fully dressed! It's not like you can see any—"

"The answer is no." The Doma was very serious and firm. "In fact, I want all of you to head back to the festivities. Take the boys with you, and turn them over to the brothers so they can get into something dry."

"Are you and Captain Rex coming back, too?" Preela asked.

"We will be right behind you."

It took some doing before all the boys moped out of the pool, whining, protesting and pleading for more time. But when, at last, they were headed back down the path, they had already recovered their good spirits and were singing and laughing and pretending to be soldiers themselves. The girls went with them.

Rex heaved himself out of the water onto the ledge.

"You know, these clothes might be light and comfortable when they're dry, but soaking wet is another story," he quipped, getting to his feet where he stood with the garments clinging and dripping. He began wringing out the tunic, but to little avail.

"You can take that off to wring it out, the tunic," Maree informed him, which brought a curious expression into Rex's eye.

"I . . . I didn't think that would be appropriate," he admitted, then with a somewhat sardonic humor, he added, "I'd be half-naked out here alone with you."

Maree gave an arch smile. "I've seen you full-naked, Captain. In the healing rooms – many times while you were recovering."

Rex hadn't believed it possible. She had turned the tables on him so quickly, so easily. He was glad it was dark so she couldn't see the color rising in his cheeks.

But she did not need to see him to know she had embarrassed him, and she actually felt a bit sorry for his discomfort, even though she had intentionally aimed at prodding his modesty—or lack thereof, she wasn't really sure which. The question of whether this clone captain was genuinely modest was hardly clear. On one hand, he was clearly confident in himself, his skills, and his ability to achieve whatever he wanted. On the other hand, he sometimes appeared almost painfully self-conscious about what constituted proper behavior from a man in his position.

The latter uncertainty had suddenly leapt in to knock the former confidence off its pedestal. But Maree was not fooled, for she knew the piston was the stronger, dominant force – and that piston would not suffer long to be removed from its place of honor.

"It's part of being a healer," she quickly added, trying to inject a measure of ordinariness into the idea.

"Well, I hope you at least like what you saw," he muttered under his breath, not sure whether he intended for her to hear him or not. He continued to wring out the tunic – while still wearing it.

Her response made it clear that she had heard him quite precisely. "I don't see people that way when I am looking at them as patients," Maree explained. "You looked like an otherwise healthy man who was injured. And who'd been injured many times before."

"That's a clever dodge," Rex challenged.

"What would you have me say, Captain?" she rejoined, and there was a quality to her voice—something almost sad, almost yearning—that made Rex suddenly realize how perplexing and difficult this conversation must appear from her point of view.

"Only what you feel comfortable with saying," he replied.

She was silent several seconds, and when she began her voice contained the sincerity that had marked Rex's brief acquaintance with her. What he had not expected, and what now touched him was the degree to which she divulged her own feelings on the matter.

"Very well, then. As I told you earlier, I think you are a very good man." She paused, as if contemplating whether or not to speak her next thought. "I fear that you possess the kind of goodness that evil despises so much that . . . it goes out of its way to try and destroy it. You're an honest man, Captain; there's nothing artful about you. And so, I will be equally as honest. I think you want to know if I'm attracted to you. If you truly need an answer, then the answer is yes."

Rex grinned, although he wasn't sure why. The fact that she found him attractive was a boon to his ego but not anything that mattered in a practical sense.

Still, he did not try to suppress that warm feeling in his chest. "So then . . . has he?"

She looked at him with a bemused expression. "Has . . . has who what?"

The confidence had fully replaced the uncertainty. "Has the gallant captain won the Doma's heart?"

Maree smiled sweetly. "In every way that counts." Her expression turned from sweet to sad, though the smile still remained. "And I know he understands the . . . limitations of that victory."

"He does." Rex held a wet arm out, and Maree accepted once again. "Because he also has his own set of limitations."

Note: The quote about "Men travel abroad to see . . . pass themselves without wonder" is from Saint Augustine. He had such brilliant thoughts.

And although readers may not care, I still like to mention the soundtrack I write to. The song up above, Tu Bin Bataye, was the backdrop for when Rex first offers her his arm and the subsequent conversation. And believe it or not, "Under the Stars" from the Lion King came into play as well, especially when they are trying to elude the children. Just for kicks . . .

The scene where Maree shoves him into the water and then imitates/mocks him. One of my all-time most beloved scenes in the entire TCW saga is between Anakin and Ahsoka. In Landing at Point Rain, they are at the wall and Anakin gives her grief about not warning him about the wall. Ahsoka replies, imitating Anakin, "Don't worry, Snips, we won't be anywhere near that wall!" It's so well-animated and well-voice-acted that it makes me laugh every time I see it. My scene was a direct rip-off from that scene. Imitation = flattery.

Lastly, Rex's rather, er, sensual thoughts for a few seconds there . . . I struggled with this because I don't want to go down the road of a romance and have people's expectations move in that direction. The story is about Rex, Anakin, the 501st and 212th, and eventually, it does move on from here. So, if you are reading in hopes of a romantic liaison with steamy writing and happily ever after, I forewarn you that you will be disappointed! :-)