Dear Reader, Thank you again to my wonderful reviewers. I will put most comments at the end. Two notes: Dukna is Copian for Lieutenant. And Rex's exposition on General Skywalker was one of the first scenes I wrote in this entire story, and I built the rest of the story around it. It remains, to this day, one of my favorite scenes. Enjoy! CS

Chapter 26 In Trutina

"In trutina mentis dubia
fluctuant contraria
lascivus amor et pudicitia.
Sed eligo quod video,
collum iugo prebeo:
ad iugum tamen suave transeo.

(Latin)

English translation:

I am suspended
between love
and chastity,
but I choose
what is before me
and take upon myself the sweet yoke."

Songs from Benediktbeuern (as adapted into Orff's Carmina Burana)

"Stop. Listen."

Au-Trava, Three-Point, and Moog all halted the movement of their Shempa at Cody's command.

"I hear it," Three-Point announced, his voice containing note of anxious dread. He looked back over his shoulder and scanned the horizon. A pinpoint of black caught his eye, and he knew, even from this distance, precisely what he was looking at. "We've got trouble, Commander. Perfidio-class landing craft, heading this way."

"Looks like the Separatists have managed to track us to this planet. They're probably heading for Heembab," Cody surmised. "But we'll be easy to see, alone out here."

"What should we do, Commander?" Moog asked.

Cody had no good answer. There was nowhere to hide, nowhere to take up defensive positions. The only thing he could think of was to bury themselves under the sand – except that in the Swaig Flats, the sand wasn't the fine, powdery stuff of the dunes. The flats had some little moisture, and the sand was mixed with dirt in a crunching, heat-cracked surface. Either way, it was not conducive to concealment. "With any luck, they'll pass us by. We can probably dodge under the Shempa, if we need to. That will at least take away their visual. Keep your weapons concealed but at the ready. Let's see what happens."

"You will not need to fight," Au-Trava spoke up. "There are other ways."

"I'm all ears," Cody replied.

"It will involve a different kind of risk, but if it is successful, it will put an end to their pursuit."

"I'm ready to try anything."

"Come, we must alter our course a bit to the north . . . "

"Admiral, we have a visual on the lifeforms. Matrixing reveals that three of them could be clones. They have altered their course and are heading northeast."

Lord Admiral Vrehnka settled back in his command chair with a swell of smug satisfaction. "Well, well, flies in the sand. I knew they could not have all been killed in the crash. Clones are tenacious little beasts. Bring the ship down in front of them. Ready four squads."

"There will not be much time," Au-Trava warned. "As soon as you hear me, do not hesitate."

"You're not leaving us much room for error," Cody grimaced. "If there are battle droids on board that ship, we won't stand a chance, just the four of us against hundreds."

Au-Trava nodded. "That is why you must not hesitate. We will not get a second chance."

"Can, uh, can these things move that fast?" Three-Point asked.

"You would be surprised," Au-Trava replied. "The Shempa can move very fast when necessary."

The ship passed overhead at a low level and descended to land in the sand in front of them.

All four men kept their heads and faces mostly covered by the lungees. Yet, none of them believed that would be a deterrent. They were on the verge of being found out, and Au-Trava's plan was the only possibility of escape.

A boarding ramp lowered, and two squads of battle droids emerged, followed by a Copian wearing the marks of the admiralty. Behind him came two more squads of droids.

"Admiral Vrehnka," Cody swore under his breath, immediately recognizing the Copian as the sadistic hero of the battle of Urque-hars in the years before the official start of the clone wars. The Admiral had been in charge of holding the defensive line of Urque-hars, a Copia-aligned planet, during the great sixty-year war between Copia and its neighboring system, named after its most populated planet, Glemmel. That war had ended abruptly and with finality only two years before the clone wars had started, when Admiral Vrehnka had decided that the planet of Urque-hars was the perfect ambush location for the encroaching Glemmelians.

And he had been right.

Urque-hars had not been densely populated. The main reason for this was that, as a planet still in the early stages of its evolutionary process, it was primarily a ball of explosive gases and liquid, delicately enclosed in a thin outer crust. The inhabitants had been mostly scientific types and a strange category of dreamers who had wanted a fresh start on a newly developing planet that had only just reached a point in its genesis where it was liveable.

Such a volatile planet made for an equally volatile weapon.

Admiral Vrehnke had lured the Glemmelian fleet towards this last line of defense in a war that the Copians had been steadily losing. A single high-tonnage rhydonium warhead fired into the planet's equatorial rift had set off a chain reaction that turned the planet into a bomb, wiping out the enemy fleet and ending the war. And the lives of those who had lived on Urque-hars.

But that was not why he was considered a hero.

No.

After Urque-hars, the Admiral had taken his own fleet to Glemmel to demand a surrender; and receiving it, he then proceeded—with the approval of his own government—to ransack the entire planet. The horrors that followed had gained the Copians their reputation as the master torturers of the galaxy. They were a brutal race, and Cody had seen enough training holo's of their methods to know that these were an enemy in whose hands he never wanted to find himself. In fact, the escape and evasion portion of ARC training had used the Copian model as their mock prisoner of war camp. His experience there had been one of the darkest times of Cody's life, but it had also shown him the leader he was meant to be. It had also forged the final link in the chain of friendship that had been forming between him and Rex, the link that had finally proven that Rex, despite the singularity of his ambition, was not without need. But those were memories for another time.

For seeing Admiral Vrehnke now, in the flesh, Cody had to fight down the urge not to draw his weapon and kill him outright.

Instead, he forced himself to trust in Au-Trava's plan. The Austenien was much better versed in how to defend against an enemy in the desert wilderness.

The two front squads of droids split off to the left and right, and it was clear they were planning to encircle the clones.

A piercing, high-pitch shrieking sound suddenly rose in the air.

It was Au-Trava, and it was a wail the likes of which none of the clones had ever heard. Yet, he had warned them to be ready for it. They knew it was their signal, and as instructed, they prepared to turn their Shempa and bolt.

But it was as if the animals already knew that such a sound signaled an urgent retreat, for before any of the clones could act, the ungainly beasts had already wheeled about and were running full-tilt across the desert, away from the droids and the ship.

And Au-Trava had not been exaggerating when he said they could move quickly under the right circumstances. Cody had been so caught by surprise that he was barely able to hold on.

The pounding of the animal beneath him, however, could not mask the shaking of the earth. The scarred and ugly land of the Swaig Flats began to form fissures that the Shempa dodged with uncanny agility. A shower of sand and caked dirt poured down from above. All hell was breaking loose. But that was what Au-Trava had said would happen.

Cody dared to steal a glance back over his shoulder.

Utter chaos had erupted behind him.

It was a Serpico, disturbed from its underground nest by the very particular call Au-Trava had employed.

The creature was massive. Its snake-like body was at least three meters across at its thickest, and there was no telling how long it was, coiled and roiling in the dust it had kicked up. Long spikes protruded from its top and sides, and they appeared to be trailing a blackish, tar-like liquid, in which battle droids were floundering.

In one violent movement, it had knocked the ship a hundred meters across the flats, and it still continued its frenzied attack.

Cody could not see Admiral Vrehnka, and he had no intention of waiting around to learn of his fate. He saw Au-Trava drawing up closer, gesturing forcefully to him.

"Do not look back! You will fall off! Just go!"

Cody knew he was right. He was half-off the animal already. He turned his attention forward once more and through nothing but sheer muscle, edged himself back into a more secure mount.

Their flight from danger went on for another five kilometers at least before Au-Trava held up his arm and reined his Shempa to a halt.

Cody, Three-Point, and Moog drew up beside him.

"Wow, you weren't kidding about those things!" Three-Point exclaimed.

"They are very sensitive to high-pitched sounds," Au-Trava noted. "And once roused, they can be—as you see—quite destructive."

"Are we safe here?" Moog asked, still looking back towards the cloud of sand and dust behind them.

"I think so," the brother replied, adding, "But it is better to err on the side of caution. Come, we have only a half-day's journey now to Heembab. The Shempa know we are close and they will be glad to move quickly. We will make no more stops."

"That sounds good to me," Cody nodded. "Rex and the others are probably wondering whether we made it or not. And it won't be long before the main Separatist ship sends down someone to find their Admiral. Or what's left of him."

"I hate to point this out, Commander," Moog began, sounding almost afraid to speak, as if his words might fulfill the possibility he was about to utter. "But there might be other Separatist ships out looking for us. What if they go to the Monastica?"

Cody had been thinking—and worrying—about the same thing, but he maintained a calm countenance. "Rex will know how to handle it."

"Meet me at the source spring an hour after sunrise."

Yes, that was what the Doma had told him last night as she'd left him at his quarters. He could have decided to go change into something dry and then go back to the festivities; but instead, he'd realized that he did not want to so soon forget the events that had just transpired. Going back to the pavilion—while it would mean seeing the Doma again—would also chase pleasant memories straight from his mind. And he wanted to indulge those memories, for he had no guarantee that any more would be in the offing. And so, he had politely announced that he would stay in for the rest of the night.

That was when Doma Maree had made her suggestion that they spend some time together the following day. Rex had agreed.

The spring. An hour after sunrise.

So, here he was.

But where was the Doma?

Rex began to consider that this might be another one of her tricks, another chance to "get even" with him. The idea did not offend him. In fact, he thought it might be interesting if that were the case.

He strolled about the spring, noting the formation of the rock, the wisps of steam rising from the water, the occasional bubble floating to the surface, and the almost tropical-looking trees surrounding the place. The source spring was not nearly as large as some of the pools along the line, but it was clearly the greatest source of water. Rex crouched down and dipped his hand in, pleasantly surprised at the comfortable temperature.

"Good morning, Captain."

Rex stood up quickly, turning to see Maree behind him.

"A precarious position, after last night, don't you think?" she said, and Rex did not know if she were teasing or threatening him.

He regarded her with a raised brow. "What, you mean us being out here together?"

"No, I mean you being so close to the water's edge, and me being able to sneak up behind you without you having any idea," she replied.

Now, Rex grinned. "I thought maybe you wanted to meet here so we could go for a real swim, both of us."

"Now, that would be inappropriate, especially as I just finished morning prayer," she replied, returning his smile and adding with a quip, "And far too tempting." She took a few steps back, and Rex followed her. "I only wanted to meet you here, because I knew you were familiar with this location, and it is an easy place to meet for where I really want to take you."

"Where's that?"

"Come with me and you'll see."

As they began walking north again along a narrow brush-lined path, Rex lamented that it was too tight for him to walk beside her, but that woe was soon put to rest when she turned and reached for his hand. "Keep up."

Rex recognized a ploy when he saw one – even in non-military environments.

It was clear that he could keep up with her – at least if they did not graduate from walking to running, and there was no chance of him wandering astray and losing his way.

No, the Doma had taken his hand because she wanted to. She wanted some form of contact with him; and being a religious sister, this was probably the most she could offer without risking the temptation of which she had spoken.

But Rex did not mind that this was the limit of her overtures. Or more accurately, while part of him desired the increased physical closeness of a progressing relationship, the greater part of him—the part that valued honor and decency above self-indulgence—was content that Maree gave him what she could in the way of friendship.

For friendship was the only possible outcome.

He knew that.

Damn it, he knew that!

But as his intellect waved that fact in front of his face, his heart was starting to suggest otherwise. And what made the situation all the more confusing was that it was the same heart that would never be easy with the idea of separating a holy woman from her vows; it was the same heart that told him relentlessly that his own path lay along the course of the Grand Army, that his first and greatest allegiance was to the Republic – although he could not deny it was slowly shifting from the lofty and complicated halls of government to the more direct and earthy pathways of General Skywalker.

"General Skywalker," Rex mused, as he continued on towards the surprise destination. "What would he think? He'd think I was getting distracted." It was a simple answer, one that Rex could use to bolster his own reconciliation with the inevitable—and likely not too distant—end of the burgeoning concupiscence of the past few days.

But it was also an answer that Rex did not necessarily believe to be true; in fact, there was a perfectly good chance that the general's advice would be far from condemning. The captain had begun lately to think that his Jedi General was hiding a great secret of his own, an attachment that went far beyond the injunctions imposed by the Jedi. He had no proof of his suspicions; only an observant eye and a penchant for noticing details that others might easily overlook. And he kept his thoughts on the matter to himself, not even floating them with Cody; for if Rex were right, and word ever got back to the Jedi Council, that could mean trouble for General Skywalker. And the last thing Rex wanted was a new general. He'd become spoiled working for Skywalker, and he felt no shame in acknowledging that fact.

"Here we are."

The Doma's voice shook Rex out of his own thoughts. He returned his attention to the moment and noticed that they had come to the end of the path where it emerged into a sort of open steppe. Directly in front of them, about thirty meters away, stood a stunning wood and sandstone structure. Palm-like trees grew sparsely around it, and a high stone wall could be seen in the back.

"What's this?" Rex asked.

"This is my residence," Maree replied.

"It's nice."

"Come. We'll go inside. They're expecting us," she said, starting across the brush-dotted desert garden.

"Who?" Rex asked, wondering what he was walking into and hoping it wasn't an attempt to proselytize him. For while he could respect the Doma's views, passing the morning being preached to was not his idea of how he wanted to spend time with her.

"My housekeepers," Maree replied. "They've prepared the morning meal for us. I thought you might like to join me." A pause. "And then we can go pay a visit to Kix. I believe he is now the only one still in the healing rooms."

Rex was almost ashamed of himself for thinking she might try convert him – but then again, she had threatened to do that very thing, even if she had been speaking in jest. Still, the smidgen of shame he felt melted quickly in the warmth of the innocent and thoughtful gesture of wanting to have him to her home for breakfast.

"That all sounds great," he accepted, noticing that she was still holding his hand.

And he liked it very much.

"Wonderful," Maree said joyfully. "I hope you're hungry. Sister Marsta is an excellent cook."

His comm-band was useless, damaged in the mayhem of the beast's attack.

The chaos had only ceased less than thirty minutes ago when the creature had slithered back underground; and who knew if it would resurface and rampage again?

Dushanak Vrehnka could hardly be called a coward; but he was also not a fool. The moment the ground had begun to shake, he'd fled. Not that he had been able to tell which direction, if any, was safe. He'd just ran and taken his chances. As it turned out, he'd taken the proper chance and run in the right direction. As his ship got knocked about and his droids were smashed or mired in the beast's trailing muck, he'd come away with nothing worse than a few cuts and bruises and a wrecked communicator.

He now trudged across the flats towards his a-keel ship, hoping that its comm systems were still intact. As he approached, several of his own Copian officers and crewmen were already coming out to meet him.

Seeing his flight officer, he demanded, "Dukna, status report!"

"Admiral, the ship is no longer flyable, but we have already contacted the Qrorinar, and they are sending a rescue shuttle," the dukna replied. The Qrorinar was the parent ship, the Dreadnaught.

"Good," Vrehnka huffed. "Now that we know they're here, I won't stop until we find them."

"Admiral, if they were headed to the city, it's going to make it very difficult to find them," the dukna pointed out.

"If I have to go door-to-door and kill every resident of that city, take my word, those clones will not escape me," came the chilling response – except that to a Copian, it was not so chilling. In fact, it was business as usual.

And Admiral Vrehnka meant every word of it.

"I have to say, that was delicious," Rex said, pushing back from the table and squashing the urge to pat his stomach in contentment. Instead, he sat ramrod straight—as he always did, unless injury prevented it—and breathed in long and deep, as if marking the conclusion of the meal.

"You have a healthy appetite," Maree noted, amused. "I've never seen anyone eat so much."

Rex took it in stride. "All due to Sister Marsta. She's quite a chef."

"Yes, she's very good. She's been cooking for me for—a very long time," the Doma replied, appearing to amend her choice of words mid-sentence.

But Rex did not notice. "So, how many servants do you have?"

"I do not consider them servants, Captain," Maree corrected. "They are members of my household staff, and they are all brothers and sisters. Marsta has two assistants in the kitchen. I have a housemaid, a craftsman, and my personal assistant, Nova Merika, whom you have already met. There are two gardeners."

"Well, it's all very nice," Rex stated, getting to his feet. The table where they had taken breakfast was on a small raised pavilion set just off the back of the residence. "Will you show me the garden?"

Doma Maree nodded as she rose from her chair. "Of course."

For the next hour, she took him through the garden, pointing out this flower or that beetle, this watering system and that fruit tree. And because Rex was admittedly an information glut, he soaked up every detail not only of the garden, but of his hostess.

Maree was tall, though not quite as tall as he was. When she walked, there was a fluid grace to her movements that Rex imagined was the result of many hours spent developing and refining the calm and holy persona that he had first seen in the examining room on the day of their arrival. Although he had initially viewed that smoothness as a sort of cool, superior detachment, he now recognized it for what it really was: the Doma took her task of discerning illness and injury very seriously, and she treated such situations with the sort of respect that such a profound gift merited.

She was so very different from the Jedi women he'd met.

Jedi women – and men, for that matter – were not holy. They were not pious. They were respectful, perhaps even reverential, of the Force and the power associated with it. They knew the power of the good, and they knew well enough to eschew the lure and ultimate destruction of the Dark Side.

But they were not holy. If they believed in a power or powers beyond the Force, Rex had never heard them speak of any such thing; but then again, he had no place in such discussions. They made him feel uncomfortable and out of his league. In fact, even discussion of the Force often put him on edge. The first time he'd seen a Jedi use the Force in battle, he'd been admittedly shaken to see such incredible power wielded by a simple sentient being. Now, he'd grown used to it, even grateful for it. But seeing it in action in the heat of a fight in order to save lives and gain victory – that was not the same as having a philosophical discussion about its origins and the tenets of its existence. Rex had avoided those discussions with the same vehemence with which he'd avoided women. There was simply no room in war for either one, despite his curiosity about both.

Until now.

And only because he was in a forced pause from the war. Once the pause was over, everything that had happened here, that was happening now, would fritter away just like the wind-blown sand.

He didn't like that thought. He didn't like it all.

He found himself staring at her and feeling admiration for the fact that, unlike the Jedi, she faithfully held onto the idea of a creator, a singular, all-powerful being who was active in her life and the lives of all creation. It was a belief he could never share with her, but that did not lessen his esteem for her.

And he did not want to forget her or the growing comfort of this oasis in the desert – a comfort he had only recently feared his men were growing too comfortable with!

In fact, being in the walled garden behind the Doma's residence, Rex felt he was in an oasis within an oasis, a place where he didn't have to worry about little children following, his brothers watching and assessing, the rest of the brothers and sisters wondering . . .

"And then we use these in the Muede Elixer. You had some when you first came in. It was the—Captain? Are you listening? Is something wrong?"

Doma Maree had turned and was now staring at him as he stared back.

"No, nothing's wrong," he said, trying to figure out what, if anything, he wanted to tell her.

She regarded him knowingly. "You are a terrible liar, Captain. I think you must be the most rule-bound, obedient soldier in the entire Army. I don't think you could pull off a deception if your life depended on it."

This charge lightened his spirits and returned his thoughts to the more pleasant moment at hand. "You can say that, but you'd be wrong. Just ask Echo and Fives about our inspection visit to the Rishi Moon. We ran into a lot of Separatist trouble, and I lied out my ass—sorry—I was very deceptive. But it worked. I guarantee you, my men will tell you that I'm not always good at, uh, following the rules."

"So, you break the rules."

"I follow my commanding general," Rex replied. "He's never led us wrong."

"Your Jedi General?"

"General Skywalker."

Maree nodded. "You've mentioned him a few times. I get the impression you think very highly of him."

"He's the greatest general in the GAR," Rex replied with conviction.

"That's high praise," Maree stated. "Coming from you, I think it must be true."

"I wish the Jedi Council saw it that way," came the cool reply.

Maree could hear the hint of disdain in his voice. "Do they not share your opinion of him?"

"They still haven't made him a member of the Council," Rex said. "I don't know why. I don't get involved in Jedi matters, but if they knew how his men felt about him, they'd treat him with more respect. Huh, if the 501st had a vote in it, every one of us would put him on the Council."

"How do you all feel about him?" she asked.

Rex took a moment before answering. He'd never been asked the question before. He'd always known how much he admired and respected General Skywalker; but to put into words what he'd always shown solely through his actions deserved some circumspection.

At last, he replied, "He cares about us. As clones, as soldiers, as men. We matter to him. He's always out in front. He's about as unorthodox as a man can be, but the only ones who seem to care about that are the Jedi Council. He does what's necessary to get the job done, and he doesn't look at his men as expendable." He actually felt good saying the words for someone else to hear, someone who was interested in listening, who had no preconceived ideas about who General Skywalker was. "He grieves with us when we lose a man. He visits the injured in the med-bays. He's even gone to the clone medical stations several times to see some of the more seriously injured." He paused. "He's tough on us. He demands a lot, but we're all willing to give everything we have for him, because we know he always has our backs."

"He sounds amazing," Maree said. "You're fortunate to have him. And I'm sure he realizes how fortunate he is to have you."

He was surprised when she reached up and caressed his cheek. He hadn't realized how much of his emotion had been seeping through as he'd explained his feelings towards his general. He usually did a rock-solid job of keeping his sensitivities well-hidden.

His instinctive response to such an intimate gesture was to bring his hands to her waist; and when he did so, she flummoxed him again by stretching up to place a kiss on his cheek.

As she drew back, she said, "Shall we go visit Kix?"

Rex didn't answer her question. Instead, he said with a beautiful, soft smile, "Well, you're the first woman I've ever kissed – or who's kissed me."

Maree winked. "Ah, well, a little peck like that hardly counts."

Rex was sincere. "It did, to me."

Maree was enchanted with his honesty and complete lack of wiles. But she knew the enchantment was almost over. The clones' rescue could not be far off now. "Will you offer me your arm again?"

"Of course," Rex replied, doing so.

As they began walking back towards the residence, the Doma continued the discussion. "I believe it may be possible, Captain, that one day after the war has ended, your general will give you your freedom, and you will find happiness in whatever form you seek."

"General Skywalker can't give me my freedom," Rex replied. "The Senate would have to vote to release us." A pause, and then he admitted, "Besides, I'm happy with things as they are, being in the 501st, serving under the general."

"That may be so, but would you really be content to go through the rest of your life with only that little kiss on the cheek?" she challenged.

Rex chuckled. "I didn't say that. But . . . when you're trying to stay alive, you're not thinking about those other things." He laughed a bit more as a thought came into his head. "If I did think about them, there might end up being a bunch of little Rexes running around. How's that for a scary thought?"

"Terrifying," she replied. "And wonderful. Rex."

Note: So, last time I said there was no romance. I guess I should have been a bit more precise. There's no sexual scenes, and after they leave Bertegad, the focus of the story moves in an entirely different direction and focuses just on the boys until the end.

Rex having no sexual experience. Well, I tried to explain this in an earlier chapter that the 501st guys are a bit elitist on one hand, and just too damned busy fighting, on the other. They consider themselves too good for a hookup, and war doesn't allow them to find and establish a relationship with too many honest, decent women. After all, Rex is, what 11 physical years old at the time of this story, and he's spent the first 10 years of his life on Kamino. When would he have had the time? Just suspend disbelief, please :-)

"Little Rexes running around." Yes, DIRECT rip-off from Watership Down. "Lots of little Bigwigs running around, Hazel! Think of that and tremble."

Lastly, next chapter, all hell breaks loose, and I'm having to do some serious editing. I was in such a hurry to write it the first time around way back when that it really reads like a piece of rubbish - all action and no thought. I know some folks like that kind of writing, but not me!