Dear Reader, Thank you all very much for the reviews: Ms CT-782, the Unnamed Guest, Guest, FreedomPhantom, Sued, LionTalon, and ts-animalgirl. That was just what I needed to get back on track! This chapter wraps up the Bly backstory. I also include direct quotes from the U.S. Soldier's Code.
Chapter 71 The Soldier's Code
"I am a member of my Nation's chosen soldiery, I serve quietly, not seeking recognition or accolades. My goal is to succeed in my mission - and live to succeed again."
U.S. Special Forces Creed
"Last. Dead last. Dead-fekking-last." CT-5576 groaned. "I don't believe it."
"Yeah. Not just last of the four teams in our race. Last of all eight teams," CT-9090 added. "How the hell did that happen?"
"It's like he wasn't even trying," 5576 replied. "Like he just wanted to get it over with."
CT-390 shook his head. "Yeah, so we went from being the team that ran on risk to the team that walks on eggshells. It's a complete turnaround. This isn't like Rex at all."
"He's been acting that way all day," 8448 noted. "Whatever happened in the commandant's office yesterday must have really put the dampers on him."
Echo team – minus their squad leader– was on their way back to their billets in the ARC lodging wing. They had just finished their retake of the TACON exercise, finishing an unimpressive last place with the slowest speed of all eight teams. No sooner had they returned to the hangar than their squad leader had taken off ahead of them, completely disinterested in any discussion of the second race. In fact, other than to give commands during the rerun, he had spoken hardly a word, offering only several oblique remarks about, "just getting it done."
"You think they threatened to kick him out?" 1550 queried.
"Not a chance," 2025 replied. "Not Rex."
"Then what happened?"
"I don't know, but I'm going to find out," 2025 said. Up ahead, he saw Commander Cody and several other trainees preceding them to the quarters. "I'll see you all at dinner. 5576, join me?"
The two of them caught up with the commander.
"Commander Cody, can we have a word with you?"
"Sure." Cody hung back to join them. "What's on your mind?" he asked, even though he already had a very good idea of what was on their minds.
"Do you know what's up with Rex? He was a completely different man when we ran the race today," 2025 said. "He wasn't even trying to win. He only wanted to finish, and he didn't care if we came in dead last. That's not like him."
"And he really didn't want anything to do with us," 5576 added. "He was upbeat when we finished – well, when they called the race yesterday. And then today, he's been acting as if he couldn't care less."
"Did something happen in the commandant's office yesterday?" 2025 asked.
Cody considered for a moment before answering. At length, he replied with a manufactured grin. "Well, we all got our asses chewed. And we deserved it. Give him a day. He'll get over it. By the time E&E starts, he'll be right back to his old self."
"I hope so. E&E is supposed to be brutal. We need him back," 2025 stated.
Cody nodded. "I wouldn't worry over it."
But as he parted ways with the two Echo Squad troopers and continued on towards the quarters, he found himself having difficulty following his own advice. The change in Rex was unmistakable, and he had to admit that he was somewhat surprised by it.
Rex had always seemed to stay aloft by virtue of his own buoyancy. He'd certainly not given the appearance of needing anyone – for moral or physical support. He'd been his own engine, his own fuel source, and his own guidance system. He'd bandied the rules about in the same way a Hutt bandied the truth. He had the artless charm of a Weequay pirate and the cunning to match.
And if CT-5576 was correct and Rex had been not in the least disturbed by the halting of the race yesterday – and in fact, had been in good spirits even after the commandant's dressing down—then it stood to reason that whatever had gotten under Rex's skin could be traced rather neatly back to Cody's reprimand and . . . er, less than orthodox method of getting through his roommate's thick skull.
If that were the case, then Cody would have to be the one to put things aright.
Fortunately, for Cody, he was good at putting things back together.
When the commander got back to the room, it was to find Rex taking off his armor.
"Well, you got out of there in a hurry," Cody stated.
"I didn't see any reason to stick around," Rex replied. "We completed the race. That was the goal."
"Yeah, a rather dismal performance on your part," Cody prodded.
"Maybe," Rex conceded disinterestedly. "But we didn't get disqualified. I played by the rules."
Cody leaned against the wall, a smirk on his face. "And that's the way you're going to play it from now on? The man who lives by the rules?" His tone rode just on the edge of sarcasm, making it difficult to figure out what kind of response he was looking for.
But Rex wasn't trying to discern the meaning behind the commander's words. He replied frankly and with a shadow of the ego that could not bear to be long-squelched. "Live by them or die by them. Those seem to be the only acceptable choices." A pause, and when he spoke again, his words betrayed the fact that he was not as indifferent as he was attempting to show himself. "I won't introduce anything new into the mix."
"It's too late for that," Cody stated. "You already have." His smirk stretched into an unforced grin. "For better or worse."
Rex set his armor on its stand. "You would say that. Non-committal, as always. Better. Worse. You can't decide."
Cody shook his head. "You know, you're making this awfully difficult."
"What?"
"I'm trying to apologize without being forced to eat too much crow," Cody replied.
"Apologize for what? For saying what was on your mind?"
"No," Cody averred. "I meant what I said, but I could probably have found a . . . nicer way to say it. And I shouldn't have decked you. Sorry 'bout that."
Rex turned, fixed him for a moment with a dismissively telling glare, then returned to his armor. "You're insulting me."
"Well, I didn't mean to be violent—"
"Oh, for fek's sake—" One of the rare foul utterances to come from the lieutenant. "—we're soldiers. And we're men. If we can't take a little tap like that, we shouldn't be on the battlefield."
This snide rejoinder, meant to return the insult in its own falsely subtle manner, was a step forward, much to Cody's relief. The fire might not be burning, but there was still an ember buried somewhere inside.
"Next time, I'll try to hit you a little harder," Cody jibed. He let a few seconds pass. "Where did you go last night?"
"Nowhere," came the stubbornly useless reply.
"Well, you must have gone somewhere. I looked all over for you."
"I left the compound," Rex answered.
Cody was somewhat surprised by this answer. "Where did you go?"
Rex sat down on the end of the bed and drew in a deep breath as he turned to regard his roommate with a meaningful expression – his first since last night's fiasco. "Someplace where I could feel free."
And Cody understood his meaning.
Understood it all too well.
"E&E report time is an hour from now. Why, by the moons of Hembred, would the commandant be calling us to his office now?" Cody wondered out loud.
It was late afternoon the following day. And while most of the clones were prepping for E&E departure to one of nine different land ranges, Cody and Rex had been summoned to Colonel Claw's office. Neither one of them knew why, and both men were anxiously puzzled.
When they arrived outside his office and found Commander Wolffe and CT-5052 both waiting in the hall, the mood among the four men soured palpably.
"Great. The four of us called in?" Wolffe growled. "We're getting kicked out. There's no other reason they'd call the four of us in together." He glared at Rex and CT-5052. "This is your fault. You two blew it for the rest of us and now—"
"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," Cody warned. "Let's wait and see what the commandant has to say."
A moment later, the door opened and Major Tides gestured for them to come inside.
Colonel Claw sat behind his desk. Commander Steed stood at his shoulder.
"Gentlemen, I'll make this quick," the commandant announced. "The four of you are very impressive. As individuals. As leaders of your squads. But an ARC trooper needs to be able to work wherever he's assigned, with whomever he's assigned to support. He needs to be able to adapt his own leadership style to fit the situation and the unit he's working with." A pause. "No matter whether he likes the job or the people he's supporting."
Cody felt his blood pressure rising. Maybe they really were being thrown out – and that would be a humiliation he could never live down. But what came out of the commandant's mouth next might have been an even worse prospect.
"With that in mind, since the four of you seem to . . . need an added incentive to work together, I've ordered a change in the E&E exercise."
"By the Force, he wouldn't . . . "
"You will all be together in the same squad. Pick one man from your own squads to go with you."
"Unbelievable!"
The commandant grinned in wily manner. "Make it a Shinie."
"But Sir," Wolffe protested, "What about our squads? They'll only be eight men—"
"They'll be fine minus two," Claw replied. "I think it's more important that some of you start to recognize that this isn't an army of one. Dismissed."
As they left the room, CT-5052 grumbled loud enough to be heard. "I would have rather just been dismissed from training."
In the silence of his thoughts, Rex agreed, "That makes two of us."
"Okay, boys! This is your drop-off point! You can use the mock wreckage for whatever supplies you want to take with you." These instructions came from the E&E team technical sergeant aboard the gunship that brought Indigo Squad – as the new makeshift grouping was named – to its starting point. "The exercise doesn't start until precisely at midnight. So, anything you do prior to that won't be monitored by the E&E team – only central control. There's no leaving the site until midnight. That's when the search and evasion phase begins. The rendez-vous/safe zone is thirty-five kilometers northeast. You'll find that information in the wreckage. You have four days to get there. After that, the scenario will be halted. Any questions?"
There were none.
The eight members of Indigo Squad jumped down from the gunship, and it soared up and away over the tree tops.
Rex took in his surroundings for several seconds before moving.
They were deep in a forest of tall, spindly trees with bushy crops of foliage near their tops which formed a sporadic canopy. In the waning glow of late evening, the angled rays of light stretched long and red and dust-filled through the trees, showing a healthy but not overwhelming undergrowth of prickly thickets and feather-like ferns waving even in the absence of wind.
About ten meters from where he stood was a "crashed" Nu-class attack shuttle. The supposition, of course, and the premise for the exercise was that the clones had crashed behind enemy lines and now had to make it to a safe zone, a rendez-vous point where they would be picked up by friendly forces.
They were permitted to carry their personal weapons – though these were the personal weapons provided by the cadre, permanently set to stun – but if an E&E team member was hit, he would be treated as if dead and prohibited from continuing to participate in the exercise.
Anything else – as the tech sergeant had said – would have to be salvaged from the ship, which naturally was resupplied for every exercise to mimic what they could reasonably expect the ship to contain.
The rest of the make-shift squad had already gone to the ship and were scavenging through the remains. Only Rex's Echo squad mate, Shinie CT-9218, hung back at his side.
"What do you make of it, Lieutenant?" 9218 asked. "Should we go take a look? Get some supplies?"
Before Rex answered, Cody called out, "This is a team effort. We need everyone's help."
Rex and 9218 joined them.
An hour of digging through the ship's contents produced some meager foodstuffs – mostly nutrient bars and water tablets, though there were a dozen ready pacs; three HOPOs; three scanners with navigational adaptors; foil blankets; extra charge packs for half a dozen weapons; and two hard-copy topographical maps.
"Well, this looks like plenty to get us underway," Wolffe stated. "But if we get split up, some of us might not have the gear needed to find the safe zone."
"I think we need to split up from the start," Cody proposed. "All eight of us moving together. That will be hard to keep hidden. We stand a better chance breaking into teams."
With a wary voice, Wolffe inquired, "How do you suggest we split up?"
"We can't go in pairs," Cody replied. "There aren't enough scanners. Three, three, and two."
Now, both Rex and 5052 were skeptical.
"The breakdown?" 5052 asked.
Cody knew his leadership was about to be put to the test. "Commander Wolffe will take two of the Shinies. I'll take the other two. And you two will go together."
"There's no way, Commander," 5052 protested right away. "I refuse to work with him."
Cody stepped up face-to-face. "You won't refuse to work with him. Let me be clear about this. The only reason—the only reason we've been put together like this in the first place is because of you and him. You're both the cause of this, and neither of you are about to dictate terms. Not to me, not to Commander Wolffe, and not to any of these other troops. You two either figure out your problems as a team, or you can fail on your own."
"There's no rank among ARC trainees," 5052 pointed out.
Cody took a step closer. "Wanna bet?"
CT-5052 backed down, mumbling something unintelligible as he turned away.
"Good," Cody said with a firm nod. Then to everyone, "The sun's going down and it's starting to cool off. There's a fire pit over there. CT-9218, CT-2876, get something going."
As the two Shinies took off to accomplish their mission and the others set about various tasks, Cody caught Rex's glance for a moment . . .
. . . and the look of disgust and doubt on his face.
The nice thing about armor—well, it was really the body suit and not the armor itself—was that it regulated body temperature. The intricate micro fibers that captured and held in or dissipated body heat would trip the solsatic molecules in the garment, cueing the release or capture of heat and thus maintain a safe body temperature. For a period of time, at least.
Owing to this marvel of engineering, there was really no need for a fire other than to hopefully keep any wild animals away.
And the fact that Cody enjoyed a good blaze, given his fond memories of a mission with General Kenobi to negotiate with a primitive tribe, the Gra'untaheh, on the outer rim planet of Simbul. His recollections of the general seated on a worn and smooth log on one side of the fire, working his diplomatic magic to bring about an agreement to stage a stealth recon team out of the tribe's ancestral lands – that fireside chat, an attempt to achieve what had seemed unattainable, had left a solid, positive image in Cody's mind; and he thought it might come in handy now, given the circumstances.
Since making his team assignments, he'd noticed without surprise that Rex and 5052 had not said a word to each other. They sat on opposite sides of the fire, as if trying to convince Cody by their own recalcitrance that his decision to pair them up was a mistake.
But Cody, despite Rex's accusations of indecisiveness, was most definitely decided on this one. And no amount of sulking was going to move him.
The sun had long gone down and darkness set in when Cody decided it was time to go over a few mission details.
"So, we know some of us are going to get caught," he began. "And some of us are going to end up going through ARC's version of captivity and torture. I think it's a good idea to review the code of conduct." A pause. "CT-1789, Article Three."
CT-1789, from Crimson Squad, answered readily. "If I am captured I will continue to resist by all means available. I will make every effort to escape and aid others to escape. I will accept neither parole nor special favors from the enemy."
"Excellent," Cody nodded approvingly. "CT-2303, Article Four."
CT-2303 was Commander's Wolffe's Shinie, and he got to his feet to give his answer. "If I become a prisoner of war, I will keep faith with my fellow prisoners. I will give no information or take part in any action which might be harmful to my comrades. If I am senior, I will take command. If not, I will obey the lawful orders of those appointed over me and will back them up in every way."
Cody looked to CT-9218. "Article Five."
"When questioned, should I become a prisoner of war, I am required to give name, rank, service and batch numbers. I will evade answering further questions to the utmost of my ability. I will make no oral or written statements disloyal to my country and its allies or harmful to their cause."
CT-2876, Cody's Shinie, was next with Article Six. "I will never forget that I am a soldier in the Grand Army of the Republic, fighting for freedom, responsible for my actions, and dedicated to the principles which make the galaxy free. I will trust in my fellow troopers and in the Republic."
Rex was actually proud of the Shinies.
"Rex . . . Article Two?"
Rex raised an eyebrow, surprised that Cody would call on him. But he had too much pride to act miffish. He got to his feet. "I will never surrender of my own free will. If in command, I will never surrender the members of my command while they still have the means to resist."
CT-5052 made a snide face, partly hidden, partly illuminated in the firelight.
"CT-5052. Article One."
CT-5052 regarded him with a defiant look, and it appeared for a moment that he might not answer. But at last, he spoke slowly and with biting words, never taking his eyes from the commander's.
"I am a soldier of the Republic, fighting in the forces which guard our galaxy and our way of life. I am prepared to give my life in their defense." He got to his feet. "And that is all a crock of osik."
"Lieutenant—" Cody began, but 5052 went on speaking.
"Only a fool willingly gives his life for someone else – a fool or—or someone who just wants to be called hero. I'm fekking sick of people pretending to be heroes!" Gesturing towards Rex, he seethed, "And him? He'll never surrender? He'll never surrender his troopers while they still have the means to resist? No, of course, he'll never surrender. He'd rather go out in a blaze of glory and take every damned one of his men with him. And then they'll call him a hero! And you put me with this bastard?"
It was such an unexpected outburst that Cody was too stunned for words for several seconds. When he did recover his voice, his first words were to the Shinies. He sent them off to patrol, ostensibly. It was clear he had other motivations.
No sooner had the Shinies moved off than Rex launched into an angry tirade.
"What the hell is wrong with you?! I haven't done a thing to you that should make you hate me this much! You've been badmouthing me since the first day of training! Why are you always trying to sink me?!"
CT-5052, instead of replying in kind, suddenly appeared to have the wind sucked out of his sails. He fell quiet and replied in a deflated voice. "I'm not trying to sink you."
"Then what? Why do you hate me so much? Why do you want me to fail?"
CT-5052 shook his head. "I don't want you to fail." After several seconds, he added reluctantly, "To own the truth, there's probably no one else I'd rather have beside me in a tight spot."
"Huh! That's not what you just said," Rex pointed out. "You made it clear that you wanted nothing to do with me, and that's okay, because I want nothing to do with you. Just—just tell me why you've been ragging on me from day one."
There was a long silence during which it was not clear what CT-5052 was going to do or say. It seemed just as likely that he would walk away as answer. When he did finally speak, it was not what any of them had expected.
Looking Rex in the eye, he asked in a perfectly neutral voice, "How many of your batchers are still alive?"
Rex drew back, perplexed. He hesitated then replied, "They were all alive when I left, and I hope they'll all be alive when I get back."
"And I'll bet they're all just like you," 5052 said in a mildly accusatory voice. "Overly confident, arrogant, larger-than-life, courageous." A pause. "Heroes."
"So, what's wrong with that?" Rex challenged. "That's the kind of man I want serving at my side."
CT-5052 turned away. "I knew a bunch of men just like that, just like you. The best men I ever knew." There was a tremor in his voice. "But when it came time to make a difficult decision, they chose . . . they chose to leave me behind. My batchers chose to leave me behind."
Rex, not a man with a great deal of sympathy or patience, showed little of either. "Look, whatever decision they made, you're still here, so it couldn't have been that bad."
Cody reached out and placed a subtle hand on Rex's arm to silence him.
"What happened on Ryloth?" the commander asked.
"Huh! I thought everyone already knew the story," 5052 said bitterly.
"We don't know your story."
"There's not much to tell," 5052 shrugged, still refusing to face them. "My platoon went in to evacuate as many of the Twi'leks as possible from the villages. The Separatists were advancing. The gunships couldn't get in for the last pickup, my platoon." A pause. "Everyone on the ground was killed."
Cody decided to go out on a limb. He'd promised himself he wouldn't do this, but under the circumstances, he thought this might be the only opportunity to open whatever doors 5052 had shut on the past. "But you were on the ground. I saw you running the scenario with Captain Dart. You said they left you behind, but . . . if they all died, how did you survive?"
CT-5052 now turned and stared at him in stunned silence for a long, agonizing moment.
At last, he said, "I wasn't on the ground." He swallowed. "I was air liaison for that mission. I was aboard the ship. My platoon leader—when my platoon leader—he called us off, ordered us to go back. He thought it was too dangerous, and we'd taken fire . . . " He raised his hands and rubbed his palms over his eyes as if the very telling of the tale was exhausting. "He sacrificed—they all sacrificed their lives so that we'd be safe. They—they never thought how I would feel to be the only one to survive . . . "
"Then . . . then why were you on the ground in the scenario?" Cody asked gently, and when he received no answer, he pressed, "Bly?"
CT-5052's head shot up. "Where did you hear that? No one calls me that anymore."
"Captain Dart does." A pause. "Why were you on the ground?"
"Because—because I wanted to know what it felt like to be the hero, to be the one who sacrifices everything to save one brother . . . fek . . . they didn't think they were leaving me behind. They thought they were saving me. And I hate them for it." His voice fell off miserably.
Cody waited for these words to sink in. "They did save you," he said quietly. "They cared enough not to want you to come into a hopeless situation. That's what brotherhood is about."
"I understand that," Bly groaned. "But don't you get it? They were everything to me. Now, they're gone. When you all leave here, you have something to go back to. I haven't had anything to go back to since the second month of the war." He looked at Rex. "That's why I hated you. You're just like them. You'd run any risk, take any chance . . . and I could tell . . . you'd give your own life if it meant saving your men. Saving even just one." He was losing his composure. "But when this is over, you have your men to go back to."
Rex was dumbfounded, speechless.
It was Cody who replied. "We all lose brothers. It's the nature of what we do. We're going to lose a lot more before the war is over. But your family isn't limited to your batchers. I know they hold a special place, but we're all your family. We're your squad now. And when we've all gone off to our own assignments, we'll still be your squad. We'll still be your family."
Wolffe stepped forward and placed a hand on Bly's shoulder. "Yep, one big mug-ugly family."
Rex nodded.
"And not all of us will be going back to our platoons after this," Cody reminded him. "A lot of ARCs get reassigned where they're needed. Coming to ARC training means accepting that fact."
"It doesn't make a difference to me where I go," Bly replied.
At this, Rex found his voice. "It does make a difference. You're going to be leading men. They're going to be your men. You can't short-change them because of what happened to your batchers. And you can't go on being angry at your batchers, either. You tarnish their memory and the sacrifice they made by resenting them for it. They thought you were worth it. Prove them right."
Bly did not look convinced, but he did not argue. He gave a minute nod.
Wolffe brought them back to the task at hand. "It's almost midnight."
Zero hour.
I originally had Gree in this scene as well, but not in the rewrite. You may recall this was alluded to in an earlier chapter while Rex was still on Bertegad at the Monastica.