Dear Reader, first thank you to my reviewers Ms CT-782, the Unnamed Guest, Freedom Phantom, Rohirrim Girl, Daniella, LLTC, and Christina TM. I truly appreciate your comments. Keeps me motivated! Now, I know everyone likes the torture chapters! LOL! Well, no torture here, but this is a long chapter that sort of launches the third part of the story. It summarizes the action on Kamino and proceeds on the understanding that most readers are familiar with the "ARC Trooper" episode. If not, you may want to watch it before you read this. From here on in, most chapters will be about Rex and Anakin or Rex and his troops, based on various episodes in the series that I want to highlight. But there will also be a lot of original material interspersed, including the happenings at the Monastica (as that comes into play in later chapters). Please understand that I want to work fairly quickly towards the climactic event, so there will be a lot of "time passes" synopses. And to the Unnamed Guest, you will get to see Rex's first meeting with Anakin (one of my favorite scenes) as a flashback in a later chapter. :-) Again, thanks to all for reading! Part III begins. Peace, CS
Chapter 77 Defending Home
"I vow to thee, my country, all earthly things above,
Entire and whole and perfect, the service of my love;
The love that asks no question, the love that stands the test,
That lays upon the altar the dearest and the best;
The love that never falters, the love that pays the price,
The love that makes undaunted the final sacrifice."
I Vow to Thee, My Country
Sir Cecil Spring Rice
"We're getting pushed back. I'm down to a single platoon. We need reinforcements."
Rex was used to hearing the urgent voices of battle. He was used to hearing fear, anger, desperation. Far less frequent were the voices of calm, of collectedness, of forced reserve under pressure.
Yet, he was not surprised to hear the latter coming from Commander Colt through his helmet comm. He had noticed in the lead-up to and preparations for this battle that his former ARC training squad mate had not changed in that respect. The consummate professional—poised, unflappable, in complete control of his emotions.
"Colt, it's Rex! Where are you?"
"We're holding a line in Passage 4, juncture 4E."
"I'm sending help," Rex stated, then he switched to his battalion's internal frequency. "Jesse, Denal. Each of you take your companies and go reinforce Commander Colt in Passage 4, juncture 4E. Make it fast. He's down to a single platoon."
The two men sent their acknowledgments.
Rex went back to the open frequency. "Colt, I've got two companies on the way. Hold on."
"Roger." And for what might have been the first time ever for Colt, the commander broke with radio protocol. "Thanks, Rex."
Rex turned to Cody. The two of them were in the command center, following the flow of battle with General Shaak Ti, the commanding general of Tipoca City; and already, it had been a peculiar attack. The general had noticed right away that the Separatist fleet was not as large as expected, only to discover that the reason for the anomaly was lying beneath the very waters surrounding them. What had appeared to be falling debris from ships destroyed in the space battle were, in fact, various parts of Trident assault craft. It hadn't been until General Kenobi had gone on an underwater reconnaissance that the deception had been discovered. But by then, it had been too late. The Tridents were already assembled and had started their attack. With their rotation drills, they had penetrated dozens of the pods and hangars, depositing thousands of droids.
General Kenobi had called for General Skywalker to return to the city, Skywalker having gone to support the air battle. Now that it had become clear that the true fight was planetside and not in space, Anakin was on his way back.
"General Shaak Ti! There's a report that General Grievous has landed on platform 7 Kilo," came a report from one of the clones busily monitoring communications. "He appears to be heading for the barracks."
"The barracks have all been evacuated," Shaak Ti stated. "The cadets are all in the lock-downs. We need to protect those lock-downs at all costs."
"We're going to need to scrape up some more manpower," Rex stated. "We need to put a blaster in the hand of every clone old enough to hold a weapon."
"We should send some men to each lock down to take charge and prepare the cadets for a fight in the event Grievous and his forces get through," Cody suggested.
"I agree," General Shaak Ti nodded. "Do it." She then turned her attention to the e-plexi plotting grid where members of her clone trooper staff were inputting battle movement.
Rex turned to Cody. "My battalion is spread out all over the place. I've got two companies in hangar 8, three companies protecting the growth towers, I just sent two to reinforce Colt, and there are still two on Delta platform. Havoc commandeered Fives and Echo as snipers. I sent Top on that recon to make sure the evacuation cells are still intact—"
"Rex, old boy, no time for a rundown on where every member of our units are," Cody interrupted politely. "We just need to find enough men to send them to the lock-downs. And then I think it'd be a good thing for us to get out there and take a look for ourselves how things are going."
"Right, right," Rex agreed. He opened the internal battalion frequency again. "Company commanders, report. I need a dozen men to meet me at Turbo shaft 5d, level 18."
Likewise, Cody sent out the word to his own 212th men.
Despite most of the companies being pinned down or fully engaged in combat, they were able to dispatch the requested number of men.
Upon their arrival at the meeting point, they were quickly briefed on the mission and sent on their ways.
"Great. Now that's done, let's go make a sweep of the barracks," Cody decided.
As they made their way through the empty corridors, the sounds of battle echoing from above and around them, Rex spoke his thoughts out loud. "Hardcase reported at least ten growth towers have been destroyed. That's thousands, maybe hundreds of thousands, of brothers."
"I know," Cody replied in a voice that belied his concern yet was a perfect example of how he managed his own feelings as the moment demanded. "If they breach the lock-downs, it could be hundreds of thousands more."
"Yeah, well, that's not going to happen," Rex said boldly. "We're going to beat them back. This is one Army that won't be defeated."
Cody gave a curt nod as he was once again reminded of why he held Rex in such high esteem.
Rules be damned. Victory was the goal.
"Captain Rex, this is Jesse."
"Rex here."
"Captain, we're running into a lot of resistance trying to get to Commander Colt's location. I'm not sure we're going to be able to get through."
"Keep trying," Rex ordered, fearing that it might already be too late.
Another voice broke in.
"Rex? Where are you?"
It was General Skywalker over the 501st closed channel.
"I'm still in Tipoca City, General—"
"I know that," Skywalker cut him off. "Where?"
"Level 5, enroute to the barracks. Commander Cody is with me. We're making a final sweep to see that everyone got to the lock downs."
"Good. I'm headed to protect the DNA chamber. As soon as you're done with your sweep, meet me there," Anakin commanded. "And keep an eye out: Grievous is here."
"Yes, General." Rex relayed the orders to Cody.
In a perfectly understandable way, Rex was always relieved and inspired whenever his general joined the ground battles that were Rex's specialty. General Skywalker, being one of the best—if not the best—pilot in the GAR, was often assigned to lead flying missions. Or more to the point, he chose to lead flying missions. It was not lost on Rex that his general would not have volunteered for so many fighter sorties if he had not had full and complete trust in Rex as his first-in-command. In many ways, it was a sign of great respect that General Skywalker had no qualms about letting Rex run the show on the many occasions of his own air- or spaceborne missions. Rex took it as a point of pride.
Yet, there was no denying that one of the most encouraging things Rex could ever hear on a battlefield was the voice of his general at his side. Or even his remote voice announcing over the comm that he had joined the battle. Rex had realized very early on that there was one Jedi who, in his estimation, stood branches above the others. No Jedi—not even General Kenobi, not even Master Yoda—could compare with General Skywalker, so deep and fast was Rex's devotion to him. And as far as Rex was concerned, it was a devotion well-earned.
"If they pulled General Skywalker out of the space battle, things must be looking grim down here," Cody remarked. "We'd better get a move—"
He cut off abruptly as a blaster bolt struck the wall beside him. Dropping into a one-shouldered roll, he came up behind the blast door bulkhead on the near side of the corridor while Rex took cover behind the far bulkhead.
"Right, well, I guess that's our cue to get out of here," Rex quipped. He jammed an elbow into the panel controlling the doors and as they began to slowly close, he squeezed off a few shots through the shrinking aperture. Just before turning to flee down the hall, he saw a fearsome image turn the corner at the end of the corridor on the other side of the blast doors.
General Grievous!
"We've got trouble," the captain announced. "It's Grievous."
"Well then, let's not wait around for him to cut through those doors," Cody said. "We need to get to the barracks!"
Before they had even reached the t-intersection at the end of the hallway, they could hear the unmistakable sound of a light saber cutting through metal.
They increased their speed, coming after a short jaunt, to the lift tube; but it took only one look to see that the lift was not working. The clear tube was blackened on the inside, as if a flash-fire had burst down the length of it. Even the floor and walls outside the chute opening were charred and melted.
"So much for that idea," Cody said in a sort of deadpan that Rex recognized as the commander's sense of gallows humor. "Looks like we're taking the access tunnel."
A second later they were descending the ladder in the narrow tunnel. The barracks were still twelve floors below them. As they reached the bottom, they heard the sound of the upper hatch through which they had just come opening. General Grievous's raspy voice reverberated down the tunnel.
"Ah, it looks like we are headed for the same place! Let's see who gets there first!"
Cody looked back inside the tunnel, craning his head upward to see Grievous draw in his spindly legs like a spider and start scrambling down the tunnel at an alarming rate. The commander backed out and started to pull the latch closed.
"Hold it, Commander," Rex said. "I've got a better idea. That lift shaft gave me an idea." He spun on his heel and went to one a series of panels running along the base of the wall. He pulled a panel open to reveal a series of hoses and conduits. One, marked with red warning icons, was what Rex was looking for. He began pulling more panels until he came upon a box into which the red hose fed. The box was also marked with a hazard icon.
Cody immediately knew what he was planning. "Glycanol? Are you insane?" Glycanol was one of the coolants used to maintain the climate in Tipoca City. In its light fluid form, it not dangerous unless it came into contact with a combustion source. The problem was that even the smallest electromagnetic ping was enough to ignite it. The purpose of the boxes along the length of the conduits through which it ran was to de-activate the molecularization caused by the friction of running through the hose.
"It'll stop him longer than just closing the hatch," Rex replied.
"And possibly blow us to smithereens at the same time," the commander pointed out.
"Dramatic, again," Rex chastised. "We'll put some distance between us before I ignite it. General Skywalker and I do this sort of thing all the time—"
"That's supposed to be make me feel better?" Cody humphed, but at the same time, he knelt down beside Rex and helped him start loosening the box. "If you take this box out, we could end up sending this whole place sky high. We'd be doing the Separatists job for them."
"I only need a few drops and then we'll put the box back," Rex assured him.
"Just don't make any sparks unscrewing the thing . . . fek and all, Rex, this is crazy," Cody said, but he didn't stop what he was doing. He closed the hose valve on his end. "What are you going to put the drops in?"
"Nothing," Rex replied. He slid the box out of the wall and took six very fast steps to the tunnel door. "Just going to pour it straight onto the floor."
Cody almost protested again, but what good would it do? They had both already committed to this course of action. And Rex appeared to know what he was doing . . .
Rex tipped the box sideways and waited until a handful of drops had fallen onto the floor in the tunnel. Then he quickly returned to Cody. "Get it in there fast," he said, fumbling with his own end. "Grievous is already halfway down the thing. Hurry!"
They got the box in much quicker than they'd gotten it out, reopened the valves, and took off down the hallway. At a hundred meters away, there was a storage room. Rex opened the door. "Get inside."
He turned and lowered his targeting site. Without a word, he fired one shot, just as Cody ducked into the room. Rex barely managed to get out of the firestorm as it tore down the hallway – and up the tunnel; and in fact, it was Cody whose quick actions had actually pulled him back just in time.
The commander kicked the door's control panel with his foot and the two men backed up against the far wall.
The sound outside the door was like a roaring, angry wind. They could see tongues of fire licking their way around the edges of the door. The door itself was beginning to glow and warp. The air was vibrating, alive with electricity and superheated particles. Even with the protection afforded by the armor, it was getting dangerously hot and difficult to breath.
And then it was over.
The rushing wind ceased. The fire withdrew. The heat abated.
Cody drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly.
Rex was apparently unmoved by how close they had come to being turned into ashes. "With any luck, that left him a little crispy."
Cody turned his head, and even with the visors between them, Rex knew exactly the expression that Cody was wearing under his helmet. It was that Cody-esque blend of disbelief and reluctant admiration. Rex knew it well. He'd seen it many times, and now he could discern it by just the tilt of the commander's head.
"I just hope we can get out of here," Cody said at last. "That explosion may have fused the door closed."
And, in fact, it had.
But again, Rex had a solution.
"We can go through the ductwork."
Cody was tempted to give into a bit of sarcasm and note that Rex always had an answer for everything. Except that it was the truth. Rex was always full of ideas, always thinking three, four, five steps ahead. The one and only time Cody had seen Rex at a loss had been in ARC training upon the conclusion of the torturous E&E exercise. And that once had been enough. Cody did not want to see or hear such uncertainty from Rex ever again. Rex was the strongman, the rock to which his soldiers looked to find their example.
That was the way it was and the way it should be.
And in some peculiar way, it made Cody proud.
"Lead the way."
The first block of barracks was empty. A good sign. That meant everyone had made it to the lock-downs.
Of course, the barracks were massive, and it would take two clones more than just a few minutes to check all of them.
"We should have brought more men," Rex stated.
"There were none to spare," Cody reminded him.
Rex grunted some manner of acknowledgment.
They continued their sweep in the eerie, red-lit silence. The barracks were usually a bustling place, and so the lack of activity was surreal and even somewhat disconcerting.
Suddenly, Cody reached out and put a hand on Rex's arm. "Stop. Do you hear that?"
Rex listened. He heard nothing, but a shadow of movement caught his eye. "Someone just went into that last block."
As they got closer, they could distinguish low voices.
"A Separatist victory means death . . . for all of us. The cadet is right. What are we going to do?"
"That sounds like 99," Cody whispered.
Rex was already rounding the corner. "We fight," he answered, removing his helmet, taking in the unlikely gaggle before him.
The voice had indeed belonged to 99; but with him were Echo and Fives. There was also a handful of cadets who looked to be about ten chronological years old. And while the youngsters did not appear frightened, the look of uncertainty was clear. They needed leadership, and Rex was only vaguely miffed at the fact that neither of the two newest members of the 501st seemed to have been providing it. And besides, hadn't they been loaned out to Commander Havoc as snipers? What were they doing here?
One of the cadets spoke out. "But our training's not finished."
Fives stepped forward and entreated enthusiastically, "Look around! We're one in the same. Same heart, same blood. Your training's in your blood. And my blood's boiling for a fight."
This was the sort of initiative Rex had come to associate with Echo, and he was pleased to see it on display, so long as the trooper did not overstep his boundaries as he had on Pylotta.
Echo, the more circumspect of the two, added, "This is our home. This is our war."
"What about weapons?" the cadet persisted.
Here, Ninety-Nine spoke out. "The armory. It's just a few corridors away, here in the barracks. I can retrieve all the firepower that we need." The gnarled maintenance clone gave a crooked smile. "So, who wants to blast some droids?"
Rex gave an approving nod.
"Have you seen any other cadets still in the barracks?" Cody asked.
"No, Sir," Echo replied. "It looks like they all made it to the lock-downs."
"Then that's where we should head, as well, after we hit the armory," the commander stated. "Those lock-downs may be our last stand."
"I don't think we can get to any of the lock-downs, Sir," Fives said. "As we were coming here, there was some kind of gas filling the access corridor. It seemed like there was a disruption in the coolant conduit. It smelled like Glycanol vapor. It's too risky to go that way: any friction and the whole corridor could go up in flames."
Cody and Rex exchanged silent glances that spoke volumes between the two of them. No wondering at the cause of the vapor.
"Then we'll have to hold the line here," Cody decided.
"There are droids on their way here, though," another cadet fretted. "We saw them."
"That's right, and General Grievous among them," Rex announced. "So, let's stop talking and start preparing. Echo, Fives, put together a plan to defend this run. The commander and I are going to check out the armory."
Anakin could sense her presence before even entering the DNA chamber.
Asaaj Ventress had an easily identifiable presence in the Force – a presence defined by a cool malice, a stark indifference to the value of life, an implacable thirst for an undefined vengeance. All of which, in Anakin's estimation, made her less of an opponent. The anger and amorphous disdain she had for everyone and everything clouded her judgment and tainted her ability to use the Force to its greatest potential.
Therefore, Anakin never feared a confrontation with her. She could present him with a good fight, but she would never be able to defeat him. The dark side of the Force in which she cloaked herself was no match for the light side. The great power wielded by the Sith was only so in their own minds, for even Count Dooku had met his match, if not in Anakin and Obiwan, then in Yoda.
Anakin firmly believed that there was nothing of use, nothing so alluring in the dark side as to tempt him; and he was certain nothing would change that belief.
"No droids in the hallway," he thought. "She's here alone."
At least that part, he understood. He often preferred to handle his assignments solo, as well. Having a padawan had made that difficult, but he had come to accept Ahsoka—more than accept, he had come to appreciate the opportunity to train and mold her into a Jedi. True, she got on his nerves more often than not, but she tended to deliver on her missions. She was a companion Anakin could tolerate and even enjoy, though her company was not quite on the same level as Obiwan's.
Obiwan was one of two people Anakin liked to have at his side on a mission. Yes, his master might be a bit overly cautious, overly bound by rules and protocol, and too willing to believe the best of people; but he always kept his head, evaluated a situation from all angles, and in a fight, he was brilliant. But Obiwan also had a tendency to overrule him, to discard some of his more creative ideas out of hand, to direct caution where bravery was needed. There were times when Anakin just wanted someone to agree with him, to help flesh out his own wild ideas, to have the boldness to take the risks others weren't willing to take.
And that someone was Rex.
As far as Anakin was concerned, Rex had no equal in the Grand Army. As a first-in-command, as a leader, as a follower . . . Rex was the ideal match. Anakin could not have asked for a better officer. Rex was bold, fearless, and insanely gifted when it came to thinking up new ways to outsmart the enemy. The men of the 501st viewed him with something approaching adulation. They would all give their lives for him, and Anakin had come to depend on him just as much as he had ever depended on Obiwan - or anyone else, for that matter.
It would not be an exaggeration to say that, through Rex, Anakin felt himself to be a part of the brotherhood that defined the clones. These men were more than troopers. They were individuals with names, widely varying personalities, and in the Force, each one of them was unique. Anakin did not see them as clones, and he did not see Rex as just any other officer.
He might deny publicly that what he felt towards his troopers was an attachment; but in the privacy of his own thoughts, he knew exactly what it was, especially where Rex was concerned. Yet, he felt that he was disciplined enough to handle any attachments he might form. He wasn't like other Jedi who feared their emotions and therefore kept them at arm's length. No, he embraced his emotions – both the positive and the negative. And with regard to Rex, it was all positive and had been almost from the beginning. Almost. But that was a recollection for another time.
Right now, Anakin was wondering how long it would be before his captain joined him. He raised his wrist comm. "Rex, what's your status?"
"I'm still in the barracks, General," came the reply. "We're going to try and hold off Grievous from getting to the lock-downs."
"Grievous is down there?"
"He was right behind us, Sir. We created an obstacle, and I don't know if he made it through."
"What kind of obstacle?"
"We set off a Glycanol explosion—"
"What?"
"A Glycanol explosion, Sir—"
"Did it work?"
"I'm not sure, Sir. If nothing else, it slowed him down, but I don't know if he's still alive," Rex replied.
"Is Cody still with you? I don't want you going up against him on your own," Anakin warned.
"Commander Cody is here. And Echo and Fives," came the reply. "We'll be alright, Sir." Then in true Rex style, he asked, "What about you, General? Do you still need me to come up there?"
Anakin could not help but smile to himself. Such brazen ego might be an annoyance to many commanders, especially Jedi commanders; but to Anakin, Rex's bravado was music to his ears. It seemed that the greater the odds, the more Rex rose to the occasion.
"You keep doing what you're doing," Anakin replied. "I think I can handle it."
"Copy that, Sir. Rex, out."
Anakin waved his hand past the door sensor, and it slid open.
Standing there at the DNA retrieval console with her back to him was Ventress.
Without turning to face him, she spoke in her dulcet, cloying voice. "I was beginning to think my presence went unnoticed."
"You weren't planning on leaving without saying hello, were you?" Anakin replied.
Ventress turned towards him and drew her double red sabers. The battle was on.
"Here it is! Everything we need is here," Ninety-Nine announced as he entered the armory with Rex and Cody.
"Excellent work, Ninety-Nine," Rex commended.
Grenades, droid poppers, blaster clips, all manner of rifles and hand guns . . . it was all there for the taking. They picked out blasters for the cadets, along with extra charger clips, and two backpacks filled with grenades, being that grenades usually ended in a more final result than droid poppers. A magnetically-stunned droid would reset itself within fifteen minutes and be back on the battlefield. A droid that was blasted to pieces . . . tended to stay that way.
Ten minutes later, their plan was set. Everyone was armed and in place. All that remained now was for Grievous and his droids to arrive, provided they had survived the explosion in the shaft.
"Listen," Echo said quietly. "I can hear movement in the hallway. They're coming."
"Remember the plan," Cody said calmly. "We need to lure them back into the sleeping towers."
There was one cadet with them, and Cody put his hand on the boy's shoulder. "As soon as we started firing, run back to the others and let them know we're coming. Remember: close every blast door behind you and lock them with the codes we set."
"Yes, Commander."
"We're counting on you."
"I won't let you down."
They took their positions behind the locked door that stood between them and the corridor. Less than thirty seconds later, there came a metallic wrap on the door and the tinny voice of a battle droid. "Open up."
The voice that followed was more sinister.
"Get those doors open and scare the remaining clones out of hiding."
General Grievous.
Rex grit his teeth. "We only delayed him a few minutes."
"Those were minutes we needed," Cody stated. "Let's show we made good use of them."
A blaster bolt took out the lock and the door slid open.
Onto a front of four clones.
The first line of droids went down, only to be replaced by second and third lines, but this had been expected. Now, as the droids advanced, Rex's party fell back, prompting the droids to follow.
"All too easy," Grievous said with both disdain and satisfaction.
"Define easy, General."
Grievous recognized the voice without having to see the speaker. "Kenobi," he sneered, turning to face him.
The two drew their light sabers, and yet another battle was joined.
If Echo had contemplated the fact that only days ago, he'd been wandering the pathways of a desert oasis, pondering the beauty and wonder of creation, he might have been struck with the incongruity of that scene in comparison with the situation in which he now found himself.
This battle was not just for his own life, but for the lives of millions of his brothers. In as much as the clones were viewed as the engine that drove the war machine, since meeting Rex, Echo had come to see his brothers as much more than brilliant duplicates of a magnificent original. Their DNA may contain everything needed to be the physical images of Jango Fett; but their minds, their personalities, their passions and aversions were as dissimilar as would be found among any population of non-clones.
They had value in and of themselves. Individual value that went beyond their roles as tools in an epic war. They might have been created to function solely as soldiers, and the call to arms might be a noble one; but not every clone was old enough or fit enough to fight. They were the ones who needed protection. And so, Echo did not see himself as fighting to protect the ability to create more clones; he was protecting those brothers already created and as yet unable to take up arms.
It did not occur to him that there were others fighting on his side who might have different reasons for taking up the defense of Kamino – namely, its production capacity.
No, that thought was not the sort of thing to enter Echo's mind, but it certainly occurred to Fives, although not in a negative sense. Fives saw nothing ignoble or distasteful in the preservation of the cloning facilities. In an enigmatic way, Fives was of the mind that his fellow clones were something very close to the pinnacle of creation. Millions of men churned out with only a miniscule fraction of them showing any kind of physical or mental flaw. Even the flawed—such as Ninety-Nine—were superior in so many ways to the naturally occurring populations throughout the galaxy.
As far as Fives was concerned, the Jedi had done a great thing in ordering the creation of the clone army. The only drawback, he often lamented, was that the bonds of brotherhood often stood too strong. The loss of his squad mates had not caught him by surprise, given a clone's life expectancy; but what did throw him off balance was his reaction to the loss. His perfectly balanced mind and perfectly honed reason had told him such losses were inevitable and that the rhythm of battle permitted no time for grieving – and, in fact, the clones had been engineered not to feel any sense of grief. That was supposed to be part of their template, part of their conditioning – the same sort of icy coldness that ran through Jango Fett's veins.
But then, the Kaminoans, being their own sort of frozen souls, had not noticed the one glint of humanity in Fett, the small opening through which they might have seen the man's deepest desire. Fett's request for one unaltered clone had struck them as odd, a peculiarity. The idea that Fett might raise such a clone as his son . . . why, it was beyond the Kaminoans' ability to grasp.
And because they had missed that jot of sentiment in the original, they had missed it in the creation of a template for millions of clone troopers. Instead of creating an army of simply bold and lethal combatants, they now had an army of bold, lethal combatants who also felt the range of human emotions and very often made those emotions clear to others, despite conditioning to the contrary.
A tumble of those emotions was going through Echo's mind as he raced along behind Fives towards the sleeping towers. Behind him were Commander Cody and Captain Rex—which struck him as odd, given his captain's usual penchant for being first—and this was the location of their last stand. If the droids got past them here, they would have an unobstructed route to the lock-downs . . . unless the Glycanol-infused air was detonated . . .
The droids had blown their way through the last of the blast doors and were hot on the clones' heels.
Echo and Fives scrambled behind a cluster of Brimbar storage crates, set in place earlier by the cadets and Ninety-Nine as part of their defensive plan. Cody and Rex took up positions past them, also behind makeshift crate barriers.
The locker alcove adjacent to Rex's cover was not empty. Ninety-Nine was waiting there with the backpacks full of grenades. Without the need for communication, he tossed one to the captain, as Cody, Echo and Fives drew back to the next set of crates. Leaping out, Rex flung the grenade against the front set of crates, forcing the droids to move towards the opposite wall.
"A little closer," he whispered. "Just come a little more . . . Cadets! Now!"
The sleeping tubes above the walkway opened behind the advancing droids. The armed cadets began firing. At the same time, Echo and Fives rose from behind their cover and showed themselves as the marksmen they had become in their time since joining the 501st.
Yet, with every droid they dropped, it seemed there were two to takes its place. The good news was that General Grievous had not advanced with them. The clones had no idea what had happened to him, but nor were they devoting much energy to wondering about it. They just took it as a stroke of good fortune and continued fighting their battle.
"Is there no end to these damned things?" Fives cursed.
"Just keep firing," Echo replied.
Fifteen minutes later, their situation was turning grave. In the sleeping tubes, the cadets were each down to their last clip. Echo and Fives were still well-armed, but even they could not hold out indefinitely against an unending swarm of droids.
In the alcove, Ninety-Nine tossed the single remaining grenade to Rex.
Rex passed it to Cody. "Last one, Commander. Make it count."
"I'll get more," Ninety-Nine volunteered, heading down the corridor with his lopsided gait.
"Ninety-Nine, you can't!" Rex protested. It was not a rebuff of the bent, old clone's abilities, for Rex would never devalue his contributions. It was the fact that the corridor behind them, the part that led back towards the arms room, was wide-open to attack.
Ninety-Nine ignored Rex's plea. "I'm a soldier! Like you!"
A soldier who had never been given his chance, never had the opportunity to show himself on the battlefield.
Here, the battle had come to him. This was his chance to fight alongside his brothers, to fulfill the role for which he'd been created. Any risk was worth taking to serve beside them, for if they failed, if the Separatists succeeded in destroying the cloning facility on Kamino and the clones still growing up there, if all of his brothers were lost to him, he himself wanted his last wisp of breath to be one of brotherhood, of friendship. He wanted to die in service to the men he had seen grow up, complete their training, and head off to war while he stayed behind.
And it could have been that Rex understood this on some level. He could have given Ninety-Nine an order to come back and take cover. He could have gone after him himself, knowing that Ninety-Nine could be easily caught and dragged to safety.
Or he could allow a man to take a chance, to decide his own actions. A moment of heroism on the battlefield.
A moment that ended too soon.
A blaster bolt caught the old man in the back of the knee, but even this did not stop him. He picked himself up and managed to continue on. But the next shots were lethal. Ninety-Nine fell to the floor and did not get back up.
Echo turned just as Ninety-Nine went down. Fives had already moved out from behind his cover and was unleashing a vengeful barrage against the droids. Echo was tempted to run to Ninety-Nine, but he knew the scenario would not allow it. He might end up dying the same way. He returned his attention to the approaching droids and joined Fives in returning fire.
"Commander Cody." General Shaak Ti's voice came over Cody's wrist comm.
"Yes, Sir!"
"The droids have been pushed back to the main hangar."
"Copy that, General; but we've still got our hands full down here," Cody replied. Even as he spoke, he peered around the crates to assess the number of enemy still facing him. It was then that he noticed no more droids were rounding the far corner. The only droids remaining were the three dozen or so already in the corridor. "Wait! It looks like their numbers are decreasing."
"Do you need reinforcements?" Shaak Ti asked.
"No, General. I think we can finish this up ourselves." He looked to Rex who nodded.
"And we're going to make it quick," the captain added.
Up on the outer ring walk above one of the landing platforms, Sempe almost leaped out of his skin at the sight of the Trident smashing down onto the pad below. He'd seen the shoulder-launch missile come in, and he'd shouted a warning through his helmet comm, for there were dozens of men from the 501st on the pad. He now watched with baited breath, waiting for the smoke and debris to clear, hoping his battalion mates had managed to get out of the way. Instead, what he saw emerging from the chaos were two red flashing lines, followed in short order by a single blue line.
Light sabers!
"Look! It's the general!" Sempe shouted.
The troopers down on the platform had also seen Skywalker's arrival in pursuit of Ventress; and now they were converging to back up their commanding officer.
Anakin was furious with himself for having let Ventress get this far with the DNA capsule. He'd underestimated how much she had grown in her use of the Force. Yet, he was still comfortable in his belief that she was no match for him. Let her swing her double sabers; they were nothing against his single blade. Let her leap and somersault and twirl. His own brute force would overpower her finesse. He parried a series of undisciplined cuts before pushing her to the ground. He held out his hand, Force-retrieved the capsule from where it hung on her belt, and was about to savor the victory when she rose up against him with a wild, unhinged rage, using her own formidable physical strength to force him into a retreat. Now, it was his turn to go down, the capsule jarring loose from his hand and skittering across the platform.
Ventress reached out her hand.
The capsule flew through the air . . .
. . . straight into the intercepting hand of a clone.
March, to be precise. And quite to his own surprise. He'd just climbed over the arm of the destroyed Trident, his only intention being to offer assistance to his general, if needed – for when did General Skywalker ever need assistance? But he'd found himself in the right place at the right time. All he'd had to do was reach out his hand. Now, he held the future of the Grand Army in that hand, the basis for millions of lives already created and millions yet to come. And a crazy woman was eyeing him in such a way that he was sure he was about to have his guts torn out.
That is, until General Skywalker got to his feet and took up a protective stance. There was no way he was going to let Ventress anywhere near the capsule or the trooper holding it. More clones arrayed themselves near March.
Ventress was clearly outnumbered. "I suppose you expect me to surrender."
Anakin took a couple menacing steps forward. "Actually, I plan to let the clones execute you. Right now." It was not merely a threat of death. There was a more profound meaning to it, and every clone knew it. The general was not going to be the one to kill her; he would leave that to the men whose home Ventress had dared to attack. This was their vengeance to take.
Ventress smiled wickedly. "Not this time." She force-pushed them back, and in that instant, a spherical ship zipped across the platform behind her. It was Grievous's getaway ship, for he, too, had been defeated and forced to retreat. Assuming, though, that Ventress had obtained the DNA, he had not seen any reason to stick around for a continuance of his battle with General Kenobi. And it was not an assumption made without basis: Ventress had contacted him earlier, as she'd fled from Skywalker, to tell him she had the capsule and was headed for the platform, that he should meet her there.
Now, as they sped away towards the safety of their waiting fleet, Grievous did not dally. "Do you have the DNA assassin? Perhaps you should give it to me for safe-keeping."
Ventress wanted nothing more at that moment than to run her blade through what little organic material still comprised Grievous's being.
"I don't have it."
"You said you had it."
"I did," she said in steely voice. "I lost it while battling with Skywalker."
Grievous gave a laugh of expectant disdain. "I knew you would fail. Count Dooku will not be happy when he hears about your incompetence."
Now, it was Ventress's turn to smile. "Yes, and I'm sure that, as the mission commander, you will receive your own fair share of the blame."
Grievous was silent for a moment as he realized she had bested him on this one. The dark apprentice was right – the Count would be disappointed with both of them. It might be better if they presented a united front.
"We could make sure the facts are . . . tilted in our direction," he suggested.
Ventress smirked at his back. He was such a fool, and she despised him for it. But more than that, she despised that circumstances at the moment were forcing them to collaborate.
"Yes, we could."
For Rex, stoicism was his natural reaction to tragedy. All clones were conditioned to view death at arm's length with the perspective of clinical observation. But given the history of his emotional exuberance in the earliest days of the war, Rex had worked hard to master himself and maintain an even temperament under all circumstances.
That was why the image of Echo cradling the dead Ninety-Nine in his arms fascinated and moved him. Echo, a man with no compunction about airing out his emotions for all to see, was able to do those things that Rex felt inside but could never show – not because it was unfitting, but because he feared it. He feared that the display of unbridled emotion could lead to other expositions that would be unfitting.
"We lost a true soldier," Cody mourned.
Rex placed a hand on his shoulder. "He truly was one of us."
Rex's wrist comm buzzed. "Rex, report. Are you alright?"
"Yes, General," Rex replied. "The droids have been defeated down here." He did not mention the loss of Ninety-Nine. He felt certain that General Skywalker did not even know the name, much less the man. And that was okay. Ninety-Nine was part of life on Kamino, a brother who had really belonged only to his fellow clones, and gladly so.
"Make your way back up to platform A3," Anakin said. "We need to help out with the damage assessment and get a casualty report."
"Yes, Sir, on my way," Rex acknowledged, then to Echo and Fives, "You two wait here until the casualty teams come through. Keep an eye on the cadets, too."
"Yes, Captain," Fives answered.
Rex turned to Cody. "I'm headed back up. General Skywalker needs me. You coming?"
Cody nodded. "Yeah."
They left the barracks and began making their way back to the upper platforms, passing through corridors littered with dead droids and dead clones. There were no injured. Only dead. There were no markings on the clones' armor; and that sent a chill through Rex's bones for that meant that these were either Shinies or cadets, and they had fought to the last man.
"How many brothers do you think we lost today?" Rex asked in an almost wary voice.
"It's better not to think about it," Cody replied bluntly. "Instead, ask yourself why they called off their attack."
"Because we were taking them apart," Rex said with a bit of angry bravado.
"If they had truly wanted to destroy Tipoca City and the cloning facilities, they would have sent a lot more droids than they did," Cody posed. "They would have pressed their air attack instead of focusing on a ground assault. It may have been a tough battle, but it wasn't a battle they were trying to win."
"Now, that's ridiculous," Rex protested. "Why else would they come here?"
"General Skywalker was headed to the DNA chamber," Cody said. "He was trying to protect our DNA, our template's DNA."
"You think they came here to steal our DNA?"
"It would make sense," Cody opined. "If they have our DNA, they can engineer all kinds of biological weapons that would affect only us clones."
Rex was stunned by this idea. "You're right," he breathed, feeling suddenly confined and restricted. He took off his helmet, balancing it on his hip as he walked.
"So, they may have withdrawn from the fight because they got what they came for," Cody proposed.
Rex scowled. "General Skywalker wouldn't have let that happen."
They rounded a corner onto yet another grisly scene. It set Rex to wondering how many of his men had been lost up on the landing platforms. A number of them had been placed under the operational control of the ARC officers, so that made Rex feel a little better about not having been there himself to lead them. He had great faith in his company commanders, but he could not squelch the sense of dread as he contemplated what the dead and injured count might be.
As his gaze went from one dead trooper to the next, he felt something cold descending within him. It was the veil coming down, the forced detachment that prevented him from being overwhelmed by the staggering loss of life incurred in almost every battle.
"Rex."
He felt Cody's hand on his arm. The commander had stopped walking.
Rex glanced at him then followed his gaze down the corridor.
For a moment, it felt as if his heart has stopped beating.
"Colt . . . Colt!" He ran the intervening thirty meters, stopping abruptly short of the ARC trooper's body. He crouched down slowly, but he could already tell from the awkward positioning and half-closed, vacant eyes that his friend was dead. "Oh no . . . no," he moaned, doing his utmost to maintain his composure, for this was not a just death. Of all the men Rex had gone through ARC training with, Colt—CT-2025—had been the most honorable, Cody notwithstanding. He had shown himself repeatedly to be selfless and devoted to the brotherhood. His tenure as a member of the ARC cadre had been marked by distinction, resulting in his promotion and assignment as commander of the Rancor Battalion, one of the ARC program's operational training units.
He had been a good, decent man. A courageous man. A man who probably deserved to outlive them all. Death had come too soon.
And on the blade of a light saber. Rex could see the clean lines where the blade had entered and exited. At least, it appeared to have been a quick death, but that was little consolation. The veil that descended in Rex's heart began to fray. His emotions were pushing their way through . . .
"You okay?" Cody's hand on his shoulder accompanied the inquiry.
Rex shook his head. "Why Colt? He didn't deserve this."
Cody, knowing Rex as he did, gave a response that would go a good way towards healing. "It's what he would have wanted: dying in battle to defend his brothers and his home."
After a long silence, Rex spoke quietly. "He was better than me in so many ways. He was always that calm voice of reason. Like you." A pause. "You know, he really was a lot like you."
"That's because it's like Fives said back in the barracks: the same blood that flowed in his veins flows in mine. We're all connected that way," Cody replied. "He was good for you back in ARC training. Now, he's done his part. You have to keep doing yours. It's the best way to honor his memory."
Rex straightened up. "Killing whoever did this to him will be the best way to honor his memory."
Cody did not argue. There was much of General Skywalker in that statement, and the commander knew better than to try and overcome the emotional pique of the moment. Instead, he simply said, "As the war goes on, you may get your chance."
Hopefully, you remember Sempe and March from part I - two of Rex's troopers in the 501st. It's fun to take the nameless clones from the episodes and turn them into characters from the story! And don't worry about Echo and Fives' being named ARC troopers. It's coming!