Dear Reader, A final chapter to close out the Kettrun mini-arc. I hope you enjoy! Peace, CS
Chapter 85 The Decision
"The day we meet again, I'll be waiting there for you,
where the mist of time is lifting, see it rising in the air,
like the shadow I was chasing, when I looked, it wasn't there."
The Day We Meet Again
Justin Hayward
Anakin almost felt embarrassed when he saw Rex approaching with Jedi Master Shyfa.
His first-in-command looked brilliant as always: composed, professional, energetic, up for anything.
Not that Anakin was fooled for one moment that Rex would ever show him any face other than the one he was now seeing. Rex had made it a point of pride never to give in to any semblance of weakness. He would always rise to the occasion, ready to fulfill his general's expectations and then some.
And so to see him striding briskly across the hangar floor, ramrod straight, amber eyes alert and confident – this was nothing new to Anakin. This was the Rex he knew, a man who could hold himself high after a terribly botched mission—though through no fault of his own—a man who had an uncanny ability to move from one battle to the next without dwelling on the past. Even among clones, Rex was remarkable in this capacity.
All these attributes . . . seeing them so prominently on display, Anakin began to wonder if perhaps his fear had been unfounded after all. In fact, looking at him now, there was not even the slightest hint of misgiving.
"Master Skywalker," Shyfa greeted him with as much pleasantness as the situation would allow.
Anakin actually inclined his head in deference to Shyfa's seniority as a Jedi. "Master Shyfa. It's good to see you." He looked at his first-in-command. "You, too, Rex."
"Sir." Rex's expression belied his bewilderment at his general's visit – an expression which Anakin ignored for the moment.
They began walking back across the hangar.
"I can't thank you enough for the use of your men," Shyfa began. "I can see you spared nothing in giving us your best."
"I'm sorry the mission didn't turn out the way you'd planned," Anakin replied.
"It was . . . half successful." A pause. "Though I feel the cost was too high."
"Well, you know what my thoughts were. I wanted to blow the place from out in orbit," Anakin pointed out, adding, "Good thing I was overruled. Igniting the rhydonium would have been a disaster."
"Mm. The disaster was not even knowing there was rhydonium on site," Shyfa came back. "How could such a detail be missed?"
"Intel isn't a perfect science," Anakin replied.
"You're right," Shyfa agreed. "But if we hope to win this war, we will have to get better with ours." A pause. "Your men were superb. Despite the rhydonium, they still managed to destroy most of the base. The 808th helped clean up what was left, including the rhydonium. It's being transferred to a facility . . . it will be made inert. But according to your men, some of it was taken out by ship prior to us getting there."
"That's a scary thought," Anakin noted.
"Indeed."
Several seconds passed in silence, then Shyfa spoke again. "I take it you would like to see your men."
"That's why I'm here."
"I think I can turn you over to Captain Rex. He can show you to them."
"Thank you, Master Shyfa," Anakin said. "And again . . . I'm sorry about the 808th."
Shyfa nodded, then to Rex, "Remember our conversation. I will see you before you leave."
Anakin waited until Shyfa had moved a good distance ahead of them before asking, "What was that about?"
As much as Rex would have preferred to defer conversation of this topic, he dared not put off his commanding general, especially given his respect for him. He drew in a deep breath and went straight to the point. "Captain Snap was killed in the assault. General Shyfa would like Top to replace him."
Right away Anakin understood the dilemma.
"I see," he said quietly, adding after several seconds' contemplation, "What does Top think about it?"
"I haven't spoken to him yet," Rex replied. "General Shyfa wanted to get my approval first before he put in the request."
Anakin could hear in his captain's voice the difficulty this was causing him.
"Even if you decline, it will still be up to GAR Headquarters to fill the vacancy," Anakin pointed out. "Top could be reassigned anyway."
"Yes, but it's much less likely when they have a huge pool to choose from," Rex replied. A sigh. "Still, I haven't decided yet whether to agree or not. I have to talk to Top first. This is really his decision."
"Do you honestly think he'd be able to tear himself away from his squad?" Anakin posed. "I'm surprised he managed to be without them for the six weeks of ARC training."
"That is my main concern, Sir," came the reply. They exited the hangar for the corridor. "He'd make a great first-in-command. They'd be hard-pressed to find anyone better, but . . . can he do it without them?" A pause. "Or maybe the more appropriate question is, can they do it without him?"
Anakin nodded his understanding. "When did General Shyfa need a decision?"
"Before we leave," Rex answered. "And I guess our departure would be up to you, General." The captain regarded him curiously for a moment. "May I ask, Sir, what made you decide to come here?"
"I wanted to see how you all were doing," Anakin replied. "I was ready to assist, if needed." A shrug. "It was all over by the time I got here."
Rex found this to be a flimsy explanation, and so he merely gave a nod of acknowledgment that Anakin recognized right away as an expression of doubt.
"I know that look, Rex," Anakin stated. "You don't believe me? Why else would I have come here?"
"You've sent different elements of the battalion off on separate missions many times, General. I don't recall you going after us on any of those missions. I was just curious about what made this one different," Rex replied honestly.
"Maybe it's because I was on leave and had the spare time," Anakin replied with a subtle poking grin, knowing all along that he could never tell Rex the real reason he had seen fit to come after him.
Rex, in a moment of cockiness—the sort of moment he knew he could occasionally get away with—replied in a magnanimous manner, "I guess I can accept that explanation."
Anakin was reminded of just why he placed such high stock in his first-in-command. "Good. So, I think you'd better go have that talk with Top. And Rex, I'm sure I don't need to tell you this, but . . . if he goes, the rest of the squad isn't going with him. I can't afford to lose all of them at once."
"Understood, Sir."
"And tell your men, we're departing at 1900 tomorrow. Your mission here is done."
"It was just one mistake after another, Jesse. I'm surprised we weren't all killed. It's a good thing you weren't here to see it." Hardcase was his usual animated self, full of histrionics, overblown gestures, and bluster to make anyone within earshot perk up and listen. As it turned out, the only people nearby to hear him were his squad mates.
The four physically present members of Saber Squad were in one of the Portica's two recreational holo-transmission stations. On the other end of their communication was Jesse, listening to the story of the disastrous mission, although the way Hardcase told it, it sounded more like an adventure tale.
"They weren't really mistakes," Pitch pointed out. "Intel just missed one very crucial piece of information."
"Yes, one crucial piece that could have blown half the planet sky-high—" Hardcase began.
"You're exaggerating, as usual," Pitch interjected.
"I'm just glad everyone made it," Jesse said. "How's Commander Cody?"
"Okay. They gave him two weeks' convalescence," Top replied. "Huh, like he's going to obey that."
"Like you're going to obey yours?" Kix prodded with a smile.
"Oh, he'll obey it," Jesse said assuredly. "Won't you, Top?"
"I don't think I have a choice," came the reply. "The muscle has to heal. I'll have to keep quiet."
Jessie turned his expectant gaze to the other three. "So he says. Make sure he keeps his word."
At this, Hardcase let out a short bark of laughter. "Huh! As if any of us have any sway over him."
This made Jessie smile. "Well then, Kix, pull your medic credentials on him."
Kix returned the grin. "I'll keep an eye on him."
At that moment, the door to the transmission station opened, admitting their captain.
They all got immediately to their feet.
"Carry on," Rex said, then to Jessie, "How are things on Coruscant?"
"There's been a bit of excitement in the Senate, Sir; but nothing that really involved us. Nothing worth reporting right now," Jessie replied.
Rex nodded. "Very good." A pause. "Top, I'd like a word with you."
Top followed his captain out of the room, casting a "what did I do now?" glance at his brothers. Yet, as he entered the corridor, he could not think of anything he'd done wrong on this mission, other than show his obstinance—and unorthodoxy—to Commander Ki'weya.
Hmmm . . . maybe he had been the tiniest bit disobedient . . .
"You know I don't like to waste time," Rex began directly as they walked. "So, I'm going to come straight to the point. General Shyfa wants you to take over for Captain Snap. He wants you to be the 808th's new first-in-command."
A long silence ensued as the two men continued down the corridor.
At last, Top said, "I didn't think there was anything left of the 808th. Not much, at least."
"They've got less than thirty percent of their manpower remaining," Rex replied. "But they're going to reconstitute the battalion, and General Shyfa told me personally he would like you to come on board."
Top chuckled slightly. "He might want to run that by his padawan. I don't think Commander Ki'weya would be too keen on me being assigned to any unit he's a part of."
"Actually, it was Commander Ki'weya who suggested you to General Shyfa," Rex informed him. "Apparently, you impressed him, and I imagine that's a hard thing to do." A pause. "Of course, you'd have to ask yourself if you think you can work with someone like Ki'weya."
"One consideration among many," Top replied. Several more seconds passed in silence. "When do you need an answer?"
"We're leaving tomorrow at 1900. General Skywalker is here. I think he wants us back before 6th Army gets any more ideas." It was a feeble attempt at humor, but it did not last, for the look on his face was one of seriousness. "But for right now, there's only one idea . . . one officer. And the decision is yours to make."
"Not exactly the kind of decision I ever thought I'd be making," Top admitted. "I always thought it'd be the army telling me where to go, and I'd just do it. I didn't think I'd have a choice."
"Most don't get a choice," Rex replied. "But General Shyfa won't force your reassignment. He only wants you to come to the 808th if that's what you want, too."
Top was thoughtful. "It'd be a difficult job, putting them back together after all they've been through."
Rex's own thoughts went back to the Battle of Teth and the decimation of the 501st . . . the first such horrific loss of life under his command. He knew well how it felt to try and pull together the last strands of a once-strong fabric. But he knew it could be done . . .
. . . with the right man at the helm.
"Yes, it would," Rex confirmed. "Pulling something out of the ashes is one of the hardest jobs a clone commander can ever have." A pause. "And it's a job you were cut out for." Seeing the questioning expression Top now turned towards him, he went on. "Top, you're a natural leader. You don't even have to work for it. You can inspire anyone to believe in you, to follow you. That's what the 808th is going to need more than anything now." He gave a slight grin. "They need the bravado and the . . . exaggerated spirit that no one does better than you. They need someone to build up the ones remaining and . . . blend in the new ones coming on board. Top, you're smart, you're one of the best soldiers there is, and to be honest, you should have been assigned a command straight out of ARC training. You're being given a completely broken battalion, but . . . putting things back together is something you've shown yourself to be the best at."
"It sounds like you think I should accept the position," Top ventured.
"That's your decision," Rex insisted, "But if you're asking my opinion, then yes, I think you should accept it. They're going to need someone like you." A pause. "If you think you can tolerate Commander Ki'weya, then . . . yes, I think you should take it."
"And, uh . . . I guess the rest of Saber Squad would stay here?" There was a sad expectancy in Top's voice.
"Yes," Rex replied. "I couldn't let the whole squad be reassigned. Top, it will be hard enough to see you go. The others will stay here."
Top nodded slowly. "I'll have an answer for you by morning, Captain." He added hastily, "And please, Sir, don't say anything about this to the rest of the squad. I don't want them trying to influence me."
"You have my word."
Denal grimaced.
For crying out loud . . .
This was his fourth trip to the holo-transmission stations in the last hour, and both were still occupied. At least the occupants of station one had changed a few times. The occupants of station two . . .
. . . well, what could be expected from Saber Squad? The five of them were as tight as a Pesirisher cork screw.
Not that Saber Squad had a premium on brotherly connection. Denal would put his own manner of devotion up against theirs any time. And, in his own estimation, his bond was all the greater because the brother to whom he felt the closest was not a squad mate, not a batcher, not even a pod mate.
Denal, having been one of those exceptional cadets for whom grand opportunities seemingly opened up without effort, had been assigned to the Escape and Evasion School directly from the cadet corps. He'd been the only one among his entire pod – his entire 40,000-man group—to be chosen for such a prestigious position. He'd taken great pride in his assignment and almost immediately formed the sort of brotherly bond that was necessary to excel in such a competitive environment.
But it wasn't until CT-611 was assigned as Denal's sideman that a feeling of family had actually begun to take hold. CT-611 had come from the front lines – a combat artillery unit – and he had brought with him all the sense of camaraderie and male bonding that such units possessed in abundance. In the world of E&E, he'd needed the guidance of an older brother figure, someone to help him navigate through the bizarre emotions wrought by the necessity to rough house his own genetic equals.
They'd been together when then-Lieutenant Rex had come through the school; they'd been his escorts to and from torture, and the ultimate springboard behind the termination of the brutal Captain Skidz. When the newly minted Captain Rex had requested their reassignment to the 501st, both men had jumped at the opportunity. And based on an incident that had occurred on their very first day as members of the 501st, the captain had fittingly bestowed the name of "Back Up" upon CT-611 – a name which had been cause for embarrassment at first but later came to be worn as an emblem.
Denal and Back Up had been every bit as inseparable as the members of Saber Squad since coming to the 501st. They were bound together by the recognition of what they had been a part of, the ghastly torture and abuse that they had witnessed and permitted firsthand. And their dedication to Captain Rex was as complete, solid, and unwavering as their dedication to each other.
It was Back Up whom Denal had been waiting to contact, to let him know all was well, for surely news of the botched mission was starting to leak out.
But at the rate the holo stations were being used, he might do just as well to wait until he was back with the rest of the battalion and impart the details to Back Up in person.
He decided to wait it out just a bit longer, but this time he would not go all the way to the sleeping tubes. There was a port observation lounge not far from the holo stations. He could pass the time there and maybe actually get to have a few moments of peace to enjoy the starscape.
When he went inside, he had expected to be the lounge's only occupant. But to his surprise, there was one other person present. A person he knew well.
"Lieutenant Top, I'm surprised to see you in here. I thought you'd be in the holo-station with the rest of Saber Squad. I just saw them still in there," he greeted.
"I was in there earlier," Top replied. "Just out here to take a breather. And, uh, it's okay for you to call me just Top. I've told you that a hundred times."
"I know," Denal grinned, sitting down beside him before the large viewing window. "But you're a lieutenant, and I'm a sergeant. Just trying to maintain proper protocol."
"Well, you've been around longer than I have, you know?"
"Only by a matter of months," Denal replied.
An awkward silence followed which Denal recognized as highly uncharacteristic of his companion.
"Is everything alright, Lieutenant?" Denal inquired. "I don't think I've ever seen you this quiet or serious."
Top waited several seconds before speaking. "I have a decision to make, and . . . I'm not really sure what to do."
Denal looked pensively at him. "It can't be any harder than the decisions you had to make down there. That was a cluster. We're lucky any of us made it out alive."
"Well . . . we all may have made it out alive, but not everyone did," Top reminded him. "If the 808th hadn't come in and saved our asses, we'd all be hanging from the trees right now." A pause. "They took heavy losses, all on account of us."
"Aren't all front-line units like that?" Denal pointed out. "One unit makes a sacrifice so another can complete its mission. One man makes a sacrifice so his brothers will live. That's one thing I've learned in the 501st. The most important person is the one right next to you."
Top grinned. "Not bad for a guy who's never served alongside his own batchers."
"My family are the brothers I find on my left and right, no matter what the unit is," Denal replied. "That's how it was at E&E. That's how it is here in the 501st." He gave a one-sided shrug. "My batchers will always be special to me, but I know, going forward, that I would first choose to serve under Captain Rex over any other consideration."
Top chuckled. "You're not making my decision any easier."
"Considering I don't even know what the decision is, how could I possibly even try to make it easier?" Denal quipped. "Anything you care to talk about, LT?"
Top eyed him for a long moment.
Denal was the picture-perfect clone non-commissioned officer. Everything about him was template. The hair, in both color and cut; the complete lack of any distinguishing marks such as tattoos or even scars; the intense but even expression. Denal was the sort of man who had no desire to be noticed for anything other than his abilities. He held no animus against his brothers of a more flamboyant nature. It was simply that he, himself, could not be bothered with originality for its own sake. Creativity was, to his mind, an internal thing, manifesting in outward behavior, not appearance.
"I've been offered first-in-command of the 808th," Top said at last.
Denal appeared, for the briefest moment, to be prepared to say one thing, but to then opt for another. "That's quite an honor."
Top nodded slowly. "They're going to build it back up, and Commander Ki'weya apparently suggested I would be a good fit to oversee the rebuilding."
"I can see why," Denal agreed. "You'd do a good job." He was careful with his inflection. "What about the rest of your squad? Would they be going with you?"
"No, Captain Rex made that clear."
"What does he think about it?"
"He told me . . . he said this was the kind of thing I'm made for, more or less, building up things that have been broken," Top replied.
"He's right," Denal agreed. "Have you talked to your squad?"
"Not yet. I have to make this decision without them," Top said firmly.
Denal suddenly had a sense of knowing. "It sounds to me like you've already made the decision and are now just trying to figure out how to tell them."
Top turned to regard him with a bit of wonder. "You definitely know how to read a man, Sergeant."
"Well, you're not a hard one to read, Lieutenant," Denal replied lightly. "And I can tell you, the moment you walk in and bring up the subject . . . your squad mates are going to already know your decision. They'll be able to read it in your expression."
"Well then . . . maybe I won't have to actually say the words," Top frowned. "Because with all you seem to know about me, Sergeant, you must also know that I'm a big, huge sap."
Denal grinned. "I don't think that's the word most of us would use, Sir. But, uh, yeah, I know what you mean."
Top pushed up to his feet. "I guess I'd better go tell the captain."
Denal rose with him. "I'll be sorry to see you go, Lieutenant. You're one of the very best." He smiled sincerely, "But Captain Top has a nice ring to it."
"Yeah, it does," Top agreed. "Keep this to yourself for now?"
"Of course, Sir."
"Are you sure this is what you want to do?"
"Yes, Sir. There was never really any doubt, Captain. I knew there was only one answer. I think I'm needed here."
Rex had not expected a decision so soon, but he found that now that the decision had been made, he preferred the impending sense of loss over the aggravation of waiting.
"You won't be coming back with us," Rex stated. "You'll pull your convalescence here. That'll give you a chance to familiarize yourself with how things are done before you actually have to jump in." Rex eyed him with a warning. "And I do expect you to take your full convalescence."
"I will, Captain."
Rex took a long, hard, assessing look at him – one of his top officers, certainly his most brazen and daring, not to mention impetuous and a bit fool-hardy. "By the Force, I must be crazy for agreeing to this," he said. "If they were trying to reassign you, I'd fight like hell to keep you here. But . . . they asked, and . . . you accepted. I don't want to stand in the way of that. I know you're the best thing they could have asked for."
"Thank you, Sir."
"You'd better go tell the others."
Top nodded. It was not something he was looking forward to.
"You're all still here in the fekking holo station? For the love of—how much more can there be to talk about?" Top boomed, bursting into the room.
"Where have you been for the last hour?" Hardcase demanded.
"The captain must have really been ticked off to be yelling at you all this time," Pitch grinned.
"He wasn't yelling at me," Top blustered back. "We had something to discuss."
"For over an hour?" Kix challenged.
"It was important," Top replied, and something in his tone of voice, the turn of his countenance, was detectable to Jessie, even across the distorted image of the holocom.
"What is it, Top?" came the inquiry.
"I, uh, I have some news," Top said. "Something I have to tell you."
"Go on," Hardcase invited. "We're listening."
Top looked around at the waiting, expectant faces. The only one who looked like he was taking this seriously was Jessie. The others seemed to think that some great joke or concocted tale was in the offing.
Make it fast. Be direct.
"I've been offered first-in-command of the 808th."
The silence fell like a shroud over the room. No one spoke. No one moved. As was as if whatever life force had animated the souls in that room had been sucked straight out. Did they not hear him? Did they not believe him? Or maybe they did believe him, and that was the reason for their silence. Why weren't they saying something? Anything?
"They, uh, they're reconstituting the battalion, and they need someone to take Captain Snap's place," he went on without prompting. "General Shyfa asked Captain Rex to . . . see if I'd be interested."
It was Kix who found his voice first. "Are you?"
"Yes. Yes, I am," Top replied. "They've got a tough road ahead of them, rebuilding and all. I think I would be needed there more than I'm needed here."
Jessie, gracious and perhaps more comprehending of the ebbs and flows of war, spoke warmly. "Congratulations, Top. No one deserves it more."
Hardcase gave a crooked smile. "Bossing us around wasn't enough? You needed to get into a position where you could boss around an entire battalion."
"You hit it right on the head," Top said with a wink.
"When would you start?" Jessie asked.
"Right after my convalescence," Top answered. "I'll stay here for that, start getting the lay of the land, as they say."
"So, the decision's been made? This is a done deal?" Kix asked quietly.
Top kept his distance as he replied, "Yes, LB. I told Captain Rex I was accepting the position. He's told General Shyfa by now."
Another awkward silence followed, then Pitch, open and honest as ever, put forth, "I know this is the sort of thing we should be congratulating you for, but I gotta tell you, I wish you weren't going." He put a hand on his brother's shoulder. "In fact, I hate it that you're going. But . . . we all know the kind of soldier you are. They're going to be damned lucky to have you."
"Thanks, Pitch," Top said gratefully, then, "Jessie, I just wish you were here in person. It feels cold doing this over the holo."
"It's good enough," Jessie replied. "You're going to do a great job, Top. We'll all be pulling for you. And, you know how it is in the Army; we'll all probably meet up again."
The morose pall that had descended over the room was now made even worse when Top announced that the rest of the team was leaving to return to Coruscant the following day at 1900.
But leave it to Hardcase to lighten the mood. "Well, fek and all, if this is going to be our last night together, we should spend the whole time here in the holo station, so you can be with us, Jessie. We can spend the whole night telling stories about the splendor of Saber Squad!"
"That sounds like fun to me!" Pitch agreed.
Jessie concurred. "And you can start with the time the man of the hour snuck into the flight simulator and made us all sick—"
"Now, that's not fair, Jessie," Top protested spiritedly, both relieved and grateful at the opportunity to deflect the heaviness that had threatened their gathering. "I was just the one who suggested it. As I recall, it was you who figured out how to get into the simulator without anyone noticing—"
The story unfolded to fond recollections and laughter. And while the joy of remembrance was genuine, the underlying current of happiness was fleeting. They all knew it. In a few hours, the family they had known from the first moments of their earliest awareness would see its first enduring alteration. The trials of the past, they had overcome together. But now, one of their family was, by his own volition, taking his leave.
Saber Squad would never be the same, never be whole, again.