Dear Reader, I am sorry it's been so long since I last posted! Lots of stuff going on! Not to mention, it's been very hard to adapt this arc to paper - the episodes have lots of extended fight scenes, which tend to be (in my opinion) rather boring reading, even though they're exciting on the screen. I took some license with the number of clones and their deaths (it was so inconsistent in the episodes), as well as where people are in certain scenes. And of course, I added my own dialog and lots of internal exposition. I wanted to use this chapter to start to show some of the changes in how the clones view things. We all know that Rex and Fives are two very different people by the time Umbara gets here (and it's coming next) than they were in the beginning. The show gets darker, and so does this story. Thanks for Braveseeker, LLTC, Ms CT-782, the Unnamed Guest, Sued13, Shadow Wanderer, and Phoenix Lordess for taking the time to review the last chapter. Thanks for sticking with me through this very long story and very long pause! Enjoy! CS

Chapter 91 The Beginning of Differences

"Whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the process he does not become a monster. And if you gaze long enough into an abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you."

Beyond Good and Evil
Friedrich Nietzsche

It was a matter of instinct. And which instinct was the more powerful.

The instinct was to run from an explosion. Even common sense told him that.

It was also instinctual to run to a brother's aid.

But . . . would he be running to aid or running only to look upon the face of a dead man?

The appearance of death didn't always mean the actual occurrence of death.

It was a hope worth holding onto, wasn't it?

Wasn't it?

In the eerie silence that followed the explosion, he heard the sound of Fives crying out in anguish.

"Echo!"

It was that cry that pushed him to action. In what might have been one of the least well-considered decisions of his life, Rex leaped out from behind the cover that he and Ahsoka were still sharing as they made their way back to the rest of the group.

He made it only a few steps before a powerful, unseen hand reached out and yanked him back with the sort of strength he had come to know not to resist.

General Skywalker. Force-propelling him back to cover.

But as he landed awkwardly on the ground beside Commander Tano, and as he looked up to see her glaring down at him, he realized his mistake.

"No, Rex," the commander said emphatically.

It was she who had pulled him back. He hadn't realized she had grown that strong in the Force.

"Commander, I can't just—"

"It's too late, Captain," came the fierce, no-nonsense reply. Gone was the familiarity of first names. Commander Tano meant business. It seemed she had transformed right there before his eyes from the rather headstrong pest who had stolen her way onto this mission into a responsible leader, who—at the moment—was showing more sense than he was.

"Right . . . " he murmured, pushing up into a crouching position; and although he knew the commander was right, he struggled to force down his reluctance to leave.

"General Kenobi's ordered a retreat," Ahsoka informed him. "We need to get out of here."

Rex made a quick scan of their immediate surroundings. The outer wall of the landing platform was less than ten meters away. On the other side of the wall, the ground made a precipitous drop fifty or so meters into the winding labyrinth of lava-carved canyons and tunnels below.

"We can go over the side," Rex stated. "It's a long way down , Commander."

Ahsoka recognized the implication in his voice.

"Not a problem," she replied.

"You're sure about that?" Rex inquired.

"Positive," came the confident reply. "I've come a long way since Point Rain."

"Then you go first. I'll cover you." Rex traded his side arms for a fallen repeat-firing long blaster and without the slightest hesitation, leaned out and began laying down a field of fire to cover Ahsoka's retreat to the wall. Two leaps and she was gone over the side.

Rex waited several seconds.

"Okay, Commander," he said silently. "My life is in your hands." With that, he broke for the wall and dove over head-first, plummeting into the red-infused darkness beyond the platform, falling like a rock towards the churning lava below. He could see Commander Tano standing on a narrow spinney of rock almost directly below, and he hoped—prayed—that she had grown strong enough in the Force to direct his fall so that he landed on the rock instead of in the lava.

At least this time, he knew what to expect, unlike at Point Rain, when the commander and General Skywalker had just sort of tossed him into the air off the barrier wall with no explanation of what their plan was. In retrospect, it was good that they hadn't told him; he would have objected vociferously. On this occasion, he knew what was happening and why. There'd be no screaming on the way down this time.

His fall was definitely slowing but he was still out over the lava.

Maybe a scream was in order . . .

Then suddenly, he felt an incredible power, a strength much greater than what he'd been feeling. His descent slowed quickly, and he was moved directly over the rock, where he touched down light as a feather.

The sound of General Skywalker's voice told him whose the intervention had been.

"Good job, Ahsoka," Anakin said, but his voice was subdued. Their loss on the landing platform precluded any sense of satisfaction.

Ahsoka, speaking quietly, replied, "I had him, Master. You didn't need to help me."

Anakin put a hand on her shoulder. "I know that. I helped because I wanted to." He looked back up to the top of the cliff. "They'll be coming soon. We need to get moving."

"What's the plan now?" Captain Tarkin asked. "If that was Plan B, is there now a Plan C Or perhaps there's a plan D?"

It was Obi-wan who overlooked the sarcasm and replied, "I've already called for an extraction."

"Well, this certainly hasn't been a very impressive operation, has it?" the captain stated, yet his voice did not lend itself to straight criticism. There was something almost . . . humorous in his observation, as if he were finding the whole comedy of errors quite entertaining. It was strange, coming from a man so ready with his reproaches.

"It's not over yet," Anakin pointed out. "Let's get moving. We've got less than two hours to get to the extraction point."

As they began moving out, Anakin pulled up beside his captain. "You okay, Rex?" he asked in a low voice.

Rex nodded slightly.

"It's a tough loss," Anakin went on. "Echo was one of the best. Not just as a soldier, but as a man."

"Yes, Sir," Rex agreed. "I . . . expected him to die doing something like that." A pause. "Just not so soon."

Anakin placed his hand on Rex's shoulder in a gesture of comfort. "He almost made it."

"Almost." Rex sighed heavily. "I'd better make sure Fives is okay. I don't know how this is going to affect him." And he wasn't sure he wanted to find out.

As the group entered the maze of lava tunnels and canyons, keeping a constant check behind them to make sure they were not being followed, Rex kept an eye on Fives, waiting for an opportunity to talk to him. At length, he moved next to him.

"Fives, take over the rear from Bounce. I have a feeling the enemy isn't too far behind," Rex ordered.

"Yes, Captain."

"And Fives . . . I'm sorry about Echo," he added, reaching out and placing his hand on Five's pauldroned shoulder.

Perhaps not surprisingly, Fives stepped away from the gesture of comfort. "Please Captain . . . not now. I can't."

Despite the tight control in Fives' voice, Rex heard the grief and turmoil beneath. He could fully comprehend Fives' desire not to even think of what had just happened—not at this moment, at least—and he nodded his understanding.

Twenty minutes later, as they passed through a honeycomb of irregular basalt columns and pools of superheated water that wafted ghostly coils of steam, General Kenobi paused for the group to take a rest and collect their wits. Cody sent Bounce and Fives to stand watch, as there were still speeder-borne patrols canvassing the area from above.

"We have to hold out until the council sends a ship," Obi-wan stated.

General Piell spoke with certainty. "Not a problem. We beat them once; we can beat them again."

From where he stood watch near the top of a steep embankment, Fives heard this glib and, in his opinion, arbitrary assessment of their success, and he felt his spine stiffen. So far, they had lost four troopers on this debacle of a mission. He wasn't exactly sure how that qualified as "beating" them. Now, they were hiding out in the shadows, hoping that the rescue ship would get to them before the enemy did. Damn it, the place was designed to prevent Jedi from escaping. They had among them right now three Jedi and one padawan; yet they were cowering in the recesses and dark crevices of this place.

And now Echo was gone . . .

"This landscape is almost impossible to cross." He'd spoken before he'd even realized it. "How are we going to get to the rendez-vous point?"

Rex sighed. This was what he had feared. There was no mistaking the defeatist tone in Fives' voice. And Rex knew this was only the first indication of what was to come.

Rex had not always been the most astute reader of character and emotion; but he'd always gotten by on the fact that he himself was honest and genuine, and so he could be given a pass for the failure to sense someone's emotions or judge their character correctly. But as far as Echo and Fives were concerned, that was a bond he'd understood from his earliest moments of observation.

Of the pair, it had been Echo, undisputedly and irrefutably, who had kept the optimistic, positive vibe in the relationship. Echo had been the type who never gave in, never gave up, and never said die. His idiosyncrasies aside, Echo had been a generous, thoughtful, and conscientious brother; a brilliant and courageous soldier; and one of the most decent beings—human or otherwise—Rex had never known.

Fives, on the other hand, had always tended towards the skeptical, pessimistic, even suspicious viewpoint. He'd come a long way since the early days of his membership in the 501st, but he'd never stopped depending on Echo to keep him afloat. He was a tremendous and talented soldier in his own right; but his somewhat melancholy mindset and dark sense of humor had never been fully supplanted by his friend's more buoyant and wide-eyed nature.

Without Echo to counterbalance the heaviness that always seemed ready to settle onto Fives' shoulders, Rex feared the pessimism would rear its head.

As it was doing now.

"That is the trap of the Citadel," Obi-wan replied. "It was designed so it would be almost impossible for fugitives to get off the surface, even if they escape the tower."

Anakin spoke boldly. "Lucky we're not just any fugitives." With that, he got them moving again.

Rex took point, and shortly, he found Ahsoka moving with him.

"How's Fives taking it?" she asked quietly.

"I'm just trying to keep him focused on the mission," Rex replied. "I need him to keep himself together until we're out of here. Losing it now could cost him—and the rest of us—our lives." A pause. "I don't think he'll let his guard down until this is over. But I know he's hurting. And I know it's bad."

Ahsoka frowned. "I noticed . . . he was kind of the old Fives back there: doubtful and pessimistic, you know?"

"I know."

"Echo was the most important person in the universe to him," Ahsoka went on. "He's never going to be the same."

Rex had nothing to say to that, so he chose a tangent. "By the way, thank you for pulling me back up on the platform."

Ahsoka was somewhat surprised by this expression of gratitude. It was not what she had expected. "You're not angry?"

"No," Rex answered. "You were right. He—he was probably already dead, and . . . it was a mistake for me to try running out there. It was a gut reaction."

"I think that's why your men feel so strongly about you, Captain," Ahsoka opined. "Your first thought is always for them."

Rex glanced sidelong at her and wondered when in the past few months she had changed from a sticky-hearted teenager into a young woman with the self-control to express her thoughts without giving into the overthrows of emotion. He did not fool himself into thinking that she had suddenly become a responsible adult; stealing onto this mission was proof enough against that, but she no longer seemed to be the doe-eyed girl who had not managed at all to conceal her infatuation with him. Rather, the affection and attraction were more subtle and muted, though not in the least diminished.

"But I couldn't do anything this time," Rex sighed. "I didn't even know he was going until it was too late. I couldn't stop him."

Ahsoka wished she could see beneath the helmet. "Are you going to be okay?"

"Yeah," Rex replied in a wan voice. "He's . . . not the first soldier I've lost."

"No, but he meant a lot to you," Ahsoka pointed out.

"I met him fresh out of Basic on his first assignment. I brought him into the 501st," Rex said. "I made him an ARC trooper. Yeah, he meant a lot . . . but there are many brothers who mean a lot to me. I wish I could save them all." With that, he quickened his pace, ending the discussion.

Ahsoka grimaced. It might be lost on the others, but it was not lost on her: that while the concern was for Fives and how Echo's loss would affect him, yet she could not overlook Rex and what Echo's death meant to him. Echo had quickly become one of Rex's most dependable and relied upon troopers. Their relationship had grown very close, and it was not a given that Rex would soon move on from the tragedy.

Only time would tell.

"We've got a whole platoon of droids coming up behind us," Fives reported. "Including commandoes. They followed us from inside the caves."

"We need to quicken the pace," Anakin urged. "Everyone, get moving!"

Master Piell held back. "Ahsoka and I will bring up the rear and hold them off in case those metal bastards get too close."

Anakin gave a curt nod.

The trot at which they'd been moving turned into a full run.

Cody, following behind Rex, was splitting his attention between watching for pursuit or ambushes and ensuring the injured men from Piell and Tarkin's command were not left behind. And perhaps it shouldn't have irked him the way it did, but neither superior officer seemed to give even the least whit of concern for the men. It was falling to him and Bounce to keep the injured from falling behind, and the only way to do that was to inform Generals Kenobi and Skywalker that the pace was too fast.

To their combined credit, both Obi-wan and Anakin willingly sacrificed speed, risking their own lives, to allow the injured to keep up and reminding Cody why he should feel incredibly fortunate to have such men as his commanding generals.

But Cody had more on his mind than just the injured men he was assisting. The other focus of his attention was split between Fives and Rex. The commander had noticed back in the caves the cool distance already starting to envelop Fives. During a brief moment of pursuit back in the caves, Fives had tossed a grenade into a group of encroaching commando droids, only getting himself out of harm's way by taking a flying leap across a bubbling lava pit. The explosion set the droids back, but it was Fives' reaction on the other end that concerned Cody.

Rex had offered him a hand up from his front-first dive. Fives had accepted, but then came a peculiar manner of acknowledgment, a curt nod of the head that had seemed particularly distant and unfamiliar coming from Fives. Fives had practically worshipped the very ground that Rex walked on, so to see him offer what appeared to be almost dismissive thanks . . .

"Don't read too much into it," Cody told himself. "He's hurting right now, but he's holding it together. The main thing for all of us to get out of here. He's probably trying to keep his distance so he doesn't lose it."

At least, that was what he was hoping for.

Now, Rex, on the other hand . . . while Cody was sure the loss was sitting heavy on him, he also knew Rex was professional enough to be able to keep his mind squarely on the mission.

It was what would happen after the mission that concerned Cody – given, of course, that they survived, which was by no means certain.

Since first meeting Rex in ARC training, Cody had noticed the changes in his friend – the most significant of which had already started to take place while they were still in training. It was not hard for Cody to recall the eager ball of energy that had been Rex upon their first meeting in the room that they would share for six weeks. A man who wore his emotions on his armored sleeve, boldly displayed for everyone to see and marvel at. A man who'd had no qualms about growing attached to his brothers and showing it.

There had been something so honest, so artless about Rex that Cody should have known it could never survive the contrived rigors of ARC training. Of course, Rex had excelled in the program and graduated only second to himself; but the part of Rex that had laid his soul out for everyone to see . . . that part no longer existed. Or perhaps it did, but it was no longer allowed to play on the surface. The events of the final test—the Escape and Evasion scenario—of ARC training had changed Rex in many ways, the most prevalent of which was the generation of a guardedness, an unwillingness to show weakness of any kind. And such a stalwart demeanor could only be achieved by the forceful suppression of any affection or connection he felt with his men. Cody had no doubt that Rex felt deeply, that he was irrevocably and wholeheartedly devoted to the men who served under him – not to mention, the Jedi under whom he served; but he would not admit to those emotions. Even the most casual observer could discern them in him; yet, he would not acknowledge such emotions to himself. It was as if the physical punishments he'd suffered in E&E had somehow opened him up like a man on an operating table, revealing all his weaknesses and push points. He would never allow those weaknesses to be so readily accessed again. He would demonstrate his devotion and loyalty through his actions and his words. But his emotions were off-limits. And he would allow his men only as close as he comfortable with . . .

As if he could pull off such a thing.

Cody had never seen a man so connected to his troops and vice versa, despite Rex's best efforts to keep a distance.

It was that connection that worried the commander now. Rex had taken a lot of personal responsibility for both Fives and Echo.

Now, Echo was dead.

His thoughts were interrupted as the group pulled up sharply in front of him.

They had come to a sheer drop-off of at least one hundred-fifty meters; and now the enemy was approaching from all asides.

"They're boxing us in!" Ahsoka said.

Anakin, without hesitation, ordered, "Lock in your cables." A pause. "Artoo, we need your droids to hold off the enemy as long as possible. Everybody, follow me!" He motioned for Captain Tarkin to climb onto his back and then he was over the edge in a face-first posture, using the cable to shimmy down the cliff side.

"This is madness!" Tarkin blurted out, but he held on, deciding that he stood a better chance of survival on the back of a Jedi than he did remaining on the cliff above.

It was a tricky descent, but no more difficult than anything else they'd done thus far on this forsaken mission; and Cody was truly hoping it wouldn't all come to naught. He wasn't given to pessimism, but this mission hadn't exactly gone accordingly to plan at any step along the way.

Making it to the ground below, the group made their way down into the tunnels below the surface and continued on, safe for the moment but with no illusion that the enemy was about to give up the pursuit.

Cody followed behind Ahsoka with Rex directly behind him as they wended their way through the passageways of a bizarre and threatening subscape.

"I think we've managed to lose them in these tunnels," Ahsoka noted. "It's been almost an hour and we haven't seen any pursuers."

"I wouldn't get too comfortable with that idea, Ahsoka," Obi-wan warned. "Sobeck specializes in tracking. It's why they put him in charge of this place. He won't give up, and there's an almost one hundred percent chance we'll see him or his forces again before we're rescued."

"How much further to the rendez-vous?" Ahsoka inquired.

"It's hard to say," Obi-wan replied. "On a straight line, I'd say no more than two clicks. But we have to follow the lines of these tunnels."

"Are we sure these tunnels will lead us there?" Ahsoka asked. "I know we only had old, outdated data on the Citadel. What if we can't get there through these tunnels."

"Then we'll find another way," came the assured reply.

From near the back of the gaggle, Tarkin's voice rose in a challenging, rather skeptical tone. "What if your Jedi friends are not there when we arrive?"

"Keep moving and you won't have to worry about that, Tarkin," General Piell replied in an equally disdainful voice, bordering on hatred.

Walking between the two men, Cody congratulated himself on his ability to simply let things roll over him – things like the petty squabbles between senior officers, even Jedi. He could have dwelt on the absurdity of Piell's statement, for it might very well be that all of them would keep moving only to discover that the planned rescue had not materialized, in which case they would all have to worry about that. Or he could have wondered why Captain Tarkin insisted on using cynicism and doubt to stoke less than charitable feelings between him and his general. Of course, that seemed to be Tarkin's way with everyone. The man clearly had a sense of his own superiority which fostered doubt in his own mind that anyone else could possibly have worthy ideas or plans. Either way, both men were annoying as hell.

Behind Cody, Rex's thoughts were much different and tainted by his previous run-in with General Piell back on the very first day of him taking his position as first-in-command of the 501st. He'd found himself quietly rooting for Captain Tarkin to come back with some snappy, insulting rejoinder to Piell's comment; though, for his own part, Rex wasn't particularly fond of the captain either. Still, based on his earlier observances, he'd noted the slight thaw in the frigid relationship between his own general and the captain. And if General Skywalker was satisfied to tolerate Tarkin's supercilious manner, then Rex had no reason not to follow suit.

Ahsoka, on the other hand, felt no compulsion to take her master's lead. She sidled up to Anakin and in a quiet voice, asked, "Why did Master Piell have to share half the intel with that guy? It's like he's not even grateful we rescued him."

Anakin was circumspect in his answer. "Captain Tarkin feels the Jedi should be . . . relieved from their burden of leading the war effort," he said, as the group emerged from the tunnels into the canyons.

"That's ridiculous," Ahsoka scoffed.

"Maybe," Anakin conceded. "But we aren't soldiers. We're peacekeepers." A pause. "The Jedi Code often prevents us from going far enough to achieve victory."

Overhearing the conversation, Obi-wan put forth, "A rather simple point of view."

Anakin would not allow the conversation to stray too far, and when he spoke, it was with conviction. "Either way, he is a good captain."

Ahsoka was about to protest when a fearful howl echoed around them. "Did you hear that?"

It was Piell who replied. "Yes. We're going to have company."

"That's a quaint way of putting it," Tarkin sniffed. "It sounds more like we're going to be torn to pieces by wild animals."

"Those aren't wild animals, captain," Piell sneered. "Those are the Anubis. I've seen them in action. They're trained for tracking. But you're right about one thing . . . " He gave a macabre grin. "They can tear you to pieces."

Tarkin took on his best caustic slant. "I suppose you Jedi have no need to fear them. You can just wave them away with the Force or cut them down with your light sabers. The rest of us might not be so fortunate."

"We're here to protect the group, Captain," Obi-wan pointed out. "Not just ourselves."

"That makes me feel so much better," Tarkin said flippantly. "From the way things were going, I was starting to wonder if any of us would get out of this alive." He affected a mockingly pious attitude and posture. "Although my own general would never hesitate to sacrifice his life for those of his men."

Piell was not going to let the swipe go unanswered. "Not all men are worth the sacrifice." He quickened his pace and moved ahead, effectively ending the conversation.

Some seconds later, Anakin drew up beside Tarkin. "You know . . . it's not wise to argue with Master Piell," he warned, feeling magnanimous in offering such sage advice. "It's certainly not a good career move."

But Tarkin's reply quickly dispelled any idea that the captain had been bothered by Piell's words or that he needed the benefit of Anakin's wisdom.

"General Skywalker," he began in a haughty voice, "I stand by my principles no matter what. Besides, you needn't worry about my career. I've fallen into favor with the chancellor. He shall support me."

"Oh? I happen to know the chancellor quite well myself," Anakin replied.

This seemed to surprise the captain, and he inquired with doubt in his voice, "Really?"

Anakin faced him squarely and spoke firmly. "Really."

Obi-wan, not liking the conversation he was hearing behind him, raised his voice. "Let's keep moving. If we're not at the rendez-vous at the exact time, we'll miss our window."

Another ear-splitting cry pierced the eerie silence.

"Those creatures are gaining," Fives observed.

"If they've caught our scent, they'll lead the droids right to us," Piell stated.

"We're going to have to deal with them," Anakin grimaced.

"What about using this cave to surprise them? Ahsoka suggested.

Piell picked up on the idea. "If we can get them to pass by, we can attack them from behind; but we need a distraction."

"Leave that to me," Anakin volunteered, then at a cue from Obi-wan, he added, "And Obi-wan, of course."

"Okay," Piell agreed. "The rest of you, follow me."

The dog-like Anubis were master-trackers. And they were fast. But in their haste to find their quarry, they completely ignored the divergence of the scent, choosing instead to continue full-on in the straightest route. Detouring into a cave to check out a tangential scent trail was not something that processed through their limited intelligence.

And their single-minded focus paid off when two figures came into view.

Two figures with glowing lights in their hands.

But the glowing lights meant nothing to the Anubis. To them, Jedi were unknown. There was only prey, only the pursuit. They did not differentiate between types. They cared only for the capture.

Anakin and Obi-wan—the distractions—both turned as the creatures bore down on them.

For all the death he had delivered thus far in his life, there were times when Anakin hated killing. The destruction of dumb animals was one of those times. These creatures had been trained to carry out a function. Morality played no role in their actions. They did as they were trained; and when they were successful, they were rewarded. There was no animus, no hatred in what they did.

Yet, they would kill him if they could. Violence had to be met with violence. It might not be the Jedi way, but it was the way of war.

And following close on their heels came droids on speeder platforms.

Destroying droids . . . that was another matter, and one which Anakin was more than happy to oblige.

But what neither Anakin nor Obi-wan knew was that while they were fighting the Anubis and a small contingent of droids, a larger squad of crab droids had followed the Anubis at a greater distance and was now in the process of moving in to cut off General Piell and his group as they emerged from the cave. The idea of surprising the Anubis with a rear attack seemed to be off the table.

Or perhaps not entirely. General Piell turned to Commander Cody. "Keep going. Ahsoka and I will take care of the droids."

Cody and the rest of the group raced on ahead just in time to add their firepower against the platform-borne droids.

Rex, unleashing his double pistols, began firing; but out of the corner of his eye, he could see his general performing a series of backflips in order to avoid the barrage from the speeder platforms. The acrobatics might not be necessary, but they were the general's style; and Rex had come to expect such displays. He liked to think that he could stand toe-to-toe with his commanding officer through his own show of expert marksmanship. And under the circumstances, this would be more than a mere show; lives might depend on his ability to hit a target.

He didn't bother to use his targeting aid or his helmet's headsup display. He trusted to his own visual acuity and timing and was rewarded with a direct hit to one of the platforms, which went spinning and careening out of control . . .

. . . directly towards General Skywalker.

Rex needn't have worried, though, for Anakin had seen the platform hurtling towards him and taken a knee as the platform flew overhead and crashed behind him. Rex saw the look in his general's eye – a look that said, Good job, but not so close, next time. It was the sort of approval Rex lived for; a sign of approbation from the man he admired most.

He came to a conclusion at that moment, a thought entering his head that had never been there before. That even if they were to die here on this planet, awaiting rescue; to die with General Skywalker would be the way to go.

The only way.

There was no Jedi who fought harder for his men. No Jedi who took more chances. No Jedi who made those in his charge feel as if anything and everything were possible. No battle so fearsome that the terror could not be lessened under General Skywalker's leadership. No situation so hopeless that a ray of hope could not be gleaned from General Skywalker's mere presence.

Being in Master Piell's presence again had brought home to Rex just how fortunate he'd been in his assignment to the 501st and General Skywalker. And having General Kenobi rarely more than a stone's throw away was an added boon; for not only was Kenobi a brilliant man, but the contrast with General Skywalker in terms of leadership and combat styles accentuated the differences between the two and brought into close relief the reasons why Rex was so well-suited to Anakin, just as Cody was well-suited to Obi-wan.

Had Rex believed in blessings, he would have considered himself to be the abundant recipient thereof.

General Skywalker approached and put a hand on his shoulder. "Were you trying to take my head off?"

"Just trying to protect you, Sir," Rex replied. "Lucky shot. Unlucky crash trajectory."

Anakin smiled. In the shadow of their losses—in the shadow of Echo's death—the momentary show of levity and gratitude felt good. Fleeting, but good.

"So much for the hunting party," Cody said.

"There are more squads on their way," Captain Tarkin stated with certainty. "We shouldn't hang about."

Suddenly, Obi-wan's voice drew everyone's attention. "Oh, no."

All eyes followed his gaze.

Ahsoka was emerging from the swirling mist. In her arms, she carried General Piell. Anakin stepped forward and helped her lay him on the ground.

He was dead.

It seemed unbelievable. Master Piell was too ornery to die, too stubborn to succumb to death.

But it was true. Definitive.

"He died honorably," Ahsoka said softly. "One of the Anubis . . . "

Anakin pushed his emotions aside. "What about the information?"

"I have it," Ahsoka replied. "He told me just before he died."

The silence that followed was, in many ways, peculiar but not surprising. The man they had come to rescue was dead, but all was not lost. The mission lived in that he had given Ahsoka the vital information and a chance to still claim success. It was perhaps Captain Tarkin's reaction that was the strangest of all, for there was no reaction. He appeared neither grieved nor distraught. Not even moved. Indifference might have best described the manner in which he stood to one side, looking dispassionately at the face of the dead Jedi, his commanding general.

After nearly a minute, Anakin spoke up, "We can't stay here. We have to get to the rendez-vous. Our window's almost here."

Ahsoka raised her head, eyes wide and round and filled with sadness. "We can't just leave him here."

Anakin's reply was direct and plain. "We've left a lot of men where they fell."

Here, Obi-wan stepped in. "We should commit his soul of the Force and his body to the earth."

At these words, Rex could almost sense a tenseness clamp down on Fives, who was standing several meters away, keeping a watchful eye out for more pursuers. He was not hardpressed to wonder at the reaction. They'd taken not even a second to mourn or honor any of the other men—all clones—who had fallen on this mission. Maybe the circumstances hadn't allowed it . . . but did their current circumstances indicate any better?

As Obi-wan wrapped Master Piell's body in a micro-blanket taken from Bounce's pack, Rex moved over towards Fives as discreetly as possible; but Fives, sensing the reason behind his captain's approach, waylayed him.

"I'm going to check our six," he said. "Someone has to."

"Fives—"

"It's good, Captain," Fives cut him off. "I want to do it."

Rex sighed and watched him take a dozen or so steps away to scan the surroundings for signs of more pursuit.

"I can't blame him."

Rex turned to see Cody now standing beside him.

"No . . . neither can I," Rex agreed.

"We don't have much time," Obi-wan began. "Let's take this moment to honor him. Then we must move on. He would have wanted us to complete our mission."

Rex wasn't really sure how to honor the man. Given his brief history with the man prior to this mission—all of maybe ten minutes, if that—and the negative feelings that time had engendered, doubtless in both of them, Rex could do little more than lament the loss of fighting prowess. If there were more to General Piell than what Rex had known, others could mourn the loss of those more admirable characteristics; for while Rex was not a man who harbored grudges, he also was not a man who simply brushed by the wrongs of the past with the plastic mask of tolerance and acceptance when he felt neither.

He'd never told General the entire truth of that brief encounter with General Piell. Events of this day might be the opening he'd been waiting for. Except that he hadn't been waiting for an opening. He'd never intended to tell General Skywalker the full details of what had happened. It wasn't the kind of thing a serious officer did – running to his commanding general with a litany of excuses for why he'd acted the way he had or done the things he'd done. There was no need to unburden the soul; and with General Skywalker, Rex had felt as if he'd come out more than even as far as commanding officers are concerned. No need to complain. No need to impart details best put to rest.

And now that Master Piell had died, there was no reason why General Skywalker should ever know the truth of the precipitating events of that day. After all, the circumstances had helped Rex make a first impression that had ultimately convinced his new general that here was an officer unlike any other. What could have easily backfired ended up working to Rex's advantage.

For that, he had Master Piell to thank.

And so that was what he did in the silence of his thoughts.

"I'm still not sorry—to this day, I'm still not sorry for what I did. But I can at least say you set me off on a good foot with General Skywalker. I'm grateful for that."

He watched as Generals Kenobi and Skywalker used the Force to lower their friend's body into the river of lava below.

And then the time for grieving and honor was over.

Time was of the essence.