Dear Reader, Sorry it's been so long! I have been planning a HUGE trip (the whole month in July) to Europe, and I am the tour leader. I've just been so busy taking care of that and also my work, that I've not had much chance to post. But here is the latest installment. You will notice that I changed the ending of the Citadel Arc. Instead of having it take place on Coruscant's landing platform, it takes place aboard the Resolute. I needed to change it to accommodate certain scenes that I wanted to take place. I hope it doesn't cause any heartburn. Enjoy! CS

Chapter 92 Brokens

"Das Feuer brannt im kamin. (The fire blazed in the hearth)
Der General befahl ihm mut. (The general told him, "Have courage!")
Doch seine tat war onhe Sinn. (But his sacrifice was without meaning.)
Und Er verbrannte in der Glut. (And he burned in the glow.)

Er war nur ein Spielzeug. (He was only a play thing.)
Er war nu rein Zinnsoldat."( He was only a tin soldier.)

Zinnsoldat
Michael Cretu

The extraction point.

There it was. At last.

A jutting island of rock surrounded by a moat of roiling lava. Not the easiest place to get to. But for this group, not a problem.

Cody was already sprinting forward, taking aim and firing his cable to create an anchor on the other side. General Skywalker did the same.

Rex didn't hesitate. He was always first. He began a belly slide along the cable, feeling the searing heat coming up from the churn below. He didn't want to lose his grip on this one; although, to own the truth, he trusted General Skywalker would Force-catch him and shuttle him to safety if he were to get sloppy. But this was the sort of thing clones practiced. They were good at it.

The view in his headsup showed Captain Tarkin on the second cable. He wasn't so sure the same was true of non-clone officers with regard to such training. Still, the captain seemed to be making his way steadily, not far behind.

Rex came to the far end, happy to be on solid ground once again. He leaned down and gave Tarkin a hand up the escarpment. That was when he saw them.

"Incoming!"

Half a dozen speeder platforms. And damned if the lead wasn't Sobeck himself.

The shooting started. Light sabers flared.

But it was Fives' shot that tumbled Sobeck from his speeder. A fitting retribution of sorts.

The chaos continued. Both Generals Skywalker and Kenobi had commandeered speeders, and everywhere blaster bolts filled the partially enclosed cavern with streaks of red and blue light.

It looked like Captain Tarkin might be the one to actually kill Sobeck . . . he had his weapon raised . . .

A pinpoint shot through Sobeck's chest. But not from Tarkin.

Rex followed the line of the shot up to a ledge several meters above the lava moat. He could not believe his eyes; and yet the joy, the relief was too palpable for doubt.

"Echo!" He cried out.

The figure on the ledge did not move or respond. But clearly it was Echo. The handprint in Rishi Eel blood adorned his chest plate. The tribute to Hevy was emblazoned on the armor. Why, he hadn't been killed at all! He wasn't even hurt! He looked perfectly fine. Perfectly intact. So, why wasn't he speaking? Why didn't he even give a wave or nod of acknowledgment? Did he not hear his captain calling out to him?

Rex suddenly became aware of the silence. There was no sound at all. People were still moving around him. Shots were still being fired. Speeders still buzzed along like overgrown flies. The lava was still flowing. But everything had slowed down, morphed into some bizarre time warp.

This . . . this wasn't how it had happened.

No . . . it was Tarkin who had shot Sobeck but only injured him. It was Ahsoka—Commander Tano—who had delivered the death blow with her light saber.

Echo was no part of these final moments on the Citadel. He was—his remains were back on the landing platform . . .

Fek and all, I'm going crazy . . .

The Echo that wasn't now spoke. The voice was a whisper and yet it was as clear as the chimes of the Furnnem Holy Houses.

"Why did you leave me behind?"

Rex drew in a sharp breath and sat up.

He was in his bed aboard the Resolute. But he already knew that. It's where he had been for the past four hours, trying to get some sleep before a debriefing that was scheduled to take place in two hours.

He'd managed to fall asleep several times, but each time, the quality of his slumber was much like this last one. Fitfull, shallow, or filled with distorted images of the horror of the Citadel rescue. The horror of a loss he had not expected. The ruminations of a troubled mind that ceased to let go of events.

Rex decided it was pointless to try going back to sleep. If he were going to be assailed by memories, he would do so wide awake, where he had more control over his perceptions and was not at the mercy of dreams that made the past seem present once more.

He got dressed and decided to make some rounds through the ship. That would help redirect his thoughts. And it did, but not in the way he would have liked. Recollections of events were instead supplanted by bitter musings over whether or not his own reactions were sound. The standard canard that clones were bred to withstand almost any kind of mental stress played along like a recording in the back of his mind; yet there was a difference between feeling stress and cracking under it. Rex was convinced that he and his brothers felt the pain of loss with an anguish and sorrow equal to that of their non-clone companions. It wasn't that clones didn't experience the range or intensity of emotion; it was that they were, theoretically, better able to compartmentalize the events, thus clearing the way for them to move ahead unhindered by the messy past or fear of the uncertain future.

Rex absolutely believed this was true, and he was proud of the fact that he and his brothers could witness the most gruesome and atrocious events, mourn the death and destruction, and then push on with a certain detachment that any fighting man would envy.

Rex, himself, had done just that more times than he could remember. Being in the midst of frequent death was part of being a clone. Rex had mastered sequestering virtually every form of death and injury, and that made him an even stronger first-in-command than most. He never shrank, never looked back, never second-guessed himself.

Until now.

For the first time since ARC training, he wondered if he might have made a mistake. Multiple mistakes.

And he could not stop the replay of the exploding shuttle, of Echo's body—what was left of it—on the platform, and now . . . the accusation of his dream. "Why did you leave me behind?"

"Because you were already dead," he said under his breath. "There was nothing I could do for you. Believe me, if I'd thought for a second . . . "

The same thoughts went round and round inside his head until the next thing he knew, it was five minutes before the debriefing was to begin; and as if by instinct, he found himself standing in front of the conference room.

Stepping inside, he saw Cody already seated beside Bounce against the back wall on the far side of the room. He went to join him.

Cody watched as Rex crossed the room to join him, and he didn't like what he saw. The vigor and alertness that usually marked Rex's presence were completely absent. In fact, he looked tired and forlorn. And while this did not wholly surprise Cody after the events of the Citadel, it did concern him.

"Rex, you look like you haven't slept a wink since we got back," he remarked.

"Maybe a wink," Rex replied. "And even that was . . . not what I would call restful." A pause. "I can't stop thinking about it." He was not looking at Cody as he spoke, and that gave him courage to elaborate. "We lost good men on this mission. And . . . it was all for nothing."

"The mission was a success," Cody pointed out. "The goal was to get the coordinates for the Nexus route. We did that."

Rex leaned his elbows on his knees and stared at the floor. "Dodger was in the battalion before I even came onboard. He was steady. He had a good sense of humor. The men liked him. He lived longer than most clones once they step foot on the battlefield. I never thought he'd die doing something like this . . . it was just a bad step, a slip. I always imagined he'd meet his end under a barrage of enemy fire . . . that he'd sacrifice his life for the sake of a shinie. That's the kind of death he deserved."

Cody let him stew in his own words for a few seconds. "And Echo? What kind of death did he deserve?"

Rex's jaw tightened. "He didn't deserve any kind of death. He shouldn't have died." He sounded very close to angry. "He shouldn't have run out there. He had to know that he didn't stand a chance." He tensed, and then his breath trailed out of him in a long, slow sigh. "Why Echo? Why did it have to be him?"

"Are you surprised?" Cody asked in his usual calm, thoughtful manner. "That's the kind of man he was."

"I know, but . . . I feel . . . more responsible for him. I brought him into the 501st. I made him an ARC trooper. I've put him on the most dangerous missions. Maybe I expected too much." Rex laced his fingers together. "Echo was one of the best men I've ever known – not just as a soldier, but as a person. I just . . . should have done more."

Cody was very quiet. "What more could you have done?"

"I could have gone out to him," Rex replied. "I could have checked to—to—make sure . . ."

"Rex—"

"I started to, but Commander Tano pulled me back," Rex went on. "I know she did the right thing. I mean, I saw him—what—what was left of him—on the platform. It was an instinct to run towards him." A pause. "It was a stupid thing to do."

"Yes, it was," Cody agreed. "You would have been gunned down. And that would truly have made Echo's death pointless."

"It's pointless, anyway."

"Echo died trying to save the rest of us," Cody countered. "That's got to count for something. If nothing else, you won't forget that kind of selfless act. It'll make you a better man."

"I thought I was already the best," Rex replied, not in a joking manner but almost in a self-accusatory way.

"In a lot of areas," Cody said. "Others still require some work." He let a few moments of silence go by before broaching the next subject. "There is one thing that remains to be seen." When Rex looked askance at him, he went on. "How Echo's loss is going to affect Fives."

Rex grimaced. That very thought had crossed his mind, as well.

"That's hard to say," he replied. "Echo was the balance to Fives. He kept him level, kept him from getting too deep inside his own head."

"You mean, like you're doing now?" Cody asked with just enough lightness to keep Rex from taking offense. "You're dwelling on this."

"Yeah . . . "

"You can't save them all, Rex. Not even the Jedi can do that. Not even General Skywalker."

"I know that," Rex replied with gravity. "But I at least have to try to save the ones I can."

"You couldn't save Echo. It was already too late."

Rex turned and regarded his friend with an expression that bespoke the understanding between them, the understanding that either could confide in the other with the confidence that their impartings would not be shared.

"You don't have to worry about saving someone if you can prevent them from being in danger in the first place."

Cody was somewhat bemused by this odd answer. "That may be true, but it plays no part in our lives. We were created to go into danger. How would you ever hope to prevent it?"

"By ending the war."

Cody hesitated a moment before answering, "We don't hold those keys."

At that moment, Fives entered the room. He did not greet his first-in-command. He did not greet Commander Cody. Instead, he walked to a chair several seats over and sat down without speaking and keeping his eyes averted.

Not a good sign.

Generals Kenobi and Skywalker entered the briefing room just as the holo-technician pulled up Generals Yoda and Windu. Commander Tano entered with her master and took a seat beside Rex. Captain Tarkin entered last and stood beside General Skywalker – an action which did not go unnoticed by Rex. Or Ahsoka.

General Windu began the briefing with an expression of condolence. "Let me start by saying how much we all feel the tragic loss of General Piell. He was an honorable Jedi and a great leader."

Rex might not have wanted to be ungrateful, but he still could not see Piell as honorable or great, and certainly not a leader. But it made the captain feel small to think such unsolicitous things, and so he forced himself to focus on the rest of Windu's speech.

"He did everything he could to protect the coordinates to the Nexus Route, and because of his ability to resist the enemy, those coordinates are safe and in the hands of the Republic," Windu went on. "He will be missed. May he become one with the Force."

From there, the briefing proceeded per usual. Every aspect of the operation was addressed and dissected. And from Rex's perspective, it was not a pretty evaluation of events.

"The plan was sound," Obi-wan stated at one point. "What we were not expecting was that we would have more than one rescue. We thought we only had to find and extract Master Piell. When we found out that he had given half the information to Captain Tarkin, we had a second rescue to undertake. That did throw things into chaos."

"It didn't help that we had only old, archived schematics to go from," Anakin put forth. "Sobeck had upgraded and replace a lot of systems. The place was monitored almost from top to bottom."

For nearly four hours, the mission was looked at from every possible angle.

Finally, General Windu began to wind things up. "Any alibis? Is there anything anyone wants to add?"

It was then that Fives, who had sat stone-faced and speechless during the entire briefing, stood up. "I have something I want to say."

Rex's muscles tensed involuntarily.

"I mourned General Piell's death, as well," Fives began in a tightly controlled voice. "For the two minutes we had before Sobeck's droids were all over us again . . . I mourned him. But he wasn't the only one who died down there." The muscle in jaw was visibly trembling from the exertion of holding himself together. "My brothers died. My last remaining squad mate died. My closest friend." A pause. "So, I'm going to be blunt about my thoughts on this mission. It wasn't worth it. It was ill-conceived and poorly reconned. And the Nexus route will only be useful until the Separatists figure it out, and then we have to find another way to get our supplies from point A to point B." He spared a glance at his captain, then his general. "I'd fight to death to defend the Republic. But . . . I'd at least like to know that the gain is worth the cost."

With that he took a seat.

An awkward silence ensued during which Rex allowed his gaze to drift towards General Skywalker. And there, he saw everything he needed to settle his own mind.

Without saying a word, without even the tilt of his head, General Skywalker somehow managed to convey that he was on Fives' side. He was on the side of his troops, his clones, his soldiers. He was the true leader that every general should be. He was the Jedi who shared common cause with his men and would go to the ends of the galaxy to fight alongside them. And if need be, he would die with them – and be proud to fall by their sides.

General Windu spoke at last. "The loss of clone life is always terrible. Whether it's thousands on the battlefield or a handful on a mission like this. You're right, ARC Trooper Fives. We can't forget the sacrifices our clone troopers make. But they, too, died for the cause of victory and peace. The Nexus Route will enable the Republic to get an upper hand in this war and hopefully bring it to a quicker end, saving the lives of countless people, including your brothers."

"The sooner plotted the coordinates are, the sooner put to use they will be. Debrief Captain Tarkin and Commander Tano separately, we shall."

At this, Captain Tarkin replied, "With all due respect, Master Jedi, I was instructed by Chancellor Palpatine to bring the intel directly to him for debriefing."

Ahsoka did not let a breath go by. "I promised Master Piell I would deliver it only to the Council. And that's what I will do."

Again, the room fell silent at this impasse.

At length, Yoda sighed. "Personally meet with the chancellor, I will. Decide how to solve this problem, we shall." A pause. "The debriefing is concluded."

No sooner had the holo-connection been terminated than Anakin turned to his padawan. He spoke in a low voice. "You shouldn't have made that promise, Ahsoka."

Ahsoka was not deterred. "I was the one there, Master. It was my decision to make."

"You weren't even supposed to be on the mission," Anakin reminded her with a quiet intensity that made his displeasure abundantly clear. "Now, you want to dictate its success? I'm telling you right now, Ahsoka, the only reason we went on that mission was to get that information. One way or another, the two pieces are going to come together. Otherwise, the deaths of the men we lost will be meaningless. I'm not going to let that happen."

"Why should I have to be the one to break my word?" Ahsoka replied with equal vehemence. "Let Captain Tarkin give his part of the information to the Council."

"Why? Because Captain Tarkin is a senior officer. You are a padawan learner who thinks she can take things into her own hands and question authority, no matter who it comes from." He paused at the sight of Rex and Cody leaving the room, Fives and Bounce trailing behind them. And it was not the first time something made his blood boil. He looked once more at Ahsoka. "The battalion paid a heavy price on this mission. Two of our best men – dead. And the only survivor from the 212th contingent is Bounce. I'm not about to let petty territorial squabbles bring this whole thing to a stand-still. And I'm disappointed that you would even consider being part of such a thing." He began heading for the exit.

"Master!" Ahsoka called out as she started after him, but a gentle arm held her back.

"Let him go, child."

Master Plo.

"But he's being unreasonable," she began. She was speaking to Plo Koon but her eyes were on Anakin's back as he left the room. "He has to know that I can't break a promise. And—and I serve the Council, not the Chancellor—"

"We all serve the Chancellor, Ahsoka," Plo corrected in his easy, matter-of-fact way. "But your master's anger has nothing to do with that. I believe he shares the ARC trooper's assessment of the mission, and he feels his men were put at unnecessary risk. He wants to make sure their deaths are not in vain."

Ahsoka faced him sadly. "Do you think I should give the information to the Chancellor? I'd be breaking my promise to Master Piell."

"I don't believe it will come to that. You must give the information to the Council, and the Council must give it to the Chancellor. We are his generals, not his superiors. We serve at his pleasure."

Ahsoka frowned. It was sound, solid advice. And it was the truth. "Very well, Master Plo. At least that way, I'll be keeping my word."

"In the meantime, you need to make amends to your master," Plo told her. "I fear I may have been wrong in not discouraging you from stealing aboard for this mission. It turns out that I've put you in an awkward position."

"I can handle it—"

"It's not a matter of handling it, little 'Soka," Plo said solemnly. "It's about doing the right thing. It's always about doing the right thing."

Rex and Cody slowed down to let Fives and Bounce catch up with them.

"You okay, Fives?" Rex inquired.

Instead of giving an answer to the question, Fives replied, "I hope I wasn't too out-of-line in there, Captain. I hope I didn't get you or the general in trouble."

"You gave your opinion," Rex replied. "I agreed with a lot of what you had to say." A subtle glance told Cody that Rex would like to be alone with his trooper. Cody took the hint and moved off with Bounce towards the squadron areas.

Rex began walking slowly. Fives walked beside him.

The captain began speaking directly and without the fluff of so many other officers. "I was proud of him. He was one smart meermet – too smart for his own good, sometimes. Bringing the two of you into the 501st was one of the best decisions I ever made."

Fives was stoically silent.

Rex went on. "It doesn't surprise me he died doing something like that. He was a risk-taker."

At this, Fives interjected in a soft voice. "He didn't used to be. He used to do everything by the book, and that meant there wasn't any room for taking risks." A pause. "Hevy taught him how to take a chance, how to fly by the seat of his pants. It cost him his life this time."

"It was a courageous thing to do—"

"No, it wasn't. It was-he didn't give it any thought," Fives countered, and a trickle of anger weaved through his voice. "There was no way they were going to let him get to the shuttle. They weren't going to let any of us get to it. He should have known better."

They continued walking without speaking for nearly a half a minute before Fives said with a sense of finality, "I'm the only one left. It's just me now."

And even though Rex understood what he meant, as his captain, he had to try and bolster his spirits and point out the obvious. "You may have lost your squad mates, but you have a battalion of brothers who are still there to back you up and check your six."

Fives nodded slightly.

"It's not the same, I know," Rex went on. "But it's a future we all face. We don't live long lives. Eventually, there will always be only one left."

"Well, then let me say that I would have rather gone first, because this 'last man standing' osik . . . it doesn't feel good. Echo was a better man than me. He should be here. Not me."

"It doesn't work like that," Rex stated. "We'd all give our lives to save our brothers. But we can't bargain our way with fate."

"I'm not sure I believe that, Captain," Fives replied. "I would hope—I would really hope that we have some kind of control over our lives and our futures. Because . . . even if no one else gave a damn about Echo, I did. And I'm not going to let his death be a waste."

"A lot of us cared about Echo," Rex pointed out, but Fives was quick to interject.

"Yeah . . . but not everybody. And after today, he's just going to be one more clone that died along the way to peace. Huh, if peace ever comes."

There was so much tension roiling beneath the surface, Rex could feel it reaching out and crawling over his skin. Five was giving a good external appearance, holding it together for the most part, expressing his concerns and dissatisfaction with control. But Rex was not fooled. The veneer would not stand, could not stand.

The only question was, when would it finally crack into pieces?