Dear Reader,

First, thank you to my reviewers: Akira-Hayama, Sued13, princess-rey-tano, MrSheepy, CT7567Rules, and Cuthalion97. Ah, I am sorry to say that, despite requests to not kill off Fives, I stayed with the series on this one. That's one reason why this is a fairly short chapter. Writing Fives' death (and watching it over and over again on the TV to make sure I got the dialogue and details correct) is a very emotionally draining endeavor! I devoted a lot of this chapter to Rex's thoughts leading up to, during, and after Fives' demise. Sad as it is, I hope you will enjoy reading. Peace, CS

Chapter 118 Nightmare's End

"On the wind, soaring free,
spread your wings, I'm beginning to see.
Out of mind, far from view,
beyond the reach of the nightmare come true."

New Horizons
Justin Hayward

Rex's quarters aboard the Justice were small and sparsely furnished. Utilitarian, for space aboard combat vessels was at a premium. Still, the room was nice enough. Being a first-in-command had its privileges, one of which was a private room.

Rex had put up no adornments, nothing to speak to his personality or interests. Unlike his quarters aboard the Resolute, where he'd put out a scant few accumulated items, all of which had been destroyed in the Resolute's fiery demise, the Justice had a sense of transitory passing. The Resolute had been a home. The Justice was a vessel on which he was catching a ride to the war's end, however long that ride might be.

It was also one of the few places where Rex felt he could get away from prying eyes and listening ears.

When he received Kix and Jesse into his quarters, it was nearing midnight.

"Kix, you said you had something to tell me," the captain began right away.

"Captain . . . I saw Fives," Kix replied.

"Where?" Rex's voice belied the urgency he felt, though his manner was as placid as always.

"At 79s," Kix answered. "He told me he wants to meet with you and General Skywalker, and he gave me coordinates."

"When did he say he wanted to meet?"

"He didn't, Sir. But I got the impression he was headed for that location as soon as he left," Kix replied.

"What are the coordinates?"

"I can transfer them to you," Kix said, and he began the process even as he spoke.

A moment later, Rex was examining the coordinates on his HOPO. "These are down in the lowest levels," he sighed. "Did he say anything else?"

Here, Kix took a moment to choose his words carefully. "He isn't well, Captain. He . . . was going on about a conspiracy from the highest levels. He said . . . he said we're all in danger, even the Jedi."

"A conspiracy . . . to do what?" Rex inquired.

"I don't know, Sir. He didn't say. He just said he was mixed up in something, and he had to tell you and General Skywalker about it," Kix frowned. "He looked . . . and sounded like a man who's losing his mind, who's given over to paranoia." A pause. "Captain, if you and the General go to meet him, be wary. He's not acting like the Fives we know. He's . . . I think he could be dangerous."

Rex nodded once. "Thanks, Kix."

"Captain, if you and General Skywalker do decide to go meet him, I think it would be best if Kix and I came along," Jesse put forth. "You may need some additional security."

Rex gave a wan smile as he placed a hand on Jesse's shoulder. "I'll have General Skywalker with me. What more security do I need?"

If Rex had had doubts about the truth of the Chancellor's account before, he now was finding it difficult to maintain those doubts.

Rex trusted Kix. The medic was not prone to exaggeration. If Kix posited paranoia and delusion as part of Fives' predicament, then Rex had no reason to doubt him.

He just could not figure out how Fives had gone from an all-together trooper at Ringo Vinda to the man being portrayed now. The news about an inhibitor chip had, granted, come as a shock—verging on insult—to Rex. The very idea that he and his brothers had all had this thing implanted in order to curb their aggressive tendencies and make them more obedient. He found it exceedingly difficult to accept the idea that he and the millions of men with whom he shared the Fett DNA were prone to violence or disobedience. Jango Fett might have been a bounty hunter, but from all Rex knew of him, he'd been a man who'd kept his actions well-regulated. He'd never sought out violence for its own sake. He'd used only the degree of force necessary to take his quarry and procure his bounties.

It seemed, to Rex, that an inhibitor chip was both unnecessary and an indication of . . . distrust.

But right now, he could not afford to give much thought to the matter. The inhibitor chip was relevant, at this moment, only insofar as its removal might have contributed to Fives' recent delusional behavior.

"Delusional behavior . . . "

The words pierced Rex right through his armor, taking aim at his heart.

This.

This was the very reason he had so diligently maintained the wall of separation between the leadership of his men and any sign of emotional attachment to them.

It was staring him in the face right now.

Fives.

Fives, whom he had plucked up from the ashes of the Rishi Moon. Fives, who, along with Echo, had brought so much skill and energy with them into the 501st. Fives, whose rousing speech during the battle of Kamino, had surprised everyone – Rex, most of all. Fives, who had never recovered from the loss of Echo, his last remaining squad mate, and who, in truth, had never recovered from the loss of Hevy, Cutup and Droid Bait, yet who somehow managed to parlay those losses into an ability to excel in the ranks of the ARC troopers.

Fives, who had caused him grief and frustration to no end but had realized, on his own, that he must remove himself from the 501st if he were to move forward. Fives, the thorn in his side on Umbara.

And now, Fives . . . a man in deep trouble, out of touch with reality, and hurtling towards disaster, unless Rex could find a way to stop him.

It occurred to Rex, not without some bitterness, that his own distancing from his troops could be, in part, to blame. Could he have been a stronger mentor to Fives? Could he have done more to ease his suffering after Echo's death? Might he have been a better first-in-command if he had reached out at the first sign of trouble instead of immediately deciding that Fives could better get over the loss in a different unit?

Fives had been Rex's own personal recruit into the 501st. A trooper with skill and wits and daring that surpassed even many a veteran's skills.

Rex could not help but wonder, had he let Fives down?

Perhaps he had. But here was a chance to make things right. Here was a chance to draw Fives back from the precipice, to help fix whatever was ailing him.

The chance for Rex to open the cob-webbed shutters of his own heart and be to his men what he had long been afraid to show them.

"We need to approach him carefully, Rex."

General Skywalker's voice snapped Rex out of his inner dialogue.

"If he's suffering these delusions, he may decide that we're in on it," Anakin went on.

"Well . . . he asked for you and me specifically to meet him, so I'm hoping that means he still trusts us," Rex replied. "But, if he's as bad as Kix says, he could turn against us, decide we're the enemy, too."

"Exactly," Anakin agreed. "He knows and trusts you more than he trusts anyone else, Rex. You have to try and get him to come with us, but . . . you understand that we might have to take actions to subdue him."

"I understand that, General."

"We're not going to hurt him," Anakin continued. "But he might try to hurt us, and then we have to stop him."

"Understood, Sir."

And it was understood. By both of them. General Skywalker's use of the Force could make quick work of anything Fives could throw at them, and likely do it with as little injury as possible.

Still, Rex had a sense of foreboding that he could not shake.

"Just give me one more chance to help him. He deserves better than to be left to this." He did not know of whom he was imploring. At that moment, he wished to the high heavens that he had Doma Maree's faith. He wished he even shared her beliefs, anything to give him some reassurance that things happened the way they were supposed to.

General Skywalker lowered their ship outside a large warehouse that had the look of being well beyond its prime but might still be in use . . . by the likes of whom was a question Rex did not want to contemplate. These was the darkest depths of Coruscant, the criminal underworld to a large extent. There were threats in the hidden recesses of these levels that went far beyond one delusional clone.

General Skywalker was out of the cockpit before the engines had even powered down. "Well, these are the coordinates Kix gave us. Let's hope Fives is inside."

"I hope he knows what he's doing," Rex replied, sounding clearly troubled. In an inexplicable way, the closer he drew to the presumed rendez-vous, the more doubtful he grew. Images of Tup murdering General Tiplar began to force their way to the forefront of his thoughts. What if Fives was trying to lure General Skywalker into a trap in order to do the same thing? If he was suffering from the same virus as Tup, there was no telling what he might do. Rex had to be on his guard.

Apparently, General Skywalker must have had the same idea, for the moment they entered the warehouse, he drew his lightsaber and ignited the blade.

It was a dark, dismal place with a high ceiling that reached away into blackness. Freight containers were stacked in haphazard piles. Trash littered the floor. Air vents trailed filament strands of particle dust that looked like alien creatures. The entire feel was one of bleakness and suspicion. It was a not a good place.

"Fives? We're here," General Skywalker announced loudly. "Come on out. We just want to talk to you."

After several seconds of silence, there came a return voice. "General Skywalker, thank you. Thank you for trusting me." The voice was Fives', and it reverberated around them. "Have you come without troops?"

Anakin and Rex both stopped where they stood, surveying the area, trying to find the location from where the voice emanated; but in the echo chamber of the warehouse, it was impossible to pinpoint it.

"We have," General Skywalker replied.

"Put down your weapons then!"

"I don't think so, Fives," the general declined.

"Please, Sir! Please . . . I'm unarmed."

Anakin glanced over his shoulder at his captain. Rex did not look convinced that he thought disarming was a good idea. But he would follow General Skywalker's lead. When the general doused his light saber, that was Rex's cue.

Reluctantly, he strode over to one of the shipping containers. "Alright, I'm setting my pistols down."

Slowly, cautiously, they began moving through the warehouse again.

"What are we here for, Fives?" General Skywalker asked, perhaps a whiff of impatience detectable in his voice.

"I need your help," came the disembodied reply.

"I know you do. We know you're not well. It's been rough for you these past couple days," Anakin said, doing his best to sound compassionate despite the circumstances.

"I'm not crazy!"

Yet, the way in which the assertion was shouted out, the maniacal edge in the voice, gave the exact opposite impression and increased the level of unease even more.

"Please-please! Just—just—just hear what I have to say . . . "

They could hear the sound of his labored breathing bouncing off the dura-steel walls.

"We're here to help you, Fives. Just come with us," the general offered. "Let us take you back to the temple."

Suddenly, a swirling shaft of light reached down from the ceiling, engulfing the two men. They both recognized it immediately as a containment field, the type used during irradiation of suspected hazardous cargo.

"No!" General Skywalker cried out angrily, pounding his fist on the invisible prison. Now, all bets were off. He'd agreed to come meet Fives, to hear him out. He'd fully intended on getting Fives whatever medical help he needed, as well as getting to the bottom of whatever was going on with inhibitor chips and their effect on the clone army. But the lack of trust being directed back at him now only seemed to confirm what the reports had been all along: that Fives was suffering from some kind of mental breakdown after removing his own chip.

Entrapped beside him, Rex could feel his general's anger. And he could tell that the anger was not just a result of getting caught in the containment field; it came from being distrusted. It came from feeling that, despite the general's best efforts, Fives still did not have faith in him to help.

"I just need you to listen to me . . . please," Fives begged, at last stepping out of the darkness.

The man who emerged was a shadow of the Fives they both knew. Pale, gaunt. Shaven head. Wide, staring eyes. Staggering. Wavering. Barely in control of his movements.

"I'm not really sure we have any other choice," General Skywalker replied in a tone of voice that warned Rex the general was reaching his limit of accommodation.

"I was framed . . . because I know the truth." The desperation in Fives' voice was disconcerting. "The truth about a plot . . . a massive deception."

Rex took a step forward within his prison. "By who?" he inquired, mirroring some of General Skywalker's frustration.

Fives ignored the question and continued as if he'd not even heard Rex. " . . . with a sinister plot to turn us against the Jedi! I have proof of it!" He insisted, growing more agitated with every word. "I can prove that everything I know is true beyond the shadow of a doubt!"

Anakin was not moved. He stood with arms folded tightly across his chest, unconvinced that he was hearing anything other than the ravings of a man who'd lost his grip on reality. "Show me the evidence," he demanded.

"The . . . evidence is . . . in here," Fives answered falteringly, pointing his fingers to his head. "It's-it's in here. It's in all of us! Every clone . . . "

"What is it?" Rex pressed, his own impatience pushing through.

"Organic chips . . . built into our genetic code," Fives said, his voice falling to little more than a whisper as he leaned his body against the wall for support. "To make us do whatever someone wants . . . even kill the Jedi. It's all in here."

This was too much.

Anakin looked askance at his captain, but there was no help to be found there.

For the first time, Rex felt at a complete loss.

Fives had gone mad. He was completely and utterly delusional. What was going on in his head that he could have concocted such a far-fetched story? Rex had nothing to offer, no counsel, no words of advice. He hardly knew the man spluttering at them with the words of a lunatic.

And Anakin, seeing that Rex was short for words, tried one last time. "Let's just get you some help first, then we can review everything. It'll be okay, Fives. We'll sort this out."

Fives glared back at them, then like a volcano, erupted with a violent cry. "You don't believe me!"

There was something frightening in that voice, something that told Rex that Fives was only seconds from going over the edge completely and irretrievably. Something terrible was going to happen if they could not get through to him.

"Fives, we are listening to you," he insisted, anxious to do anything to avert what he was sure could only lead to disaster. "We only want to help."

"How do I know you're not tricking me? How do I know it won't be a trap?" Fives challenged, moving to stand right outside the containment field.

Now, at this close range, Rex could see the derangement.

But he could also see the young trooper – the Shinie – he'd plucked up from Rishi. He could see the daring, battle-seasoned leader on Kamino. The ARC trooper. The other half to Echo. The brother for which Echo would have done anything. All of those iterations were still there, hidden and struggling beneath the madman who had taken over.

There had to be something they could do to help him.

Fives continued on his tirade. "The Chancellor was trying to kill me! I promise you that!"

"Stop. Just stop talking, Fives. Let us help you. Saying these things isn't going to help your case," Rex lamented silently.

Anakin, however, was not silent.

"The Chancellor?"

"He's in on it!" Fives blurted out. "I don't know to what extent, but I know he orchestrated much of this! He told me in the medical bay!"

Rex could feel the general's ire rising in the confined space. Implicating the Chancellor to General Skywalker was not a good idea.

"He told you? When you tried to assassinate him?!" Anakin challenged. "You've gone too far, Fives. The Chancellor is incapable of what you claim."

"He is!" Fives shouted, gesturing wildly. "I swear to you, you have no idea—"

"Stand down, Soldier!"

Suddenly, there emerged from the darkness, a team of the Coruscant Guard. They were led by the CG Commander himself, Commander Fox. It was he who had given the order.

As Fives turned, Fox repeated the command. "Stand down! Down on your knees!"

Fives, wide-eyed and in a panic, refused. "No! No! Stay back!" A glance to his left showed him Rex's pistols, still on the shipping crate.

Rex saw the glance and he berated himself for leaving the pistols so accessible. He should have just holstered them instead of setting them down.

Fox also saw the glance, and he knew instinctively what Fives was contemplating. "Don't do it! Don't do it, Soldier!"

"Stay away from me!" Fives cried out, reaching for the weapons.

"Fives, no!" Rex shouted.

But it was too late.

Commander Fox was a marksman. The shot entered at chest level. Center shot.

The horrible acrid smell of burnt armor and burnt flesh rose into the air.

Fives, gasping in pain, fell to the floor.

To Rex, there descended the strange dichotomy of time standing still, while seeming to pass faster than ever before. He pounded against the containment field. "Fives! Fives!"

"Get this ray shield off!" Anakin demanded, to which one of Commander Fox's troops fired a single shot at the generator.

The shield dissipated.

Rex dropped down to one knee. "Fives . . . Brother," he said in a quiet, contained voice, but seeing the location of the shot, everything in his body tightened, and he shouted at Fox's men. "Call for help! We need a medic!"

"Rex," Fives choked out, his voice coming between gasps.

"Fives." Rex put his hand on his shoulder and leaned closer.

"This . . . is bigger than any of us, than anything I . . . could have imagined." A pause. "I . . . I never meant to . . . " With the strength that comes of a man recognizing his final moments, he drew himself up to where he could whisper into his captain's ear. The only captain he would ever claim as his own. The only reason he'd not gone renegade a long time ago. The only example he'd ever wanted to follow and to whom he could never live up. "I only wanted to do my duty."

Rex grimaced at this confession, the truth behind the entirety of Fives' brief life. This was not something Rex wanted to hear at this moment. He could not bear to hear it. It was an admission of defeat, an acknowledgment that the end was near. And as Fives' energy failed him, as he slid back down towards the floor, Rex's attempts to hold onto him – physically and mentally – could not stand.

"Fives—stay with me, Fives," the immovable captain pleaded. "Fives!"

"The mission . . . the nightmares . . . " Fives raised his eyes to regard his captain one last time. And as if to offer a measure of solace, he whispered in a voice that seemed reconciled with death, anticipatory of peace, "They're finally over."

But they weren't over for Rex.

"Fives . . . no, Fives. Come on, Fives." Rex shook him gently. "Don't go, come on, Fives. Stay with me. Stay with me . . . " Rex knew the look of death. It was facing him now. "No . . . oh, no," he moaned, giving in to the truth. Fives was dead.

Anakin looked on. To his surprise, he found his heart breaking – but not for Fives. Certainly, he felt sadness over Fives' death, but the aching he felt in his heart was on behalf of his captain. He'd never seen Rex this distraught. He wasn't even sure he'd imagined his captain capable of feeling such anguish.

While the others looked on, Rex stayed kneeling down. It seemed to him that everyone and everything else had faded into the background. He'd come here to help Fives, and now he was kneeling beside a dead soldier. He'd started off with hope. There was no more reason to hope. In the silence of these few seconds, he could only tell Fives, in the sanctity of his own thoughts, how sorry he was that he'd failed him.

He felt the gentle weight of his general's hand on his back. He could always tell when it was General Skywalker; he could feel the power of the Force in even the most innocuous touch, such as the touch of comfort, even through the protective layer of armor.

"I'm sorry, Rex."

He recognized the words, the gesture as a sharing in his own grief, a tacit acknowledgment that any display of emotion would be understandable. This was not the battlefield, where mourning and sorrow were necessarily delayed until the danger had passed. This was the end of a pursuit. The threat had been eliminated and now lay there on the ground, but Rex could not reconcile what he saw with the idea of a threat at all.

In that moment, all the plans for making it up to Fives were gone. The chance to make things right. The opportunity to take everything that had occurred since the Rishi Moon and recast them in the manner of leadership that had not be proffered at the time.

Gone.

Gone from the moment of Fives' last breath.

In truth, gone long before that. This desire to make amends, the yearning to turn back time and undo any mistakes of the past . . . this was nothing more than wishful thinking. The need to clear a guilty conscience.

"No. There's no room for this. There's no going back. You can only focus on moving forward."

He leaned back on his heels, firmed his jaw, and returned to the same place he always did. Professional. Detached. Ready to forge ahead.

"Kix was right," he said quietly. "He was sick. I didn't find out in time."

Crouched down beside him, Anakin eyed his captain with a knowing expression. Rex had, for a long time, thought that his cool exterior was fooling those around him. Yet, that had never been the case. The coerced composure and stoicism belied the very emotions they were meant to hide. It was something Anakin had never fully understood about Rex; why the forced emotional distancing from his troops, when everyone – everyone – knew that Rex's attachment and devotion to his men were unsurpassed. He recalled that Commander Cody had, on several occasions, named himself as the reason behind the peculiar character trait; some words spoken at ARC training had been taken perhaps a bit too strongly to heart. An admonition to exercise caution had been interpreted as a mandate to alter a behavior.

The imperturbable collectedness now on display was something with which Anakin was keenly familiar. But its appearance, following so quickly on the heels of the pain just exhibited, did come as a bit of a surprise. Though, perhaps it shouldn't have. Rex was the stalwart. He would keep his suffering to himself.

"You did everything you could, Rex. We all did," Anakin said in an effort to reassure.

Rex rose to his feet. "It's done now."

Anakin would not ask him if he was alright. Not here, not in front of Commander Fox and his men. Rex would take any such show of a concern as a sign of weakness. Instead, he opted for a less obvious expression of sympathy.

"Why don't you head back to the Justice and start your report on what happened," he suggested. "I'll stay here until they come get him."

"No, General." Rex was quietly adamant. "He was my Soldier. This is my responsibility. It's the last . . . official action I can do as his captain. I'll stay."

Anakin understood and nodded once. "Then I'll go and make my report to the Jedi Council . . . even though I imagine they'll hear of it before I get there. I'll see you back onboard Rex."

"Thank you, General."

After the General had left, the situation was one of awkwardness. Only Rex, Commander Fox, and the commander's detail remained. No one was sure what should be said, if anything.

But Rex did not let the moment last very long. He spoke to no one in particular. "Is someone on the way to get him?"

One of the CG soldiers answered, "Yes, Sir. I put in the call as soon as you asked for a medic. They, uh . . . they shouldn't be too long."

Rex nodded. He strode slowly over to Commander Fox.

"Commander Fox . . . you did what you had to do."

This was not what Fox had been expecting. Upon Rex's approach, he'd braced himself for what he anticipated would be rage and accusation, hatred and belligerence. But the words just spoken were an indicator of the quality of the man who had spoken them, and Commander Fox wanted Rex to know he appreciated it.

He removed his helmet, a rare public occurrence. Commander Fox had always struck Rex as the pinnacle in military appearance and bearing. He wore a high and tight, the standard dark brown. He had an angular, stylist fox head tattoo over his left eye. He was one of those aberrations in the template that had developed blue-green eyes and a seeming narrowness in his face that gave him a hawk-like appearance. His countenance, when Rex had seen it, was mostly stern and serious. He was soft-spoken but with a confidence and authority that needed no volume. The two of them had had disagreements before. Authority clashing against authority. But Fox held the superior rank, and Coruscant was his charge. He could afford to be merciful, accommodating, and forgiving. He could afford to speak his mind. And that, he did.

"I'm sorry, Rex. Truly, I'm sorry."

Rex drew close and lowered his voice. "Just tell me one thing. Who gave the order to set weapons to kill instead of stun?"

A brief flash of dread crossed Fox's face. He glanced at his men. They were all pretending not to hear, but he knew they had. He walked several steps towards the entrance of the warehouse, out of earshot.

"The order came directly from the Chancellor," he revealed.

Rex narrowed his eyes. "When you say 'directly', do you—"

"From his lips to my ears," Fox replied. A sigh trailed out of him. "There is no one between the Chancellor and me anymore, Rex. If he wants something done, he'll tell me himself. I'm one hundred percent loyal to him. I do as he tells me." A pause. "Even when I disagree."

Rex could not fault him. "That's what we're conditioned to do." He thought back to his own unwavering obedience to General Krell, despite his disagreement with so many of the general's decisions, and what it had taken to finally break that spell. His thoughts then turned to his own general's esteem for the Chancellor. "Chancellor Palpatine is a great leader. It . . . wouldn't be . . . fitting to disobey a direct order from him," he allowed, struggling to find the right words, and not fully satisfied with his success at that.

Fox's silence told Rex that there was an unspoken disagreement with what he had just said, but both men knew better than to pursue the subject.

In many ways, Rex admired Fox. The commander had what was, undoubtedly, one of the hardest jobs in the GAR. Dealing with politicians and diplomats was not what Rex considered to be a plum assignment. Yet, Fox excelled at it. He was one of the most decorated officers in the GAR, and despite all he had to put up with, he was down-to-earth and genuine. Commander Stone spoke very highly of him, and Rex held Stone's opinion in the highest regard; their time together in ARC training had cemented a fast friendship. There were few troopers Rex held in higher esteem than Stone. Cody was one of them. Colt had been one . . .

"Were you there when he attacked the Chancellor?" Rex asked.

Again, he could see a hint of discomfort in Fox's eyes.

"I was not. Several of my men were there."

"What happened?"

Fox glanced back at his men. "This isn't the time," he said quietly.

Rex nodded. "Before the 501st leaves Coruscant?"

"I'll see if my schedule permits it," came the carefully noncommittal answer. "Here comes the emergency squad. We should . . . take care of him. Again, I—I'm sorry, Rex."

And Rex knew he was hearing the truth.

Just a couple notes: So, this sequence in the series has two of my favorite "Rex" moments. When he steps forward in the warehouse and demands, "By who?" Okay, something very masculine about that moment. And then only a few seconds later, after Fives starts telling about the plot, you see Rex rubbing the back of his neck as if he can't believe what he's hearing yet he doesn't know what to do about it. I think it's so well done by Filoni and team to go from "stand up and assert myself" to "What the hell is going on here" and ultimately to the closest we've ever seen Rex come to breaking a tear. Brilliant.

Second note: I've been hard on Fives through most of the story, but it was all leading up to this moment. Because when I first saw Rex's reaction to Fives' death, I remember thinking, "I wonder if there's any feelings of there on Rex's part?" I sort of liked that idea and have weaved this story together so that when Fives finally did die, there might be some interesting mental turmoil to explore.

Last note: a lot of folks don't like Fox and paint him as a bad guy. I've taken a different tack with him. I like to portray him as an extremely efficient officer who is maybe one step beyond Rex when it comes to following orders. A good guy serving bad leaders.