Dear Reader,
First and foremost, a thank-you to my reviewers: Sued13, Shadowlight17, ChristinaTM, princess-rey-tano, ichkak, Suffering Soldier, Ms CT-782, Cuthalion97, Writingfan27, and LongLiveTheClones. It warms my heart to know folks are still enjoying the story. Maybe some day, I'll actually hit 1,000 reviews! For a story that's almost 700,000 words, that's 1 review per 700 words. I'll be satisfied with that! lol! So, this chapter is a "winding down" before we move into the Bad Batch arc. In response to Cuthalion's question, I skip over the Kadavo arc. I've kind of already written Ahsoka out of the story (an error that I will fix when I do a final revision - 10 years from now, probably!). And I am very anxious to get back to my original plotline leading towards the climax of the story. As I've said before, I like taking arcs from the series and writing them, but sometimes it's hard to keep them interesting, because we all know what happens. Giving the reader new insights into the characters and filling some of the "off-screen" blanks is really all a writer can do the series arcs. But I am so very grateful that you, dear readers, have given me positive feedback on those chapters. I chose the series arcs that I felt had the greatest impact on Rex's development as a character and/or illustrated his relationship with Anakin.
There are a few "winks" and "nods" in this chapter, meant to drive home the importance of the clones' relationships, harkening back to events in previous chapters. Since I don't expect most readers remember what happened back in chapter 8 or 10 or 99 (heck, even I don't remember), I wanted to put out gentle reminders of how these men feel about each other and how they feel about themselves before we move into some heavy action scenes.
Okay, enough self-indulgence. I hope you enjoy!
Peace, CS
Chapter 123 Good-byes
"I know somewhere there's an answer, but it can't tell me what I need to hear, what I need to see. I go over and over the things that you said then walked out of my life. Good-bye is all that comes to me. Good-bye is all I can hear. So long. It seems so long to me now."
Good-bye
Justin Hayward
"Captain Rex, we've been expecting you."
Rex nodded to the guard who had spoken. He was one of a dozen troopers on duty in the control room of the Republic Judiciary Central Detention Center. "Then I take it you know why I'm here."
"Vice Chancellor Amedda sent word earlier," the guard replied. "He said you—or someone from the 501st—would be coming with the confirmation."
Rex held out a small chit.
"Thank you, Sir." A pause as a check was run against the confirmation. "Checks out," he announced. "Do you want us to go get him or do you want someone to take you?"
"Someone can take me," Rex replied.
"Boxer." The first guard motioned to one of his companions. "Take the captain to D-1442."
"Yes, Lieutenant."
As Rex made to leave with Boxer, the lieutenant spoke once more. "We're glad Dogma is getting out. None of us thought he should have been in here in the first place."
"We are in full agreement," Rex replied. He stepped onto the hover platform, which Boxer then piloted into the panopticon. They rose up to the 4th level from the top and docked at a cell marked 1442.
Rex saw the man inside look up, and a feeling of guilt rattled through him. He could not help but think that had he only had the courage to execute Krell himself, Dogma would never have ended up in prison. Dogma had taken out a traitor, an agent of the enemy. And here he was, languishing in a small, sterile cell.
Yet, the saving grace was that Dogma did not look defeated. He gave no indication of being forlorn, hopeless or even remotely discouraged. Perhaps Rex shouldn't have been surprised: he recalled the look of fierce determination on Dogma's face as he'd been led away to face his incarceration. That had been only a few months ago, and Rex was happy that the injustice was short-lived.
Boxer deactivated the barrier, and Rex stepped inside the cell.
Dogma was on his feet, and true to form, assumed a stance of attention. "Captain Rex."
"At ease, Dogma," Rex replied. "Are you alright?"
"Yes, Sir," Dogma said. "The brothers have taken good care of me."
"I'm glad to hear it." A pause. "Are you ready?"
"Ready, Sir?"
His response made it clear that he had no idea he had been given his freedom.
"I'm here to take you with me," Rex said. "Back to the 501st."
Dogma stared at him without speaking.
"You've been exonerated," Rex went on. "Admiral Tarkin finished his investigation and concluded neither you nor I did anything wrong."
Dogma still appeared bewildered. "I . . . he—the admiral—came here and interviewed me."
"Well, he's done with the interviews. He presented his findings to the Chancellor, and the Chancellor ordered you be released. I'm here to take you back to the battalion," Rex said, feeling more satisfaction at this announcement that he had felt in many months.
"I—I . . . yes, Sir. Yes, Sir."
"Do you have any personal belongings you need to get together?"
"Nothing that can't be replaced when I get to the Justice." Dogma cracked a smile. "I'm ready to leave right now."
Less than five minutes later, he emerged from the prison a free man.
"I wish you hadn't had to go through all this," Rex lamented.
"There's no reason for you to be sorry, Sir. You didn't do anything wrong.," Dogma replied, adding with a tinge of excitement, "I can't tell you how good it feels to be out of there, Captain."
"You should never have been in there to begin with," Rex asserted.
Dogma spoke in a voice of humble gratitude. "Thank you for coming to get me. I know you could have sent someone else to pick me up, but I appreciate you coming here yourself."
"It's the least I could do," Rex replied.
They climbed into the speeder Rex had taken from the Justice's fleet of vehicles and began the journey back to the ship.
After a few seconds, Dogma asked, "Does Tup know?"
Rex's heart skipped a beat. It hadn't occurred to him that Dogma might not know about Tup. He now realized there were probably a lot of things Tup wasn't aware of, things that had not yet made it beyond the prison walls.
"Tup is dead, Dogma," he said slowly, somberly.
A long silence ensued. At last, Dogma asked in a subdued voice, "What happened, Sir?"
"We're not completely sure," Rex replied. "Something went wrong in his mind, and he lost control. He murdered General Tiplar in the middle of a battle. He was delusional. He had no idea what he'd done or what was going on around him. We took him to Kamino, but he died there."
Another long hesitation. "Do they know what caused it?"
Rex sighed. This was not something he wanted to delve into, but Dogma was owed an explanation. The matter of the inhibitor chips was now becoming common knowledge.
"We found out that we all – we clones – we all have inhibitor chips implanted in our brains," Rex explained. "They're meant to curb our aggressive tendencies and make up more obedient to our officers. Apparently, Tup's malfunctioned for some reason. The doctors on Kamino think it was from a virus."
Dogma's next question was barely audible. "Did he suffer?"
"It's . . . hard to tell," Rex replied. "He kept saying things like 'good soldiers follow orders', and he seemed to have a hatred for the Jedi all the sudden. I don't know if he felt any pain or was just completely cut off from reality and not feeling anything."
Dogma sat in stoic silence.
Rex decided now was as good a time as any to reveal the rest of the story.
"Fives is dead, too." He went on to give the most basic accounting of Fives' deterioration and ultimate demise, concluding with, "He and Tup were close after you were sent to prison. Tup's death was hard on Fives. I think he got carried away with his own suspicions." He was well aware that Dogma had been mostly at odds with Fives during their brief acquaintance, and he was not sure how he would take the news of Fives' death.
"They became close before I was taken away," Dogma corrected. His voice was spoken in a neutral, observational manner; yet there was an undertone that Rex recognized intrinsically, because it was something he had witnessed many times.
Jealousy.
He could understand Dogma's distaste of Fives' penchant for flouting the rules. He'd known plenty of troopers who had been sticklers for doing things by the book. In fact, Rex considered himself to be one them – although he admittedly wrote his own book, the precepts of which he followed with stony dedication. And he could not fault Dogma for being angry and jealous at the fact that he was being edged out of the friendship he most valued by an ARC trooper who had been only temporarily assigned to the 501st. Before Fives' arrival, Tup and Dogma had been nearly inseparable. They'd been more than squad mates, more than brothers. They'd been each other's rock.
Rex wondered what kind of cosmic justice existed that, as soon as the two men had broken their bond, abandoned their pledge to each other as fighting men, disaster had befallen both of them. It was an interesting thought . . . almost as if a punishment had been imposed upon them for turning their backs on each other. Rex had no idea. He didn't like to think of events in such a metaphysical sense, but he could not hold the idea at bay.
It drove him. It drove him to focus his attention. Recalling Cody's chastisement to mind, he acknowledged that he couldn't change the past. It made no sense to dwell on it. He hadn't been able to help Tup; but now he had the chance to help Dogma. And he could think of no better way to repay his trooper for taking the hit, for doing what he had not been able to do, than to help him become the kind of officer that deserved General Skywalker. As far as Rex was concerned, there was no greater honor than to serve under General Skywalker.
And he knew, looking at Dogma, that he had the makings of such a man already; he only needed guidance to get him in the right place. Rex would be the one to provide that guidance, not only for Dogma's benefit, but to salve his own conscience.
"This is the longest we've had together since you went to the 808th," Pitch noted, taking a bite of the pola mencha just set before him by a pretty Tagrutan waitress who reminded him an awful lot of Commander Tano. Saber Squad had decided to treat themselves to a decent dinner in the city, for tomorrow the Justice was departing.
"Yeah, it's been—what?—four days?" Top replied between mouthfuls of his own meal. "Still not long enough. What time are you guys pulling out tomorrow?"
It was Jesse who answered. "First roll call is 1600. Justice departs at 2000."
"Have you heard yet where you're heading?" Top asked.
"Anaxes," Jesse replied. "The shipyards are under attack. We're joining Battle Group Sparrow and Ninth Corps. We lose those shipyards, and the Republic's going to be in big trouble. We're making a stop first at Kamino to get some replacements. We picked up about a hundred new men here, reassigned from other units that were decimated and not reconstituted. The rest we're getting on Kamino."
"Shinies at every turn," Top grinned.
"Good thing they authorized more production," Pitch quipped with a wryness in his voice. "When does the 808th head back out?"
"Right now, we don't have a firm departure date," Top answered. "I think, uh, we're planet-side at least to the end of the week. General Shyfa had some Jedi Council business."
"He's not a member of the Council, is he?" This from Kix.
"No," Top shook his head. "He just had business with them. Maybe they want his take on why we lost Ringo Vinda."
Kix narrowed his eyes. "Do I detect a hint of sarcasm?"
"No, just a smidgen of frustration," came the smart reply, followed by a challenge. "But I think I detect something: are you growing your hair out?"
Kix actually colored. "I . . . yeah, I am." And before the others could jump all over him, he added quickly, "This isn't exactly an easy look to maintain in the field. The ship's barber is never available, and I can't do this myself. It takes a lot of time to get all these lines clean and straight—"
"No." Top cut him off. "Absolutely not. No, no, no."
Jesse grinned. "I'm with Top. We had a deal. You lost a bet, and this was what we chose for you. You don't get to change it."
"Okay, then, are you going to be my barber every week?" Kix dared.
"I'll do it," Pitch spoke up.
"Are you crazy? You'd blow my basting head off," Kix refused.
"I don't care how you do it, but sorry, Kix – this haircut, this is who you are now. We won't acknowledge you any other way," Top said in a purposefully puerile manner.
"Oh, that's very adult," Kix scolded. "So, to you guys, I'm just a haircut?"
"And a tat," Jesse added with a playful lilt.
"And drugs," Pitch threw in for good measure.
Kix gave up. It was hopeless. He would never prevail against them; and truth be told, he wasn't sure he wanted to. "Why do I bother?"
Top still did not give up. He needed assurance. "Promise me you won't change it."
Kix sighed with exaggerated frustration. "I promise I won't change it."
"That's my Little Brother."
"Dogma, good to have you back," Sixer said with a grin. "You're going to be in my company now. Sempe will take care of getting you kitted up." Before turning him over to Sempe, he looked him square in the eye. "You did the right thing. You're a hero around here."
Dogma managed an awkward grin. "Thank you, Lieutenant."
Together, he and Sempe headed for the armorer.
Sempe, always a reticent and reserved man, treaded lightly. "I'll bet you're anxious to put the armor back on."
"It will feel good," Dogma replied.
"We're all glad everything turned out alright. None of us thought it was fair that you were put in prison," Sempe went on.
"Yeah . . . thanks. But everything didn't turn out alright. My best friend died while I was in there, and I didn't even know about it."
Sempe frowned empathetically. "We're all sorry about Tup. It was terrible what happened to him."
Dogma looked straight ahead. "Were you there when he killed General Tiplar?"
"I wasn't in the hangar, no," came the reply. "I only heard about it afterwards."
"Did you see him at all after it happened?"
"No. They got him out of there pretty quickly," Sempe said. "They needed to find out if what had happened to him might happen to the rest of us." A pause. Sempe was good at sensing what was hidden in other men's hearts, and he offered what he knew would be of use. "He missed you, Dogma. Before he fell ill, he really missed you."
Dogma did not speak for several seconds. At last, he said, "He came to see me on Umbara, before I was shipped back here. He told me he'd be waiting for me when I got out." A silence. "That was the thing that kept me going, the hope that I'd see Tup again someday."
"He never forgot about you while you were in prison," Sempe put forth. "And he made sure we didn't forget."
Dogma went on, recalling the last time he had spoken to Tup. "He was the only friend I had." A sad smile crossed his face. "He said . . . he said he was kind of glad about that because . . . it made him feel like he was important to someone." He turned and looked at Sempe. "I know you understand what I'm talking about."
Sempe gave a knowing nod. "I do," he replied. "I can't imagine life without Sixer. He's my best friend." A smile. "Not to mention, my company commander."
"I should have been there for him," Dogma said. "I might have been able to stop what happened to him."
"Hm . . . maybe, but it was very sudden," Sempe replied. "If something did damage his inhibitor chip, it happened quickly."
"No one noticed anything was wrong with him?"
"Not that I know of," came the reply.
"Fives didn't notice anything?"
"If he did, he didn't say anything," Sempe said. "And then he got sick himself and . . . he died before any of us got to talk to him."
A long silence ensured before Dogma ventured, "Captain Rex said they became good friends."
So, here it was. The other crux of Dogma's pain. It wasn't just Tup's death that was hurting him; it was the idea that he had been replaced as Tup's closest friend.
With this, Sempe could be of help. "That's true. In fact, I would say Tup was Fives' best friend." A pause. "But Fives wasn't Tup's best friend. You were. That didn't change when you went to prison."
This was what Dogma had needed to hear. "Thanks, Corporal."
Sempe grinned and clapped him on the shoulder. "You can call me Sempe."
"Okay. Sempe."
"This is it. Time to say good-bye again," Jesse lamented.
He stood with his three surviving squad mates in the main hangar servicing the Justice.
"Let's say, 'until later'," Pitch suggested.
"I like that better," Jesse agreed.
"Me, too," Top nodded.
"I hope we get to see each other again soon," Kix stated. "The last few days have meant—it's made this—it's made this so much harder."
"Little Brother," Top stepped forward and hugged him. He followed with Jesse then Pitch. "I'm going to miss you all. We have to try to schedule some holocons. I know the pace of battle has made it difficult, but we need to try."
"We'll make time somehow," Jesse asserted.
"Okay . . . " Top swallowed down his emotion. "Take care of each other. And . . . take care of the captain."
"We will," Jesse assured him. "And you . . . take care of yourself and the 808th."
"You know I will."
With that Jesse and Pitch started up the ramp. Kix hung back for a moment.
Top smiled. "Thinking of joining the 808th, LB?"
Kix was earnest. "You know, when Challenger arrived and I saw you in the middle of the off-loading, that was the first time I'd seen you acting in a command position with your troops." A pause. "You were good at it. I could tell how much they all looked up to you. And I finally realized that . . . with them is where you belong."
Top inclined his head. "A man can belong in two places at once; but he can only be in one."
"So he follows his best judgment."
"And if he's lucky to be part of a family like ours, he knows his brothers will always have his back." With that, Top cuffed his Little Brother playfully. "Get on, now. They're up there waiting for you." He watched as Kix trotted up the ramp with characteristic lightness, and in contract, a heaviness descended over his heart.
Saber Squad—those that remained—were once again heading their separate ways.
As he stood watching them head up the ramp, it was then that he noticed Captain Rex standing at the top.
The two captains had not seen each other once since Challenger's arrival. It hadn't been by design that their paths had not crossed. It was simply each man had gone to his own source of revitalization: Top to Saber Squad; Rex to Cody.
But seeing his former captain now, Top wished he had sought him out and spent some time with him. The last time he had seen Captain Rex had been on Umbara; and at that time, it was clear that Rex had been under great stress, suffering from the treachery of Krell and the losses that had occurred because of him.
Now, Top wanted to see if his captain—for he would always consider Rex to be his captain—was faring any better. He began making his way up the ramp and was about half way there when Rex saw him.
Rex started down to meet him. "Captain Top," he smiled, extending his hand. "I was beginning to think I wouldn't see you at all this time around."
Top clasped Rex's forearm. "I was thinking the same thing, Sir. Got caught up with my squad mates. It's good to see you, Sir."
"You, too. The 808th is looking good," Rex noted. "Losses not too heavy on Ringo Vinda?"
Top cocked his head to one side. "Enh . . . forty percent. That's pretty bad."
Rex replied, "Try sixty percent. The 501st can barely scrape up three companies right now. But we're getting our backfills."
"That's good to hear," Top nodded. He was relieved to see that Rex appeared very much recovered from the melancholy of Umbara. In fact, he felt as if he were in the presence of the lieutenant he had come to know in ARC training. The lieutenant who had shown him the kind of officer he wanted to be.
There was something riding along beneath the surface of the man facing him; a sort of contained energy that was ready to be loosed on the galaxy. A confidence. It was both tacit and powerful, so much so that it made Top want to laugh.
It made him want to laugh with joy that the captain upon whom he had based his entire leadership style was, at this stage in the war, finding something to re-energize his fighting spirit. He wanted to laugh at the fact that even the horrors of Umbara had not been able to squelch the drive for victory that animated Rex's entire being. His captain was indomitable.
"You get to spend some time with those three jokers?" Rex quipped, nodding as Jesse, Pitch, and Kix disappeared inside the ship's main cargo bay.
"Yes, Captain. Time well spent," Top replied. "By the Force, though, I miss them."
"They feel the same way about you," Rex said.
Top smiled in a wistful manner. "You know, Captain . . . when I took the job with the 808th, I had this idea in my mind that, once the war was over, we'd all be free men, and I would be able to be with them again. Silly, isn't it?"
"I don't think it's silly at all," Rex replied. He look a moment to study the Top's appearance. The 808th first-in-command still wore his hair in 501st blue. He still wore the Flat Top from which he got his name. The tattoo "Wig" – the second part of his shared moniker, of which Hardcase had worn the first part, "Big."
Bigwig.
Rex felt a sense of internal satisfaction.
"He is a Bigwig. He's is a standout." Unbidden, thoughts of Fives, Echo, and Hevy wafted through his mind. Dogma and Tup. Sixer, Sempe. Ajax and Double Barrel. Teams, all of them. He even thought of himself and Cody. Himself and General Skywalker. How much stronger one man could be when he had the right companion or companions.
Saber Squad. They would never be whole again, but they could at least be together. As the war dragged on, that unity seemed more important than ever.
Rex was absolutely placid. "Do you want them to come with you to the 808th?"
For a moment, Top was speechless. At last, he asked tepidly, "If I said yes, would you let them come?"
"Yes," Rex replied. "Any one of them that wanted to go, I would allow it." A pause. "I've learned over time that there's something to be said for . . . keeping friends together. Saber Squad is its own brotherhood within a brotherhood."
Top regarded his former captain with a combination of awe and sadness. Awe in that, once again, he was realizing that he had only known the smallest part of what was incredible in the captain of the 501st. Sadness in the recognition that this had to be a painful offering, yet the captain was willing to make it for the wholeness of the squad. It occurred to Top that, no matter how much of Rex's leadership he had imbibed, he would never be his equal. He would never have the goodness, the understanding, or the selflessness that the captain possessed. It was something he could only strive for, knowing that to reach even a fraction of Rex's character would be an achievement.
"I want to be with them," Top replied after a long moment of consideration. "But I want them to stay in the 501st. This is their home. This is where they belong."
Rex nodded. "And you belong in the 808th," he drew out the conclusion.
"I told Kix just now that I want to be in two places, but I can only be in one," Top replied. "He understands." A sigh. "But it's hard. Seeing them, being with them for these past few days . . . did you feel this way when you left your squad mates to come to the 501st?"
Rex was taken aback by the question. He was surprised and somewhat ashamed to realize he hadn't thought about his batchers, his pod mates or his squad mates since coming to the 501st. It hit him hard to realize that the men he had grown up with and gone to battle with had not formed any part of his life for the past two and a half years. The 501st had become his family. General Skywalker had become his leader. Cody was his dearest friend.
He hated to admit to himself the fact that he didn't even know if any of his batchers were still alive. He hadn't checked on the 729th since he'd left, and their sector assignments had never put them in the same battlefield. He had kept them neatly sequestered away in the depths of his memory, silent and harmless. It was like Cody had said: "The officer who loved his troops so much he had to pretend not to. Worst kept secret in the entire kriffing GAR." It was true. It was true, but that didn't mean Rex had to admit it. And he was discovering, in this brief encounter, just how painful it was to call to mind the separation from the men he had grown up with. Finding out that some of them were likely dead . . . that was too risky.
Even for Rex, it was too risky.
Not because he feared death. Not because he hadn't already witnessed thousands of deaths. But because he hadn't had the courage to keep up with his previous unit, his batchers. Or maybe it wasn't that he lacked courage; maybe he had lacked interest. That was an even more abysmal thought. He would not tolerate it having any presence in his mind. He pushed it back down forcefully.
Yet, looking at Top for a long, speechless moment, he realized, in this one way, Top had been able to do something he had not. Top had never let go. He had never forgotten. There were four men he loved, three of them still living. They would always be at the core of his heart, even despite the distance between them.
Rex had left that particular camaraderie behind. He'd never asked why, but he already knew the answer.
"If I can't be there for them, I don't want to worry about them. I can help the men I'm with now. That's all I can do."
At last, Rex spoke with circumspection. "I . . . made the 501st my new family, my new home."
"And you never wondered if you made a mistake leaving the 729th? You never missed your squad mates?" Top asked earnestly.
Rex did not want to lie, but he did not want to tarnish the image he knew Top had of him. "I've never thought it was a mistake." That was true. "And I've never had time to miss them. I try not to think about it." Seeing Top's quizzical expression, he went on, "We're very different in that way, Top. You like to keep Saber Squad near the top of your thoughts. I can't do that. It's not who I am."
Top gave a minute nod. "And no one would ever fault you for it, Captain."
Rex gave a wan grin. "I can fault myself." A pause. "And I wish you'd call me Rex. We're equals now."
"I . . . prefer to call you captain. You'll always be my captain. The only captain I've ever had." He took a step back. It seemed the proper note on which to end the conversation. "I hope we see each other again, Captain."
"As do I."
Rex watched him depart.
Four hours later, the Justice lifted off.
Kamino and Anaxes awaited.
Notes: So, a little nod to Kix's new "do" in Season 7. BUT, being as I am vehemently opposed to him changing his look, he will still be sporting his original "Kix cut" in the Bad Batch arc - and for the rest of the story! And the entire last scene between Rex and Top is something I've toyed with for a while. With all the emphasis on brotherhood, squad mates, batcher togetherness, etc., what were Rex's thoughts upon leaving his own batchers to take over the 501st? I didn't want to turn it into an entire backstory, but I wanted to touch on it.