Dear Reader, Again, thank you first and foremost to my wonderful reviewers: Ms CT-782, Australian Dealer, Galaxy 000, LLTC, Writingfan27, Cuthalion97, Princess Rey-Tano, PinkCookie11, ichkak, and Sued13. So, here is where I continue my digression from Season 7. This chapter is sort of a hybrid between the reel version and the final version of "A Distant Echo." There were elements I liked from both. There are a few scenes that serve as nothing more than vehicles to expand on character development (of the Bad Batch). I am admittedly rushing these chapters to get to new material, but I still hope you will enjoy it. Peace, CS
Chapter 126 Shadows
"Seo muid reidh, taibhsi no laoich,
Scriosfadh aiobh anam tubaisteah an te.
No an bhfuil me ro ciniciuil ar mhaite liom fhein
Buartha le ra, lig cinniuint an beim." In Irish
"So here we go, heroes or ghosts.
One man's mood can break another man's soul.
Or am I just too cynical for my own good?
Too scared to say, we'll get there if we should."
Taibhsi so Laochra
Seachtain na Gaeilge
Echo was alive.
It wasn't possible, and yet there could be no other explanation.
He had to be alive. He must be.
Since hearing that voice coming over the audio terminal, Rex had not thought about anything else. The algorithm now meant nothing to him. Echo was alive. And if he was alive, Rex would not rest until he found him.
"That number, Captain: what did it mean?"
This inquiry came from Tech. They were in a commandeered hover transport on their way back to the main base. The team had made it out alive, and now the way ahead was thrown into chaos.
"CT-1409. That was Echo's number," Rex replied. "He's alive."
"Echo . . . he's the one you said died at the Citadel," Tech said. "You feared he might have had the algorithm on him."
"I did think he had died," Rex replied. "No one could have survived that explosion. But he did. He survived and, if that signal was live, like you said, then that means he's still alive."
"That seems unlikely, doesn't it?" Tech asked.
"How else could it be a live signal? And why would the signal be saying his CT number?"
"I said it was unlikely, not impossible, Captain," Tech pointed out. "If he is alive, what will you do?"
Rex wanted to tell him exactly what he intended to do: to go find Echo and bring him back. If he was being held prisoner by the Separatists and forced to work on their behalf, Rex would not let that stand. But the choice was not Rex's to make. He would present the situation to General Skywalker, and if the general was agreeable, Rex would proceed. If not . . . Rex was not sure what he would do. The idea of disobeying General Skywalker was repugnant to him; but the thought of leaving Echo to the devices of the enemy . . . that was painful and horrifying. What kind of first-in-command, what kind of brother would he be to abandon one of his men? A man whom he had thought dead? To what lengths would he go to get him back.
"It's something I would have to discuss with General Skywalker," Rex replied. "If it were up to me, I'd want to go get Echo. And that's what I'm going to try and convince General Skywalker to do."
After a brief silence, Tech said earnestly, "If you do go to find him, I hope you'll take us with you as your team."
Rex glanced at him. "I'd have thought you'd already had enough of working with us 'regs'."
"It's not always easy for us to work with other units," Tech explained. "We tend to rely only our own abilities. But I would feel confident relying on your leadership. I think we all would."
Rex wasn't quite ready to accept this oblique offer of assistance. While the Bad Batchers were more than capable, he wasn't convinced that he could work with them again. He wasn't sure if Jesse could work with them. And even though Tech seemed amenable enough, Rex imagined that the other three – especially Crosshair and Wrecker—would not be the best men to round out a team. And if the mission was to find Echo, Rex did not want to deal with any contention, any pushback.
"That's something we can consider if General Skywalker agrees to go look for him," Rex replied. "We don't want to get too far ahead of ourselves. And do me a favor, Tech: don't mention this to the rest of your team – or anyone else. Let me talk to General Skywalker first."
Surprisingly compliant, Tech nodded. "I give you my word, Captain."
Because athough Rex did not know it, this particular Bad Batcher had decided that he'd finally met a "reg" who was every bit as skilled as his squad mates. But more importantly, a better person.
Kix received word that the team was on its way back, ten minutes out.
Traveling in an enemy craft.
He wasn't sure if that was an indicator of good or bad things. He grabbed Pitch away from napping in the barracks and headed to the landing platforms, keeping an eye open for their arrival.
When he'd been told they were on the way back, he had not had the courage to ask if everyone had made it. Now, as the craft came into view, he saw Jesse right away, standing in the front of the craft, bracing himself against the pilot and co-pilot seats, where Hunter and Crosshair were sitting.
His breath streamed out of him in relief. And when he saw Captain Rex, also apparently uninjured, he allowed his entire body to relax.
"So, those are the super troopers? The Bad Batch?" Pitch asked as the craft set down. Word had gone round the base about the specialized clones sent to assist with a behind-enemy-lines mission.
"The Bad Batch," Kix said with a slight sneer. "I can think of a few other things I'd rather call them."
Pitch grinned. He'd listened to Kix's account of what had happened on the mission, and the derision in Kix's voice had been unmistakable – and unusual for the medic. In a way, it was rather humorous, because Kix rarely had a coarse word for anybody. But the Bad Batch had rubbed him the wrong way, and he made no secret of his disdain for them.
Rex was the first one to step down, and he went to Kix directly.
"Kix, how's Commander Cody?"
"They stabilized him here and sent him to the Arrowstar," Kix replied, referring to the specialized medical frigate just beyond Anaxes' orbit. "He'll undergo surgery there, but there's still a chance he'll need to be sent to a clone medical facility for rehab."
"Did they—is he going to survive?" Rex asked.
"Major Stitch felt pretty good about his chances for a full recovery," Kix replied. Major Stitch was the 212th's chief medic, in the same way Major Hypes was the 501st's chief medic. "I saw him before he left. He was actually conscious but pretty out of it."
"Thanks, Kix," Rex said with genuine gratitude. "You did a great job out there."
"Thank you, Sir."
With that, Rex headed for the command center. He needed to see General Skywalker.
Once the captain was gone, Jesse stepped up and greeted his squad mates. To Kix, he announced, "I'm glad you and the commander made it back safely."
"Same thing to you," Kix replied. "I was worried."
"Believe it or not, it actually went pretty well," Jesse said with a quirky grin. "We, uh, came together as a team."
At that moment, the members of the Bad Batch stepped up beside Jesse.
"How's Commander Cody?" Hunter asked.
Kix relayed the same information he'd just told Captain Rex.
"That's good," Hunter nodded. "The commander's one of the very best. We're glad to hear they expect him to recover."
Jesse nodded towards Pitch. "This is Pitch. He's one of our squad mates." He then introduced the four Bad Batchers to Pitch, concluding with, "The captain's gone to give the debrief. I could go for something to eat."
"Let's go," Pitch agreed.
Jesse looked to the Bad Batchers. "We've got a pretty decent mess can. Care to join us?"
Kix's jaw dropped – almost. He caught himself at the last second and maintained a neutral expression.
Hunter considered. "We . . . usually keep to ourselves. We don't fit in well with regs."
"Well, consider this a . . . first lesson in how to interact with the rest of the GAR," Jesse quipped.
A grin crept across Hunter's face. "Okay, then. Let's do it."
Jesse led the way.
Kix was speechless. He looked at Pitch, who appeared amused; so there was no help there. But then came the moment of mortification as Wrecker stomped up to him, put a bear-sized arm around his shoulders and squeezed in a powerful embrace.
"Little medic . . . smart little medic!" he bellowed before releasing him and then clomping away to join his squad mates as they followed Jesse to the mess conex.
Pitch chuckled. "At least he didn't call you Little Brother."
"Unhh," Kix groaned. "Jesse must see something in them that I don't."
When Rex entered the command post, he found Generals WIndu, Kenobi and Skywalker waiting for him.
"Glad to see you made it back safely, Captain," General Windu greeted him. "Report."
Rex swallowed and set his shoulders. "We were able to locate the signal carrying the algorithm," he began. "It was a relay station within the cyber center."
"A relay station?" Anakin inquired.
"Yes, Sir." A pause. "The signal originated on Skako Minor. It wasn't a . . . computerized or automated signal. It wasn't just pulling from the algorithm. It was a live signal."
"A live signal?" This from Obi-wan.
"Yes, General. A live signal," Rex reiterated.
"How is that possible?" Anakin asked.
"I can think of only one possibility," Rex replied. "Echo is still alive."
Anakin and Obi-wan exchanged troubled glances.
"Rex, we already discussed this," Anakin said almost apologetically. "After what happened at the Citadel, the chances of Echo being alive are . . . practically non-existent."
"There's no other way I can think of there being a live signal," Rex replied. "And . . . even if he isn't alive, my algorithm is still out there. We need to eliminate it at the source."
General Windu regarded the captain with a scrutinizing gaze. "It sounds like you're suggesting another mission behind enemy lines."
"Skako Minor is a neutral planet," Rex pointed out.
"A neutral planet in an area of space held by the Separatists," Windu stated.
Rex was not about to give up. "A neutral planet that has allowed the Separatists to set up a comm station."
"You know very well, Captain, that the Separatists don't ask for permission," Mace challenged. "If memory serves, Skako Minor is home to very primitive cultures. They wouldn't have the means to resist the Separatists."
Rex pressed again. "We just went behind enemy lines here. We weren't able to complete our mission, because the algorithm wasn't stored at the cyber center. If we want to succeed, we have to go to Skako Minor . . . regardless of its position behind enemy lines."
"I agree with Rex," Anakin spoke up. "The goal here is to stop any use of the algorithm by the enemy. If that means going to Skako Minor, that's a risk we should take."
"Or we alter our methods of fighting," Obi-wan proposed.
"That would impact thousands of fighting units," Rex resisted.
General Windu pushed back gently. "One of the advantages of having living, breathing, thinking soldiers is that we can change plans and tactics at a moment's notice. We have our creativity to fall back on. I understand your algorithm is very encompassing, Captain; but I have faith that our troops can adapt to new ways of doing things." A pause. "Still, this is a decision for the Jedi Council. I will bring it to their attention. They may decide it's worth the risk to retrieve the trooper . . . if he is, in fact, still alive."
"I would be grateful, General," Rex replied.
"We'll let you know what the Council decides," Mace assured him. "You're dismissed, Captain."
Before leaving, Rex turned to his commanding officer. "General, I'd like to go make a quick trip to the Arrowstar, see how Commander Cody is doing."
"Of course," Anakin agreed. He watched his captain turn on his heel and depart. He'd seen the hope in his eye and heard the determination in his voice. Rex was firmly set on the idea of going after Echo. No matter what he might find, he was ready to accept it. He was not ready to accept no for an answer.
And neither was Anakin.
"I thought you said they had decent food here," Wrecker grumbled. "This slop isn't fit for man nor beast."
"You would know," Crosshair droned.
"It tastes like something they scraped off the windshield of a speeder—"
"That's enough, Wrecker," Hunter interjected. "If you don't like it, don't eat it. Otherwise, stop with the commentary."
Tech, quietly enjoying his meal, offered, "I find it quite satisfactory."
"You would," Wrecker poked.
"Guys," Hunter warned, and the Bad Batchers fell silent.
Pitch, sitting across the table from them, had not stopped smiling since the moment of his introduction to them. The constant bickering and petty insults they flung at each other were fully entertaining. He wondered how such a dysfunctional group of men could function as a team – and apparently, a successful team.
Seeing the perpetual grin, Crosshair scowled. "What are you laughing at?"
Pitch was not intimidated. "You guys. You're like . . . the four most mismatched troopers I could ever imagine."
"Not to mention, obnoxious," Kix added.
Jesse chuckled.
"How can you guys be clones, and you're nothing like the rest of us?" Pitch asked. "You don't look like us. You don't act like us."
"You got a problem with that?" Wrecker challenged.
"I think it's funny," Pitch replied.
Hunter grinned. "Well, this might be the first time anyone's ever referred to us as funny."
"Ye-hah! Most people hate us," Wrecker blurted out with a laugh of . . . pride?
"I'm not surprised," Kix said.
Hunter inclined his head. "You all hated us when we first met."
Jesse grunted, "Well, that might have something to do with grabbing me around the throat. And disrespecting our captain."
"Hehe. It was my gut reaction," Wrecker chortled.
"And a good reason for people to hate you," Jesse replied. "You know, we're not wary of you because you look different. It's how you act."
Tech raised his head curiously. "Please elaborate on that statement. What is it about how we act?"
Jesse cocked his head to one side. "Oh, well, I don't want to wind stuff up again—"
"Then I'll do it," Kix jumped in, but before he could get a word out, Crosshair spoke up – and not about their current subject matter.
"That's a sweet piece of weaponry."
The others followed his gaze to where two clones had entered the mess, one with his modified DC-15x slung over his shoulder.
"That's DB – Double Barrel," Jesse said. "He's our top sniper. He messes around with that thing in ways I don't even want to know about. He can hit a mark from fifteen klicks."
Crosshair made a scoffing noise. "The rifle doesn't exist that can do that."
"So you say," Jesse shrugged.
Crosshair got to his feet.
"We don't want any trouble, Crosshair," Hunter warned. "Sit down."
"I'm just going to ask him about his weapon," Crosshair replied. "No trouble. No trouble at all."
"At least let the man eat his meal," Hunter said, and this time his voice contained more of a command to it.
Crosshair sat back down very slowly and resumed his own meal, but his eyes never strayed from Double Barrel and his "sweet piece of weaponry."
In the food line, Double Barrel and Ajax hadn't even noticed the table with the peculiar-looking men in the grey-red armor. At the top of both men's list were the food dispensers and which items were already out of stock. They'd come in from a late patrol and were ready for some chow and rack time, in that order.
"Bagat Na. Come on, come on, please still have it. Yes!" DB silently celebrated his luck. The Swabian dish was his favorite, very popular, and often one of the first selections to go empty.
"I'll bet you just took the last Bagat Na," Ajax accused. "You got the last one last time."
"I'll tell you what: if it is the last, I'll split it with you," DB offered.
To Ajax's pleasure, there was yet another Bagat Na. No need to share today.
The two friends sat down at a table by themselves and spoke scarcely a word while they ate as if they hadn't eaten in days. At one point, a loud, raucous outburst of laughter drew their attention to a table on the other side of the can where they saw their second-in-command and his squad mates sitting with a group of unfamiliar and peculiar-looking troopers.
"Hey, they must be those special troops Commander Cody called in," Ajax noted.
"Huh, they're . . . weird-looking," DB noted.
"I thought they were supposed to be clones," Ajax said. "They don't look like the rest of us."
"Unfortunately, for them. We're good-looking devils," DB grinned. "Maybe we can find out what the special mission was."
Ajax shook his head. "I don't even want to know. I'm wiped out. I'll be ready to hit the bunks as soon as I'm done eating."
"You and me, both," DB agreed.
They finished eating, bussed their trays, and headed for the exit. As they were about to leave, one of the strangers intercepted them at the doorway.
It was an awkward moment as the hawkish-looking man with the toothpick between his lips stood staring at them but without speaking.
Back at the table, Jesse smirked. "That is why you guys don't get along with others. No . . . social graces."
Pitch added, "And believe me, DB is the last guy anyone wants to mess with."
Wrecker sneered. "That little guy? I could brush him off like a bog fly."
Pitch, Kix, and Jesse exchanged knowing glances.
"You can think that," Pitch replied.
Kix added, "He has an advantage the rest of us could never have, including the four of you."
Tech was intrigued. "Really? What advantage is that?"
Jesse waved off. "It would be too hard to explain – and you all wouldn't believe me anyway. If DB decides to . . . make use of it, then you'll see what it is." A pause. "But seriously, you guys need to learn how to interact with regular troops. If Crosshair has something he wants to say to DB, he should just say it. Instead, he's just standing there, trying to stare him down, just like he did with me when we first met."
With this statement, Hunter could not disagree.
For his own part, DB was reacting with much less offense than Jesse had shown at his first encounter with Crosshair.
The 501st sniper smiled curiously. "Something I can do for you, friend?"
Crosshair replied with a nod. "That long gun is a beauty."
DB was pleasantly surprised by this response. "Oh. Thanks."
"You made your own modifications?"
DB unslung the weapon. "Yeah, a few here and there."
"Mind if I take a look?"
Double Barrel hesitated. His eyes darted over to where the rest of the group was still sitting. A subtle nod from Jesse was the assurance he needed.
"Sure." He had already removed the charging pack before coming into the mess, so he handed over the rifle.
Crosshair examined and scrutinized, but always with his requisite air of cool detachment. "You narrowed the shaft, made it round instead of octagonal."
"That adds one-to-two klicks to the range," DB replied.
"How did you do it without compromising the integrity of the barrel inner wall?"
"Hours and hours and hours of hand-grinding with a 120-gauge steel ramrod and then refilling it around the rod with fast-setting liqui-steel," DB explained. "I botched it up by going too far the first time and ended up decreasing the muzzle velocity by over 25 percent. I had to replace the entire barrel."
"You use a standard sniper site," Crosshair observed.
"Yeah."
"These can only see up to ten klicks."
DB affected something of a false humility; while behind him, Ajax chuckled.
"Yeah, they're rated for ten klicks," DB agreed.
"I've heard you can hit a target up to 15 klicks." This was clearly spoken as a challenge.
"Oh, well, uh . . . yeah."
Crosshair was still examining the weapon. He did not even raise his eyes to regard its owner. "If this site isn't rated for anything beyond ten, how is it you can hit something you can't even see? My long gun is the most powerful and accurate sniper weapon the GAR has produced, and even it can't get beyond ten. Hard for me to believe this gun is as good as you say it is." With the last couple words, he shoved tossed the weapon forcefully back to DB.
DB ran one gloved hand over the length of the rifle, as if comforting it after having been handled by a stranger. "Well, I can't help what you believer or don't believe," he replied, still sporting a small grin. "But I can tell you, you heard right: I can nail a mark from 15 klicks . . . 95 percent of the time. And on a good day, when the atmospheric conditions are right and there's no light refraction off air particles, I can get up to 17 or even 18 klicks."
"You'd need a specialized scope for that, and no such thing has been invented yet—"
"No, no special scope."
"You can't see that precisely to hit a target from that distance," Crosshair insisted.
At this, Ajax put forth with playful mischief. "He's got what you might call, an eagle's eye."
Double Barrel glanced at his friend. "Well said." He slung the weapon back over his shoulder. Then to Crosshair. "It was nice talking to you." As he and Ajax made to leave once more, the stranger spoke again.
"Maybe you'd like to give me a little demonstration."
But DB wasn't interested. "No, no, not really. I'm ready to hit to sack. And I don't think my captain would want me wasting aim on . . . target practice."
Back at the table, Jesse breathed a sigh of relief as DB and Ajax exited the can. There'd been no fights, no blow-ups, no raised voices. Jesse was proud of DB. He was proud of the self-assurance the sniper had shown in dealing with the challenges Crosshair had presented. He was proud of Ajax for not giving in to the temptation to broadcast his friend's particular ability.
As Crosshair returned to the table, he growled, "I won't believe it til I see it."
Kix could not resist. "I don't think DB cares whether you believe it or not. But I can tell you, we've all seen it. You may think you're the best shot, Crosshair, but DB would bury you. In fact, that's something I'd love to see myself."
Wrecker butted in. "Then why didn't he agree to show us?"
It was Jesse who replied evenly, "Because DB doesn't feel the need to prove himself. He's not going to respond to any provocations." He waited a moment before adding, "He doesn't have a chip on his shoulder."
At these words, Hunter regarded Jesse thoughtfully and in a pointed effort to ward off any contention, he made a rare concession, "Point well taken."
Jesse gave a nod, then announced, "Now . . . I'm still second-in-command of this battalion. I need to go check with the company commanders and see how things are going." He stood up. "Maybe I'll see you all again before you leave. If not, it's been . . . an eye-opening experience. And not necessarily a bad one."
Hunter got to his feet as well and extended his hand. "Thank you, Lieutenant. You've given me a whole new outlook on working with 'regs'."
"I'm glad to hear it." Jesse looked to Kix and Pitch. "Ready, brothers? I could use some company on my rounds."
"They just finished up his surgery a few minutes ago, and now he's on his way to a bacta tank, Captain." The medical orderly in the Arrowstar's critical care bacta unit was very polite and very . . . fluid. There was something abuot the clone trooper that practically screamed Shinie, yet he seemed very well suited to his job in the medical profession. Gentle, calm, reassuring. Kix, without the edge.
"He's scheduled to be in the tank for at least 30 hours," the orderly went on. "I think they'd let you catch him before he goes in, but he probably won't be at all coherent."
Rex frowned. Laying eyes on his friend would be better than nothing and might help to ease his concern a bit.
"Can you show me where to go?"
"I'll take you, Captain." The orderly escorted him back through a maze of corridors, at last coming to a fairly large open area lined with monitoring consoles and manned by a dozen medical personnel. Beyond this control center, three long hallways reached back a hundred meters each; and each hallways was lined, on both sides, with bacta tanks.
"Has Commander Cody been brought in yet?" the orderly inquired of one of the men manning the consoles.
A quick check. "He should be arriving shortly. They've left the operating suite and are on their way."
The report had been correct, for within two minutes, the doors to the control center opened, admitting a pair of medical droids, a humanoid doctor, and a hover gurney on which Commander Cody was being conveyed.
"2224," one of the droids announced.
"Tank 3-28," came the reply.
Rex stepped forward before the team could move their patient down the corridor.
"Is he going to be okay, doc?"
The doctor, human but with interesting facial markings that made it hard to determine precisely which planet he was from, replied confidently, "A day or so in the tank, then he'll need to stay on convalescent leave for at least a month, maybe a bit longer. He's a lucky man. With the internal damage he had, I had expected to find a crushed pelvis. The amount of blood loss was tremendous. Your field medic did a good job keeping him alive."
"Yeah, he did," Rex agreed quietly. "Will he, uh, will he be sent to the rear to convalesce?"
"That wouldn't be my recommendation," the doctor replied. "He doesn't need physical therapy. He'll just need rest. He can do that shipboard. We'll keep him here about a week after he comes out of the bacta, and then he can return to the Challenger." A sardonic grin drew up one corner of his mouth. "The sooner we can get these high vis patients out of our hair, the better."
Rex raised an eyebrow and felt a smile of his own forming. "High vis?"
"Commander Cody is certainly a high vis patient," came the reply. "As would you be, Captain Rex."
Rex chuckled. "Now, that's a scary thought."
"We don't like the spotlight here," the doctor went on. "We just do our best to patch 'em up and get them back to the battle." A pause. "You know what it means if we can't return them to service."
The smile left Rex's face.
The doctor continued speaking. "Enh, no one likes to talk about it. We're not supposed to – bad for morale, bad for the men recuperating. But it's the truth, and we all know it." A pause. "Anyway, no need to worry, Captain; the Commander doesn't fall into that category. He'll be up and about, back at General Kenobi's side quickly time."
"Thanks, doc. I appreciate it," Rex replied. He put a hand on Cody's blanketed arm. "Be tough, Cody. Don't give them too much trouble, and I'll see you soon."
It did not bother him that he was speaking to an unconscious man. The words were more for his own benefit than Cody's, the reassurance meant to bolster his own fortitude. He watched as they took the gurney down the hall, and he could not help but feel very much on his own. Whatever decisions he made from this point, without the benefit of Cody's wisdom, would be laid solely at his own feet.
He had never shied away from that truth before. In fact, most of his battlefield decisions were his own. But what he was now contemplating . . . this would not be along the same lines of the disobedience he had shown with General Krell.
This could possibly entail disobeying his own general, the man he most esteemed and admired.
And that was not something he was sure he could do.
Anakin was furious.
But this time, he had kept that fury to himself, hidden beneath a placid, compliant exterior.
He'd gone into the meeting with the Jedi Council already knowing what he was going to do, regardless of what their decision might be. He'd made up his mind as soon as he'd seen the look on Rex's face upon returning from the mission. And he had been surprised at the strength of Rex's presence in the Force at that moment, detectible as hope and excitement at the idea that Echo might be alive.
The truth was that Anakin had been able to sense Rex in the Force since the moment of their first meeting. Even in the awkwardness of that earliest acquaintance, Anakin had felt it: the connection had been instantaneous. They were kindred spirits. So strong had been the feeling of attachment that Anakin had been wary of it. He had already lost Captain Stamp – his first captain – to Sector Headquarters; and Stamp had fit his personality like a glove. How could anyone take his place?
Yet, the relationship between Anakin and his new captain had grown strong in short order until Anakin could hardly imagine what military life would be like without Rex at his side. He had never violated the sanctity of his first-in-command's soul within the Force. He had never tried to find or pinpoint him using the Force. What he could sense when in Rex's physical presence was where he had left it, and those amorphous indicators within the Force were Anakin's assurance that his captain was steady.
And devoted.
That devotion would not go unrepaid. Ever.
And if Rex needed to find out the truth about Echo, Anakin would do everything in his power to help him get the answers he sought.
So, when he left the command center after the holocon with the Jedi Council had ended, he did so without having expressed his anger and disgust at their decision not to further pursue the issue of the algorithm. Or the possibility of Echo. The truth was that he had expected such a response, and he had prepared himself to keep his emotions under control. The moment the meeting was concluded, he headed out directly to find his captain.
He raised his wrist comm.
"Rex, are you back planet-side yet?"
"Just touching down now, General," came the crisp reply.
"Meet me outside your barracks," Anakin ordered.
"Yes, Sir."
The ship touched down and Rex headed for the barracks. As he approached, he saw his commanding general waiting, seated on the ramp. It was unusual to see General Skywalker not in the midst of doing something. He was the kind of restive soul who could usually could not sit still.
But he was sitting still now. It looked . . . unusual, funny.
"General Skywalker," Rex greeted him.
Anakin remained sitting. "How's Cody?"
"In a bacta tank for next day and a half," Rex replied. "The doc felt confident he'll recover, but he's going to have some convalescent time ahead of him."
"That's good news," Anakin said earnestly. "He was pretty bad off. Kix saves the day again."
Rex nodded. "As always."
Anakin got to his feet. "Put together a team."
Rex was speechless for a moment. At last, he managed, "The Council approved it?"
"No." General Skywalker's answer was direct, brief, and spoken with finality. "Pick your team. Keep it small and meet me back here in one hour. And Rex, keep it quiet."
"General, are you sure? This could get you into a lot of trouble."
"So, how is that different from any other day?" Anakin quipped. "One hour."
Rex watched him as he strode away.
"Pick your team. Keep it small."
Rex's reflexive reaction was to go back to his Saber Squad members with the addition of Double Barrel for the advantages the eagle brought to the table. Yet, there was something different about this mission. Something personal. Something peculiar. Something so preposterous that Rex actually found himself worried about how his troopers might perceive him. He'd not told anyone in the 501st other than Jesse about the possibility that Echo might be alive, insisting that the lieutenant keep it to himself. He'd held Tech to the same limitations but for different reasons.
Now, he didn't want to be seen as giving in to wishful thinking, as chasing a ghost. He did not want to lose the faith of the men who followed him.
With Clone Force 99, on the other hand, he had no stake in maintaining their good opinion. He didn't care whether they esteemed him or not. What he did care about was their skill set and their disinterestedness. To them, this would be just another mission.
It wasn't an easy decision. He didn't know if he could tolerate being in their presence for any extended period of time again. But knowing that General Skywalker would be there this time, Rex was ready to give them another try.
Time to go find them.
"How much longer do we have to hang around here?" Wrecker groused. "The mission's over. Can't we get out of here?"
"What's your hurry, Wrecker?" Hunter asked. "I think we can learn a lot from these 'regs'. And until we get another assignment, I'm inclined to stay with them."
"Great," Crosshair muttered. "Not my idea of a good time."
Hunter grinned. "Well, maybe if we hang around long enough, you'll get to see that 15-klick shot."
Crosshair sneered, "I'll never see something that's not possible."
"It would be an extremely difficult shot to make," Tech added. "Not just because of the limitations of human eyesight but because the trajectory of the plasma bolt begins to lose integrity at 12.8 klicks. To compensate for the loss of velocity and the declination of the—"
"Blah, blah, blah!" Wrecker interrupted. "Who cares? If we're gonna stay here, we ought to get out on those front lines with them and blast some tinnies. We could end the battle for this planet in a couple hours."
Hunter loved Wrecker's enthusiasm while, at the same time, recognizing his detachment from reality.
"Maybe joining them isn't a bad idea," he agreed. "But I'm not so sure you all would know how to work with a group of so many men."
"Oh, I don't know. You all seem like you're teachable."
They all turned towards the sound of the voice. Captain Rex had entered the mess and approached their table, unnoticed.
Hunter gestured for the captain to join them. "Captain, you just missed your men," he said. "Jesse and his squad mates were here."
"I was actually looking for you, Hunter," Rex replied. "I've got another mission for your team."
Anakin stood outside the 501st field barracks: a series of portable metal structures filled with bunks and foot lockers.
One hour had passed, and here came Rex across the flight line. And with him was a man Anakin had never met.
"He must be one of the Bad Batchers," Anakin mused internally. "Interesting look."
"General Skywalker, this is Sergeant Hunter," Rex introduced. "He's in charge of Clone Force 99."
Anakin gave a curt nod. "Sergeant." Then to Rex, "Your team?"
"Just . . . Clone Force 99."
Anakin was mildly surprised. "No one else?"
"No, General. You said, keep it small. And . . . I've seen what they can do. I feel they're our best chance for success," Rex replied.
Anakin regarded his captain with a neutral enough gaze, but he knew he was not hearing the full truth. There had to be a reason Rex was not taking his own tried and true soldiers on this mission.
"Fear of failure? Fear of finding out that this was all wishful thinking. He doesn't want his men to think he was foolish," Anakin concluded. "He doesn't understand that they could never see him that way."
But out loud, he gave his consent. "If that's what you think is best."
"Yes, Sir, I do."
Anakin turned to Hunter. "Did Rex brief you on the details of this mission?"
"Just that we're headed for Skako Minor to try and find the clone who's sending the live signal we detected at the cyber center," Hunter replied, then turning to Rex. "You said his name was Echo, the one you thought was killed at the Citadel."
"That's right," Rex replied.
"Sounds like our kind of job," Hunter stated. "When do we get started?"
"Be ready to go in fifteen minutes. We'll meet on pad 12B—"
"General Skywalker, if I may make a suggestion," Hunter interrupted. "We should use our transport. It's not the most luxurious in the galaxy, but it doesn't exactly scream 'Republic' like the rest of these. And for a covert operation like this, we don't want to draw any unwanted attention."
Anakin inclined his head. "Sounds like a good plan to me. Alright, fifteen minutes at your ship."
Rex appeared somewhat anxious. "Fifteen minutes? Shouldn't we leave now, Sir?"
"Fifteen minutes," Anakin reiterated, then with a sidelong glance at his captain, he added with as much casualness as he could muster, "First, you and I have that thing to do."
Rex looked at his commanding general with a lack of understanding. "What thing?"
Anakin was firm, and his tone of voice told Rex precisely what he meant. "You know."
Rex, the realization dawning on him, felt suddenly uncomfortable. "We—don't have time for that, Sir," he said quickly with a furtive glance in Hunter's direction.
Anakin turned bodily to face him. "Yes, we do."
Hunter, bemused by the exchange, took a step back. "Well, I'll just let you two sort this out."
"Fifteen minutes, your ship," Anakin reiterated.
"We'll be waiting for you, General."
As Hunter moved away, Anakin turned to his captain. "Come on, Rex, I'm late as it is."
Rex could not help but glance anxiously round him for fear someone might be passing by or directing unnoticed attention in their direction. Ever since he'd taken on this new role, he'd often felt as if just about everyone could see through him, that each and every trooper knew of his duplicity.
Sentinel was not a job to which Rex took readily. Yet, as they approached the barracks connexes, he also felt a sense of humbleness in that his commanding officer trusted him with his greatest secret.
Rex had known for two years of the relationship between General Skywalker and Senator Amidala. He'd skirted on the periphery of the illicit romance day after day, month after month, never letting on that he knew what was going on; and yet there had developed a tacit understanding between him and his Jedi general. An understanding that the relationship, though never spoken of between captain and general, was the equalizing force that helped bring balance to the latter's life.
As the months had worn on, revealing more and more frequently, small frozen frames of shared tenderness, Rex had slowly become the confidante. Not that Anakin ever spoke to him of Padme; that would be unfitting. But the knowledge that Rex was aware of the situation had given Anakin a shield of sorts. A cover.
A look-out.
"I already checked it out. Hoth Company barracks is empty. They're out on the line right now," Anakin explained as they strode across the marshalling area to the other row of barracks.
"Sir, I . . . you're going to have to make this one fast," Rex said carefully. "I didn't tell Hunter that the mission was . . . not approved."
"What? Why not?"
"Well, I thought we'd be leaving right away, and I could just tell them once we were enroute," Rex replied. "I was afraid if I told him, and he told the others . . . well, Wrecker is so loud and has so little sense, I didn't want to risk him bursting out and other troopers overhearing it."
Anakin simpered. "And this is the team you want to bring along on this mission?"
"They do have their strong points, Sir."
"I'll take your word for it," Anakin conceded. They were at the entrance to the Hoth Company barracks, and Anakin held out his hand expectantly as Rex handed over his helmet.
With that, Anakin disappeared into the conex, leaving Rex to stand awkwardly outside.
Inside, Anakin confirmed the conex was still empty. He had never been able to use the regular holocon stations for fear of revealing his secret. That had often meant many weeks or even months without seeing or communicating with Padme. But now he'd found a way to use his own HOPO with Rex's helmet enhancement feature, bypassing the station monitoring while still allowing him to put through a communication.
That was what he was doing now.
When the image of Padme, life-sized and shimmering in the darkness of the conex, materialized to greet him, Anakin found his moment of peace and respite from the war. It wasn't just her external beauty that held him captive; it was all the beauty he knew inhabited the soul that animated the body.
"You're late again."
Anakin smiled at the sound of her voice, even as she gently chided him.
"Padme, I am so sorry," he apologized. "We didn't anticipate the outer rim sieges would last this long."
"That would be why they call it 'the siege', Anakin," Padme pointed out good-naturedly.
"I know. I just thought that I—I—"
"You thought that you could bring a swift end to the conflict single-handedly," she smiled. She knew him so well, his confidence in his own abilities, his urgency to bring the war to quick end for, among other reasons, his desire to be with her. She had often thought that if she had agreed to leave the Senate, Anakin would agree to leave the Army; and they could go off and live a secret, private on some far-removed planet. Yet, more recently, she'd realized that neither she nor Anakin would ever be able to bring themselves to abandon the roles to which they'd been called. She, to be one of the few dissenting voices in the Senate against the war. He, to be the great leader of troops, the beacon around which the soldiers rallied.
As long as the war went on, they would both have to live their secret separation. Moments like this were not frequent enough.
"Yeah," he admitted.
She chuckled. "Anakin, what you're doing is important. They need you on the front lines, just as they need my voice in the Senate."
"I know," Anakin sighed. "It's just hard being apart for this long. And talking this way . . . by holocon . . . I want to be with you in person."
"The time will come," Padme assured him. "The siege won't last forever." She smiled. "At least Rex is able to, uh . . . lend a hand."
Anakin nodded, and Padme detected something in his reticence. Something was weighing on his mind, something he wanted to say but was withholding.
"Is something wrong, Ani?"
"I just—I hate being away from you," he replied.
Padme narrowed her eyes. "No, that's not it. Something else is your mind. What is it? Tell me, Ani."
On one hand, it made him happy that his wife was so attuned to his manner and emotions that she could detect when his mind was troubled. On the other, it was also somewhat frightening, making him wonder if he could ever keep a secret from her, even if he wanted to.
"It's Rex," he admitted. "I'm worried he's letting his personal feelings drive him too much on this mission."
Padme regarded him knowingly. "I wonder where he learned that."
Anakin inclined his head in concession.
Padme knew better than to inquire about any particulars of a mission. Operations security was still applicable, even in the communications between lovers. "Whatever it is, Ani, you'll know how to handle it. You've known Rex a long time. Sometimes, I think with the amount of time you two are together, he might know you better than I do," she teased.
Anakin beamed, moved by her ability to take his worries and reframe them with gentle humor. "He, uh, he does know me well. Maybe too well. He knows all the right words to say to get what he wants."
"That just means he's paid attention all these months," she replied. "He's taken on a lot of your characteristics, Ani. When you throw caution to the wind and take chances, where's he?"
Anakin nodded. "Right beside me."
"Then maybe that's where you should be for him," Padme replied. "If he feels a certain way about this mission, trust his instincts, Ani, like he trusts yours."
"I'm just trying to look out for him."
"I know you are," she replied, her heart swelling. This was yet one more example of why she loved him. That he should be concerned with protecting Rex from . . . whatever it was that might harm him – this was what made him the amazing man he was, the superior Jedi, the pinnacle military commander.
It was also a vulnerability, and she knew that as well. Such an open heart did little to distinguish between the virtues and vileness of what it allowed to enter. But that was where she stepped in. That was where Obi-wan stepped in. And, in her honest assessment, that was probably also where Rex had been stepping in on almost a daily basis, tempering the impetuosity of his commanding officer with just a slight injection of prudence. And knowing Rex, very slight. But slight was all that was needed.
"I love you," Padme told him, raising her hand.
Anakin mirrored the gesture. Image to image. "I love you, too."
The transmission ended. The feeling of emptiness that followed could not be permitted to last. If he allowed himself to dwell too long on how much he missed her, how much he wanted to feel her in his arms, the darkness would start to set in. All too easy it was for him to feel her absence and succumb to the longing.
He went quickly to the door and found Rex still waiting for him outside. He tossed the helmet back. "Thanks, Captain."
Rex began following him down the ramp. "Enh, Sir, you know I always feel like an idiot standing guard like that. Everyone knows it's not normal to see me . . . just standing around."
"I know, Rex," Anakin replied lightly. "You know I'm grateful, don't you?"
"Em, it's not about gratitude, Sir—"
"And I know you understand," Anakin added with emphasis.
Rex actually colored. This was not the first time his commanding officer had alluded in some obtuse way to the relationship Rex had formed on Bertegad with Maree; but it was not something they had ever discussed. Nor would it be, if Rex had any say in the matter. What had transpired between him and the Doma was his private business, with only Cody being in on the full extent of his feelings; and he intended to keep it that way.
"Yes, General," he frowned, and that was the end of the subject.
As they continued towards their rendez-vous with Clone Force 99, Rex voiced a concern that had had time to fester as he'd been waiting outside the barracks. "Are you still sure about this, General? You and I could get in big trouble over this, Sir."
"How so?"
The flippancy of the answer came as no surprise to Rex.
"The Jedi Council disapproved this mission," the captain replied. "We'll be bugging out in the middle of a major battle—"
"To do what we set out to do from the very beginning," Anakin stated. "We're going to find the source of the algorithm and shut it down. The Council may think it's easier to retrain the entire GAR with new strategies and tactics—" He rolled his eyes in disdain as he spoke. "—but GAR HQs will feel differently." A pause. "If they ever find out."
"So . . . we have no permission from anyone," Rex supposed.
"We have my permission."
"And your permission is all that's required, is that it?" The sound of Obi-wan's voice from behind them made them both stop and turn.
"You have to stop sneaking up on people, Obi-wan," Anakin jibed.
"Well, how else am I going to learn what's really going on around here?" A pause as General Kenobi crossed his arms over his chest. "It sounded like the rescue mission—the one the Council just disapproved—is going to be undertaken anyway. Did I understand that correctly?"
"Perfectly," Anakin replied.
Obi-wan shook his head. "You are both going against the express orders of the Council, and what you're proposing is a reckless and dangerous mission."
Anakin opened his mouth to reply, but Rex beat him to it. "General, if Echo's alive and being held hostage by the enemy, we can't just leave him there. I won't leave him there."
"If he's still alive, your intentions are honorable, Rex. But defying the Council's orders for a personal crusade on a neutral planet, no less, that is not advisable," Obi-wan warned
"With all due respect, General, but this isn't just a personal crusade," Rex pushed back. "Even if the Separatists don't have Echo, they still have my algorithm, which gives them a tactical advantage here on Anaxes and on every battle front."
"Master, it's a simple snatch and grab mission," Anakin insisted. "We'll be in and out before the Council even knows we're gone. That is . . . if you don't say anything."
Obi-wan frowned. "When have I ever been able to talk you out of anything once you've set your mind to it?" A pause. "How many men are you taking with you? This isn't exactly a good time to be taking men off the battlefield."
"Only Clone Force 99," Rex replied. "None of my 501st troops. None of the 212th. Just those four, the General and me."
Anakin confirmed this with a nod.
"I won't lie, if anyone asks me," Obi-wan conceded at last. "But you'd better be back here within four hours. That's it, Anakin. Four hours. If it's this easy 'snatch and grab', as you say, that should be plenty of time."
"Thank you, General," Rex sighed with relief. At a glance from his own general, he continued on his way to meet the rest of the team.
"Thanks, Obi-wan," Anakin said gratefully once Rex was out of earshot. "This means a lot to him. But it means a lot to me, too. I need to make sure Rex gets the answers he's looking for. I owe that to him after all he's done for me."
"Well, this little trip might end up getting both of you removed from command," Obi-wan warned. "Honestly, Anakin, I thought you would have learned something after all your battalion just went through with the investigations into the deaths of Generals Krell and Tiplar. I know Admiral Tarkin and the Chancellor let you off easy this time, but don't start thinking you're untouchable. And don't start thinking your captain is untouchable. The Chancellor may be your patron, but whether or not that is a good thing is questionable."
Anakin was not going to respond to this. It was too aggravating. Let Obi-wan and the Council fret over Chancellor Palpatine like they always did. In the meantime, Anakin had a mission. That was where he would focus his attention.