Dear Reader, First a thank you to my reviewers of the previous chapter: Akira-Hayama, LLTC, Ms CT-782, Sued13, ichkak, and Princess-Rey-Tano. So, you will see here where I start to depart very much from canon and Season 7. I definitely do not adhere to any of the Rebels storyline. I hope you can overlook that and enjoy the alternate universe! Also, if any of you are Doors fans, you will notice where I steal a line from "Hello, I Love You." Peace, CS

Chapter 130 Surprises

"No one is so brave that he is not disturbed by the unexpected."

Julius Caesar

"Hmmm . . . multiple imagery casting. Nice." Three Point was impressed with the military upgrades that had been installed aboard the shuttle in preparation for this mission. While he'd received a thorough briefing on the ship's capabilities prior to departure, he was only now absorbing all the functionality at his fingertips. He had a long wait while the others were investigating the facility, and this was a good way to make use of the time. "Triple redundancy in the sequencer. Now, that's beautiful."

"You sound like you're about to make love to this crate," Zinger grinned.

"At least she wouldn't have any complaints," Three Point replied. "This is the kind of girl I know how to handle."

"Geez," Moog grimaced. "Sad substitute for the real thing."

"Says someone who thinks old-fashioned longwave radio is tantalizing," Three Point teased.

They'd set the shuttle down between two crumbling buildings in the ghost town, done a comm check with General Kenobi, set their scanners on full-range detection mode, then settled down for the wait. Three Point had immediately immersed himself in the gadgetry. Zinger was already plotting escape vectors for every possible scenario. Moog was monitoring communications.

It was going on just short of one hour since they'd dropped off the team, so there was still plenty of time to fill. Such long waits of inaction were to be expected as a mission pilot and aircrew.

But what was not expected was the sudden pinging of the proximity scanner.

Moog checked the feeds from the exterior-mounted cameras.

There was nothing out of the ordinary.

"I don't see anything," he reported. "Running a thermal imaging sweep. Woah—hey, I'm picking up something."

Three Point and Zinger came and looked at his console. Just behind the corner of one of the adjacent structures was the heat signature from a human body.

"You think that's our informant?" Zinger asked.

"Well, it's not a droid," Moog replied. "But there's no way to tell if they're friendly or hostile."

"Only one way to find out," Three Point stated. "Moog, get your weapon. We're going out. Zing, keep the guns trained in that direction and ready to fire in case there's trouble."

"You really think it's a good idea to go out there?" Zinger said doubtfully.

"Well, if whoever it is has plans to report our presence back to someone, then we need to make sure that doesn't happen," Three Point replied.

"I could do that from here with a nice, clean shot—"

"And if they're an innocent party, a vagabond or something? We're not going to be that reckless. You're just trigger-happy," Three Point grinned. "Just keep an eye on our six."

Three Point and Moog exited the shuttle and quickly made for the cover of a corner wall of the one the buildings between which the shuttle sat. They both activated their night vision features and scanned the area. The figure was no longer where it had been standing earlier.

"You take left. I'll go right," Three Point said. "He couldn't have gone far, and there aren't that many places to hide."

Moog nodded and moved at a quick clip to a tumbled down stone wall, where he took cover and searched the area again. As a communications specialist, he had a few tricks up his sleeve, and he made use of one of them now. He was able to modulate the speaker component inside his helmet to pick up even the slightest of sounds, like the flutter of insect wings or the breathing of a man one hundred meters away. He normally kept such features turned off, as the sounds could become overwhelming and distracting. But he used it now.

Right away, he picked up the sounds of two bodies in motion. Both off to his right. He knew Three Point was one. That meant the intruder had to be the other.

"Three Point, I hear someone moving in your area," he said over the helmet comm.

There was a moment of silence, then came Three Point's voice.

"I've made contact. Get over here."

"Hostile?"

"I'm about to find out."

Only seconds after he'd separated from Moog, Three Point had come to the far end of the building he'd been using as cover. As he'd stepped into the open space between buildings, a figure had stepped out of the alleyway.

Three Point had whirled around and now both men stood facing each other, weapons leveled.

The stranger was wearing clone armor – commando armor. "You're a clone," the stranger said. "We're both clones."

Three Point wasn't so easy to convince. "Pop the top," he ordered. "Wearing the armor doesn't mean you're a clone. Drop your weapon and show me your face."

The stranger crouched down and set his blaster on the ground. As he rose, he removed his helmet, revealing a clone's face.

"My name is Gregor."

Three Point did not lower his weapon. "I've heard that story. Captain Gregor, the commando that was stranded here and died aiding the escape of a Republic task force."

"I didn't die," the man replied. "I survived. It's really me. You can scan my id chip. Do whatever you want. You'll find out I'm telling the truth."

"How could you have survived?"

"It's . . . a long story."

"I've got the time," Three Point grunted with a sneer.

Moog joined him. "He's a clone," he remarked.

"Says he's Captain Gregor—"

"He does have the armor," Moog noted.

"Listen, I'm the one who sent the messages!" Gregor put forth. "I'm the one who was trying to get the Republic out here to see what's going on!"

"Then you've got some explaining to do," Three Point said. "Those communications were intercepted going through Separatist relay stations. They were sent out as general messages, unencrypted, traveling via Separatist comm channels."

"I know. That's how I did it," Gregor insisted. "There used to be a Separatist outpost here. They were financing the rhydonium mines for increased production. About six months ago, a group of droids showed up with a Republic officer, and they—they helped me remember who I was. I'd suffered a head injury and had amnesia. They helped me, and in return, I helped them escape from this planet, and I blew up the outpost. The Separatists didn't re-established it right away. They left behind a lot of equipment, including communications equipment. I rigged a set up out here in the desert, and I used old codes that I remembered, and I inserted my messages into the Separatist relay feeds."

"So, why did you send those messages? Was it just to get rescued?" Moog asked.

"No, no," Gregor replied. "I . . . didn't even care about getting rescued. I wanted to warn the Republic about that facility out there. Okay, okay, initially, I did want to get off this planet and back to the Republic. So, I scavenged all the equipment I could and brought it out here. I didn't want to stay in Pons Ora, in case the Separatists ever came back, which they eventually did." A pause. "But after hiding out here a couple weeks, I saw ships coming down and landing just to the south of here. They weren't warships, and I was curious, so I went to check them out. I don't know what planet they were from, what race they were. They weren't droids. They brought in hundreds of ships and workers and began building that . . . thing you see out there. It wasn't until about two months later that I saw the first Separatist ship land, and I got as close as I could to try and see who it was. But I couldn't tell anything other than that they were Pergars."

"Pergars? They're petrologists."

"Yeah. That's when I knew something was going on. What were Pergars doing on Separatist warships? When the thing was completed, everyone left, but it still continued to function on its own. I couldn't figure out how it worked or how to stop it, or even if I should try. I don't know what it is, but if the Separatists are involved, it can't be any good. I had to find a way to get the Republic out here. I knew if I tried to send word through regular channels, while claiming to be a long-lost clone commando, the Republic would never take that seriously. I had to send it through enemy lines that I knew the Republic would be monitoring. And it must have worked, because you're here."

"Well, here's the deal," Three Point began. "We'll keep your weapon until we can confirm you're who you say you are. So, we'll go to our ship and do a scan on your ID. And maybe you can tell us everything you know about that facility. Agreed?"

"Agreed, but I don't think there's much I can tell you."

They headed back to the ship where Zinger met them at the top of the ramp.

"Zing, meet Captain Gregor," Three Point said, somewhat tongue-in-cheek. "That's who he says he is. We're just going to make sure."

"Well, he does look like us," Zinger noted.

Moog was already taking out the scanner. He ran it over Gregor's wrist.

"He does have a chip."

"CC-5576-39, captain, Foxtrot Group, Clone Commando Corps," Gregor provided.

"I'll be damned," Moog nodded. "That's what it says."

"In that case, welcome aboard, Captain," Three Point acknowledged, though he still sounded somewhat distrustful. "So, what can you tell us about that place?"

"Is it just you three?" Gregor asked.

"No," Three Point replied. "We have a team already enroute."

"Now? Right now?"

"Yes."

Gregor frowned pensively. "That might not be a good thing."

"Why is that?" Zinger asked.

"Because whatever that thing does, it's on a schedule. Not a regular schedule but like a . . . a reducing schedule that seems to start over every few weeks." Gregor sighed. "Look, the Separatists finally re-established small detachment here, but it's only a handful of droids and a dozen Pergars. I think it's just to make sure that thing keeps operating. If your team does anything to mess with its operation, the Separatists might notice and come out for a look."

"I'm sure they wouldn't do anything to mess with its operation," Moog stated.

"You feel that? Feel that? It's working right now! Come on!" Gregor headed for the ramp.

"Zing—"

"I know, wait here."

Three Point and Moog followed Gregor outside and to the southern edge of the ghost town.

"Wait a few seconds. There, there, you see that? That's the top of the dome rising. You can feel the vibrations all the way out here."

"Fek and all . . . and you have no idea what's going on inside that thing?" Three Point asked once more. "All this time you've been observing and you have no idea?"

"I've been doing everything I can to keep a low profile," Gregor retorted. "Digging around that place wasn't at the top of my list." He hesitated, hemmed and hawed a bit. Then admitted, "But I, uh, I have been out there a few times."

Three Point removed his helmet so that the commando captain could see his disgust. "I figured as much. Care to come clean, Captain? You might have information that will be helpful to the rest of our team."

Gregor nodded. "Originally, there was a small team of Pergars who manned a control center located next to the tank. They never left, so I couldn't get inside to look around. But after about three months, they were gone. They just up and left. I don't know it they're the ones who eventually went to the new outpost. But that's when I went to look around the first time. I broke in and saw that they'd just left everything. Nothing had power to it. There were consoles there, but when I tried to use a mobile power source, they all came up empty. All data had been erased. There was a passageway that led to the outer wall of the tank. I took a chance and opened one of the maintenance hatches to see what was inside. It was empty. Every time I went, it was empty."

"How many times did you go?"

"Eight . . . ten," Gregor replied. "But I didn't hang around too long. I was afraid of being discovered."

"Do they have monitoring systems?"

"If they do, they never saw me – or they never came after me."

"Well, I think—" Three Point began but the sound of General Kenobi's voice coming over the emergency channel broke across the night.

"Endeavor One!" The general was using the shuttle's call sign for the mission.

"This is Endeavor One. Three Point here," Three Point replied via wrist comm.

"Three Point, we need an immediate pickup on the eastern side of the tank . . . near where the control center was."

"On our way, General," Three Point replied. "Hostiles?"

"Negative . . . just . . . some trouble."

The three men hurried back to the shuttle. Shortly after lifting off, another transmission was incoming.

"Endeavor One, this is Commander Cody. We need an evac from the coordinates I'm sending right now. We have an injury."

"Roger that, Commander. We got a call from General Kenobi, as well. We're enroute to his position. Do you require us to come there first?" Moog replied.

"No, if General Kenobi's team is on your way, pick them up first."

"Copy. Enroute." The comm specialist made a wry grin. "Maybe they did find a way to mess things up."

"Uh . . . General, we're not safe here," Boom said with a warning in his voice. "Look."

From where he stood with the rest of his team, fifty meters from the control station, the entrance to which was now oozing purple liquid, Obi-wan saw immediately what Boom was referring to. The liquid was snaking across the surface in multiple rivulets. And everything it touched began to disintegrate.

That included the interior passageway surrounding the cylinder.

As its foundation began to erode, the tank began to shift – slowly and without any sense of impending cataclysm, but who knew what might come next. They were only now beginning to feel the earth vibrate with the movement.

"Come on, let's put some distance between us and them," Obi-wan ordered. He raised his wrist comm. "Anakin, we're detecting a loss of stability at the facility."

On the opposite side of the structure, Anakin smirked. Obi-wan was a master of understatement.

Loss of stability?

The place was starting to come apart.

"We see it, Obi-wan," Anakin replied. "We're going to move further away."

No sooner had he finished speaking than the night grew silent and with a final shudder, all movement stopped.

Blackthorn checked his scanner – the one Dogma had saved for him.

"I'm detecting no more activity in the cylinder, General," he announced. "And . . . everything is solid again. It looks like there's considerable structural damage, but at the moment, the flooding has stopped."

"Well, we don't know when that thing might fire up again, so let's take this opportunity to get as far away as we can. The tunnels reached out pretty far. We don't want to be over one if there's a collapse," Anakin said, his voice growing thin at the end. Then he turned to Cody. "Take over, Commander."

Within five minutes, they had moved off further west; and this was where the shuttle picked them up.

And this was where they discovered a new member had been added to their team.

Obi-wan took care of the introductions.

"Meet our informant," he announced. "This is Captain Gregor, Foxtrot Group, Commando Corps."

Anakin, enroute to the shuttle's small medical alcove to be turned over to Slider, was surly.

"Captain," he nodded curtly. "Nice to meet you. You might have sent us a bit more warning about what was going on inside that thing."

Anakin was ushered away before Gregor could respond, so he looked plaintively at Obi-wan. "I was afraid if I tried to send too much information, the messages would be detected. And . . . I didn't really know what was going on."

"You did well enough, Captain," Obi-wan assured him. He contacted the bridge. "Three Point, get us out of here fast. I'm sure the results of our handiwork have been noticed. We don't want to be around when the enemy shows up."

"Yes, General."

In the passenger bay, Major Swin conferred with Blackthorn and Redi. "Did you both get good readings?"

Redi inclined his head. "Lots of readings. I don't know how good they are. I took some samples of the solids, too."

"Samples? Wasn't it rather dangerous to take samples of something you knew nothing about? It might have been highly volatile when split," she commented.

"Pitch and Boom assured me it was safe as long as I didn't use heat," Redi answered.

Pitch joined in. "It was a corrosive agent in liquid form, obviously. Most chemical components that are explosive in nature have certain characteristics. This stuff had some of those characteristics, but it appeared to be in some . . . interim phase where it was mostly inert."

"Mostly inert? Or partially explosive? That's an interesting way to put things," the major remarked. "Do you think it has a gaseous form?"

"Hard to say," Pitch replied. "It's a good question."

Her attention was drawn as Captain Rex returned from making sure his general was safely installed in the medical station.

She walked over to him. "How is General Skywalker?"

Rex grinned. "Enh, he's not a good patient." A pause. "Slider gave him a little something to ease the pain. He's resting comfortably."

"That's good." She stared at him unabashedly. "I haven't had a chance to thank you yet for saving my life back there."

"I appreciate that, Major; but it was General Skywalker who saved you. I just made a lucky catch," Rex replied with the requisite humility.

Donya found him beguiling at that moment. He was almost demur, but without the softness. He took nothing for himself. He gave nothing away.

"A good catch, wouldn't you agree?"

Rex gave a one-shouldered shrug. "I don't know about that. The skin of my fingertips. One centimeter and I would have missed."

Beguiling and dense as the fog around the Fifth Moon of Minuska. Could he truly be missing her meaning? She had even made sure to pour on the innuendo in her tone. But in a way, his unartful manner made him more endearing.

"Well . . . I'm glad you didn't," Donya smiled, resigned to letting this moment pass. After all, they were in a shuttle bay with many other people present. A better time would surely present itself.

And if it didn't, she would create a moment on her own.

The initial mission de-brief was short and arduous.

More questions than answers had arisen as a result of the recon. Now came the hard part of analyzing the data and determining next steps.

A follow-up briefing was scheduled for the next morning.

The discovery of Gregor was of great interest to the GAR leadership, and he was immediately scheduled for extensive debriefs with the operations security and intelligence offices aboard Challenger.

The rest of the team, following the initial de-brief, dispersed to their individual pursuits.

And Rex's pursuit was food.

Cody joined him.

"Heading to the mess hall?"

"No," Rex replied. "I think I'll take this one in my room. I want to go over the data."

"Yeah, that was one of the most . . . bizarre recon missions I've ever been on," Cody remarked. "And I feel absolutely no more knowledgeable than before we started."

"Well, I think a good place to start would be with the Pergars. What were they doing on Abafar?"

"Good question," Cody agreed. "They specialize in the composition of rocks. Seems like an odd thing for a planet that's comprised mostly of Gliandulate."

"With some rhydonium thrown in for good measure," Rex added. "How about we look at the data and bounce some ideas off each other over lunch?"

"Sounds good to me."

It was as if he could move right through the rock. He could see on the other side.

The metal things . . . the non-living things. They were coming.

But they were no cause for alarm.

The man who entered behind them . . . here was the source of terror. The darkness enveloped him.

He was evil. And he was coming.

"Escape! Escape! Follow me!"

"We have to go back! General—General Skywalker, we have to—"

The connection . . . it was suddenly hanging by a thread.

"I must continue. Up ahead! Daylight! A way out! Run! You must run faster! Why are you so slow?!"

A sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

The daylight revealed, not deliverance, but defeat.

He was too late.

They were gone. Aloft and retreating.nakin awoke with a start.

He was suspended in a bacta tank. He didn't even remember going in.

And now, he was being taken out.

He'd done bacta tanks often enough to know what to expect, and thirty minutes later, he was in a nice clean hospital bed, taking his first tentative sips of proform.

But only one thing was on his mind.

The dream. Nightmare. Vision. He wasn't sure what to call it. It was part and parcel of the same drama of which bits and snatches had been shown to him. And it put a certain degree of fear in his heart that seemed to increase with each occurrence.

Major Hypes approached the bed. "General Skywalker, how are you feeling?" he asking, pulling Anakin out of his morose recollections.

"Soggy," came the reply.

The major chuckled. "I can imagine. The bacta was very successful. Fortunately, the break was clean and should mend up without any problems."

"How long?"

"We can speed things along a bit with some injections of regen serum. Two weeks, then another two weeks of physical therapy. Maybe less, given the remarkable rate at which Jedi heal. We can play it by ear as far as returning you to duty."

"The sooner the better, doc." A pause. "Would you contact Rex and tell him to come down here?"

"I'd be glad to, General," Hypes replied. "Uh, it is almost three o'clock in the morning, though."

"Oh . . . yeah, I lost track of time in there," Anakin said.

"Everyone does."

"That's okay, then. He's probably asleep. I'll send for him in the morning."

"Will you be needing anything else, General?"

Anakin raised an eyebrow. "Something solid to eat?"

Hypes grinned. "You know the rules, General. No solids for—"

"For six hours. Yes, I know, I know. But hey, you can't blame me for trying."

"Three in the morning. Who—who's coming here at three in the morning?"

It could only be Cody. And if it were, Rex would have some choice words for his friend. Wasn't it enough they'd already spent the entire afternoon and most of the evening together going over the mission data from Abafar? Did he have to come interrupt what had been a very peaceful sleep?

Rex opened the door to his quarters.

Major Swin stood opposite him.

And Rex suddenly became very aware that he was wearing only the standard issue undergarment, a pair of grey briefs. He experienced a remote sense of relief in the fact that he was wearing anything, for he usually slept naked off duty – or in full armor when on a mission.

"Oh . . . Major Swin," he said awkwardly.

"Captain, I was hoping you'd still be awake," she replied, not sounding the least bit tired, given the hour.

"Is everything alright?"

"Yes, yes. I wanted to tell you . . . we've been going over some of the data from Abafar all night, and there are some very excited things I wanted to show you."

Rex was dumbfounded. "Right now?"

"Oh—well, I was so excited, and I wanted to see if you're seeing the same things we are," she replied. "I thought it would be good to get your opinion before the followup briefing. We just finished up, and I couldn't wait to show you."

Rex saw the data pad in her hand.

"Okay. Okay. Come in." He retrieved the blue-grey utility uniform from his closet and pulled it on.

Donya had already sat down in one of the chairs. She quickly synced her data pad to the desk top holo projector in Rex's room.

"So, Pitch and I have spent the last—I've lost count—ever since the briefing ended, we've been going over every study we could find on the Pergars composite work. One by one, we backtracked each compound to see if any of them were derivatives of rhydonium. We could get within two or three phase points, but then there were too many possible combinations to pinpoint just one." Her voice grew even more excited, almost conspiratorial. "Then Redi pointed out that in communications intercepted going to and from Saracor . . . " She brought up two comparison comm scripts. "Some of the same data elements are present."

"Rhydonium is also mined on Saracor," Rex noted.

"Not only that." She put up another holo image, and this one make Rex sit up and take notice.

"Is that a . . . "

Major Swin completed his sentence with satisfaction in her voice. "Kyber crystal." A pause. "But kyber crystals are rare, especially the massive type that the ancient Sith used to create their superweapons. And do you know what one of the components used to make synthetic kyber crystals is?"

"Rhydonium."

"A derivative of it." She shook her head in amazement. "Pitch figured it all out. He's truly a brilliant man when it comes to . . . things that go boom. He's a physicist, chemist, and demo expert all rolled into one. He believes that once the transformation process is begun, it's self-energizing and self-regulating. The properties of the liquid rhydonium are such that once it's infused with . . . oh, what did he call it, Seperscan—Seprascan . . . oh, some other chemical, it starts a reaction that proceeds in cycles. That's why it needs no power source once it's started, and it needs no one to monitor it."

Rex listened intently. The major went on for at least another hour, going through minutiae that Rex figured was standard for an intel officer.

But at last, he had to admit that it was getting so detailed that he might end up sitting here all night. And the fact was that there were others who needed to hear this information, as well.

"Hold up," he said with a pleasant smile. He wanted to find a way to turn her off without putting her down. He truly had no idea what kind of woman he was dealing with. "That's a lot of great information, a little on the technical side for me. It's best put forth at tomorrow's briefing."

"It is tomorrow," Donya pointed out.

Rex nodded in concession. "Okay then, this morning's briefing. And in that case, I think it's best if we both got some decent sleep."

Donya waited for the invitation. At this point, most men would have offered her their bed while they slept on the couch or the floor. Or, in some cases, with the hope of sharing a bed. But no such offer was forthcoming. Instead, Rex escorted her to the door.

Before leaving, she turned and asked, "So, how did I do on my first recon mission?"

Rex was still smiling. "Very well. You kept up with everyone. You were calm under pressure." A pause. "You showed that you really can hold your own."

By the four corners, he was handsome. And the way he was looking at her . . . she knew that look. She'd seen it so many times before. Barely concealed desire, hoping she'd make the first move, wondering if he dared attempt to pluck this dusky jewel.

"In more ways than one," she replied, and with that, she kissed him.

For Rex, it was a bizarre moment. His second kiss ever but with none of the delicate tenderness of his first. He did not respond, and it took him only an instant to realize that some reaction was necessary.

He drew back.

"What are you doing?" he asked quietly.

"I wanted to kiss you," Donya replied frankly. "I saw how you were looking at me, Captain. I gave you what you wanted, and you didn't even have to ask."

"Uh, I think there's been a misunderstanding here, Major," Rex replied.

"You're saying you didn't want me to kiss you?"

"That's correct, ma'am."

Donya didn't believe a word he was saying. "Don't you find me attractive, Captain?"

Rex searched for his words. "You're very nice to look at and . . . very smart and capable. But I'm not attracted to you in that way."

Donya put on her best coy face, adopted her best coy voice. "In what way?"

"I don't want to kiss you."

Rex's bluntness frustrated her playfulness, but she wasn't ready to throw in the towel quite yet.

"Well, this is funny. You're the first man to ever reject me, Rex," she stated. "Most men jump at the chance to be with me."

Rex replied evenly, "I don't even know you. We've known each other less than 24 hours. We've been in each other's company for less than six hours. And a lot of that was spent running from danger."

She moved closer. "You could get to know me better."

"It's flattering that you feel that way about me, but it's not how I feel and it's not what I want," Rex replied.

Donya smiled and let out a sigh at the same time. "You are a puzzle, Rex. You certainly give off certain . . . hints, and then you pretend you're not interested. Or maybe . . . maybe this is something you're not even allowed to do. Most of the clones I work with don't have relationships either. They're all work all the time."

Rex imagined she had no idea what went on once those clones left the office and dove into the depths of Coruscant. But those hardly qualified as 'relationships'.

"Are you allowed to be with a woman, Rex?" Donya asked.

"We're the property of the Republic," Rex answered evenly. "That makes it very hard to have a relationship. We're men, so we're attracted to women. But there's not much room for them in our lives."

"But you can fall in love just like anyone else, right? I mean, they didn't engineer that out of you, did they?" Donya asked, and her voice was almost challenging.

Yet, inside his head, Rex heard Maree's voice. "I believe falling in love would be impossible to avoid, if it is meant to be. In what capacity a lover chooses to act upon that love is another matter altogether."

"Yes, we can," he replied.

Something in his voice spoke the volumes his words did not.

"You've been in love . . . haven't you, Captain?" Donya asked, her manner shrewd. When Rex did not answer her, she pressed harder. "Why don't you want to answer me?"

"Because it's not an appropriate topic of discussion," came the flat reply.

Donya reached out and took his hand. "I'm not trying to be difficult. Look, I can't help but be attracted to you, and even though you won't admit it, I think you're attracted to me. A man like you isn't about to go through his whole life without knowing the comfort of a woman's arms."

"The right woman's arms," Rex corrected.

"So, who is she? Who is this right woman?" Donya asked with syrupy sweetness. She could neither believe nor accept the idea that there might be a woman who could beat her out for any man's heart. "And does she know you're not readily available to her, that you're property of the Republic?"

"She knows. Our situations are . . . similar. We understand each other in that regard."

Major Swin's eyes narrowed. "Similar situations? She's not available either, is that it? Is she a married woman? By the four corners, she's not a Jedi, is she? What's the big secret?"

That Rex was in some form of relationship with Maree might be his own business but it was not a secret. His reticence to discuss the matter was not out of any desire to keep it hidden, but rather because he considered it to be a private matter. But Major Swin's insinuations, her clear disdain for a woman whose identity she didn't even know . . . Rex found it hard to tolerate.

"It's no secret," he said. "She's a member of celibate religious order."

Donya let go of his hand and took a step back. The expression on her face was a cross between incredulity, horror, and laughter. "A—a celibate religious order? You can't be serious." A mocking smile spread across her face. "You're in love with a celibate woman . . . a religious woman, no less." She shook her head. "Well, that doesn't seem fair. It isn't right of her to ask you—to expect you—to go through your whole life without having sexual relations. That's crazy!"

Rex was placid, smooth as glass. "She didn't ask me to do it. It was my decision. I'm willing to wait."

"To wait? To wait until when? Does her celibacy have an expiration date?" Donya felt her derisive humor turning to anger. How dare this man pass her over for a woman he wasn't even sleeping with? "Well, that's an awfully tall order, Rex. I can tell, looking at you, you're the kind of man who needs a woman in his life who can give him everything, including a physical relationship." Once more, in a last ditch effort, she pressed close. "Don't you want to know what it feels like?"

Rex took a step back and around her, going to the door. "Good night, Major. There's a lot of good information to pass on tomorrow at the briefing. I'll see you there."

Donya shook her head and grinned in disbelief. "Well . . . I hope she's worth it."

Rex saw her out the door. "And more."

The door closed behind her. Donya scowled. "You should know, I don't give up that easy, Captain. And I haven't lost a play yet."

Anakin had just finished breakfast when Rex entered the infirmary.

"Ah well, good. That saves me having to comm him," Anakin said silently.

Rex approached the bed. "You look good, General. How do you feel?"

"A lot better than I did yesterday," Anakin replied. "The doc says two more weeks of healing, then two weeks PT. I'm going back to my quarters tomorrow."

"Will you be at the debrief this morning?"

"Remotely."

"I know Major Swin and Pitch made a lot of interesting discoveries," Rex stated. "I think you'll hear a lot of good analysis."

Anakin nodded. "Glad to hear it."

"Do you need anything, General?"

"No, I'm good," Anakin replied.

"Then I'm going to head for the briefing room, Sir."

"Uh, before you go, Rex, we need to have a little talk."

Rex straightened up, reflexively assuming a formal stance. "Yes, General?"

"There's still that little matter of you disobeying my direct orders. Not once but twice. I told you to lead the others out of the passageway, but you didn't listen to me."

"I'm sorry, Sir, I don't recall hearing you giving any such command," Rex replied.

Anakin raised a skeptical brow. "You were right there. I was shouting at the top of my lungs."

"I must not have heard you over all the noise and chaos." A pause. "And my own screaming."

"I didn't hear you screaming."

"You probably couldn't hear me over your own screaming, Sir," came the somewhat smart reply.

Anakin knew he was being toyed with, but it did not bother him. "I wasn't screaming. I was shouting."

"Then it must have been just me, Sir."

Anakin shook his head. It was the re-emergence of this light-hearted version of his captain that brought to the forefront just how fortunate he was to have him. "Either way, I owe you thanks for getting me out of there."

"After all the times you've bailed me out, I figured it's about time I returned the favor," Rex replied. "At this point in the war, the Republic can't afford to lose a single Jedi – especially their best."

Anakin took the compliment in stride, for he knew it was not flattery but his captain's true sentiments. "Yean, but I can't afford to lose you either."

"General, you don't really think that I would have been able to just leave you there, do you? I could never leave you to die, Sir. And that's what would have happened had we left you there. We're a team, General. We look out for each other."

Anakin grinned. "You're sounding awfully sentimental, Captain," he teased.

"Just . . . showing my concern, Sir."

"Well, just remember . . . it goes both ways."

The briefing was proceeding well.

Pitch's and Major Swin's discovery opened a whole new line of discussion and debate. But it was what Major Kamat presented, based on their discovery, that changed the entire course of the briefing.

"Sergeant Pitch came to me a few hours before the briefing and showed me what he and the major had discovered. He wanted me to pull up whatever imagery we had of Saracor and Tralgaria. The most recent spy probe images we had were from eight months ago for Saracor and over two years ago for Tralgaria." He pulled up a holo image. "As you can see, the same sort of structure exists on Saracor, but it looks like it's been destroyed. I set my team reviewing every log, image, communication we could find, and our opinion is that the facility was destroyed in an accident. There's no record of any kind of attack. We think this was a test facility for a new technology – the technology to create synthetic kyber crystals, and things got out of control and there was some kind of accident. Abafar was the next test facility. And then . . . " He put another image. "I sent in an urgent request for a probe to be sent to Tralgaria. And this is what came back. Yet another facility."

"They're trying to perfect the technology," Pitch spoke up. "And . . . actual crystals were detected on Tralgaria . . . in these store houses. Their signature is small, so it would appear they haven't figured out how to make the larger ones yet."

"But why kyber crystals?" Admiral Yularen wondered out loud.

"In ancient times, they powered the Sith's superweapons," General Windu replied via holo. "It would stand to reason that the Separatists are intending to create a new superweapon of their own."

"Destroy the facility on Tralgaria, we must," Yoda stated.

"Tralgaria is a neutral planet," Obi-wan pointed out. "The Republic has also bought rhydonium from them. If we decide that the facility needs to be taken out, we need to make sure we don't alienate the Tralgarians in the process."

"And . . . we can't risk using aerial bombardment. Not only is rhydonium extremely volatile, but so are kyber crystals. We have to take the facility with ground troops and find a way to take it out of action permanently without igniting what's in it," one of the senior mission planners at sector headquarters put forth.

"Has this mission been formally assigned to Sector 8?" Anakin asked via remote from his hospital bed.

"VOCO {Verbal Orders of the Commander}. We're awaiting the OPORD," the same mission planner replied. "But right now, I can tell you it's Admiral Pinquist's intention to send in Battle Group Trident, so I'm sure the 501st will see plenty of action."

Anakin grinned.

Plenty of action was just how he liked it.