Dear Reader, thank you, first of all, to my reviewers: ChristinaTM, Galaxy000, thaismarendaz, ichkak, Sued13, CinemaBane, and Writingfan27. As always, your reviews keep me motivated and are very much appreciated. So, these next few chapters are going to be short, because they are just very intense (to me, at least). I have to give fair warning that Rex goes through some pretty rough times coming up. I am not someone who feels comfortable with graphic torture scenes. I will set scenes but leave most of the gruesome details to the reader's imagination. Since this is only the first chapter involving torture, I'm keeping them short so as to not overload my own senses in the process of rewriting and revising. I would say, "I hope you enjoy", but there's not a whole lot to enjoy about what is coming up. This is what the story has been leading to the entire time: the bond Anakin has with Rex and how this situation impacts Anakin, which will become more obvious as additional chapters are posted. Peace, CS

Chapter 136 Planning Disobedience

"You must be ready to burn yourself in your own flame."

Also Spracht Zarathustra (Thus Spoke Zarathustra)
Friedrich Nietzsche

Jesse met General Skywalker outside the medical bay, as the latter stood in discussion with Double Barrel and Ajax. Ever since returning to the ship, the 501st second-in-command had felt as if everything was up in the air. The hangars were swarming with gunships carrying 501st and 212th soldiers, retreating from the planet; but there appeared to be no accountability of who was on each ship and how many ships had returned.

It wasn't until he'd been approached by Sixer, in the process of getting a head count, that he began to feel that things were calming down, getting organized. And then came the concussion of munitions as Challenger fell under attack, sending everyone to battle stations, further interrupting attempts to bring order to the landing bays.

When General Skywalker had comm'd him, he'd felt a swell of relief at hearing his general's voice and knowing that he'd made it safely back to Challenger. Laying eyes on him now added to that relief.

"General Skywalker."

Anakin went straight to the point. "Sixer said you were in one of the last ships to come back. Were there still men on the surface when you left?"

"I can't say for certain, General," Jesse replied. "Without communications, it was impossible to know who might still be down there. And there were so many of the enemy . . . everything was crazy."

"Did you see Rex?"

"No, Sir."

"Did you see Count Dooku?"

Jesse's expression betrayed his surprise at this question, but he replied evenly, "No, Sir. I didn't know he was down there."

It was becoming clearer with every passing moment that Rex had not made it back to the ship. And if what Pitch, DB and Ajax had reported was true - and Anakin had no reason to doubt them – then the possibility was very real that Rex was now in Count Dooku's clutches.

And that was not something Anakin would allow to stand.

But he needed to formulate a plan. He needed to figure out what course of action to take.

But first, he needed to get back down on Tralgaria. There was still a chance Rex was on the surface.

He looked at the three troopers staring back at him, waiting for him to announce what he was going to do, and he had no answer for them at the moment. Still, there were things that could be done in the interim.

"Jesse, get with Sixer. He's compiling a list of everyone missing," he began. "Get with Commander Cody. Find out how many ships didn't make it back. Rex isn't the only one unaccounted for. I want a strong case for going back."

"You don't think they'd actually decide not to go back, do you, General?" DB asked in disbelief.

A darkness fell over Anakin's face. "They decided to abandon them; they very well might decide it's too dangerous to go back."

"That's osik—uh, sorry, Sir," Ajax said. "I didn't mean to be disrespectful."

"Don't apologize," Anakin replied. "You're right. It is osik. But it's not over. I give you my word on that."

The memories fluttered up to the surface as he regained consciousness.

They were moving his cage into an enclosed room. Slick, grey tiled walls. An observation window in one wall. Bright, glaring lights making it hard to see anything other than the searing reflection of the rays projecting across the room. Small circular shapes on the ceiling. Absorb as many details as possible. Stay dispassionate. Observe. Don't let your thoughts wander.

The three Copians from the landing pad had not spoken a word to him. They had spoken between themselves, but their language of huffs and grunts was indecipherable without a translator. Their facial structures did not lend to expression interpretation. He had no idea what was going through their minds; but he knew the history of these people. He knew their claim to fame: their mastery of a swathe of techniques for extracting information.

The Copians left the room and closed the door.

He heard a hissing sound and looked up to see the circles in the ceiling opening. A yellowish gas began flowing into the room.

He would not have to worry about torture. They were going to poison him, kill him outright.

He wondered . . . would it be better to die now and forego what could amount to weeks or months of agony? Or would he rather have the opportunity to outlive their torture, to outsmart them . . . to . . . come through . . . alive . . .

Now, he knew they had not poisoned him. They had not killed him. He was very much alive. They had merely rendered him unconscious. As he awoke from the forced sleep, as the memories replayed in his mind, he also became slowly aware of his current circumstances. He was on his back on a hard, cold surface. His arms were stretched out at his sides. He could not move them. He could not move at all. Not his arms or legs, his head or chest. Every attempt felt as if he were fighting against some manner of restraint. The air was frigid – or was that an after-effect of the gas?

As his awareness increased, he could feel the pressure of straps at his wrists and ankles, his elbows and knees, hips and chest. The touch of a firm surface against both sides of his face and across his forehead, making it impossible to turn his head. He could not open his mouth, nor could he close it. He could feel something—a tube, it would seem—thread between his lips, intruding just beyond his teeth. It did not go down his throat. He had no gagging sensation. But he could not open his mouth around it. Nor could he clench his teeth—as if a guard had been inserted.

He felt a dull ache in one side of his neck. And as the gas continued to wear off, he felt similar pains, one in each arm at the elbow and one in each leg near his groin.

"All vascular access points . . . that means injections . . . "

He opened his eyes.

In contrast to the glaring lights of the gassing room, here all was soft, dim, almost dream-like. He could only see straight up towards the ceiling. The blocks on both sides of his head acted as blinders, and he could not see to the sides. He could not raise his head to look towards his feet. He could not tilt his head back to see what might be behind him. He had no idea what was happening around him. Only the occasional sound of slight movement let him know that there was activity in the room.

"Just breathe. Just breathe. You have to endure long enough for General Skywalker to find you. He'll come. You know that. Focus on breathing."

He could survive torture. He had to. Unless and until they snuffed his life out, he would persevere. He owed that to himself, to his men, to his general. He would resist. He would not give in. He would do whatever it took to survive.

Suddenly, the hideous face of a Copian appeared above him, peering down with the glittering bulbous eyes. Not quite as repulsive as their Aqualish cousins, the Copians were nevertheless some of the most unattractive creatures Rex had ever encountered.

This one, unlike Admiral Vhrenka, had pale skin and black eyes that were expressionless. Only one set of eyes, unlike the Aqualish; but one set was more than enough to give Rex the sense that he was being evaluated before the beginning of something.

A single grunt from the Copian as he continued watching his prisoner.

Rex felt something warm flow through his left arm. It wasn't painful. Or even uncomfortable. Just unusual. The warmth began to spread through his entire body. And then the opposite sensation started in his right arm. Cold. Cold fluid entering his system.

Within seconds, it began. A searing pain burning through his nerves. It was sudden and complete, reaching from the top of his head to his fingertips and the bottom of his feet. It was so consuming, he could not even scream, not make a sound beyond the involuntary spasms of inchoate gurgling trembling up past traumatized vocal chords.

The Copian continued to stare down at him. But Rex's vision was shrinking to two pinpoints, and then all went black. Yet, he was still fully awake, still feeling the full effect of the torture, the sense of being burned alive from the inside out.

And just when he thought he would mercifully lose consciousness, a strange taste filled his mouth, the same odor wafting through his nostrils. Something was being pumped into his mouth through the tube.

The pain began to subside.

He could see again. He could breathe again.

There was movement around him as his torturers loosed the straps holding him down.

But he still could not move. His limbs would not obey his commands.

He could see and hear and breathe and feel.

But he could not move.

"Fek . . . what have they done to me?"

Anakin staggered.

He'd been on his way to the bridge when it hit him.

A cold shudder. An indistinct vision.

Rex.

He knew whatever it was he was feeling was connected somehow to his captain.

The dreams and waking nightmares of the past were starting to fall into place. Yet, it was not something Anakin would have ever expected. Was it possible? Could it be possible that his connection with Rex had become so strong that he'd been able to see premonitions of what was happening to him now? Months ago, he'd seen visions of what had happened on Tralgaria. Only recently, he'd foreseen the eagle's reaching out to him in the Force.

He had not foreseen Rex's death, though. Unlike his mother's death, unlike Padme's death, he had not been shown Rex's death. That gave him hope. But it also drove the fear into his heart. What was happening to Rex? The thought of his captain in the hands of Dooku was terrifying.

And enraging.

The anger, the venom, the outrage . . . the black cloud began to descend once again over Anakin's heart.

The one person in the entire galaxy who had had his back, no matter how daring, crazy, or insane his plans. The one person who had always been ready and willing to give his life to protect him. The one person who knew when to employ quiet certitude or when to push forward with reckless abandon. The one person who never argued with him, never disagreed with his ideas, never humiliated him or doubted his prowess.

Anakin's heart hardened more with each thought.

The one person who believed in him no matter what the Jedi Council said . . .

He regained his balance and his composure and continued to the bridge, these thoughts occupying every corner of his mind.

Rex was irreplaceable.

By the time he arrived on the bridge, he was ready for a fight. And he knew a fight would be coming. He didn't know how he knew this. He only knew that if his captain were going to be saved, he was going to have to fight for him.

Anakin strode across the bridge with such purpose, he drew the attention of every bridge officer. They watched as his walked by above them. They could sense the anger and determination emanating from him. Only they imagined it was due to the mission failure. They did not know.

He approached the command station where Admiral Yularen stood with Obi-wan and two senior officers, conferring together.

"Admiral Yularen."

The admiral raised his head. "General Skywalker. Do you have numbers?"

Anakin had intended that he would drive this conversation, and he viewed the admiral's inquiry after numbers to be an attempt by Yularen to establish who was in control. Yularen didn't care how many were dead, missing, possibly left behind. Anakin was starting to wonder if he'd ever cared.

"Four confirmed dead. Eighteen injured. Eighteen unaccounted for," Anakin replied, adding pointedly, "Which means eighteen that might still be down on the planet."

"We're still waiting for a final count from the 212th," Obi-wan offered. "As of right now, we have eight ships and air crews missing."

"When are we going back?" Anakin cut straight to the point.

"That is still being reviewed," Admiral Yularen replied.

"Reviewed," Anakin said with a sarcastic nod. "By whom?"

"By Sector leadership—"

"And the Jedi Council?" Anakin snapped. "What can any of them know about what happened here? Sector doesn't have eyes on the surface. Neither does the Council. What are they going to tell us? We have men who might be down there waiting for us to come back for them."

"Anakin," Obi-wan began in that infuriating calm, reasonable voice that was his trademark. And it was the last thing Anakin wanted to hear right now. "We can't take the risk of going back into a situation where we're completely outgunned. That's what happened on the surface. We can't let Challenger fall into that same kind of trap."

"How long are we supposed to wait?" Anakin challenged, crossing his arms over his chest in a gesture of disdain.

"Contrary to your belief, Sector does have spies on Tralgaria. Both on the surface and in space. Once the Dreadnaughts have departed, and if Sector determines it's safe, we'll return," Yularen replied.

"Sector had no involvement in this mission," Anakin pointed out. "Why are we deferring to them now?"

"They're in our chain-of-command, Anakin," Obi-wan replied. "The mission is over. We're in the aftermath now."

"And part of that aftermath is going to find my men—"

"Anakin—"

"Rex didn't make it back," Anakin said forcefully. "And if you think, for one second, I'm not going to use every means at my disposal to find him, you should know me better."

Admiral Yularen drew in a deep breath. He was used to this sort of thing from General Skywalker. "I know disobeying orders is in your blood, General Skywalker. And I understand your concern for your captain and your missing men. But I have to act to protect this ship and everyone on board. I am responsible to carry out the orders handed down to me by my superiors. And unlike you, I obey my superiors. I can't tell you what to do. You're not in my chain-of-command. But nor can you tell me what to do. You won't stop me from doing what's in the best interest of this ship."

"But you'll try stop me from doing what in the best interest of my men," Anakin shot back. "Good luck with that."

He'd had enough. Every passing minute removed him further and further from finding out what had happened to Rex . . . and finding out if any of his missing men were still on the surface. Standing here and arguing about it was a waste of his time and energy.

"Let me know when the powers-on-high tell us what we can do," he sneered. "I'll be in my quarters."

He left. And Obi-wan left behind him, catching him up in the corridor.

"Anakin, I understand you're upset, but we have to exercise caution after what happened down there," Obi-wan implored. "Be reasonable. If Rex is still alive, you know he wouldn't want you to risk—"

"Don't," Anakin warned, turning and glaring at his friend and teacher. "Don't pretend you know what Rex would say. You don't know the bond between me and Rex."

Obi-wan was silent for a moment. "You're right, I don't. But I do know, as do you, the proscription against attachment—"

"I don't give a damn about that," Anakin seared. "I want my captain back."

"Anakin, you have to consider that he may . . . he may not have survived," Obi-wan cautioned.

Anakin shook his head. "I know he's alive." A pause. "I've . . . felt it."

"What do you mean?"

Anakin locked gazes with him. "You know what I mean. I can feel that he's alive. And in pain."

"Anakin . . . have you been trying to see the future?"

"No, no," Anakin replied. "These images just . . . come to me. And this isn't the future. This is right now. Something's happening to him. Right now." He swallowed hard before announcing, "Count Dooku was on the surface."

Obi-wan stared at him, stunned at this announcement.

"Pitch, DB and Ajax were with Rex," Anakin explained. "They all saw Dooku on the surface. They heard him say he was there for Rex."

Obi-wan looked perplexed. "That makes no sense. What would Count Dooku want with Rex?"

"They all saw and heard the same thing," Anakin replied. "DB's eagle showed me Rex trying to get away. I couldn't see what he was running from, but the eagle felt the evil coming. That evil was Dooku."

Several long seconds passed before Obi-wan spoke again. "And what if you go back and don't find him?"

"Then I'll keep looking."

"Anakin, the war is at a critical point," Obi-wan sighed. "We can't spare a single Jedi general." He put a hand on Anakin's shoulder. "Not even for a Soldier as good as Rex. You can't go off on a galaxy-wide search for him."

"Yeah? Who's gonna stop me?"

Back in his quarters, Anakin sat in a meditative pose. He wanted to establish the connection with Rex again, even though he had not initiated any of the previous visions. Maybe if he tried this method, he would be able to see more clearly.

But he had barely gotten started when the door chimed. With a grunt of frustration, he got to his feet and opened the door.

Jesse and Sixer.

"We have those final numbers, Sir," Jesse announced.

"Let's have 'em," Anakin replied.

Jesse looked to Sixer, who answered, "We're down to sixteen missing. The other two had been taken directly to the medbay and I missed them in my first count. They both died."

Anakin let this sink in. He didn't ask for their names. He didn't want to know. For the first time since becoming an officer in the GAR, he didn't want to know who had died.

"Thank you," he said quietly.

There was an awkward silence, then Jesse spoke up. "Captain Rex is still missing, General."

Anakin nodded slowly. "I know."

"Are we going back to the planet in case he and the others are still alive and waiting for rescue?"

Anakin despised the answer he was about to give. Despised himself for having to give it to these men who were as loyal to Rex as Rex was to him. "I don't know. That decision is out of my hands."

Jesse and Sixer exchanged bewildered, doubtful glances.

Jesse voiced his disinclination to believe what he had just heard. "If I may, Sir, you've never allowed anything to be out of your hands. If you're going back, we're going with you."

Anakin regarded these two excellent men, two outstanding soldiers. He would not involve them. He couldn't bring himself to embroil them in what he was planning.

"I'm not going back," he replied. "And you two shouldn't think about going back, either. That would be considered abandoning your posts. That's a court-martialable offense."

"General, we're talking about Captain Rex," Sixer pressed. "We'd risk everything to find him. And we know he'd do the same for us."

"Then, you run that risk on your own," Anakin replied. "Both of you need to go bring the battalion together. Tell them what's happened. Jesse . . . you're my new first-in-command."

"He couldn't have meant it," Sixer shook his head in disbelief as he and Jesse headed for the barracks. "He went after a fekking droid against all orders. You know he'd go after Rex."

"I know that," Jesse agreed. "You could see he wasn't telling us everything. He's going to go out on his own."

"Well, I'm not staying here," Sixer stated definitively. "If there's a chance Rex is alive, I want to go try and find him."

"You and me, both," Jesse concurred. "Right now, we need to do as the general asked and bring the battalion together and tell them what happened. And then, meet me in the barracks briefing room at 1900. Bring one other person you can trust."

Sixer knew what was now being set in motion.

"Sempe and I will be there."