Dear Reader, Thank you to my reviewers: cristinatodirasc, DojoYoyo, LLTC, Shadowlight17, Moonwatcher404, and Galaxy000. Great reviews and much appreciated! Happy reading! CS

Chapter 145 Doubts and Darkness

"Hold on to what is good, even if it is a handful of earth.
Hold on to what you believe, even if it is a tree that stands by itself.
Hold on to what you must do, even if it a long journey.
Hold on to your life, even if it is easier to let it go.
Hold on to my hand, even if some day I am gone away from you."

Pueblo Indian Prayer

"We've been able to slow the deterioration significantly, and we were able to go in and repair some of the damage." Fels au-Linus had come out to meet Doma Maree and the others upon their return to the healing rooms. "Just before you arrived, we got word from the research lab that they were able to identify and isolate the compound that is causing the cellular breakdown. Some kind of dehydrogenase element, producing an overabundance of acetaldehyde – but a permanent variation. It doesn't get broken down. It just keeps traveling through the body, breaking down more tissue and even the blood cells themselves."

Maree was not sure what to make of this news. She was not technically minded, but the fact that the doctors had pinpointed the cause of the deterioration seemed to be a good thing. But the question still remained.

"What can be done?"

"I was about to send someone to find you all," Linus replied. "He needs a transfusion. We could produce the blood ourselves, but it will be quicker if we use theirs. There is a good supply right here at our feet." A pause. "That will give the cold field a fighting chance to catch up."

Maree turned as Cody stepped up.

"Of course. We'll do whatever you need us to do," he said.

"I'll send someone to take you all to the lab," Linus replied, then he disappeared back into the operating room.

Within seconds, an assistant came out and led the clones—along with Yusani, who would not be separated from Echo—out of the waiting room, leaving just Anakin, Doma Maree, and Major Swin.

"It sounds like they're making some progress," Anakin offered tentatively.

Maree was not ready to agree with his assessment yet. "I was hesitant to ask him if Rex's chances had improved."

"I have to believe they have," Anakin replied.

Doma Maree remained silent. She would not know what to think until she had another opportunity to conduct the Skrit-na; and she was reluctant to do so until she felt she had the best chance to get a positive result—after the doctors had done the full extent of their work. It was too soon right now.

And so Maree fell back on the graciousness of her position and the universal demands of a proper hostess.

She looked to Major Swin.

"I apologize, my dear," she said. "I have not greeted you yet. Under the circumstances, I hope you will overlook my negligence." She inclined her head slightly. "I am Doma Maree, Head of the Orders of the Verviens and Austeniens. Welcome to the Monastica."

Unlike Doma Maree, who had had little time to notice the arrival of an unfamiliar face, Major Swin had spent a good deal of time since arriving on Bertegad studying every aspect of the Doma. Was this the 'holy woman' of whom Rex had spoken? He had said only that she was a member of a religious order. Still, judging from the woman's reaction to seeing Rex so gravely injured, Donya had a pretty good idea that this was the one.

And being an intel officer, she was certain that she could find out for certain with little difficulty.

"I'm Major Donya Swin," she said affably enough, but keeping with the seriousness of the situation.

"Major Swin is an intel officer," Anakin offered.

"I am glad to meet you," Maree said with as much a smile as she could muster, which was, indeed, meager. Then, to Anakin, "Have you been able to contact your leaders to let them know what is happening?"

Anakin grew somewhat stiff and the color rose in his cheeks. "This wasn't an authorized mission. We, uh, we did this on our own. We stole a ship and went out to find him."

"You . . . didn't have permission to go look for him?"

"No. They wouldn't support it," Anakin replied. "So . . . we decided to . . . sneak away and go on our own."

Maree absorbed the meaning of this revelation in silence for a long moment. "Kix said you've been searching for him for three weeks. That's a long time to be gone without permission. What will happen to all of you when you go back?"

This was a question Anakin had pushed repeatedly out of his mind. If he and the men had been AWOL for one week, they might have gotten off with disciplinary action, rank reductions, perhaps a short stint in the detention cells. But they were coming up on four weeks; and if Anakin were any judge, they would not be leaving here any time soon. For his own part, Anakin had decided, before embarking upon this journey, that he would not go back until he knew Rex's fate. If Rex were to die, that would end the mission. But they had not set out only to find him. They had set out to rescue him, to save him.

And now that they had rescued him, Anakin had no intention of leaving until he knew if Rex was going to survive.

No intention.

Yet, he knew he was running out of time. He could not stay indefinitely. Not only was the war still going on without him, not only had he left his battalion behind; but he had left his wife back on Coruscant. He had risked, only once, communication with her soon after setting out. Padme had understood what he was undertaking; she knew what Rex meant to him. In some way, she had seen even more clearly than Anakin himself, the attachment developing there.

Anakin had wished time and again that she was with him now. What a comfort her presence would have been. Not just to him, but to all of them. Padme had an excellent rapport with the troops, and they were always happy to see her. And not just because she was beautiful.

Padme treated them like independent men, not property. She was compassionate; and despite having been against the expansion of the clone army, she was exceedingly fond of the men her husband commanded. If they suspected anything of her marriage to their general, they kept it well-hidden. And she could not have designed a better first-in-command for Anakin; Rex was ideal. Indeed, there were times when Padme envied the captain for the fact that he spent more time with Anakin than she did; yet she understood the circumstance was born of necessity.

His single communication with her had been via multiple subspace relays in order to try and prevent anyone who might intercept the communication from identifying its origin. The temptation to contact her now was very nearly overwhelming; but having come this far, there was absolutely no chance that he would risk giving away his location on Bertegad. Not until he knew Rex's fate.

"We'll be charged with AWOL," he replied. "Maybe a court-martial, confinement. I don't really know." He furrowed his brow. "There's not a mechanism for discharging the clones. They were created for one purpose, and discharging them into the general population was never part of the calculation."

Maree was perplexed. "What about when the war is over? Will they not be given the option to leave the service then?"

"I don't know," Anakin replied. "I'm not sure the future of the clone army was taken into account when they were created. The Senate considers them to be property of the Republic. The Senate would have to vote to release them from service. I'm not sure that's ever likely to happen."

Maree nodded slightly. "Yes, I . . . I recall Rex saying something similar when he was here last time." A pause. "There is an option. You could all stay here."

"That's kind of you to offer," Anakin noted. "We can talk about it later. Everything depends on . . . how Rex comes through this." A pause. "Are you going inside?"

Maree hesitated. "Yes, but I want to give the doctors more time before I perform the Skrit-Na again."

"Skrit-Na?" Anakin inquired.

It occurred to Maree that Anakin was not familiar with her ability to discern the condition of the body and its afflictions.

"It is a . . . laying on of the hands," she explained. "It allows me to find illness and injury in the body."

Anakin was intrigued. "Just by touching someone?"

"That is the medium through which I find what ails the body," Maree replied. "But it is somewhat more involved than merely touching someone."

"Is that something your Order specializes in?" Anakin asked.

"No, not really," Maree said. "But it is a talent that is only developed within the Order, in the position of the Doma. Many people have the ability, but it is a hard thing to bring to fullness." She sighed. "Even I have never reached the greatest heights, and this is after many hundreds of years."

"Hundreds?"

Maree gave a humble smile. "Did your Soldiers never tell you? I am over twelve hundred years old."

At this announcement, both Anakin and Donya were speechless.

Maree went on. "One of the . . . aspects of being Doma is living an unnaturally long life. The average lifespan of a Bertegaden is between eighty and ninety years. But because of the Doma's role in guarding the souls, she is given the gift of long life."

"What does that mean, exactly?" Donya asked. "I mean, you must . . . everyone dies eventually."

"I certainly can die," Maree replied. "I'm not immune to accidents. But . . . the last Doma held the position for almost two thousand years before she went to Finirest. And that, she did of her own accord."

"Finirest?" This also from Major Swin.

Maree did not want to delve into the particulars of her religion at the moment, but the question deserved an answer. After all, she herself had brought up the subject of Finirest. "It is the entrance into the Creator's kingdom. A place of waiting, if you will."

"And . . . you're a protector of that realm?" Donya did a good job of hiding her skepticism.

"Only one small part of it," Maree replied.

Anakin, seeing that this was not what Maree wanted to discuss, intervened and brought the talk back around to the only thing on both their minds.

"If you're not ready to go in, do you think they'd let me in?" he asked.

"I will ask au-Linus," she replied. "And . . . I am ready to go inside and see him, but not to do the Skrit-Na. Not yet."

At this, Major Swin knit her brows. "You don't sound very hopeful."

Maree regarded her with an impassive expression. "I am not of a mind to give either false hope or unwarranted despair. We have all seen the truth of the situation." With that, she excused herself and entered the operating room.

Immediately, she was taken at the sight of Rex lying on the operating table, bathed in the light of the cold field. The orange hue hid the pallor of its occupant, somehow giving the impression that things were not as bad as Maree knew they were. Even as the doctors continued their work, there was something almost comforting about the translucence in which they labored.

Maree moved closer.

Seeing her approach, au-Linus turned his attention to her. "Do you wish to perform the Skrit-Na, Doma?"

"No." Her voice was barely a whisper. "Not yet. I only came to see him."

"We're just about finished here." This was from Au-Sinti. "All that will remain after we close up is the blood transfusion. Then, it will be up to the cold field and our prayers."

Maree had to work up the courage to ask her next question. "Have you amended your prognosis? His chances for survival?"

It was au-Linus who answered. "Not yet, Doma. It's still too soon to tell. We may have slowed the deterioration, but everything will ride on the cold field's ability to repair the damage already done. Getting uncontaminated blood into his system is critical. As long as the toxin continues to circulate, it will continue to do damage."

Maree was at a loss for words – an occurrence that did not happen very often.

At last, she found her voice. "The people are praying," she said, feeling that this was a safe statement. "I wanted to come see him."

"Of course," Linus nodded kindly.

"General Skywalker would like to come in and see him, as well."

Linus and Sinti exchanged brief glances.

"It would be better to wait until we close up here and the transfusion is complete," Sinti stated. "We need to minimize the potential for infection."

"I will tell him," Maree agreed. Before leaving, she took a long look at Rex. She did not want to leave him. She had come back from the Taber, back from leading prayer, so she could be with him. As Doma, the concerns regarding infection and contamination did not apply to her due to the protection of the Skrit-Na. And now she wanted nothing more than to touch him – not with the touch of discernment but with the touch of love, the conveyance of connection. She wanted him to know she was there, that he wasn't alone. She wanted him to feel, through her, that his friends were there. They had risked everything for him . . .

"It isn't me who can show him that . . ." She came to a stark realization. She looked to au-Linus. "No . . . Linus, General Skywalker needs to come in. Rex needs him. Rex needs to know he's here."

Linus was hesitant. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"They have a connection," Maree went on unnecessarily. "A bond stronger than—than anything I have with him. And General Skywalker is a Jedi. He can reach out in the Force. If he can touch Rex's mind, he'll be able to give him hope. He can help push away the . . . the desolation I felt when I did the Skrit-Na earlier. Rex has to have a reason to fight. General Skywalker can give him that reason."

Both Linus and Sinti regarded her intently for a moment. They both knew they could not refuse whatever her ultimate decision was; and in this case, they would not try.

Linus nodded. "But he needs to keep at a safe distance."

"Of course." Maree returned to the waiting room. Seeing the look of hope and expectation on Anakin's face, she was glad that she would be able to bring him back inside with her. She nodded for him to follow her.

"We need to stay back a bit," she told him softly. "But around this way, you can see him better."

The room was filled with personnel and equipment, but Anakin saw only the man on the table. The thought that this might be the last time he would see Rex alive tapped at the back of his mind, but he would not allow it to come forward. He and the rest of them had come this far. They'd found Rex, rescued him, and now they were trying to save his life. This was not the time to give into despair.

"He needs you."

The sound of Maree's voice, low and gentle, broke through his singular focus.

"I don't know what you can do in the Force, but . . . he needs to know you're here," Maree persisted. "He's . . . so alone. I felt it earlier, but I didn't want to alarm the others. They're already fearful enough. He isn't fighting. I could . . . I could barely feel him when I did the Skrit-Na. All I felt was anguish and agony. He has nothing to hold onto. Someone needs to reach him, and you have the best chance of that."

"I don't know if I can," Anakin replied. "I'll try, but . . . by the time we found him, I could barely sense him in the Force anymore." A pause. "But . . . on the ship as we were coming here, I . . . the Eagle . . . he showed me what to do. He helped me find a way to connect to Rex."

"Please . . . " Maree reached out and put her hand on his arm. "Try." She paused. "If you like, I can ask the Eagle to assist you."

"Let me try by myself first."

Maree nodded. With that, she turned and left the room.

Suddenly, Anakin felt as if he were standing alone at the edge of a great chasm.

And he had to find a way to cross it. He wished that he had the wings of the Eagle to carry him to the other side. Yet, he was determined to try and find his own way across.

Ajax was finished giving blood, and now he took a seat next to Double Barrel.

"How does it feel to be back here?"

DB shrugged with uncertainty. "It's hard to say. This is a beautiful place. We all loved it here. I'm just . . . it's impossible to enjoy it under the circumstances." He paused. "The Eagle is happy. There are a lot of things he wants to show me, but he knows my thoughts right now are for the captain."

"When we . . . leave again, will he still be with you?" Ajax asked.

"I'm not sure," came the honest reply. "The Doma said he'd be with me forever, so I guess . . . I guess he'll still be with me."

"I'm sorry about the things I said on the ship," Ajax said earnestly. "I didn't mean to imply that you weren't willing to help the captain."

"I know that, and you already apologized," DB told him. "Nothing like that could come ever between us." He turned and regarded Ajax with delving eyes. "Do you think the Eagle has come between us?"

Ajax was surprised at the question. "Just the opposite," he stated. "I think he's brought us closer. He's made us better able to . . . I don't know, be . . . in tune with each other? It's weird, because I don't know how to describe it. I feel like he's almost . . . our Eagle. Whatever he does for you, he does for me."

Double Barrel gave a genuine smile. "That's funny talk for you. You're usually all about weapons and tactics and only concrete things that you can see and touch—"

"I've seen the Eagle. I've heard his voice. I've been able to touch him when he manifests. That's pretty concrete to me," Ajax pointed out. He hesitated for a long moment before speaking again. "Will you . . . leave here when the rest of us do?"

DB narrowed his gaze inquisitively.

Ajax was more precise. "I can't help but wonder if being back here, with the Eagle and this being where he's from . . . maybe he won't want to leave. Maybe you won't either."

"I hadn't thought of it," DB confessed. "I just . . . I only thought of staying here until the captain . . . until he either recovers or we know he's going to recover . . . or . . . "

"Or he dies."

DB nodded. "I never thought of staying here. Or if the Eagle would want to stay." He offered nothing more, and Ajax did not inquire further.

But now that the subject had been broached, there was no way to remove it from either man's mind.

"There is still all this food the Sisters brought over earlier. Are you not hungry, Major Swin?" Maree inquired.

Donya shook her head. "Thank you, no. I don't have much appetite right now. And please, call me Donya."

"You must be exhausted," Maree noted. "But I know there's no point to recommending rest. I wouldn't be able to rest under these circumstances either."

"You must be going through a lot, as well," Donya probed carefully. "Seeing him like this."

Maree drew in a long, slow, preparatory breath. "It is . . . horrifying." A pause. "If I were not seeing it with my own eyes, I would not have been able to envision it. It seems impossible that he could be reduced to such a state."

Donya took careful measure of the woman before her, yet there was very little she could make out of her character, her motivations. Donya had had few dealings with religious types, and Maree was not what she had expected to find. She had imagined a severe, unemotional, and to own the truth, plain-looking woman with a limited ability to connect with regular people. What she had encountered was quite a departure from those expectations.

"You met Rex when they crash-landed here two years ago?" Donya pointed out as a question.

"Yes. We rescued them from the Sandheim—the desert," Maree replied. "They were with us for several weeks before the Republic got here."

"I read about it in the intel logs," Donya put forth. "It was terrible what happened here, what the Copians did." A pause. "You know that the Copians are the ones who did this to Rex?"

"Yes, I am aware."

"But it was Count Dooku who delivered Rex to them for torture," Donya went on. "It was as if Dooku set out with the purpose of taking Rex. He wasn't just captured in the course of battle. He was targeted."

"Rex must have had information the Count wanted to know," Maree surmised.

"Maybe," Donya replied, and her voice contained undisguised skepticism.

"What other reason could there be?" Maree inquired.

Donya shook her head. "I don't know. Maybe he's trying to use Rex to get to someone else."

"Who would he be trying to get to?" Maree's suspicion was rising that the major's line of discussion was not without purpose. Swin was fishing, and Maree was curious what she was trying to hook.

"That's the question," Donya replied. "Who would be most affected by what the Copians have done to him?"

"Clearly his men—"

"Yes, but his men aren't in positions of power that would warrant Count Dooku's interest," Swin replied.

"Well, that leaves General Skywalker," Maree said.

"And you."

"Me?" Now, Maree was certain Major Swin was leading the conversation in an attempt to gather information about her.

"Yes. I assume you are the holy woman Rex told me about," Donya explained. "He mentioned that he had met a woman who was the head of a religious order, and that he loved her."

Maree felt a warmth course through her, but she maintained her countenance. "I am surprised he would speak so openly. He is a very guarded man."

"Well, to be honest, I kind of backed him into admitting it," Donya confessed. "Is it true, then?"

"I am that woman, yes," Maree replied. "As for anything else he may have said to you, that is between you and him. You can choose to believe him or not." She inclined her head to one side. "But it is unlikely his enemies would use him to get to me. I have nothing to offer in the conduct of this war."

Donya knit her brows. "That remains to be seen." She narrowed her eyes in thought. "It's an odd situation. The way the clones were so excited about coming here, I thought you might single-handedly have the power to save his life. But really, what your people have to offer is really nothing more than advanced medical skills."

"There is more to it than that," Maree corrected gently. "But now is not the time to have a theological discussion on the tenets of our religion. We should be focusing our thoughts on Rex and his healing."

Donya nodded. "You're right, of course. I didn't mean to be insensitive. It's just . . . the stress of what's happened is taking a toll on everyone, including me." A pause. "In fact, I think I'd like to spend a little time alone, so I can clear my head and . . . like you said, focus my thoughts where they belong. Is it allowed for me to walk around unaccompanied?"

"Of course," Maree replied. "You saw the gardens between here and the Taber; they are excellent for walking and finding solitude and peace. But feel free to go beyond them, anywhere you like."

"Thank you," Donya smiled. "Please let General Skywalker know that I'm just stepping out for a while."

"I shall."

"We have to tell him."

"I know that, but it's a question of when. General Skywalker is suffering more than any of us. If we say the wrong thing at the wrong time, it won't be good."

Jesse grimaced. "I think we're past worrying about whether or not things are 'good'. What we need to do now is tell General Skywalker about our suspicions. He deserves to know."

"What if we're wrong? What if we end up making him feel as if what happened to Rex is all his fault? And we're wrong?" Top pushed back.

"Do you think we're wrong?"

Top considered. "No, I don't. And I agree we have to tell him, but that doesn't mean he's going to take it well. And at this point, Jesse . . . it's too soon. It's just too soon. We need to wait a little longer, just until . . . until these people can tell us more about Rex's chances. We can't add one burden on top of another."

"Top, you saw the same thing I did on Copia," Jesse pressed. He leaned close. "We both know that was General Skywalker using the Force. He wasn't just causing the ground to shake and the walls to crack. He killed those people. We didn't see one single live Copian on the way back to the ship—"

"I know that," Top shot back, not wanting to recount the events.

"What if he killed all of them? Every Copian on the entire planet?" Jesse went on. "His anger did it—"

"And knowing that, you think it's a good idea to bring this up now? He's beside himself over Rex. We can't pour fuel on the fire, Jesse! Be reasonable."

Jesse sighed deeply. Top made a good point. "But what if . . . what if Dooku is trying to get to the General through Rex? He might not have given up. What if he somehow tracked us here?"

"Then he tracked us here," Top replied. "If he shows up, and General Skywalker suspects that he did this to Rex, then I wouldn't want to be Count Dooku. But we'll worry about that if it happens. Don't invite trouble, Jesse; we already have enough."

No one was guarding Endeavor.

Of course not. In this place, why should anyone worry about deception?

Major Swin walked up the ramp without so much as a stranger's notice. She knew the ship would be empty. All the clones were back at the healing rooms. She had time.

Her last report had been from Copia, while the clones and their general had been out searching for Rex. With only the two pilots on the flight deck, she had retreated to one of Endeavor's private luxury quarters, where she'd been able to send her transmission using her own device and tying into Endeavor's long-range relay-tracking feature. She would try to do the same now.

And oh, what a wealth of information she had to pass on.

It would not be a two-way communication. That was too risky. No, this would be a report. Perhaps the other party would respond. Perhaps not. Again, the risk of detection was not worth taking the chance. She would not even send it as a hologram. A spoken message without image would travel faster . . . and be less traceable . . .

No, not really. If the comm was intercepted, it would certainly be traceable. Right back to her at this very location. The way to avoid that was to avoid being found out.

"Found. On Copia. Near death. Now on Bertegad. Monastica. Healers." And although she had not witnessed it firsthand, she'd heard enough from the others to feel confident adding, "Much destruction on Copia."

As she sent the message, she wondered wryly, "These Force users are all so powerful, but they can't see him for themselves? I have to track him halfway across the damned galaxy? I'd better get what I want."

But even as she scoffed silently at the perceived ineptness of those well-versed in use of the Force, she knew she would never admit that compensation wasn't her only motivation. Or, she would never admit it to those providing the compensation. She acknowledged it only to herself.

She did feel an attraction to Rex. She still felt the sting of his refusal. Had the situation on Tralgaria not taken the turn it did, had Rex not been taken and subjected to all that had followed, she would have continued her pursuit. Now, she found herself roped into a clandestine tasking she did not quite understand, hovering on the periphery of what very well could be a man's final hours of life, and being forced into the company of a religious zealot, who just happened to be the forbidden lover.

"Well, you could have said no to all of it, so you have no one to blame but yourself," she said out loud to the empty room. "Hopefully, in the end, you'll be able to show some gain for it."

She left the ship to return to the healing rooms.

Still so far away. So far that he couldn't reach him.

No matter how Anakin tried, Rex remained out of reach. Even though he lay there before him, he could not make the connection.

And all he could think of was Saleucami. And Umbara. The death of Fives. The death of Hardcase.

And now came flittering in, the death of his own mother. Ahsoka's departure.

Why was it all darkness? Only darkness?

Doma Maree had trusted him to be able to reach Rex, to penetrate the darkness, not to surround himself with it.

Or maybe . . . maybe the only way to get to Rex was through the darkness, through the darkness of what he'd suffered, what they'd both suffered. It could very well be that before penetrating the darkness, the gloom had to be gathered, conjured, fomented.

"You must use the darkness to find the light."

Anakin startled at the intrusion of a voice he knew but could not identify. He'd heard it before – and often, like the soothing, confident voice of a teacher, a mentor, even a father. But why couldn't he place it?

"Use it to your advantage. If you want to find him, if you want to save him, you must surround yourself with that which surrounds him. The darkness. Gather the darkness."

"That doesn't sound right," Anakin whispered.

"He is in darkness. The only way to him is through darkness."

"That's not what the Eagle said," Anakin protested.

"The eagle is an animal soul. You are a human soul. Your captain is a human soul. This is the only way to save him. You are strong enough to pass through the darkness untouched. Trust your feelings. You know my words are truth."

Anakin turned these words over and over again in his head. Were they the truth? Was it possible? It went against everything Anakin had ever learned about using the Force. Going through the darkness, he could understand and even embrace. But gathering it? Surrounding himself with it? He had already felt what that was like. He'd allowed it to happen on Tatooine when he'd slaughtered the Sand People – not out of vengeance, but from uncontrollable rage. And he'd felt it less than a day earlier on Copia. That moment seemed so long ago, and yet, not even a single standard day had passed.

Yet, in his memory, it was already emblazoned. He felt no shame, no guilt, no grief over what he'd done. The filthy swill had gotten what they deserved: his rage. There had not been murderous intent behind that fury. That had arisen on its own, unbidden; and yet when Anakin's eyes fell on the aftermath, he'd felt nothing but satisfaction.

He didn't know how many he'd killed. He didn't care. It could have been the entire planet, and he would not have blinked an eye. It could have been every member of their race throughout the galaxy, and he would have considered it still unfair recompense. The entirety of Copian existence could not equal Rex's worth in Anakn's eyes.

What they had done to him deserved nothing less than total annihilation. And if what had happened on Copia fell short of that . . . Anakin was determined to only increase his power. He had an entire lifetime to fulfill his rage.

It was so tempting, with the soothing, paternal voice coaxing him on, assuring him of the correctness of this path. And since he was unable to reach Rex any other way, why not try it? What else was there left to do?

Anakin closed his eyes and reached out . . . not for Rex, but for the swirling cloud of pain and suffering surround him. The shadow of lingering evils.

The darkness.

Doma Maree rose to her feet as the troopers entered the room. "I'm glad you're all back. I missed your company."

Cody came and stood before her. "It's better to face trials in the company of friends. My brothers are the best." He smiled a heartfelt acknowledgment. "And not just my clone brothers. The brothers here at the Monastica. And the sisters." A pause. "You."

"I share your sentiments," Maree replied.

"Has there been any change?"

Maree sighed. "No."

Sixer appeared beside the commander. "Where is General Skywalker?"

"He's inside," Maree replied, nodding towards the operating room.

"And Major Swin?" This from Jesse.

"She stepped out to get some fresh air," came the reply.

"Did she say where she was going?" This also from Jesse.

"No, but I suggested the gardens between here and the Taber," Maree replied.

Jesse looked to Denal and Dogma. "Go see if you can find her."

As the two troopers left, Maree looked between Jesse and Cody with curiosity. "I had no objection to her going off on her own."

"You may not, Doma," Jesse replied. "But we do."

Cody elaborated. "She wasn't . . . invited on this mission. She snuck on board."

Maree raised an eyebrow. "Oh. General Skywalker said she was an intelligence officer. I just assumed she was part of the group."

"She is an intel officer," Cody confirmed. "And she's part of the group now, but not by choice."

"She must have had a reason to want to go along," Maree posited.

"She claims it's because she cares about Rex," Cody replied. "But she hardly knows him, so that seems likely to be a lie."

Maree gave a slight, indulgent smile. "Is it so unlikely that someone could care about him after a short acquaintance?"

Cody colored for a moment, realizing the implication of his statement and her response; for that was precisely what had happened between Maree and Rex. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to imply . . . that . . . "

"No apologies are necessary, Commander," Maree assured him. "I only said it to point out that it is very possible to care deeply for someone even after a short time. I believe Rex would agree with me."

"I know he would," Cody affirmed.

"If another woman were attracted to him, I could hardly pretend to be surprised," Maree went on. "Though my first interactions with him were . . . shall we say, less than warm and pleasant." She actually beamed at the memory. "In fact, I thought he was the most disagreeable of all of you. I remember how surprised I was to see how his men admired him, when to my eye, he was sour and . . . I called him grumpy."

Cody grinned. "I would have loved to see that."

"Huh, he . . . took it well," Maree recalled. "But when I used the word adore to explain how his men felt about him, he was flat-out horrified. At the time, I thought it was a peculiar reaction; but as I got to know him, I realized that he . . . already knew how they felt. His biggest fear was not living up to the esteem in which they held him. He knew they adored him. He liked it, but it put a great burden on his shoulders."

Cody listened in rapt attention. "You really did get to know him very well in just a few weeks. Is that part of your discernment?"

Maree shook her head. "No. That was part of his character. He likes to think he's keeping everything hidden, but everyone can see right into his heart." She paused and looked past him toward the door to the operating room. "That's what General Skywalker is trying to do right now."

"If anyone can reach him, it will be General Skywalker," Cody asserted.

"I agree."

The gloom was all-encompassing. There was not the slightest glimmer of light or hope. It was like an arc through fog, following the unseen into the unknown. Anakin could not see what lay ahead. He could not even define that through which he was passing.

The vague, nebulous sense of negativity surrounding him had its own power, its own allure, enhancing his anger. But it did more than that. Unlike his reaction on Copia, which had been involuntary, the uncontrolled result of his emotional state, here in this place, the darkness stoked within him a desire for vengeance, a conscious desire to repay evil with his own form of justice.

He was drifting away from his entire reason for entering this realm. He had to force that reason back into the center of his journey, for it would be easy to lose himself in the swirl of discontent around him.

"Rex. I have to reach you. I'm going to push through this. I know you're on the other side of all this blackness. I'm going to find you."

He had no concept of time in this place, but there came a point when hazy figures began to appear on the periphery of his awareness. Indistinct images drifting by, yet he could sense the hostility. These were not specters of good intent. They were sinister, malevolent.

The deeper he ventured, the more images he passed. And if he focused his concentration enough, he could discern that they were not merely static images like statues. They were scenes. Scenes of . . .

Horror and torture beyond anything he could have imagined. They were the echoes of what his captain had suffered.

The rage, which had never fully abated, now began its meteoric rise. It burned hot, blazing red . . .

Red like iron.

He could see the iron rod, one end glowing like flame.

He knew what they were going to do with it. He saw Rex bound in place, his head being held fast . . .

He felt the heat approaching his own face.

He began to tremble. Something was building inside him. Something frightening and yet exhilarating. It went beyond anger and hatred. Beyond vengeance.

Only he could make this right. Only he could bring justice and restore balance. Only he could impose sentence and assure restitution. Others could not be trusted to make proper amends. So, he would take measures into his own hands . . .

"What is this?" Maree stood up suddenly. A coldness, a ripple of something diabolical started her awareness.

"Are you alright?" Cody asked, getting to his feet as well.

"Do you feel that?" Maree asked.

Cody paused long enough to see if he were experiencing any unusual sensations. "No, I don't feel anything," he replied. "What is it?"

Suddenly, across the room, Double Barrel sprang to his feet. "Eagle feels it," he blurted out, sounding harried and nervous. "It's—it's General Skywalker."

Maree headed for the operating room, turning to stop the others from following her before entering. "No, wait here. I'll come get you if I need you."

With that, she disappeared through the doors.

Her immediate impression was reassuring. The doctors were still busily working, apparently unaware and not impacted by what Maree was sensing. Even General Skywalker appeared calm and in command of his senses.

But something was going on inside him, and it had to be interrupted before it went any further.

"General Skywalker." Maree put both hands on his arm.

She received no response.

"General Skywalker, do you hear me? Come, let's get out of this room," she insisted, pressing her weight into him and edging him toward the door.

He did not resist. He hardly seemed to be present in his own body.

Once out in the waiting room, at the insistent prompting of Doma Maree, he slowly came back to himself.

"Are you alright, General?" Cody asked.

"Yeah, I'm . . . okay," Anakin replied. He frowned and exhaled heavily. "I couldn't reach him. There's so much . . . so much darkness around him. I couldn't make it through."

While this answer might satisfy the clone troopers, Maree knew there was more to it than that. "Why don't you and I step out for a moment? Help you clear your head."

Anakin nodded and accompanied her out to the garden. Once outside, Anakin spoke first.

"I don't think you just wanted to go for a stroll with me," he prompted.

"No, I didn't," Maree admitted. "I felt something happen in there. Something dark."

Anakin crossed his arms over his chest, almost as if he were protecting himself against a non-existent coldness.

"I got caught up."

"What do you mean?"

How could he even explain it? It was embarrassing and frightening. Yet, it gave him a feeling of power and invincibility. He hardly knew whether to embrace or reject what he had experienced.

"I was trying to pass through the darkness surrounding Rex, but I . . . I couldn't do it." A pained expression creased his brow. "I didn't want to do it. There were things in that . . . that abyss that called out to me and pulled me to them. I saw some of what they'd done to him, and that's where I stopped." He made a violent slashing motion with his arm. "I stopped! Instead of trying to get to him, I let my fury over what they'd done to him stop me dead in my tracks! All I wanted . . . all I wanted was to feed that fury and I . . . I forgot why I'd even gone there in the first place."

Maree listened in stunned silence. Even after Anakin had finished his confession, Maree did not speak for a long time as she absorbed what he'd said.

At length, she spoke. "These are dangerous things you are saying. I don't know the ways of the Force, but I do know there is a dark side and a light side. What you just described would seem to me to be a manifestation of the dark side, an attraction to the dark side. You said you didn't get through the darkness because you didn't want to. That's dangerous."

Anakin dared not tell her what he had done on Copia. He figured she would find out eventually from one of the clones; but he would not be the one to tell her. This incident alone was distressing enough; he did not want to divulge the atrocity of his inability to control his emotions on Copia.

"It is dangerous," he agreed. "I didn't think it would happen that way."

Maree was contrite. "I shouldn't have asked you to do it. I was completely mistaken. I thought it would be the best way. "

"It should be," Anakin stated. "It's my weakness that prevented it. I should have been able to get through to him." He shook his head. "Now, I'm afraid to try it again in case the same thing happens."

Maree, seeing the anguish in Anakin's countenance, held out her hands.

Anakin regarded her with uncertainty for a moment before putting his hands in hers.

"I would not ask you to do it again," Maree explained. "I think you are an extremely powerful Jedi, and that you are still learning how to use and control your powers with regard to the Force. If attempting to get to Rex involves such temptations to the dark side, then I will not be the one to put you in the line of those temptations."

Anakin took no comfort from her words. To him, his inability to reach Rex was an inexcusable failure. "You would think that my . . . esteem and . . . respect for Rex would be enough to overcome whatever is standing between us."

Maree regarded him with scrutiny. "Esteem and respect. Those are very neutral words. Are you afraid to admit the love and affection you have for him and for all your soldiers?"

"That would be getting too close to having an attachment," Anakin replied. "And Jedi aren't supposed to have attachments."

Maree's expression softened. "It is an attachment. I would venture to say that you have many attachments, General Skywalker. But to try and deny that what you have with Rex is anything other than an attachment would be folly."

"That would make me a failure as a Jedi," Anakin replied. "That's one of the reasons . . . one of the reasons they haven't named me as a master yet."

"I can't speak to the strictures of the Jedi code, but I can say that I doubt very much your men, and especially Rex, would view your attachment to them as a failure. And so you have only to ask yourself, whose opinion matters more? The men you lead, or the leaders of your Order. Only you can decide the answer to that," Maree said.

Anakin absorbed her words. "So, what about you? Do you put the rules of your Order above the needs of the people you serve?"

Maree inclined her head. "If I am doing things correctly, the needs of people are served by the rules of the Order. The Order's rules are designed to provide the greatest care of both the corporal and spiritual needs of the people." She considered for a moment. "That being said, I am not without fault. I have broken the rules of the Order on occasion, including one very grave infraction. That was when I freed the souls during the Copian attack. I am fortunate that the Creator is forgiving and merciful."

"Well, I don't know all your rules, but I have to admit that there are a lot of rules the Jedi have that I don't understand or agree with," Anakin replied. "I do my best, but I don't think it will ever be enough for them. They would never understand why I came after Rex. They never would have done something like that for one of their troopers. They wouldn't even do it for each other."

"It sounds like you have a lot to think about with regard to your life as a Jedi," Maree replied. "But for now, just keep in mind what you mean to Rex. I don't think he cares one bit about where you stand as a Jedi; he reveres you because of the leader you are. He would die for you because of the love you've shown him and his fellow soldiers."

"If he dies now, it won't be for me. It will be for nothing."

"That is the darkness speaking," Maree chastised. "Nothing happens without a purpose. But I am not willing to concede defeat yet. And you shouldn't be, either."