Yes, I know! It's been a long time, dear reader! I'm not even sure I have any readers left! But I am bound and determined to finish this story, even if recent storylines in the SW universe make my own storyline impossible. I hope you enjoy! Cheers, CS

Chapter 149 The Journey through Darkness

"I have crossed the horizon to find you.
I know your name.
They have stolen the heart from inside you.
But this does not define you.
This is not who you are.
You know who you are."

Mark Mancina
Moana Soundtrack

"It's a good thing there are so many donors with identical DNA to choose from. The ocular replacements are growing at a good rate, and they contain none of the contamination that was present in Rex's body." Fels au-Linus nodded with satisfaction at his own statement. "With the grace of the Creator, we will be able to deliver some good news to the Doma."

Fels au-Mikiel agreed. "I have received word that that nerves are almost fully regenerated. The cold field has done its job." A pause. "As for the rest . . . that is not something that can be solved by medicine or science."

"Do you know what the Doma is planning?" Linus inquired. "She has been very . . . demanding, shall we say, since this morning."

"I'm not sure even she knows. But whatever it is, if she is successful, we must be ready to proceed on her orders," Mikiel replied.

Linus gave a slow nod. "We'll be ready."

Anakin entered Rex's room to find Cody was already there, which was no surprise. Cody was very nearly a constant, except for the occasional few hours of sleep that he managed to sneak in between visits.

What did strike Anakin as interesting was that Double Barrell was there, as well.

"I thought I saw Jesse heading this way earlier," Anakin stated.

"He was here, Sir," Cody replied. "Doma Maree sent him away."

"Did she ask you two to be here?" Anakin asked.

"I was already here," Cody replied. "But she sent for DB at the same time she sent for you, General."

Anakin narrowed his eyes. "What do you think this is about?"

"It's about an idea I have."

The three men turned to see Doma Maree standing on the threshold. She walked inside, closing the door behind her. "What I say here must never leave this room." Her gaze went to Anakin. "As General Skywalker well knows, I attempted last night to use the souls to save Rex. Me'Ente Loge stopped me. That is why you see he is still much the same as he was yesterday. If what I am about to ask is successful, Rex must never know what I tried to do last night. He would be very displeased." She looked from one man to the next. "Do you all give your word?"

Hasty affirmatives were given.

"In my . . . indiscretion, Me'Ente Loge showed me that I must take action, that others must take action. We can't wait for Rex to just miraculously recover on his own. Me'Ente Loge gave me no clear answers, but he let me know that Rex does, in fact, survive this. Through which actions, I do not know. I know only that . . . he said if I wanted to save Rex, I had to begin by knowing him." She stopped and visibly swallowed. "I saw . . . things in the Skrit-Na last night that did help me know him a little better." A long pause ensued, following which her gaze grew piercing and insistent. "General Skywalker, Commander Cody, you two are the most important people in his life. You would be the ones to pull him back from where he is now."

Anakin shook his head. "I already tried to reach him, and I couldn't get through. Whatever is surrounding him is too . . . it's too dark and too powerful."

"For you," Maree pointed out. "And surely, for you as well, Commander." She looked to Double Barrell. "But not for the eagle."

As DB stood dumbfounded, Anakin asked bluntly, "What are you talking about?"

"The eagle can take you through that barrier," Maree explained. "He is a perfected soul. Darkness cannot touch him. He can take you to Rex. And he can bring you back out again. You or Commander Cody. Or both."

"But I thought—I thought you weren't allowed to use the souls to heal anyone," Cody spoke up.

"You would not be healing him. The eagle would only be your guide into the soul world." Maree turned to face Anakin squarely. "The world where Force-wielders often meet their match. But you would have the protection of the eagle. Whoever decides to go, if they remain focused on the task, evil will not be able to overcome them."

"Couldn't you send the eagle alone?" Anakin asked.

"Yes, I could," Maree replied. "But the eagle is not the one who can convince him to come back. He must desire to return first. That must fall to one of you."

Both men were silent for several seconds. At last, Anakin asked, "Do you have any suggestions which one of us should go?"

Maree sighed. "It is possible for you both to go, but I would recommend against it. He loves you both: one as a brother, one as a leader. Which role is called for under these circumstances is something I will leave to you two to decide. You have known him far longer than I have. But . . . I think the risk is greater for you, General Skywalker. Even with the eagle's protection, the temptation of the darkness might be difficult for you to resist, as a Jedi."

Without hesitation, Anakin spoke up. "Cody, this is for you to do."

"General, I don't—"

"Listen, I've already tried and it was more than I could do," Anakin replied. "Maybe this isn't a job for Jedi or someone Force-sensitive. Maybe it is a job for a brother."

"Well, I—I . . . " Cody turned an earnest eye to Doma Maree. "I would have no idea what I was doing. I don't even know how to . . . to make contact with the eagle. I've seen him, yes . . . but I'm not—I don't have the same relationship with him that DB does."

"The eagle will take care of that," Maree replied. "He will reach out from Finirest through the bond he already has with DB. You only need to be open to him. He will do the rest."

Cody was clearly flustered. "How do I make myself open to him? And—and how will I know what to say to Rex to bring him back?"

"He is your closest friend; you will find the words," Maree replied. She motioned towards a chair next to the wall. "You will probably be most comfortable if you sit."

Cody drew in a hesitant breath, looked to General Skywalker for a final sign of affirmation, and receiving it, he sat down.

Maree positioned another chair directly across from Cody's. "DB."

Double Barrell sat down, but he was clearly uncertain about what was about to take place. He felt obligated to say as much.

"Doma, I—I don't know how to do what you're asking," he admitted. "The eagle does what he wants. I have little say."

Maree found herself slipping into a genuine smile. Double Barrell's humility and naivete were not only astounding but endearing. Maree herself had realized that she had far underestimated the impact of the direct soul contact between the eagle and DB – and for a good reason: she had never witnessed it before. None of the souls had ever been freed to come into direct contact before the moment of her first indiscretion in the face of Admiral Vrenka's attack. And the small amount of energy she had given Rex outside the Taber in the early days of their acquaintance had been through her as a conduit and miniscule, indeed.

But the eagle had not only had direct contact with Double Barrel; he had restored him to life. The eagle had not simply imbued DB with his attributes; he had become a separate entity within DB's own soul, a part of him that was more companion than characteristic.

The two were separate and yet one-in-the-same.

It was a phenomenon with which Maree was not familiar; yet, she had recognized the immense power the eagle wielded in this particular situation, and she was not hesitant to use it.

"You will know what to do, and the eagle will listen to you," she assured the nervous sniper. "Trust him."

With that, Double Barrel closed his eyes. Across from him, Cody figured he should do the same.

DB took a deep, hesitant breath. "Eagle, take Commander Cody to Captain Rex."

Instantly, Cody felt a sense of movement; and yet, behind his closed eyes, he knew he was not physically moving. When he dared to open his mind's eye, it was as if . . . as if he were seeing through someone else's eyes, as if he were a passenger in someone else's body. Darkness swirled and curled around him, and when he raised his gaze, he saw the eagle in front of him, gliding—no, racing—effortlessly through the nothingness, pushing an envelope of smoky black filaments out before him, like the foil of an aircraft through the atmosphere.

The sensation was like nothing he had ever known before. He had no frame of reference for such an experience. It was not frightening – he was more frightened of what he would find at the end of this part of the journey. It was not calming, for he could still feel the urgency pounding in his chest. It was, however, intriguing in the fact that, from time to time, there appeared to be a presence in the surrounding gloom. Cody felt as if eyes were watching him as he sped along. There were moments when he actually thought he could discern an indistinct figure through the twisting fogs.

As if reading his thoughts, he suddenly heard a voice, "Do not become distracted. I am protecting you, but if you let go, I will have to go get you. That will delay us."

Cody realized the eagle was speaking to him.

"What is all this?" Cody asked.

"A barrier. An obstacle. Do not become distracted."

Cody refocused his attention on the image of the eagle leading him deeper into the darkness. He could feel something—a pressure, a grasp, a clawing—accosting him from all sides and yet unable to make actual contact with him, unable to deter him from the path the eagle was cutting.

"What's happening?" he asked silently.

"The enemy is trying to pull you away, but he cannot succeed unless you let him," the eagle replied. "We are getting close and he is desperate to stop us."

"Who is he?"

"That is not important right now," the eagle chided. "Do not become distracted. We are very close."

And then, quite suddenly, the movement stopped.

Cody found himself standing at the edge of empty space surrounded by blurred boundaries. The place was infused with a reddish light beyond which lay blackness.

"We are here," the eagle announced.

Cody was puzzled. "I don't understand. I don't see anything."

"Walk on."

Cody began walking. He heard a strange shuffling sound behind him and turned to see the eagle hopping along, following him. The grace and power of its movement through the air now gave way to an awkward—almost buffoonish—gait on the ground . . . or whatever it might be called that they were now standing upon. Ground in a nonconventional sense.

"Do not look at me. I am not what you seek," the eagle stated.

Cody redirected his attention forward and continued walking. He had no idea how far he had walked before something started to form from the darkness ahead. As he drew nearer, he recognized it as Rex's room in the house of healing. A chair, the window, a bank of monitors, the bed bathed in the cold field—they were all smoky images that shifted like mist.

But there was one aspect that was as clear and unchanging as the material world Cody had left behind. And that was Rex, lying in the bed exactly as Cody had left him.

This was the reason Cody had made this journey – not just the journey with the eagle, but the entire search. Every decision, every risk had led to this moment; and now everyone was depending on him to do the right thing.

And he had no idea—no idea at all—what to do.

Unlike Rex, who claimed to be a simple man—and was anything but—Cody truly was a simple man with an uncomplicated soul. It was that soul that now led him to stand beside the bed despite his feeling of being unequal to the task placed upon his shoulders. He stood looking down at his friend, remarking silently how, if he hadn't known better, he would have thought Rex was simply sleeping. Here, there were no injuries to see – not even the hollow eye sockets. Not a remnant of a bruise. Nothing to indicate what had happened.

Yet, Cody knew the truth, despite the peaceful appearance.

"Can you hear me, Rex?" It seemed like the most reasonable question under the circumstances.

Reasonable. Well-regulated. Under control. Everything Cody represented to the men under his command. Everything Cody himself had cultivated as part of his persona. Everything General Kenobi could have asked for in a first-in-command.

And utterly meaningless in the moment, eliciting no reaction from the man lying in the bed.

"I've—come a long way to find you," Cody said quietly. "We all have. We're all here." He fell silent again. When he spoke again, his voice was quaking. "Can you hear me, Rex? Show me something—anything." In the absence of a response, Cody unexpectedly felt as if his resolve were collapsing in on him. He put his hands on the edge of the bed and leaned forward in silent tears. He did everything he could to hold back his reaction. Having been the bulwark up to this point, he found himself now hidden from the eyes of all onlookers but one, feeling overwhelmed by the burden of hope and expectation placed upon him. He could have allowed himself the indulgence of his emotions. He would have felt no shame or weakness in their display. Yet, he refused to give in. Not here, not when Rex needed him to be strong.

The eagle looked on in wonder.

The eagle belonged to a class of creatures that rarely felt astonishment. Birds of prey tended to be all about the business of feeding, mating and protecting what was theirs. The soul that had enervated the eagle's body in life no longer had need of feeding or mating. But the protective nature remained and had grown even stronger. Curiously, in death, the eagle had discovered that he was possessed of a compassion of sorts. That was what had driven him to restore life to the dead man in the collapse of the Taber. Now, he could not imagine an existence without their peculiar and sometimes frustrating union. Perhaps his continuous contact with his human had further engender other human qualities.

That would explain the amazement he felt, observing Cody at a loss and weeping in a manner that seemed very out-of-character for the clone commander. Even still, the eagle's practicality would not allow for too prolonged a period of useless activity.

"There is no point in what you are doing right now," he said bluntly but without malice. "I did not bring you here to mourn over him."

Cody could not feel anger at the eagle's words. He could not argue their truth. He took some deep breaths, rubbed his hands over his face, straightened up and turned to face his companion with as even a countenance as he could manage under the circumstances. "I know it's not why you brought me here. You brought me here to save him, to bring him back. So maybe you can show me how to do that, because I don't know how."

"You have not even tried."

"What am I supposed to try? This is a world that I don't know and I don't understand," Cody pushed back.

The eagle was not moved. "You know him. You understand him." A pause. "And he trusts you."

Cody turned once again towards Rex. "I'm not leaving here without you. One way or another, I'm going to find a way to bring you back with me. If our places were switched, you would never leave me behind. Just . . . let me know you're still here. I can't sense things the way General Skywalker does. Are you still here or am I looking at a mirage?"

And still, nothing.

The commander's voice took on a more vehement tone. "Are you planning to leave them all behind? All those troopers who have followed you as their leader? You wouldn't be able to bear the thought of leaving them. When have you ever shied away from a challenge? You survived this. You survived, for fek's sake. How can you give up now? How can you think that we—that I will be able to pick up and just move on? Not after this. Not after everything that's happened. Hraka, we've been in this together since ARC training." Cody forced a crooked grin. "You haven't changed that much. You haven't really let yourself become this. This isn't the Rex I know."

But as the silence continued unabated, Cody feared that the Rex he knew was truly not present. Had this entire trip through the darkness been a ruse by Count Dooku, a ploy meant, in truth, for General Skywalker? A plan to drive the blackness deeper, to foment more hatred in a Jedi who was already disillusioned with his brotherhood?

What would have happened had General Skywalker made this journey with the eagle?

The commander turned sharply and pierced the eagle with a stare to rival the great bird's own eye.

"You would know if Rex is really here," he said, sounding like the clone officer he was. "So tell me: is he? Is he here or is this another one of Dooku's traps?"

But it wasn't the eagle who answered.

"I'm here."

Cody spun around so quickly, he lost his balance for a moment and braced himself against the side of the bed.

He knew the voice. He knew all the shared aspects of that voice – among more than three million men. Yet, he could pinpoint this intonation and inflection in the two words spoken.

"Rex . . . "

And yet, Rex still appeared asleep, unmoving.

"Take me back with you."

Cody was hearing the voice inside his head.

"I can't do it by myself."

Cody spoke over his shoulder. "Do you know if this is a trick?"

The eagle's response was curt. "No trick." He seemed somewhat agitated. "But evil is approaching. It does not want you to take him away."

"But we're safe as long as you're here, aren't we?" Cody asked.

"As long as you do not become distracted, and you tend to do that—"

An unexpected recollection bounced into Cody's mind of Rex the ARC trainee accusing Cody of being indecisive . . .

"—you see, you see! Just now! Distracted by memories." It was the eagle again. "It will be better if we leave here quickly."

Cody's initial reaction was shock at how the eagle had known what he'd been thinking. But the answer to that question would have to wait. "Then let's go." Simple to say, but Cody suddenly realized he had no idea what the next step was. "How—how do we take him out of here? Am I supposed to carry him?"

"We leave the same way we came," the eagle replied, then in anticipation of his companion's inquiry, he explained, "He has already made contact with you in the same way you are in contact with me. You need only hold on to him. I will hold on to you."

Now it was Cody's turn to show some frustration with the eagle's rather cryptic instructions. "I don't know what any of that means," he replied as if he were reprimanding a trooper for telling tall tales. "Can't you just hold on to both of us?"

The eagle actually gave the impression of being taken aback by the suggestion. A moment of consideration followed. "If he will allow me."

And before Cody could draw another breath, he felt himself once again racing through a dimension of endlessness, the beating of powerful wings preceding him.

Yet, this time he was not alone in seeing the eagle's silhouette leading the way through the darkness. He could feel another presence.

In answer to the eagle's question: Rex had allowed it.