People Thief
"Just one, of your best," Rex asks, slumping on the bar counter.
The bartender – another human with sandy-blond hair that looks way too long and messy to be safe wearing and brilliant, fiery blue eyes though he looks far too thin to be health – cocks a disbelieving eyebrow at him. "You sure? That's a little strong for humans."
Rex shrugs. He'll regret it to death later, when he wakes with a migraine and as dead meat, but there's about half a dozen survivors of his company, plus his commander.
His general is dead, killed by Ventress on Teth as he and Ahsoka escaped with the last few of their men. His general was killed under his watch, and he has no idea what that means for him. He's a captain. He's useful. The Republic's not going to decommission or punish him for failure. But he still failed. Fancily.
Dozens of his brothers just died, and here he is. Still alive.
"Why not?" There's a thump as Kix drops himself onto the table beside Rex, leaning on his elbows, face drawn with exhaustion.
"It will turn your liver into liquid jelly and your brain will become a nesting ground for worms," the nat-born answers seriously.
"What? No way," Jesse whines, "Just give us a shot."
He shrugs. "Okay." He turns back, grabbing a couple of glasses from the shelf.
"How about one of your safest for humans for me?" Rex asks.
He shrugs. "Sure."
The bartender arrives back in front of them, pouring out of some poisonous looking bottle. "What do I put the bill to, or are you here on special visit?"
"Ah, Republic," Rex grumbles.
He laughs. "Sure. You guys brothers?"
He doesn't know they're clones. Strange to have that question asked. "Yeah," Rex answers. "Pretty much."
"Kinda eerie. You all have the same face." He looks past them, eyes narrowing in on someone behind them – Rex glances over his shoulder to see Ahsoka slowly approaching, arms wrapped around herself. She looks miserable and small. The battle took a toll on her, too. The nat-born face softens a little, melting with some sort of... sympathy? Is that what it is? "What's with her?"
Rex opts ignoring Jesse and Kix guzzling down the probably poisonous drinks. Tatooine is a place of many species, so Rex doesn't know how great an idea this is. It really might overload them a little. "Ah, she took a bit of a beating in the fight earlier. She'll be okay.
"Does she need anything?"
"Water?" Ahsoka requests, "If you serve that here. Thank you."
Rex actually forgot the thank you part. Exhaustion is nagging at his every limb, and he really wants to sleep for a million. He's not in his right mind.
"Yeah, I'll get you something." He nods to the seats in the corner. "You can sit down, get some rest. I'll be right there." He leans down, digging something out from beneath the counter and grabbing another jug from the counter.
Rex lifts his glass to his lips, sipping a little – yeah, it is strong, and probably shouldn't get too carried away right now. Jesse and Kix are already a little off their rocker. He's ignoring them on pain of death.
The bartender sits next to her, wrapping her lightsaber wound from their brief clash with Dooku and murmuring a few words to her in a language Rex doesn't know. Ahsoka says nothing, though she looks a little quietly uncomfortable.
"What's your name?" Rex asks, leaning against the table, watching him.
"Anakin." He doesn't offer up a last name, and Rex doesn't pressure, though he's curious. He's awfully kind for a nat-born.
"Captain Rex," he answers.
"Captain, huh? Not bad. I used to want my own ship once."
"I'm not actually the captain of a ship," Rex clarifies quickly. "I'm... the captain of those idiots." He points at his brothers. "Thank you for helping Commander Tano. We ran out of supplies on the way to Tatooine."
Anakin straightens, eyes jumping between them. "You work for the Republic?"
"Yeah. You didn't know?" Jesse asks.
Rex smacks him. They're talking to a nat-born. His brother needs to keep his mouth shut.
"Oh." Anakin laughs, running a hand through his hair. "I'm sorry. I didn't know."
"What did you think?" Rex asks curiously, because he can't help asking.
"Usually when people come in here with togrutan kids, it's only for one thing."
The meaning is lost on Rex, but Kix shudders. "Yikes." Did Kix just say 'yikes'? He is definitely drunk. "I didn't know people did that." He goes off on a string of mutterings that Rex ignores.
"I mean, she's dressed like that." Anakin nods to her. "Togrutas are... a common species of slaves." His eyes have darkened with a deep-set anger. This is something important to him, something personal, maybe. Rex heard slavery was a thing on Tatooine.
"I didn't even know slavery was a thing anymore," Jesse says, waiving his glass.
"I heard the Republic bought you from... whatever world it was," he replies, breaking away from them to serve someone else who just walked in. Some Rodian. Rex looks away – their general was Rodian. Rex hardly knew him, but he's still almost unreasonably sad.
The Republic bought them. That means – no, no, no, it doesn't. They're fighting for the Republic because that's what they were made for. It's what he wants to do.
"We're not slaves," Rex argues when Anakin approaches them again. "We fight for the Republic because it's what we believe in."
He shrugs. "Maybe. How many of you are there?"
"I don't know. Millions? We get more brothers every day."
"You look the same. Your armor looks the same. Ever thought about personalizing some of it?"
Rex looks down at his helmet. "Not really." His only armor modifications marks his rank, but that's good enough.
"But if you wanted to, would they let you?"
"Who cares?" Jesse asks, "Let's give it a try and find out."
Anakin laughs. "Okay. You want some paint, or...?"
"Would painting our faces help?" Kix asks.
"Tell you apart? It would wash off, and probably poison you. But I mean, if you really wanted, I could try a tattoo.'
Kix perks. "You can do that?"
"Sure. I do them all the time."
"The Republic's symbol," Jesse requests, waving his hand. "On my... head."
"Like, tiny, or...?"
"On my head," he repeats, motioning wildly.
Rex drops his head into his hands in despair.
"Oookay, you'll have to cut your hair off, though."
His brothers are so dumb.
Especially when Kix very seriously tells him he wants 'a good droid is a dead droid' written on the back of his head.
"What about astromechs?" Anakin asks, "Don't those fly fighters for you? Or protocol droids that do all the translating. Or mouse droids that do all of your cleaning for you? You know, we don't have mouse droids here. I have to do most of the cleaning by hand."
"A good droid is a dead droid," Kix insists.
Anakin shrugs. "Okay."
Rex slowly sneaks away to the seats Ahsoka is lounging on, mostly asleep to hide from his brothers. They are absolutely insane. He will not feel bad when they while about sore heads in the morning. If they make it through morning. He did warn them about drinking that stuff.
He waits until Anakin passes him again to ask the question he's really wondering. "What was that you said to the Commander earlier? I didn't recognize that language."
"It sounds a little like twi'lek," Ahsoka answers, shrugging, "But I don't know."
"It's the language of the slaves on Tatooine," Anakin answers, "Se secret we share only with one another."
Rex's gut plummets with knowing certainty. And he helped return Jabba's son? "You're a slave, too?"
Anakin's jaw clenches. "Yeah."
"I don't understand," Ahsoka protests, "Why can't you just leave?"
"We all have transmitters in us. If we leave, they'll detonate. To get out, we'd have to either remove the chip, which means it would activate, or take the control. Which Jabba has secured in a upper room of the palace. None of us can get to it." He turns away, heading back for the counter.
Rex stares after him, feeling empty. Jesse and Kix – even if they're out of their minds – have taken a close liking to him. As has Rex. He's kind, and he hovers over their commander even more than her general did. It seems far more fitting, with how tiny and skinny she is. They can't leave him there.
"You could probably fit in the vents," he blurts.
Ahsoka's eyes are dark. "Yeah, I guess we'll find out."
**w**
Rex wakes in the moment with a pounding headache, and a grudgingly deep regret for all of last night's choices. He's in his barracks again, and has a split moment before he remembers what transpired, and panics.
They stole a slave from Jabba. He thought they were in trouble before? Because Rex has definitely blown it now.
At least they got Anakin out, he bemoans miserably.
He has no sympathy when he uncovers Jesse and Kix, basically dead.
**w**
Anakin wakes with a start, nestled between a couple of the clones. He wakes with a start, heart racing until he sees the white armor on either side of him.
He's in the clone's barracks with the Republic. He's safe. He's free. They – they freed him. He's finally free, safe to leave Tatooine as far behind as he wants. Relief is not enough to cover how he feels, and he could almost cry.
Ahsoka's small body is curled on a nearby bunk, a blanket flung haphazardly over her, and he smiles at the sight. It's so rare for him to see a togruta, young and untraumatized by the difficulties of slavery.
The door slides open and Rex enters, scanning the room. "How are you adjusting?" he asks sheepishly.
He was probably dunk when he decides to smuggle Anakin out, but it worked, so he just laughs. Jabba knew he was going to escape, anyway – it's unlikely the Republic will be blamed. "I'm fine. It's okay. You're not in trouble, are you?"
"I don't know. I think we deserve a metal." Rex smiles, and Anakin smiles back. "We're going to get post-mission check-up. You wanna come?"
He hesitates, mostly on principle – Anakin doesn't really want them to know what condition he's in. He's never had anyone look him over – or at least not in a long while. Not since his last podrace, which has never been enough to win his freedom. Definitely multiple incorrectly healed bone fractures, some rib fractures, no doubt, and a lot of scarring. Most electric.
"I – I'm okay."
"I really think you should come."
He sighs, caving. "Alright."
Kix is the one looking him over, for as miserable as he seems this morning. "Hey," Anakin goes for, "Your tattoo looks nice."
"It's still bandaged," he gripes, "Yeah, yeah, I know, I asked for it."
Anakin laughs. "You'll be okay."
Kix scans him, and frowns furiously at the datapad screen. "Whoa," he breathes, blinking a few times. "I knew you said you were a slave, but I had no idea you meant this bad."
"What is it?" Rex asks, shifting forwards.
After years of hiding his injuries, having them never matter, Anakin doesn't know how to feel about someone fussing over him. No one's worried about that since Mom. And she's gone.
"A lot of things," Kix answers shakily. "I don't know, I've seen things on the field worse than this, but never with this much scarring. Not even when Del walked through a minefield and nearly fried his legs off."
Ouch. That sounds painful. "It's not that bad," Anakin protests.
"Uh-huh." Kix looks back down. "I don't know how much we can do anything for by this point, but you need to rest for a bit and rehydrate. You're very nutrient deficient, and I'm not sure how much even our ration bars could do at this point."
Anakin blinks. What does he say? "That bad, huh?"
"They starved you?" Rex's voice is high.
"Not really. Only when I misbehaved." He shrugs. "We get enough food to come by. I'm luckier than most of them."
"That is so screwed up," Jesse declares flatly from the background. Anakin glances back at him – he has half of his face bandaged, and he winces in sympathy and amusement at once. He appreciates the clone's horror. "Yeah, we got beat up on Kamino all the time, but that was just part of our training. I can't imagine that happening for like..."
Unease twists in his gut. This is not something he wants to think about. He hasn't had someone fussing over him since Mom. "I haven't survived this long because I need a babysitter," Anakin whines.
"It's okay. Just get some rest," Rex requests.
"That's actually an order," Kix interjects, "Not that we'll hit you if you don't listen. We don't do that here."
He knows. It's still... strange. What would it be like to not constantly fear physical violence? He's lived twenty years like that. His entire life. Many born into slavery are never freed. At least Anakin was granted this, and he is going to use it to help those... gone. If he can.
It's just strange to be living a life like this. To... get to live a life. Anakin has never done that before. He doesn't know what it means. The last hints of family he's ever had died with his Mom, and he hasn't seen Shmi Skywalker in years. Is this what they are to him? Family? It's close enough, anyway – they saved him. They freed him. Anakin has waited for this for years. He could have gotten his chip out if Jabba hadn't taken away his access to machines, knowing his intent.
Except the racer. And he only got that under supervision.
And... they're worried about him.
"Thank you for what you're doing," Anakin tells them honestly, "But you know I have no way to repay you."
"Our payment is our service to the Republic," Rex answers, smiling faintly, "We don't need anything else."
**w**
Rex has duties to attend, so he offers Anakin is rack. With how exhausted he is, he crashes again without hesitation, curling up under the thin blanket – he's freezing, but it will do. There are a few other clones in here, too, but the barracks aren't full. Would it be too far if he grabbed another blanket? He really, really doesn't know.
He doesn't want to push too far, to make them angry, even if he knows the clones themselves never would. But they still have people to answer to, and Anakin doesn't want them to get hurt because of him. He's hurt enough people.
But goodness. He is freezing, shivering beneath the blanket. It was easier when he fell asleep with the clones last night – he can sleep. He's allowed to sleep. No one is going to hit or beat him – he's free.
He can do what he wants.
He needs to remember that.
"You okay?" Jesse – Anakin can tell them apart somehow, even if they look the same, and it has nothing to do with the fact that his face is hopelessly bandaged – sticks his head over the bunk edge. How is he dangling upside-down like that?
"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you," Anakin apologizes. "It's just... really cold in here."
"You're from a desert planet with two suns. Space doesn't have heat. Everythin' we got up here is automated." Jesse slides down the ladder, jumping to the floor. "Move over."
Anakin blinks at him, catching the meaning a moment later. "Oh, you don't have to."
"I mean it. Move." He waves his hand, and Anakin complies, scooting back against the wall. A minute later, Jesse is curled up next to him. He's oddly warm. He's starting to think all the clones are – they metabolize differently, he's gathered. They age twice as fast as normal humans. It's sad, but it's what they are.
It's actually comfortable, he decides, them mutually curled around each other. Anakin doesn't really know that he's quite ready to start calling half the clones his little brothers yet, but it's a near thing. He knows he likes them. Will get there, probably.
**w**
He carefully peels himself away from Jesse some hours later after waking again, and the clone rolls over, still fast asleep. Anakin smiles faintly, but he's way, way too fidgety to just lay in bed all day. He finds himself to the hangar, awed by the sheer number of types of ships here. There are multiple fighter types, gunships, shuttles...
It's a lot.
He finds the area for damaged ships to see if there's a way to help out, and slips right in, working on patching together one of the gunships. This is a type Anakin has never seen before.
He hears footsteps behind him – one of the clones, no doubt. "There was a leak in the fuel cell," he says, brushing his hands off, "I patched it over. Should be good to go."
"Where'd you learn that?" the clone asks, trailing – he's not one Anakin has met before.
"I taught myself. I know a lot about ships. I'm a pilot."
The clone hums thoughtfully. "Can you fly that?"
Anakin gives it a considering thought and shrugs. "Sure. I can fly anything."
"I can run you through a simulator," he offers, "Though we can't take off without authorization of the Admiral. I'm Hawk, by the way."
Anakin takes his extended hand with a small smile. "Anakin Skywalker."
"Yeah, I know. They're all talkin' about you."
He laughs good-naturedly, flushing a little. "I'm sure they are. You don't get nat-borns here often?"
"No. Except the Jedi, or a few other commanding officers. We get an inspector now and then, but only prebattle. And we've never had one that picks up our terms so fast. We don't really know many nat-borns. Most of them aren't... should I say, that kind to us?"
Anakin winces – that's familiar. "Yeah. I've had the same. Ahsoka's nice, though."
"Yeah, she's our commander. Our general's dead."
"I heard. Rex told me."
"Here." Hawk breaks away, opening the gunship and entering the front. "Come on, I'll show you."
They've all accepted him. It's not just the few he met and bonded with on Tatooine, the survivors of Torrent Company. It's... all of them. And Anakin likes it here.
**w**
Thanks to a little help from Ahsoka, Anakin gets appointed an on-board mechanic and advisor. Which is funny, with him having no battle knowledge, but he tells them with a dead serious face that there's a rebellion on Tatooine he was involved in. Rex doesn't doubt. He's the type to lead one.
With the war, and the shortage of Jedi, Rex hears they're not being assigned a new general.
Ahsoka's new master is some red-head Jedi Council Member (Rex only knows of him because he and their former general have some sort of eternal feud or something), and the 501st is being handed off to being a subdivision of the 212th. Under Ahsoka's command.
They still sleep in cuddle piles, and when Ahsoka's there, she'll just as often crawl in between Anakin and Rex.
All in all, he would say the mission to Teth could have gone much worse.
And the rest they say is history =D Main Clone Wars divergence point: the Fives arc. They uncover the whole truth and either the Clone Army walks out or Palpatine mysteriously turns up dead – by a certain mechanic advisor. Most of the Coruscanti Guard walks out (Anakin smuggled them and started a secret freeing slaves trail xD). And the disaster trio live happily ever after. 3
You decide if you want Anidala to happen or not. xD (My personal preference in this case is Kolara, but it's not relevant to Anakin and clone snuggle-piles soooo)
Final Notes: Reviews are always appreciated! ^-^
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