Seventeen
"Are we all clear on the plan?"
They were huddled around the fire as it began to burn low.
"Yes," Rex stated as he stood up and put his boot into the hearth.
It was 2200.
Piia was fast asleep, unaware of all the activity and planning that the three had meticulously put in place.
Over the past forty-eight hours, Ventress had been transferring supplies to her ship. Refuelled and only awaiting the coordinates to be plugged in, it was just a matter of getting on board and quietly taking off before hitting hyper drive once they were clear of Coruscants orbit.
"I don't like that Duros next door", Rex said as he pushed the small hessian curtain aside and peered into the darkness.
"Do you want me to kill him?" Ventress asked, mildly interested in something more substantial to do.
"No, I don't think that will be necessary," Ahsoka laughed. "But if I didn't know better Rex, I'd say you're more nervous that a shinie on his first hop."
Rex ignored the comment and slowly pulled on the hooded coat. Ahsoka had quietly gone about buying clothing for the rag tag group, which was fraught with difficulty considering collectively, they were three of the most highly conspicuous persons on Coruscant.
A clone, a Togrutan and a Darthomir Nightsister.
It didn't bare thinking.
Wrapping a scarf around the lower part of his face, Rex then jostled a small backpack over his shoulders and clipped it in place around his waist.
"Come on, let's just get this over and done with."
His mood had lifted slightly over the course of the week but Ahsoka knew he was just holding it together. Once away from the familiarity of Coruscant and the reality of life outside the army there would be another inevitable bought of depression.
Once the surge of adrenaline with making the decision to stand alone had worn off, the feeling of complete and utter loss would set in.
She had experienced it; Ahsoka knew what Rex was in for.
The only thing that had got Ahsoka through those initial, dark days was her training as a Jedi. The Force had guided her emotions, and when sense prevailed, she sought out Ventress.
It was ironic; that the faith she had learned from the people that had abandoned her was the one thing that had given her strength to be resourceful and strong.
She now knew of the struggle his wife had mentioned. The one she had been too proud to acknowledge the night she walked down those stairs alone. But the words that came from the Representative, along with the little leather pouch had rung true and led her back to the Jedi Library to find out more.
Ahsoka was compelled to research Gemma's mother, the more she read, the more she realised that there had been others disillusioned with the Jedi way.
If it hadn't been for her incessant curiosity, she would not have been there that night to save him.
It was defiantly a sign, one she had to act on and follow through.
Years of visions of her and Rex were confusing, and whilst she thought they were nothing more than romantic dreaming's of a scorned lover, she knew now that Yoda had been right all along.
"Trust in the Force you must, only then, the truth you'll see," he had said to her one day during meditation, when her thoughts had wandered and broken her concentration.
Frustrated she had gone to leave when the High Master had told her to sit and work through the premonition, and he had been right.
But how things had changed.
Ahsoka would have to draw upon her Faith like never before to get Rex through the harsh reality as a single parent.
And then there was Asajj. Ventress had proved herself to be most reliable in helping prove her innocence during her messy and somewhat lengthy, trial by the High Jedi Council. She enjoyed the acolyte's acerbic wit and together they had forged a true friendship. It was always the little Togrutan's most endearing quality; giving everyone the benefit of a second chance.
And now here was hers.
"If Master could see me now," she thought as she looked at the group assembled.
"Ventress, you leave first then Rex and I will follow at three minute intervals. Let me know if there is any Empire activity in the vicinity en route."
Ventress smiled, she liked the idea of sticking it up to the Empire in leaving undetected, but the thought of also knocking off a few more clones appealed to her warped personality.
"Copy-that," she drawled, dripping with sarcasm as she shot a look over to the former military captain.
Ahsoka knew Rex was anxious to get off world. The concern for Piia's welfare bore down on his shoulders and he knew this was the final thing he had to do before he could allow himself to fully absorb his future.
One without his wife.
Ahsoka would constantly have to remind herself that he was dealing with a loss, and having lost him once before, she knew his heartbreak was ten fold compared to what she had experienced.
"Ventress don't - " Ahsoka knew that the former dark acolyte enjoyed baiting Rex.
"Oh al-right,' she replied as she tucked her twin sabres under her dress, "I'll let you know if I find a sense of humour along the way."
She moved out into the night and they set their chrono's and waited for their mark, when the pesky neighbour Rex had been concerned about, popped his head into the hut.
"Need Bantha milk missus," he said holding a cup and scanning the room. Rex had well and truly had enough and pushed him hard up against the wall.
"Rex!" Ahsoka unintentionally let out as the alien's eyes popped in recognition.
"I know you! You on the holonet?" He managed to get out before she heard the sickening crack of his neck.
Ahsoka stood in silence as the humanoids Force signature abruptly left, and looked up at her captain with her mouth open in disbelief.
"He knew who I was," he stated matter of fact, "collateral damage," and with that Rex let him slip gently to the floor.
She shouldn't have been surprised.
She had trusted Rex with her life time and again and had seen him kill with his bare hands on more than one occasion, but always for a cause.
This seemed wrong, but he was a wanted man and he had a responsibility to get away that night, before they were discovered.
"If a dumb Duros knew who I was, it would only be a matter of time before others did," he looked up at Ahsoka, feeling as though he had to justify his actions.
Ahsoka's chrono broke the uncomfortable silence.
They had just had their first variation.
"OK, you're up," she said as Rex moved over to pick up his daughter.
"See you at the RV commander."
It appeared you could take the man out of the military, but not the military out of the man.
.
"Echo, could you take Marlo's push chair with you, I think Stoyan is getting a little tired."
Echo looked up from his data pad and smiled. Seeing Stoyan outside walking was a vast improvement. The former Jedi had challenged himself daily and it appeared that the birth of their daughter was just what was needed to spur him forward.
Marlo.
She had been born on the kitchen floor, coming too quickly for Echo to get Freya to the delivery suite of the local hospital. Like a true ARC, Echo had stepped up and at precisely 0853 little Marlo entered the world.
There was no choice about the name.
Freya knew all about the doctor who had saved Echo's life, keeping him hidden and repairing his damaged legs.
It went both ways; the former ARC had reciprocated, getting her off the Citadel and even though she had succumbed to her injuries sustained during their crash landing on Scillal, she died a free woman.
Her debt had been repaid and now her memory had been honoured.
"Here you go buir," he said as he pushed the chair up to Stoyan, "I'll take her from here."
Stoyan handed over the small bundle of pink and watched as Echo placed her gently into the bassinette and took in a deep breath.
"Tings changing. You need to be care-ful." Stoyan still had problems with the pronunciation of certain words and coupled with the limp, they were the only reminder of the stroke.
For the first time in a long time he had allowed the Force to help; returned to the curse that had seen him devoid of a family up until now.
Meeting Echo had certainly saved Stoyan's life and he was the most content, even if mildly disabled, he had ever been.
However with the return to his religion came the increased Force sensing ability. Stoyan was well aware that a dark cloud had fallen over the once powerful Jedi Order and that Echo especially, as a former special operations officer, needed to be more alert than ever.
"Relax buir, if I'm not worried, neither should you be."
They would be words that would come back to haunt him.
.
"Good morning gentlemen. Please come in." The head of the Scillal shipyards quickly moved some manuals aside and offered the two Empire officers a seat. He had been excited ever since the communiqué from Coruscant had come through.
With their crisp grey uniforms, they cut a figure of military precision, their caps neatly tucked under their left arms.
The newly formed Empire was requiring another four destroyers to add to their existing fleet of older model star ships.
During the Clone Wars he knew they had been making crafts for both the Republic and the Confederacy of Independent Systems. He didn't care which side was doing the ordering, as long as the credits kept rolling in, and with the advent of his new managerial team, they had succeeded in meeting the requirements of which ever government was doing the buying.
"Thank you for making yourself available on such short notice. We understand that you have looked through the proposal and feel confident that you can meet the orders expectations?"
"Yes, indeed I do. I am sorry to say that the person in charge of productivity is apparently running a little late. Rather unlike him I'm afraid," he said looking at his chrono, "he's usually very reliable. Not to worry, we can continue until he arrives."
As they went through the logistics of production and anticipated delivery time, Echo hid behind a hyperdrive infold and continued to watch in horror.
He had been busy greeting fellow workers when his attention was drawn to the men standing behind the transparent glass.
"Heads up Echo, there's our new contract walking into the bosses office."
He knew instantly who they were and he felt like he was going to lose his breakfast. The Empire had appointed non-clones into positions of military power, putting the once efficient, manufactured soldiers lower down the pecking order.
"Fek!"
A new contract meant millions of credits, job security and a hefty bonus if they finished in time.
Echo knew they could do it easily, even orchestrating a production drama as a way to screw a greater incentive from the Empire if they finished on time.
But as he watched the two talking, he knew Stoyan had been right.
He had to be careful, and with a face like a million others, a decision now had to be made.
Echo slunk back out of the factory and jumped on his speeder, flicking it into gear quickly and tore off home.
Maybe it was time to move on, but after this one job, they would finally be financially free to live anywhere in the Universe without the need to ever work again.
A hobby farm, that's what he wanted. It would be great for the kids and a simple life after everything they had been through was just what he craved.
All he needed to do was finish this last job. He knew once the order was placed it would be last time they would see anyone until it was completed.
One more and then he would quit.
He was better than the two men sitting in that office, all scrawny and pale in their fancy uniforms.
His training had been better than any they would have endured.
He could do this.
He was an ARC, after all.
.
