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“You know, Rex, when I signed up for a ‘supply run,’ I didn’t envision us running for our lives,” Ahsoka said, swinging the shuttle’s rear gun around sharply to follow the nearest Imperial fighter. She received a half-flash of a vision, a pulse from the Force; its guidance was so instinctive now that she followed the fighter’s leftward jink and fired before she consciously registered the message. It exploded into a hail of fire, a sick pull in her gut announcing the pilot’s sudden, abrupt death. Ahsoka didn’t have time to mourn; there were three more where that fighter came from, pressing into the shuttle’s trail of exhaust as Rex gunned it toward the atmosphere.
“Had hoped my contact would redeem himself with this info,” Rex said, his voice strained. “Looks like his habit of exaggerating wasn’t a one-time lapse.”
“We close?” Ahsoka asked, tone taunt. She snapped off a few shots, forcing the fighters to retreat a little.
“Another thirty seconds.”
She didn’t bother telling him they might not have that long; the tension she could feel buzzing through his Force signature told him he knew that as well as she did. Ahsoka slipped a little deeper into the flow of the Force, searching for her opening.
She only shot one more ship down - but it was enough. The blue of Balata’s atmosphere faded down into deeper and deeper shades until it became the pitch black of space. She felt Rex’s emotions spike, and a second later, the stars stretched and transformed into the blue swirl of hyperspace.
Ahsoka relaxed back into her seat, intentionally forcing herself to breathe deep, hold it, and then let the air flow back out of her again. The sting of taking another life never left her, no matter how many times she had to do it.
After a few minutes, she got up and climbed down the gun turret’s ladder. Aft, thick double doors led into the freighter’s large hold, wherein lay the mysterious supplies that they’d risked Imperial wrath to swipe from the cargo port. Forward, open doors led onto the small bridge, where Rex was slumped in the pilot’s seat.
He looked tired, Ahsoka thought, a spike of worry lancing its way through her gut. More tired than the last time she’d seen him, and he definitely hadn’t been running at one hundred per cent even then. She stepped into the bridge, intending to take the co-pilot’s seat, but she found herself migrating to stand behind him without really meaning to, her hands coming to rest on his shoulders. She didn’t need to ask aloud if he was alright; one squeeze of his shoulders was enough to communicate her worry.
“It’s been a long few months,” he said, voice soft over the hum of the instruments. Something he wouldn’t have admitted in front of the other clones; she saw how he stood tall for them, making himself into the unshakable pillar on which they could all lean.
“Then maybe it’s time to rest. Properly,” she said. “If only for a while.”
Rather than the reluctance she’d expected, she felt a small wave of satisfaction run through him. “Hopefully, that’s exactly what I’ll be doing at our next stop.”
“Oh? Are you finally going to tell me what these supplies are actually for?”
He smiled, and the warm feeling that elicited in her chest made her forgive him when he said, “That’ll be a surprise for when we get there.”
“Mysterious, Captain,” she said, squeezing his shoulders one more time before she went to take her seat. Now the adrenaline was ebbing out of her system, the usual after-battle aches and pains were beginning to make themselves uncomfortably known. “How long will that be, exactly?”
“A few hours yet. I didn’t wanna steal from anywhere too close to where we’re dropping these off,” Rex said, jerking his finger back at the cargo hold. “Plenty of time to get some rest, if that’s what you’re after.”
“That,” Ahsoka said, “sounds heavenly.”
*
Ahsoka hadn’t had a chance to rest properly for... well, at least a week by her standards, though normal people probably would’ve said she hadn’t taken a proper rest for several months. There was only so much she could do with the spartan conditions of the freighter’s galley crash-couch and a ratty old blanket, but being able to sleep for a solid, uninterrupted few hours without having to worry about watching her back? That was a damn good deal, at least when compared to her living situation when she took on solo missions. She woke feeling a little groggy, but she stirred together some horrendous imitation of caf in the hole in the wall that passed for the ship’s galley.
Rex was still in the pilot’s chair when she stepped onto the bridge. “You didn’t get any sleep?” Ahsoka asked.
“You didn’t make me a cup of caf?” Rex shot back, though his tone was lighthearted.
“People who didn’t sleep don’t get caf.”
“Lucky for me, I have R-15 to watch the controls,” he said, nodding to the small astromech that was sitting quietly at the secondary controls. That meant he’d slept in the pilot’s chair, then; there was nowhere else. Ahsoka sighed internally and let it go. Sleep was sleep, and in their situation they had to make do.
“I thought you were still between droids,” Ahsoka said, coming to sit down in the co-pilot’s chair.
“He comes with the ship - and goes with it, unfortunately.” Rex gave her a rueful smile. “After Teth I’m also between ships, at least for the moment.”
“And between bases,” Ahsoka said, worry pulling tight in her chest. Being ‘between’ everything needed to make a successful go of it against the Empire was a nice way of saying Rex’s burgeoning clone rebellion had gotten knocked off its feet at the monastery on Teth.
“Not quite.” The Force sent a quiet, smooth tingle down Ahsoka’s spine, warning her a half-second before the realspace reversion alarm began to ring. Rex quieted it, checked the instruments, and pulled back on the lever, dropping them out of hyperspace and back into a deep black field of stars. Through the forward viewport, the gleam of a bright white star illuminated a planet absolutely covered by towering decks of cloud. “I guess it’s time to reveal my surprise.”
“I’m waiting with bated breath,” she said. Wordlessly she handed him the cup of caf, and he took a sip before handing it back. A few quick gulps while they were on approach would have to be enough; there was no time for making more now.
There was no challenge from any spaceport authority; the comm stayed silent as the freighter dived down into the mass of brooding clouds below. The ride was bumpy, as Ahsoka had known it would be. She watched the instruments carefully, stepping in wherever Rex didn’t have the time or reach to react. The turbulence as they descended through the atmosphere meant they both had to strap in, and the wind made landing a dicey proposition. They had to hover, the old ship’s repulsors screaming with effort, as they slowly and carefully lowered the ship into its appointed position on the scrap of rough ground, high on a tall thin pillar of rock, that passed for a landing area. The wave of relief she felt from Rex as their landing gear finally got a good grip on solid ground reflected the release of tension throughout her whole body as she relaxed back into her seat.
“We’re really going to have to run that gauntlet every time we come back to base?” Ahsoka asked.
“It’s why no one wants to settle here,” Rex said, unbuckling from his seat. “Which makes it the perfect hiding place for us.”
“And where is here?” Ahsoka asked, following suit.
“There’s a bit of debate about the name,” Rex said, his fingers moving with quick confidence over the ship’s controls as he powered the freighter down. “Officially it’s listed as GI-X28. The three waves of colonists gave it three different names, though.”
“Is there anybody left to give it a name now?”
“Not that I’ve encountered.” Rex smiled as he stood from his seat. “I guess that’s up to us.”
The ramp opened into the howl of the wind and a thunderous burst of rain. Rex and Ahsoka both stood at the top of the ramp for a long moment, feeling the cold wind whip up into the considerably warmer air of the ship, both reluctant to take that first step outside. “I guess it’ll remind everyone of home,” Rex said, staring glumly out to where the rain was driving in sheets across the grey, night-shrouded landscape. “Don’t know whether that’s a good thing.”
“It is if it hides you from the Empire,” Ahsoka pointed out. “I’m guessing the weather is part of why there are no more colonists here?”
“That and the flash-flooding,” Rex said. “We should be safe here on the high ground, though.” He leant out of the ship, frowning up into the rain. “The first thing I wanna do is set up some kind of protective cover for the ships. Can’t have anything being struck by lightning.”
“Are we going to spend all night in the ship?” Ahsoka asked, refocusing his mind on the here and now.
“We could,” he said, staring dubiously at the torrent of rain slashing down mere inches from their noses. Ahsoka only had to leave a significant, speaking pause before Rex drew in a deep breath, one that made him stand taller, his shoulders and stance wider. It was a familiar move; she’d seen him do the same any number of times, when he was steeling himself to do something he really didn’t want to, like hurl himself into the thick of a battle or tell Fives that no, it would not be possible to requisition an ice cream machine for the ship’s mess hall. Then he moved, darting out and almost immediately becoming lost in the thundering rain. Ahsoka had to move quickly to follow, tracking him purely through the Force for a few seconds, reaching for his signature instinctively, before she caught sight of his white armour and flapping cloak again, disappearing into a tall building with thick stone walls that towered up into the darkness somewhere above her head.
Inside, it was dark as the grave, with only a faint, deep blue glow from the sky outside coming in through a few high, barely seen windows. Ahsoka paused on the threshold, following the glow of Rex’s Force signature as he went further inside, cursing so quietly under his breath that she couldn’t make out the words. A few seconds later, bulbs flickered on one by one, bathing the space in the bright, harsh glow of construction lighting. Rex had strung a line of them up around the space, which was otherwise without any source of light. The room was bare as an ascetic’s chamber back at the Temple, a square slab of a room with small windows. A little pile of outdoor gear in the corner was the only sign the space was inhabited at all.
“It’s a little better upstairs,” Rex said apologetically.
“What was this place?” Ahsoka asked, taking in the bare walls and flagstone floor. Traces of some kind of whitewash remained on the walls, but time and the damp brought on by the inclement weather had conspired to cause the paint to crumble away over time.
“Some kind of outpost.” Rex had taken off his cloak and hung it by the door, revealing the blue and white armour she was so familiar with. It was far more scuffed and dented than the last time she’d seen it, though that had been less than a year ago. “There was a town down by the river.”
“They didn’t settle on the high ground?” Ahsoka asked, as she made her way toward the staircase.
“It was a bit of a damned if they did, damned if they didn’t situation,” Rex said. “There’s no way to grow crops on the high ground - nothing but rock up here. But down by the river, everything gets washed away in the yearly floods. Turned what should have been a golden colonisation opportunity into a black hole for investment credits.” They’d ascended into the next room as they spoke. The layout wasn’t much different - the same square, simple room - but here Rex had set up a makeshift field kitchen with camping equipment, as well as a few chairs and a small camp table. “For when the boys get here,” he said, nodding to it.
“And when’s that?”
“Echo’ll be hot on my heels, no doubt. Once he finishes his own supply run.” Rex sighed, and as he went over to the stove, Ahsoka saw more clearly than ever how heavy was the weight bearing down on his shoulders. She didn’t need to ask to know he was still thinking about all the people he lost on Teth.
“Where are all the supplies going?”
“In the back here,” Rex said, pointing toward the empty void at the back of the room. “If the rain lets up at any point tomorrow, we’ll have to rush out and get them.”
Ahsoka smiled to herself at the mental image of them rushing to and fro between the tower and the ship, dashing across the puddle-strewn courtyard, glancing every few seconds at the grey sky above to check for the inevitable renewal of the onslaught that was battering the watchtower even now. “At least we can set that aside for tonight,” she said, setting herself down in one of the camping chairs.
“True,” Rex said, sitting down beside the stove.
Ahsoka sat back in her seat, allowing herself to relax into it. Watching Rex through half-lidded eyes, she consciously worked through each of her major muscle groups, naming them one by one in her mind, willing each to relax as she called its name. It was a calming ritual she learnt from Master Kenobi years ago. With it, she could allow the stress of the last few hours to melt away, to scatter like dust into the Force. Here and now there was only her and Rex, in a place far from Imperial scrutiny, where they could, if only for a few days, let their guard down.
Rex didn’t speak, as if he knew what she was doing and didn’t want to interrupt her. Hell, he knew her so well, so thoroughly, that that might be true. She relished the silence, after the shouting and gunfire, after the bustle and pure noise that had been her constant companion these past few days. Balata was a great place to sneak supplies away under the noses of a lax Imperial presence, but quiet it was not.
The two of them talked sparingly over dinner - mostly about what Rex planned to do with the base, the improvements he was thinking of making, and what else he needed to smuggle away from the Empire to make that happen. Ahsoka went through the list of planets she kept in her head, reminding herself which ones were more or less loyal to the Empire, or where she’d seen signs of a lax security presence they could exploit. The Empire hadn’t sunk its claws into every system yet - far from it, at least out here in the Outer Rim - but they had been strategic. Systems and planets that traded in or produced key materials had been their primary targets, and they hadn’t been shy about throwing their weight around.
“It’ll be harder to set everything up, this time,” Rex said when their plates were clean. Again, Ahsoka could hear the grief of the massacre on Teth colouring his voice. She was going to have to dig into that, and soon.
But maybe not right away. The weight on his soul was so heavy, she could almost see it dragging his shoulders down like weights. She could certainly feel a churning restlessness in his Force signature, something she had felt only on very rare occasions before. The last time - the worst it had ever been - was during Order 66. It wasn’t nearly that bad now, but it was like a lingering wound in the Force, the tail end of a period of stress so acute even his body and soul, trained from birth for battle, didn’t know how to deal with it.
“You look run off your feet,” she said, taking the dishes back to the sink before he could stand. “You should get to bed.”
She could feel him make a move to protest, then stop, consider it, and close his mouth again, all without looking at him. All while barely even touching the Force, actually. The tiny sounds of his movement, the distinct changes in position and breath; she was so attuned to them that they were like a second language, one only she could interpret. “I should,” he admitted, ever the realist. “We both should.”
One glance at the sink piled with dirty dishes was enough to bring the entire weight of their hectic day clanging down on Ahsoka’s shoulders. “You’re right,” she said, because she was a realist, too - and because here, in this haven of safety, perhaps they could afford a little indulgence.
There were two rooms set up, but Ahsoka didn’t take the second room. Even if it wasn’t clearly meant for Echo, she wouldn’t. Instead, she followed Rex into his room, pulling off her clothes and leaving them in a haphazard pile worthy of her teenaged self. Rex, ever the soldier, pulled his armour off far more carefully, setting it into the lined box that had taken the place of the stand he used to use back on the Relentless. Ahsoka was almost asleep by the time he climbed into the bed with her.
Tomorrow there would be time for dish-washing, unloading cargo, and digging carefully around the edges of the obvious wounds Rex was carrying. Tomorrow, she promised herself, before slipping into a deep, dreamless sleep.
*
The next day dawned without Ahsoka being awake to see it, which was a rarity these days. Both of them were exhausted enough to sleep until long after their internal clocks would normally have had them rise; sunlight was peeking in around the thick blinds by the time Ahsoka finally opened her eyes for real.
Sun, she thought, and turned over to see if Rex was already awake. A fond smile turned up the corners of her mouth as she looked at him; his face was so peaceful like this, lost in a dream. The lines that had started to show around his mouth and eyes were smoothed out by sleep, leaving him looking more like the man she first met, what felt like a lifetime ago now.
Reluctantly, she leant over and stroked gentle fingers across his forehead, slowly encouraging him back to wakefulness. “It’s sunny,” she murmured, when his eyelids started to flicker.
“What?”
“It’s sunny. We can move the supplies.”
He snorted out a sleepy laugh. “Joy of joys.”
Ahsoka would like to say they took their time getting up, but neither of them have ever been very good at that. Besides, as Rex pointed out as he threw on his jacket, there was no telling how long the sun would last here. Eschewing breakfast for now, the two of them walked out into the watery sunlight filling Rex’s makeshift landing field and threw open the freighter’s cargo doors.
Filling the base with the supplies they stole took up much of the morning. They stopped for caf and a protein bar halfway through, taking a moment to lounge on one of the tower’s broken walls, enjoying the mix of sun and breeze coming in off the distant mountains. Down in the valley, the trees in the thick jungle moved like undulating waves, and a chorus of bird and animal life sang away among the trees. Ahsoka could feel it all through the Force, pulsing and vibrant around her, ever-present, living, breathing. “I can see why people made so many attempts to settle here, even after all the failures,” Ahsoka said. At Rex’s nod, she added, “I hope it provides a modicum of peace for our friends.”
“Tough thing to find, for us,” Rex muttered. She felt another wave of emotion from him, something teetering on the edge of quiet despair.
Immediately, her hand was in his, squeezing tight. “But not impossible.”
The corner of his lip quirked up, and he sounded like he was thinking of someone specific when he said, “No, not impossible.”
When the cargo unloading was finally done, the cloud-studded blue sky was being overtaken by a bank of approaching grey from the north. Ahsoka sat and watched that, too, overawed by the majesty of the sky above. Anakin wasn’t one for sitting around in nature, for listening to it; Obi-Wan had taught her some scattered things, tips and techniques he said had come down to him from his own master, Qui-Gon Jinn. But many of the things she knew, Ahsoka had to work out for herself - and maybe that was all part of the Jedi Way, in the end. A legacy from your masters, and the satisfaction of forging your own path.
She went back inside when the first raindrops started to patter down onto the stone. As much as it might have been nice to sit outside and let herself be soaked, to get in tune with the natural world in that way, she didn’t have many spare clothes, and the heater in their new base seemed like it might crap out on them at any moment. So, she went back inside, and found Rex checking off the last of the boxes they’d brought in against the inventory he’d made. “I could’ve helped you with that,” she said.
“You need some rest, too,” he said. “Recharge those Jedi batteries.”
“The Force isn’t like a blaster pack, Rex.”
“Eh,” he said, a noise that said he thought the difference was too minimal to matter. She rolled her eyes.
There wasn’t much else to do on this planet (currently still unnamed) but sit back and kick up their heels. The rain soon began pounding down again, their brief sunny respite a distant memory. The two of them sat by the one window where Rex had installed shutters, looking out at the endless downpour.
“Do you know what you’re doing next?” Ahsoka murmured.
Rex sighed heavily. “Haven’t even had time to think about it. Been putting all my energy into setting up this place.”
“You don’t have to make that sound like a failure,” she said. “Making a safe haven is just as important as stealing supplies or gathering intel.”
“I know. I’ve just felt a little...” Rex trailed off, his gaze going distant as he stared out at the falling rain. Ahsoka waited, giving him space to speak his mind. “Teth was a big step back for us,” Rex finally admitted. He dropped his head into his hands, thumbs kneading either side of his forehead, and Ahsoka knew he was thinking about everyone he lost there; she could feel his grief like a rising tide. “Having to rebuild everything again... it feels like starting from scratch. Like nothing we did before actually mattered.”
“I understand that,” Ahsoka said slowly. “But everything you did before wasn’t bound up in the base on Teth. There were countless people you helped, or actions you took against the Empire, that weren’t lost with the base. And more than that...” Ahsoka reached out, placed her hand on his shoulder. “Even those who lost their lives... I’m sure that, if they could, they’d say it was more meaningful there, fighting for something they believed in, than throwing their lives away for an Empire who wouldn’t have even retrieved their bodies.”
“But do we get to decide that for them? That it was more meaningful?”
Ahsoka shook her head. “We don’t decide, Rex. They already did, when they joined you. They knew the stakes. They decided it meant more to give their lives up for that cause.”
A sob hitched Rex’s shoulders up and down. He’d always cried quietly - almost efficiently, like he did everything else in his life. Sometimes Ahsoka wished he would let himself loose a little more - scream and shout and sob loudly, letting it all out like pus from a blister - but this was far better than nothing. She shifted to kneel down next to him and pulled him close, rubbing a soothing circle on his shoulders with her hands. With these tears, this honest admission of feeling, she had drawn a measure of poison from his wound; with that, she hoped against hope that he would begin to heal. It wasn’t just their burgeoning resistance who needed him; the thought of waking up to a world without him in it was not something she wanted to contemplate.
Later, when Rex was all talked and cried out, they set up a game of dejarik and played in a comfortable, focused silence. The rain hammered down above them, forgotten in the intensity of the game. Ahsoka had lost the last two rounds, and she was determined not to give Rex a hat trick.
For just these quiet, stolen moments, they were alone and at peace - and that was all they needed to be.