Chapter Text
“I rip myself apart at the seams,
I find one weak spot and start unraveling,
Hoping I can find a better me,
A fresh new start buried under me.”
Kamino wasn't a warm place. Where most planets had sunshine, it had rain.
Kamino wasn’t a comfortable place. Where most children had loving parents to raise them, it had hardened bounty hunters to train its growing clone army. Where other beings enjoyed frivolous pleasures like books, holovids, and all sorts of games, those growing up on Kamino knew only the necessities and hadn't any real grasp on the meaning of frivolous.
Kamino was not a safe place. Whispers in the night and padded footsteps in the halls after curfew were met with swift punishment. Lying was met with punishment. Failure of any kind was met with punishment.
Kamino was not a warm place, by any definition of the word, but it was the only place Rex had ever known—the only place he had ever called home.
That is, until he got assigned to the 501st. Away from the vast oceans and the sterile white walls of his home world, Rex had watched his vode discover a new spin on the word home.
Led by the freshly Knighted Anakin Skywalker, the brothers who made up the 501st settled into a world that was so vastly different from anything they had ever known. Some found that home meant being wherever their closest vode were, while others had taken to calling the 501st flagship, the Resolute, home.
For Rex, home meant wherever Cody, Wolffe, Bly, and Fox were, which was Coruscant more often than not.
For Rex, home was also something that could disappear at any moment. One mistake, one misstep, one wrong move and everything he knew could be ripped away from him in a flash. And all because of a defect most people assumed was just his choice of style.
Inhale, exhale…
Resisting the urge to run a hand over his buzzed head, Rex took a deep breath and stepped into the briefing room. He had only been on a handful of missions as Skywalker's captain, but he was already catching onto the slightly more maverick ways of the young Jedi General.
"Rex!" Skywalker brightened. "Right on time."
The general's Master—or ex-Master…? Rex still wasn't really sure how all that worked—was joining them via hologram. Rex nodded at both of them, coming to stand at attention near the holomap.
"General Skywalker, General Kenobi."
And maybe he was standing a little too stiffly, and maybe his tone was a little too formal, but he had learned long ago that going the extra mile was the only way to ensure his advancement.
"At ease," Skywalker said with a soft smile before turning back to the map. "All right, so I was just telling Obi-Wan that we should probably divide our forces into thirds for this one and…"
Rex felt himself relax the slightest bit, landing somewhere between attention and parade rest. Where the average captain would pay close attention and give input when needed, he took note of even the most minute details, remembered every single thing the generals said—or tried to, at least—and took pains to memorize the map—only ever giving his input when specifically asked for it.
Because that was the safe route, and it would also highlight his usefulness. It would show the Jedi that he was just as good a captain as the others; that he was still worthy of the rank.
For now…
Rex swallowed. The voice had become a constant during his early cadet years, an inner critic he had come to heed almost as often as he’d tried to ignore it. Sometimes it sounded like Nala Se or Lama Su. Sometimes it resembled more of the harsh shouting of his trainers, and sometimes that meant Alpha-17. Most times, however, it was a more cynical, wary version of his own voice that echoed off the walls of his mind.
But you had better watch your step, CT-7567—
Rex. It had been Rex for quite a while, now, but sometimes, the voice couldn't seem to remember this fact. That, or it just didn't care.
The briefing came to a close and the subsequent campaign went smoother than usual with minimal casualties
And Rex filed his mission report right on time.
Perfect.
For now…
Clenching a fist, he took a breath, then exhaled slowly.
"Based on the overall performance of CT-7567, along with his above-average testing scores, I believe he would make a good candidate for the Command Track."
"While I agree, I also believe we should keep a close watch on him, considering his defect. It is harder to perceive the personalities of defective subjects this early on in their growth cycle."
It had been easier to ignore the Kaminoans when they talked about him like he wasn’t standing right there; like he was some sort of casual statistic. It was the whispers that had always gotten to him instead. The hushed voices of the brothers who had too much to say and not enough time after curfew to say it.
"I heard that 'decommissioning' is when they take you and erase your memories. Turn you into a completely different person."
"No, you idiot, that's reconditioning. You only get decommed when you don't meet their expectations."
"Yeah, but what does it mean?"
"How am I supposed to know that?"
Rex had never really taken part in the late night whisperings of the others. Many of them gave him a hard time, anyway. Just for being different.
Inhale, exhale…
He couldn't recall when he had first learned what the word meant, that word they would all quickly come to dread. All he had known back then was that he'd once had a batchmate whose differences were a little more… noticeable than Rex's. And the Kaminoans had noticed.
Rex never saw him again, and for longer than he cared to admit, he didn't really know what had happened to his vod.
"Guys…” A cadet had whispered on night. “I think… I think 'decommission' means… death…"
“No… No, that can’t be it. You’re pulling my leg, aren’t you? Aren’t you…?”
That had made sense. In a dark, twisted sort of way, it had all made sense to a young Rex. After all, hadn't the Kaminoans spent more time than necessary reminding him and his brothers that they would only tolerate absolute perfection. Anything less would be… taken care of.
"Earth to Rex." A hand waved in front of his face and he forced himself not to jolt. "Do you copy?"
Blinking, Rex suppressed a shiver and shoved the memories away. Kamino was a thing of the past and he was going to great lengths to make sure it didn't become a part of his future…
"General Skywalker," Rex said, snapping to attention. The young Jedi just stared at him.
How long had he been zoning out like that? What had they even been doing before the memories had assaulted him…? Rex wracked his brain.
Nothing.
He had simply been standing in the conference room, waiting to give his mission debrief to his general. He'd gotten there early because it was better to be safe than sorry and—
"My apologies, sir," Rex pressed on. "I was…" What? Daydreaming? Lost in thought? Nothing he could come up with seemed like the right answer. "I didn't hear you come in."
Skywalker waved a hand and smiled. "No problem. You just… Well, you were all spaced out when I opened the door and I just wanted to make sure you were okay. Are you?"
"Never better, sir." Rex still wasn't entirely sure he'd couldn't not be.
"Good." Skywalker clapped him on the shoulder. "Now, let's get to the debriefing. That was one hell of a mission, wasn't it…?"
Coruscant was a nice home and Rex found himself beginning to grow fond of it, particularly during the times when the 501st and the 212th happened to have overlapping leaves. Plus, Fox was on Coruscant, though his schedule with the Guard kept him busier than most of the GAR divisions put together. There were also trips to the bar with Wolffe, and sometimes a handful of Torrent Company, as well as nightly sabacc games, a novelty that had exploded throughout the barracks once a few brothers from the Wolfpack discovered it and learned how to play.
It was all shaping up to be the kind of life Rex was coming to look forward to when he woke up each morning rather than dread like he had on Kamino. Back there, one wrong move, one slip-up could result in death. Here on Coruscant and the Resolute, Rex had lulled himself into a false sense of security. It had all just been so nice, so easy.
He should have known it wasn't meant to last. And he should've known that he would be the one to ultimately kriff it all up in some sort of way…
"So, I told her that if she ever said something like that to me again, we would be over just like that." Bly snapped his fingers for effect.
Cody barely glanced up from his datapad. "Nice try. That's the third time you've tried to convince me you're in a relationship when I know for a fact that this is your first real shore leave since the war started."
"Well, I never said I met her here." Bly drew another card. "I meet people on other planets during campaigns, you know."
"Of course, you do. You know what they say about war, it leaves plenty of time for romance and all that."
Rex snorted, drawing a card of his own before discarding. It was a quiet evening, one of his favorite kinds.
The 501st hadn't been back an hour when Rex was "kidnapped" by his vode to spend some quality time together before Wolffe's battalion shipped out. That had felt like ages ago. Now, only Cody, Bly, and Rex were left, Cody having abandoned their umpteenth sabacc game of the night in favor of his datapad.
"I bet," Rex added, exchanging a brief smirk with Cody, "you don't even know how to kiss a girl properly."
"Yeah?" Bly just shook his head. "I'd bet ten credits that I could do it better than you."
"Ten credits you don't have," Rex muttered, focusing back on the game and the poor cards in his hand—knowing his brother was probably right.
"All right, then, I'll bet my next shore leave that I can. Better?"
"Eh, I guess so. Except… There's one problem."
Bly cocked a brow and rearranged his cards. "Yeah? What's that?"
"To be certain you're telling the truth, I'd actually have to see you do it, and that's one scene I think my eyes are better off without witnessing. Ever."
"You can say that again," Cody agreed from his place at the desk.
Though the room was small, it had been a novelty for the three of them when they all discovered they would be getting their own private quarters as commanding officers. And while Rex would never brag about it, he knew his room was the biggest. He felt like his vode knew that, too, which was why they all tended to gather there on free nights.
Instead of replying, Bly just shook his head, smirked, and laid down his cards.
A Pure Sabacc.
Rex gave an exaggerated eye roll. "Cody, he's killing me. When are you gonna come back down here and push him off his pedestal?"
"You're just new to the game," Bly said, ever the good-natured one of the group. "You'll catch on. Eventually…"
Cody gave a short chuckle. "I'll be down in a second. I just need to finish going over these reports. I want to have them proofread and sent to General Kenobi by tomorrow morning. I swear, some of my captains… it's like the word grammar means nothing to them."
Rex felt every second of the color draining from his face. It was a distinct feeling, like plunging into a cold body of water. The shock of the impact, though slow in coming, hits with a dull, yet spikey chill that numbs to the core.
The sensation left him struggling to remember how to breathe.
"Rex?"
Reports…
He could've sworn… He could've sworn he had written it, submitted it, and—
But no… He’d gone straight off with Cody, Wolffe, and Bly, hadn’t he? Why kind of a captain are you?
Pull double your own weight and you’ll survive. You know this. And yet, here you are, slacking like a shiny fresh off the transport.
What’s wrong with you?
"Hey, vod'ika, are you in there?"
You kriffing di'kut, you forgot to write your damn mission report! How could you forget something so—?
"Rex!" Fingers snapped in front of his face and he glanced up at Bly, who sat back on his heels with a sigh. "That's better. You zoned out for a second and it's your turn to deal."
Rex noted Cody studying him out of the corner of his eye, his brother's expression tinged with concern.
"I…" Standing took several tries, a couple of which had Rex stumbling and bumping against the edge of the coffee table. "I've got to… I-I need…"
"We are only training the best of the best here on Kamino. Anyone found to be less than perfect will be given a… different purpose."
"I have to…" Sucking in a breath, Rex tried to clear his head as he grabbed his own datapad out of his pack, which hadn't been touched since he'd dumped it on the floor earlier that day. "I'll be right back."
Bly was on his feet now, cards scattered and discarded across the table. "Is everything all right?"
"CT-7567's scores have taken a slight dip. Perhaps it is time to re-evaluate his position in the Command Track."
"Yeah." Rex nodded. Maybe if he nodded vigorously enough, he would not only convince his brothers of that lie, but himself as well. "Yeah, yeah, everything's fine." It will be.
I hope.
"Perhaps it is time we re-evaluate CT-7567, period."
"Cody, I… I-I-I need to… to raise my test scores. They’re gonna… S-Somehow I-I need to be b-better, to… to… Cody!"
Cody said something. Bly did, too, but Rex was already out the door, praying they wouldn't follow him.
As he walked down the hall, he opened several programs on his datapad before he realized there wasn't any time.
You're out of time.
You’ve been out of time since this afternoon.
And then, he was running.
Maybe if he explained to the general, tried to make the Jedi understand…
Maybe he'll…
He'll what?
Rex didn't know. All he knew was that he needed to have had that report submitted hours ago. Now General Skywalker was going to—
To what?
Rex didn't know, and that was perhaps the most terrifying aspect of it all. He knew what the Kaminoans would do if they found out—if Skywalker told them.
Which he definitely will because anything less than perfect isn't acceptable and—
He had done this to himself, he knew that. Letting himself settle into a false sense of security that had tricked him into thinking he could simply live without having to look over his shoulder all the time. Without having to worry that one wrong move would shove him that much closer toward the day he got decommissioned.
One wrong move.
One tiny slip-up.
And he'd done it.
Failure.
Failure.
Failure!
The thin blond crop of hair burned against his skull and not for the first time, Rex wondered why he had to be different. Why he had to be defective.
Why life couldn't just be easy for once.
Why nothing ever seemed to go right for him…
With any luck—since when did you ever have luck?—the general would still be hanging around HQ. It’s nighttime already. He’s probably already tucked in his bed, di’kut.
Try.
He at least had to try.
One thin sliver of luck must have been shining down on him that evening because, after extensive searching, he found Skywalker in the main GAR hangar bay. The general was off in a more secluded corner, all his concentration seemingly centered on the underbelly of a small fighter ship.
Lungs screaming, Rex skidded to a halt and cursed himself for running all that way.
“Sir…” he began, gasping for air. He fought to straighten himself, to stand at attention when addressing his superior, but his legs felt like they were mere seconds away from giving out and he leaned against the side of the fighter. “General… S-Skywalker, I… I’m so sorry, sir. I can explain everything…”
“Is it me? Is it really just me?
Does everybody have it together or are we all pretending?
Is it me? Is it really just me?
Holding it together with one loose string
That I can’t stop, I can’t stop,
I can’t stop pulling…”