Jiliu AU 8.1
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A/N:
Long time, no read, my dear audience. I could give you many, many excuses, but I won't. I'll spare you the salt. I hope this chapter, long though it might be, makes up for some of the wait. I have missed writing. More is to follow.
Warnings:
Anakin, Rex and Jesse all think they know things but they don't, even though they can now technically read each other's minds. My typical grammar, spelling and punctuation mistakes, medical inaccuracies, my attempts at writing panic attacks (or the left overs of panic attacks? Was that last chapter? IDK, there is so much here. It might be anxiety????), the clones' situation in general. Mention of starvation, over working, sleep dep, and all the other fun times the Guard go through. Evil Rats.
Also. I cannot write Hardcase to save my life. I love him, but I don't understand him. It is Becoming a Problem. It is incredibly upsetting. If anyone has any character study recs for him, I would be very happy to read them.
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The General handed one of the many, many datapads scattered across the table to Ridge, gesturing expressively with his hands, mouth moving a click a second.
Rex sipped at the water that was so important to his jetii, watching his men and their General interact thoughtfully.
They were reviewing Skywalker's ideas for shielding. The General had vetoed his earlier 'solar system' idea himself for reasons that weren't entirely clear to Rex—something about closed circuits?— but had quickly moved on to explaining a technique he was describing as layered mirrors. While he talked, he swiped through no less than fourteen different datapads scattered across the table top, leaving them open to various documents from the Jedi Archives that apparently supported his idea. As if any of them cared about what the holobooks said.
For his part, Rex had taken a step back.
He had never seen General Skywalker like this outside of the heat of battle, when he shed the cloak of Adviser and Force Sensitive Wild Card he had wrapped himself in so tightly since—Rex really, really hoped—well before he had been assigned to Torrent.
Oh, sure, Rex had seen brief flashes of it in campaign planning in the three weeks he had known him, but it rarely became more than an interesting fact about the local culture that revealed where the heaviest defenses would be, or pointing out what the air currents must be with the land scape being what it was, and even a warning to avoid a then-unknown droid infested valley once.
Anakin Skywalker, newly Knighted Jedi General, adamantly left the planning to Rex and his Lieutenants.
If he was honest with himself, and Rex tried to be, the only reason Rex knew Skywalker was holding himself back was because of what happened when Rex's plans failed.
Every time, without fail, General Skywalker stepped up, and started barking orders. When they needed a miracle, he pulled one out of thin air, or possibly even the Force. As a suicide company, they often needed miracles. Somehow, someway, it worked out better than Rex could have ever hoped...even if the General's plans were more than a little fish-brained. This last mission was just the latest in a string of bad missions.
Bottom line was that it worked. Every. Single. Time. Rex didn't understand it, but he was well past the point of caring now.
He just wished...he could have a genuine conversation with the mind that could spit out fully formed strategies between one moment and the next. Except the General had stepped onto the Resolute with walls sealed water tight around his center.
Then-Rex hadn't cared. Here was just one more being for him to work around. Here was an obstacle that could and likely would order his vod'e to their deaths if given half a reason, or even no reason at all.
Then-Rex was wrong.
Rex had asked himself more than a few times on various missions if his attitude been the thing that well and truly cut him off from the General. Was it something Rex had done? Or was it a learned behavior from well before Rex had ever known Anakin Skywalker existed?
Rex knew which he hoped it wasn't, even if the alternative was worse in regards to the General's life before Torrent, which was already looking pretty bleak to begin with. Lonely.
Kix's exhausted voice draws Rex out of his thoughts. "It all sounds feasible to me, General," he said. "How should we begin?"
The General nods. He was...nervous, Rex realized with surprise. Anxious, almost.
"We can try the shielding in a little while, then, when you've all settled a little more," the General says, no hint of his nerves in his voice. Kix didn't look at Rex, but he could still feel the glare. Rex narrows his eyes at the medic. What was he supposed to do—convince the telepath that they could handle an experiment not even half an hour after he'd sliced into their heads? Right. "In the mean time, we have a few decisions to make. There are choices. We need supplies, and from what I can tell, we aren't getting them, and we won't be." Ghost Blue eyes, only a few shades off from Torrent Blue if their paint looked like it glowed, flick from Vod to Vod.
They nod in agreement, because denying it would do them and their vod'e no favors.
"Our first choice is this: we can either make do with what we get..." The General trails off, near buzzing with the nervousness he wasn't showing. When they don't say anything, simply waiting, he continues. "Or...we get those supplies outside of...official channels."
Rex's spine snapped straight. What?
Jesse cleared his throat. "That's...not a bad idea..." he said quietly.
Ridge crossed his arms, frowning. "Maybe not, but how do you propose we do that?"
The General shrugged almost helplessly. He probably hadn't expected them to take him seriously. It was a trend Rex might've actually hated. Admittedly, if they had been any other group of Vod'e, he likely would have had his work cut out for him convincing them to take this course, but they were Torrent. They had been on their own for long enough to seize any chance to add any amount of padding separating themselves and Death at every opportunity. "I have some ways...I know some people," he admitted sheepishly. "It takes work, but," his eyes met Rex's, and his mouth curved into a hint of a smile, "I don't think any of you have a problem with that."
They did not.
They couldn't afford to.
Denal watched the General somberly. "If we had been assigned to another command, were you planning on giving us this information?"
Anakin shrugged again, and he ducked his head down uncomfortably. "I was going to direct you to Guide. He's a Vod in the Coruscant Guard—"
Rex blinked, baffled. Why would he direct them to a Corrie?
"—and I've shown him a lot of...this kind of thing." The General fiddled with some of the wires on his table. Rex watched his fingers, tracking the slight hitch of the new mechanical fingers. Where had his other mech hand gone? It had been a much better quality. Rex pointedly ignored the insistence in the back of his mind telling him that the General did not fidget, that for him to be doing so now said /something/, even if Rex did not know what. "If you decide this is a good way to go, I'm still going to involve him because I...still can't leave this room without having a seizure."
Everyone winced. Coming out of hyperspace had been unpleasant for everyone.
The General continued, unbothered. "To get raw credits, sabacc or other card games are possibilities, as is betting on various pod races, though the latter is a lot more likely to get you arrested. Credits aren't really necessary, because several of the people I'll be sending you to are usually more than pleased to trade services for goods," he explained, fingers twisting wires and fingernails screwing tiny screws in place. Was he actually building something? "Those goods can then be traded for other things that we can actually make use of, or even trade again for something else."
This all sounded very good. Rex really only saw one rather major obstacle.
Jesse piped up, voicing Rex's thoughts. "We may have issues getting to those places without you, sir." He met General Skywalker's eyes unflinchingly. Warning of danger ahead was his job as a scout, and the General had always heeded him before. "Not every place is as welcoming as the Temple."
The General nodded in agreement, then said rather dryly, "Helmets or masks with hoods are high fashion in those parts."
That...made sense.
Rex's men made their own noises of understanding, and the General went on.
"There are more places that are clone friendly than just 79s, Jesse," Skywalker—and it was Anakin Skywalker saying this, not General Skywalker—told him with the upmost seriousness, "and if we do this thing, than you're going to be visiting quiet a few of those places. Even if those places are homes of people who are more concerned about whether or not you take off you shoes before leaving the foyer, than if you have a perfectly unique face."
Hardcase fiddled with the cuff of his gloves. "Foyer?" He asked almost hesitantly. As hesitantly as Hardcase was about anything.
"Mm," The General hummed. "Foyer. There's a woman, an older Rodian, named Miz. Met her a few years ago, and fixed her air filters and cooling unit. Very good shot with her pistol, and vicious about keeping her spaces clean, so if you don't take your shoes at the door, she will shoot you point blank." Rex would be concerned about how amused the General sounded, but he had seen his jetti do and say crazier. "She's one of the better people at pointing me in the right direction when I'm looking for something in particular."
He looked them over them while they processed this.
One of the biggest challenges Torrent faced with every mission was limited medical supplies. Only having four official medics didn't help, but they could work with that. That being said, no medic, however capable, could do much of anything without even basic supplies, like bandages.
Another obstacle was weaponry. They had blasters for every trooper, but amo ran dry in the middle of missions far more often than anyone was comfortable with. Energy cells could be and were recharged before, during and after missions to alleviate some of that strain, but there was only so much they could do when the standard issue energy cells they were given stopped holding charge every five or so recharges.
Food was...also a concern. There was only so much they could do to stretch rations when under fire.
This...could work.
Rex's bones just about turned to gel, and it was only sheer willpower that kept him from running shaking fingers over his buzz. He had known Torrent had been missing out with the General holding himself back as he had been, but he will admit he hadn't realized the true extent of that truth until now.
Thank the Force Skywalker had finally decided to accept his place among them.
Maybe now they could show him what support felt like on the other end of it.
"How are you feeling now?" The General broke the silence that had settled over them. "Are you ready to learn how to shield a bond?"
No. They were not.
"As we'll ever be, sir," Jesse said anyway.
Hesitation touched the skin between the General's eyebrows. He had, of course, heard what they weren't saying, how they very much did not want to shield anything much less their brand new bonds, but visibly steeled himself, and began explaining the shielding process her had lead Rex himself through earlier.
Rex knew why the General was so insistent on the shielding; he did. He didn't want his jetii experiencing his nightmares either. This knowledge did not make forming and then /holding/ a shield up any easier.
Mind to mind wasn't quite the same with a wall between the participants.
Hoping to help his vod'e with this uncomfortable process, Rex wordlessly passed his understanding of Bond shielding along. The thanks they send back to him in the slant of their shoulders spoke volumes.
Eventually, all of them manage to erect 'thin' shields over their 'side' of the Force Bond under their own power. If the slight crinkles between eye brows, or slight dips in the corners of mouths and the slant of armored shoulders was anything to go by, each and every one of them was just as unhappy with the success as Rex himself was.
Curling into himself almost apologetically, but also looking like he didn't regret making them learn to shield the bond, the General rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. Rex caught his gaze, and held it. The General blinked at him, questioningly. Rex blinked back slowly.
What next, General?
The General stared into Rex's eyes blankly for several seconds. Rex watched in fascination as thoughts zipped through Skywalker's eyes faster than Rex could track. Raindrops on Kamino.
Anakin really wanted to know what Rex expected from him.
The thought flew out of nowhere to nail Rex right in the forehead, and he flinched back.
What in haren was that?
While Rex flailed mentally, scrambling, a new thought struck like lightning. Rex froze, a looming sense of terror rising to curl above him. He shoved it away. His vod'e's head snap around to pin him in place with glares of various intensities. Hardcase missed the mark entirely, but Denal's was particularly searching, and Kix's, as always, was by far the most fiery. He ignored them.
What could they do? Test it.
Skywalker—and he was Skywalker, Rex forcefully reminded himself, as that is how he introduced himself, and so that is what Rex would call him—was the one to voice it.
"If you can barely stand some of the lightest shielding I have ever seen..." he said slowly, "how are you going to handle having two heavy-duty artificial shields between us?"
Jesse swore. Hardcase swallowed hard, eyes darting from Vod to Vod before settling back on Rex again. Ridge stiffened, and Denal paled. Kix, the mir'sheb he was, just grimaced, not particularly surprised.
It would be nice if Kix would share his thoughts more often, Rex laminated to himself. If only so things would stop taking Rex by surprise so often.
Rex gathered himself, just long enough to feel more solid, then said what they were all thinking anyway. "We'll have to send two out to test it." The words came out of his mouth as anything did, but the film they left on his teeth and tongue was bitter. He put the glass of water, half finished, in a clear spot on the table. His fingers quivered slightly as they left the glass, so he curled them into his palm.
What else could they do? It wasn't like they could stay in this room forever. They had to go back to the rest of Torrent at some point.
Its not like they hadn't all lost vod'e before—they could survive it again. It would only be temporary.
The glaring, having slipped slightly at the General's question, snapped back to him, stronger than before.
Kix caught his eye, and Rex forced himself to breath, even as Jesse pulled Skywalker's attention to himself.
In, two, three, four, hold, two, three, four, five, out, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight.
The General is fine, Rex told himself. He doesn't feel dead anymore, hasn't since he had dropped whatever shield he had put up before. He's just...weirdly flat right now.
Distant, almost. Shielded.
It's not natural.
Rex shoved that thought down as far as it could go, and buried it under all the other oisk he wouldn't live long enough to deal with.
The General did not need to hear that. Ever.
Forcing himself to put down roots in the present, Rex turned his attention to his jetii, ignoring the ifs-ands-maybes clamoring for his consideration.
The General blinked, surprised and something else Rex couldn't name. Rex waited, mind carefully blank. The General's eye flick from Jesse, to Rex, then Kix, and back again. "Yeah," he said slowly, "alright. I can comm someone to show the pair around."
"That won't be necessary, sir," Denal said. He looked up from the datapad he had been scrolling through. The one the General had handed Ridge on shielding techniques, if Rex recalled correctly. "We downloaded the Temple map to our buckets when we were transporting you here."
The General raised his eyebrows. He had questions; Rex saw them. He didn't ask any of them. "Normally not," he agreed instead, "but if the chosen two go out and collapse, I imagine things would go much more smoothly if they had someone with them who knew to drag them back here, than if they didn't."
Denal tipped his head in silent acceptance. "Good point, sir."
Looking faintly amused, Skywalker said, "I have someone in mind for that," because of course he did, "but, ah—" at this, his eyes slid hesitantly over to Rex, then away again. "Should we first test my mirror shield idea to see if maybe we could get used to the feeling of shields? Those ones I can at least drop in a second," he offered.
The terror spiked again, but Rex stomped it flat. He forced himself to look at this logically. Rex was very good at being logical. He had raised himself to be that way, to compensate for his defect on Kamino.
He was very good at being logical. It never got easier.
"That is probably," the words grind on the way out, but they do come out, "the smart thing to do," Rex agreed carefully. He had everyone's attention now. Pieces moved together like rusty machinery, but he got them to fit. As he picked up speed, oxidized metal flaked off, smoothing the process. He nodded along with his thoughts as a fuzzy plan took form. "You said before, that your shielding idea was like overlapping armor pieces."
Skywalker nodded, eyes locked on Rex.
Rex raised his chin, and met him head on. "I take point."
Skywalker grinned. "Don't you always?"
