Chapter Text
On the outskirts of the Empire lived a young man named Rex. Brawny and blond, and a little too bossy for some people’s tastes, he spent the majority of his time taking care of his little brothers, training with his blasters on some old haystacks behind their farm, and sometimes taking his speeder out to the Outer Rim, where he would spend long hours in the flowery, lonely meadows.
There Rex sometimes practiced stunts with his blaster and pretended he was the hero of grand adventures. More importantly, however, he found a little peace away from all his chores and responsibilities as well as his army of pestering brothers and his parents . . . and the servant girl.
She was the only person besides his family that Rex had any significant amount of interaction with, and her feisty, arrogant nature never ceased to annoy him.
Her name was Ahsoka, and he found no greater torment than in her constant, nagging questions. Rex’s brothers got along well with her, but she would always hanker specifically after him to let her use his blaster, practice on his speeder, and otherwise take time away from him and away from her duties. Neither did it help that she said she was Force-sensitive, but all she could do with her powers was, at best, twitch a flower or pull a trigger — which she usually did at the worst of times. Often he wondered if his parents were even getting their money’s worth from her. Of course, the large farm and many tauntauns required a great deal of upkeep for him and his brothers, so Ahsoka was charged with much of the household work his mother required help with, but instead of staying inside with Shaak Ti she always seemed to spend more time outside and bothering him.
It was a sweet stroke of luck when, one day, he found a way to deal with her. No matter what obnoxious question she asked, or unasked-for suggestion she made, he began to only ever respond with “Sure, kid.”
At first, she would flare up and try to argue, and he would take great satisfaction in her annoyance. But over the years her fire towards him faded a little — much to his initial disappointment and confusion.
She replaced it with a strange calmness and softness that really didn’t quite fit her headstrong personality. Even more strangely, he began to find himself saying “hey, kid” to try and get her attention more often, and “sure, kid” to tell her yes in an intentional way, rather than a dismissive way.
And now, when he called her kid , he did so quietly. Softly. And she replied with a demure upward glance and long lashes that did things to his brain and made his heart skip a beat. Sweet and clear eyes — providing a view and a sensation of warmth that he knew would surely linger on into his dreams.
His brothers were the first to tell him that what he was really trying to telling her, with his sures and his heys and his kids, was that he loved her. It took a few weeks of denial, but one day, in the midst of showing her how he performed a double-backflip off a rushing speeder while holding a pistol, when she first landed flat on the ground and he was there to help her up and say kiddd in an exasperated tone, he realized that his brothers were right.
His brothers also said that she was saying I love you back with her sweet eyes and strange softness, and he wondered if, maybe, just maybe . . . they were right about that too.
“Hey, kid,” he said to her one day, but stuttered as he spoke. He winced at what he might have given away with his nervousness.
She paused in the doorway, and looked at him expectantly.
“Er,” was all that came out of his mouth. He was floundering. He gestured lamely towards the shelf, seeking something to finish his sentence. “Fetch me that datapad?”
Ahsoka crossed the room, appearing a little confused, and picked up the datapad and gave it to him. “Sure, Rex.”
He definitely hadn’t noticed the way the afternoon light frosted her orange skin with dusky gold, and on no accounts had he seen her shirt ride up just a tad when she leaned up to fetch the datapad. It was definitely just his own stupid nervousness that’d caught his tongue. Yes. Oh, where was his sternness, his bravado that must be what had attracted her to him? He was the captain of his brothers, capable and calm but just now . . .
She paused, because he wasn’t saying anything, and looked up at him with a question shimmering in her eyes.
“Ahsoka,” he began again, very unsure. The room felt very warm and she seemed utterly too close.
“Oh, so you do know I have a name,” she murmured, leaning still closer.
“It’s, uh, a very pretty one. For a servant . . .” Kriff , he was bad at this. The datapad dropped unheeded to the desk.
“And am I only a servant to you?” Oh — her big blue eyes, deep and bright, a few inches away. She was so beautiful. Had he ever noticed quite how beautiful she was before?
“Uh, of course not.”
She laughed, and then her lips were on his, and all thoughts of being cool were gone for a long, long time.
***
Since Rex’s family had no remarkable amount of money to its name, just a farm and many children that involved a great deal of labor and expense, it soon became clear that Ahsoka would need to venture forth in search of fortune if they ever wished to have a proper life together.
“That you’re willing to give me your favorite blaster, just so I can remember you by, is truly a sign of desperation,” she told him on the day they had to say goodbye. Despite the weight in his heart, he had to laugh a little.
“What if something happens to you?” he asked. “I should be coming with you, to protect you —”
“You have to trust your own skills, Rex,” she said, fondly reaching up to run a hand down his chest. “You’re an amazing teacher — and person. And your brothers need you. What would your family do without you?”
“I don’t know,” he said, biting his lip and taking her hand in his. “Kix is almost old enough. He could help my parents maybe well enough if I’m gone.”
“You know as well as I do,” she said softly. “Shaak Ti and Jango will need your help.”
“But what if I need you ?”
“Need me?”
“ You’re an amazing person. You’re amazing to talk to. You’re . . . Ahsoka,” he trailed off. She gave him a small smile.
“Try not to worry,” she said. “I’m not so easy to get rid of, as you know. And this is true love. I think the Force itself must be rooting for us if we were lucky enough to find each other in the first place.”
“But —”
She silenced him with a kiss, and he held her for a while, arguments having run out. Then she stepped back. She looked gorgeous, even in a simple gray cloak, her two little montrals poking the cloth into cat ears.
He did his best to give her a genuine smile.
“May the Force be with you, Ahsoka.”
“Good luck, Rex.” And with that, she was gone.
She had just inspired hope and faith in him that both their wildest dreams would come true. Because Ahsoka always knew, somehow — maybe that Force stuff she talked about. So, she would be back eventually. The Force would make it so.
And when he got the news that her ocean transport had been attacked by the Dread Pirate Hondo, who never left prisoners alive, he swore to never be so naive as to trust in the Force ever again.
***
Five years later, and Rex’s life was markedly different. A stormtrooper patrol had one day wandered by the farm, and, seeing how adept Rex was with a blaster and skillful he was in directing his brothers, they attempted to recruit him, spending several hours going over training particulars as well as the wage the Empire would offer for a promising young officer like Rex.
Shaak Ti was concerned, but Jango was thrilled.
Rex himself tried to resist. Everyone knew that the Empire was led by the evil Emperor — a purported Sith in disguise. Ahsoka had said that the Dark Side of the Force was strong in the hearts of the stormtroopers she and Rex had met before her departure. Not that Rex believed in such a thing as the Force anymore.
But belief in the Force or not, everyone knew the Empire was corrupt, and if Rex didn’t choose to depart with the stormtroopers, he felt miserably sure that they would come back later for his family’s farm — or worse, his younger brothers, and take them before they were ready for dangers such as the army set forth.
Thinking about Ahsoka and how her loss officially untied him to the farm, and then doing his best not to think about her so he could bear dressing up in cadet armor, he rode away from home on a speeder, at the back of a line of stormtroopers.
If he was being honest, stormtrooper life was right up his alley. He was a natural at giving orders, and quite as good at following them, as it turned out. He quickly ranked up. He didn’t see a lot of combat other than putting down little insurrections around the capital city of Coruscant, however. Eventually, he earned his jaig eyes, and then a name for himself as one of the city’s best up-and-coming captains. The Emperor himself once came by to congratulate him, and he was personally thanked by the shadowy-white-chin-under-the-hood himself.
Something about that event rubbed him wrong, though. The act of service for which he was commended to the Emperor, and which the Emperor saw fit to personally speak with him, was leading a strike team against an operation that Rex wasn’t so sure deserved it anymore. From that time forward, Rex began to conduct his own little investigation into the Empire. He told only his commanding officer, Cody, whom he trusted to not tell another soul.
Rex’s greatest pleasure — in the absence of his family and the one who had stolen and broken his heart so long ago — became his work. He spent long hours compiling data and then riding it out on speeder to the Outer Rim plains to work on it in solitude, where he could be assured that no one would find him. When he spent long hours working through connections and evidence and practicing with his blaster for breaks, he could forget, just for a little while, the evil of the Empire that he had contentedly nurtured for so long, as well as his dead beloved one who reminded him of all the light that had escaped his life.
Sometimes he dreamed about just staying there, in the Outer Rim, enjoying the sweet sunshine and the nodding blue flowers, never going back.
One day on his ride out to the Rim, he came across a group of three strangers in the woods — three men. There were two dressed in identical gray shirts and black slacks, with dark skin like his but black, not blond, hair. He could’ve mistaken them for brothers but for their difference in build. One was very tall and extraordinarily muscular, while the other was about Rex’s (still rather tall and powerful) height and build. He felt that, strangely . . . maybe he had seen them somewhere before.
The third man had a long white chin and neat gray hair, and wore red robes and a conniving expression. His wrinkled hands were steepled together beneath a smile that made Rex’s nerves quake.
“Sorry, sir, but we are poor and lost circus performers,” he told Rex, stepping forward and spreading his hands in a flourishing manner. “Is there a village nearby? We seem to have taken a wrong turn.”
“Wrong turn?” Rex said, eyebrow up. “I may need to give you a ride. There’s not a thing nearby, not for miles.”
“Excellent,” said he, smile growing ever wider, “then there will be no one to hear you scream.”
The last thing Rex registered was a circular blue bolt, and a sizzling sensation — he hoped it wasn’t his hair — before his world went black.