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It wasn't often that the 501st dealt SpecOps or Republic Intelligence. They were a boots on the ground battalion. Rough and ready to hit the dirt and shoot clankers all the live long day. Yet the stuff with the Leveler, demanded contact with the most secretive branches of the Grand Army of the Republic. Normally, Rex left the bureaucracy to Anakin, but he was the duty officer; Ahsoka was just a kid. At least it was Mereel taking his report. Nice to see a friendly face. Even if his cousins were unhinged bastards. Mereel's hair was a vivid electric blue this time and his irises dyed a shocking violet. "Any luck on your side gig?" he asked, trying to make small talk while they waited for the computer to erase Hellena Devis from existence. It scared Rex a little at times how Mereel and Jaing could make a person vanish.
Mereel shrugged. "Some leads here and there. Kal'buir paged me, said an old buddy of his needed help from a sticky situation." Mereel yanked the datastick from the terminal. "Was in the parsec so said sure." Mereel gave him a sympathetic look. "Sorry about your shinies."
The entire thing was botched from start to finished. Bad luck all around and his men paid the price. Rex pocketed the datastick. "Yeah. Damn shame." He barely knew them and their deaths already hung over him like a black storm cloud.
Mereel ruffled his hair, the light catching the iridescent color, waves of shimmering blue from the deepest indigos to the palest azures. "I'll give Kal'buir their names. He'll add them to the Remembrance. They won't be forgotten." The Null ARC patted a paper-wrapped box, his name — Rex Skirata — written in Mandolarian runes. "Anyway, he said to give you this." Mereel nudged the box. "Uj cake."
"He saw her didn't he?" Rex accepted the package. Unwanted memories burbling up: the Prime and her locked in combat, a promise being upended, her arms around him after Geonosis. A part of him — the bitter confused child — wanted to hate her, to withhold his forgiveness. Combat, real combat — not the sims he trained with — changed a man. Watching his brothers die, mowed down by battle droids, hearing their screams as they died — calling for the men and women that trained them, the closest thing they had to a parent — sweet Manda, he still had nightmares.
"Intel wanted her as a contractor. Kal'buir said he'll ask, but…"
Rex nodded. "She said no." It was wishful thinking hoping she'd agree. She made it very clear that that part of her life was behind her. Mereel scribbled something on a scrap of flimsi.
"Her commlink frequency, call her when you get a minute." Rex shoved the scrap into his pocket. "Talking to your buir makes everything better."
The seal hissed, locking out the outside world. "Uj cake works too." Rex scooped up the package. "Well, better hide this before the boys get wind of it." He clasped Mereel's forearm. "K'oyacyi, vod."
Mereel laughed, the lines around his eyes crinkling. "Same to you, Rex." He patted Rex on the dome of his bucket. "Call your buir."
"Lek, lek." He ducked another patronizing head pat, pirouetting on his heel and out into the p-way of the Resolute.
Rex took the lesser used p-ways on his way back to the officer quarters. Didn't need Fives or Hardcase or Jesse noticing that he got a package. Didn't need them asking about what was in the package. Uj cake could last for a good six months; Rex planned on drawing that out for as long as possible. Saliva pooled on his tongue just thinking about the nutty spicy sweet cake his mother made. The quiet moments on Kamino after lights out when she huddled them together and pass around pieces of the cake and told them stories of Mandalore. Sometimes the Prime would come with Boba. Their voices harmonizing as they sang the Paean of Kli'una and Kov Ordo; Wolffe would tease Bly about being a hopeless romantic. Aruetiise often said that Mando'a sounded like a harsh brutal language, noting that Mando'a had more terms for weapons and insults that any other language recognized by the academics of the Republic. Rex would love to let those same bookish heads listen to Jango and Kaisa sing the Paean and then tell him Mando'a was a harsh and brutish language.
"Baka!" Rex stopped, head cocking to the side at suddenness of Togruti's unique vowel trill. "Baka! Baka! Baka!" a datapad clattered into the p-way. A long delicate crack in the screen, small cracks spiderwebbing from the epicenter. Ahsoka ran out, skidding to a startled halt at the sight of him. Her lekku hung limp and lifeless, the blue a sallow pale color and her eyes doe-wide. "Rexster!" she waved her hand, using the Force to pick up her broken datapad. "Uh… hi." The blue of her lekku flushed to a midnight indigo color. Rex cocked his head, noticed she had removed the coveralls that Pallaeon insisted she wear on the Leveler. He snapped his eyes to her face, willing to heat to leave his cheeks. He will have words with Anakin later about proper attire for a budding teenage girl surrounded by millions of men that had zero experience with the fairer sex.
"Commander." He gave her a curt nod. His quarters just a few meters beyond. He could feel her eyes travel over his body, her psyche prod his, curious as a tooka. "Something wrong?" he nodded to her datapad.
"Nope!" She grinned, showing off her fangs. "Just trying to get my datapad to work." She flipped the busted thing between her palms. "Whatcha got there?" she nodded to his precious box. Rex tightened his grip on it. Ahsoka grinned, impish delight in her eyes as she trotted over to him. "Is it confiscated contraband?" Her lekku wiggled as she nudged him. "I heard Coric and Fives talking about this film about two Twi'lek girls and—"
"Okay!" Rex spun her around. "Thank you for letting me know about Fives and Coric, I will see to it that they are properly disciplined." He gave her another shove between her shoulder blades. "Go in and wait for me. I'll fix your datapad."
"Where you going?" she side-eyed him. The snort crackled through his vocorder.
"To get you a shirt."
A few minutes later, he was fitting a new screen onto her datapad while she watched him, swimming in his shirt. The red went well with the tangerine of her skin and the blue of her lekku. Not that he'll admit that. "I don't see why I need to wear this," she said, plucking at the red fabric. "I'm perfectly fine without it." He arched a brow. "What?"
"You're practically in your skivvies," he said, leveling a jeweler's screwdriver at her. "I am going to have words with General Skywalker, suvarir?" He finished screwing down the screen and slipped the delicate screwdriver back into his utility belt. He pressed the power button and the screen winked into light. The Republic cog glowed a soft teal, rotating as the slim piece of tech booted up. A passcode screen appeared superimposed on a picture of him in half his armor. Years of training kept is face impassive. "What's your passcode?"
"2 2 6 1," she said. He punched the code in, sighing in relief at the standard issue background once he got it open. He will not think about her lock screen picture. No. Nope. He will not go there. It was unprofessional on his part. He'll let it slide with her, because she's just a kid, experiencing the world for the first time. He knew better. She was a Jedi and his commanding officer.
"All fixed," he said, handing it back to her. She grinned, lekku tips twitching. "What were you trying to access, anyway?"
"The Jedi Archives," she said, tapping away at the screen. A relieved sigh escaped her. "Finally." She tapped again and then held the datapad up at him. "Okay, what was that word you said?"
Was this a jetii thing? Rex arched his brow. "Anyway?" he watched the datapad record his voice and the dictionary definition of anyway popped up. Ahsoka frowned, she hissed something in Togruti, her back lek thumping against her spine.
"No not that, the other word. Suvaneer or whatever it is." She reset the audio input and held it up to him again. "Go on say it."
"Suvarir?" The word popped up, a bare bones definition. She trilled in delight, her back lek thumping twice in her delight. Rex drummed his fingers on his box of uj cake. "Commander—"
"Ahsoka," she said, flicking a lek at him. "Nobody around but us." She looked at him square in the eye. "I saw you cry" — he flinched — "I think we're both earned the right to call each other by our names, nah?" She arched a white brow marking at him. Rex sighed, glancing at his helmet on her desk. She had found him after JanFathal, sitting alone in the chief's mess, a cup of caf between his hands. The little Togruta had cut through his defenses with her calm demeanor and empathetic understanding. The fact she sought him out and shared his pain over the lost of their men — it gave him a newfound respect for her. Each day she was proving to be more than just a snarky upstart youngling.
"Right." On Kamino, Kaisa always included uj cake in their Mando'a lessons. He got up and closed the door. He sat back down on her rack, popping off his pauldron and shucking his upper body armor. Ahsoka watched him, her head held unnaturally still as if he was a skittering prey animal; the tips of her lekku twitched. He leaned against the bulkhead. "Ahsoka," he began again, unwrapping the package and opening up the box. Saliva pooled once again in his mouth as the sweet spicy smell hit is nose. It was the closest scent of home he ever known in his life. Ahsoka eyed the cake. "Are you trying to learn Mando'a?" he asked.
Her lekku darkened and she looked away. "You and that clone with the blue hair—"
"Mereel," he said. She nodded.
"Yeah, him. You and Mereel were talking and, well… I wanted to know what was so funny." She hugged her knobby knees to her chest. His shirt swallowing her in scratchy red fabric. He pulled out a knife, cutting a wedge off for her. "I was trying to pull up a language course when my datapad crashed." She accepted the cake, sniffing it with a predator's caution. Rex cut a piece off for himself and popped the entire thing into his mouth.
If his moan of delight sounded erotic… well, naysayers can fuck off. His eyes fluttered closed, savoring the taste and heady memories. The last couple of days felt distant and far away, manageable and not so bad. It all became a dull ache at the base of his skull, along with all the other bullshit he had to endure in his life. Ahsoka was still staring at her piece. He swallowed. "Eat. It's good." Ahsoka looked at him and then took a bite. Her lekku brightened, all three twitching in excitement as she gobbled it up and held out her hand for more. He chuckled, cutting her another slice. "Good, lek?"
"Lek?" she picked up her left one and let it flop against her shoulder. Rex snorted, rubbing his nose; he cut himself another slice.
"No. Lek is yeah in Mando'a." He set the uj cake between them, placing his knife on top and folded his legs into the lotus position. "Elek is yes or an affirmative response. Nayc is no or a negative answer. Suvarir… understand?"
The little Togruta shimmied up into a sitting position, spine ramrod straight. A serious air clouded her face, but the effect was damped by his oversize shirt hanging from her slim shoulders. It was better, he reminded himself, than seeing her in that strip a cloth around her breasts. "I think so," she said. "Elek is yes, lek is yeah, nache is no." He shook his head. "What? I said it right."
He cut small piece of uj cake, popping it into his mouth. "The first two you did, but nayc is naysh, the c makes sh sound." He nodded.
"Nayc," she said, getting it on her second attempt. Rex smiled, handing her another piece. "Anything else?"
He tapped his tigh, humming as he thought of the best way to teach her the language. "Ni jetii."
She wrinkled her nose. If he was drunk, he'd have told anyone it was cute. "What? What does that mean?"
"I am a Jedi. Ni jetii." He nodded. Ahsoka repeated it. "Jate, good. Um… let's see. Ner gai Rex. My name is Rex." He pointed to her.
"Oh, er… ner gai Ahsoka."
He grinned, giving her another piece of cake. "Ori'jate! Very good. Uh… shab."
"Shab," she parroted.
Rex blinked, before laughing. "Wayii!" he slapped his thigh. "Nayc, nayc, Ahsoka. Don't say that." He coughed, almost swallowing a piece of uj cake the wrong way in his mirth. "Shab… shab… shab means fuck." He covered his mouth as he chuckled. "Don't say that. Especially around Cody or Anakin."
Ahsoka shrugged. "Anakin wouldn't care," she said, plucking at the fabric of his shirt. "I know he dumped me on you this time. That he's always dumping me on you to go see Padmé." Rex paled. How did she know about the general and the senator. "All the younglings know and what they know the entire Temple knows," she explained, as if she could read his mind. "He thinks he's being clever and secretive, but he's not. We're living beings too, we have feelings and emotions and desires. Jedi are just supposed to transcend those baser instincts." She hugged herself, shrinking into the shirt that was two sizes too big for her. "So, I get it if you resent having to babysit me because my own master can't be bothered."
Rex scratched his cheek. Damn, he'll have to shave again. At least he didn't feel any ingrown hairs. "I wasn't wanted on Kamino," he said, causing her to look up at him. "I was considered... defective."
"Defective?" she tilted her head. "How? Why?"
"Blond hair." He patted his bald head. "Genetic quirk in mongrels — natborns — sign of deviancy in clones. I was also on the shorter side and too independent thinking. All outside the quality control perimeters. The longnecks wanted to cu— decommission me." He couldn't meet her eyes, couldn't let her in on one of the dark secrets of Kamino, a secret that all clones — even him — lived in fear of: decommissioning.
"They kill you," Ahsoka said, her voice soft, almost lost in the ambient noise of the ship. "For being a bit different?" he nodded, wiggling a nail between his blacks and thigh place. The pain hurt, but it was a good distraction. "That's… that's…" she snarled, sounding like an enraged nexu and said something foul in Togruti. At least he assumed it was foul, the way her lekku writhe like angry snakes and her blue eyes burned like sapphire flames. "How could they do that?"
Rex shrugged. "We aren't… sentient to them. We're products. Units. Things." Maybe Slick was right. Maybe they were slaves and the Jedi was using a slave army. "So if we don't meet quality control standards or an experiment doesn't pan out" — he shrugged — "they kill us. We all knew it happened, and we strove to make sure it didn't happen to us or our batchmates or our squad mates." He packed up the uj cake. "I get it, not wanting to be a burden. Trying to be perfect so you'll be wanted." Ahsoka looked at her knees. "So, let me clear up one thing, Ahsoka: we want you. Me and my brothers. We want you with us. We want you fighting by our side, watching our backs. We don't think you're a burden."
Ahsoka beamed, tears bright in her azure eyes. She leaned forward and for a moment Rex thought she might kiss him, but she wrapped her arms around him and squeezed him tight. "Thanks Rexster. You're a great friend." He hugged her.
"Ah, well… got a lot of practice in reassuring ad'ike like you." He let her go after one more squeeze. "Tomorrow, we can do another lesson, I'll think up of actual things." He slipped from her rack and kitted back up. "Better than whatever shabla program your 'pad has." Ahsoka grinned, fangs glinting.
"You know I can ask Fives for all the naughty words." She wiggled her lekku, teasing him. He reached out, mischief glinting in his eyes, and tugged a lek. She squeaked, nudging him back with the Force. "I'll make you pay for that."
"If I find out Fives taught you bad words," he said, picking up his helmet and shoving it back on. "You'll both be cleaning the freshers with a toothbrush." Ahsoka gave a shriek and tossed her pillow at him. He ducked, slamming his hand onto the panel to open the door, laughing at he dodged another pillow. "For a month!" he hollered, now safe on the other side of the door.
"Njarree!" she shouted; Rex laughed, slipping into his cabin and closing the door. He pulled his helmet off and set it on his desk along with his uj cake. Then he pulled out the slip of flimsi and his commlink.
It took a few minutes for it to connect, but soon an image of a petite Mandalorian woman appeared. "Rex," she said.
Rex smiled, sitting on his rack. "Su'cuy Mama."