#Fool. They'd follow you to the ends of the galaxy.

[bumblingbabooshka]

'Maneuvers' Wherein both Tuvok & Chakotay get in trouble.

[sparatus]

TRICK OR TREAT 💀🍖

these are late as shit cause halloween only lasts 4 more hours but fuck it that's on brand for me innit

random coin flipper says...

TREAT!

have saren being a lovesick fool. hitting you with my car strongly worded letter to follow.

--

Saren's heart twisted. Desolas had been furious at the suggestion, adamant Valis was just a rival sergeant... and yet there they were, so many years later, inseparable and practically codependent. But Nihlus was different, surely. Saren wasn't...

No, he really couldn't say that, could he? They slept together, they'd been through a thousand darkest hours together, there was nobody in the galaxy he'd consider a better friend.

And now he'd let Nihlus preen him, and cuddle him, and hold him in his sleep, like a bonded pair. And he'd enjoyed it.

He was in love with Nihlus Kryik.

Nihlus grumbled, and the hand shifted to his waist, trying to tug him back closer. His heart rolled over in his chest. Would it be so bad, to be in love with his best friend? Desolas seemed happy. Better than ever, even, since moving his brood to the Otoran countryside. I'm halfway out of the military, my family is safe, and Valis loves me, as he'd said the Solstice before when Saren had asked him if he was really content as a stay-at-home general. Ierian and Aediteia often boasted they'd been best friends before they "ruined their friendship" and started dating, and nobody in the galaxy would doubt how well they worked. And it was what all the old tales pushed, wasn't it – what better romantic interest than the friend already fighting alongside you? Turian literature practically overflowed with the idea. Maybe, maybe he could let himself be in love. Maybe it was only the natural end of things, after all this time.

But then, he wondered, did Nihlus love him back?

The arm curled, dragging Saren close enough Nihlus could push his face into the curve of his hip spur. Surely, surely he did. There was nothing unloving about the previous night's kiss, about how tenderly Nihlus had picked through his crest. Saren's hand found Nihlus's fringe and rested there of its own accord, his thumb-claw brushing delicately over the skin behind his mandible. The big menace was so quiet and peaceful in his sleep, the polar opposite of his waking self. Was this what his brother felt, he wondered, looking down at his wife before she woke? To look upon his friend at his most vulnerable and admire his beauty, his heart fluttering with the urge to let him stay so peaceful and content as long as they both drew breath?

Maybe he'd talk to Des before he did anything he'd regret. Or Valis herself, or Ierian, or any of their other friends who would understand. Maybe he should ruin their friendship.

[twstgabrielle]

EngIta Week 2022

Day 7: Music

Warning: Smoking, depression, somewhat unhealthy coping, alcohol, breakups, basically no happy ending, all around major feels town. (I'm so sorry-)

~~~~~

I don't want a friend (just me)~ I want my life in two (my life in two)~ Just one more night~ Waiting to get there~ Waiting for you (all night)~ I'm done fighting all night (waiting for you)~

The low neon lights flashed through the club, illuminating the party goers who resided inside. Tables filled with alcohol, cigarettes and other things sat in the pits where partying guests could take a break. Sitting at a table alone in the corner of the club was a handsome young man. His eyes were half lided, disinterested in the things going on around him. In front of him sat a glass of a half empty martini. An ash tray full of butts and ashes sat by his hand, awaiting for him to put in yet another butt of a smoked cigarette. It wasn't often that he was here in a shady club, smoking cigarettes and drinking. But tonight was one of those nights. Where his head would be filled with harsh whispers and poisonous words hissed. Where his mind would replay memories of a different time, a happier time when everything wasn't so fucked up. The man took a drag of his cigarette, the nicotine and smoke filling his lungs with a burning pleasure.

When I'm around slow dancing in the dark~ Don't follow me, you'll end up in my arms~ You have made up your mind~ I don't need no more signs~ Can you?~ Can you?~

As the burning filled him, he began to think. To drift back to a time that he desperately tried not to dwell on. Yet as always on nights like these, the memories slowly creeped in. The sounds of a shy laugh and a warm smile. Bright, brilliant green eyes that held the galaxy in them. Pale skin that shimmered in the pale moonlight in their shared bedroom. A gentle phantom touch that felt all too real. He scoffed, his chest tight and raw. It was painful thinking about how those memories haunted him. Then again anything involving these memories was always somewhat haunting. Like an unknown disease that slowly consumed you, leaving you with nothing but the echoes of something that once was. But the worst part of it was that he himself was responsible for the dull ache that seemed to follow him now.

After all it was him, Feliciano Vargas that ended up breaking Arthur Kirkland's heart.

It'd been a moment of weakness. An error that he didn't realize he was committing until he had already lost it all. Arthur and him had been together for a long time, the two of them having met at a club when they were in college. It was attraction at first sight but after meeting one another a few more times and getting to know one another it quickly became something so much more. Two young fools who recklessly jumped into a relationship without thinking it through. But at the time it hadn't mattered to them, as long as they had each other it was enough. Then one day Feli woke up and just.....stopped loving Arthur. No longer did he feel that rush he always felt, no longer did he feel that excitement, the passion and sparks that were there in the beginning. So he'd begun to distant himself, staying out late and not going out with Arthur much. For months it went on like this, with Arthur trying to remain patient and welcoming while Feliciano completely drifted away from him. But like most people Arthur had reached his breaking point. He could still remember that fight they'd had that night, the harsh and cutting words that were thrown at each other.

Until it had finally died when Feliciano said those two little words. The two little words that would at the time unknowingly ruin the Italian man.

"It's over."

He could still remember the look on Arthur's face. The pain in his eyes as the words fully processed. The tears and the heart broken expression he'd had before his face had become like stone. Arthur hadn't begged him to stay, to fight for them. Instead the Englishman just looked at him, his bright green eyes now dull and unrecognizable before going to their bedroom. It wasn't long before he'd came back downstairs, a small bag full of his essentials on his shoulder. Without even sparing Feli a glance Arthur had left the house, the only sign of him falling apart being the silent tears that flowed down his face. At the time Feliciano had no idea the mistake he'd made. Had no clue of just how much Arthur still meant to him. That he still loved him and was just too blind and foolish to see. But now after two years of separation between them and being haunted by his actions and trying to mend the heart he'd unknowingly torn to shreds Feli now knew the truth.

He had never stopped loving Arthur. And for these past two years that fact remained. It was only when he was finally gone that Feliciano realized just how much he truly loved him. Arthur Kirkland had become the one that got away, the one that Feliciano Vargas now knew was his one and only. The one that he could ever be with and ever want to be with. Feliciano gripped his now finished cigarette tightly, the memories slowly eating him from the inside out. His eyes burned as he felt the beginning of tears gather in them. The club seemed completely oblivious to the man who was falling apart at his table. Surrounded by the echoes of his past mistakes and his hallow memories.

Wiping at his eyes to stop the tears Feli grabbed his glass and tossed it back, practically inhaling the alcoholic beverage. Nearly slamming the glass down on the table he grabbed a few bills from his wallet and tossed them onto the table. Standing up he made his way towards the dancefloor, desperate to run away from the ghosts that plagued him. The loud bass of the speakers vibrated the floor, hot sweaty bodies pressed up against each other as they danced to the music. Feli eased himself in, joining the sea of people to try and forget because that was all he could really do at this point. As he swayed to the beat, getting lost amongst the bodies that surrounded him, his gaze caught sight of a familiar figure. Pale skin that glowed under the neon lights, messy golden blonde hair, and brilliant green hues.

It was Arthur.

Feliciano felt as if the world stopped, his blood freezing in his veins and his face paling as he stared at the face he'd never forget. The face that haunted him for two years, the face he hadn't seen since that night when he'd ruined everything. Feli sucked in a wheezing breath, suddenly feeling as if he was suffocating. Arthur hadn't seen him, instead he was dancing with someone. His body moved along with the stranger, pressing against him as they danced. It made Feliciano's blood boil seeing the sight. Even if he had no right to feel that way, it still showed its ugly head. He'd been staring for so long that it'd caught Arthur's attention. The Englishman turned his attention towards the prying eyes and stiffened when he saw Feli. It was as if someone had pulled a gun out and shot him, his already pale face going even paler. The two stared at the other, seemingly lost at what they should do.

Give me reasons we should be complete~ You should be with him, I can't compete~ You looked at me like I was someone else, oh well~ Can't you see? (Can't you see?)~ I don't wanna slow dance (I don't want to slow dance)~ In the dark~ Dark~!

After a moment of a tense stare down Arthur's attention was taken away from him by his dance partner. The man was holding onto Arthur's shoulder, a concerned look on his face as he seemed to lean down and speak with the short Brit. The Italian could only watch, the pain that had been tormenting the entire night becoming suddenly unbearable. The man held Arthur with such a tenderness, as if he was familiar with him. It made him feel like his heart was torn from his chest as he realized that Arthur may have moved on. Moved on to someone far better than Feliciano, to someone who wasn't as blind as he had been. And even though Feli wanted to scream and cry and beg for Arthur's forgiveness, he knew deep down that he didn't deserve it. Not after the way he'd treated him, not after shattering him and his fragile heart.

When you gotta run~ Just hear my voice in you (my voice in you)~ Shutting me out of you (shutting me out of you)~ Doing so great (so great, so great)~ You~ Used to be the one (used to be the one)~ To hold you when you fall~ Yeah, yeah, yeah (when you fall, when you fall)~ I don't fuck with your tone (I don't fuck with your tone)~ I don't wanna go home (I don't wanna go home)~ Can it be one night?~ Can you?~ Can you?~

There had been a time when Feliciano would have been the one in the stranger's position. A time when he would be the one who would comfort Arthur and hold him. A time when he had had Arthur by his side. But that time was no longer around. No in its place was the present moment and the bitter sting of seeing the one he loved seemingly moved on. The other man had wrapped an arm around Arthur, giving Feliciano more of a view of him. The man was taller than Arthur, with wheat blonde hair and bright blue eyes. A pair of glasses sat on his tanned face making him have a boyish like charm to him. Arthur had turned his head towards his partner, speaking into his ear. The man's blue hues then snapped towards Feliciano. A dawning look of realization came onto his face before he quickly but gently moved him and Arthur further away from Feliciano.

It became very clear that the man was most likely Arthur's newest boyfriend by the way he had acted at that moment. And it hurt so badly seeing it. But he couldn't blame Arthur, the Englishman had found someone who obviously treated him better than Feli had. And that alone was enough for the Italian. Not wanting to be on the dancefloor Feli made his way off of it. Once he was out of the sea of people he made his way towards the exit of the club. Stepping out into the chilly air Feliciano began to walk away from the club, leaving his heart behind him with every step. Life was a cruel mistress at times, leaving you broken and laying in a pit of despair and agony. It was a somewhat bitter joke for Feliciano. To realize too late that the one he had wanted and loved had moved on. He could still see the look on Arthur's face, the pain and the tension he had when they'd made eye contact. It was clear that although Arthur had moved on, the old wounds that were exchanged that night still lingered. Still stung him just as much as it did for Feliciano. But unlike Feli he'd forced himself forward. While Feliciano was stuck in the whispers of the past.

Give me reasons we should be complete~ You should be with him, I can't compete~ You looked at me like I was someone else, oh well~ Can't you see?~ I don't wanna slow dance (I don't want to slow dance)~ In the dark~ Dark~ In the dark~ Dark~!!

Perhaps in another life, he and Arthur had stayed together. Perhaps in another timeline they'd managed to avoid that fight. Perhaps another version of him wasn't as blind as he had been. Feliciano didn't know and he didn't dwell on it. It was already one of those nights and after the events he'd just been through he no longer wanted to be thinking about it. As he made his way home, his heart seemed to sing a heartbroken melody. A bitter and broken song at the world. The Italian was forever stuck in this loop, now forever dancing on his own. With no music or Arthur in sight.

All that reminded was him and his lonely, slow dancing in the dark.

*...........what have I done?????? To be honest I didn't mean to make this this sad. I was listening to Slow Dancing in the Dark by Joji and it got my brain going and with the prompt being music it just went from there. I highly recommend listening to the song to get the vibe I had while writing this. This fic is basically a lyric inspired piece. Since the prompt was music I decided to do this with it. I apologize in advance for the sad ending, it just seemed fitting for the music vibe I was trying to go for. And I also apologize for Feliciano for being OOC, but I wanted to go with him as the main POV. I personally don't see a lot of fics involving Feli being the one who messes up in the world of relationships. It's usually Arthur who's the one who screws up so I decided to switch it up. Also yes the person who's with Arthur is Alfred, whether it's platonic or romantic is up to the reader to decide. Anyways if any y'all read this I hope you enjoyed it!!! And here's the seventh prompt @engitaweek2022!!*

[n7inky-fanfics]

Lost

CW: Injury, blood, alcohol

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The crew of the Normandy loves Shepard. She is different than any other Commander in the Alliance. She took the time to deeply know every member of her crew. While her name may inspire equal admiration and fear in others, it inspires warmth and loyalty in her crew. Everyone trusts her with their lives, and even on her worst days they never fear her.

That being said, the ship is now uncomfortably quiet and tense. For the first time ever, the crew is walking on eggshells around Shepard. Her own shell has cracked, and to avoid vulnerability she is lashing out at pretty much anyone in her path.

When the shore party returned from Thessia, Shepard maintained silence and a cold demeanour until she had finished her call with the Asari Ambassador. She managed to use the last bit of her usual grace to comfort Liara. Then, she broke. She snapped at Joker and the two of them had it out on the bridge. The argument ended with both parties shaken, but it was clear that they would forgive each other once they had calmed down. The crew had never seen Shepard like this, and it worried them.

It's the end of the main dinner shift, and no one has seen Shepard for hours. James, Garrus, and Kaidan have done their best to reassure the crew. Now, Kaidan is making his way to Shepard's cabin with a dinner plate. He doesn't think she'll eat it, but he has to try. EDI informs him that Shepard's door is currently set to lock out everyone, including him. When he arrives outside the door, he knocks gently. "Hazel, it's me. Please let me in. I just want to help." The red glow of the locked door turns yellow and then green as it is unlocked. It slides open to reveal Shepard's room.

Broken glass and puddles of alcohol cover the floor. The desk chair is upside down in the middle of the floor. A large, bloody dent mars the wall. Shepard sits in the floor, on the right side of her bed, with her head hung low. She's wearing her Alliance t-shirt and a small pair of shorts. Her short, pink hair is a ruffled mess. Her right hand is bloodied and bruised. Pieces of glass from the alcohol bottles stick out of her knees and shins. Despite the strong presence of alcohol, she seems sober. She must have destroyed every bottle she had without drinking a drop.

Kaidan stands in the entrance. "Hazel, you're injured. We should really get you to the med-bay."

"No." Her voice is steady and cold.

"Can I at least get a kit and start getting that hand cleaned up?"

"No. Leave it."

Kaidan sighs deeply. "Fine, but I'm coming further in." She says nothing as he makes his way to the couch, careful to avoid the broken glass. He sits on the couch, hoping she might get off the floor and sit with him. Instead, she remains still. "Shepard, we're worried about you."

"Fuck..." she whispers.

"Hey, it's not your fault. It's Cerberus. You know that."

"Like hell it's not my fault!" She looks up at him, her eyes puffy, red, and furious. Dark energy begins to glow around her. "I should have anticipated this. Fucking Cerberus has their nose in everything. Of course they'd be there, and of course they'd try to use me to lead them to what they wanted. I was a fool and Thessia was lost for nothing! Now, everyone is screwed and we're all going to die because I couldn't get the damn job done!" Her biotics glow brighter, and the field around her swells.

"It's not over yet, Shepard. We'll find them, we'll get the VI back, and we'll end this for good." Kaidan says gently.

"Don't you get it, Kaidan? I failed! The whole galaxy is relying on me to save their asses again, and I failed! I can't do this! I can't save them!" Her voice is raw and strained. She clenches her fists and screams "Fuck!" A wave of dark energy shoots out from her in all directions. Kaidan throws up a barrier, protecting himself from the force of the blast and the bits of glass that flow with it. He can't help but be a little grateful that Cerberus equipped her room with reinforced glass. If they hadn't, the fish tank and model ship display would have exploded. The coffee table, which had flown towards him and bounced off his barrier, settles upside down in front of the bed. Shepard's eyes widen with shock and fear.

"I... I haven't lost control like that since... since I left the Reds... Kaidan, I'm so sorry." Her nose starts to bleed slightly, and tears begin to slide down her cheeks.

Kaidan makes his way to her and pulls her into a tight embrace, leaving just enough room to avoid brushing the glass still embedded in her legs. "It's okay, Hazel. I understand." He holds her close and gently strokes her hair. When she seems to have calmed down some, he pulls back just enough to look at her face while he wipes the tears from her cheeks. She's pale and shaking. Her nose bleed hasn't stopped. She must be exhausted. After all this and the battle on Thessia before, even the best biotic would be. When was the last time she ate?

"Hey, let's get you sitting down." He guides her to sit on the bed and retrieves the food he had brought for her from the couch. "Eat this while I get Dr. Chakwas up here to have a look at you."

"Kaidan, I don't want anyone else to see this." She looks around at the mess she made.

"It's either that or I carry you down to the med-bay. I think you'll collapse if I let you walk it yourself."

She sighs deeply. "Okay, bring her up here."

Kaidan activates the direct link to EDI from Shepard's terminal. "EDI, can you please ask Dr. Chakwas to come up here with the necessary equipment to support an exhausted biotic and remove shards of debris from a person? And please, keep this on a need-to-know basis."

EDI confirms the request and Dr. Chakwas arrives minutes later with a large medical kit in tow. If she's surprised by the state of Shepard's room, she doesn't show it. She follows the mostly cleared path that Kaidan has made with a broom from the supply closet in the bathroom. Shepard is slowly eating the dinner Kaidan brought. "I'm going to get you an IV with fluids and nutrients, then I'll take care of your legs." Dr. Chakwas says.

As Shepard recovers, Kaidan cleans the mess. By the time Dr. Chakwas has gotten all of the glass out of Hazel's leg, the glass has been safely disposed of, the alcohol has been mopped off the floor, and the furniture has been set back where it belongs. "Thank you, Karin. I'm sorry about all this."

"It's my pleasure, Commander. " Dr. Chakwas replies. She places a hand on Shepard's shoulder. "Take care of yourself, now. Remember that I'm here to help. Come see me if you need anything." She packs up her kit and leaves. The room falls silent. Shepard stares into her lap and Kaidan wonders what to say to help her.

Finally, he says "Hey, you should get some sleep." She nods, still looking at her lap. "Goodnight, Shepard." He kisses her forehead gently, then turns to leave.

"Wait..." Her voice comes out barely above a whisper.

"Do you want me to stay?"

"At least until I fall asleep. Please." She's still staring into her lap.

"Okay, Hazel." He says. He climbs into bed and gently guides her to lay next to him. She curls into him and he wraps his arms around her. She drifts off to sleep faster than he had expected. She must be so exhausted. He, too, falls asleep shortly after her.

In the morning, Kaidan awakes to an early alarm and an empty bed. He finds her in the war room, mulling over data for answers. He brings her a coffee before he starts his day. He's sitting in the observation deck, coffee in one hand and data pad in the other, when Dr. Chakwas comes in, locking the door behind herself.

"Kaidan, I'm glad you got me last night. How is she doing this morning?"

"She's back at work, trying to find a solution. She was up well before her alarm, I think. She's stressed, and I doubt she's okay, but she's functional. I'll keep an eye on her, try to make sure she takes care of herself."

"Yes, please do that..." Dr. Chakwas trails off and looks away from Kaidan.

"What is it, Karin?"

"Shepard has always had it rough. You and I both know this to be true. She's always hid her emotions and buried them deep. But dying... it broke her in ways I can't fix. In ways she hasn't recovered from. Then, she lost people. Good people. Hell, she lost Earth. Now she's lost Thessia as well. It's all piling up. She struggles, and I fear that she's reaching a point where all those bottled up pains will all spill out. When she does, we need to be there for her. Please, make sure you're there for her."

She doesn't say it, but Kaidan knows what she's thinking. Be there for her this time. Don't abandon her like you did on Horizon. Be there for her this time. He nods. "I've got her back, Karin."

"Good." Karin nods and takes her leave. Kaidan stares out the window and sighs deeply. This war won't be won without a great cost. He just hopes Shepard doesn't have to pay the bulk of it.

[notes-from-sarah]

Damaged Mirrors

Link on Archive of Our Own

Link on Fanfiction.net

Rating: G/K

Summary: While making his report about what happened on Umbara to Anakin, Rex has questions about his identity as a clone, his role as a soldier and his place in the galaxy. Set during Star Wars: The Clone Wars. One-shot. Canon compliant.

A/N: Set after Star Wars: The Clone Wars, Season 4, Episode 10 “The Carnage of Krell”

*****

Rex stood silently after making a full report of the events on Umbara to Anakin Skywalker. He knew the general pretty well and he could see that the Jedi was furious. Soldiers weren't supposed to be angry, but in all honesty, he felt the same way. So did all his men. He waited for his general to speak.

"That," Anakin struggled to find the right words, "that," his voice shook almost uncontrollably, "that monster intentionally tried to get clones killed on the battlefield?"

Rex tried to keep his voice at the even tone of any good soldier as he answered. "Yes sir, he confessed to it while many of us were present." Rex could hardly forget those words, they'd haunted him in the following days. The feeling of betrayal mixed with the absolute condescension from Krell sickened him. He focused on Anakin, he couldn't let himself dwell on what happened. A good soldier had to take the horrors of war in stride.

"And you had to execute him because you were afraid he would escape and join the Separatists?" Anakin clenched his fist, his eyes hard.

"We did, sir." Rex dropped his voice a little, it was only the two of them in this briefing room on Resolute and Rex wasn't sure how much longer he could talk about what happened in a crisp military manner.

"Good." Anakin's brow was furrowed, fury in every line of his face. Rex knew he meant it. Of all the people Rex had ever encountered in his short life, Anakin Skywalker was one of the most honest.

"Sir," Rex was anxious about what would happen next, everything he'd done, everything he'd ordered, was unprecedented. He couldn't shake the feeling that he'd committed treason on Umbara. Nothing they'd ever learnt in training had prepared him for this. "If I may ask, what will become of us, specifically Dogma? He may have pulled the trigger, but executing Krell was my order."

Anakin crossed his arms over his chest, his hands still clenched into fists. "I won't let Dogma face punishment for saving his fellow troopers from the enemy. And I won't let you or any of the 501st face disciplinary action because of Krell. He was a traitor and the Jedi council will understand that. If I would have been there I would have killed him myself."

Rex didn't doubt it. Unfortunately, Anakin hadn't been there. It was just the clones versus the Jedi. The whole ordeal had left him shaken in a way he couldn't have anticipated. The Jedi didn't seem as safe as they once did. The Jedi were supposed to fight side by side with the clones, not against them. He couldn't fathom how someone who was supernaturally connected to all life could so callously throw it away. Did the clones really mean that little to the Jedi? To others? He tried not to think about it.

Anakin came over to Rex and looked him square in the eye. "Tell me truthfully, Rex, are you okay?"

Rex looked up at Anakin. A good soldier was only ever supposed to have one answer. "I wasn't injured during the conflict, sir."

"That's not what I asked." Anakin's eyes narrowed. "Krell betrayed the Republic, betrayed the Jedi and most of all betrayed you clones. I should have been there, I should have stopped him. Now you've had to suffer because I wasn't there."

Rex swallowed. He didn't feel okay. He heard in Anakin's words the same refrain of self blame that had come to mark this particular Jedi's musings on the war. The general hadn't been built for war, it was hard on him and he seemed to think that he should be able to single-handedly change the tides of battle just by being present. Whenever he failed he buried himself with guilt over the matter.

Rex, on the other hand, had been built for war, it was all he'd known his entire life. He knew better than to let emotions come into play. It clouded your judgment and primed you to make big mistakes. He knew better than to feel guilty about doing his duty or for others doing theirs. Rex felt guilty now. He'd sent his men into certain danger because he unwittingly followed orders he knew were bad. He had turned against a Jedi, the command structure of the whole army, and had ordered that the besalisk be executed. He had failed to be a good soldier.

Rex tried to steel himself. He didn't want to show the general that he was weak. "I'll be fine, sir. You don't have to worry about me."

Anakin stared into his eyes with an almost frightening intensity. "Yes, I do."

A chill raced down Rex's spine. The general wasn't going to let him get away with evasive answers. "Honestly, sir," Rex paused for a long moment, "this whole ordeal has been," Rex's eyes darted away from Anakin's, he was ashamed to even admit it, good soldiers weren't weak. "It's been upsetting." Upsetting was just the tip of the iceberg, but he didn't know how to be more open.

"Rex, you did everything you could. You did everything right." Anakin's voice was hard as he tried to reassure his captain.

"Sir, if did everything right, why did so many end up dead?" Rex glanced back at Anakin. He was standing firmly on his emotions but he couldn't fully prevent them from leaking though all the same.

Anakin dropped his gaze. "I don't know. I don't know why it is that sometimes even when you do everything right it still all goes wrong."

Rex could clearly hear the emotion in the Jedi's voice. Emotion that he wished he could show himself. Good soldiers didn't break down in front of their generals. Good soldiers stayed strong. The Jedi had the luxury of being men and women first, then Jedi, and finally generals. The clones? They were first and foremost soldiers, tools, war machines. Sometimes Rex wondered if anyone realized they were flesh and blood.

Anakin turned away from Rex and looked out of the transparisteel window at the hyperspace sky. Hands behind his back he assumed the position he took when he was thinking deeply on some matter. "Rex," he said at last, "what do you think about what happened?"

"I gave you my report, sir." Rex wasn't sure what else the general wanted from him.

Anakin glanced over his shoulder at Rex. "And I heard the facts of the mission as you reported them. What do you think about what happened?"

Rex tightened his grip on the helmet that was tucked under his arm. He wasn't accustomed to giving out his unfiltered thoughts to non-clones. "I think that I should have broken protocol earlier." If he'd done what his gut told him a lot of lives could have been saved. "If I'd been more decisive I could have spared a lot of good men death and injury from a being," he put as much venom into the word being as he dared, "who saw us as disposable tools, no better than some flesh covered clankers."

Anakin closed his eyes at the comment. "Don't blame yourself, Rex, that's an order."

Rex guessed he must have been a bit too self-pitying in this conversation so far. He'd be mindful not to show such partiality again. Good soldiers were neutral.

Anakin opened his eyes again. "Blame Krell." Anakin's voice was hard as iron. "Krell is the only one at fault here. He tricked and manipulated you. He betrayed you. Don't hate yourself, hate him."

"Sir, my men are my responsibility. I didn't stop him." Rex knew he probably shouldn't be arguing with the general, but all the same he felt his failed duty very keenly.

"You and the 501st are good men, all of you brave and true. Krell tried to corrupt you, to poison you but he failed." Anakin gripped his hands behind his back. "I am lucky to fight by your side, Rex, you are one of the best men I've ever known. Don't let Krell win, don't blame yourself for what he did."

Rex ran his thumb over his helmet feeling the familiar ridges. "Do you really think that, sir?" It had been bugging him since Krell had gone on his tirade about the clones. "Do you really think of me, of us, as men?"

Anakin turned to face Rex fully, an expression of slight surprise on his face. "Of course I do. You're one of the bravest, smartest people I know. How could I think of you as anything else?"

Rex looked down at the floor. "Me and the others, we feel like we're men, feel like that means something. That we're more than just androids programmed for destruction. That's what we were taught on Kamino and that's how we live our lives every day, but out here," Rex gestured broadly to the room at large and metaphorically to the galaxy at large, "it seems that most beings don't think of us that way. I always thought the Jedi were different. It always seemed like they were until, well," Rex didn't finish his thought, he didn't have to. In the silence that followed he rubbed his other hand over his helmet feeling the various pits and dings.

Anakin stepped closer to Rex putting a firm hand on his shoulder. "The Jedi see your humanity, Rex. They see how the clones get up every day and fight this war with no relief. They see how you lay down your lives in pursuit of peace in the galaxy with no thought of your own reward. Out of all the people in the galaxy I think the clones and the Jedi are the most alike. Krell fooled us all, I should have seen his treachery before things ever got this far." Anakin shook his head. "But know this: Krell was not a Jedi. A real Jedi would never have done what he did. A real Jedi would never have betrayed the Council and the Republic and most of all his clones." Anakin gripped Rex's shoulder tighter and gave him a small, emphatic, shake. "We couldn't win this without you, Rex."

Rex couldn't help but feel moved by Anakin's words. Even after all the betrayal he'd faced at the hands of Krell, Anakin had his trust full and complete. He'd follow the general to hell and back if that's what he ordered. Maybe the Jedi and the clones did have a special sort of connection, maybe that's what made them such a good team on the battlefield. But what about off the battlefield? What about all those people in the galaxy who weren't Jedi? Would they ever be able to see beyond the face of a clone and realize it was the face of a man? When the war was over, what would happen to him?

"Sir," Rex hesitated, a good soldier shouldn't be asking questions like this, "do you think there's a future for us after the war?"

A long moment of silence stretched between them, Anakin seemingly lost in his thoughts. At last he shook himself slightly and seemed to come back to the present. His voice was low and uncertain as he said, "I hope so."