#captrain rex

[vytels]

I’ve been pondering the difference between the 501st and the 212th. Here is my argument:

The 212th are German Shepherds

The 501st are Belgian Malinois

I rest my case

[vytels]

Some more stuff from the Rex Raises Luke AU... this time featuring Echo!!

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Scene #3

“Do you see Anakin in him?” Echo stepped through the doorway, a box tucked under his other arm. 

Rex took a breath at the question, before stepping into the room and cradling the sleeping infant closer to him. Warm settled on his chest as the baby squirmed in his arms, pressing a small face into his plastoid armor and drooling across it. He gazed at the spectacle for a moment before looking up at his vod. 

“Sometimes I do, but sometimes I see Padme,” Rex replied. 

Echo’s head turned to him, his brown eyes jumping up and then down. They landed on the child nestled into his arms, staring and memorizing. 

Then he nodded and smirked, whispering, “Yeah, I can see her too.”

Scene #9

As Nemec and Fireball’s form retreated back to their own ship, laughter broke between them. Rex stepped onto the ramp of his ship, only glancing back to see if Echo was following or not. The gray armored clone looked back toward the pair, watching them for a moment, before turning and nodding to Rex. He followed him up the ramp and into the ship, waiting as it shut. 

Then he turned to Rex and angled his head, the curious expression coming through his helmet. 

“You told me you had three people for me to meet,” Echo said. 

Rex smirked. “Right, well, follow me.” 

After being pulled from sleep the first few nights, Rex had rearranged the storage-bed rooms. He hoped eventually that he could clear them out entirely, turn them into actual bedrooms, but they would work for now. He moved only a few things to his room, mostly a few storage crates to use as desk space and the things that Obi-Wan had left behind. 

As he stepped into the room, he gestured to Echo with a finger to his lips. His brother nodded and his footfalls became quieter, his shoulders rising as he looked deeper into the room. 

Next to his makeshift bed, Luke’s small bin sat. It had been positioned snuggly between crates, out of sight of the door, but well within arms reach during the night. Small huffs came from it now, verging on the range of snores, growing louder as Rex moved closer. 

Soon he was able to see the bundled baby, fast asleep and succumbed to the confines of his swaddle. Carefully, Rex reached in and picked up Luke. He folded him into his arms and rested him against his chest, cradling his head and turned back toward Echo. 

His brother had stopped halfway through the room, his helmet rising and swiveling as he took in the bundle. Then he raised his hands and pulled his helmet off, revealing the surprise that was painted across his face. 

“You didn’t tell me that you had an ad,” Echo whispered. 

Rex chuckled, “Echo, meet Luke Skywalker.” 

“Skywalker?” Echo’s head snapped back down, his eyes locking onto Luke. “The general had a kid?” 

“Yeah, it’s a long story.” Rex looked down, catching the moment that Luke’s eyes blinked open and the light caught them. Blue dazzled for a moment, before they squeezed shut again and his jaw opened, a small yawn releasing. 

“He’s tiny.” 

“Surprises me too.” 

Luke’s jaw worked open again, air puffing through as he yawned, but his eyes slid to the side and his face scrunched up. Confusion flickered across his cheeks and eyes, causing a rumble to fill Rex’s chest. 

“Lu’ika,” Rex whispered, “this is Echo, your ba’vodu.” 

Echo’s gaze swept up again, eyes widening for a moment, before a smile overcame his face and he looked back down at Luke. He stepped closer and raised his hand, slowly resting it on top of Luke’s head. 

“Yeah, ad’ika,” Echo whispered, “I’m here for you.”

[vytels]

Reposting this with grammar and spelling fixed because it was bothering me. For context, this was posted based on an incorrect quote post. The original post is linked here.

Just needed to write a little something based on this that made my brain go wirrr

TW: self-depreciation, thoughts about death/suicide, overall general horrible feelings…. Basically, Fox NOT having a good time… Also, typos, cause I’m writing this at the ass crack of night and I’m supposed to be SLEEPING

Sloshes of cocktails and condensation fell to the floor, beers clinked together in toasts and cheers, but yet, it wasn’t as busy at 79’s as it usually was. Parties of clones crowded together in respected booths, a few stragglers slipping onto the dance floor to get a feel for a pretty lady or man. The music buzzed between them and the lights clung brightly to the walls, unimpeded by bodies or howling voices.

Fox didn’t care for 79’s much anyway. Besides the rapid amount of headaches and groans that it brought him, he found himself seeing it as only a small connection to his brothers on the frontlines. It provided him a face-to-face that holocalls couldn’t achieve, although only once every few months.

“Are your boys treating you well, Rex?” Ponds’ elbow shoved into Fox’s side as the man craned his head forward.

The blond trooper turned to them and a smile appeared at the edge of his lips, his shoulders slumping toward the table as he leaned in. “They weren’t too bad this time around, I think they might be settling down.”

“Don’t jinx it, vod’ika,” Cody warned, “Your men don’t know the meaning of settling. You told me they tried to make a water slide in the docking hangar of the Resolute a month ago.”

“Eh, they’re just bored,” Wolffe said, “the 501st moves around more than anyone else does, they have more time between missions to get stuck in their heads.”

“They do deal with it interestingly then,” Rex grumbled.

Fox couldn’t help but agree, though his eyes lingered across his vod’ika’s form. There was a mirth in the man’s eyes, a fondness in his smile, and a softening in his brows. The Captain cared deeply for his men, for his own vod’ika, despite the trouble they put him through. There was always a story on his mind about Fives and Echo, or a joke that heard from Jesse, or an incident from Hardcase.

There was something there that struck Fox, something that clung deep at his chest, in a way that almost made him gasp. Somehow, it was overwhelming.

“Well,” Fox said, “Have the Terrible Torrents come up with anything more recently to deal with this boredom?”

A smile widened across Rex’s face. “They came up with a game, based on a natborn game.”

“Oh, this ought to be good.” Bly leaned in. “What is it?”

“It’s based on kiss, marry, kill,” Rex explained, “which is a game where you name three people and then choose who you’d kiss, marry, or kill from the three.”

Cody nodded, raising an eyebrow. “How’d they change that then?”

Rex snickered. “They ran out of people they knew until it was only vod that they knew… so you know, they just changed the wording. Turned it into keldabe, vod pile partner, and kill.”

“Not as easy to say,” Ponds muttered with a look of disdain, “But I can’t imagine marrying or kissing a vod.”

Bly gave him a look. “Isn’t a keldabe a kiss?”

“It can be familial and you know it,” Ponds retorted, “You literally shove your forehead against any of ours the moment you get the chance!”

“Guilty,” Bly conceded.

Wolffe hummed. “Well, are we going to play it?”

“I’m interested,” Cody added, “It sounds like fun.”

Rex smirked as his ori’vode turned to him and let them throw him through the rounds of the game, pulling on all vod they knew from across the Galaxy. Putting Neyo against Gree, pushing Thorn against Keeli and Kix, throwing Crys with Waxer and Boil, laughing as he offered up Hardcase, Wrecker, and Fives, and smirking when he mentioned Alpha-17, Colt, and Fordo.

“You know that’s not fair,” Cody said immediately. “All of us would snatch up 17 for a pile partner before the others.”

“Then who are you killing?” Rex challenged. “Colt or Fordo?”

“Colt, at least I’d have a chance at winning.” Bly took a swig of his drink.

Wolffe shook his head. “I bet I could take out Fordo, besides he hates me.”

“That’s because you bit him.”

“So did Fox!”

Fox smirked. “He deserved it. I’m going with Fordo too.”

“You two are horrible.” Cody frowned. “I’ll kill Colt.”

“Agreed,” Ponds said.

“Alright, alright… last one?” Rex asked.

“Hit us with your best shot,” Wolffe growled at him.

Rex looked over them for a moment, thoughts whirling behind his eyes before a smirk covered his face. He leaned closer as he spoke, his voice punctuating the names.

“Me, Wolffe, Fox. The vod’ike.”

“Oh, well, I’m killing Fox.” Bly leaned back immediately.

Fox’s head snapped to his ori’vod, a glare pulling at his eyes but he kept his face level as Ponds snorted next to him.

“I think I have to agree with that,” Ponds said, “But I’m vod piling with Rex.”

“Not me?” Wolffe growled immediately.

But Fox didn’t hear the rest of the argument, not as his eyes slid to the orange-colored commander next to him. Cody stroked his chin, a horrible habit he had gained from his general, and stared toward the ceiling. Gears seemed to come to life in his head as he thought before his hand dropped away and slapped against the table.

Everyone’s heads snapped to him, the argument between Wolffe and Ponds fading to the side as the oldest of their batch smirked.

“I figured it out.” Cody nodded. “Kill Fox, keldabe Wolffe, and vod pile with Rex.”

Despite the sting in his chest, the tightening at the back of his throat, Fox slipped under his mask. A smirk played across his lips and he leaned back against the booth, eyes flickering across all his brothers.

“Yeah, I’d kill me too.” Fox waved a hand, ignoring the churning in his stomach. “I’ll vod pile with you, Wolffe.”

Wolffe smirked, before immediately turning to Ponds. “See? Even Fox wants to vod pile with me!”

The argument between them grew again, but it felt like a buzzing at Fox’s ears as he reached back to grab his drink. He knocked back, trying to get rid of the pain pounding in his ribs and gut, trying to loosen the tightening of his throat.

His batchmates had pointed to kill him off, not even bothering to argue against it in any form. It flipped his stomach, even if it was just a game. A meaningless game, but yet it drove a stake through his heart.

But he understood it too, he really did.

Fox wasn’t like his batchmates. He didn’t fight on the front lines, he didn’t put his life on the line for his brothers staring down a battlefield filled with droids, and he certainly didn’t wear his heart on his sleeve like they did.

But more than that, he didn’t really deserve to be the one receiving a keldabe, or being trusted as a pile partner. He wasn’t as good of a commander as he should be, he didn’t save the lives of his men as much as his batchmates did, and he most certainly couldn’t explain the blood that he’d find on his hands when he woke up in the morning.

His batchmates were good men, and he knew he wasn’t.

It seemed like they knew it too.

The night ended shortly after that. His batchmates huddled together as they wobbled back to the GAR barracks, doing their best to make themselves look like a cohesive group of competent men. And they pulled it off well too, despite the tiredness that dragged at them and the drunken tilts of their vision.

But Fox walked another way, back to the headquarters of the Coruscant Guard, back to his tiny office with a desk overflowing with datapads and flimsiwork.

He sat at his desk, thought of the way his vode had pointed at him, and wondered if the pills stashed in the back of his drawer were worth it.