Chapter Text
Tension was thicker than Kamino’s storm clouds inside the white room.
It's got to be almost time now.
That feeling coated his body like the ever-present rainfall, unrelenting. Each muscle felt as if it were made stiff, forced to hold some position that long-trained limbs identified as foreign. That made little sense, he knew, because he had struck that “at attention” pose a million times before, in a million different training sessions. It was the same every time. Shoulders pulled back, arms behind his waist, gripping his elbow with the other hand, and feet together. Over and over, shaped by his instructors till the form was perfect, and would be perfect every time he struck it. No room for error, they would say, or he would end up a piss-poor soldier not worth a damn for the Republic. A good soldier had a good, solid stance, one that said he would listen and obey every order given till the instant of his death.
CT-7567 had made certain that morning that his stance was, in fact, correct, not a single limb jutting in a way it shouldn’t. Clones didn’t feel anxiety, because clones were made to handle great amounts of stress. This was his mantra, again and again inside his head till it became background noise, the sentences encoding themselves in his mind, just like every other thing that had been drilled in. Programmed, he corrected himself. Programmed from birth, repeated since the moment days later when he could speak. He deliberately denied the way his heart pounded in his chest, as if it needed to force the blood through every squeezed vein in his body.
Just nerves before battle, just kriffing nerves, except he wasn’t about to go to battle, and there wasn’t going to be any of the enemy’s forces blasting their way through the door to the tiny room.
Today, he was meeting his General, his Jedi. A Jedi, he corrected. Not his.
Nothin' about this belongs to me. I belong to the Republic, and I plan to stay loyal to that.
It was sort of a big deal, besides the fact that after the rotations spent preparing for just this moment, they were finally going to head out, to be used.
It would also be the first time CT-7567 saw a human, some other species, or whatever his – the, not his – Jedi ended up being. It wouldn’t be his face staring back at him, the face of his brothers, or one of the Kaminoans. It wouldn’t be the helmets of his teachers, either. A completely new element to look at, to react to. The occasion, however, was supposed to be grim, he reminded himself. War against the Republic had begun. CT-7567 should have been grateful of all those years when his services and the services of others weren’t needed, a period when clones were just things stuffed in the back of a closet, gathering dust and other particles with disuse. It was … odd, but the call to war made him feel more alive, more like a living, breathing existence rather than a glorified back-up strategy. It should, regardless, ignite feelings of dread with all the data the Kaminoans had forced in front of his eyes. The horrors of war, the horrors of being surrounded by the dead and the dying and the bright lasers color-coding the air. He wouldn’t feel the stress, they said. Clones weren’t made to feel it. They were only working to normalize for him what he would see. Neither thought was very comforting. His comfort was irrelevant, though.
CT-7567 knew it wouldn’t be white walls and clean halls, quirky droids hovering along that probably had too much personality for his unnoticed preferences. It would be different the moment his – the – Jedi stepped through that automatic door. He was prepared, three words that he told himself constantly. A private swear that he would have carved into the inside of his skull if he could.
I'll remain loyal, no matter what. The General won't regret havin' me. I'll do good.
CC-2224 told him he over-thought things. CT-7567 had only stiffly replied that the idea of over-thinking was very damn stupid. He had to think a lot to be prepared.
He wondered idly if any of the others had already met their generals. Did Jedi normally take this long? Was this the usual procedure? His fingers pressed into the elbow that he had cradled against his palm, willing the slight shake in his hands to cease immediately. Never again would his hands shake - another sworn vow to himself.
There was a low swish, and CT-7567 realized, as his spine perked straighter, that the door had opened. Kriffing finally.
Nothing running through his head gave him any damn idea what to expect, or what he was really preparing for. He knew what various species looked like from computer files and studies. It would be a completely different thing to see them in person. His chest shuddered with a slow exhale and inhale, eyes fixated on the opening of the little hallway that led from the door. There was the soft thud of footsteps, then a figure that stepped out, dark fabrics contrasting with the white walls, and CT-7567’s own white, crisp armor.
It was a man – a human male, with short, cropped brown hair that looked like it was in the midst of an effort to be grown out. It sort of reminded him of his own dark hair, though his was buzzed a lot shorter than the guy in front of him. A mischievous face, CT-7567 couldn’t help but notice. The kind of expression he would see on some of his more trouble-prone brothers, but at the same time, nothing like them at all. Grown, he figured, but somehow still young. Bright, blue eyes. Not the same kind of blue as the dull, murky color of Kamino’s waters, and not quite the same shade of blue that adorned several bits of his armor, or his shoulder piece.
They were blue like what CT-7567 imagined a blue sky might look like – clear, fresh, startling. Not a single damn cloud in sight.
Huh. Never seen blue eyes before.
Those eyes were on him now. The man was grinning, head tilting just a bit towards the right.
“So,” the Jedi began. Grown, but definitely young, judging by that voice. It seemed to CT-7567, or as much as he could tell from determinedly staring straight ahead while at attention, that the other was giving him a once-over, even starting to circle him. CT-7567 felt like a sea-mouse being circled by an eel. He was prey. The Jedi finished his sentence as he made his way around. “You’re my clone, huh?”
That seemed to warrant an answer, and CT-7567 cleared his throat before doing so. “Yes, sir. Your Captain, sir.”
This made the other smirk for reasons CT-7567 didn’t seem to catch. “I’ve got’a admit, I do like the sound of that,” he mused. Then, speaking as if he suddenly remembered something, he added, “I’m Anakin. Anakin Skywalker.”
General Anakin Skywalker.
“It’s an honor to meet you, General Skywalker.”
Silence stretched on. As to why, CT-7567 didn’t know, but it gave his heart a moment to cease the overly rapid pace it was beating at against his ribs, and for him to assess the new feelings in the room. It's what he was trained to do. He had read about the Force, too, not that he knew exactly what Jedi could do with it, or what the Force really had to do with them. That was all vague footnotes at the bottom of reports read in the dim light of his sleeping tube. There was a feeling in the space that was different from before, though. It was as if the air had become a little thicker, a little calmer. Thick, but light. Clear. Similar, he thought, to taking in a breath of air after walking inside from the rain. He decided he didn’t mind it. CT-7567's shoulders loosened some, collar-bones shifting underneath the clean plates of armor.
The General spoke up again, still striding around at an easy pace. “So, what, am I just going to call you ‘Captain’?” he asked, in an amused tone that didn’t register with CT-7567. He answered it with his same steady seriousness.
“Captain CT-7567, sir.”
The Jedi’s brows furrowed. “That’s just a number.”
“Yes, sir.”
Skywalker crossed his arms over his chest. “Well, I was hoping to get a name.”
“ … name, sir?”
What did he mean by that?
Skywalker had made a complete circle now, and stood in front of CT-7567. “Yeah, you know – something that’s not a number. Clones have names, right?”
A burst of confusion came like an exploding star inside his head. He didn’t exactly like the sensation, not in the least. Was this something he should have picked out before this briefing? He didn’t understand how he could have missed this – it hadn’t been in any manual or the instructions he had received. It was nothing the Kaminoans or his teachers had explained to him that he needed. He had his designation, his number, and that was it. He must have missed something. He must have messed the whole kriffing thing up somewhere.
Skywalker suddenly spoke, holding his hands up in a sort of surrendering motion with a shrug of his shoulders. “Hey, hey, calm down. It’s alright if you don’t. No need to get tense about it.”
CT-7567 realized, in that instant, one of the Jedi’s abilities. He must be able to sense emotions. It only made sense. CT-7567 worked very hard to never let any inner feelings show on his face. It rarely showed anything other than its default. Tight-lipped, jaw taut, eyes alert. The face of a proper trooper. It was more than a little humiliating to think the Jedi had probably felt the tension the moment he stepped into the room. If he had been any less of a soldier, he might have blushed.
Not even sure if that'd be worse.
Skywalker was grinning again, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. “So … you don’t have a name?”
CT-7567 had enough sense to answer this time, and quickly berated himself for not doing so before. “No, sir. I, ah … do not.”
“Well, that won’t do,” Skywalker decided, eyes drifting to the ceiling. He seemed to be thinking. About what, CT-7567 didn’t have a damn clue. Was he going to be reprimanded? That wouldn’t look good. He might be re-purposed to cleaning and sanitation duty if he was already kriffing up. Still, he held his straight posture, eyes staring forward till they settled on watching the way Skywalker’s lips pressed together, and the thoughtful hum that left them.
“I’ve got it!” the Jedi suddenly announced, snapping his fingers. He then pointed his index at the clone’s chest, causing CT-7567 to blink. “Rex. Rex seems like a good name for you.”
“ … Rex, sir?”
“Yeah. You know, Rex, meaning kingly - a noble king, or something. You seem like a kingly kind of guy. That stiff way you’re standing reminds me of all the statues at the temple.” A pause to laugh, grinning and flashing white teeth. This seemed more sheepish than impish, but CT-7567 couldn’t say he was good at telling those kinds of things apart. “Don’t have to have it if you don’t like it. I know it’s kind of sudden. Spur-of-the-moment, I guess. I’m a spur-of-the-moment kind of guy.”
CT-7567 found himself unsure how to answer. His lips parted, but then they pursed instead of speaking. A name? Did that comply with protocol? Skywalker had to know what he was doing. The Jedi was his General.
“ … Rex,” he repeated slowly, brows furrowing. A spark lit deep within the pit of his stomach. It was … nice, he realized. He liked it.
“Rex,” Skywalker agreed, looking at him closely. Rex realized he kind of liked hearing Skywalker say it. A lot, really, but he wouldn’t let himself acknowledge that.
Not too shabby.
“If it’s to your liking, sir,” he finally answered, spoken carefully as if he was diffusing a bomb with each syllable. He wasn’t sure how to accept what was definitely an honor. It had to be an honor to be named, of all things, after only a few minutes.
Skywalker smiled broadly at him, holding out a hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Captain Rex.”
Rex’s eyes lowered to the limb, eyeing it before he brought one of his own from out behind his back. Skywalker immediately reached forward to grip his forearm, giving it a squeeze. Rex adjusted his wrist to do the same, gaze darting back up to the Jedi’s face. A warmth made its way down every nerve-ending in his body, like his blacks had suddenly become heated beneath his armor. His broad lips parted just slightly.
This was it. His Jedi.
Maybe it was the Force, or some damn other thing messing with his head, but that thought seemed to wipe clean the rest of his coherent thinking. It took a good second or two before he found the right words to respond with.
“A … pleasure to meet you, General Skywalker.” His tone was lighter than usual. Rex didn't really remember ever sounding like that.
Skywalker’s grin was playful again, observing him curiously. “Smiling looks good on you, Rex.”
Rex blinked, quickly lowering the corners of his mouth as Skywalker chuckled.
He hadn’t even realized he was.