Chapter Text
When Fives opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was a black metal wall. For a moment, he wondered if he was back in the barracks on a 501st Venator. It was only after he rolled over that he realized how wrong he was.
Handcuffs dug into his wrists behind his back. The wall opposite the ledge he was lying on had a ray-shielded door. His armor had been stripped off his flight suit, along with all his hidden weapons. Thankfully, he still had his boots.
Fives passed his arms under his legs to reposition his hands in front of him, then he propped his foot up on his knee. He ran a finger under the bridge of his boot. He felt the small square cutout, pushing it a few times to ensure it was still down. He was still transmitting.
Thankfully, Echo was in the cell across from him, though still asleep. What had caused them to pass out in the first place? He knew from a second-hand story that it would have taken enough tranq to take out a bantha or two before it had any effect on him, and he would have known if they poked him with something. Not only that, but they managed to pull it off twice : once when they were stuck in the street and again when they were on the shuttle.
A stormtrooper passed by their cells. Fives quickly got to his feet and approached the door.
“Hey, you got something to eat? I’m starving in here,” Fives half-shouted at the trooper. He leaned against one of the walls and narrowed his eyes. The trooper ignored him.
“I’m talking to you, stormie.”
The stormtrooper stopped to turn and look back at him, but then suddenly snapped to attention at the sound of a door opening somewhere nearby. Fives could tell by the sounds of breathing and the number of footsteps that four people were approaching. Two were wearing helmets, but not normal stormtrooper helmets.
The stormtrooper stepped to the side to allow two death troopers, one woman in an Imperial uniform, and a second woman wearing some sort of black armor to pass by. They stopped at Fives’ cell.
The Imperial officer was a dark-skinned human with her brown hair tied tightly into a bun. She held a data pad and hardly paid any attention to Fives. Her uniform stated she was a scientist. The second woman, also human, was very pale. Her dark hair was also tied into a bun, but much looser. Unlike the officer, she stared into Fives’ eyes as if she was peering into his soul. He didn’t break eye contact. He immediately noticed how distinctly yellow hers were.
The two stared at each other like two tookas seconds away from tearing each other apart, only they were separated by a ray shield. They stopped as soon as the officer began speaking.
“Are you Cee-tee Twenty-seven dash Fifty-five Fifty-five?” the officer asked.
“I’m starting to hate that number,” Fives grumbled.
“It’s him, he’s just too stubborn to admit it,” the one in armor said. “And there is no doubt that the other is Cee-tee Fourteen Zero Nine.”
“We have names, chakaare,” Fives commented, sitting back down on the ledge he was previously sleeping on. He lay down with his hands behind his head and closed his eyes.
“You’re a nexu in a cage, clone,” she continued. The officer stepped back as she stepped forward. “You can say what you like, but you know you’re powerless. Under that confident façade, you’re terrified. Terrified of how you got here. Terrified of what we’re going to do. Maybe you aren’t worried about yourself, but I know you’re worried about your brother.”
Fives opened one eye, then slowly slipped off the ledge. He approached the shield until his face was only a few centimeters from the Imperial’s.
“Lay a hand on Echo and I promise, there is nowhere in this galaxy you will be able to hide.”
“We’ll see,” she hissed.
The ray shield suddenly disappeared, and for half a second, Fives debated making a break for it. However, before he could act, he felt his body stiffen unnaturally. He attempted to raise a finger, but he was unable. It seemed all he could do was breathe and blink.
Dar’jetii , he thought as he watched the armored woman raise her hand. She appeared deeply concentrated.
“Be quick about it. He’s resisting,” she warned as the officer shuffled inside the cell with the two death troopers sticking close behind her.
“I would prefer him unconscious,” the officer stated as she drew a hypo-syringe from the bag on her hip. “I don’t want him slipping while I’m drawing his blood.”
Fives was not paying attention to her, though. As the armored woman nodded and moved her hand only slightly and as Fives slipped out of consciousness, only then he noticed the Inquisitor saber hanging from her belt.
“Where did you get your armor from?” Din asked as he cleaned the barrel of one of his blasters.
He and Rex sat on crates inside the palace entrance. The large room was empty for the most part, which made it the perfect place for preparing for an assault.
“Some old friends gave it to me and my boys after the war ended. They wanted us to be protected in a galaxy where clone armor would mark us as enemies. After that, we were welcomed into their House,” Rex replied.
Rex clipped a strange silver object to his belt. It sat right on top of his kama and sparkled in the sunlight streaming in through the open door. The object was long and cylindrical, donning a leather wrap around the center.
“What’s that?” Din set down his blaster and pointed at the object.
“Oh, this?” Rex unclipped it and spun it around in his hand for a moment before pressing a button. A bright orange blade hummed to life out of the end. “It used to be a greenish-yellow, but I guess over the years, it’s gotten used to me…”
“… Did you kill a Jedi for that?” Din asked. He felt his heart beat faster, even more after he realized Grogu was nowhere in sight. Although, to his relief, Rex looked as horrified at the question as he felt just having to ask it.
“No, no. I’ve only ever had to kill one Jedi, although I’m not sure he was even considered a Jedi by that point,” Rex replied as he deactivated the blade. Din felt a rush of comfort. “This belonged to an old friend who passed away before we deserted from the army.”
“Oh, I’m… sorry for your loss.”
“It’s alright. We’ve all had time to mourn. She’s been gone for almost thirty years now.” Rex grew quiet. “Nu kyr’adyc, shi taab echaaj’la.”
“Nu kyr’adyc, shi taab echaaj’la,” Din repeated. It was refreshing to hear some Mando’a . The last time he heard anyone speak the language was the day he was kicked out of his covert. He still did not fully regret it.
Din began packing away his cleaning kit. “Do you know why your sons were taken by the Empire?” he asked, recalling when a similar team helped him rescue Grogu not so long ago. “It would help to have a little information backing us up. We could get an idea of what we’re dealing with.”
Rex was quiet again, staring out the open door. He seemed conflicted. He glanced back at Din for a moment, almost as if he was checking something. Maybe he thought he couldn’t be trusted, but Rex spoke anyway.
“Our DNA is extremely dangerous. Not Fett’s, but ours was contaminated by a virus or disease of some kind. It’s the reason we look so young,” Rex began as he started dismantling one of his hand blasters. “Most clones could handle it without any negative effects since our immune systems were enhanced at birth, but for anyone else, a pinprick of our DNA in their blood would make them lose their minds.”
Din only then realized that Rex hadn’t taken off his gloves to work. For him, it was expected, since showing any skin was frowned upon in his covert. However, for anyone outside, it would have been easier to get into the gaps without gloves on. Rex must have been worried about cutting himself and bleeding onto something. Maybe he wasn’t worried about trusting him, but rather wondering if he would be afraid to be around a walking biohazard.
“They could be trying to weaponize the effects, which is just one more reason to get them back.” Rex looked haunted. “I’ve seen first-hand what one infected person can do in a night. There were a lot of body bags and occupied hospital beds the next morning. If they use my ade to make more of them…”
“So, whose ship are we using?” Boba emerged from a doorway carrying Grogu in one arm. “We can’t use mine. The Imperials will be firing at it immediately after that stunt we pulled last time.”
“I would offer up my starfighter, but it only has room for one,” Din replied.
“We can’t use our freighter. The three of us stirred up quite a bit of trouble when we were with the Rebellion. They’ll recognize it,” Rex added.
“Then we don’t have a ship,” Boba stated. He handed Grogu off to Din. “No ship, no rescue.”
Din heard Rex suck in a breath. He would have felt the same if he was told the same thing. Grogu cooed and looked up into his visor with his giant eyes.
“I might know a person,” Rex said quietly.
Whoever Din was expecting to appear on the holo wasn’t Bo-Katan Kryze. Did all Mandalorians know each other?
“Kryze,” Rex said flatly. Even with his helmet now on, Din could tell the clone wasn’t enjoying himself.
“Commander,” Bo-Katan replied. Both were staring at each other through the visors of their helmets. Neither seemed to want to see the other. Subtle shifting, tone of voice, the unfamiliarity in the way they addressed each other. Din had been unintentionally trained to notice details without facial expressions.
“I’m not military anymore, Kryze. I’m just Rex now,” he replied.
The small room was quiet again. The blue glow of the hologram and the gentle humming of the receiver were the only things filling the silence, besides the three Mandalorians in the room and the fourth in the form of a hologram.
“What do you want?” she finally asked, crossing her arms.
“I’m calling in my favor. I need to borrow a ship.”
“Something tells me it’s more than that if those two are with you. A bounty hunter and a cultist? You must be desperate, especially if you’re coming to me as well.”
“We didn’t call you for a chat, Princess ,” Boba cut in. “Are you lending us a ship or not?”
“If I’m lending out one of my ships, I want to know where it’s going. I want it back in one piece. We’re already shorthanded as it is.”
“You didn’t really seem to care where you were sending us ,” Rex took a step forward. “I don’t owe you an explanation, but you owe me a favor.”
Rex seemed to have struck a nerve. Bo-Katan was quiet. She turned her head to the side and clenched her fists.
“… We really need that ship,” Din spoke up.
Somehow, the gentle comment seemed to anger her further. She let out a huff, turned her head back towards Din for only a moment, then turned her head away again.
“Fine. I’ll deliver a Kom’rk -class to your location within the next rotation.” Bo-Katan took a final glance down at Din’s belt. “Mand’alor.” Her hologram disappeared a split second later.