Rex - Blog Posts

Sneak peek at the next thing on my to-do list

Shortly after the mission to the Citadel, Rex, Fives, and Jesse stumble across an artifact that permanently changes Rex. With his newfound abilities, he must navigate the war as it draws to a close...

There was a stone in his boot. Rex glared down at his feet as if that would make the stone leave, but it was still irritatingly there. It was small, of course, just barely big enough for him to feel it, but it was right on the arch of his foot, where it was most tender. Chalking up a blister before it even formed, he sighed, readjusting his hold on his blaster pistols. Jesse looked over at him. “Chin up, Captain, just because we haven’t found anything yet doesn’t mean there’s nothing to find.” “I think we’re supposed to want there to be nothing to find,” Fives grumbled, kicking a clump of grass as the walked through the narrow canyon that led out toward the grasslands from the small abandoned settlement the rest of the 501st had set up camp in. “Looking for a Seppie base, remember?” “I remember,” Jesse said, nudging Fives with his elbow, “Just like I remember you leaping at the chance to go exploring.”

“That was before I knew that ‘exploring’ just meant wandering down a straight path,” Fives shot back.

Ordinarily, Rex would have scolded Fives for his tone, but as it was, it had been less than a month since he’d lost his ori’vod, Echo, so he cut him some slack. Gesturing with his pistol, he ushered the other two troopers down the canyon, scanning the walls as he did.

It was only because of that that he noticed the small crack in the wall, just large enough for someone to squeeze through. “Fives, Jesse,” he called, drawing their attention before carefully making his way through the crack.

As the other two followed, he took the opportunity to look around the tunnel the crack had led into. It didn’t look naturally created, the walls rough and uneven in a way that made him think it had been carved out by the local fauna, but the ceilings were tall, stretching above his head and making him feel small. Some sort of bioluminescent fungus grew on the walls, giving the place a dim lighting. Squaring his shoulders, he flicked on his headlamp anyway, not wanting to stumble over anything in the low light.

Fives and Jesse managed to get into the tunnel behind him, and Rex gestured for them to start making their way through the cave. Rex led the way, the others’ headlamps bouncing off the walls as they looked around.

The tunnel meandered for some distance. Right as Rex was about to call a halt so he could finally get the stupid rock out of his boot, they rounded a corner and Rex sucked in a breath. In the middle of the small cavern they found themselves in was what looked like an altar of some sort, lit by sunlight filtering through an overgrown hole in the ceiling.

Floating above the table was something Rex had only seen once before. Jesse seemed to recognize it as well, as he straightened. “Is that a Jedi holocron, sir?”

“It looks like.” Rex glanced around the chamber, noting some smashed pottery in the corners and faded flecks of paint on the walls. “This looks Jedi enough, must have been a meditation spot or something.”

“Should we comm the general, sir?” Fives asked, looking worried. He hadn’t been with the 501st during the original Jedi holocron incident, but he’d heard stories, and Rex thought he was right to be afraid. Force only knew what the Seppies could have done with this if they’d learned it was here.

Rex nodded. “Might as well try. I’ve no clue if the signal will get out, but with the hole in the ceiling, it’s worth a shot.”

Fives nodded and stepped forward, activating his comm. “This is ARC trooper Fives, calling forward camp. Do you read me?” Static over the line, and Fives cursed before trying again.

This time, someone answered. “Fives, we read you,” General Skywalker’s voice sounded tinny and was layered with static, but it was there. “What’s the situation?”

“We’ve, uh, discovered a Jedi artifact in a cave, sir.”

Skywalker sounded surprised. “A what? Nevermind, how do you know it’s Jedi?”

“Well, it’s floating in midair, sir, and I’m not detecting any magnetic field holding it up,” Fives said, a hint of sass in his voice, and Rex, removing his helmet, shot him a look.

It didn’t sound like Skywalker minded. “Okay, okay. Does it look dangerous?”

“No, sir. It’s just floating there.”

Jesse made to touch it, and Rex grabbed his arm, holding him back. “Not till the general says to,” he said in an undertone, and Jesse nodded.

“Bring it back to base,” Skywalker was saying, “But be careful. There’s no telling how long it’s been there, and what defenses it could have. I don’t want you boys getting buried if the cave collapses.”

“Copy that, sir. Fives out.” Fives cut the connection and turned to Rex. “Well, sir, I think it’d be best we got out of here.”

Rex nodded, then reached out. What happened next happened in a blur. His fingertips brushed the holocron, and the hair on the back of his neck stood up, right before pain like he’d never known ripped through him. He was vaguely aware that he screamed, but he wasn’t aware enough to stop himself. Lightning was ripping his cells apart, searing his DNA, and stitching the cells back together.

He heard more than saw the holocron drop and the boys run forward. The next thing he knew, Jesse’s familiar helmet was in his face, and his frantic voice was calling for Rex to respond, but before Rex could open his mouth, a fog rapidly crawled into his vision, thickening before finally everything went black.

Febuwhump Day 23

Prompt: “Don’t look”

Warnings: graphic descriptions of violence/slave torture

Read on AO3

Oya Manda

While the tally marks on Rex’s armor are for his kills, the ones he now marks on the side of his boot are for the days that have passed since he and General Kenobi were taken to Kadavo. Crossing the other four marks with a shaky diagonal line to signify the end of the fifth day isn’t as satisfying as another enemy out of the way. He sighs as he sets down the little piece of graphite, letting his head hit the back of the bunk heavily like he’s too exhausted to hold it up himself.

Kadavo is a new type of hell. He thought cadet training was hard work but this… this is torture. The older troopers like to whisper about their “slavery to the Republic”, but those cushy Captains and Commanders haven’t been here. The clones might as well be house pets of the Republic compared to the horrors he’s seen at the Zygerrian market.

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angstpril day 11

i may not be able to do the whole month as i had intended bc life so idk we'll see

-

prompt: "this isn't you."

[summary: cody interrogates rex about ex-padawan tano's location.]

tw: electrocution

-

The cuffs chafe at his wrists, leaving them angry and red. Rex knows there is no point, escape is futile. That doesn't stop him from trying.

"Cody, please." The trooper just stares blankly at him, unyielding. A relic of what was once his brother.

"Tell me where Ex-Padawan Tano is." If he can just get through the programming, he can save Cody. They can leave this white room of hell, and be together, like they were meant to be.

"This isn't you!" The tension in his chest cracks, catapulting the shockwave of emotion into the empty space.

Cody just blinks, unaffected.

"Where is Ahsoka Tano?" His hands yank at the restraints.

Cody's eyes flick to his struggle for freedom.

"Having trouble?"A hint of Cody's old smirk returns. Rex is not glad to see it. Now cocky and smug, it's like an imposter has taken root.

"I'm not telling you anything." It hurts to look at Cody. His eyes are cruel, glinting with unfamiliar malice. The calculating nature once present in his friend has been honed like a knife. Sharp and prepared to strike deep.

"You were the last to see her." There is no way he'll give up Ahsoka. They'll have to pry the knowledge from his cold, dead hands.

She's his last friend.

Cody continues, "I examined the crash-site myself. The Venator is destroyed, but I know she isn't."

"Vod"-

"Don't call me that. I am not a traitor, I serve the Empire." The words reek with bitter irony. Rex knows Cody, the real Cody, would scream with the knowledge of what he's become.

"Cody, I can help you."

"Stubborn as always, I see. It's no matter." Cody stands and walks toward the exit, mumbling about obstinance and loyalty.

He opens the door to talk quietly with the Imperial guard.

"Tell Lord Vader we shall have her whereabouts by tomorrow. This one is being difficult."

Lord Vader's name sends a spike of fear through his heart, he's heard the rumors. A man cloaked in death, one who leaves brittle, burning carnage in his wake.

But Rex will do anything to protect Ahsoka. Even face Vader head-on.

Rex closes his eyes and prepares himself. He will not break, He will not break, He will not break-

Footsteps move toward the button near the left side of the room, with purpose. The control panel Rex had catalogued immediately after waking.

His eyes jolt open, a last ditch effort to find Cody's. Once, he would've looked to them for comfort, for support. Now it is a desperate plea, hoping to find the last shred of goodness in his friend.

Rising panic meets swift brutality, and Cody places his finger on the mechanism.

Betraying his vod again-

The electrocution starts, and Rex knows no more.

For the bad things happen bingo, I Will Punish You For Your Friend's Failure, with Obi Wan and Rex during the Zygeria arc with Rex being punished by the slavers.

Oooooh, happy evil brain twinkles.

TW for blood, child death, and mildly graphic torture. No specifics because spoilers but do be cautious.

•••

There is an enemy, and it is within, the Jedi taught.

You will encounter foes of all forms in your years as a Jedi. There will be cruel tyrants and selfish politicians, ruthless criminals and violent terrorists. Possessive lovers, radical reformists, slavers and desperate people willing to do whatever it takes to achieve what matters to them. And then the next thing, and the next.

But these are not the enemy.

The Jedi have only two natural enemies.

The Sith have been extinguished from the galaxy, lost to ruin. What the Jedi did not destroy, the Sith themselves did, locked in the raw emotion of the Dark Side, turning on one another.

And the Jedi are left with the true enemy.

You are the enemy, the Masters warned. Your weaknesses are your real enemy.

All obstacles can be overcome as long as you master yourself.

Fear will lead you astray. Push through it.

Anger will corrupt you. Abandon it.

Envy will poison you. Purge it.

Grief will break you. Overcome it.

And if you fall, you will fall as yourself, at peace. A true Jedi perishes for the right reasons, where not even self-possession could stop the sheer numbers of the opposition.

The enemy is within.

•

Obi-Wan Kenobi took a deep, steadying breath. The enemy is within, he reminded himself. My fear is the enemy. These people cannot destroy me.

The broken wrist, clumsily bandaged and still forced to work, whispers that otherwise. The bruises along his spine groan in misery. There was a cut on his upper lip that had bled and dried in his beard and lips. Someone had driven the handle of a whip into the muscles of his left leg, and it could not bear his weight.

He opened his eyes just in time to receive a stunning blow across the face.

Despite the fancies of holodramas, a strike to the face is nothing to brush aside.

The Jedi reeled, his head exploding, his face stinging. White light erupted behind his eyes and his nose burned as if he’d dived too deep into water.

“Who is your Master?” a voice demanded.

Obi-Wan blinked rapidly, gasping for air. His entire head throbbed; he was on his knees but his back had arched back so far his head was a foot from the floor. Wincing, he dragged himself back up and stared passively into the snarling Zyggerian’s eyes. “I am.”

A roar of discontent. “Wrong!”

The hand came back, but this time it closed around his throat.

•

Qui-Gon caught him by the shoulders, one hand moving upwards to press against the side of his Padawan’s neck.

“You are stronger than your fear,” he said. “Because your fear is only part of you. Your strengths outnumber your fear, Obi-Wan.”

Behind the boy’s young eyes, though - flashes of remembered horror, children dead in the streets of Melida/Daan and the screaming sound a blaster bolt made as it grazed close, so close, to his ear - and hit another boy instead —

Obi-Wan gasped as if drowning, his mind convinced that he was not getting enough oxygen.

Fear was going to kill him.

Fear was the enemy.

“Oh, Padawan,” sighed his Master. And then the hands left his neck and his shoulder, leaving Obi-Wan bereft, plunged into ice cold waters of terror and trauma, his failures haunting him like the ghost of Cerasi.

•

Obi-Wan choked, bucking involuntarily as the meaty hand clenched around his throat, crushing his air pipe.

He couldn’t breathe.

Still. What did it matter, if this monstrous slaver killed him in a fit of rage? Obi-Wan was more than this man and his pride, his greed, his disregard for life.

Obi-Wan was a Jedi.

His body’s automatic response to being abused and killed was nothing.

He was more than his fear.

“Damn Jedi!”

The hand released him, and the red-haired General slumped to the floor, unable to stop his forehead from colliding painfully with the uneven slag flooring. More blood. He tasted it in his mouth, he felt it dripping down his forehead.

“Very well,” the same voice continued. “The punishment must suit the prisoner, in some cases. How lucky of you. So special.”

They cannot hurt me, Obi-Wan reminded himself. My body is not my soul. I am more than my fear.

And then two more slavers entered the room at a summons, dragging a struggling figure between them.

Rex.

Obi-Wan’s fear spiked so sharply he felt his chest stab with physical pain.

No, he told himself. No. Fight it. Fight it—

The Zyggerian behind him sensed his rising emotion and grabbed him roughly, one hand on the thick collar around the Jedi’s throat, and the other dug painfully into his hair.

•

Obi-Wan shuddered.

A bomb - Twela, Bruin, Conno, Toorun, and others went flying, flailing helplessly in the air.

Toorun rolled on his side and got back up.

Conno collided with a vehicle and lay still.

Bruin landed on his feet and stood up, grinning in shocked relief, and then dropped with a bullet in his head. Blood spattered stone.

Twela landed on a pile of rubble.

When Obi-Wan found her, she had been lying there for an hour while the battle wore on, a rebar shoved through her stomach.

It took her two days to die—

Cerasi, falling into his arms. Gasping. Blood everywhere. Her father screaming. Blood on Obi-Wan’s hands—

Nield, his friend, telling him he didn’t belong - kicking him out of the camp to die alone - blaming Obi-Wan, rightfully, for the death of Cerasi and the peace she had helped create—

But as quickly as they had been taken away, the warm and solid hands of Qui-Gon Jinn were there again, this time on his back. Pulling him. Tightening around him.

Obi-Wan blinked rapidly, gasping and shaking, pressed into a warm embrace while his Master rocked him gently, whispering encouragement into his hair.

It was good to be held.

•

Obi-Wan twisted, struggling in near-panic to get away from the arms restraining him.

“Stop it!” he yelled. “Stop!”

They did not stop.

The Zyggerians had been on Rex for over two hours, holding him down, methodically slicing the soles of his feet, throwing their fists into his abdomen and face and throat, slamming his head against the unforgiving ground.

The Captain was a mess; bruised and bloodied, involuntary tears making his damaged face glisten.

Rex had finally started to scream five minutes ago, and still they would not stop—

“Stop! You’ll kill him!” Obi-Wan shouted, his bound hands clenched so tightly that his palms were torn and bleeding. “Stop!”

“And now the bird sings,” the slave master crowed, laughing down at him. “So high and mighty, Jedi?”

“Leave him alone!” Obi-Wan demanded.

The slaver’s face darkened.

Two things happened at almost the same moment.

A knife was drawn from seemingly thin air and without hesitation or fanfare was plunged into Rex’s thigh; the Captain screamed again, writhing.

A button was pressed, and the collar around Obi-Wan’s neck blazed with electricity that made him convulse, blinded, agonized.

“You don’t give the orders here,” the master snarled. “Haven’t you learned? You’re not in control here!”

•

“You are in control, Padawan,” Qui-Gon murmured, rubbing his hand up and down the boy’s back, following the still too-prominent line of his spine. Up and down, up and down.

“I’m not,” Obi-Wan sobbed. “I’m a failure.”

“You haven’t failed until you’ve let yourself down and decided not to get up again,” his Master replied firmly. “You are master of yourself, Obi-Wan, and therefore master of the situation. You can rise above. Even if you need help to do it. You are not a slave to fear.”

•

“Slaves are not masters,” the Zyggerian bellowed, and Rex screamed again.

Obi-Wan shuddered and twitched on the floor; he felt filthy, ragged, used. Now useless.

“You don’t make the rules!” A kick to the abdomen that deprived him of air. Once again suffocating. Drowning.

All he could see was the bloodstained floor. All he could hear was the voice, and Rex screaming through gritted teeth.

“Every time you cross me, I’ll punish your freakish friend. And anyone else that crosses your path. I! Am! In! Control! Here!” Each of the final words was delivered with a sharp jerk on the chain that had been attached to the collar.

Obi-Wan choked and wheezed.

Pain.

Terror.

Helpless.

I can’t —

“Who is your Master?”

“You are,” Obi-Wan told Fear, eyes glazed, blood spattered across his vision. Maybe permanently. Like a brand. Like Cerasi’s lifeblood on his shaking hands.

“Who is your Master?” the slaver asked again.

Obi-Wan stared vacantly upwards.

Fear looked back at him. Outside him. Inside him. Triumphant.

“You are,” whispered the Jedi, and his eyes rolled back in his head.

He slumped to the floor.

Rex’s screams faded as the punishment abruptly ceased; the Clone lay on the stone floor, limp and in terrible pain, staring with abject fear in his eyes at the fallen Jedi.

His utter relief that the pain was over, that they had taken their hideous hands off of him, was warring with his worry.

And his growing terror.

If even General Kenobi could be controlled...

“A good start,” the slave master said thoughtfully, trodding deliberately on Obi-Wan’s damaged foot. “And I was told Jedi did not feel fear.”

•••

angstpril day 4: he’s not heavy, he’s my brother

oh dear, oh dear. have some Umbara (derogatory)

(tw: major character death)

“Sir!” Waxer skids to a stop, out of breath. “I’ve found the platoon leader. He’s still alive.” The forest shivers around them, imaginary enemies blinking red eyes in the distance. 

Cody hates it here. “Who is it?”

Waxer swallows and his face pales. “It’s—” he clutches the helmet in his hand tighter, duraplast creaking in his grip. “It’s Rex.”

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Reconditioned Rex? That one sounds really interesting, how can I find the first part of it?

I'm sorry anon, there's no first part, I got my wires scrambled and confused the au 😭 I got a drawing (i think you can find it in the tag below, in on mobile, sorry :c), but lemme explain the basics of it >:)c

Basically, Rex is the one who shots Krell at Umbara, and he's sent to reconditioning. Because a logistics issue, they are accidentally sent to the 501st. Ofc, nobody assumes that's Rex, they just think this new blond kid is just a coincidence.

However, as time goes by, Torrent connect the dots and realize that this shiny used to be Rex!! The story the follows the five stages of grief, from denial (Rex has died) to acceptation (this shiny, Temple, is NOT Rex, but they wouldn't exist without his absence)

Oh Captain My Captain

Your breakfast of Rex tiddy is served.

CCC-7567 (crayon clone captain rex)

Merry Whump of May - Day 8

“Did you read the fine print?”

Circle

Blinded

Field

(original characters/story)

@themerrywhumpofmay

“It’s the only way to know what happened here.” Rex shed his jacket and tossed it on the ground. The sun beat down upon them, searing and merciless. The cicadas sang and sang. With every weak breath of wind, the grass around them sighed and fluttered. The field was empty save for Rex, Stockton, Burden, and the last survivor. 

Rex rolled up his sleeves. “Stay back, all of you, until it’s done.”

“And how will we know when it’s done?” Stockton picked up Rex’s jacket.

Rex didn’t answer and walked towards the last survivor.

Tied to a stake in the middle of the field was a young woman. Was, a young woman. She had died three days ago and laid in the hot sun until now, and it showed. Rex had tracked her down and arrived too late. Always too late. 

The last survivor rasped and stood on unsteady legs as Rex approached. He needed to know what she knew. Tears stung Rex’s eyes as he drew closer. 

“I’m sorry.” He whispered. “I’m really sorry. We tried. We tried.”

The last survivor’s skin was bloated and dark with pooled blood. Where there were once eyes, dark, crusted sockets stared out at Rex. Rex looked up and saw the vultures responsible still circling overhead. Every so often, one flew close enough to noonday sun to blot it out. A shadow covering the field. Ragged and brief. 

Rex knelt as close as he dared. 

He had searched the minds of humans before and had become good at it. It was easy to read people, to open up their minds and read their innermost thoughts. But reading the dead? Something about it turned his stomach. It wasn’t the putrid flesh before him, or clicking teeth, but the act of uniting his mind with the dead.

Rex hadn’t told Stockton or Burden, but he wasn’t sure that it wouldn’t kill him. 

But he had promised to try. This last survivor, survivor no more, had known something important to their cause. And he owed it to her to try. He had to try.

Rex took the dead woman’s face in his hands and gently pushed the limp hair away from her sightless eyes. She tried to bite him. The bloody foam that oozed from her mouth and nose ran over his fingers, lukewarm and slimy. The stake and her bound arms held her back. Rex closed his eyes. The sun was harsh above and behind his eyelids he saw only red.

The last survivor rasped and gurgled. 

Rex took a deep breath. He began to read.

A moment. 

He began to scream.

The ground vibrated, shuddering and shaking. Waves in the field. A flock of birds flee, black dots against the pale, hot sky. The grass around Rex and the last survivor begins to die. It shriveled. It turned black. A circle of rotting darkness. Then, nothing. Only death.

Rex felt someone stroking his hair.

“You’re safe.” It was Burden’s voice. And Burden’s hand.

The rotting smell of the corpse still lingered in Rex’s senses, but Burden’s scent was chasing it away. 

Rex shifted a little. His muscles ached and his limbs shook with the effort. His head was resting on someone’s lap. Probably Burden.

“You’re safe?” Rex rasped. His throat was dry and sticky. He coughed.

“Yeah. Stocky’s getting you water. Hang on.”

Rex opened his eyes and saw nothing.

His heart clenched. 

Rex closed his eyes again, braced himself, and opened them. Nothing.

“Uh, Burden?” Rex reached out towards the hand in his hair. He gripped Burden’s rough, calloused fingers. 

“Yeah?”

“I can't see.”

Rex felt Burden become still and tense. Then Burden squeezed Rex’s hand.

A sigh. “Did you not read the fine print on those powers you got?”

Rex’s laugh was shaky. He felt a tear slip from the corner of his eye and trail down his cheek, pooling in his ear. “No, not really. Didn’t come with a manual, you know?”

“It'll come back.”

“Maybe. But I got the information. She saw where they went.” Rex didn’t think too hard about what he had seen when reading the dead woman. He had gotten what they needed and that was that.

Burden pulled Rex a little closer. “You shouldn’t have done this.” Burden spoke into Rex’s hair, his breath warm on Rex’s scalp.

Rex closed his eyes. He didn’t need them open.

"Nobody Came for Me"

Here's a quick sketch! Rex and Emmett! I love their duet

I barely post on here but I am so desperate rn. Can anyone find this Cline Wars fic for me (I have searched so far and so long AND I STILL CANT FIND IT)

The literal plot is like they know about the chips but for some reason the commanders can’t take the chips out so they keep that hidden from everyone. And when Order 66 happens the commanders just like stop themselves anyway possible. In Cody’s case (because it starts in Cody POV) he like shoots himself or smth. Then the other part of the fic is like Rex and Obi Wan like at his bedside and other stuff I can’t remember. Cody does wake up, I think Fox is briefly mentioned and I think it’s mentioned that Wolffe is dead. But ye that’s all I really remember

FUN FACT TIME:

The ending of Clone Wars and Ahsoka novel are basically the same (there are slight changes tho) so let’s keep that in mind with what I’m about to say.

Going off the novel, after the burriel of the clones, Ahsoka and Rex would part ways. That’s right you heard it here. Ahsoka and Rex go in different directions after the crash. :)

Rewatching house of Anubis and there’s a clone of wars helmet on Alfie’s wall. It’s Captain Rex poggers.

Come on guys... Haven't you learned your lesson that what we're seeing is not as it seems by now.

Airheads (1994) • Michael Lehmann

Airheads (1994) • Michael Lehmann

I've already made a semi-joke post about this idea but now that we know that Shulk and Rex's kids are going to be a part of the Future Redeemed party and that they've been reborn into the Origin system as child soldiers I'm really curious as to how the two are going to react to what Moebius has done.

Despite Shulk's track record of violently flying off the handle when the people he cares about are hurt, I can imagine his reaction to seeing (who could be) his child in Aionios being that he’s just happy to see them and to know that they’re safe, even if they’ve been turned into a child soldier that doesn’t recognise him. 

After all, his reaction to Fiora being turned into a Mechon in XC1 was to almost instantly let go of his hatred for the Mechon, try to save her and try to understand what was actually going on. He wasn’t angry that they turned her, he was happy that she was alive.

-

Rex however, despite being outwardly optimistic and kind throughout his game I think would fly off the fucking rails the second he realises what Moebius had done to his daughter. 

Pyra and Mythra both have a lot of trauma about their past as living weapons, which they probably carry in some way even to this day. And I think the fact that Moebius would dare subject his daughter to the same pain his partners have been through, being dehumanised and forced to fight to survive as nothing more than living weapons would be enough to tip him over the edge.

I also imagine that N is going to be in some deep fucking water if Rex ever figures out what’s happened to Mio as well.