"Hey, vod'ika – you still there, or did the transmission cut out again?"

Rex shook himself back to the present, but it took him a long moment to remember where he was, and what he was doing. Two or three days ago, depending on whether you used local time or Standard, they'd moved him to better quarters, and he was still adjusting to bunking away from his men. As for what he was doing...

"Sorry, Cody. Didn't get a ton of sleep last night."

"Too busy chatting with Commander Tano into the small hours of the morning, eh?" Marshal Commander Cody quipped, sympathetic but stern – his usual state of being. "You have be more careful about that. Our engineering does us clones a lot of good, but even we can't stay awake forever."

"Yeah, yeah. You can skip the lecture." As ever, Cody had insisted they restrict this transmission to audio only, but Rex found himself grinning anyway. "It just– all right, it might just be our programming messing with me, but everything – the lack of organization, the regime change, being the underdogs when we used to be kings of the hill – it feels so much better when I've got my Jedi only a call away."

" 'My'?" Cody's voice took on a teasing edge. "Sounds like you've got a crush."

"I do not! She's my vod'ika, same as I'm yours. You know as well as me how easy it is to get close to your commanding officers, 'specially when Jedi start honing their empathy the second they leave their growth tanks– uh, they're born."

"I mean, you're not even legal yet by Standard years, but with the accelerated growth I don't think Commander Tano would mind the age gap..."

"Keep playing like that, and I'll spend the precious few minutes we've got left on EF-4 before they cut me off recalling every time I've caught you mooning over General Kenobi," Rex threatened. "I've got seven just off the top of my head."

"That's different," Cody protested, his voice rising a fraction, which to Rex's trained ears was essentially a dead giveaway that his older brother was lying.

"Yeah, sure."

"Half the guys under the General's command were mooning over him by the end; all it took was saving their sheb once or sparing them a kind word when they were stuck in the medbay! None of 'em meant anything by it."

Rex smirked, feeling a little more awake, but his comm trilled the quick tune for a text-only message before he could needle Cody any further.

"What was that?" Cody asked, grateful for an excuse to change the subject.

Rex tapped the power button and cued up his inbox, scanning the two succinct lines in text to the new message with half an eye. "I'm needed in the briefing room in ten. New mission, apparently. Did you get all those documents I sent you?"

"Yup." There was the muffled ring of a hand tapping metal. "Artoo's got it covered, same as always. He's just decrypting the reports now."

"You still sure it's safe to use him as a go-between? It's definitely not regulation, and a few superior officers of mine'd take issue with sending our messages through an entity that could be sliced and used against us."

An achingly familiar and deeply indignant whistle coasted up through his transmitter's speaker. Rex had to smile. "No offence, buddy," he added. The beep that followed sounded vaguely appeased.

"It's perfectly safe," Cody added. "In fact, his internal transmitter is stronger than my handheld – and mine is military issue. It's a damn good thing we had him with us when we got lost in Wild Space; Artoo is probably the only reason the signal doesn't break up as often for us as it does for some of the others using EF-4."

"We still break up, though."

" 'Course we do. Where'd the fun be in a clear signal?"

"Heh, ain't that the truth. Well, give my good wishes to General Kenobi."

"I always do."

"And to whatever other allies you and him are staying with." Rex frowned. "Speaking of, are you ever going to tell me why the pair of you never came back to the Rebellion proper after you made it back from Wild Space?"

"Can't, Rex old boy. I swore on the honor of the GAR never to betray the trust of the people who need my help now. But rest assured: our mission is vital to the future security of the Rebellion."

"Right." Rex didn't press further, certain it was a losing battle. "Vode bintar."

"Vode an," Cody said, finishing their customary signoff, and ended the comm.

One thing Rex did like about his new room was its proximity to the Yavin IV base's command center, and, by extension, the briefing room. It was less than five minutes before he was pushing through a group of younger brothers – pilots, by the looks of them – who sulked at him but didn't object as Rex made his way to the coveted places closer to the war table.

Well, they'd get their chance. Provided they all survived the next few years.

It was a dark place to let his thoughts drift off to. Rex snapped himself back to the present moment where they were all here and alive and well, and was surprised to see Senator Bail Organa step into the room through a side door. Command staff and representatives alike made way for him, and the brothers standing behind Rex stood a little straighter even as they murmured speculation between themselves.

The last time Rex had seen the man on this humid, musty little moon – the last time anyone had seen him, as far as Rex knew – had been the day the Rebellion declared this base fully operational two months before. Bail Organa's double life as a Rebel operative – as Origin – was simply too critical a secret to risk letting slip. For the Senator to be here now... this had to be important.

"Thank you for getting here on such short notice," he said as he reached the center of the room. "I even considered giving this briefing remotely to save the time it takes to travel from Alderaan, but in the end, a friendly face will make this easier."

Rex felt an itch in his trigger finger where it was gripping the helmet tucked under his arm, the quiet urge to grab his blaster and brace for an incoming threat. He quelled it, but he couldn't quite manage to quell the unease it stemmed from.

"This," the Senator went on as he slid a data chip into the main holotable's nearest reader and booted up the holoproj, "is Project Stardust." A hologram of a spherical object with some kind of radar dish bisecting its upper hemisphere materialized above the table, large enough for everyone in the room to get a good look. "It's an Imperial space station that, once completed, is projected to reach the size and mass of a small moon."

Rex felt the blood drain from his face, and he knew without looking away from the holotable that he wasn't the only one. A space station the size of a moon? Was this a joke? It was like something out of a cheesy science fiction broadcast.

Don't tell me they're planning to hit a target like that, Rex thought. We might have the ships and bodies for it, but until the higher ups find some way to add to our coaxium stockpile, this will bring all other operations to a standstill. Most of the old Venator-class cruisers have been grounded so long they've converted them into training facilities.

Command couldn't be planning an assault. Trying to take and hold something that massive made no sense unless there was something very, very valuable aboard – but perhaps this was only a recon mission. Rex looked around the room and tried to make sense of the officers and troopers he saw gathered there. The specialists involved in a given mission could tell a guy a lot about what he was getting into.

General Jan Dodonna spoke next, stepping to the forefront of a group of fleet admirals. "We recently got wind of an Imperial superweapon colloquially known as the Death Star being built in the Geonosis system."

" 'Course it'd be the bugs they'd go to for something like this," a clone to Rex's left whispered. The woman standing beside him nodded, lips twisted in disgust.

"New intelligence suggests this weapon and Project Stardust are one and the same," Dodonna went on. "Our goal is to meet this weapon in battle in a twenty-Venator assault, probing its defences to ascertain the magnitude of the threat."

The room exploded into shocked whispers. Hidden by the din, Rex breathed a quiet sigh. Dodonna was a recent defector to the Rebellion, one of the few Republic optimists who'd stayed with the new Imperial Navy to try to change things from within. He was the subject of a lot of talk around the base, and not much of it was good. No one could deny his steady hand with his subordinates or the scope of his keen strategic mind, of course, but this wasn't going to help his reputation.

But maybe that was the idea. Rex scattered the pieces of information he'd been given on a blank mental backdrop, and wished, not for the first time, that he had Fox or Cody's knack for this kind of analysis.

A maverick commanding officer whose history with the Empire was dodgy, but who'd be up to date on the Empire's dealings. Probing defenses, not eliminating them. The magnitude of the threat, not the unknown nature of it. The vode'ika in flight suits, and the fleet admirals packed together like a litter of spooked tooka kits.

Project Stardust. Dust and rubble from a star. Dust from the Death Star?

"The Death Star – it's the planet-killer, isn't it?" Rex blurted. Instantly all eyes were on him, but he refused to be cowed – not until he got some answers. "You're asking us to go into battle against the Empire's planet-killer."

Dodonna spluttered. "Who is so insubordinate as to–"

Bail Organa was a man who'd been waiting for the hammer to fall and had finally heard it clang as he put a calming hand on the general's shoulder and said, "Yes. The station is nowhere near completion as of yet. But once it is, it will allegedly have the explosive yield to destroy a planet with a single shot."

It was quiet half a second longer before the shock blanketing the room devolved into an outcry of fear and outrage. Some of his tank-grown ori'vode would resent the lack of military stoicism – Rex thought he heard Commander Spike calling for order somewhere in the rabble – but for his part, Rex couldn't blame them. He was fighting to keep his cool as it was, too.

"That," Senator Organa thundered, cutting through the clamor, "is the reason why I called this meeting. The word 'alleged' is to be our saving grace." He lowered his voice as the room returned to partial order, but none of the intensity left him. "We have some evidence to suggest construction of the station began shortly before the beginning of the Clone Wars, but it's been built in a hurry."

"Emperor Serenno is eager to cement his power," Dodonna continued. "And yes, the galaxy's fear of a planet-killer could certainly be a quick way to do it. But our operative aboard the Death Star, Veermok, believes that since it's being assembled in such a hurry, it will have weaknesses we can exploit."

Senator Organa spread his hands in an effort to look unimposing. It mostly worked. "Let me clarify right now that Command knows the Rebellion's limitations. We have no intention of sending any of you into open combat against such odds – even if our reports suggest the planet-killing weapon is still in development.

"Thus far, rough computer-generated models of the station's present stage of completion and forecasts for the final phase of construction are all the information Veermok has been able to get to us." The Senator entered a command into the holotable's keypad, and the hologram of the sphere shifted into something else – the skeleton of a sphere, with inner workings and a central column exposed through missing panels. Rex assumed this was what the station had to look like right now.

"Your mission will be to act as cover for a strike team headed by Marshal Commander Spike," he went on. "His team will perform a flyby of the station's polar region, from which Veermok will relay the technical schematics of the station."

"Why now?" a brother called from the back – one of the pilots. "Sure, we've all heard the ghost stories about an Imperial planet-killer, but if it's real, why's this the first we're hearing of it?"

Senator Organa smiled grimly. "Because now is the only time we'll have to strike. One of the Emperor's chief agents and a major obstacle inhibiting Veermok's movement on the station just left for Coruscant. Despite significant risk to his cover, Veermok has opted to move our initiative forward by a few weeks. There's a chance the weapon could be moved to a more secure location once this agent makes his report to the Emperor, and playing it safe might cost us this opportunity."

Spike was next to gravitate into the little knot of Rebel officers and agents clustered tightest to the holotable. "I made a point to get all the COs and XOs of the capital ships necessary for the venture invitations to this meeting; it'll fall to you to relay the finer points to your subordinates. The assault will lean heavily on the use of starfighters to get around the Death Star's gun emplacements, but that doesn't make your ships' role laying down cover fire any less critical.

"As for the pilots here today, the file size of the plans for a moon-sized space station is going to be massive, and we'll be relying on your efforts to shield us from TIE fighters while we make the transfer. The lot of you will form up into two squads, each with a double complement of Y-wings, flying in defensive formation around my strike team. For further instructions, you'll report to Captains Rex and Jattson."

Rex snapped from a wary half-slouch to his full height. "Sir!" He winced at how shrill his voice was, and tried again. "I've always been in the army command track, not the navy. Sure, I've got lots of experience overseeing aerial strikes and skirmishes in space from the bridge, but I'm no pilot. Jattson flew Special Ops for the 212th under General Kenobi for the better part of a year."

Spike shook his head. "Your Jedi General relied on the navy for his offensives. Army or navy, the hours you've clocked in a fighter speak for themselves. And don't think your involvement in the Second Battle of Geonosis went unnoticed, either. I'd wager you and Jattson know the system's limitations better than anyone else here."

"Don't worry, sir," one of the vode'ika said, squeezing around his brothers to clap Rex warmly on the shoulder. "We'll make sure you stay high and dry. Just keep the comm open and tell us what you need done, and we'll do it. We trust you."

Rex pressed his fingers over his younger brother's, clasping their hands together for a moment before the other clone slipped away to rejoin his fellow pilots. A mixture of pride and dismay churned in his gut. Though he'd retained the rank of captain, Rex was the de facto commanding officer of the 501st by popular vote – and he hadn't known the pilots at the back of the room were some of his.

Sure, he couldn't expect to know every brother by name, but he should've felt at least some flicker of recognition when he passed them, or when the young pilot had reached out and expressed his support. The guy was wearing 501st colors, and had a shaved scalp with a tattoo of a Y-wing on it, for the Maker's sake!

Rex had definitely been on too many undercover missions lately. Commander Tano was still working out where she had to put the bulk of her effort, but Rex knew, as he had always known, that his place was with his brothers. After months away from his troops, this mission made a startling kind of sense.

Rex made a note to comm her before he left on this mission, if he had time, and if it wasn't unrealistically early or late on Onderon. It had been a while since he'd really asked her where she stood with the Rebellion, and with such a serious mission coming up, it was important to know if they were on the same page.

"Now that we've gotten all the introductions out of the way, let's go over the gun emplacements Veermok was able to get us, and some of the external problems we may face when dropping into the system," Spike said, drawing the whole group back to the situation at hand.

"Even without the Empire squatting there keeping an eye on things, the bugs – the Geonosians," Rex corrected himself mid-interjection, "are seriously xenophobic, and may have defensive measures of their own in the outer reaches of the system."

"Nothing we can't handle," Spike replied with the closest approximation the man could ever manage to a smile, and called up a chart of the Geonosis system. Rex did his best to trust him when he said that. In the end, even against a system full of unfriendlies and a suspected planet-killing superweapon, that was part of the reality of command – a reality this mission was going to be bringing Rex right up close and personal with the moment he left this room.

Curled up in Lux's – hers? theirs collectively? – bed with a pair of datapads she'd scraped off Noreino House's garbage heap and repaired with tools on loan from the Amavikkas, Ahsoka was so relentlessly focused on analyzing the floor plan of a new system of Dashonderon mining tunnels she nearly missed the ring of her transmitter until it was too late. Lunging across the bed, she snapped it up in one hand and jabbed the icon to answer the call with the other.

The caller ID made her grin, but she didn't stray from their protocol: the standard codename identification followed by a few questions with answers the other would be sure to know. "This is Fulcrum. What's my favorite food?"

"This is Crowned Helm. Small rodents, but they give you indigestion. You feel compelled to warn people of that when they try to surprise you with food, so most of the time you settle for sweets as a safer close second. Any kind'll do; you're not particular. When was the last time you saw me drunk?"

"Two weeks before the Battle of Felucia. We drank the last few bottles of Blinker's batch of jet juice to celebrate getting the refugees from Ord Mantell to safety. I remember because..." Ahsoka frowned. How to tell him? "Just under two months ago I dreamed of Felucia, of running up to the landing zone, and after Anakin commed me I remembered asking myself if he'd had anything to drink lately."

Rex's tone shifted from laid-back to soothing in a heartbeat. "Flashback?"

"Must've been."

"Have you had many since then, Commander?"

"No, actually – and I'm hugely grateful for that. Grateful to someone, come to think of it. I've got an... an ally here who's been a huge help in keeping me centered," Ahsoka said, struggling to keep her tone neutral. "You'd like him."

"Well, you'll have to tell me all about him on our next call, I'm sorry to say." She could practically hear Rex's grimace through the transmitter, that familiar press and twist of lip only he could pull off. "I've only got a few minutes to talk, this time."

"What's up, Rexter?"

"A new mission to the Arkanis sector. Listen, I'm under orders to keep it quiet, so I can't give you the details, but in case I don't make it back in–"

Ahsoka's montrals pricked up at the sound of the door into the suite's sitting room and office sliding open, and a familiar chuckle floating through the bedroom door still isolating her. She felt her cheeks warming, and muttered quickly, "Rex, I'm sorry, someone just got in. I can't talk any longer. When will you be back?"

"Well, that's the thing–"

"Is a week enough time before I try calling again?"

"I... think so."

Even torn between this conversation and Lux's arrival, it was impossible to miss the nearly mournful quality creeping into Rex's voice. "Hey, you all right?"

"Just fine, Commander. Go on – wouldn't want you to blow your cover. We'll talk in a week, yeah?"

"Yeah," Ahsoka said, shunting a minute spark of energy from the Force to her lekku to track Lux's movement through the next room without completely losing track of her immediate surroundings. "May the Force be with you."

"And with you... Ahsoka."

"Fulcrum out," she said hurriedly. As she ended the call, she grabbed the two datapads and hurried across the room to shove all three devices in her armoire for the time being. She'd just made it back to the middle of the room when the door slid open and Lux darted through, dragging a half-open suitcase after him.

"Lux! How was your–"

"Hello Alynna," he breathed. Then, disconcertingly, he shot right past her, heavy boots clicking on the tile. Stars, but he was still wearing the cold-weather gear he'd packed for Alderaan; he had to be sweltering!

Bemused, she watched him thump the suitcase down on the bed and start throwing clothing out of it. Ahsoka padded closer, sidestepping an incoming missile that might've been a pair of pants, and was about to ask what was going on when he grabbed a small metal container and held it aloft.

"A-ha!" he chirped triumphantly, bouncing once on the balls of his feet. Then, turning to face her again, he offered it to her with a bright smile. "Quickly, open it."

Frowning, Ahsoka took it. She was surprised to find it cold to the touch – so cold condensation was starting to wick out of Kyzeron's muggy air and cling to the lid beneath her fingertips. "What's in–"

"Just open it!"

Ahsoka obliged, and felt her jaw go slack. "Is that...?"

"An Alderaanian fluff cake?" Lux finished, looking very proud of himself. With a light hand on the small of her back, he guided her over to the couch and sat down. "Oh yes, it is. I had the palace staff order one for me just before I left Alderaan."

"Aren't they supposed to be eaten frozen?"

He grinned. "Why do you think I was in such a hurry to get in here?"

"Stars above, it's not that hot in Noreino House! At least get changed before you sweat a puddle on the cushions," Ahsoka said, shifting the container into one hand so she could jab him in the side with the other.

"All right, all right!" Lux held his hands up in surrender, laughing brightly, and despite the sweat that was starting to bead his brow, Ahsoka thought he'd never looked more beautiful.

"Go on," she prodded, and this time, he listened, shedding layers as he rose to his feet and made for the walk-in closet. He pulled off his undershirt as he rounded the corner, and Ahsoka caught a glimpse of a slender porcelain back dotted here and there with deep brown beauty marks, rippling with muscles she'd helped him build.

Ahsoka made herself turn away when she felt a flush starting on her lekku, opening the container to study the pale green fluff cake instead. She'd only had them once before, but it was a taste not soon forgotten: the round, bitter-within-sweet candy shell made from wieha berries; the smooth, creamy filling; the delicate cakey center... Ahsoka couldn't believe Lux had thought to bring this back for her.

The rustle of cloth and tap of bare feet on the floor drew her attention. She looked up to find Lux leaning against the doorframe of the closet, dressed in loose pants and a simple short-sleeved tunic cinched at the waist with a thin sash. The smile on his face could've powered Coruscant for a year.

Ahsoka carefully closed the lid over the cake to keep some of the cold in and set it down on the couch. She fought to keep her posture relaxed as she went to meet him, her steps level and unhurried, but it was no use: she practically scampered the last few feet separating them. It was only with effort that she managed to tuck her arms behind her back instead of reaching out for him.

"I believe thanks are in order," she said.

"So formal," he murmured. A mischievous grin crossed his face before he swept himself into a bow. "My Lady Taari, it is the greatest honor to endeavor to please you. Thanks are not required, nor would I ever be so bold as to ask for them."

Ahsoka snorted, only to get the wind knocked out of her when Lux threw his arms around her and scooped her up, hugging her so tight he lifted her off her feet. Beaming, she put her arms around his shoulders and tucked her face into the crook of his neck, breathing him in.

The soft-within-sharp smell of citrus cologne and herbal soap washed over her, and the last bits of tension she'd been holding onto from a week of considerably more work than sleep faded away. With a happy hum, she burrowed closer, feeling the slightest rumble of a laugh where her lek was pressed against his vocal cords. Ahsoka nearly mewled in protest when he finally set her down, dragging him back within reach by the shirt collar before she could consider the implications and kissing him soundly.

With a sigh of pleasure, Lux leaned into the kiss, arms slipping back under hers to grip her shoulders. But he pulled away long before she had a chance to get reacquainted with the shape of his lips, the inquiring – and very intriguing – way he was nibbling on her lower lip. "I'll never forgive myself if I got the fluff cake all the way here only for it to melt before you can eat it." Ahsoka tried to kiss him again, and he put a finger in front of her lips. "I mean it!"

Petulance bolstered her determination, and she kissed the tips of his fingers instead. Lux flushed, a soft splash of color on his pale cheeks. Ahsoka grinned.

Lux rolled his eyes playfully and pecked her on the lips in apology. Satisfied, Ahsoka sauntered back to the couch and grabbed the container. It had left a wet spot on the couch, and the damp velvet was cool under her palm as she sat down again.

She raised a brow at him as he flopped down beside her. "Any other gifts you have in store for me?"

"At the gala I told you all the things I'd give you if you asked it of me, but you wanted none of them. Then I realized neither of us mentioned food. I figured you'd forgive me for exploiting a loophole if you got a treat out of it." The look on his face was half grin, half grimace. "I've learned recently that it's hard for me to shut that part of my brain off. Exploiting loopholes is kind of what I used to do for a living."

"How could I be mad?" Ahsoka said, gawping at him. "I've only had these once before, when a close friend of mine was invited to Alderaan, but the memory stayed with me for weeks. I would've tried to find them again, but my family frowned at the overindulgence of... well, anything." She thought of the hearty but bland meals at the Temple, and smiled sadly. What would her teachers think of her now? She'd made a choice to pursue this with Lux, but it was tougher than she'd expected to silence the voice of Jedi dogma. "I guess I absorbed and enjoyed the experience, then I let it go."

"Well," Lux purred, sounding distinctly mocking, "I can always eat it myself..."

Ahsoka pulled the container closer to her body. "I happen to like sweets."

"Then indulge. I doubt you'll get another anytime soon – much like the famous storm dance, they're not often found off their planet of origin."

Planet of Origin. Ahsoka had to grin at that. Before Lux could ask what was amusing her, she stretched over to kiss his cheek. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

She flashed him another smile and picked up the cake, taking a careful bite to crack the outer layer without losing any pieces of candy shell. Her eyes slipped shut.

"Good?"

Ahsoka could only nod as she took a second bite, savoring the way the cool, buttery middle layer melted on her tongue. A moan of pure gustatory pleasure escaped her, half-muffled around the mouthful of succulent cake and candy. "I know you can exercise restraint," she said as she swallowed, "but I am very surprised this survived the trip home."

"Oh, believe me, I was eyeballing the conservator for most of the flight. But I wanted to bring you something special, and in the end, that won out."

"Have a bite."

"Oh, no, I couldn't–"

Ahsoka hit him with the look she'd always reserved for unruly subordinates, a flat stare that brooked no argument, and held up the cake.

Chuckling, Lux obliged, leaning over and biting down with an appreciative hum. The icing decorating the outer layer in delicate, angular swirls had started to melt with the heat of Ahsoka's fingertips, and when she withdrew, there was a small white-green smear in the corner of his lips.

The same burn she'd felt at the gala flared high in her chest, made her daring, and before Ahsoka knew it she was shifting closer and pressing her mouth to that spot of melted icing. Lux breathed in sharply when she flicked at it with her tongue, and his eyes were gleaming with interest by the time she'd pulled away.

That, she could deal with. The slave girl who was an object of lust was an old role, not wholly comfortable – it never would be, not with what she'd been through – but it had defined parameters. The pure adoration, the raw, uninhibited attachment lingering beneath the want on Lux's face made the ground slide out from under her.

Being this close to him with this kind of energy coursing through them both was overwhelming in a way it hadn't been at the gala. Then, sleeping with him had been probable conjecture, and the people just inside the veranda had made it easy to exaggerate to herself. Now, they were alone, and the possibility was real.

A small part of her rose to the challenge, keenly interested, but the rest of her... No, she couldn't. Not yet. There was too much she hadn't thought over, too much she hadn't dealt with, and it didn't feel right.

"Tell me about the trip," she said instead of pressing the advantage, taking another bite of the fluff cake when his gaze lingered a little too long on her lips.

Lux blinked and shook himself as though trying to wake from a daze. Then, smiling warmly, he told her every last detail about the glittering soirées, the other debutants he'd met, and the Crown Princess of Alderaan, a sweet baby girl by the name of Winter who'd hog your attention the whole day if she could get away with it. He spoke of long walks with Bail Organa spent reminiscing about the glory days of the Republic before the Blockade of Naboo – a time she and Lux were just barely old enough to remember, if they concentrated.

Afternoon slipped into evening and evening into the middle of the night. When their voices finally grew hoarse, they stopped talking, sprawling out on the couch and trading sleepy kisses until Lux, hyperspace lagged and drained from the long trip, finally drifted off.

He didn't wake again that night, and they didn't discuss all they'd promised to the morning after the gala. Ahsoka didn't mind. She was getting better with Lux, but it was challenging enough to communicate everything she was learning about herself when the bond between them was still so new – when there was so much about her he still didn't know. For now, she was just happy to trace the planes of his face and card her fingers through his hair while he slept, safe and warm in her arms.

The set-dressing is complete, and the fabled planet-killer of Rebel campfire tales is about to take center stage. Will the massing attack force realize too late that Vader didn't leave the system as Veermok believes, and is actually lying in wait – if that even is his plan? How will Vader react to going into battle with his old troops? Sequestered away on Onderon, will Ahsoka learn of the pending assault in time to take part or assist? Or has her infatuation with Lux just cost her more than she could imagine? Only time will tell...

This was literally all that was going through my head as I was proofing this. Don't you guys just love week-long existential crises that fry all your brain cells up really nicely in garlic and olive oil then fling them right in the compost bin?

Moving right along, there is a TON going on in this chapter, but I think a lot of it was self-explanatory, or will be explained in the next few updates. Some of the old guard may remember chapters related to the Death Star assault from the first draft of the fanfic. One thing I tried to do with this version was weave it into the story in a more plausible way, and this the first part of all those little moments and tidbits kind of falling into place.

Another thing that was very important for me to address the second it became relevant – albeit with a fair amount of fluff – was Ahsoka's complicated relationship with intimacy as a result of what she went through. She's definitely drawn to Lux and she trusts him not to take liberties, plus she's getting better at articulating boundaries, but she still has a lot of work to do to feel completely comfortable. It's just another aspect of her journey back to herself I'm having a really good time exploring!

For those of you who are unfamiliar with Mando'a (as I generally am as well unless I look things up), here's a list of the terms I used in this chapter:

"Vode bintar" and "vode an": Brothers both, brothers all.

"Vod'ika" or "vode'ika": Little sibling, and then the plural form, little siblings. Vod is a gender-neutral word (I used it to refer to both Ahsoka and younger clones in this chapter), so prior context is needed to fill in the person's gender if ever applicable.

"Ori'vod" or "ori'vode": older sibling – contextually brother, since Cody identifies as male – and the plural form, older siblings.

Since I'm shortening the wait time between chapters from two weeks to ten days, I'll also be shortening the sneak peeks a touch, but not removing them completely. Next chapter, comrades and friends turned enemies will go head to head, with explosive results. I'll talk to you guys then!

When the countdown hit thirty seconds, Rex keyed up his Y-wing's comm system and opened a link with his squad. "This Captain Rex. All wings report in."

One by one, the twenty-four pilots under his command checked in – and in numerical order, no less. Rex allowed himself a proud smile. These brothers were young, but they definitely weren't sloppy.

"Right. How's everybody feeling?" he asked.

The more boisterous pilots and gunners called out boasts and jeers against the enemy Basic and Mando'a, but Rex heard a few too many nervous laughs in the mix for his liking. Nerves were sentient nature, but the more at ease he could get these vode'ika before they took off, the better.

"You boys who are laughing like you don't wanna be here, I hear you, and I understand," he said as the hangar doors open and the vanguard shot off through it. "I won't coddle you with lies and blind optimism; we're facing crazy odds today. A planet-killer in the dead center of a star system swarming with bugs? I'll be honest: any other day, I'd tell you to get out of town for making up stories.

"But you were chosen for this mission because your squads are the best of the best," he went on. "The best of the best don't need to be coddled; they can handle even the craziest odds and still come through on top. The Rebellion is counting on us to protect Spike's team while they get those plans, so what're we gonna do?"

"See the mission through!" a brother yelled – the pilot with the Y-wing tattoo he'd spoken with at the briefing. Rex wished now that he'd gotten the man's name.