The cruiser is buzzing with activity as Rex, helmet in hand, marches through the hallways at a breakneck pace. He'd just received word from General Kenobi that his presence is needed on the bridge, along with General Skywalker. After years of fighting side-by-side with General Kenobi, a direct message to his personal comms isn't an unheard-of scenario. However, Rex rarely receives orders from the General of the 212th, which can only mean one thing: he can't find Anakin. After checking both his personal quarters and the mess hall, he knows there's only one other place that Anakin often sneaks off to.

Rex slides to a stop in front of the door to the mediation room and makes sure no one else is in the hallway before punching in his clearance code. The door hisses as it slides open. Anakin's head shoots towards the sound, but the worry in his features disappears when he notices Rex standing in the doorway.

"Sir, General Kenobi has requested our presence on the bridge."

"Thank you, Rex. I'll be out in a minute."

Rex gives his General a curt nod before exiting and standing guard in front of the door to ensure his privacy. Rex has known about Anakin's relationship with Senator Amidala for quite some time. After all, Anakin was never particularly gifted in the matters of subtleness and secrecy. And Rex, after many years working side-by-side with his General, knows that his favorite place to slip away and have a private comm chat is the meditation room. After a few moments, Anakin exits and gives Rex an appreciative grin.

"Ready to meet our new Commander?"

Rex falls into step beside Anakin as they begin to make their way to the bridge. He doesn't quite know how to answer the General's question. After Ahsoka's departure, Rex was sure he'd be promoted to Commander. However, several weeks after the position was vacated, Anakin received word from the Jedi Council that they'd be sending another Jedi to fill the position. Rex would be lying if he said that it didn't sting. After all, the Jedi Council decided it was best to promote someone outside of the battalion when he's been with the 501st for the majority of his life now. He knows that not everyone looks at the clones like General Skywalker and Kenobi do — like they are all actual, complex individuals instead of pawns on a holochess board — but his dedication and loyalty to the 501st is undeniable. But then Anakin asked who they'd be sending, and they said your name.

"Yes, sir."

"I'm sure you have thoughts on the matter. After all, you've probably heard the rumors circling around."

Of course, Rex has heard rumors about the lone survivor of the 177th whispered in the bunk room after curfew or thrown around amidst the chaos of the mess hall; however, he also read your report after they'd been notified of your new position with the 501st. You were stationed with your squadron on Ferrix, an outer rim planet that the Republic considers essential territory due to its abundant natural resources and bountiful salvage markets. The 177th had been pushing back the Separatist Army for weeks — trudging through waist-deep snow in sub-zero temperatures — when the Separatist Army began shooting at them from above in a small canyon during whiteout conditions. You made the wise decision to retreat. After all, the 177th were supposed to be pulled off planet three days prior, but, last you heard, multiple snow storms delayed the reinforcements. Before you could retreat, your squadron was flanked by the Separatist Army on either side of the canyon — leaving the 177th weak, frostbitten, and unknowingly trapped in a minefield. Rex remembers feeling sick to his stomach reading the report, knowing the 177th never stood a chance. If the explosions didn't kill your squadron, then the ensuing avalanche that buried everything in the canyon did. You were the only survivor, and you spent the next two days pulling your troopers out of the snow while waiting for the next squadron to relieve you. After you were finally evacuated, you spent the next month submerged in a bacta tank, and when you finally returned to the Jedi Temple, you were promptly demoted to Commander. A small, selfish part of him thinks that the Jedi Council is punishing you both with your new position.

"I read the report, sir. I have nothing but respect and admiration for our new Commander."

Anakin glances at the clone, searching his features for any hint of dishonesty or skepticism. But he is pleased to see nothing but sincerity on his Captain's face. He's also read the report, and the incredible act of loyalty to your squadron may not have earned you favor from the Council, but it certainly earned Anakin's respect. Although he knows that the council can never replace Ahsoka, you are certainly cut from the same cloth as the rest of the 501st.

"As do I. Obi-Wan ensures me that they're a good fit for the team. Apparently, their squadron rivaled ours in Council sanctions for 'unorthodox military strategies'."

This causes Rex to laugh. Rex was an exemplary student during his training on Kamino — being one of the first clones promoted to a leadership role in the Republic's army. However, one thing he's learned throughout his time as Captain of the 501st is warfare is rarely done by the book. Instead, he's realized that in times of war, leaders require a little more finesse. The Council may not necessarily approve of their methods, but they don't complain as long as they get the job done. But on the rare instance when they fail? Well, let's say Rex hopes never to attend another one of those meetings.

"Then this should be a smooth transition, sir."

Anakin nods at his second-in-command, and Rex slides his helmet on him before they enter the bridge. He is grateful that his face is obscured because he's sure his expression twists into prominent confusion as the doors slide open and reveal you standing beside General Kenobi. You're young — not much older than Anakin. He supposes the Republic needs all the leaders it can get, but he thought that General Skywalker was an anomaly. But here you are. You're clad in navy Jedi robes and Republic-issued black body plate except for your shoulder bells, which are undoubtedly standard clone armor. The sight peaks Rex's curiosity — he's never seen a Jedi sport their squadron's uniform until today. He immediately recognizes the white spaulders with deep, purple accent paint — the color once assigned to the 177th — as Commander Bravo's. However, you've made a singular adjustment to your late Commander's gear. Tallies are a regular occurrence on clone armor. Some clones like to keep track of their Separatist kill count, while others like to document their successful missions. However, he's certain that the tally marks you've etched onto your left spaulder signify something a little more personal. There are nine tally marks — one for each clone you lost on Ferrix. He's certain because his marks convey a similar message — one tally for each brother he's lost since the start of the war. The shoulder bells seem almost out of place as they contrast the rest of your dark attire. And Rex quickly realizes that it's purposeful. You want them to be the first thing someone notices — you want to keep the memory of Bravo and the rest of the 177th alive. Rex finds this behavior at odds with what he knows about Jedi teachings; however, it's also one of the most admirable actions he's witnessed from a Republic General.

"General Skywalker, a pleasure to meet you again."

Your tone is assertive, and you stand like a soldier with your hands clasped tightly behind your back. The way you square your shoulders at the Generals showcases your defiance; however, Rex can tell you mean no disrespect to Anakin. No, this display is directed toward General Kenobi — to show clear opposition toward the Jedi Council. Obi-Wan lacks the shock evident in both Rex and Anakin's features, and he shows no offense to your actions — seemingly indifferent to your noncompliance. Rex can only imagine what your meetings with the Jedi Council were like before this. He watches as an amused grin spreads across Anakin's face at your antics. General Kenobi was undoubtedly right about one thing — you'll fit right in with the rest of the 501st.

A part of him is surprised that you were reassigned at all, but then again, the Republic Army needs all the bodies it can get. Maybe you understand what it's like for the clones, constantly feeling like pieces in the Republic's grand game of holochess.

"Pleasure is all mine, Commander. This is our second-in-command, Captain Rex."

Rex notices the way your jaw clenches at the word 'commander'. Although he was initially disappointed in being passed over for the title, he can't imagine what it's like to be stripped of your position altogether. Especially one you'd worked so hard to achieve — becoming a Jedi General is no small feat. He'd feel lost if he was ever demoted from his position as Captain. So, Rex muscles off his helmet and gives you a salute, trying to provide you with proper respect.

"Sir."

Your frigid facade melts for just a second, and in its place is a moment of recognition. Rex watches as your eyes widen ever so slightly, and your breath seems to catch in your throat. You look like you've seen a ghost.

"Excuse me, General. Captain."

Your voice wavers slightly as you give Rex a curt nod. He watches with Anakin as you retreat from the bridge, leaving them equally impressed and confused. General Kenobi clears his throat before addressing the Bantha in the room.

"As you can see, they came back from Ferrix a little..."

"Frosty?"

Obi-Wan stifles a laugh as his former padawan finishes his sentence.

"Something like that."

Rex's eyes are still glued to the door you just left. He can't stop thinking about the way you looked at him. He's confident that this is the first time he's met you, but you regarded him with a familiarity that made Rex believe you once knew him — like he is someone who haunts you.

He tears his eyes away from the door and focuses on the conversation between General Kenobi and Skywalker. There is still no word on their next assignment. This is disheartening, after the loss of Ahsoka both Anakin and Rex are itching for a new mission — for something to keep their minds off of what's missing. No matter where they get sent next, one thing is sure: there's work to be done beforehand to earn their new Commander's trust. Obi-Wan excuses himself as he receives a call from the Jedi Council. Anakin takes this moment to direct his attention back to Rex.

"What do you think, Rex?"

Cody woke up to a screaming match between Bly and some kind of small creature stood on his chest. Despite the small size of the animal, he was unable to determine who was actually louder. The expressions of terror were identical, which was impressive considered the fact that each one of the little things’ ears were as large as its whole skull, its eyes took up a good half of its facial real estate, and its muzzle was a sharply tapered little cone filled with equally sharp looking teeth, which were on full display as its jaw was open as wide as it could possibly go as it screamed at Bly and Bly screamed at it.

“Shut up!” Wolffe yelled.

Mouth and muzzle snapped closed. Cautiously, Bly sat up, and the little animal jumped down onto the floor and sat. “What is that thing?” he asked, his voice a little shaky.

“And how did it get in here?” Rex half asked, half mused, staring at it with narrowed eyes.

Mini was rubbing his eyes and yawning. Raven had his pillow over his head and didn’t respond. Percy hadn’t even woken up. Javik was the one who answered them—or, answered Rex. “Someone let him in.”

“Why?” Bly asked, aghast.

“He wanted in?” Javik shrugged as if that was obvious. “Go back to bed.”

“I can’t sleep with that thing in here!” Bly declared. “Can’t we just… shoo it out?”

“He’ll just chew his way back in,” Mini said, yawning so widely his jaw cracked. “Hi, Mister Floofles,” he added to the thing on the floor.

“He’ll what?” Cody said, exchanging a look with Rex.

“Yeah, his species has crazy strong teeth. And strong stomachs, too. Hound and the ARF troopers managed to train him to go and get someone when he wanted to be let in a room instead of making his own way in, and nobody wants more holes in the base so he just goes wherever he wants.”

Cody re-examined the little creature. Standing up, he doubted it would even reach his mid-calf in height. It had four tiny, spindly legs that were overly long for its body and a long, skinny tail with a small tuft of fuzz on the end. There were tufts of fur growing out of its ears, but the rest of its head and its legs were totally naked. At the base of its neck it grew a bunch of quills, which gradually transitioned into wiry fur that stopped right where its tail started. Fangs poked out of its closed mouth, and it had very long claws on its paws. It was tan in color, with darker brown on the quills, and its massive eyes were liquid black. It was almost cute-ish, in an incredibly ugly way.

“Mister Floofles?” Rex asked, because that was the most important question here, for sure.

Lucky for them all, Mini was willing to elaborate. He hopped out of his bunk, scooped up the tiny creature, and then sat down cross legged on his bunk and plopped the thing in his lap, scratching its ears as he explained. “He belongs to this crazy old natborn lady. Hound and Grizzer rescued him one time after he got out from a pet sitter, and he decided he really likes the mastiffs—we think he maybe thinks he is one. The lady really liked that Hound managed to keep him from escaping, so she hired him as her go-to pet sitter. Whenever she’s off doing something, she calls Hound, who picks him up and brings him here, and he stays here until she wants him back again.”

“Why would anyone agree to take him?” Bly looked and sounded aghast.

“Never say no to a natborn,” Raven said from under his pillow.

Mini grimaced. “Yeah, that, and also she offered to pay Hound for it because apparently ‘he's the only competent pet-sitter on this whole forsaken planet.’ Hound doesn’t know if she even actually knows that he’s a clone. But it’s good credits, and Mister Floofles isn’t that bad as long as you let him in wherever he wants to go. Most of the time he just follows around the mastiffs and does what they do—he eats their food and everything—but sometimes he wants to wander.”

As if to prove his point, Mister Floofles yawned, stretched, and hopped down off of Mini’s bunk. He trotted across the room and with a little wiggle and a leap that seemed like it should have broken those twig thin legs, sprang back up onto Bly’s bunk, where he curled up in a little circle with his tail tucked over his nose and started snoring. Bly whimpered.

“Go to sleep,” Javik said. Raven grunted in agreement.

Mini pouted. “Aw, I wanted him to sleep with me. Guess he likes you.” With that, he laid back down, and was asleep in seconds.

“No, please take him,” Bly said. Mini didn’t stir.

“You’re fine,” Javik said, and then he was asleep as well.

“Help?” Bly tried.

Wolffe, who had been mostly quiet, looked at Raven. “Will he bite him?”

“He’s never bit anyone who wasn’t asking for it,” Raven said. “He’ll be fine.” And with those parting words, Raven fell asleep, too.

“Define asking for it,” Bly said. “Raven? Raven?!”

Wolffe looked between Raven and Bly. “If it wasn’t fine, he’d say so. Go to sleep.”

“He said he’d chew his way in. Like, through metal?” Bly’s voice was going very high pitched.

Cody looked at Bly, looked at the other cadets, and then laid back down to try to fall asleep again. None of them had the lights-off kind of ability that seemed to be universal in the Guard, but he was tired enough that he thought it wouldn’t take him very long to drop off. Rex had already buried himself in his blanket again. Before he turned over, Cody saw Wolffe sliding back under his blanket.