The traffic lights blurred against the windshield as the rain hit the glass, filling the car with the quiet sound. Rex's fingers tightened slightly around the steering wheel, his eyes focused on the road.

The school had called mid-training op. Not a disciplinary report. Not a failing grade or a fight in the hallway. No- a medical incident. One they assumed he already knew about. One the social worker had apparently “forgotten” to mention.

He clenched his jaw, eyes flicking to the rearview mirror before returning to the road. It figured. From the moment his sibling had arrived with nothing but a beat-up duffel and a few closed-off glances, it had been a mix of missing information, half-truths, and neglected records. The state hadn’t exactly bent over backward to make things easier- not when you were one of Jango Fett’s many forgotten kids dumped into the system.

At least, General Skywalker and Commander Tano hadn’t questioned his sudden exit from training. They’d just nodded and told him to go. But the pit in his stomach hadn’t left since.

He glanced briefly at the passenger seat again, where they sat quietly, arms wrapped around their backpack. He didn’t push yet. The kid had been through enough today, and Rex knew better than to bark orders like he was back on base. But he needed answers. Important things like this couldn't be brushed to the side.

"You alright?" he asked, voice steady, low. Not quite soft, but close. He didn’t expect more than a nod, and that’s what he got.

A few blocks passed in silence. Finally, he shifted lanes, signaled, and let the next words come slower.

"Listen, I need you to be straight with me." His eyes stayed on the road, but his tone shifted- gentler, careful. "I wasn’t told anything. Not in your file. Not by your social worker."

He exhaled, the tension in his shoulders refusing to let go. "So you’re going to have to tell me what they didn’t. I’m not mad, alright? Just need to know what I’m dealing with. So I can help."