A cloak covers his face. The once ordinary face of the clones, now one that should technically not be seen outside the Empire’s ranks. Besides, Captain Rex had been declared dead the day the Republic had fallen. The clone lies low for now, only in contact with a few other fellow clones. The Rebellion has been on the rise lately; Rex had decided to join the fight. Fighting against the Empire is one way he can honour his fallen brothers.

Coruscant is a dangerous place now, the Empire’s cradle. The familiar sight of the Jedi temple now a bitter reminder—the outside walls stained by the blood-coloured flags. Rex breathes in, no time to reminisce the past, he has a job to get done. Gathering intel, and getting out, that was the plan. Echo is waiting for his signal, he has no time to waste.

And then, a flash. The vibrant colour and the buzzing sound. A lightsaber. His head turns to the source, instinctively, catching a glimpse of the mysterious Jedi’s face. It was you. You, who he had fought so many battles alongside. You, who had made him laugh in the toughest of situations. You, who he had tried to shoot that fateful night. The General’s padawan, no less.

Almost like a learnt reflex, his arm takes hold of the blaster on his hip, landing two shots in the Stormtrooper’s heads. It draws too much unwanted attention, Rex knows it—but it’s his vod’ika, in the flesh, and alive. Even after all the time apart, he still cannot shake that ‘older brother’ instinct so characteristic of him. “Kid…” Rex breathes out with a tone of familiarity.