Fake Deathes // Clone mini imagines
Rex knew the moment General Skywalker entered the room, that something was wrong. He was too tense, and the younger togrutan Jedi trailing behind him had abandoned her usual carefree smile for an uncertain look of hesitation.
Everyone in the room noticed, Rex could feel the tension rising in his brothers. The chatter of happy conversations slowly died down as clone heads turned to watch the Jedi walked closer to them. As the talking decreased, nervous fidgeting increased. That’s when Rex realized you, the resident special agent, his amazing girlfriend, wasn’t to be seen. He knew full and well that the rest of your team had arrived last night. Rex had assumed you were among the crowd that were immediately shuffled into debriefing rooms.
“Men, I have some bad news for you.” Skywalker paused, making eye contact with each soldier, but the Captain could feel Ahsoka’s eyes linger on him. “Agent (Y/L/N), was declared missing in action on her team’s arrival last night. After very extensive debriefs, I’m saddened to announce that our special tasks agent, (Y/N) (Y/L/N), has been killed in action.”
Rex felt his heart shatter, but he couldn’t let his men see him come undone. He tensed every muscle in his, stood rigidly straight, jaw clenched, with his eyes staring straight at the General. For once, the General wasn’t so easy to read. He didn’t look sad. He looked troubled and so did his Padawan. Both Jedi glanced to Rex, feeling the despair in his force signature.
That was the first night Rex had gotten blackout drunk. So drunk, Fives and Echo had to drag his ass back to the barracks when the bartender cut him off. Rex was one of five people who had ever been completely cut off.
Back at the barracks, Fives and Echo had pleaded Cody to help convince Obi-Wan, Anakin, and Ahsoka to leave Rex alone for night. They couldn’t let the generals and commander see their respected Captain like this. Angry drunk, yelling at and cursing everything, punching and kicking walls.
The next morning, Kix had to bandage up bloody knuckles and administer pain meds. It wasn’t a good morning for the 501st. Most clones knew of the Captain’s relationship with the agent, but no one knew how to console the Captain. He lost the one thing that kept him fighting.
After a week and a half of this behavior, Anakin had enough. Ahsoka could swear up and down he muttered, “Fuck the Jedi council, this is just cruel.”
Marching into the clone barracks, Anakin ignored every trooper as they scrambled to attention. Ahsoka jogged after him, spouting “Attease.”es and “as you were.”eS.
Finally, the Jedi burst into his quarters. The Captain didn’t jump to attention, didn’t even seem to notice their arrival from his position, sitting on the edge of his bed- head held in his hands. Ahsoka had never seen any clone look so disheveled. Rex hadn’t shaved in a while and was a few days past a five o clock shadow. Creating a scraggly barely there beard. His normally well kept bleached, buzzed hair was looking worse for wear too. His natural black roots were coming through and the normally buzzed look was growing a little shaggy. And the worst were his eyes when he finally looked up. The usually golden tinted brown eyes, seemed dull. Dark shadows under both made the Jedi wonder if he actually slept in the past few days. The bags accentuated the shadows and added several years-decades- to his appearance.
“Rex, I need you to come with us. That’s an order.” Anakin commanded, trying to keep the sympathy out of his voice. As much as Rex wanted to say no, he knew he was still a soldier and had to follow orders.
“Yes, sir.” Was mumbled as the captain began to click armor into place and placed his helmet under his arm.
A very awkward and silent walk later, the 501st trio were in a dark comms room. “What’s this about, sirs?”
“It’s about (y/n). Rex we know you were…. close.. with her. We also know about the slump you’ve been in.” Anakin answered gingerly. Rex was stunned to silence, no idea what to say.
“And while I’m not supposed to tell you this, (Y/N) is not dead. She’s is deep cover in separatist controlled space. Which is why it was imperative that news spread that she died. I heavily disagreed with the council on their decision to announce her death to the public like they did, but nevertheless. I’m sorry we put you through that pain.” Anakin explained, but ended lamely with Rex still looking as sad as before with a twinge of anger. Ahsoka quickly interjected.
“Which is why we set up a comms transmission so you could talk to her!” The commander added, covering her anxious tone with a forced happy one.
The comm’s machine beeped, Anakin pressed a few buttons before speaking, “That’ll be her now. We’ll leave you to it. C’mon, Snips.”
A moment later, a hologram sprung up showing you. He was speechless as he looked at the blue colored hologram. Regardless of the blue tones, he could see your disguise. Your hair was cut differently and definitely a different color, or maybe it was a wig, behind thick glasses you were wearing some kind of colored contacts, and you’re makeup was done differently.
But you were still you, and you were giving him a weird look, “Rex? What are you- how did- Rex, honey, you look awful.”
Rex swallowed thickly, watching as you periodically check over your shoulder, “I thought you were dead, no reason to look good anymore.”
“Rex, I’m sorry, the chancellor himself put me on the assignment and swore me to secrecy. I couldn’t disobey direct orders, you know that.” You explained softly.
“I would have done the same thing, but dear god, what I felt when I thought I lost you… I felt like I was dying- getting ripped apart.” He confessed. His fingers were twitching; he wanted to touch you, hold you, tangle his hands in your hair-anything to prove you were real.
“I’m so sorry, Rex. I really am. That’s not what I wanted.” You choked out, on the verge of tears. That’s the last thing Rex wanted. You were checking over your shoulder more often now and Rex knew it was risky for you to stay in communications that long.
“I know, just be careful. When can I see you again?” He asked hopefully. You gave a sympathetic smile.
“I check in every three weeks so you’ll have to talk to Anakin. I’m using throw away comms.” You explained. “I don’t want to, but I need to go.”
Rex didn’t want to see you go again. “I know. I don’t want to either. But please be careful, don’t do anything I wouldn’t let you do.”
“I wouldn’t get anything done, baby.” You laughed through the tears. “I love you. This will turn the tide, I promise.”
“Go be amazing. I’ll see you on the other side of the war.” He smiled, reaching a hand up to your hologram, as if he could touch his hand to yours.
“I’ll see you on the other side of the war.” You nodded, placing your hand up.
His hand slipped through yours like water; then you were gone.
He rewinded the transmission footage again.
“For the republic!” You cried. Wolffe cringed. He knew you wouldn’t say shit like that. Because as much as you supported the war effort you had told him many times about:
How you “despised this intergalactic pissing contest that really only boils down to money problems and hurt pride.”
Your words not his. Another reason is that whenever you did something overly stupid you always said, “Be careful, boys.”
Followed by a wink, smirk, and whatever stupid, reckless thing you were doing to give Wolffe a heart attack. But in the video, you’re movements were choppy, you weren’t smiling, and you weren’t sassing off as usual.
“Commander, I hate to give up, but there’s no way Agent (Y/L/N) could have survived that blast.” There was even something off about the way the General spoke to him. It was forced and it sounded like he didn’t actually believe what he was saying.
“General. (Y/N)… she’d never say something like that. And watch the way she moves, she’s choppy almost robotic in her movements. Sir, you know (Y/N) is too quick and graceful for that to catch her.” Wolffe analyzed, not once taking his eyes off the hologram video.
“Wolffe, I want her to be alive as much as you do, but she was already injured and then caught in an extremely violent explosion.” Plo responded, placing a hand of the clone in denial. Wolffe shook his head.
“We never found a body.” Wolffe tried again, holding on to any evidence you were alive. His hands gripped the table so hard his knuckles turned white.
“Wolffe, there wouldn’t be a body. The blast would have disintegrated everything.” The general told him. Wolffe hardened his jaw and stood up straight.
“You’re right sir. It’s still a shame.” He sighed, defeated. He desperately hoped the general couldn’t pick up the shattered pieces of his heart as he turned and exited the room.
Upon entering his private quarters, he unleashed all the emotions he hid from the general. He punched and kicked the wall all while letting out a sub primal yell. He was angry and sad. He wanted to blame someone. He wanted to do badly put blame on someone else so he could go out and hurt them for taking you. But the only person to blame was you, and it was rude to blame the dead. Besides, Wolffe never could stay mad at you.
Once the wall had taken its beating, he moved to his bed and wailed on his pillow. Between hits, he almost missed a small holo-transmitter. The incoming and outgoing call buttons were taped over, only leave the play-existing message button. He looked at the transmitter quizzically and then picked up his pillow. Lo and Behold, a note laid pristinely folded underneath. He unfolded it and read it, mumbling the contents as he did.
I know you’re probably really angry right now. Just, press play.
So he pressed play, a hologram of you popped up and began talking.
“Hey Wolffe, if your watching this, it’s because the chancellor has decided to send me into a deep cover mission. For that to happen, special agent: (y/n) (y/l/n,” she paused to glance up at the camera, “has to die. I have to die so…” another pause for her to squint at a datapad- probably a briefing file, “Anatovi Crastillia from Garen llV can become a separatist citizen. They’re gonna tell you I’m dead, but I can’t bear the guilt of lying to you and making you feel that pain. I feel silly even recording this, but you deserved to know. I don’t know how long this mission will take, but I’ll think of you every minute. Wolffe, I love you so much.”
You had to pause for another few minutes to breathe and get you composure. “Please don’t hate me, I didn’t want to trick you. Please be careful. Tell the boys I said to be careful.” With that she reached to turn off the camera, but hesitated.
“I love you. So, so, much.” With that, she turned off the recording. When the hologram fizzled out, the holo-transmitter popped up a stationary image. A photograph of the two of you. Wolffe was grimacing to the camera while you smiled broadly beside him. He was supporting most of your weight, your uniform ripped and had definitely seen better days. Your face was smudged with ash and a little bit of blood, but you couldn’t of looked happier. It was the day Wolffe told you he loved you after you almost got killed. The commander shook his head at the photograph but saved it to his own Holopad. He’d miss you, but that didn’t mean he’d stop fighting for you.
Unlike the above, you weren’t some special agent with an important mission to save the galaxy. You were an engineer with 108th legion who heard the wrong thing at the right time.
When you were with the 108th, you happened upon secrets that neither the republic or confederacy knew. You only told the Jedi council for them to decide what to do with it. They decided it was best to keep it within the council, but that didn’t stop the separatists from wanting the information at any cost.
So to keep you safe and still make use of your engineering skills, they relocated you to the Rishi moon outpost. You’d seen many troopers come and go, but you and the sergeant stayed constant. And then domino squad came along.
You made no pretenses from the beginning. You told them that you were only good at fixing things and the only reason you were important to the Republic was because you were in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Fives liked that. It made him feel more secure that he didn’t have to worry about you running into battle and getting killed. It was easy for the two of you to fall in love on the Rishi moon. You were together all the time. Then the separatists caught wind of your location.
Conveniently located on a base they were already planning on invading. All the more reason to come. So they came, killed several troopers, and put you, the domino squadron, Rex, and Cody through hell.
But you had long standing orders, from the very first day you had the information. If you were found, fake your death and when it was safe, hightail it out of there.
So when the base exploded, you ‘accidentally’ separated yourself from the group and cried as you ran as far as possible from the republic outpost. You knew Fives and Echo thought you dead, and the guilt was crushing you. But nevertheless, you kept running to the only other form of civilization on the Rishi moon: a refueling depot.
From there, you stowed away on a ship and repeated the process from planet to planet. It took roughly two months to get to Coruscant with out blowing cover and without stumbling into a war zone.
Once on Coruscant, all you had to do was make it to the Jedi temple. Sadly, you efforts were hopeless.
As you rushed through the busy streets of the planet, you kept your head down- flinching anytime you saw any kind of droid. Finally you breezed by the clone barracks. Six more blocks. Then, it fell apart. You ran face first into a troopers chest.
You literally just bounced off of him, falling on your butt in the process, but he didn’t even stumble. You still tried to hide your face, “I’m really sorry, sir, just late for a meeting.”
He watched you as you stuttered out the excuse. You finally looked up to him and realized it was an arc trooper…. with a rather familiar handprint on the chest of his armor.
“Echo, what’s the hold- holy kriff is that who I think it is?” Another Arc trooper approached, your heart fluttered at the possibility that it was Fives. The brothers popped off their helmets.
It was him, no mistaking that tattoo on his temple.
“(y/n)?” Fives gasped. Kneeling down in front of you, he offered you his hand, “I thought you were dead… everyone thinks you’re dead. How… how are you here? We thought you died with Hevy.”
“I’m sorry. I had orders.” You answered lamely. The arc trooper armor had your focus. Then you realized you were doing more staring than answering, “I’m so, so sorry Fives. The day I got the god forsaken information, I was given orders to ‘appear dead’ if ever found.”
“I understand, but, god, I missed you so much.” He whispered pulling you up and into a warm embrace- well, warm and stiff, clone armor was never good for hugs.
“Can you take me too the Jedi temple? I’m like two months late. Also, I’d like to hear how you got these.” You said, motioning to the specific ARC armor pieces and then tugging on his kama.
He bent over slightly to whisper, “I’ll tell you. Then, I’ll show you just how fast we can get it off.”
“I should have come back sooner.” You gulped, blushing and giggling- it was as though you had never left. Echo had breezed off moments ago, shaking his head.
“Yeah, you should have.” Fives agreed, pressing a kiss to your temple.
Guess who is terrible at following prompts.