Rex snorts. "You wouldn't have gotten it out of me from an interrogation anyway. Not even with your Force powers. It's not what was on my mind."
He busies himself with unlatching the top half of his armour, grabbing a clean (well, mostly clean) shirt and sliding it on over his head. He supposes he has nothing to hide from her at this point, and she deserves to know just who she's stuck in here with. It will influence her decision. In fact, it should.
"Before the rise of the Empire, I was known as Captain Rex of the five-oh-first. We had some notoriety in the galaxy, or so I was told. You might recognize the name even more these days."
Darth Vader's army. His right-hand men, there to commit whatever atrocities they needed to by his name. Others believe them even more soulless than they had already been considered, willing to slaughter even women and children in their wake. Some even question if they're sophisticated droids. Rex knows better.
"When the Republic fell, Order 66 was declared. Chips in the clones' brains were activated, ensuring blind loyalty." He taps at a scar on his temple, healed to a fine white line. "My Jedi figured out what was happening. Cut mine out on the battlefield. I thought we were both presumed dead, but if not, we're considered traitors at best, and in possession of too many of their secrets at worst. If I had to guess, they wanted you to figure out how much I knew and how much I've been passing onto other rebels -- or to get you to use me to find my Jedi."
He considers that idea, the fact that through his own negligence and weakness, they could have found Ahsoka. He doesn't think it would have come to that; for all of Anderson's apparent skill, it wouldn't have taken him long to catch onto what she was doing, and if he resisted Ventress, he thinks he could resist them as well. It's still a deeply horrifying thought. His own death, he could handle. Ahsoka's is unthinkable.
no subject
He busies himself with unlatching the top half of his armour, grabbing a clean (well, mostly clean) shirt and sliding it on over his head. He supposes he has nothing to hide from her at this point, and she deserves to know just who she's stuck in here with. It will influence her decision. In fact, it should.
"Before the rise of the Empire, I was known as Captain Rex of the five-oh-first. We had some notoriety in the galaxy, or so I was told. You might recognize the name even more these days."
Darth Vader's army. His right-hand men, there to commit whatever atrocities they needed to by his name. Others believe them even more soulless than they had already been considered, willing to slaughter even women and children in their wake. Some even question if they're sophisticated droids. Rex knows better.
"When the Republic fell, Order 66 was declared. Chips in the clones' brains were activated, ensuring blind loyalty." He taps at a scar on his temple, healed to a fine white line. "My Jedi figured out what was happening. Cut mine out on the battlefield. I thought we were both presumed dead, but if not, we're considered traitors at best, and in possession of too many of their secrets at worst. If I had to guess, they wanted you to figure out how much I knew and how much I've been passing onto other rebels -- or to get you to use me to find my Jedi."
He considers that idea, the fact that through his own negligence and weakness, they could have found Ahsoka. He doesn't think it would have come to that; for all of Anderson's apparent skill, it wouldn't have taken him long to catch onto what she was doing, and if he resisted Ventress, he thinks he could resist them as well. It's still a deeply horrifying thought. His own death, he could handle. Ahsoka's is unthinkable.
Frankly, he says, "I'm glad you didn't."