Saga Eye of the Storm: Bastion, Order 66, OCs, romance, adventure. Completed 12/01/14

@gracesonnet: Trax and Crest are generally willing to poke fun at their brother, so I'm sure they're not above a few rounds of the "K-I-S-S-I-N-G" song. Thank you so much for the comment! ​

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Chapter Fifteen: The Center Cannot Hold​

1084 days ABG

“Master Altis, I appreciate your concern, but I cannot shirk my duty to the Jedi Order, especially now.” Honi's voice was pitched low, but her words were fierce as she leveled her gaze on the Jedi Master. The three Jedi were huddled together in the far corner of the infirmary, seemingly alone in their own conversation, though Kali could feel Stonewall's attention upon her. Beyond them, the clones were engrossed in a discussion of their own; after a few minutes Zara and the cadets left the room, Weave, Milo and Traxis following a bit later.

Altis shook his head. “I'm not suggesting you 'shirk' anything. I just think that it would be unwise to rush into a situation like this without more knowledge of what's going on, particularly if Coruscant has become a battleground.”

Honi's mouth was drawn in a tight line. “The Jedi need us right now, Master. But I don't suppose you would understand such a thing-”

“Honi.” Kalinda tried to keep her tone even, but firm. “We're all Jedi, here. And there's no need for that kind of talk, especially when Master Altis has shown us such kindness.” She held the younger woman's gaze. “No one in this room has any intention of abandoning their duty, but more information is always helpful. You can't cure a symptom until you know the illness, correct?” As expected, the comparison seemed to mollify her former apprentice somewhat, though Kali could still sense the red-haired woman's impatience.

“I know, Kalinda. I just...” Honi sighed and her jaw was tight. “I just want to help.”

“And we will.” Kali thought of her promise to Obi-Wan and felt a flare of guilt. I'm coming back, my friend, but I don't think it's in the way that you hoped.

This realization made her glance at the Jedi Master. For a moment he almost seemed afraid; there was a shadow that crossed over his face before his features smoothed. “This feels wrong,” he said, almost to himself. At the looks from the women he shook his head. “The situation with the Chancellor...it feels off somehow.”

“It's war,” Honi said in a sharp tone. “Something's always wrong. What matters is how we deal with it.” Here she paused and gave Kalinda a frown. “Speaking of which; you're returning here, then?”

Kalinda nodded. “I am. There are some matters that will need to be taken care of. After that...well, we'll see. I know it's not a perfect plan,” she added, lifting her hand at Honi's look. “But I'm doing the best I can.” Hopefully it will be enough.

They talked for a few more minutes, hammering out specifics and such, before Altis excused himself to confer with some of his students. Kalinda wanted to speak with Stonewall in private, but Honi refused to let Crest be moved. “I can knock him out for you instead,” she offered, lifting her hand.

“No, Honi,” Kali said with a sigh. “That won't...” She trailed off as the red-haired Jedi ignored her and sent a ripple of Force-energy to the bald clone, whose eyes grew bleary just before his head lolled on the pillow and he began snoring. Her former Padawan flashed Kali a knowing look before stepping out of the room, murmuring something about checking on the Wayfarer, thus leaving Kali and Stone in relative privacy.

Stonewall's voice was quiet as he looked at her. “You're going to do it, aren't you?”

She moved to sit beside him on the sleep-couch. “I haven't made up my mind, yet. But there are some....things I need to look into that I'm just not sure the Council would allow.”

“Like?”

Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out the small, leather-bound flimsi and handed it to him. As he thumbed through it, she spoke. “Master Altis gave it to me; it belonged to my mother while she studied with him.”

At this he looked up at her, his brow furrowed. “Are you certain?” He glanced back down at the journal with skepticism.

“I haven't had a chance to read but a few bits and pieces,” she said, reaching for the volume and indicating a page at the front. “But see? That's her: Kamala Riss. She mentions my father quite a bit.” She paused and thought over Altis' words before she added: “This may be the beginnings of the answer to why you can use the Force, and why it's linked with love, for me...there's a passage here-” she indicated another page that she'd dog-eared. “-that leads me to think that it has to do with her.”

Stonewall scanned the passage, but shook his head. “I don't understand, Kali. This doesn't make any sense to me....” He exhaled and looked back at her. “Perhaps you can just take a leave of absence, and we can both look into the matter of your family and the Force.”

His tone was hopeful but she gave a slow shake of her head. “There's more to this...situation than a leave of absence can fix, even if Jedi were permitted such things. I doubt they'll want to let me investigate my family, though they might let me go if it pertains to why you can use the Force. I don't know. That's why I want to talk to them.”

“Okay, Kali. That's...that's okay. But I won't let you go back to the Core without me,” he replied in a tight voice. “The army, the Jedi, the Republic...in the end none of it matters for me, as long as I can be where you are. You're worth fighting for, to my last breath, more so than anything else I've ever known. I hope you know that.” His tone softened at the end of his speech.

“I do.” For a moment they looked at each other and she felt that familiar-but-strange longing that whispered in her mind at his steady gaze. More. There is more to life than what you always thought. She wanted to kiss him, to curl up beside him and forget the rest of the conversation that she knew was coming, but it would be futile, in the end. “Stonewall....”

But he was looking at the journal again, shaking his head at it as though it were an unruly knot that he needed to untangle. “If her last name was Riss and your father's was Ki, where did 'Halcyon' come from?”

She shifted closer to him as best she could on the small couch. “My mother was Corellian. It's a fairly common surname in that system – there are even some prominent Jedi who share it, though we're not related – and they wanted me to have a degree of anonymity.” At least, that's what Jonas told me. It seems like that's true enough, at any rate.

He studied the journal for a few more minutes before setting it in his lap and looking at her. “And you don't think that the Council will allow you to look into this. Is that why you want to leave the Jedi Order?” His voice was very careful and she could tell that he was examining her every word.

“I'm not leaving the Jedi, Stone,” she replied. “I just have questions....too many questions, I suppose. I don't know that they'd understand. But I have to try. If the war's end is imminent, then perhaps I can look into everything sooner than I hope. I don't want to abandon my duty, but I must know the truth.”

“Kali, I understand that. But...” He exhaled and ran his hand over his hair. “That's not the real reason. You've been upset with the Council ever since we went to Kamino. This matter with your mother feels like an excuse.” His eyes on her missed nothing and she felt her stomach tightening. He nodded. “I knew it.”

She studied her hands as they laced together in her lap, and tried to gather her thoughts. Finally she looked back at him and took a deep breath. “You're right, Stone. There are some...things I need to sort out: I need to talk to Mace and I promised Obi-Wan I'd come back to the Temple. I want to give them the benefit of the doubt, but...I don't think the Council knows what they're doing, right now. I think....” The thoughts she'd been having over and over since their mission had begun were ceaselessly worrying at her brain.

“What, Kali?” His voice was gentle and he put his hand over hers.

“What kind of value can be put to a life – any life? Is one life worth more than another by virtue of its creation or its purpose? Is the life of a Jedi worth more than that of a clone?” She met his eyes and noted the surprise in them. “I've been thinking this over and over....to me, they're the same. They're worth the same. But to the Council....” She frowned. “They've sent children into war. Granted, Zara wasn't on the front lines – though I've heard of other Padawans who are – but in the end she's no different than the clone boys. They're all being used the same way. Like you and your brothers are being used.”

He shook his head. “It's war, Kali. Things are exponentially harder then they would be otherwise. It's not a pretty reality, but there it is.”

“War shouldn't justify every action. The Jedi Code has taught me to respect all forms of life. But it doesn't feel like the Code is being honored when I hear about your brothers being sent to their deaths by the thousands, when I see children like Zara thrust into the middle of a warzone, or when I realized that those boys were abandoned by the very entity that they were created to fight for.” Her voice was quiet but very, very calm and she could feel the anger was simmering beneath her sorrow, so she tried to cast the feeling aside.

Stonewall absorbed her words and was silent for several minutes while he thought them over. Finally he looked back at her. “I agree with you about Zara and the lads; it isn't right to send children into battle. I never really thought about it before this mission, but I see that now. However,” he paused again and took a deep breath. “None of those things mean that the Jedi don't care about the clones. In the end, we're all doing our duty to the Republic.”

But she felt a thrill of anger rise to the surface, sharp and sudden. “No, Stone. It comes down to the fact that they're using the clones – you and your brothers – without consideration or compassion. The situation with the boys proves that, and goes against everything that the Jedi Order stands for, everything that I've worked for and believed in my entire life.” At some point her hands had started shaking.

“Kali....” He sighed and shut his eyes for a moment to gather his thoughts. When he looked back at her, his gaze was filled with remorse. “That's not how I – or most of the clones, by the way – see it. Doesn't my opinion matter?”

It was so hard to say what she had to say, but her resolve had long ago solidified to a crystalline point of clarity and she could not keep the words back any longer. “In this instance, Stonewall, you don't have the perspective that I do. I wish it weren't so, but it's the truth.”

For a moment he was absolutely still and she could feel the wound her words had inflicted. “You've never played that card before,” he replied at last in a quiet voice. “I didn't think you would.” They were silent for a few minutes before he spoke again. “It may not matter anymore if this really will be the end of the war.”

Though she could tell that he'd tried to push her words to the side and make his expression hopeful, she could detect a lingering fear that went deeper than anything she'd felt from him before, one that superseded even his reaction to what she'd said.

“What is it?” Kali tried to keep her voice gentle.

Honey-brown eyes met hers; within them she couldn't discern a trace of bitterness over her sharp words, for all that she felt she deserved it. “Take me with you when you go to Coruscant.”

“I can't.” She shook her head. “Stone....we have to leave tomorrow. You're not ready to travel. You know that.”

He shook his head; taking her hands in his, he seemed to reach within himself and gather some hidden strength that she had never seen. “Kali,” he said, his voice low and very urgent. “Kali, please take me with you. I'm begging you...please.” As if on a whim he embraced her and she felt fear and agitation shuddering off of him in waves.

It was stronger than everything she'd felt from him before and she pulled back to study his face. “Why? What's going on?”

She could see in his eyes that he was hiding something, though he only said: “It's just....a feeling I have.”

What is going on with him? There was silence for several moments before she shook her head, working to keep her voice firm. “No. You have to stay here.” At this he looked more terrified than she'd ever seen him. “Stone...what's wrong? Why won't you tell me?”

He shook his head. “It's nothing.” But he would not meet her eyes, and his voice wavered, reaching the breaking point.

“Stone,” she said, putting a hand on his cheek and giving him a reassuring smile. “Whatever it is, it will to be okay. I love you...don't be afraid.”

*​

It was just a dream....it isn't real. It isn't a vision of things to come. He tried to reach inside himself for calm, but it eluded him as he embraced her again, ignoring the sear of pain in his body with the movement. How can I tell her? How can I tell her if she leaves....I'm afraid I'll never see her again? He held her as close as he could. Finally she pulled back again and studied him.

“Stonewall, I wish you'd tell me what's going on.”

Her voice was earnest and he could see in her eyes that she was worried for him, and if he hadn't been so terrified he would have found the notion laughable. He took a deep breath and forced himself to meet her gaze. “It was a dream I had.” Saying the words aloud sounded silly, but the images that reeled through his mind were anything but. She motioned for him to continue and he did, after a breath. “You were killed in front of me – by clones – and there was nothing I could do.” It took a moment, but he was able to project some of the dream to her in order to relay its severity.

She was silent but he could see her turning the words and images over in her mind. Perhaps now she'll see why I can't let her go without me. A seedling of hope struggled up from within the depths of his spirit.

Only to wither at her next words. “Stonewall...dreams are just that: dreams. No matter how unsettling they are, they rarely show us the future. Even with the Force, few Jedi have the gift of true prophecy. The images you saw were most likely just reflections of your own fears being cast back at you.” Kalinda leaned to him and wrapped her arms around his neck; when she spoke, he could feel the vibration of her voice against his skin. “I understand. I've had horrible nightmares and visions before – some that still haunt me – but in the end, they aren't a reality and you have to set them aside.”

They were silent for a moment while he considered her words, though ultimately he found that he couldn't believe her. It was just too real. “You were killed by brothers, Kali,” he said, embracing her tighter. “Do you understand what that means to me? Do you understand why I have to go with you?” I'm the only one who can keep you safe. I don't know why, but I do know that I'm the only one you can trust.

“Stonewall...” A deep exhale escaped her as she leaned back to meet his eyes. “I can think of half a dozen psychological reasons why you saw what you did. But I also know I can't convince you that it's just a dream,” she added, touching his cheek and giving him a gentle smile. “Dreams are your mind's way of sorting out all of its fears and doubts, of processing and categorizing information. Even if they linger, they're not real. They're not a window to the future.”

I want to believe her. More than anything. He swallowed and shook his head even as he spoke the next words. “Be that as it may, I just have a bad feeling about this.”

“So do I,” she replied, which caught him off guard, until she continued. “So do Honi and Master Altis. But – like you said – it's war, Stone. Something bad is always happening.” Her smile was tender and her voice was soft, but he never felt so helpless as he did when he saw the determined look in her eyes. “I'll be fine. I'll be back sooner than you know. In the meantime...” She gave a weighted pause and regarded him. “I have something to run by you.”

He swallowed his fear, pushed it down within his gut. It's just a dream. It means nothing. “What's that?”

She sat back and beamed at him. “Training with a Jedi Master.” Her grin was wide and he tried to understand how he was supposed to be happy about such a thing.

“I don't want anyone else to train me, Kali.”

“We're on a praxeum ship, Stone,” she said as if those words meant anything to him in the wake of what she was going to do, of what was going to be done to her. “You should take advantage of this. He offered to train you himself. It's a great honor....you can learn so much from Master Altis.”

He took a moment to collect himself, turning her words over in his mind. “The man who gave you this book? The man who called you to tell you about the clone cadets?” He couldn't keep the sharp edge out of his tone and she looked affronted.

“He's unusual, Stonewall, but he doesn't have some master plan to steal me away from the regular Jedi. He and my father were friends; it's conceivable that my parents met here. And as for the clone cadets....he knew that I'd be concerned. And it's no secret that I have a good and prominent friend on the Jedi Council.” She tilted her head as she regarded him. “You don't really think that he....?”

“It's just odd. It just seems like....he's feeding into your doubts.” Stonewall shook his head.

Her eyes narrowed. “I'm not a child. I think I'd know if someone was trying to manipulate me.”

“I didn't say he was trying to manipulate you, but it seems awfully convenient that he's giving you the journal now. Why not the last time you saw him, on Semele? Or before that, even? Why now?”

“I'm not such an asset that he would try to recruit me,” she said. “In fact, it's widely known that Master Altis doesn't seek new recruits....people find their own ways to him. Yoda would never allow him to stay in the Order if he thought that the Altisian Jedi were a....a threat of some kind.” She met his gaze and he wanted so much to believe that she was right.

Perhaps I'm being paranoid. Maybe I was more injured or out of it than I thought. I couldn't sense any malice in the man, either. “I just...something feels wrong.” Another exhale of breath and he shook his head. “I suppose he seems like a decent enough person. I'm just concerned for you.” With these words he saw her in his mind's eye: lying at his feet, riddled with blaster-fire, her face blank and bloodied. He shook his head and rubbed at his temple as if it would wipe the dream from his memory.

“Are you okay? Are you in pain?” She placed a hand on his shoulder and he could feel that she was sending him a tendril of comforting Force-energy.

It was more than he could stand. “Kali, take me with you. Please.”

She hesitated. But. “I'm sorry. Your life is too valuable to me to risk it on an errand like this.”

“Kali...”

“You have to trust me,” she said at once, shaking her head. “I know it's hard, Stone, but there it is. You have to trust that I'll return to you, because I will. I promise.”

Dread sliced through him at the word promise but he pushed it aside. “I do trust you, Kali. I just don't want to lose you.” That's not a feeling I can just let go of, as much as I know I should be able to.

But her demeanor had changed; he could practically see the weight that had settled over her shoulders like a mantle. “As you yourself said not so long ago, I'm in command. Everyone that we've collected – your brothers, Honi and Zara, and the cadets – are my responsibility now, and I have a duty to all of them.” Her voice had a finality to it and – as if to emphasize the point – she sat up, stood and stepped away from him. “Stonewall, I'm giving you a direct order: you are to remain here and train with Master Djinn Altis in the ways of the Force, until I return.”

I, not we. As he looked at her, he didn't see the wry, dark-haired woman with whom he'd fallen in love.

He saw a Jedi Knight. Cool, impassive and detached.

The sight frightened him like no other, for he knew that as a Jedi, she would be more than willing to sacrifice herself for the greater good; as a clone trooper, it was a sentiment he'd once accepted, even shared. As a soldier, I understand that. But I'm not just a soldier any longer; I'm also a human being who loves her. More than anything. After everything that's happened I don't know how I'm supposed to let her go.

Some sarcastic part of his brain urged him to salute as he held her gaze, but he kept his body still, unable to find the words that would make her stay. Instead, he nodded. “As you say, General.”

*​

“Commander?”

Zara turned to see No-Name standing nearby; she was floating in the shallow end of the pool, enjoying the feel of being weightless for one last moment before she slipped out of the water and into the drag of air. Before she could speak he took a seat on the steps and motioned her to sit beside him. “What is it, No-Name?”

Something made him grimace. “I never cared about a name, until I met you. Now I think it's something I want.” The words were spoken almost to himself and she wondered if she'd merely picked up on his thoughts. In the next moment he glanced at her. “It's been an honor to work with you, Commander Zara. Thank you for-” He paused again and looked down at the water. “For helping us. My brothers and I. Without you.....” A shudder passed through him and they both cast looks at Levy, who was engrossed in a race with the other boys.

“I didn't really do anything, but I'm glad I could help a little bit.” They sat in silence for a few more minutes, watching the others before she spoke again. “Actually, I should thank you.” At his look of bewilderment she shook her head. “For trusting me. It was scary at first, but now I feel...better.” She inhaled; the action brought her the scent of the water and his warmth beside her, so she grinned at him and he returned the look. “It was nice to have a friend, even for a few days, No-Name.”

His face fell for all that he seemed to try and hide the fact. “I know what you mean, Commander.”

Maybe I should follow Kalinda's example. “Just 'Zara.'” She smiled at him again even as she felt her Master's presence approaching, the Human woman's anxiousness palpable.

No-Name nodded; his hands were tight on his knees he met her eyes. “Goodbye then, Zara.”

“Zara, come on,” Master Tallis called out. “We need to rest. Tomorrow's going to be a long day.”

*​

1085 days ABG

There was no sunrise the next morning on the Chu'unthor, but in the earliest hours of the ship's cycle, Milo boarded the Wayfarer with Kalinda, General Tallis and her Padawan. Master Altis saw them off, along with the rest of his brothers and the clone cadets. Even Crest and the captain managed to hobble over to the hangar, assisted by Traxis and Weave; he could see the effort it cost them to do so, as their faces were pale and their foreheads were beaded with sweat.

Beyond them, the Jedi were saying their farewells to one another, General Altis embracing Kalinda before giving General Tallis and Zara a kind word.

“Blow the durasteel out of any clankers who dare to get in your way,” the scarred clone said to Milo with a smile and a clap on his back.

Milo shook his hand, and Weave's as well before he turned to Crest; before he knew it the bald clone gave him a brief but tight hug, then pulled back and nodded to him in all seriousness. “Be good, Mi. Give the shinies as much hell as you can. You've more than earned the right.”

I'll say. Nodding, Milo turned to the captain, who was watching the Jedi with an unreadable expression. “Thank you for giving me a chance, Captain.”

Stonewall smiled at him. “I'm lucky to have worked with you.” They shook hands and Milo turned to General Tallis and her Padawan, who were making their way aboard the transport. Behind him, he could hear the soft voice of Kalinda as she spoke to Stonewall and as much as he didn't mean to eavesdrop, their conversation caught him off guard.

“I should be back within a week,” the Jedi was saying. “I know that you'll be limited as far as what you can do, but you're in good hands here.” Her voice dropped in pitch; it was only by virtue of the fact that he was standing so close to her that he overheard. “Please don't be upset with me...I'm doing what I have to do.”

Stonewall was quiet a moment before he replied. “Stay safe, Kali.”

General Tallis gave an audible sigh. “Master....” The dark-haired Jedi cast a look at the Wayfarer, then back at the captain with the expression of someone who had much more to say; however, she nodded and slipped past Milo aboard the vessel. Zara activated the hatch and everyone settled in.

Giving the Jedi a sideways glance, Milo cleared his throat. “Would you like to fly?” Kalinda looked startled to hear him speak to her, as if she'd been lost in her own mind, though she nodded and settled into the pilot's seat, while he slid beside her at the nav. The ship was prepped but he made one final check to ensure that everything was as it should be. Once they received clearance he nodded to Kalinda. “Let's go.” At his words, Kalinda maneuvered the Wayfarer out of the docking bay on the Chu'unthor and they were on their way to the Core.

 

I feel like something really terrible is about to happen and I blame it all on the the "ABG" timestamps.

 

@gracesonnet: Trust your gut...and those timestamps. Thanks for the comment! ​

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Chapter Sixteen: Turn Into You ​

1085 days ABG

Had he not been so terrified of what he would see in his dreams, Stonewall would have preferred sleep to wakefulness. So the night after Kali and the others left, the captain decided to try and meditate, as much to clear his brain and keep his calm as to not sleep and therefore allow the horrific visions to encroach. Simple things like standing and walking were still not as easy as he would have liked, but he was able to make his way into an adjacent room in the infirmary in order to get some quiet, as Crest and the others had taken to teaching the cadets – the boys, I suppose, as it doesn't seem like they're going to be cadets any longer – how to play sabacc.

His body was in that transient stage of healing, past the point where bacta had done all it was going to do, but too soon to be considered up to par. As much as he despised the crutches, it was wiser to use them for now than risk injuring himself further, and a part of him was loathe to admit that he really wasn't fit for duty at the moment. Upala had said that he should rest, her lilting accent reminding him of one of the happier times of his life, and rather than refuse her outright he had nodded – anything to get her to leave him alone – as he was not about to sleep. For a while, anyway.

So he meditated.

It was easier than he'd expected, given his mental state, but he chalked it up to the fact that he was growing more and more used to the practice. He sat on a padded chair in a small room of the infirmary, lights dimmed around him, feet flat on the floor, counting to ten on the inhale and counting to ten with his exhale. Inhale, exhale. Again and again and again.

Slowly, he felt calm settling over the broken patches of his mind that were still cracked with loss and regret. But doubt still seeped in. Should I have protested less, or more? Did I only make things harder for her, or should I have done more to prevent her from leaving? Am I right or just completely crazy? Through it all the dream continued to haunt him. Part of him knew that he was in the vicinity of a Jedi Master who could perhaps shed some light on the disturbing vision, but Stonewall was unwilling to go that route quite yet.

But her words about perspective and experience rang in his ears. I never thought she would say such a thing to me. She didn't sound like Kali...she sounded like someone else. He recalled the set of her shoulders when she talked about her responsibility to the others. She's carrying them all, or trying to. I shouldn't be upset with her for saying those things, especially considering all that's happened.

But it still stung. We've never disagreed like that before.

Gradually, he turned his attention away from his mental state and towards his physical well-being, paying particular attention to the areas of his body that had been the most afflicted by injury; his focus sharpened as he sank into a healing trance. At one point, however, he became aware of a gentle rapping on the door, followed by the chime. Rather than respond, he reached out through the Force and laid his awareness against the maker of the noise.

It's one of the lads. The command-cadet. His eyes opened and he lifted his hand, sweeping the door open with an easy motion of his fingers and not even bothering to marvel at how commonplace such things had become. The boy – No-Name – stood over the threshold and looked at him with wide eyes, radiating awe and curiosity, and Stonewall realized that this was the first opportunity he'd had to speak to the younger clone, just the two of them.

“What's up, lad?” Even as Stonewall said the words, he knew that No-Name would not voice his true question, the one that the clone captain could almost see written in the air before his young brother: You and the Jedi...are you in love? How is such a thing possible? He decided to go ahead and answer, anyway. “I think I can guess.”

“Sir?” The younger clone's voice was tentative, but hopeful.

Stonewall leaned forward, carefully, and held the boy's gaze. “You're curious about my relationship with Kalinda, aren't you?”

Again, the younger clone's expression wavered between conflicting emotions, though he only nodded. Stonewall took a deep breath. “I'll make it simple for you, No-Name: we love one another.” The boy's mouth opened and closed; his brows knitted and he was the picture of confusion. Keeping his expression patient, Stonewall wondered if it would ever not shock anyone that a Jedi had managed to fall in love with a clone. I know I shouldn't take it personally, but still...He continued. “Yes, it's real. No, I don't entirely understand it; as a matter-of-fact, it's very often frightening and confusing, for the both of us. But it's there, nonetheless.”

“So...what are you doing in here, sir?”

“Meditating.” He lifted his brow. “I can use the Force, too. Comes with the territory, from what I can tell.” To hell with keeping back information. I don't want to hold anything back, any more. His younger brother nodded as if this made perfect sense, and Stone found himself smiling at the lad. Absorbed the new information, accepted it, and moved on; I think he's the first person who's done so. I like this kid. “Did you have another question?”

No-Name blinked once, then straightened his spine as he replied. “Sir. We were going to get some food from the caf and the others thought you might be hungry.”

Stonewall considered this. He had not eaten since the previous day and while he didn't feel hungry, he knew that the best way to keep up his strength and help his body heal itself included proper meals. At the very least, with Honi gone I can have some nerf-steak. So he nodded to No-Name and made to stand up to rejoin the others; the movement made pain clutch at his legs, and he could not help the hiss of breath that leaped from his throat at the sensation.

The sudden presence of someone smaller beside him was unexpected but not – he realized – unwelcome, and he had to smile to himself as the boy helped him to his feet without a word. “Thank you.”

“No problem, sir.”

The clone captain sighed as they began to limp to the next room. “Just call me Stonewall, or Stone.” I may not be a captain much longer, anyway, if I follow Kali's path. It was not entirely a pleasant thought, as he found that he didn't care for not knowing; however, the notion of spending the rest of his days at the dark-haired woman's side was enough to make his heart a little lighter even as his body weighed so heavily on him right now.

No-Name helped him to the next room, and Stone found that he was pretty hungry, after all.

*​

From her place at the helm, Kalinda frowned at the stars while they receded around the Wayfarer before glancing at Milo again. “Are you certain?”

“Triple-checked it. The Chancellor's been returned safe and sound – by none other than Generals Kenobi and Skywalker – and Count Dooku has been confirmed dead.” Milo watched the stream of intel from the GAR intel bank on the screen before his eyes as he faced the console. Way to go, Kenobi. He'd never had the opportunity to work with Skywalker, but by all accounts the younger man was the most powerful Jedi in the galaxy. Maybe I'll be reassigned to the 501st , he thought with a grin. I guess anything's possible.

But the Jedi beside him didn't seem pleased, though he supposed that could have had nothing to do with the information and more to do with her and the captain's parting words. However, after a moment she took a breath and smiled at him. “Then perhaps the war is really on its way to ending.”

Behind them, General Tallis was listening intently; she had risen from her place at the common-area table where she and the Commander were seated and stood between Kalinda and Milo. “What about General Grievous?”

Milo shook his head. “Escaped.”

The red-haired Jedi frowned and glanced at Kalinda. “It won't end until he's dead; I've heard it said countless times. I suppose they'll send a team after him.” She gave the other Jedi a knowing look. “Obi-Wan and Anakin, I imagine.”

“Very likely. Unless Mace and Yoda want to take a crack at him. Though I hope they send more than just two Jedi...you'd think they'd want to send more Jedi than Grievous has arm-wielding lightsabers.” She grimaced and Milo recalled hearing of multiple Jedi deaths at the hands of the infamous cyborg.

Not to mention the countless brothers he's cut down. I hope they send a legion of Jedi after the chakaar. He sighed and idly drummed his helmet while it rested in his lap, which caused Kalinda to glance at him.

“We left our instruments back at the Chu'unthor. I was going to have a few last sessions with you...I'm sorry, Mi.” She truly sounded regretful, and he wondered how many other Jedi – or anyone, really – would concern themselves with such a thing when it came to a clone.

I don't think I'll get as lucky with another CO as I was with her. He shook his head. “It's okay. I reckon I won't have much time for the tablas anyway...besides, they're yours, Kalinda. I was just using them for a while.”

General Tallis was listening to the exchange with interest and Milo noted that her Padawan had come forward as well. “Why did you did teach them how to play music?”

Kalinda looked thoughtful even as a smile tugged at the edges of her mouth. “It was a way to pass the time, Honi. You know, not everyone is as....talented as you in that area.”

“Talented.” The other woman rolled her eyes even as her Padawan giggled. “What's so funny, my very young apprentice?”

The Nautolan girl bit her lip and shook her head. “I don't know, Master.”

“Oh, I do,” Kalinda said with a grin. “You're terrible, Honi. Possibly the worst musician I've ever met. Aside from being completely tone-deaf, you have no rhythm whatsoever.” She lifted her brow at Milo, who couldn't hide his smile as he slid his eyes to the red-haired woman, who was flushing a rather alluring shade of pink even as she scowled.

However, she managed to recover her composure and raise her chin. “Some things are more important than music, Kalinda.”

The dark-haired woman laughed. “Of course, Honi. But not many.”

*​

The evening of the first day of their journey, Kali had a longing to contact Obi-Wan. It was a sudden, sharp desire whose origin she couldn't place; however, the nature of hyperspace travel made using the long-range comm system on the modest ship impossible, so she decided to try the next best thing. “Honi, would you mind taking the helm for a little while? I'm going to meditate.”

She rose from her seat and watched her former Padawan slide in her place, giving her a sideways glance that was pointed. I shouldn't be surprised; after all, to some Jedi, 'meditate' is usually code for a number of other things entirely. “Keep an eye on her, Milo.” She chuckled to herself at Honi's look of indignation, though she noticed that Milo flushed and was certain to look everywhere except at the Jedi beside him.

I suppose Stonewall and I haven't exactly been the best influence in that department, she thought as she nodded to Zara and made her way to the crew cabins. But it's not wrong for the guys to think they could find love. They're not bound by any edicts of non-attachment like the Jedi – not that I've followed them, either – but it's entirely possible that each of them could meet someone and start a relationship. For as much time as they have, which isn't much, I suppose. It was a bitter thought that she had not yet been able to come to terms with, so she set it aside for the moment.

The room that she and Stone had shared was as she remembered and for a moment she was overcome with a desire to be beside him once more, and regret at how they had parted and at the things that she'd said. Gradually she was able to overcome the feelings as she shucked her boots and sat in the center of their bed, folding her legs beneath her.

After several minutes of quiet breathing she found that her mind was relaxed enough to attempt to reach her friend through the Force. It was difficult, but in the end she was able to touch his familiar presence. Obi-Wan?

Kali? He sounded exhausted, but relieved to hear from her. How are you? I heard about the cadets...

She shook her head, unsure whether to laugh or cry at his words of concern in the aftermath of all he'd been through. They're fine, for the most part. It's a long story. How are you? I heard about the Chancellor's daring rescue.

Even through the Force, even over the light-years that separated them, she could sense his weariness, bone-deep and unshakable, along with his usual wry humor that overlapped everything else. Anakin was his usual magnificent self. I tagged along and somehow managed not to get killed. Another happy landing. There was a pause and she could feel his uncertainty. Finally he continued. I'm on my way to Utapau. Grievous.

You, Anakin and a legion of other Jedi, I hope?

No. Just me....well, me and an army.

Sensing that questioning him about the Jedi Council's decision at the moment would not be productive, Kali tried to quell her nervousness at his words as she replied. Well, please be careful and don't...take too long.

If he'd been sitting with her, she thought that her words might have been able to make him smile, if only for a moment. As it was, he only sounded more weary and worried than she'd heard him in a long time. I'll do my best. What are you up to? The remorseful tint to his thoughts indicated that he already knew, and she swallowed.

Honi, Zara and I are going back to the Core. I'm going to speak to the Council. She took a breath, trying to gather her courage. I know you have so much on your mind, but I wanted to – needed to – talk you...somehow.

She could picture his face lifting in a smile that would not reach his eyes. Kali. You are my dearest friend and I'm always happy to talk to you. That will never change. I only wish we could speak in person. There was a pause, a waver, and if they'd been speaking over a comm channel it would have been static. However, it smoothed out and he continued. I know you make no decision lightly, though I do wish...She could almost hear his sigh. Many things, I suppose. Can I see you, when I return? Where can I find you?

As she didn't really have an answer at the moment, she shook her head, even though he couldn't see. I'll find you, Ben.

I see. Then I suppose that will have to suffice. Take care, Kali, and stay safe. There was only warmth in his tone, and her eyes grew hot with a sorrow that she couldn't place a name to. His next words were edged with hope, love, and – she thought – a trace of fear. May the Force be with you, Kalinda.

You too, Obi-Wan. And then the connection was gone; not severed, but rather tied off, to be unraveled and re-strung between them at a later point in time.

She sat in silence for several minutes, allowing her mind to settle back within the confines of her body.

Finally she took a breath and rubbed her eyes, blinking a few times to bring herself out of the trance, back to her present reality. Looking around the small cabin, she felt a flood of memories overtake her, and shesuddenly realized that she was exhausted, so she leaned back against the bed and pulled out her mother's journal, hoping to glean some kind of truth from the fragile pages.

And all at once I was filled with an energy that was foreign but also familiar. For the duration, there was no pain at all, such that I may have been a 'normal' person, and I felt like I could do anything. And then I realized beyond a shadow of doubt what must be done, what I must do. After everything that had passed, it was the easiest decision of my life.

But it was useless; thoughts of Obi-Wan coalesced into memories of Stonewall and for a moment she was overwhelmed with longing and remorse. However, after a bit she was able to relax and let the feelings pass through her so that her body and mind could rest. After a few minutes more, she was able to sleep.

*​

After Kalinda retired to the back, there was silence in the body of the Wayfarer and Milo found himself at a complete loss for words. Had he been with his brothers or the dark-haired Jedi it wouldn't have been so awkward, as they were just as comfortable sitting in companionable silence as they were with idle chatter, but with Honi – General Tallis, he chided himself – it was different. He was aware of her in a way that went beyond anything he'd ever experienced before; her every movement seemed to be designed to both attract and confuse him.

He'd considered putting his helmet back on, if only to make things easier for himself, but decided against it in the end. Sometimes I feel like it's too easy to hide behind the bucket; I guess it's kind of...impersonal. Not that I'm much to look at. He sighed without really meaning to.

From her place at the helm, the red-haired Jedi glanced behind her. “Zara, you need to spend this down-time in meditation.” The Nautolan girl, who'd been reading an old flimsi that she'd found, nodded and rose to her feet, slipping out of the room without a word.

Now they were truly alone.

Milo decided that this was one of the more intimidating moments of his short life. How did the captain manage it? I feel if I open my mouth, only gibberish will fall out. And in any case...nothing will come of it. She's not going to change her tune for me, and I'm going to ship off to who knows where. But even so...

He cast a surreptitious glance at her: the light from hyperspace cast her creamy skin in a luminous glow and she had not bothered to put her hair up, letting it fall in coppery waves down her shoulders. She's beautiful. I wonder if she has any idea. He tried to push the thoughts away, if only for the fact that she would most certainly pick up on them, but found that as he tried to stop, they only came at a faster pace: her pale-blue eyes that missed nothing, the tilting angle of her chin when she was annoyed, the gentle way she held her hands over his brothers when she put her healing skills to work....all of these things rushed through his brain no matter how much he tried to stem the tide.

Just when he thought he couldn't take it anymore, she glanced at him. “How long have Kalinda and your captain been sleeping together?” Her voice was perfectly natural, as if she'd just asked him about the condition of the engines.

He was so startled at her candor that he replied without a moment's hesitation. “I'm not sure exactly. Well over a year, I know.” His face felt hot and he wanted to know why she'd asked, but he wasn't sure if he could bring himself to voice the question.

But she seemed aware of none of his internal debate as she nodded. “She says that she loves him. Do you think that he loves her?”

She sounds...unsure. Almost. Milo shook his head and watched as her eyes narrowed. “No...I know beyond a doubt that he loves her more than anything. It's plain to see,” he explained to her look of disbelief. “I can see it on his face, hear it whenever he speaks to her – or about her – it's like nothing I've ever seen. Stonewall's really lucky, but Kalinda is, too.” He smiled to himself and tried to keep the wistfulness from his words.

“Kalinda has always had love in some form or another,” the Jedi said, her voice quiet. “First with her father, then Obi-Wan...now with this clone. Stonewall,” she added, glancing at him.

“Her father?”

General Tallis frowned. “Her first master – Jonas – was also her father. I probably shouldn't have said anything.” She looked at him, her gaze was earnest. “Don't tell her I told you. Please.”

The thought occurred to him that she could have asked him to shoot his own foot and he probably would have obliged. “Won't breathe a word.”

“Good.” The general paused and frowned, forming the next words with deliberation. “Thank you.” He chuckled and she gave him a sideways glance. “What?”

Does it matter anymore? I'll likely never see her again once we reach the Core. “Nothing, General. I just get the sense that you don't say 'thank you' too often.” Any other person, Milo was sure, would have been affronted, but she merely looked thoughtful when he smiled at her. And then the most amazing thing happened:

She smiled back.

*​

“Are they really hungry again?” Crest sounded bemused as he watched the boys file out of the room to make their way for the cafeteria.

Traxis shook his head. “Don't you remember being that age? It was only about five or six years ago, at this point.” He gathered the remains of their sabacc game and began to slip the cards back in their case. After a moment he glanced at Weave, who had taken to tinkering with the captain's and Crest's armor. Though they had an assortment of spare 'parts' that had been transferred from the Wayfarer, every trooper preferred his usual kit, and they all knew that they couldn't wear only their fatigues forever. The scarred clone nodded to the door. “Levy seems like he's doing better. Being with the others is good for him.”

At this, Weave looked up, a faint smile on his face. “I know....I'm glad they didn't treat him badly.”

“They're his brothers,” Trax replied with a frown. “Why would they?”

“We still like you even after....” Crest made a vague gesture to his own left eye that was supposed to indicate Weave's implant, though the medic shook his head.

“Well, that doesn't mean they would. They're just kids, after all.”

A soft noise of footfalls beyond the room made them pause and look up; moments later the door opened and Stonewall – assisted by No-Name – stepped inside. The boy helped him to his sleep-couch and watched as the captain sank down with a grimace. “Thank you, lad.”

No-Name nodded, his expression solemn, though he said nothing. Traxis cleared his throat. “Your brothers should be in the cafeteria.”

“I know,” the boy replied, glancing at Stonewall, who regarded him. “It's okay if I stay here, though, right?”

“Sure, kid,” Crest said. “The more the merrier. Besides, you haven't heard all of my jokes, yet.” He shot Traxis a look. “Maybe someone will appreciate that one about the Wookiee, the Bothan, and the Duros who all walk into a cantina...”

“That's not really appropriate for young ears, Crest,” Weave said in Mando'a. Indeed, No-Name's interest was written across his face, for all that he was silent.

We're going to have to teach them Mando'a soon enough, Traxis thought, setting the cards to the side. There's a lot they should learn, actually. A whole lot....He tried not to frown. It would be a massive undertaking, and he realized that he hadn't really thought about the repercussions of the squad's decision to take over the care of the boys.

But what choice did we have? Send them back to the long-necks to be terminated? He was certain that's what would happen to them; his brother Weave's own experience on Kamino was proof enough of that fact. They were ready to 'recondition' him for being too curious, and though she never said as much, I'm pretty sure that it was only Kalinda's involvement that kept Weave from being shipped back to Kamino when we got out of Perdax. What will they do with a group of boys who've dealt with things that hardened soldiers haven't come across? And Levy...he'd be sentenced to death before they'd bother to figure out what Creon did to him.

What are a few young clones when you have thousands more to replace them?

Despite these thoughts, it was an overwhelming task that he and his brothers were facing, what essentially amounted to a massive question-mark. What will happen to us? Never thought I'd consider myself a defector, but that's what it boils down to, I guess. He glanced at No-Name, who had taken a seat besides Stonewall and was speaking to the captain in low tones; already the boy looked like a regular child. Not that I've seen too many of those, but he seems....happy. I don't think I ever felt like that at his age. Or any time, for that matter...before recently.

“Cred for your thoughts?” Crest's voice was relatively quiet; seated as he was, Traxis was close to the bald clone, out of earshot of the captain and No-Name – who were engrossed in their own conversation anyway – and Weave, who only had eyes for the armor in his hands, though he kept flicking his gaze to the door.

Traxis tilted his head towards No-Name. “The usual.”

“Ah. Well, I reckon those thoughts are worth a pretty ingot.”

“I don't like not knowing.” Traxis looked at the small, cloth bag that contained his sabacc cards. “But I don't know what's going to happen to them, or to us, for that matter.” The bag felt heavier than it should have, and he wasn't sure he could form the word defection quite yet. Or traitor, though he imagined that would also apply.

But Crest only looked thoughtful. “Everything's changing, isn't it? I guess that's the way things go.” He shrugged. “For what it's worth, I think that you and Weave have made the right choice. I wish Milo hadn't left, but I understand why he did.”

That was unexpected and Traxis lifted his eyes to his brother, who wore an uncommonly serious expression. “And you? What are you going to do?”

The bald clone gave a long exhale and it was several moments before he replied. “Oh, I'll stick around with the rest of you for a while. No one else will really put up with me, I think.” The two men shared a grin before glancing back at Stonewall. “I know what he's going to do,” Crest added in a low voice. “So it looks like we'll have each other, at least. Give or take a few new faces. Well, new as in...”

Traxis sighed. “I know what you meant.” He glanced at the cards again and felt a sudden urge to be on his feet, so he looked up at Weave. “I'm going to set these away with the other stuff we unpacked from the ship...need me to grab anything for you while I'm at it?”

His brother studied him, giving the impression that he understood the scarred clone's apprehension, and nodded. “I could use another right rerebrace, if you can find one. Crest, yours is shot.” He lifted the plastoid and they could all see where it had nearly melted from the heat of the fire.

“Ouch, yeah. I think I remember that,” Crest replied with a wince as he rubbed at his arm.

“Right. Well, I'll be back in a sec.” Traxis got to his feet and slipped out of the room into the body of the praxeum ship. Feels better already. It was easier away from the others and the infirmary. Not that I don't want to be with them, but I just needed a break from all the....anxiety. The squad had been given use of a small storage compartment for their belongings at the edge of the hangar, so that was where he made his way.

It was quiet in the massive room, the only sounds were his footfalls against the duracrete floor and the soft hum of the energy field that kept out the chill of open space, but even so it was considerably cooler than the rest of the Chu'unthor. There were few ships in the hangar at this time, but one in particular caught his eye: an oblong-shaped transport situated in the far corner of the room, being tended to by a familiar figure.

Immediately, Traxis wished he had stayed in the infirmary, with the kind of questions that he could handle because they were mostly centered on things larger than his own personal desires. But his legs kept on their path, which would take him right beside the coral-skinned Twi'lek who even now was glancing up at the sound of approaching steps, his eyes falling on Traxis in the next moment. Ares smiled at him and lifted his hand in greeting.

Kriffing hell. What am I supposed to say? Should I say anything at all? He'd never been proficient with small-talk and he doubted that Ares wanted to hear about his wide array of weapons or how to manually take down a SBD in under thirty seconds. Trax managed a stiff nod.

Thankfully – or not, as he wasn't sure about much in his life at the moment – he was spared from the decision as Ares approached him. They met just beyond the ship, and Traxis noted that the Twi'lek was wiping grease off of his hands with a rag. “Need to find something? This place can be a maze.”

The accent always catches me off guard. Traxis shook his head and indicated his destination. “I'm just getting some spare armor.” Ares nodded. But Traxis' feet remained in place, as if deliberately trying to make him feel even more awkward. Finally he looked at the ship. “Nice. Yours?”

“She is,” Ares replied, his grin wide. “The Stark Raven. She's my pride and joy.”

Traxis couldn't prevent the next words from leaving his mouth, though in retrospect he thought they sounded rude. “Why do you need a ship like this if you're a medical assistant?”

However, rather than take offense, the Twi'lek seemed to consider the clone's words. Finally he gave a crooked grin. “I've had several...careers. Some of them required the use of personal transportation.” At Trax's look of confusion he elaborated. “I spent some time as a bounty hunter, but it wasn't really my line of work.”

“What do you mean?” Bounty hunters were kind of a sore point with most clones, as they tended to operate outside of the Republic law that the troopers were taught to uphold. But Jango was one of them. Perhaps they're not all bad. He studied Ares as the Twi'lek replied.

“Oh, I could do the job well enough.” There was a moment where his face clouded over; when it passed, he exhaled and shrugged again even as he ran his eyes over the hull of the transport. “But it was selfish work, in the end. Not for me, I realized. Anyway, I find I'm happier now, though the Raven and I don't get to fly quite as much.” He gave the clone that odd, crooked grin again.

Having no immediate reply to the other man's words, Traxis studied the Raven a bit more. He knew next to nothing about ships, and after a moment he said as much. In response, Ares gave an easy chuckle. It was a pleasant sound. Different, but pleasant. A tiny smile tugged at Traxis' mouth as the Twi'lek began to lead him around the ship, pointing out various features and modifications that he'd made. After several minutes, when they were standing in the interior of the vessel, Ares looked at him. “One day, I can show you how to fly her. If you like, that is.”

Traxis turned and examined the helm, if for no other reason than to hide the heat that had crept to his face. I like his voice and I like his smile...but how many things can I have on my plate before I drop it and everything shatters? And I'm probably only kidding myself, anyway. But instead of all this, he only said, “Maybe.”

*​

“Why don't you have a name?”

The boy looked at Stonewall, his brows knitted. “Dunno, sir. Never really picked one up.” He glanced at the door, in the direction his brothers had gone and shrugged. “Some of the others tried to give me one, but it never felt...right.”

That sounds familiar. I wonder if it's commonplace among command-units. Stonewall tried to remember if he'd ever heard other officers making the same observation, but couldn't at the moment, so he only nodded. “I understand. It's not something to take lightly, but it's important.” He paused, then shifted in the cushions, trying not to wince at the shooting pain in his limbs. “I remember trying to think of one, back when I was a little older than you....I didn't get mine until my first battle.”

“Where was that?” No-Name had folded his legs beneath him and was seated on the other end of the sleep-couch, listening to every word.

Stonewall took a breath. It was not one of his happier memories, but it seemed so long ago at this point that it may as well have happened to a different person. “Geonosis, as the war began.”

No-Name sat up. “The first battle? You were at the first battle of Geonosis?” His voice was awestruck and Stonewall tried not to smile.

“It wasn't as much fun as you might have heard,” he replied in a dry voice.

“How did you get it?”

Stonewall paused again, casting his mind back to the day. When he looked back at No-Name, his voice was quiet. “One of my brothers gave it to me just before he died.”

“Oh.” The boy was silent for a moment, absorbing his words. Finally he looked back up at the captain, his expression earnest. “I don't want it to happen that way.”

He didn't have a response for that, so Stonewall merely nodded again. Beyond them, Weave was working over their armor – attempting to repair the damage it had sustained on Sethos – while Crest and Traxis were speaking in low tones. Save for Kali's gentle strumming of her dulcimer and Milo's tablas, it could have been just like any other time. Whatever else happens, it feels like we'll remain together, for the most part. A thought occurred to him and he looked back at No-Name, who seemed nervous, though the feeling was distant. “His name was Drake,” he said, causing the boy to look back at him.

“Sir...I mean, Stonewall?”

Stone gave the lad a smile. “My brother-by-choice, the one who gave me my name; his name was Drake.”

No-Name grew thoughtful as he said the word like he was tasting a new food. “Drake. That's a good name.” His gaze on Stonewall was a little uncertain and a little hopeful.

“It is.” Stonewall took a breath. “I don't want it to happen that way for you, either.”

“Would he mind?” The younger clone's voice was hesitant. It was a big step, after all.


Ignoring the pain, Stonewall reached forward to ruffle what hair there was. “He'd be honored, Drake.”

 

I have bitten my nails to stumps already, because I feel like Order 66 is going to happen very soon and that makes me very anxious!

This reminds me of when my cousin was watching The Hunger Games, having read the books, and was in the theater going, "oh no oh no oh no oh no!!!!" during the lead-up to a particularly harrowing scene.

 

@gracesonnet: Yeah. Sigh. "Very soon," indeed. Thank you for reading & commenting!​

*****​

Chapter Seventeen: Dulce Et Decorum Est ​

1089 days ABG

There's only so much inward reflection I can do before I need a break. Just over four days of space travel was starting to wear on Zara's nerves, as was the ceaseless meditation that her master was urging her to perform; however, she was reluctant to say anything, as tension had taken over the small ship, holding thick and fast in the recycled air. When she wasn't at the helm, all that Kalinda had done was listen to the HNN broadcasts and compare them with the feed from the GAR, which seemed a little redundant to the Padawan, though she kept her mouth shut. What difference can it make? Surely they get their information from the same sources.

Presently, the two Jedi were seated at the helm and co-pilot's seat, watching the receding stars. After finishing yet another meditation session, Zara was reluctant to speak to anyone, as she was certain that any moment Master Tallis would turn around and tell her to meditate some more. I know I shouldn't be, but I'm bored. She glanced around the common area; Milo was seated at the table, thumbing through a datapad with about as much enthusiasm as she'd felt for meditation. At her approach, the clone glanced up and gave her a friendly smile.

“Finished your session for now, Commander?” Zara glanced at her master, who seemed unaware of his words and then nodded. He seemed to deliberate before pulling out a deck of cards from his belt. “Up for some sabacc?”

“Oh.” She paused and looked at Master Tallis. “I'm not sure if....”

As if on cue, the red-haired Jedi twisted in her seat. “Sabacc?”

Milo nodded as he opened the case and began shuffling the cards; when he spoke his voice was careful. “Would you two like to join us?”

Both Jedi seemed eager enough; Kalinda flipped on the autopilot and stood up, stretching her arms before nudging the other woman. “Come on, Honi. All work and no play...” The Nautolan girl smiled to herself as her master nodded and rose from her seat.

Soon all four of them were seated around the table and Milo was dealing the cards. He cast Zara a look. “Have you played sabacc before, Commander?”

She tried not to glance at her master and nodded; moments later everyone was thumbing through their own hands. Master Tallis sat up and studied her cards with sharp eyes before glancing up at the others. “What are we playing for?”

Kalinda shrugged. “Just for fun, Honi. No need to get competitive.”

“Competitive?” Milo asked, glancing at the red-haired Jedi. “Are you a good player, then?”

Zara and Kalinda exchanged glances while Master Tallis gave him an mild look. “Be thankful that this is just for fun, Milo.” Her voice was easier than Zara had heard it in some time, and she noticed that the clone seemed to grow a bit flustered, as his face reddened and he looked down at his hand.

They wound up playing nearly ten rounds, seven of which Master Tallis won, her face set in rigid determination and her expression giving nothing away. She's good. Really good. Me, not so much. Zara lost – badly – but she found that her mind wasn't really on the game, especially when she took to surreptitiously studying the clone trooper. He's nice. They're all nice. It's odd...you don't think of soldiers as being like regular people, but he's just like any other man right now. She thought of the clone cadets and tried not to feel a pang of longing. I guess I'll never see them again. I hope they'll be okay.

Milo was watching the red-haired Jedi with unconcealed fascination, which Zara and Kalinda did not miss, though neither of them said anything. Finally, as they had just started an eleventh hand, the comm began to chirp. In one swift motion Kalinda was at the station. “Emergency transmission,” she said as she activated the message. “Voice-only.”

“This is RC-6520 of Teroch Squad, requesting immediate assistance from any Republic forces in the area.” The message – along with a comm code – was repeated over and over until Kalinda shut it off and dropped in the pilot's seat to pull the ship out of hyperspace.

Along with her master and Milo, Zara moved to the helm while the dark-haired Jedi reached for the comm to return the message. She entered the code and they waited through the crackling static until she could speak. “This is Republic vessel Wayfarer responding to your signal, RC-6520. We're able to assist you; what is your location?”

Through the static, a familiar clone-voice sounded. “Acknowledged, Wayfarer. We're on the planet Ambria...” He gave a set of coordinates and Milo moved to the navacomputer to enter them while Kalinda frowned into the receiver.

“Do you have injured?”

There was a pause, then a clipped response. “Affirmative, Wayfarer.”

“We'll be there within a few hours, RC,” she said. “Will you be okay until then?”

“Affirmative.” Another pause. “Thank you.”

Then silence.

The Jedi exchanged glances before Kalinda looked at Milo. “Not very talkative, are they?”

He was studying the encryption codes, brows knitted. “Not as such, but see this? The RCs are an interesting bunch, from what I understand. They've interlaced their transmission with more information – as the emergency channels aren't secure.” He pointed to a series of codes. “Looks like their vessel was shot down by enemies after a mission went awry; they have one dead and one wounded. Out of four.”

He looked up at Kalinda, who had sat at the helm, and Zara could almost taste her sorrow as she replied, almost to herself. “We'll be there as soon as we can.”

*​

“What can you tell me about Ambria, Zara?” Honi's voice was calm even as they approached the sulfur-colored world several hours later. From her place at the helm, Kalinda took a deep breath and tried to ignore the tightening feeling in her stomach as she angled the Wayfarer towards Teroch Squad's location.

The Nautolan girl looked thoughtful. “It's the place where Jedi Master Thon took Nomi Sunrider as his apprentice, as well as the site of a battle between the Sith lords, Darth Bane and Darth Zannah....”

It's also said to be a place ripe with Dark Side energy, Kali thought as she listened to the Padawan. I don't relish the thought of journeying here. But we have to help these soldiers if we can. She cast a look at Milo, who seemed to be as tense as she felt, and he met her eyes. Neither one spoke.

Once the Wayfarer dropped through the atmosphere it was easy to tell where the commandos were located, as there was a massive pillar of smoke rising from the crash-site. Milo leaned forward as they approached. “Looks like they took care of whoever chased them here, at least.” Indeed, aside from a smaller Republic vessel that looked to be wrecked beyond repair, there was a droid scout-ship nearby.

The closer they came, Kalinda could make out the remains of dozens of clankers, many of which she didn't recognize. Prototypes of new droids? I suppose I can guess what type of mission they were on, anyway.

A small, gray-armored figure stood amidst the ruins of his ship and waved his hand once as they came in to land; Kali set the Wayfarer down as close as she could without disturbing the area. Moments later they were disembarking and hurrying to meet the commando, who snapped into a salute when he caught sight of their lightsabers. “Generals. Thank you for coming so quickly.”

She gestured behind her at Honi, who was surveying the area with her sharp gaze. “Where is your wounded brother? General Tallis is a skilled healer.”

The commando indicated the wreckage of the Republic vessel and she noted another gray-armored figure lying prone on the ground in the shelter of the ship, one of his brothers bent over him; she watched as Honi and Zara moved towards the men. Milo remained at her side while she studied the commando who'd greeted them. “Are you okay?”

The question seemed to catch the trooper off guard, as she sensed a flicker of surprise from him even though he replied almost immediately. “Yes, sir. I'm fine.”

His unease was palpable and she recalled that most commando squads were usually sent off on their own missions without the presence of a Jedi. Perhaps he just doesn't know what to say. So she gave him a smile and blinked up at the sun behind him, which was starting to sink below the horizon. “What's your name?”

This question was most certainly unexpected, for he visibly started, though after a moment he saluted her again. “I go by Ferro, General....?”
“Ferro. Where are my manners? I'm Kalinda Halcyon and this is Milo; our healer is Honi Tallis and her Padawan is Zara Karell.” She indicated the shelter of their vessel. “Will you tell me what happened, please?” He and Milo followed her to the shadow of the Wayfarer where she glanced around the area. Ambria was a desolate place, filled with gritty, yellowish sand and straggling mountains that seemed choked by a distant haze. Through the dense cloud cover the sun was tinted blood-red as it neared the horizon and the wind was picking up enough to lift the edges of her tunic.

Ferro paused, then nodded. “General Halcyon. We were investigating the potential development of an experimental new droid when our cover was compromised; we evac'd the area but were pursued by enemy forces who fired on our vessel. Our pilot, Welt, was killed in the attack, and our ship crashed here. The seps pursued but we were able to eliminate them.” He straightened and leveled the blank gaze of his blue-visored helmet onto her.

While he spoke, Kalinda took a moment to get a sense of the clone through the Force, as much as she could without actually peeking into his mind. I've never met a commando before. He feels younger than even Milo. But aside from that she didn't sense anything so much as curiosity, respect, and a lingering sorrow. One brother dead, another injured. It never gets easier, does it?

Beside her, Milo shifted and indicated the remains of the droids. “Nice job.” Ferro glanced at Milo but only made a swift nod in reply.

Kali tried to give him a reassuring smile. “He's right, Ferro. Though I'm sorry you lost a brother.” She lifted her comm. “Zara? How's it going?”

“Kalinda...please come here,” Honi's voice sounded in place of her Padawan and Kali frowned; a glance at Milo and Ferro was all that was needed to let them know that they should follow her. When she approached, she knew immediately that the news was not good. Murmuring to Zara, Honi rose and stepped to Kalinda, pulling her away from the others. “In addition to a collapsed lung and three broken ribs, he has severe internal hemorrhaging and has already lost a dangerous amount of blood.”

Kali shook her head, pitching her voice low. “What do you need? What can we do?”

“Nothing.” Honi's tone was quiet. Kalinda opened her mouth to object but the red-haired woman shook her head. “If I had a bacta tank right now, he might be able to recover, but we're days away from anything like that. His injuries are too serious...I'm not sure he'll survive the next few hours.” She paused and her expression grew shadowed.

Another one lost. Kalinda felt her throat tightening even as she looked back at the prone trooper. Her eyes closed briefly before she nodded. “Please keep trying, Honi. I'll speak to the others.” She watched as her former Padawan moved back to the injured clone; she glanced at Milo, who had removed his bucket and was kneeling besides Honi, speaking to her in a soft voice.

She took a deep breath and looked at the commando, who had risen to approach her. “Ferro.”

“General....you don't have to say anything.” He radiated sorrow for all that his voice was neutral. “I know enough.”

She placed a hand on his vambrace; the commando armor was different from that of most other clones, bulkier and darker, but beneath it was a man just like any other and she felt a massive stab of remorse for his fallen brother. “What is his name?”

“Exer.”

The tone of his voice...it reminds me of Stonewall when he talks about the brothers he's lost. Swallowing her sorrow, Kali nodded and moved back to Honi. “Zara, would you please go to the Wayfarer and bring some spare blankets? I want to make Exer as comfortable as we can.” She watched as the Padawan scurried off, then looked at the other commando who had risen to stand beside Ferro while Honi worked over the fallen clone. “What's your name?”

His head tilted and she got the impression that he was speaking with Ferro over their secure comms, though he answered her within a moment. “Archer, General Halcyon, sir.” The wind was growing more persistent and the sun was brushing the horizon; soon it would be dark.

“Milo...do you think you could find any fuel for a fire? We have those emergency starters, I think, but a fire might be nice.” I don't want to be stuck inside that ship right now, and I don't think anyone else does, either.

The younger clone nodded and glanced around. “I think I noticed some dried vegetation that should work as well. It won't be a bonfire, but it'll keep the chill of the wind out.” He sprinted for the Wayfarer as she looked at the commandos.

“Archer, Ferro: we're going to do what we can for your brother, but we may not be successful.”

“Understood, General.” Ferro gave her a nod, but Archer was silent.

It was in that moment she heard Honi speak her name again; Kalinda felt the injured clone's presence in the Force fade from a whisper to nothing at all and she felt heat prick at her eyes. Honi stood up and brushed off her tunic, her expression neutral while Kali and the commandos moved to Exer's body. She knelt beside him, and put her hand on his chest over his heart.

“I'm so sorry,” she whispered. “Nu kyr'adyc, shi taab'echaaj'la.” Not gone, merely marching far away.

There was silence for a few moments before the commandos looked at one another. “You know Mando'a, General Halcyon?” Archer sounded nonplussed.

Kali nodded, standing up after a pause. “I asked my squad to teach me. I'm not sure what you want to do with his body.”

“We'll take care of it, sir,” Ferro replied, glancing at his brother before looking back at her. “And...thank you.” He sounded unsure and – she thought again – very young.

Several hours later they were seated around the beginnings of a flickering fire; Milo and the commandos had pooled some rations and the group had eaten in silence. Afterward, the clones had all removed their helmets and the two commandos were gazing at the flames.

They look different to me now, Kali thought. Each of them is so unique...I can tell them apart as easily as if they had different faces. But I can still see the similarities in their mannerisms. She studied Ferro without seeming to, noting again how the younger man reminded her of Stone in more ways than one. He's so thoughtful, with an edge of honesty and humility that I hope will never be shaken.

A glance behind them showed Exer's body, covered and still, and she sighed as she tried to hold back the bite of remorse. What has the cost of this war been? Can any of us even reckon it? She cleared her throat, which caused the clones to look up. “What will you do, now?”

“Our mission-plan calls for us to return to Coruscant, General,” Ferro replied. Kalinda had figured out that he was the de-facto leader of the group, though it seemed pointless now, as there were just the two of them left. “When we do, we'll most likely be absorbed into another squad and sent on a new mission.”

“What if the war is over by the time you get back?” Zara's voice was quiet and the commando looked at her as if he'd only just remembered that she was there.

Archer shifted in his seat. “It won't be.” His voice was dark.

“Why is that?” Honi asked. “Surely the death of Count Dooku indicates that an end is in sight.” She sounded confident and assured. Milo watched her and Kali noticed how he nodded at her words.

But Ferro looked thoughtful, the expression reminding Kalinda so much of Stonewall that she had to move her eyes away from him to the fire. “Something as big as this war can't be over so quickly, General. And even if it officially ends tomorrow, there will still be much work to do. Clean-up, as it were.”

Seemingly unconvinced, Honi frowned. “Perhaps. But I hope that the brunt of the fighting is behind us. This war is an utter waste of life.” She looked down at her hands and flexed them over the fire as if to warm her skin.

A gust of wind tugged at the flames and Milo leaned forward to stir the forming coals before looking at the commandos. “Nice kit. Katarn armor, right?”

Ferro and Archer exchanged amused looks and the former nodded, unfastening one of his gauntlets and passing it to the other clone. “Verpine and EMP resistant; reinforced duraplast plating, not to mention...” He lifted his other hand and flicked his wrist to reveal a retractable vibroblade. Zara's eyes widened but she remained silent, seated between the other Jedi.

“Comes in handy, I suppose,” Milo replied, examining the gauntlet a moment more before passing it back to Ferro. “Remember the time that Weave tried to make one of those?”

At this, he and Kali shared a look and she chuckled. “I don't think I could forget Crest nearly slitting his own wrist.” That was an experience I could have lived without.

Archer lifted a brow at Milo. “Others in your unit?”

“Squad-mates,” Milo replied, nodding to Kalinda. “We've been working with General Halcyon for about two years now. Well,” he amended. “I'm leaving, but the others are sticking around.” He shot Kali an almost guilty look and she shook her head.

“You deserve your promotion, Mi. But I will miss having you around.” She noted that the gaze of the commandos flicked between herself and Milo, for all that they remained silent.

Finally, after exchanging glances with his fellow soldier, Ferro regarded her. “You're the General Halcyon of Shadow Squad, sir?”

Even in the middle of nowhere the gossip follows me. Kali tried to hold back her annoyance with a light smile. “Don't tell me I have a reputation...”

“No, sir,” Ferro replied, shaking his head and looking slightly embarrassed. “It's just...we looked you up when we had a moment.” He raised a brow at her and looked between the Jedi and Milo. “I heard about that business on Florrum. It sounded exciting.” The bare beginning of a smile ghosted his face.

She laughed outright. “Pirates, spice and invisible droids. 'Exciting' is one word for it, I guess.” Milo shot her a grin and they reminisced for a few more minutes.

“You mixed the ale and the spice?” Archer said, tilting his head.

Milo nodded. “Yep. Created a kind of glowy-sticky mess that coated the droids and made them less invisible.”

“And made everyone stink like a cantina, I'll bet,” Honi added.

Milo regarded her. “There are worse things.”

At that moment Zara let out a yawn and her master glanced at her before looking back at Kalinda, who nodded. “I think that's the signal for bed, Zar.”

“I'm not tired, Master....” Zara's credibility was shattered with another yawn and Milo grinned even as Honi shook her head.

“Come on,” the red-haired Jedi said, getting to her feet. “I could use some rest as well.” Indeed, her eyes were shadowed and Kali realized how much of herself Honi had given in her attempts to heal the fallen commando.

She always puts everything she has into her work. I hope she can transfer her determination to Zara – without the attitude. Kalinda smiled at them. “Rest well, both of you.”

“Good night, Commander,” Milo added. “Goodnight, General Tallis.” Kali thought that they might have exchanged a deeper look, but it could very well have been the firelight playing tricks on her.

As the others made their way towards the Wayfarer, she looked back at the commandos. “Is your ship functional at all?”

“Engines are shot,” Archer answered. “The comm's pretty much the only thing that still works.”

She nodded. “We're going to Coruscant as well, so we can take you with us.” She smiled at them and Ferro returned the expression with a little less hesitation this time, though his reply was still a bit formal.

“As you say, General.” A few minutes passed before he nodded to Archer and they stood up. “If that's the case, we'll need to salvage a few things from our vessel.” Their armor glinted in the flames as they stepped away from the circle of light cast by the fire.

*​

Milo watched them, allowing unconcealed fascination to become evident on his face. “Commandos. Never thought I'd get to meet any.” He looked at Kalinda, who smiled at him. “They're on a whole other level from us regular clones.”

“I've heard that,” she replied. “But you know, to me you and your brothers are all on your own 'level.'”

Well, you're not exactly a 'regular' Jedi, are you? He nodded. “To everyone else, they're some of the best around...did you see that kit? I'd love a DC-17m at my side....”

This made her laugh out loud. “Now that all looks the same to me.”

He very nearly launched into a detailed dissection of the differences and similarities between his armor and that of the commandos, but decided against it, as there were other things on his mind. Of course, the moment his expression changed she was aware that something was going on, but in her fashion she said nothing to him at first, waiting for him to speak. Finally he sighed and met her dark eyes. “I know it's stupid, but...”

Kalinda gave him a kind, but sort of sad smile. “I know, Mi. Honi.” She glanced in the direction of their ship. “I wish I could tell you something that you would want to hear, but I'm afraid I'm all out of platitudes when it comes to that girl.”

Looking down at his deece where it rested beside him, Milo nodded. “I know...I mean, I realize that it's not possible, but I can't help it. She's....” He trailed off and sighed, a mixture of desire and frustration. “I don't know how the captain ever managed it.”

At this the Jedi tilted her head to him. “Managed what?”

“To...” He frowned and poked at the fire while he considered. How can I put this without sounding like an utter di'kut? “Romance you.” Even as he said the word it sounded foolish in his ears and he grimaced again. “Wow, forget I said that.”

Lips pursed, head down, it was clear that the Jedi was trying not to chuckle, which he appreciated even though he knew that his words had been silly; after a moment she managed to meet his eyes. “I have no doubt that any of you could find happiness given the opportunity. What's between Stone and I...” Her expression softened. “Well, I hope that you'll get to experience something similar, one day. You deserve every bit of happiness you can get, Milo.”

It was perhaps the kindest thing that anyone had ever said to him, but his reply was halted by the quietly insistent chirruping of his comm. While Kalinda watched, Milo raised his wrist, lifting his brows at the flickering blue figure that emerged from the darkness. The next words were distorted by the gentle cracking of the fire.

“Execute Order 66.”

As Kalinda was tilting her head, the inevitable question on the tip of her tongue, Milo looked up. His heart started hammering within the cavity of his chest as he debated for what felt like a long moment, but he soon realized – with absolute certainty – what he was going to do. What he had no choice but to do.

Even as she said his name, he lifted his deece and started firing.

*****​

A/N: The chapter title comes from a poem by Wilifred Owen. The entire quote is “Dulce et decorum est, pro patria mori,” which translates to, “it is sweet and honorable to die for one's country.” It's a phenomenal poem about WWI which seemed fitting for this chapter, and the Clone Wars as a whole as well. HIGHLY recommended. A later chapter will have another quote from this poem, just fyi.

Thank you for reading!

 

Gaaaaahhhhh! Why, laloga, why?!

 

[Hugs gracesonnet.] I know, I know. Trust me, it was not fun to write, either!

 

No, my original message is too sad

 

FYI, we're jumping backward in time, just a little...watch the dates.

*****​

Chapter Eighteen: The Breaking Point​

1086 days ABG

In the sharpness of his dream, her dark eyes contained a flickering fire that he didn't recognize and when she smiled at him, her voice was unnaturally calm. It's okay, Stone. It will be okay. I love you. No matter what happens, I will always love you. And then she was struck down before him, again and again and again, and each time he was forced to watch while being able to do nothing.

When Stonewall awoke, he was gasping and drenched in sweat; without thinking, he threw off the blankets that covered him and sat up, trying to catch his breath and shake the image from his brain.

After his heart rate had returned to normal, he glanced at Crest, who was snoring quietly, unaware of his brother's restlessness. I prefer it that way, I guess. No need to worry anyone else over a silly dream that I've been having over and over for the past two nights. The sweat had turned to a clammy film on his skin and he shivered as he realized that in the days since Kali's departure from the Chu'unthor, he'd had the dream every single night, to the point where he dreaded going to sleep. But as Weave was so fond of telling him, sleep was his body's way of healing that nothing – not even the Force – could take the place of.

Stonewall decided to prove him wrong.

But not here. While not loud, Crest's erratic wheezing was distracting and he knew that he needed every bit of concentration he could muster. I remember one of the others saying something about a meditation wing on this ship. Kali had told him about such rooms in the Jedi Temple on Coruscant, whose sole function was to provide the user with a quiet place, free of distraction.

After slipping his boots on beneath his off-duty fatigues, he managed to get to his feet. Standing was not as bad as it had been, but it was still not easy and he had to bite back his frustration as he reached for the crutches that were a necessity. Soon. Soon I won't need these any more. Once they were situated under his shoulders he made his way to the door, pausing only to activate the panel against the wall.

It was late – or early – and the ship was quiet. Many of Altis' followers were on their own mercy missions for the Jedi, which was as admirable as it was convenient, because it meant that there was no one around to watch him hobble away from the infirmary. Once he reached the edges of the medical bay, he took a moment to recall the location of the meditation wings – he'd spent some of his convalescence studying the Chu'unthor's schematics – and began making his way, limping and slow.

Good thing the route doesn't take me near the crew quarters where Weave, Trax and the lads are staying. With General Tallis gone and Levy more or less well, Weave had officially taken up his role of medic again, albeit with far more gusto than he had shown in the past few months. He's different. Happier. I suppose it's the boy's influence. Matter of fact, everyone seems to have taken to the lads well.

This made him think of Drake and he smiled despite his discomfort. He seems like a good kid...I wonder what Kali will think of his new name? Stonewall recalled that he had to access an upper level, so he paused before a nearby turbolift, engrossed in his own thoughts.

So much so, that when the lift doors parted to reveal a certain, bearded Jedi Master, he nearly dropped one of his crutches in surprise. It was nearly because before the thing could clatter to the floor, Djinn Altis lifted his fingers and prevented the object from leaving Stone's grasp even as he beckoned him into the lift. After a slight hesitation, Stonewall nodded and stepped inside, indicating the level he was headed towards and wondering what the Jedi Master made of a clone on his way to meditate.

They rode in tight silence for several minutes until Master Altis glanced at him. "How are you feeling?"

How does it look? Stonewall bit back his sarcastic remark and tried to ignore the voice in his head that seemed to think that this was the man responsible for Kali's desire to abandon her place in the Jedi Order. Instead, he gave the bearded Jedi a nod. "Well enough, sir."

"Well enough for what?" Altis' voice was mild, as though he was speaking about the weather or the condition of the hyperlanes.

"I'm able to walk...haven't lost any limbs; to a soldier, that's 'well enough.'"

Rather than take offense at the edge to the clone's voice, the elder Jedi gave a chuckle. "Wise words, indeed, Captain." He indicated the lights on the panel that were flashing their location. "Nearly there."

He was right. Moments later Stonewall felt the lift sink to a stop and he was able to make his way out with minimal fumbling. Behind him, the Jedi Master stood at the turbolift door like it was his job to guide injured clones around his ship. For a moment, it was silent and Stonewall found that the knot in his chest that had been forming since the first time he had the dream was so tight he could hardly breathe. Ask him, you fool. This is more important than her place in the Jedi, and certainly more important than your shabla pride. Ask him.

As he lifted his eyes to the Jedi, the elder man gave him a sad smile that indicated he knew precisely what was coming. "Yes?"
Rather than let Altis' prescience bother him, Stonewall sighed and released his anger in a puff of air. "Have you ever had a...a dream that came true, sir?" Even as he spoke the words they sounded hollow, but the Jedi nodded as though he'd been asked the meaning of life itself; the movement of his head was heavy as he considered.

"I have. Once or twice." Altis gave Stonewall a disarming smile. "One time I dreamed that I would slip and twist my back on a bit of loose tile in my wife's kitchen; I was off my feet for three days, Force be damned."

Stonewall frowned and turned to make his way towards the meditation chamber. If he's not going to take me seriously, why should I bother with him?

However, Altis' next words made him stop in his tracks. "But before that, I had a dream that I would crash a speeder into a white fence beside a nerf pasture and meet a beautiful woman." He smiled, a distant expression even as he stepped out of the lift and took a few paces towards the clone. "I did, you know. And I married her, to boot." His eyes turned to Stonewall and the captain could make out a trace of humor interlaced with a deep, abiding sadness.

But none of that mattered to him at the moment. He shifted his grip on the crutches as they stood in the hallway; beyond them he could make out several chambers – the meditation rooms, he supposed – that were his intended destination. Instead of turning away, Stonewall forced himself to meet Altis' eyes. "The last few nights I've had the same dream, over and over."

The Jedi Master stood and waited.

At some point his hands had started to shake. "I see Kali...on a planet that – well, it's important to us – and she's smiling at me, telling me that she will always love me and not to be afraid, right before she's..." He swallowed. It was so much worse to speak the words aloud but he forced himself. "Right before she's killed. By clones."

"And?"

It was not what he'd expected to hear, and Stonewall was nonplussed, reverting to formality like a reflex. "Sir?"

The Jedi nodded and spread his hands. "And...why does this concern you?"

Is he insane? What part of it doesn't concern me? The captain cleared his throat. "It's disturbing to see the woman I love murdered in cold blood every time I shut my eyes. It makes me wonder if there's more to it than just a dream. I'm afraid for her. I'm worried for my brothers and the boys...and, sir, to tell you the truth...I'm not so certain about myself right now, either."

For what felt like a long while there was absolute silence between the two men, such that Stonewall thought he could hear the thrum of the Chu'unthor's engines – far, far away from their present position – echoing in the chamber around them. At last, Altis nodded and gave him a considering look. "It's true; some say that dreams are a reality that has not yet been actualized. However, there are others who think that they are simply the by-products of our over-imaginative brains."
This isn't really helping. "And what do you think, sir?"

Master Altis gave a shrug, a gesture that looked as though it belonged on a much younger man. "I'm not sure, to tell you the truth. But you see, what I think doesn't matter, Stonewall, as much as what you think." He smiled at the clone's frustration, though it was not a taunting expression, but rather one of deference. "You create your own reality, my friend."

The words were cryptic at best but Stonewall found that he was suddenly too exhausted to worry about Altis or his motives any longer, so he only nodded and thanked the Jedi before making his way to the nearest meditation chamber. As he reached the door, he felt a hand on his shoulder; the Jedi Master had moved across the room without a sound or displacement of air, which the captain found a bit unnerving.

"Remember," he said. "You make your own reality. I know that sounds like nonsense, but you'll understand one day. Soon, I think." He smiled again and gave an easy salute before making his way to the turbolift and leaving Stonewall in stunned silence.

*​

1088 days ABG

"News from the frontlines: Kashyyyk is the newest planet to be set in the sight-line of the Separatists. Jedi General Luminara Unduli and the 41st Elite Corps – recently arrived on the Wookiee homeworld to prevent it from falling victim to the brutal attacks of the Confederacy – have just been joined by Jedi Master Yoda. It is anticipated that, while the Republic should be victorious on Kashyyyk, this skirmish will be one of the most costly of the war. However, the Chancellor remains safely on Coruscant, after a botched kidnapping by General Grievous. We are told that the Jedi High Council is aware of Grievous' location and are preparing to dispatch a strike team; hopefully this will be a decisive end to this long and violent battle.

"In other news: with their Galactic Cup victory well behind them, it seems that the team of Eltair is getting ready for an influx of new-"

Weave sighed and flipped off the broadcast, rolling his neck around and feeling the slight popping sensation that resulted from the motion; he and Traxis had been seated in the infirmary with Crest for far too long, but it was comforting to be with his brothers. Even if Crest is doing his best to corrupt these kids.

"It's pronounced 'shebs,' Keo, and if you want to say 'more than one,' it'd be 'shebse.' The 'e' makes it plural."

Traxis' frown was evident in his voice. "Crest..."

The bald clone sighed in his dramatic fashion. "Just trying to teach them something that they can use, vod. It's not like I said 'shabuir,' or anything. Er..." The lads snickered, even Levy, who still had not spoken for all that he was acting about as normal as could be expected.

Glancing around behind him, Weave cleared his throat. "Why don't you all take a break for now?" It was getting near lunchtime, anyway, and their ability to focus – while much better than "regular" children – was limited when they were hungry. And they were hungry a lot. Why is that? I don't remember being that way at their age. Perhaps it's the food...I always had a feeling they added something to our meals on Kamino that helped with the whole 'docile' thing. Or maybe because this is "real" food and not mostly supplements, it has a different effect. He added the questions to the list in his head of things he wanted to investigate, presuming he ever had the chance.

"Bring me back something sweet," Crest called as they filed out. Once they left he sighed and shifted in his bed. "I think I know what the term 'stir-crazy' really means now...I'm not sure I can handle sitting around here anymore." He looked at Weave. "What do you say, doc?"

The medic studied him. "I don't know. Can you walk without wincing?"

"He couldn't earlier," Traxis replied. "Though it was entertaining to watch him try to hobble to the 'fresher."

"Way to kick a guy when he's down, Trax."

Weave held up his hand. "Look, I know none of us like sitting around, but we don't really have much else to do. In any case, we need to discuss a few things, specifically what we're going to do with the ad'ike."

"They're not going back," Traxis said, shaking his head.

"I know," Weave replied. "But they need more than just lessons in Mando'a, Trax. Their education isn't finished, not by a long shot, and I don't think we can stay here forever, letting them eat up all of Master Altis' food."

Crest leaned forward, knees bent with his elbows resting atop them. "What does the captain think?"

At this, Weave and Traxis exchanged glances, though Weave replied. "He's been...otherwise occupied lately, Crest. You've been in and out of it, but he's been training with Master Altis."

The bald clone lifted a brow. "Force-stuff, I guess. Good for him...maybe he'll get better at swinging that lightsaber around. I always worry that someone's going to lose an arm one of these days."

Traxis frowned. "He should be here, with us. We have a lot to go over..." He trailed off as Ares entered the room, bearing a tray of food. Barely two paces in the door the Twi'lek frowned at Crest.

"I ran into your charges in the cafeteria," he said by way of greeting. "And if I have to tell you one more time to stop getting those boys to bring you that garbage..." His tone was chiding and Crest – to his credit – managed to look repentant.

"I didn't ask, Ares, they offered." He grinned, his former attitude forgotten in the next instant. "And how can anyone say 'no' to those adorable faces?"
The Twi'lek rolled his eyes and handed the bald clone the tray of food before turning to Traxis and Weave, the former of whom was reluctant to meet his gaze. "I asked you both to keep an eye on him."

"It's a full-time job," Weave replied with a sigh. "And unfortunately, there's a lot on my mind at the moment." He gestured to the radio and Ares nodded.
"I've been keeping up with it as well. It sounds like the war is about to be over, even though it feels like everything's getting worse and worse – as far as the fighting goes, I mean." After a moment he looked at Traxis with a thoughtful expression. "Do you...I mean, how do you know if one of your brothers...?"

The scarred clone shook his head, eyes on his feet. "We don't." There was a pause before he looked up and met the Twi'lek's gaze. "Not anymore, at least."

Silence filled the room until Crest made a gagging sound. "Not that I don't appreciate everything you've done, but this is the worst pudding I've ever eaten."

"That's not pudding," Ares replied, still looking at Traxis. "I'll be back in a few hours to check on the patient again. Try not to let him walk any more than he has to." Weave nodded and Ares slipped out of the room without another word.

The moment the Twi'lek was gone, Crest lifted a brow and gave Traxis a knowing look. "That was awkward," he said. "What's the deal? Why are you acting so..." He trailed off as his eyes lit up and a sly grin spread across his face. "Ah. I see. Well, it appears you're not as immune to some people's charms as you'd like to think, eh vod?"

Traxis frowned. "If you know what's good for you, you'll end this line of questioning right now, baldy."

"I'm not worried," Crest replied in a dismissive tone. "I mean, I'm already in the infirmary." He lifted a brow at Weave, who shook his head.

No one's business but Trax's. "You know, Crest, none of us gave you any grief after we left Aruna and you didn't stop moping for three days." He smiled inwardly as the bald clone glowered. That shut him up. Traxis shot Weave a look that said much the same thing, in addition to thank you.

*​

1089 days ABG

Already, Stonewall could feel the transformation in his body. After three days of allowing himself to be taught by the Jedi Master, the clone was growing more and more confident in his abilities even though he knew it would be a bit longer before he was completely healed. But it's better. I feel better about...well, everything. Perhaps I was just agitated from being cooped up in sickbay for so long.

A sudden rap against his shoulder made his eyes jerk open and he blinked at the elder man. "What was that for?"

"Just getting your attention, son," Altis replied in a mild voice. They were seated in one of the meditation chambers aboard the Chu'unthor, backs facing the broad windows as Stonewall made his best efforts to accelerate his body's healing.

Kriff. That was pretty hard for an old guy, even a Jedi Master. He sighed and nodded. "Right. Focusing."

A few moments of deep breathing brought Stonewall's mind back to the here and now, allowing him to shift his focus inward on the clusters of damaged sinews and muscle tissue that still ached. If he concentrated, he could sense the vestiges of his injuries that remained within his cells. Pinpointing a certain spot of damage, he allowed himself to become a conduit for the Force, letting it move through him, to help his body regenerate what it had lost. It was working.

Slowly.

But more than that, it's getting easier to do all of this. I'm not struggling as much as I was. Perhaps I can really handle it, after all. As much as he'd wanted to, he had not yet picked up the saber again, though Altis had promised to teach him what he could when he was healed.

Maybe when she gets back, I'll have some new tricks to show her. Despite himself, the captain smiled.

Thwack.

Stonewall winced.

"Perhaps it's time for a break." The Jedi Master's voice was jovial, as it usually was, and Stonewall opened his eyes and blinked for a moment to clear his vision before he managed to get to his feet. The crutches leaned against the far wall and if he was careful he didn't need them now. Altis moved to the window and surveyed the stars, as he liked to do, and after a moment the clone captain joined him. They stood in silence for a few minutes before Altis chuckled and glanced at Stonewall, raising his brow.

"Sir?"

The Jedi shook his head. "I was just thinking of Kali's father...of what he would say if you met him."

It was something that Stonewall had considered before as a purely theoretical matter. I don't have any idea of what kind of person he was. He studied the stars. "I'd hope that if his daughter loved me, that would be enough for him to at least tolerate me."

"Oh no, son," Altis replied with a grin. "Jonas was so protective of her. Despite being a Jedi, he would've despised you, or any man who laid a hand on Kalinda...it wouldn't be personal, mind you," he added to Stonewall's look. "But that's what it means to be a father. At least, that's what it meant to Jonas. But he loved that girl more than his own life, more than anything else."

"Well then we'd have that in common, at least."

"Perhaps," the Jedi said. "But when it comes to your own child...well, it's a different matter altogether."

Something in his tone caught Stonewall's attention. "Do you have children, sir?"

Altis nodded and his gaze grew distant. "A few. Scattered here and there, living their own lives." He smiled. "They're alive and happy, which is all I can hope for in the end."

"You don't miss them?" Though the idea of children had always seemed foreign, Stonewall figured that no parent wanted to be too far away from their offspring.

"Every moment," he replied. "But I didn't bring them into the galaxy to keep them cupped in my hand; eventually, they must learn to find their own ways." He gave the clone a speculative look. "Letting go of something you love isn't an easy thing to do."

"I imagine it's not," Stonewall replied, shifting where he stood. "But I really can't say." What would it be like, I wonder? He thought of Drake and the others; while it was rewarding for him to see them growing into their own people, they were brothers, not offspring. I don't know of any clone who has kids, though I suspect there might be a few. It's a big army, after all. And if one of us can become Force-sensitive, I suppose anything's possible.

The realization struck him that if Kali joined the Altisians, such a thing might be a possibility for them. I'd never allowed myself to even consider it before; so much about my future – and hers too – is uncertain, but perhaps...He swallowed. It was almost incomprehensible. Children. Our children. He wondered if they would have Kali's eyes, then shook his head to clear it. Speculation. No use in it right now. Besides...I'm not sure if she can have children.

The subject had come up only once before, when they had started the physically intimate aspect of their relationship; she'd mentioned something about an implant – he couldn't recall the specifics at the moment, as his attention had been elsewhere – but the conclusion of the conversation had been that her getting pregnant was not something they'd have to think about. At the time it had been enough.

But now. Would she want to? Would I? It's not like I'd be around long enough to raise them. It was a sobering thought that put an immediate halt to his musings. There's no way I could do that to her, or to a child. It would be unforgivable.

As he was turning to ask Altis another question, his comm began to chirrup. He'd never stopped wearing it, despite the fact that it seemed a silly thing to do in the Chu'unthor's infirmary, far from anyone who would give him an order. As both men noted the flashing light, Stonewall's brows knitted. Secure transmission from the Core...odd channel, though. Nodding to Altis, he flicked the device and watched a small, blue figure appear at his wrist.

"Execute Order 66."

With those words, Stonewall's fragile peace was shattered.

Unbidden, his hand reached for his side, for the blaster that was not there – had not been there in days – before he checked himself and thought.

The Jedi have become a threat to the safety of the Republic and are to be removed with lethal force. That was the basic notion of the command, which he didn't remember learning, but such was the nature of contingency orders. Programmed into us as if we're clankers. Stonewall took a breath and shook his head. It can't be true. I know enough of Jedi to know that they're not capable of something like that; Kali aside, Obi-Wan is a good man, as are General Windu and Master Altis. And General Unduli, General Tallis and Zara...even the little Togrutan Padawan...surely they're all innocent of anything like that? This is wrong. The knowledge thrummed beneath the topmost layer of his thoughts, filling him with the conviction that the Jedi were not a threat and that the order must be a mistake of some kind.
But he still had to know if she was safe.

Only peripherally aware that Altis was saying something to him, Stone took a deep breath and peered through the part of his brain that wanted him to react to the order, reaching within himself to tap into the Force again while at the same time trying to ignore the thudding dread that had begun rushing through his entire body.

Kali?

Kalinda?

Nothing.

A void. An empty spot where she should be. He found it difficult to breathe as his dream overwhelmed his waking eyes. No. No, I won't believe it. He tried to reach her again, but it was hard, so much harder than it had ever been, and it was not due to time or space or distance, but rather a black and choking terror, a palpable pain that was ripping the Force to shreds around him.

And then he heard her voice, just once; a clarion call of bewilderment followed by an intense pain that made him drop to his knees.

One word: Milo?

Then, nothing.

*****​

A/N: On Altis: there's really nothing in the canon (EU or otherwise - that I could find) that talks about his wife, so I made most of that up. Hopefully it "fits." I'd love to hear what you think!

So we've seen Stone's reaction to the Order...what about the other guys and the cadets? And what's really happening on Ambria? Tune in next week to find out!

 

[incoherent scream]

All I know of Altis' wife is from the No Prisoners book where he talks about her briefly, including to Anakin. I think she's been dead a while? And she sometimes used his lightsaber to cut wayward tree branches at their home

Also [incoherent scream]

 

@gracesonnet: Ooh, I don't remember that part of NP, so I'll have to reread. Thanks for the tip! (And thank you for reading and commenting! You rock, girl! )​

*****​

Chapter Nineteen: Not With A Bang​

1089 days ABG

“Milo?”

Even as she said his name Kali felt the oddest sensation through her armor on the side of her left knee: a heat that bloomed into a churning flame. Her mouth opened but no sound came out as she collapsed forward; above her, Milo kept firing at some distant point beyond them, and she could see that his face was blank and determined even as her vision was starting to swirl from the pain. All she could do was watch as he fired his deece again and again with his trademark accuracy and as she tried to scramble to her feet she felt the shock of the commandos' injuries in the Force.

And then there was another emotion, young and raw and angry. A bolt of blue plasma leaped for Milo as he paused to adjust his aim a fraction of an inch; she heard his yelp of pain, watched the scorch-mark appear on his armored chest even as he fired one last time, felt the ground tremble when he collapsed beside her.

“Milo!”

Abruptly, everything was still, save for the wind that gently lifted the edges of her hair and the furious, desperate lash of her heartbeat against her ribs as she made her way to him; there was pain, so much pain – she could feel it now, not just inside her body but all around her, as if every molecule in the air was shrieking in agony and betrayal – but all she could see were Milo's eyes as he tracked her progress. Her knee wasn't working, so she had to crawl towards him in the yellow dust and through the ashes of the fire that had blown out, encasing them in sudden darkness.

“Milo....”

She put her hands on his face and tried to send him a measure of calm, but it was impossible next to the terror and loss that she felt all around them.

“I'm sorry, Kalinda,” he said at last. His voice was steady and his eyes on her were clear even though part of her brain realized that she was weeping. “I couldn't stop him in time.”

“What happened?” It was all she could think to say. Kali was dimly aware of Honi and Zara's frantic approach but she could look at no one but the young man before her.

His eyes closed then opened in a long blink, even the small movement slow and halting. “Order 66...if the Jedi attempt to harm the Republic, we're to kill them. Direct from the Chancellor himself.”

She could tell that it was costing him a great deal of effort to speak so she shook her head. “Never mind, Mi. We'll sort that out later...Honi?”

“Master...your knee.” The red-haired woman and her Padawan were beside her now but Kali shook her head again.

“Later, Honi...Milo....”

But he had not stopped looking at her, and reached forward to put a hand on her arm. “The others...they will kill you, Kalinda. They will follow orders.” His eyes flicked behind them and the three Jedi turned to see two commandos lying in the sulfur-colored dust of Ambria, their chests lifting and falling despite the blaster-wounds they each wore; they looked unconscious, but she couldn't feel anything from the Force.

Milo...you shot your own brothers. Kali shook her head again and gritted her teeth. “Honi, he needs your help.” Zara was beside her, a soft hand on her shoulder; the touch a small comfort.

Her former Padawan knelt beside Milo and placed a hand on his cheek. She closed her eyes and concentrated. Kali watched his face change from a look of pain and fear to one of peace. After a moment Honi looked at the dark-haired Jedi.

“There's nothing I can do, Kalinda.” Her voice was tight and quiet. Zara made a sobbing sound but seemed to swallow it down and Kali reached for Milo's hand, gripping it as hard as she could as if it would make any difference.

But he spoke before she could, his eyes on hers were steady and unafraid. “Thank you, Kali.” He gave her a small smile. “For everything.”

And he was gone.

*​

Zara knew that it was over but she couldn't help reaching through the Force anyway, hoping by some small miracle that the clone's life would not be extinguished. But he really is gone. Poor Milo. She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment before opening them and looking at her master, who was sitting back on her knees and studying Milo with a blank expression. It was silent for what seemed like hours before Kalinda closed her eyes, seeming to reach within herself to tug on some nameless source of calm that Zara had never seen before.

When she opened her eyes again, her voice was quiet. “We need to secure the others,” she said even as she tried to push herself up off the ground, her arms and face coated with ash and dust. “They won't be unconscious forever, and I don't want to take any chances right now.”

Master Tallis got to her own feet and stepped over to the other Jedi, giving her hand so that Kalinda could rise. Several fumbling moments later the dark-haired Jedi was seated beside the ashes of the fire and her former Padawan was bending to examine her knee.

But Kalinda was firm. “Honi. The commandos.”

“Your injury...”

“Will be fine for a few more minutes,” Kalinda said. “Zara, go with her and be careful. Make sure they don't have any weapons or communications devices – take their helmets and gauntlets as well.” Zara could see the tightness of her Master's jaw at these words but she nodded after a moment before turning and beckoning to Zara.

They crossed the gritty sand that crunched beneath their boots and made their way to the site of the fallen clones, whom Zara could still sense in the Force, though their energy was weak and the Force itself was muddied.

As much as she wanted to keep quiet, she could not hold her thoughts in check. “Master...what's going on? Why would they do such a thing?”

Again, the red-haired Jedi's face tightened but she shook her head. “I don't know, Zara. I didn't sense anything malicious from them, or Milo.” Zara might have been mistaken, but she thought that her master's voice broke on his name. When they reached the commandos Zara noted how their armor was marked with carbon-scouring and she realized that Milo had managed to hit each of them at the soft patch of black body-suit that was between the shoulders and torso. Both sides. He was a good shot.

“Zara.” Her master's voice brought her back to the moment and the Nautolan girl crouched beside her, watching as Honi – I wonder if she'd mind if I called her by her name? – began to unload the first soldier's weapons before dragging him to the ship, leaning him against the side. Archer's helmet had fallen to the ground so Zara bent to retrieve it, going to the other one – Ferro – and doing the same thing.

In addition to the other shots he'd taken, Ferro had been hit in the chest. She could see his eyelids starting to flutter already so she used the Force to pull his weapons from him and tossed them far beyond their position. “Master...Ferro's waking.”

Honi was beside her in an instant, her face drawn in concentration as she placed a hand on his cheek. His eyes opened once, briefly, before closing again; his body slumped and the rise and fall of his chest was easy. “Neither one will wake for some time, now. They're wounded, but they'll both live,” she said in a bitter voice. “Another virtue of the Katarn armor, I suppose.”

“I think this is everything,” Zara replied. A moment later they rose in unison. As they walked Zara tried to brush off the remaining dirt from her pants; the air was even cooler now, but the breeze was almost easy. There was no moon but the stars were brilliant and she again noted how the Force was eluding her. A glance at Honi revealed nothing about the other Jedi's perspective on the matter. “Master...I can't feel the Force...not well, at least.”

“Neither can I. It's this planet....” Honi frowned and looked at her; suddenly she paused and pressed her hands to Zara's shoulders, her pale face close and earnest. “Zara...I don't need the Force to know that something is very wrong right now. I have a feeling that we are about to be tested, so you must be strong. Stronger than you've ever been.”

Zara swallowed. The other Jedi's fear was acrid for all that she wast trying to set it aside. She's scared too? I thought nothing got to her. “I won't let you down.”

There was a moment of silence before Honi nodded and straightened, stepping forward again. When she spoke, it was almost to herself. “I know.”

*​

For a long time, all that Kali was aware of was Milo because it was easier to dwell on her fallen friend than to consider the larger, more pressing issues that had cropped up with such alarming speed. Gradually, though, she was able to think again. Why did the Chancellor issue such an order to the army? The Jedi...harm the Republic? I can't believe it. Her breath hitched as she attempted to sit upright.

The only thing I'm certain of is that we must be very, very careful.

The pain in her left knee was almost blinding but it also gave her something to focus on besides the yawning chasm in her heart – it had gone from a blistering, scattered feeling of fear and confusion to nothing – and she realized with a start that it must be the deaths of thousands of Jedi. It was a surreal, almost incomprehensible thought.

She shivered and looked at the stars. Maybe I should be thankful that I can't feel much here on Ambria but the dark side. It must be beyond devastating. Naturally her thoughts turned to the others: Yoda, Mace, Luminara, Anakin, Ahsoka, Kit....Obi-Wan. Though she figured it was a futile effort she tried to reach him through the Force, but there was only the blank silence that choked around her, threatening strangulation. Nothing. No one. The air was growing cooler and she shivered again and wrapped her hands around her sides as her emotions threatened to overwhelm her.

Already she could hear Honi and Zara returning, so even as she felt her throat grow tight with an impending sob, she pushed the feelings away. I can't afford to become lost in grief now. So much depends on me staying strong. Later. I'll deal with it later. All that matters is right now. But beneath the surface of everything that she was, Kali's heart was filled with an ache of loss that cut so deep, she thought she should have collapsed into a thousand pieces, nothing more than a pile of ash that could be scattered on the wind.

And then she thought of Stone; his almost-golden eyes swam before hers and she found the knot in her chest unravel, just a little bit. He's alive, safe on the Chu'unthor. I know that he and the others won't cause harm to Master Altis or any of the Jedi there, and I'll find my way back to him, no matter what. The knowledge grounded her and she found herself able to breathe even as the others returned to her side.

Honi was all business as she instructed Kali to stretch out her left leg; the dark-haired Jedi tried not to wince at the sudden inhalation that Zara made at the sight of her knee. “It's bad, isn't it?” Oddly enough it didn't hurt at the moment, though she suspected it was due to the adrenaline that was coursing through her veins.

“I've seen worse,” was Honi's clipped reply as there was a moment of cool air hitting her leg, then the gentle touch of the Force. “You never do anything half-assed, do you, Master?”

Zara's shock was tangible and Kali managed a weak chuckle despite everything. “Mind your language, Honi. There are ladies present.” Honi made no reply as she worked and Kali looked at Zara, all trace of levity gone from her voice with her next words. “What of Ferro and Archer?”

“Unconscious for now,” the blue-skinned girl replied. “We removed their weapons and comms as you said.”

Her tone was wavering and Kalinda hurried to continue in order to keep the girl's focus in the present. “Good. When they wake up, I want to question them...right now what we need most of all is information. I need to know what is happening and what has happened.” She felt pain flare in her knee and shifted for a moment before growing still at a warning look from her former apprentice. Taking a deep breath, Kali continued. “After we learn more about....the situation, we can make a plan from there.”

“What about Milo?” Zara's voice was quiet.

Kali felt her eyes prick but held her sorrow in check. I can grieve later. Now I must be strong. “I don't know, Zara,” she admitted. “I said some words...” She looked at his body; she'd closed his eyes and laid him flat as best she could, given her own incapacity, and he appeared to be sleeping. Milo. I'm so sorry. I never wanted you to lay down your life for me. I don't know if I could ever repay that debt.

That thought was enough to silence her until Honi exhaled and sat back, rubbing her forehead; when she drew her hand back, some of Kali's blood was on her skin. “That's all I can do right now without passing out, Master.”

“Please, Honi...just 'Kalinda.' And thank you.” Kali looked at her knee, noting how Honi had wrapped it with supplies from Milo's medipac: nothing much, just a bacta patch and some bandages, but it was enough. At any rate the sharpest edge of the pain was dulled. She took a deep breath and looked at the two younger women before her. “Like I said, we need information. Zara: I want you to go to the Wayfarer and see what you can learn...don't call anyone just yet, but you should tune into any distress frequencies or the HoloNet.” She watched as Zara nodded and made to rush to the ship.

“And us?” Honi's voice was quiet as she met Kali's gaze.

The dark-haired Jedi sighed and held out her hand; Honi pulled her to her feet and Kalinda pointed towards the commandos. “We need answers.”

“They tried to kill you, Kalinda. In cold blood.”

Kali shut her eyes and shook her head. “If it was an order, they couldn't refuse it, Honi.” Not every clone can be expected to act as independently as Mi or the others.

Her former Padawan's eyes narrowed as she looked at Milo's body. “He did.”

Milo. “That's different. He is – was – family to me.” She exhaled and tightened her jaw. “There will be time for debate later. Now we have to act.” The red-haired Jedi offered her shoulder as Kali leaned against her. It hurt to walk and for several minutes all she could manage was an ungraceful hobble but gradually she began to gather the Force around her – as best she could, given the hostile energies that permeated the planet – hoping to further deaden the pain. It worked, but she could feel the effort was sapping her more than it should have as they stumbled across the gritty sand.

We have to leave here as soon as we can, for a number of reasons. She pictured Stonewall and the others – Weave, Traxis, Crest, and the boys – and took a breath. We must get back to them.

As Zara had said, Ferro and Archer were unconscious, leaning upright against the bulkhead of their ship. Without their buckets they looked like regular men, younger than Stonewall or the rest of her squad, but brothers all the same. She noted that their hands were resting loose at their sides. “Will you see if they have cuffs in their kits? I don't want to take any chances.”

Honi helped Kalinda sit on a nearby piece of bulkhead before searching the clones; moments later she was binding their hands with two sets of duranium cuffs. “Their injuries are not life-threatening,” the red-haired Jedi said as she returned to Kali's side. “But it seems that between the two, Ferro is in better shape.”

“He also seemed to be the one in charge. Let's just worry about him right now. Can you....?”

Kali felt the other woman's gentle push of the Force against the clone's mind and watched his eyes snap open, locking onto her; as he did so his jaw tightened and he raised his chin, but he was silent. She got the sense that he was preparing himself for something. The Jedi exchanged glances, Honi's gaze seeming to say, what are you waiting for? Taking a deep breath, Kali looked at him again.

But before she could speak he shook his head. “Ferro, Commando, Teroch Squad, number RC-6520.” His voice was cold and neutral.

Kalinda shifted forward, wincing as she did so, and put a hand on his lower arm, noting as he flinched at her touch. “Please, Ferro. I just want to know what's going on. Milo said that the order was to exterminate all Jedi because they're a harm to the Republic. Is that true?”

“Ferro, Commando, Teroch Squad, number RC-6520.”

Honi sighed. “This isn't working. He's not going to tell you anything.”

As Kalinda studied him, she realized that he was doing the same to her. This could be Stonewall, or Crest, or any of them. There must be a way for me to get through to him. Her knee was starting to throb but she ignored it as she regarded the clone, who – after several minutes of her scrutiny – seemed to grow visibly uneasy. He's young and frightened, of me and Honi. What does he think we're going to do? This thought made her blink while she leaned back and considered.

Finally she lifted her hand and tried to make her voice as gentle as she could, despite the fact that the language of Mando'a was by its nature guttural and rough. “Udesii, Ferro,” she said. Take it easy. “We don't want to hurt you. Please try to understand that.”

Again, he shook his head. However, after a moment he lifted his eyes to her. “Kalinda Halcyon: Jedi Knight. Commanding officer of 'Shadow Squad,' 7th Sky Corps. Rumored romantic connections with Jedi High General, Obi-Wan Kenobi as well as command unit CC-3077. Female. Height: one point six meters. Age: mid thirties. Childhood injury in left knee.” When he finished his speech he held her gaze.

For a moment she was speechless. It was chilling to hear her entire person laid bare in such simple terms, particularly her injury – even more particularly the private aspects of her life that she'd thought were just being spread as idle gossip – and the realization that she was a statistic in a GAR database was a slap in the face. I guess the Jedi are no different from the clones in that regard. As disturbing as it is, I suppose it's the wisest course to know your commanding officer's weakness as it is to exploit those of your enemy. Knowledge is power, as usual.

“Thorough, aren't they?” Honi muttered beside her. Kali shot her a glare and the red-haired woman shrugged.

Looking back at the clone, Kali pushed aside her own feelings and nodded to him, keeping her voice as calm as possible. “That's me in a nutshell, I guess, but we both know there's more to a life than a few short phrases, Ferro. For instance, I know that you and your brothers can eat more than an outsider would ever imagine, and that you have a taste for sweet things, particularly uj-cake. I don't care for it, myself, but I can understand the appeal.”

His eyes narrowed at this – she hoped as an indication of consideration rather than distrust – and she continued. “Lightning and storms bother you because they remind you of Kamino. I've been there, and I can understand; it's a frightening place in many ways. The sound of the rain never stops, even in your dreams.” Kali took a breath before she continued, knowing that he would remember every single word she spoke with perfect accuracy, and hoping that something was making it through the part of him that wanted only to carry out his order.

“The times spent with your brothers are the best of any day, and you cannot explain the grief you feel when they pass, but you carry on anyway. You act as though you are not afraid of anything, because that's the only way to fulfill your missions, but you feel fear every time you open your eyes, every time you take a breath. It never goes away, and you think it never will.”

Ferro's eyes were wide and she could see that his breath was growing short, but she kept talking. “From your earliest memory you were given a number, and for a long time that was your only identity. But one day something changed, and you found a name and added it to who – not what, but who – you are.” She gave him a small smile. “That was a good day, Ferro. A good change. But there is always going to be change...as long as you're alive.”

“And how long might that be?” They were the first true words he'd spoken to her, not orders or stats recited from memory and the quiet tone of his voice made her heart clench with sorrow.

“If I had my way, a very long time.” Another breath helped her relax and she tried to keep her words gentle. “You are more than what you've always been told, Ferro. So much more. I want you to understand that you have a choice, always. Please tell me what you know.”

For a long moment they looked at each other, then he shook his head again. “Ferro, Commando, Teroch Squad, number RC-6520.” His eyes on hers were conflicted, but his tone was firm and she realized that those words were all he was going to say to her anymore.

She sighed and looked at Honi, who moved to kneel before him again. Moments later Ferro was asleep and her former Padawan was helping her to her feet. After she made sure that Archer was still unconscious, she nodded to Honi. “Let's check on Zara.”

*​

As soon as she set foot on board the Wayfarer, the very first thing Zara noticed was that the comm was chirping. A few strides took her to the console, where she activated the incoming emergency transmission. Initially there was only a faint hissing sound, laced with static – interference from the planet's atmosphere, she supposed – but as she was about to shut off the device, the Padawan heard a familiar sound: the cadence was one that all Jedi were taught during their earliest days. It was a coded message, encrypted along secure channels that only a Jedi would have access to, emanating from a beacon deep within the core of the Temple.

It was a call to return home.

At first she frowned at the console beneath her hand, wondering if perhaps she'd gotten her codes mixed-up somehow, but the icy fist of dread that had clenched within her gut told her otherwise. She thought of the commandos that had attempted to murder Kalinda and shivered. Milo said they got orders to kill all of the Jedi because of an uprising? A Jedi rebellion? And now we're supposed to go home? That doesn't make any sense. She shut off the comm and shook her head as if to clear it, her lekku swaying with the motion, then turned her attention to other matters.

Sliding into the seat at the co-pilot's station, Zara frowned again as she scrolled through the latest feed from the HoloNet. Sports...business....life....weather....Her eyes narrowed. No 'Jedi Watch?' That's odd; and there's no mention of the war at all, either. The order just happened....I wonder if it's too soon? The broadcast was full of useless information and she shut it off with a sigh, leaning back in the chair and looking out into the Ambrian night.

The moment that she stopped focusing on other things, the terror began creeping back into her mind. What's going on? What's happening? Why did those clones shoot Kalinda? Her heart began to race but she shook her head, recalling her master's words. No. I can't give in to fear now. There must be something else I can do. She frowned at the console for a moment more before accessing the GAR database. Maybe I can learn something real here. What she saw made her skin grow cold.

It was a list of Jedi.

Of deceased Jedi.

Hands shaking, she scrolled through the names, many of which she recognized and many more she did not, but it didn't matter. There were so many and she could see more names appearing each time the screen refreshed. Zara bit back a sob and began to search through the network for more information. After a few moments she was able to uncover what appeared to be a transcription of an emergency meeting of the Senate and the more she read, the more numb she felt. I have to tell Master Tallis and Kalinda. As she was rising from the chair, she noticed the other women outside, heading in her direction.

Zara ran to meet them; one look at her master was all that was needed before the Jedi exchanged glances and followed the Nautolan girl to the Wayfarer, where Kalinda sat at the helm and Zara showed them the list of their fallen Jedi. However, rather than a transcription, she was able to pull up a recorded speech from the Senate. The three Jedi listened in mute horror as the Chancellor's words echoed within the cabin of their ship.

“The Jedi have conspired to create the shadow of Separatism using one of their own as the enemy's leader. They had hoped to grind the Republic into ruin. But the hatred in their hearts could not be hidden forever. Our loyal clone troopers contained the insurrection within the Jedi Temple and quelled uprisings on a thousand worlds. The remaining Jedi will be hunted down and defeated...”

It went on for some time. When it ended, Zara shut off the audio as the sound of thunderous applause filled the space between the three Jedi.

Kalinda spoke first. Her voice was a whisper; at some point her hand had lifted to cover her mouth and her eyes were wide as she mouthed the words that the new Emperor had spoken.

The war is over.

*****​

Long note today:

On Milo...aside from Stonewall, he's my only OC clone that crosses over both time-lines in my 'verse. It was an incredibly difficult decision to end his life in this time-line, but in the end...sigh. There were a lot of reasons that I won't go into, but suffice it to say that I don't take a main character's death lightly. It still makes me sad, though.

Palpatine's speech was taken from Wookieepedia; it's the “Declaration of a New Order” that was written by Dan Wallace and Pablo Hidalgo. It's also a longer (better, imo) version than the one heard in the movie, or seen in the ROTS novelization. There's more of this speech (a different part) that you'll see in a later chapter.

Finally, the chapter title is taken from the poem “The Hollow Men,” by T.S. Eliot:

“This is the way the world ends...not with a bang, but a whimper.”

It's a fantastic piece of writing – quite relevant to this era of SW 'history' – that's definitely worth a look. (I kind of feel like an English teacher for recommending all this poetry, but much of it was inspirational in the writing of Bastion, so I'd like to share it with you!)

As always, I sincerely appreciate your reviews, thoughts and comments. It means a lot to me to know that people are reading and enjoying my work.

Next time: back to the rest of Shadow Squad!

 

Anyone watch It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia? I'm sure there are Youtube clips of Charlie screaming his characteristic, high-pitched, "freak out" scream.

Just imagine that right now.

 

"laloga likes this"
That's just sadistic, that is Now you're just deriving pleasure from your readers' pain and anguish.

 

@gracesonnet: Derive pleasure from my reader's pain and anguish? Never! I'm shocked and appalled at the accusation. Shocked, I tell you. ​

​

In all seriousness, I'm truly grateful you take the time to let me know what you think so far, thus the "liking" of your comments. I love hearing what you have to say! (Even the freak out screams.) ​

*****​

Chapter Twenty: The Old Lie ​

1089 days ABG

“Is that someone's comm?” Crest lifted his head at the sudden, insistent chirping sound. The room, which had been bright with the laughter of the boys and the elder clones, quieted in an instant.

Traxis looked at Weave and the medic nodded. “I think it's mine...” He stood and made his way to the area where he'd stacked their armor and pulled out his vambrace.

Haven't even checked in with the GAR, Traxis thought with a flash of guilt. I wonder if they're calling to tell us we're all getting court-martials...or worse. Guess that's that. Though I don't see how; Kalinda told the Jedi we were taking some time to recuperate after the rescue, and it's only been a week.

Weave frowned. “Emergency transmission, secure channel, but....no, that can't be right.”

“What?” Traxis asked, his musings forgotten at the odd tone of his brother's voice.

The medic frowned again and scratched his head absently. “Unless I'm very much mistaken, it looks like a Separatist code.” Traxis and Crest exchanged glances then looked back at Weave.

“A Seppie code?” Risky glared at the comlink as though it were about to spring to life. Keo and Finn frowned but said nothing. Drake tilted his head and knitted his brows.

“Well....what are you waiting for?” Crest said, waving his hand. “Let's hear it.” The tension in the room was palpable; Traxis thought he could hear someone's heartbeat very loud in his ears and his stomach was doing an uncomfortable dance in his gut. However, he shook off the feelings and listened.

“Execute Order 66.”

For several seconds, no one moved or spoke.

Until Crest swore.

This seemed to jolt the others into motion and Weave looked at Traxis, his brows lifted over wide, almost panicked eyes. “We need to find Stonewall.”

At this, Drake stood up. “I'll go.” The other boys looked at him but he ignored them as he watched Weave nod; he slipped out of the room in the next moment.

Traxis felt a wave of nausea pass through him, as if his body was physically rebelling against its own inaction. I can't remember learning that one, but I know it. I know what I'm supposed to do. There were no Jedi around, so Trax had a moment to think rather than react. It can't be true...the Jedi, traitors to the Republic? He tried to imagine Kalinda or the little Nautolan girl in such a position, but couldn't picture such a thing. I can't believe it. After everything I've experienced, after everything I've seen of the galaxy and of the Jedi...it's wrong. This order is wrong. I don't know what's going on, but I do know that I can't – I won't – be someone's pawn any more, especially not for something like this.

Traxis looked at the boys. But them? What will they think? “Do you know what that means, ad'ike?”

They were all sitting arrow-straight, their faces turned to the adult clones but Traxis could see that their attentions were inward, debating. That's good. Questioning is a good start. He tried not to laugh at the idea; there was no way he could have managed something like that – disobeying a direct order – at that stage of development. But they've been through more than any others at their age that I know of.

Risky nodded, as did the others, except Levy, whose expression was neutral. The first boy frowned. “The Jedi are traitors and we're to eliminate them.” He said the words calmly, as if he was speaking of what he'd eaten for lunch and the others nodded again, the movement was almost in unison.

The elder clones exchanged glances and didn't need the Force to share their thoughts. We have to be very, very careful.

To start them off, Crest cleared his throat and spoke in his most genial tone, as if he were on the verge of sharing a joke, but hadn't quite worked out how he was going to phrase the punchline. “That's what the order says, but is that really the case?” At the boys' look of confusion he elaborated. “Orders aren't always right.”

“But...” It was Finn, who shook his head, his face drawn into a frown. “But they are. They're orders. We have to follow. We don't have a choice.”

Keo nodded and looked around. “There are Jedi on this ship....are we going to...?” His fingers twitched as if reaching for a blaster and Traxis grimaced.

No kriffing way I'm letting them go on like this. He rose and stood before them, resting on his knees and meeting each of their eyes in turn, noting how they clustered together and seemed to take a collective step away from him, uncertainty evident on their faces. “I want you to listen,” he began, keeping his voice calm and even. “Most orders are in place to protect us and to allow us to do our jobs. Most. But there are some orders that you shouldn't follow, because they're wrong.” Their expressions were blank and he bit back his frustration with Kamino, the Republic, and the army in order to focus on the four boys sitting before him.

But before he could speak again, Risky shook his head. “That's treason, Traxis.” His tone had grown deadly serious and Traxis could hear his own earlier doubts echoed in the lad's voice.

He felt Weave come beside him and heard his brother's voice a moment later. “You are more than your ability to follow orders. You are individuals, with freedoms and rights and the ability to choose. Traxis, Crest and I....we've all chosen to leave the GAR and make sure that you don't come to any harm. You chose to remain here and not go back to Kamino, just like Milo chose to return to the Core with the Jedi.”

Even as Weave said these words, Traxis felt agitation pierce him. Kalinda and Zara...Milo. Even General Tallis. Are they all dead? Would Milo....? He frowned. No. No, he would never. But it was a disturbing thought nonetheless.

Weave had taken a moment to pause and let his words sink in. This wasn't flash-training; this lesson was not one you could learn by route or memorization. “We are all individuals. If you learn nothing else from this moment, I want you all to know that you have a choice, and that each choice you make determines what kind of people you are. What kind of men you'll be.”

The boys were silent as they looked at one another, still standing apart from the adult clones; Traxis could see the debate in their eyes, and part of his brain reluctantly considered what he would have to do if they decided to try and kill all of the Jedi on the Chu'unthor. Restrain them. Get them off the shabla ship, somehow, until we can knock some sense into them. But I hope it won't come to that; they're just boys...they don't understand. Fierfek...I've only recently begun to understand. He sighed and rubbed at his forehead, trying to determine what else he could say that would counter-act a lifetime of conditioning. He shot Weave a frustrated glance and noted that his expression was mirrored in the medic's face.

Suddenly, Levy shook his head and stepped forward, moving to stand beside Weave. He gave the others a knowing look and pulled back the sleeve of his shirt that revealed his implant before putting his hand on Weave's shoulder and standing at a modified parade rest. I'm with them. It wouldn't have been any more clear if he'd shouted the words. This action – more than anything else – seemed to convince the boys; they glanced at one another again before coming forward. Risky was frowning and shaking his head while Keo and Finn seemed reluctant to move away from each other.

Traxis felt his shoulders relax. “You won't regret it, ad'ike.” He gave the lads a smile, which they returned with caution. There was still debate in their eyes, but he could see that their brother's action had made an impact. None too soon, either. I'll wager things are going to get crazy...again.

*​

“Stonewall?”

His eyes were closed but he could still see her body lying beneath the feet of his brothers, her skin scorched with blaster-fire and her eyes empty. No...no, it can't be. Milo would never do such a thing.

“Stonewall.”

It was as if a fly was buzzing in his ear and he swatted it away, engrossed in his own thoughts. But he wanted a promotion. He wanted a new life, a different life and she said his name as if....what if he did? What if he killed her? And I sent them off together. I may as well have pulled the trigger myself. It was growing difficult to breathe and his chest was tight; his heart was beating against the cage of his body like some wild thing, desperate to be released.

There was a sudden slap of pain against the side of his face and he glanced up, stunned, to see Master Altis looking at him. “At last.” The Jedi's voice was calm, but Stone could see in the elder man's eyes that things were as bad as he thought. Altis nodded to the comlink in the captain's grip. “What exactly did that mean?”

Stonewall swallowed. I have to calm down. I'm no use to anyone if I'm a wreck. “Contingency order, in case of a Jedi...uprising or rebellion against the Republic. I don't remember learning it, but that's how much of our training went.” He shook his head. Action, not words. “I need a ship.”

But Altis had moved against the window, leaning against it for support even as he laid his hand over his heart; his eyes were closing as if someone was shrieking in his ear. Stone moved to help the elder man, who seemed – in that moment – fragile as glass. “All of them,” he whispered, staring out at the stars. “The others....” His eyes closed for a moment before he took a breath and looked at Stonewall. Without another word the two men turned and hurried to the turbolift. When the doors opened, they were greeted by Drake, who looked panicked.

“Stonewall....”

Stonewall took his arm. “I know, ad'ika.” The men stepped aboard the lift and a chilling thought occurred to the former captain. “Your brothers?”

Drake swallowed. “I left as soon as Weave got the message.” His eyes were tight and he shot Altis a nervous glance; Stonewall noticed that he showed no hostility at all towards the Jedi, but he wondered if it would be so for the other boys. After a moment Drake spoke in a small voice. “Do you know if Kalinda or...the others are okay?”

“I hope they are,” Stonewall replied. It was all he could bring himself to say. When they reached the infirmary, he looked at Altis. “I think it will be fine,” he said. “But you should stay away for a moment until I know it's safe.”

The Jedi Master took a breath and nodded. “I must see to some other matters, anyway,” he replied. “Contact me when....”

Stonewall nodded. “I will.” He waited until the elder man was out of sight before activating the door. Inside, his brothers were in a flurry; gathering armor and other equipment that had found its way into the infirmary and speaking in harried sentences to one another. However, the moment that Stonewall and Drake entered the room, the motion halted.

Weave looked pale. “Is she...?”

“I don't know.” Stonewall took a breath; he was shaking. “I can't tell.”

“What the crink is going on?” Crest said. Seated on the edge of the bed, he'd already begun replacing his armor. “The kriffing HoloNet's useless right now.” Indeed, someone had pulled up the most recent broadcast, which was some banal story about a pod-race.

Stonewall took a breath. “We're going on a rescue mission, but first we need information and we need a ship.” He did not want to think about the fact that Kali might not be alive; it was necessary not to think that way if he wanted to keep putting one foot in front of the other.

At this, Traxis looked hesitant. “I think there are some on the Chu'unthor, but Ares would know for sure.”

“Can you call him?” Stonewall had no time for hesitation.

In response, Trax pressed his palm to the button on the edge of Crest's bed that would summon the medical assistant. Several minutes later the Twi'lek hurried in the room, his face drawn. He looked around at the clones before his eyes narrowed in confusion. “Why aren't you watching the news?” Even as he said the words he moved to the station and activated the vid-screen.

“There's nothing there but...” Crest trailed off as a familiar figure appeared on the screen. “Is that the Chancellor? What happened to his face?” Traxis shushed him as they listened.

“The war is over. The Separatists have been defeated and the Jedi rebellion has been foiled. We stand on the threshold of a new beginning. In order to ensure our security and continuing stability, the Republic will be reorganized into the first Galactic Empire....the clone troopers, now proudly wearing the name of Imperial Stormtroopers, have tackled the dangerous work of fighting our enemies on the front lines. Many have died in their devotion to the Empire. Imperial citizens would do well to remember their example....”

They listened in silence as the sounds of thunderous applause filled the room before Ares shut down the transmission. No one spoke for several minutes. Finally Crest shook his head. “Galactic Empire. Stormtroopers. Jedi rebellion....it's too surreal. It can't be true.” He didn't sound convinced.

“That order came from the Chancellor,” Weave added, shaking his head as well. “To act in the best interests of the Republic. But there is no Republic anymore.” His voice wavered and grew softer. “There's an Empire.”

When Traxis spoke, his words were edged with fury. “It's a bunch of shabla lies is what it is....the Jedi rebel against the Republic?” He snorted. “Please. What I want to know is: how did he manage to stop the Seps so quickly after our brothers have been dying by the thousands for three kriffing years, and haven't managed to put a dent in them?” At his words, the clone boys' eyes grew wide as they exchanged looks with one another.

“I don't know, Trax. I'm not sure anyone does right now.” Stonewall swallowed and looked at Ares. “All I do know is that we need a ship. Does the Chu'unthor have one that can be spared?”

The Twi'lek shook his head. “Most of them were taken by Master Altis' students on their various missions, but...” He trailed off and gave a faint but crooked smile. “I have one: a Maka-Eekai, L-series.”

Crest gaped at him. “Why does a medical assistant have a fancy transport like that?”

“Wasn't always in this line of work,” Ares replied with a shrug.

“Can we use it?” There was a flare of apprehension from the scarred clone at the words.

The Twi'lek lifted a brow. “It should be big enough for the five of us. It will minutes to get her prepped, but she's fast.” He looked at Stonewall, who inhaled and nodded.

It's not a plan, but it's a start. One step at at time.

His mouth opened to reply, but it was Drake who spoke next. “Six.” At the collective look from the adults he frowned. “Don't leave me behind. Please.”

“Make that nine,” Finn added, nodding to his brothers. Levy frowned at him and Finn sighed. “Ten.”

Traxis and Weave has started shaking their heads the moment Drake had spoken. “No. Absolutely not,” Weave said. “It's far too dangerous...”

“But you just told us how much the Jedi – Kalinda – risked to save us,” Risky replied. “And now you say we should sit around here like scared little gullipuds?” He shook his head and crossed his arms before him. Behind the young clone, Keo and Finn did the same thing. “We've made our choice.”

All eyes turned to Stonewall. The longer we debate, the smaller our chances of finding Kali and the others grow. But they're just lads...he took a deep breath and looked at Drake, who met his gaze with an almost eerie calm. Finally he nodded. “Fine. But you will do exactly as you are told, is that clear?” The boys saluted in unison and he sighed again.

*​

“How's the armor coming?”

Weave looked up from his seat as the captain approached him, the others were in a flurry of activity; Traxis and Ares, accompanied by Risky, Finn and Keo had gone to prep the Twi'lek's ship, Stark Raven. He gestured to the pile of plastoid surrounding him, a helmet in his lap. “Getting there. I'm afraid that yours and Crest's are still in pretty bad shape.” Not too resilient under fire in more ways than one, I guess. “The good news is that I've just about got our HUDs working....” He popped the circuit-board in its place and snapped in the protective seal within the helmet. “Now, let's see....”

He slipped the helmet on his head and activated the HUD. Without the rest of his armor, it pretty much served one purpose: to provide a steady stream of information. A few specific blinks brought up the most recent collected intel on the GAR's vast network and Weave was silent for several long minutes while Crest and Stonewall watched him. At first it was the usual: stats on the most recent battles, casualties versus losses, the latest technology updates and the like.

“Well?” Crest's voice was anxious but Weave raised his hand in a gesture calling for patience.

After a few more moments he was able to find out something useful, but it brought him no comfort. “Oh...”

It was Stonewall who spoke now. “Weave?”

He swallowed. Jedi...dead. So many of them. It was a stream of names, a steady flow that did not ebb but only grew faster with each moment and he was actually thankful for his implant, as it allowed him to absorb the information with perfect accuracy despite the speed at which the text was passing. Some of the names he recognized, but he did not see the three that he was searching for, which made some of the nervousness leave him.

The list of dead Jedi had ended and he was about to lift the bucket off of his head when another series of names caught his eye. Known Jedi Collaborators....

“Weave.” Stonewall's voice was sharper than it had been in some time but the medic only swore again.

It wasn't a long list, not like with the Jedi, but he saw several names – or numbers, rather – that he recognized all-too-well. How can this be possible? It was just a bunch of gossip about Kalinda and the captain...how did a silly rumor become intel? His heart had started that uncomfortable thudding sensation that had become far-too common of late.

Suddenly, he felt someone slap the outside of the bucket, causing a brief but painful rap against his head. When he lifted the helmet, the captain was staring at him in a way that he had never before seen. “I swear on all that's holy, if you don't tell me....”

Weave lifted his hand and smoothed the twin strips of hair atop his skull. “Kalinda's not on the list of Jedi that have been reported killed,” he replied. “Nor are General Tallis and Zara; all three of them are still classified as being 'at large.'”

Stonewall 's shoulders relaxed a fraction, though he still gave his brother an appraising look. “What else?”

It should not have been unexpected, but he couldn't help feeling betrayed. I don't know why I feel this way. I was ready to leave on my own, anyway. Maybe a long time ago. “Our names and numbers,” he said, looking at the others. “We're all on the list of 'known Jedi collaborators,' and are thereby wanted for treason.”

Silence.

Then Stonewall spoke. “All of us?” His eyes flicked to Drake, who had remained in the room.

Weave winced and nodded. “The lads too, but I'm not sure why. All I do know is that Kalinda reported that we'd rescued them to the Jedi Council, remember?”

“Crest and I were unconscious for most of that time.”

The medic sighed. “Well, she did. They must have alerted the GAR immediately...” He rubbed at his forehead and stared at the bucket as if it would contain a magic solution. There was more silence for a long while while the three men mulled things over. At one point, Levy approached Weave and reached for the bucket; absently, he handed it to him, watching as the lad put it over his own head. It was a comical sight, but no one so much as chuckled.

Finally Stonewall shook his head. “That won't do. Not so much for us but for them.” He nodded to Drake, who was watching Levy with interest.

Weave nodded. “I agree, but what can we do about it? The minute we show our faces – or our codes pop up, I guess – we're cannon fodder.” He ran a hand through his hair again, trying to decide if their situation qualified as ironic.

“Now would be a good time to be able to disappear,” Crest added with a sigh. “Just poof.” He lifted his hand and spread his fist as he made the sound.

Something about the idea made Weave pause; his entire body went very still as he considered his brother's words. If we could disappear, if we could vanish from their database, we might be in the clear....at the end of the day, all the army has is its intel. An organization that big can't be expected to keep up with everyone on a personal level.

“What is it?” Stonewall's voice started him out of his reverie.

“Crest actually has the right idea,” Weave said slowly, noting how the bald clone grinned. “Though I don't think it will be as easy as poof. If we can slice into the GAR databank and delete our names...well, it won't matter so much, will it? It'd be one less thing to worry about, at least.”

Stonewall nodded, although he didn't look entirely convinced. “That's a pretty big 'if,' vod. And even if we manage it, there's still the matter of our very recognizable faces.”

“Or face,” Crest corrected in a wry voice.

Reaching forward, Weave plucked his helmet off of Levy, who looked affronted. “I say we take things one step at a time and worry about our appearances later.”

“You can do it?” Stonewall asked.

Weave nodded. “Yeah, but not from a bucket. To access data like that you'd need to hit a hub, like at one of the outposts. Once I got to one, I could do it. I think.” He tried to sound confident.

“Well, I don't see that we have much of a choice, especially if they haven't...found her yet.” Stonewall frowned and his eyes were distant; it was clear he was desperate to reach Kalinda, and Weave knew that the captain understood the repercussions of this decision.

But it doesn't mean it's so simple for him. Any more delay might mean...He swallowed. “Stonewall, if we do pull this off....it will make all of our lives easier, in the end.”

Crest sat up. “Toss me a 'pad. I'll find the nearest hub. We can go from there.” He caught the device that Stonewall absently sent him with the Force and began his search, snickering as he did so. “We should erase everyone's names...that'd really confuse things.”

Weave looked at the captain. “I wish I could, but something like that – a memory-wipe that big – well, it probably wouldn't matter in the end. A database that large is backed up regularly in case of power-failure or something. If I wiped the whole thing, chances are it'd be restored immediately.” It was a painful thought, as he realized that they'd be potentially sentencing others to their deaths, but it was necessary. The safety of the boys comes first...we can't afford to let them down, not after all they've been through. But still. Weave didn't like it. Maybe I can come up with a virus or something....anything to slow them down, even if it's only for a little while.

Them. He frowned at this thought. Us and them. It didn't used to be that way. I guess everything really does change, in the end.

He was interrupted from further musings as the captain spoke again.“We'll figure it out.” Stonewall looked at Crest, who was still scrolling through his datapad. “Any luck on that outpost?”

The bald clone tilted the 'pad so that the captain could see. “Galaris. About nine hours from our position here. Not too far away, at least.” He looked up. “So....how do you propose we go about this nonsense?”

The captain lifted his brow. “I have a few ideas.”

“You're going to use the Force, aren't you?”

Stonewall gave a dangerous grin. “Very likely.”

*****​

A/N: The chapter title is from the poem “Dulce Et Decorum Est,” by Wilifred Owen.

Let me know how you liked the way that the cadets reacted to the order; I was unsure of how that came out.


Many thanks to sachariah for his “techy” know-how!

 

I was biting my nails during this sequence. Stay good, cadets, stay good!

"When Traxis spoke, his words were edged with fury. “It's a bunch of shabla lies is what it is....the Jedi rebel against the Republic?” He snorted. “Please. What I want to know is: how did he manage to stop the Seps so quickly after our brothers have been dying by the thousands for three kriffing years, and haven't managed to put a dent in them?” At his words, the clone boys' eyes grew wide as they exchanged looks with one another."

Thank you, Traxis! How come no one has pointed this out since Revenge of the Sith?!

 

@gracesonnet: The whole premise of Order 66 is a bit shaky... It's a neat idea, (from an objective viewpoint), but the reality would be far too complicated to work out quite as Palpy wanted, even with all his machinations. I guess his hope was that the clones would shoot first, think later? Ah, well. Thank you for the comment! ​

*****​

Chapter Twenty-One: Rise Up Singing ​

1090 days ABG

A glance at someone's chrono indicated that it was technically the day after, but the Jedi sat in numb silence for a long time before Kali was able to speak again. “That list.” The others met her eyes and she clarified. “We have to get on that list of deceased Jedi. If what the Chancellor-” I refuse to say Emperor “-says is true, then they'll never stop hunting us, or any Jedi, while we're thought to be alive.” While she spoke, a frown crossed her face as she considered the problem.

Honi shook her head. “How is that going to work, exactly?”

“We don't know everything that's happened, but we do know that being a living Jedi right now is dangerous.” More so than being a clone, I'd wager, especially since the Empire should still need an army. At least the guys should be okay. It was a small bit of comfort and it gave her strength. She glanced out the viewport and noted that it appeared to be the thickest part of the night. “But you do have a point. How can we go about such a thing?”

The red-haired Jedi snorted. “Perhaps you really should ask the clones. They seem to be rather knowledgeable.” Her face stilled as she and Kalinda shared a look. “No...”

“Honi, I don't like it either, but I don't know what else to do.”

“I've never had a problem, but you always refused to do those.” Honi sounded skeptical and Kalinda couldn't blame her.

Zara had sat up and was glancing from one to the other, confusion written on her face. “What is it?”

“It's insane is what it is,” Honi muttered, shaking her head. At Zara's look she sighed. “She wants to do a mind-trick on the clones. To make them think they killed us, I suppose?”

Kalinda nodded. “I know it's a long shot, but perhaps with both of us we can manage it. That way, they'll report that we were killed and we can...go about our lives.” Though what will be left of our lives after this, I have no idea.

But Honi was still shaking her head. “Kalinda...it won't last, you know that. At the most it will work for a few months.”

“Even so, I don't see that we have any other options. At the very least it will buy us some time.” Kali sighed and smoothed out her hair, noting in the corner of her mind that her braid had long since come undone; when she pulled her hand back, it was coated in ash and dust. “Of course, it would be easier if they were...cooperative, but that's not likely to happen.” Her tone was dry.

The Nautolan girl's expression had grown speculative, but her lekku were quivering with excitement. “Do you really think it will work, Kalinda?”

“I hope so,” Kali replied with a frown. But they're not stupid or foolish, just young. Perhaps a simple mind-trick won't be enough, even for a short time. We'd need to provide some kind of tangible proof....Her eyes fell on Honi's lightsaber, clipped to the red-haired Jedi's belt. “But just in case, we'll need more evidence for them. I doubt that a planted memory will suffice on its own.”

Following the direction of her former Master's eyes, Honi frowned and shook her head even as she unclipped her saber hilt and gripped it with white knuckles. “No.”

“Honi-”

“This weapon is my life,” Honi replied. “Kalinda, a Jedi's lightsaber is a symbol. It's an extension of ourselves and everything we are. You know that.”

Kalinda reached for her own saber and ignited it, the yellow glow filling the cabin and coloring their faces. The audible hum had always been a comfort, but now she only heard the conflicting sounds of something she wanted neither to lose, nor keep. “This weapon is not your life, Honi. It's a tool. Your life is infinitely more valuable than a collection of metal and crystal, no matter how much worth has been attached to it.” She deactivated the blade and clipped it back to her belt. “And it's a symbol of something that we must be prepared to let go of, if we want to survive this. Things have changed; I don't know why or to what extent, but we must change ourselves along with them.” She met Honi's gaze and after a moment the other woman sighed and looked at her saber with remorse.

“Very well.”

Nodding, Kali looked at Zara even as she began to unfasten the greaves that Weave had made for her, setting them on the floor. “Stay here and get the ship prepped; I want to leave as soon as we're done.” And she doesn't need to be a part of this.

But Zara shook her head. “I want to help.”

“You can help by prepping the ship.” Off came the gauntlets as well, and she tried not to look at the Jedi symbol with longing. I should follow my own advice.

“Kalinda...you'll need all of us if you think to pull this off.” The Nautolan girl had straightened in her seat and was giving Kali a very adult stare. “I can help. I need to help.” Her voice was firm and the dark-haired Jedi sighed after a moment.

When did she start growing up? It was Kali's turn to acquiesce. “Very well.”

*​

“Where are you going?”

Stonewall paused at the infirmary door and turned to see Drake just beside him, watching him with a concerned expression. “I have to talk to Master Altis,” he explained. “Let him know what we intend to do and see if he has any ideas of his own.” And maybe see if he can teach me some special Force tricks in thirty minutes or less.

The boy nodded, though he hesitated as well before taking a breath and looking up at the captain. “May I come?”

“Are you sure?” Stonewall looked back at the room, where his brothers were finishing up the repairs on their armor; the other lads, Trax and Ares were still at the Twi'lek's ship. “It won't be that interesting.”

“I want to help,” Drake replied.

I know there's more to it than that. However, Stonewall lacked the time to try and figure it out, so he nodded and the two hurried off into the main body of the ship. Though he could have used his comlink, Stonewall didn't have to; he could sense the Jedi Master's presence on the bridge of the Chu'unthor with ease.

It was a bit of a hike, but thanks to Altis' instruction his injuries had almost healed completely and he was able to move with haste, such that Drake had to take two strides to his every one. After a few minutes, Stone glanced at the boy, noting the edges of worry that were trailing from his mind. It's not for himself, or even for his brothers. It's for...He paused and gave a mental sigh. Should have seen that coming, I guess. Perhaps we're all not so different after all. “You're worried about Zara.” It seemed silly to call her 'Commander' now, all things considered. About as silly as calling myself 'Captain.'

Drake knitted his brows and said nothing. They reached a turbolift, rode to the appropriate floor and exited at the command level before he spoke. “Yeah.”

Stonewall nodded. “I don't blame you for the way you feel, Drake. Attraction isn't something you can help.” The boy looked at him with wide eyes and Stone gave a sigh. “But I'll be honest: caring for a Jedi is not a way to live a peaceful life. I worry about Kali all the time.” More so now than ever before, which is saying something.

“You're right, I can't help it.” Drake shook his head as they passed a series of wide windows. They were nearing the bridge and their footsteps hardly made any noise against the smooth floor. “But she doesn't...”

“Don't worry about that,” Stone replied. “How about for now, we just focus on getting to them and making sure they're okay?”

The boy nodded and took a breath before glancing up at the elder clone one more time. “So it's true? You and Kalinda....love each other?” He paused; his eyes shifted to one of the windows. “The others don't really get it, but I remember how you looked when you told me.”

I guess we never really established that with them, did we? It's been so hectic...Stonewall paused at the entrance to the bridge and knelt before the younger lad, noting how there was only a tiny bit of pain in his muscles from the motion. “I love her very much, Drake. But it didn't come without a cost – to both of us – and very often it's terrifying.”

“But is it worth it?”

At this, Stonewall smiled. “More than I can say.” It was enough to bring him a bit of calm as he stood up and activated the door. The bridge was in controlled chaos; it seemed like every member of Altis' group was present and performing some task or another. The Jedi himself was at one of the consoles by the navacomputer, speaking with a Sullustian female as she gestured to the comm station. At Stonewall's approach, Altis turned and regarded him.

“You look like you have a plan, Captain.” His voice was calm and his eyes flicked to Drake. Stone nodded and told him of the clones' idea, as well as what they'd heard on the HoloNet. Altis gave a deep sigh at the news. “We heard the same. But this list of Jedi and their collaborators....that's troubling indeed. I'd like to see it.” Turning, he murmured something to the Sullustian, who nodded and raced to another console.

“Seb will be able to slice into the GAR channels.” Altis sighed again and shook his head, his face dropping into a frown. “Many, many Jedi have been killed in the last several hours,” he said in a quiet voice as he moved to another station where a Human man was pouring over a screen. “An Empire ruled by a Sith lord...I honestly thought I'd never see the day.” Agitation rippled off of him and his gaze was distant even as he dealt with his crew.

Stonewall didn't know much about the Sith, but he knew enough. “A Sith? Are you sure?” The implications of such a thing were staggering. Palpatine was the Sith that they were looking for? It was too much to take in, right now, so he pushed the thought away to deal with what he could.

Altis gave him a bitter smile. “I knew what I was looking at in that Senate, and I knew that the Council suspected such a thing was in the works; they just didn't believe that Palpatine was....” He frowned again. “But I don't know who this 'Vader' is. I cannot tell....” He shook his head and put a hand on the shoulder of the man at the console. “Niel...have you been able to..?”

The Human furrowed his brow but nodded. “Our transponder codes were already pretty encrypted, Djinn, but I think we'll be able to stay out of sight from...the Empire. For a while anyway.”

“Good. Thank you.” Altis looked back at Stonewall. “I wish I had something to offer you besides words of good luck, but I'm afraid I don't.”

The clone nodded. “I'll take what I can, at this point, sir. But thank you for everything. I'm much better now than I was, thanks to your teaching.” Despite his words he thought that his voice sounded uncertain and the Jedi Master put a hand on his shoulder.

“You have everything you need already, Stonewall. Now...go to her. Bring her back safely, if you can.”

“I intend to.”

*​

Kalinda's knee was worse than she was letting on, which Zara realized only when she caught Honi's worried glance at the dark-haired woman several times as the three Jedi made their way from the Wayfarer to the commandos, who were still unconscious thanks to her master's talents. Kalinda's really hurt. I hope she'll be okay. Zara took a breath and pushed her anxiety aside. Now wasn't the time to dwell on such things. The ship was as ready as it could be and they had discussed their plan – such as it was – regarding the commandos.

I'll be sorry to give up my saber, but she's right. It's just an object, after all, and I can always make a new one. But for now she felt reassured by its weight at her side. The night was thick and a little too cool to be comfortable; the stars above were blank and fixed, and the sound of their boots on the sand was the only noise while they crossed over the Ambrian dust. The air was far too dry; she found it difficult to swallow.

Finally they reached the clones. Helping Kalinda to sit before Ferro, Honi and Zara took their places on either side of her and they meditated for a few minutes in silence, gathering what strength they could. It had been decided that they should focus the bulk of their efforts on the leader of the group, though they did plan to alter Archer's memory as well.

Kalinda regarded the clone for a moment before lifting her hand and touching his forehead once. His eyes opened and darted to each of the women; his gaze was steel but Zara could taste the metallic tang of his agitation. The dark-haired Jedi looked stricken as she took a breath and began to focus, Zara and Honi following her lead.

“You made a distress call that the Jedi answered,” Kalinda said, her voice lilting and calm as she kept Ferro's gaze fixed on hers; several seconds into her speech his expression grew limpid as he became entranced by her words. “They were unable to save Exer. As your ship was damaged, they made plans to take you and Archer with them to Coruscant the next morning.

“When you received the order, you were wounded by the clone who was with them, whom you killed in self-defense. Per your intel, you struck down the Jedi Knight Kalinda Halcyon, first in her knee, after which you were able to kill her with a thermal detonator. From there you and Archer fought the remaining Knight and her Padawan. It was not an easy battle – as they attempted to perform mind-tricks on you to erase your memory – but you were successful in the end, again with your detonators. Their bodies were destroyed in the battle, so you took their sabers as proof before re-activating your distress beacon and awaited rescue.”

It was not a fool-proof story, by any means, but Kalinda had hoped that the presence of their lightsabers would back-up any holes in the narrative. It's clever in a way, to tell them about the mind-trick, as it will explain any gaps in his memory. Honesty is always better than deceit, even if we are twisting the truth in his mind. As Kalinda spoke, all of the Jedi concentrated on the clone's consciousness, laying their wills against his and attempting to fuse words into memories.

It was difficult for Zara, for she had never attempted anything like this, but in the end she realized that it was similar to taking away another's pain. The perception in one's mind was the fulcrum around which that being would make their choices or form their beliefs. With the Force, the Jedi could influence that perception and, in this case, cause the commando to believe that he had committed the acts they were describing.

Even though she could tell that her own efforts were dwarfed by those of the other Jedi, she did her best. With each word, Zara attempted to picture everything exactly as they had discussed, and after what felt like hours, she could feel the clone's mind starting to shape itself to the words. She could feel him believing, though there was still skepticism in his thoughts. A streak of determination emanated from Kalinda as she pressed her own will even harder against Ferro's, until at last Zara felt him relent.

It was over.

She was exhausted; a glance at the others showed that they felt much the same way, but Kalinda nodded to Archer. “Next one.”

It was difficult, requiring several more minutes of mediation, but they managed. Honi collected their sabers and clipped them to Ferro's belt, then reached to help Kalinda to her feet. Zara stood as well and helped the dark-haired Jedi support herself while they watched the clones, who looked like they were sleeping. A strange movement caught Zara's eye and she turned to see that Kalinda's cheeks were wet; after a moment she ducked her head and tried to wipe her sleeve against her face. When she looked up again, her expression was blank.

“Come on,” she said with a glance at each of the others. “Let's go.”

*​

The middle section of the Stark Raven was a little crowded with six adults and five kids, but all of the clones were used to tight quarters and Ares didn't seem to notice from his place at the helm. “So, are we just going to walk up and knock on their door?” He glanced at Traxis, who was in the co-pilot's seat.

“Weave's working on it,” the scarred clone replied as they awaited clearance from the Chu'unthor to exit the hangar. “There are individualized codes in our armor that can be scanned to see who we are; they're not that difficult to change with the right know-how.”

Ares flinched as something crashed in the wide cargo bay behind them. Twisting in his seat, Traxis sighed when he saw Crest leaning against the bulkhead, a pile of once-neatly-stacked armored plating at his feet. Unlike Stonewall, the bald clone did not have the healing powers of the Force to assist his recovery time and obviously still found walking to be a bit difficult. “Sorry....I'll clean it up.”

He probably shouldn't be up and about yet, but he never would have stayed, even if we'd asked him. I know I wouldn't have. “It's okay, vod,” Traxis replied, glancing at Finn and Keo, who were already moving to assist the older clone. “Just see if you can't help Weave.” Their medic was seated on a crate in the cargo bay in the center of the transport, where he'd laid out the electrical components to everyone's armor and was presently tinkering away with the captain's bucket. Crest joined him, sitting with a grimace on another crate, and the adults continued to repair the plastoid pieces while the younger clones were cleaning the armor as best they could in an attempt to return it to its former sheen. Stonewall had said something about meditating, and was alone on the upper level.

After receiving clearance to leave, Ares nodded to Traxis, who entered the coordinates for Galaris, watching as the stars stretched and began to shoot past them like blaster-fire once they cleared the Chu'unthor. “I have to say,” the Twi'lek said after a minute. “You fellows have some pretty big....ah, moxie. I'll give you that.” He shot Traxis a crooked grin and the scarred clone pretended to check the navacomputer again, trying to ignore the heat that had crept to his face.

“Thanks.” Keep your focus, you di'kut. This is not the time for any distractions.

Several hours into the journey, the armor was ready. Stonewall had rejoined the group, looking oddly calm and focused despite their dire situation. Someone had turned on the latest HoloNet feed, though it was filled with depressing stories about the Emperor's new and exciting plans for the equally new and exciting government. Traxis had offered his seat to Crest, as much to let his brother rest as to take himself away from a very awkward situation, and was currently fitting his body back into the armor that – until several days ago – he'd never imagined that he'd be without.

As he fastened the rerebraces to his upper-arms, he caught a glimpse of himself in the reflection of a nearby viewport. I look the same, but everything's changed completely. I never thought I'd end up like this...ever since Teth, I always imagined I'd wind up blistered to bits in a mud-hole somewhere. Beyond him, the lads were laughing about something; he looked over and saw that Levy had placed Weave's bucket on his head again and was doing a fair approximation of a parade march.

Everything is different. We're different, and I have no idea what the next day will bring. But I do know one thing: it's the right choice that I'm making. For the first time in my life, I think I've found something worth fighting for. He took a deep breath and checked to see that the pieces were secure before clipping on his gauntlets and sliding his hands into his gloves. The bucket was last, sealed with a familiar hiss and bringing him back to the environment with which he was most comfortable – at least, that's how it used to be. Even as he scanned the room the thought occurred to him that he preferred looking at the world through his own eyes rather than the digitalized gaze of the HUD.

I think, when all this is behind me – assuming I'm still alive – I don't ever want to wear this kriffing thing again.

*​

While Zara moved to the ship, Kalinda and Honi took one last look around Ambria, the latter dusting off her hands. “What about Milo?” The red-haired Jedi's voice was solemn and Kali again had to push aside her sorrow in order to deal with their current situation. She was leaning against Honi, looking at the remains of their makeshift fire. Milo was still there.

All that was Mi is gone...luminous. But it seems wrong to just leave him here, alone. She swallowed. “I don't know. I want him to have a proper funeral, but I....”

Honi startled her. “No. We're not leaving him.” With that, she helped Kalinda back aboard the ship, sliding the dark-haired Jedi into the co-pilot's seat and nodding to Zara, as both Jedi rose and slipped back down the loading ramp. Kali craned her head to see what they were doing, but she couldn't make anything out in the darkness. Finally she heard their approach and watched as they carried Milo with them aboard the Wayfarer; they brought him to the cargo bay and Zara fetched some blankets to cover his body before the two returned to the helm.

“I'm flying, and Zara needs to be where you are,” Honi said, bending to help Kalinda out of her seat.

“Honi....”

But her former Padawan shook her head. “No pulling rank when you're injured and I'm the supervising healer. You're going to rest and keep off of that knee.” She moved two chairs from the common area to rest behind the helm, one for Kalinda to sit in and one on which she could extend her legs, helping the dark-haired Jedi into the nearest chair. “Remember to keep it elevated.”

“As you say, doctor,” Kali replied, smiling as Honi sighed and shook her head before sliding in the pilot's seat and nodding to her apprentice at the nav.

“Ready Zara?”

The Nautolan girl nodded; her voice was calm and clear, her shoulders were straight. “Yes, Master Tallis.”

At this, the red-haired Jedi shot Kali an amused glance before looking back at her Padawan. “Why don't you call me Honi, from now on?”

A slow smile appeared on Zara's face. “Okay, Honi.”

“Are we ready?” Kali lifted the detonator in her hand and the others nodded. “Great. Take us out.”

The ship began to rise; once it was clear, Kalinda pressed the device and the three Jedi leaned towards the viewport to watch the crimson and orange blossom of the thermal detonators' explosion, set off in the space where their ship had been only moments ago – far enough away from the commandos so that they wouldn't be harmed by the blast – obliterating any trace that the Wayfarer had been there at all. The final piece of evidence. I only hope it will be enough to convince them. She dropped the det as her hand crept to her side, where her lightsaber used to be.

That will take some getting used to.

Together, they watched the planet of Ambria grow smaller and smaller while the swathe of black space above their heads seemed eager to swallow them whole.

They were off.

*****​

A/N: Wow...only three more chapters to go until it's over! After this, there's the final piece of the trilogy, Alchemy.

Thanks for reading!

 

All the sads

 

@gracesonnet: Have a hug. ​

*****​

Chapter Twenty-Two: The Advantages of Anonymity​

1091 days ABG

Galaris was an unassuming world with nothing to offer but its location along a prominent hyperlane. Stonewall watched the small, gray planet grow larger in the viewport of the Stark Raven and again wondered if this was the best idea. So much can go wrong. But if we pull it off, we'll be able to breathe a bit easier. We're planning our own deaths, in a strange way. Figuratively, of course.

I hope.

This was enough to sober him up as he looked back at his brothers, all of whom were dressed in their armor and looking like their old selves. Crest was still limping pretty badly, but that was fine.

It was all part of the plan.

He moved away from the helm to stand before them. “One more time: Weave and Traxis will infiltrate the base and make their way to the information hub while Crest and myself keep any officers occupied. Once we're done, we'll meet back at the entrance, where Ares will provide us with a timely extraction.” He glanced back at the Twi'lek. “Are you sure about this? If they catch your transponder codes.....”

“This won't be the first time I've used the Raven for, ah, illicit purposes, Captain,” Ares replied in a dry tone. “You just worry about getting in there and getting out; I'll take care of the escaping bit. I've got a few tricks up my lekku, anyway.”

Stonewall exhaled and nodded. “I don't know if I can ever thank you enough.”

Ares shrugged and lifted his eyes to the clones, to one clone in particular and Stone wondered that he could pick Traxis out among his brothers when they were suited up. “My pleasure.”

“Our armor's re-coded,” Weave said, nodding to each of them. “For all intents and purposes, we're now members of Flash Company, of the 212th. They were in this sector and experienced heavy casualties at their most recent skirmish, so it's conceivable that we're making it back in bits and pieces. Unlikely, but not out of the realm of possibility.”

“I'll take it; I'm not a picky man right now,” Stonewall said. “Crest, you ready?”

“Creating a distraction is one of my many talents,” the bald clone added from his seat. “Do you think they like knock-knock jokes?”

“What about us?” Drake and the others were seated together, watching the older clones.

Weave and Stonewall exchanged glances but it was the captain who spoke. “You are to remain here and keep a discreet eye out around the area for Ares while he remains at the helm. If there's even a whiff of trouble, you are to leave at once. Is that clear?” As much as he disliked letting them tag along in the first place, he'd be damned if he let the lads infiltrate the station along with the adults. Not that we'd be able to offer any kind of explanation for them, anyway.

Drake frowned. “With respect, wouldn't it be better to have a few more pairs of eyes with Traxis and Weave? They'll both be busy with the intel hub.”

“We didn't go through fire and death to have you run this crazy errand with us, adi'ke,” Trax replied, shaking his head. They were dropping through the clouds, headed for a small spaceport near the base where any random ship could stop and resupply before continuing on its journey.

After a glance at his brothers, Risky scowled. “We want to help.” Keo and Finn nodded in agreement, while Levy looked back and forth between the adults and the younger clones. Drake watched Stonewall.

“You agreed to do as we said,” Stonewall replied, his voice leaving no room for argument. “Now we're saying for you to remain here.” I can't allow them to come. It's just too dangerous for a bunch of kids. “And that's an order.”

Surprisingly, Drake spoke up next. “He's right, guys. We did promise. Let's follow his orders.” He met their eyes and after a moment, each one nodded, though Stonewall disliked something about the exchange.

That was too easy. I wish we could spare someone to keep an eye on them, but Weave's skills and Traxis' backup are needed for the hub, and I'll have to use the Force to help Crest's distraction along. And Ares needs to have both eyes on the ship. He fixed his gaze on Drake, who looked back at him with a blank expression, the closest approximation of innocence that most clones could muster. But Ares was already starting the landing sequence, so Stone turned his attention to the task at hand.

After the Stark Raven touched down in the hangar, the Twi'lek looked back at the adult clones. “Good luck, my friends. I have a feeling you'll need it.”

Stonewall nodded to him and the clones slipped out of the ship. Before they parted ways at the edge of the ramp, the medic looked at the clone captain. “Our comlinks should keep us in contact, but I don't want to risk anyone overhearing what they shouldn't, so keep conversation to a minimum.”

“It's the best we can do,” Stonewall replied. “Stay safe.” He slipped on his helmet and helped Crest as they began to make their way to the Republic base, situated well on the outskirts of the spaceport's location. As they approached the area, the deck officer approached them, his manner inquisitive.

“Who are you?” His voice was sharp as he lifted a device and scanned their armor. Without waiting for them to reply he tilted his head. “Flash Company? Thought you guys all got wiped out.”

Lifting his hand to his helmet in a motion that he hoped looked enough like a salute, Stone sent a mild bit of Force energy towards the other clone, nodding to Crest as he did so. “We nearly did. As it was my brother here got beat up pretty bad.” He kept his voice clipped and neutral. “But we have some valuable intel....we should speak with your commander at once.”

Crest let out a pained whimper. “It hurts...it really, really hurts...everything's growing dim, except....do you see that light up ahead?”

The other clone paused. “You should speak with my commander, then we'll get you patched up.” He indicated the doorway. “I'll send word for them to let you in.”

“Thank you, sir,” Crest replied, his voice a trembling whisper. For good measure, he gave a throaty cough as they started to walk towards the base.

“Tone it down,” Stone muttered to his brother as they moved. “You're not as good as an actor as you'd like to think.” In response, Crest coughed again and his limp became more pronounced, though he said nothing as they entered the station.

Stonewall had expected it to be a flurry of activity, so it was startling to realize that there were almost no others around. However, there was no time to worry about it as a clone in yellow-striped armor approached them. “The deck officer said you have valuable intel for me?”

Stonewall nodded and took a deep breath, allowing the Force to gather around him, to strengthen his credibility and encourage the other man to believe; a small part of his mind noted that such a thing would not have been possible without Altis' instruction on the praxeum ship. “Well, you see, sir, it's like this....”

*​

The attack came several hours into their journey back to the Chu'unthor, as they were nearing the Hapes Cluster. Kalinda had been attempting to sleep when she felt the beginnings of it through the Force: a sharp, acrid greed inlaid with a keen sense of opportunism. Pirates. Her eyes snapped open and she lifted her head to look out the viewport just as the ship's proximity alarm started shrieking. “Honi...”

“Blast! They came out of nowhere!” The red-haired Jedi spoke through gritted teeth as she jabbed at the navacomputer. “They've got some kind of tractor beam on us.” The Wayfarer had begun jerking and shaking, and it seemed like the ship was coming apart at the seams. Beyond the viewport, a massive, saucer-shaped ship rotated in the thickness of space, the point to which they were being pulled.

All the Jedi could do was watch as the ship grew closer and closer. Honi's hand went to her hip but she only found one of the smaller pistols that Traxis had kept stored aboard the Wayfarer; she glared at Kali, who ignored the look as she studied her companions. We don't look like Jedi, at least. We don't have lightsabers or proper robes – just the civilian clothes that Master Altis gave us. Perhaps we can pretend to be simple travelers. “Just stay calm and follow my lead,” she said as they were pulled into the gaping maw of the ship. “They don't know we're Jedi....we have nothing of value, but we do have the Force. We can get out of this.”

Darkness encased them as the Wayfarer was brought into the pirate vessel; there was a resounding slam as the hangar doors closed and for several moments they were surrounded by silence. Finally, they could make out a small door directly in front of them when it opened, slicing the area with a streak of light. Several figures entered the room and suddenly the three Jedi were blinking as the hangar was awash in blinding brightness. Kalinda took a deep breath as she heard an inquisitive rapping on the outside of their transport, followed by an all-too-familiar voice that made her hopes turn to ashes.

“Hello there, my friends! May I please request that you kindly lower your ramp so that we may free you of this troubling vessel and any valuables that you possess? I realize that you may feel that this is not beneficial to you, but you will agree that it is vastly preferable to losing any appendages – or worse.”

Honi frowned at her expression. “What is it?”

“I know him.” Kalinda's eyes closed as she swore inwardly. It was the Weequay pirate captain, Hondo Ohnaka.

The red-haired Jedi let out a snort of derision. “Of course you know him. Out of all the pirates in the entire shabla galaxy, we get captured by one you know. The only thing I don't understand is why I'm so surprised.”

Though a part of Kalinda want to chuckle at Honi's use of the Mando'a slang, the rest of her was desperately trying to figure out how to turn this situation into something positive and not at all life-threatening. “We're not enemies,” she said, her voice hushed. “I mean, we're not exactly friends, but....”

“So he won't turn us in to the Empire?”

Zara shifted in her seat as the pirates rapped on the door again. “Um...are we going to let them in?”

At that moment, the question was rendered moot as the very distinctive noise of det tape being laid sounded; the explosion that followed was loud, but not too damaging to the Wayfarer's hull. Kalinda twisted in her chair as the Weequay pirates filed in; when their gazes fell on the women they smiled in a way that made Kali grit her teeth. Hondo entered the ship last, looking around with an appraising eye and speaking the entire time. “Not a bad ship. She's a little damaged now, but that can be fixed easily enough. Smaller transports such as these are fetching quite a tidy sum on the....” He trailed off as his gaze fell on Kalinda and for a split-second they stared at one another.

Kalinda managed to speak first, giving him a wide smile that she hoped concealed the thudding agitation of her heart. “Lovely to see you again, Hondo.”

“And you as well, Kali,” he said as he sauntered over. Behind his green goggles she could see his eyes flick to Honi and Zara, though he fixed most of his gaze onto her. “My dear woman, what has happened to you?” He motioned towards her bandaged knee and she shook her head.

“I don't really want to talk about it.”

Nodding, the Weequay continued to regard the dark-haired Jedi, a smile spreading across his scaled face. After a moment he turned to his men and muttered an order. One of them slipped off the ship, the others lifted their blasters. Honi and Zara tensed in their seats, and Kali could feel them gathering the Force to them in preparation.

So she held the pirate's gaze. “I may be injured, but I won't let you harm them.” She indicated Honi and Zara, both of whom were staring at the pirate. “Please let us go...we have nothing for you.”

He leaned down until he was a breath away from her and lifted his goggles, as he did so she felt a cool press of metal on her throat. “I wish that were true, Kali, I really do. However, unfortunately for you, there is a rather hefty price on the heads of all Jedi at the moment, and I have still not recovered financially from our last encounter. So,” he said as he lifted his free hand to his men, who began approaching even as the one who'd left returned, armed with a stun-pistol. “It seems I have no other option but to take you into my custody. And don't try any funny tricks, Red,” he said to Honi, who had lifted her hand to call on the Force. He nodded down; he was holding a vibro at Kali's neck, the blade almost hidden by the cuff of his coat.

“For now, you are my guests....” Even as he uttered the words, Kali felt the bite of the stun-pistol and her world went black.

*​

It was easy enough to get into the base on Galaris without attracting too much attention, though Weave would have preferred a busier station to infiltrate. As they walked as quickly as they could without drawing too much attention, Trax echoed his thoughts, and Weave took a moment to consider the matter. “I suppose now that the war's over, they're going to be 're-structuring' the GAR like the HoloNet was saying. Perhaps everyone's being shipped out somewhere else.”

Traxis shook his head, his voice quiet. “There's no GAR anymore, vod. There's no more Republic.”

It was the truth and Weave knew that it would take more than a little adjustment before he became used to it. However, his mind turned back to the task at hand once he and Traxis were deep inside the base; there were only a few moments of confusion before they found their way to the central room where all of the computers were located. From there, I just need a few minutes to sort everything out and then we can get out of here. Simple, really. The thought made him shudder and he checked himself. Nothing is ever simple. I just hope that this isn't as complicated as our last mission.

“Here.” Traxis indicated a door with security and clearance warnings plastered all over it, which Weave ignored as he bent before the panel. While his brother watched the corridor around them, he managed to get the door open without incident.

“Let's go.”

They entered the room. It was smaller than he'd imagined, brightly lit with a large, humming console at the center of the room, circled by various workstations. While Traxis stood by the door, Weave moved to the nearest station and studied it for a moment as he set down his deece.

Traxis looked at him. “I don't hear any beeping. Beeping means you're doing your thing.”

“Patience is a virtue,” Weave replied, frowning at the screen.

A sigh. “Yeah, well...I'm not feeling very virtuous right now.”

Ignoring him, Weave began to search through the database until he pulled up the list of Jedi collaborators and nodded when he saw Shadow Squad's designations among them, along with the clone cadets; it was easy enough to mark them all 'KIA,' though he felt odd seeing the crimson slash through his own name. But that's odd. Where's Mi? He frowned beneath his bucket for an instant, until the realization struck him and his eyes closed. No. Milo...

Another moment passed before he found his brother's number, already marked with red. Weave's throat tightened and he took a deep breath to try and calm himself. I have to get a grip. I can grieve later, but now I have a job to do. Despite all this, he very nearly said something to Traxis, but couldn't bring himself to form the words. He took another breath and focused back on the screen, searching for the list of living Jedi. However, he frowned when he couldn't find Kalinda's name among the – much shorter now – roster. “That's not good...”

“What?” Trax was crouched by the door, blasters out and ready to spring into action.

Weave frowned and shook his head as he pulled up the list of deceased Jedi and felt his heart stop. There she is. Kalinda Halcyon: Ambria. General Tallis and her Padawan's names followed and he felt his breath grow short again.

How am I going to tell Stonewall?

For a moment he was stricken and immobile, though gradually he felt a fierce anger rising within him at the realization that she was dead, and Milo along with her. Someone – a brother, I suppose – murdered her in cold blood; out of everyone in this galaxy she would have stood by the clones until her last breath. She would have gladly given her life for any of us – for any clone – and they killed her and the others like animals. And Mi just wanted to help the Republic, and his brothers. There wasn't a malicious bone in his body.

“What's with the silence over there, vod?” There was a soft scuffle of boots as Traxis adjusted his position.

Weave gave a sharp inhale. Crink this. I'm done playing around. He pulled out a particular datastick from his belt and inserted it into the nearest jack, nodding to himself as he began to upload the virus that would disable their entire system.

But.

“No...” He frowned as he watched the readout. It's an updated program from the last one I worked with...this isn't going to cut it. Weave made a noise of frustration and slammed his fist onto the console, which caused Traxis to look over.

“That doesn't....”

The sound of light steps outside the door made them both start; turning to the entrance, Weave picked up his blaster and both clones readied themselves. Weave crouched behind the computer while Traxis held his position by the door. After an instant, Weave called up the heat-signature readout on his implant to get an idea of how many brothers he'd have to take out. I didn't want it to come to this, but I'm not sure we have a choice.

Then the door opened.

“Levy? Drake? What the kriff are you lads doing here?” Traxis sounded both horrified and furious, which made both boys quell for a moment before Drake thumbed the corridor behind them.

“Saving your shebse, apparently. There was a squad headed right for you...neither of you noticed them follow you inside the base, but we did. Crest isn't the only one who can create a distraction.” Drake grinned at Levy, who had strolled up to Weave and the console, studying the screen with interest.

Traxis snorted. “Are the others with you? The captain gave you specific orders, which you disobeyed...”

“They're fine, they're with Ares. But you said that some orders aren't to be followed,” Drake shot back. “How are we supposed to know the difference?”

But Weave missed his brother's reply as he watched Levy, who was still looking at the screen. He pointed to the datastick and then the console, glancing at Weave with a wry expression as he shook his head.

Weave sighed. “No, it didn't work. It doesn't matter anyway.” He couldn't bring himself to say the words: Milo and their Jedi were dead.

However, Levy only smiled. He lifted his arm – the one with the strange implant – and pulled out the datastick, after which he connected the implant into the port.

“What's he doing?” Traxis' voice sounded as bewildered as Weave felt, though the medic only raised his hand to silence his brother while Levy regarded the screen with mild curiosity.

As Weave watched, he realized what the boy was doing, and his jaw dropped. “He's...he's scrambling their data....all of it.....” Even if it doesn't last, it'll set them back a good chunk of time while they try to sort out the damage.

Indeed, the screen began to flicker, filling with gibberish after a few minutes, which was when Levy lowered his arm and looked at Weave, his face beaming as if he was asking, did I do a good job?

Weave grabbed the young clone and gave him a hug. “You did, son. You really did.”

Drake grinned. “Good thing we came along.”

“Great, great,” Traxis said, lifting his blasters. “Now can we please get the kriff out of here? I'm not getting any younger.”

With a sigh, Weave nodded and activated his comm. “Stonewall? We're done.”

 

So many sadfeels for Weave! (and the others).
1. I get so happy when Hondo shows up even though I probably shouldn't. Like, he's still a pirate, you know? He's probably done really bad things that you can't just wave away with a "Oh, Hondo, you scamp!"

2. "Weave gave a sharp inhale. Crink this. I'm done playing around."
Go, Weave! I got chills when I read that part.

3. "Stonewall watched the small, gray planet grow larger in the viewport of the Stark Raven and again wondered if this was the best idea. So much can go wrong. But if we pull it off, we'll be able to breathe a bit easier. We're planning our own deaths, in a strange way. Figuratively, of course.
I hope."
My iPod must be psychic or something because while I was reading this update, the song that came up (it's my NaNoWriMo playlist, set to "random") was Meatloaf's "I'd Do Anything for Love (But I Won't Do That)."
I bet "break into the GAR and scramble their intel to fake our own deaths" falls under Meatloaf's "I'd do anything" category

This made my Monday!

 

@gracesonnet: I love Hondo, too! He's just so much fun to write, even if he is a bishwag. So glad you liked Weave stepping up! He's been through a lot, hasn't he? Yes, lol, I think the "I'd do anything" category would fit well! Thank you for the comment! (And my deepest apologies for the super late post - I was out of town all weekend and had to get my nunas in a row today.) ​

*****​

Chapter Twenty-Three: Unstoppable​

​

1091 days ABG

It seemed like the commander wasn't buying his story, so in order to make a hasty exit, Stonewall and Crest were forced to pull out all the stops once they received the all-clear from Weave. After the former captain ended his explanation and realized that it wasn't working, he sent a shot of Force-energy to the other man even as Crest gave a loud groan and clutched at his chest. “Sir...I need to take him to the infirmary.”

The loyal-soldier part of him regretted the necessity of tricking a brother, but he knew that it was the only way to help the people he loved, so he continued to press against the other man's will with his own. “You should take him to the infirmary,” the commander said, indicating the correct way, though his eyes narrowed at Stonewall. “After you drop him off, report back to me. We need to talk.”

Stonewall gave a smart salute. “Yes sir.” He and Crest turned to leave.

However. “Trooper.”

Stonewall froze and turned back around. “Sir?”

The other clone removed his helmet and fixed his eyes on Stone's visor. “You and your boys did good work out there. I'm sorry that your losses were so severe.” He nodded once; his expression was truly regretful, and Stonewall's guilt-level increased a bit more as he saluted again.

“Thank you, sir,” he replied. “But we were only doing our duty.” Again, he and Crest turned to leave, keeping their pace slow until they turned the corner, after which they began to hurry.

“Just in time,” Crest said with a sigh over their secure channel. “I don't think he was buying your story.”

“My story was fine. It was your terrible acting that nearly blew our cover...” Stonewall couldn't help but grin behind his bucket as they moved along. We just might pull this off. I don't want to believe it, but....it seems like we're going to be okay. Now if only I could find Kali. They met Weave, Traxis – along with Levy and Drake – at the rear entrance to the station. Before Stonewall could ask about the boys, Weave motioned to the spaceport and the clones continued on without a word, anxious to be away.

None of them spoke until they were back aboard the Stark Raven. Finn, Keo and Risky were at the ramp, watching for them; at the clones' approach Risky entered the ship and informed Ares. As the ship began to lift off, the Twi'lek glanced back at Stonewall. “Where to, now?”

Even as he opened his mouth to say that he didn't know, Weave cleared his throat. “Ambria,” he said, his voice quiet. Sorrow radiated from him and Stonewall felt his earlier elation evaporate at his brother's tone.

Crest caught it, too. “What is it?”

A moment passed, then Weave removed his helmet and tucked it under his arm, his eyes on the floor. “I saw Milo's name....on the red list.” His voice was soft.

With these words, all of the clones removed their helmets and for several minutes, the ship was silent. Finally Traxis threw his bucket on the floor of the cargo hold, the thunk of plastoid hitting durasteel echoing in the chamber before he turned and moved to the helm, taking a seat beside Ares and saying nothing. Crest managed to settle down on a crate, his face lowered; Finn, Keo and Risky clustered around him and leaned their heads against his shoulders. Levy and Drake stood to one side and didn't move.

But Stonewall was only aware of all this through the Force, as his eyes were closed. At some point he murmured a remembrance for his fallen brother; the Mando'a phrase was simple but it made the knot of grief in his chest unravel a fraction. Mando'a is pretty useful I guess. Easy to learn, practical to use....the perfect language for vagabonds like us. Even the wedding vows are like that. But the thoughts were surreal and distant, for all that he felt numb.

After another moment, he was dimly aware of Weave motioning to him, easing him off into a quiet corner and speaking to him in a gentle voice; however, the only things that stuck in his mind, echoed over and over, were four words that he'd hoped never to hear.

Kalinda Halcyon is dead.

*​

As a very wise man had once said, Stonewall was attempting to shape his own reality.

Again, he is on Japarran, and it's as beautiful as he remembers. The jessamin trees appear to be scant hours away from blooming as the setting sun gilds the entire grove; the air is high and sweet with birdsong. Standing at parade-rest, he waits, trying not to fidget or otherwise show how anxious he really is. Finally, from one end of the grove emerges the one he's been looking for: a Jedi Knight, a slender, dark-haired woman who looks around with confusion written across her features.

“Kali.” He says her name in a normal tone, but it carries across the grove faster than his legs can bring his body to where she is.

At his voice she turns to him, her face is alight with joy when she marks his approach. Kalinda rushes to meet him in the center of the grove. “Stone?” They meet in the middle; for several moments, each is lost to the kiss until she pulls back and looks at him in wonder. “Where are we? It feels like Japarran...”

Ignoring her question, he takes her hands in his own and meets her gaze. “Are you okay?” There is an urgency in his voice that he can't hold back.

Kali frowns at his tone even as she nods, but he can see that her dark eyes are filled with sorrow. “Sort of. I mean, I'm alive. But Milo....” Her voice chokes on his name before she shakes her head as if to clear it. “Are you?”

“I am now.” He holds her close and whispers his next words, acutely aware of the effort it's taking for him to keep their connection through the Force-dream. “I will find you, Kali. I promise....”

She kisses his cheek. “Not unless I find you first.” A strange noise sounds in the distance – a rumbling like thunder that threatens his already tenuous focus – and she looks towards the sound, her eyebrows knitting in confusion. “What's that?”

But he pays no attention to the noise as he presses her close to him. “Kali...where are you? Are you still on Ambria?”

Frowning again, she shakes her head. “Not anymore. We were, but we decided to head back to the Chu'unthor. I'm not sure where we are now, to tell you the truth....somewhere near the Hapes Cluster, I think. Why? Where are you?” She squints at him, and he realizes that she is fading away, or that he is. “Stone?”

“Hapes Cluster,” he says, nodding even as her form is dissolving before his eyes. “Perfect. Where we met the first time....that's where we'll meet, now.” He kisses her one last time just as she vanishes completely. “I'll find you there, Kali. I promise.”

*​

1092 days ABG

After her strange dream, it did not help Kalinda's disposition when the first person that she saw when she opened her eyes was Hondo Ohnaka. She ways lying on a cot within – she assumed – one of the cabins on his ship; the Weequay was beside her, regarding her with interest. The room was dimly lit and sparse, but did not appear to be a holding cell, nor were her hands bound, which only added to her confusion.

“She is awake at last.” His voice rippled low in the darkness as he set a hand against his chest in exaggerated relief. “I can breathe easily again.”

Kalinda groaned; her knee throbbed and her head ached from the stunning jolt that had knocked her unconscious, so it was with no small amount of disorientation that she sat upright. “Hondo?”

The pirate leader chuckled. “And she remembers me. You certainly know how to flatter a fellow.”

His flippant tone sharpened her focus away from her own pain as well as jolting her out of the hazy remnants of her dream. The pain and heartache of the past days – days, weeks and months, actually – was starting to catch up with her and she felt her face grow hot with emotion.

“You're going to do it, aren't you? After my men saved you and your crew on Florrum? After we fought at your side? After all your talk of honor and freedom? You're going to hand us over to the Empire...” It was a small mercy that her voice did not break on the last word, after which she took a shuddering breath.

“Kali,” his voice was quiet as he put a hand on her arm. “It pains me that you assume the worst, my dear. I thought we were friends.” He sounded genuinely hurt.

But she had reached a point where she found it difficult to care about the pirate's feelings. “Friends don't steal each others' ships or knock each other unconscious with stun-pistols, and friends don't turn in one another to the Emperor.” She made to slip out of the bed – for all the good it would have done her – but was stopped by his hand on her shoulder.

“Nor do friends let the crew of pirates they lead believe that they have any plans to show the Jedi mercy, especially when there is a significant price on said Jedi's pretty heads.”

She gaped at him. “What are you saying?”

He chuckled as he removed his hand and laced his fingers together in his lap. “I have not forgotten our time together,” he said, lifting his brow at her. “Nor have I forgotten how you and your men fought so valiantly for myself and my crew. However, I do have a reputation to keep up, particularly in such....troubling times.” At this, the pirate leader frowned in distaste.

Kalinda took a breath and rubbed at her forehead. There was silence for a moment before she looked up at him again. “Where are my companions?”

“Safe. I wanted to ensure that you and I had a chance to speak first.” Hondo tilted his head and regarded her; she sensed that he was debating something. When he spoke again, his voice was careful. “I must apologize, my dear.”

Force above and beyond. I can only imagine where this is going. “Why?”

The pirate shifted in his seat at her wary tone, but continued to watch her. “I spoke in error, earlier, you see. When I mentioned the price on your heads. After you were brought here, I did an bit of digging and realized that you, Kali, are already dead. That is, according to the Empire.”

He seemed curious at her reaction, which was, of all things, to give a weak laugh. “Something went right, at least.” She lifted a brow at his look of confusion. “Long story.”

“Ah, of course.” Hondo leaned back in his chair and toyed with his hat, which he'd set in his lap. “You realize if you are caught, the Empire will likely recognize the error and rectify it at once.”

Still suspicious, Kalinda nodded but said nothing. The Force was giving her no indication of his thoughts, so she waited as he continued. “As it stands now, I won't turn you into the Imperials. Furthermore, I will allow you to keep your ship and can ensure that none of my crew cause you harm. However, I must stress that I cannot make this promise if we should ever meet again, Kali. After this we are even, and should we encounter one another at a later point in time...I'm afraid all bets are off.”

It was so much more than she could have hoped for. “I understand. Thank you, Hondo.”

“Actually there is...one more thing.” His scaly face broke into an almost sheepish smile. “My men will wonder how it is that you convinced me to let you go, and since I am not susceptible to Jedi mind tricks....” He raised his brow in a suggestive manner and Kali felt her cheeks grow hot even as indignation coursed through her.

“Hondo, there's no way that I'm going to....”

“No, no,” he chortled, raising his hand. “You mistake my meaning! I'm far too much of a gentleman for that. But I ask that you play along while you're on my humble ship, as I do have a reputation to keep up, after all.”

For the love of all things holy...Kali tried not to roll her eyes. “Fine. Now may we please leave?”

The Weequay laughed out loud and stood up, moving to the door. “Your friends will be brought to you and then you are free to go.”

*​

The Stark Raven was silent as Ares prepared the jump to hyperspace. Beside the Twi'lek at the helm, Traxis watched the stars stretch and felt a heavy weight settle over his shoulders. We did the right thing, but it feels like we may as well not have done anything at all. Kalinda and Mi are dead; Zara and Tallis as well. He closed his eyes against the rushing light.

“You and your brothers did the best you could, Traxis,” Ares said, his voice quiet. “You've saved the lives of those boys, you know.” He paused, then his fingers brushed touched Traxis' armored forearm. “I'm no Jedi, but I've been living around them for some time now, and I think that yours would be happy to know what you all have done. And for what it's worth, you've honored your brother's memory with your brave actions.”

“But it wasn't enough,” Traxis replied with a shake of his head. “It will never be enough. Even after so many have died...what does any of it matter, in the end?” He was aware that his voice held a wavering edge, but he was past caring.

Ares was silent for a long moment. When he spoke, his voice was soft. “I remember watching the coverage of the battles on Ryloth and thinking that your brothers fought so hard to protect my home and my people...did anyone ever thank you for fighting for us?”

Traxis shrugged. “I was never on Ryloth.”

“But your brothers were. You could easily have been, if things were different.” The Twi'lek paused again, then cleared his throat. “For what it's worth, thank you, Traxis.” The two men shared a look that lasted perhaps a moment too long when Stonewall came rushing down from the top section, his face alight.

“Hapes Cluster,” he said as he hurried to the helm. “That's where we'll find her.”

Ares shot him a bewildered look but it was Traxis who replied. “Stonewall...she's dead. I'm sorry.”

The squad's former captain shook his head. “No, Trax. She's alive. I don't know what happened, but I do know that she's alive. We have to get to Basrah immediately.”

“Basrah? Isn't that where you two met?” Weave had risen from his place beside Crest and Levy, coming over to put a hand on Stonewall's arm. “Are you sure that you want to go there?” His voice was quiet, filled with sympathy.

Stonewall exhaled sharply and glared at his brother. “We're going to meet there, and no, I'm not crazy. I...I had a dream. Well, it was more than a dream, but...” He sighed again and looked back at Ares. “Please.”

Traxis and Weave exchanged glances, but Ares was already punching in the coordinates. “Basrah...never been there, but I've been through the Hapes Cluster once or twice before.”

“Stonewall, I don't think that...” Weave kept his hand on the other man's arm but Stonewall shook his head.

“Trust me, vod, okay?” His voice held an almost pleading edge. “She'll be there.”

*​

The pirates had brought Zara and Honi to one of their holding cells – hands bound, of course – and left them alone for some time. It was a small room, bare and dark, reminding Zara of the place that Creon Dai had held her after she'd been kidnapped, and she found herself trembling. I'm so tired. I want to just curl up and sleep for the next month....will we ever be able to rest? She thought of the Chu'unthor and wondered if it was possible for Master Altis and his followers to remain safe in these dark times. And even if Kalinda's plan worked and we are 'dead,' what's going to happen to us?

Can I even be a real Jedi if the Jedi don't exist anymore? She shivered.

Suddenly, a warm hand was on her arm and Zara looked up; there was a faint glow from the panel by the door that allowed her to make out Honi's pale eyes, which were filled with as much doubt as she felt. “I'm so sorry, Zara,” the red-haired Jedi whispered. “It wasn't suppose to go like this. I wanted to teach you the ways of the Jedi like I was taught....but I'm not sure what's going to happen now.” Her voice wavered and Zara could feel the other woman's fear that permeated the reprocessed air around them.

She's lost, just like me. And I thought she knew everything. She always acts like she does. Zara nodded, belatedly wondering if Honi could see her in the darkness. “We'll have to make it up as we go along, I guess.”

Honi smiled at her. They were quiet for a few moments more when there were footfalls outside the door; both Jedi tensed as the door opened and the pirate leader stepped inside, silhouetted by the light from the corridor beyond. “Come,” he said, beckoning once. “Kali is waiting for you.”

Taken aback by the sudden change, as well as his reference to Kalinda by her nickname, Zara only stared at him. Honi, however, made another decision. “Why should we trust you?”

The Weequay chuckled at this. “My dear, you should never trust me...except in this one instance. Kali is awake and is most anxious to see you. Quickly, now. Time is not on your side any longer, Jedi.” There was an edge to his tone that Zara did not like, but she could feel the truth of his words in the Force. A glance at Honi showed her that the other woman sensed his veracity as well, though she appeared not to be happy about it. However, it seemed as though they had little choice, so they stood and followed the pirate out of the cell and down several lengthy and winding passages until he brought them to a cabin door. Inside, Kalinda was replacing her boots, though she looked up and smiled at the others when they entered.

“So you see I am a man of my word, after all,” the pirate said with a chuckle.

Ignoring him, Honi and Zara moved to Kalinda, and for a few moments the three woman embraced before the dark-haired Jedi looked at the pirate leader. “Thank you.” Her voice was full and quiet.

But he shook his head and lifted his hands. “Don't thank me until you are off my ship.”

Within the span of half an hour Zara and Honi were back at the Wayfarer, prepping the transport and waiting for the engines to warm up. While Kalinda spoke with the pirate captain, surrounded by several of his crew, they went over the ship's systems, ensuring that the pirates hadn't tampered with anything essential. “Everything seems to be in order,” the red-haired Jedi said as she emerged from the rear of the ship. “They didn't disturb Milo, either,” she added, sliding into the pilot's chair and giving Zara a thin smile.

The Nautolan girl nodded and glanced out the viewport, where Kalinda and Hondo Ohnaka were speaking. After a few moments they shook hands and Kalinda turned to go; Zara's mouth fell open, however, when the pirate reached forward and slapped the Jedi on her backside once, leering at her as he did so while his men guffawed and nudged one another. Kalinda's jaw tightened but she kept moving – her pace made slow and halting by her injury, though her chin was raised – until she was back on the Wayfarer. As she slid down in her chair, Honi gaped at her. “Do I want to ask...?”

“Let's just go. Please,” Kalinda replied, shutting her eyes and rubbing at her forehead.

“Fine with me,” Honi said. “I only hope that the Chu'unthor is still around.” Beneath her hand, the ship began to rise and make its way for the hangar doors, which were opening to reveal a wide stretch of space. Zara looked at the sight and thought that she could taste freedom.

Kalinda shook her head. “Set a course for Basrah.”

“Basrah?” The red-haired Jedi sounded skeptical. “Why Basrah?” The Wayfarer shot into the black and Zara found that she could breathe a bit easier.

“Because that's where Stonewall is going to be.” Kalinda's voice was calm and her eyes were fixed on a nearby cluster of stars, packed so tight that they appeared to be nothing so much as a handful of broken glass reflecting light from a distant sun.

Honi looked at her. “How do you know this?”

With these words, the dark-haired Jedi's gaze grew distant. “I just do. He'll be there.” She sounded more sure of anything than Zara had ever been, which was a strange kind of comfort.

With a long-suffering sigh, Honi entered the coordinates for the system, casting her former master a sideways glance. “Very well. But we don't have an abundance of fuel.....” She trailed off and checked the indicator, then shot another look at Kalinda, who gave a tight smile. “Hmm. We seem to have more than I thought. Another gift from your pirate friend?”

“Along with our freedom?” Kalinda nodded, then grimaced. “It wasn't one of my prouder moments, but that slap was a small price to pay for the resources to get us where we need to be.”

*​

“There's an ion storm in the upper atmosphere,” Weave said as the Stark Raven orbited the small planet that seemed to be coated with a luminescent, oily sheen. “Communications to the surface won't work, and we really shouldn't try and land through it.”

But Stonewall – for the most part – ignored his brother's words, as he had fixed most of his attention on the world before them, the place where he and Kali had first met. I can't sense her – yet. But I know she understood. I know she's alive. She'll come. His hands were loose at his sides and his eyes were unfocused as he searched for her through the Force.

He was aware of Drake at his side, of the boy's attention that shifted from the planet below to the former captain, but it was a peripheral awareness. He could see her face in his mind's eye. Kali. Kali...where are you?

“Look.” Ares pointed to the screen of the Raven's sensor array. “A ship's coming out of hyperspace....” He glanced behind him; Stonewall's eyes had refocused onto the planet beyond.

Crest had hobbled up beside the others. “It's them! It's the Wayfarer!”

But something's wrong. “They're coming in too erratic and fast,” Stonewall said, leaning forward. “Can you contact them?” Kali...

Suddenly he heard her voice in his head, as if she was shouting in his ear. Kriffing alluvial dampers are going out again...we're attempting to land....where are you?

“Get to the surface,” he said to Ares. “The ship is malfunctioning.”

Traxis frowned and shook his head. “It's an ion storm....we'll be torn apart.”

In response, Stonewall reached within himself and called on the Force. He shut his eyes and felt the ship thrumming beneath his feet; within moments he could feel everything: from the broad, sturdy bulkhead to the delicate clamps that held the power cells in place. As he had managed to do on Perdax with Kalinda, he imagined a shield around the vessel, a protective barrier of energy that would keep it in one piece so that they could survive their journey. “Just go,” he said through gritted teeth. “We'll be okay. I promise.”

There was silence for a moment as the Twi'lek seemed to debate; finally Traxis sighed and nodded. “He doesn't make promises he can't keep, Ares...you have my word. Everyone hang onto your shebse.”

“Right.” The Twi'lek sounded nervous but the ship began to move, following the path of the Wayfarer, which had disappeared beneath the swirling, purple clouds. Once they broke the atmosphere they could see that it was early morning on Basrah, though much of the pale sunlight was distorted by the thick spirals of the upper-level ion storm.

It was not an easy journey; the entire ship shuddered as the ion particles seemed to try and claw it apart. For several minutes they couldn't see anything but dense clouds until they breached the edge of the storm and hurtled towards the ground; Ares swore in his native tongue as he struggled to bring the ship around so that they wouldn't crash into a nearby cluster of trees. Finally the Stark Raven settled to the dirt with an almost audible sigh of relief as the landing gear extended; they were about two hundred meters from the Wayfarer, which had not experienced such a smooth transition from sky to ground.

All of Stonewall's focus transitioned from the ship to his own body, to propel himself forward as fast as he could. When he burst out of the Raven and began sprinting to the other ship, he could see smoke rising from the transport's engines; as he called her name again and again, he wasn't certain if he was speaking to her through the Force or using his voice. The clone boys, Weave and Traxis were beside him, though the latter and Ares fell back to assist Crest even as Stonewall called on the Force to accelerate his movements further.

There was so much smoke. Combined with the miasma of clouds from the ion storm it was nearly impossible to see anything, but he didn't care because he knew that she was alive. As he approached, he made out three shadowy figures emerging from the smoking ship, the one in the center supported by the other two. He called her name and felt his heart lift when the middle figure's head jerked towards him.

And when he finally reached her, when she was finally in his arms, it was as though she'd never been anywhere else. As she looked up at him he could see that so much had happened; she whispered an apology for something she'd said that he supposed had bothered him at one point, but he shook the words away because they were not necessary. Instead he held her as close as he could and took this one small moment of their lives to be selfish and focus all of his attention into the kiss that followed.

As he did so, Stonewall marveled at how she was real and warm, even though she was shaking – or maybe he was – but in any case they were together, and he decided in that instant that he was never going to be parted from her side again.

 

Awwwwww!

 

Also, oh Hondo, you cad.
I bet Honi's more his type anyway.

Oh my God, imagine if Hondo, Kali, and Obi-Wan are all in the same room together???? [Gasps]
Oh my God, imagine the cringing and innuendo!

 

@gracesonnet: Hondo was SO much fun to write! I should do it more often... Yes, him, Kali and Obi in a room would be epic. Thanks for the comments! ​

​

*****​

Chapter Twenty-Four: The Only Constant​

​

1092 days ABG

It was then that the work truly began.

Before it could leave the uninhabited planet, the Wayfarer needed a plethora of repairs, as well as more fuel and a few parts that could not be found on Basrah; Ares and Traxis left early that afternoon – after the ion storm had passed – to resupply at a nearby waystation on another world with assurances that they'd return by nightfall. In the meantime, Stonewall, Crest, Weave and the boys began to build a pyre. It was difficult work; the Jedi offered to help, but the clones turned the offer down. It was better this way, they said.

“Besides, you need to rest,” Drake had added with a pointed look at the Nautolan girl. “We'll be okay.”

Honi and Zara remained close to Kalinda and the three of them had taken to slipping into deep meditation for the time being. However, even as she felt her weariness receding, Kali could not keep her attention away from Stonewall. Did I tell you how much I missed you?

She could see his smile in her mind's eye. Only a few dozen times. About the same as me, I think. There was a pause, then his thoughts held a stern edge that made her chuckle. You need to rest. And I don't see you keeping that leg elevated.

Are you a medic now?

No, but I know that Honi told you to take your weight off of that knee and to keep it elevated. So you'd better follow her orders....

Her grin widened. Or what?

“Kalinda.” Honi's voice broke her concentration and made her miss Stonewall's reply. Kali cast a look at the red-haired woman who sat across from her; they'd erected a makeshift camp of a sort, with crates for seating and the beginnings of a bonfire even though dark was hours away. Her former apprentice lifted her brow. “I thought we were meditating.”

“I was. You disturbed me.”

Honi gave a long-suffering sigh. “I know what you were doing, Kalinda.”

Kalinda tried to be annoyed but found that she was too grateful to be alive and with those she loved to be anything but selfishly happy at the moment, so she gave the other woman an apologetic smile and reached forward to squeeze her arm. “Thank you for looking out for me.”

With another sigh, Honi shook her head. “I've gotten used to it.” She cast a look at Zara, whose attention had drifted to the clones. Following her apprentice's gaze, Honi shook her head again. “There's something about them, isn't there? At first I didn't understand it. Then...” Her head dropped and they all thought of Milo. After a moment, Honi looked back at Kalinda. “I do, now. I wish I had realized it earlier.”

She still seems so young, at times. I suppose she'll always be sixteen to me, in many ways. Kalinda nodded. “You made his last moments a little easier, Honi. It was more than he'd ever hoped for, I think.” Her voice was quiet as well; thoughts of Milo turned to memories of the others that she had lost: Mace, Yoda, Kit, Luminara, Barriss, Ahsoka....all of the Jedi. All gone.

Ben. Please be okay. Her eyes closed again and she felt an overwhelming sorrow take her. Even if he's still alive, how can we hope to find each other through all this darkness?

Earlier, after Stonewall had told her of his brothers' mission to the Galaris station and she shared their experience on Ambria, she had tried to reach Obi-Wan through the Force, but found that it was impossible to sense any other Jedi besides Honi and Zara. I don't know if they're all truly gone; I hope some of them managed to survive, but how can I know for sure? Perhaps in time, some of them will come out of hiding. But I suppose for now, in hiding is where we all must go. I think the Chu'unthor will be safe for a time, but we can't stay there forever. We need a safe place to rest and collect ourselves. She took a deep breath and felt sorrow tugging at the edges of her mouth, but she pushed the feeling aside.

There will be a time for grief, later. Meditation seemed futile, so she shifted her knee to examine it; however, as she did so, her elbow brushed against something in her pocket and she pulled out her mother's journal. For a moment she looked at it with renewed curiosity until she sighed and slipped it back in its place. I'll think about it soon. For now, I just want to exist.

The clones were stacking logs with an efficiency borne of years upon years of training, and she watched their movements, noting again that Stone seemed to be fully healed while Crest still limped a little. Stone used the Force to accelerate his healing. I can tell. She smiled to herself. He gets better and better with it every day. At one point he turned and caught her eye, giving her a soft smile that made her pulse quicken, still. She indicated her elevated knee and lifted her hand in an easy salute; his expression broadened into a grin as he nodded.

Kalinda was a Jedi, and Jedi do not pray to the Force in the way that some people pray to their gods, who are separate and often distant. You do not pray to something that you carry within you, after all, but in that moment she lifted her face to the sun and whispered to no one in particular. Thank you.

*​

Traxis scanned the navacomputer and nodded. “Looks like our best bet will be one of the Relephon moons: Volusia. We should be able to pick up what we need there.” He paused, the realization coming over him that he had no credits, no way to pay for any of the things they needed. I'm not used to thinking about that stuff...guess that's one more thing that's going to have to change.

As if sensing his discomfort, Ares smiled. “Master Altis has rather...ah, significant resources. He does not seek profit, but it does take a bit of money to keep his praxeum ship up and running; many people he has helped have donated to his cause.” The Twi'lek lifted a brow at Trax's look of confusion. “That's my roundabout way of saying that I've got it covered.”

“But this isn't a mission for him,” Traxis replied as the ship slipped into hyperspace once they'd broken out of Basrah's gravitational pull.

Ares shrugged. “He's a Jedi. You and your brothers went on a mission to rescue other Jedi. I think that's close enough, don't you?” Traxis frowned and Ares chuckled. “Before we left he gave me some money for a situation like this, Trax. Don't worry.”

Nodding again, the scarred clone shifted in his seat. It was strange to be nearly alone after spending so much time in close quarters with his brothers for the past two years – for the past thirteen years, actually – but it was peaceful too. After a few minutes of silence, he glanced at the Twi'lek. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

Traxis had thought over his words carefully and was able to respond at once. “For letting us take over your ship. For risking your freedom and your safety to help us find the Jedi. For being....well...” He sighed and trailed off, looking out the viewport, thinking that his words sounded dull and hollow, after all. “Just thanks. For everything.” Even though I suppose it's only to pay off some nebulous debt that he feels he owes all clones.

After a few moments, Ares spoke again, his voice quiet. “Even though I haven't been there since I was a boy, I meant what I said about being grateful to your brothers for their defense of my homeworld...but I didn't do it for them.” He glanced at Traxis, who noted that his lekku twitched as if he were nervous about something. “I did it for you.”

“Why?”

There was only the gentle hum of the engines for a few moments while Ares seemed to consider the question. “Because I wanted to see you happy,” he said at last. “You seemed so....” He knitted his brows and sighed. “I don't know...like you had never known what it was like to have hope, or to know kindness – even though I suppose that isn't entirely true, from what I know of those you travel with – but in any case, I wanted you to understand that there are....good things in the galaxy that have nothing to do with your brothers or the Jedi. Not that they aren't important, but there's more to life than...well. There's just more.” He sighed again. “Does that make sense, Traxis?”

The scarred clone did not answer for several minutes. It was not only because he was thinking over Ares' words, but also that he wasn't sure he could speak without his voice breaking. Finally he nodded, slowly, and looked at the Twi'lek. “It does.”

When Ares smiled, his face was lit by the stars. I think civilian life is going to agree with me.

*​

The clones finished building the pyre a few hours before the sun started to slip below the horizon; days on Basrah were longer than the standard twenty-odd hours on many inhabited worlds, so there was time enough before dusk for everyone to relax while they waited for the Stark Raven's return. Zara watched the boys take seats between the adult clones as they all wiped at their foreheads and talked quietly amongst themselves, their voices blending together in a comforting harmony. They seemed older than she remembered, and she wondered if that was due to their age acceleration or the harrowing events that they had lived through.

Beyond the others, Stonewall was seated beside Kalinda, his hand resting on her injured knee with a look of concentration on his face; she could feel through the Force that he was attempting to heal the Jedi and again she wondered at their connection. It was like someone had opened a door that she didn't even know had existed and for several moments she was lost to her thoughts. Love between a clone and a Jedi...I never knew such a thing was possible. I never thought either could fall in love in the first place. It's so romantic, in a way, but also a bit frightening. I wonder how it all happened. I'll have to ask Kalinda to tell me....I'm sure it's an interesting story.

Zara slid her eyes to No-Name, who was pulling on the front of his shirt to send puffs of cooler air to his face. Like the others he smelled of heat and sweat and sorrow, so she rose and moved to the Wayfarer, where they'd collected enough supplies to last until Traxis and Ares returned. She gathered several jugs of water and brought them back, passing them to the clones who thanked her. No-Name she came to last and when she offered him the jug she also gave him a small smile, one that he returned after a moment. When he reached for the container, their hands brushed with a light touch that was familiar and foreign at once.

“Thanks Zara,” he said before he tilted the jug up, making the water bubble and the container's sides retract as he drank.

“Sure, No-Name.”

At this he paused and lowered the jug, watching her with an expression she couldn't read, even with the Force. “Drake.” At her look of confusion he pressed a hand to his chest. “I got a name – finally. Drake.” When he squinted at her through the fading light, his eyes looked almost golden in the sun.

“Drake.” She tested the name and found that it was a good fit, so she smiled at him again. “I like it. I think it suits you.”

His grin was broad. “I think so, too.”

*​

“Thanks, Zara,” Crest said as the Nautolan girl handed him the jug of water before she moved on. He drank deeply before passing it to Weave, who accepted it with a nod as the bald clone grimaced and rubbed at his legs. “Whew. Remind me never to get burned up in a fire again.”

“You didn't have to help, you know.”

Crest shook his head, his eyes falling on the pyre beyond them. “Yeah, I did.” He was quiet for a moment before he looked at Weave. “I still don't believe it. The Republic's gone and we have an Empire.”

At the word, Weave felt a prickle of danger along his arms though he only nodded. “I know. You were right, before. It doesn't feel real.” He glanced around at the others; one shifting of his eye called up their heat signatures in his implant, a few more allowed him to see them through various multicolored spectra, assuring him that everyone in their group was healthy. Some of the tension lifted from his shoulders and he allowed himself a sigh.

“I wonder what will happen to....” Crest looked at his feet, his expression strange and solemn; his hands were clasped and his eyes were on a distant world. Aruna. Weave didn't need the Force to tell him that his brother was thinking about a young woman he'd met on that planet, well over a year ago, now. So Weave passed back the water and watched as Crest regarded it for a moment before taking another drink.

“As soon as Trax and Ares get back, we can check the HoloNet for news,” Weave said in a quiet voice. “Maybe Kalinda can get a message out, somehow. Or Upala might have a contact on the planet...we can ask her when we get back to the Chu'unthor.” He wished he had something better to offer than vague words.

But bald clone gave a soft smile when he handed his brother the jug again. “That would be good.” They sat in silence for a little while, passing the water back and forth. Finally, Crest spoke again, but it was not to Weave, and his tone had returned to its normal joviality. “Guys....are you hungry?” The question was directed at the clone boys, Keo, Finn and Risky, all of whom were seated nearby, sipping their water. At Crest's words they sat up and nodded, which caused the bald clone to chuckle as he struggled to his feet. “Alright. Let's go see how many protein bars we can scrounge up. No, Finn...I don't need any help-”

“Yes, Finn, he does,” Weave called out, smiling to himself as the boys gathered around Crest to offer their support to the limping clone, before making their collective way to the Wayfarer. Weave took another drink and felt the cool trickle of liquid down his throat, enjoying the feeling of sitting still, of being at rest. It was a welcome change from being hot and sweaty, though he thought that he wouldn't have minded a shower at the moment. But I don't feel like being on a ship right now, and if anyone gets to bathe it should be the lads.

He glanced beside him at Levy, who had found a small insect of some kind and was watching it crawl across his “regular” hand, his expression conveying nothing so much as fascination. The boy had still not said a word, and Weave was starting to think that he might never speak. I haven't had a spare moment to go through any of Creon's research. Perhaps the answer lies there. It might be the nanogene droids' effect on his body, or perhaps it's something more psychological.

Soft footfalls brought him out of his reverie and him to another's approach; turning, he noticed General Tallis – or Honi, as he supposed he'd have to start calling her – walking up to him. “How is Levy? I meant to ask you about him,” she said by way of greeting. “I thought about him quite a bit.”

Levy was still engrossed with the insect, grinning as it buzzed around his head; every now and then it caught the fading light and flashed iridescent green. “He'll be okay, I think. I hope.” She nodded and they both regarded Levy for a moment.

Beyond them, Kalinda and Stonewall were wholly absorbed in one another; while they appeared to be only seated side-by-side, he could tell from their expressions that they were oblivious to everyone else. “Thank you for helping her,” he said at last, nodding to the dark-haired woman. “I haven't gotten a good look at her knee, but I know that you had a lot to do with the fact that she's able to walk at all.”

“It was the very least I could do.” Honi paused and looked at him, the sunlight casting her hair in a fiery glow. “I'm so sorry about your brother. He....he saved her life, as well as mine and Zara's. I don't know if I can ever express my gratitude.” She sounded humble, which would have amused him in any other circumstance, but the mention of Milo was enough to make his heart tighten with grief.

As it was, Weave couldn't speak, so he simply gave her a small smile. “I think he knows, anyway.”

She nodded as well, and for a moment there was a new kind of silence between them. Finally she lifted her eyes to his and he noted that her expression had shifted. “But I want to repay him. And all of you.” Her voice was firm. “I'll think of a way.”

Weave tried not to chuckle, as her tone held no trace of humor. The idea of anyone repaying us for anything....I suppose she's been hanging around Kalinda for too long. After a moment he shrugged. “If you like, Tallis. I won't stop you.”

*​

True to their word, Traxis and Ares returned right at dusk, bringing fuel and other supplies with them. The brothers' reunion was quiet as they made their way to the ship to collect Milo while Ares, the Jedi and the young clones gathered beside the pyre. After a brief debate they'd removed his armor, and placed him on a makeshift pallet to carry him from the ship. They set him on the stack of dry wood and Traxis brought a torch from the bonfire they'd started at their camp, lighting the bottom and then stepping back to stand beside Crest, Ares and the clone boys. Weave stood behind Levy, his hands on the boy's shoulders. Drake and Zara stood with one another, beside Honi.

A step away from them were Stonewall and Kalinda. His hand was around her waist and her head was resting on his shoulder as they watched the flames rising, reaching for the sky. A datapad rested on the ground by his feet, but when he'd scanned the recommendation that he'd written for Milo, the words sounded deficient in light of the sacrifice his brother had made. He saved my life on Teyr and again on Ambria, because when he saved Kali, he saved my heart and soul.

Stone held her closer, recalling her description of the order. I'm sorry that I doubted you, Mi. I never should have thought that you'd do anything but what was right. I only wish I had been there, too.

“It wasn't your fault.” Her words reached to him through the snap of the fire. “If anything it was mine. I should have sensed the commandos' intent. I shouldn't have let him lay down his life for me. It was the last thing that I wanted any of you to do.” Here, her voice cracked and she pressed her face into his side, her shoulders shaking as she wept. Stonewall felt his own cheeks grow wet as well and for a while they held one another without speaking. Finally her movements grew quiet and she met his eyes; he noted the lingering grief in her gaze that he knew was mirrored within his own.

Rather than say anything, he kissed her forehead and they watched the flames in silence for a while longer. Everything ends at some point, he thought. Even stars die after a time. The Jedi Order and the Republic that had both stood for innumerable years were scattered to ashes, like particles and embers borne on the rippling waves of heat; Stonewall mourned the death of their old lives, of the past to which he could never return, and the countless innocents who had perished needlessly.

But here, with this small group of people that he'd known for years – or only a matter of days – things were peaceful in a strange way that he was just starting to understand. They were his present, he realized. And his future; as he looked around at them, he thought back to Master Altis' words. You make your own reality.

Stonewall took a breath and smiled to himself as Kali shifted closer to him, her breathing had returned to a normal pace and he could sense that the edge had been taken off of her grief. For a few minutes he allowed his thoughts to drift into the future while her presence at his side kept him tethered to the moment. There is so much work ahead of us and so many questions to answer, but I think it will be okay, in the end. We have each other, and for that I can be nothing but grateful.

Still thinking of Milo, he spoke again. “I owe him everything. I really do.”

The movement of her nod was gentle against his chest. “Me too.”

Later, the group sat around the bonfire, silent. Suddenly, Ares rose and moved to his ship; Stone did not miss how Traxis' eyes marked the Twi'lek's progress and smiled to himself. Good for you, Trax. Everyone deserves happiness, after all. When he returned a moment later, he was carrying a few bottles of spirits, which he passed to the adults.

Crest examined the bottle and raised a brow at Traxis. “So these are the supplies you got, eh vod?”

The scarred clone exchanged glances with Ares and then shrugged. “Look, if there was ever a time to indulge, it's right now...but you don't have to participate, baldy.” He made to reach for the bottle, though Crest pulled his hand back and glowered.

“I didn't say I wanted out.” As if to illustrate, he popped the seal of the bottle, took a drink, and immediately began sputtering and coughing, which caused everyone to laugh.

Kali sniffed the rim of the bottle in her hand and took a cautious sip, despite the fact that Force-users had a notoriously high tolerance for alcohol. “Toydarian whiskey?” Ares nodded and she pulled a face even as she took another drink. She then passed the bottle to Stone, who took a sip as well and tried not to grimace at the taste.

Several minutes later, Crest began to chuckle to himself. Traxis raised his brow. “Are you drunk already? I know that the long-necks made us all lightweights, but...”

“No,” the bald clone replied, watching the fire. “I was just thinking about the time that Milo's HUD kept malfunctioning and he got lost....it was Telos, wasn't it?”

“I remember that,” Weave said, sitting up. “The comms weren't working either, so it took him hours to find the rest of us....”

“And when he did, he was covered in mud, wasn't he?” Stonewall added with a smile. “He kept saying 'but this means I'm not shiny anymore, right guys?'”

Kalinda laughed. “Do you remember what happened on Ketaris?” Stonewall cast her a look and she rolled her eyes. “Oh come on, Stone...it was funny.”

“You weren't laughing too much at the time,” he remarked, though he was grinning as well. “'Front and center,' indeed.”

They reminisced for some time until lapsing into silence, though it was somewhat sated by laughter. Finally, Kalinda let out a sigh. “I wish I had brought our instruments....I think he would have enjoyed an impromptu concert.” She gave Stonewall a remorseful look and he hugged her shoulders.

But Levy, who had been listening to their words, sat up and raced towards the Stark Raven, returning moments later with a familiar-looking instrument case, which he presented to Kalinda with a flourish. Weave furrowed his brow. “That's your dulcimer case. Levy....?” The lad gave him a wide grin and the older clone chuckled, reaching out to ruffle his hair. “Ah. I think I see.”

Kalinda, who had smiled at the boy and was already in the process of tuning the instrument, looked up. “What is it?”

“He likes music,” Weave explained. “I think that Creon programmed the nanogene droids with music, somehow. It helped....calm him down.”

Crest took another swig of the bottle in his hand and nodded to Kali. “Start us up, boss.”

Ares glanced at Traxis. “A Jedi musician? I think this is going to be interesting.”

“You have no idea,” the scarred clone replied with a grin.

Kalinda laughed and adjusted the tuning again before casting a glance at the others and naming a popular song. Honi shook her head. “I don't know that one.”

“Neither do we,” Drake replied with a look at Zara.

The Nautolan girl smiled at him. “I do. It's easy. Just follow my lead.”

After a few introductory bars, the song began in earnest and soon the group was singing along. As far as these things went it was a simple tune, light and frothy, but the lyrics held a wistful edge that seemed appropriate.

As he added his own voice to the harmony, Stonewall watched the others and noted how the glow of the fire cast everyone in a radiant light. They feel peaceful, he realized with a start. Despite everything. But it's not the alcohol, it's the company, the fact that we're all alive and together, even after so much has happened. Even after everything around us has been destroyed, it's good to think that there is a way to move on, in the aftermath.

Tomorrow we can start picking up the pieces of our lives.

At some point Crest had begun changing the lyrics of the song to something slightly more lurid, which caused the kids – and the adults as well, though at first they tried to hide their amusement – to add their laughter to the melody.

Beside him he heard Kali's voice laid against the music and wondered if he would ever hear any other sound that he loved quite as much; she caught his eye and gave him a smile, which he returned with all his heart.

*​

Some time later, after the others had gone to sleep in the the cabins on either ship, Kali and Stone remained seated by the fire; their hands were linked and she was leaning against his shoulder. He'd removed most of his armor, but still wore his black body-glove and she cold feel his arm shift beneath her cheek as he spoke. “It feels like a lifetime ago that we were here, doesn't it?”

Nodding, she looked up at him. “I remember...I even got you to sing along with me when all the others were reluctant.” It was a fond memory. He was the only one who was willing, at first. I had no idea what it would lead to.

He chuckled and smoothed a bit of hair away from her face. “Kali, you could have asked me to juggle everyone's buckets and I would have done it in a heartbeat.”

“Really? That sounds like a sight I'd like to see.”

“Perhaps another time.” His voice was quiet and he was still looking at her in a way that made her forget everything else, even as he gave her a feather-light kiss against her forehead. About a meter from them, the fire offered a warm glow, its brightness reaching for the sky above that was peppered with stars. The twin moons were just starting to appear at the horizon: one was a crescent sliver, the other was heavy and full.

Kalinda couldn't remember what the moons had looked like the last time she was here. It's been so long, even though I know that two years isn't really a long time. But so much has changed since then. So many things are going to change. Hopefully it will be for the better, in the end. But it seems like such a long way from right now.

Beside her, Stone reached forward and lifted the poker that Trax had whittled, his expression contemplative while he stoked the core of the fire; as the flames grew, pinpricks of embers were lifted by the currents of heated air, creating tiny gleams of light against the darkened backdrop of the sky.

As she watched his movements she reached out to him through the Force. Stone's energy was bright and warm in a way that was wholly unlike the fire, but she felt it bathing her in a gentle, loving light just the same. The way I feel for him is one thing that hasn't changed for the worst, hasn't been torn to pieces. If anything it's only grown stronger.

The flames were high and fierce now. Satisfied, he sat back and set the poker down; she leaned into him a little more, taking comfort in the familiar press of his body against hers and thinking that there was no place in the galaxy she'd rather be then right here.

So after a few more minutes she looked at him. “Stonewall, will you marry me?”

At her words his entire body stilled, to the point where she thought that he'd even stopped breathing for a long moment. Finally, he turned and blinked at her once. “What?”

She tried not to smile at his aghast look. “Will you-”

“Yes.” Even as he said the word he shook his head, as if to clear it. As if he couldn't believe what was happening.

Now she couldn't help the bubble of laughter that sprang from someplace within her heart. “You don't have to answer right away. You can think it ov-”

“Yes, Kali. Yes.” Stonewall was staring at her as though seeing her for the first time, but he was able to recover his composure after a few deep breaths; when he kissed her, she could only think of that moment and the fact that she wanted nothing else at all. After some length of time – she wasn't sure – he took another breath and studied her. “Are you sure that you want to associate this moment-” he caught her hands and squeezed them. “-with everything else that's happened?”

Unable to contain her smile, Kali shook her head. “Stonewall, I have no idea what's going to happen tomorrow, or the next day, or any day after that. So much in my life is uncertain right now, except you; and I think that the only thing I do know is that I want to be by your side, for as long as I can.” She met his eyes again, noted their remarkable color with absolute joy. Something whispered in her ear: yes, this is the way it should be. “What do you think?”

For an infinite moment he looked at her and she could see that he was trying to remember something. Finally he spoke – in Mando'a – and it took her a minute to recognize the significance of what he was saying.

Wedding vows, she realized as she asked him to say the phrase again; minutes later, once she repeated the words back to him the the simple ceremony was complete. For a minute or so they sat in awed silence before exchanging a wide grin, after which they reached for one another again.

In that moment they were as much a part of each other as they were of the fire before them and the stars above. It was done and there was no going back.

But even so, it was only the beginning.

To be continued....​

​

*****​

​

A/N: One "bonus" chapter after this, then this series will be on hiatus until January 5, 2015. Thank you for reading, and I hope you have a lovely holiday season. ​

 

[going through withdrawal already]

This is such an awesome story. I love Kali's proposal. And how Honi's loosening up a little.
Enjoy the holiday season!

 

@gracesonnet: You are such a sweetheart! Thank you for your unflagging support and kindness! I hope your holiday season is full of good things! ​

The Choice​

[CLASSIFIED] Report of RC-6520, “Ferro,” Commando, Teroch Squad following Order 66:

After crash-landing on the planet Ambria, we made a distress call that the Jedi in question answered. She and her team arrived within four standard hours and offered assistance, but were unable to prevent the death of our squad-mate, Exer, from the injuries he sustained during the crash. Because our ship was irreparably damaged, General Halcyon determined that we would accompany them to Coruscant the next morning.

When we received the contingency order and were preparing to fire on the Jedi, I was wounded by the trooper who traveled with them, whom I was then forced to kill in self-defense. Once he was disabled, we incapacitated the Jedi Knight, Kalinda Halcyon, after which we were able to terminate her with a thermal detonator.

From that point we fought the remaining Knight and her Padawan. It wasn't an easy battle – as they attempted to perform mind-tricks on us – but we were successful in the end. Their bodies were destroyed in the fight, so we took their lightsabers as proof of their deaths before re-activating our distress beacon and awaiting rescue.

*​

Everything was wrong.

RC-6520 felt lost, as though he were tumbling through the void of dead space and had no way of knowing what was up or down, right or left. Nothing made sense to him any longer and he was starting to think that his own brain had betrayed him. To add to the confusion, he grasped at fragments of memories and broken strands of thoughts, things that had settled over his mind like a tarp, beneath which he could discern that there was something. Something with shape and substance that he couldn't quite make out.

For the umpteenth time since he'd written it, the clone commando known as “Ferro” stared at the transcript of the report that he'd given once he and his squad-mate, Archer, had been picked up from Ambria, the day after Order 66 had been issued. He'd long since memorized the words, to the point where the letters held no meaning; now they looked to be only gibberish, incoherent bits of script that meant nothing.

But I killed the Jedi. I shot her knee to disable her, then shot her through her heart, right before we used the thermal det. I remember. Those were the words that he told himself, over and over; they had become his mantra.

But despite all this, there was an empty place inside his brain where sensations should have been: the press of the blaster's muzzle to unyielding breastbone; the lift of her throat as she took her last breath; the piercing blue bolt of plasma that entered the Jedi's chest and burned through her pale tunic before she collapsed at his feet.

Ferro had killed before and knew how it felt to take a life.

And it didn't feel like nothing.

*​

From your earliest memory you were given a number, and for a long time that was your only identity. But one day something changed, and you found a name and added it to who – not what, but who – you are.

*​

Ferro considered the possibility that, if his brain was lying to him, he would have no idea, would have no way to answer the question. So he thumbed through his datapad, again and again, staring at the words he'd written and searching for a clue. A glimmer of truth. A sign that he'd been traumatized or confused...the thought crossed his mind that it was he who'd been injured, not poor Exer, and that they just weren't telling him how bad it had been, because what did it matter, really?

I'm just a clone. No one cares what happens to me. It was a thought that had never brought him any bitterness until now, and he didn't understand why.

His dreams were strange, too. Not that they'd ever been particularly pleasant, but now they were filled with images and sounds that he couldn't quantify. The first time it happened – the night after the night, actually – it was a word that he didn't remember the next morning, when he'd woken up sweating and shamed.

Later, his dreams held the sound of fire. Not the belch of flame and smoke that would accompany a thermal det, but a small, soft crackle over dried wood. There was a woman's voice in the distance, and another voice so much like his own it may have been, whispering a hoarse warning.

But that's impossible. Who could have given warning? No one knew. No one saw it coming...least of all us.

One night – last night, actually – he'd woken up begging someone for mercy, for release. His throat felt coated with dust even as it ached from words that seemed like they were trying to claw their way out of his esophagus. Luckily he'd been alone, as Archer spent all of his free time in the gym. Come to think of it, Archer hadn't talked to him at all, since....

Since Ambria.

Ferro frowned and set the 'pad down on his bunk, using the base of his palms to rub his eyes. His and Archer's quarters on the new base was small, sterile. No different from any of the other places they'd spent bits of their lives, but there was a certain utilitarianism to the room that made him uncomfortable. It was too blank. Too new. It smelled like fresh plastic and he often felt cold here, which caused his mind to flicker back to Ambria and the memory of fire.

Idle thoughts. Silly, pointless musings. There's no place in my life for such nonsense. Ferro shook his head to clear it, but the choking dust, the hissing fire, and the sound of the Jedi's voice remained in their places at the corners of his mind. It wasn't a voice he would ever forget, but it was not her dying gasp, as he'd told his CO. It was not the final shudder of her body before she collapsed to the yellow, Ambrian dirt that he could see playing like a holo-vid in his waking mind, but rather the firelight that glinted off of her eyes as she watched him without seeming to.

As if she was searching for something.

*​

You act as though you are not afraid of anything, but you feel fear every time you take a breath. It never goes away, and you think it never will.

*​

Ferro shook his head again, rose from his bunk and went to find Archer.

It was late – or early – and there were few troopers around the gym at this hour, but even if he'd been within a sea of identical bodies Ferro would have found his brother-by-choice in a heartbeat: right now Archer was alone, as he'd been since Ambria. He was lifting weights in the corner and watching his reflection with the bearing of a man who was trying to look anywhere but his own face. At Ferro's approach, his eyes closed – briefly – then opened as if in resignation. Archer set down the weights, rose, and turned to meet his brother.

They stood in silence for a moment, caught beneath a vent that was shooting out cold, recycled air that held a metallic edge. Finally Ferro shook his head, as if answering the question he was about to ask. “Can't sleep either?”

Archer looked away, frowning. “No. Not since...” His feet shifted as he left the word unsaid.

“Yeah.” They hadn't talked about it – not at all – and Ferro didn't know how to start. So he pretended to study the series of weights, regimented against the mirror. “I've had strange dreams.”

His brother crossed his arms close to his chest, as if the action was all that was holding him together. “Me too.” He frowned again; perhaps the expression had never truly vanished. “There was a fire, wasn't there?”

As he studied his fellow commando, Ferro felt his own brows start to knit. “There was. And...she talked to us. Didn't she?”

At this, Archer's frown deepened, etched on his face like it would never leave, and there was fear in his voice when he replied. “I don't know. Maybe. Probably. Jedi like – liked – to talk a lot. Right?”

“I'm not sure.” Ferro glanced around the gym, noting the presence of only two other clones, both of whom were engrossed in their own workouts, separate and uninterested in himself and his squad-mate. No one really talked to the commandos, and Ferro suddenly realized that he kind of preferred it that way. Orders had come through a few hours ago – soon they'd be absorbed into another squad. The 501st was apparently taking all of the commandos, sucking them up like a sponge; the words duty, unity, and purpose were being slapped over them like paint on armor that was against regulation now, because they were servants of the Empire. Still faceless, still nameless. But so much more than before.

He shivered and stepped away from the air vent.

*​

But there is always going to be change...as long as you're alive.

And how long might that be?

*​

Archer tracked his brother's movement with his eyes. “We got their lightsabers.”

“Yeah...” Ferro nodded. He remembered the feel of the weapon in his hand; it was a slender cylinder, heavier than he'd always imagined, simple but elegant. The blade...he'd ignited it once before he'd handed it in – just because. It was unexpectedly yellow. The color reminded him of Ambrian dust so he'd shut it off after a few seconds. “We did, didn't we?”

He frowned and rubbed at his forehead. Something was wrong. Everything was wrong. “It feels...strange,” he added in a muted voice, not daring to meet Archer's eyes, in case he really was going mad and would see the truth mirrored in his brother's gaze. “Like...a memory, but of watching a holo-vid or something.” There was no shudder, no dying gasp. Her heart didn't stop beating. The Jedi's blood didn't pool at my feet, as it should have. As I said it did.

I'm a liar. Or I'm kriffing crazy. Does one negate the other?

Archer gave him a careful look. “I had the same feeling.” There was a pause while he cleared his throat. “Guess we got banged up worse than we thought?” His voice held an edge of hopefulness that made Ferro want to laugh. Or cry.

He was pretty torn right now.

*​

You are more than what you've always been told, Ferro. I want you to understand that you have a choice, always.

*​

“Maybe.” Ferro felt the muscles in his shoulders pull into a shrug, but the movement was stilted, as if there were strings on his body that jerked him along in the expected motions, while he watched from above. He'd made his report, he'd returned to his post, as he was supposed to. As he expected himself to. Each morning he woke up and did his job, then went to sleep that night, trying not to think too much in between. Trying not to wonder if he was a liar, or worry that he was losing his mind.

I killed her. I killed the Jedi, as I was ordered. Because I was ordered. Because I didn't have a choice. I know I killed her.

Don't I?

Ferro looked at Archer; for the first time in his memory it was like seeing his own reflection. Within his brother's eyes he saw echoes of his own doubts and confusion, which frightened him like nothing else he'd ever experienced. Then Archer looked away, dropped his gaze to his own feet, but it was too late. The damage was done. Ferro felt his jaw tighten as if he'd eaten something sour and his body was rejecting it. I have to know. He spoke the words aloud.

“Yeah. Me too.” Archer's face was drawn, his frown was deep and permanent, but his eyes were fixed on some distant stretch of space.

At some point the other clones had left; the gym was silent. It was only the two of them now, along with the fragments of their memories.

Ferro decided that it wouldn't be that way, much longer.

*****​

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A/N: And on that ominous note, this portion of the Eye Of the Storm trilogy is over. But take heart, as there's one more fic to come! Postings for Alchemy will begin Monday, January 5, 2015. I hope everyone has a safe and happy holiday season! ​

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Thanks for reading. ​