Lyrics: "Something Good Can Work," by Two Door Cinema Club, on Tourist History.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Let's make this happen, girl.

You've got to show the world that something good can work,

And it can work for you,

And you know that it will.

Approximately two weeks later...

Honi glared at Weave but managed to keep her voice cool. "I'm fine."

His reply was an easy, "If you stay in the sun any longer, you'll be burned to a crisp."

Her mouth opened to object further, but...well, she was a little warm, come to think of it. A fair complexion was a ridiculous evolutionary byproduct; she could hardly be in direct sunlight for more than a few minutes before she started to burn.

But she had a job to do. She pointed to Kalinda and Milo, dutifully performing their aquatic therapy while Zara looked on. "I have patients–"

"They'll be fine," Weave broke in, coming to stand before her so that she was somewhat in the shade of his muscular chest and broad shoulders. She did not entirely mind his interruption. "So will the others," he added. "You've done a lot for them already; coming here was a good idea, but I'd rather you not suffer for it."

It was nice to be out of the direct sunlight, even for a moment, but Honi was not yet willing to relinquish her role. "If the Force can keep a woman unconscious for knee-replacement surgery and help her recuperate," she met his eyes, "it can work wonders on a sunburn."

"Of that I have no doubt." He smiled. "But your nose is very pink."

Her face heated in a way that had nothing to do with the sun. Like all the clones, his skin was tan. Regardless of Jango Fett's heritage, the Kaminoans had probably tweaked the clones' genetics so they could withstand direct sunlight for prolonged periods. Unlike her.

She sighed. "Very well. But keep an eye on Kalinda."

Her former teacher sat upon the stone steps that led into the freshwater pool, speaking with Traxis and Milo as she and Milo did the exercises Honi had assigned each of them. At Honi's look, Kalinda met her eyes and shot her a thumb's up. Barely a week from her surgery, and the woman seemed not to have a care in the world. Of course that wasn't true, but the surgery had seemed to improve Kalinda's mood in a way Honi did not quite understand.

Weave didn't follow her gaze, only gave a solemn nod that was belied by the flash of amusement – and attraction – in the Force. "Of course."

Honi's face heated again, but she merely turned away from Weave and made her way to the shade of the nearest deity statue, one of the many scattered throughout the pool, raised above the water level on stone bases. The sunstone statues glittered in the afternoon sunlight. Smiling men, women and animals wreathed in jewels and flowers seemed to watch over the supplicants who traveled to the vibrant teal waters, hoping to reap the benefits caused by the springs' cocktail of healing minerals.

Admittedly, coming to the temple was one of Kalinda's better ideas. Once the dark-haired Jedi had learned of the springs of Chamunda's Tears, she'd insisted on bringing the entire group – Jedi and clones alike – with Queen Hari's blessing. Parts of the temple were sacred and only to be visited by believers, but this particular pool was free for anyone who could make the trip. If the temple of Chamunda's Tears had not been in the middle of a rocky nowhere, Honi would have found it rather convenient.

Honi leaned against the damp statue and watched the others. Most of the clones swam laps; some, like Zero and Milo, simply treaded water. Weave joined the fellows swimming laps. It was harder than it should have been to tear her eyes away from his graceful form as he cut through the blue-green water.

"Master!" Zara breached the pool's surface directly beside her, sending water droplets scattering. "You're all pink!"

Force above; she'd been too absorbed in Weave and hadn't sensed her own kriffing Padawan. Honi swiped the water out of her eyes. "Yes, Zara. Genetically, I'm not as fortunate as the rest of you."

The girl's large, dark eyes swept over her, and she frowned. "Does it hurt?"

"No." Honi glanced at her bare arms, which were indeed a bright pink, and grimaced. "Not yet." She'd only worn a tunic and pair of shorts; not such a good idea in hindsight, but she'd been preoccupied with other, more important matters.

"I can help," Zara offered, toying with the end of one of her lekku. "If you want me to, that is. Or I can leave you alone..."

The Padawan should have been helping Kalinda, as Honi wanted her to get some experience with physical therapy, but Honi recalled Kali and Weave's words, and shook her head. "No, Zara. I'd be thankful for your assistance. It's difficult for me to heal myself."

"Really?" Zara placed her pale blue hands on Honi's arm, and a cool tingle began to spread from the point of contact. It was brief, but effective; while Zara did her other arm, Honi examined the first, and was pleased to see that her skin was its normal, ivory color.

After Zara finished with her other arm, she hesitated. "I didn't think you had trouble with any kind of healing. You make it all look easy."

"Perhaps it seems that way," Honi replied with a shake of her head. "But it isn't. I've struggled with quite a few aspects of healing; only through practice and study have I reached this point. And," she gave Zara a knowing look, "unflagging concentration, young Padawan."

Zara's lekku flushed. "I'm sorry, Master. Here, let me finish–"

But Honi pulled away before Zara could lay hands on her face. "No, that's not necessary." She took a deep breath, hoping to stall for time while she worked out the right thing to say. "Everyone has their own talents, and their own...areas that need improvement. You are easily distracted, but you have a...knack for healing, especially when dealing with emotional trauma."

"You really think so?"

Honi nodded. "On the journey to Kamino, you helped Kalinda through a difficult time, when I was unsure how to handle her outburst. I know I was angry at first, because you disobeyed me, but I am ultimately grateful you did so."

Zara gaped at her, but Honi continued, anxious to be through with this conversation so they could move forward. "And I've seen you with the boy; he's clearly been through an ordeal, but you have helped him cope."

"All I've done is look at the nanogene droids with Levy," Zara replied, brow furrowed. "We've almost figured out how to program them. We've talked a little bit, which I like, but don't know how helpful it is. I mean, it's nothing like what you did with Milo, or how you kept Kalinda in stasis during her surgery."

"But you enjoy talking with him." Honi was careful to keep any judgment from her voice.

Zara skimmed her palms through the water, creating small waves around her body. "I do. I like talking to people."

"I never have." Honi glanced at the others, most of whom were happily chatting away. Weave was helping Kalinda get to her feet – carefully. "I'd rather work on a patient who cannot speak," Honi continued, looking back at her Padawan. "Perhaps it's why I took so well to morichro. In any case, I think it wise for you to develop your skills along your preference for emoting with others."

"Like...studying psychology?" When Honi nodded, Zara's eyes widened and she grinned. There was something infectious about a Nautolan grin, and Honi found her own mouth pulling into a faint smile. "That would be..." Zara's grin widened. "I think I'd like that. But," her face fell and worry rippled through her Force-signature, "will I be able to? Aren't we in big poodoo with the Council?"

Honi's amusement evaporated. "I'm not certain," she admitted. "I've not spoken to anyone on the Council since before we left Coruscant. Too many other matters have come up, and they are still fighting the Wars; it's likely they've not had time to worry overmuch about you and I."

"But we're doing something good here," Zara said. Her eyes had fallen on Levy, who was swimming laps with Weave and some of the others. The sound of the clones' laughter added a musical quality to the air.

Across the pool, Weave looked up from his latest lap and met Honi's gaze, and he smiled. She smiled back. "Yes, Zara," she said quietly. "We are. For now, it will be enough."

Meanwhile...

Kali glanced up as the familiar presences reached her, and smiled. Two of them she'd expected; Sita had said she'd join them at the temple of Chamunda's Tears when she had time, and no doubt Upala had wanted Tejaal to check on her patients.

But the third presence...

"What the kriff's gotten into you?" Traxis asked, shading his eyes with the flat of his hand as he looked around the pool. Mi and Weave glanced up as well. Crest was doing laps with the others, and hadn't yet seen the newcomers.

Kali grinned and pulled herself upright, resting her elbows on the stone edge of the pool to get a better look. "He's here."

"Who the fek is 'he?'"

There; she spotted Quinlan Vos' familiar, dark dreadlocks swaying as he approached. She lifted her hand in a greeting that he returned, and her smile widened. "My 'Jedi pal.'"

At this, all three clones looked sharply in Quin's direction, and she felt their Force-presences prickle with anticipation – and agitation. Quinlan was their best chance of finding Stonewall, after all. So much of their hope was riding on him.

When she reached the pool, Sita smiled down at Kali. "You're looking very well; I take it the healing process is still being Force-aided?"

"Honi's done wonders," Kali replied, flexing her left knee. It was swollen and scarred, and protested most movement, but she had hopes for the future. "I see you brought a guest."

At this, Quinlan gave a short bow in the manner of the Arunai. "Her Majesty was kind enough to escort me. Nice work, Kali," he added, giving her a wink. "You always pick the most interesting places to land."

"It's a talent." She glanced at the guys, who watched Quin with varying degrees of curiosity, or, in Trax's case, suspicion. Would he ever learn to trust anyone? She made the necessary introductions, then cleared her throat. "I'd like to speak to Quin in private, but Honi will be quite cross if I walk anywhere..."

"Don't worry about it," Weave said, nudging Milo. "We'll clear out."

"Would you please show me the others?" Sita asked, though her attention was on a particular bald clone. "I'm curious as to how they are doing. I regret that I've been unable to spend more time among them."

Tejaal echoed the sentiment – with a look at Milo, Kali noticed – and the group slipped off to the other end of the pool; the guys swam while Sita and Tejaal walked along the stone edge.

Kali glanced up at Quinlan, who'd stepped out of his boots to sit on the edge, dangling his bare feet in the water while she sat on the steps that led into the pool. "Thank you for coming," she said.

"Sorry it took so long to get here. I had to sort out a few things first." He scrunched his nose. "You know, it's kriffing weird to have a whole clone company to deal with now...I have to say, it's nice to be a free agent for the moment."

"Your men will be okay without you?"

"They seem capable enough," he replied, shrugging, though he said nothing else, just regarded her expectantly.

Well, here we go. Kali ran a hand through her damp hair and met his eyes. "How much did Obi-Wan tell you?"

Quin leaned back on his hands and tilted his face to the sun. "Kenobi was damn concise, even for him, and I have no clue how much the Council knows about your, er, situation. All Obi-Wan told me was that you need my help tracking down a Force-sensitive who's gone barvy or something."

Her stomach tightened at the description, but it wasn't wholly inaccurate. "Something like that." She took a deep breath. "The Force-sensitive is a clone trooper named Captain Stonewall. He's not barvy; he was reconditioned." She glanced at Quin to see if he knew the term. At his nod, she continued, though she lowered her gaze to the water. "We don't know how he came to be Force-sensitive, but I'd been training him for about a year. But even so..."

"He's dangerous," Quinlan finished when she trailed off. "Kriff. A clone trooper? Really?" At Kali's nod he shook his head, dreadlocks swaying. "Are there others like him out there? Are we gonna have an army of Force-sensitive, order-following, bucket-heads running around?"

"There's no one like him." The words were sharper than she intended, and she ducked her head again.

A soft tap on her shoulder made her look up, where Quin regarded her with drawn brows. "What is he to you?"

There was no use lying about it, or hiding. Not anymore. Kali lifted her chin. "He's my husband. He's the father of my child."

"Fek, Kali." Quin let out a low whistle, then, to her surprise, chuckled quietly. "When you go against the Code, you go against the kriffing Code, don't you?"

"Don't lecture me. You know I won't listen."

He gave her a sardonic smile. "I'm in no position to lecture anyone, Kali. I just..." He scrubbed a hand over his face, lingering over the yellow tattoo that crossed his eyes, then sighed. "Where was he last seen?"

"Kamino. A...research facility, for lack of a better word, in Timira City."

"Which was...?"

"About three weeks ago." Had it been such a short time? Surely years of her life had passed since she'd last spoken to Stone.

Nodding, Quinlan swept his toes through the water for a few moments, studying the swimming clones, though Kali sensed his thoughts were distant. At last, he looked back at her, and his voice was warm. "I thought there was something different about you. You're all glowy."

Her face flamed. "Shut up."

He laughed outright, and gave her a wink, though his voice turned serious once more. "I'll do my best, but I can't promise anything."

"I know." The sun was warm – too warm, judging by Honi's pink nose – but Kali shivered. "I don't know what else to do. I can't feel him in the Force anymore..."

She looked down, unable to finish the thought. Frankly, it was all she could do to take a steadying breath. The water sloshed around her; a moment later Quin was at her side, wrapping one arm around her shoulder, pulling her into his side. She resisted at first, but relented when he said her name. He was warm and solid – and wrong. They'd never been quite right together. There was no romantic intention within him now, nor within her, but it was good to be held.

Kali exhaled into his hair. "Now you're soaked."

"Won't be the first time. Or the last. Especially if you're sending me off to Kamino. By all accounts, it's a miserable place." He lifted his arm and chuckled. "Your hubby's pals don't like me."

She glanced up. Sure enough, Trax was glaring vibroblades at Quinlan, who raised his hands in mocking surrender. Weave watched with a neutral expression; she didn't see Milo or Crest. A thought struck her, so she sat up and waved Trax and Weave over. They were at her side in a few, graceful strokes through the water, and she didn't miss how Trax's eyes never left Quinlan Vos, who now leaned back on his hands, his tunic floating around him lazily.

"You've never been to Kamino?" she asked Quinlan. He shook his head and she glanced between Trax and Weave. "Then I have a proposition for you–"

"Sorry, Kali," Quin broke in wryly. "My girl doesn't want to share. And I doubt your Stonewall would, either."

Trax bristled at the mention of Stone, but Kali hurried to keep speaking. "Sector Nine was practically a labyrinth; I think your search might go quicker if you had some help..."

Meanwhile...

Sita stood alone in the shade of a feathering nala tree. Captain Biswal and the other guards were nearby, but this temple was one of the few places her captain felt safe enough to leave her without an escort. Each breath brought cool water, sandalwood and roses from the incense burning all over the temple. Birds sang. She watched the clones; one in particular. Crest swam with the others, laughing and teasing, and generally showing no sign that he'd shattered anyone's heart.

Her heart. She swiped at her eyes. Foolish, she scolded herself. You should know better.

He'd been right to say every word because she'd not wanted to see the truth. She'd not wanted to recognize how she was willing to repeat her own, sordid history.

Crest acted the fool, so she'd seen, but he was wise beyond anyone's reckoning. Especially her own.

But she had a reason for coming here, one that went beyond escorting the Jedi or torturing herself with what would not be. After a few more enlightening conversations she had something of a plan in place, but it would require a willing participant with Crest's particularly affable nature. She took a steadying breath and approached the pool's edge, where the clones were gathered.

He did not see her right away; only when the others quieted did he turn. His eyes met hers and widened, briefly, though his face slid into a polite – if uncertain – smile. "Majesty," he said, bowing in the waist-deep water. The others followed his example in near-perfect unison. Evidently their training had come far over the last three weeks.

"I would speak with you," she said, adding, "alone," as if the idea did not set her heart to racing.

The only indication of his emotions was the faint crease in his forehead, though it, too, smoothed as he nodded. He hoisted himself out of the pool easily, grabbed a towel that had been left on a nearby bench, and bowed to her again, as was proper. Sita indicated the stone walkway with a tilt of her chin, and they began to walk.

The moment they were out of earshot of the others, Crest cleared his throat. "Sita, I–"

"I have come on behalf of my people," she broke in, pitching her voice to its most professional. "To ask a boon of you."

"A boon?"

Nala trees hung over the pathway, their leaves dappling the light that fell across the two of them. A gentle breeze brought the scent of jasmine and a little sense of calm. Sita's next words came easier. "We have discussed my desire to help you and your clone brothers. I have spoken to several members of Parliament and a few discreet parties in the Republic Senate. As it happens, there is much interest in aiding the clone soldiers who have taken refuge on our world."

"That's..." He exhaled and shook his head, sending droplets of water flying. "That's decent of them, Sita, but...what does it have to do with me?"

"You have a way with people," she replied, folding her hands before her as they walked. "I would ask you to help me sway the general public to the cause of the clones."

Crest gaped at her a moment, then scrubbed his face with the towel; she thought it was a ruse to buy himself some time before he replied. When he met her eyes again, his bemusement was written in every line of his face. "I'm just a clone. I place thermal dets and blow stuff to haran. I make bad jokes. I'm no," he grimaced, "orator. No mouthpiece for any cause. I'm just a soldier, and not even a very good one."

"You are a gifted speaker," she replied, facing the shifting shadows of the path ahead. "You carried yourself perfectly with Member Ka'ar and Ghosh–"

"Well, they weren't exactly intimidating," he broke in. "But I'm getting the notion that you want me to give a...press conference, or something else totally thermal."

Sita tilted her head in thought. "I had not considered that, but it would be the most effective way to spread the message, and expose you to the widest audience."

"Oh, no." He planted his feet and shook his head. "Sita...don't take this the wrong way, but you're barking up the wrong wroshyr tree if you think I'm capable of anything even remotely like what you're suggesting."

Now she turned to him fully. Any awkwardness she'd felt before had faded in the wake of her hopes; even her heartache had subsided for the moment. Still, she thought her emotions bled through her voice, for all that she tried to hold them within. "You're wrong," she said quietly. "I know you, Crest. I know you are more than what you claim."

"Sita–"

"You can do this," she added, steeling her nerves before she allowed herself to meet his eyes. "Please, at least try."

They stood beneath the flowing branches of the nala trees, just over an arm's length from each other, and never had she felt farther away from him even as her lips tingled with the memory of his kiss. He stared at her and she could see his mind turning over her words, until at last he sighed.

"Alright." He gave a helpless chuckle and slung his towel around his neck, and shook his head again. "But I'm going to let you explain this all to Kali."

Sita could not help herself; when he smiled, so did she. "Very well."

A little earlier...

Milo swept his arms through the cool water, and winced. Kriff! Righty did well enough, moving without any trouble, but Lefty...

He paused and rubbed his left shoulder, where the nerves tingled and stung; the sensation stretched all the way through his arm. He relaxed his wrist and shook out his hand in an effort to relieve the prickling feeling, but didn't accomplish more than slapping water against Zero's back.

"Now, now," the one-armed clone said, turning. "I can be a jerk, but that's just mean."

Milo dropped both hands in the water and sighed. "Sorry, Zero. I didn't mean to splash you."

Zero's gaze flickered to the offensive shoulder. "Not going well?"

"Everyone says it's healing great, but I dunno." Milo flexed his left hand; his fingers were distorted beneath the rippling water.

The other clone chuckled. "At least you have it."

Ah, kriff. Milo's face grew too warm, even accounting for the sun. "Zero, I–"

But Zero lifted his hand and shook his head. "I know."

They stood a little ways apart from the other clones, who were swimming laps at Trax's instruction. The pool wasn't particularly deep, but the water was clear and reflected the few clouds that skated across the bright blue sky.

Trax's voice rang out above the others. "Fekking come on, Ward! You call that a breaststroke? Your buddy Zero could do better!"

Milo winced, but Zero chuckled again. "Quite a character, your brother." He wriggled his stump. "I count myself lucky to make it across the pool without drowning."

"You just need to build up your strength," Milo said. "You can do it."

Zero skimmed his hand through his hair; most of Misfit Squad had elected to keep theirs short, but Zero had let his grow out a bit, long enough to flop into his eyes. "Good point." He seemed to think for a moment, then glanced back at Milo. "Say, can you swim with one arm?"

"I haven't tried."

"Hmm." Zero flicked his wrist beneath the water's surface, splashing Milo's chest. "Want to find out?"

There was no teasing in the other clone's voice, only curiosity and, to Milo's surprise, a warmth he had never heard before. He nodded and they moved to the other end of the pool, further away from the others.

As it turned out, swimming with one arm, while not easy, was not impossible. It required Milo to turn his body through each stroke in a way that was unfamiliar at first, though he quickly grew accustomed to the new movement. By the time he and Zero called it quits, his right arm was burning heartily, but he'd done many successful, one-armed laps. As had Zero. The one-armed clone moved through the water with the grace of a porpoise, and the smile on his face was perhaps the first genuine one Milo had ever seen him wear.

After a little while, Kali caught Milo's eye, so he bid goodbye to Zero and went to join his Jedi on the steps of the pool, where she was doing the knee exercises General Tallis had prescribed. He had exercises of his own, which he'd been trying to do before his and Zero's impromptu swimming lesson, but now he approached them with a renewed vigor.

"I saw you and Zero," Kali was saying as she flexed her knee. "You guys were making a pretty good showing out there."

Milo grinned. "We were, weren't we? I'm starting to think I'll feel normal again, eventually."

She smiled too, but it was not as broad of an expression as he'd seen on her face before, and he knew she was thinking of Stonewall. She always was; judging by the tone of Stonewall's memories, he'd often thought of her, too. No, not just often. Always. Images rose to the surface of Milo's mind – nothing coherent, just fragments of smiles and whispers – and something ached within his chest, a nameless longing he could not remember feeling so keenly. He looked away from Kali and turned all of his attention to his left arm, dangling at his side once more.

Normal. What's normal anymore?

He was unused to sulking and wasn't very good at it. When Queen Hari, General Vos and Tejaal arrived, Milo was only too happy to turn his attention to Tejaal, if only to see what shade of pink her lips were today. When she met his eyes and gave him a smile he now recognized, heat flushed through his body, effectively pushing aside his melancholy and urging his thoughts in a far more pleasant direction. He smiled back, and saluted her as well, and when her cheeks colored he welcomed the distraction.

A little later...

Tejaal was soft and warm, and smelled like roses. Milo squeezed her hips and marveled at the delighted flush that spread over her smiling face, and pulled her closer to kiss her again. This, too, had become something else he was used to, though far more pleasant than the tingling in his left arm that he could easily ignore when she was near. Impossibly, Tejaal softened further beneath him, opening her mouth like a flower. Her body pressed to his bare chest as she shrugged out of her tunic, draping it on the grass beside them before she deepened the kiss.

Aside from their breaths, the only noises that filtered to temple gardens were the occasional trills of birdsong and the distant cadence of clone voices. Milo hardly remembered walking here, or taking a seat on the wooden bench and pulling her into his lap. His senses swam with the woman in his arms.

They broke apart to breathe, and she whispered his name and ran her hands through his hair. "I really did just want to talk," she murmured, kissing his ears and nose as she spoke.

"You're talking now," he pointed out.

She grinned and shifted her hips. Milo knew she could tell how much he liked it when she did so. "I wanted to tell you how much fun I had the other night."

Heat crept to his face but his own grin was too big to allow him to hold anything back. "Me too. And the night after that."

Tejaal flushed again and skimmed her fingertips over the pink scar on his shoulder. "I cannot pick a favorite. It is true what I've heard about the clones," she leaned her face close to his, "you are fast learners..."

Maybe he could have said something else here. Whenever he flirted with her, she got the most adorable smile, the kind that dimpled her round cheeks and lit up her entire face, and Milo found he enjoyed seeing it, very much. He enjoyed everything they did together. These past three weeks on Aruna had been most educational – and fun.

More than anything else, save perhaps getting Stonewall back, Milo wanted fun to be enough, so he went without words and just kissed her again.

She was bare from the waist up, now, and he spent some time kissing her, everywhere, just as he'd learned she liked. His reward was a series of breathy, feminine sighs that sent a thrill of desire and satisfaction through him, and again when he gently nipped her throat. His body, too, approved of everything happening, especially Tejaal's shifting hips and soft heat, so close...

But his thoughts roamed.

"Is everything alright?" Though her cheeks were still flushed, she frowned at him in concern and rested a hand on the side of his face. "Mi? You stopped. What's wrong?"

Kriff, she was beautiful. Warm, soft, all woman. She wanted him, and he her. That much was evident. She was more than he'd ever had, She really should have been enough.

The realization swept over him as if he'd been splashed with ice water. She wasn't enough. They were nearly as physically close as two people could be – and would be there soon, if things progressed further – but he felt nothing for her other than affection, which was mirrored in her eyes as she studied him. Affection. Warmth. Kindness.

Not love.

This felt good, sure, and he wanted to continue – definitely – but it wasn't that pervasive, consuming, head-spinning, stomach-fluttering, drop-kick-your-heart-before-sending-it-into-orbit feeling that he'd experienced through the filter of Stonewall's memories. It would never be.

But that wasn't Tejaal's fault. Maybe it wasn't his, either. Maybe it was one of those things that was beyond his control. Milo stroked the side of her neck with his thumb and savored the elevation of her pulse, the way her breath caught at his touch. He leaned close again to inhale her scent, and she shivered.

"Milo..."

Perhaps there would be time for love, later. In the meantime, there was no reason to let her suffer even a moment of doubt as to how much he enjoyed her company. He kissed her gorgeous, full lips before speaking in her ear. "Everything's wonderful, cyar'ika. Especially you."

A light, relieved laugh left her, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, and he forgot to think for a while after that.

Later...

"Where the fek have you been?"

"Uh..." Milo scrubbed his damp towel over his hair and was strangely hard-pressed to meet Trax's eyes, more so when Tejaal hurried past him out of the garden and toward the temple's entrance, where Queen Hari waited with her guards.

"Never mind," Trax said, though Milo caught a faint smirk crossing his scarred face. "Kali's looking for us."

He followed Trax down the stone pathway, toward the pool, where Kali was still seated with General Vos. Weave was there, too, and Crest, Levy, Zara and Tallis, and all of them turned to watch him and Trax approach. Crest's eyes darted between Milo and Tejaal's retreating form, and his brow lifted, but for a mercy he kept silent. If Weave noticed anything, his expression did not reveal it.

Kali, too, seemed not to know what Milo had just been doing in the garden, and gave him a warm smile, though it held some apprehension. Once he and Trax were also seated on the pool's ledge, she nodded to the new general.

"Quin's agreed to travel to Kamino and try to track down Stonewall, but I'd feel better if he had a guide: someone who knows Timira City, and who knows Stone. I wish I could go," she added with a frown. "But I'm under Healer's orders to remain here for the time being."

"Yes, you most certainly are," Tallis said sharply.

"Someone from Misfit Squad would be the most knowledgeable about the layout of Sector Nine," Weave said.

But Kali shook her head. "I won't ask any of them to return to that place. Perhaps we can contact the Antarian Rangers. One of them might be able to help."

"What the fek's an Antarian Ranger?" Trax asked.

"Sort of like...non-Force-sensitive support troops for the Jedi," Kali replied. "There aren't that many of them any longer, but they've proven themselves to be rather effective. I've worked with them in the past."

General Vos cleared his throat. "How about we don't and say we did?"

"Quin, it's just an idea–"

"I'd like to go," Milo heard himself say. Seven pairs of eyes fixed on him; he flushed under their combined scrutiny, but continued. "I mean, if that's okay..."

Kali frowned. "You...want to go back there?"

"Not really," he admitted. "But I want to find my vod more than I don't want to go back to The Dregs."

Crest and Weave exchanged nervous glances, and the medic cleared his throat. "Mi..."

But the moment the words left his mouth, he knew them to be true. Returning to Kamino, while it wouldn't be a pleasure cruise, would be a nice distraction from the thoughts that had plagued him earlier. Tejaal was lovely, but she was not enough to tether him to this world.

"Besides," Milo went on. "I can probably help General Vos, somehow. I was with Stonewall when he...you know." He couldn't voice the event, but his shoulder twinged as if in remembrance.

Kali studied him a moment; he recognized the look on her face from his own memories, but it was through Stonewall's that he knew she didn't entirely believe what he was saying. But at last she nodded and glanced at her Jedi pal. "There's your guide."

"Kali, I'm a tracker. I don't need a guide." General Vos glanced back at the clones. "No offense, Milo."

The dark-haired woman straightened and met his eyes. "The more I think of it, the more I believe Mi's experiences will come in handy."

General Vos frowned. "Kali–"

"I saw him right after they reconditioned him," Milo broke in. "He tried to kill me – sort of. I have his memories. I can help you, sir."

The new general gaped at him, but Kali's voice filled the silence. "Milo...are you sure you're ready to return?"

"No," he admitted. A flurry of movement caught his eyes, and he watched Zero, Rime and Cobble swimming in the far end of the pool, Ward and Halligan gliding along beside them. All were laughing openly. They should; they were free of that place.

But he had some unfinished business with The Dregs. "But it's the right thing to do," he added, and looked back at Kali.

She gave him one of those fond, exasperated looks he knew well, and glanced at General Vos. "Even you can't refuse an offer like that."

The new Jedi threw up his hands. "It's pointless to argue with you, isn't it?"

"You really should know that by now," Kali replied, grinning. "Maybe you and Honi can start a support group."

"If Mi's going back to that shithole," Traxis broke in. "I'm going, too."

Milo goggled at him. "You don't have to do that, Trax."

"Shiny or not, you need someone to watch your six." The scarred clone spoke with a little more force than Milo thought was needed, and crossed his arms before his chest. "If anyone wants to argue about this, do it with someone who gives a fek. I'm going. End of discussion."

Kali shot General Vos a lifted brow that Milo thought no one else was meant to see, and the other Jedi rolled his eyes, but nodded. "Fine. Whatever." He looked between Crest and Weave. "Do you two want to tag along, too?"

Weave replied first. "If it's alright with everyone, I'd like to remain on Aruna. There's a few matters I need to keep my eyes on."

"Same here," Crest added, though his face was a curious shade of bright pink. What was that about? "I've got, uh, stuff happening."

Everyone looked at him curiously, but Kali recovered first, sitting up and drawing their attentions. "Very well," she said in that calm, Jedi-voice of hers. "It's settled. Quin's going to leave tomorrow morning; Trax, Mi, if that's alright with you, you can join him."

"I'm ready to leave right-effing-now."

Milo glanced up; from where he sat, he couldn't see Tejaal any longer. He told himself to remember to tell her goodbye, but his heart and mind were already across the galaxy, on the storm-world. "Yeah," he added, meeting Kali's eyes again. "Me, too."