Chapter Two: Diversion

The evening after General Halcyon's arrival, Stonewall stood aside, watching Commander Cody and several others prepare to infiltrate the Sep facility. The very last thing that Stonewall wanted to do was eavesdrop, but he couldn't help it, especially when it seemed like the two Jedi were cross with each other for reasons that were beyond him.

General Kenobi sounded a bit weary as he faced the dark-haired woman. "Kalinda, I hate to pull rank like this-"

"Since when?"

"-but I'm giving you an order," the bearded Jedi finished, added an almost pleading look as he did so. "Stay here until I need you."

Stonewall wondered at the expression, as he'd never seen General Kenobi appear as anything but calm and collected. In response, General Halcyon frowned, but nodded as she replied: "As you wish, Master Kenobi," in a quiet voice.

They looked at one another for a moment more, then Kenobi turned to Cody, who gave an order to his men over the comm; Stonewall watched as the group made their way out of the camp and towards their various speeders that would carry them across Basrah's rolling hills.

General Halcyon stood alone, and he noted the way that her arms were crossed before her chest, indicative of the fact she was displeased with something that was – very likely – beyond his grasp. Unbidden, his legs carried him to where she was, and he stood beside her for a moment, watching the clouds of dust that the others' speeders left as they raced away. Again – and feeling just a little bit odd about it – he studied her through his HUD, and noted that he could see a mixture of worry and frustration on her face. An overwhelming urge to say something swept through him, but he took a breath first to gather his thoughts.

"It's no fun being left behind, sir," he said in a carefully mild voice. "I hate sitting around and waiting, but sometimes that's what needs to be done. After all," he added after a beat, hoping that the words didn't sound as silly to her as they did to him. "If they need help, we'll be the ones to give it to them."

At first he wondered if she would reply, because she didn't say anything for a moment, then she turned her face up to him again and he got the impression that she was trying to see through his bucket. "I know," she admitted. "It doesn't make it any easier, though."

With her attention fully upon him, Stonewall found that he was at a loss, and he was suddenly very aware of the fact that everything about him was fumbling and awkward: his arms felt leaden at his sides, his body-suit itched and pinched when it should have felt like a second-skin, and each thought that crept through his shabla brain seemed slow and stupid. In short, he felt wholly out of place, and it was a feeling unlike any he'd ever known.

Her eyes were so dark, and he had the sudden, wild thought that he could get lost looking into them. But that was silly, wasn't it? Eyes were...eyes. They had one purpose and one purpose alone, just as his deece did. Just as he did.

So...why did he think otherwise, when he looked at her?

Of course, of course the Jedi must have picked up on his thoughts, and she blew out a breath. Steeling himself for a well-deserved reprimand of some kind, Stonewall tensed, but when she spoke there was a trace of humor in her voice. "What is it?"

Do not say what you're thinking, his brain ordered his mouth. Under no circumstances are you to indicate that she makes you nervous, or make a mention of her eyes.

So he shook his head. "Nothing, sir."

Naturally, it didn't work. General Halcyon spread out her arms in a welcoming gesture even as she flummoxed him with her next words. "Stonewall, I give you free rein to speak your mind, if that helps."

Not really. Quite the opposite, actually, so he furiously tried to think of something else, anything else, to say to her other than, "I can't stop looking into your eyes, General Halcyon."

"It's just that...well..." This was ridiculous; first his attention kept getting drawn towards her, then he couldn't even string a sentence together? Pull yourself together, soldier!

Finally he blurted out the rest of the thought, which turned out to be a completely inadequate, "Sir, I thought that the Jedi were all so good at waiting and being patient." Had those words really left his mouth? Really? As if to further add to the mountain of idiocy he was burying himself under, he added: "That's what General Kenobi's been saying."

Or something close to it, anyway. The bearded Jedi said many things, most of which went in one ear and out the other, but he recalled hearing several mentions of waiting and patience. Again, he was inordinately thankful for the cover of his helmet, and took a breath as he waited for her reply, which was – he was quite certain – sure to be some kind of comment on the stupidity of his words, followed by an order for him to go away and leave her alone.

But instead, she smiled. At him.

At him.

"I can't speak for anyone but myself," she said in a gentle tone that was unlike any other he'd encountered in his life. "It's true that we're taught to be mindful, to have patience and compassion above all other traits...still," her eyes on him softened, here, and all he could do was stare at her beneath his bucket. "It doesn't make waiting around for your friends any easier."

Before he could form a reply, she turned to survey the other clones who'd been left behind as well; they were engaged in various forms of cleaning or weapons inspection, just as they'd done the last few weeks, and he watched her eyes narrow a little as if in puzzlement. After a moment she glanced his way again. "What do you fellows do in your down-time besides chores?"

Nothing, he wanted to say. Cleaning weapons and the other tasks were not chores: they were life. Aside from battle, Stonewall knew that there would never be anything else for himself and his brothers, but that was okay. That was The-Way-Things-Were. Finally he shrugged and shook his head, figuring that she may as well know the truth now, if she didn't already. "What else is there for us to do, sir?"

The way she looked at him...for a moment Stonewall nearly chuckled at the pure bewilderment on her face, though his amusement quickly faded as he watched her expression shift to one of remorse. Not pity, though, he realized after a moment of consideration. Remorse, he was certain.

However, before he had a chance to say anything, her features melded into a smile and she blinked up at him. "Lots of things, actually." She glanced around the camp at the others, none of whom seemed to be paying attention to her, then looked back his way. "Have you ever played trillium?"

"No, sir." He watched as she motioned to him, following a moment later when she made her way to a collection of crates; she pushed three together in a vague row, then fished around in the pocket of her tunic, pulling out a small holoprojector and setting it on top of the crate at the center of the other two. She settled down on one of the empty crates and looked up at him expectantly, which was when he realized he'd frozen in place as he watched her.

"Here," she said, waving him over and gesturing to the other crate. "Have a seat, Lieutenant."

As he did so, he puzzled over her words. When had he told her his rank? Had he told her? Stonewall couldn't remember, so he figured that maybe Cody had, or the other general. But if that was the case, did it mean that someone had volunteered the information, or that she had asked? Part of him hoped she'd asked.

As he watched her toy with the settings on the holoproj, he frowned to himself at the thought. Why did it matter, anyway, if she had sought the information out on her own?

What difference could it possibly make?

He sighed. No one, Jedi General or rawest shiny had ever elicited this many questions from his thoughts before, and he wasn't quite sure what to make of it.

At last she sat up, seemingly satisfied with the display, the likes of which Stonewall couldn't make heads or tails of: it appeared to be a long tray, with two rows of six concave indents that ran parallel to one another down either side, with two, large bowl-shaped spaces on either end of the board. Within each of the twelve smaller indents were four small, pebble-looking objects, glowing faintly blue in the manner of holograms. He looked from the board to her, but she only smiled at him again.

This time, there was a funny flip inside of his stomach as she did so, and he wondered if he was coming down with something, or maybe if he'd eaten some expired ration-packs.

"It's really easy," she said, her voice pulling him from his thoughts. "The object is to collect as many of the pieces as you can." With this, she began to explain how it was done, pointing to the various components of the game-board and showing him what she meant.

It appeared to be a simple enough game, but Stonewall found that he had to struggle to keep his attention on what she was saying and not on her. He managed. Barely. However, when she finished explaining and they began to play, Stonewall found that he was drawn into the game more than he'd anticipated. It was deceptively simple in appearance, but he could see after just a little while that a bit of strategy would go a long way.

Attention focused on the game, he was startled when he heard her chuckling; looking up, he realized that she was smiling at him again. "General Halcyon?"

"Congratulations, Stonewall," she said, nodding to the board. "Not bad for your first time."

He glanced down and realized that he'd collected the majority of the rounded pieces, and felt heat creep to his face – he hadn't quite been able to remove his bucket around her, just yet, so she wouldn't see if he was flushing. "I'm sorry, sir."

She tilted her head and regarded him curiously; the light from both the hologram and the fading afternoon was casting her skin in a luminescent glow. "Sorry for what?"

"I..." He had no idea, really, but figured it was probably protocol to let one's CO win in any game. He'd have to check the regs later, to make sure. But for now he'd been asked a direct question. "I won."

"You earned it," she said with a shrug, reaching forward to reset the board again. "Another round?" Before he could reply she gave him a knowing look. "How about best two out of three?"

Beneath his bucket, Stonewall was startled to realize that he was grinning. "You're on, General Halcyon."

Three games turned into five, then seven. It had grown darker and darker as time passed, until the last rays of the sun were buried beneath the horizon, and his HUD indicated that the temperature had dropped several degrees. In the back of his mind, Stonewall was aware that some of his men had taken notice of the fact that he was spending so much time alone with the Jedi, but he found that he didn't much care about it, at the moment, because General Halcyon was laughing at something he'd just said.

Now, of course, he had no memory at all of what words of his had elicited such mirth, because he was captivated by the way that laughter transformed her face: her eyes were squeezed shut and her lips were parted; more of her dark hair had come undone from the braid and had drifted around her cheeks.

"I never would have guessed," she said finally, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes with the sleeve of her tunic before regarding him with a bemused expression. "You don't look like the type."

Shab, shab, shab, he thought with a casual shrug. What did I kriffing say? "I guess looks can be deceiving, General Halcyon," he said at last, watching her as she took another breath before she began to consider her next move.

Illuminated by the blue glow of the holo-board, she grinned again and lifted her brow at him. "That's very true."

Before he could reply, he heard the voice of Captain Lefty over the soldiers' comm channel. "Hey Stonewall...how's your date going?" The comment was followed by snickering of several of the others who were listening.

Stonewall blinked into his HUD so that when he spoke, his voice would carry over the comm and the external mic would be silenced. "Sir, it's not like that..."

"I'm just messing with you, Lieutenant," Lefty replied with a dramatic sigh. "Calm down. Mind if I join you? I'm about bored to death hanging around with these shinies." There was a chorus of quasi-offended voices at this, which Lefty laughingly deflected.

There was nothing he could say, of course. If the captain wanted to join him and the general, Stonewall certainly couldn't stop him, though he did wonder at the brief flash of irritation he felt as he watched Lefty head over to their position. As if sensing his distraction, the general cleared her throat, which made him wince inwardly. He set his mic to external output again. "Sorry, General. One of the boys had a question."

"I didn't hear...oh," she said, and he watched spots of color appear on her cheeks. "Your helmets have comm channels. Of course." She gave a small laugh and looked down as her head shook, which was when he realized that she was embarrassed.

Learn something new every day, he thought as he studied her. Jedi get embarrassed, too. It was an odd revelation, though he suspected it shouldn't have been. They were mortal; they were not infallible deities, despite their preternatural powers. But he'd never really thought about it, before now.

Strange, indeed.

"General," he said after a moment. "Would you mind if Captain Lefty joined us? He'd like to learn how to play as well."

"Of course I won't mind. Here, I'll reset the board and let the two of you face off." With that she leaned forward to adjust the holoproj; as Lefty approached she got to her feet and smiled at the other clone. "Captain, I hear you're interested in trillium?"

Lefty paused, then removed his helmet to give her a mild salute and one of his trademark, lazy smiles. "Never heard of it before, General Halcyon, but I'm always keen to learn a new trick or two."

She laughed and directed him to sit opposite Stonewall; as he did so, Lefty set his bucket down on the crate beside him and dutifully listened as the Jedi began to explain the rules of the game. As she did so, Stonewall toyed with the idea of removing his own helmet, but decided against it, in the end. It felt...better, with something between him and her, at least for now, though he hadn't the vaguest notion as to why that would be the case.

As he watched Lefty absorbing her words, a thought struck him: they were identical, with and without the armor. However, the armor was protection – obviously – in the sense that it offered Stonewall a degree of anonymity, and he liked that he was able to choose to wear it, or not.

But his face...his face was the same as every other man around – save General Kenobi – and for reasons he couldn't quite fathom, he was bothered by the idea that she would see his face and think of him as just another clone.

But that's a ridiculous idea, he told himself as Lefty began his turn, moving the individual pieces through the series of indents in the tray. I am identical to the others. Comes with the territory of being a clone. No use trying to hide it, or pretend it isn't so.

Still, Stonewall watched her out of the corner of his eye as she explained a certain strategy to Lefty and wondered if she could ever consider him to be unique, and why in the stars he'd ever think of such a thing in the first place.

Eventually she pulled up another crate and watched the two of them play; which was when Stonewall realized just how long he'd been sitting; he shifted in his seat and silently cursed the less-than-comfortable Kaminoan design of the plastoid armor. At the movement, the Jedi glanced at him. "Everything okay?"

"Er..." Stonewall didn't really know how to explain it to her without sounding like a gundark, but he was saved from having to do so by Lefty, who gave a light laugh.

"It's this armor, General," the captain said as he rapped his knuckles against his thigh-plate. "It's a bit...uncomfortable to sit down in for overlong periods of time."

She looked at Stonewall as if for confirmation, and he gave a slow nod of agreement, though his face was heating up again and his stomach was doing that churning dance it did when he ate something that didn't agree with him.

The dark-haired Jedi frowned and ran her eyes over Stonewall's armor, then she glanced back at Lefty. "Can't you request something more...comfortable?"

Lefty shot Stonewall a brief but amused glance, then shook his head. "It doesn't quite work that way, sir."

"Basic armor is standard-issue for the majority of us clones," Stonewall added, watching as her gaze fell back on him. "It's upgraded every so often, but the design of the...er...seat has yet to be readdressed."

That was when she did something totally unexpected: she leaned forward to Stonewall's forearm and hovered her hand above the gauntlet, glancing up at him as she did so. "May I?"

He had no idea what she intended to do, but her proximity made it impossible for him to reply in any way other than a swift nod. Out of the corner of his eye he noted both that Lefty was fighting back a laugh, and that every clone in the immediate area was watching the exchange.

But soon all those other things fell away, because she'd decided to rest her hand against the smooth, white plastoid as if assessing its merit. It appeared as if she was examining the gauntlet, so he activated one of the exterior lamps on his bucket to aid her sight, but for most of her inspection it was all he could do to breathe normally.

The general tapped the plated armor, lifted his arm slightly to look at the way it fastened, and then met his eyes – or, rather, the place his eyes were behind the helmet – so he killed the head-lamps in order not to blind her.

"I suppose it would be uncomfortable to sit in," she said with a half-smile that he could see, even in the sudden darkness that surrounded them.

Lefty was still fighting back a chuckle, and Stonewall knew that it was due to his own reaction to the Jedi rather than anything that was being discussed. "The long-necks didn't concern themselves so much with Human anatomy when they designed the armor," the captain said, and the Jedi lifted her hand away from Stonewall as she turned her head to focus on the other clone.

There was a strange emptiness around Stonewall with her absence, but he shrugged the thought away and managed to add: "It serves its purpose."

"Just like us, right Stonewall?" Lefty was grinning in earnest now, but the Jedi didn't seem as amused by his words.

Stonewall felt a strange urge to see her smile again, so he cleared his throat. "It's an interesting design, actually," he said, unfastening his gauntlet as he spoke. "The armor clips together, like you probably saw with my gauntlet, but the bodysuit underneath is what makes it special."

"What do you mean?" She was leaning his way again, watching him with interest.

As was Lefty. "Yes, Lieutenant," he said with a lift of his brow. "Whatever do you mean?"

Ignoring a captain was generally not a wise move, but Lefty was known for his good humor, and besides, Stonewall was demonstrating how their armor worked to the new general, so he supposed it could be considered a briefing of a sort.

"Besides being pressurized – with the helmet on, of course – and able to withstand open space for a brief time, our bodysuits are made so that they can be opened at any spot. Here," he pulled apart the pieces of the suit that covered his arm, watching with satisfaction as her eyes widened; the pieces spread apart with ease, and after a moment he slid them back together, running his fingers along the former break to ensure that the seal was intact.

"How does that work?" She looked decidedly impressed, which pleased him in a new kind of way.

"Thousands of microscopic hooks and eyelets," he replied, replacing the gauntlet. "Comes in very handy on the battlefield – otherwise a medic would waste valuable time having to unfasten the entire suit to reach the site of a wound."

He looked back at her, expecting to see her smiling at him again, but instead she looked...well, sad was the only word that came to his mind, but he didn't think it was exactly the right one. She had the expression of one who'd been hoping to hear good news, and had been told instead that none of the others in her squad had made it out alive.

However, as if sensing his eyes upon her, she smoothed her features and gave him a smaller, different kind of smile than one he'd seen before, and nodded back at to the trillium board. "Another round, guys?"

"Sure," Lefty said, leaning forward. "You're going down this time, Lieutenant."

Stonewall chuckled beneath his helmet and shook his head. "I don't think so, sir."

"Which of us do you think, General?" Lefty asked as he gestured between the two clones. "Stonewall, or yours truly? I admit, he's had more experience with this game, but I have the superior genetics." At this, he winked at her, and again Stonewall felt that strange coil of annoyance as she laughed in response.

But then she surprised him. "'Superior genetics' that you all share, Captain. Everyone here is on equal footing, as far as I understand. Well," she amended, her fingers idly rubbing at her left knee. "Almost everyone."

Before either of the soldiers could ask her what she meant, a distinct rumbling noise came from the direction that the others had gone, and Stonewall recognized the accompanying tremors of a rather hefty explosion. Instantly, everyone was on their feet, and the area was awash in brilliant, yellow light.

Yellow?

It was not until he registered the distinct snap-hiss of her saber that he realized that the light was from the Jedi's weapon, and that it was a color he'd never encountered before. Every other Jedi lightsaber that he'd seen was green or blue, such that he hadn't thought they could ever be any other color, but here she was, with a saber that glowed like a sun.

But there was no time to dwell on such silly things, for the others were in danger and she was probably about to give them instructions as to how she wanted the situation to be handled. However, she was silent for a moment, and her eyes held a far-away look that was disconcerting.

All around them, the others had gathered and he noted more than a few awed clones whispering about the color of her saber. Lefty silenced them over the comm, and they all waited for her to speak. After a pause, Stonewall gestured towards the direction that General Kenobi had led the soldiers. "That came from the facility. General, your orders?"

Finally her gaze returned to normal and she took a deep breath as she faced Stonewall and calmly informed them that their brothers had walked into a trap. At the mention of Asajj Ventress, the other clones muttered, but Stonewall merely watched her, and waited.

He could have sworn that she gave him a sardonic look as she spoke, because her words echoed his own from earlier: "They need our help."

Trillium is not canonical - it's modeled after the game mancala. Hey, we have sabacc (poker) and dejarik (chess), so why not mancala? :P

The part about the clones' body-suits was borrowed from one of BunBunFett's vignettes in the series: Virtues From A Certain Point of View.

Reviews! I love them, and Stonewall does, too. ;)