Chapter Five: Affirmation

As Stonewall watched the dark-haired woman sweep her sun-colored blade before him, the thought struck him again – or for the first time? – that she was the most beautiful anything he'd ever seen, and it wasn't just because she was in the process of saving his life.

However, he was prevented from ruminating further when he glanced behind her and noted the presence of another SBD, shambling up as if to take revenge for its comrade that she'd felled with her lightsaber.

So he poured blaster-fire towards the clanker, watching with satisfaction as it mutated into a smoking heap of slag. Maybe I just do one thing, he thought as he looked back at her to make sure she was unharmed. But at least I do it well. "General Halcyon, you're okay?"

She was limping already, but her mannerisms suggested she was trying to hide the fact. "Fine, Stone," she called out, swinging her saber to deflect more fire. He moved so that he was at her side, then twisted around so that he was behind her to offer what cover he could, and for a few moments they stood back-to-back, immersed in their respective battles.

"They haven't even gone after the facility," Stonewall said after a minute. "Just ambushed us out of the blue."

"Something's definitely out of place," she agreed, and he felt rather than saw her move away from him the moment that she had an opportunity; a glance showed him that she was attempting to make her way to the other Jedi, which he supposed made sense.

But he could see that her path was blocked by the ceaseless array of droids...there were so many. When had there ever been this many? His vision swam with durasteel and crimson slices of plasma, and he fired, fired, kept firing. Gloved fingers hardly let up on the trigger of his deece and he still couldn't stop the never-ending line of the blasted things, though he worked to keep the general within his line of sight.

That was when he realized that his weapon was failing; the charge was nearly gone. Silently cursing, he ducked behind a mound of smoking clankers and reached for a fallen brother's blaster pistol – Becker, he thought, but couldn't be sure right now – taking a few seconds to switch out power packs on both his old weapon and the new.

Now doubly armed, he took one more deep breath before peering up to check on General Halcyon; after a brief search he was dismayed to see that she'd somehow been separated from the main group, pushed farther away than before from the center of the battle and from the other Jedi. In of itself, that wouldn't have been so bad. A Jedi alone in a hostile situation was the norm, but this situation was different in his eyes; his jaw tightened with fury and his stomach dropped to his knees at the next sight that greeted him.

Ventress. The witch was upon the Jedi, and he could see at once that General Halcyon was no match for the Seppie Force-user in straight-up saber combat. Twin crimson blades clashed with a single yellow, and the dark-haired woman was pushed back and away, farther and farther, where no one could reach her through the calamity. Stonewall shouted something in his comm - exactly what he later had no recollection of - but he was dimly aware that he'd called for backup; then he sprang forward, emptying both of his weapons towards the enemy with single-minded determination.

While he lived and breathed, Stonewall would not let harm come to Kalinda Halcyon.

The understanding was stronger than a promise and more binding than any oath, and it made him wonder if the balance of his life was tipping towards some unknown destiny.

But it didn't matter. He fired at Ventress, willing her to turn her attention away from the dark-haired woman and towards him, though to his dismay she deflected his bolts. They were far from the others now, and he had no idea if his frantic call had been heard, or if anyone could respond. Everything else fell away and he did not stop the avalanche of his fire, instead taking a brief moment to revel in the scowl that Ventress eventually tossed his way.

Perhaps he was inflicting more damage than he'd reckoned. Perhaps there was some signal that he'd missed. Perhaps luck, fate, or some combination of the two had a hand in the next moment; he didn't know. Ventress lifted her wrist up to her mouth and shouted an order. At her words, a host of droids descended upon him from some unseen source, and he was forced to abandon his fire on the witch to protect both his general and himself.

His general...

Stonewall could hear the keening of a ship's engines above his head, but hardly paid it any mind as he frantically searched for her, because the dark-haired woman was not where he'd last seen; his heart nearly skidded to a halt in his chest when he realized that she had fallen to the dirt – hopefully just unconscious – and was currently being hauled towards the incoming vessel by several clankers.

Ventress had leaped to the lowering ramp of the ship, and was making her way inside; her back was to him, so Stonewall didn't think, he jumped. The dust that was being kicked up by the engines was thicker than stew, and he hoped that he'd be concealed enough to do whatever he was apparently doing.

He might not have gotten away with it, as there was no way for him to really sneak inside the ship without the Seppie seeing him, but for the fact that something else caught her attention at the last minute and she turned away from him further, facing the ground below. Stonewall watched the droids bring the Jedi into the ship; he took a deep breath and followed as best he could.

From that point, much of his initial time aboard the Seppie ship was a blur, though later he would go over it all very clearly in his mind: hiding in the cargo hold; creeping along through the ship to locate the place where Ventress was interrogating and torturing – that word caused bile to rise up in his throat – the general; hiding again in a ventilation duct while he waited until the coast was clear to enter the room where the dark-haired woman was being kept.

Stonewall found her after what felt like hours, though it had only been about ten minutes, fifteen at most. Through it all, his focus, his drive was this: he had a mission, self-appointed though it may have been, and he could not deviate from it.

That's all it is, he told himself as he prepared to enter the room. Mission. Duty. Honor. I read something about this in my research earlier...the code of the Jedi or something. How does it go?

There is no emotion; there is peace.

Yeah, he really wished that were true. His throat was tight, and he swallowed as he stepped within the room where she was. As he did so, he braced himself for what he might find.

It was not as bad as he'd feared, but it was not good, either. Suspended by a set of energy cuffs that held her about ten centimeters off of the durasteel floor, she was coated in sweat, so much so that he could see her tunic clinging to her torso, and her hair fell across her shoulders, matted and filthy. Eyes closed, lips slightly parted, she appeared to be asleep, but he could see the distinct rise and fall of her chest that indicated she was at least alive, which was heartening.

Swallowing again, Stonewall removed his helmet and approached her to stand as close as he dared; he could feel the faint tingle of the energy cuffs in the air between them. "General? General Halcyon?"

There was no response, and he took a deep breath to steady his racing heart. She was alive, after all, likely she was exhausted from whatever the witch had done...no, no he could not let himself dwell on that part right now. He tried again. "General? It's me, Stonewall."

Too much to hope his name would rouse her; he debated touching her cheek but fought back the urge. But the fear...the fear was building inside of him and a moment later he found that he couldn't help but reach forward and brush back an errant strand of her hair, sticky with sweat. She looked small and so fragile, not at all like the capable warrior he'd seen on the battlefield, nor the smiling woman by the campfire.

Please be okay, he thought, forcing his fear behind a mental wall, shoving it aside so that he could do his duty, so that he could help her. Please.

"Kalinda?"

Not until her name had left his mouth did he realize he'd said it, and his hand jerked away from her as if he'd been shocked. It was a testament to how deeply his training ran that he winced in preparation for a reprimand on the casual address, but the reaction was instantly thrust back – along with his fear – because she was stirring.

Dark eyes opened, slowly fixing upon him and he nearly laughed with relief.

However, when she spoke she sounded pretty ticked off, which was not quite the reaction he'd expected. Again, he had to marvel at how she surprised him, especially when she was cross and he was playing the misguided hero.

"What in the seven hells of Tethys are you doing here, Stonewall?"

Fek, she sounded awful, and her eyes on him were dark and fierce, such that he immediately lost his train of thought. "I...er, came to rescue you," he managed to spit out, wincing at the stupidity of the words. Would it always be so, when he talked to her?

Probably. Perhaps he should go ahead and resign himself to the fact.

As it was, relief at seeing her alive coupled with his bewilderment at her sharp tone caused him to continue babbling like a kriffing shiny. "Though, I admit it wasn't the most well-thought out plan, and I'll probably be court-martialed for such a ridiculous stunt-"

Thankfully, she interrupted his stream of nonsense before he really got going. "You need to hide yourself. I'm assuming that she doesn't know you're here?"

The tone of her words had softened, indicating that she wasn't really angry with him; that was a relief as well, so much so that he couldn't help but give a faint grin at the revelation. Of course, she'd asked him a question, so he forced the smile away and shook his head in response.

At that, she gave a sigh that was pure exasperation, an almost comical sound despite the dire nature of their situation. "When she lands, sneak off and call for help," the Jedi said, in all seriousness, adding: "Forget about me; I'm a lost cause."

To further drive the point home, she gave him another hard look. "That's an order."

Stonewall was aware that there were many things he didn't know, but the one thing he did know – which she apparently did not – was that there was no way he was going to leave this ship without her. "With all-due respect, sir...I don't think you're in your right mind."

He ignored her stunned look and turned to the console to see if he could get it to cooperate and release her. Maybe a well-aimed shot from his blaster would do the trick, but he didn't want to risk drawing attention to them, right now. As he looked it over he spoke again, quickly and in the most casual manner he could manage, both to distract her from being cross with him and to keep his mind occupied. Otherwise, the sight of her wincing in pain would be enough to get him angry.

Really angry.

"I'm sure that the other Jedi won't abandon you, General. We probably just have to hold out until they come for us – well, for you anyway." He mentioned the Jedi because he thought she'd take heart, knowing there was another out there who cared for her; he thought it worked, because her expression softened, and he could see that some of the pained look in her eyes seemed to ebb.

Taking heart in the minor victory, he pressed on. "But in the meantime, I'll try to figure out a way to get you down from there." He paused, then mentally shrugged as he added: "I doubt that's very comfortable."

As he said the – admittedly terrible – joke, he glanced her way and felt a thrill of happiness run through him when she gave a faint chuckle in response, meeting his eyes as she did so. He couldn't help the smile that came to his face because of it, then ducked back to the console so she wouldn't notice that his ears were likely bright red.

It's not flirting, he told himself as he studied the console, wishing he was more technically inclined. It's...morale boosting. Flirting probably shouldn't include a torture-chamber. Or Seppies. Or-

At that moment, her breath caught and her eyes lifted, turning to the door and narrowing. Immediately, all of the inappropriate thoughts fled from his brain as he watched her. "What is it, General?"

She swallowed; the movement of her throat was tight with undisguised fear but her words were calm. "Ventress is coming back. Hide yourself."

Stonewall didn't want to hide anymore. Unbidden, his fingers tightened around one of the blasters but the Jedi glared at him again. "You're no good to me if she slices your head off, Stone. Hide. Yourself. Now."

No, he really didn't want to go away and leave her here, alone with that witch, but he couldn't quite summon the nerve to refuse her orders again, and he decided that she must have a plan of some kind; he nodded and made his way for the door as quietly as he could, slipping out into the hallway and kneeling so that he could enter his former hiding place. He'd just settled down, almost doubled over to fit in the ventilation duct when he marked the sounds of Ventress stalking down the corridor and entering the room.

This time, he spent a few moments adjusting the sound pickups on his helmet, and could hear everything that was being said between the two Force-users.

Needless to say, it was an interesting conversation.

"Tell me what I want to know!" Ventress snarled her words; Stonewall felt his fingers tightening over his weapon, but he forced himself to relax and listen, because Kalinda – no, he corrected himself, General Halcyon – was speaking with a storyteller's lilting cadence.

"Jonas was a good Jedi and a wonderful Master, but he was a better man." There was a pause, and her voice changed, softened, and Stonewall could make out traces of sorrow, the likes of which he'd never heard from her before. "Not a day goes by that I don't think of him, and miss him."

So she knew something of loss, after all; he'd suspected as much, but there was something about the confirmation that filled him with heaviness. He exhaled silently and gave a small shake of his head, because he wished it wasn't so, for her.

Again, her pitch dropped, so he had to tweak the electronics in his helmet to catch the faint words. "He was killed when I was sixteen. He died in my arms."

Another brief pause, and he was gripped with a nameless urge to embrace her; even now, hunched over and hiding as he was, his hand lifted out as if to reach for the dark-haired woman that he couldn't even see. A breath later he closed his fist in on itself and held still, because she was speaking again. "I would give anything to hear his voice again."

Stonewall listened as she went on to describe the person who'd murdered her master – this Jonas – and how she had wanted to kill him once she did find him at last. But she didn't. He didn't know why the revelation surprised him like it did; Jedi did not seek revenge, did not swear vengeance on those who had wronged them: they brought the wrongdoers to justice.

"None of it mattered in the end," General Halcyon said after a sigh so faint he nearly missed it. "My master was still dead, and I was quite alone."

You should never have to be alone, if you don't want to be, he thought, then frowned, because the Seppie was speaking.

"You should have killed him," Ventress said in a low, feral voice. "You should have avenged your master."

Stonewall thought back to the Jedi axiom he remembered from his earlier "research:" there is no emotion...there is peace. He waited, thinking that the General would reiterate the teaching to the Separatist, but again – always, he realized – she surprised him.

"I wanted to kill him," she said slowly. "I wanted to very much. But in the end, as I said, it made little difference. Death and revenge are part of a vicious cycle that is much harder to break than to perpetuate. But I suppose your Sith masters feel differently."

Sith. Stonewall blinked into his HUD automatically, frowning a moment later when he realized that he had no link to the rest of the GAR, out of reach as he was; he didn't like being without ready-access to information, but filed the unfamiliar word away in his brain to look up when he got the chance.

If he got the chance.

As he listened to the Jedi and Ventress speaking – more about this "Sith" faction that he was unfamiliar with – the realization dawned on him that the general was trying to...convince the enemy of something. A moment of reflection made his eyes widen.

She – the general, his general – was attempting to change the Seppie villain, or at least offer a new perspective, much in the way that she had done with himself and his brothers, those nights by the campfire.

She cares what happens to this...Sith person, too? She must...at least enough to try and persuade her to think something different. He shook his head in wonder.

As he was trying to wrap his mind around the concept, Ventress spoke again, and before he knew what was happening he heard the Jedi's cry of pain; even from here he could smell the electricity that was being used to torture the dark-haired woman, and it took everything he had not to burst out of his hiding place and enter the room with his blasters blazing.

You're no good to me if she slices your head off, Stone.

Maybe not, he thought, hands tightening further still on his weapon. But I'll bet I could put up a hell of a fight up until then. Jedi may not believe in revenge, but I'm no Jedi.

As if to spur his ire even further, Ventress must have increased the intensity of the Jedi's pain, for the sound of her shrieking filled the room, and Stonewall shook his head and started to get to his feet, because that was the final straw. There was no way he was going to stand by and let this woman – General Halcyon, not Kalinda, as he had to keep reminding himself – be tortured any longer, not while there was breath left within his body.

"Even if they do manage to rescue you," Ventress was saying. "I swear on my master's grave that there will be nothing left of you for them to find."

If he lost his head, well, then so be it. Decapitation was preferable to a blaster-bolt to the chest. Quicker, so he'd heard. Better to die while fighting for something – someone – real and good, someone he could see, someone whose voice would stay with him long after its source was out of his life.

Stonewall had never given much thought to regret, but with this thought he regretted something, right now, though he couldn't have said exactly what.

Instead, he crawled towards the duct's opening and prepared to exit; that was the moment when he heard the door to the torture-chamber slide open, followed by the stalking footsteps of Ventress as she hurried away. He wasted no time and entered the room, steeling himself for what he would find.

At first he thought his general was dead, he really did, and any sense of regret was drowned in a furious, bitter sorrow that was unlike anything he'd ever known, save one other time in his existence. Numbly, he slipped off his helmet, tucking it under his arm as he stepped closer, because he had to know for certain. She was so still...

I failed you. His own breath was coming in short puffs; his hands felt cold and foreign even as they trembled. Kalinda...I'm sorry.

No. No, he would not believe it. Stonewall took a breath and tried to pull himself together. With one swift motion he removed the glove of his left hand and placed his fingers barely a centimeter from her parted lips, just in case...

Yes. Relief swept through him when he felt the softest kiss of her breath against his skin.

Before he could allow himself to relax, the ship was buffeted by an explosion of some kind, and he was nearly toppled off of his feet. A glance around the room indicated it appeared stable enough, but he didn't know how long that would last; it was time to get off of this ship, somehow. He was reluctant to leave her side, even just a few steps away, but he had to try to figure out that damnable console one way or another.

Maybe his luck would improve and he'd get a chance to shoot the kriffing thing. Shooting something would be a welcome change from all of the sneaking around, at least.

The sound of her voice startled him out of his thoughts. "What are you doing?"

"Trying to set you free before she hurts you again, or the ship is blown into oblivion," he replied, glaring back at the console and clipping his helmet to his belt in a brisk, businesslike manner.

At least she didn't sound as bad as she looked; the fact that she was talking at all was a good sign. "Well, don't. It's not time yet."

Okay, this was getting rather infuriating. Stonewall couldn't help but stare at her like she'd lost her mind. "What?"

Was there a reason she kept postponing the rescue attempt? Some obscure Jedi-code that he had no understanding of? Stonewall mentally resolved to learn everything he could about the Order when – when, he decided, not if – they survived this ordeal.

"It's not the right time, Stone," she said as her jaw grew tighter. "Soon."

Please stop calling me that, he wanted to tell her. Because I can't say no when you say 'Stone.' I can't...

Her eyes on his were filled with resolve, the depths of which he'd never seen in her, or anyone else, for that matter as she added: "I promise, soon."

He's never liked her plans from day one, has he? ;)

Reviews are welcome! I love to know what you guys think so far.