Chapter Two: Out of Sight

1078 days ABG

For the umpteenth time, Kalinda stared at the datapad as if the act itself would bring her closer to finding the missing clone cadets.

The flightpath of the transport, T-5563/R was delineated along an established route towards Drexel, its heading taking it through the Pelgrin system. The cargo, eight adolescent units and an adult unit caretaker (listed below), made contact with the Republic vessel Valiant at 0400 hours, on schedule, but failed to arrive at its destination. There were no other transmissions of any kind made from for the duration of the journey, save for the standard progression reports at each half-day cycle.

An extensive scan of the area revealed no evidence of T-5563/R or its passengers. The Pelgrin system, while it has been reported stable in the past decade, has a history of containing peculiar nebulae, which are thought to contribute to the missing transport. It is presumed that the vessel was destroyed with all hands.

The units in question:

CT-34-3754

CT-34-9905

CT-33-5491...

Kali closed her eyes as she'd memorized all of the cadets' numbers by now. For all the good it's done them. From the ship's galley she could hear the others playing music, the sound rising above the gentle hum of the Wayfarer's engines; she'd excused herself to come to her and Stone's cabin and go over the report – again. It bothers him that I keep reading it, but I can't stop until I find those boys. I can't give up hope even if the Council thinks there is none.

This thought made her frown as she recalled the last time that she'd gone before the august body of Jedi; despite the fact that she knew that they were making their best efforts in what seemed to be a never-ending fight, she still was unable to come to terms with the way that they were handling the war. They say that they had no choice but to use the clones for the army, but I can't seem to accept that. I know that we're in the middle of a horrible conflict and I understand that the Council's actions aim for the greater good.

But in the end, the Jedi Code teaches us to respect and honor all forms of life. Certainly that includes cloned soldiers? For as many awful things as the Separatists have done, at least they don't grow living beings to fight their wars for them.

In her mind's eye she could see Kamino and she recalled Shadow Squad's visit there many months ago which had been her first awakening to the reality of the lives of the cloned soldiers. They were created only to die in the service of the Republic, and most of them will never even think that they deserve anything else. The realization filled her with remorse.

I know that I've grown attached to Stonewall and the others, but I think that has opened my eyes to what it is that they face. From the galley, she made out the resonant, rippling sound of the ion-steel gitar and smiled to herself despite her agitation.

Like all of his brothers, Stonewall had become incredibly proficient with his instrument, and it delighted her to hear them all play. It was a small bit of comfort to think about how far they had each come with the music lessons. Hard to believe that none of them could so much as read music when we met.

But I shouldn't be surprised; they're bred to learn fast and remember everything. This thought inevitably lead her back to her earlier musings; she sighed and scrolled through the 'pad, her gaze distant. After a few minutes she looked up just before there was a gentle rap at her door. "Weave?"

"Can I come in?"

A flick of her wrist opened the door and she took in the sight of the squad's medic: since his encounter with Creon Dai, he'd taken to wearing his full suit of armor almost all the time to conceal the ocular implant with which he'd been outfitted. She had done her best to make things easier for him; at first he was nearly declared unfit for duty, but Kali had used every bit of her sway as a Jedi to dissuade them from pulling him away from Shadow Squad, even getting Obi-Wan and Luminara Unduli to write recommendations that would back her up. But she'd kept most of that trouble from him, as she felt he had enough on his plate. Even now he stood in her doorway and radiated an uncertainty that was striated with grief and anger which no amount of kind words – from her or anyone else – had been able to heal. "What's up?"

He glanced behind him; in the galley, the musical sounds of the other members of Shadow Squad had turned to a new song that Milo and Stone had been collaborating on, and she could feel that their attention was engrossed with the music. "You wanted to know if I'd made any progress with your comm unit," he said, holding up a small, spherical object that looked as if it fitted into a Human ear. "I'm sorry it's taken so long, but I think it should work better, now." He tossed her the device and she caught it, examining it briefly before smiling at him.

"Thank you."

He nodded once. "It's already been sliced into our helmets, so you should be able to hear us."

"Should we tell Crest, or just let him put his foot in his mouth?" The Weave she had met when they'd begun working together would have given her a quiet chuckle; the armored man who stood before her now was silent even as his thoughts seethed. The implant has affected him in ways beyond what we can see. Will he ever be able to recover from what Creon did to him?

Kali found the speculation almost unbearable and rose to stand before the clone she had come to think of as a brother. "Have you been able to figure out any more?" She kept her eyes on his visor, on the place where she knew his eyes were behind the blank face of his helmet. Sometimes she thought that she could see faint lights from the implant that he tried to hide most of the time. He's ashamed...I can tell how much it bothers him. And who can blame him for feeling that way?

Anger rippled from Weave, not at her, but on a distant figure. Creon Dai. After a moment he shrugged. "Sort of." His tone indicated that he didn't want to talk about it, but she was reluctant to drop the matter, as she disliked knowing that any of those she'd grown to care for were under such duress.

Creon Dai captured and did what he pleased with him, with no regard for his life...and sometimes I can't help but think that the Republic – and even the Jedi – are ultimately no better with the way we're using the clones. For her, the comparison was as chilling as it was unshakable.

It was also too much for her to dwell on sometimes."Weave," she said in a quiet voice. "Please take off your bucket."

His chest lifted with a sigh and for a moment she thought he would refuse. However, his hand reached up and popped the seal of his helmet; he tucked the object under his arm and kept his eyes on his feet. She wanted to reach for him, but could sense his unease, so she kept still. The implant was crescent-shaped, covering the space around his left eye and resting about midway on his cheek; it was meticulously crafted and outfitted with a multitude of sensors and lights.

At last her met her eyes and when he spoke his voice held a strange edge. "Zoom capabilities. Heat signatures. Any spectrum I want. Traces of certain gases and molecules. Beyond that...I'm not sure."

"But you think it does more?"

He shrugged again. "Maybe. I still can't figure it all out." His grip on his bucket tightened and she realized that she was staring.

It's frustrating for him to not understand exactly how it works; and it doesn't help that he feels so different from the others. I wish I could do more. For now, all she could do was nod; after a moment of consideration she put a hand on his arm in a gesture of camaraderie. "We'll figure it out, Weave. I promise you, we will."

Weave sighed and replaced the helmet, and as he turned from her he paused at the door. "Maybe, Kalinda. I really don't know, anymore." The words were distorted by his mic and her fingers closed around the comlink as he slipped from the room.

1079 days ABG

When Zara awoke, the first thing she noticed was that she was lying against the gritty, duracrete floor of a strange room. It took her a minute or two of concentration, but she was able to coax her eyes to crack open so that she could take a look around. Wherever she was, it was black as space and just as quiet, except after a few moments she could hear the faint hum of distant machinery. There was a cold press of metal against her wrists, and she realized that her hands were bound with a set of cuffs. The air was musty.

I'm not on Orea any more, that's for sure.

A tendril of probing Force energy around her brought the realization that she was also not on a ship; she could sense the cold, ancient press of mountains nearby. Since she had no idea how long she'd been unconscious, she had no clue where she might be. She squinted in the darkness, curiosity competing with fear as she listened to the mechanical sounds that were far away. But where am I? What happened? Her thoughts returned to Captain Dodge and his men and she hoped they were okay. Master Tallis as well...though I doubt she even knows I'm gone.

That was not a helpful thought, so she tried to forget it for the time being and focus on more practical matters. What would Master Yoda tell me to do? Probably meditate some more. Somehow, I don't think that's going to help. She sighed, but was able to straighten up and take a deep breath while she tried to quiet her thoughts. However, she was interrupted by the sound of footsteps beyond the door: strange, gliding ones whose like she had never heard. Instinctively she backed up into the farthest corner, keeping her eyes on the source of the noise and on the crack of light that was emerging from the opening door, even as her heart was starting to race.

The light stretched to reveal a slender silhouette that regarded her from the doorway. Beside it, she could make out the shapes of several droids. The silhouette spoke in a smooth, melodious voice that made her quiver with an unnamed fear. "It's awake at last. Bring it to the extraction chamber."

That doesn't sound good at all. Zara winced as the droids entered the room, noting that they were not ordinary medical-droids; they looked stronger and more solid, with actual "arms" rather than attachments for tools. She tried not to whimper even though she could almost taste the alkaline edge of her own fear.

The droids' grip left no room for escape and she struggled to keep her feet moving of their own volition, disliking the idea of being dragged. They took her out of her cell and down a long, dimly-lit corridor. On the way they passed several rooms with closed doors and she thought that she detected a hint of other consciousnesses, but couldn't be sure. Ahead of her walked a being that she now recognized as a Kaminoan, his gait smooth and untroubled.

It felt like they traveled through one long hallway which curved slightly to the left at an upwards angle and seemed to go on forever. Finally, Zara was brought to a small room with a single table; the droids set her on top of it and held her in place, but she was really too frightened to do much besides tremble as the Kaminoan retrieved something from a nearby cabinet. He – she could see the crest on his head that indicated his gender – stepped to her and set a device against the skin of her neck. There was a faint prick of pain but it wasn't much, and she realized that he was extracting a sample of her blood.

Her shoulders relaxed marginally and she turned her gaze up to the Kaminoan, who ignored her. "Where am I?"

Large gray eyes remained fixed on the device in his hand, but he said nothing.

She frowned and spoke again, fighting to keep the waver from her voice. "Why did you take me? What are you going to do with me? Where is this place?"

Though she couldn't sense the Kaminoan through the Force, his emotions were almost tangible with her senses. Her lekku curled at their tips when he emanated annoyance, more so when she realized that it was directed at her. But he still remained silent. Finally he removed the device and took the blood sample away; she felt a bit dizzy and blinked her large eyes – a reflex when she was tired – as she swayed on the table. The Kaminoan glanced at the droids.

"Take her back, for now."

Metallic grips tightened against her arms once more; Zara tried to walk but her legs refused to move this time, so she allowed herself to be carried. When they set her back down in the chamber, all she saw was more blackness, but she couldn't tell if it was the darkened room or her own unconsciousness.

The bolt of energy singed his wrist, leaving a small but painful reminder that he still had a long way to go before he became truly proficient with the elegant weapon in his grip; Stonewall tried to relax and clear his thoughts as he listened for the tell-tale whirring of the practice droid, refusing to divert any energy to wish that he wasn't wearing a blindfold. Instead, he stretched out his awareness and concentrated – not on the spherical device that was hovering before him – but on the quiet hiss of displaced air as it shifted.

Until...

Fierfek. That blasted thing stings worse each time. Maybe I should put my armor back on. For greater freedom of movement, he was wearing only his off-duty tunic and pants, and the saber hilt hummed in his hand; he tried to force himself to relax again while he tried to sense where the droid had gone.

"Don't think about it so hard, Stone." Kali's voice sounded to his right. He could picture her seated atop one of the storage crates in the cargo hold of the Wayfarer where they'd taken to holding his training sessions when the squad was on the move. "Let the Force guide your actions, instead of your brain."

"Easier said than done."

He could discern the smile in her reply. "If it was easy to do, it wouldn't be worth the effort." She fell silent when the droid moved behind him. The clone captain followed the movement without a thought and was able to successfully block the next two bolts, but the third one made stinging contact with his hand. "Ready to call it a night?"

He wasn't, not really, but he'd been at it for hours and he could tell that he was growing fatigued. "Sure." He deactivated the blue blade, slid the blindfold off of his eyes and called the practice droid to his palm while she rose from her place along the wall to approach him. "I didn't know it would be so hard." It's been over a year since I started being able to use the Force...I feel like I should have a much stronger grasp on everything. Stonewall sighed and looked at the hilt of the weapon: Kalinda had made it while she was just a Padawan and had passed it to him, as she used her old master's blade.

As she stood before him, Kali lifted the practice droid from his grip and sent it to its place in a small shelf at the side of the room, after which she reached for the hilt and clipped it to his belt. Finally she wrapped her arms around his torso and looked up at him. "It is hard, Stone. But you're doing so well. It took me years to get to where you are, and I've been training with a lightsaber about as long as I can remember." She gave him a warm smile. "You're a fast learner."

"It doesn't feel like it. I'm not used to struggling with anything like this." At her eye-roll he chuckled. "It's true. On Kamino we were drilled pretty much from day one with all types of weapons; but nothing like this. Not even close."

In response, Kali reached up to kiss him and for a few heartbeats they were lost to each other. The action brought on a renewed thrum of Force-energy that he could almost see in the air around them, filling him with strength and happiness, especially when he pulled her as close as he could. When they parted she gave him another, quiet smile. "You're right, Stone. It's different. But I know you; soon it'll feel like you were born with a lightsaber in your hand. You're already almost able to beat me just straight sparring."

It was true; if she didn't access the Force to give her a preternatural sense of his actions, he could almost best her. Almost. They'd had quite a few interesting sparring sessions, actually. He grinned and smoothed back her hair from her face, pulling the dark strands loose from her braid as he did so. "Care to try some sparring again?"

With the words he sent her a tendril of Force-energy that made her cheeks flame, and she returned the sensation in kind. Definitely the best part about the whole mystical-energy thing. He could feel her heartbeat increasing through the soft fabric of her shirt and a thrill of desire shot through him as he kissed her again.

When Kali returned the energy she murmured his name, causing his fingertips to start aching. Soon they were leaning against the bulkhead, lost in another kiss, and his better sense told him that they should make their way to the cabin they shared if things were to continue in this fashion.

However.

"Er...I hate to bother your 'training' session, but we're getting a transmission from the Core." Crest's voice sounded at Stonewall's comlink, effectively ending their embrace. "It's marked urgent."

Kali sighed and they shared a look; while desire lingered in her gaze he could discern the underlying agitation that had become her constant companion of late. She lifted his wrist – her comm was nowhere to be seen – and replied. "Thanks, Crest. We'll be there in a moment." Once the other clone signed off, she gave another sigh and ran her hand through her dark hair, unbound about her shoulders. "Why do I have a bad feeling about this?"

As much as he wanted to share the sentiment, he said nothing; instead, he turned his focus to the cargo hold's entrance, sending all of his concentration to the flick of his wrist as he attempted to open the door. It was more difficult and took longer than he would have liked, but he managed in the end. This Force-business is harder than it looks. I have a whole new respect for Jedi, now. Together they made their way out of the cargo hold and towards the front of the Wayfarer, to where Crest and Traxis were seated at the helm.

"That was fast," Crest said, activating the small holo-projector at the console of the ship. "Guess the Force helps with the whole 'getting dressed on the fly' part...ow!" He yelped as Traxis reached out to cuff his ear.

"Just shut up about it, will you? You act like you're a kid...for kriff's sake. It's none of our concern if they want to...er..." The scarred clone faltered even as he turned back to the navacomputer. "Never mind."

Crest raised his brows. "Who's acting like a kid, now? At least I keep the lines of communication open and make sure we all have a dialog."

"I'll give you a dialog."

"I'm proud of you both for being so mature, really," Stonewall said, effectively silencing the other clones. "But can you please shut up for two seconds?"

"Copy that, Captain. Sir." Crest's tone was deadpan and Stonewall shot him a look, sighing when the bald clone flashed him a wide grin.

The recorded image that bloomed from the transmitter was familiar, and the Jedi straightened in her place as she watched Obi-Wan Kenobi's form appear before her. "Kalinda: a situation has arisen that needs your immediate attention. You may know that your former apprentice, Honi Tallis, has recently taken a Padawan of her own, a young Nautolan girl named Zara Karell. Yesterday, Zara was taken from Knight Tallis' base on Orea. You and your men are the closest available Republic force; you are to to rendezvous with Honi at Orea and investigate the matter."

Here he took a breath and Stonewall could make out the other man's tension even through the small, flickering hologram. Kenobi looked tired; the wars had not been going well and the Jedi were being stretched thinner and thinner as the fighting only seemed to grow worse. Things can only keep going on like this for so long...what will happen once they reach the breaking point, I wonder?

The transmission continued. "I would ask that you reply directly to me, but I fear I may not be available...I'm being called away even as we speak." He sighed again, the sound muffled by the recording. "Thank you, Kali. I know that you'll do everything in your power to see Zara to safety. Take care. May the Force be with you."

There was silence after the transmission ended; Kalinda seemed to have frozen in place. Stonewall looked at her. "We'll find her, Kali. Traxis, set a course for Orea and see if you can't get a transmission through to General Tallis to let her know that we're on the way. I suppose we'll have to forgo the Alderaanian supplies for now..." He trailed off as she remained motionless, and he sensed her anger as if it were his own, for all that she was fighting to control it.

If the others noticed, they said nothing, while they made to follow his instructions even as he touched Kali's arm; the physical sensation seemed to draw her out of her reverie, though emotion was still latent in her eyes. "We'll get her back," he said again, pitching his voice low as they moved away from the helm, towards the common area in the center of the ship. "I promise you."

"I know..." Her eyes closed and she looked to be on the verge of speaking for all that she kept silent for the time being. Finally she looked at him and replied. I know that things are bleak right now, but there is no excuse for sending a child to war. Even as a Jedi...why was Zara involved in such a thing?

War makes everything move faster, he replied. It's not pretty, but sometimes it's necessary.

Kali shook her head. Children shouldn't be involved in something like this. Even as she replied he could tell that her thoughts were still on the clone cadets. I don't understand how we've come to this point.

I wish I had answers, but...

I know, Stone. They studied each other for a minute before she leaned into him; despite her sorrow, he welcomed her touch and tried to savor each embrace as if it would be their last. There's so much I don't understand, I suppose.

At this he gave a helpless laugh and tightened his arms around her as they both turned to watch the Wayfarer's progress through the stars. You and me both, Kali'ka.

Weave was glad for the few moments that he had to himself in the cabin that he shared with Milo, even though his brother was not unpleasant company. I just don't like having my face exposed in front of anyone, even after all these months. It was hard enough in front of Kalinda, when he could detect compassion in her eyes as she looked at him. But there was pity as well, which he didn't care for. Not that I blame her; I'm pretty pitiful right now. But still. Somehow – he still wasn't sure how – she'd managed to finagle him out of experiencing any in-depth examinations at the hands of the GAR doctors, a fact for which he was grateful. I don't know if I can ever look at an exam table again without losing my mind.

He leaned forward to the small mirror that he'd attached to his workstation beside his bunk, examining the implant. If I could only figure out how exactly this thing works, I might be able to do something about it. But his knowledge of cybernetics was still limited, despite countless hours of study since his time in the hands of Creon Dai. Despite being an amoral shabuir, that long-neck is kriffing brilliant. Indeed, the only useful thing that all of his study had revealed was that nothing in the cybernetic field came close to being this advanced, and Weave wasn't sure if that was a comfort or not.

Probably not. Though I guess if I'm going to be a cyborg it's nice to know I'm a highly-advanced one.

Besides being waterproof, he knew that the implant was somehow linked to his brain and that he could control it – to a degree – with eye movements similar to those he used for his HUD. It's possible I could link up the two...if I only understood how it worked. I almost wish I could talk to Creon just to figure this thing out, right before Traxis wrings his neck. The webbing of metal and wires was so intricate it may as well have been lacework, interspersed with small lights that indicated if the unit was functioning properly. Milo had told him that the lights never really ceased, even when he slept.

Weave frowned and leaned back. For the first few weeks his vision had been strange, as initially he could not figure out how to distinguish the sensory readouts that the implant could present from his normal vision; however, after some trial and error he'd learned how to effectively 'hide' the images that the implant could call up so that he could rely on the HUD of his bucket or use his own eyes that were both – thankfully – still there.

I'm lucky, I guess. Luckier than poor Chip, or those kids he took. At this thought, he shuddered. Like Kalinda, he was determined to find them, though he was not as optimistic as she was, particularly when it came to what might be left of them once Creon had his way. I don't know of words in any language that are enough to describe him...I guess 'monster' works. Anyone who acts with such a blatant disregard for life deserves nothing more than a shot in the head and to be tossed in a shallow grave.

He sighed and resisted the urge to rub his brow, as the feel of the implant against his skin was still unsettling. The angry thoughts were unlike him and he realized that he was sinking deeper and deeper into self-pity such that it was getting difficult to see any light above his head. I can't help it, though. I should be able to deal with it...but I can't. I feel like I'm completely alone in all this, despite the others. His shoulders tightened, then sagged.

To distract himself from his own thoughts, Weave glanced around the room to see where he'd left the datapad that Milo had salvaged from Perdax; once he had it in his hands he began scrolling through it – again. There were uneven, strange rows of numbers that he'd thought might have been coordinates, but nothing made sense when he plugged them into the navacomputer. At one point he'd even entertained the notion that they were a code of some kind, but that turned out not to be the case. Kalinda had even run the numbers through the Jedi Archives' vast database and nothing had turned up. After a few moments of careful scrolling he gave a sigh of irritation and tossed the 'pad to the ground with a clatter.

Useless garbage. He caught his own reflection in the mirror and shuddered. Self included.

A bit of exposition in this chapter, with a healthy dose of angst...does anyone want to give Weave a hug? I think he could use one.

Read, enjoy, review...please! :)