Jumping backward in time, just a little...watch the dates.

Chapter Eighteen: The Breaking Point

1086 days ABG

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

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

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

Stonewall decided to prove him wrong.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

As he lifted his eyes to the Jedi, the elder man gave him a sad smile that indicated he knew precisely what was coming. "Yes?"

Rather than let Altis' prescience bother him, Stonewall sighed and released his anger in a puff of air. "Have you ever had a...a dream that came true, sir?" Even as he spoke the words they sounded hollow, but the Jedi nodded as though he'd been asked the meaning of life itself; the movement of his head was heavy as he considered.

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

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

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

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

The Jedi Master stood and waited.

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

"And?"

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

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

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

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

This isn't really helping. "And what do you think, sir?"

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

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

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

1088 days ABG

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I didn't ask, Ares, they offered." He grinned, his former attitude forgotten in the next instant. "And how can anyone say 'no' to those adorable faces?"

The Twi'lek rolled his eyes and handed the bald clone the tray of food before turning to Traxis and Weave, the former of whom was reluctant to meet his gaze. "I asked you both to keep an eye on him."

"It's a full-time job," Weave replied with a sigh. "And unfortunately, there's a lot on my mind at the moment." He gestured to the radio and Ares nodded.

"I've been keeping up with it as well. It sounds like the war is about to be over, even though it feels like everything's getting worse and worse – as far as the fighting goes, I mean." After a moment he looked at Traxis with a thoughtful expression. "Do you...I mean, how do you know if one of your brothers...?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

1089 days ABG

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

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

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

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

Slowly.

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

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

Thwack.

Stonewall winced.

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

"Sir?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Execute Order 66."

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

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

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

But he still had to know if she was safe.

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

Kali?

Kalinda?

Nothing.

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

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

One word: Milo?

Then, nothing.

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

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

I was not a slacker this week, so there will be a new "Misadventure" up tomorrow - check it out!

Have a great weekend!