Chapter Seven: One Way Or Another

"Where should we go first?" Crest asked as he and his brothers stepped out into the night after their journey down the palace stairs.

Weave glanced at the map he'd pulled up on his datapad and frowned as he considered. "Well, if we're looking for information, the best place to start would probably be the largest concentration of citizens...I say we try the main marketplace." He pointed the direction and the clones began to walk, necks craning as they took in the sights and sounds of the city.

Milo inhaled deeply before gazing at a food vendor whose wares elicited the enticing smell. "I'm glad we ate already, otherwise we'd spend all those credits that the general gave us on a meal."

"I could eat again," Crest replied as he watched a young couple purchasing several thick, delicious-looking pastries. He glanced at Traxis, who had remained silent since they'd left the palace. "What about you?"

"Let's just get this over with," the scarred clone said. "The sooner we figure this mess out, the sooner we can get off this rock." They made their way to the market, which, according to Weave, was about three miles from their location, though the press of people would make it difficult to reach in a timely fashion.

Or at least it should have, but for the fact that people in the crowd drew back the moment the clones came in sight; men and women cringed and refused to meet their eyes, children hid behind their parents' legs and business owners turned their gazes away. Funny, Crest thought as he nodded to another merchant and watched as she looked the other direction. I didn't think we were that ugly.

Beside him, Milo leaned towards Crest and spoke in his ear, since they were not wearing their helmets. "Why is everyone acting like we're contagious?"

"Maybe you should have taken a shower before we left."

Weave looked back at them. "It must be the armor. We have a tendency to stand out."

Traxis muttered something in Mando'a that made Milo's mouth drop open. "That's a horrible thing to say...what would even make you think that?" By now they had reached the market and there was still a pocket of open space around them as the Arunai refused to come closer than a few meters.

After they looked around for a moment, Weave reached into his belt and pulled out a few creds. "Let's test the theory before we jump to conclusion."

The clones approached the nearest vendor, a woman selling some kind of meat-on-a-stick that smelled amazing. However, the moment the clones reached her stall, she shook her head and backed away, shouting something in Arunai that Crest didn't need a droid to translate, especially since the words were accompanied with a shooing gesture of her hands. They tried another vendor, an elderly man whose booth contained heaps of strange, colored powder – some kind of art supplies, Crest figured – and were met with the same reaction.

After three more attempts, each with the same result, the clones stood to one side of the market, casting furtive looks at the bustling place behind them. "What are we going to do?" Milo asked. "How are we supposed to find out anything if no one will talk to us?"

Weave ran his hand over his head as he thought. "I'm not sure. Maybe if we removed our armor, tried to dress like natives..."

Crest was only half-listening, as his gaze had fallen on a group of three people, two men and a woman who were crossing the center of the market; the other Arunai's reaction to them was much the same as it had been for himself and his brothers. However, the group did not seem particularly bothered by the cringes and hasty movements of the "regular folk" as they were engrossed in their own conversation. He watched as they passed by the clones and then made their way into a nearby alley only to pause before a garbage bin.

The elder of the two men stood by while the other two began to poke around in the garbage, clearly looking for something. His long white hair braided neatly down his back and he was dressed in a tattered but clean robe of bright green; his younger companions were clothed in a similar fashion.

On a whim, Crest left his brothers and made his way to the trio, holding his palms out in a gesture of openness. At his approach, the younger man and woman froze and looked up, their light eyes wary as they took him in though they did not step away; the elder man's gaze, however, was milky-white and sightless, his face turning towards the sound of the stranger's approach.

Crest recalled what bits of intel he'd read. Most of them also speak Basic. May as well give it a shot. He looked from one to the other and gave his most polite smile. "Hello, sirs, m'am. How are you doing this fine evening?"

None of them replied but they also did not turn away, which Crest took to be as a good sign. Though they remained in place, his brothers had tracked his movements and he could almost feel their awareness on the group of Arunai. The bald clone cleared his throat and smiled again. "I'm Crest," he said, putting a hand on his chest-plate. "These are my brothers: Weave, Traxis and Milo." As he mentioned their names, they each stepped forward and nodded. "We're new here," he continued. "And we're not familiar with all of your customs...do you know if there's any reason why no one will talk to us?" He knew that he was probably pushing his luck, but it was really the only question that came to his mind at the moment.

As he spoke, the elder man appeared to be regarding him, though he and his companions were still silent. Crest glanced at Weave, who gave him a look that said, it was your idea, you deal with it; Milo shrugged and Traxis simply glowered and crossed his arms. The bald clone looked back at the Arunai. "I'm sorry if I've offended you in some way," he said, feeling a thrill of nervousness pass through him. "But my brothers and I-"

"Untouchable." When he spoke, the older man's voice was surprisingly smooth. "That's why no one will meet your eyes, son. You are considered untouchable."

Behind him, Crest heard Traxis snort and mutter. "Figures."

"So, they think we're lepers?" Milo asked, his brow furrowing.

The younger man shook his head and said something in Arunai to the elder, before raising his eyebrow and looking back at the clones. "You said that you are...brothers?" His tone was skeptical, much as the young queen's had been.

"Sort of," Crest replied. "It's complicated..."

"They're those cloned Republic soldiers that came with the Jedi," the woman said suddenly. "To help the Queen."

"That's us," Crest said with a salute and a grin. "At your service...?"

"I'm Kesin," the older man said, laying a gnarled hand on his chest. "This is my daughter Danu and her husband, Marut." He gave a slight bow, which the others mimicked. "Tell me, are you hungry?"

"Er..." Crest glanced at the others, who were still watching him. "Sure...but we don't want to impose...I mean..." he gestured to the garbage bin.

Kesin smiled, his teeth glinting brightly in the darkness. "We were not looking for our dinner, Crest, but it is always a good idea to search through the castoffs of others; you never know what treasures you may come across." He moved his hand, indicating the alley behind them. "Come. I find that I am curious about you and your brothers and I can tell that you have more questions about Aruna as well." The clones looked at one another; as if sensing their hesitation, Kesin chuckled. "Don't worry; we mean you no harm."

The woman – Danu – cast a wary look at her father. "Are you sure...? They're soldiers." Next to his wife, Marut nodded, but Kesin shook his head.

"They are strangers in our home, Danu," he replied. "Let's not prove ourselves as ungracious as the others have obviously been. Come," he said again to Crest. "I would like to hear more about you." Without another word the elder man turned to step down the darkened alley, his white hair gleaming in the night; after another glance at the clones, Danu and Marut followed.

Crest looked at his brothers. "Well? Think we can handle it?"

Traxis rolled his eyes. "Are you seriously asking that? They're civilians, Crest. I think we're good."

"I could eat again," Milo added. They all looked to Weave – technically the ranking member of the group – as his comm began to chirp.

"Captain?" Weave asked as Stonewall's image bloomed before him in the darkness.

"What's happening at your end?"

Weave glanced at Crest and cleared his throat. "Hard contact. Should be fine; I'll check in later, if that's okay."

Stonewall nodded, though his face looked pensive. I guess the dinner didn't go well, Crest thought. Too bad I wasn't there to lighten the mood.

"Right." Abruptly, the image faded and Weave gave a sigh.

"Guess we're going to meet some locals after all."

Dinner stretched on for hours, or so it felt to Kalinda as she fielded questions from Sita, tried to decipher the signals that Obi-Wan was possibly sending her, and attempted to make sure that Stone was not really as uncomfortable as he looked. She was certain that she was failing at all of those things, – especially the latter – as the clone captain kept his eyes on his plate the entire time. Thankfully, Sita noticed Kali's discomfort during the parts of conversation that were centered on her and Obi-Wan's former relationship and the talk soon turned to other topics.

At one point, as Sita was speaking to one of the servants, Obi-Wan looked at her, gesturing to the glass of water that she'd nearly choked on. "Are you certain you've recovered?" His tone was warm and she found her heartbeat pick up a beat or two despite herself. She nodded, but said nothing and sipped from her glass once more.

When dinner ended at last, Sita bowed to them and wished the Jedi goodnight while only glancing at Stonewall. As she slipped out of the room, Obi-Wan looked at her. "May we speak now?"

Kali nodded and turned to Stone. "Will you please check on the others? I'm curious to know what they've learned."

"Of course, General." She watched him leave before looking back at Obi-Wan, who gestured that they should walk. They made their way through the palace and went outside on the balcony that overlooked the city, pausing before the railing as he spoke.

"I'm not entirely sure how to begin," he said, his brow furrowed. "You are aware that the captain has feelings for you, I assume?"

She was silent.

Obi-Wan sighed. "It's not a surprise, all things considered, but I have to say, I'm a bit...taken aback at the way you seem to feel about him."

"And how is that?" She was careful to keep her eyes on the city even as he looked at her.

"I've seen your face when you look at him, Kali. It's an expression I know very well."

As well you should. Her hands were resting on the ledge and it was an effort to keep them flat and still against the cool stone."Are you going to lecture me on the dangers of attachment?"

At this, Obi-Wan frowned and shook his head. "Even if you've shut me out of your mind...I know you, Kali. The two of you...it just caught me off guard," he added, leaning forward. "But what connection do you have? What can he offer you that-" He checked himself. "Not that you owe me any kind of explanation," he went on after a pause. "But I can't tell if you're thinking clearly about the situation that you're in and I'm...concerned for you."

This was enough to draw her gaze from the cityscape as she glared at him. "Concerned for me?" She shook her head. "You gave up any and all right to worry about me a long time ago, Obi-Wan."

"Kalinda, you're my oldest friend," he replied. "I'll always be...mindful of you." There was a pause and he sighed again. "He cares for you a great deal."

"I know." Her voice was soft as she looked back over the city. "I know he does."

"Do you?"

"Do I what?"

Obi-Wan was quiet for a moment. "Care for him?"

"What difference does it make?" she replied, her eyes still fixed on the distant horizon. "What possible difference could it make to you, Obi-Wan?" Rather than allow him to reply, she continued to keep her gaze away, though her hands were gripping the ledge with white knuckles. "As I said, it's none of your concern. Not anymore."

"Kali-"

"Good night, Obi-Wan." She turned to leave, striding away while trying to push aside the biting anger that had flared within her at the gentleness of his tone and at the warmth in his eyes when he looked at her. This isn't happening, she thought as she moved through the palace, her steps automatically carrying her towards the garden. I can't believe that he cares about me in that way any longer, or that he's trying to act like he has any say – any say at all – in how I spend my time or who I spend it with. Her cheeks were hot and her fists were clenched beneath her robes; so engrossed was she in her own thoughts she nearly ran headlong into Stonewall.

"Are you okay?"

Though quiet, his voice jolted her out of her reverie. "Not really," she replied. "But it doesn't matter...did you get a hold of the others?"

The clone captain's head tilted to one side as he regarded her. "I think they've met some locals, but Weave couldn't talk; he's going to call me back." He paused. "Did I actually startle you?"

At this she frowned. That's strange...I didn't sense him at all. "I guess you did; I'm a little preoccupied right now," she replied. Stone nodded, though he ran his hand through his close-shaved hair, his feet shuffling as she studied him. "Are you okay? I know that this hasn't exactly been a pleasant evening, but you've been acting a little...off lately. Since before we left, even."

His shoulders lifted and sank as he took a deep breath. "Now that we're both here...will you please walk with me for a second?"

Kali nodded and followed him through the garden, to the spot where she had led him earlier; this time he sat on the small marble bench indicating that she should take the place beside him. As she did, she tried to reach out to him through the Force, but – as before, when she had tried to get a feel for the city – it was almost a vain effort. He was nervous, that much she could tell, but she could pick up almost nothing beyond the obvious.

The soft clearing of his throat made her realize that she'd been staring off into space. "Kali," he said, taking her hands in his own. "You're right. I have been nervous lately, but it doesn't have anything to do with the mission – for once." They shared a brief smile and he continued, though it was after a deep inhale. "I know that we haven't known each other so long, in the grand scheme of things," he said, meeting her eyes. "But I think..." he frowned and shook his head. "I know that..." Another deep breath and she felt blood rushing to her ears as his honey-brown eyes focused on hers.

"Kalinda, what I'm trying to say is that I love you."

The words hung in the air between them for several seconds but they were only accompanied by a thick silence.

After a moment she felt him squeeze her hands. "Kali?"

Suddenly her heart was racing; her breath was short, her vision blurred and she felt as though she were trapped inside a very tiny room with no windows. A swell of anxiety filled the cavity of her chest. Abruptly she stood, the cool air rushing to her palms where his hands had been. "Stone...you know I care about you..." She found that she couldn't look at him, so she looked at her own hands, which were trembling. Her fists balled. "I really do..."

"But you don't love me." The words were spoken without emotion, but she didn't need the Force to tell her that he was stricken. At that moment she would have almost preferred anything – even anger – to the blank but piercing sorrow that was written across his face.

Her mouth opened but no sound came out and he nodded to himself. "Okay," he said as he stood up. "I...I need to check on the others. Goodnight, General." There was no trace of warmth in his words as he slipped away from her and faded into the night.

Kali tried to reach out to him through the Force. She was met with a blank wall and the hollow thud of her own heartbeat.

Wow...this was a really difficult chapter to write. I need a hug. Actually, I think Stone needs one too. And Obi-Wan...and Kali. :P