Hmm, even when I end a story, along comes another epilogue - just demanding to be written.

Epilogue 7

Barriss stepped into the blind ward softly. There were only four men and, of the four, only one raised his head in recognition of her footsteps.

"Commander Barriss?" he asked softly, with a tentative smile. His head tilted as he listened. Then, as he looked in her direction; as he looked at her.

"Hello, Tiess. I came to see how you were; what kind of progress you were making." She'd come at the instigation of one of Ahsoka's men to make sure her handiwork was as good as she thought it had been.

He smiled widely and she knew. "Green-marked, then?" she asked and she drew nearer to his cot. She noticed the other men turned away from them, giving them as much privacy as they could give.

"Yes, sir." he replied, his Force signature overlaid with a blaze of sheer, unadulterated pleasure. "Full color, excellent peripheral, perfect vision, perfect adaptation speed." He grinned, "And I even like the color."

"What?" Barriss leaned closer in startled curiosity.

"Here, look." Gently he bent his head and carefully removed the bacta patches from his eyes. He looked at her with blue eyes, startlingly familiar. Slowly a smile appeared on her face, she blushed a soft jade.

"When I was healing you, I used my eyes as a template for the cells." she paused. "I was only thinking about vision, not aesthetics."

"Commander," he was serious now, earnest. "I can see. I can go on to my re-assignment. I am, once again, a trooper, a whole man. You returned that to me. Pardon my saying so, but aesthetics be damned." He shrugged. "Besides, I do like having blue eyes. Sets me a little different." The corners of his mouth upturned.

"Aesthetics, as you say, be damned." she smiled. "I am pleased that I could be of assistance. Very pleased that it worked so well." Softly she placed her hand on his arm, a touch of comfort, of camaraderie. He froze, then softly touched her slender fingers with his larger ones, fingers made for a blaster, for war. They were surprisingly gentle.

"Thank you, sir. Thank you." His voice was low and as gentle as his fingers. His fingers moved away from hers. She let her hand drop softly from his arm and glanced around the room in slight embarrassment.

"He's yellow-marked." Tiess spoke softly and gestured his head toward a man. "The other two are green."

Barriss looked at the man, his back to her. There was an edge of tenseness in his shoulders, the uncertainty of not knowing. She nodded.

"Did you say re-assignment, Tiess?" she asked, conversationally.

It was his turn to blush. "41st Elite, sir. I come on-board in a couple of hours."