[Last Of The Jedi] - 04(11)

It was in the very outskirts of the Orange District. The district had received its nickname when its inhabitants had continually changed the glowlights to orange, despite the efforts of Coruscant Utilities to keep the clear white glow intended to discourage crime. Those in the Orange District didn’t care much about crime. They preferred the dim glow of privacy.

It had been only a few days since Trever had first been here with Ferus, searching for Dexter Jettster and hoping he could give them information on a missing Jedi. It seemed like a lifetime ago now.

Oryon led them down a narrow alleyway under the eerie orange light. The buildings here were smoothly rounded at the corners and no higher than ten or twelve stories, unusual on Coruscant. They gave the impression of gentle hills if you squinted hard, but if you really looked you realized that the lack of windows made them creepy. Trever could see the slits in the walls that served as lookouts. He felt the strong sensation of being watched.

Every time he thought they had come to the end of the alley, it turned another way or doubled back on itself. The buildings seemed to hang over them closer and closer as they walked.

On Coruscant you grew used to the constant noise, the hum of speeders and conversations and the whirr of airbuses. The quiet here was unnerving. They could hear their footsteps and their breathing. Oryon stopped in front of a dwelling identical to all the others they had passed. He hesitated outside the door. Trever was about to ask why when he realized that Oryon was allowing whoever was inside to see him clearly, as well as his companions. Then he walked forward and punched in a code at the door. It slid open almost immediately.

They entered a hallway lit dimly by powered-down glowlights. A ramp led to an upper level; Oryon climbed it, motioning them to follow. He walked down another hallway, this one wider, but with an odd combination of clinical and military objects. A durasteel cart rested against one wall and a pile of weapons was neatly arranged in a rack. A shelf of medicines rested on a tray. Trever didn’t know if he was in a hospital or a barracks.

Oryon accessed a door midway down the hall. Dexter Jettster sat on a chair that was reinforced to accommodate his bulk. Against one wall was a sole bare table. The far, opposite wall was entirely filled up with security screens. In a glance Trever could see that they effectively covered the entire alleyway, the roof, the houses next door, the sky above, and the entrance to the alley, at least two kilometers away.

Dexter raised himself from the chair and lowered his head, tilting it toward them in a way that Trever remembered from his last meeting. It signaled Dex’s surrender to deep emotion.

“Glad to see you.” He nodded at Solace. “Happy to see you survived.” He scanned them. “But not all of you made it back.”

Oryon spoke first. “We know Rhya and Hume are dead. Gully and Spence - we believe so. And Curran as well.”

Dex shook his head. “No, no, not the wily Curran. He’s not dead.”

“I’m sorry,” Oryon said. “It’s impossible that he could have survived -“

“Impossible? No. Improbable, yes. He’s here - a little the worse for wear, mind you. He stole an Imperial speeder and met a wall with some force, but he’ll do just fine. Looked a bit like Keets there when he arrived. Come on then. I have a med center, if you can call it that. A med droid to take care Keets, and food for everyone.”

Dex led them to a blank wall and waved his hand over a portion of it. The wall slid back.

Curran sat up in a med pod while a droid checked his vitals. His furred face lit up when he saw them. “Keets! I saw you hit.”

“They can hit me, but they can’t kill me,” Keets replied.

The med droid rolled closer, its sensors blinking. “Weak vitals. Sit on pod.”

Keets moved to a pod next to Curran and sat. “Gladly.”

“We’ll leave you to it,” Dex said. “If you’re cleared to join us, we’ll be in the galley.”

“I’ll be cleared,” Keets promised.

“Negative, vitals too weak,” the droid said.

“I’ll be cleared, you clanking heartless hunk of sensors,” Keets said. “Now fix me up, quick.” He lay back and closed his eyes, finally giving in to the exhaustion and the pain.

After they got to the hallway, Dex chuckled. “He looks half-dead, that Keets, but I wager he’ll be up and about in no time. Now come this way. I’ve been cooking up my special relish, and I can still dish up some sliders.”

Trever pushed away his third helping. Dex had insisted that they not discuss what was happening while they ate, and although it had been hard for all of them, they’d managed to eat something without their stomachs churning. Trever was still worried about Ferus, furious and scared, but at least he’d managed to eat. Dex had regaled them with stories during their meal, stories about the street they were living on. It was called Thugger’s Alley, using sublevel Coruscant slang for lowlifes and thieves. Nobody on the outside was quite sure who lived there; mostly they kept their distance.