[Last Of The Jedi] - 04(12)

Dex, however, knew who lived here. Some lowlifes, surely, he said with a chuckle, but more of those like the Erased, those who despised what the Emperor represented and declined to live under his rules. So they set up elaborate security and so far the Empire had left them alone.

“Of course we can’t fight them,” Dex said. “But we’ll see them corning.”

“I wish I could say the same,” Solace said.

“Now, enough of that,” Dex said kindly. “No looking back, isn’t that the Jedi way?”

“Something like that,” she replied. Her gaze was remote.

“Hrrun . what’s next to do, then? You don’t know where they took Ferus?”

“Just that he was arrested.” Trever felt his stomach lurch. He shouldn’t have eaten all those sliders after all. They felt sour in his stomach now.

One of Dex’s four hands came down on his shoulder with surprising gentleness. “There isn’t a place in the galaxy we can’t find him, so don’t you worry.”

“That’s right,” Solace said. “We’ll start with likely prisons and move out from there. We’ll need transports; I don’t have a hyperdrive on my ship.”

“Transports we can get for you,” Dex said.

“That’s a random plan,” Trever pointed out. “By the time you find him, he could be executed a dozen times. What we need is information.”

Solace looked at him, startled. She wasn’t used to being questioned, he guessed. But if a plan was stupid, somebody had to say so, in his opinion.

“Do you have a better idea?” she asked, looking down her nose at him.

Trever felt his irritation flare. “Just give me a minute - it won’t be hard.”

“Now hold on here,” Dex said. “Solace, with due respect, Trever is right. If you go from prison to prison, it could take years. The Empire has more prisons than banthas have ticks. What we need is infiltration.”

Trever noticed that Curran and Keets had quietly entered the room. Curran looked stronger, his glossy hair now smoothed and pulled back into the thick metal ring. His small, furred face was alert. Keets had a bacta bandage on his side and winced as he sat down in a chair.

“It’s time for exposure,” Dex said.

He looked at Oryon, Keets, and Curran. “We’ve lost good friends on this day,” he continued. “The other Erased have gone underground again. I have a sweet spot here, and you’re welcome to share it. It’d be safe, I guarantee that, at least until the Empire feels like looking for us. Then we’ll find another. But …” Dex paused. “It’s time to join the fight, my friends. To fight means you have to risk exposure. We need to resurface.”

Curran nodded. “I was thinking the same thing.” “I’ve still got my contacts in the Senate,” Keets said.

“And there are a few even in the Imperial Army officer corps who don’t like where they are,” Oryon added. “They might talk.”

“I’ve got friends I can ask, too,” Dex said. “If we do this, we could attract the notice of the Inquisitors. They’ll come looking, no doubt about that.”

The others nodded. They would accept that risk.

“But why?” Trever asked them. “You hardly know Ferus. You just met him a few days ago.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Dex said. “We’re all soldiers in the same fight now. We’ll risk what we have to for our own.”

Trever looked at Dex gratefully. He knew Ferus would be touched by their help. He only hoped Ferus would live long enough to see it.





CHAPTER EIGHT


That night, Ferus’s cell door slid open and the guards threw a body inside. Ferus sat up, leaning on his elbows. The door slid shut and Clive unfolded himself from his tucked position. He dusted off his dirty prison coveralls.

“I don’t know why they have to do that,” he said.

“How’d you manage it?” Ferus whispered.

“There’s a creepy logic to this regime,” Clive answered in a low tone, settling himself next to Ferus. It had been at least two years since Ferus had last seen him. He was thinner, and his thick black hair was cut close to his head. His blue eyes had dark smudges underneath them. Then again, they all looked older.

“When you rule by fear, everyone is afraid of you,” Clive said, lying back and crossing one ankle over his knee. “This can have its advantages.

Obviously. I mean, they’re in control of the galaxy, right? But it can offer windows of opportunity for fellows like me. Hence. There’s a chap in the data-works section - not an Imperial guy, just a civilian with a job. He had a slight problem with his program, and I saw him sweat. If you mess up on the job here, you get a boot in the face and a transfer to someplace worse. Does that concept boggle the mind or what? So I fixed it for him on the sly. He owed me a favor. This is it.”