[Last Of The Jedi] - 04(4)

When he and Solace had returned from the disaster at the Jedi Temple, Solace had heard the battle before he did. She had leaped off the ship and straight into the thick of it.

He had seen battles before, but none like this. He had run from Imperial officers, he had broken into buildings, he had taken the risks needed to maintain his own black-market operation, but this was different. This was terrifying. The eerily white stormtroopers were bent on annihilating everything in their path.

He had caught glimpses of Solace, fighting furiously to save her followers. He’d seen her moving, diving, never losing her balance or her grace despite the ferocity of her attack. Her lightsaber was a beacon of light, glowing green through the smoke.

She would lose. She would hold out as long as she could, but she could not win. There were simply too many of them. Almost everybody was dead now. Slaughtered without thought, without pause.

Rhya Taloon was dead. He saw her die. She’d been a Senator once, until they targeted her for prison or worse and she had joined the Erased, the group who’d destroyed their former identities and hid in the lower levels of Coruscant. She had fashioned a new, fierce look for herself, twisting her silver hair into horns and wearing holsters across her body. She’d learned how to shoot a blaster, but she’d never been very good at it.

He and Ferus had traveled down here with other members of the Erased, but now they were dead, too. It must be so, because all he could see were bodies. Among them lay Hume, who’d once been a pilot in the Republic Army. Gilly and Spence, the brothers who hardly spoke. Oryon, the fierce Bothan who’d been a spy for the Republic during the Clone Wars. Curran Caladian, the young Svivreni who’d once been a Senatorial aide, had leaped to defend the houses in the central catwalk. Trever had seen the stormtroopers send flame grenades into the homes and had turned away.

And Keets Freely, the journalist. Trever had seen his body, bloodied and battered, as he and Solace had run up to investigate. He couldn’t believe it, couldn’t believe that the mocking, indestructible Keets could fall. But fall he did, from a platform above, landing at Trever’s feet. That had been the beginning of Trever’s true terror.

In the short time he’d been traveling with them, they’d all become his friends. And now he didn’t know what to do or where to go, because he was sure that this was the day he would die.

A new voice rose in his mind, not a voice of fear but impatience.

Well, if you’re going to die, show some guts, will you?

He slowly, painstakingly, raised his head, ready for it to be blown off at any moment.

The battle had moved to an upper level of the catwalks and landings that twisted so crazily below the cavern walls. But there wasn’t much battle left. He saw a few holdouts, but they were surrounded and soon would be dead. He wrenched his gaze away. He couldn’t watch anymore, couldn’t bear it anymore… .

Suddenly a streak through the smoke made him raise his head. Solace had made an incredible leap, jumping down from the topmost catwalk to the one just above Trever’s head. Stormtroopers were pouring down the ramps after her. In another few moments they would corner her.

And he was here, hiding like a coward.

He had to help her, and do it fast. But how?

Stop hiding, Trever. That would be a start.

He snaked behind the other speeders and was able to get a better look above.

The stormtrooper guarding the speeders turned away from the noise of battle to take a communication - he could see him speaking into his helmet, straining to hear over the noise - and Trever leaped closer to the stairs that led to the next level. He landed behind a smoking heap of twisted metal that had once been a house. He slammed into a body and nearly levitated out of the space in terror until a strong hand clamped on his leg.

“Don’t move.”

It was Oryon, the Bothan. His face was blackened with smoke, his long mane a tangled mass. His tunic was torn and a long scratch ran down his upper arm. His eyes were reddened from the acrid smoke. He was the fiercest thing Trever had ever seen.

“Solace is -” Trever panted.

“I know. Do you have any charges left?”

Trever nodded, ashamed. He had been too afraid to set off many of his charges. He had hidden instead.

“I’ve got some grenades,” Oryon said. “It might be enough.”

“What are we going to do?”

“Blow the whole platform.”

“But she’ll fall.”

“She’s a Jedi. She’ll survive. But they won’t.”

“Uh, and what about . .” Trever gulped. “Us?”

“We’ll do it from below, then get back to this platform.”