“What does this have to do with us?” Clive asked.
“I’ve just learned that she’s on her way to Samaria,” Toma said. “This could be helpful to Ferus. Unfortunately we were cut off and I didn’t get a chance to tell her about him. But a linking of resistance movements could only help any surviving Jedi. They could move about the galaxy, relying on safe havens. They wouldn’t be stuck hiding out on this asteroid.”
“It’s a plan,” Oryon said cautiously. “But the more people know about the Jedi, the more danger it puts them in.”
“We have to worry about the safety of the Jedi we haven’t found yet,” Solace said with a glance at Garen.
“There are only three of you that I know of at the moment,” Clive said. “It’s not as though there’s a Jedi army out there that we need to hide.”
Trever looked at the others. Only a few of them knew that Obi-Wan Kenobi was still alive. It was a secret they all would keep.
Garen gave a small smile. “I’d say two and a half Jedi, actually. I’m not worth much these days.”
“You are worth far more than you realize,” Solace said in the gentlest tone Trever had ever heard her use.
“In any case, Ferus should be aware that Flame is there and will try to make contact with the resistance,” Raina said. “Ferns is there to help them.”
“One of us should go to Samaria,” Oryon said.
“I’ll go,” Solace said.
Oryon shook his head. “You shouldn’t. You’re too conspicuous. You were just there, and the Empire is on the lookout for you. I’ll go.”
“And you’re not conspicuous?” Solace asked.
“I’ll go,” Clive said. “I can’t wait to get off this rock, anyway.”
“Wait a second, if anyone goes, it should be me,” Roan said. “I have the most experience with resistance movements.”
“You just escaped from an Imperial prison,” Oryon said. “You don’t have any ID docs. You can’t go.”
“I can create a false ID doc in no time.”
Toma held up a hand. “This shouldn’t be cause for argument. We need to decide on the best person.”
“I’ve done an atmospheric scan,” Roan said. “The storms will lessen in severity in five hours. A good time to take off. I say we get some rest, then decide.”
The others agreed to this. Everyone headed back to the shelters. Trever walked back slowly. He hadn’t said a word, because he knew the others would disagree.
He should be the one to go.
He was the least conspicuous. Nobody paid attention to kids. He knew resistance movements almost as well as Roan. He was a good pilot and a better fighter. He could be useful. The only reason he hadn’t stayed in the first place was that Ferns had practically kicked him off the planet.
What really bugged him was that nobody worried about Ferus. Everybody just assumed Ferus was okay. They’d left him on a half-built high-rise, hundreds of meters in the air, surrounded by stormtroopers and wicked droids that could cut through a ship’s engine in seconds not to mention Darth Vader waiting below like some mammoth reclumi spider and they thought because he was such a great Jedi hotshot, he’d be fine.
Well, Trever had news for all of them: Ferus wasn’t a Jedi. He had done some amazing things, no question about it. But Trever had also seen how he’d struggled. He’d seen him make mistakes.
Ferus was no match for Darth Vader.
Ferus needed help.
Trever waited until he heard only even breathing around him. He stole out of the shelter and made his way swiftly to the one transport. He sat in the pilot seat, gathering his courage. Trever had made the journey several times, and although he said he was used to it, the truth was that every time he had to fly through the storm, he was a little bit terrified. He was always glad when they made it through.
But he’d seen Ferus fly through this storm. Solace had just done it. He could do it, too.
He fired up the engines and shot up into the atmosphere. Once he reached the outer atmosphere, the ship immediately began to buck and almost went into a roll. Trever tasted the sourness of fear in his mouth. He righted the ship, remembering to track the currents on the computer and steer with them instead of against them. He could do this.
A trough of low pressure sent him spinning into a vortex of stars. Trever fought for control, his hands slipping from perspiration. He leaned into the ship’s dive, fighting the urge to correct it. He let the ship go. With a great shudder, it straightened.
Okay, it wouldn’t be easy. But he would do it. He had to.
Chapter Four