[Last Of The Jedi] - 07(32)

She bit her lip. “Yes.”

“But once I do it, you won’t be able to take it.”

She met his gaze for a long moment. He saw that she was giving up something that kept her going, gave her a reason to hope. If things became too bad, she would always be able to escape. Now she had no hope.

“Just go,” she said, and closed the lid.

He rested his cheek against the cool metal. He felt no fear. He was ready for whatever came. He was so tired of running.

Soon he was lifted and smashed down again. He felt the lurch of the gravsled as it moved.

He waited until he heard the sounds of heavy air traffic, pedestrians, the city of Ussa coming to life. Even without being able to see, he was able to track their progress through the city just by listening for familiar sounds. He waited until he was certain they were in the center of the city, the most populous district of Bluestone, and then he eased open the lid. The droids were simple service droids, but they had blasters built into their trunks. Now they were busy monitoring air traffic and controlling the gravsled. He wiggled out of the canister. A passing airspeeder pilot noted him, but this was Bellassa, where every citizen kept his or her mouth shut, so he looked away.

Crouching behind the canister, Trever waited for the next traffic stop. Then he leaped off the gravsled. It was about eight meters to the ground, and he hit hard, feeling the shock in his knees. But he rolled and stood up quickly.

He lost himself in the surging crowd. The sounds of the city were familiar and comforted him. He made his way to the safe house. As he drew near, his steps dragged. He didn’t want to break the news. He didn’t want to say it out loud.

Wil opened the door. He grabbed Trever by the elbows and pulled him inside. “What happened? Where’s Amie?”

“Captured.”

Wil sagged against the wall. “I’ve been up all night…waiting. Roan?”

“Ferus was captured, too. Vader was there.”

Slowly, Wil straightened. “Roan.”

“Dead.” Trever felt his mouth twist out of shape.

He heard a moan, and Dona entered, her hands against her mouth.

Wil, who was always so strong, shocked Trever by simply lowering himself to the hallway floor. He put his head in his hands.

Wil had always been so brusque and remote. He was a legendary figure in Ussa, one of the founding members of the Eleven. Trever had never known that he could be overcome like this. It added to his own fear, and he started to shake again.

Dona put her strong hand on his shoulder. “Come on.”

He followed her into the house. She pushed him down on a sleep couch and covered him with two blankets. “You need to get warm.”

Trever realized how cold he was.

She disappeared and came back with a mug of scalding tea. “Drink this.”

“I can’t.”

Wil appeared. He crossed the room and crouched down next to him. “It happens sometimes after a battle. The shaking. You’ll be all right.”

Trever hid his face from Wil.

“It’s happened to me,” Wil said. “More than once. So don’t be ashamed.”

Wil disappeared again. Trever drank the tea, not tasting it, just feeling the warmth spread out through his bones.

It seemed to take a long while before Wil reappeared.

“It’s on the HoloNet now. They’re bragging about it.” Wil looked as though he’d aged ten years in the past half hour.

“I saw Roan die,” Trever said. “Vader acted so fast. No one expected it. Roan didn’t even have a blaster in his hand —” He saw anguish mirrored in Wil’s eyes.

Roan had tossed him bakery rolls for breakfast and advice when he needed it. He’d let him sleep in the office when it was cold and looked the other way if Trever lifted a few credits on his way out the door. And then, when Trever was no longer a petty thief but a fellow resistance fighter, he had never made him feel less than anybody else. He had accepted him. Together with Ferus, he was the closest to family that Trever had known since his own family had died, every last one of them. Mother. Father. Brother. Roan.

He reached into his tunic to the pocket that lay against his skin. He pulled out the chip and handed it to Wil. “There’s something on it. Something they were able to discover.”

Wil took it. “At least we have this.”

Trever looked up. He could feel something clenched inside him, something unfamiliar, and he realized it was fear that had dug in, that might never leave. “Wil,” he whispered, “for the first time … I think we might lose.”

Wil’s hand tightened on him. “We won’t lose. But I have to get you off-planet.” Trever straightened. “No!”