Star Wars: The Last of the Jedi, Volume 3

by Jude Watson

  He noticed that Ferus wasn’t too happy about leading the Erased down. They had traveled for hours until they were far away from the Senate and Galactic City, and all Ferus could think about was the Jedi he was searching for. Honestly, he was a little obsessive about it. But still, Trever had never met anyone he felt he could depend on like Ferus. It was worth sticking around.

  Their plans were loose. They had to be. The group had decided to head down, all of them packed into one large speeder, and pick up information along the way. Since there were so many rumors about Solace, they felt certain that they would find the way there.

  Of course, some of the rumors were pretty extreme.

  Number one: Solace was a place on the crust that had escaped the monolithic building boom on Coruscant. It had trees and lakes and was open to the sky far above, with nothing on top of it.

  And if you believe that, Trever thought, you believe in space angels.

  Number two: Solace was built centuries ago on the crust, a wondrous place of palaces and towers where all were welcome, and all were cherished, and all were free.

  Right, and the Emperor is a humble guy looking out for everyone’s well-being and the galaxy is a blooming garden.

  The only rumor Trever truly believed was the fact they already knew: Solace was hard to find.

  At the end of a long day of learning basically nothing, Rhya Taloon unstrapped her holsters to make herself comfortable and stretched out on the sleep couch in the guesthouse they’d arranged to stay in for the night. Gilly and Spence were busy cleaning their weapons while Trever lay down on the other sleep couch, and Ferus spread his cloak on the floor for a bed.

  “This is getting us nowhere,” Rhya announced to the ceiling. She placed the toe of her boot on the opposite heel and kicked off one boot, then the other. They landed with a thump on the floor.

  “You’ve got to ask a lot of questions before you get real answers, sweetblossom,” Keets said as he sat astride a chair. “We may not see it, but we have pieces of the puzzle.”

  “We do?” She waved a hand in the air. “All I heard today was noise.”

  “There’s one thing we keep hearing. The crust. It’s all the way down—some say it’s even below the crust.”

  “That’s true,” Ferus said. “That’s the common thread.”

  Oryon shook back his tangled mane of hair. He was in his usual resting position, squatting on the floor. It looked uncomfortable to Trever, but Oryon seemed to find it relaxing. “There is usually a kernel of truth in even the most exaggerated rumor. Keets might be right.”

  Gilly and Spence looked up from their weapons to nod.

  “There’s got to be a first time,” Hume said. He was the tall human man who’d been a Republic army officer.

  Keets saluted him. “Even a broken chrono is right twice a day.”

  “So we should go straight to the crust,” Curran said. “Stop wasting time.”

  “Sounds like a plan,” Hume said. “I hate to waste time.”

  Everyone looked at Ferus. “I agree,” he said.

  “Anybody ever been that deep before?” Keets asked.

  “Are you kidding?” Rhya asked. “I never made it out of Galactic City.” She looked down at the holsters on the floor. “Then again, I never shot a blaster before, either.”

  Oryon checked his weapon. “Well, get ready. You might have plenty of opportunities soon.”

  They left for the crust at first light.

  They zoomed down past sublevel after sublevel. There were no space lanes here, just tricky piloting. Ferus piloted the speeder, not speaking, concentrating on avoiding the other aggressive speeders he encountered as well as broken sensors that suddenly loomed in front of him, crumbling landing platforms, and narrow passages.

  Coruscant had been built from the surface up. When the levels had become too crowded to bear, more levels were built above. More buildings, more infrastructure, more power stations, more walkways. The deeper Ferus and the others went, the more ancient these structures became.

  They left the speeder on a landing platform that had been shored up with timbers of durasteel and wood. Looking around, Trever could see that improvisation was the name of the game when it came to building down here.

  Here at the crust, they entered a century that was committed to grandeur. These long-ago beings built their buildings out of stone, hundreds of stories high, with intricate carvings and balconies, turrets, and towers. The stone of the buildings was cracked and crumbling. Often they were reinforced with scrap metal or wood. Their streets were winding and narrow, with alleys leading off from alleys in a confusing maze.

  There were no official systems here at all—no power, no water, no light, no ventilation that wasn’t powered by private generators. They walked down through a narrow arched walkway. The stone beneath their feet was cracked and split, sometimes with fissures that were meters wide. They jumped when they had to and skirted the holes. They were the only beings out on the streets. Although above them the suns weren’t setting, it felt like night. The air was dark and close.

  This was it—the bottom of Coruscant. The lowest known level.

  If they didn’t find Solace here, there was nowhere else to go.

  Trever hoped there was safety in numbers. The Erased looked treacherous. He couldn’t imagine that anyone would want to tangle with them.

  He found his steps slowing. He felt haunted by what was above. It was as though he could feel the pressure of the millions of lives above him, the millions of structures and machines, a whole impossible matrix of humming life above his head, of millions of beating hearts.

  It was enough to seriously creep him out.

  “You’re uncharacteristically silent, young fellow.” Keets fell into step beside him.

  “It all feels so...heavy,” Trever said.

  “You mean everything above your head?” Keets laughed. “Yeah, I see what you mean. It’s kind of oppressive.”

  “So who lives down here?” he asked.

  Keets shrugged. “Immigrants from other worlds, those who came here hoping to do better. Those who lost everything, those who had nowhere else to go. Just creatures living, trying to live. And those who prey off them.”

  “And those looking for the wonderful world of Solace,” Trever said.

  Keets chuckled. Then suddenly he reached over and pushed Trever hard. Trever fell to the rough ground.

  “Hey, what—”

  Then he saw them. The gang had materialized, seemingly out of thin air, but Trever now saw the narrow passageway that snaked off the arched walk. Keets had pushed him out of the way of a stun dart just in time. Trever looked up and saw that Oryon had already reached for his light repeating blaster from his back holster. Keets held a blaster pistol in his hand. Now Trever saw the streaks of blaster fire in the darkness, a steady barrage, as the gang moved forward. There were at least fifteen of them, each more brutal-looking than the rest.

  Ferus was already running, his lightsaber sweeping in a continually moving arc. The attackers were clearly startled at the ferocity and power he exhibited, not to mention the blaster fire that suddenly boomeranged back at them. They kept firing as they retreated, shouting curses at Ferus and promising to kill him.

  Oryon and Hume kept up a position on Ferus’s flank, each of them firing their weapons. Keets and Rhya were only slightly behind, while Gilly and Spence split up and began to chase the gang as they gave up firing and fled.

  Trever started to roll to his feet. The fissures and cracks were wider here, and his foot became lodged in a crack as he moved. Annoyed, he tried to pull it out, but it was stuck. Trever squirmed closer to peer into the crack.

  A thick, scaly tail had wrapped itself around his ankle.

  Trever gave a yell of surprise and tried to pull his leg up. The creature wound another length around his ankle and tugged. He tried to kick at it, but it only hung on tighter.

  “Ferus!” Trever called. But Ferus was ahead, with Rhya and Hume, and di
dn’t hear him.

  He looked down again, and this time he saw the dead eye of the creature staring back at him. He didn’t think that the concept of mercy existed in this creature’s universe.

  It gave a sudden yank, and Trever dropped into the crevice up to his hips. His other leg now dangled inside the crack, and he pushed away the question of whether this creature had a mate. He kicked and twisted, hitting the creature now with one fist while with the other hand he fished for something—anything—in his utility belt.

  Trever felt the familiar contours of an alpha charge.

  His fingers fumbled as he tried to set the charge. He managed to do it, but the creature tugged, and the charge rolled out of his fingers and dropped into the blackness. In the flash of light he saw a reptilian body with scales that looked like duracrete. The mouth of the creature appeared to be strong enough to snap him in two.

  Suddenly something whistled by his ear. He caught the glint of a vibroshiv as it wheeled through the air in a spinning, perfect aim for the tail. It sank in up to the hilt. The thick tail suddenly unfurled, and Trever heard the sound of the creature slithering away.

  “Duracrete slug,” Keets said, holding down a hand for him and hauling him up. “About ten meters long, by the look of him. They burrow into the stone. Best to keep an eye out.”

  “Thanks for the tip.” Trever dusted off his pants.

  Ferus hurried over. “What happened?”

  “Nothing much. I was almost strangled by an enormous slug. Nothing for you to worry about,” Trever said. He didn’t know why he felt so irritated that Ferus hadn’t saved him. Ferus had been walking ahead, not concerning himself with Trever at all.

  “Hey, sorry. Thanks,” Ferus said to Keets.

  “Sure. You owe me a vibroshiv.” Keets grinned, his teeth white through the dirt streaked on his face.

  “We found a place that might provide some information,” Ferus said.

  The others had paused in front of two crumbling stone columns. A sputtering laserlight sign read: UNDERWORLD INN. They regarded it as Ferus, Trever, and Keets walked up.

  “Not your most premier establishment,” Rhya said.

  “We do need a bed for the night,” Ferus said.

  “And where there’s beds, there’s grog,” Keets said. “And where’s there’s grog, there’s gossip.”

  “Let’s give it a try,” Ferus said. “But keep your weapons close.”

  They pushed open the stone door. They walked into a large circular space formed by towering arches. The stone floor and stone ceiling made their footsteps echo. Huge alien gargoyles leered over their heads with what looked like malicious intent.

  “Homey,” Hume remarked.

  They approached a small battered desk that was dwarfed by its surroundings. A clerk sat behind it, fast asleep. Ferus cleared his throat, but he didn’t stir.

  Oryon slammed the hilt of his blaster rifle down on the desk, and the clerk awoke with a start. “Fire!” he shouted.

  “No fire,” Ferus said. “Just some customers.”

  “Oh.” The clerk straightened. “Ah, we only have a couple of rooms available. You’ll have to double up.”

  “Fine.”

  “Costs extra for towels and water.”

  “Extra for water?”

  “Hard to get water down here.”

  “All right, all right.”

  Ferus was about to produce his false ID docs, but the clerk waved a hand to dismiss him. “Just credits. We don’t need ID docs.”

  “I thought it was the law.”

  The clerk raised an eyebrow at him, as though Ferus was a new recruit into a very old army. “There’s no law down here. If you haven’t figured that out yet, I feel sorry for you.”

  They paid the credits, and then Hume asked, “We’ve got some dry throats here. Any recommendations?”

  The clerk shrugged a shoulder in the direction of a doorway.

  They pushed open the door and went inside. The cantina was small but the ceiling was high, casting deep shadows throughout the space. To Ferus’s surprise, the place was almost full. Humanoids and other creatures sat at the bar or at small tables that hugged the shadows. Weapons were prominently displayed on the tables.

  “Reminds me of a place I used to go in Galactic City called the ’Dor, only worse,” Keets observed.

  Ferus nodded. He’d been to the ’Dor with Siri, as a Padawan who had tried very hard not to be intimidated by the atmosphere. The dregs of the galaxy went there to drink, buy or sell information, and hire bounty hunters. It had once been called the Splendor until most of its laser letters had shorted out, and everyone just called it the ’Dor.

  “I’d say we should have a seat,” Hume advised. “We’re attracting a bit of attention here.”

  “Not necessarily a bad thing,” Oryon said. “It might get us some answers.”

  They took over several small tables and ordered drinks and food. They saw that they were being observed. Ferus took a small sip of his drink, then got up and brought it to the bar to see if anyone was in the mood to chat. Meanwhile, Keets struck up a conversation with the table next door.

  They ate the food and finished four pots of tea and talked to almost every person in the bar, but no one was able to get directions to Solace. Everyone had heard of it, but no one knew where it was. Finally, the cantina cleared out and they had to admit defeat. Trever had been feeling woozy for some time. He yawned.

  “We might as well get some sleep,” Ferus said.

  The room was large, with sleep couches and one receptacle and outlet that dribbled pale yellow water. The couches were just planks with a blanket on top. Not the most uncomfortable bed Ferus had ever slept on, but it was definitely in the top ten.

  He turned on his side and looked at Trever’s tousled hair sticking up from his blanket. He felt bad about not being the one to help Trever earlier. He’d made sure Trever was safe during the battle, then concentrated on their attackers. He had heard Trever’s cry, but by the time he’d started to run, Keets was already there.

  He couldn’t be there for him every time. Or so he tried to tell himself.

  He didn’t know where his responsibility to the boy began or ended. He knew, of course, that Trever was hardly as self-sufficient as he professed to be. Even though the boy had lived on his own for years, he occasionally needed guidance, someone to watch over him.

  Was that his job?

  If he were still a Jedi, if the galaxy hadn’t changed, he’d be old enough to have a Padawan now. But Trever wasn’t his Padawan. Ferus didn’t have the connection with him that a Master Jedi would. He didn’t have the link that he’d had with Siri. He lost track of him occasionally. And he couldn’t tell what he was thinking or feeling.

  It was better that they part, that he find a haven for Trever so he could grow up safe and secure. Even loved, if that were possible.

  Because Ferus would just keep burying them deeper into complications and danger. It wasn’t fair to Trever. Today it had been a ten-foot duracrete slug. But what would tomorrow bring, and the day after that?

  With those disquieting thoughts, Ferus felt himself slipping toward sleep. The soft breathing in the room told him that the others had succumbed, despite the hard, flat beds.

  Suddenly he heard a noise. Ferus put his hand on his lightsaber, but soon saw it was Trever, crawling toward him quietly so as not to awaken the others.

  He stopped by the head of the sleep couch, his eyes gleaming.

  “I know where to find Solace,” he said.

  “It was when the slug started to pull me down—”

  “Trever, I’m sorry I—”

  “Enough with the guilt wallow, Feri-Wan—I’m trying to tell you something. I dropped an alpha charge and when it went off, the light showed me something. More than a ten-foot predator chewing on my ankle, I mean. There’s something down there.”

  “Something?”

  “Something more than a duracrete slug nest. I was thinking about it. T
here was a glint...like there was metal or something, or water. I’m not sure, but it was like there was...space. Like a room. Or something. It’s just that...remember when some of the rumors said below the crust?”

  Ferus didn’t have to ask if Trever was sure. He trusted this boy’s perceptions.

  “I’ll wake the others. Let’s go.”

  It was now what many called the empty hours. Too late for even those who walked these dangerous areas at night, too early for those who rose before dawn. They kept close together as they walked.

  Trever led a yawning Keets and the others to the spot where the duracrete slug had tried to pull him through the crack. Ferus leaned over and shined a glowlight down into the space. He couldn’t tell, but he thought Trever was right—there was something down there.

  “I think I can fit,” Ferus said. “Let me go down, and if I see anything, I’ll call up.”

  Keets leaned against a column and yawned. “Take your time.”

  Ferus eased into the opening. There was a crumbling half-wall once he got below, he saw. It was deeply gouged with the tracks of a slug, but that gave him toeholds and handholds. To his surprise, Trever began to climb down after him.

  “Stay up there,” Ferus told him.

  “No way. I found this place, I’m coming.”

  Ferus knew it would be a waste of breath to argue. He continued to climb down slowly. He jumped the last few meters. His boots hit solid ground. Trever jumped next to him a moment later. He held a glow rod over his head for illumination.

  Ferus could see now that they were in a tunnel. Gigantic blocks of stone formed the walls and ceiling. The floor was deeply grooved and he could see the remnants of machinery buried in the tracks.

  “That’s what you saw glinting,” he told Trever. “This must have been some kind of transportation system.”

  He shouted up to the others that the way was clear, and they began to climb down, one after the other.

  Hume avoided a steaming yellow pool that released a rank odor. “Careful,” he said. “Looks like some toxic waste down here.”

  “The system must have been primitive,” Rhya said. “They used rails for transport.”