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
fi
ring 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
didn'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." Meets 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 Meets 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," Meets 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 does, but the clerk waved a
hand to dismiss him. "Just credits. We don't need ID dots."
"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
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