• Choose a category
• All
• Classic-Fiction

But he hadn't been there. And yes, part of him hated Ferus for that. But not as much as he hated himself. For failing.

"I suppose you're going to tell me it's the only option," Div said sourly.

"No." Ferus paused. "Just the best option."

Div exploded. "How is it the best anything to abuse Trever's memory like that? And you honestly expect me to go along with it? For what? To help them? " He jerked his head at the path that led back to the Rebel barracks. "You think Trever would want that?"

Ferus tilted his head. "Trever risked his life for this cause, time and time again. He died for it." He swallowed hard. "Using his identity in this way…it could give his death meaning."

"Nothing can give his death meaning," Div shot back angrily. "All death is meaningless."

"And all life?" Ferus asked mildly. "Is that the next logical conclusion?"

Div didn't respond. He remembered this from his childhood, the Jedi-way—small, innocent questions designed to guide you to one big answer. Ferus always liked to claim he wasn't a real Jedi—after all, he'd left the order as a teenager, before becoming a Jedi Master. He'd given up that life and spent nearly a decade living as an ordinary man. But from where Div was sitting, Ferus was just like the rest of them—sure of his own wisdom, sure he was right. Full of secrets. Whatever the technicalities, Div thought, Ferus was a Jedi.

It wasn't a compliment.

"This won't work without your cooperation," Ferus said. "But I didn't come out here to convince you." He stood up, brushing the dirt off his clothes. He'd borrowed the ill-fitting shirt from General Dodonna. It was strange to see him dressed as a Rebel soldier—

nearly as strange as it had been to see him in Imperial garb. "The choice is yours, Div." He patted Div on the shoulder. And as much as he wanted to, Div didn't squirm away. "I trust you. I always have."

Maybe you shouldn't, Div thought as Ferus left him. You trusted me to look after Trever, and look how that worked out.

It had been a long time since anyone had trusted him, and since he'd dared trust anyone else. Trusting people was the kind of thing that got you dead in a hurry. And letting other people trust you was nearly as dangerous. It meant their lives were your responsibility—

and so were their deaths. It was easier to be alone.

But once Ferus was gone, Div grew disgusted by his own company. He started back toward the Rebel camp. Midway, Luke appeared, his little astromech droid in tow.

Luke waved, grinning. "Glad I found you!"

"You were looking for me?" Div asked, instantly cautious. The Rebels seemed to have lost interest in locking him up now that they had all the information they needed on this X-7. But Div hadn't forgotten that before that day, he'd been a prisoner on this moon.

And he suspected that Luke hadn't forgotten that Div had once tried to kill him.

Luke drew his lightsaber and activated the beam.

Div tensed, ready to leap out of the way. He'd seen Luke handle the weapon. His efforts were clumsy, hesitant. Div could disarm him. Probably.

"I come out here to practice sometimes," Luke said. "More privacy, you know?"

"Uh, yeah." Div felt like a fool.

"Back on Kamino, you saved my life with this thing," Luke said, lifting the lightsaber.

"Like you'd been using it your whole life."

Div shrugged. "Like I say, just something I picked up."

"Well, I was kind of hoping…" Luke reddened. "You think you could teach me some moves?"

"What?"

"It's no big deal," Luke said quickly. "I just figured…I don't really have anyone else who can show me how to use this thing."

That's what you think, Div thought. He didn't understand why Ferus was so determined not to tell Luke the truth. Why not start training him as a Jedi now, before it was too late?

Like it's too late for me.

"Sounds great," Div said. "I could use the exercise."

It wasn't exercise he needed. It was distraction. Pushing himself to the point of exhaustion, and past it. This was perfect.

"Think of the lightsaber as an extension of your body," he said,