Light of the Jedi(64)

Burryaga spared a thought for the two other Jedi who had been involved with rescuing these people—Masters Te’Ami and Sutmani. How had they managed to escape this assignment? His mood souring, he ate the core of the fruit, seeds and all, crunching it into nothing and swallowing.

He turned back to the plates of food, thinking he might try one of the cheeses next, when someone caught his eye. There, off to the side, standing at the very edge of the white floor, staring out at the swirls of blue and green on the viewdeck’s dome, a human boy, red-haired, speaking to no one. One of the therapy droids stood not far away, its broad, cheerful face slowly cycling through a range of warm, pleasant pastels as it spoke to the child. Burryaga wasn’t always expert at estimating ages of other species, but he thought the boy was ten years along, maybe a little older.

He wasn’t answering the therapy droid, despite the best efforts of the helpful little machine. Just staring, thinking whatever thoughts occupied his mind.

Burryaga set his plate down and walked in that direction, reaching out with the Force as he did. He sensed an immense sadness coming from the boy, mixed with…guilt. Guilt for something monstrous and immense, nothing someone of his age should ever have any reason to feel.



He walked up to the boy. The child’s eyes were hollow, just pits in his face.

“I’m Burryaga,” he said, touching his chest, even though he knew the boy couldn’t understand. He pointed at the child. “What’s your name?”

The gestures were universal enough, obvious, and the boy smiled sadly.

“Serj,” he said. “Serj Ukkarian.”

Burryaga gestured over toward the other survivors, a questioning expression on his face.

Serj looked over, a long, slow, sad look that did not seem to end, as if he was searching for something among the survivors he knew was not there. Someone, more like.

He shook his head.

Burryaga reached out and folded the boy up in an embrace. He couldn’t understand why anyone hadn’t already done this. When someone was hurting, you did what you could to heal them.

When someone was lost, you found them.

With the Force, he did what he could to soothe poor Serj. He couldn’t take away his bad feelings, but he could take some of the weight, make them a bit easier for the boy to bear.

Serj held himself rigid, but slowly began to relax, setting down some part of whatever he was carrying. Burryaga felt him begin to shudder in his arms, and realized the boy was crying.

“I did it,” Serj said, his voice muffled against Burryaga’s chest. “It’s all my fault. I was slicing into the bridge systems because Captain Casset thought she was so smart. I wanted to show her she didn’t know as much as she thought—I was going to put a holovid on the bridge screens, but right when I got in, I saw…I saw…and then the ship ripped apart, and I was in compartment eight, but my mom and dad were in compartment twelve, and they still haven’t found it, and I think…I think…”



He collapsed into sobs. Burryaga held him for what seemed like a long time.

The boy wasn’t quite done talking, though, and Burryaga listened to everything the child had to say. Eventually, when Serj seemed to be talked out, he released him and stepped back.

“You,” he said, tapping the boy gently on the forehead, “did nothing wrong.”

He touched his fingertips together, then pulled them apart gently, miming an explosion.

Burryaga shook his head gently, and gave Serj a smile.

“You did nothing wrong,” he said again.

The boy surely could not speak Shyriiwook—but he could understand, and he did.

Burryaga steered Serj over to Nib Assek, who was chatting with another group of survivors.

“You need to hear this, Master,” he said.

She looked at him, curious.

“This is Serj Ukkarian,” Burryaga said, patting the boy on the shoulder, who suddenly seemed very nervous indeed, which made sense—being the focus of Jedi attention could be intimidating. “He fears he lost his family in the disaster, and we should do everything we can for him.”

Nib Assek nodded.

“Of course,” she said. “Everything we can.”

Her tone was respectful, but also a little curious. His master didn’t understand why he had brought this child to her—after all, nearly everyone on the viewdeck had a sad story to tell.

“Serj accessed the bridge systems on the Legacy Run just before the accident,” Burryaga said. “He was playing a prank, nothing serious, but as part of that he sliced into its screens, and when he did, he got a glimpse of whatever it was they ran into out there that caused the ship to disintegrate.”



“That’s fascinating,” Nib said, purposely avoiding looking at Serj so as not to spook him. She could sense his state as well as Burryaga could—well, perhaps not as easily as he could, emotions were his particular strength in the Force—but the boy’s tension and confusion blazed out like a burning tree at night. A youngling on his first day at the Temple would be able to sense Serj’s turmoil.

After a moment’s thought, she turned to the boy, going down on one knee, putting herself at his level.

“Burryaga tells me you’re very brave,” she said.

Serj didn’t answer.

“He also tells me you saw something when you sliced into the Legacy Run’s systems, just before the disaster began. We’re trying to do everything we can to stop the Emergences, and prevent something like this from ever happening again. I know it has to be a painful memory, but can you tell me what you saw, Serj? Can you explain it to me?”