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.”