Rembrandt The Jewish Bride

Luke stared back at his friend, tried to picture Biggs—fun-loving, happy-go-lucky, live-for-today Biggs—as patriot afire with rebellious fervor. "You're going to join the rebellion?" he started. "You've got to be kidding.How?" "Damp down, will you?" the bigger man cautioned. "You've got a mouth like acrater." "I'm sorry," Luke whispered rapidly. "I'm quiet—listen how quiet I am. Youcan barely hear me—" Biggs cut him off and continued. "A friend of mine from the Academy has afriend on Bestine who might enable us to make contact with an armed rebel unit.""A friend of a—You're crazy," Luke announced with conviction, certain his friendhad gone mad. "You could wander around forever trying to find a real rebel outpost.Most of them are only myths. This twice removed friend could be an imperial agent.You'd end up on Kessel, or worse. If rebel outposts were so easy to find, the Empirewould have wiped them out years ago." "I know it's a long shot," Biggs admitted reluctantly. "If I don't contact them,then"—a peculiar light came into Biggs's eyes, a conglomeration of newfoundmaturity and…something else—"I'll do what I can, on my own."