Zoraida Cordova - A Crash of Fate

“Who says?”

“It’s my ship. I have to do something.”

“Fine.” She held out her hand and repeated words she’d heard her mother utter many times: “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

They shook hands the way they’d seen the grown-ups do, then rested in the shade awhile longer. If there had been clouds in the sky, they would have played a game of giving them shape. Once, she was sure she’d seen a flying bantha in a cluster of rain clouds. Instead, they watched as more ships flew in from the atmosphere and headed straight for the Outpost. Izzy could see the patch of farms where both their parents spent their days toiling, the bright grasslands, and the hills. She loved Batuu from up above, but most of all she loved watching the river snake across the planet’s surface, weaving among dense trees and jutting spires that had once been trees themselves.

The boy pointed at a familiar ship. “Isn’t that the Meridian ?”

The Meridian was her mother’s ship, a light freighter usually stationed in one of the docking bays. Because their home was so small, they used the ship for storage. The girl held the scarf over her eyes and squinted. It was too sunny, and the glare hurt to stare at too long. “That can’t be. My mother’s at the farm, and Da never flies alone.”

A growl erupted from behind them, pulling their attention away from the sky. A four-legged creature crouched behind the crooked trees. It moved too fast for them to get a good look, darting behind a cluster of rocks.

“What is that?” the boy shouted. “It’s too big to be a rat.”

The girl picked up the largest rock within reach and flung it as hard as she could. It smacked off the boulder and went over the ledge, rattling all the way down. The creature leapt again, black as a shadow. The boy followed her example, and they chased off the creature with pebbles and rocks.

The girl approached the cliff’s edge and looked down at the sharp rocks and crags below. “Coast is clear.”

“We should go back home,” the boy said.

They gathered up their few belongings, but the animal leapt from where it had been hiding. Never in his life had Jules seen anything quite like it before: part feline and part lizard, with a splotchy coat of fur and yellow split-pupil eyes. It bared tiny sharp teeth and snapped hard at the air. The boy tumbled back and fell. His head slammed on a rock, and blood dripped down over his ear. The beast climbed up on a boulder, ready to pounce again.

“No!” The girl’s scream echoed off the rock around them. She had no weapon but herself. Throwing her body in front of the creature, she shut her eyes and shielded her face. Jaws closed around her forearm, and pain splintered through her.

The boy scrambled back to his feet and found another stone, small but sharp. He aimed true, and it landed in the beast’s eye. It let go with a howl and finally retreated.

“Izzy!” the boy shouted. “You’re bleeding!”

He unraveled his scarf and wrapped it around her wound to staunch the blood. He tied the ends into a knot.

“You were brilliant,” she said.

He marveled at her. She didn’t cry or wince; she simply grinned at him. “You saved me first.”

“You’re my best friend, Jules. I couldn’t stand it if something happened to you.”

They sat under the hot suns for a while longer, waiting for the creature to come back. But they were not afraid. They had each other.

“Can you climb down?” he asked her.

“I think so.” She looked over the cliffside, and for the first time the steep climb made her nervous. But she couldn’t very well live on top of a rock, if only because she knew Jules wouldn’t leave her, and then he’d be in trouble, too. “I will.”

They used each other like chain links, moving down, feet digging for purchase, hands clinging to stone and to each other.

When they were on solid ground, they shared a victorious cheer. The boy did not have many things he could call his own, but he had a family trinket. He twisted the ring from his middle finger. It was smooth black stone with natural flecks of gold along the surface. His father had carved one for each of their family members.

“Here,” he offered.

Izzy held it on her palm like it was the most precious thing she’d ever been given. “I shouldn’t. I have nothing to give you.”

“My father says you shouldn’t give a gift if all you want is one in return. You do it as thanks or to show someone you care.”

The girl slid the ring onto her pointer finger, where it fit the best. “Thank you, Jules.”

On the long walk back home, they retold the story to each other, the creature getting bigger, hairier, and toothier each time. But they kept glancing behind them, silently fearing it would follow.

They went their separate ways for the night.

When the girl walked through the front door of her house, she was surprised to see her father home. That time of day he was supposed to be at the farm. Thank the skies he was there. Her arm had begun throbbing. He took her to get her wound looked at by a medical droid. Fortunately, the beast that had bitten her carried no diseases, but it would leave a mark.

The girl slept long and hard and dreamed of falling off the cliff. She woke when her father scooped her into his arms.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“Hush now,” he whispered. “It’ll be an adventure.”

The girl loved adventures, and she fell back asleep.

She remembered the sigh of the boarding ramp, then her mother’s tense voice asking if they’d left anything behind. They hadn’t, but Izzy had.

The girl woke completely when they were flying out of the atmosphere. Strapped into the seat, she thrashed and cried, “No! We have to go back! I didn’t say good-bye!”

Didn’t they know that she and Jules were going to travel the worlds and be a princess and a captain and—

But her words were drowned out by the rattle of the ship as they sped deep into space. All she saw was the green speck of Batuu, then the rush of stars as they hit lightspeed.

“I’m sorry, my darling girl,” her father said when it was safe to stand. “But we’ll find a new home and you’ll make new friends.”

He pulled her into his arms. She stopped her crying and stared over his shoulder at the infinite stars and planets that lay before them.

When she was alone in her bunk, the girl twisted the ring around her finger and whispered, “I’ll find you, Jules. I’ll come back for you.”

That was the first promise Izal Garsea ever broke.

Izal Garsea spent all day waiting for fireworks to fill the sky.

That anticipation had been the only thing getting her through the mundane tasks of the day. Damar Olin had given her a list of things to do, as per Ana Tolla’s orders. Ana wasn’t even their boss, and Izzy and Damar weren’t official members of her crew yet. But somehow Izzy kept getting stuck with what amounted to chores, neglecting her own ship’s maintenance.

First she’d helped the crew load Ana Tolla’s ship with crates of supplies they’d need for their next mission. Then she’d been sent on a pointless errand to pick up a replacement power converter, when they had a perfectly functional one already. The only thing she felt good about doing was fixing a glitch in the ship’s navicomputer. At first, she thought it was all part of Damar’s ruse to truly surprise her, but as night fell over the rusty skies of Actlyon and they crowded onto the cantina’s patio for one last drink, Izzy grew anxious. Why did she ever expect Damar to change?

Located in the crowded lower district of Actlyon City, the cantina was dimmer and rowdier than most, with a cloying scent of stale liquor. Izzy made sure her blaster was in place. It was an older model with surface modifications, but it had been her mother’s, and she never went anywhere without it. Ana Tolla led the way to the back doors, her long red whip of a braid swinging from side to side. The outside patio had seating overlooking the mountains on one side and the docking bays packed with transport vessels arriving for the night on the other. There the crowd was drunken but not dangerous, at least not at the moment. Though the burning scent of fuel from the port nearby drifted their way when the wind blew, the blanket of stars made up for it.