Zoraida Cordova - A Crash of Fate

“Sure,” Izzy said, encouraging his train of thought. “Say more things like that. What does he do after drinking his tea?”

“He gives out assignments to his apprentices. But no one showed up today. That’s why Tap came to fetch me,…But he didn’t give us assignments. He left a scrap of paper. I thought it was strange, but Dok’s a strange one. Tap, did Dok hand you the list today?”

Tap shook his head. “He was still writing it when I left. I figured I’d impress him and get started without being asked to.”

Jules remembered wanting to earn Dok’s trust and respect as a kid. Dok liked to test the way his apprentices handled different obstacles—rude customers, swindlers, even someone bold enough to try to rob the place. Tap was still too young to be put through those trials. But Jules couldn’t shake the troubling sensation that had itched its way beneath his skin. He turned to look at the closed door to Dok’s back rooms.

The metal was scuffed, but it had always been. The automatic sensors had been disabled long before because Dok paced the length of the mezzanine so much.

“What’s behind there?” Izzy asked from the main level.

“Safe rooms,” Tap told her.

Jules punched the door lock and it hissed open. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn’t have dared. But he had a feeling. He turned to look over his shoulder at Tap and Jules. “Dok wouldn’t leave this unlocked if he was stepping out.”

Izzy and Tap scrambled up the steps and flanked him.

“What are you thinking, Jules?” Tap asked.

He didn’t have a complete answer. He went through what he knew. Dok’s walking stick was missing. His morning tea was untouched. His comlink was left behind. His radio wasn’t turned on to listen to the Outpost broadcasts. Jules took a step forward.

“We’re not supposed to go in there,” Tap warned.

“Trust me, I know,” Jules said, nerves fraying. “But maybe there’s something back here that might give us a clue.”

His stomach clenched as he led the way into the dark back room that held Dok’s safes, and beyond that his sleeping quarters. What if the reason why everything appeared normal in the den, at first glance, was because the real problem was back there? Dok was invaluable to the Outpost for trade, for work. He was a fixture, as much as the jagged old stone foundations and towering spires. But he had enemies.

“Can you think of anyone who might have a grudge to settle?” Izzy asked.

Tap and Jules looked at each other and chuckled. They could think of several someones.

“Yeah, but his last assassination attempt missed,” Tap said.

Snooping around the dimly lit space felt wrong to Jules, but he didn’t have another choice. The back room was filled with stacked crates and bins packed with items that needed to be cleaned and repaired. Dok’s sleeping area was behind a curtain. Jules held his breath as he pulled one panel to the side. He huffed a breath of relief.

“What were you expecting?” Izzy asked, her green eyes amused.

“A body I’d have to explain to Oga,” Jules muttered, but wished he hadn’t brought up the crime boss. He still didn’t know what she’d told Izzy. Right now he had to focus.

Izzy crossed the room. She retraced their steps from the entrance and back. Her hand rested on the large safe room door.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“I’m just trying to think—” She cut herself off and tapped her fingers on the surface. “If I wanted to get to Dok, I wouldn’t do it in the den where I could leave evidence. Maybe he was moved. I still say kidnapping.”

“But there’s no sign of struggle back here,” Jules said.

Izzy shrugged. “Maybe Dok knew them.”

He laughed nervously. Should it trouble him that Izzy’s mind went straight to kidnapping?

Then Jules realized. There was one thing that had been totally out of place. He’d assumed Dok knocked over the goddess figurine. But what if it had been someone else in a rush to get in or out? Who would know Dok’s patterns? Who would have the nerve to even try? His gut told him what he needed to do.

“We have to try the safe room,” Jules said. “It’s the only room we haven’t checked. If something is missing, then we’ll have a direction at least. Tap, bring me Jaycee.”

Tap ran back into the shop.

“You’re pacing, Jules,” Izzy pointed out. She, on the other hand, was leaning against the wall. Maybe she was so calm because she didn’t fully understand what it meant for him to break a rule that had been ingrained in him since he was a kid.

“Whatever helps us get to Dok,” he said. “Maybe after this is all over we can have a drink?”

Her eyes cut to the floor. The stone was scuffed from years of crates being dragged in and out. “Yeah, maybe.”

Tap returned with an ancient astromech droid that had been retrofitted to vacuum. JC-284 powered up and began sucking up the dirt on the ground, but Tap spun it toward the safe door.

“The door, Jaycee,” Tap said. “We need it open.”

“Will that work?” Izzy said.

“Dok programmed it. I don’t see why not.”

The droid beeped wildly, clearly confused about having to do something that wasn’t part of its new programming. But it complied. Jules could hardly breathe as he watched the droid spin and finally connect to the metal lock until the door sighed open.

A wooden staff swung out and jabbed Jules in the gut. He groaned and grabbed his knees, struggling to regain his breath.

“Dok!” Tap shouted, and ran in front of Jules. “It’s us!”

“How did you get in there?” Jules choked out.

In deep, reverberating Ithorian, Dok muttered a string of words too quickly for Jules to understand, but he did catch a very clear “traitor.” As he began to calm, Dok didn’t exactly apologize to Jules for the jab to the stomach, but clearly he regretted that Jules was the one who’d been in the way. They helped him move to a sitting area behind a curtain.

The simple, plush couch was accented with a bantha-wool blanket. A small table made of wroshyr wood sat in front of it, with carvings Jules recognized from the Wooden Wookiee. Dok sat with his wooden staff gripped in his large, knobby hands.

“What’s he saying?” Tap asked. He was still picking up Ithorian.

“To bring him tea,” Jules said, and glanced at Izzy beside him. “And to have a good reason for being back here.”

“Freeing him wasn’t enough?” Izzy muttered. Fortunately, Dok was too busy taking inventory of his surroundings to hear her.

Dok motioned with his hand for them to sit. His round eyes blinked at Izzy, then turned to Jules as he spoke in his warbling voice.

“He wants to know who you are,” Jules translated.

“I’m Izzy Garsea,” she said, introducing herself in a strong, confident voice. “Pall Gopal sent me. I have this package for you.” She tapped the side of the pack she carried.

Dok nodded, then muttered a string of curses that Jules would spare Izzy the translation of. Tap came back around with tea for Dok, but not the others.

“What happened?” Tap asked, and sat on the very edge of the couch.

Dok slammed the end of his cane on the ground, startling all of them. Dok shook his head, black eyes narrowed in anger. He set his cup down and stretched his back as he spoke. Jules had to focus to keep up. He watched the Ithorian’s mouths move on either side of his neck.

“Two smugglers who owed Dok debts ran off,” Jules said. “More afraid of the First Order presence than Dok. But two of his most trusted advisers went to collect.”

Dok paused, picked up his cup of tea, stirred it, then drank.

“But how did you end up in the safe?” Tap asked. “You were here when I left.”