Zoraida Cordova - A Crash of Fate

“You do as we say,” Damar said.

“You kidnapped my sister and are holding me at blaster point.” He was defeated in his anger. “You know I will.”

Ana and Oksan were off preparing what she’d called phase two—the actual destruction of the crops. They’d taken the crate of white bricks with them. He’d heard her say something like “sodium mines”? No matter what they were, he had to get to them somehow. He eyed the door.

“Keep staring, farm boy,” Safwan said. With his arm in a sling and the Ketzalian’s short arms, it took two of them to load one crate. At least they moved quietly.

Jules begrudgingly grabbed a crate and began loading with the others.

Damar smirked. How could Izzy have been with someone like him? She didn’t deserve that. Jules slammed the crate on top of another.

“How come you talk so much more than your friends?” Jules asked.

Damar held Izzy’s blaster up, making sure Jules kept his part of the bargain. “They don’t have anything to say.”

Jules laughed, and the Twi’lek and Ketzalian frowned but kept working. “Must be nice to stand there while your crew does the heavy lifting. I bet you and Ana Tolla will celebrate together while they do the dirty work?”

“Shut your hole, farm boy, or I’ll blast you an extra one,” Damar growled, but the threat lacked any guts. Jules had already been threatened by Oga that day, and compared with that everything else lost its bluster.

“Did you learn to speak like that in the Core? Does Safwan get less because he’s injured and doing half the work?”

“Don’t listen to him, Safwan. We all get an equal share,” Damar said. “I can’t believe you were Iz’s rebound. Slim pickings on Batuu, right?”

He tried to joke with his comrades, but Jules hoped that the doubt he’d planted was the reason they didn’t laugh.

“You didn’t deserve her,” Jules told Damar.

“Even after all the things she said about you?” He used the blaster to scratch the side of his head. “I’m going to need a week to get the dirt of this planet off me. I’m thinking a nice spa retreat on the Risso hot springs moon. I hear the thermal waters are amazing.”

Jules wouldn’t be goaded into a fight that would end in his death, not when he needed to get Belen to safety.

“Perhaps I’ll find Iz after this,” Damar said. He was getting comfortable. He lowered the blaster and leaned against the wall. “How much do you want to bet I can get her to forgive me?”

Jules had a crate in his hands. It wasn’t heavy, but if he threw it, it would at least hurt.

“Cut it out, will you?” the Ketzalian squeaked, her plum head feathers ruffling. “You’re getting in the way, Damar. Go prep the ship so we’re ready to go.”

Jules averted his eyes from the alien. He wanted to hate her. He wanted to hate all of them. Just because they weren’t taunting him like Damar didn’t mean they were good . It just meant they were in a hurry.

Then he thought—how many times had he done a favor for pirates in the Outpost. What made Ana’s crew different from the others? Well, for starters, the others weren’t stupid enough to steal from the people who kept the blood of Batuu flowing, and they certainly didn’t mess with his family. Ana Tolla was bold, if not mad.

“You’re not my boss, Lita,” Damar told her.

Safwan slammed the crate down, and Lita went off balance in the air. “No, but I’ve been Ana Tolla’s second for five years. I outrank you. Go and prep the ship so we’re ready after she’s done with the fields.”

Damar turned red. He curled his lip and left.

Jules must have stared at the exit for too long, because Safwan tapped the blaster holstered on his good side. “Don’t think about it, Jules.”

“I think I’d much prefer it if your lot called me farm boy. It makes it less personal.”

“Makes what less personal?” the Twi’lek asked. He wrapped his hand around the blaster in warning, eyes steady.

“This—” Jules shoved the large crate at Safwan’s bad shoulder. The Twi’lek slammed into the wall, busy cradling his own head and screaming in pain.

Jules grabbed the pirate’s blaster and set it to stun before firing at Lita, who was mid-flight to get help. But as he made for the exit, it felt like a storm was rolling in. Blinding light flashed, and wind blew dust in his eyes.

He didn’t believe the sight in front of him. A ship had landed next to the silo. But not just any ship—the one he’d impulsively bought from Trix Sternus that day. When the ramp lowered, he had never been so relieved his friends had stolen his ship.

When Izzy saw Jules Rakab, she wanted nothing more than to run to him and make sure he was unharmed. But as Volt, Delta, G1-MD, and Tap stormed down the ramp ahead of her, there was no time for that.

“Help is on the way,” she said.

Jules nodded, more tense than she’d seen him all day, and that included their session with Oga. He went right to Tap, rested a hand on the boy’s hat, and said, “Belen is in their ship’s lounge. She’s got magnetic cuffs and anklets. Can you do it?”

Tap nodded. “What kind of question is that?”

Despite everything he’d been through, Jules grinned. He glanced up at Delta. “Go with him. Damar is prepping for takeoff.”

“The reunion’s great and all,” Volt said, raising his rifle. “But we’re about to have company.”

They all drew weapons and took cover behind the legs of the Avent100 freighter.

“Gee-One, ready the ship!” Izzy shouted. “As soon as Tap and Delta return with Belen, take them back to Hondo’s.”

“I am not programmed to take orders from you,” the droid said.

“Are you programmed to survive?” Volt shouted.

“Right away, beast master,” G1-MD said, then turned, muttering, “Master Hondo will hear about this.”

“You two lovebirds,” Volt said, and fired a warning shot at the entrance of the grain storage unit. “I know this is about to get a world of awkward, but can you save it until after we stop these pirates from destroying our crops? What’s the sitrep, kid?”

“Two in the grain storage,” Jules reported. “The Ketzalian is stunned, but Safwan is on his way out. He’s got a broken arm.”

“I like those odds.” Volt slapped Jules’s shoulder. “I sounded the alarm. Kat’s private security should be here any moment.”

“Not yet,” Jules and Izzy said at the same time.

Izzy’s stomach felt like exposed wiring. She let Jules speak.

“Do you know what sodium mines are?” Jules asked. “They look like white bricks.”

“No. I’ve only seen her use a fire torch.”

Volt’s dark eyes practically glimmered. “I want a fire torch. But I have heard of sodilium detonators. Highly toxic and flammable. They will make sure nothing ever grows in that soil if they’re activated.”

“How’d a crew like hers get ahold of something like that?” Jules asked.

“From whoever hired her,” Izzy said. “She’ll keep the control detonator on her. And she’ll have the Zygerrian with her. Volt, I think you should go with me. I can handle Ana.”

“Izzy—” Jules started.

“No time,” she said. “Take care of Lita and Safwan.”

Izzy ran with Volt toward the fields. For a man who hadn’t seen action in years, he was fast on his feet. The sensor lights had been disabled, leaving them to run in darkness. She wished she had more than the old blaster model Volt had let her borrow, but it was going to have to do. She was the one who controlled the shot, not the weapon, lucky or not.

“Talk to me, Izzy,” Volt said. “How are we supposed to get that control detonator to deactivate it?”