He forced himself to meet her eye, not to blink as she left her jaws open and breathed in his face. He slapped her arm and flashed a smile.
“Understood.”
Just then someone bumped into them, muttering a gruff apology. The figure in gray hurried past.
“Great,” Lee said, massaging her temples, the datapad wedged under her armpit. “If anyone asks, I’m in the office.”
Lee turned to go in the opposite direction.
“But the office is that way,” Jules said.
The Karkarodon pressed the vapor dispenser on her bodysuit and walked away. He couldn’t relax yet, and turned to the row of speeders and bikes. Izzy wasn’t there. Worry filled his senses at the thought that something might have happened to her.
“Well?” The gray-clad figure appeared beside him, and he jolted straight.
It took him a moment to recognize Izzy under the cloak. She had bumped into him.
“What were you thinking?” he asked, walking her around a stack of metal crates. He could hear Neelo and Fawn’s song “Desert Skiff Sunset” playing from somewhere. “I had things under control.”
She lowered her hood. “Not from where I was standing. I thought she was going to bite your head off.”
He pressed his palm to his chest. “It was a close one.”
“I thought I could snatch her access card from her pocket, but it was empty.”
The green-and-white protocol droid, G1-MD, tried to catch up to the angry redheaded pilot, who’d just quit. Though Jules knew his face around the spaceport wouldn’t raise any questions, he wanted to protect Izzy. He leaned one arm against the metal crates behind her, shielding her from view. For a brief moment, her green eyes flicked to his mouth before she turned her face away.
“How are we going to get into that room now?” She touched that necklace under her shirt again.
“I told you. I had it under control.” From his pocket, he pulled the access card he’d nicked. Staring into the jaws of the Karkarodon was worth it for the way her eyes lit up and her full lips parted in surprise. “We’re really going to have to work on your trust skills, Izzy.”
Izzy followed Jules onto the boarding ramp of the hexagonal Avent100 light freighter she’d seen him exiting before.
“Are you sure we’re allowed to be here?” she asked, following him into the lounge area.
“I, uh, know the owner,” he told her, making sure they weren’t followed.
“Lie,” she said.
“Fine, former owner,” he said. “It doesn’t matter. Right now, we have to get in that office and out of here before anyone notices. There’s a shift switch during the first lunch hour.”
“How many lunch hours are there?”
He shrugged and sat beside her. “We like food and the days are long this time of year.”
She was too tense to sit still, drumming her hands on the tops of her thighs. Perspiration ran down her back, and her cheeks were warm. His hair was delightfully rumpled after he got put in that headlock. She thought about how unruly his hair had always been when they were children, while her father did his best to keep hers in tight and even braids. As sweaty and disheveled as he was, she found herself edging closer to him. He did slightly smell like the Karkarodon’s saltwater vapor, but she didn’t mind.
“What happened at Dok’s?” he asked, pressing buttons on the table that he definitely should not be pressing. One of them opened a tray and revealed bottled drinks. Her mouth was dry, so she took a bottle when he offered. It tasted like bubbly flower petals, and she drank half of it before answering.
“He wasn’t there.”
“On one hand, we have some time to fix this. On the other, I’m worried. Dok doesn’t leave the shop unattended. Especially when he’s sent most of his staff on errands.”
“Tap was worried, too.”
He settled into the plush black leather of the couch, one arm outstretched behind her. If she leaned in, she’d be resting her head on his shoulder. She knew she shouldn’t let her guard down. She didn’t give in to her impulse, though every part of her ached and she longed to rest. How was he able to be comfortable at a time like this? She’d forgotten about his ability to fall asleep anywhere. Under a tree even when there were bugs crawling around. Inside the hollow of a petrified tree. On the ground behind their homes when they’d stare at the sky and try to make sense of the moons and stars. He would tell her stories he’d heard from his parents about the ancient ruins that surrounded them. Then he’d fall asleep while she complained about the cold and worried about grass snakes. The memory seemed to unfold itself from the recesses of her mind, where she thought she’d locked it away. Why hadn’t she tried to come back sooner?
“Do I have something on my face?” Jules asked.
She was staring at him. She knew she was staring at him, but it wasn’t for the reason he thought. Though, how could he know the reasons at all? Heat crept up her neck and settled on her cheekbones, something she blamed on all the running around she’d been doing. Otherwise, Izzy would have been forced to admit to herself that she was staring at Julen Rakab not because of his confounding kindness and optimism but because he was, in so many words, beautiful.
“Dust,” she said, and folded her arms across her chest.
“I don’t know, Izzy,” Jules said. “Do you have any idea what’s in the parcel? Maybe we can—”
“If it was something we could replace, Dok wouldn’t have had someone deliver it from another planet.”
He scrutinized her with a stare that was becoming all too familiar. “You don’t know what’s in it, do you?”
“No,” she said. “Part of the job is to not ask questions. Besides, he’s your boss. Do you have any idea?”
Jules sighed. “I don’t know why Dok does anything.”
“Good. That’s settled.” She held her palm out. “Give me the access card. I’ll swap the parcels.”
At that he sat forward. “If you get caught—”
“I won’t.”
“Izzy, it’s dangerous.”
She shrugged a shoulder and kept drinking her sparkly flower drink. She couldn’t read the label, except the words “Flora Wow” in Basic. “You did your part. Besides, I’m smaller. You’re a meter and a half tall.”
“I’m one point eighty-five meters tall and it comes in handy. Sometimes,” he amended with a rueful grin that kick-started her rapid pulse again. She had to get herself under control. All those emotions had screwed her up in the first place. Whatever she was feeling for Jules needed to be shoved in a compartment and sealed shut.
“More of a reason for it to be me. Bring the speeder closer and pray to the spires that it doesn’t stall again.”
“You only get that one shot at my baby, Izzy,” he warned her.
She raised her hands in mock defeat. They didn’t have to wait long for the siren announcing shift change to blare. She left behind the cloak she’d swiped from an open cargo box because they agreed it was conspicuous. Instead, she stripped off her leather jacket and Jules removed his tunic, remaining in a threadbare white T-shirt he’d clearly outgrown seasons before.
She used the bathroom in the ship to splash water on her face and tug on the tunic. It was far too big on her, but when she cinched it with her own belt, it was closer to what the local human workers on the launchpad wore. After tying her hair in a knot, she slipped the card in her pocket and walked off the boarding ramp.
Sometimes, when Izzy was unsure of what to do on a job, she wondered what her mother might do. Ixel Garsea always walked into a room with her head held high. Izzy hadn’t quite managed the same pride that had made her mother appear unapproachable, but as she headed for the office with the pack strapped to her back, walking against the chaos of the shift change, she thought she was getting close.
When she palmed the card against the sensor and the doors slid open, she could finally breathe. The air smelled cold, a mix of chemicals and earthy notes she wasn’t familiar with. Cra
tes and boxes of shipments were stacked in heaps that were less organized than Dok-Ondar’s den. Dok’s at least felt like it had a method to the chaos. Jules had mentioned Ohnaka Transport Solutions was losing business. It was a wonder anything could be found let alone delivered.
She crept through the place, eyes darting from wooden crate to metallic crate. She cursed herself for not marking her parcel somehow, but she was certain she could identify it among the others. First she needed to find it. She lifted a stack of furry pelts that shimmered like an oil slick in the rain. With the back of her hand she caressed one, and it was the softest thing she’d ever touched. She knew of no creature it could be from, but her curiosity was piqued. Perhaps when she got out of there she could go in search of one.
Barrels of brew took up a corner. The items there didn’t look like they were meant to be shipped at all. Most of the boxes were open. She looked in one and found some sort of round gold coins. Her eyes followed the boxes up. Far out of her reach, there it was: the briefcase with the square keypad at the center. Far too high for her to reach. She grumbled. Jules wouldn’t even have had to stretch for it. She decided she would not tell him about this part. All she needed was something to stand on. The crate she was able to move got her within centimeters of the briefcase handle. She jumped and her hand folded around it. Then she repeated the motion to place the correct briefcase. Sweat poured between her shoulder blades and down her breast, but she had it. With her heart racing, she shoved the crate back and turned to go.
Noise came from the other side of the door. She could hear Lee’s rough voice. The memory of her sharp teeth flashed into Izzy’s mind. If she’d been able to practically put Jules in a headlock, what would she do to Izzy?
There was nowhere to hide. Besides, what if Lee could smell Izzy? Did that heightened sense translate on land or only underwater? She didn’t have time to debate that, and knew there was only one place safe enough to hide. Lifting half the shimmering pelts, she burrowed between them, staying as flat as she could. She felt a little smug knowing Jules would have been too long to hide in the same spot. But as she tugged the briefcase in with her, her sweaty hand slipped. The case fell to the floor just as the doors whooshed open.
“Blast!” Lee shouted, only a fraction of her slapping webbed feet visible from where Izzy was. “I’m losing my mind. Where is my access card? Thank Karkari I remembered the override codes.”
A pair of heavy brown boots and a flatbed cart followed closely behind Lee. “Where am I going?” said a woman with a smooth alto voice.
Lee’s growl made Izzy’s body clench. She was glad she’d relieved herself in the Avent100’s restroom. “Do you smell that?”
“I dunno. Did someone clean?”
Izzy would have snorted if she hadn’t been holding her breath. She squeezed her eyes shut, as if that would make her invisible. The pelts were bulky enough, she reminded herself. There was not a single part of her sticking out. Her lungs burned, and despite all the liquid she’d drunk, her mouth felt like she’d been chewing on sand. The slap of feet approached, and she felt the weight above her lighten.
Only just.
She could hear Lee inhale deeply. “Urusida skin reminds me of home. It’s all the fish they eat.”
“You can smell that?” the other woman asked incredulously.
“Delicate humans,” Lee muttered.
“Where am I going, again?”
“Shipments to Corellia on the right, Clak’dor on the left,” Lee said.
“But I’m supposed to—”
“I know, you’re supposed to have the week off. Orin quitting was…unexpected,” Lee said. “I’ll talk to Hondo about giving you a bonus, how’s that?”
There was a moment’s pause. Izzy would have jumped at the chance, but she understood not wanting to seem too eager. Then the woman replied, “Clak’dor, you said?”
“Thank you for being a team player, Delta Jeet,” the Karkarodon said, like she was reciting from a script. “Ohnaka Transport Solutions is fortunate to have you.”
The slap of feet departed. Izzy breathed slowly, desperately wanting to sneeze. She wiggled her arm toward her face and rubbed her nose. All she had to do was wait for this Delta woman to leave and she’d be free. She hoped Jules would stay put. She wouldn’t put it past him to come and find her. But they had a plan.
Delta loaded the crates and parcels for her delivery. Izzy slowly pushed up the barest edge of the pelt. Her parcel was still there on the ground.
Then a set of brown hands grabbed it and added it to the stack going off-world. Corellia and Clak’dor. Izzy wished she could scream the number of obscenities she’d learned across the galaxy. She had only one shot at the element of surprise. Summoning every bit of courage, every bit of strength she could, she wrapped her hand around her blaster pistol and sat up. The furs tumbled to the ground.
Izzy took aim, and as Delta spun around, Izzy pulled the trigger.
Jules knew something had gone wrong when Izzy stepped out of the office with her blaster in hand. He’d been keeping the protocol droid from going into the room to look for Lee.
“Master Jules,” G1-MD said, “I have repeated that everything is in order. I must be going to find Madam Lee at once. The cargo freighter to Corellia has not been loaded yet.”
“There she is,” Jules pointed to the other end of the landing pad, where Lee was surrounded by angry pilots. Was there something in the water making everyone irate?
His eyes widened at Izzy as she holstered her weapon and climbed into the speeder.
“What happened?” He jumped into the cockpit behind the wheel, and she cradled the rucksack against her chest. He powered up the speeder. It jostled and shook for an agonizing moment. He smoothed his fingers along the dash and whispered, “No, no, no, baby, don’t do this to me, please.”
“Do you know a Delta Jeet?” Izzy asked.
“I’ve seen her pop arms out of their sockets when she finds someone’s cheated at the sabacc tables.”
Great. Good, she thought. “I shot her.”
“You what?”
“She’s alive. It was set to stun.”
He wondered if that had been a happy accident or if Izzy always kept her blaster on that setting.
“If I don’t get us out of here, we’re dead,” he said.
“Not yet we aren’t,” Izzy said, and slammed her fist on the dash.
“Easy, will you?” But whether it was his gentle words or Izzy’s punch, his speeder charged out of the hangar, leaving a trail of dust in its wake.
They didn’t speak for a few moments. He gripped the wheel and let his heart rate come down to a pace that allowed him to breathe. She had her arms around the bag but was staring at him. There were bits of shimmering hair on her face. What exactly had happened in there?
He took a sharp turn down a pedestrian road. He never would have done it if they weren’t in a hurry. “We have to get to Dok’s. Something—”
They were engulfed by a swell of people spilling from the market. Many were shouting at each other. He caught curses in Huttese and Twi’leki.
“What’s happening?” Izzy said. She shoved the pack under her seat and out of sight.
He pushed himself up on the top of his speeder, leaning on the glass. He’d heard about riots in the Outpost before, when rival gangs and crews would spill from the Galma vicinity into the ports. The crowd was divided into groups. One was the stream of traffic trying to get out of the way, carrying baskets of fruit and the day’s supplies in netted bags over their shoulders. The eopie he’d seen earlier in the day was even more skittish, and the mother had chosen to hold the child instead of risk having her thrown from the saddle.
Then there were two groups shouting at each other. He wasn’t sure why until he heard the words clearly. “Give yourself to the First Order! Restore the rule of law across the galaxy!”
The group shouting that was small—men and some women dressed in simple farmer garb. Jules was shocked to re
cognize two of them: Dok’s assistant and runner who had vanished. The reason Jules had been called in that morning. He’d never truly known them. Both were orphans who’d wound up on the streets of the Outpost searching for work where they could find it. He watched their lips pull back in snarls, their eyes narrowed with certainty. It was like they’d been searching for a purpose and someone had given it to them.
“Jules, don’t,” Izzy said, tugging on his sleeve.
He could sense the anger thick in the air. Those who were trying to mill through the crowd kept their heads down. Many of the vendors gathered around though. Some threw pebbles—nothing large enough that it would hurt anyone, but so many that it was like being surrounded by summer spire flies.
“Get off the street, you!” a slender blue-skinned Twi’lek shouted.
“You’re chasing away our customers!” a round baker woman screamed, making herself hoarse.
“Batuu is a wasteland of criminals and misrule! Gangsters rob your streets and—” one of the young boys shouted, but the back and forth increased, morphing into a dense buzz that drowned him out.
It was the sound of marching that silenced everyone. They came from the shadows of the spires, moving in perfect rows, white armor gleaming under shining suns and long shadows cutting stripes across them as they moved. They said nothing. There weren’t even any officers with them. But they stood their ground, forming a protective barrier around the small group of fanatics.
Slowly, the opposing crowds dispersed and all Jules could hear was “Batuu is a wasteland—” But he recognized some of the few who didn’t leave, who stared back into the dark eyes of those terrifying helmets.
He didn’t even notice at first when Izzy hopped out of the speeder to stand in front of him. “Jules,” she said, and repeated it until he focused on her eyes, flecked with lichen gold.
They couldn’t stay there, but the way forward was blocked by the stormtroopers. He quickly backed up, but that way was barred by the overflow of traffic. There was only one way out.
A Crash of Fate Page 11