Karr fully expected to look back at Maize and see her rolling her eyes again, but she didn’t. She looked at him instead and said, “Let’s go find your Jedi!”
Once the gang was refreshed with water and cheese and a weirdly flavored soda that Maize had insisted on trying—and then immediately dumped out—they all headed back to the ship to plan a new course. Karr’s headache was all but gone, replaced with excitement. Somewhere on Jakku he would surely find more Jedi artifacts. It was like the Force itself was guiding him! But when he said so out loud to Maize, her enthusiasm began to wane.
“Maybe. If we’re lucky.”
But he wasn’t in the mood for any pessimism. “I know we don’t have much to go on, but any lead is better than no lead—and I’m going to follow this one. My grandmother was right. Practice and persistence pay off. I’m getting better at this.”
The droid agreed. “It’s true, sir. And I’m saying that as a high-ranking member of the medical field.”
Karr laughed at the droid’s attempt at humor. “I’m pretty excited about how well that last trip went.”
They emerged from the shadow of the sinkhole and returned to the Avadora, which was waiting for them right where they’d left it. It was a little warm inside from sitting out in the sun, but Maize started up the life-support systems and got the temperature down in a matter of moments. She found the coordinates for Jakku and began to program them into the ship’s navicomputer.
“Everybody buckle up. We’ll clear the atmosphere, hit orbit, and then make the jump to hyperspace—so we can get a few hours of sleep. It’s past our bedtime already, and it’ll be a while before we get where we’re going.”
Karr checked the ship’s console data. “It’s past our bedtime?”
“Uh-huh. It’s past mine, anyway. I don’t know about you, but I could use a nap.”
“Does this thing have”—he looked around—“living quarters?”
“It has a couple of pullout beds and a facility for washroom business. That’s about it. This isn’t a long-haul passenger transport. It’s meant to be comfortable and fast. It’s not meant for weeks of space time. Arzee?”
“Yes, madam?”
“You’ll keep watch for us, won’t you?”
“Absolutely. Get some rest, and I’ll finish configuring my pilot protocols so I can fly the ship. If I must. Without assistance. For emergency purposes, you understand. Should you or Karr become incapacitated.”
While RZ-7 made the jump to hyperspace, the kids tucked into their respective sleeping nooks and the lights dimmed. Karr hadn’t even realized how tired he was, but it’d been a busy day. Maybe he should contact his parents and let them know he was all right. Maybe they didn’t deserve to know just yet. Maybe they could worry, and that would teach them something about packing up their children and shipping them off to the far side of their home planet against their will.
“For my own good,” he muttered.
“What?”
“Sorry. Just talking to myself.”
With a yawn, Maize said, “That’s silly. I’m right here. You could talk to me.”
“About what?”
“Tell me…tell me a bedtime story,” she said with another yawn, or it might’ve been a sigh. “Tell me about your grandmother. She sounded nice.”
“She was nice. She’s the one who told me what my abilities are, and she helped me learn about them. She taught me how to go about controlling them.”
Maize giggled. “Are you sure she was qualified? I mean,” she added fast, before he could object, “how bad were your visions before she started teaching you? Because I’ve seen a couple of them now, and they look awful.”
“They’re not awful. Okay, they’re kind of awful. But it was worse when I didn’t know what caused them, or what they meant, or how I could avoid them. Trust me, Grandma was the first to admit she didn’t have the Force, but she believed in it. She wished she had it. And maybe she wasn’t the most likely tutor, either, but she cared about it. Cared about me. Even though I possessed something she never would. Sometimes I think that’s more important, because she didn’t take it for granted. And when she saw it in me, she did her best to help me reach my potential.” Karr paused. He hadn’t expected to reveal so much, but Maize had that effect on him. “Anyway, she also made me the gloves, and that helped a lot. Someday, I hope I can get good enough to feel things and understand them clearly without the headaches and fainting.”
“And your grandmother thought you could? Someday?”
He nodded, even though Maize couldn’t see him in the dark. He said, “She always believed in me. More than my parents ever did.”
“I know how that feels.”
“Yeah?”
“Well, sort of. My dad’s gone all the time, and I don’t think my mom is very interested in me.”
“What makes you think your mom isn’t interested in you?”
“I don’t know,” she said sleepily. “I think she believes I have more in common with my dad than I do with her. That there’s a natural bond between us that she’ll”—she yawned—“never have.”
“Is that true?”
She turned her body away from him and faced the wall. “Who can tell? He’s never around long enough to find out.”
“That’s funny, because you and your mom look so much alike I would’ve guessed you have more in common with her.”
“How do you know what my mom looks like?” she asked, turning her neck to look at him.
“There were some holos in your house. You’re the spitting image of her. Minus the tattoos, of course.”
Maize groaned and turned away again. “Ugh. Don’t get me started on the tattoos.”
“Why not?”
“Because that’s all she ever wants to talk about. She comes from this very…let’s say traditional family with some strong opinions about Mirialan customs.”
“Which involve getting tattoos?”
“Yeah. It usually happens after you’ve completed a certain”—she yawned again—“task or…achievement or…something.” Karr could hear her drifting off. “Just more status symbols if you ask me. That’s all she cares about. I told her I wasn’t interested, but that if I ever did decide to get one it would only be on half my face, since I’m only…half…Mirialan.”
The words barely escaped her lips before they were replaced by snores.
Karr smiled. If someone had told him a week before that he’d be running away with a weird rich girl from another world, he wouldn’t have believed them. But there he was—scared, excited, and worn-out—almost entirely because of her. And he wouldn’t have it any other way.
“Wanna hear more about my grandma?” he said jokingly to no one. And though no one answered, he decided to think about her anyway.
“What do you mean I’m supposed to clear my mind?” fifteen-year-old Karr asked his grandmother curiously. “Isn’t that a bad thing? I mean, why am I going to school if it’s better to have an empty brain?”
J’Hara had been winding a ball of yarn when their conversation began, and now she was using it to explain meditation to him. “The brain is like a sponge, Karr. It can absorb a lot,” she said as she squeezed the blue mound of dyed bantha fur. “But sometimes it becomes too saturated with superfluous things.”
Karr wondered if he had just cleared the part of his brain that knew what superfluous meant. Off his look she added, “Unnecessary. Frivolous. Unimportant.”
“Like how fast the Incom T-85 X-wing can go?”
“Exactly. But by clearing your mind, by quieting your thoughts, you allow your brain to open up and become receptive to things you didn’t even know were out there.”
“Like the Force,” he said, less as a question and more as proof of his eagerness.
“Like the Force,” she repeated with a smile. “Shall we try it together?”
Karr nodded as his grandmother joined him on the floor, crossing her legs as a silent suggestion for him to duplicate.
&nb
sp; “Is this how the Jedi meditate?” he asked.
“People can meditate in all sorts of ways, but yes, I’d say there’s a good chance the Jedi approached it this way. Now let us close our mouths and open our minds.”
Karr sat next to her in the same position and watched as she closed her eyes and rested her hands on her knees. She took a deep breath and let it out. Karr did the same.
After a few seconds of silence, Karr said, “It’s tough not thinking of anything.”
He looked to her for a response, but there was none.
The two remained in silence for another beat.
“I can’t help thinking I should have gotten a pillow to sit on.”
Without opening her eyes, J’Hara whispered, “If you feel regret, you are living in the past. If you spend your time worrying, you are living in the future. Try to be in the moment. In the here and now.”
Karr closed his eyes again.
After another few seconds he asked, “Where am I living if I’m hungry?”
J’Hara exhaled as if she was giving up.
“I’m sorry,” Karr said, noticing his grandmother’s frustration. “I keep trying to be open, to think about the Force, but all I keep seeing is what I think lightsaber battles would look like.”
“You’ll get there,” she said wearily. “Just…keep practicing. Practice and persistence pay off.”
“I will.” Then, as if the idea to ask for guidance just struck him, he asked, “Grandma, what do you think of when you think of the Force?”
The older woman looked at him with surprise, and then he watched as her gaze went inward. A tear rolled down her cheek. “It’s best not to think of anything. Free your mind,” she said. “The Force is not something you can hold on to. It’s something that flows to you, through you…and away from you.”
He didn’t remember falling asleep, and he was very confused when a pillow hit him upside the head.
“Get up, already. You’ve slept long enough, and we’re almost to Jakku.”
“What?” Groggily, Karr pulled himself out of bed. “I mean, ready when you are, Captain.”
“I like that. Keep calling me that,” she said with a smile.
“I’m gonna.”
When the Avadora dropped out of hyperspace, a message popped up in the ship’s communication log. Maize saw it, pulled it up, and then deleted it almost immediately—before Karr could even see what it was.
“What was that?” he asked. “Was it important?”
“Nope. Just my mom.”
“Is she mad?”
She shrugged. “Who cares?”
“What did she say?”
“Other than ‘Maize, what do you think you’re doing?’…I don’t know, and I don’t care. That’s why I cut it off. She’ll be fine,” she said with a flap of her hand. “She’s always fine. She’ll go get a new pair of shoes and forget all about me. I’m surprised she hasn’t done it already.”
“She’s your mother.”
“That doesn’t mean she cares,” she said, her mouth set in a hard line. Then, to change the subject, “Look, there’s the old Hutt outpost the Utai mentioned.”
He hurried over to the viewport like he could see the outpost from space. “Niima?”
She showed him a holographic map. “Right here.” She indicated a few dots on a desert sprawl. “I hope my language skills are as good as I pretend they are at school.”
“What? I thought you spoke Huttese.”
“I speak a little bit of very rude Huttese, but I hope I won’t need it. Let’s park this bird and see what’s going on down there.”
A short time later, they stepped into the blast furnace of a stark, beige world of sand. The wind blew hard and hot, dragging small grains into their eyes, their clothes, and in RZ-7’s case—his joints and circuitry.
The droid observed, “This is…less than ideal, sir.”
The sky was a vivid pale blue, so bright it was almost white above them—and the heat was dry but persistent. Karr practically felt his eyeballs shriveling as he stood there. Maize didn’t look too much happier, and the droid was doing his best to keep from appearing miserable. “How far are we from the outpost?”
Maize squinted down at her handheld map/comm device. “It’s right over there.”
“That’s a sand dune.”
“On the other side of it, then. Come on. The sooner we find it, the sooner we can get out of here. This place is no fun.”
“It’s a desert.”
“Yeah, exactly. There’s not much to do in a desert. Not much that’s fun, anyway.” She wrapped a light scarf around her face to keep out the tiny, needling grains of sand and led the way forward, trudging against the wind.
Karr and RZ-7 fell in line behind her, neither one prepared to argue.
Maize’s map was right, and on the far side of the sand, a small settlement was nestled in the shelter of a crescent-shaped dune. It consisted of a handful of buildings, a smattering of marketplace shops and stalls, an awning-covered blockhouse that looked like the center of operations, and a large Hutt-style gate that announced, yes, this was a town—and furthermore, everyone should beware of entering it on anything less than business, with anything less than polite manners.
“It’s definitely Hutt,” Karr said.
But Maize was staring down at her datapad, to which she’d downloaded all the information on the settlement she could find. “Says here it used to be Hutt, and now it’s not. Hutts set up shop before the Battle of Jakku, but it doesn’t look like they stuck around very long.” She lifted her eyes and looked around, but seeing nothing to snag her attention, she looked back down again. “Supposedly there’s a lot of old weaponry—and ships and things left over from the battle. People salvage that stuff for a living.”
“I don’t see any.”
“I saw some downed Star Destroyers when we entered the atmosphere. Those ships alone must keep the scavengers busy.”
“You figure they would’ve picked them clean by now.”
She shook her head. “Clearly not. If they got everything, nobody would be here anymore. Nobody stays anywhere if there isn’t any money.”
He elbowed her. “Hey, look over there.”
“At the junkyard?”
“Yeah. Look at those giant tarps. I wonder what’s underneath them.”
“If I had to guess I’d probably say…junk.”
“Funny. I’m going to guess…ships.” He stepped past her, into the lead. “Let’s see what’s down there. With your knowledge of Huttese and my knowledge of the Jedi…we’ll find out about the legendary Skywalker as quick as a Teek on a shopping spree.”
RZ-7 mustered enough enthusiasm to say, “Yes, perhaps we’ll be back on board the ship and into the cool, sand-free void of space before we know it!”
Karr said, “You two are killing me.”
And maybe it was true, but they followed him anyway—down the dune, past the blocky gate that announced NIIMA OUTPOST, and into what passed for a town square.
It was more of an oval than a square, really, and not terribly well populated. A handful of merchants sold strange bugs grilled on sticks; others offered the local version of ale or a thick, dark liquor that smelled like death in a cup. The whole place felt fleeting and temporary, like no one actually lived there on purpose—and no one wanted to stay there any longer than was absolutely necessary.
The blockhouse squatted thick and plain at the center. The droid made a beeline for it.
“Arzee, where are you going? I want to get a look at what’s under those tarps!” Something at the back of his mind kept telling him the ships were important.
“If I may suggest an alternative, sir…let’s visit the fellow in charge of what’s under those tarps. This is a junkyard, and you had such marvelous luck in the junk shop…let’s see if your luck holds. Also, if we go to the trouble to introduce ourselves, there’s less of a chance we’ll be shot on sight for trespassing. If, in fact, this settlement is managed by
the Hutts.”
Maize said, “I told you, it’s not. Not anymore.”
“All the more reason to tread carefully,” said the droid. “Do you really want to anger anyone who sent the Hutts packing?”
“Good point, Arzee,” Karr said. “All right, let’s visit the man in charge.”
“Or the woman in charge.”
“Yes, Captain. Or the woman in charge.”
Karr and Maize stood side by side in the shadow of the Hutt gate, crossing their fingers and working up their courage while the pretend medical droid sauntered toward the blockhouse, and whatever fortune waited within it.
A short line had formed outside the blockhouse. Karr, Maize, and RZ-7 joined it. The others were mostly human, with a few Teedos scattered about, and all of them had the ragged, secondhand look of folks who scavenged for a meager living. Most carried armloads of metal scraps pulled from ships that had crashed and burned more than a generation before. Everyone looked hot, hungry, and broke.
“Um, excuse me,” Karr said, in an effort to engage a tall, thin man who’d joined the line behind them. “Could you tell me…what’s this line for, exactly?”
“We’re all here to see the blobfish,” he said, low and quiet.
Maize turned around and asked, “The blobfish?”
The man said, “Shhh! It’s not his name. Unkar Plutt, that’s him. You’re in his town now.”
“Is he a Hutt?” she wanted to know.
He shook his head. “No, all the Hutts are long gone.”
“Is that good or bad?” She craned her neck to see around the people in front of her.
“Take your pick. It’s about the same either way.”
When the gang got closer to the front of the line, they learned three things: One, the scavengers were mostly queuing up to swap their findings for small food packets. Two, Unkar Plutt was a cheapskate. Three, there was a reason everyone called him the blobfish.
He was big and wide like a Hutt, but the resemblance mostly ended there. The junk boss of Jakku was a Crolute—a humanoid species that was much more likely to be comfortable in a wet environment than living on a desert planet. His limbs were thick and doughy, and his face was flat and saggy. He looked like he’d be happiest sitting on a log in a boggy marsh—or better yet, underneath one.
Journey to Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker Page 7