A Crash of Fate

by Zoraida Cordova

  “I can already see your heartbreak coming from ten klicks away,” Fawn said, nodding his head to a beat only he seemed to be able to hear.

  Neelo washed the tip-yip down with the rest of Jules’s drink. “You always do this, mate. You trip over off-worlders who leave you in the dust.”

  Jules didn’t have to listen to that, but he sat there anyway. “Name one ex—”

  “Fawn’s cousin visiting from Coruscant three years ago,” Neelo said, starting to count on his fingers.

  “I genuinely liked her music,” Jules shrugged.

  “The smuggler from Onderon,” Fawn said, cocking an eyebrow. “Jali—”

  Jules rubbed his hands across his face, then winced when he pressed too hard on his nose. “Anjali. And I was just giving her directions.”

  “Yeah, to your safe,” Neelo snorted.

  “That’s enough,” Jules said. It was difficult to relive his own bad decisions, but his friends were mirrors he could not escape.

  “Don’t forget that senator’s daughter from Naboo.”

  How could he forget? If he recalled correctly, they’d run out of fuel and stopped on Batuu for what amounted to hours. Jules had been working the stall for Kat, and the senator’s daughter wanted to buy the colorful popped grains. He’d been so taken by her beauty, the glamour of her bronze dress and the way her ropes of dark hair were braided. He had been sure that it was love at first sight—so sure, in fact, that he’d forgotten to charge her. He’d needed to work extra hours to repay Kat for the sale. He never got her name.

  “You’re all making me sound like a lovesick idiot,” Jules said.

  Neelo and Fawn traded looks that said it was exactly what they thought of him.

  “It’s not like that,” he explained. Putting the words together meant admitting things he wasn’t ready to. Instead, he said, “Izzy was my first friend. She used to live next door to me. Yeah, it was a long time ago, but you don’t forget someone you used to spend every day with.”

  “I don’t remember her,” Fawn said.

  “Her family left before you two came here. It doesn’t matter. I haven’t seen her since and I’m showing her around the Outpost. That’s it.”

  Neelo nodded along to his words. “You say that, but you haven’t stopped looking at the entrance since she left.”

  “You didn’t take her to the wishing tree, did you?” Fawn winced.

  Jules wanted to ask Cookie to beat him senseless with that tip-yip-covered spatula. “I won’t say that I did.”

  “He totally did!” Neelo laughed.

  “Look, you’re going to do the Jules thing,” Fawn said.

  “What does that even mean?” he asked incredulously.

  “You know. The gestures and honesty. That’s who you are. Just look after yourself once in a while.”

  Jules knew, deep down, that they were right. As they prepared to leave, he met their extended hands for a quick good-bye.

  “Good runs, mate. And don’t forget about the show,” Neelo reminded him.

  “I’ll be there,” Jules shouted to them across the hangar.

  He picked up a piece of fried tip-yip and dipped it into the fiery sauce that came with it. He glanced at Izzy’s empty seat, then the entrance once again. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something had scared her. She’d taken her pack. What if she needed help?

  He got up, ready to go look for her, but then thought about what his friends had said and forced himself back into his seat. He had to trust that the Force itself had brought them together that day. And he had to trust that if she wanted to return on her own, she would.

  But then minutes had crawled by and he’d finished his entire plate, and there was still no sign of Izzy Garsea.

  She muttered a string of curses as she walked away from Jules and his friends. Her entire body flashed hot with rage, then sadness, then back to anger. Out of all the planets in the galaxy, Ana Tolla and her crew had to be on Batuu. Izzy wanted to find a plot to bury her own body in. She couldn’t see them again. She crept along the greasy walls of the hangar, keeping her head down. She’d always wanted a cloak, and in that moment it would have been useful for hiding herself as she stepped out into the courtyard.

  She wasn’t going to leave Jules, but she needed to breathe. What were they doing there? She thought of the job they’d left to do the night before. Had they been on Batuu all along, or stopped somewhere else on the way?

  “It doesn’t matter,” she muttered to herself. “They’re here and they can’t know you’re here.”

  The last thing she wanted was for Damar to think she had been following him. She felt queasy at the thought of him, the way she’d let him whisper stupid promises in her ear. She hated what her morning with Jules was turning into because she was a coward and decided to hide.

  She climbed into a bricked-in courtyard and pressed her body against a tree when she noticed Neelo and Fawn leaving the hangar.

  Then a hand clapped over her mouth and pulled her into the dark shadow between the wall and the tree trunk. Izzy threw her elbow back and reached for her blaster.

  “Easy,” came a familiar voice, and the hand released her.

  Izzy whirled around to face Ana Tolla, whose red rope of hair rested over her shoulder like a serpent. Izzy kept her hands at her sides, where she could best grab her blaster. Though Ana Tolla kept her arms raised showing she meant no harm, Izzy wasn’t ready to let her guard down.

  “What do you want?”

  “I’d wondered if you’d seen us,” Ana Tolla said. She leaned casually against the wall and smirked. “You didn’t have to hide.”

  “I’m not hiding,” Izzy said, hating how petulant she sounded. Of course she was hiding. “You just happen to be the last faces in the galaxy I want to see.”

  Ana Tolla glanced down at her nails. “That’s not how Damar tells it.”

  “What do you want?” Izzy asked again, indignant.

  “About a million credits and a small moon where I can work on my tan,” she said, then chuckled darkly. “But for now, I want to know why you followed us here. No one knew my instructions, unless of course you want to tell me if someone in my crew felt sympathetic enough to give you their location.”

  “You mean Damar? Please.” Izzy scoffed. “I’m here on my own business.”

  Ana raised a thin red brow. “I’m sorry about how things went down. You were—well, you had your uses, but you don’t have what it takes for this line of work.”

  “You went out of your way to come and insult me,” Izzy said. She walked her fingers through the air. “Feel free to keep moving as far away from me as possible.”

  “I went out of my way to ask for a truce.”

  “Rest assured, I didn’t come here looking for you.”

  “I know that at least. Your self-preservation skills rival my own.”

  Izzy wanted to scream. “I’m nothing like you.”

  “You’d be better off if you were,” Ana Tolla purred. “Do we have an agreement? Stay out of my way and I’ll stay out of yours.”

  Izzy glanced at the people walking past them. It was so easy to go unseen around that place. No one seemed to spare a second glance for the two young women in the shadows.

  “I don’t care what you do or why you’re here,” Izzy said, steel in her words.

  “That farm boy you were with. What’s his story?”

  Izzy’s body flashed hot. “Why?”

  Ana’s sharp eyebrows arched. She crossed her arms and had the nerve to look bored. “Curiosity.”

  She’d been around the crew leader long enough to know that Ana Tolla never took interest in someone lightly. She had a motive behind everything. Ana could keep Damar. But Jules—he was off the table. It took all Izzy’s strength to swallow the anger that burned through her. She knew she couldn’t stop Ana Tolla and the others from doing their job, but she could make Jules sound less appealing to them.

  “He’s just a stupid farm boy who’s never going to get of
f this rock,” Izzy said, hating the words even as she spoke them. “He’s no one.”

  “You came all this way to tumble a farm boy?” Ana Tolla said, needling her. “Damar really isn’t worth all that.”

  This time, Izzy flashed a smile she’d seen her mother give—one that dared someone to fight her. “Stay out of my way and I’ll stay out of yours.”

  “Maybe I was wrong about you, Izzy.” Ana Tolla pushed herself off the wall and shouldered past. “Though I hope our paths never cross again, for your sake.”

  Izzy pressed her hands on the trunk of the tree until she stopped shaking. If Ana Tolla was on Batuu, it couldn’t mean anything good. You don’t have what it takes for this line of work. The happy reunion with Jules had to be cut short. Her own disappointment shouldn’t have surprised her. But her fear of running into Ana Tolla again was stronger. Izzy had to get off-world and as far away as possible. She’d have to make up an excuse to Jules and hope he’d understand. After a few moments, she returned to Cookie’s. Ana Tolla and the others were gone. Good, she thought.

  She spotted Jules chatting with the chef. Slowly, she made her way back to him, going over how she’d say good-bye this time. Her heart gave a painful squeeze at every idea. But she knew it was for the best.

  The best for who? She thought. Jules or you? He wouldn’t care. He had a good life. Izzy was just another straggler passing through. He’d forget her in a few days’ time.

  It’s been thirteen years, and he still remembered you, her restless mind answered.

  “Hey,” she said, and when he turned to face her, she could swear he looked relieved. It felt good to know that he cared about what happened to her.

  “How goes, Izzy?”

  His smile shouldn’t wreck her so badly. A part of her wanted to reach out and twirl a finger in an errant curl that flopped over his forehead. She wanted to rest a hand on his broad shoulder and—what? Congratulate him?

  You came all this way to tumble a farm boy? Curse Ana Tolla for putting that thought in her head. Though she’d be lying if she said it hadn’t crossed her mind already, if just for a flash.

  Before she could blurt out her string of excuses, Cookie came up to the counter in front of them.

  “You haven’t eaten your tip-yip,” he said in a low grumble.

  She picked up a piece of the flaky fried meat and dipped it in the red sauce. It was delicious, even cold. She realized she’d hardly eaten since the day before. Satisfied with her reaction, Cookie moved on to another customer trying to grab his attention. She owed Jules an explanation. Something.

  He watched her patiently. Maybe it was the food or the warmth radiating from the grill, but she felt settled once again. No, when she finished consuming her meal and looked up at him, she knew it was being with Jules that calmed her. She dragged out the moment and let herself sink into the easy comfort of his presence. He evoked soft, beautiful lines. She felt like blaster fire and chaos, even if the chaos was all in her head.

  That made it all the more difficult to say, “I have to go.”

  He stuck out a thumb toward the entrance of the hangar. “The restrooms are past the courtyard.”

  “I meant leave,” she said, biting back the laugh. “I have to go to Dok’s and drop this off.”

  He leaned on the counter and moved closer to her. She was suddenly very thirsty and grabbed for the moof juice. It was pleasantly sweet and creamy.

  “What are you running from, Izzy?” he asked.

  She wasn’t prepared for his dark eyes to be so intense. But she squared her shoulders and shoved her doubt deep down where it couldn’t resurface. “My boss needs me. This parcel isn’t going to deliver itself.”

  “Lie.” He wagged a finger at her, his grin a bit smug. “I’m glad I can still tell when you’re lying.”

  Izzy was affronted, mostly because she didn’t think she was so transparent. She’d cultivated her lies throughout the years, learned how to calm the pitch of her voice when she was in trouble. She was a solid pilot and an average shot, but until that moment she’d considered herself a great liar.

  “I’m insulted,” she said.

  “I’m insulted that you think I wouldn’t know.” He leaned on his elbow. Though he wasn’t angry, a fraction of hurt crossed his eyes. She didn’t want to put that there. “You don’t have to tell me, but I’m not here to judge you, Izzy.”

  Why was he so infuriatingly patient? It would be easier to walk away from him if he was—more like Damar.

  Izzy inhaled deeply, then relented. “I saw someone I recognized.”

  “Bad breakup? Wait, no. A bookie. Your old professor who gave you demerits. Don’t tell me, I’m great at this game.”

  None of it was funny, and yet she couldn’t help laughing.

  “I can keep going.”

  “You can stop because you already guessed it.”

  His brown eyes searched her face. “Professor?”

  “Bad breakup. Pretty much the worst one of my life.” Not that she had much experience in that department. She’d had a boyfriend in her Galactic Politics course when she’d been at the academy, before she’d dropped out. But that had ended when she’d met his parents, who didn’t care for an orphan girl with no social standing or any aspirations of become a politician’s wife.

  “Huh,” Jules said. He crossed and uncrossed his arms, avoiding direct eye contact. It was endearing watching him try to keep his calm. It was the most reserved and quiet he’d been all morning, which meant that he was teeming with questions. “I guess I really am great at this game.”

  “It caught me off guard.”

  His knee bounced in place as he scanned the hangar’s late breakfast crowd. “Is he trying to win you back?”

  “He’s definitely not here to win me back.”

  “Then he’s an idiot.” He finally smiled again.

  If she didn’t know any better, she’d think he was jealous. She wanted to reach out to him just then but kept her hands firmly on her own knees.

  “I’m curious, Izzy,” he said. “Why else would you both have ended up in the same outpost if he wasn’t looking for you?”

  “He’s with my old crew. I wasn’t privy to the job they’re working, though.”

  “Wait,” he said. “Is that why you came here? Running away?”

  “No! I’m doing exactly what I came here to do. Deliver a package, get paid, and get out.”

  There was that hurt look again. She regretted it the instant she said it, but it was too late to take back. She cut her gaze to a small boy at the other end of the hangar chasing a feathered creature and shouting, “Here, tip-yip!” At least Cookie’s food was fresh, she thought, before turning back to Jules. As much as she hated to be the cause of that wounded look that had flashed across his face, she didn’t want to stick around and run into Ana Tolla’s crew again. Then she had a thought….No, he’d never do it. Would he?

  “Come with me,” she said.

  It was worth it to see his lips part from utter surprise. “What?”

  “You said you wanted to leave. I can take you anywhere,” she said, her skin growing hot as she spoke. She quickly remembered that her ship had only one cabin, because the other was full of junk to keep the cargo bay clear. Tumble. Farm boy. She needed to stop those thoughts. How had they gone from talking about their childhood to this?

  “I can’t,” he said.

  Her relief rivaled her disillusionment. Of course, she didn’t think he would actually do it. She thought of the little boy he’d been, playing with rocks and calling them ships. The boy who never left. There was something keeping Jules on Batuu, and she wished to know what. Would he tell her?

  “It was just a silly thought. Forget I said it.” She gulped the rest of her drink.

  “It’s forgotten. Come. I’ll walk you back.”

  They paid and bid Cookie good-bye. As they stepped into the sunny morning, she shielded her eyes with her palm. Jules pulled the white-and-blue scarf from his neck and off
ered it to her. It felt like a peace offering, and she draped it over her head, then threw one end over her shoulder.

  The scarf itself had a sweet scent, like sharp grass and nectar and something uniquely Jules. She had never given a second thought to what anyone smelled like, except “pleasant” or “unbearable.” She couldn’t even think of what Damar smelled like. The chemicals of his hair product, perhaps. Why was Jules different?

  You know why, stupid, she thought as they walked the uneven path back to the filling station.

  Jules had turned down her offer. The crew that had abandoned her not a full day before was too close for her to relax. Part of her wanted to crawl into her quarters on the Meridian and hide. But why should she be the one to hide? She hadn’t done anything except trust the wrong person. She was stronger than this. She had to be.

  “You know, I could send someone to take care of him,” Jules said. “Just say the word. Oga’s is always filled with guns for hire, or we could take a stroll through Smuggler’s Alley.”

  She barked a laugh. “I know we haven’t seen each other in a long time, but I highly doubt that you’re capable of having someone murdered.”

  He grinned and somehow managed to look innocent despite the subject matter. “I never said anything about murder. I’m saying one of Bina’s shipments of juniper bugs could wind up in his bed. They’re not carnivorous, but they itch like crazy.”

  She shook her head but brushed her shoulder against his. “That’s what I get for not listening to my mother.”

  “What did your mother say?” Jules asked.

  She could feel the heat of his stare, but she wasn’t ready to look into his eyes just yet. Izzy ran her fingers along the soft edge of the scarf. “She told me the only person you can trust is yourself.”

  He frowned. “That’s a lonely way to live, Izzy.”

  “What would you know about it?”

  “I know that one scoundrel isn’t worth rejecting the trust of the entire galaxy. Trust is a skill, and if you only have it in yourself then you aren’t even trying.”

  “You don’t know what happened,” she snapped.