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.”
Dok’s voice was tinged with anger. Jules tried to imagine what it must feel like for someone like Dok to suddenly be powerless. Stuck, with nowhere to go. How many felt that way and didn’t have the power and freedom the Ithorian had. When he was finished, Jules translated.
“One of his former assistants came to confront him,” Jules said. “In the name of the First Order.”
“For what?” Izzy asked.
“For contributing to the corruption of Batuu. He was convinced that killing Dok would somehow put an end to it. He was going to shoot him but lost his nerve. Dok fought back, but Calin caught him off guard. He shoved Dok in there and took off.”
“Did you know him?” Izzy asked.
Jules shook his head. “Not well. You saw him though, when we got stuck in the street blockade. You have to get your assassin droid fixed, Dok.”
Dok let out a surprising laugh and agreed with Jules.
“I took care of everything while you were gone,” Tap assured his boss, holding his hand against his chest. “Didn’t I, Jules?”
But Dok was rattling off more instructions. Jules paused and turned to Izzy. Her dark hair was wind-tossed around her face, her bright eyes looking expectant as she waited for him to speak. Once again, he didn’t want to say the words. This time, it was because it meant their day was drawing to a close. So far, he didn’t see a reason for her to want to stay longer. He hadn’t given her the dazzling tour of the Outpost he’d promised.
“Dok apologizes for keeping you. It was unexpected, and he conducts better business than this. He has your payment.”
“Unexpected is one way of putting it,” she said, and her smile devastated him. She took off her pack and removed the briefcase. “But at least it got to its destination.”
“He says the parcel was procured for a client. That if you’re in a hurry to leave you can go. You did your part.”
Dok kept speaking, oblivious that Jules was trying to gather enough courage to say good-bye to Izzy once again. There were things he wanted to tell her. Maybe the reason he couldn’t was because the day’s events kept getting in the way, sending them running from one end of the Outpost to the other to save their skins.
Then he turned to Dok, not sure he’d heard him correctly. “You want me to take this?”
Dok hated repeating himself, and Jules cursed himself internally.
“Right, no,” Jules said. “I’m your guy, Dok.”
“Wait,” Izzy said. “Respectfully, Dok-Ondar, if the job isn’t finished, I will get it done. I’m not leaving until then.”
Jules was too relieved to smile. “He said, suit yourself.”
Why hadn’t she taken the opportunity to leave? She had excellent reasons to go. Salju would have finished with the Meridian by then. The parcel was at Dok’s. Delta Jeet might be looking for her still. Then there was her word to Ana Tolla that they’d stay out of each other’s way. She’d just discovered a truth about her mother’s past she wasn’t certain how to deal with. She hadn’t rested or had time to think. But she had found one reason to stay, even if it was for just a little while longer. She wasn’t ready to say good-bye to Jules.
The added bonus was that she might make a good impression on Dok-Ondar in case she found herself coming back to Batuu.…He looked exactly as he had the one time she saw him as a girl, and she wondered what an Ithorian’s life span was. For a moment, she wanted to ask him if he’d also known her mother. But she closed herself to that possibility. There was no time for the complicated feelings that would bring. What good would it do? She couldn’t talk to her dead parents about it.
Back in the front of the shop, Dok retrieved a datapad. It was an old model that had been modified from other parts. Everything could be used again on Batuu. Izzy and Jules flanked him to look. Dok had also marked that place on his canvas map. He tapped coordinates on the glowing screen and warbled more
information.
“The drop is here at suns-set?” Jules translated, as if he wasn’t sure he’d heard right. “There’s nothing there. Not even farms. There’s only a bunch of rocks.”
Dok scoffed a reply.
“I know rocks are not nothing. I mean, why can’t they come to the Outpost?”
Izzy shrugged. “Maybe they don’t have a transport or their speeder is stalled. You know what that’s like.”
He balked at her teasing, and Dok chortled but didn’t speak again.
As they prepared to leave, Izzy considered where they were going. A suns-set drop-off for some hermit living in a cave somewhere on the outskirts of Batuu? Her gut told her there was more to Dok’s client. There had to be. She no longer knew the typical machinations of life at Black Spire, but as she went over the day’s events, there was one major difference from when she was a child, and that was the presence of the First Order. Why recruit on a planet that was only a refueling stop for most and a place to hide for others? Though clearly the assistant Calin and others had been taken in. Still, she couldn’t help thinking that perhaps the real reason the First Order was on Batuu was because the Resistance was, too.
Who was she that she should even care? An orphan. The daughter of a bounty hunter, apparently. Someone trying to get by. You don’t have a name.
She thought of Cookie’s bitter anger when he’d been serving them. Of Oga’s hurry to sniff out what might threaten her control over her small kingdom. Of the apprentice who had shaken with hate disguised as purpose. That thought led to another.
What was her purpose? Right then, it was to finish the delivery. And spend a bit more time with Jules. She watched him pull on his red canvas jacket and finger-comb his dark curls.
“You know I never ask you for favors, Dok,” Jules said, “but can you put in a call to Delta and sort things out?”
Izzy crossed her arms and watched Jules try to unravel himself from that one. She’d known Dok for about an hour and could already tell what the answer would be. Dok held up one of his long fingers, his brown skin peppered with dark sunspots, gesticulating his protest.
“Yes, I know it’s a problem we made,” Jules said. “Yes, I know I shouldn’t have set Bina’s creatures loose. Yes, that is my tunic Izzy is wearing.”
“I was undercover,” Izzy blurted out, but she felt her face grow hot. The Ithorian made a wheezy sound. Was that a laugh?
“I just mean that as long as Delta might be on the warpath, we can’t stick around the Outpost. Unless you want us camping out here until the meet.”
“You could wear masks,” Tap suggested, going back to polishing metal ornaments. Dok gave a dismissive wave of his hands before making his way back up to his desk.
She was about to suggest that they could try to get back to her ship to have a conversation that wouldn’t be interrupted by her seeing her old crew or riots or pets on the loose. But Jules snapped his fingers, a curious smile on his face.
“I have an idea.”
She wasn’t sure how, but she suspected what he would say.
“Home.”
She knew exactly where he meant. Was she allowed to call it home still? She could conjure the image of her old house right away, even though she hadn’t seen it in so long. If she was going to revisit it with anyone, she wanted it to be Jules. Besides, no one would look for them there.
When she stepped out the door, she almost wished she was standing in front of Delta Jeet or a furious Volt instead of the person she found standing there.
“Hello, starflower,” Damar said.
There was a time when she’d thought her life would shape up differently. Perhaps if her parents hadn’t been killed, or if she’d been the kind of girl who worried about her studies enough to stay enrolled in the academy. That girl wanted to explore ancient ruins like her father had before he became a farmer. But she was gone. Replaced with—well—whoever Izzy Garsea was becoming after a series of bad choices and worse luck.
She felt the doors to Dok’s den shutting behind her and Jules standing beside her. Part of her wanted to be alone if she was going to have to speak to Damar. The other part—the petty, selfish part that made up too much of her being—was glad Jules was at her side. It was not to cause Damar jealousy, though the way his gray eyes took in Jules’s considerable size did please her. It was because with Jules there, she had a reason to keep walking away.
Damar anticipated her direction and stepped in front of her.
“What?” she asked.
“Don’t be like that, Iz,” Damar said, extending his arms dramatically. He liked to think that there were always eyes on him, and hadn’t she been one of his many admirers only a day before? “If you’re mad about Actlyon City, I know you’re a good shot. I wouldn’t have left if I thought you couldn’t take care of yourself.”
She felt Jules move beside her, but she caught his eye. This was her problem to deal with.
“You must be the farm boy I’ve heard so much about,” Damar said, extending a hand, which Jules did not accept. She bit down hard, her mouth dry at the thought of Damar repeating the words she had said to Ana Tolla. The only reason she’d said those things about Jules was because she’d wanted to discourage Ana Tolla’s interest in him.
“Julen,” he said, not giving his nickname to Damar.
Her fingers twitched like they had a consciousness of their own, wanting to reach for her weapon. When she’d been a girl, her mother had always slept with her blaster beneath her pillow, and when Izzy had asked why, she’d said, “The same reason you sleep with your stuffed bantha, darling.” Those words held new meaning.
“Ana Tolla and I had an agreement,” she said. “Stay out of each other’s way.”
“About that…” His smile was twisted, beautiful—cruel. “I convinced the others that we acted too rashly.”
She laughed. “Did you?”
“I did. Ana Tolla sent me to ask you to come back.”
Izzy crossed her arms over her chest. She recalled her conversation with Ana Tolla that morning. Then she’d seen the woman skulking in Smuggler’s Alley before Oga’s men had picked them up. What had changed since they’d spoken?
“I’m surprised Ana would take a job she couldn’t see through,” she said, lowering her gaze. She bit her lip and chanced a look at Damar.
He seemed delighted. “You see? It was all Safwan’s fault. Went and got himself trampled by the riots earlier.” Damar smoothed the front of his fine shirt, picking off a green leaf that had the misfortune of landing on his shoulder. “I told Ana you’d be perfect. You too, Jupen.”
“Julen.” His voice was dark, almost hurt when he turned to her. “You’re not considering this, are you?”
Of course she wasn’t. But she wanted to know what they were planning. Oga Garra had believed Izzy was looking to make deals with the locals. Had she confused her with Ana Tolla? Maybe not—there were plenty of young women new to the Outpost. But Izzy also knew Ana well enough to know that her jobs usually required a local or two.
“I’m going to have to pass,” Izzy said, and shrugged. She enjoyed the way Damar had swallowed his pride. No doubt he hadn’t wanted to be the one to come get her. But Ana Tolla’s word was their personal law. Perhaps Izzy did have lucky stars on her side, because the only person she had to answer to was herself. And, well, Dok-Ondar at the moment.
Damar held his hands up, a thread of panic lacing his voice. “I don’t think you understand what kind of payout we’re talking about. It’s more than whatever drop-off you’ve got going on. You’ve been here all morning, and all you’ve managed to do is run around with the fa—” He considered Jules. Damar was tall but slender, and she knew quite well how useless he was in a fight that didn’t involve blasters. “Julen.”
“If it’s so much money, why couldn’t you find someone in Smuggler’s Alley earlier?” she asked, and looked at her nails. There was dirt under them, just like there used to be under her father’s. Even when they’d left the
planet, he couldn’t get them clean for weeks. But not her mother. Her hands were always clean. “Let me guess. No one in town will take a job that might mean upsetting the Outpost boss.”
Damar scowled but recovered quickly. He scratched his temple, the glittering gem on that finger nearly blinding her when it caught the light. “You know, Izzy. I’m a little bit hurt that you’re over me so soon.”
That was low, even for him. “What did you think I was going to do? Cry over you for six moons and send you holos if I got lonely in the middle of the night?”
He grinned, exposing a sharp canine. “I thought our time together would take you longer to get over than a single night of sleep. But I always knew you were a little bit ruthless.”
She leaned forward, her mouth forming a smile she did not feel in her heart. “You think too highly of yourself, Damar. The answer is no.”
“Perhaps now,” he said, resting a hand on her shoulder. She was surprised to find that it made her sad…until he finished: “But eventually you’ll change your mind.”
“I won’t.”
“I’m certain of one thing when it comes to you, and it is that you loathe being alone.”
She wrapped her hand around her blaster. “Leave.”
Damar waved and started to walk away. “Oh, and, Julen,” he said, training a finger at Jules’s head like the barrel of a blaster. “Make sure you take her somewhere nice to celebrate.”
A spike of anger drove through her, and she drew her pistol. The shot burned a spot on the ground at Damar’s feet. His electric gray eyes were all that much brighter with rage. He muttered a curse they couldn’t quite hear as he ran. Though a few vendors had looked up at the sound of the blast, they lost interest in a blink.
Jules turned on Izzy. “I have more than a couple of questions, Izzy, but maybe we can talk about why you keep shooting at people.”
She holstered her blaster and shrugged. Her mother wouldn’t have missed on purpose. Would she? “Jules, I’m sorry—”
“You don’t have to explain anything to me.”
But they stayed there in the shadow of the tree behind Dok’s den for a moment longer.
A Crash of Fate Page 14
