#Shyakill

[beaconsardis]

A Princess of Cantonica

A hologram of a Crolute in brightly colored, loose fitting and flowing robes at my console. His name is Shyakill. He looks uncomfortable and he hasn't figured out what to do with his hands. He weaves his fingers together and then separates them, drops them to his side and then picks them up and puts them on his hips.

Like the Mon Calamari, Crolutes are an aquatic species, but unlike the Mon Calamari, they have not quite adapted to life on land. It makes the poor things all look uncomfortable in their own skin.

"You have the princess?" His voice is deep and full of gravel.

I nod. "I do."

"Let me see her then." He eyes me suspiciously.

I lean back and motion for Humaira to be brought forward. I have our biggest, bulkiest, most intimating crew member shove her into view. Mawlo, a Gran whose parents were too small moons, looms over Humaira. She glares at him and then straightens her posture, fixing her hair the best she can with hands bound together at the wrists. The Cantonican constable looks her up and down.

"How do I know she's not a . . . you know . . . changeling of some sort?" His eyes shift from me to Humaira and back to me again. "I've heard your kind has one on every crew."

I give him my most disarming shrug. "You're just going to have to trust me."

"Bah!" Shyakill coughs a single, throaty laugh.

I already don't like this guy so it's easy to feign annoyance. "I don't really have the time for this. If you're not interested, I'll sell her to a brothel on Ryloth. It's less pay but it's on the way to my next gig and I won't have to jump through whatever hoops you're putting up."

"No, no." Shyakill holds up a hand. "That won't be necessary. You have to excuse my paranoia. One can't be too careful these days." He picks up a datapad and begins tapping at it. "Here are the coordinates for the landing pad and here are the security codes."

My datapad reports the transmission has been received. I give a nod to the constable. "We are in enroute."

The small hologram of the constable withers away.

"I hate that man," Humaira recoils.

Bomba looks at me from the other side of the console. "Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"I'm not sure where it ranks in the History of Bad Ideas," I say as a stand, "but it's easily my worst."

We descend down to the Seocanto, the planet's capitol city. The outskirts of the city are a lined with factories, belching fire and flame. Once you punch through the smoke and the steam, you're treated to a loud and garish color palette. Everything is bright and bold and flashing to you get your attention, as if the city itself is trying to sell you something.

Humaira becomes more and more uncomfortable, more and more restless the further we go in. I pilot the Nexu towards one of the royal palace's landing pads. Our security codes check out and we are allowed to land.

The ramp descends. Fordsy takes the princess by the arm and leads her down. I casually follow behind, making a show of double-checking that both my lightsaber and blaster pistol are at my side.

The Crolute is waiting for us, flanked by armed guards in gray and white. He sees us and holds up a finger. "No, no," he says. "No weapons. And leave the droid. You come alone. Just you and the girl."

It's my turn to let a single burst of a laugh. "No. The droid goes everywhere I do. He's unarmed. He's just here to keep an eye on the princess while the grown-ups do some business."

"Drop the blaster pistol." He points at my holster.

I look at Shyakill. I look past him, to his contingent of guards, and then back to him. I unholster my A-180 blaster pistol. I set it on the ground. I think about asking him to remove his guards, or at least have them fall back, but he hasn't noticed or made mention of my lightsaber and I like it that he thinks he's in control of the situation.

"There," I say, holding my hands wide, "now we can be friends."

"We are not friends," the constable barks. "Bring her here."

"We're not friends?" I signal Fordsy to stay where he is. "If we're not friends, then you're going to transfer the money to my account before she takes a single step in your direction."

Shyakill turns and one of the guards in the back steps forward with a case. He takes the case, sets it on the ground, and kicks it. It slides across the durasteel and comes to a stop halfway between me and him.

"Meet me halfway," he says with a laugh.

He didn't let me see what was in the case before he sent it my way. I don't like that. Anything or nothing could be in that case. I don't detect deceit in the air, so I reluctantly give Fordsy my consent.

Fordsy prods Humaira to start walking. Humaira doesn't look back. She's laser focused on the constable and the destiny he represents for her. Fordsy stops her when they reach the case. Fordsy places his foot on the case and with a single thrust, sends the case directly at me.

I open the latched grey box. I don't count the individual credits but, at a glance, they all appear to be there. I look back up to see Shyakill with Humaira's chin in his hand. He's turning her head this way and that, inspecting her.

He chuckles. "Yeah, that's her. You can't manufacture spite like that. Alright, let's go."

The guards take Humaira. It's the first time she looks back at me. She's trying to stay neutral in this, but I can clearly see "this had better work" in her eyes.

"Your services are no longer needed," Constable Shyakill says, waving me off. "May our paths never cross again."

Fordsy joins me and we retreat back to the ship. Bomba meets us on the ramp.

"We got a problem," he says. "The engine's not doing the thing it's supposed to be doing."

"And what's that?"

"The thing where it starts and lets us take off?"

As if on cue, the Nexu coughs and sputters in a way to suggest it's shutting down, not starting up. I nod. It doesn't sound good.

"They're working on it," says Bomba, "but if I was a betting Dug-"

"Which you are," I interrupt.

"I wouldn't bet on us leaving any time soon."

"Alright," I pick up my blaster pistol and holster it. "Let me know as soon as we're ready."

I sit down on the ramp and wait. Bomba goes back in side and Fordsy follows him, case of credits in hand. This is all for show. We don't know what the Cantonicans can hear or see, but it's hard to imagine them not having every square inch of the planet monitored and surveilled.

I pull a deck of cards out of my pocket and begin playing sabacc solitaire there on the ramp. It doesn't take long, only about half a hand, for a guard to approach.

"You can't park here," she says.

I apologize and "we had some business with the constable earlier and now our crikking engines won't start."

She doesn't know how to respond so explains, "we need this landing pad clear."

I return to my card game. "We'll get out your hair as fast as we can."

"Now," she says.

"I don't know what to tell ya'," I don't take my eyes off the card game. I let the grumbling, sputtering engines of the Nexu explain things for me.

The guard frowns, about faces, and quickly retreats. She's going to get reinforcements, maybe her commanding officer. They will return here, repeating everything she just said. Our ship will continue to be broken. They'll give us until the top of the hour. They'll threaten to blow our ship into scrap. They'll be back at the top of the hour, threatening to have us towed. I'll draw it out as long as possible, but in the end, they'll call a tow service.

We have maybe an hour. I check the time. I check the skies.

"Anything?" I ask into my commlink.

"Not yet," Fordsy relays.

I start a new game of sabacc and everything plays out exactly as I thought it would. The guard returns with her commanding officer and I explain everything to her that I explained to the first guard. I apologize profusely but also play it like I don't understand why they're so upset. These things happen.

The commanding officer checks the time. "You have until the top of the hour to get this piece of junk off my landing pad or I'm blowing it into oblivion. Not even the scrappers will be able to put two pieces of it together. This is your only warning."

It escalated faster than I was expecting but we're still about where I thought we would be. We just have less time on the long end of things.

I try to go back to my card game but I can't focus. I keep checking the time. I keep wondering what's happening to Humaira. I go from imagining them torturing her to imagining them making her presentable to the queens of Bonadan.

Three minutes are left in the hour when my commlink crackles to life. "Here they come!"

I look up. Descending in a gentle arc around the palace is an ostentatious royal starship. The golden ship bears the intricate Bonadan royal insignia on its belly. The deep maroon of the seal looks like blood.

I can see the commanding officer exiting the palace, glaring in our direction. The Nexu's engines roar to life. I cheer and gather my cards. The commanding officer still looks annoyed, but she gives me a satisfied nod of approval. I give her a wave, stick my cards in my pocket, and climb the ramp back inside.

"Fordsy! Get us airborne and track that ship!"

As we slowly lift off, the landing pad on the other side of the palace becomes visible. I grab my quadnoculars and zoom in. Two columns of guards ceremoniously lead the constable to the Bonadan ship. Humaira follows him in a black dress. They've dressed her to look remorseful. They want her to be a supplicant. I laugh.

Fordsy takes us up above the clouds. I make my way to the back of the ship. One of the modifications Fordsy and I made was to the cargo bay. Where there should be a cargo lift, we installed a bomb hatch and an armament of tow cables.

"The Bonadan ship is in the air," Fordsy reports over the comms.

"Get us out of range of the palace guns," I command, taking position over the bomb hatch.

Mawlo pushes into the cargo bay, followed by Liittii, Zola, and Xil. They look like kids on Boonta's Eve, barely able to contain their excitement.

"You'd do this for free, wouldn't?" I ask with a smirk.

"I mean," Xil Vee shrugs, "the money certainly helps." The small Ardennian juggles his three blaster pistols between his four hands, checking each one's charge. "But I get to jump out of starships and bork stuff up? And I get paid to do it? Life don't get better than this."

The rest of the group laugh in agreement. The ship lurches and we grab something to balance ourselves.

"Here we go!" Fordsy calls. We break through the clouds, barreling down on the unsuspecting starship.

"I don't have to tell you this-"

"But you will anyway." Liittii shoots a sarcastic grin at me.

"We're gonna have to be quick."

"Hey, it's become something of a specialty of ours." Xil quips nonchalantly.

"Something goes sideways," I say seriously, "that ground is going to come at your fast. Get down there, grab what you can, get back up here."

"This girl must be something special," Liittii says. The orange Twi'lek looks at me mischievously as she ties her lekku behind her head.

I open my mouth to defend myself but the bomb bay door opens. The blast of wind that hits us, followed by the roar of the starship below us, makes any attempts at communication beyond hand gestures futile.

The tow cables fire, grabbing onto the hull of the Bonadan starship. They latch onto the tow cables and with a shout and a cheer, slide down. I jump down after them, using the Force to slow my descent and guide my landing.

The wind pushes and shoves me. When I don't fall over or trip, it claws at me, grabbing me, trying to pull me over. I stand against it. I feel it coming, hitting me in constant, unending barrage. Behind me my crew holds onto their tow cables.

I raise my hand. First I hold it flat. I feel the Force surging through me. It feels as though I'm collecting it, absorbing it, the wind being the unwitting conduit for my power. With a slow and deliberate twist of my wrist, I slice through the wind. I don't block it, I don't stop it, I tell it to go around me -- and the Force wills it so.

Mawlo sees it first. He lets go of his tow cable and stands up straight. Liittii, Zola, and Xil follow suit. They now exist in a world with no wind. I see the marvel in their eyes. No matter how many times they see the Force at work, they can never get over it.

They detach the tow cables. Mawlo opens the emergency hatch and they drop in. I release the wind and it shoves me back. I fly down the length of the starship, using the Force to push me down into the emergency hatch when I'm over it.

I drop into the middle of a firefight. It's no surprise a royal cruiser is heavily guarded. The cacophony of blaster bolts pauses at the snap-hiss of my lightsaber. Long enough for my crew to take a couple of well-placed shots and for me to throw myself down the corridor.

"A distress call has gone out," Fordsy reports over the comm.

The ship banks sharply to port. I don't know what the pilot is trying to do. Are they trying to make our life more difficult? Are they taking us back to the Cantonican palace?

A human with an undercut of purple hair bursts out of the cockpit -- the co-pilot, I guess. He fires on me. The Force guides my hands and I deflect his shots, sending them harmlessly into the bulkhead. He panics, backing away as he continues to squeeze off shots that I bat away.

I'm not particularly interesting in killing the co-pilot. He looks young. I can imagine his excitement to being assigned to co-pilot the royal starship. I see him telling his friends, his loved ones.

"Kid," I say, "stop."

He backs into the cabin door. He shoots at me again. I swat the bolt back at him, doing my best to arc my blade downward. The shot goes into his leg. He grunts in pain. His pistol clatters to the floor as he falls over.

"Where's the princess?" I ask.

The co-pilot is reach for his blaster pistol. His finger tips are just barely touching it. He's gritting his teeth. A slight whimper breaks through. I step on the pistol and slide it completely out of reach.

"Kid," I bend down, "I'm not here to kill you. We're here for the princess. Ain't nobody gonna hold this against you. You did your duty. You can't help it you were boarded by the Dread Jedi Pirate Captain Sardis."

"Crew quarters," he finally says. "Starboard side. It's locked."

"Think I'll manage."

I walk away. I don't give him back his gun, but I don't take it away either. I've given him a scar and a story. He won't have to buy himself a drink ever again.

I find the crew quarters. I slice through the door. Humaira is waiting on the other side of the door.

"See?" I say, "I told you this would work."

The starship is suddenly and violently rocked. I catch Humaira as I fall back against the corridor wall.

"What was that!?" I yell into my commlink.

"Palace guns," Bomba says, "seems they've decided if they can't have the princess, no one can."

I swear under my breath. "Get back to the ship," I command.

They're already climbing the escape hatch. They pause at the hatch itself, though. They need the tow cables to be fired back down. They'll each clip on to their own cable and then will be reeled back up.

The starship rocks again. Alarm sounds start blaring. I look back down the corridor, to the cockpit. They're doomed. The Cantonicans are going to blow them out of the sky. If I save them, the royal courts will assume they were in on this plot and they'll be executed.

I swear again.

"Firing tow cables," Fordsy says. "Make it fast people!"

The tow cables ch-thunk against the hull. Mawlo leads the way out. This is the most dangerous part. All they have to do is clip on to a tow cable. The ship takes another hit. Over the commlink, I hear Bomba swear.

If the Bonadan starship goes down, it's going to take the Nexu with it.

Everyone's out. I'm heading up the ladder with Humaira directly beneath me when we take another hit. The pilot of the Bonadan ship jerks the ship to port, which in turn jerks the Nexu, twisting it off course. The two ships are now spinning in opposite directions, in a dual tailspin, each spinning the other faster and faster.

I hear Xil Vee scream. I leap out of the hatch. My entire crew is airborne, flung from the ship. They're still arcing upwards and outwards, they haven't started to fall yet. Before they can, I plant myself in the Force.

I lash out at them, grabbing them in midair. They stare back at me, eyes wide and mouths agape. I feel my feet sliding down the hull. It's too much. I'm not going to be able to hold them. The centrifugal force is about to knock me down.

I reach down, to the planet itself. The Force flows through and from every living thing and I need as much help as I can get. But this planet is not alive. There are people below, but they're swallowed up in a tangle of durasteel, rubber, and plastic. All I have is what I carry with me.

I try to block out everything around me. I try to ignore the precious position I'm in. I do my best to only let the lives of my crew occupy my mind. They're reaching out to me. The Force within them wants them to live. It's desperate for me to pull them in. I connect with it and through it, them. I just need them close enough to grab the tow cables.

I'm lightheaded. But they're too far away. They're going to fall.

The ship suddenly rights itself. We're still flying, the wind is still pushing me, but we've escaped the death spin we were in. It's just enough relief for me to train my entire focus on getting my crew back on the ship. They scramble across the hull, not wasting any time clipping onto their tow cables.

As they're reeled back aboard the Nexu, I turn back to the escape hatch. I don't see Humaira. Sliding over to it, I look down the ladder and she isn't there. I'm about to go down after her when she suddenly appears, running up to the ladder and pulling herself up.

"Where'd you go?"

"Someone had to save your ass!" Humaira shouts back.

She had been the pilot to pull us out of the spin. I marvel at her pulling her up and out of the ship.

"I bet you look at all the girls like that," Humaira smirks.

"I don't," I say, clipping her onto the last remaining tow cable. "I really don't.

I grab onto the tow cable and it detaches. We swing through the air as Fordsy pulls us away from the other ship. For the briefest of moments, I see myself as if in a holovid, tow cable in one hand, Humaira in the other. Ten year-old me would not believe it. It's something out of the myths and fables. I'm pulled back to the present as the Bonadan ship is struck by another blast from the palace guns. A plume of smoke bursts out from its underbelly.

I'm exhausted. I just want to get out of here. But I know what I have to do.

I release my grip of the tow cable. I hear Humaira shout in surprise, then the wind is whipping past me and I can hear nothing else. I close my eyes. I listen for and then to the palace's guns firing. Their shots sizzle through the air. I see them. They're below me, coming up fast.

I cushion my landing and ignite my lightsaber. The gunners yell and fall back, going for their weapons. I slice and chop through the palace's cannon and then fling myself down the parapet. I sling my lightsaber through the air and it connects with the next cannon before I do. I snap the lightsaber back into my hand. I turn and leap away before the gunners are able to respond.

The Bonadan pilots will live to fly another day. No king or queen or commanding officer could possibly blame them or hold them accountable for this happening.

I land outside the palace and stumble into a crowd. I'm too tired to run. My feet are heavy. My shoulders burn. It hurts to breathe. My entire body aches.

"Beacon?" Bomba says into my commlink. "You still there?"

I nod before remembering he can't see me. "Yeah. I'm still here."

Not two blocks from the palace I find a cafe. There are chairs and tables outside. I collapse into one of the chairs. I can't move. If I have to buy food to stay sitting here, that's fine, because I'm not going anywhere.

"That was the stupidest thing you've ever done," he says.

I can't argue with him so I don't argue with him. If I can't convince myself that my stupid feelings and morals are going to get me killed some day, I'm not going to get into a shouting match with a Dug.

"But," I reason, "we got the bounty, we got a small haul, and we got ourselves a pilot."

Across the street a musician begins singing a space shanty. It becomes the soundtrack of my dreams, a swirling, murky mélange of fearful memories and hopeful futures.

I wake up with Bomba's hideous face in mine.

"Wakey-wakey poodoo," he smirks.

I'm still groggy. My head is swimming. Fordsy appears and takes me by the arm.

"Let's get you back to the ship," he says.

They lead me to a docking bag. Bomba reports they've found me. We all meet back at the ship. Everyone's standing outside, looking at me. They're shaking their heads. They can't believe I'm alive.

"That was wild!" Xil Vee erupts. "Absolutely wild! Is there anything you can't do? I don't think there is!"

"How long was I out?" I ask.

"It has been thirteen and a half hours since the dramatic rescue of Princess Humaira," Fordsy responds.

Liittii pulls me aside. "That was the most thrilling thing I've ever been a part of," and then leans closer to whisper, "maybe a little too thrilling, if we could dial it back a notch . . ."

I clap her on the shoulder, telling her I agree. Then I turn to the rest of the crew. I see Fordsy.

"You," I say, legitimately momentarily blanking on my oldest friend's name, "divide the bounty evenly amongst the crew. We're not sharing a credit. They've earned it."

I hear my speech slurring. I need to lay down. The crew cheers. As I stumble towards the ramp, I grab Fordsy by the shoulder, both for stability and to pull him closer.

"Give 'em my cut too," I whisper.

Fordsy's head tilts to the side. "Are you sure?"

I nod. I'm happy with today's outcome, but it was too risky. I endangered the crew to a degree that I am not comfortable with. It would have been too easy to lose everyone today. Fordsy nods back. The droid understands.

"Where we headed next?" Mawlo calls.

"I don't know about you," I begin up the ramp of our ship, "but I'm going straight to bed."

I'm actually headed straight for the floor. My head is swimming, stuck in a whirlpool that is spinning everything around me.

I do not remember what happens next, but according to my entire crew, Humaira grabs me, catches me, and steadies me. My arm is around her neck. Her hand is on my chest. "How about you," I ask her. "Where are you headed?"

"I'm going wherever you're going."

"Well I'm going to bed."

"Lead the way."

I don't hear what she's saying, so I say, "we'll find you a room. I'm sure-"

Humaira cuts me off. "I'll just use yours."

That's what they say and who am I to argue? What happens next clearly suggests they're telling the truth. Save for one feeling, it's all a blur to me.

All I can remember is feeling like I had found something I didn't know I was looking for but had always needed.