HELLO ALL!

Thanks for sticking with the story so far. I'm doing my best to keep posting on a semi-regular basis, so if this weekly to bi-weekly schedule is okay for you, let me know! It's been great to see so many of you stopping by. If there are things you're loving or questions you have, share 'em in the comments below! I try to respond as soon as I see 'em. I look forward to getting to know y'all during this process!

May The Force Be With You,

R

By the time the others show up for the race, Jess has figured out how to pull off our new move. He's innocently polishing the wings of the ship while I lay blankets near the starting line for the spectators. As each couple lands their speeders, we begin to congregate around the mouth of the cave.

A flash of wild copper hair-Jess's sister, Mell-bolts towards me. Her partner, Nix, with his dark hair and skin and deep set eyes, is right behind her. They've only been sharing a compound for a few weeks, and even though we're only a few cycles ahead of them, that sweet first period of Jess and I's partnership feels a millenia away. What was bright and new has become well-worn and comforting, what was all nerves and stardust has become as familiar as the fertile ground beneath our feet. Jess and I fly together, yet our hearts are firmly planted in the ground of our home planet.

Mell is all brightness and laughter and tumbling headfirst towards life. She spins me around, taller than I am, built long and athletic like her brother. "Mara!" She shouts. "Ready to watch our men go head to head?"

"Ready to watch mine win," I reply jokingly.

Mell jestures to Jess. "This guy? I think he has a better future as a protocol droid than as a pilot."

Jess laughs, his violet eyes shining, and he captures his sister with his arms, messing with her hair. "You talk an awful big game for a girl whose droid once called her its closest companion."

Mell playfully elbows her brother, and he lets her go. She shrugs and smiles at me. "Who am I kidding? Droids make the best friends."

"And what am I? Shaak meat?" Nix chimes from behind his partner. Mell rolls her eyes and sweeps Nix close to herself, kissing him on the cheek.

A bell rings, and Nix and Jess bound toward one of the ships, mounted by Lim, who's become an unofficial emcee for the games. He's one of the oldest among our group of young farmers, not yet greying but in the twilight of his youth. His partner, Jael, steps up beside me, their dark-haired daughter napping in her arms.

"Alright, gentlemen," Lim bellows, "We all know the rules. Three laps around the track, first across the line, wins. No canons, no excessive contact, and even though I know it's impossible, no lightspeed. Standings of last week's races put Tass, Jo-Bal and Gravian in the next race."

My heart jumps and I meet eyes with Jess as he pivots towards the X-Wing. What if something goes wrong, and he slams into a boulder-or worse-one of the other ships? What if Lim and the others start asking too many questions about how we-how he-figured it out?

I take a breath. There chances of Jess using the new techniques in the race are slim, still, there's a reason we-he-learned them.

"Off to chase them down?" Jael asks, snapping me out of the storm in my head.

"I prefer to watch the first few from here," I say, after a laugh. "Everyone else gets so excited, and by the third or fourth race, there's more space to steer a landspeeder."

"It's the little ones," Jael says, stroking her daughter's hair, "They have the attention span of a ship at hyperspeed." I watch her dark eyes search mine. "When will it be time for you and Jess to...make your homestead bigger?"

Something catches in my throat, but I smile at Jael and the race begins, mercifully, with the penetrating noise of the ships as they dart into the distance. Partners and little brothers and children go buzzing towards them in landspeeders far too small and slow to catch up for long, but with an excitement to see their favorite racer pull out a win. The air, a flurry of noise as air tosses around us, suddenly stills when the racers round a boulder and become distant on the horizon.

Jess wins the first race with ease, as it was made up of the lowest scorers from the week prior. The second race is won with a little more cunning, as he dips to the side of the lone tie fighter and goes vertical with his ship along the edge of a boulder before pulling into first and winning a surprising victory. By the time the sun has begun to set, many of the families have made their way home that couldn't keep their eyes on the events-but a strong band still remains, waiting breathlessly for the final round of races.

I am sharing the last bits of a packed lunch of spicy steamed mouraan over saltgrain with Mell when Lim makes a loud, warm call to the remaining racers-Jess, an older racer and civil war vet named Carth, and Gor-menn Teil, one of the handful of men who raced the tie fighter and a tough competitor. Gor-menn is dangerously tall, a Duros with emerald green skin and large, red eyes. His family settled on Trikkan before I was born, refugees of Imperial takeover who kept to themselves. He is tough and smart and has yet to lose a race.

Jess turns to me, waves, and bounds towards his ship. I can tell he's excited, ready to win. Mell makes a sisterly comment that hints at her confidence in her brother though it sounds dismissive. I hold my breath.

The race begins, and the three ships are off, faster than any landspeeder could achieve even at its highest speed. Mell nudges me as I watch the the trio disappear into the twinkling darkness of the saltgrain fields.

"C'mon, Mara." She hops onto her feet and strides towards our landspeeder. "Let's see sweet Jess take down these guys."

I linger behind her, but eventually catch up. She gets in the passenger seat before I can.

"You drive. You can keep up."

I slink into the pilot's seat, aware that seeming too comfortable with a landspeeder can make me look like a dangerous woman. There's a constant thread in conversations among partners at the races that we only use the speeders in emergencies. Mell proudly announces that she flies hers every day. I don't usually say anything.

"I think we're too far behind."

Mell laughs. "No, you don't."

No, I don't. I know that lingering just draws attention, so I suck in air and punch it.

We're going the opposite direction of the course, starting at the finish line and looking for lights beyond our own headlights. Wild insects dance up from the saltgrain as we run over their home, letting out tinny, scratching calls. The wind whips our hair back and forth, copper curls and blond streaks dancing around our heads. And then, there they are, three twinkling sets of wings on the horizon, and I'm slowing down. Jess seems to only be paces ahead of Carth, but Gor-menn has positioned himself parallel to both, free of the x-wing fray and creeping towards first place.

I begin to breathe again, slowing down the speeder as they draw nearer. I can see a cadre of landspeeders behind them, watching, and know that it's time to turn around. The ships are going faster now, dangerously fast.

"Hurry up or we're gonna miss 'em!" Mell shouts.

"We won't be able to see them anyways!" I shout back.

"Like death we will. C'mon, Mara." She says this as though she's reading my own thoughts. I let out a laugh that is one part nerves and another part amazement. And then I hit reverse.

We're flying backwards through blackness now, eyes locked on Jess, Carth, and Gor-menn, the three ships locked with Jess now trapped in the middle. In between glances behind me, I watch for Jess to move forward. To do something. To do what I don't need or want to do but what comes so naturally. To fly.

We've backed into a free space near the finish line and I pull the landspeeder to a stop. Mell is screaming Jess's name. I start to scream, too. The crowd of farmers and fielders, wrapped up in the final moments of the final race of the season, joins in a dissonant, noisy, living chorus, shouting the names of their heroes.

It's in this moment that Jess clicks skyward, pivots the x-wing, circles around the fray and pulls into first.

The people of the landlocked planet lose their minds. They've never seen anything like this moment, and as the racers lower their ships to the natural platform, fielders swarm Jess with delighted screams. Mell and Nix are flailing towards their brother, Mell a head taller than the other girls and able to reach across and knock him on the shoulder. Lim is laughing, passing mauraanian ale to the losers. Carth is shaking his head and laughing, too. Gor-menn is quiet, his red eyes watching the scene unfold in silence.

We drink ourselves silly, Jess and I barely able to exchange a few words before getting swept up into the lively stories of this group or that around this fire or that. There's dancing. There's music. Those who don't have partners dance with their droids.

Eventually, the groups thin and a dozen or so lingering celebrants congregate around the last lit fire. Mell pours drinks while Nix jokes with Lim, who is huddled close to Jael. I sit on the ground, head against Jess's warm, beating chest. Carth is beside us, grumpy and happy all at once. We take a collective breath and find brief, gentle silence.

"Imagine flying one of those for real," Mell says, lifting her eyebrows at Nix, "in the Resistance."

"Fat chance," Nix coughs. "Betcha can do more than just imagine, huh, Carth?"

The vet shakes his head. "I flew for the rebellion," He sighs, "But only recon. Never saw much action on this side of the galaxy. Probably never will."

"Never say never," Lim pipes up. His almond eyes speak to a quiet inner darkness. A foreboding. "There were a few planets in the Hosnian system that thought the same."

My stomach churns. The Hosnian System. Millions, billions gone in a breath. It had only been a few days since word reached through the traders that The First Order's shiny new weapon had taken out entire sets of planets. We'd stopped work that day. We'd almost cancelled the races. But Lim had halfheartedly suggested forgetting the pain and celebrating what we could see. And it had worked. Until now.

Jael scolds Lim for bringing up the tragedy and offers the last of the mauraanian ale. No one takes it-except for Gor-menn, who has been lingering on the edge of the group without our noticing.

"Talked to the traders today on the way out from Anemo." His voice is low, scratchy, like it's uncomfortable being used. "The First Order's weapon is gone."

The air hums. "Gone?" Jael asks breathlessly. "Gone how?"

"A team of Resistance fighters took it out from the inside."

Carth chuckles. "Must've been Leia's idea. She's seen a thing or two and knows how to take out those pesky machines."

Jael, surprisingly, hasn't swayed to laugh with Carth. She keeps her eyes locked on Gor-menn's. "What does that mean?"

The Duros shakes his head, but something in his eyes is knowing. "Don't know, madam. Just know it's still not over."

Jess and I stumble into the homestead while our Star rises and the moons fade. We are still slightly drunk, alive enough to be aware of the presence of our bed and one another. I'm dizzy, trying to catch my balance even as I lay beneath our furs.

"Mara."

I turn myself warily to face Jess, who is already turned to face me. He's shirtless, pantsless-oh, Maker, I can feel all of him against me. I am happily aware of what he wants and what I want. I lean in for his lips, but I feel his hands cup my face and hold me a few inches from him. His violet eyes meet mine.

"I know ya never wanna leave here." His soft voice is slurred and stirred by the ale that lines his breath.

"Do you?"

"No," he smiles, "No."

I nuzzle his nose with mine. My champion. My friend.

"'f either of us could," he hums into my hair, "It'd be you. 'd wan itta be you."

I pull away for a brief moment. "What?"

"You're smart, Mara," he says, "An' brave, an' strong. The galaxy needs you, Mara. They need you t' be who you were made t' be.