3.
Taylor loved the Mirage. While some of the admiration came from the uniqueness factor, since not many four-year-olds had a parent who had a spaceship, most came simply from the fact that it was really interesting and cool. It still was a bit disappointing that nobody believed her in kindergarten when she said that she could go to space with her parents whenever she wanted.
The ship itself was a 'heavily modified V-19 Torrent', or so her mom said. It was a beautiful thing, with three wings and a sleek, red-and-white body. The room inside wasn't very big – only enough to fit a pilot and maybe one passenger. That was okay for Taylor, since she fit snugly in her mother's lap when she was onboard.
Now she was lounging in the pilot's chair, peering at the number of buttons and levers on the control panel. Her dad was outside in the forest reading a book, and her mom was fixing some mechanical problem, soldering some electrical wiring together. The only downside in going to the ship was that it took so long, with them having to drive and walk for hours just to find the forest it was hid in.
"What's this for?" asked Taylor, pointing at one blue button.
Annette took one look at it before getting back to her work. "Don't touch that, honey. It primes the laser cannon on the left wing."
"You never told me we had laser cannons!" Taylor said, and pressed down the button. When it didn't prime the laser cannon, Taylor's face fell. "Mom, I think it's broken. Nothing is happening."
"The main power is off, Taylor. That's why it's not working," said her mother, letting out a short laugh.
"Where's the main power button, then?"
Annette let out some amusement and suspicion, and Taylor crossed her arms petulantly. "I'm not gonna use the laser, mom!"
"I believe you," replied her mother, half of her body in some maintenance shaft on the side of the Mirage. "But it could create some problems with my repairs. You'll have to enjoy this beauty without the engines on, unfortunately."
Taylor huffed and turned back to the control panel. She took the wheel and started turning and whirling it, adding her own sound-effects. She imagined herself flying in space, fighting against space robots and mean aliens, using the laser cannons to destroy all evil from the universe. Pew! There went the robot frigate. Bang! The fighter of the mean aliens exploded.
She imagined herself in her mother's stories, sweeping past planets, saving people, and helping others. When Taylor was older, she was going to take the Mirage and go be an interstellar superhero. She only needed a costume, since her superhero-name was already thought out. She was going to be Space Protector, after one of her favorite heroes.
But first she'd have to grow up. Her mommy wouldn't let her pilot, let alone save worlds until she was at least fourteen. Taylor thought it was a stupid rule, but she supposed this was a lesson. She'd have to be really patient, and then she'd get to fly. If only she would grow up faster!
"Taylor?" asked her mother. One arm extended out of the panel-less wall. "Could you please pass me the holopad on your left?"
"Sure!" she said, hopping out of the chair and taking the device. Its contents were in Basic, and Taylor couldn't understand it. She was a bit dismayed – she had just learned to read English. What use was reading for if she couldn't understand the interesting stuff?
Taylor passed the holopad for the waiting hand, and it soon disappeared back in the mess of circuits and wires inside the walls of the ship. Curious as she was, Taylor peeked inside, seeing the soft glow of the pad hologram giving light. Her mom was reading it and using some sort of spark machine to fix some things at the same time. She wasn't very versed in spaceship technology or lingo.
"What're you doing?" She asked.
Annette paused in her repairs to glance at Taylor before answering. "The repulsorlift has been acting like an angry Cherfer lately. I think I've gotten most of the problems fixed, but I want to be certain."
"What're you reading?"
"An archived article called '100 Most Typical Problems On Repulsorlifts'," replied Annette, biting her lip, concentrating on her work. "Despite the title, it's actually very detailed."
"Oh," said Taylor, sitting down on the floor. After a moment or two, she continued with the bluntness only a child could achieve. "Can you teach me to read Basic?"
Annette flicked on some switches, creating a steady hum of noise inside the Mirage. She took off her gloves and welding mask, placing them next to Taylor the floor, and leaned towards her, swiping an errant lock of hair behind her ear.
"Maybe you should learn how to speak it first," Annette said, taking out a pen and jotting down a couple of notes. It was all in Basic, to Taylor's chagrin.
"They don't teach it in daycare," She muttered. "They say that aliens or space languages aren't real."
Annette hummed, browsing the holopad. Taylor took this as an invitation to continue. "Only Ellie really believes me. The others think I'm weird. David says I'm weird, and he says I'm stupid. I hate him."
"What have we talked about hate?" asked her mom absentmindedly, now taking the drill out of the toolbox.
"That we don't," Taylor answered, slightly dejected. David was the one who was actually stupid. He wasn't the one who had been in space, or seen far-away stars, or could levitate stuff.
"Remember that you can like people all you want," Annette lectured. "And dislike people all you want. But violent hate? Or unconditional love? Those lead to ruin. Avoid extreme emotions."
"But I love you, mommy," said Taylor, confused. Wasn't she supposed to?
Her mother froze on the spot, eyes widening. She sat down next to Taylor slowly, putting the drill down next to her. A brief silence passed, Taylor still bewildered. She liked her mom and dad more than anything. That wasn't wrong.
"I- I do too, sweetheart," Annette whispered, not looking at her daughter. "But it- It is not the Jedi way. We shouldn't form attachments."
"Do you…" started Taylor, uncomfortable. "Do you wanna not like me?"
"No- No!" answered her mom, now looking at her. "I do want to love you. And I do. You're my child."
"Attachments aren't necessarily bad," continued Annette. "But they can cause many things, good and bad. Us Force-users, we- we can't let the bad, the Dark Side, affect us. So to avoid the Dark Side, we avoid attachments, and it helps."
"But I like Ellie. I like you and daddy," Taylor replied, a small frown on her face. "And I like Fluffy and grandma."
Her mother looked pained. "And you can still like all of us. But honey, you need to be able to let go of anger and all sorts of negative emotions. If, let's say, Ellie got hurt because of David, would you be angry?"
"Yes," was the reply. "David is a big dummy. And Ellie is my friend."
"To be a good user of the Force, to be a part of the Light Side," said Annette, wringing her arms. "To be a Jedi, you mustn't be angry or mad. You must be calm. Compassionate, but collected. But it's very hard not to be angry when a friend is in trouble, right?"
If- If something happened to my friends, 'course I'd be mad!" Taylor objected. "I'd have to help them!"
"And you would help them," interrupted her mother, tone patient. "But not through anger."
Annette then rose up from the floor, forcing on a smile before the little girl could reply. "I think that's enough philosophy for today. I heard Danny has some ice-cream outside in the cooler – maybe you'd like some?"
"What kind of ice-cream?" asked Taylor suspiciously. She wasn't easily deterred.
"Chocolate, of course."
And so little Taylor ran outside to her father, screaming about chocolate ice-cream. The family ate together all of it, the girl focusing on stuffing as much frozen ice in her mouth as she could, soon experiencing her first brain-freeze. The talk about attachments was soon gone from Taylor's memory.
But not Annette's.
-o-