Tip had hoped that he could take his supper over to the tavern before it became too packed with smelly miners. He wanted to spend the rest of his evening listening to the exotic stories told by the transport pilots grabbing a drink while they waited for their ships to be loaded or offloaded.
Maybe he would even be able to catch wind of the state of the rebellion taking place across rest of the galaxy, or if it had even reached the level of galactic conflict to deem it a full fledged civil war on any of the other worlds.
As he carried his meal tray and coffiene cup into the pub, he noticed a new group of pilots seated at the far end of the bar. His bunkmate was already deep in discussion with a few of them, and he motioned to Tip, who was scanning the room for an empty seat.
Tip shook his head in declination, and opted for a booth in the corner. However, his friend quickly made his way through the crowd and over to Tip’s table, most likely to let him in on what’s he had missed.
“What’d they say about the war?” Tip asked the younger Ishi Tib.
“Who?” he replied with a wide grin on his face.
“The guys over there that you were just talking to.”
“Oh, no,” Tip’s acquaintance said, waving his hands about in an exaggerated manner, “they don’t care anything about the Empire and all that. They’re actually a couple of smugglers who are stranded here. Apparently their old pilot just passed away out of the blue… and they’re looking for a new one.”
“And?” Tip asked, chomping down on a spoonful of processed rations.
“And, Tip, you’re the best fracking pilot in this whole mining complex! This is the perfect opportunity for you!”
“I don’t know, I think I’m pretty comfortable here,” Tip said as he leaned back in his seat and took a sip of his fifth coffiene of the day.
But he felt a slight tickle in his ankle.
The same one he had felt every night before, when the dune grass blew against his leg, right before he transformed and took flight.
“C’mon,” his friend prodded, “just come see what they have to say. I made sure to play your skills up, not that they needed to be, but they’re very interested in meeting you.”
Before he could protest again, Tip found his body instinctively sliding out of the booth, and he reluctantly got up and walked over to the group of smugglers, coffiene still in hand.
The man who greeted him and introduced himself as the captain of the group was very welcoming and charismatic. No wonder his friend had been instantly drawn to them among the crowd of other colorful pilots and alien crews.
But as Tip began to converse with the man, he saw something. Something in his eye. A look… no, an emotion. One he had only seen so raw and pure once before.
He swore it was the same anger that brewed inside Lieutenant Luffman, but this time it was as if it was masked behind a blinding smile. And Tip didn’t know which seemed scarier.
His friend laughed, startling him from his observations and instinctive small talk, and patted Tip on the back before leaning in near his ear. “Tip, we’ve always dreamed of this. Any one of us here would give an arm and a leg to be in the situation you’re in. Take the offer, for all of us.”
Tip sighed and looked at the strange men in front of him, “if you really want me to be your pilot, I have one condition. I know smugglers can get into some intense situations, but as long as you can promise that I will never be forced to hurt or kill anyone, I suppose there’s no reason why I’m not in.”
The captain, a human who had introduced himself as “Oram Cale” or something along those lines, turned and looked at the two Nikto on his left and they all burst out in laughter. “I’d never make you do something like that, friend. If that’s all you want, then it looks like we have ourselves a deal.”
Tip’s beak turned up in a smile as the two men firmly shook hands, and he felt a wave of something he could only describe as overwhelming relief rush through his body. He didn’t love it here in the mines, but he didn’t hate it either. At least that is what he had always told himself. But now that it looked like he was leaving, he couldn’t imagine staying here another single forsaken day.
However, the look in the captain’s eyes still lingered in the back of Tip’s mind like a small impurity found in a priceless gemstone. And impurity he tried hard to dismiss. Surely it was just because he was tired, or paranoid, or maybe he was simply seeing his own emotions reflecting in the mans pupils. He was eventually going to be wrong about someone, so maybe that eventuality was today.
The captain told Tip to go pack his things immediately, and to not worry about informing the site supervisor. He would handle the formalities while his new pilot prepared to leave. Cale said they were on a tight schedule, and he had been on his way to “take care” of someone who was, in his words, “a great injustice to the galaxy.” It sounded campy, but Tip supposed that was just the life of a smuggler, as long as he wasn’t pulled into anything too vile.
He wondered if they were secretly bounty hunters, or maybe disguised members of the Outer Rim Marshals. But those speculations would have to wait because he needed to gather his few belongings and make it back to his new ship before they grew impatient and left without him.
In only a few minutes, he had packed his bag, doused himself in a quick saltwater spray, and was making his way back towards the suspended landing pad where the crew’s old Exten-class shipping vessel was waiting.
“Welcome aboard,” Cale said smiling as he ushered his new pilot towards the cockpit. “Tonight is your first step towards freedom. How does it feel, Tip my friend?”
“Amazing,” Tip said taking in a deep breath, smelling the stale air of the ship that was going to serve as his new home for quite some time. “It feels amazing.”
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“Tonight was the first night in over a year where I did not dream. Not so much as a vision or feeling. Nothing. My sleep was still as restless as ever, but I did not dream of looking down at the dunes from high above Tibrin. I did not dream of soaring with an assortment of brilliant avians. And I did not see the shimmering lake. I fear I will never learn the truth of what secrets that mysterious pool held. But as long as I learn about all of the secrets and wonders the galaxy has to offer, I don’t much mind. I am free now. I am soaring through the skies. And I should be happy… but I feel a lingering dread. I have attempted to blame it on my own uncertainties and fears of the unknown, but I have never felt this feeling before. Something is going to happen soon, whether good or bad, and I can only hope I live to see it through to the other side. These thoughts are the privileges that come with being liberated. Oh, if only the miners back home could see me now.”
Tip tucked his journal under the pilot’s seat and placed his hands back on the steering yoke. Since their hyperdrive was shot, Tip was currently flying them on a one week long journey towards the Veora System. What awaited them there was beyond Tip, but he cherished every breath and studied every star. He finally had a purpose in the galaxy. He could finally fly far above the crevices and coral cities that dotted the Tibrin landscape.
His dream had finally come to fruition, and he would fly until he found his shimmering destination.
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