At first, there was nothing but empty space. And then the ship ap\u00adpeared, mass and form and structure. Here to there, crossing boundless gulfs of space, as easy as pulling a lever. It was almost magical in its simplicity.<\/em><\/p>\n

Right then, however, the ship\u2019s overheating navicomputer begged to differ.<\/em><\/p>\n

For a moment, the battered old freighter just floated, hanging in space, like a garu-bear coming out of a long hibernation, taking stock of its surroundings.<\/em><\/p>\n

And then the ship shuddered and began listing to portside, carving a long, slow spiral that was suddenly accelerated as an aft impulse stabi\u00adlizer failed in a shower of white sparks. The ship\u2019s nose dipped even further, the starboard engine now sputtering, a loose cover plate reveal\u00ading a dangerous red glow from beneath.<\/em><\/p>\n

For the pilot and her two passengers, the situation had just gone from bad, to worse.<\/em><\/p>\n

Two days. That was all they\u2019d managed. Two days out from Jakku, limping along in a ship that shouldn\u2019t be flying at all, but was the only hulk they\u2019d managed to jack from Unkar Plutt\u2019s scrapyard outside of Niima Outpost. And it didn\u2019t look like they were going to make it much farther.<\/em><\/p>\n

Just a few hours earlier, they dared to think that maybe . . . they\u2019d made it? They\u2019d gotten out of their homestead, their all-purpose house droid, handcrafted from more scrap and salvage, sacrificing itself as it led the hunters astray. Then they found the ship (truth be told, they had long ago earmarked it for such a day\u2014a day they hoped would never come). Launched it, just themselves, a bag of toys and books and a handful of credits, the clothes on their backs. Pointed the navi\u00adcomputer along a vector that would take them way out of range (so they hoped). And buckled in for the ride.<\/em><\/p>\n

But now? The ship had barely survived the initial trip. Escaping to Wild Space had been a desperate move, but was far from the endgame. It was supposed to be where they could hide, just for a while, take the time to make a plan and plot a course.<\/em><\/p>\n

Those options now seemed decidedly more limited as they floated adrift. They\u2019d escaped Jakku, only to . . . what? Die in the cold reaches of space, the old freighter now nothing but a tomb for the three of them, lost forever on the outskirts of the galaxy, their passing unmourned, their names unremembered.<\/em><\/p>\n

Dathan, Miramir.<\/em><\/p>\n

Rey.<\/em><\/p>\n

The freighter\u2019s interior was as old and battered as the exterior\u2014the flight deck was cramped and functional, the old-fashioned design re\u00adquiring not just pilot and copilot but navigator, the third seat at the back of the cabin, facing away from the forward viewports. For this trip, they\u2019d had to make do with a crew of just two.<\/em><\/p>\n

The pilot\u2019s seat was occupied by a young woman, her long blond hair corralled loosely with a blue tie that matched the color of her cloak, the sleeves of her cream tunic rolled up as she leaned over the control con\u00adsole in front of her, one hand gripping the uncooperative yoke, the other flying over buttons and switches as she fought to control the shuddering ship. The forward view, as seen through the angled, heavily scratched transparisteel viewport, showed the starscape ahead sliding diagonally as the freighter\u2019s spin accelerated.<\/em><\/p>\n

Behind her, a young man, his dark hair short, the beginnings of a beard over his jaw, knelt on the decking behind the navigator\u2019s seat. His arms were wrapped around it and its small occupant, the child cradled in a padded nest formed out of a bright, multicolored blanket, a stark contrast with the drab, greasy gunmetal of the flight deck.<\/em><\/p>\n

The man craned his neck around as he watched his wife wrestle with the controls, then he stood and leaned down to kiss the head of the six-year-old girl strapped securely in the seat, a large pair of navigator\u2019s sound-deadening headphones over her ears. In front of the girl, the an\u00adcient navigation panel\u2014a square matrix of hundreds of individual tiny square lights\u2014flashed in multicolored patterns of moving shapes, a simple game the girl\u2019s mother had loaded into the auxiliary computer to keep her daughter occupied on the long journey.<\/em><\/p>\n

The man looked up at the game board, but the girl had stopped play\u00ading. He moved around to the front of the chair and saw she had her eyes screwed tightly shut. He leaned in, embracing his daughter.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ve got you,\u201d Dathan whispered to Rey. \u201cWe\u2019re all right. I\u2019ve got you.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

There was a bang; Dathan felt it as much as he heard it as another part of the strained engines gave up, the small explosion reverberating through the ship. A tear ran down from Rey\u2019s closed eyes. Dathan wiped it away, and closed his own eyes, wishing that, for once, a little good luck would come their way.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cOkay, there we go!\u201d Miramir yelled, following her statement with a whoop of triumph. The ship jolted once, and then the steady shaking stopped. Through the forward viewports, the stars were now completely still.<\/em><\/p>\n

Despite himself, despite their situation, Dathan found himself smil\u00ading. He couldn\u2019t help it. His wife was a genius and he loved her. He didn\u2019t know where she got it from, but she was a natural, like it was ge\u00adnetic. She could fly anything, had been\u2014and still was\u2014a self-taught engineer and inventor. Tinkering, Miramir called it, as though it were nothing, as though she didn\u2019t realize just how special her talents were. In the years that he had known her, Dathan had often asked where this gift had come from, but Miramir would just shrug and say her grand\u00admother was a wonderful woman. Dathan knew that to be true\u2014he had met her, several times, before Miramir gave up her life in the twilight forest of Hyperkarn to travel with Dathan. But then . . . where had her grandmother learned it all?<\/em><\/p>\n

Dathan wanted to know, but over time he\u2019d learned not to ask any further. Miramir missed her grandmother. She missed her home.<\/em><\/p>\n

That was something else Dathan had tried to understand. To be homesick, to miss something that you could never return to\u2014that was something unknown to him. Oh sure, he could understand it. And yes, he felt something for his days on Hyperkarn, even the years on Jakku, but he wasn\u2019t sure it was the same. Neither of those places had been truly home.<\/em><\/p>\n

He did have a home, a place he could legitimately say he came from. It was a place he revisited a lot, in dreams.<\/em><\/p>\n

Dreams . . . and nightmares.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cThat will hold for a while,\u201d said Miramir, releasing the yoke and reaching up to flick a series of heavy switches in the angled panel above the pilot\u2019s position. \u201cI\u2019ve rerouted reserve power into the starboard im\u00adpulse stabilizer, and then pushed the angle of the field way beyond point-seven, but that\u2019s fine because\u2014\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

She stopped as Dathan dropped into the copilot\u2019s seat and looked at her, one eyebrow raised.<\/em><\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t know what any of that means,\u201d he said, \u201cexcept that we\u2019re safe, right?\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

Miramir sat back, her slight form dwarfed by the pilot\u2019s seat. She grinned and nodded.<\/em><\/p>\n

Dathan felt his own grin growing. Miramir\u2019s happiness\u2014her relief\u2014was infectious. Maybe they would get out of this after all.<\/em><\/p>\n