Chapter Nine The Soiree
CHAPTER NINE
The Soiree
There was always a shudder as the Starfarer left the atmosphere—a deep groan like a beast shaking off a winter chill—before the ship quieted and the ride smoothed.
With that, the Starfarer left Coruscant, bound for Alderaan.
Because the planet itself had been destroyed by the Empire during the war, the wreckage the attack left behind was always shifting.
The debris field was called the Graveyard of Alderaan.
It was a quiet place—not sacred, but sad nonetheless.
The graveyard made the approach through hyperspace unpredictable and dangerous, so both Dad and Telly were needed on deck to navigate to it.
It would take about twelve hours to reach a jump point where we could enter a hyperspace lane to Alderaan and avoid, you know, colliding with the debris field that remained of the planet.
There was a small space station nestled in the graveyard where we’d stop and take a tour of how different sectors were reviving aspects of Alderaan—agriculture, music, art—for future generations.
Though most guests just went onto the space station to get a better view of the graveyard.
In the meantime, I took Val to the crew quarters on the bottom deck and showed him to the room we’d kept for him.
The main crew quarters were compact, practical rooms with comfortable beds and personal storage, and shared access to the refreshers and galley with the dorsal side of the ship, where the seasonal crew bunked two to a room.
While we could never really afford to keep Val’s room unoccupied, Dad did anyway.
Val looked around at all the things he’d left behind, perfectly preserved from three years ago.
No one ever came into this room, except for Maeve to dust every few months.
“Everything should be where you left it,” I said as he opened his standing wardrobe and sifted through his old clothes.
“You all really just kept this stuff?” he replied, frowning at his old uniform, probably too small to fit now.
I shrugged. “We didn’t have the energy to go through all your junk.”
He snorted. “Thanks—and, hey,” he added quietly, drawing my attention.
He shifted his weight from one foot to the other.
It was so very strange to see him after three years, how much he’d changed, what parts of him had grown up and what parts of him were the same.
He pulled his hand through his hair nervously, curls catching on his fingers. “It’s nice to see you again, sis.”
“You too,” I replied, and shifted a little in hesitation. “But…why are you home, Val? Are you just going to disappear again? Dad won’t be able to deal with that a second time.”
He looked away. “I mean, I’m here now, aren’t I?”
“That’s not an answer.”
He closed the wardrobe and slung his arm around my shoulder. “Since when did you get so pessimistic, sis? I’m back, so let’s not get weird about it, yeah?”
As he hung on my shoulder, I wondered if maybe I was being too pessimistic. So I shoved those feelings away and put my arm around his shoulder, too. “You’re right. And if you leave this time, I’m going to hunt you down and nail you to the deck of this ship.”
He barked a laugh. “Now there’s my sister!”
When he tried to scrub my forehead with his knuckles, I wormed out from under his arm and smoothed down my braid. “Get settled in and then come find me to help set up for the First Night Soiree.”
He groaned. “I just got home and I’m already being sentenced to servitude?”
“There’s no time like the present,” I replied, and kissed him on the cheek. “Welcome home, Val.” And I meant it, even though I didn’t know why he was here.
“Glad to be home,” he replied, and I left him to get his room sorted.
It would be a few hours until First Night started, but guests were already beginning to explore the ship in the meantime.
They didn’t have access to the maintenance deck, where the crew quarters, galley, cargo, and launch bay were, so at least Sian only had to deal with the crew members.
Either way, I popped into the laundry, because I knew Maeve was already in the main chamber setting up for the party, and grabbed a spare seasonal uniform to drop off at the galley.
Sian was sitting at the scratch table, tossing little berries for Noola to catch in her mouth, while Veebee prepared the snacks for the party, with two automated droids that kept getting in her way. She’d shove them out eventually and just do everything herself. She always did.
“Yellow’s not really my color. I’m more of a cool-tone kind of guy,” he said jokingly when I gave him the spare uniform.
“Ha. If you leave the galley, wear this and say you’re seasonal in the laundry.”
“Laundry?”
“No one ever wants to work in laundry, so no one’ll question it. Vee, the dessert smells amazing!” I added before I left the galley and hurried to the turbolift.
I hated the First Night Soiree.
It was just what it sounded like: a party.
Dad always loved a good party. He lived for them.
If there was a celebration to be had, Dad was absolutely having it.
And because it was the first one with Val back, I was absolutely dreading it.
Even so, I found myself as I did every single First Night, standing in the main chamber of the Starfarer, a sweet drink in hand, chatting with guests against my will.
My uniform felt too tight. My heeled boots were killing me.
And if one more guest slid up to me with a hazardous pickup line, failing to see the name sewn on my chest, I was very certain I’d toss myself out of an airlock just to end the agony.
I could be compared to a Naboo sunrise only so many times before I began to debate the ethics of murder.
At least the chatter from the guests was all juicy gossip: senators sneaking away together, sabacc championships, planets wanting to join the New Republic, pop stars on the run, who put money on whom in the Canto Bight fathier races…
The loudness, the glittering lights, the laughter, it all rebounded off the bulkheads of the ship and burrowed a headache just behind my eyes.
In a corner of the main chamber, N2-0 spun bright synths while beeping to the beat.
Made to be an R-series astromech only to dream of being a DJ, and not doing a half-bad job of it.
Most of the hundred guests we had on board attended First Night, dancing to the music, orbiting each other like binary stars looking for their other half—or other halves, depending on what they preferred. The green and purple lights painted them in shades of carefree and hungry.
My brother stood on the other side of the dance floor, laughing with one of the guests. They placed a hand on his uniformed chest, much too informally, and leaned closer to him. He bent toward them, easy to flirt with.
It was so strange seeing Val in the crowd—on this ship at all, really—dressed in the dark blue of the Starfarer’s crew.
Looking at him, I could almost trick myself into thinking he’d never left.
Except the uniform was new; if I squinted I could still see the folds in the jacket, and his name wasn’t sewn onto the chest.
Why did he have to come back on the same tour where I smuggled a man and a lightsaber aboard?
Kotti surfaced from the dance floor, golden bands around her long thin lekku glinting in the light. She was tall and beautiful as always, wide eyes rimmed with sharp eyeliner to match her uniform. She slung her arm over my shoulder and gave me a squeeze.
“You look like you came to your own execution,” Kotti shouted into my ear. She looked made for a galaxy full of bright lights and fast music. Her mossy skin glistened with a thin layer of sweat, the brassy bangles on her wrists—definitely not uniform-approved—jingling whenever she moved.
“I’m not sure how I feel about this,” I observed, watching my brother.
Kotti gasped, oblivious. “What? I love this song!”
“No, I mean…” I nodded toward Val, flirting with the guest. He laughed and whispered something in their ear, causing them to blush. “Why did he decide to come home now?”
“Who cares? I thought you’d be happy.”
“I am!”
She eyed me suspiciously.
“Mostly,” I admitted, caving like one of Veebee’s soufflés. “I just…it’s going to be weird.”
“A little, but he looks so good in that uniform,” Kotti said, biting her bottom lip. “I remember Val, but you know, I never realized just how hot he is.”
I shot her a pleading look. “Don’t you dare.”
“I mean, you could reintroduce me….”
“Kotti.”
She turned away from Val and rolled her eyes. “I’m kidding, jeez. We can wait until after the tour.”
I really wanted to find that rock to die under now. I squirmed under her sweaty arm. “You’re sticky.”
“And you’re haunting this bulkhead like a ghost. C’mon, we’re working, we’re not dead.”
I sipped my sweet drink. “Joke’s on you. I’m definitely dead inside.”
She laughed and unwound her arm from my shoulder. “C’mon. One dance.”
“I’m observing,” I said.
“Then you can observe from the dance floor.” Kotti snatched my drink, drained it, and then deposited it on the table beside us. I made a squawk of anger, but she simply took my hand and pulled me into the crowd of dancers.
I felt a cold sweat break out on my back. “Wait a minute—”
“Life doesn’t start in a minute, it starts now, Ardent Quay,” Kotti chastised, pulling me into the twisting mass of people, to the very center—of course she’d drag me to the center—and raising our hands into the air.
She shimmied her shoulders, moving back and forth.
Kotti was ridiculous, and too loud, and too much. She was everything I never was.
“What’ll everyone think?” I asked, hugging my arms to my sides and looking around. “We’re supposed to be working—”
Kotti rolled her eyes. “You’re not going to get in trouble for one dance, Arie. C’mon, loosen up!” Then she pulled my hand into the air again, smiling so wide her eyes glittered. “Shake off your duty, and forget all the people watching, and celebrate that you are here. And how impossible is that?”
That in all the ships in all the worlds in all the galaxy, I had been born into this family, to find this crew, this best friend? I wasn’t sure if I believed in fate, or predestiny, but I liked to think that the Force pushed and pulled across space and time, uniting people like stars colliding.
I closed my eyes and let out a long breath.
Okay—if I could go into Coruscant alone and get a serial and run away from First Order goons…
I could dance, too.
So I shucked off the mantle of Ardent Quay for a song and danced.
After three songs and a brief musical interlude, Kotti shouted that she was thirsty and left me for the bar.
With my eyes closed, I nodded at her to go and kept dancing.
The thump of the bass reminded me of the sound of my heart earlier today, pumping through my ears, the shriek of synths like blaster bolts—
I popped my eyes open. My heart beat hard and fearful in my throat.
“I feel silly,” I mumbled to myself.
“Allow me to be silly with you then,” said a familiar voice before someone placed a hand gently on my lower back and a tall, lanky figure slipped up beside me, yellow seasonal uniform ill-fitting and creased in the wrong places.
He smiled. His silver-white hair glimmered with purple and blue hues from the party lights, and his black eyes gleamed.
Trouble, in the flesh.