Wealth to Thieving

Thirteen-year-old Zara Dak kept her pace in sync with the people around her, her head turning back and forth as if she were part of the tourist crowd around her. In reality, she was looking for Rosh’s pre-arranged meeting place.

“Are we there yet?”

Zara groaned and rolled her eyes. This had to be the fifth time he’d asked. “Not yet, Orth,” she replied. “But almost.”

“That’s what you said four blocks ago.”

“Because we’re still almost there.”

It was almost a whine, now. “Well, how much longer?”

Glancing at her wrist-chronometer, Zara smiled. “We still have ten minutes to reach the spot, but,” she interrupted Orthneil’s imminent groan, “if the directions the tour guide gave us are right, we shouldn’t be more than a couple minutes away.” That had to count toward proving herself and her brother to Rosh. And the package Zara carried in her bag –

“There it is.”

Zara followed her brother’s pointing finger off to the left. Her smile widened. “Good eyes, baby brother.” She double-checked that the bag over her shoulders was secure, then grabbed the pointing arm and pulled him with her toward the Red Hand Cantina.

“Zara, we’re not s’posed to go in,” her brother hissed.

“This is where Rosh said to meet,” Zara insisted. “We’re going in.”

They had to pause for a moment after stepping inside to let their eyes adjust. It wasn’t dark in the cantina, but it was a sudden shift from bright midday light to the cantina’s artificial light. A serving droid approached them.

“I am sorry,” its tinny voice said, “but only adults are allowed in the Red Hand Cantina.”

“I know,” Zara said, using the story Rosh had given her, adding a note of desperation to her voice. “But we really need to see our uncle Rosh. It’s an emergency. He told us he’d be in here.”

“And I gotta use the ‘fresher,” Orthniel added.

“You were supposed to go before we left!”

“I did. I gotta go again.”

Zara sighed heavily and turned back to the droid. “Where’s the refresher?” she asked. “You really don’t want an accident from him.”

The droid did nothing for a moment, and then said, “The refreshers are on the right, in the back.”

“Thanks.”

The siblings hurried off to the back of the cantina, Zara keeping her eyes open for Rosh. If all went well, she and Orth would finally have a permanent place to stay. After their parents, oldest brother and two youngest sisters had been killed almost three years ago, she and Orth had been the only two of the seven remaining Dak children to not be given places to live. And Zara refused to let them be passed around from home to home. Sure, she admitted, maybe running off to sleep in the streets or a deserted bungalow here and there hadn’t been the best idea in the system. But after a year on the streets and reduced to stealing what they needed to survive, Orth had been caught trying to lift some credits from Rosh Albin. Zara had been ready to grab her brother and run, but Albin had surprised her. After taking them back to his home – already half-full with a dozen other kids and youth – and feeding them, he explained his purpose, shared by the others.

For all the talk from the wealthy and well-to-do about doing something to help the less fortunate, it’s been mostly hot air. Zara remembered being confused by the memory of her parents participating in organizations meant to help, then still seeing plenty of urchins and other homeless all over the city. Well, if the wealthy weren’t much to help, Rosh said, then the poor would take what was rightfully theirs. And if Zara and Orthneil Dak wanted to help, they were more than welcome. But they had to prove they could do it.

And this golden statuette, lifted three days ago from a hut whose owners were on vacation, should, after two years, prove their worth. As she waited for Orth to finish up, Zara tried to peer over the heads at the table nearest her to see the rest of the patrons. Rosh had to be somewhere.

Orth finally left the refresher. Grabbing his wrist again, Zara weaved through the tables, glancing briefly at each face to see if she could recognize Rosh. There was always a possibility he’d be disguised. Suddenly she spotted him. His hair was bright red today, but that didn’t stop her from recognizing the double-star insignia on his jacket he’d told her to watch for. Suddenly she froze, eyes widening in recognition of the uniform sitting opposite Rosh. She’d know the City Law uniform anywhere.

I should’ve known it was a trick. They’d have to run again.

Rosh turned and saw them frozen. He smiled. “Well, there you are.” He waved them closer. Zara shook her head. Rosh saw her look again at the officer, who had also turned at their approach. “Oh don’t worry. He won’t bite.”

“We gotta go, uncle Rosh,” Orth said carefully. “We picked up Aunt Lindy’s birthday present.”

Rosh’s eyebrows rose and smiled. “I knew you could do it.” He stood. “Now that the shopping’s done, let’s go home.”