Silmeria Ren’dal
Age: 19
Species: Human
Height: Slightly below average
Build: Powerful… she lifts and never skips leg day.
Skin Color: Light… Clearly she spent a lot of time in space.
Hair Color: Dark brown, long, lots of volume.
Eye Color: Blue
Birthplace: Coruscant
The Story:
“Take the shot, Speedy.”
It was the voice of her father—encouraging, hopeful, expectant. “Come on, Speedy, take the shot.”
Her hands gripped the controls of her fighter. The vast shape of a cruiser loomed before her. Her focus was on the shield generator. She had a chance to hit it, possibly not disable it, but she would now never know. She had an engine out. Smoke and the smell of burning metal filled the cockpit. Red lights flashed everywhere. She felt the damp of sweat inside her flight suit. One more salvo of swarm missiles would finish her and her gunner. And the cruiser was reloading. She needed to get out of there. But, in later reflection, the possibility of what she might have accomplished if she had risked a shot haunted her. More than a thousand men were about to die.
She couldn’t take the shot. She was afraid to lose her ship. Not again. That day she chose to withdraw and seek one of the many replacement ships the Navy had on hand.
But that decision haunted her. It haunted her because she thought it might not have been prudence, but fear. So the battle was fought again every night in her dreams. Every night she was stuck in an endless loop. Dodging swarm missiles and lining up the shot she never took. Stuck until she could find the courage to take the shot.
“Come on, Speedy,” the hopeful voice of her father said again.
She knew well when she learned fear. In a situation not too different…
Not too long ago Silmeria Ren’dal sat at the pilot’s seat of the bulk freighter Legacy. The instrument panels that still worked were all showing red. The minimally armed ship was taking a pounding from a pirate ship. Swinging out from a large asteroid, it was on them almost as soon as the bulk freighter came out of hyperspace.
“Engines are out. Weapons are down. I’ve got no control response,” Silmeria said.
Gavin Ren’dal, her father, sat in the seat next to her. He was frowning at his console, flipping switches to regulate the ship’s dying systems. He was an older man in good shape with wispy hair and beard streaked with gray.
“It’s alright Speedy. I don’t know why they didn’t take our dropped cargo pods. You did well but in this thing—we never really had a chance.” He unbuckled his harness and rose. “Not in space at least.”
Her father turned and walked purposefully out and down the corridor. Silmeria threw off the harness and jumped out of her seat rushing to catch up. As they walked, she felt the ship lurch and realized the Legacy would soon be boarded. The pirates hadn’t responded to communications. And the Legacy had dropped valuable cargo pods behind them. But the pirates ignored them. They wanted the whole damn ship it seemed—or prisoners.
“What are we going to do?” Silmeria asked.
“You’re going into the hidden storage compartment,” Gavin said. “The rest of us, well, we’ll make them regret their choices.”
They came through the doorway into a rush of activity. The crew had gathered and were arming themselves. There were three in particular she had known her all her life. Two were maintenance techs, a man named Elgon and a wookie named Kruwbuf. They were hauling out weapons cases. A stern middle aged woman named Velra, the chief engineer and the closest thing Silmeria had to a mother, was giving directions. These three were like family. Behind them were more transient workers. One was a handsome young man who always seemed to be around to make conversation since he’d come on three months ago. He was fumbling with a tactical belt but when she entered he looked up. Their eyes met. He was afraid.
“Equip weapons and armor,” Velra said, supervising the pandemonium. “Take whatever you need.”
Silmeria started for a rifle but her father took her hand and pulled her back. “Not today, Speedy.”
“But I…”
“You’re going to hide.” He lowered his voice. “We’re not all going to make it out of this one. But if you make it out, whatever else happens, I’ll consider it a win.”
She shook her head, blinking back tears. He hugged her. “You have to get out. Stay in the compartment. Wait. Be patient. You’ll get your chance to slip out unnoticed. You’re the most important thing to me, Speedy. You’re all that matters. I’m buying you a chance to get out because right now, that’s the thing I want most of all. Understand?”
She nodded.
In an uncharacteristic display, Velra approached and gave her a hug. “You were always a bright girl. You’ll be alright. Now go.”
And she went. She never got a chance to say goodbye to Elgon, Kruwbuf, or the young maintenance tech. She didn’t have a chance to get back to her room, to retrieve the ring that belonged to her mother. It was all she had. That one thing. She didn’t even have a memory, or an image, or a story. Her father always put off telling her anything.
Silmeria went into the hidden compartment and waited. But eventually they found her, hiding in the dark. She was dragged to the other ship where she came face to face with the Captain.
“So you tried to hide?” he asked with amusement. “Ever think that we’re the experts at smuggling? But don’t worry. You’ll be treated well enough for now. Can’t say what’ll happen after you’re sold. But for now, well, we’re not savages. No. Thing is, we’re bein’ pressed. Pressed hard by the higher powers. I always thought that it’s bad long term to take whole ships. But we need more than your drops. We had no choice in that.”
Silmeria glared at him but said nothing.
The Captain shook his head. “It’s a shame that crew of yours all fought to the death. Bad business. Whoever was flyin’ that hunk of metal was a first class pilot. Really. I say that 'cause our own pilot’s trash. We could’ve used a good pilot.” He looked at her curiously, giving her a moment to speak. Silmeria continued to glare but said nothing. With a shrug he said, “I guess you’re good for the price you’ll fetch, at the least.”
She was thrown into a filthy cell and left alone, fearing the visits that never came. All that came was food through a slot. Then, after long isolation, she found herself actually yearning for human contact. Spending so much of her life in space, she knew when they went into hyperspace and when they came out. She didn’t understand why so much time went by. They made so many stops. She could be anywhere.
Finally, one day as she lay on the cold deck, Silmeria woke to the sounds of battle. She curled up as the ship maneuvered and shuddered under impacts. After a silence she heard the blasts and shouts of fighting. That didn’t last long either. Then she was suddenly bathed in blinding light as the door opened.
“I’ve got one!”
She squinted and blinked. A soldier of the Republic stood over her in his red armor. She saw a hand held out to her, palm up.
“Come on, Speedy, get up.” The voice was in her head, hopeful, encouraging.
She was paralyzed with fear. It was so irrational. But she couldn’t move.
“Get on your feet,” the voice in her head said again. “It’s important that you walk out of here.”
She looked up at the hand offered. Her body didn’t move. So, like a child, she was carried in the arms of the solder, hugging his neck until she was set onto a medical bed.
A few days later she was on Viscara with nothing but a new set of clothes.
“It is not tragedies that define us,” Velra’s voice was in her head, “Rather it is the choices we make.” It was one of many lessons learned from the woman’s tutoring. Silmeria nodded and said to herself, “Right. This beats a cell.”
Next to her, a refugee gave her an odd look.
Silmeria smiled at him. “I’m ready to work. Aren’t you? There are plenty of opportunities here.”
“If you’re crazy,” he muttered.
“I’m going to earn enough credits to buy my own ship,” she told him despite his obvious lack of interest. She decided she would make a new home. And this time, it would have guns—really big guns. Maybe she’d join the Navy. Maybe. Either way, she was going to make a fortune and those pirates would one day fear her.
And that was the not so distant past. At present, Silmeria lay in her bunk, stirring in her sleep, the same dream, or nightmare, playing through her mind in an unbroken loop. She was at the controls of her fighter in the midst of battle. Missiles swerved and raced at her. Blasts and laser fire were all around. Her ship was heavily damaged—on the edge of destruction. The cruiser ahead was preparing another round of fire. In her sights, its shield generator. Take the shot, she told herself. No, I made the smart choice. Or was I afraid? I must not give in to fear. Take the shot. But she never managed it. So the battle went on and on and on…