Javier de Costa, CPT of La Lagrima de Cocodrilo

[Scribbley]

Javier de Costa grew up poor, in a rural agricultural area on the endless orange-yellow plains that sweep

across Malta. His mother and father still farm there to this day, along with his sister. In his two and a half

decades of life, the Maltese networks brought to him vids and images of the Outcasts' growing military

stature, glimpses of the "House" systems, seemingly teeming with humanity, the dishonorable malice of the

Corsair nation, and of course the many dangers that fill the black between the stars.



Like many of the young men of Malta, Javier yearned to explore. Many of his friends from his younger school

days had gone on to join the military in some capacity. A few even as sabre pirates, and one lucky one

served on a cruiser. Javier's father wished for him to carry on the family legacy of tending the fields, and

growing crops. Beans, barley, various vegetables, a small vineyard, and --yes-- acres of cardamine grass. It

was his uncle, Don Emilio "Dos Equis" Fernando who found buyers or consumers of his father's crops. Most of

the goods were bought for domestic use somewhere on Malta. Except for the cardamine.



His uncle Don Fernando wasn't one of THOSE Dons. He had no governmental clout to speak of. He was

rather a regionally important businessman in Javier's corner of Malta; one of perhaps hundreds of successful

men who had earned the title of "don" from their less successful colleagues and benefactors. Don Fernando's

nickname, Dos Equis, came from his younger days when he had made not one, but two successful voyages

from Malta directly to the Liberty planet Manhattan, in a stolen "Stork" train. Nowadays such a run would be

impossible, given the current militarized state of Liberty, and the Houses in general. The Nomads War had

changed things. But still, Javier's uncle was known by many as the man who helped elevate the cardamine

market in Liberty and cemented a steady market on the capital planet of the House itself. No longer was it

just a substance for criminals and the underworld.




It was probably this fame and notoriety he had seen his uncle enjoy that gave him pause when his uncle one

day approached him, asking for a "favor."

"Javier, my boy. Do you want to be a farmer like your father, my dear brother?" Javier had not even noticed

his uncle stroll up from the hacienda to the bean field, where Javier was plowing the earth in the same

manner his ancestors had for thousands of years back on Earth. "My father wishes for me to continue the

tradition, Don," he replied after only a momentary freeze. The Don Fernando gave his trademark closed-

mouth wry smile, then said, "Do you know that your grandfather was an architect? I know you love your

father, but this is not the family tradition," as he motioned to the fields around them. "Our family has but ONE

tradition: chase your dreams. This-" the Don again gestured around at the rolling wheat and cardamine, "this

is your father's dream. And he caught it. I am very proud of him. My dream? My dream was for adventure.

I caught that dream long ago as well you know." Javier stopped plowing with his hoe, and turned to his uncle.

The Don gave another smile and continued. "My boy, what is YOUR dream?" Javier looked down at his dirty

boots. "I'm not sure Don. Travel? Or maybe just money and women," he replied with a laugh. The Don

laughed with him. "I thought so. I see some of myself in you. And I think I have just the job for you, to get

you started." Javier's grin slowly melted.



The Don's jobs were always dangerous. His father had forbidden him from working for his uncle. Many brave

young men from Malta seeking fortune would sign on for work from his uncle or men just like him, and never

return home to the yellow-orange seas of grass of their home world. "Don, my uncle, you know my father

has forbidden me from working with you." The Don's wry smile, as always, persisted. "Ci, ci. My boy, who

tends those acres of cardamine on the hills above your father's house?" Javier was perplexed at the

perceived change of subject. "Well, I do. My father has me work all the fields above the house, and he below

down to the stream." The Don nodded his head in grunted. Then he asked, "and who buys that cardamine?"

Javier fidgeted, then replied, "I do not know, Don. You always take care of it." "Ah." said the Don. "I take

care of it. Yes. Javier, my boy, you already work for me. You work for me, because you work for your

father. And your father, he works-- for ME. Do not make me embarrass your father by talking to him about

you working for me. Let him see his son as a man choosing his own path, not a boy hiding behind his leg.

Come work for me." The Don's wry smile had fallen, and been replaced with a piercing hazel-eyed stern

stare. The sort that makes one have the urge to swallow even when their mouth is empty.




*Gulp*. Javier looked away from that granite gaze and across the rolling terrain in the wide valley below him.

He then replied, "I see, Don. It is true that I long to see more than these furrows and plants. I will come

work for you." A white toothy smile ripped across the Don's face. "Excellent, my boy. Are you still flight-

certified?" The Don had purchased flying lessons for Javier since his 18th birthday. "Ci, Don. I am." Javier

replied with a smile. Javier enjoyed flying a great deal, and was excited by the not-so-subtle hint as to what

sort of work he would be doing for his uncle. "Excellent," Don Fernando replied. "Meet me at my installation

at the space port tomorrow at 8:00 am. Don't be late." The Don turned and strolled with his cane, which he

didn't need, picking his way through the waist-high wheat of early Spring. Javier turned, to finish his bean-

planting. He was in no hurry to go down and explain things to his father.

---

For myself I am an optimist - it does not seem to be much use being anything else.
-Sir Winston Churchill