[https://media.contentapi.ea.com/content/dam/walrus/common/naboo.jpg]

Regis woke floating in heavenly blue light. He could see white marble walls, and something like green leaves swaying in a gentle breeze. Utterly confused, he reached out, and his hand struck glass with a dull thud.

Regis realized he was floating in a bacta tank. He had seen them before, on Star Destroyers and at the Imperial Military Academy on Carida. They were expensive and difficult to maintain, but knowing that he was having his wounds tended by the rejuvenating substance did not comfort him. Vaguely recalling a savage beating from a Cheka trooper, he could only assume that he was in a New Republic hospital. Most likely they were tending to his wounds so that he could be put on public trial before execution.

[http://www.starwarsarchives.com/wp-content/gallery/tesb-sc012-bacta-tank/Scn012-BactaTank006.jpg]

He caught movement. As his eyes adjusted, he saw Sindo reclining on a couch with a book. She sat up and smiled at him, her eyes alight with unexpected joy. She wore a comfortable-looking white dress, and her hair was pinned to one side. She called out to someone, then sat watching Regis, smiling contentedly with her book in her lap.

Through an open doorway leading to a grand patio lined with trees, Vasili entered with a big, toothy grin plastered on his face. With a haircut and a fine yellow-green suit, Regis hardly recognized him. Regis had a thousand questions, but could not speak around his heavy breathing mask.

"Don't worry, Sergeant... er, Regis," said Vasili, his voice distorted through the glass. "Just relax. You're on Naboo!"

* * *

Open windows presented an idyllic scene of golden waves rippling through wheat fields as the sun sank behind the blue mountains of Naboo. Passing by each window as they made their way down the ancient stone hallway, Regis saw many humans and aliens down below - the farmers leaving off from their duties and making their way toward the wing of the castle that had been converted into a mall and mega grocery, complete with neon signage that was crackling to life. Regis grimaced and turned away.

Though he would have liked to get a better look at Naboo, at the moment his mind was preoccupied with adjusting his cravat and tight-fitting crimson vest. Every breath he took reminded him of the beating he had taken, and the fashionable vest only made it worse.

"You'll get used to the getup," said Vasili. "Took me a while, too. But it's not so bad pretending to be a nobleman! I mean... being actual noblemen," he added, glancing over his shoulder.

"So this plantation is human-run," Regis said quietly, "but we have to be careful about aliens here?"

Vasili glanced down an intersecting hallway. "That's right. Guy who runs things was a friend of the Empress. He helped establish the New Republic. They say he and the Empress were once an item. That was before she married Senator Madine, and then divorced him and gave up on humans entirely."

"And this guy's going to help us?" said Regis, alarmed.

Vasili shrugged. "I don't know, but Luke trusts him. Luke told him about us-"

"What?!" Regis's voice echoed across the flagstones.

"It's not as bad as it sounds!" Vasili hissed. "Look, Luke's friend isn't a climber, alright? If anything, he's been put out to pasture by the Empress. Maybe he has an axe to grind? Whatever his deal is, he trusts Luke, and Luke trusts us, so I think we should be safe."

Regis eyed Vasili sidelong. "And you trust Luke."

"I do..."

Regis noticed Vasili stopped short before adding sir. "Why's that?" said Regis. "You guys get close while I was out?"

Vasili shrugged. "You weren't the only one who took a beating back on... you know. I was a goner, but Luke came back for me. He didn't have to do that. But he did."

Regis nodded. Though he did not trust that Luke was even capable of showing real loyalty to his own species, and though he still had doubts about his strange religion, Regis had been fighting long enough to know that war revealed a man's true character, separating cowards from heroes. Considering what they had been up against on Dagobah, no one would have blamed Luke if he had simply abandoned Vasili and saved his own hide.

Stolen story; please report.

"Anyway, you ever been on Naboo... uh, Regis?"

At that moment they passed a wide stone balcony. Regis guessed the view of the distant blue mountains would have been nice this time of year, but the castle's mall section suddenly lit up with a blinking advertisement for synthetic Reedug pills. "POP SOME PURPLE SLEEPIES AND RELAX!!!!!" reflected in giant rainbow-hued letters against ancient stone walls.

"No, never been here," said Regis. "Might have been nice to see it before it became the breadbasket of the New Republic. You?"

"Yeah, I've been here before. It was no paradise planet then, either."

"You didn't grow up here, did you, Vasili? No wonder you know how to wear a suit!"

Straightening his bright green vest dramatically, Vasili said, "No, no. I, uh..." He looked around to make sure he would not be overheard, then continued. "Back before Omicron Squadron, when I was still pretty green, I was part of a security detail protecting an officer in charge of prosecuting some Gungans who were into some pretty sick stuff. The Empire was trying to get the rulers of the Gungan underwater cities to manage their own labor force, and we were going to use them for our purposes. But apparently their ruling class was completely corrupt, and the fall of the Republic threw them into disarray. They were blackmailing each other left and right, and we had to sort them out."

[https://vignette4.wikia.nocookie.net/starwars/images/e/e4/Gungan_High_Council.png/revision/latest?cb=20121103145441]

"Blackmail?" said Regis.

Vasili gave Regis a disgusted look. "The Gungans had turned blackmail into an artform, and they had a class of weirdos whose entire existence was based on getting their politicians to compromise themselves."

"Ah, I get it. Find a politician with a picture-perfect family, then send in a hooker and a camera to get him under your thumb."

"If that was all it was, then our security team wouldn't have had to enroll in psych evals and mandatory therapy. No, let's just say the compromised politicians were getting their pictures taken with something worse than hookers. This wasn't the kind of blackmail that would lower your approval rating a few points - it was the kind that would get your own people forming into mobs and hunting you down, if it ever got out."

[https://lumiere-a.akamaihd.net/v1/images/databank_gungangrandarmy_01_169_9a8506f2.jpeg?region=0%2C49%2C1560%2C780]

"Ah... I think I see what you mean. It was that bad, huh?"

"Yeah. Really sick stuff. Apparently their own people tried to tackle the problem... oh, maybe thirty, forty years ago. But they couldn't pull out all the weeds, so the problem came right back. We put a few Gungan bigwigs up against the wall for target practice, but their political situation was such a mess that there was no way we could untangle the corruption."

"What did you end up doing, then?"

"We kicked the Gungans out of their underwater cities and had them, uh, exploring exciting new careers in the mining industry. We couldn't trust any of their rulers, so we had them breaking rocks like everybody else."

Regis chuckled. "At least the perverts and blackmailers ended up doing hard labor with the rest of them!"

"No... plenty of 'em got away. The blackmailers, I mean. Once we caught a few, the rest of 'em saw what was coming and got scarce."

"Absolutely disgusting," said Regis, shaking his head. "So that's what the guy who runs this place fought to protect?"

Vasili snorted as they drew near an open doorway from which they could hear the sound of conversation, laughter, and the clink of glasses. "Maybe I shouldn't have told that little story," said Vasili, "because right now, we've got to pretend all these creatures and ex-Rebels don't make us both sick!"

"I've had plenty of practice doing that," said Regis.

Entering the doorway, they found themselves in something like an elegant bar mixed with a medieval dining hall. Several groups of aliens and humans wearing the yellow coveralls of plantation managers sat in quiet conversation over their drinks. Among them were several furry Yuzzum overseers wearing fashionable ties, a blue Twi'lek in a fancy robe poring over a data pad, and even a couple of giant Wookiee farmhands staring at Regis from behind their game cards. Luke, who was sitting with a man and a woman, had already noticed Regis, and watched him with a serious expression.

As they approached, Regis realized that the woman with Luke was Sindo. He had not recognized her in makeup and a fashionable blue blouse. She laughed as a tall, handsome nobleman in a shiny, orange patterned suit jacket regaled her with some tale. He had wavy brown hair flecked with gray, and while he looked to be in his forties, he had an easy, youthful smile. Hearing Sindo laughing at his tale, Regis could not help but feel an immediate dislike for the man.

"But I told them, look, I'm no xenophobe!" said the nobleman. "My best friend is a Wookiee! Alright? Back then, when I was a bigwig general, I had a full staff of nonhumans. A full staff! But that wasn't enough for them. Once the rumor mill got going, every Rodian in the galaxy thought I was going to shoot them from under the table if they got too close to me. But I... oh."

The nobleman noticed Regis and Vasili. His easy smile disappeared and was replaced with a glare sent in Regis's direction. The glare turned into a tight-lipped smile as the man rose to greet them.

"Glad you're up and about," said the nobleman. "Roger, isn't it? And good to see you again, Vincent," he added, nodding to Vasili with a knowing look. "Care for a drink?"

"Roger, right," said Regis, glancing at a group of Gungans turning to look at him. "That's my name. And you are?"

The nobleman laughed. "Sorry, I thought you knew. I'm the guy who pretends to run this joint. People used to call me General Solo, but now that they've retired me, you can just call me Han."