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"So you're the mass murderer my good friend is hanging with these days."
Han leaned in and said this to Regis as soon as the party of Gungans cleared out, leaving them relative space to talk without being overheard. Vasili and Sindo were deep in conversation, with Vasili working on his third round at least. Luke sat quietly in thought, and while he gave no indication that he had heard Han's remark, Regis felt it safe to assume that he had heard it loud and clear.
Unwilling to be pushed around, even if it was by his host, Regis said, "I like to think of myself as the guy who got off his behind when he heard a fellow human needed help."
Regis watched as Han sat back, seeming to take the jab in stride. "You thought Luke was an Imperial," said Han.
"I thought he was important to the survival of the human race," said Regis. "And he is. Are you telling me you wouldn't gun down a whole gang of aliens if you thought your friend needed you?"
Han turned away, idly swirling the contents of his glass. "You have a point, but no, I wouldn't go off half-cocked." His eyes swiveled in a surprisingly nervous gesture, and he added, "I don't know what you've heard of me, but I don't gun people down, even nonhuman people, just for the sake of convenience."
Regis knew nothing about Han Solo, the former general of the New Republic. Though he had gathered that Han had fallen out of favor with the Empress, Regis did not want to reveal his ignorance by asking for clarification. Though Regis said nothing, Han looked flustered, as if tired of being grilled.
"Okay, look, in the past, I might have gotten into trouble with some nonhumans," Han said quietly. "I mentioned that incident with a Rodian earlier. I did what I thought I had to do, at the time... but... look, I didn't shoot first. Okay? He had a gun on me, and I... I kind of moved my head to the side. Alright? I waited for him to shoot first, and that was my trap. I knew he was aiming for my head! So when I moved my head, and he shot first... bam! That's how I got him."
Though Regis had no idea what Han was talking about, he could tell it had something to do with his fall from grace. Regis knew what it was like to live in shame, but at least he had the consolation of knowing that he had fought for humans. He hated to think that this man had risked his life fighting for aliens only to be rewarded with the shameful title of xenophobic alien-killer.
"See those aliens over there?" said Regis, nodding to a pair of Ugnaughts in mechanics coveralls nursing their pints. Leaning forward, Regis said, "Brother, you're a friend of Luke's, so if you told me those guys were out to hurt you, me and my friends would pump those sawed-off aliens full of holes, no questions asked. Just say the word... General."
Regis had trouble identifying the potent mix of emotions behind the look that Han gave him. It was something like fear and disgust, but mixed with the desperation of a drowning man who had been sinking for years, day after day, treading against something he was not equipped to understand, or even admit to himself. Finally he laughed and shook his head.
"Luke was right," he said. "You really are something. You-"
Han smiled and waved as a group of beaked Ishi Tibs entered, squawking loudly as they made their way up to the bar. Regis felt a cold chill as one of them eyed their table, his eyes stopping on each of them for a protracted moment before finally turning away and rejoining his friends' conversation.
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"Here's the thing," said Han. "Feel free to speak your mind here. Alright? All the aliens here are my friends. They're not just employees. I'd be in an even deeper hole if we had rats reporting every joke I ever made. Well..." Scratching his nose thoughtfully, Han added, "Actually, one of those guys who passed by just now is a spy."
"What?" said Regis.
"And, truth be told," Han continued, "there's actually more than a few of them around here. But it's not as bad as it sounds. Yeah, they report to the Cheka, but-"
"Oh, great." Regis glanced over his shoulder, his heart racing at the sight of dozens of aliens, any one of whom might be a Cheka angling for a promotion.
"But, like I was saying, they don't want to endanger their cushy job anymore than I want to be exiled to Dagobah over a bad choice of words. So, speak your mind, but just kind of... be vague, you know?"
"Don't you have any humans around here?" said Regis, unable to keep the frustration from his voice.
"Yeah, but steer clear of them," Han shot back. "The humans here are the worst. They're constantly reporting on each other to the Cheka. They'll do anything to make it look like they're being cooperative. And my wife's the worst of the worst. Stay away from her if you see her. Fortunately, she spends most of her time in the South Wing."
"What's her deal?"
A dark shadow passed over Han's face. "She's a product of the Legislative Youth Program. It's here, on Naboo. Mon Mothma runs it these days. Ever heard of it?"
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Regis shook his head.
"It's a place where they send human children and turn them into... well, they fill their heads with a lot of ideas. Look, I don't agree with you Imps, alright? But when they send these kids to the Legislative Youth Program, they come out different. They start hating other humans."
"I don't get it," said Regis. "Do they capture the kids?"
"No. Actually, it's not easy to get in. You need wealthy parents, or an influential family in a key position. It's prestigious. And the kids who graduate end up working in politics. They push for pro-alien programs and help the Cheka fight... uh, human extremists."
"That's pretty bad when the only way for a human to get ahead is to work against their own kind," said Regis, gritting his teeth. "But I'm the bad guy. Right, Han?"
Ignoring him, Han said, "I said some things after Luke got exiled. I let my big mouth get me in trouble. I didn't have a lot of friends back then, so when I met her... I thought it was a new beginning for me." Han eyed his drink as he turned it in his hand. "Now, I think she was sent by the school to keep an eye on me. As if there weren't enough spies on this farm already."
"You're lucky, Han."
"Lucky?"
Regis nodded. Gesturing toward Han's drink, he said, "You get to taste test the New Republic's finest. I got to dig through trash on Tatooine. I considered it a good day if nobody hacked my door lock and rifled around in my underwear drawer. You must have had a friend looking out for you. Otherwise you would have been sorting trash on Dagobah with your buddy Luke."
Han shot Regis a look that said he had gone too far. But Regis was sick of his fellow humans making excuses, or risking life and limb fighting the Empire while being deathly afraid to speak out of turn against the New Republic. So Regis held Han's gaze.
"I did have a friend on the inside." Han sat back, looking deflated. "It was the Empress."
"That a fact?"
Han nodded slowly. "We used to be close. Really close. But after the war, after we beat the Empire at Endor, she started changing. At first, I thought her anger was justified, when she was rooting out Imperial holdouts. And when she was freeing aliens enslaved by you Imps, who was I to complain when she resettled them on human worlds? But as we got things running, and got the worlds to cooperate and sign on with the New Republic, her anger didn't go away. I thought she would be happy... but she got worse. Now, she's a different person than the Leia I used to know. Anyway. Once she was done with me, she married our old Rebel teammate, Crix Madine. He's Corellian, like me. They even had a couple of kids." Han took a drink, adding, "I wish them the best."
The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.
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Regis leaned in close. "Has Luke talked to you yet, Han? We need you to get us close to the Empress. If she still feels something for you, then you can use that to get us close to her."
"And what? Kill her?"
Though Regis wanted to confirm what Han suspected, or at least to say nothing at all, instead he said, "Luke thinks he can convince her to stop this madness. He thinks-"
"It's not going to happen," said Han, rising suddenly. "She's not the same person I used to know."
As he turned to leave, Regis noted the heavy DL-44 blaster hanging at Han's hip. Despite the New Republic's laws against humans owning weapons, Han obviously felt comfortable enough openly wearing one in his own home despite the fact that it was packed with aliens, many of whom were known Cheka informants.
Still, Han walked away as if running to hide. Regis felt angry, and confused. He could not figure out if Han was a fighter who had lost his way, or a coward hiding behind a hard luck story. Before he could think any more deeply on the subject, he caught Luke staring at him.
"What is it?" Regis snapped.
"Can I talk to you for a moment?"
Immediately regretting his tone, Regis nodded. He was distracted as Artoo rolled up to their table.
"There's my good buddy!" said Vasili. "I wouldn't be walking around if it wasn't for this little guy," he added, stretching out his robotic leg. Sindo patted the droid on his head, causing him to rotate and beep affectionately. Regis's teammates continued their conversation together, oblivious to Regis's inner turmoil. He was grateful for that.
"You okay?" said Luke. Now that he was looking at him, Regis realized that Luke had traded in his faded, threadbare black outfit and cloak for... practically the exact same outfit. He even had a fresh black glove to match the rest of his utilitarian, monkish wardrobe.
"Sorry, Luke." Regis leaned in so that he would not be overheard. "It's just Han."
Luke smiled slightly. "I know what you mean," he said.
"Do you? I find that hard to believe."
"Don't worry about Han. He always comes through, in the end."
"Well, that's great, but in the meantime, do you have any other friends who can get us close to the Empress? Call me paranoid, but I don't like the idea of hanging around a bunch of Cheka informants. What about that man from the hologram, the one with the protocol droid? You know, the Senator."
"Wedge Antilles," said Luke. "No, he and Threepio disappeared one day. Han told me that Wedge packed up his bags, loaded his family into a ship, and then they just... took off. Nobody's heard from them since."
Regis shook his head in frustration. "He's probably going to look for new rebels to start a rebellion against the old rebels."
Regis was surprised when Luke gave him a knowing smile. "Things will work out," he said.
"Seriously?" Regis screwed up his face and glanced at Luke's glass. "Is there something stronger than water in there?"
"No. It's just a feeling, is all."
"Well, I have a bad feeling about this. Look, I appreciate..." Regis fell silent as a long-nosed Kubaz walked unnecessarily close to their table on his way up to the bar. Watching his tone, he said, "I appreciate your help. With everything. But I don't see how you can be so relaxed right now. What about your kids? Don't you think the Cheka will be looking for them?"
"They're fine," said Luke. "Only I know where they're hiding, and they won't move until I tell them it's safe to do so. They can take care of themselves until we put things right."
"Put things right," Regis repeated, rubbing his temples. "As easy as that, huh? But maybe I shouldn't complain. Then again, if I had your powers, I wouldn't have anything to fear."
Luke's gaze passed over Regis's face, making him feel as if he was being scrutinized on a fundamental level.
"It starts with trust," said Luke.
"That's in short supply these days."
"I don't mean trusting in people. I mean: Trusting that you are where you're supposed to be."
"Where I'm supposed to be? According to who?"
Luke spread his hands. "According to whoever set this whole thing in motion. The galaxy, the stars, living things. The great mystery of existence. Whatever you want to call it."
Regis felt a knee-jerk reaction against such talk, but something held him back. He had spent many long nights lying on the roof of his little shack on Tatooine, looking up at the stars and wondering about his seemingly purposeless existence. And yet something had always pulled at his heart, insisting that he had a reason to be here. He wanted to speak about this with Luke, but he had no way to express such thoughts, and felt his jaw clenching beyond his control.
"You've felt it, haven't you?" said Luke. "Like there was something out there that guided your steps, leading you to events that stood out in your mind. Maybe even events that... redefined who you are."
Regis laughed off the sudden feeling of discomfort. "The only thing that guided my steps and got me here was that little beeping astromech droid," he said. He leaned back and hooked his elbow behind his seat, desperately trying to affect an attitude of cool level-headedness which he did not feel. "I probably should have sold him for spare parts. It would have saved me a lot of trouble!"
Luke leaned forward, fixing his blue eyes on Regis. "You did something before you found Artoo, didn't you?" he said. "You felt something strange."
Seeing that Luke was not going to let it go, Regis froze a false smile to his face as he turned away. "I was just looking for scrap," he said. "I remember it was about time for lunch, and I..."
Regis sat in uncomfortable silence as the memory came through. He was back on Tatooine, standing atop a mountain of garbage and looking at the double suns as they dipped toward the horizon. He remembered his feeling of desperation all over again, the aching sense that his life must surely have a purpose despite all evidence to contrary. Something about watching the ancient suns burning far beyond the dust heap had pulled out of him a deep yearning to live a life of meaning, to stand tall once again and be allowed to contribute what few gifts he had to give. He had wanted to matter, and so...
He had prayed to the Force.
And only a moment later, he had found Artoo.
Regis turned his gaze to Luke, and he knew the man could see right through him.
"It was only a coincidence," Regis said quietly. He did not believe himself.
"I've been from one end of the galaxy to the other, Regis, and it's been my experience that there is no such thing as coincidence. There is a Force that guides us all. In large matters and in small. But it lets us choose whether we listen or not."
"I don't have what you have."
"Everybody has what I have, to some degree. The Force speaks to all of us. You've heard it before, haven't you? You've known the outcome of things before they happen. You've known when someone was lying or telling the truth. Didn't you?"
Regis immediately thought of Peaboon, his old buddy from the scrapyard. He remembered Peaboon's tale about how he would help out with the ion thruster, and in exchange they would split the profit. At the time, he had felt certain - no, he had known for certain - that Peaboon and the Bento brothers would steal the ion thruster from him. But he had ignored the gut feeling, and when he was robbed, he had taken it as confirmation that he was a victim trapped in a cruel universe.
Unable to speak, Regis simply nodded. He felt intensely uncomfortable, as if the universe itself had pulled back its mask and given him a glimpse into something so far removed from his idea of how things worked that he had to focus on breathing so that he would not be sick. The idea that the universe itself was communicating with him, and that he could speak to it as well, was just too much.
"Are you telling me that we can make things happen just by wanting them to happen?"
Luke blinked, but held Regis's gaze. "It's complicated, but the short answer is yes. Some are better at it than others. But even those who were the best at it never learned how to make the universe, or even their own lives, everything that they wanted them to be. But if you can hear the Force, if you can feel its pull, then you know what it means to realize your life is not really your own. For thousands of years, humans and aliens have been trying to understand the Force. And just like with anything else, they disagreed about how to learn the ways of the Force. There were Jedi, and there were Sith. The light side, and the dark side. Lucitor Reo was neither. I'm starting to think there might be an... an other side of the Force."
"Did the people who ruled the Empire really practice this stuff?"
Luke nodded.
Regis did not like the idea that the Emperor and Lord Vader practiced something explicitly forbidden within the Empire. "You were a Jedi," said Regis. "So were Vader and the Emperor..."
"They were Sith."
"Is that why you were sent to kill them?"
"It's a little more complicated than that. But, like I said before, I didn't kill either of them."
"But you think... that they were evil?"
"No. Vader... actually, Anakin was his name... he was a good man, in the end."
"I already know that," said Regis. Though he was curious to find out more about this strange Force that Luke was obsessed with, he was uninterested in hearing a former Rebel's opinion on Lord Vader. "As for them not telling us about the Force... I understand the need for secrecy and disinformation in warfare. But I wish Lord Vader could have taught his soldiers a little bit about the Force. It might have..." Suddenly feeling self-conscious, Regis clamped his mouth shut, unsure why he was opening up like this. Unable to hold his tongue, he said, "Even beyond your powers, you have some sense of peace that most of us lack. Lord Vader could have taught us that, at least. Don't you think it would have been possible for us to learn this power?"
Luke sighed, looking slightly disappointed as Regis missed what was obvious to him. "Not from a Sith," he said, grimacing slightly.
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