It was dark by the time Regis lugged the astromech all the way down the hill of trash, but there were so many scavengers drinking by firelight that there was no way he could slip through unseen. Instead of trying to be sneaky, he simply set the astromech down on its wheels, then pushed it before him as he dragged his cart behind. He felt plenty of eyes following him in the night, but then again, he saw so many scavengers bragging about their great finds that he reasoned he might even make it all the way home with everything intact.

"Hey, Reggie! Found an astromech, did you?"

Regis was startled as Peaboon hopped into his path. Though Regis had been anxious to get news from him regarding the ion thruster he had found, he suddenly felt ill seeing the white-haired, ape-like Lutrillian.

"I did indeed," said Regis. "Guess we both got lucky today!"

"Well, about that," said Peaboon, scratching his head as he loped along beside Regis. "Thing is, well, wouldn't you know it - somebody stole that ion thruster! I told those Bento brothers to look after it, but... someone distracted them, a Tusken, I think it was, and then..."

As Peaboon prattled on with his tale, Regis kept his gaze fixed straight ahead. Though he had long since grown accustomed to disappointment, knowing that Peaboon was willing to rob him and then pretend to be a victim awakened an old anger. He admitted to himself that he had known beforehand that Peaboon would betray him and split the profits with the Bento brothers. Regis dared not look at him for fear that seeing the untrustworthy creature's hideous, inhuman face would cause him to lash out.

"... and I mean the boys asked around about it, but nobody seen anything, you know how it is..."

"Yeah," said Regis. "I know how it is."

"Sorry, Reggie," said Peaboon.

"Why be sorry? It's not your fault."

"I just feel responsible, is all. I owe you one, okay?"

"You don't owe me anything."

Still Peaboon loped along beside him, and Regis's frustration only grew. He wanted to be left alone.

"Hey, Reggie, want me to help you strip that astromech?"

"No, thanks. I'm taking it straight to Squanto's."

"You are? Huh. You know, you could get more money stripping it down, and selling the-"

"Yeah, Peaboon, I know how scavenging works. But after today, I'd rather get this thing to Squanto's and sell it in one piece before someone else decides to rob me."

"Hey, I hear you. I hear you. Anyway, sorry about that ion thruster..."

Peaboon turned back to the camp and Regis said nothing as he rolled the astromech into the desert. He imagined trading the astromech for a blaster rifle and paying Peaboon a visit later, but he knew that was only a daydream. Not only was it illegal for humans to own weapons without special clearance, but he had no plans to sell the astromech just yet. He wanted Peaboon to spread the story about him selling the astromech so that no one would get curious and break into his home, where he planned on keeping the astromech, at least for a little while.

Through the slats of a steel fence he saw the spaceport, where many ships sat under floodlights. His gaze lingered on the Luxuriant, a sleek, golden spacefaring yacht owned by Squanto, the Toydarian who had his finger in all the garbage that passed through Mos Eisley. Regis imagined what it would be like to get the astromech up and running, then steal the ship and fly away. He shook his head and jettisoned the daydream. The spaceport was crawling with security, and besides, he had nowhere to go. No human being had anywhere they could go.

He stopped at the gate to Mos Eisley so he could be scrutinized by the Cheka, the guardians of the New Republic. A dark Wookiee in a loose, blue uniform stood over him, growling and breathing hot air onto the back of Regis's neck while a squat, wispy-haired Ugnaught in officer's gray looked over his citizen paperwork.

While they checked his cart to make sure he was carrying no weapons, his gaze fixed on colorful propaganda beaming overhead. The holo-propaganda showed cartoon aliens holding hands, or raising their paws and tentacles in defiance against an Empire which no longer existed. The holograms were covered in slogans in various languages: "Be the RESISTANCE," and, "We are all the RESISTANCE now!" being the most common.

It made no sense to Regis. He saw similar holograms all around town. They were made and distributed by the ruling authority of the New Republic, and yet they were revolutionary in nature. Who were they revolting against? They had already won. The holograms even showed the dreaded Stralucitor, Empress Organa's white-robed alien enforcers with their lightsabers in every color of the rainbow. The four Stralucitor looked all the more freakish for being drawn in such a benign, cartoony style.

Regis had mastered the ability to hide his disgust, and kept his face a neutral mask while the Wookiee breathed down on him. Finally the Cheka waved him through the checkpoint, and he made straight for the dilapidated row of houses that made up his neighborhood.

Most of the shanties were dark, but a pool of warm light shone from the cook lady's open door. Hearing the high-pitched voice of a little boy complaining, Regis turned and went toward the hut.

"What a racket!" said Regis. "Everyone in Mos Eisley is listening in, you know!"

The cook lady was bent over a sand-spray cleaning empty bowls, her brow knitted in frustration. Her son, a dark-haired boy in rags, turned to Regis in alarm.

"Gedu!" said Regis. "What is going on?"

"Dad's drinking again!" said the boy, his frustrated expression mirroring his mother's. "And mom won't let me go and get him!"

Regis realized he probably should have dropped off his dirty dishes and minded his own business. "Well, Gedu," he said, stooping to dig through his gear. "Your father's under a lot of pressure. Times aren't good for humans."

Unconvinced, Gedu crossed his arms. "The Cheka say the New Republic brought peace to the galaxy!"

Regis snorted. "Tell that to the next family who has their house broken into. Listen, Gedu. Maybe it's not my business to say so, but your family is all you've got. If your father isn't around, then it's on you to protect your mother. You understand? Shouting and complaining about your father being gone is going to get you the kind of attention you don't want."

"I'm not trying to make trouble." Gedu's gaze lowered to the floor. His mother glanced at Regis, then looked away.

"I know you aren't. You're a good boy. A few years back, we could have used you in the military. If you were older, that is. But just because we don't have a military, doesn't mean we can be undisciplined. Now, help your mother. Alright?"

Though he knew it was a bad idea to go around talking about the old Imperial army, Regis could not help himself. He hated to see people wasting away, dwelling on frustration and anger. When he finally dug out his dirty dishes and set them on the table inside the doorway, he was surprised to see Gedu standing at attention.

"Yes, sir," Gedu said.

Regis smiled. He gave a casual salute, then continued on his way. Coming to his little house, he keyed in the code, then the door slid open. He blinked in surprise. Birdy stood in full stormtrooper armor monitoring the grill while Sindo sat with an open book trying to ignore Vasili complaining about something. They turned and looked at Regis. He blinked again - then realized his home was empty, dark, and depressingly quiet. No one was there. He shook his head, then pushed the astromech inside.

"Now, my boy," he said. "Let's see how badly they've treated you!"

Ignoring his cart of goods, he turned on the lights and crouched over the astromech. He was glad to see that the carbon scoring was not from direct laser fire, though he may have been close to some action.

"So they didn't shoot you," he said under his breath. "But you've been through something. If we can get you up and running, you can help me scavenge! It's not so bad, really. Now, let's get you plugged in and hope you don't catch fire."

He plugged the droid into a generator, then sat and waited. He was too excited to eat, so he busied himself with cleaning the droid as best he could. He had no oil, but he had plenty of basic cleaning supplies. He was so intent on his work that he was startled when the droid beeped at him.

"Oh! You're on?" he said.

The astromech turned to him, then turned away. None of its lights were on, and he had never heard the droid run through an activation cycle. He began to wonder if perhaps a Jawa was hiding inside a shell, and was playing a joke on him. The astromech beeped again, then fell silent.

"Well, that's something, at least," said Regis. "Can you run a diagnostic on yourself? If you're not too scrambled, maybe we can get you back in working order."

The droid sat silent for a long time, then gave a long, low affirmation beep before finally standing rigid. An amber "standby" light blinked slowly.

"Guess there's nothing to do but wait, I suppose. I'll just-"

A knock at the door sent his heart racing. Wondering if Gedu had perhaps run to the nearest Cheka to report an ex-Imperial hiding out in his neighborhood, Regis glanced and made sure that Big Painful was sitting in the corner. Deciding that he was being paranoid, he left the makeshift weapon where it was, then threw a blanket over the astromech. He went to the door and, opening it, found three aliens staring at him.

"Reggie, my man!" said Egiggily, a short Advozse with a horn in the middle of his head. He smiled amiably, though Regis was unnerved by the alien's pure black eyes. "Me and the boys are going to put a few back! Why not come out an' have a drink with us?"

One of the aliens, a sort of black, mousy creature, stumbled forward, then quickly righted itself. Regis laughed. While he wanted to continue working on the astromech, he knew that the diagnostic could take hours. He did not like the idea of sitting and worrying in his dark, cramped hovel. Plus he had gone out drinking with Egiggily before, and knew he was not a bad sort, as far as aliens went.

"Where we headed, buddy?" said Regis.

The third alien, a tall Duros named Jorgatu, said, "The Cantina, my good man." Though the dark green alien's red eyes also looked sinister, it was the mention of the Cantina that alarmed Regis.

"Hey, don't worry about it, Reggie," said Egiggily. "We'll look after you! And first round's on us, okay?"

Regis was annoyed by the offer of protection, but then again, with no means of protecting himself, he nodded in appreciation. "Alright boys, let's do it," he said. Though he would have preferred human company, he could not afford to be choosy. He locked his door and they set off down the darkened avenue.

"Wait 'til you guys see the new stuff they got goin!" said Egiggily. "I'm tellin' you, the Cantina ain't what it used to be!"

The mouse creature chittered excitedly.

"Well, no, not exactly," said Egiggily. "You'll like it, though. You'll see! Just wait 'til you see the girls they got over there! Hoo wee!"

"Any Twi'leks?" said Jorgatu. "I prefer maidens of a Twi'lek persuasion."

Egiggily scoffed. "The Cantina expanded to fit all these new dancing girls, and you think they forgot to get any Twi'leks? Brother, they got 'em blue, they got 'em green - they got 'em with big fat asses of every color you can imagine! They might even have a furry little Chadra-Fan for our buddy here!"

Their mousy friend, who Regis realized was actually more batlike, chittered with delight and broke into a strange dance. Regis listened in and, seeing that the others were avoiding saying the little one's name, he decided that the creature's name was most likely unpronounceable.

The aliens laughed and stumbled through the streets of Mos Eisley. Besides a few dirty looks, nobody made any trouble for them. Regis was amazed at how different it would have been if he were alone, or with other humans; he was used to keeping his head down and his mouth shut.

They could hear the Cantina booming from a block away. Over the years it had become something of a mecca of degeneracy, with visitors stopping in from all over the galaxy. The Cheka gave it a wide berth, and the open square before the entrance was filled with drunk aliens, passed out or shouting incoherently. Two big Gamorreans checked their IDs, then waved them inside.

They were struck by a solid wall of sound. It was dark inside, and seeing all the strange, inhuman forms, Regis could not help but think he had suddenly fallen into a deeper circle of hell. In a private booth on a raised platform he saw Viddu the Hutt, the so-called "Black Worm" of the criminal underworld, intertwined with another giant slug that he had to assume was a Hutt female. In the booth next to them, he saw Squanto the Toydarian reclining with several creatures that looked like they might have been female. Squanto stroked his curved nose while his green Gamorrean guard watched the crowd down below.

Egiggily found them a table, and Regis nearly crashed into it. He stood staring, dumbfounded, as his gaze suddenly fell on the impossible.

"Oh, dear," said Jorgatu. "It seems some wench has bewitched our human friend."

"Sindo?" Regis whispered.

His former teammate stood at the other end of the bar chatting with a beefy Gran, its goatlike mouth chattering oddly. If she had been a customer Regis would have been surprised enough, but the pretty redhead wore the tawdry, revealing outfit of a dancing girl. Regis's jaw clenched as the alien's three eyes probed at her. The alien leaned toward her and said something, to which she laughed.

"I think our boy's in love!" said Egiggily, laughing. "Hey, Reggie! You okay, bud?"

Sindo's eyes turned and fixed on him. She froze in recognition. At that moment Regis became painfully aware of his padded pants - the mark of a garbage scavenger. His anger quickly turned to shame, and he felt a deep desire to simply be erased from existence. Not to die, not in such a dreary place, but rather, to have never existed at all.

"Sit, sit, my new friend," said Jorgatu. "If you seem too eager, the ladies will smell your desperation."

"Right," said Regis, tearing his eyes away. "Let's get a drink."

As his companions ordered a round, he was grateful that none of them could see what he was going through. Though he was usually aggravated by constant miscommunication between himself and aliens, he was now grateful for their lack of understanding. None of them saw or cared about the pain he felt, and he did not want to change that. When his drink came, he stuck his face down in his cup and avoided looking directly at anyone.

"Hey, Reggie," said Egiggily. "You ever think about cutting up old starships? The Jawas who do that make a killing!"

"I've thought about it," said Regis.

"They make a killing!" Egiggily repeated. "We could be sitting up there in the private booths if you got into that line of work!"

Regis shrugged. "Jawas have it all sewed up. Can't get in unless they like you, and they don't like you unless you're already in."

"Ah-h-h, Egiggily," said Jorgatu, shaking his head. "Just be glad you have a job stuffing boonti into cans..."

"You think you know an awful lot, don't you, you big-headed Duros?!" Egiggily shot back.

Regis was glad when the focus of the conversation left him. Just as he put his face back down into his drink, two pale legs came to stand beside him. Horrified, he turned and looked up at Sindo.

"Scavenging, are you?" she said. She did not look quite as happy as when she was speaking to the Gran. "Last I heard, you were settled down with a family on Naboo."

Regis felt a hot flash of anger. "So where's your husband? What was it Vasili told me... you married a wealthy construction magnate from Coruscant, isn't that right?"

"Guess we're both full of it," said Sindo.

Regis was too angry to hold her gaze. He meant to turn away, but instead looked her up and down. Embarrassed, he turned away. The little mousy Chadra-Fan chittered with excitement and Egiggily laughed. Their misunderstanding at what was happening only annoyed Regis even more.

"Do a lot of drinking these days, Regis?" said Sindo.

"No, I don't," said Regis. "So don't worry, you won't be seeing me in here too often. You won't have anyone judging you for what you do."

Sindo crossed her arms, then put her hands on her hips, then crossed them once again. Her discomfort was obvious. "Look, Regis. You don't have to stay away from here. Okay? I know things didn't turn out... the way we wanted. But it is good seeing you."

Deeply uncomfortable, Regis could think of nothing to say. Sindo turned and left, saving him the effort.

"My good man," said Jorgatu, "I've seen Tuskens with greater charm than yourself."

"Yeah, what was that?" said Egiggily. "Reggie, you allergic to pretty ladies? What's the matter, you don't like humans or somethin'?"

The Chadra-Fan chittered and gestured.

"Well, I don't want to assume anything!" said Egiggily. "Maybe Reggie's a shaved Wookiee! I don't know!"

"Thanks for the drink," said Regis. "I need to go."

"Aw, come on!" said Egiggily. "Come on, man!"

"First round was on us," said Jorgatu, raising his brow. "Highly convenient to leave before it becomes one's own turn to buy."

Regis dug through his pocket, then slammed a twenty credit chip on the table. He heard a few other credits hit the ground but, seeing the eyes of all three aliens bug out at his unexpected generosity, he immediately turned and left in disgust.

Regis shoved his way through the crowd, their growls and incomprehensible chatter sounding demonic in the darkness. It was worse outside, where he had to step over inhuman freaks lying in the street, some puking, others going through the pockets of those who had passed out. Something like a giant mantis threw up violently, making a sound like fingernails on sheet metal. It was horrific, and knowing that the galaxy could have been a far different place only made the pain that much worse.

* * *

When Regis opened the door to his little house, he found scrap and tools and blankets and wires thrown everywhere. Thinking that he had been robbed and the astromech had been stolen, his heart took off racing, and he ran inside. He was surprised when the little droid turned to him from the workbench, spitting out a shrill cry as it dropped a box of screws. A small electric prod popped out of its chest, almost looking like a weapon.

"Woah!" Regis cried. "Hold on there, little guy! I'm the one who fished you out of the trash pile!"

The droid hesitated, then retracted its prod. It turned left and right. Though Regis told himself he was imagining it, it almost seemed as if the droid was uncomfortable. He shut the door before someone heard the commotion and came calling.

"Did you make this mess?" said Regis. "Unbelievable. You tore my whole house up!"

The droid beeped plaintively.

"Fixing yourself?" said Regis. "I guess I should be impressed. I thought I'd work on you here and there, and maybe in a few weeks, you could..."

Regis's gaze fixed on pieces of aged stormtrooper armor strung out on the ground. The droid had accidentally dragged out shin guards, gauntlets, even an old ass plate, while digging for tools. Regis quickly bent to pick them up.

"Hey, look, friend," he said quietly. "I get that you're scared, and wanted to fix yourself before someone came along and stripped you for parts. But this mess you made... well, some of this stuff, if people saw it, I could wind up in a lot of trouble."

The droid beeped apologetically.

Regis laughed. "At least you're polite. You don't see that too often these days. And here I thought you were going to be dead weight! What do they call you, little guy?"

The droid considered the question, then rolled forward. Though it was only a droid, Regis could feel its gaze follow him as he threw the pieces of armor in the closet. He bent over the droid and studied its identification plate.

"R2-D2," said Regis. "Mind if I just call you Artoo?"