Regis woke with a start. He was lying propped against a tree, in the weeds where Luke had thrown him. Through a smudge of daylight shining through the mist, he saw the Rebel assassin sleeping or meditating on a log, with his hands crossed in his lap. Artoo sat at his feet, idling in standby mode.

Regis was embarrassed. He must have shut down from the shock of realizing that his quest was in vain, unable to process the fact that he had thrown away even what little of a life he had. Then again, would he have been relieved to wake up back on Tatooine, with Peaboon and Squanto and everyone else trying to rip him off?

As he stirred, he was surprised to see Sindo sitting next to him. She wore a brilliant blue jacket made of shimmering patterns that looked completely out of place in the muddy swamp. She cradled his rifle in her lap. Despite his embarrassment, he was amused by her look of concern.

"You okay?" she said quietly.

"I feel a lot better," he said. "Nothing like a nap in the weeds for a hangover."

"That's good. But, I mean, are you... okay?"

Turning away, he shrugged. "I shouldn't have dragged you into this," he said, watching Luke across the clearing. "Has he done anything? Is he...?"

"He said we should rest before going to his home. He hasn't even listened to Artoo's message."

"His home," Regis repeated, scowling. Rubbing his face, he decided that it actually would have been better to wake up back in Mos Eisley. There, he was free to dwell on the narrative that he was the victim. Now, he had to deal with the fact that he had stranded Sindo in this hellhole.

"It's not that bad," said Sindo.

Regis scoffed.

"Well, is it?" she shot back.

"You serious?"

Sindo shrugged. "I was pretty mad. You're lucky you passed out after getting tossed by that man. Otherwise you would've had to deal with me - and I wouldn't have pulled my punches."

"It's not too late."

"Well. Look at it like this. You see how much alcohol was on our ship?"

"Don't remind me," said Regis, feeling queasy at the thought.

"No, seriously. Luke said there's a bunch of people who live here. Prisoners, exiles, even some kids. But there's no Cheka. No security at all."

"Oh yeah?"

Sindo's voice dropped conspiratorially. "We're the only people with alcohol... and guns."

Regis smiled. "Maybe we could restart the Empire right here. What do you say?"

"Think I'm joking? Remember the penal colony on Kashyyyk? The inmates used their toilets to brew alcohol!"

"Ugh! How could I forget? The Snivvians were the worst. Nasty pigs. We never did figure out how they were distributing their rotgut."

"Well... I knew where they were hiding it. I just didn't have the stomach for a full cavity search."

Regis's smile vanished. "Is that how they were doing it?"

Sindo nodded.

Regis's mouth fell open. "You're telling me those aliens were drinking Snivvian ass juice for a buzz?"

Sindo nodded again. Regis winced.

Something howled in the distance and Sindo glanced in its direction. Her shoulders were hunched, and he could tell that she was doing her best to look calm as she made the best of a horrible situation. The fact that she would even make an attempt to lighten his mood somehow hurt him even more. He searched for something to say, but an apology somehow did not seem adequate, so he sat in stubborn silence.

Luke blinked and rose from his seat. He tapped Artoo to wake him, then approached Regis and Sindo. "Care for some soup?" he said. "Please, follow me."

* * *

Unable to find comfortable hiking clothes in the Luxuriant, Regis dressed in a white nobleman's breeches and tunic trimmed in gold, and put his stormtrooper armor in a backpack. With a blaster hanging from his hip, he and Sindo followed Luke through the fetid jungle. He was more than a little annoyed to see Artoo following Luke rather than him.

They made their way up a hill where twisted trees clung to the sides, and thick clumps of hanging vines provided a means to haul themselves up the steep sides. Regis kept thinking Artoo would fall behind, only to see him appear waiting ahead of them, beeping impatiently. Regis eyed Luke, somehow intuiting that the Rebel assassin had something to do with it. The sun was high overhead by the time they reached the top, and as the oppressive heat chased away the mist, they saw the Dagobah penal colony down below.

A wide, mud-choked valley no doubt created by ancient meteor impact stretched out like a bowl filled with trash. They saw hundreds of aliens and humans crawling over great piles of metal scrap, uprooting what meager treasures they could find. They were dressed in filthy rags, their hands and faces and knees covered with makeshift protective padding.

"By the Emperor," said Regis, "I think I've managed to find a home even worse than Tatooine."

"I don't see any guards," said Sindo. "So there's really no Cheka here?"

"That's right," said Luke. "Once the Cheka drop the prisoners off, they leave them on their own. Even if they wanted to escape, there's nowhere to go. A supply ship comes about once a month, and we exchange scrap for essentials. Medical supplies, things like that."

Regis eyed Luke up and down. "You fish for scrap, too?"

"No," said Luke. "It wouldn't be fair."

Regis scoffed. "Wouldn't be fair, would it? I guess that's what I used to think, too. Back when I lost everything, and ended up digging through scrap on Tatooine."

"You come from Tatooine?" said Luke, looking surprised.

"Not originally, no, but that's where I ended up."

"You misunderstand. About it not being fair." Luke turned to watch the poor dregs picking through trash. "It's not fair because I can see the best scrap, even if it's hidden. I can find the most valuable pieces without looking, so it's not fair to the other scavengers. But I try to stay useful. I keep everyone from fighting, and my kids are in charge of the farming, so I help with that, too."

"You have kids here?" said Sindo, jaw dropping in alarm.

"They're not mine, not biologically. They were sent here because their families... well, their parents upset the Empress. So they were sent here, alone, as a way to punish the family. So I look after them."

"That's horrible," said Sindo.

Though it was obvious to Regis that the Rebel assassin should not have taken the comment personally - he wasn't the one who sent the children into exile, after all - he still looked deeply hurt.

"I admit..." Luke said finally. "I admit, I thought things would turn out differently. After we defeated the Empire, I mean."

Regis pointed at the scavengers. "Look at that," he said. "The humans are sticking together, working in groups. There's some Gungans, working in a group. And there's some Rodians working together. They've even got one of their boys doing nothing but standing on lookout, watching for trouble."

"What of it?" said Sindo.

"Nobody's holding hands like in the propaganda. Without anyone forcing them to work together, they naturally form into groups they can trust. It's even more extreme than on Tatooine, where we had the Cheka making sure we all played nice together."

"You know, you're right," said Sindo. "I've kind of seen that myself, on other worlds. Instead of working together, the different species form communities of their own kind, unless the New Republic actively steps in, like they did on Tatooine."

Regis turned to Luke. The Rebel assassin said nothing, only clenching his jaw as he averted his gaze. It was obvious to Regis that the poor man had grown up believing that humans and aliens could be friends, that life was a grand adventure that one could enjoy with all kinds of friendly, nonhuman lifeforms. Regis felt an odd desire both to put the man at ease, but also to assert that he himself was more than just a hard luck story.

"We can help you keep them in line," said Regis. "The aliens, I mean."

Luke looked at him, but said nothing.

"I'm sure the humans could use some discipline, too," said Sindo.

"Right you are," said Regis. "Anyway, is that offer for soup still on? I'm starving."

Luke nodded, then continued on. They followed him in silence.

* * *

Luke's hut was a surprisingly well-crafted wooden cabin made of one large room, with a plethora of bags stuffed with feathers acting as chairs and beds. Luke's children served Regis and Sindo mushroom soup, large misshapen crackers, and spiced milk.

Partway through their second serving, Regis realized the younger children were staring at them. He was glad that the older children had the sense to avert their gaze; some even seemed to be meditating. He guessed that Luke was probably teaching the children his weird religion. He could also tell that the Rebel assassin had not given up on his love of aliens, as several of the children were hideous non-humans, though at least they did not seem to be bullying the human children. The alien children of a goblinoid species that Regis had never encountered, some with green skin, others with red. There was a young human girl with golden hair, perhaps in her teens, that would have been pretty if she was allowed to grow up within civilization. Pitying her, he offered her a smile, but she immediately averted her gaze.

Luke sat in silence while Artoo prodded at his cybernetic hand with his manipulator. Finally Artoo bleated impatiently.

"Is that so?" said Regis. "You haven't listened to your message yet, Luke?"

Luke pulled his metal hand away from Artoo and flexed his fingers. Though the covering of false flesh was discolored from lack of maintenance, he was at least able to move his hand once again. He slowly donned his black glove. "No," he said.

"No? Why not?"

Luke sighed, then looked over his children. "Because I have a bad feeling about it. I know everything will change as soon as we hear the message."

Regis raised his eyebrows. "Well, whatever he tells you - take it with a grain of salt."

Artoo trilled uncomfortably and Regis immediately felt bad about the comment, but kept his attention fixed on the inside of his empty bowl.

"Luke, sir," said the young girl, "should we...?"

"No, you can stay. This is going to affect all of us."

Artoo beeped in protest, but Luke shook his head.

"Go on and play it, Artoo. They need to hear it, too."

Artoo hesitated, then projected a hologram into the center of their circle. Several of the younger children looked on in shock, and Regis wondered how long it had been since they had seen such technology. Regis expected to see the woman in the white dress again, but instead, he saw a slender, golden robot standing in the blue beam. He had the kindly, approachable face of a protocol droid.

"Threepio!" said Luke, smiling.

"Master Luke," said the hologram, "I hope you are doing well, and I hope that you remember me: I am C-3PO, human-cyborg relations."

Regis could clearly pick up the notes of a personality hiding behind the layers of perfect politeness. Like Artoo, the droid must have been in operation for a long time, and had developed quirks. Though he was concerned that yet another droid was seeking to exert influence over human lives, he was glad that Luke, at least, was happy to see him.

"Sir," said Threepio, "I must tell you that... well..."

"I'll take over, Threepio," said a voice beyond the camera's range.

"Oh!" said Threepio, turning. "Of course, Master Antilles."

A handsome, dark-haired man in the indigo half-cape of a senator walked into view. "Hello, Luke," he said with a sad smile. "It's me, Wedge."

Though Luke held his face with rigid immobility, his eyes widened. Regis knew they had the man's attention.

Wedge continued. "Luke, I hope you know I've been trying everything possible to get you back here. And I'm not the only one. But we haven't been able to do anything for you, and I apologize. And that's what makes this even more difficult. We thought you needed us, but in reality, we need you." Looking suddenly nervous, Wedge said, "Watch the door, will you, Threepio? Technically, this is treason."

"Of course, Master Antilles," said Threepio, moving off-screen.

"Things are bad here," said Wedge, turning back to the camera. "No... it's bad everywhere. We tried to build something good, something just, but it's turned into a nightmare. Luke, the Empress is not of sound mind. She's not just making concessions to aliens, she's handing the galaxy over to them. I don't know how it happened, but she's developed a grudge against humans - her own species! Aliens are given preferential treatment in everything, and it's getting more and more difficult for humans to find work. Human worlds are being flooded with aliens. Wealthy humans are fleeing the New Republic, and humans who can't afford to leave are stuck in a situation worse than... well, I hate to say it, Luke, but it's worse than the Empire."

Looking around once again, Wedge continued. "Luke, I don't know if you've heard of this, but there's a lot of talk about hybridization. The Empress's doctors have found a way to splice human genes with alien genes. The mortality rate is around forty percent, but even the people who survive the operation sometimes wish they hadn't. Those goons, the Stralucitor - they've all undergone hybridization. Most people can't even stand to look at them anymore. And the Empress is even pushing her own children to have the operation! Luke... if this trend keeps going, then pretty soon there won't be any humans left in the galaxy!"

Regis swallowed with some difficulty. Comfortable only a moment before, the cabin now felt hot and close. Glancing at Sindo, he saw her clenching her jaw in anger. He could not imagine what she had done with aliens in order to get by, but to think that there were people out there mutilating their own genes in order to become something inhuman... to Regis, it was unthinkable.

"Luke, I'm going to send Artoo and a team of loyal humans to break you out of Dagobah. They're all veterans... Rebels, from the good old days. Though we haven't done much of anything to help you, I beg you, Luke... please, come back, and convince Empress Organa to put an end to her anti-human policies." Stooping to end the recording, Wedge hesitated, then said, "You're our only hope now, Luke. May the... may the Force be with you."

The recording ended, and a heavy silence hung over the room. Finally the young girl turned to Regis and Sindo. "So you were sent to save Master Luke...?" she said. "That means you can get us out of here!"

The hope in her voice cut through the shield of cynical anger that Regis had developed over the course of the years. "No," he managed. "Those people are dead. I dug Artoo out of the garbage, and got him running again. We're stuck here."

"Do you know what he was asking of you?" said Sindo.

Confused, Regis turned and saw her staring at Luke. He flexed his robotic hand, then looked at her. "What do you mean?" he said.

"He was asking you to kill the Empress."

"No."

"He was," said Sindo, undaunted. "He couldn't say it out loud, or else he would have been tortured and executed if he was found out. But that's what he was asking you to do."

"He would know better than to ask me that," said Luke.

Sindo laughed dryly. "You think he was literally asking you to have a chat with the Empress? And reason with her? Convince her to stop oppressing her own species?"

"I do."

"Why?" Sindo scowled in frustration. "Why would Empress Organa listen to you?"

Luke leveled his gaze at her. "Because she's my sister," he said.

"Your... sister?" said Regis. "Empress Organa is your sister?"

"Yes," said Luke, sounding suddenly distracted. He quickly rose to his feet, adding, "Someone's here."

"But I don't hear..." Regis fell silent as he heard a ship braking, then cutting its engines quickly. He and Sindo hopped up and raced for the door.

They made their way through the misty valley, their boots squelching in mud as they followed the sound of voices shouting in alarm. Realizing that Sindo was marching beside him, they exchanged a look.

"His sister," he growled at her.

"Her brother," she responded, shaking her head.

"I said stay back, boy! Or whatever you are!" a familiar voice shouted. "Do you not know what this thing is? You want me to put a hole in your big head, boy?!"

The mist parted before a gentle rise covered in brown swampgrass, and they saw an aged freighter sitting crookedly atop the mound. It was a small, blocky ship, the type that corporations used to supply small colonies rather than large urban centers. The hull was blackened and pockmarked by laser fire, as if it had survived abuse. Before the entry hatch they saw a lean, scruffy man with dark hair in maroon coveralls waving a blaster at a group of ragged prisoners gathered before the ship. The man pivoted on a robotic leg that was stiff with age. Regis's mouth fell open in shock, and Sindo stopped in her tracks. The man in coveralls aimed his blaster at them, his eyes narrowing with distrust.

"Vasili?" said Regis. "Is that you?"

Vasili laughed dryly, lowering his blaster. "Sergeant? Lucky I found you! And Sindo, you're here? Nice jacket!"

Regis stared in disbelief at his old teammate, the sniper of Omicron Squadron whose leg had been used as an Ewok chew toy. The impossibility of their meeting gave Regis an odd sense of being in a dream.

"Vasili, I don't understand! What are you doing here?"

"You called me, Sergeant!" Vasili responded, leveling his blaster at a squat goblinoid edging up to the boarding ramp. "I came as quick as I could, sir."

"I..." Regis scoffed. "Vasili, I never called you!"

"Could this be a trap?" Sindo said quietly.

"Oh, you called me alright, Sergeant," said Vasili. "And I can prove it. But we better be quick about it. I had to push this hunk of junk through a Cheka blockade to get down here. I don't think they're too happy about it!"