After shutting Vasili up within the maintenance hatch, Regis made his way toward the cockpit, where he found Sindo and the Wookiee, Chewbacca, bringing them in toward a dark planet lined with red veins and covered in a torn shroud of ashen cloud cover. Luke stood watching over them while Artoo rested at the recharge station.

“Well, Luke,” said Regis, “mind letting us in on the plan?”

“Mustafar,” he said.

“Mustafar? Is that your friend? You think we can trust him?”

“Mustafar’s not a man, it’s a planet. And yes, we can.”

As they drew near the dark world, Sindo descended nose-first, treating the freighter like some kind of troop dropship rather than a delicate vessel that had undergone questionable maintenance. They tore through clouds thick with soot, then she suddenly leveled out over a wind-blasted, tortured plain of jagged stones. Chewbacca whined quietly as he tried to keep up with system alerts as the Righteous strained under the course correction that did not rely on braking. Once it was obvious the ship was not going to fall to pieces, Chewbacca vented a deep, snuffling laugh, and Sindo flashed him a wry smile.

Shining rivers of molten lava cut across the Gahenn Plains, illuminating the sunless land in a hellish light. Descending further, they saw hovering trawlers casting ladar beams over lava streams while armored Mustafarians watched their scanner readouts like shamans of steel interpreting the signs indicating the presence of valuable minerals hiding in the burning rivers and lakes of fire.

Fralideja, the thriving capital of Mustafar, shone on the horizon beneath waving beams of blue and purple spotlights pointing the way to travelers. Fralideja was a booming city of steel platforms and towers growing from the mining industry. Drawing clear of the cloud cover, they saw the flashing lights of advertisements and dancing holograms concealing black towers framed by grayish-blue sky edged in soft pink, like a perpetual sunset. At the far end of the city lay the forked tower of Vader’s Fortress, a formidable structure of smooth, gleaming obsidian once occupied by a Sith Lord encased in steel and leather.

After gaining permission to land, Sindo made for a private landing pad overhanging the downtown area, where humans and aliens in rebreather masks jostled with street vendors selling deep-fried Xandank kabobs and dark - almost black - Mustafarian ale while a dizzying flurry of colorful ads on every inch of the steel towers fought for attention. Luke led them down the boarding ramp, where they were surprised to see that a welcoming party had already come to meet them.

A man with dark, wavy hair in a bright red silk shirt and cape led a group of Kaleesh and Mustafari military contractors in dark uniforms and blaster rifles. A pale cyborg with a blinking cranial attachment followed the man in red. Regis noted the serious expression on their leader’s face, and his blood ran cold.

“Luke,” Regis hissed. “What’s going on? We need to-”

“No, it’s okay!” said Luke, glancing back at his companions. “This is my friend, Lando Calrissian!”

Lando raised a fist and his guards stopped, then fanned out along the perimeter of the landing pad. Lando slowly approached, looking Luke up and down as if gauging a threat.

“Luke, you can’t stay here,” said Lando. “You should know that I have orders to arrest any political exiles who show up. Even you.”

Regis eyed the guards with his pulse hammering in his temples.

Luke’s expression fell. “You really mean that?”

“No.” Lando’s look of concern broke into a wide smile. “Good to see you, old buddy!”

Regis jumped as Lando darted toward Luke, then embraced him. Regis exhaled, noting that Chewbacca was shaking his head and chuckling as if used to this behavior.

“Chewie!” said Lando, beaming at the Wookiee. “And Artoo? You guys still hanging out with this xenophobe?” He laughed, patting Luke on the chest.

“Well, it wasn’t entirely up to them,” said Luke. “I’ve gotten a lot of people in trouble that they don’t deserve. We could really use your help, Lando.”

“Don’t worry about it, Luke,” said Lando, with one hand on Luke’s shoulder. “There’s a lot of people out there who like to tell me things, so I know more than you think. You came to the right place. We’ll get this sorted out. Alright?”

“Now hold on, Luke,” said Regis, stepping up. “Technically I dragged you into this mess, didn’t I? You can’t take all the glory for this.”

Lando turned to Regis and gave him a cursory examination. Regis could feel the man’s friendly aura turning chilly.

“Oh, Lando,” said Luke, “this is… my friend, Regis. And this is Sindo. And this is… oh?”

Luke cast his gaze around, surprised that Vasili had not come down with them. Wanting to distract him, Regis began to speak, but Lando cut him off.

“It’s good to meet you both,” he said, giving Regis and Sindo a tight-lipped smile. “I’m Lando Calrissian, Director of the Mustafar Mining Commission and planetary governor of Mustafar.” Opening his arms wide, he said, “Let’s take a walk, and we’ll get you set up with a room.”

* * *

“Our suicide rate is through the roof, but things are getting better,” Lando said as he led them through an administrative facility. The black floor was so smoothly polished that Regis could see his own reflection looking up at him. He saw hard-shelled insectoids and Mustafarians in red uniforms working at holographic projections of work sites.

“Suicide rate?” said Luke, gritting his teeth.

“The Empire brought a lot of humans here to increase the pool of labor,” said Lando. “And it worked fine for a while. With the Empire gone, we expanded the facilities, and that’s when the corporate interests started pushing against the mining unions. Alien labor was brought in to make negotiations moot. So…” Lando shrugged. “Yes, technically, things look bad, at least from a certain metric. But we’ve constructed nets over a lot of the lava flows to keep people from jumping in, and the Hutt Cartel is supplying us with lots of different pharmaceutical solutions to help people get back on their feet.”

As they passed by a window overlooking a bleak, open air mall filled with hover car traffic honking and fighting for space over the heads of shoppers poring over cheap gadgets, Luke’s gaze was drawn to a large, blinking holo-graffiti piece projecting over the mall. Though visually confusing, it looked to be two pieces placed one on top of the other. The first showed a crude sketch of a monkey and bold script reading, “HUMANS SUCK HOT LAVA” but it had been scribbled over with an Imperial wheel and text reading, “ALIENS GET THE BLASTER”.

“What’s that?” said Luke. “Are you having trouble with human and alien relations?”

“Oh, don’t mind the graffiti,” said Lando. “It’s actually a little more complicated than it looks. Our research has shown that the anti-human graffiti was actually made by humans. And the anti-alien graffiti? Well, it’s made by aliens. Oppressed groups get bonuses in our social credit system, so it’s in everyone’s best interest to oppress themselves. We’re, uh… we’re looking at ways to curb that. It’s a work in progress.”

“A work in progress?” Luke said, sounding unconvinced.

Lando kept his gaze fixed straight ahead. “One thing that’s helped curb some of the discontent around here is the hybridization project. Say what you will about them, humans having their genes tweaked with alien DNA has really done a lot to get the different groups talking, rather than fighting. We’ve got a thriving hybrid community here on Mustafar!”

Regis tried to share a look with Sindo, but her gaze was fixed on a wide doorway giving them a view of hundreds of workers enjoying their lunch break while surrounded by vid screens and holographic displays. The screens showed scenes from all across the galaxy, one rapidly shifting into another.

“Mister Calrissian,” said Regis, “what is going on in there?”

“Ah,” Lando nodded. “You’ve noticed our information network. The New Republic’s labor psychology and human resources experts have determined that information about the universe we live in isn’t just important to leaders. Even common laborers like having an understanding of what’s happening on the other side of the galaxy, if you can believe it. It makes people feel connected.”

Regis slowed down so that he could take a longer look at the breakroom. He was surprised that not only were giant vid screens relaying news of distant events, but many of the workers had handheld data pads giving visual and text-based news from other worlds.

“Makes them feel connected?” said Regis. “That’s funny. Nobody in there is talking to anybody. They’ve got their noses down in their screens!”

“I admit, it looks strange at first,” said Lando, turning to look back at Regis. “But it’s a fact that we really started to get a grip on our suicide rates once the news network was opened up. We’re hoping to get the network extended to other labor-intensive worlds.”

Regis wanted to get Luke’s attention, but the Jedi Master only stared ahead as they continued through hallways of gleaming black stone and steel. Once again, Regis was unimpressed with one of Luke’s friends; once again, Regis began to feel nervous.

“Here we go,” said Lando, pointing to a wide steel doorway. “We can get something to eat, then you can rest and we’ll discuss our next step.”

Lando signaled to a guard, who moved to activate the door’s control panel. Before he could touch the panel, Luke’s head swiveled around.

“Wait!” he shouted.

Regis froze. The door opened, revealing a black stone chamber bathed in harsh white light. A woman in a gleaming white robe stood up from her seat at a long dinner table, her pale face beaming with a triumphant smile. Beside her stood a red Mandalorian and an enormous white Wookiee. On either side of the room stood two lines of the Empress’s Republican Guard in long violet robes and impassive masks.

“Leia!” Luke shouted.

As Regis went for his concealed blaster, a Mustafarian guard placed a warning hand on his shoulder - and the barrel of a blaster at his jaw. Another guard grabbed Sindo, and two more directed their blaster rifles at Chewbacca, who howled in confusion.

As Mogo and Beefhead raised their blasters, Empress Organa lifted both her hands.

“Please, gentlemen, there’s no need for violence,” said Leia. “In fact, I would be honored if you would join us.”