“You thugs think you can blackmail me! And get away with it?! Well, you’re… you’re wrong!”

Senator Scandim shouted at the Cheka hanging around in his own home. The Twi’lek representative from Tatooine lived in a luxurious penthouse on Coruscant, with white-veined marble floor and walls paneled with genuine wood. His thin wrists were red and swollen from the plastic cords binding him to his chair, an antique piece given to him by a famous Corellian starship magnate. His fine robe was drenched in sweat, and he found it difficult to speak around a swollen tongue and jaw. Two Cheka guards, Gamorreans whose bellies and fat legs protruded through the seams of their blue armor, had done their best to look intimidating at first, but the interrogation had worn on for so long that they were now lounging in plush chairs, looking bored.

The shades were drawn, but Lucitor Reo’s bright pink robe glimmered in the light of a desk lamp despite the gloom. The Stralucitor, a hybrid human-Aqualish, rubbed at his butt-shaped jaw as if he was the one taking a beating. He sighed and closed his eyes, attempting to gain control over his turbulent emotions.

“Senator Scandim,” he said, slowly opening his beady eyes. “We’re far past the blackmail stage. Why can’t you understand? We told you to step down. You refused. We warned you that somebody had incriminating holo vids of you engaging in relations that your voter base would find… most unappealing. Still, you refused to step down. That information was released to the public - not by us, mind you - and then your people went into damage control. Instead of stepping down, like a mature adult, you have chosen to-”

“Spare me your preaching,” said Scandim, revealing a mouth full of fangs as he smiled cynically. “We both know what this is about.”

Reo raised one eyebrow. In the background, Scandim could hear Reo’s teammate tearing apart his bedroom in search of illicit material.

“It’s about Viddu the Hutt,” said Scandim, shaking his head. “He wants me out of the Senate, and he got you boys to do his dirty work.”

“Hardly. This comes from the Empress herself.”

“Who?” said Scandim, laughing. “Oh. Her. No, you meathead. I have plenty of friends who know things. Ahh, you might find this interesting. I know that Empress Organa bought Viddu’s tracking services when Imps started running wild in her backyard. Viddu’s Hounds failed to fix Empress Organa’s problem… but it looks like you boys are still giving Viddu what he wants. A seat on the Senate. Why, I wonder?”

“What madness!” said Reo, stretching out his hand. “I think you’ve said enough…”

“Ah! But wait, wait! It’s really not that hard to figure out! Seeing how far you boys are willing to go, it’s obvious that the Empress is afraid. She thinks… or she knows… that if she doesn’t give Viddu what he wants, he’ll send his agents to make trouble for her. Isn’t that right?”

As if sensing something, Reo turned toward the bedroom. He listened to his teammate’s garbled speech.

“It’s a policy of appeasement,” Scandim continued. “And people like us are forced to go along.”

“Us?” said Reo, distracted.

“You and me both!”

Reo scoffed. “We have nothing in common, Senator.”

Before Scandim could respond, Reo extended his hand and gripped the air. Scandim felt something like a vice closing around his throat, cutting off his air. He choked, twisting as a web of panic closed around him, while Reo casually turned away and faced his teammate.

Standing in the bedroom doorway was Lucitor Opeia. She was a broad-shouldered woman in a violet robe, with a lightsaber hanging at her waist. She was human once, but now that her genes were mixed with that of a H’nemthe, her nose protruded to absurd proportions, and her face had become a hard mask of rigid flesh. Her long, dark hair, now residing only on the very back of her head, curled around short horns. Her immobile face was no longer capable of smiling, or frowning, or even showing any emotion at all, but Reo sensed her unease.

“We’re under attack,” said Opeia, her voice a subdued rasp. “Reports coming in from the spaceport, the Galactic Financial Reserve, and from two different manufacturing plants.”

“We need to move, then,” said Reo. He released his grip on Scandim, and ignored the Twi’lek’s choking gasp. Seeing Opeia hesitate, Reo said, “There’s more, isn’t there?”

Still Opeia hesitated. Senator Scandim filled the silence, shouting, “That’ll be Viddu’s agents! He’s putting pressure on you, showing you what he can do!”

Reo hissed through clenched teeth and gripped his hand in the air once more, cutting off the Senator’s cries. Leaning in toward Lucitor Opeia, he said, “Luke is here, isn’t he?”

Glancing at the Gamorrean guards, she nodded. “Can you feel it? The Empress’s summons worked. We have to protect her.”

Reo swallowed. In a flash he remembered swinging his lightsaber at the Jedi Master, who spun and danced around him, unconcerned by Reo’s most deadly attacks. Reo was in no rush to face such a Jedi again. “The spaceport, and those plants - they’re not under attack, not really. They’re distractions. If Luke has truly fallen for the Empress’s lure, then her children are the true targets. We’ll go to them.”

“But the Empress-”

“If her brother is going for her, then he’ll die. She is more than capable of handling him. And also…” Reo searched for words carefully, as he was not sure how far he could press the matter with his teammate. He was certainly not averse to the Empress becoming injured, and losing some of the edge from her monstrous Force abilities. If anything, that would make her more dependent on the Stralucitor. But he was not sure if Opeia felt the same. “If she is wounded, we have the means to… repair her.”

Opeia’s tongue nervously licked her hard, unmoving lips. “I’ll get my ship, then. Lucitor Fenn and Thorn are already at the Medical Facility. I’ll contact them.”

“I’ll contact them,” said Reo, turning to face Scandim. Releasing his grip, the Senator hacked and coughed, then sucked in air in desperate gulps. Reo waved at his Cheka, and the Gamorrean Cheka pushed up from their seats reluctantly.

“Well, Senator?” said Reo. “Have you changed your mind about stepping down? And letting a new generation fix the problems that your generation could not?”

Still out of breath, Scandim could only force out, “No!”

Reo rubbed his buttocks-shaped cheeks. “Guess we’re forced to let you go, then.”

Scandim looked up at Reo, his surprise and hope obvious in his red-rimmed eyes.

Reo turned to one of the Cheka. “Cut the Senator free. Then disintegrate him.”

“No!” said Scandim. “No, Lucitor! You can’t!”

Lucitor Reo fetched his communicator, then gestured for Opeia to follow him as he made his way out. It was easy for him to ignore the Senator’s cries for mercy; as far as Reo was concerned, the Senator from Tatooine was already crossed off his to-do list.

* * *

Han winced as Lucitor Fenn dug into her boiled buukshi. The hybrid’s wide, lipless mouth smacked and wiggled grotesquely around chunks of gray meat hanging from the bone. A pile of similar bones sat piled up on the table.

Han looked over at his new friend, Nurse Pilena, wondering if they shared the same feeling of disgust. Unfortunately she only sat on her thin mattress, looking despondent and hopeless. Han did not blame her. While investigating the hospital, they had been caught by one of the Stralucitor, and thrown in this dreary, dark, dusty room in the forgotten upper reaches of the Medical Facility. The Stralucitor told them nothing, and asked them nothing of their business. The hybrids had only taken turns watching over them, their domineering presence preventing any escape.

Han felt worn down. He was unable to rest thanks to their dilapidated surroundings, and unable to move around because of his recent surgery and the watchful eye of the hybrid Stralucitor. But worst of all was seeing Nurse Pilena’s dreary, zoned-out expression. Han pushed himself out of his chair and glared at Lucitor Fenn.

“Alright, this has gone on long enough,” he said. “I get that you guys are running things. But if we’ve committed some crime, we need to be charged, or released. There’s some rules even you have to follow!”

Lucitor Fenn placed the entire bone in her mouth and drew it out again with a sickening sluuuurp, then chewed up the last bits of meat.

“You can’t just keep us here forever!” said Han.

Fenn wiped her hands on her bright yellow robe. She regarded Han with a raised eyebrow.

“Can’t keep you here forever?” she said. “Hm. Are the Cheka going to let you go?”

“Well… eventually, yes! They have to! The Cheka have to follow some rules.”

“Do the Cheka know you’re here?”

“They have to!”

Fenn took a drink from her pitcher, then pushed away from the table with a satisfied sigh. “Huh. Did we fill out any paperwork bringing you here? Are your names on any records? Did you sign anything? Did we post guards who can spread gossip? No. Nobody knows you’re here. Only us. And the Empress.”

“You…” Han fought to speak despite his growing anger. “So you’re just going to keep us hostage? And Leia knows about it? But why?!”

Though Fenn reminded Han of a tough mob boss uninterested in the plight of any victims, her eyes suddenly looked vacant as she stared into the distance. She spoke, her deep, rumbling voice almost sounding as if she was reading something.

“Humans have not yet learned how to be genetically hybridized,” she said. “And I think we are going to be part of the throes of that transformation, which must take place. Humans will not have the monolithic societies that they once had, before the Battle of Yavin, when the Empire fell. The Stralucitor are going to be at the center of that. It's a huge transformation for humanity to make. They are now going into a… hybridization mode. And the Stralucitor will be resented because of our leading role. But without that leading role, and without that transformation, humans will not survive.”

Han’s face twisted up in confusion. “What in the world are you talking about? Who are you even talking to?!”

Fenn blinked. As if sensing something in the hallway, she turned and glanced at the door. She pushed up heavily, moving the entire steel table as she did so. “It’s called being a decent galactic citizen!” she snapped at Han, then waddled up to the door.

The door slid open and Lucitor Thorn entered. Thorn was a small man in a baby blue robe, with his head coming to a point and his mouth ending in beak-like lips thanks to his Kowakian hybridization. Nevertheless he held an air of authority. He glanced at Han before speaking to Fenn in a subdued tone.

“We’re getting conflicting reports. Either stormtroopers are attacking all over the city, or our people are holding training exercises all on the same day.”

Fenn growled as she considered the matter. “Have our ships in orbit been attacked?”

“No. Nevertheless, I think something is happening. I believe… Luke is here.”

Han’s mouth fell open. He turned away, feigning boredom to hide what he had overheard.

“Shall we go and back up the Empress?” Fenn asked.

Thorn rubbed his tiny chin. “Lucitor Reo has suggested we form a defensive perimeter here. He says that… that Empress Organa can handle her brother on her own.”

Fenn sucked in a breath, then looked her small teammate over with a canny expression. Thorn looked away guiltily, then took in a deep breath and puffed out his chest. “I’m inclined to agree with Reo on this matter.”

Fenn chuckled in a slow, rumbling growl. “You two are so obvious. But, I agree - we stay here. This is where our destiny is decided.”

“Truly?”

“Yes. Haven’t you felt a strange presence hovering around here? Like someone spying on us?”

Thorn’s eyes darted to either side. “I have not,” he admitted.

“It doesn’t matter. What about these two? And the children?”

“Just lock the doors. They can’t go anywhere.”

“You hear that!” said Lucitor Fenn, turning to shout at Han and Nurse Pilena. “You stay right where you are. We’ll have a whole platoon of Cheka in the hallway with orders to shoot anyone caught messing around up here!”

Nurse Pilena’s head hunched into her shoulders as if expecting a blow. Han hated to see her in such a state, but raised his hands and nodded in submission. He turned away as if resigned to his fate, but listened until the hybrids shut the door behind them.

“That does it,” said Han. “We’re getting out of here.”

“W-wait!” Nurse Pilena suddenly sprang to life. “They said the Cheka out there were going to… to shoot us!”

Han tried to look cool and in command as he pushed up onto his cane. “Yeah, and a few minutes ago, that hand-me-down Hutt said they didn’t post any Cheka guards.”

“I… well…” Pilena brushed hair from her face nervously. “But the door is locked, Han!”

“I’ve been in worse situations,” he said, unsure of what exactly he could do.

“Oh. Sorry, Han, I just…” She got up, rubbing circulation back into her legs. “I’m not… not really used to this sort of thing!”

Han smiled despite his heart crashing against his ribs. “We’re not in this alone. Did you hear them mention Luke? I think I’ve got some friends looking for us!”

Han jerked as the door suddenly unlocked with a loud beep. He heard the same sound echoed on the other side of the hallway, as if another door was also unlocked at the same time. He glanced at the door, then at Pilena, whose face had turned white with fright. Han turned back to the door and lifted his cane in the air, tottering unsteadily as he did so.

The door suddenly opened, and a small, redheaded girl poked her head inside. Thinking that the tiny Kowakian hybrid had returned, Han prepared to club his attacker into oblivion.

“Uncle Han?” said Anakel. “Is that you?”