Star Wars: The Colors of the Force

Chapter 2

Naluma leaned her back into Luke's chest as he wrapped his arms around her waist. For the first time in over a year she wasn't wearing a blasted Jedi uniform, and neither was he. And there was no way she was donning a utility belt with her sundress. At least the belt with two lightsabers swinging from it didn't look too out of place over Luke's slacks.

The Nabooan customs and immigration line on the Theed landing platform was taking forever, but she didn't care as long as she was in the sunlight. The blessedly hot sunlight. Even in her purple halter sundress she was warm. The slight breeze was just enough to dry the perspiration. It made waiting in line a pleasure, as long as she was with Luke.

Eventually, they reached the customs agent, a compact woman in a uniform of deep blue and maroon piping. Sweat dripped from her brow, and her curly hair was plastered to her scalp. "Passports and declarations, please."

While Luke fished out their papers, Naluma grabbed her New Republic identification cylinder from her spaghetti-strap clutch. The heavenly scent of roasted meat from the food carts across the terminal drew her like a tractor beam. Naluma's stomach grumbled like a Hutt's.

Agent Sorcha, as her name tag read, handed them back their code cylinders. "What brings you to Naboo, Master Skywalker and Jedi Fau."

"Sh." Luke looked around and asked, "Could you keep it down? We're trying to get away. Personal vacation."

She sized them up before asking, "Then why the lightsabers?" Both Naluma's and Luke's swung on his belt.

Naluma grimaced.

"Never go anywhere without them. It's part of the code," Luke said.

The official crossed her arms and blocked the turnstile. "I'm sorry, but we cannot allow anyone to bring weapons onto the planet. They will need to remain on your craft."

Luke cocked his head and raised his eyebrows at Naluma.

She grinned. Might as well.

The Jedi Master lifted his long fingers and waved them in front of the agent's face. "We can keep our weapons."

She repeated with a blank face, "You can keep your weapons."

"There is no need to declare them."

"There is no need to declare them."

"Enjoy your visit."

"Enjoy your visit," she echoed as she unlocked the turnstile.

Once through, Naluma broke out in laughter. That never gets old, she sent as thought to Luke.

Oh, want to be the next victim of a Jedi mind-trick?

Don't you dare.

With the setting sun emblazoning the warm marble in an ethereal glow behind them, Luke maneuvered Naluma in front of him and ran his fingers through her long hair, for once hanging free down her back. He tilted her head in his hands and touched his lips to hers. "We're finally free. Finally here." He motioned to the sprawling city around them. "What do you want to do first?"

Her stomach growled again, speaking for her. "Dinner. That roasting ata smells so good."

Luke pulled up the map on his datapad and paged through restaurant listings. "Here's one, not too far from here. Specializes in traditional Nabooan fare. Want to try it?"

Naluma wriggled under his arm and peered over his datapad. The device scrolled pictures of braised meats, roasted seafood, steamed noodles, and rich sauces. "Yeah, that looks great." She contemplated him in his khaki slacks and light-blue plaid dress shirt. "You think they'll let us in looking like this?"