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Luke Skywalker, the Last Jedi, faces his toughest challenge yet. To rebuild the Jedi Order, he must give up his personal hopes and dreams. Every move is critiqued by not only the New Republic Senate but also the Force-ghost Je...
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❶ While hanging out at Maz's place, Han's comlink woke him from his week-long stupor. After reading the communiqué, he lunged about the tavern, looking for that Wookiee.
The mouthwatering scent of spiced meat filled Han's lungs. He turned on his heels and followed the trail to a dark corner of the tavern. He should have known he would find Chewie hanging out with Maz. He was eating a huge bantha steak at a table in a dark alcove, chortling at the diminutive creature's comments.
"There you are. I've been looking all over for you."
Chewie barked back a few words.
"I can see you're busy," Han said while twisting his lips in frustration. "Excuse me, Maz, but I need this guy."
"So do I." Maz wrapped her arm around the Wookiee's and kissed his snout.
"Chewie, we've got a job."
His partner inquired with a few growls.
"Not entirely legal, but it won't matter. We won't get caught. A shipment of colonial supplies for the Irving Brothers from Ord Mantell to Quellor," Han said placing his hands on his hips. "Easy trip, easy money. Nothing can go wrong."
Maz asked, "Isn't Ord Mantell still interdicted by the Republic?"
Chewie barked his concerns, too.
"I've got that covered. Being a former general does have its benefits, after all."
A memory of Leia on Endor flooded his mind, catching him off-guard. Injured yet ready to blast a stormtrooper away, she had saved them both.
Han fought down the intruding reminder of his painful existence and returned to business.
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