Star Wars: Lightforce

Chapter 21

Han and Chewbacca made a long sweeping approach to their landing strip on Takodana, taking in the picturesque forests, mountains and lakes. Leia came to join them in the cockpit, a sandy-coloured cloak over her jumpsuit, ready to disembark into the crisp late autumn weather. She leaned over Han's chair to look out of the view screen.

"It's beautiful," she enthused. Han nodded.

"It's a wild, unspoilt beauty but, yeah. It's nice," he agreed. Leia sat down behind them.

"So, tell me about this friend of yours," she enquired.

He looked back at her, took in her cloak, her raised hood that was reminiscent of the one she wore when they first met. He thought, if Luke could see her now, Jedi-like in her robes save for the lighter coloured cloth, he would certainly be pressing the Jedi training agenda. Her eyes expectantly awaited an answer.

"She's an old friend, an ex-smuggler." Chewbacca grunted gently. "Yeah," Han agreed, his eyes widening. "Very old. Like, over a thousand years old," he emphasised. Now it was Leia's turn to widen her eyes. "She's quite a character; takes a bit of getting used to, but you'll like her," he continued.

"Where have I heard that before?" She was cynical, Bespin springing to mind.

"Chewie and I have been buying specialist parts here for years and we can trust her. She's a great source of information. Knows what's going on... everywhere! At least, if she doesn't, she knows who to put you in touch with who does." Leia nodded. "She runs a colourful watering hole now. Not your usual haunt," he nodded his head at her "but you'll have to turn a blind eye to some of it."

"I survived Jabba's palace didn't I?" she reminded him.

"Someday you'll have to explain to me how you did that."

Managing to single-handedly kill a crime lord several times larger than herself was no mean feat and was still a mystery to him. He had been blind from the carbon freeze for the whole episode and she hadn't elaborated on any of it. He was very familiar with Jabba's licentiousness and aware of the repugnant way he treated the women he enslaved. Han didn't want to imagine what had happened to her but guessed that Leia must have found the strength to teach Jabba a lesson, and succeeded in doing what hundreds of disgruntled minions and contractors had tried and failed to do before her. The difference was that they were all afraid of the Hutts and, if there was something that had to be done, Leia just got on with it, fear or no fear.

"You don't want to know," she replied quietly.

#

Leaving 3PO to guard the Falcon, they walked the short distance from their landing spot, round the forest hugged lake, towards an imposing stone, castle-like structure bearing the flags of almost every kind. Leia marvelled at it's architecture, wondered which species had originally built it and whether subsequent occupants had added on to it's battered structure. Perhaps it had always belonged to Maz. Han had said she was over a thousand years old.

As they rounded the corner of the castle, a gigantic stone statue came into view. It could hardly be missed, dominating the top of the entranceway; a female figure, of a species Leia didn't recognise, practically dressed with her arms held high in a welcoming manner. She craned her neck to look at it as they approached the doorway and hoped the receptive pose of the statue was indicative of the hospitality they could expect inside.

"Maz," Han informed her, pointing at the statue as they climbed the stone steps to the entrance. "Ready?" he asked her. She nodded.

Han pushed open the heavy wooden doors to the castle and entered the cavernous room beyond. Leia was hit by a wall of sound and smells. The room was crowded, every nook and cranny filled with a myriad of different beings, some of which she recognised and others she didn't. There were bound to be a few she hadn't come across before in her diplomatic travels, this was the Outer Rim after all. All were imbibing an assortment of drinks, some inhaling smoke from dubious looking bubbling contraptions on the tables and all conversing noisily in their various languages. Music filled the gaps in the conversation and she noticed the band, made up of five different species, in the corner. It smelled like a Devaronian brothel; a mixture of bodies and sweet, intoxicating spice.