Chapter 8
I'd flown in plenty of rust buckets in my day, but there was something truly special about the Falcon. I'd gotten used to the sound the Sabre's engines made, the way it was almost melodic in comparison.
"Any idea what that ticking sound is?" I asked Han from the seat behind him.
"That's just a little extra ambiance for the trip," he said without even looking back at me. "Enjoy the music."
I folded my arms, giving Luke a wary eye beside me. He just smiled back. He was used to trips in this thing, I wasn't. Each time Han offered us a ride I always wondered if it would be our last.
"I know ships can be sentimental and all," I mumbled, thinking of the departed Fire. "But at some point, you have to retire them…"
Han and Chewie both stiffened in unison, before glancing at each other in disbelief. Han shot a hard glance back at Luke. "Kid, so you know, I'm directly holding you responsible for whatever she says."
Luke sighed playfully. "Sorry Han, she just doesn't realize quite how…attached you are to the Falcon. Mara is very practical."
"Well, the Falcon is family, and you don't send family to the scrapyard," he defended, all mock hurt and sorrow.
"Family?" I teased. "And what am I again?"
"No offense, Mara, but the Falcon is a blood relative."
I rolled my eyes. "Well, now I know where I stand in the scheme of things…"
Han tossed me a smirk from over his shoulder. "But if it makes you feel any better, you've got nothing to worry about. This old girl has at least another century left in her."
I truly shuddered to think of this heap in a century…
But if the means of transportation weren't bad enough, the destination wasn't doing much for my mood either. Tatooine, more dust, and endless heat. I was really starting to hate sand…
The fact that we'd be chasing low lives wasn't making it any better. Somewhere along the line, I'd gone from wanting this mission to heat up, to being a little exhausted by the whole thing. I was getting old and soft, wasn't I…?
But neither of us was truly willing to quit, Marcus was depending on us. I couldn't really put my finger on why, but something about this mission felt strangely important. Was the Force really leading us somewhere?
Either way, I figured we'd get the chance to find out soon enough. The dusty pale orange of Tatooine came into view, and Han prepared our descent trajectory. A move that landed us in Mos Espa, a capital that claimed to be the home of legitimate law and order since Jabba croaked. But honestly, I didn't buy it for a second. There would always be something seedy about Tatooine, that was a given. And considering we were here to meet one of Han's old crooked contacts, I assumed I was right.
"Now," Han briefed us before we made it down the landing ramp. "Just follow my lead, okay?"
"Hey, this isn't my first time off the farm, Solo," I said dryly. Then glancing at Luke I frowned. "Uh, no offense…"
He sighed playfully. "None taken…"
We both followed Han, Chewie bringing up the rear. I didn't bother saying it, but I knew where we were headed. It was a bar, it always was. And in the small chance, it wasn't, it would be a dark alley. The force wasn't the only constant in the universe…
And I was right on both counts because he led us down a dark alley to a bar.
Slipping inside he quickly led us to a booth. Then Han ordered himself and Luke some liquor before glancing at me awkwardly. "And hey, get some bantha milk for the lady, will ya!"
I glared an extra breathing hole in him. "Bantha milk?"
He shrugged cluelessly. "What? Babies like milk, don't they?"
My eyebrow twitched dangerously, and Luke was quick to try and defuse the situation. "Actually, I think I'll get milk too," Luke quickly amended his order, before smiling sincerely. "It does remind me of home anyway…"
I crossed my arms, the ripples of my annoyance bouncing off Luke's simple contentment. "That should make a great first impression…two teetotalers."
"It's not a big deal, Frittz won't mind, he trusts you just cause you're with me."
I couldn't really say the same… And it wasn't about trust anyway, it was about pride and image, both of which I'd lost somewhere along the way…
"Speaking of which," I said, desperate to change the subject. "Where is this friend of yours, Solo?"
"He'll be here, in the meantime, let's just relax a bit, eh?"
"Right…" I mumbled as the waiter pushed a frosty glass of blue milk in front of me. "Nothing relaxes the senses like bantha milk…"
Luke on the other hand seemed to relish his first sip. "Ah, it tastes just like home…"
I slid a little further down in my seat. This was going to be a very long day…
Half a painful hour later, our contact showed up. He was a shifty-looking human about Han's age. The scar on his left cheek begged for an elaborately embellished story to explain it. I only hoped he wouldn't bother trying to fill us in…
"Frittz?" Han lit up as the scruffy character slid into the booth beside him."
"Sorry I'm late, can I buy you all another round?" he asked the rest of us.
"Thanks, but we're good," I said before anyone else could argue. The last thing I wanted was more blue milk…
Frittz didn't waste any time ordering for himself though. He took a shot of the brandy before commencing with the obligatory small talk. "You look like you've been well cared for, Solo," he teased. "That easy New Republic life getting to ya?"
"Not at all," Han shot back, swishing the liquor in his glass. "It's just I was always better looking than you."
His friend laughed before glancing at Luke. "And you must be the famous Skywalker, am I right?"
It was obvious this guy liked to hear the sound of his own voice, but I didn't sense any deception from him at least. Or at least the dangerous kind…
"It's nice to meet you, please call me Luke," he replied politely.
Frittz nodded before turning his attention to me with a sheepish grin that said he was admiring the view. "My you're not a princess too, are you? These New Republic types were always luckier with women than the rest of us."
I gave the best fake smile I could manage. "No, not royalty, I was a smuggler," I confessed, suddenly proud of my own seedy past. Anything to stop him from looking at me like I was a trophy.
He smiled wider, at least a few of his teeth missing. "I always did like the strong independent types myself."
"This is Mara," Luke said, his voice ever polite. "My wife." Only I could feel the slight annoyance he was masking. Which made it a little funny, actually.
Frittz took another drink before smiling at Luke. "Like I said, you have great taste. Now then, what can I help you all out with today?"
I certainly didn't mind the change in subject, though I had to agree, Luke did have great taste in women, didn't he?
"Echo Drivers," Han muttered softly. "These two kids think the gang has something that doesn't belong to them."
He laughed. "I don't think they have anything that does belong to them. Did you have something particular in mind?"
"Yes," Luke nodded. "An important item that was stolen from a friend of ours."
Technically two friends if you count both Karrde and Marcus.
"We don't know if they still have it," I added. "But we sure want to find out. It was stolen from our friend on his home world, and then brought to auction here on Tatooine, where it was ironically stolen again."
"Hmm, the gang usually supplies relics and interesting trinkets to the auction houses, they give them a sizable cut and don't bother asking where the items come from. But for the gang to steal one back after handing it over, they must have reconsidered. Must think they can get an even better price for it. Just what are you two looking for?"
Luke hesitated, probing Frittz relative trustworthiness. He was no sterling example of the Jedi moral code, but he seemed harmless enough.
"It's an artifact that belonged to a Jedi."
Frittz eyes got big before he let out a faint whistle. "You know how much something like that could net you on the black market? No wonder they took it back."
"So they might have already sold it?" I asked.
He nodded. "Oh sure, but maybe not. Seems like they might be waiting to get just the right price. I could get you a meeting set up with them if you want? Maybe go shopping through their wares and see if they still got it?"
Chewie grumbled something that seemed to mean he wasn't too keen on the idea. Luke's frown seemed to agree, but I liked the sound of it.
"Like an undercover job?" I whispered, my eyes lighting up. "Go in posing as a buyer and feel the place out? Either we find what we're after or find the records to where it ended up? I like it, let's do it, Frittz."
He grinned. "I knew I liked you, Miss, just as soon as we met."
"Wait, hold on a second," Luke protested. "They've already taken pot shots at us twice, and I'm so recognizable. Could I really get in without them seeing through my disguise?"
"Who said anything about you, hon?" I asked bluntly. "Your face is on every holo and bantha milk carton from here to the outer rim, they probably would recognize you. But I'm a different story. Sure, my face has been out there since I married you, but not nearly as much, and I know how to pull off a good disguise."
"Just what kind of smuggler were you again?" Frittz asked curiously.
I grinned at him. "That was my second job, what I'm talking about is more my first…" But I didn't give him any more details, just left him wondering.
"We'll talk about…" Luke said flatly, before looking at our contact. "Can we reach you later with a decision?"
"Of course, how about tomorrow morning, same place as here?"
Han nodded as he and Chewie stood. "Sounds good, that should be just enough time for the kids to finish arguing about it."
Luke gave him a somewhat resentful look at that comment but said nothing. Han seemed smart enough to keep his nose out of problems he didn't want. He caringly suggested that we spend the night at the inn in town. More space and privacy he'd said, but I knew he didn't want to be in the middle of our discussion. So while he and Chewie made it back to the Falcon, Luke and I found ourselves in a dingy little hole in the wall.
I kicked back on the bed, my hands folded behind my head. Luke for his part was staring out the small open hole that passed for a window on Tatooine.
"How about Han stowing us away like old cargo?" I grumbled. "You'd think we had a history of scratching each other's eyes out."
We didn't, beyond the occasional disagreement, I thought we did pretty well. But then Han didn't get what it was like to share a force bond the way we did. Still, I didn't think this would be an easy conversation all the same.
Luke turned to face me, a faint amusement on his lips. "I guess Han assumes you like to get your way. I understand him being worried if he thought you might not."
"I absolutely do like getting my own way, Luke," I agreed. "But this isn't about me. It's about Marcus, the Jedi, and whatever the force is trying to lead us to. I know you feel it too."
He was silent before nodding. "I do… We need to get this stone back." He looked back up at me. "But isn't there a better way? You going into an enemy compound all alone with Ben? I can't allow you to take such a risk…"
"Who said I'll be alone? I planned on you and Han scoping out the place while I was the distraction. Maybe even hack into a mainframe or two? Artoo tagged along on the Falcon, and this might be why. Let the little droid loose on their computer system while I distract them. There's got to be some data on what happened to our rock. And who knows, maybe they still have it and I can either buy it or steal it back?"
He sighed loudly. "I still don't like it, they've tried to kill you twice already."
"And failed both times," I reminded him. "I'd say that's not bad odds."
He didn't seem all that comforted by that thought. Standing up I walked over to him and touched his arm softly. "Listen Luke, I'd feel a whole lot safer knowing you're out there ready to come to my rescue. If we both go in and it's a trap, then what?"
"But we're stronger together?" he said, using my own line against me.
Still, he had to see my point. Finally, he reluctantly conceded.
"Okay, but can you really disguise yourself well enough?"
I smiled. "That's the easy part, Luke. Let me go grab some supplies and I'll show you just how easy."
He trusted me, but he wasn't ready for the person that walked out of the fresher the next morning.
He blinked his face some mixture of wonder and awkwardness. "Your hair…it's black and…?"
I grinned. "Gray? Don't worry, it'll wash out."
"And your face, it's…"
"Old?" I laughed. "Just a little cosmetic technique to add on about twenty years. Needless to say, most women are trying to do the opposite. But I learned that sometimes people are less threatened by older people. It can come in handy to make yourself seem more vulnerable than you really are."
He kept staring until it felt almost awkward. "Hey, don't frown too much, the hair can go back, but a few decades from now I might actually look like this. You men are all alike," I teased. "Ready to trade us women in for a new model as soon as we get a little rust."
He smiled at me, his thoughts drifting back to my banter with Han. "No, I'd say you still have at least another century left."
I rolled my eyes, our sense of humor lessening the worry we both shared. Or at least, a little bit…
