The gray, hulking Golan III defense platform seemed to cast a shadow across space as the Millennium Falcon sailed slowly past.

“You sure these landing codes will get us through?” Han asked again, casting a glance at the turbolasers protruding from the orbiting defense station. “Because if they don’t, this mission of yours is over before it starts. Along with our lives.”

“They’ll work,” Leia said. “General Dodonna assured me.”

Luke admired her certainty. Her faith in the Rebel Alliance never flagged. It was as rock solid as her loyalty and her determination. He wondered if she’d ever experienced a true moment of doubt.

As they neared the atmosphere, the Imperial official manning the spaceport called in with a request for their authorization. Leia read off the landing code she’d been given.

There was a pause.

“One moment, please,” the Imperial said tonelessly.

Luke and Han exchanged a nervous glance. “Now’s when they start shooting,” Han predicted.

“Permission to land granted,” the official informed them.

Han broke into a wide grin. “See? What’d I tell you — piece of cake.”

Luke gaped wide-eyed at the towering marble columns looming over the crowded streets of Pilaan, one of Muunilinst’s largest cities. Rising hundreds of stories above his head, they disappeared into a swirling mist of gray clouds.

“They don’t call it Moneyland for nothing,” Han said, his eyes drinking in the precious gems encrusted in several of the buildings’ edifices.

“That’s Moneylend,” Leia corrected him. “Nearly every wealthy being in the galaxy owes some portion of his fortune to the Muuns. It’s the only reason the Empire tolerates them.”

It was well-known that the Emperor considered nonhuman beings to be second-class citizens, unworthy of the privileges of Galactic power. But he made an exception for the Muuns. Although the Muun-controlled InterGalactic Banking Clan had long since been dissolved, Muunilinst retained its power as the financial center of the universe, and the Muuns remained in control.

With a heavy Imperial presence to ensure they didn’t misbehave. Luke fixed his eyes on the sidewalk as they passed by a line of stormtroopers standing guard over one of the elaborate marble temples.

“Just act like you belong, kid,” Han advised him. “No one will look twice.”

Luke had worried they would make a strange group: four humans, two droids, and a Wookiee. But the crowded streets were filled with beings of all kinds, and no one seemed curious about any of the others. The Muuns themselves were especially unconcerned. Tall and slender, with ashy gray skin, they stood stiffly erect, their faces expressionless. It was as if they were made of marble as well.

Luke could overhear them murmuring to each other as they passed, a confusing language of short, repetitive sounds. It sounded like a world of R2 droids.

He knew he was drawing attention to himself, gaping at everything they passed, but he couldn’t help it. He’d been on so few planets in his life, and all of them had housed more animals than people. Yavin 4 was nearly uninhabited, and despite its small cities, Tatooine’s empty stretches of sand often seemed to stretch on forever.

This city, its streets pulsing with noise and color, its millions of inhabitants shuffling up and down the pavements, landspeeders jamming the streets, airspeeders streaking overhead — it was unlike anything he’d ever seen.

After all, not long ago, he’d been an isolated farm boy in the middle of nowhere, staring up at the stars and wondering if he would ever reach them. Now he was on the other side of the galaxy, on a secret mission in the heart of Imperial space.

Life had become infinitely more dangerous, but at the same time, infinitely more interesting. He couldn’t imagine going back.

Except back then, Uncle Lars and Aunt Beru were still alive, he thought. Shouldn’t I want to go back to that old life with them? Even if it’s not possible, shouldn’t I wish that it were?

Before he could let himself answer the question, they’d arrived at the rendezvous point.

“Mak Luunim lives on the twenty-third floor,” Leia said, leading them to a turbolift just inside the grand white building. Even Han paused to appreciate the golden fountain glimmering at the center of the marble-encrusted lobby. But Leia was completely unfazed by the luxury.

Tobin Elad followed close behind her, seeming just as unconcerned by the surroundings.

If possible, the twenty-third floor was even more opulent than the lobby they’d left behind. The turbolift opened into a small entry area, filled with marble statues, all of the same Muun.

“My master.” A sallow-faced Muun appeared behind them, seemingly from nowhere. He was dressed in a simple robe of gray and brown, his gaze fixed on the sculptures. “The great Mak Luunim. He commissioned work from Muunilinst’s finest artisans, and naturally, they were all inspired to turn their talents to his noble form.”

“Naturally,” Han muttered. “I’m sure their commission had nothing to do with it.”

Leia shot him a look, its meaning clear: Behave.

“We have an appointment with your master,” Leia told him. “He should be expecting us.”

The Muun hung his head and passed his fingers along the wall. A hidden entryway opened in the marble. “You are to come inside.”

They stepped into a wide parlor, squinting in the reflected glare. Dancing points of light shimmered from crystalline chandeliers, bouncing off golden walls and floor. Mak Luunim’s apartment had nothing of the elegant beauty of the streets of Pilaan. Golden statuettes and framed, gilded paintings crowded nearly every inch of surface space. Even the furniture contained more gold than fabric.

Artistic representations of Mak Luunim’s face gazed back at them from every wall.

“Should we wait here for your master?” Leia asked.

Luke hoped the Muun would arrive soon. He was beginning to feel deeply uncomfortable. What kind of being would choose to live like this?

“I have no master,” the Muun said mournfully.

“But you said Luunim was your master,” Luke pointed out, confused. Something felt off, and he was beginning to realize it wasn’t just the furniture.

“Indeed,” the Muun said. “Was my master. Is no more. The noble Mak Luunim has left us.”

“Left us to go to the store?” Han asked hopefully. “Because we can wait.”

“Left our mortal realm.” The Muun’s long face seemed to grow even longer as his mouth stretched in a sigh of sorrow.

Luke’s hand crept toward his lightsaber.

Han frowned. “Princess, maybe we should —”

“How did he die?” Leia asked. “And when?”

“We’ll ask the questions here,” a voice said from behind them. Luke whirled around. The door they’d entered through was gone, turned back into solid marble. And standing in front of it, blasters drawn, was a line of six Imperial stormtroopers.