Luke's Yavin Medal

“But you’re getting better at it, all the same. The Force is both a subject and a teacher. If you listen to it, you will learn a great deal. Now, I have a thought. I have…more than a few things which once belonged to the Jedi. I do not have the curated collection of my friend Dok-Ondar, but there are quality items to be found all the same! I will give you one to hold, as a test, and you can tell me what it says to you.”

“How will you know that I’m right? Or that I’m telling the truth?” he asked.

“I will choose something with which I’m already familiar. I will give you something, but only if I know its history. One moment,” she said. Then she hopped off the desk and disappeared into the hall.

When she was gone, RZ-7 said quietly, “Sir, you do appear to be feeling better, if you don’t mind me saying so. The color’s come back into your face, and your heart rate is returning to a normal range.”

“I don’t feel great, but I do feel better. Sitting down helps.”

Maz returned a minute later, holding something round on a wide ribbon. “Here,” she said. “Take off your gloves.”

Karr removed them and left them in his lap. He held out his hands.

“Do you feel it?” she asked him. “From there?”

She was still standing maybe three meters away. He said, “I don’t know—I can’t tell. There’s so much…background noise.”

“Fair enough. How about now?” She came closer by a few steps.

There it was, yes. He could feel that. It came off the object in faint, pulsating waves that sharpened his fading headache. “I can feel it now.” He reached out farther with his right hand. “What is it?”

She hopped back up onto the desk, where she apparently preferred to sit. “It was entrusted to me for safekeeping, some years ago—by a man who couldn’t pay his bar tab. You’ll know more when you take it. Go on, hold it. Listen to it. Tell me what it says to you.”

He did as she asked, jerking back reflexively when the first touch zapped him. He recovered and reached for it again. Maz Kanata dropped it into his palm, where the object felt thick and warm and buzzing.

“What is it, sir?” asked RZ-7.

Visions were brewing in his brain, but they didn’t flare immediately to life—so he went with what he could see with his own eyes. “It’s a medal? A big round medal with some symbols on it. It belonged to…” The vision smacked him hard upside the head. The room went white, and then it went black, and he fluttered his eyes trying to find the balance. He pictured the glass half full of milk. He imagined it sloshing around, back and forth, light to dark and back again. He thought of the surface, level and smooth.

Stay in the vision but stay in the real world, too. Find the level.

“Go on. Tell me. What do you see?” Maz asked.

He tried to obey. “Two men. One taller, with darker hair. One smaller and younger. This belonged to…it belonged to Skywalker.” That name again! “It was put on his neck…around his neck. A woman put it there. She had dark hair, in a long braid. There was a battle, and he was a hero. It was given to him for bravery, and in thanks for his service.”

Maz interrupted, “Wait. You say it was Skywalker’s? Are you sure?”

Karr nodded and Maz laughed, deep and loud. She slapped the table beside her and slapped her thigh, and probably would’ve slapped Karr if he’d been sitting any closer—so great was her hilarity. “That bastard!” she said merrily. “That tricky bastard!”

“I’m…I’m sorry?” Karr said, not knowing what the right response ought to be. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No! No, you’ve done nothing wrong, and you’ve told me something I should’ve known in the first place! That scheming bastard Solo, always a cheater when cheating is easy. One day, that man will come to a terrible end—you mark my words.”
He still had no idea what was so funny.

RZ-7 declared, “Words marked, ma’am.”

“The medal was supposed to be a reward from Leia Organa to the man who became her husband—Han Solo, may you never be so unfortunate as to cross his crooked path,” she said, but she didn’t really sound angry. She sounded amused and as if she felt a little silly about having ever believed that man about anything, ever.

“Karr,” she said, using his name at last. “What I’m trying to say is that the swindler swindled me. He told me that the medal was his own, but he gave me his friend’s instead. They all fought at the Battle of Yavin and were rewarded together—along with a very handsome Wookiee who would never cheat me in such a fashion, nor would he allow it to occur if he’d been aware of it. We’re very fond of one another, and he would not treat me so badly. Don’t let anyone tell you different.”

“No, ma’am, I wouldn’t.” Especially since he’d only ever seen a couple of Wookiees in his life and couldn’t imagine the day he’d contradict one—or anyone who cared about one.

“That pain in the rear he runs around with, though.” She shook her head. “Well, you have shown me what I needed to see. You passed my little test. Now this one should tell you even more, if you’re correct—and I have no reason to doubt you. I knew what Solo was when I took the medal. I should’ve asked more questions, not that it matters in the scheme of things, I suppose. They were all identical, I believe.

“Here, let us try something for which I now believe you are ready.” With that, she produced the package that Karr had only just delivered to her.


- Force Collector, Chapter 16