PHOENIX ━ dameron

034 | echo

Han looked between them, anxious to get the conversation back on track. "Maz, she needs help getting this droid back to Leia."

"Hmm," Maz considered, finally pulling her gaze away from Lyra. She squinted at Han. "No. You've been running away from this fight for too long," she decided. "Han, nyakee nago wadda. Go home!"

The clean-ship excuse was a ruse. A way to keep himself from ever setting foot on D'Qar again. If Lyra weren't so concerned about Maz's blatant refusal to help, she would have felt bad for the dejected expression on Han's face.

"Leia doesn't wanna see me," Han told Maz with a small shake of his head.

That was so far from the truth, Lyra almost shot out of her seat to say otherwise. Given the state of things, she would bet all her credits Leia would be more than glad to see her husband again. Han was convinced, and Maz wasn't budging.

Finn leaned forward, growing tired of their back and forth. "Please, we came here for your help."

But Maz didn't answer. She was in the middle of playing a careful game with the four of them to see who would snap first, and she was a hair's breadth from winning.

"What fight?" Rey asked, searching for a better context. The piece of fruit was held in her hand so tightly, it was a miracle it was still in one piece.

"The only fight: against the dark side. Through the ages, I've seen evil take many forms. The Sith. The Empire. Today, it is the First Order. Their shadow is spreading across the galaxy. We must face them, fight them. All of us."

Finn leaned forward with his shoulders square. "There is no fight against the First Order. Not one we can win."

Han gave a low-pitched whistle. "Shoulda got something stronger than water for this conversation."

Maz was talking about the fight like it was so clear, good and bad and no gray area in between. After a lifetime of being caught in an eb and flow, Lyra knew the delicate complexities deeper than the crystal-cut surface Maz was speaking of. There were planets that wouldn't fight, some that pretended there was no war, others that funded the First Order, the Resistance, sometimes both sides if it would get them more revenue in their shipyards. Maybe in the Force there was more clarity, but the real galaxy was too muddled to be more than knotted rope and hard-won victory. The stars didn't care about sides.

Finn was undeterred. "Look around. There's no chance we haven't been recognized already. I bet you the First Order is on their way right--"

The clicking of gears interrupted him. Maz leaned toward Finn and adjusted her goggles, making her eyes grow even bigger.

Aghast, Finn asked, "What's this? What are you doing?"

Then, to everyone's surprise, Maz crawled up onto the table. The plates and glasses clinked together as her weight shifted over the surface. A cup fell off the edge, and Lyra caught it just before it hit Bee on the head. Rey almost fell out of her seat trying to scoot back so fast. 

Maz examined Finn with the utmost scrutiny.  "Solo?" Finn tried again, "What's she doing?"

"I don't know," Han replied lazily. "But it ain't good."

"If you live long enough you see the same eyes in different people," Maz hummed. "I'm looking at the eyes of a man who wants to run."

It struck a chord with Finn. He leveled his gaze, no longer afraid. "You don't know a thing about me, where I'm from, what I've seen. You don't know the First Order like I do. They'll slaughter us," he glanced around the table. "We all need to run."