Star Wars: New Hope: The Princess, the Scoundrel, and the Farm Boy: Being the Story of Luke Skywalker, Darth Vader, and the Rise of the Rebellion (Novel)

by Alexandra Bracken

  Luke nodded, clearly not getting what was wrong with that picture. Han stared at him, waiting. Apparently he was going to be waiting forever.

  “You realize you’ve put all your faith in a crazy person…right?”

  “Ben is not crazy! I meant what I said—I felt the Force earlier. He hasn’t lied to me. He wouldn’t.”

  Oh, boy. Han patted Luke’s shoulder as he stood. “Stick with me, kid. I’ll do you better than trying to tie you to some mystic energy. I’ll teach you how to survive.”

  A faint alarm echoed over to them from the cockpit. “Looks like we’re coming up on Alderaan. Better go wake your friend up from his beauty sleep.”

  Han took the pilot’s seat again. Chewie ducked into the cockpit a moment later, taking the chair next to Han’s.

  “All right, here we go,” Han said. “Stand by for hyperspace exit.”

  He reached over to a lever on the console in front of him, pulling it back in a slow, smooth motion. The stars racing by in smears of white light suddenly solidified into points.

  And then the Falcon began to shudder, violently tossing back and forth. “What the—?”

  Spread out in front of them was a field of small asteroids, all of which seemed to be racing straight toward the Falcon. Han’s heart slammed against his ribs as he seized the controls and yanked left, spinning the ship away from the hunk of space rocks flying straight for the cockpit. The ship dipped and twirled between the dark rocks as nimble as any dancer, so fast that even he felt a little dizzy. A small piece of asteroid slammed into the ship’s hull and ricocheted off, sending an even bigger asteroid hurtling toward them. Han tugged the controls back. The Falcon shot straight up before looping back down. The ship missed the big asteroid by mere meters.

  It was the hardest workout either he or the ship had gotten in some time. He didn’t breathe easily until they broke through the thick of it and were bouncing through just fragments and shards like bad turbulence.

  Chewie tossed out his theory in a growling snarl.

  Han nodded. “Yeah, it must be some kind of meteor shower—an asteroid collision. It’s not on any of the charts.”

  Luke stumbled into the cockpit, barely catching himself on the door before he fell through it. “What’s going on?”

  Han scratched his head, his face scrunching in thought as he double-checked the charts. “Our position is correct, except…no Alderaan.”

  “What do you mean? Where is it?” Luke demanded, dropping into one of the seats behind them. Han glanced back just as old Ben came in and sat down next to the boy.

  “That’s what I’m trying to tell you, kid. It’s been totally blown away.”

  “What?” Luke gasped. “How?”

  “Destroyed,” Ben said, his quiet voice almost lost under the banging of rocky debris against the ship’s hull. “By the Empire.”

  The old man had lost it. “The entire starfleet couldn’t destroy the whole planet. It’d take a thousand ships with more firepower than I’ve—”

  Han was interrupted by a whining beep-beep-beep from the console. “There’s another ship coming in.”

  “Maybe they’ll know what happened?” Luke offered, leaning forward for a better look.

  “No, it’s an Imperial fighter,” Ben said. “Look at the shape—the flat wings bookending the round cockpit. That’s a TIE fighter.”

  Chewie barked out a note of concern as the Imperial ship screeched over their heads.

  “It followed us!” Luke said. “How is that possible?”

  “No, those are short-range fighters,” Ben said. “It couldn’t have.”

  “There aren’t any bases around here, at least not that I’m aware of,” Han said, glancing back at Ben. “You know something I don’t?”

  The TIE fighter raced toward what looked like a star in the near distance.

  “If they identify us, we’re in trouble,” Luke said. Like Han wasn’t already well aware of that concern.

  “Not if I can help it,” Han said. “Chewie, jam its transmissions.”

  “It’d be as well to let it go,” Ben said. “It’s too far out of range.”

  “Well, he won’t be around long enough to tell anyone about us,” Han said, pushing the Millennium Falcon until she began to rattle in protest. “Let’s get him in range to fire on.”

  Luke squinted, practically on top of Han now as he leaned toward the viewport window. “I thought it was a star, but it…looks almost like a moon?”

  But that couldn’t be right, either….Han swiveled in his seat, glancing at his navigation charts again. Alderaan had no moon, and—

  It was just for a moment, but Han was sure his heart up and froze on him. Because they were close enough now, closer than Han should have ever allowed them to get. He could see the surface of the silvery moon wasn’t pockmarked with craters or mountains or even dried sea beds. It was metal. All of it, metal. The skin of the thing was textured by towers, paneling, and the deep ravines among them.

  Han had flown to every corner of the galaxy, slipped through its grimy cracks, seen stars explode, and brushed up against death, close enough to feel its icy breath. But for the first time in a long, long while, he was too stunned to speak.

  It was the old man who finally put words to Han’s thoughts.

  “That’s no moon,” Ben said. “It’s a space station.”

  “I HAVE A very bad feeling about this,” Luke said slowly. He was still blinking, as if he could erase the sight.

  “Yeah, I think you’re right,” Han said. He turned to Chewie. “Lock in the auxiliary power—”

  The Millennium Falcon gave a sharp jerk, as if it had slammed into an invisible wall. Han gave the controls a tug, reaching up to try to adjust the power, but they were already flying at full speed. A prickle of panic ran down his spine before he could stamp it out.

  “Why are we still moving toward it?” Luke asked.

  “We’re caught in a tractor beam,” Han said, struggling to control his outrage. “There’s nothing I can do. It’s pulling us in.”

  Right into the open hangar of the enormous battle station. They were taking his ship. The Imperials were actually taking the Falcon, and this time he had a feeling they weren’t going to let him and Chewie off with a slap on the wrist. He swiveled in his seat, resentment steaming through him as he looked from a dumbstruck Luke to an unruffled Ben. They should never have taken this job.

  Forget the money. The Falcon was all Han had to his name. And unless he could think on his feet, he wouldn’t even have that.

  “They’re not going to get me without a fight,” he told the others, facing forward again. A hand settled lightly on his shoulder.

  “You can’t win,” Ben said. “But there are alternatives to fighting. Tell me, are there smuggling compartments on this ship?”

  Han raised an eyebrow. “Know many successful smugglers without them?”

  Chewie barked out a nervous question as the ship was tugged toward the gaping mouth of the open hangar.

  “No, I know what he’s getting at,” Han said, putting a steadying hand on his copilot’s arm. As much as he hated to admit it, Tatooine’s twin suns hadn’t completely dried out the old man’s brain. “Go open the compartments and get everyone inside. I’ll take care of things up here.”

  “You might want to jettison escape pods,” Ben said as Chewie stood and started to usher them out of the cockpit.

  “Do you know how expensive those are to replace?” Han asked, outraged.

  “More or less valuable than your life?” was the calm response.

  Han was still muttering about old men and their stupid questions when he turned back to the console and went to work writing up a quick notation in the captain’s log. Abandoned ship upon entering the Alderaan system due to safety concerns. With a resigned sigh, he launched the empty escape pods. He listened to the pop and hiss as their restraints released and sent them spiraling into space.

  His escape pods. From his ship. The one h
e’d won in a perfect stroke of luck during a game of cards. The one he’d spent years modifying and repairing. The one that had never let him down, not when it counted. Han wasted a few moments watching the battle station edge closer and closer. He powered down the ship and turned sharply on his heel, his boots clicking softly as he made his way back toward the others.

  His ship. The Millennium Falcon already had quite a record to her name in just smuggling charges. Han had never claimed to be the brightest star twinkling in the sky, but he could put two and two together. Being tied to the Empire’s hunt for those droids would sink both him and his ship. If—no, when, they got out of this, he would need to repaint her, alter her appearance, give her a new name. It was that or…buy a new ship. But that thought was like a laser blast to the chest.

  He couldn’t give up on her. So many people had given up on Han—he couldn’t do that to his ship.

  The smuggling compartments were hidden beneath the floor of one of the ship’s narrow hallways. The latch to release them was virtually invisible if you didn’t know where to look. Chewie had left one of the floor plates up for him.

  “How close do you think we are?” he heard Luke ask.

  “Too close.” Han crouched down, peering into the cramped space before sliding inside. The compartment was so shallow he had to crouch down to fit. Chewie must have been folded in half or curled on his side. When Han turned, he got a mouthful of Wookiee hair.

  Well, well, well. Smuggling himself on his own ship. This was definitely a first. One of them had the thought to power off the droids, at least, though the protocol droid’s foot was wedged into his back.

  “Ouch, that was my knee!” Luke cried

  Chewie rumbled out a low apology.

  “Quiet now,” Ben said. “We should be passing into the docking bay momentarily.”

  Luke let out a small gasp of surprise as the ship dropped sharply once and then again. The second drop rattled them around like dice in a cup. A deafening screech of metal against metal made Han wince. The ship had all but belly flopped onto the hangar floor. He hadn’t been able to deploy the landing gear without giving them away.

  Finally, someone must have gotten control of the cockpit remotely, because the ship rose on its landing gear. The ship’s boarding ramp creaked as it was lowered. To distract himself, Han started mentally adding up the astronomical cost of repairs. But once the troops flooded in, their boots pounding the floor and their voices buzzing out commands, they were impossible to ignore.

  “Search this ship! Every centimeter of it!”

  “The escape pods have been deployed, sir!”

  “The captain’s log indicates they abandoned ship.”

  The sickening thought of Imperial filth tracking their dirt into his ship faded as realization set in. The stormtroopers must have passed right over them a dozen times, and never once did they seem to stop or slow. They were going to get away with it.

  All that was left to do was wait.

  HAN KEPT HIS back flat against the wall next to the ship’s open hatch, risking another glance down the ramp. The cool, fresh oxygen made him feel alert. The compartment had grown so warm Han had felt smothered by the damp air.

  He glanced over to where Chewie stood on the other side of the door, giving him a small signal. His copilot pulled back, ducking farther into the ship. Han was about to follow when his attention was drawn back to the two stormtroopers stationed at the bottom of the boarding ramp.

  “The ship’s all yours,” one of the stormtroopers called. A moment later, a small group of men from the hangar crew appeared. They pushed a large, dark-blue rectangular cart forward. Han recognized it immediately—a scanner. So those white helmets weren’t empty after all. They would scan every centimeter of the ship looking for hidden compartments.

  “If the scanners pick up anything, report it immediately,” the stormtrooper said.

  Han fell back, moving quickly to where Chewie was waiting around the nearest corner. Luke and Ben hovered a short distance behind him. The kid was the very picture of nerves. Han gave him a reassuring look before setting his blaster to stun.

  Han tracked the sound of the scanner crew as they entered the Falcon and set to turning on the machine. The three men spoke quietly to each other as they started their work, rolling the scanner forward—right into the waiting Wookiee. The crew had one second to look terrified before Chewie knocked two out with his fists and Han stunned the third into a deep sleep.

  Han cupped his hands around his mouth and called, “Hey, down there! Could you give us a hand with this?”

  He had to give them a little credit—both stormtroopers were quick reaching for their guns, but very few in the galaxy were faster on the draw than Han. The two stormtroopers fell just as hard as the scanner crew did.

  “Nice shooting,” Luke said, clapping Han on the shoulder.

  “Thanks, kid. Now, which one do you want?” Han gestured to the two stormtroopers.

  “Quickly, quickly,” Ben said, keeping an eye on the boarding ramp as Luke and Han stripped the stormtroopers of their uniforms.

  “Oh my!” The protocol droid, C-3PO, as Luke called him, sounded startled at being rebooted. The R2 unit rolled around them, investigating what they were doing.

  “Phew,” Han said, holding out the black fabric jumpsuit. “You think these guys ever heard of bathing? Mine smells like the guy slept in it.”

  Luke took a sniff of his, then groaned. “I think they must have served something spicy for lunch today.”

  Han threw the stiff white armor on, adjusting the various straps. The helmet smelled like bad breath. “Lead on, old man. This is your plan.”

  Ben’s dark brown robe swept out behind him as he made his way down the ramp.

  Han glanced over his shoulder, telling Luke, “We need to keep the droids behind us—”

  Something clattered in the distance, and a faint whomp-whomp-whomp alarm sounded. Han ran down the steps just in time to see the remaining stormtroopers and hangar crew rushing through the exit. Ben stood in the shadows of the Falcon, his hood up.

  “What did you do?” Han asked.

  “Tricks and nonsense,” Ben said with a small smile. “A security alarm required their attention.”

  Han was still staring at Ben when Luke and Chewie followed the old man out.

  “Let’s go,” Luke said, nodding toward the glass observation window two stories above them. The small command center would give them access to the battle station’s technical details. If Ben was right, they might be able to disable the tractor beam from there.

  They had no problems entering the elevator unseen, riding it up to the third level in silence. The door slid open, and Han stepped out first, narrowly avoiding the troop of officers marching by.

  Ben said quietly, “I believe it’s that door over there.”

  “All right, let’s get this over with.” Han led the way, getting into position just outside the door, Luke and Chewie to his right. Before he could buzz to be let in, the door snapped open. The Imperial officer standing there jumped back in alarm, just as Chewie let out a magnificent roar.

  Han fired on the other officer manning the switchboards and controls, taking him out as the rest of their group flooded into the room behind him.

  “You know,” Luke said as he ripped off his helmet, “between his howling and your blasting everything in sight, it’s a wonder the whole station doesn’t know we’re here!”

  “Bring them on!” Han shot back, taking off his own helmet. “I prefer a straight fight to all of this sneaking around.”

  Luke was still shaking his head when he turned to Ben. “Are you all right? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  The old man had turned back toward the door they’d come through, his head cocked slightly to the side as if he were listening to something the rest of them couldn’t hear. “I sensed a presence I’ve not felt in some time….”

  “We found the computer outlet, sir,” Threepio said. “He
says he’s found the main computer to power the tractor beam that’s holding the ship. He’ll try to make the precise location appear on the monitor.”

  Han hadn’t even seen the little R2 unit stick its little probe arm into one of the sockets of the console. While he and Luke went to watch the monitor, Han, actually using his head, turned and secured the locks on the doors.

  “The tractor beam is coupled to the main reactor in seven locations,” Threepio explained, ignoring the whistles from the R2 unit. “A power loss at one of these terminals will allow the ship to leave.”

  Ben studied the map on the screen. “I don’t think you boys can help with this. I must go alone.”

  Great. Fantastic. Han held up his hands. “Whatever you say. You aren’t paying me nearly enough for this.”

  Luke ignored Han, grabbing Ben’s arm. There was a look of panic on the kid’s face. “I want to go with you.”

  The old man, though, was as calm as ever. “Be patient, Luke. Stay and watch over the droids. They must be delivered safely, or other star systems will suffer the same fate as Alderaan. Your destiny lies along a different path than mine.”

  Han rolled his eyes so hard at Ben’s dramatic tone they should have gone flying out of his head.

  “The Force will be with you, always,” Ben said. He pulled his hood up over his head, then felt for the lightsaber at his side. When the door opened, he ducked out into the long gray hall. Luke stood there a moment, watching him go, before shutting the door.

  Han leaned over the console, checking on the Falcon below. The R2 droid started whistling like crazy, its head spinning back toward Luke.

  “What is it?” Luke asked.

  “Wait—slow down, Artoo! Sir, I’m afraid I’m not entirely sure. He says, ‘I found her,’ and keeps repeating, ‘She’s here, she’s here.’”