by George Lucas
Princess Leia’s voice came over the address system: “Attention, speeder pilots … on the withdrawal signal assemble at South Slope. Your fighters are being prepared for takeoff. Code One Five will be transmitted when evacuation is complete.”
Threepio and Artoo stood amid the rapidly moving personnel as the pilots readied for departure. The golden droid tilted slightly as he turned his sensors on the little R2 robot. The shadows playing over Threepio’s face gave the illusion that his faceplate had lengthened into a frown. “Why is it,” he asked, “when things seem to get settled, everything falls apart?” Leaning forward, he gently patted the other droid’s hull. “Take good care of Master Luke. And take good care of yourself.”
Artoo whistled and tooted a good-bye, then turned to roll down the ice corridor. Waving stiffly, Threepio watched as his stout and faithful friend moved away.
To an observer, it may have seemed that Threepio grew misty-eyed, but then it wasn’t the first time he had gotten a drop of oil clogged before his optical sensors.
Finally turning, the human-shaped robot moved off in the opposite direction.
V
NO ONE ON HOTH HEARD THE SOUND. At first, it was simply too distant to carry above the whining winds. Besides, the Rebel troopers, fighting the cold as they prepared for battle, were too busy to really listen.
In the snow trenches, Rebel officers screamed out their orders to make themselves heard above the gale-force winds. Troopers hurried to carry out their commands, running through the snow with heavy bazookalike weapons on their shoulders, and lodging those death rays along the icy rims of the trenches.
The Rebel power generators near the gun towers began popping, buzzing, and crackling with deafening bursts of electrical power—enough to supply the vast underground complex. But above all this activity and noise a strange sound could be heard, an ominous thumping that was coming nearer and was beginning to shake the frozen ground. When it was close enough to attract the attention of an officer, he strained to see through the storm, looking for the source of the heavy, rhythmic pounding. Other men looked up from their work and saw what looked like a number of moving specks. Through the blizzard, the small dots seemed to be advancing at a slow yet steady pace, churning up clouds of snow as they moved toward the Rebel base.
The officer raised his electrobinoculars and focused on the approaching objects. There must have been a dozen of them resolutely advancing through the snow, looking like creatures out of some uncharted past. But they were machines, each of them stalking like enormous ungulates on four jointed legs.
Walkers!
With a shock of recognition, the officer identified the Empire’s All Terrain Armored Transports. Each machine was formidably armed with cannons placed on its fore-side like the horns of some prehistoric beast. Moving like mechanized pachyderms, the walkers emitted deadly fire from their turnstile guns and cannons.
The officer grabbed his comlink. “Rogue Leader … Incoming! Point Zero Three.”
“Echo Station Five-Seven, we’re on our way.”
Even as Luke Skywalker replied, an explosion sprayed ice and snow around the officer and his terror-struck men. The walkers already had them within range. The troopers knew their job was to divert attention while the transport ships were launched, but none of the Rebel soldiers was prepared to die under the feet or weapons of these horrible machines.
Brilliant billows of orange and yellow flames exploded from the walker guns. Nervously the Rebel troopers aimed their weapons at the walkers, each soldier feeling icy, unseen fingers pierce his body.
Of the twelve snowspeeders, four took the lead, soaring at full throttle as they moved toward the enemy. One All Terrain Armored Transport machine fired, barely missing the banking craft. A burst of gunfire blew another speeder into a ball of flaming oblivion that lit up the sky.
Luke saw the explosion of his squadron’s first casualty as he looked from his cockpit window. Angrily, Luke fired his ship’s guns at a walker, only to receive a hail of Imperial fire power that shook his speeder in a barrage of flak.
Regaining control of his ship, Luke was joined by another snowspeeder, Rogue Three. They swarmed like insects around the relentlessly stomping walkers, as other speeders continued to exchange fire with the Imperial assault machines. Rogue Leader and Rogue Three flitted alongside the lead walker, then moved away from each other, both banking to the right.
Luke saw the horizon tilt as he maneuvered his speeder between the walker’s jointed legs and soared out from under the monster machine. Bringing his speeder back to horizontal flight, the young commander contacted his companion ship. “Rogue Leader to Rogue Three.”
“Copy, Rogue Leader,” acknowledged Wedge, the pilot of Rogue Three.
“Wedge,” Luke called into his comlink, “split your squad into pairs.” Luke’s snowspeeder then banked and turned, while Wedge’s ship moved off in the opposite direction with another Rebel craft.
The walkers, firing all cannons, continued their march across the snow. Inside one of the assault machines two Imperial pilots had spotted the Rebel guns, conspicuous against the white field. The pilots began to maneuver the walker toward the guns when they noticed a lone snowspeeder making a reckless charge directly toward their main viewport, guns blazing. A huge explosion flashed outside the impenetrable window and dissipated as the snowspeeder, roaring through the smoke, disappeared overhead.
As Luke soared up and away from the walker, he looked back. That armor is too strong for blasters, he thought. There must be some other way of attacking these horrors; something other than fire power. For a moment Luke thought of some of the simple tactics a farm boy might employ against a wild beast. Then, turning his snowspeeder for yet another run against the walkers, he made a decision.
“Rogue group,” he called into his comlink, “use your harpoons and tow cables. Go for the legs. It’s our only hope of stopping them. Hobbie, are you still with me?”
The reassuring voice immediately responded. “Yes, sir.”
“Well, stick close now.”
As he leveled his ship, Luke was grimly determined to glide in tight formation with Hobbie. Together they veered, dropping nearer Hoth’s surface.
In Luke’s cockpit, his gunner, Dack, was jostled by the abrupt movement of the craft. Trying to keep his grip on the Rebel harpoon gun in his hand, he shouted, “Whoea! Luke, I can’t seem to find my restraints.”
Explosions rocked Luke’s ship, tossing it about violently in the enveloping flak. Through the window he could see another walker that appeared to be unaffected by the full fire power of the Rebel attack speeders. This lumbering machine now became Luke’s target as he flew, moving in a descending arc. The walker was firing directly at him, creating a wall of laser bolts and flak.
“Just hang on, Dack,” he yelled over the explosions, “and get ready to fire that tow cable!”
Another great blast shook Luke’s snowspeeder. He fought to regain control as the ship wobbled in its flight. Luke began to sweat profusely, despite the cold, as he desperately attempted to right his plunging ship. But the horizon still spun in front of him.
“Stand by, Dack. We’re almost there. Are you okay?”
Dack didn’t answer. Luke managed to turn and saw that Hobbie’s speeder was maintaining its course next to him as they evaded the explosions bursting around them. He craned his head around and saw Dack, blood streaming from his forehead, slumped against the controls.
“Dack!”
On the ground, the gun towers near the Rebel power generators blasted away at the walking Imperial machines, but with no apparent effect. Imperial weapons bombarded the area all around them, blasting the snow skyward, almost blinding their human targets with the continuous onslaught. The officer who had first seen the incredible machines and fought alongside his men, was one of the first to be cut down by a walker’s body-ripping rays. Troops rushed to his aid, but couldn’t save him; too much of his blood had already spilled, making a scarlet stain
against the snow.
More Rebel fire power blasted from one of the dishlike guns that had been erected near the power generators. Despite these tremendous explosions, the walkers continued to march. Another speeder made a heroic dive between a pair of the walkers, only to be caught by fire from one of the machines that exploded it into a great ball of rippling flames.
The surface explosions made the walls of the ice hangar tremble, causing deep cracks to spread.
Han Solo and Chewbacca were working frantically to complete their welding job. As they worked, it became obvious that the widening cracks would soon bring the entire ice ceiling smashing down upon them.
“First chance we get,” Han said, “we’re giving this crate a complete overhaul.” But he knew that first he would have to get the Millennium Falcon out of this white hell.
Even as he and the Wookiee labored on the ship, enormous pieces of ice, broken loose by the explosions, came tumbling down throughout the underground base. Princess Leia moved quickly, trying to avoid the falling frozen chunks, as she sought shelter in the Rebel command center.
“I’m not sure we can protect two transports at a time,” General Rieekan told her as she entered the chamber.
“It’s risky,” she answered, “but our holding action is faltering.” Leia realized that the transport launchings were taking too much time and that the procedure had to be hastened.
Rieekan issued a command through his comlink. “Launch patrol, proceed with accelerated departures …”
As the general gave his order, Leia looked toward an aide and said, “Begin clearing the remaining ground staff.” But she knew that their escape depended completely on Rebel success in the on-going battle above.
* * *
Inside the cold and cramped cockpit of the lead Imperial walker, General Veers moved between his snow-suited pilots. “What is the distance to the power generators?”
Without looking away from the control panel, one of the pilots replied, “Six-four-one.”
Satisfied, General Veers reached for an electrotelescope and peered through the viewfinder to focus on the bullet-shaped power generators and the Rebel soldiers fighting to save them. Suddenly the walker began to rock violently under a barrage of Rebel gunfire. As he was propelled backward, Veers saw his pilots scrambling over the controls to keep the machine from toppling over.
The Rogue Three snowspeeder had just attacked the lead walker. Its pilot, Wedge, hooted with a loud Rebel shout of victory as he saw the damage his guns had caused.
Other snowspeeders passed Wedge, racing in the opposite direction. He steered his craft on a direct course toward another walking death machine. As he approached the monster, Wedge shouted to his gunner, “Activate harpoon!”
The gunner pressed the firing switch as his pilot daringly maneuvered their craft through the walker’s legs. Immediately the harpoon whooshed from the rear of the speeder, a long length of cable unwinding behind it.
“Cable out!” the gunner yelled. “Let her go!”
Wedge saw the harpoon plunge into one of the metal legs, the cable still connected to his snowspeeder. He checked his controls, then brought the speeder around in front of the Imperial machine. Making an abrupt turn, Wedge guided his ship around one of the hind legs, the cable banding around it like a metallic lariat.
So far, thought Wedge, Luke’s plan was working. Now all he had to do was fly his speeder around to the tail end of the walker. Wedge caught a glimpse of Rogue Leader as he carried out the maneuver.
“Cable out!” shouted the speeder’s gunner again as Wedge flew their craft alongside the cable-entangled walker, close to the metal hull. Wedge’s gunner depressed another switch and released the cable from the rear of the snowspeeder.
The speeder zoomed away and Wedge laughed as he looked down at the results of their efforts. The walker was awkwardly struggling to continue on its way, but the Rebel cable had completely entangled its legs. Finally it leaned to one side and crashed against the ground, its impact stirring up a cloud of ice and snow.
“Rogue Leader … One down, Luke,” Wedge announced to the pilot of his companion speeder.
“I see it, Wedge,” Commander Skywalker answered. “Good work.”
In the trenches, Rebel troops cheered in triumph when they saw the assault machine topple. An officer leaped from his snow trench and signaled his men. Bolting out of the trench, he led his troopers in a boisterous charge against the fallen walker, reaching the great metallic hulk before a single Imperial soldier could pull himself free.
The Rebels were about to enter the walker when it suddenly exploded from within, hurtling great jagged chunks of torn metal at them, the impact of the blast flinging the stunned troops back against the snow.
Luke and Zev could see the destruction of the walker as they flew overhead, banking from right to left to avoid the flak bursting around them. When they finally leveled off, their craft were shaken by explosions from the walkers’ cannons.
“Steady, Rogue Two,” Luke said, looking over at the snowspeeder flying parallel to his own ship. “Set harpoon. I’ll cover for you.”
But there was another explosion, this one damaging the front section of Zev’s ship. The pilot could barely see through the engulfing cloud of smoke that fogged his windshield. He fought to keep his ship on a horizontal path, but more blasts by the enemy made it rock violently.
His view had become so obscured that it wasn’t until Zev was directly in the line of fire that he saw the massive image of another Imperial walker. Rogue Two’s pilot felt an instant of pain; then his snub-nosed craft, spewing smoke and hurtling on a collision course with the walker, suddenly erupted in flames amid a burst of cannon fire. Very little of Zev or his ship remained to hit the ground.
Luke saw the disintegration and was sickened by the loss of yet another friend. But he couldn’t let himself dwell on his grief, especially now when so many other lives depended on his steady leadership.
He looked around desperately, then spoke into his comlink. “Wedge … Wedge … Rogue Three. Set your harpoon and follow me on the next pass.”
As he spoke, Luke was hit hard by a terrific explosion that ripped through his speeder. He struggled with the controls in a futile attempt to keep the small craft under control. A chill of fear swept over him when he noticed the dense twisting funnel of black smoke pouring from his ship’s aft section. He realized then that there was no way his damaged speeder could remain aloft. And, to make matters even worse, a walker loomed directly in his path.
Luke struggled with the controls as his ship plunged toward the ground, leaving a trail of smoke and flames behind. By then the heat in the cockpit was nearly unbearable. Flames were beginning to leap about inside the speeder and were coming uncomfortably close to Luke. He finally brought his ship down to skid and crash into the snow just a few meters away from one of the walking Imperial machines.
After impact, Luke struggled to pull himself from the cockpit and looked with horror at the looming figure of the approaching walker.
Gathering all his strength, Luke quickly squeezed himself from under the twisted metal of the control board and moved up against the top of his cockpit. Somehow he managed to open the hatch halfway and climbed out of the ship. With each elephantine step of the oncoming walker, the speeder shook violently. Luke had not realized just how enormous these four-legged horrors were until, unprotected by the shelter of his craft, he saw one up close.
Then he remembered Dack and returned to try and pull his friend’s lifeless form from the wrecked speeder. But Luke had to give up. The body was too tightly wedged in the cockpit, and the walker was now almost upon him. Braving the flames, Luke reached into his speeder and grabbed the harpoon gun.
He gazed at the advancing mechanical behemoth and suddenly had an idea. He reached back inside the cockpit of the speeder and groped for a land mine attached to the ship’s interior. With a great effort he stretched his fingers and firmly grasped the mine.
Luke
leaped away from his vehicle just as the towering machine lifted a massive foot and planted it firmly on the snowspeeder, crushing it flat.
Luke crouched underneath the walker, moving with it to avoid its slow steps. Raising his head, he felt the cold wind slap against his face as he studied the monster’s vast underbelly.
As he ran along under the machine, Luke aimed his harpoon gun and fired. A powerful magnet attached to a long thin cable was ejected from the gun and firmly attached itself to the machine’s underbelly.
Still running, Luke yanked on the cable, testing to make sure its strength was sufficient to sustain his weight. Then he attached the cable drum to the buckle of his utility belt, allowing its mechanism to pull him up off the ground. Now, dangling from the monster’s underbelly, Luke could see the remaining walkers and two Rebel snowspeeders continuing the battle as they soared through fiery explosions.
He climbed up to the machine’s hull where he had observed a small hatch. Quickly cutting it open with his laser sword, Luke pulled open the hatch, threw in the land mine, and made a rapid descent along the cable. As he reached the end, Luke dropped hard onto the snow and became unconscious; his inert body was nearly crushed by one of the walker’s hind feet.
As the walker passed over and away from him, a muffled explosion tore at its insides. Suddenly the tremendous bulk of the mechanical beast exploded at the seams, machinery and pieces of hull flying in every direction. The Imperial assault machine crumbled into a smoking, motionless heap coming to rest upon what remained of its four stiltlike legs.
VI
THE REBEL COMMAND CENTER, ITS walls and ceiling still shaking and cracking under the force of the battle on the surface, was attempting to operate amid the destruction. Pipes, torn apart by the blasting, belched sprays of scalding steam. The white floors were littered with broken pieces of machinery and chunks of ice were scattered everywhere. Except for the distant rumblings of laser fire, the command center was forebodingly quiet.
