Trilogy

by George Lucas

  There were still Rebel personnel on duty, including Princess Leia, who watched the images on the few still-functioning console screens. She wanted to be certain that the last of the transport ships had slipped past the Imperial armada and were approaching their rendezvous point in space.

  Han Solo rushed into the command center, dodging great sections of the ice ceiling that came plunging down at him. One great chunk was followed by an avalanche of ice that poured onto the floor near the entrance to the chamber. Undaunted, Han hurried to the control board where Leia stood beside See-Threepio.

  “I heard the command center was hit.” Han appeared concerned. “Are you all right?”

  The princess nodded. She was surprised to see him there where the danger was severest.

  “Come on,” he urged before she could reply. “You’ve got to get to your ship.”

  Leia looked exhausted. She had been standing at the console viewscreens for hours and had participated in dispatching Rebel personnel to their posts. Taking her hand, Han led her from the chamber, with the protocol droid clacking after them.

  As they left, Leia gave one final order to the controller. “Give the evacuation code signal … and get to the transport.”

  Then, as Leia, Han, and Threepio made their hasty exit from the command center, a voice blared from the public address speakers, echoing in the nearby deserted ice corridors. “Disengage, disengage! Begin retreat action!”

  “Come on,” Han urged, grimacing. “If you don’t get there fast, your ship won’t be able to take off.”

  The walls quaked even more violently than before. Ice chunks continued to fall throughout the underground base as the three hurried toward the transport ships. They had nearly reached the hangar where Leia’s transport ship was waiting, ready for departure. But as they neared the corner they found the entrance to the hangar completely blocked by ice and snow.

  Han knew they would have to find some other route to Leia’s escape ship—and quickly. He began to lead them back down the corridor, careful to avoid falling ice, and snapped on his comlink as they hurried toward the ship. “Transport C One Seven!” he yelled into the small microphone. “We’re coming! Hold on!”

  They were close enough to the hangar to hear Leia’s escape vessel preparing for lift-off from the Rebel ice base. If he could lead them safely just a few meters more, the princess would be safe and—

  The chamber suddenly quaked with a terrible noise that thundered through the underground base. In an instant the entire ceiling had crashed down in front of them, creating a solid barrier of ice between them and the hangar docks. They stared in shock at the dense white mass.

  “We’re cut off,” Han yelled into his comlink, knowing that if the transport were to make good its escape there could be no time wasted in melting down or blasting through the barricade. “You’ll have to take off without Princess Organa.” He turned to her. “If we’re lucky we can still make it to the Falcon.”

  The princess and See-Threepio followed as Han dashed toward another chamber, hoping that the Millennium Falcon and his Wookiee copilot had not already been buried under an avalanche of ice.

  Looking out across the white battlefield, the Rebel officer watched the remaining snowspeeders whisking through the air and the last of the Imperial vehicles as they passed the wreckage of the exploded walker. He flipped on his comlink and heard the order to retreat: “Disengage, disengage. Begin retreat action.” As he signaled his men to move back inside the ice cavern, he noticed that the lead walker was still treading heavily in the direction of the power generators.

  In the cockpit of that assault machine, General Veers stepped close to the port. From this position he could clearly see the target below. He studied the crackling power generators and observed the Rebel troops defending them.

  “Point-three-point-three-point-five … coming within range, sir,” reported his pilot.

  The general turned to his assault officer. “All troops will debark for ground assault,” Veers said. “Prepare to target the main generator.”

  The lead walker, flanked by two of the hulking machines, lurched forward, its guns blazing to scatter the retreating Rebel troops.

  As more laser fire came from the oncoming walkers, Rebel bodies and parts of Rebel bodies were flung through the air. Many of the soldiers who had managed to avoid the obliterating laser beams were crushed into unrecognizable pulp beneath the walkers’ stomping feet. The air was charged with the stink of blood and burning flesh, and thundering with the explosive noises of battle.

  As they fled, the few surviving Rebel soldiers glimpsed a lone snowspeeder as it retreated in the distance, a black trail of smoke escaping its burning hull.

  Although the smoke rising from his crippled speeder obstructed his view, Hobbie could still see some of the carnage that raged on the ground. His wounds from a walker’s laser fire made it torture even to move, let alone operate the controls of his craft. But if he could manage to work them just long enough to return to the base, he might be able to find a medical robot and …

  No, he doubted he would survive even that long. He was dying—of that he was now certain—and the men in the trench would soon be dead, too, unless something were done to save them.

  General Veers, proudly transmitting his report to Imperial headquarters, was totally unaware of Rogue Four’s approach. “Yes, Lord Vader, I’ve reached the main power generators. The shield will be down in moments. You may commence your landing.”

  As he ended his transmission, General Veers reached for the electrorangefinder and looked through the eyepiece to line up the main power generators. Electronic crosshairs aligned according to the information from the walker’s computers. Then suddenly the readouts on the small monitor screens mysteriously vanished.

  Confounded, General Veers moved away from the eyepiece of the electrorangefinder and turned instinctively toward a cockpit window. He flinched in terror at seeing a smoking projectile heading on a direct course toward his walker’s cockpit.

  The other pilots also saw the hurtling speeder, and knew that there was no time to turn the massive assault machine. “He’s going to—” one of the pilots began.

  At that instant, Hobbie’s burning ship crashed through the walker cockpit like a manned bomb, its fuel igniting into a cascade of flame and debris. For a second there were human screams, then fragments, and the entire machine crashed to the ground.

  * * *

  Perhaps it was the sound of this nearby blast that jarred Luke Skywalker back to consciousness. Dazed, he slowly lifted his head from the snow. He felt very weak and was achingly stiff with cold. The thought crossed his mind that frostbite might already have damaged his tissues. He hoped not; he had no desire to spend any more time in that sticky bacta fluid.

  He tried to stand, but fell back against the snow, hoping he would not be spotted by any of the walker pilots. His comlink whistled, and somehow he found the strength to flick on its receiver.

  “Forward units’ withdrawal complete,” the broadcast voice reported.

  Withdrawal? Luke thought a moment. Then Leia and the others must have escaped! Luke suddenly felt that all the fighting and the deaths of loyal Rebel personnel had not been for nothing. A warmth rushed through his body, and he gathered his strength to rise and begin making the long trek back toward a distant formation of ice.

  Another explosion rocked the Rebel hangar deck, cracking the ceiling and almost burying the docked Millennium Falcon in a mound of ice. At any moment the entire ceiling might cave in. The only safe place in the hangar seemed to be underneath the ship itself where Chewbacca was impatiently awaiting the return of his captain. The Wookiee had begun to worry. If Han did not return soon, the Falcon would surely be buried in a tomb of ice. But loyalty to his partner kept Chewie from taking off in the freighter alone.

  As the hangar started to tremble more violently, Chewbacca detected movement in the adjoining chamber. Throwing back his head, the shaggy giant filled the hangar with hi
s loudest roar as he saw Han Solo climb over hills of ice and snow and enter the chamber, followed closely by Princess Leia and an obviously nervous See-Threepio.

  Not far from the hangar, Imperial stormtroopers, their faces shielded by white helmets and white snowscreens, had begun moving down deserted corridors. With them strode their leader, the dark-robed figure who surveyed the shambles that had been the Rebel base at Hoth. Darth Vader’s black image stood out starkly against the white walls, ceiling, and floor. As he moved through the white catacombs, he regally stepped aside to avoid a falling section of the ice ceiling. Then he continued on his way with such quick strides that his troops had to hurry to keep up.

  A low whine, rising in pitch, began to issue from the saucer-shaped freighter. Han Solo stood at the controls in the Millennium Falcon’s cockpit, at last feeling at home. He quickly flipped one switch after another, expecting to see the board flash its familiar mosaic of light; but only some of the lights were working.

  Chewbacca had also noticed something amiss and barked with concern as Leia examined a gauge that seemed to be malfunctioning.

  “How’s that, Chewie?” asked Han anxiously.

  The Wookiee’s bark was distinctly negative.

  “Would it help if I got out and pushed?” snapped Princess Leia, who was beginning to wonder if it were the Corellian’s spit that held the ship together.

  “Don’t worry, Your Holiness. I’ll get it started.”

  See-Threepio clanked into the hold and, gesturing, tried to get Han’s attention. “Sir,” the robot volunteered, “I was wondering if I might—” But his scanners read the scowl on the face staring at him. “It can wait,” he concluded.

  Imperial stormtroopers, accompanied by the rapidly moving Darth Vader, thundered through the ice corridors of the Rebel base. Their pace quickened as they rushed in the direction of the low whine coming from the ion engines. Vader’s body tensed slightly as, entering the hangar, he perceived the familiar saucer-shaped form of the Millennium Falcon.

  Within the battered freighter ship, Han Solo and Chewbacca were trying desperately to get the craft moving.

  “This bucket of bolts is never going to get us past that blockade,” Princess Leia complained.

  Han pretended that he didn’t hear her. Instead, he checked the Falcon’s controls and struggled to keep his patience even though his companion had so obviously lost hers. He flipped switches on the control console, ignoring the princess’s look of disdain. Clearly, she doubted that this assemblage of spare parts and welded hunks of scrap metal would hold together even if they did manage to get beyond the blockade.

  Han pushed a button on the intercom. “Chewie … come on!” Then, winking at Leia, he said, “This baby’s still got a few surprises left in her.”

  “I’ll be surprised if we start moving.”

  Before Han could make a carefully honed retort, the Falcon was jolted by a blast of Imperial laser fire that flashed outside the cockpit window. They could all see the squad of Imperial stormtroopers rushing with drawn weapons into the far end of the ice hangar. Han knew that the Falcon’s dented hull might resist the force of those hand weapons, but would be destroyed by the more powerful bazooka-shaped weapon that two of the Imperial troopers were hurriedly setting up.

  “Chewie!” Han yelled as he quickly strapped himself into his pilot’s chair. Meanwhile, a somewhat subdued young woman seated herself in the navigator’s chair.

  Outside the Millennium Falcon, stormtroopers worked with military efficiency to set up their enormous gun. Behind them the hangar doors began to open. One of the Falcon’s powerful laser weapons appeared from the hull and swung about, aiming directly at the stormtroopers.

  Han moved urgently to block the Imperial soldiers’ efforts. Without hesitation he released a deadly blast from the powerful laser weapon he had aimed at the stormtroopers. The explosion scattered their armored bodies all over the hangar.

  Chewbacca dashed into the cockpit.

  “We’ll just have to switch over,” Han announced, “and hope for the best.”

  The Wookiee hurled his hairy bulk into the copilot’s seat as yet another laser blast erupted outside the window next to him. He yelled indignantly, then yanked back on the controls to bring the welcome roar of engine fire from deep inside the Falcon.

  The Corellian grinned at the princess, a gleeful I-told-you-so gleam in his eyes.

  “Someday,” she said with mild disgust, “you’re going to be wrong, and I just hope I’m there to see it.”

  Han just smiled then turned to his copilot. “Punch it!” he shouted.

  The huge freighter’s engines roared. And everything behind the craft instantly melted in the fiery exhaust billowing from its tailpiece. Chewbacca furiously worked the controls, watching out of the corner of his eyes the ice walls rushing past as the freighter blasted away.

  At the last moment, just before takeoff, Han caught a glimpse of additional stormtroopers running into the hangar. In their wake strode a foreboding giant clad entirely in black. Then there was only the blue and the beckoning of billions of stars.

  As the Millennium Falcon soared from the hangar, its flight was detected by Commander Luke Skywalker, who turned to smile at Wedge and his gunner. “At least Han got away.” The three then trudged along to their waiting X-wing fighter ships. When they finally reached them, they shook hands and moved off toward their separate vehicles.

  “Good luck, Luke,” Wedge said as they parted. “See you at the rendezvous.”

  Luke waved and began to walk toward his X-wing. Standing there amid the mountains of ice and snow, he was overcome by a surge of loneliness. He felt desperately alone now that even Han was gone. Worse than that, Princess Leia was also somewhere else; she might just as well be an entire universe away …

  Then out of nowhere a familiar whistle greeted Luke.

  “Artoo!” he exclaimed. “Is that you?”

  Sitting snugly in the socket that had been installed for these helpful R2 units was the little barrel-shaped droid, his head peeking from the top of the ship. Artoo had scanned the approaching figure and had whistled with relief when his computers informed him it was Luke. The young commander was equally relieved to reencounter the robot that had accompanied him on so many of his previous adventures.

  As he climbed into the cockpit and seated himself behind the controls, Luke could hear the sound of Wedge’s fighter roaring into the sky toward the Rebel rendezvous point. “Activate the power and stop worrying. We’ll soon be airborne,” Luke said in response to Artoo’s nervous beeping.

  His was the last Rebel ship to abandon what had, for a very brief time, been a secret outpost in the revolution against the tyranny of the Empire.

  Darth Vader, a raven specter, quickly strode through the ruins of the Rebel ice fortress, forcing his accompanying men into a brisk jog to keep up. As they moved through the corridors, Admiral Piett rushed up to overtake his master.

  “Seventeen ships destroyed,” he reported to the Dark Lord. “We don’t know how many got away.”

  Without turning his head, Vader snarled through his mask, “The Millennium Falcon?”

  Piett paused a moment before replying. He would have preferred to avoid that issue. “Our tracking scanners are on it now,” he responded a bit fearfully.

  Vader turned to face the admiral, his towering figure looming over the frightened officer. Piett felt a chill course through his veins, and when the Dark Lord spoke again his voice conveyed an image of the dreadful fate that would be inflicted if his commands were not executed.

  “I want that ship,” he hissed.

  The ice planet was rapidly shrinking to a point of dim light as the Millennium Falcon sped into space. Soon that planet seemed nothing more than one of the billions of light specks scattered throughout the black void.

  But the Falcon was not alone in its escape into deep space. Rather, it was followed by an Imperial fleet that included the Avenger Star Destroyer and a half-dozen TIE fighte
rs. The fighters moved ahead of the huge, slower-moving Destroyer, and closed in on the fleeing Millennium Falcon.

  Chewbacca howled over the roar of the Falcon’s engines. The ship was beginning to lurch with the buffeting flak blasted at it by the fighters.

  “I know, I know, I see them,” Han shouted. It was taking everything he had to maintain control of the ship.

  “See what?” Leia asked.

  Han pointed out the window at two very bright objects.

  “Two more Star Destroyers, and they’re heading right at us.”

  “I’m glad you said there was going to be no problem,” she commented with more than a touch of sarcasm, “or I’d be worried.”

  The ship rocked under the steady fire from the TIE fighters, making it difficult for Threepio to maintain his balance as he returned to the cockpit. His metal skin bumped and banged against the walls as he approached Han. “Sir,” he began tentatively, “I was wondering …”

  Han Solo shot him a threatening glance. “Either shut up or shut down,” Han warned the robot, who immediately did the former.

  Still struggling with the controls to keep the Millennium Falcon on course, the pilot turned to the Wookiee. “Chewie, how’s the deflector shield holding up?”

  The copilot adjusted an overhead switch and barked a reply that Solo interpreted as positive.

  “Good,” said Han. “At sublight, they may be faster, but we can still out-maneuver them. Hold on!” Suddenly the Corellian shifted his ship’s course.

  The two Imperial Star Destroyers had come almost within firing range of the Falcon as they loomed ahead; the pursuing TIE fighters and the Avenger were also dangerously close. Han felt he had no choice but to take the Falcon into a ninety-degree dive.

  Leia and Chewbacca felt their stomachs leap into their throats as the Falcon executed its steep dive. Poor Threepio quickly had to alter his inner mechanisms if he wanted to remain on his metallic feet.

  Han realized that his crew might think he was some kind of lunatic star jockey, pushing his ship on this madman’s course. But he had a strategy in mind. With the Falcon no longer between them, the two Star Destroyers were now on a direct collision course with the Avenger. All he had to do was sit back and watch.