by George Lucas
Needa had known that death was the likely consequence of his failure to capture the Millennium Falcon. He had known, too, that he had to report the situation to Vader and make his formal apology. But there was no mercy for failure among the Imperial military. And Vader, in disgust, had signaled for the captain’s death.
The Dark Lord turned, and Admiral Piett and two of his captains came to report their findings. “Lord Vader,” Piett said, “our ships have completed their scan of the area and found nothing. The Millennium Falcon definitely went into light-speed. It’s probably somewhere on the other side of the galaxy by now.”
Vader hissed through his breath mask. “Alert all commands,” he ordered. “Calculate every possible destination along their last known trajectory and disburse the fleet to search for them. Don’t fail me again, Admiral, I’ve had quite enough!”
Admiral Piett thought of the Avenger’s captain, whom he had just seen carried out of the room like a sack of grain. And he remembered the excruciating demise of Admiral Ozzel. “Yes, my lord,” he answered, trying to hide his fear. “We’ll find them.”
Then the admiral turned to an aide. “Deploy the fleet,” he instructed. As the aide moved to carry out his orders, a shadow of worry crossed the admiral’s face. He was not at all certain that his luck would be any better than that of Ozzel or Needa.
Lord Vader’s Imperial Star Destroyer regally moved off into space. Its protecting fleet of smaller craft hovered nearby as the Imperial armada left the Star Destroyer Avenger behind.
No one on the Avenger or in Vader’s entire fleet had any idea how near they were to their prey. As the Avenger glided off into space to continue its search, it carried with it, clinging unnoticed to one side of the huge bridge tower, a saucer-shaped freighter ship—the Millennium Falcon.
Inside the Falcon’s cockpit all was quiet. Han Solo had stopped his ship and shut down all systems so quickly that even the customarily talkative See-Threepio was silent. Threepio stood, not moving a rivet, a look of wonder frozen on his golden face.
“You could have warned him before you shut him off,” Princess Leia said, looking at the droid that stood motionless like a bronzed statue.
“Oh, so sorry!” Han said in mock concern. “Didn’t mean to offend your droid. You think braking and shutting everything down in that amount of time is easy?”
Leia was dubious about Han’s entire strategy. “I’m still not sure what you’ve accomplished.”
He shrugged off her doubt. She’ll find out soon enough, he thought; there just wasn’t any other choice. He turned to his copilot. “Chewie, check the manual release on the landing claws.”
The Wookiee barked, then pulled himself out of his chair and moved toward the rear of the ship.
Leia watched as Chewbacca proceeded to disengage the landing claws so that the ship could take off without mechanical delay.
Shaking her head incredulously, she turned to Han. “What do you have in mind for your next move?”
“The fleet is finally breaking up,” he answered as he pointed out a port window. “I’m hoping they follow standard Imperial procedure and dump their garbage before they go into light-speed.”
The princess reflected on this strategy for a moment, and then began to smile. This crazy man might know what he was doing after all. Impressed, she patted him on the head. “Not bad, hot shot, not bad. Then what?”
“Then,” Han said, “we have to find a safe port around here. Got any ideas?”
“That depends. Where are we?”
“Here,” Han said, pointing to a configuration of small light points, “near the Anoat system.”
Slipping out of her chair, Leia moved next to him for a better look at the screen.
“Funny,” Han said after thinking for a moment, “I have the feeling I’ve been in this area before. Let me check my logs.”
“You keep logs?” Leia was more impressed by the minute. “My, how organized,” she teased.
“Well, sometimes,” he answered as he hunted through the computer readout. “Ah-ha, I knew it! Lando—now this should be interesting.”
“I never heard of that system,” said Leia.
“It’s not a system. He’s a man, Lando Calrissian. A gambler, con artist, all-around scoundrel,” he paused long enough for the last word to sink in, and gave the princess a wink, “… your kind of guy. The Bespin system. It’s a fair distance but reachable.”
Leia looked at one of the computer monitor screens and read the data. “A mining colony,” she noted.
“A Tibanna gas mine,” Han added. “Lando won it in a sabacc match, or so he claims. Lando and I go way back.”
“Can you trust him?” Leia asked.
“No. But he has no love for the Empire, that much I know.”
The Wookiee barked over the intercom.
Quickly responding, Han flicked some switches to bring new information to the computer screens, and then stretched to look out the cockpit window. “I see it, Chewie, I see it,” he said. “Prepare for manual release.” Then, turning to the princess, Han said, “Here goes nothing, sweetheart.” He leaned back in his chair and smiled invitingly at her.
Leia shook her head, then grinned shyly and gave him a quick kiss. “You do have your moments,” she reluctantly admitted. “Not many, but you have them.”
Han was getting used to the princess’s left-handed compliments, and he couldn’t say that he really minded them. More and more he was enjoying the fact that she shared his own sarcastic sense of humor. And he was fairly sure that she was enjoying it, too.
“Let’er go, Chewie,” he shouted gleefully.
The hatch on the underbelly of the Avenger yawned open. And as the Imperial galactic cruiser zoomed into hyperspace, it spewed out its own belt of artificial asteroids—garbage and sections of irreparable machinery that scattered out into the black void of space. Hidden among that trail of refuse, the Millennium Falcon tumbled undetected off the side of the larger ship, and was left far behind as the Avenger streaked away.
Safe at last, Han Solo thought.
The Millennium Falcon ignited its ion engines, and raced off through the train of drifting space junk toward another system.
But concealed among that scattered debris was another ship.
And as the Falcon roared off to seek the Bespin system, this other ship ignited its own engines. Boba Fett, the most notorious and dreaded bounty hunter in the galaxy, turned his small, elephant’s-head-shaped craft, Slave I, to begin its pursuit. For Boba Fett had no intention of losing sight of the Millennium Falcon. Its pilot had too high a price on his head. And this was one reward that the fearsome bounty hunter was quite determined to collect.
* * *
Luke felt that he was definitely progressing.
He ran through the jungle—with Yoda perched on his neck—and leaped with gazellelike grace over the profusion of foliage and tree roots growing throughout the bog.
Luke had at last begun to detach himself from the emotion of pride. He felt unburdened, and was finally open to experience fully the flow of the Force.
When his diminutive instructor threw a silver bar above Luke’s head, the young Jedi student reacted instantly. In a flash he turned to slice the bar into four shiny segments before it fell to the ground.
Yoda was pleased and smiled at Luke’s accomplishment. “Four this time! The Force you feel.”
But Luke was suddenly distracted. He sensed something dangerous, something evil. “Something’s not right,” he said to Yoda. “I feel danger … death.”
He looked around him, trying to see what it was that emitted so powerful an aura. As he turned he saw a huge, tangled tree, its blackened bark dry and crumbling. The base of the tree was surrounded by a small pond of water, where the gigantic roots had grown to form the opening to a darkly sinister cave.
Luke gently lifted Yoda from his neck and set him on the ground. Transfixed, the Jedi student stared at the dark monstrosity. Breathing hard, he found himself
unable to speak.
“You brought me here purposely,” Luke said at last.
Yoda sat on a tangled root and put his Gimer Stick in his mouth. Calmly looking at Luke, he said nothing.
Luke shivered. “I feel cold,” he said, still gazing at the tree.
“This tree is strong with the dark side of the Force. A servant of evil it is. Into it you must go.”
Luke felt a tremor of apprehension. “What’s in there?”
“Only what you take with you,” Yoda said cryptically.
Luke looked warily at Yoda, and then at the tree. He silently resolved to take his courage, his willingness to learn, and step within that darkness to face whatever it was that awaited him. He would take nothing more than—
No. He would also bring his lightsaber.
Lighting his weapon, Luke stepped through the shallow waters of the pond and toward the dark opening between those great and foreboding roots.
But the Jedi Master’s voice stopped him.
“Your weapon,” Yoda reproved. “You won’t need it.”
Luke paused and looked again at the tree. Go into that evil cave completely unarmed? As skilled as Luke was becoming, he did not feel quite equal to that test. He gripped his saber tighter and shook his head.
Yoda shrugged and placidly gnawed his Gimer Stick.
Taking a deep breath, Luke cautiously stepped into the grotesque tree cave.
The dark inside the cave was so thick that Luke could feel it against his skin, so black that the light thrown by his laser sword was quickly absorbed and illuminated scarcely more than a meter in front of him. As he slowly moved forward, slimy, dripping things brushed against his face and the moisture from the soggy cave floor began to seep into his boots.
As he pushed through the blackness, his eyes began to grow accustomed to the dark. He saw a corridor before him, but as he moved toward it, he was surprised by a thick, sticky membrane that completely enveloped him. Like the web of some gigantic spider, the mass clung tightly to Luke’s body. Thrashing at it with his lightsaber, Luke finally managed to disentangle himself and clear a path ahead.
He held his glowing sword in front of him and noticed an object on the cave floor. Pointing his lightsaber downward, Luke illuminated a black, shiny beetle the size of his hand. In an instant, the thing scurried up the slimy wall to join a cluster of its mates.
Luke caught his breath and stepped back. At that moment he considered hunting for the exit—but he braced himself and ventured still deeper into the dark chamber.
He felt the space about him widen as he moved forward, using his lightsaber as a dim beacon. He strained to see in the darkness, trying his best to hear. But there was no sound at all. Nothing.
Then, a very loud hiss.
The sound was familiar. He froze where he stood. He had heard that hiss even in his nightmares; it was the labored breath of a thing that had once been a man.
Out of the darkness a light appeared—the blue flame of a just-ignited laser sword. In its illumination Luke saw the looming figure of Darth Vader raise his lighted weapon to attack, and then lunge.
Prepared by his disciplined Jedi training, Luke was ready. He raised his own lightsaber and perfectly sidestepped Vader’s attack. In the same movement, Luke turned to Vader and, with his mind and body completely focused, the youth summoned the Force. Feeling its power within him, Luke raised his laser weapon and brought it crashing down on Vader’s head.
With one powerful stroke, the Dark Lord’s head was severed from his body. Head and helmet crashed to the ground and rolled about the cave floor with a loud metallic bang. As Luke watched in astonishment, Vader’s body was completely swallowed up by the darkness. Then Luke looked down at the helmet that had come to rest directly in front of him. For a moment it was completely still. Then the helmet cracked in half and split open.
As Luke watched in shocked disbelief, the broken helmet fell aside to reveal, not the unknown, imagined face of Darth Vader, but Luke’s own face, looking up at him.
He gasped, horrified at the sight. And then, as suddenly as it had appeared, the decapitated head faded away as if in a ghostly vision.
Luke stared at the dark space where the head and pieces of helmet had lain. His mind reeled, the emotions that raged inside of him were almost too much to bear.
The tree! he told himself. It was all some trick of this ugly cave, some charade of Yoda’s, arranged because he had come into the tree carrying a weapon.
He wondered if he were really fighting himself, or if he had fallen prey to the temptations of the dark side of the Force. He might himself become a figure as evil as Darth Vader. And he wondered if there might be some even darker meaning behind the unsettling vision.
It was a long while before Luke Skywalker was able to move from that deep, dark cave.
Meanwhile, sitting on the root, the little Jedi Master calmly gnawed his Gimer Stick.
XI
IT WAS DAWN ON THE GASEOUS BESPIN planet.
As the Millennium Falcon began its approach through the planet’s atmosphere, it soared past several of Bespin’s many moons. The planet itself glowed with the same soft pink hue of dawn that tinted the hull of the powerful pirate starship. As the ship neared, it swerved to avoid a billowing canyon of clouds that swirled up around the planet.
When Han Solo finally lowered his ship through the clouds, he and his crew got their first glimpse of the gaseous world of Bespin. And as they maneuvered through the clouds, they noticed that they were being followed by some kind of flying vehicle. Han recognized the craft as a twin-pod cloud car but was surprised when the car began to bank close to his freighter. The Falcon suddenly lurched as a round of laser fire struck its hull. No one on the Falcon had expected this kind of greeting.
The other craft transmitted a static-obscured message over the Falcon’s radio system.
“No,” Han snarled in reply, “I do not have a landing permit. My registration is—”
But his words were drowned out by a loud crackle of radio static.
The twin-pod car was apparently not willing to accept static for a reply. Again it opened up fire on the Falcon, shaking and rattling the ship with each strike.
A clear warning voice came over the freighter’s speakers: “Stand by. Any aggressive move will bring about your destruction.”
At this point Han had no intention of making any aggressive moves. Bespin was their only hope of sanctuary, and he didn’t plan to alienate his prospective hosts.
“Rather touchy, aren’t they?” the reactivated See-Threepio asked.
“I thought you knew these people,” Leia chided, casting a suspicious look at Han.
“Well,” the Corellian hedged, “it’s been a while.”
Chewbacca growled and barked, shaking his head meaningfully at Han.
“That was a long time ago,” he answered sharply. “I’m sure he’s forgotten all about it.” But he began to wonder if Lando had forgotten the past …
“Permission granted to land on Platform 327. Any deviation of flight pattern will bring about your—”
Angrily, Han switched off the radio. Why was he being put through this harrassment? He was coming here peacefully; wasn’t Lando going to let bygones be bygones? Chewbacca grunted and glanced at Solo, who turned to Leia and her worried robot. “He’ll help us,” he said, trying to reassure them all. “We go way back … really. Don’t worry.”
“Who’s worried?” she lied unconvincingly.
By then they could clearly see the Cloud City of Bespin through the cockpit window. The city was immense and seemed to float in the clouds as it emerged through the white atmosphere. As the Millennium Falcon approached the city, it became evident that the expansive city structure was supported from below by a thin unipod. The base of this supporting stalk was a large round reactor that floated through its billowing sea of clouds.
The Millennium Falcon dipped closer to the huge city and veered in the direction of its landing platforms, flying
past the rising towers and spires that dotted the city’s landscape. In and about these structures cruised more of the twin-pod cloud cars, gliding effortlessly through the mists.
Han gently brought the Falcon in to land on Platform 327; and as the ship’s ion engines whined to a stop, the captain and his crew could see the welcoming party moving toward the landing platform with weapons drawn. Like any cross-section of the citizenry of Cloud City, this group included aliens, droids, and humans of all races and descriptions. One of these humans was the group’s leader, Lando Calrissian.
Lando, a handsome black man perhaps the same age as Solo, was clad in elegant gray pants, blue shirt, and a flowing blue cape. He stood, unsmiling, on Landing Platform 327, waiting for the Falcon’s crew to disembark.
Han Solo and Princess Leia appeared at the open door of their ship, with blasters drawn. Standing behind them was the giant Wookiee, his gun in hand and a bandoleer of ammunition packs slung over his left shoulder.
Han didn’t speak but quietly surveyed the menacing welcoming party that was marching across the platform toward them. An early morning wind began to sweep along the ground, making Lando’s cloak fly up behind him like enormous deep blue wings.
“I don’t like this,” Leia whispered to Han.
He didn’t much like it either, but he wasn’t going to let the princess know that. “It’ll be all right,” he said quietly. “Trust me.” Then, cautioning her, he added, “But keep your eyes open. Wait here.”
Han and Chewbacca left Leia guarding the Falcon and they walked down the ramp to face Calrissian and his motley army. The two parties moved toward each other until Han and Calrissian stopped, three meters apart, to face each other. For a long moment, each one eyed the other silently.
Finally Calrissian spoke, shaking his head and squinting at Han. “Why, you slimy, double-crossing, no-good swindler,” he said grimly.
“I can explain everything, ol’ buddy,” Han said quickly, “if you’ll just listen.”
Still unsmiling, Lando surprised alien and human alike when he said, “Glad to see you.”
