by George Lucas
Han lifted an eyebrow skeptically. “No hard feelings?”
“Are you kidding?” Lando asked coolly.
Han was becoming nervous. Had he been forgiven or not? The guards and aides still had not lowered their weapons, and Lando’s attitude was mystifying. Trying to conceal his worry, Han remarked gallantly, “I always said you were a gentleman.”
With that, the other man broke into a grin. “I’ll bet,” he chuckled.
Han laughed in relief, as the two old friends at last embraced each other like the long-lost accomplices they were.
Lando waved at the Wookiee, standing behind his boss. “How you doing, Chewbacca?” he asked amiably. “Still wasting your time with this clown, eh?”
The Wookiee growled a reserved greeting.
Calrissian was not certain what to make of that growl. “Right,” he half-smiled, looking uncomfortable. But his attention was distracted from this shaggy mass of muscle and hair when he saw Leia beginning to walk down the ramp. This lovely vision was followed closely by her protocol droid, who cautiously glanced around as they walked toward Lando and Han.
“Hello! What have we here?” Calrissian welcomed her admiringly. “I am Lando Calrissian, administrator of this facility. And who might you be?”
The princess remained coolly polite. “You may call me Leia,” she replied.
Lando bowed formally and gently kissed the princess’s hand.
“And I,” her robot companion said, introducing himself to the administrator, “am See-Threepio, human-cyborg relations, at your—”
But before Threepio could finish his little speech, Han draped one arm about Lando’s shoulder and steered him away from the princess. “She’s travelling with me, Lando,” he advised his old friend, “and I don’t intend to gamble her away. So you might as well forget she exists.”
Lando looked longingly over his shoulder as he and Han began to walk across the landing platform, followed by Leia, Threepio, and Chewbacca. “That won’t be easy, my friend,” Lando said regretfully.
Then he turned to Han. “What brings you here anyway?”
“Repairs.”
Mock panic spread across Lando’s face. “What have you done to my ship?”
Grinning, Han glanced back at Leia. “Lando used to own the Falcon” he explained. “And he sometimes forgets that he lost her fair and square.”
Lando shrugged as he conceded to Han’s boastful claim. “That ship saved my life more than a few times. It’s the fastest hunk of junk in the galaxy. What’s wrong with her?”
“Hyperdrive.”
“I’ll have my people get to work on it right away,” Lando said. “I hate the thought of the Millennium Falcon without her heart.”
The group crossed the narrow bridge that joined the landing area to the city—and were instantly dazzled by its beauty. They saw numerous small plazas ringed by smooth-edged towers and spires and buildings. The structures that constituted Cloud City’s business and residential sections were gleaming white, shining brightly in the morning sun. Numerous alien races made up the city’s populace and many of these citizens leisurely walked through the spacious streets alongside the Falcon visitors.
“How’s your mining operation going?” Han asked Lando.
“Not as well as I’d like,” Calrissian answered. “We’re a small outpost and not very self-sufficient. I’ve had supply problems of every kind and …” The administrator noticed Han’s amused grin. “What’s so funny?”
“Nothing.” Then Han chuckled. “I never would have guessed that underneath that wild schemer I knew was a responsible leader and businessman.” Grudgingly, Han had to admit that he was impressed. “You wear it well.”
Lando looked at his old friend reflectively. “Seeing you sure brings back a few memories.” He shook his head, smiling. “Yes, I’m responsible these days. It’s the price of success. And you know what, Han? You were right all along. It’s overrated.”
Both burst out laughing, causing a head or two to turn as the group moved through the city walkways.
See-Threepio lagged a bit behind, fascinated by the bustling alien crowds in the Cloud City streets, the floating cars, the fabulous, fanciful buildings. He turned his head back and forth, trying to register it all in his computer circuits.
As the golden droid gawked at the new sights, he passed a door facing the walkway. Hearing it open, he turned to see a silver Threepio unit emerging and stopped to watch the other robot move away. While Threepio paused there, he heard a muffled beeping and whistling coming from behind the door.
He peeked in and saw a familiar-looking droid sitting in the anteroom. “Oh, an R2 unit!” he chirped in delight. “I’d almost forgotten what they sound like.”
Threepio moved through the doorway and walked into the room. Instantly he sensed that he and the R2 unit were not alone. He threw his golden arms up in surprise, the expression of wonder on his gilded faceplate frozen in place. “Oh, my!” he exclaimed. “Those look like—”
As he spoke, a rocketing laser bolt crashed into his metal chest, sending him flying in twenty directions around the room. His bronzed arms and legs crashed against the walls and settled in a smoldering heap with the rest of his mechanical body.
Behind him, the door slammed shut.
Some distance away, Lando guided the small group into his hall of offices, pointing out objects of interest as they moved through the white corridors. None of them had noticed Threepio’s absence as they walked along, discussing life in Bespin.
But Chewbacca suddenly stopped and curiously sniffed the air as he looked behind him. Then he shrugged his huge shoulders and continued to follow the others.
Luke was perfectly calm. Even his present position did not make him feel tense or strained or unsure, or any of the negative things he used to feel when he first attempted this feat. He stood, perfectly balanced on one hand. He knew the Force was with him.
His patient master, Yoda, sat calmly on the soles of Luke’s upturned feet. Luke concentrated serenely on his task and all at once he lifted four fingers from the ground. His balance undisturbed, he held his upside-down position—on one thumb.
Luke’s determination had made him a quick study. He was eager to learn and was undaunted by the tests Yoda had devised for him. And now he felt confident that when he finally left this planet, it would be as a full-fledged Jedi Knight prepared to fight only for the noblest of causes.
Luke was rapidly growing stronger with the Force and, indeed, was accomplishing miracles. Yoda grew more pleased with his apprentice’s progress. Once, while Yoda stood watching nearby, Luke used the Force to lift two large equipment cases and suspend them in midair. Yoda was pleased, but noticed Artoo-Detoo observing this apparent impossibility and emitting electronic beeps of disbelief. The Jedi Master raised his hand and, with the Force, lifted the little droid off the ground.
Artoo hovered, his baffled internal circuits and sensors trying to detect the unseen power that held him suspended in the air. And suddenly the invisible hand played still another joke on him: While hanging in midair, the little robot was abruptly turned upside down. His white legs kicked desperately and his dome head spun helplessly around. When Yoda finally lowered his hand, the droid, along with two supply cases, began to drop. But only the boxes smashed against the ground. Artoo remained suspended in space.
Turning his head, Artoo perceived his young master, standing with hand extended, preventing Artoo from a fatal tumble.
Yoda shook his head, impressed by his student’s quick thinking and by his control.
Yoda sprang onto Luke’s arm and the two of them turned back toward the house. But they had forgotten something: Artoo-Detoo was still hanging in the air, beeping and whistling frantically, trying to get their attention. Yoda was merely playing another joke on the fretful droid, and as Yoda and Luke strolled away, Artoo heard the Jedi Master’s bell-like laugh float in gay peals behind him as the droid slowly lowered to the ground.
Some time l
ater, as dusk crept through the dense foliage of the bog, Artoo was cleaning the X-wing’s hull. Through a hose that ran from the pond to an orifice in his side, the robot sprayed down the ship with a powerful stream of water. And while he worked, Luke and Yoda sat in the clearing, Luke’s eyes closed in concentration.
“Be calm,” Yoda told him. “Through the Force things you will see: other places, other thoughts, the future, the past, old friends long gone.”
Luke was losing himself as he concentrated on Yoda’s words. He was becoming unaware of his body and let his consciousness drift with the words of his master.
“My mind fills with so many images.”
“Control, control you must learn of what you see,” the Jedi Master instructed. “Not easy, not fast.”
Luke closed his eyes, relaxed, and began to free his mind, began to control the images. At last there was something, not clear at first, but something white, amorphous. Gradually the image cleared. It seemed to be that of a city, a city that perhaps floated in a billowing white sea.
“I see a city in the clouds,” he finally said.
“Bespin,” Yoda identified it. “I see it, too. Friends you have there, heh? Concentrate and see them you will.”
Luke’s concentration intensified. And the city in the clouds became clearer. As he concentrated he was able to see forms, familiar forms of people he knew.
“I see them!” Luke exclaimed, his eyes still shut. Then a sudden agony, of body and spirit, took hold of him. “They’re in pain. They’re suffering.”
“It is the future you see,” the voice of Yoda explained.
The future, Luke thought. Then the pain he had felt had not yet been inflicted on his friends. So perhaps the future was not unchangeable.
“Will they die?” he asked his master.
Yoda shook his head and shrugged gently. “Difficult to see. Always in motion is the future.”
Luke opened his eyes again. He stood up and quickly began to gather his equipment. “They’re my friends,” he said, guessing that the Jedi Master might try to dissuade him from doing what he knew he must.
“And therefore,” Yoda added, “decide you must how to serve them best. If you leave now, help them you would. But you would destroy all for which they have fought and suffered.”
His words stopped Luke cold. The youth sank to the ground, feeling a shroud of gloom envelop him. Could he really destroy everything he had worked for and possibly also destroy his friends? But how could he not try to save them?
Artoo perceived his master’s despair and rolled over to stand by him and provide what comfort he could.
Chewbacca, who had grown concerned about See-Threepio, slipped away from Han Solo and the others and began hunting for the missing droid. All he had to follow were his keen Wookiee instincts as he wandered through the unfamiliar white passageways and corridors of Bespin.
Following his senses, Chewbacca finally came upon an enormous room in a corridor on the outside of the Cloud City. He approached the entrance to the room and heard the clamor of metallic objects clattering together. Along with the clanging, he heard the low grunting of creatures he had never encountered before.
The room he had found was a Cloud City junk room—the repository of all the city’s broken machines and other discarded metal junk.
Standing amid the scattered pieces of metal and tangled wire were four hoglike creatures. White hair grew thickly on their heads and partially covered their wrinkled piggish faces. The humanoid beasts—called Ugnaughts on this planet—were busy separating the junked pieces of metal and casting them into a pit of molten metal.
Chewbacca entered the room and saw that one of the Ugnaughts held a familiar-looking piece of golden metal.
The piglike creature was already raising his arm to toss the severed metal leg into the sizzling pit when Chewbacca roared at him, barking desperately. The Ugnaught dropped the leg and ran, to cower in terror with his fellows.
The Wookiee grabbed the metal leg and inspected it closely. He hadn’t been mistaken. And as he growled angrily at the huddled Ugnaughts, they shivered and grunted like a pack of frightened pigs.
Sunlight streamed into the circular lounge of the apartments assigned to Han Solo and his group. The lounge was white and furnished simply, with a couch and a table and little of anything else. Each of the four sliding doors, placed along the circular wall, led to an adjoining apartment.
Han leaned out the lounge’s large bay window to take in the panoramic view of Cloud City. The sight was breathtaking, even to such a jaded star jockey. He watched the flying cloud cars weave between the towering buildings, then looked down to see the people moving through the networks of streets below. The cool, clean air swept against his face, and, at least for the present, he felt as if he didn’t have a care in all the universe.
A door behind him opened, and he turned to see Princess Leia standing in the entranceway to her apartment. She was stunning. Dressed in red with a cloud-white cloak flowing to the floor, Leia looked more beautiful than Han had ever seen her. Her long, dark hair was tied with ribbons and it softly framed her oval face. And she was looking at him, smiling at his astounded expression.
“What are you staring at?” she asked, beginning to blush.
“Who’s staring?”
“You look silly,” she said, laughing.
“You look great.”
Leia looked away in embarrassment. “Has Threepio turned up yet?” she asked, trying to change the subject.
Solo was taken off guard. “Huh? Oh. Chewie went to look for him. He’s been gone too long just to be lost.” He patted the softly cushioned sofa. “Come over here,” he beckoned. “I want to check this out.”
She thought about his invitation for a moment, then walked over and sat next to him on the couch. Han was overjoyed at her apparent compliance and leaned over to put his arm around her. But just before he had quite succeeded, she spoke again. “I hope Luke made it to the fleet all right.”
“Luke!” He was becoming exasperated. How hard did he have to play at this game of hard-to-get? It was her game, and her rules—but he had chosen to play. She was too lovely to resist. “I’m sure he’s fine,” Han said, soothingly. “Probably sitting around wondering what we’re doing right now.”
He moved closer and put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer to him. She gazed at him invitingly, and he moved to kiss her—
Just then one of the doors zapped open. Chewbacca lumbered in carrying a large packing case filled with disturbingly familiar metal parts—the remains, in bronzed bits and pieces, of See-Threepio. The Wookiee dropped the case on the table. Gesturing toward Han, he barked and growled in distress.
“What happened?” Leia asked, moving closer to inspect the pile of disjointed parts.
“He found Threepio in a junk room.”
Leia gasped. “What a mess! Chewie, do you think you can repair him?”
Chewbacca studied the collection of robot parts, then, looking back at the princess, shrugged his shoulders and howled. It looked to him like an impossible job.
“Why don’t we just turn him over to Lando to fix?” Han suggested.
“No thanks,” Leia answered, with a cold look in her eyes. “Something’s wrong here. Your friend Lando is very charming, but I don’t trust him.”
“Well, I do trust him,” Han argued, defending his host. “Listen, sweetheart, I’m not going to have you accusing my friend of—”
But he was interrupted by a buzz as a door slid open, and Lando Calrissian entered the lounge. Smiling cordially, he walked toward the small group. “Sorry, am I interrupting anything?”
“Not really,” the princess said distantly.
“My dear,” Lando said, ignoring her coldness toward him, “your beauty is unparalleled. Truly you belong here with us among the clouds.”
She smiled icily. “Thanks.”
“Would you care to join me for a little refreshment?”
Han had to admit t
hat he was a bit hungry. But for some reason he could not quite name, he felt a wave of suspicion about his friend flood over him. He didn’t remember Calrissian being quite so polite, quite so smooth. Perhaps Leia was correct in her suspicions …
His thoughts were interrupted by Chewbacca’s enthusiastic bark at the mention of food. The big Wookiee was licking his lips at the prospect of a hearty meal.
“Everyone’s invited, of course,” Lando said.
Leia took Lando’s proffered arm and, as the group moved toward the door, Calrissian glimpsed the box of golden robot parts. “Having problems with your droid?” he asked.
Han and Leia exchanged a quick glance. If Han was going to ask for Lando’s help in repairing the droid, now was the moment. “An accident,” he grunted. “Nothing we can’t handle.”
They left the lounge, leaving behind them the shattered remains of the protocol droid.
The group strolled through the long white corridors and Leia walked between Han and Lando. Han wasn’t at all certain he liked the prospect of competing with Lando for Leia’s affections—especially under the circumstances. But they were dependent on Lando’s good graces now. They had no other choice.
Joining them as they walked was Lando’s personal aide, a tall bald man dressed in a gray jacket with ballooning yellow sleeves. The aide wore a radio device that wrapped around the back of his head and covered both his ears. He walked along with Chewbacca a short distance behind Han, Leia, and Lando, and as they walked toward Lando’s dining hall, the administrator described the status of his planet’s government.
“So you see,” Lando explained, “we are a free station and do not fall under the jurisdiction of the Empire.”
“You’re part of the mining guild then?” Leia asked.
“Not actually. Our operation is small enough not to be noticed. Much of our trade is, well … unofficial.”
They stepped onto a veranda that overlooked the spiraled top of Cloud City. From here they saw several flying cloud cars gracefully swooping around the beautiful spired buildings of the city. It was a spectacular view, and the visitors were very impressed.
