by George Lucas
“Empty,” the Sergeant in charge finally declared in surprise. “Check the cockpit.”
Several troopers made their way forward and slid the portal aside, only to discover the pilot’s chairs as vacant as the rest of the freighter. The controls were deactivated and all systems shut down. Only a single light on the console winked on and off fitfully. The Sergeant moved forward, recognized the source of the light, and activated the appropriate controls. A printout appeared on a nearby screen. He studied it intently, then turned to convey the information to his superior, who was waiting by the main hatch.
That worthy listened carefully before he turned and called down to the Commander and Vader. “There is no one aboard; the ship is completely deserted, sirs. According to the ship’s log, her crew abandoned ship immediately after lift-off, then set her on automatics for Alderaan.”
“Possibly a decoy,” the Commander ventured aloud. “Then they should still be on Tatooine!”
“Possibly,” Vader admitted reluctantly.
“Several of the escape pods have been jettisoned,” the officer went on.
“Did you find any droids on board?” Vader called.
“No, sir—nothing. If there were any, they must have abandoned the ship along with the organic crew.”
Vader hesitated before replying. When he did so, uncertainty was evident in his voice. “This doesn’t feel right. Send a fully equipped scanning team on board. I want every centimeter of that ship checked out. See to it as soon as possible.” With that, he whirled and stalked from the hangar, pursued by the infuriating feeling that he was overlooking something of vital importance.
The rest of the assembled soldiers were dismissed by the officer. On board the freighter, a last lone figure left off examining the space beneath the cockpit consoles and ran to join his comrades. He was anxious to be off this ghost ship and back in the comfortable surroundings of the barracks. His heavy footsteps echoed through the once more empty freighter.
Below, the muffled sounds of the officer giving final orders faded, leaving the interior in complete quiet. The quivering of a portion of the floor was the only movement on board.
Abruptly the quivering became a sharp upheaval. Two metal panels popped upward, followed by a pair of tousled heads. Han Solo and Luke looked around quickly, then managed to relax a little when it became clear that the ship was as empty as it sounded.
“Lucky you’d built these compartments,” Luke commented.
Solo was not as cheerily confident. “Where did you think I kept smuggled goods—in the main hold? I admit I never expected to smuggle myself in them.” He started violently at a sudden sound, but it was only another of the panels shifting aside.
“This is ridiculous. It isn’t going to work. Even if I could take off and get past the closed hatch”—he jabbed a thumb upward—”we’d never get past that tractor beam.”
Another panel opened, revealing the face of an elderly imp. “You leave that to me.”
“I was afraid you’d say something like that,” muttered Solo. “You’re a damn fool, old man.”
Kenobi grinned at him. “What does that say of the man who allows himself to be hired by a fool?”
Solo muttered something under his breath as they pulled themselves clear of the compartments, Chewbacca doing so with a good deal of grunting and twisting.
Two technicians had arrived at the base of the ramp. They reported to the two bored soldiers guarding it.
“The ship’s all yours,” one of the troopers told them. “If the scanners pick up anything, report it immediately.”
The men nodded, then strained to lug their heavy equipment up the ramp. As soon as they disappeared inside, a loud crash was heard. Both guards whirled, then heard a voice call, “Hey, down there, could you give us a hand with this?”
One trooper looked at his companion, who shrugged. They both started up the ramp, muttering at the inefficiency of mere technicians. A second crashing sound reverberated, but now there was no one left to hear it.
But the absence of the two troopers was noticed, soon thereafter. A gantry officer passing the window of a small command office near the freighter entrance glanced out, frowning when he saw no sign of the guards. Concerned but not alarmed, he moved to a comlink and spoke into it as he continued to stare at the ship.
“THX-1138, why aren’t you at your post? THX- 1138, do you copy?”
The speaker gave back only static.
“THX-1138, why don’t you reply?” The officer was beginning to panic when an armored figure descended the ramp and waved toward him. Pointing to the portion of his helmet covering his right ear, the figured tapped it to indicate the comlink inside wasn’t working.
Shaking his head in disgust, the gantry officer gave his busy aide an annoyed look as he made for the door. “Take over here. We’ve got another bad transmitter. I’m going to see what I can do.” He activated the door, took a step forward as it slid aside—and stumbled backward in a state of shock.
Filling the door completely was a towering hairy form. Chewbacca leaned inward and with a bone splintering howl flattened the benumbed officer with one swipe of a pan-sized fist.
The aide was already on his feet and reaching for his sidearm when a narrow energy beam passed completely through him, piercing his heart. Solo flipped up the faceplate of his trooper helmet, then slid it back into place as he followed the Wookiee into the room. Kenobi and the droids squeezed in behind him, with Luke, also clad in the armor of a luckless Imperial soldier, bringing up the rear.
Luke was looking around nervously as he shut the door behind them. “Between his howling and your blasting everything in sight, it’s a wonder the entire station doesn’t know we’re here.”
“Bring ’em on,” Solo demanded, unreasonably enthused by their success so far. “I prefer a straight fight to all this sneaking around.”
“Maybe you’re in a hurry to die,” Luke snapped, “but I’m not. All this sneaking around has kept us alive.”
The Corellian gave Luke a sour eye but said nothing.
They watched as Kenobi operated an incredibly complex computer console with the ease and confidence of one long accustomed to handling intricate machinery. A screen lit up promptly with a map of sections of the battle station. The old man leaned forward, scrutinizing the display carefully.
Meanwhile, Threepio and Artoo had been going over an equally complicated control panel nearby. Artoo suddenly froze and began whistling wildly at something he had found. Solo and Luke, their momentary disagreement over tactics forgotten, rushed over to where the robots were standing. Chewbacca busied himself hanging the gantry officer up by his toes.
“Plug him in,” Kenobi suggested, looking over from his place before the larger readout. “He should be able to draw information from the entire station network. Let’s see if he can find out where the tractor-beam power unit is located.”
“Why not just disconnect the beam from here, sir?” Luke wanted to know.
It was Solo who replied derisively, “What, and have them lock it right back on us before we can get a ship’s length outside the docking bay?”
Luke looked crestfallen. “Oh. I hadn’t thought of that.”
“We have to break the tractor at its power source in order to execute a clean escape, Luke,” old Ben chided gently as Artoo punched a claw arm into the open computer socket he had discovered. Immediately a galaxy of lights came to life on the panel in front of him and the room was filled with the hum of machinery working at high speed.
Several minutes passed while the little droid sucked up information like a metal sponge. Then the hum slowed and he turned to beep something back at them.
“He’s found it, sir!” Threepio announced excitedly.
“The tractor beam is coupled to the main reactors at seven locations. Most of the pertinent data is restricted, but he’ll try to pull the critical information through to the monitor.”
Kenobi turned his attention from the larger scr
een to a small readout near Artoo. Data began to race across it too fast for Luke to see, but apparently Kenobi somehow made something of the schematic blur. “I don’t think there’s any way you boys can help with this,” he told them. “I must go alone.”
“That suits me fine,” said Solo readily. “I’ve already done more than I bargained for on this trip. But I think putting that tractor beam out of commission’s going to take more than your magic, old man.”
Luke wasn’t put off so easily. “I want to go with you.”
“Don’t be impatient, young Luke. This requires skills you haven’t yet mastered. Stay and watch over the droids and wait for my signal. They must be delivered to the rebel forces or many more worlds will meet the same fate as Alderaan. Trust in the force, Luke—and wait.”
With a last look at the flow of information on the monitor, Kenobi adjusted the lightsaber at his waist. Stepping to the door, he slid it aside, looked once left, once right, and disappeared down a long, glowing hallway.
As soon as he was gone Chewbacca growled and Solo nodded agreement. “You said it, Chewie!” He turned to Luke. “Where’d you dig up that old fossil?”
“Ben Kenobi—General Kenobi—is a great man,” Luke protested loftily.
“Great at getting us into trouble,” Solo snorted. “General, my afterburners! He’s not going to get us out of here.”
“You got any better ideas?” Luke shot back challengingly.
“Anything would be better than just waiting here for them to come and pick us up. If we—”
A hysterical whistling and hooting came from the computer console. Luke hurried over to Artoo Detoo. The little droid was all but hopping about on stubby legs.
“What now?” Luke asked Threepio.
The taller robot looked puzzled himself. “I’m afraid I don’t understand either, sir. He says, ‘I found her,’ and keeps repeating, ‘She’s here, she’s here!’ ”
“Who? Who has he found?”
Artoo turned a flat blinking face toward Luke and whistled frantically.
“Princess Leia,” Threepio announced after listening carefully. “Senator Organa—they seem to be one and the same. I believe she may be the person in the message he was carrying.”
That three-dimensional portrait of indescribable beauty coalesced in Luke’s mind again. “The Princess? She’s here?”
Attracted by the commotion, Solo wandered over. “Princess? What’s going on?”
“Where? Where is she?” Luke demanded breathlessly, ignoring Solo completely.
Artoo whistled on while Threepio translated. “Level five, detention block AA-23. According to the information, she is scheduled for slow termination.”
“No! We’ve got to do something.”
“What are you three blabbering about?” an exasperated Solo demanded.
“She’s the one who programmed the message into Artoo Detoo,” Luke explained hurriedly, “the one we were trying to deliver to Alderaan. We’ve got to help her.”
“Now, just a minute,” Solo cautioned him. “This is going awful fast for me. Don’t get any funny ideas. When I said I didn’t have any ‘better ideas’ I meant it. The old man said to wait here. I don’t like it, but I’m not going off on some crazy maze through this place.”
“But Ben didn’t know she was here,” Luke half pleaded, half argued. “I’m sure that if he knew he would have changed his plans.”
Anxiety turned to thoughtfulness. “Now, if we could just figure a way to get into that detention block.”
Solo shook his head and stepped back. “Huh-uh—I’m not going into any Imperial detention blocks.”
“If we don’t do something, they’re going to execute her. A minute ago you said you didn’t just want to sit here and wait to be captured. Now all you want to do is stay. Which is it, Han?”
The Corellian looked troubled—and confused. “Marching into a detention area’s not what I had in mind. We’re likely to end up there anyway—why rush it?”
“But they’re going to execute her!”
“Better her than me.”
“Where’s your sense of chivalry, Han?”
Solo considered. “Near as I can recall, I traded it for a ten-carat chrysopaz and three bottles of good brandy about five years ago on Commenor.”
“I’ve seen her,” Luke persisted desperately. “She’s beautiful.”
“So’s life.”
“She’s a rich and powerful Senator,” Luke pressed, hoping an appeal to Solo’s baser instincts might be more effective. “If we could save her, the reward could be substantial.”
“Uh... rich?” Then Solo looked disdainful. “Wait a minute... Reward, from whom? From the government on Alderaan?” He made a sweeping gesture toward the hangar and by implication the space where Alderaan had once orbited.
Luke thought furiously. “If she’s being held here and is scheduled to be executed, that means she must be dangerous in some way to whoever destroyed Alderaan, to whoever had this station built. You can bet it had something to do with the Empire instituting a reign of full repression.
“I’ll tell you who’ll pay for her rescue, and for the information she holds. The Senate, the rebel Alliance, and every concern that did business with Alderaan. She could be the sole surviving heir of the off-world wealth of the entire system! The reward could be more wealth than you can imagine.”
“I don’t know... I can imagine quite a bit.” He glanced at Chewbacca, who grunted a terse reply. Solo shrugged back at the big Wookiee. “All right, we’ll give it a try. But you’d better be right about that reward. What’s your plan, kid?”
Luke was momentarily taken aback. All his energies up till now had been concentrated on persuading Solo and Chewbacca to aid in a rescue attempt. That accomplished, Luke became aware he had no idea how to proceed. He had grown used to old Ben and Solo giving directions. Now the next move was up to him.
His eyes were caught by several metal circlets dangling from the belt of Solo’s armor. “Give me those binders and tell Chewbacca to come over here.”
Solo handed Luke the thin but quite unbreakable cuffs and relayed the request to Chewbacca. The Wookiee lumbered over and stood waiting next to Luke.
“Now, I’m going to put these on you,” Luke began, starting to move behind the Wookiee with the cuffs, “and—”
Chewbacca made a sound low in his throat, and Luke jumped in spite of himself. “Now,” he began again, “Han is going to put these on you and...” He sheepishly handed the binders to Solo, uncomfortably aware of the enormous anthropoid’s glowing eyes on him.
Solo sounded amused as he moved forward. “Don’t worry, Chewie. I think I know what he has in mind.”
The cuffs barely fit around the thick wrists. Despite his partner’s seeming confidence in the plan, the Wookiee wore a worried, frightened look as the restraints were activated.
“Luke, sir.” Luke looked over at Threepio. “Pardon me for asking, but, ah—what should Artoo and I do if someone discovers us here in your absence?”
“Hope they don’t have blasters,” Solo replied.
Threepio’s tone indicated he didn’t find the answer humorous. “That isn’t very reassuring.”
Solo and Luke were too engrossed in their coming expedition to pay much attention to the worried robot. They adjusted their helmets. Then, with Chewbacca wearing a half-real downcast expression, they started off along the corridor where Ben Kenobi had disappeared.
= IX =
AS they traveled farther and deeper into the bowels of the gigantic station, they found it increasingly difficult to maintain an air of casual indifference. Fortunately, those who might have sensed some nervousness on the part of the two armored troopers would regard it as only natural, considering their huge, dangerous Wookiee captive. Chewbacca also made it impossible for the two young men to be as inconspicuous as they would have liked.
The farther they traveled, the heavier the traffic became. Other soldiers, bureaucrats, technicians,
and mechanicals bustled around them. Intent on their own assignments, they ignored the trio completely, only a few of the humans sparing the Wookiee a curious glance. Chewbacca’s morose expression and the seeming confidence of his captors reassured the inquisitive.
Eventually they reached a wide bank of elevators. Luke breathed a sigh of relief. The computer-controlled transport ought to be capable of taking them just about anywhere on the station in response to a verbal command.
There was a nervous second when a minor official raced to get aboard. Solo gestured sharply, and the other, without voicing a protest, shifted to the next elevator tube in line.
Luke studied the operating panel, then tried to sound at once knowledgeable and important as he spoke into the pickup grid.
Instead, he sounded nervous and scared, but the elevator was a pure-response mechanism, not programmed to differentiate the appropriateness of emotions conveyed vocally. So the door slid shut and they were on their way. After what felt like hours but was in reality only minutes, the door opened and they stepped out into the security area.
It had been Luke’s hope they would discover something like the old-fashioned barred cells of the kind used on Tatooine in towns like Mos Eisley. Instead, they saw only narrow ramps bordering a bottomless ventilation shaft. These walkways, several levels of them, ran parallel to smooth curving walls which held faceless detention cells. Alert-looking guards and energy gates seemed to be everywhere they looked.
Uncomfortably aware that the longer they stood frozen in place, the sooner someone was bound to come over and ask unanswerable questions, Luke searched frantically for a course of action.
“This isn’t going to work,” Solo whispered, leaning toward him.
“Why didn’t you say so before?” a frustrated, frightened Luke shot back.
“I think I did. I—”
“Shssh!”
Solo shut up as Luke’s worst fears were realized. A tall, grim-looking officer approached them. He frowned as he examined the silent Chewbacca.
“Where are you two going with this—thing?”
Chewbacca snarled at the remark, and Solo quieted him with a hasty jab in the ribs. A panicky Luke found himself replying almost instinctively. “Prisoner transfer from block TS-138.”
