Trilogy (35 page)

The only reply that came through his comlink receiver was static.

But then he heard a voice, a very distant-sounding voice, fighting its way through the crackling noise. “Nice of you guys to drop by. Hope we didn't get you up too early.”

Zev welcomed the characteristic cynicism in Han Solo's voice. He switched his transmitter back to the hidden Rebel base. “Echo Base, this is Rogue Two,” he reported, his voice suddenly rising in pitch. “I found them. Repeat …”

As he spoke, the pilot pulled in a fine-tune fix on the signals winking on his cockpit monitor screens. Then he further reduced the speed of his craft, bringing it down close enough to the planet's surface so that he could better see a small object standing out against the fleecy plains.

The object, a portable Rebel-issue shelter, sat atop a snowdrift. On the shelter's windward side was a hardpacked
layer of white. And resting gingerly against the upper part of the snowdrift was a makeshift radio antenna.

But a more welcome sight than any of this was the familiar human figure standing in front of the snow shelter, frantically waving his arms at the snowspeeder.

As Zev dipped his craft for a landing, he felt overwhelmingly grateful that at least one of the warriors he had been sent out to find was still alive.

O
nly a thick glass window separated the battered, near-frozen body of Luke Skywalker from five of his watchful friends.

Han Solo, who appreciated the relative warmth of the Rebel medical center, was standing beside Leia, his Wookiee copilot, Artoo-Detoo, and See-Threepio. Han exhaled with relief. He knew that, despite the grim atmosphere of the chamber enclosing him, the young commander was finally out of danger and in the best of mechanical hands.

Clad only in white shorts, Luke hung in a vertical position inside a transparent cylinder with a combination breath mask and microphone covering his nose and mouth. The surgeon droid, Too-Onebee, was attending to the youth with the skill of the finest humanoid doctors. He was aided by his medical assistant droid, FX-7, which looked like nothing more than a metal-capped set of cylinders, wires, and appendages. Gracefully, the surgeon droid worked a switch that brought a gelatinous red fluid pouring down over his human patient. This bacta, Han knew, could work miracles, even with patients in such dire shape as Luke.

As the bubbling slime encapsulated his body, Luke began to thrash about and rave deliriously. “Watch out,” he moaned. “…  snow creatures. Dangerous … Yoda … go to Yoda … only hope.”

Han had not the slightest idea what his friend was raving about. Chewbacca, also perplexed by the youth's babbling, expressed himself with an interrogative Wookiee bark.

“He doesn't make sense to me either, Chewie,” Han replied.

Threepio commented hopefully, “I do hope he's all there, if you take my meaning. It would be most unfortunate if Master Luke were to develop a short circuit.”

“The kid ran into something,” Han observed matter-of-factly, “and it wasn't just the cold.”

“It's those creatures he keeps talking about,” Leia said, looking at the grimly staring Solo. “We've doubled the security, Han,” she began, tentatively trying to thank him, “I don't know how—”

“Forget it,” he said brusquely. Right now he was concerned only with his friend in the red bacta fluid.

Luke's body sloshed through the brightly colored substance, the bacta's healing properties by now taking effect. For a while it appeared as if Luke were trying to resist the curative flow of the translucent muck. Then, at last, he gave up his mumbling and relaxed, succumbing to the bacta's powers.

Too-Onebee turned away from the human who had been entrusted to his care. He angled his skull-shaped head to gaze at Han and the others through the window. “Commander Skywalker has been in dormo-shock but is responding well to the bacta,” the robot announced, his
commanding, authoritative voice heard distinctly through the glass. “He is now out of danger.”

The surgeon robot's words immediately wiped away the tension that had seized the group on the other side of the window. Leia sighed in relief, and Chewbacca grunted his approval of Too-Onebee's treatment.

Luke had no way of estimating how long he had been delirious. But now he was in full command of his mind and senses. He sat up on his bed in the Rebel medical center. What a relief, he thought, to be breathing real air again, however cold it might be.

A medical droid was removing the protective pad from his healing face. His eyes were uncovered and he was beginning to perceive the face of someone standing by his bed. Gradually the smiling image of Princess Leia came into focus. She gracefully moved toward him and gently brushed his hair out of his eyes.

“The bacta are growing well,” she said as she looked at his healing wounds. “The scars should be gone in a day or so. Does it still hurt you?”

Across the room, the door banged open. Artoo beeped a cheerful greeting as he rolled toward Luke, and Threepio clanked noisily toward Luke's bed. “Master Luke, it's good to see you functional again.”

“Thanks, Threepio.”

Artoo emitted a series of happy beeps and whistles.

“Artoo expresses his relief also,” Threepio translated helpfully.

Luke was certainly grateful for the robots' concern. But before he could reply to either of the droids, he met with yet another interruption.

“Hi, kid,” Han Solo greeted him boisterously as he and Chewbacca burst into the medical center.

The Wookiee growled a friendly greeting.

“You look strong enough to wrestle a Gundark,” Han observed.

Luke felt that strong, and felt grateful to his friend. “Thanks to you.”

“That's two you owe me, junior.” Han gave the princess a wide, devilish grin. “Well, Your Worship,” he said mockingly, “it looks like you arranged to keep me close by for a while longer.”

“I had nothing to do with it,” Leia said hotly, annoyed at Han's vanity. “General Rieekan thinks it's dangerous for any ships to leave the system until the generators are operational.”

“That makes a good story. But
I
think you just can't bear to let me out of your sight.”

“I don't know where you get your delusions, laser brains,” she retorted.

Chewbacca, amused by this verbal battle between two of the strongest human wills he had ever encountered, let out a roaring Wookiee laugh.

“Laugh it up, fuzz ball,” Han said goodnaturedly. “You didn't see us alone in the south passage.”

Until now, Luke had scarcely listened to this lively exchange. Han and the princess had argued frequently enough in the past. But that reference to the south passage sparked his curiosity, and he looked at Leia for an explanation.

“She expressed her true feeling for me,” Han continued, delighting in the rosy flush that appeared on the princess's cheeks. “Come on, Your Highness, you've already forgotten?”

“Why, you low-down, stuck-up, half-witted, scruffy-looking nerf-herder …” she sputtered in fury.

“Who's scruffy-looking?” he grinned. “I tell ya, sweetheart, I must've hit pretty close to the mark to get you hoppin' like this. Doesn't it look that way to you, Luke?”

“Yeah,” he said, staring at the princess incredulously, “it does … kind of.”

Leia looked over at Luke with a strange mixture of emotions showing on her flushed face. Something vulnerable, almost childlike, was reflected in her eyes for a moment. And then the tough mask fell again.

“Oh, it does, does it?” she said. “Well, I guess you don't understand everything about women, do you?”

Luke agreed silently. He agreed even more when in the next moment Leia leaned over and kissed him firmly on the lips. Then she turned on her heel and marched across the room, slamming the door behind her. Everyone in the room—human, Wookiee, and droid—looked at one another, speechless.

In the distance, a warning alarm blared through the subterranean corridors.

G
eneral Rieekan and his head controller were conferring in the Rebel command center when Han Solo and Chewbacca burst into the room. Princess Leia and Threepio, who had been listening to the general and his officer, turned in anticipation at their approach.

A warning signal blared across the chamber from the huge console located behind Rieekan and monitored by Rebel control officers.

“General,” the sensor controller called.

Grimly attentive, General Rieekan watched the console screens. Suddenly he saw a flashing signal that had not
been there a moment before. “Princess,” he said, “I think we have a visitor.”

Leia, Han, Chewbacca, and Threepio gathered around the general and watched the beeping monitor screens.

“We've picked up something outside the base in Zone Twelve. It's moving east,” said Rieekan.

“Whatever it is, it's metal,” the sensor controller observed.

Leia's eyes widened in surprise. “Then it can't be one of those creatures that attacked Luke?”

“Could it be ours?” Han asked. “A speeder?”

The sensor controller shook his head. “No, there's no signal.” Then came a sound from another monitor. “Wait, something very weak …”

Walking as rapidly as his stiff joints allowed, Threepio approached the console. His auditory sensors tuned in the strange signals. “I must say, sir, I'm fluent in over sixty million forms of communication, but this is something new. Must be in a code or—”

Just then the voice of a Rebel trooper cut in through the console's comlink speaker. “This is Echo Station Three-Eight. Unidentified object is in our scope. It's just over the ridge. We should have visual contact in about—” Without warning the voice filled with fear. “What the—? Oh, no!”

A burst of radio static followed, then the transmission broke off completely.

Han frowned. “Whatever it is,” he said, “it isn't friendly. Let's have a look. Come on, Chewie.”

Even before Han and Chewbacca were out of the chamber, General Rieekan had dispatched Rogues Ten and Eleven to Station Three-Eight.

* * *

T
he mammoth Imperial Star Destroyer occupied a position of deadly prominence in the Emperor's fleet. The sleekly elongated ship was larger and even more ominous than the five wedge-shaped Imperial Star Destroyers guarding it. Together these six cruisers were the most dreaded and devastating warships in the galaxy, capable of reducing to cosmic scrap anything that strayed too close to their weapons.

Flanking the Star Destroyers were a number of smaller fighter ships and, darting about this great space armada, were the infamous TIE fighters.

Supreme confidence reigned in the heart of every crew member in this Imperial death squadron, especially among the personnel on the monstrous central Star Destroyer. But something also blazed within their souls. Fear—fear of merely the sound of the familiar heavy footsteps as they echoed through the enormous ship. Crew members dreaded these footfalls and shuddered whenever they were heard approaching, bringing their much feared, but much respected leader.

Towering above them in his black cloak and concealing black headgear, Darth Vader, Dark Lord of the Sith, entered the main control deck, and the men around him fell silent. In what seemed to be an endless moment, no sounds except those from the ship's control boards and the loud wheezes coming from the ebony figure's metal breath screen were to be heard.

As Darth Vader watched the endless array of stars, Captain Piett rushed across the wide bridge of the ship, carrying a message for the squat, evil-looking Admiral
Ozzel, who was stationed on the bridge. “I think we've found something, Admiral,” he announced nervously, looking from Ozzel to the Dark Lord.

“Yes, Captain?” The admiral was a supremely confident man who felt relaxed in the presence of his cloaked superior.

“The report we have is only a fragment, from a probe droid in the Hoth system. But it's the best lead we've had in—”

“We have had thousands of probe droids searching the galaxy,” Ozzel broke in angrily. “I want proof, not leads. I don't intend to continue to chase around from one side of—”

Abruptly the figure in black approached the two and interrupted. “You found something?” he asked, his voice somewhat distorted by the breath mask.

Captain Piett respectfully gazed at his master, who loomed above him like a black-robed, omnipotent god. “Yes, sir,” Piett said slowly, choosing his words with caution. “We have visuals. The system is supposed to be devoid of human forms …”

But Vader was no longer listening to the captain. His masked face turned toward an image beamed on one of the viewscreens—an image of a small squadron of Rebel snowspeeders streaking above the white fields.

“That's it,” Darth Vader boomed without further deliberation.

“My lord,” Admiral Ozzel protested, “there are so many uncharted settlements. It could be smugglers—”

“That is the one!” the former Jedi Knight insisted, clenching a black-gloved fist. “And Skywalker is with them. Bring in the patrol ships, Admiral, and set your course for the Hoth system.” Vader looked toward an officer
wearing a green uniform with matching cap. “General Veers,” the Dark Lord addressed him, “prepare your men.”

As soon as Darth Vader had spoken, his men set about launching his fearful plan.

The Imperial Probe Droid raised a large antenna from its buglike head and sent out a piercing, high-frequency signal. The robot's scanners had reacted to a lifeform hidden behind a great dune of snow and noted the appearance of a brown Wookiee head and the sound of a deep-throated growl. The blasters that had been built into the probe robot took aim at the furry giant. But before the robot had a chance to fire, a red beam from a hand blaster exploded from behind the Imperial Probe Droid and nicked its darkly finished hull.