Trilogy (42 page)

Embarrassed to realize that she was, indeed, still standing rather close, Leia stepped aside and made an effort to change the subject. “Don't you think it's time we got to work on your ship?”

Han frowned. “Fine with me,” he said coldly, not looking at her.

Leia quickly turned on her heel and left the cockpit.

For a moment Han stood there quietly, just gathering his composure. Sheepishly he looked at the now quiet Wookiee and droid, both of whom had witnessed the entire incident.

“Come on, Chewie, let's tear into this flying short circuit,” he said quickly to end the awkward moment.

The copilot barked in agreement, then joined his captain as they began to leave the cockpit. As they walked out, Han looked back at Threepio, who was still standing in the dim chamber looking dumbfounded. “You too, goldenrod!”

“I must admit,” the robot muttered to himself as he began to shuffle out of the cockpit, “there are times I don't understand human behavior.”

T
he lights of Luke Skywalker's X-wing fighter pierced the darkness of the bog planet. The ship had sunk deeper into the scummy waters, but there was still enough of it above
the surface to let Luke carry needed supplies from the storage compartments. He knew it could not be much longer before his ship sank deeper—possibly all the way—beneath the water. He thought that his chance of survival might be increased if he gathered as many supplies as he could.

It was now so dark that Luke could scarcely see in front of him. Out in the dense jungle he heard a sharp snapping noise and felt a chill run through him. Grabbing his pistol, he prepared to blast anything that leaped from the jungle to attack him. But nothing did, and he clipped his weapon back onto its holster and continued to unpack his gear.

“You ready for some power?” Luke asked Artoo, who was patiently waiting for his own form of nourishment. Luke took a small fusion furnace from an equipment box and ignited it, welcoming even the tiny glow thrown off by the small heating device, then took a power cable and attached it to Artoo through a protuberance that roughly resembled a nose. As power radiated through Artoo's electronic innards, the stout robot whistled his appreciation.

Luke sat down and opened a container of processed food. As he began to eat, he talked to the robot. “Now all I have to do is find this Yoda, if he even exists.”

He looked around nervously at the shadows in the jungle and felt frightened, miserable, and increasingly in doubt about his quest. “This certainly seems like a strange place to find a Jedi Master,” he said to the little robot. “Gives me the creeps.”

From the sound of his beep, it was clear Artoo shared Luke's opinion of the swamp world.

“Although,” Luke continued as he reluctantly tasted
more of the food, “there's something familiar about this place. I feel like—”

“You feel like what?”

That wasn't Artoo's voice! Luke leaped up, grabbed his pistol, then spun around, peering into the gloom to try to find the source of those words.

As he turned he saw a tiny creature standing directly in front of him. Luke immediately stepped back in surprise; this little being seemed to have materialized out of nowhere! It stood no more than half a meter in height, fearlessly holding its ground in front of the towering youth who wielded an awesome laser pistol.

The little wizened thing could have been any age. Its face was deeply lined, but was framed with elfin, pointed ears that gave it a look of eternal youth. Long white hair was parted down the middle and hung down on either side of the blue-skinned head. The being was bipedal, and stood on short legs that terminated in tridactyl, almost reptilian feet. It wore rags as gray as the mists of the swamp, and in such tatters that they must have approximated the creature's very age.

For the moment, Luke could not decide whether to be frightened or to laugh. But when he gazed into those bulbous eyes and sensed the being's kindly nature, he relaxed. At last the creature motioned toward the pistol in Luke's hand.

“Away put your weapon. I mean you no harm,” it said.

After some hesitation, Luke quietly put his pistol back into his belt. As he did so, he wondered why he felt impelled to obey this little creature.

“I am wondering,” the creature spoke again, “why are you here?”

“I'm looking for someone,” Luke answered.

“Looking? Looking?” the creature repeated curiously with a wide smile beginning to crease his already-lined face. “You've found someone I'd say. Heh? Yes!”

Luke had to force himself not to smile. “Yeah.”

“Help you I can … yes … yes.”

Inexplicably Luke found himself trusting the odd creature, but wasn't at all sure that such a tiny individual could be of help on his important quest. “I don't think so,” he replied gently. “You see, I'm looking for a great warrior.”

“A
great
warrior?” The creature shook his head, the whitish hair flopping about his pointed ears. “Wars don't make one great.”

A strange phrase, Luke thought. But before he could answer, Luke saw the tiny hominid hobble over to the top of the salvaged supply cases. Shocked, he watched as the creature began to rummage through the articles Luke had brought with him from Hoth.

“Get away from there,” he said, surprised at this sudden strange behavior.

Moving across the ground, Artoo waddled toward the pile of cases, standing just about at optical sensor level with the creature. The droid squealed his disapproval as he scanned the creature that was carelessly digging through the supplies.

The strange being grabbed the container holding the remains of Luke's food and took a bite.

“Hey, that's my dinner!” Luke exclaimed.

But no sooner had the creature taken his first bite than he spat out what he had tasted, his deeply lined face wrinkling like a prune. “
Peewh!
” he said, spitting. “Thank you, no. How get you so big eating food of this kind?” He looked Luke up and down.

Before the astounded youth could reply, the creature flipped the food container in Luke's direction, then dipped one of his small and delicate hands into another supply case.

“Listen, friend,” Luke said, watching this bizarre scavenger, “we didn't mean to land here. And if I could get my fighter out of this puddle I would, but I can't. So—”

“Can't get your ship out? Have you tried? Have you tried?” the creature goaded.

Luke had to admit to himself that he had not, but then the whole idea was patently ludicrous. He didn't have the proper equipment to—

Something in Luke's case had attracted the creature's interest. Luke finally reached the end of his patience when he saw the crazy little being snatch something out of the supply case. Knowing that survival depended on those supplies, he grabbed for the case. But the creature held on to his prize—a miniature power lamp that he gripped tightly in his blue-skinned hand. The little light came alive in the creature's hand, throwing its radiance up into his delighted face, and he immediately began to examine his treasure.

“Give me that!” Luke cried.

The creature retreated from the approaching youth like a petulant child. “Mine! Mine! Or I'll help you not.”

Still clutching the lamp to his breast, the creature stepped backward, inadvertently bumping into Artoo-Detoo. Not remembering that the robot was at all animate, the being stood next to it as Luke approached.

“I don't want your help,” Luke said indignantly. “I want my lamp back. I'll need it in this slimy mudhole.”

Luke instantly realized he had issued an insult.

“Mudhole? Slimy? My home this is!”

As they argued, Artoo slowly reached out a mechanical arm. Suddenly his appendage grabbed the pilfered lamp and immediately the two little figures were engaged in a tug-of-war over the stolen prize. As they spun about in battle, Artoo beeped a few electronic, “give me that's.”

“Mine, mine. Give it back,” the creature cried. Abruptly, though, he seemed to give up the bizarre struggle and lightly poked the droid with one bluish finger.

Artoo emitted a loud, startled squeal and immediately released the power lamp.

The victor grinned at the glowing object in his tiny hands, gleefully repeating, “Mine, mine.”

Luke was about fed up with these antics and advised the robot that the battle was over. “Okay, Artoo,” he said with a sigh, “let him have it. Now get out of here, little fellow. We've got things to do.”

“No, no!” the creature pleaded excitedly. “I'll stay and help you find your friend.”

“I'm not looking for a friend,” Luke said. “I'm looking for a Jedi Master.”

“Oh,” the creature's eyes widened as he spoke, “a Jedi Master. Different altogether.
Yoda
, you seek, Yoda.”

Mention of that name surprised Luke, but he felt skeptical. How could an elf like this know anything about a great teacher of the Jedi Knights? “You know him?”

“Of course, yes,” the creature said proudly. “I'll take you to him. But first we must eat. Good food. Come, come.”

With that, the creature scurried out of Luke's camp and into the shadows of the swamp. The tiny power lamp he carried was gradually dimming in the distance as Luke stood feeling baffled. At first he had no intention of pursuing
the creature, but all at once he found himself diving into the fog after him.

As Luke started off into the jungle, he heard Artoo whistling and beeping as if he would blow his circuits. Luke turned around to see the little droid standing forlornly next to the miniature fission furnace.

“You'd better stay here and watch over the camp,” Luke instructed the robot.

But Artoo only intensified his noisy output, running through the entire gamut of his electronic articulations.

“Artoo, now settle down,” Luke called as he ran into the jungle. “I can take care of myself. I'll be safe, okay?”

Artoo's electronic grumblings grew fainter as Luke hurried to catch up with the little guide. I must really be out of my mind, Luke thought, following this weird being into who-knows-what. But the creature
had
mentioned Yoda's name, and Luke felt compelled to accept any help he could get to find the Jedi Master. He stumbled in the dark over thick weeds and twisting roots as he pursued the flickering light ahead.

The creature was chattering gaily as he led the way through the swamp. “Heh … safe … heh … quite safe … yes, of course.” Then, in his odd little way, this mysterious being started to laugh.

T
wo Imperial cruisers slowly moved across the surface of the great asteroid. The
Millennium Falcon
had to be hidden somewhere within—but where?

As the ships skimmed the surface of the asteroid, they dropped bombs on its pock-marked terrain, trying to scare out the freighter. The shock waves from the explosives
violently shook the spheroid, but still there was no sign of the
Falcon
. As it drifted above the asteroid, one of the Imperial Star Destroyers cast an eclipsing shadow across the tunnel entrance. Yet the ship's scanners failed to note the curious hole in the bowllike wall. Within that hole, in a winding tunnel not detected by the minions of the powerful Empire, sat the freighter. It rattled and vibrated with every explosion that pounded the surface above.

Inside, Chewbacca worked feverishly to repair the complex powertrain. He had scrambled into an overhead compartment to get at the wires that operated the hyperdrive system. But when he felt the first of the explosions, he popped his head out through the mass of wires and gave out a worried yelp.

Princess Leia, who was welding a damaged valve, stopped her work and looked up. The bombs sounded very close.

See-Threepio glanced up at Leia and nervously tilted his head. “Oh, my,” he said, “they've found us.”

Everyone became quiet, as if fearing that the sound of their voices might somehow carry and betray their exact position. Again the ship was shaken by a blast, less intense than the last.

“They're moving away,” Leia said.

Han saw through their tactic. “They're just trying to see if they can stir up something,” he told her. “We're safe if we stay put.”

“Where have I heard that line before?” Leia said with an innocent air.

Ignoring her sarcasm, Han moved past her as he went back to work. The passageway in the hold was so narrow
that he couldn't avoid brushing against her as he passed by—or could he?

With mixed emotions the princess watched him for a moment as he continued to work on his ship. And then she turned back to her welding.

See-Threepio ignored all this odd human behavior. He was too busy trying to communicate with the
Falcon
, trying to find out what was wrong with its hyperdrive. Standing at the central control panel, Threepio was making uncharacteristic whistle and beep sounds. A moment later, the control panel whistled back.

“Where is Artoo when I need him?” sighed the golden robot. The control panel's response had been difficult for him to interpret. “I don't know where your ship learned to communicate,” Threepio announced to Han, “but its dialect leaves something to be desired. I believe, sir, it says the power coupling on the negative axis has been polarized. I'm afraid you'll have to replace it.”

“Of course I'll have to replace it,” Han snapped, then called up to Chewbacca, who was peering from the ceiling compartment. “Replace it!” he whispered.

He noticed that Leia had finished her welding but was having trouble reengaging the valve, struggling with a lever that simply would not budge. He moved toward her and began offering to help, but she coldly turned her back to him and continued her battle with the valve.

“Easy, Your Worship,” he said. “Only trying to help.”

Still struggling with the lever, Leia asked quietly, “Would you please stop calling me that?”