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Authors: George Lucas

Trilogy (32 page)

BOOK: Trilogy
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The dark probe droid soon vanished over the distant horizon.

* * *

A
nother rider, bundled in winter clothing and mounted on a spotted gray Tauntaun, raced across the slopes of Hoth toward the Rebel base of operations.

The man's eyes, like points of cold metal, glanced without interest at the domes of dull gray, the myriad gun turrets and the colossal power generators that were the only indications of civilized life on this world. Han Solo gradually slowed his snow-lizard, guiding the reins so the creature trotted through the entrance of the enormous ice cave.

Han welcomed the relative warmth of the vast complex of caverns, warmed by Rebel heating units that obtained their power from the huge generators outside. This subterranean base was both a natural ice cave and a maze of angular tunnels blasted from a solid mountain of ice by Rebel lasers. The Corellian had been in more desolate hell-holes in the galaxy, but for the moment he couldn't remember the exact location of any one of them.

He dismounted his Tauntaun, then glanced around to watch the activity taking place inside the mammoth cave. Wherever he looked he saw things being carried, assembled, or repaired. Rebels in gray uniforms rushed to unload supplies and adjust equipment. And there were robots, mostly R2 units and power droids, that seemed to be everywhere, rolling or walking through the ice corridors, efficiently performing their innumerable tasks.

Han was beginning to wonder if he were mellowing with age. At first he had had no personal interest in or loyalty to this whole Rebel affair. His ultimate involvement in the conflict between Empire and Rebel Alliance began as a mere business transaction, selling his services and the use of his ship, the
Millennium Falcon
. The job had seemed simple enough: Just pilot Ben Kenobi, plus
young Luke and two droids, to the Alderaan system. How could Han have known at the time that he would also be called on to rescue a princess from the Empire's most feared battle station, the Death Star?

Princess Leia Organa …

The more Solo thought about her, the more he realized how much trouble he eventually bought himself by accepting Ben Kenobi's money. All Han had wanted originally was to collect his fee and rocket off to pay back some bad debts that hung over his head like a meteor ready to fall. Never had he intended to become a hero.

And yet, something had kept him around to join Luke and his crazy Rebel friends as they launched the now-legendary space attack on the Death Star. Something. For the present, Han couldn't decide just what that something was.

Now, long after the Death Star's destruction, Han was still with the Rebel Alliance, lending his assistance to establish this base on Hoth, probably the bleakest of all planets in the galaxy. But all that was about to change, he told himself. As far as he was concerned, Han Solo and the Rebels were about to blast off on divergent courses.

He walked rapidly through the underground hangar deck where several Rebel fighter ships were docked and being serviced by men in gray assisted by droids of various designs. Of greatest concern to Han was the saucer-shaped freighter ship resting on its newly installed landing pods. This, the largest ship in the hangar, had garnered a few new dents in its metal hull since Han first hooked up with Sky walker and Kenobi. Yet the
Millennium Falcon
was famous not for its outward appearance but for its speed: This freighter was still the fastest ship ever to make the Kessel Run or to outrun an Imperial TIE fighter.

Much of the
Falcon'
s success could be attributed to its maintenance, now entrusted to the shaggy hands of a two-meter-tall mountain of brown hair, whose face was at the moment hidden behind a welder's mask.

Chewbacca, Han Solo's giant Wookiee copilot, was repairing the
Millennium Falcon'
s central lifter when he noticed Solo approaching. The Wookiee stopped his work and raised his face shield, exposing his furry countenance. A growl that few non-Wookiees in the universe could translate roared from his toothy mouth.

Han Solo was one of those few. “
Cold
isn't the word for it, Chewie,” the Corellian replied. “I'll take a good fight any day over all this hiding and freezing!” He noticed the smoky wisps rising from the newly welded section of metal. “How are you coming with those lifters?”

Chewbacca replied with a typical Wookiee grumble.

“All right,” Han said, fully agreeing with his friend's desire to return to space, to some other planet—anywhere but Hoth. “I'll go report. Then I'll give you a hand. Soon as those lifters are fixed, we're out of here.”

The Wookiee barked, a joyful chuckle, and returned to his work as Han continued through the artificial ice cavern.

The command center was alive with electronic equipment and monitoring devices reaching toward the icy ceiling. As in the hangar, Rebel personnel filled the command center. The room was full of controllers, troopers, maintenance men—along with droids of varying models and sizes, all of whom were diligently involved in converting the chamber into a workable base to replace the one on Yavin.

The man Han Solo had come to see was busily engaged behind a great console, his attention riveted to a computer
screen flashing brilliantly colored readouts. Rieekan, wearing the uniform of a Rebel general, straightened his tall frame to face Solo as he approached.

“General, there isn't a hint of life in the area,” Han reported. “But all the perimeter markings are set, so you'll know if anyone comes calling.”

As usual, General Rieekan did not smile at Solo's flippancy. But he admired the young man's taking a kind of unofficial membership in the Rebellion. So impressed was Rieekan by Solo's qualities that he often considered giving him an honorary officer's commission.

“Has Commander Skywalker reported in yet?” the general inquired.

“He's checking out a meteorite that hit near him,” Han answered. “He'll be in soon.”

Rieekan quickly glanced at a newly installed radar screen and studied the flashing images. “With all the meteor activity in this system, it's going to be difficult to spot approaching ships.”

“General, I …” Han hesitated. “I think it's time for me to move on.”

Han's attention was drawn from General Rieekan to a steadily approaching figure. Her walk was both graceful and determined, and somehow the young woman's feminine features seemed incongruous with her white combat uniform. Even at this distance, Han could tell Princess Leia was upset.

“You're good in a fight,” the general remarked to Han, adding, “I hate to lose you.”

“Thank you, General. But there's a price on my head. If I don't pay off Jabba the Hut, I'm a walking dead man.”

“A death mark is not an easy thing to live with—” the
officer began as Han turned to Princess Leia. Solo was not a sentimental sort, but he was aware that he was very emotional now. “I guess this is it, Your Highness.” He paused, not knowing what response to expect from the princess.

“That's right,” Leia replied coldly. Her sudden aloofness was quickly evolving into genuine anger.

Han shook his head. Long ago he had told himself that females—mammalian, reptilian, or some biological class yet to be discovered—were beyond his meager powers of comprehension. Better leave them to mystery, he'd often advised himself.

But for a while, at least, Han had begun to believe that there was at least one female in all the cosmos that he
was
beginning to understand. And yet, he had been wrong before.

“Well,” Han said, “don't go all mushy on me. So long, Princess.”

Abruptly turning his back to her, Han strode into the quiet corridor that connected with the command center. His destination was the hangar deck, where a giant Wookiee and a smuggler's freighter—two realities he did understand—were waiting for him. He was not about to stop walking.

“Han!” Leia was rushing after him, slightly out of breath.

Coolly, he stopped and turned toward her. “Yes, Your Highness?”

“I thought you had decided to stay.”

There seemed to be real concern in Leia's voice, but Han could not be certain.

“That bounty hunter we ran into on Ord Mantell changed my mind.”

“Does Luke know?” she asked.

“He'll know when he gets back,” Han replied gruffly.

Princess Leia's eyes narrowed, her gaze judging him with a look he knew well. For a moment Han felt like one of the icicles on the surface of the planet.

“Don't give me that look,” he said sternly. “Every day more bounty hunters are searching for me. I'm going to pay off Jabba before he sends any more of his remotes, Gank killers, and who knows what else. I've got to get this price off my head while I still
have
a head.”

Leia was obviously affected by his words, and Han could see that she was concerned for him as well as, perhaps, feeling something more.

“But we still need you,” she said.

“We?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“What about
you
?” Han was careful to emphasize the last word, but really wasn't certain why. Maybe it was something he had for some time wanted to say but had lacked the courage—no, he amended, the
stupidity
—to expose his feelings. At the moment there seemed to be little to lose, and he was ready for whatever she might say.

“Me?” she said bluntly. “I don't know what you mean.”

Incredulous, Han Solo shook his head. “No, you probably don't.”

“And what precisely
am
I supposed to know?” Anger was growing in her voice again, probably because, Han thought, she was finally beginning to understand.

He smiled. “You want me to stay because of the way you feel about me.”

Again the princess mellowed. “Well, yes, you've been a
great help,” she said, pausing before going on, “…  to us. You're a natural leader—”

But Han refused to let her finish, cutting her off in midsentence. “No, Your Worship. That's not it.”

Suddenly Leia was staring directly into Han's face, with eyes that were, at last, fully understanding. She started to laugh. “You're imagining things.”

“Am I? I think you were afraid I was going to leave you without even a …” Han's eyes focused on her lips, “…  kiss.”

She began to laugh harder now. “I'd just as soon kiss a Wookiee.”

“I can arrange that.” He moved closer to her, and she looked radiant even in the cold light of the ice chamber. “Believe me, you could use a good kiss. You've been so busy giving orders, you've forgotten how to be a woman. If you'd have let go for a moment, I could have helped you. But it's too late now, sweetheart. Your big opportunity is flying out of here.”

“I think I can survive,” she said, obviously irked.

“Good luck!”

“You don't even care if the—”

He knew what she was going to say and didn't let her finish. “Spare me, please!” he interrupted. “Don't tell me about the Rebellion again. It's all you think about. You're as cold as this planet.”

“And you think you're the one to apply some heat?”

“Sure, if I were interested. But I don't think it'd be much fun.” With that, Han stepped back and looked at her again, appraising her coolly. “We'll meet again,” he said. “Maybe by then you'll have warmed up a little.”
Her expression had changed again. Han had seen killers with kinder eyes.

“You have all the breeding of a Bantha,” she snarled, “but not as much class. Enjoy your trip, hot shot!” Princess Leia quickly turned away from Han and hurried down the corridor.

II

T
HE TEMPERATURE ON THE SURFACE
of Hoth had dropped. But despite the frigid air, the Imperial Probe Droid continued its leisurely drift above the snow-swept fields and hills, its extended sensors still reaching in all directions for life signs.

The robot's heat sensors suddenly reacted. It had found a heat source in the vicinity, and warmth was a good indication of life. The head swiveled on its axis, the sensitive eyelike blisters noting the direction from which the heat source originated. Automatically the probe robot adjusted its speed and began to move at maximum velocity over the icy fields.

The insectlike machine slowed only when it neared a mound of snow bigger than the probe droid itself. The robot's scanners made note of the mound's size—nearly one-point-eight meters in height and an enormous six meters long. But the mound's size was of only secondary importance. What was truly astounding, if a surveillance
machine could ever be astounded, was the amount of heat radiating from beneath the mound. The creature under that snowy hill must surely be well protected against the cold.

A thin blue-white beam of light shot from one of the probe robot's appendages, its intense heat boring into the white mound and scattering gleaming snow flecks in all directions.

BOOK: Trilogy
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