Solo was busily checking readouts from gauges and dials in the hold area.
Occasionally he would pass a small box across various sensors, study the result, and
cluck with pleasure.
    "You can stop worrying about your Imperial friends," he told Luke and Ben.
"They'll never be able to track us now.  Told you I'd lose them."
    Kenobi might have nodded briefly in response, but he was engaged in explaining
something to Luke.
    "Don't everybody thank me at once," Solo grunted, slightly miffed.  "Anyway,
navigation computer calculates our arrival in Alderaan orbit at oh-two-hundred.  I'm
afraid after this little adventure I'll have to forge a new registration."
    He returned to his checking, passing in front of a small circular table.  The top
was covered with small squares lit from beneath, while computer monitors were set
into each side.  Tiny three-dimensional figures were projected above the tabletop
from various squares.
    Chewbacca sat hunched over on side of the table, his chin resting in massive
hands.  His great eyes glowing and facial whiskers wrinkled upward, he gave every
sign of being well pleased with himself.
    At least, he did until Artoo Detoo reached up with a stubby clawed limb across
from him and tapped his own computer monitor.  One of the figures walked abruptly
across the board to a new square and stopped there.
    An expression of puzzlement, then anger crossed the Wookie's face as he studied
the new configuration.  Glaring up and over the table, he vented a stream of abusive
gibberish on the inoffensive machine.  Artoo could only beep in reply, but Threepio
soon interceded on behalf of his less eloquent companion and began arguing with the
hulking anthropoid.
    "He executed a fair move.  Screaming about it won't help you."
    Attracted by the commotion, Solo looked back over his shoulder, frowning
slightly.  "Let him have it.  Your friend's way ahead anyhow.  It's not wise to upset
a Wookie."
    "I can sympathize with that opinion, sir," Threepio countered, "but there is
principle at stake here.  There are certain standards any sentient creature must hold
to.  If one compromises them for any reason, including intimidation, then one is
abrogating his right to be called intelligent."
    "I hope you'll both remember that," Solo advised him, "when Chewbacca is
pulling the arms off you and your little friend."
    "Besides that, however," Threepio continued without missing a beat, "being
greedy or taking advantage of someone in a weakened position is a clear sign of poor
sportsmanship."
    That elicited a beep of outrage from Artoo, and the two robots were soon
engaged in violent electronic argument while Chewbacca continued jabbering at each
in turn, occasionally waving at them though the translucent pieces waiting patiently
on the board.
    Oblivious to the altercation, Luke stood frozen in the middle of the hold.  He
held an activated lightsaber in position over his head.  A low hum came from the
ancient instrument while Luke lunged and parried under Ben Kenobi's instructive
gaze.  As Solo glanced from time to time at Luke's awkward movements, his lean
features were sprinkled with smugness.
    "No, Luke, you cuts should flow, not be so choppy," Kenobi instructed gently.
"Remember, the force is omnipresent.  It envelops you as it radiates from you.  A
Jedi warrior can actually feel the force as a physical thing."
    "It is an energy field, then?" Luke inquired.
    "It's an energy field and something more," Kenobi went on, almost mystically.
"An aura that at once controls and obeys.  It is a nothingness that can accomplish
miracles."  He looked thoughtful for a moment.
    "No one, not even the Jedi scientists, were able to truly define the force.
Possibly no one ever will.  Sometimes there is as much magic as science in the
explanations of the force.  Yet what is a magician but a practicing theorist?  Now,
let's try again."
    The old man was hefting a silvery globe about the size of a man's fist.  It was
covered with fine antennae, some as delicate as those of a moth.  He flipped it
toward Luke and watched as it halted a couple of meters away from the boy's face.
    Luke readied himself as the ball circled him slowly, turning to face it as it
assumed a new position.  Abruptly it executed a lightning-swift lunge, only to freeze
about a meter away.  Luke failed to succumb to the feint, and the balls soon backed
off.
    Moving slowly to one side in an effort to get around the ball's fore sensors, Luke
drew the saber back preparatory to striking.  As he did so the ball darted in behind
him.  A thin pencil of red light jumped from one of the antennae to the back of
Luke's thigh, knocking him to the deck even as he was bringing his saber around—
too late.
    Rubbing at his tingling, sleeping leg, Luke tried to ignore the burst of accusing
laughter from Solo.  "Hocus-pocus religions and archaic weapons are no substitute
for a good blaster at your side," the pilot sneered.
    "You don't believe in the force?" asked Luke, struggling back to his feet.  The
numbing effect of the beam wore off quickly.
    "I've been from one end of this galaxy to the other," the pilot boasted, "and I've
seen a lot of strange things.  To many to believe there couldn't be something like this
'force.'  Too many to think that there could be some such controlling one's actions.
I determine my destiny—not some half-mystical energy field."  He gestured toward
Kenobi.  "I wouldn't follow him so blindly, if I were you.  He's a clever old man,
full of simple tricks and mischief.  He might be using you for his own ends."
    Kenobi only smiled gently, then turned back to face Luke.  "I suggest you try it
again, Luke," he said soothingly.  "You must try to divorce your actions from
conscious control.  Try not to focus on anything concrete, visually or mentally.  You
must let your mind drift, drift; only then can you use the force.  You have to enter a
state in which you act on what you sense, not on what you think beforehand.  You
must cease cogitation, relax, stop thinking…let yourself drift…free…free…"
    The old man's voice had dropped to a mesmerizing buzz.  As he finished, the
chrome bulb darted at Luke.  Dazed by Kenobi's hypnotic tone, Luke didn't see it
charge.  It's doubtful he saw much of anything with clarity.  But as the ball neared,
he whirled with amazing speed, the saber arcing up and out in a peculiar fashion.
The red beam that the globe emitted was neatly deflected to one side.  It humming
stopped and the ball bounced to the deck, all animation gone.
    Blinking as if coming awake from a short nap, Luke stared in absolute
astonishment at the inert remote.
    "You see, you can do it," Kenobi told him.  "One can teach only so much.
Now you must learn to admit the force when you want it, so that you can learn to
control it consciously."
    Moving to one side, Kenobi took a large helmet from behind a locker and walked
over to Luke.  Placing the helmet over his head effectively eliminated the boy's
vision.
    "I can't see," Luke muttered, turning around and forcing Kenobi to step back out
of range of the dangerously wavering saber.  "How can I fight?"
    "With the force," old Ben explained.  "You didn't really 'see' the seeker when
you parried its beam.  Try to let that sensation flow within you again."
    "I can't do it," Luke moaned.  "I'll get hit again."
    "Not if you let yourself trust you," Kenobi insisted, none too convincingly for
Luke.  "This is the only way to be certain you're replying wholly on the force."
    Noticing that the Corellian had turned to watch, Kenobi hesitated momentarily.
It did Luke no good to have the self-assured pilot laugh every time a mistake was
made.  But coddling the boy would do him no good either, and there was no time for
it anyway.  Throw him in and hope he floats, Ben instructed himself firmly.
    Bending over the chrome globe, he touched a control at its side.  Then he tossed
it straight up.  It arched toward Luke.  Braking in midfall, the ball plummeted
stone-like toward the deck.  Luke swung the saber at it.  While it was a
commendable try, it wasn't nearly fast enough.  Once again the little antenna glowed.
This time the crimson needle hit Luke square on the seat of his pants.  Though it
wasn't an incapacitating below, it felt like one; and Luke let out a yelp of pain as he
spun, trying to strike his invisible tormentor.
    "Relax!" old Ben urged him.  "Be free.  You're trying to use your eyes and
ears.  Stop predicting and use the rest of your mind."
    Suddenly the youth stopped, waving slightly.  The seeker was still behind him.
Changing direction again, it made another dive and fired.
    Simultaneously the lightsaber jerked around, as accurate as it was awkward in its
motion, to deflect the bolt.  This time the ball didn't fall motionless to the deck.
Instead it backed up three meters and remained there, hovering.
    Aware that the drone of the seeker remote no longer assaulted his ears, a cautious
Luke peeked out from under the helmet.  Sweat and exhaustion competed for space
on his face.
    "Did I--?"
    "I told you you could," Kenobi informed him with pleasure.  "Once you start to
trust your inner self there'll be no stopping you.  I told you there was much of your
father in you."
    "I'd call it luck," snorted Solo as he concluded his examination of the readouts.
    "In my experience there is no such thing as luck, my young friend—only highly
favorable adjustments of multiple factors to incline events in one's favor."
    "Call it what you like," the Corellian sniffed indifferently, "but good against a
mechanical remote is one thing.  Good against a living menace is another."
    As he was speaking a small telltale light on the far side of the hold had begun
flashing.  Chewbacca noticed it and called out to him.
    Solo glanced at the board, then informed his passengers, "We're coming up on
Alderaan.  We'll be slowing down shortly and going back under lightspeed.  Come
on, Chewie."
    Rising from the game table, the Wookie followed his partner toward the cockpit.
Luke watched them depart, but his mind wasn't on their imminent arrival at Alderaan.
It was burning with something else, something that seemed to grow and mature at the
back of his brain as he dwelt on it.
    "You know," he murmured, "I did feel something.  I could almost 'see' the
outlines of the remote."  He gestured at the hovering device behind him.
    Kenobi's voice when he replied was solemn.  "Luke, you've taken the first step
into a larger universe."
    Dozens of humming, buzzing instruments lent the freighter's cockpit the air of a
busy hive.  Solo and Chewbacca had their attention locked on the most vital of those
instruments.
    "Steady…stand by, Chewie." Solo adjusted several manual compensators.
"Ready to go sublight…ready…cut us in, Chewie."
    The Wookie turned something on the console before him.  At the same time
Solo pulled back on a comparatively large lever.  Abruptly the long streaks of
Doppler-distorted starlight slowed to hyphen shapes, then finally to familiar bolts of
fire.  A gauge on the console registered zero.
    Gigantic chunks of glowing stone appeared out of the nothingness, barely
shunted aside by the ship's deflectors.  The strain caused the Millennium Falcon to
begin shuddering violently.
    "What the--?" a thoroughly startled Solo muttered.  Next to him, Chewbacca
offered no comment of his own as he flipped off several controls and activated others.
Only the fact that the cautious Solo always emerged from supralight travel with his
deflectors up—just in case any of many unfriendly folks might be waiting for him—
had saved the freighter from instant destruction.
    Luke fought to keep his balance as he made his way into the cockpit.  "What's
going on?"
    "We're back in normal space," Solo informed him, "but we've come out in the
middle of the worst asteroid storm I've ever seen.  It's not on any of our charts."
He peered hard at several indicators.  "According to the galactic atlas, our position is
correct.  Only one thing is missing: Alderaan."
    "Missing?  But—that's crazy!"
    "I won't argue with you," the Corellian replied grimly, "but look for yourself."
He gestured out the port.  "I've triple-checked the coordinates, and there's nothing
wrong with the nav'puter.  We ought to be standing out one planetary diameter from
the surface.  The planet's glow should be filling the cockpit, but—there's nothing out
there.  Nothing but debris."  He paused.  "Judging from the level of wild energy
outside and the amount of solid waste, I'd guess that Alderaan's been blown away.
Totally."
    "Destroyed," Luke whispered, overwhelmed at the specter raised by such an
unimaginable disaster.  "But—how?"
    "The Empire," a voice declared firmly.  Ben Kenobi had come in behind Luke,
and his attention was held by the emptiness ahead as well as the import behind it.
    "No." Solo was shaking his head slowly.  In his own way even he was stunned
by the enormity of what the old man was suggesting.  That a human agency had been
responsible for the annihilation of an entire population, of a planet itself…
    "No…the entire Imperial fleet couldn't have done this.  It would take a
thousand ships massing a lot more firepower than has ever existed."
    "I wonder if we should get out of here," Luke was murmuring, trying to see
around the rims of the port.  "If by some chance it was the Empire…"
    "I don't know what's happened here," an angry Solo cursed, "but I'll tell you one
thing.  The Empire isn't—"
    Muffled alarms began humming loudly as a synchronous light flashed on the
control console.  Solo bent to the appropriate instrumentation.
    "Another ship," he announced.  "Can't judge the type yet."
    "A survivor, maybe—someone who might know what happened." Luke ventured
hopefully.
    Ben Kenobi's next words shattered more than that hope.  "That's an Imperial
fighter."
    Chewbacca suddenly gave an angry bark.  A huge flower of destruction
blossomed outside the port, battering the freighter violently.  A tiny, double-winged
ball raced past the cockpit port.
    "It followed us!" Luke shouted.
    "From Tatooine?  It couldn't have," objected a disbelieving Solo.  "Not in
hyperspace."
    Kenobi was studying the configuration the tracking screen displayed.  "You're
quite right, Han.  It's the short-range Tie fighter."
    "But where did it come from?" the Corellian wanted to know.  "There are no
Imperial bases near here.  It couldn't have been a Tie job."
    "You saw it pass."
    "I know.  It looked like a Tie fighter—but what about a base?"
    "It's leaving in a big hurry," Luke noted, studying the tracker.  "No matter
where it's going, if it identifies us we're in big trouble."
    "Not if I can help it," Solo declared.  "Chewie, jam its transmission.  Lay in a
pursuit course."
    "It would be best to let it go," Kenobi ventured thoughtfully.  "It's already too
far out of range."
    "Not for long."
    Several minutes followed, during which the cockpit was filled with a tense
silence.  Al eyes were on the tracking screen and viewport.
    At first the Imperial fighter tried a complex evasive course, to no avail.  The
surprisingly maneuverable freighter hung tight on its tail, continuing to make up the
distance between them.  Seeing that he couldn't shape his pursuers, the fighter pilot
had obviously opened up his tiny engine all the way.
    Ahead, one of the multitudes of stars was becoming steadily brighter.  Luke
frowned.  They were moving fast, but not nearly fast enough for any heavenly object
to brighten so rapidly.  Something here didn't make sense.
    "Impossible for a fighter that small to be this deep in space on its own," Solo
observed.
    "It must have gotten lost, been part of a convoy or something," Luke
hypothesized.
    Solo's comment was gleeful.  "Well, he won't be around long enough to tell
anyone about us.  We'll be on top of him in a minute or two."
    The star ahead continued to brighten, its glow evidently coming from within.  It
assumed a circular outline.
    "He's heading for that small moon," Luke murmured.
    "The Empire must have an outpost there," Solo admitted.  "Although, according
to the atlas, Alderaan had no moons."  He shrugged it off.  "Galactic topography
was never one of my best subjects.  I'm only interested in worlds and moons with
customers on them.  But I think I can get him before he gets there; he's almost in
range."
    They drew steadily nearer.  Gradually craters and mountains on the moon
became visible.  Yet there was something extremely odd about them.  The craters
were far too regular in outline, the mountains far too vertical, canyons and valley
impossibly straight and regularized.  Nothing as capricious as volcanic action had
formed those features.
    "That's no moon," Kenobi breathed softly.  "That's a space station."
    "But it's too big to be a space station," Solo objected.  "The size of it!  It can't
be artificial—it can't!"
    "I have a very strange feeling about this," was Luke's comment.
    Abruptly the usually calm Kenobi was shouting.  "Turn the ship around!  Let's
get out of here!"
    "Yes, I think you're right, old man.  Full reverse, Chewie."
    The Wookie started adjusting controls, and the freighter seemed to slow, arcing
around in a broad curve.  The tiny fighter leaped instantly toward the monstrous
station until it was swallowed up by its overpowering bulk.
    Chewbacca chattered something at Solo as the ship shook and strained against
unseen forces.
    "Lock in auxiliary power!" Solo ordered.
    Gauges began to whine in protest, and by ones and twos every instrument on the
control console sequentially went berserk.  Try as he might, Solo couldn't keep the
surface of the gargantuan station from looming steadily larger, larger—until it became
the heavens.
    Luke stared wildly at secondary installations as big as mountains, dish antennae
larger than all of Mos Eisley.  "Why are we still moving toward it?"
    "Too late," Kenobi whispered softly.  A glance at Solo confirmed his concern.
    "We're caught in a tractor beam—strongest on I ever saw.  It's dragging us in,"
the pilot muttered.
    "You mean, there's nothing you can do?" Luke asked, feeling unbelievably
helpless.
    Solo studied the overloaded sensor readouts and shook his head.  "Not against
this kind of power.  I'm on full power myself, kid, and it's not shifting out of course
a fraction of a degree.  It's no use.  I'm going to have to shut down or we'll melt
our engines.  But they're not going to suck me up like so much dust without a fight!"
    He started to vacate the pilot's chair, but was restrained by an aged yet powerful
hand on his shoulder.  An expression of concern was on the old man's face—and yet,
a suggestion of something somewhat less funereal.
    "If it's a fight you cannot win—well, my boy, there are always alternatives to
fighting…"
    The true size of the battle station became apparent as the freighter was pulled
closer and closer.  Running around the station's equator was an artificial cluster of
metal mountains, docking ports stretching beckoning fingers nearly two kilometers
above the surface.
    Now only a miniscule speck against the gray bulk of the station, the Millennium
Falcon was sucked toward one of those steel pseudopods and finally swallowed by it.
A lake of metal closed off the entryway, and the freighter vanished as if it had never
existed.

    Vader stared at the motley array of stars displayed on the conference-room map
while Tarkin and Admiral Motti conferred nearby.  Interestingly, the first use of the
most powerful destructive machine ever constructed had seemingly had no influence
at all on that map, which in itself represented only a tiny fraction of this section of one
modest-sized galaxy.
    It would take a microbreakdown of a portion of this map to reveal a slight
reduction in spatial mass, caused by the disappearance of Alderaan.  Alderaan, with
its many cities, farms, factories, and towns—and traitors, Vader reminded himself.
    Despite his advances and intricate technological methods of annihilation, the
actions of mankind remained unnoticeable to an uncaring, unimaginably vast universe.
If Vader's grandest plans ever came to pass, all that would change.
    He was well aware that despite all their intelligence and drive, the vastness and
wonder were lost on the two men who continued to chatter monkeylike behind him.
Tarkin and Motti were talented and ambitious, but they saw things only on the scale of
human pettiness.  It was a pity, Vader thought, that they did not possess the scope to
match their abilities.
    Still, neither man was a Dark Lord.  As such, little more could be expected of
them.  These two were useful now, and dangerous, but someday they, like Alderaan,
would have to be swept aside.  For now he could not afford to ignore them.  And
while he would have preferred the company of equals, he had to admit reluctantly that
at this point, he had no equals.
    Nonetheless, he turned to them and insinuated himself into their conversation.
"The defense systems on Alderaan, despite the Senator's protestations to the contrary,
were as strong as any in the Empire.  I should conclude that our demonstration was
as impressive as it was thorough."
    Tarkin turned to him, nodding.  "The Senate is being informed of our action at
this very moment.  Soon we will be able to announce the extermination of the
Alliance itself, as soon as we have dealt with their main military base.  Now that
their main source of munitions, Alderaan, has been eliminated, the rest of those
systems with secessionist inclinations will fall in line quickly enough, you'll see."
    Tarkin turned as an Imperial officer entered the chamber.  "Yes, what is it,
Cass?"
    The unlucky officer wore the expression of the mouse chosen to bell the cat.
"Governor, the advance scouts have reached and circumnavigated Dantooine.  They
have found the remains of a rebel base…, which they estimate has been deserted for
some time.  Years, possibly.  They are proceeding with an extensive survey of the
remainder of the system."
    Tarkin turned apoplectic, his face darkening to a fine pomegranate fury.  "She
lied!  She lied to us!"
    No one could see, but it seemed that Vader must have smiled behind his mask.
"Then we are even in the first exchange of 'truths.'  I told you she would never
betray the rebellion—unless she thought her confession could somehow destroy us in
the process."
    "Terminate her immediately!"  The Governor was barely able to form words.
    "Calm yourself, Tarkin," Vader advised him.  "You would throw away our only
link to the real rebel base so casually?  She can still be of value to us."
    "Fagh!  You just said it yourself, Vader: we'll get nothing more out of her.  I'll
find that hidden fortress if I have to destroy every star system in this sector.  I'll—"
    a quiet yet demanding beep interrupted him.  "Yes, what is it?" he inquired
irritably.
    A voice reported over an unseen speaker.  "Sirs, we've captured a small
freighter that was entering the remains of Alderaan.  A standard check indicates that
its markings apparently match that of the ship which blasted its way out of the
quarantine at Mos Eisley, Tatooine system, and went hyper before the Imperial
blockade craft there could close on it."
    Tarkin looked puzzled.  "Mos Eisley?  Tatooine?  What is this?  What's this
all about, Vader?"
    "It means, Tarkin, that the last of our unresolved difficulties is about to be
eliminated.  Someone apparently received the missing data tapes, learned who
transcribed them, and was trying to return them to her.  We may be able to facilitate
their meeting with the Senator."
    Tarkin started to say something, hesitated, then nodded in understanding.  "How
convenient.  I leave this matter in your hands, Vader."
    The Dark Lord bowed slightly, a gesture, which Tarkin acknowledged with
perfunctory salute.  Then he spun and strode from the room, leaving Motti looking
from man to man in confusion.

    The freighter sat listlessly in the docking hangar of the huge bay.  Thirty armed
Imperial troopers stood before the lowered man ramp leading into the ship.  They
snapped to attention when Vader and a Commander approached.  Vader halted at the
base of the ramp, studying the vessel as an officer and several soldiers came forward.
    "There was no reply to our repeated signals, sir, so we activated the ramp from
outside.  We've made no contact with anyone aboard either by communicator or in
person," the officer reported.
    "Send your men in," Vader ordered.
    Turning, the officer relayed to command to a noncom, who barked orders.  A
number of the heavily armored soldiers made their way up the ramp and entered the
outer hold.  They advanced with appreciable caution.
    Inside, two men covered a third as he advanced.  Moving in groups of three in
this fashion, they rapidly spread through the ship.  Corridors rang hollowly under
metal-shod feet, and doors slid aside willingly as they were activated.
    "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 long 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 figure 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 Wookie
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 gentry 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 screen 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 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," the 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 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 Wookie.  "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.  Al 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 there."
    Solo handed Luke the thin but quite unbreakable cuffs and relayed the request to
Chewbacca.  The Wookie lumbered over and stood waiting next to Luke.
    "Now, I'm going to put these on you," Luke began, starting to move behind the
Wookie 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 Wookie 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 corridor where Ben
Kenobi had disappeared.