Trilogy (17 page)

Fresh explosions continued to flare close by despite Chewbacca's best efforts at evasion. On Solo's console a red warning light began to flash for attention.

“What's that?” Luke wondered nervously.

“We're losing a deflector shield,” Solo informed him with the air of a man about to have a tooth pulled. “Better strap yourselves back in. We're almost ready to make the jump. It could get bad if we take a near-burst at the wrong moment.”

Back in the main hold area Threepio was already locked tightly into his seat by metal arms stronger then any acceleration straps. Artoo swayed back and forth under the concussion produced by increasingly powerful energy bursts against the ship's deflectors.

“Was this trip really necessary?” the tall robot muttered in desperation. “I'd forgotten how much I hate space travel.” He broke off as Luke and Ben appeared and began strapping themselves back into their chairs.

Oddly, Luke was thinking of a dog he had once owned when an immensely powerful something wrenched at the ship's hull with the strength of a fallen angel.

* * *

A
dmiral Motti entered the quiet conference room, his face streaked by the linear lights lining the walls. His gaze went to the spot where Governor Tarkin stood before the curved viewscreen, and he bowed slightly. Despite the evidence of the small green gem of a world entered in the screen, he formally announced, “We have entered the Alderaan system. We await your order.”

The door signaled and Tarkin made a falsely gentle gesture to the admiral. “Wait a moment yet, Motti.”

The door slid aside and Leia Organa entered, flanked by two armed guards, followed by Darth Vader.

“I am—” Tarkin began.

“I know who you are,” she spat, “Governor Tarkin. I should have expected to find you holding Vader's leash. I thought I recognized your unique stench when I was first brought on board.”

“Charming to the last,” Tarkin declared in a fashion which suggested he was anything but charmed. “You don't know how hard I found it to sign the order for your termination.” His expression changed to one of mock sorrow. “Of course, had you cooperated in our investigation, things might be otherwise. Lord Vader has informed me that your resistance to our traditional methods of inquiry—”

“Torture, you mean,” she countered a trifle shakily.

“Let us not bandy semantics,” Tarkin smiled.

“I'm surprised you had the courage to take the responsibility for issuing the order on yourself.”

Tarkin sighed reluctantly. “I am a dedicated man, and the pleasures I reserve for myself are few. One of them is
that before your execution I should like you to be my guest at a small ceremony. It will certify this battle station's operational status while at the same time ushering in a new era of Imperial technical supremacy. This station is the final link in the new-forged Imperial chain which will bind the million systems of the galactic Empire together once and for all. Your petty Alliance will no longer be of any concern to us. After today's demonstration no one will dare to oppose Imperial decree, not even the Senate.”

Organa looked at him with contempt. “Force will not keep the Empire together. Force has never kept anything together for very long. The more you tighten your grip, the more systems will slip through your fingers. You're a foolish man, Governor. Foolish men often choke to death on their own delusions.”

Tarkin smiled a death's-head smile, his face a parchment skull's. “It will be interesting to see what manner of passing Lord Vader has in mind for you. I am certain it will be worthy of you—and of him.

“But before you leave us, we must demonstrate the power of this station once and for all, in a conclusive fashion. In a way, you have determined the choice of subject for this demonstration. Since you have proven reluctant to supply us with the location of the rebel stronghold, I have deemed it appropriate to select as an alternate subject your home planet of Alderaan.”

“No! You can't! Alderaan is a peaceful world, with no standing armies. You can't …”

Tarkin's eyes gleamed. “You would prefer another target? A military target, perhaps? We're agreeable … name the system.” He shrugged elaborately. “I grow tired
of such games. For the last time, where is the main rebel base?”

A voice announced over a hidden speaker that they had approached within antigrav range of Alderaan—approximately six planetary diameters. That was enough to accomplish what all of Vader's infernal devices had failed to.

“Dantooine,” she whispered, staring at the deck, all pretense at defiance gone now. “They're on Dantooine.”

Tarkin let out a slow sigh of satisfaction, then turned to the black figure nearby. “There, you see, Lord Vader? She can be reasonable. One need only frame the question properly to elicit the desired response.” He directed his attention to the other officers. “After concluding our little test here we shall make haste to move on to Dantooine. You may proceed with the operation, gentlemen.”

It took several seconds for Tarkin's words, so casually uttered, to penetrate. “
What!
” Organa finally gasped.

“Dantooine,” Tarkin explained, examining his fingers, “is too far from the centers of Imperial population to serve as the subject of an effective demonstration. You will understand that for reports of our power to spread rapidly through the Empire we require an obstreperous world more centrally located. Have no fear, though. We will deal with your rebel friends on Dantooine as soon as possible.”

“But you said …” Organa started to protest.

“The only words which have meaning are the last ones spoken,” Tarkin declared cuttingly. “We will proceed with the destruction of Alderaan as planned. Then you will enjoy watching with us as we obliterate the Dantooine center of this stupid and futile rebellion.”

He gestured to the two soldiers flanking her. “Escort her to the principal observation level and,” he smiled, “make certain she is provided with an unobstructed view.”

VIII

S
OLO WAS BUSILY CHECKING
read-outs 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 one 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 Wookiee'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 Wookiee.”

“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 through 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, your 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 is 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 ball 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. “Hocuspocus 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. Too 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. Its 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.