Star Wars_ Episode V_ The Empire Strikes Back - Donald F. Glut [59]
'I understand,' Luke replied calmly. Then, turning to his droid, he said, 'Artoo, fire up the power converters.'
Artoo, who had already unfastened the power couplings on the ship, whistled happily, grateful to be leaving this dismal bog world, which was certainly no place for a droid.
'Luke,' Ben advised, 'use the Force only for knowledge and for defense, not as a weapon. Don't give in to hate or anger. They lead the way to the dark side.'
Luke nodded, only half-listening. His mind was on the long journey and on the difficult tasks ahead of him. He must save his friends, whose lives were in danger because of him. He climbed into the cockpit, then looked at his little Jedi Master.
Yoda was deeply concerned about his apprentice. 'Strong is Vader,' he warned ominously. 'Clouded is your fate. Mind what you have learned. Notice everything, everything! It can save you.'
'I will, Master Yoda,' Luke assured him. 'I will and I'll be back to finish what I have begun. I give you my word!'
Artoo closed the cockpit and Luke started the engines.
Yoda and Obi-Wan Kenobi watched the X- wing gear its engines and begin to move away for take-off.
'Told you, I did,' Yoda said sorrowfully, as the sleek fighter craft began to lift into the misty heavens. 'Reckless is he. Now things are going to worse.'
'That boy is our last hope,' Ben Kenobi said, his voice heavy with emotion.
'No,' Kenobi's former teacher corrected with a knowing gleam in his large eyes, 'there is another.'
Yoda lifted his head toward the darkening sky where Luke's ship was already a barely distinguishable point of light among the flickering stars.
= XII =
CHEWBACCA thought he was going mad!
The prison cell was flooded with hot, blinding light that seared his sensitive Wookiee eyes. Not even his huge hands and hairy arms, thrust up over his face, could entirely protect him from the glare. And to add to his misery, a high-pitched whistle blared into the cubicle, tormenting his keen sense of hearing. He roared in agony, but his guttural roars were drowned out by the piercing, screeching noise.
The Wookiee paced back and forth within the confines of the cell. Moaning pitifully, he pounded at the thick walls in desperation, wanting someone, anyone, to come and free him. While he pounded, the whistle that had nearly exploded his eardrums suddenly stopped and the deluge of light flickered and went out.
Chewbacca staggered back a step with the sudden absence of torture, and then moved to one of the cell walls to try to detect whether anyone was approaching to release him. But the thick walls revealed nothing and, maddened to a fury, Chewbacca slammed a giant fist against the wall.
But the wall stood undamaged and as impenetrable as before, and Chewbacca realized it would take more than Wookiee brute strength to topple it. Despairing of his chances of breaking through the cell to freedom, Chewbacca shuffled toward the bed, where the box of 3PO parts had been placed.
Idly at first, and then with more interest, the Wookiee began poking through the box. It dawned on him that it might be possible to repair the disjointed droid. Not only would doing so pass the time, but it might be helpful to have Threepio back in working condition.
He picked up the golden head and gazed into its darkened eyes. He held the head and barked a few soliloquizing words as if to prepare the robot for the joy of re-entry into activity - or for the disappointment of Chewbacca's possible failure to reconstruct him properly.
Then, quite delicately for a creature of his size and strength, the giant Wookiee placed the staring head atop the bronzed torso. Tentatively he began experimenting with Threepio's tangle of wires and circuits. His mechanical skills had previously only been tested in repairs on the Millennium Falcon, so he wasn't at all certain he could complete the delicate task. Chewbacca jiggled and fiddled with the wires, baffled by this intricate