Star Wars_ Episode VI_ Return of the Jedi - James Kahn [39]
“You may not enter,” the officer said evenly.
Vader did not waste words. He raised his hand, fingers outstretched, toward the officer’s throat. Ineffably, the officer began to choke. His knees started buckling, his face turned ashen.
Gasping for air, he spoke again. “It is the … Emperor’s … command.”
Like a spring, Vader released the man from his remote grip. The officer, breathing again, sank to the floor, trembling. He rubbed his neck gently.
“I will await his convenience,” Vader said. He turned and looked out the view window. Leaf-green Endor glowed there, floating in black space, almost as if it were radiant from some internal source of energy. He felt its pull like a magnet, like a vacuum, like a torch in the dead night.
Han and Chewie crouched opposite each other in the forest clearing, being quiet, being near. The rest of the strike squad relaxed—as much as was possible—spread out around them in groups of twos and threes. They all waited.
Even Threepio was silent. He sat beside Artoo, polishing his fingers for lack of anything better to do. The others checked their watches, or their weapons, as the afternoon sunlight ticked away.
Artoo sat, unmoving except for the little radar screen that stuck out the top of his blue and silver dome, revolving, scanning the forest. He exuded the calm patience of a utilized function, a program being run.
Suddenly, he beeped.
Threepio ceased his obsessive polishing and looked apprehensively into the forest. “Someone’s coming,” he translated.
The rest of the squad faced out; weapons were raised. A twig cracked beyond the western perimeter. No one breathed.
With a weary stride, Luke stepped out of the foliage, into the clearing. All relaxed, lowered their guns. Luke was too tired to care. He plopped down on the hard dirt beside Solo and lay back with an exhausted groan.
“Hard day, huh kid?” Han commented.
Luke sat up on one elbow, smiling. It seemed like an awful lot of effort and noise just to nail a couple of Imperial scouts; and they hadn’t even gotten to the really tough part yet. But Han could still maintain his light tone. It was a state of grace, his particular brand of charm. Luke hoped it never vanished from the universe. “Wait’ll we get to that generator,” he retorted in kind.
Solo looked around, into the forest Luke had just come from. “Where’s Leia?”
Luke’s face suddenly turned to one of concern. “She didn’t come back?”
“I thought she was with you,” Han’s voice marginally rose in pitch and volume.
“We got split up,” Luke explained. He exchanged a grim look with Solo, then both of them slowly stood. “We better look for her.”
“Don’t you want to rest a while?” Han suggested. He could see the fatigue in Luke’s face and wanted to spare him for the coming confrontation, which would surely take more strength than any of them had.
“I want to find Leia,” he said softly.
Han nodded, without argument. He signaled to the Rebel officer who was second in command of the strike squad. The officer ran up and saluted.
“Take the squad ahead,” ordered Solo. “We’ll rendezvous at the shield generator at 0-30.”
The officer saluted again and immediately organized the troops. Within a minute they were filing silently into the forest, greatly relieved to be moving at last.
Luke, Chewbacca, General Solo, and the two droids faced in the opposite direction. Artoo led the way, his revolving scanner sensing for all the parameters that described his mistress; and the others followed him into the woods.
The first thing Leia was aware of was her left elbow. It was wet. It was lying in a pool of water, getting quite soaked.
She moved the elbow out of the water with a little splash, revealing something else: pain—pain in her entire arm when it moved. For the time being, she decided to keep it still.
The next thing to enter her consciousness were sounds. The splash her elbow had made, the rustle of leaves, an occasional bird chirp.