Chapter 3
A herd of wild banthas scrounging for cacti and edible brush scattered, honking irritably, as Jabba's majestic sail barge roared through their grazing grounds. A massive affair reminiscent of an ancient aquatic ship, its repulsors churned up the sand and left a miniature sandstorm in its wake. Brilliant red awnings protected its occupants from the blazing suns, and powerful guns bristled from all sides. Hovering close by like a scavenger fish tagging along with a Hapan sea dragon was a much smaller hoverskiff, its top completely open to the elements.
Luke blinked rapidly, the sun and sand in his eyes making it difficult to see. Four guards on this skiff, plus over two dozen of Jabba's thugs and hangers-on aboard the barge, versus two Jedi, two droids, a medical officer, a con man, a princess, a Wookie, and a blind smuggler… not good odds at all. But Vader had assured them that he and Forenze could handle their part of the plan. All he could do was trust them while he concentrated on freeing Han and Chewie.
"I think my sight's returning," Han noted.
"Yeah?" asked Luke.
"Yeah, instead of a big dark blur, it's all a big light blur."
Luke laughed a little. "Not much to see beyond that." He gazed at the dune crests that obscured the horizon. "I used to live here, you know."
"You're gonna die here. Convenient."
"Your optimism's a comfort, Han. Just stick close to Chewie. Vader and I have everything under control."
"Right," Han replied sarcastically. "Chewie told me you'd gone and become a Jedi Knight." He shook his head and muttered, "I'm out of it for a little while and everyone gets delusions of grandeur…"
"Vader's a Jedi too," Luke replied. "He's on the barge now, getting ready to free Leia."
"Vader? A Jedi? If that's isn't ironic."
"And he regained his memory too."
"He WHAT?!"
"Regained his memory. Don't worry, he decided to stay with the Alliance. He didn't have many good memories of serving the Empire."
Han rolled his eyes. "Everything seems to happen when I'm not around, doesn't it?"
Luke stared off into the distance, where a smudge of white was barely visible. The homestead was probably in the hands of another farmer family now. He doubted much would have been changed, however, if he had gone back and taken a look.
Life had certainly come full circle for him. A mere four years ago he'd been here on Tatooine banging on a vaporator on his uncle's moisture farm, detesting his dull life and yearning for adventure beyond the double suns of his homeworld. Now he was back, having lived those adventures he'd craved and seen a dozen worlds and moons… yet part of him missed those familiar, predictable days on the farm, working the fields, helping Aunt Beru cook dinner, racing skyhoppers with the boys, and arguing with the droids.
/But if you'd never left Tatooine, we'd never have been reunited/ Vader replied. /And you'd never have met Han and Leia, or destroyed the Death Star, or furthered your Jedi training./
/True. I'm just nostalgic, that's all./
/Wish I could say the same./ Vader's silence was thick and brooding. /I never thought I'd come back here. So many memories…/
/I'm sorry./
/Don't be. It's only that a childhood as a slave to a junk dealer doesn't offer much in the way of nostalgia. There was the podracing, though…/
/At least that's something, though./
/True./
To be honest, despite his wistfulness, Luke wouldn't have traded the last four years for anything. He was a Jedi now, and fighting for a noble cause with the Rebel Alliance. And above all, he had his father. That alone was worth leaving the comfort of home.
The barge ground to a halt alongside a pit in the sand, and the skiff Luke was aboard hovered just over the same cavity. Luke craned his neck to peer inside.
/The pit of Carkoon/ he thought with a shudder. He'd heard stories about the beast that lived here – mostly horror tales shared between the farm boys during their escapades or third- or fourth-hand spacer stories overheard in Anchorhead. As he'd grown older, he'd dismissed most of them as cantina talk or urban legends. Now he had little doubt that every last story he'd heard about the sarlaac was accurate.
Writhing within the pit were greenish tentacles that slithered and thrashed like vipers. Some of the limbs were extended skyward like antennae, possibly as scent or other sensory organs; others slapped eagerly at the skiff as if hoping to knock out a tasty morsel. Dead center in the squirming mass, a toothless beak gaped open, a slug-like tongue extended to taste the air for a hint of prey.
/Disgusting/ Vader complained.
/You should talk. You're not the one staring it in the mouth./
/Artoo's in position. Forenze and I are set to begin a little distraction whenever you're ready./
/Thanks. Wait for my signal./
/Will do./
Jabba's voice thundered from the shaded barge.
"If any of you should like to beg for mercy," Threepio translated in a slightly hysterical tone, "the Almighty Jabba will now hear your pleas."
Snide laughter rippled through those assembled on the barge. The skiff guards echoed the sentiment.
"Threepio!" Han shouted, obviously with more bravado than he felt. "You tell that piece of worm-ridden filth that he'll get no such pleasure from us!" He hesitated. "Right?"
"Jabba, this is your last chance!" Luke added. "Free us or die!"
The spectators roared with laughter.
"I think you terrified them," Han said sarcastically.
Luke spotted Artoo scooting closer to the edge of the barge's deck. He nodded, the droid's signal to get ready.
"Move the Jedi into position!" ordered Jabba.
The skiff guard shoved Luke onto the edge of the plank, undoing his hand binders. Presumably he wouldn't be needing them anymore. Luke bent over to have another look at the sarlaac, whose mouth was open and gaping in anticipation.
/Careful, Luke./
/I'm always careful./ He gave a little bounce, like a diver preparing to jump from a springboard. /You're just paranoid./
/If you don't hold still out there, I'm going to turn you over my knee and spank you when this is all over! You're going to give me a heart attack!/
He laughed a little but quit the antics.
At Jabba's order the Weequay guard stepped forward, ready to prod his victim into the sarlaac's eager maw. But Luke stepped off of his own accord… and spun in midair, grabbing the edge of the plank. He vaulted into the air, somersaulting over the stunned guards and landing neatly beside an awed Chewie, one arm raised to catch the lightsaber Artoo had launched into the air.
/Now!/
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Leia watched the skiff anxiously, her gaze fixed on Luke as he stepped forward to the edge of the plank, toward certain doom. What in the galaxy was he doing? Was this part of the plan? How exactly did it involve this madness? Or had the plan unraveled entirely, and he was simply maintaining his dignity to the end?
The collar about her throat jerked painfully, and she fell backward onto Jabba's bloated torso. She flinched and suppressed the urge to gag as he draped a possessive arm around her shoulders and held a cup of scummy-looking liquor before her mouth.
"Drink, my pet," he rumbled, stroking her hair. "You'll soon learn to appreciate me."
Closing her eyes, she faked a sip. Disgusting though the Hutt was, she could endure the humiliation he was putting her through. Even if Luke's plan failed, she could still engineer Jabba's death from the inside of his palace…
The crowded barge was suddenly alive with dismay. Had Luke escaped?
"What?!" bellowed Jabba. "What's going on out there?"
No one answered. Instead, chaos broke out on the barge.
"What the stang is happening here?" Jabba demanded.
"The pirate's gone crazy!" Fortuna replied.
"Which pirate?" demanded Jabba.
"The short one!"
"Which short one, you idiot?!"
"WHO YOU CALLING SHORT?!"
/I know that voice/ Leia thought with a snort of laughter.
A maniacal cackle could be heard over the din, and Leia spotted Medical Officer Forenze in the thick of the pitched brawl, the black flight helmet she'd worn to conceal her identify now rolling on the floor. Her feathered crest had been cropped into a military-style cut to fit under the helmet, and her dark blue flight suit made her pale features all the more prominent. She had her blaster out, but rather than firing it she seemed to prefer to use it as a club.
A Quarren in rich white robes stepped forward to subdue the crazed Fosh, a dagger in hand. Leia shouted a warning, and Forenze turned and promptly sank a fist in the alien's gut to knock the wind from him, at the same time whacking him alongside the head with her pistol. Though slight in build, she seemed perfectly able to take care of herself.
"Aurra, kill the bird!" Jabba ordered.
Aurra Sing drew her rifle, but a Tusken Raider knocked it out of her hands with his gaderffi. The Sandpeople had accompanied Jabba aboard the barge – a mistake on the Hutt's part, evidently. For the nomadic warriors were taking advantage of the fist fight's distraction to rebel.
Leia scrambled to Jabba's side, using the crime lord's flabby bulk as a shield against the rapidly escalating battle. If this was Luke's plan, at least it was working.
A blaze of red illuminated the dim barge as Aurra ignited a lightsaber. Grinning savagely, she struck at the closest Tusken, slicing through his gaderffi and severing two fingers. The warrior howled in pain, and a hooded comrade – Leia guessed he was a shaman of some sort – stepped forward to face the huntress. Leia winced. If the shaman thought himself a match for Aurra Sing, he was sorely mistaken.
Aurra laughed disdainfully and slashed at the Tusken's stomach – only for a bar of green energy to intercept her blade.
Stunned, Aurra struck again. The Tusken parried the slash. Leia recognized the saber immediately, but how could that be…
The shaman's hood fell back, revealing a black domed helmet. With one hand he reached up and swiftly tore away the traditional facial coverings to unveil a second, more sinister mask, one that glistened with a metallic luster.
"Darth Vader," Aurra hissed through clenched teeth, fighting to cloak her terror in rage.
Jabba made an unusually high-pitched sound and recoiled. The other occupants of the barge went into hysterics, screaming and backing away, some even leaping overboard to escape. Leia couldn't blame them, though at the moment she was glad for Vader's presence.
The injured Tusken scooped a discarded blaster from the floor with his good hand and shouted something in his native tongue. Vader replied in the same language, and the Raider eagerly leaped into the free-for-all battle. Meanwhile, a vicious saber fight ensued between Aurra and Vader.
"Kill him!" screamed Jabba, his fleshy body jiggling sickeningly as he trembled in fear. "Kill the Sith! Protect me!"
/What, can't protect yourself, your Grossness?/ Leia thought, and she flung a section of her chain around his throat. Jabba's next words were cut off with a gurgle as she hauled on the chain.
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The sail barge seethed with pitched battle, meaning that Vader and Forenze's distraction had gone beautifully. Luke smiled and turned to face the skiff guards, who didn't seem too impressed that they were facing a Jedi.
"Think you're hot stuff, Jedi?" the first sneered. "All your stunt's done is buy you time. You're still sarlaac chow."
The entire skiff rocked dangerously as the sarlaac struck it with a flailing tentacle, enraged at being denied food. The guards staggered, and Luke took advantage of their distraction to turn to Han and Chewie and cut through their handbinders.
"What's that noise?" demanded Han.
"Just a diversion," Luke replied.
The Weequay gripped his vibrostaff and charged Luke, only to be flung over the side by an irate Chewie. The sarlaac closed its maw over the screaming thug and pulled its beak deeper into the pit to swallow its prey.
"Thanks," Luke told the Wookie.
Another guard raised his staff to impale Luke. Luke struck the man's weapon, cutting it apart, and shoved him overboard. Then he ducked as Chewie flung yet another guard to his doom.
"Go get 'em, Chewie!" Han shouted.
"Chewie, wait!" cried Luke as Chewie went for the last guard, but it was too late. The Wookie tossed him off the skiff as well.
"That was Lando, Chewie!"
Chewie made a noise that could best be described as "So?" Evidently Chewie still hadn't entirely forgiven the former Baron for giving Han to the bounty hunter in the first place.
"Lando!" repeated Han. "What's Lando doing here?"
"He came here to help us!" Luke told him. "We've got to rescue him!"
"A little help down here!" Lando shouted, trying to claw his way out of the pit as a green-tinged tentacle reached for him.
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"Help me!" cried Threepio, swatting frantically at the monkey-lizard that was doing its best to disassemble his face.
Artoo made an exasperated series of beeps, then wheeled past a brutal fist fight between Forenze and a Nikto to where his unfortunate counterpart lay. Why did he have to be constantly coming to the protocol droid's aid? He extended a shock probe, and with a SNAP and a strong smell of static and burning fur he released a jolt of power into the jester's derriere. The creature hit the ceiling – quite literally – with a shriek.
"What took you so long, Artoo?" demanded Threepio, struggling to his feet. "Now let's get out of here before they decide to dismantle us…"
Artoo rammed into Threepio's legs, shoving him closer to the edge of the deck.
"Artoo, watch it!" he snapped. "Clumsy…"
One more solid collision, and Threepio tumbled with a cry to the sands. Artoo rolled off after him.
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/A Jedi resorts to battle only when there is no other alternative. When you draw your blade, you do so with intent to take a life. A Jedi takes no lives when death can be avoided./
/Yes, Master Kenobi/ Vader thought as he recalled that line from the fencing lectures, parrying another of Aurra Sing's brutal attacks. Well, battle had been pretty much inevitable once Aurra had drawn her weapon. She was a foe who could not be reasoned with or balked with a show of power or the Force. And considering her hatred toward the Jedi Order, not drawing his own blade would be suicidal.
Her face contorted in a snarl of rage as she slashed at his legs. He blocked the blow and feinted toward her left hip, then struck at her head. She parried fiercely and repaid the maneuver with a brutal blow that almost knocked the blade out of his hands.
He knew she hated him. He could sense it. Aurra hated him with a passion that he had once possessed – the passion to hunt down and murder the Jedi. And she would stop at nothing to see him dead.
But surprisingly, Vader only felt pity for the huntress, even as he fended off her ferocious strikes. This woman had been abducted from her Jedi Master at a tender age, brainwashed and turned against the Order by pirates and Anzati vampires, and fed so many lies that she could no longer harbor any empathy toward the Jedi – or any living being, for that matter. He sympathized with her plight. He, too, had been betrayed, lied to, and turned against the Order. He, too, had once been driven by the madness of hatred. Yet he had broken free of that anger… while Aurra remained enslaved by it.
Under different circumstances, he might have attempted to reach her and turn away her hatred. But seeing as he had a mission to be filling, he hadn't the time or resources. Instead, he concentrated on defending himself.
By now he had Aurra backed up to the edge of the deck. She seemed oblivious to her precarious position, intent only on destroying him.
A Tusken chose that moment to grab a Klatoonian by the front of his shirt and fling him over the edge of the deck – and smack into Vader and Aurra.
Vader grabbed the railing as he went over, clinging on for dear life. Aurra and the Klatoonian weren't so lucky – they tumbled, screaming, into the sarlaac's waiting jaws.
Forenze leaned over the railing and grabbed Vader's arm. "Why do I have to keep saving you?"
"You tell me," he replied, hauling himself aboard the barge.
"And what's with the getup anyhow? You look like one of those Tusken savages."
"That's the point."
The skiff shuddered as a cannon blast struck it. Chewie, who was holding Han's legs as he struggled to grab Lando's hand, almost toppled off. Luke took a running leap from the damaged skiff to land beside Vader and Forenze.
"C'mon!" he told them. "We've got to disable that cannon before it kills Han!"
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Jabba gave a last sickly rattle and slumped forward, face lax and tongue hanging out of his enormous mouth. In death he looked nothing like Tatooine's most fearsome crime lord – just like the slimy pile of lard he was.
Leia dropped the chain, exhausted. /That's for Han – and everyone else you've killed, harassed, and conned/ she thought.
"Leia!"
She turned to see Luke, Vader, and Forenze running for her. Vader still had his lightsaber ignited, and he slashed through the chain that bound her to the Hutt's side.
"He didn't hurt you, did he?" Vader demanded.
"No," she replied. "Why?"
He gave her a long, searching look, then motioned for her to go with Luke. She complied, running for the deck guns.
Outside the barge, the skiff's repulsors exploded under the cannon's fire, and the vehicle fell bow-first into the Pit of Carkoon. The sarlaac gave a squeal of terror and retracted its beak and as many tentacles as it could before the skiff crashed atop it. Han, Chewie, and Lando fell to the sands, struggling to their feet and bolting from the wreckage of machine and monster.
"Han!" Leia shouted.
"I'm fine!" he yelled, his reply barely audible over the chaos.
The deck gunner landed heavily at her feet, a cauterized stab wound through his chest.
"Get the cannon!" Luke ordered, keeping the rest of Jabba's thugs at bay. "Point it at the deck!"
She grabbed the heavy gun and wrenched it around, aiming its muzzle at the barge's deck. A well-placed shot would penetrate the barge's engines and destroy the entire vehicle.
"It's ready!" she shouted.
"Good!" Luke replied. "We'll have to jump! Brace yourself!"
She approached the edge and looked down. It was twelve feet down! She'd break a leg!
"I'm here," Luke assured her. "It'll be fine."
"For fwup's sake, jump already!" Forenze shrieked.
Leia closed her eyes and jumped. For a moment it felt as if invisible arms were holding her, slowing her fall. Then she hit the sand, and Han was beside her, helping her to her feet.
"Han!" She embraced him, burying her head in his shoulder. "Are you okay?"
"I think I can see a lot better now," Han replied. "But why are you dressed like THAT?!"
Forenze landed face-down not far away. "Ouch!"
"And you brought the cranky doctor too, I see," he noted.
Vader landed close by, followed by five Tusken Raiders. Luke was last – and just in time, for the barge erupted into a blossom of flame. Everyone scrambled to their feet and backed away from the holocaust.
"Impressive," Vader breathed. "Most impressive."
"I'd've been more impressed if you'd gotten the skiff out in one piece," complained Forenze. "As it is, we're gonna have to walk back to the Falcon."
The Tuskens conversed among themselves, and one of them shouted something at Vader before they disappeared over the next dune.
"What did they just say?" asked Luke.
"To wait here," Vader replied. "They will secure transportation for us."
Sure enough, the Tuskens returned a few minutes later, each astride a shaggy bantha and leading a sixth beast behind them on a tether.
"A Tusken escort," Luke said with a smile. "And I thought I'd seen everything."
Vader helped everyone mount the beasts. Leia settled down as well as she could behind her Tusken guard, who seemed oblivious to her presence.
"Mind if I sit here?" asked Han, climbing up to sit behind her.
"You'll have to ask him," she replied, pointing to the Raider.
"How'd you end up with these guys anyhow?" asked Lando, climbing aboard a second bantha.
"It's a long story," Vader replied as he and Chewie finished tying Artoo and Threepio to the back of his own mount. "I'll tell you on the way."