V
I found Luke not far from the cantina in one of Mos Eisley's market squares, a large series of streets and plazas that were all laid out under huge sandstone overhangs to protect merchants and their customers from the heat of Tatooine's two suns. He was negotiating with a broad-faced alien as I approached, but he was clearly not happy with the way the negotiations were going. I, however was more concerned about the sense I was picking up in the Force: someone was spying on us. I looked around me to see if maybe Momaw Nadon had changed his mind again, but I saw neither him nor anyone else who seemed to take an interest in us. Behind me, I heard Luke grumble, "All right, give it to me, I'll take it."
Turning around, I motioned for Luke to come quickly. He grabbed the money from his buyer, retrieved his poncho from the back of the speeder, then hurried to catch up with me as I was already moving away. "Look at this," he complained, showing me the sum he'd received. "Ever since the XP-38 came out, they just aren't in demand."
"It'll be enough," I said distractedly, picking up my pace. Someone was definitely watching us, but the marketplace was crowded and I could not determine who it was. After a moment I asked "Where are the droids?"
Luke frowned. "I haven't seen them since the cantina."
Wonderful, I thought bitterly. It isn't enough that someone is following us, now we've gone and misplaced the entire reason we're in such a desperate hurry to get off this planet in the first place.
Walking quickly through the market towards the exit nearest Chalmun's, we passed down a street lined on both sides with tall, yellow doors: storage units for the various merchants to store their supplies. As we reached the exit and were about to step into the harsh sunlight a few meters away from the cantina, a prissy voice shouted out behind us: "Oh, thank the Maker! There you are!" Luke and I stopped short and wheeled around to find Artoo and Threepio exiting one of the storage lockers and heading our way. How they got into the unit in the first place I did not know, but I had never been so glad to hear such a whiny voice in my entire life.
Luke let out a rush of air, his relief equal to mine. "Threepio, Artoo! Where have you been?"
"I'm sorry, Master Luke, some stormtroopers--"
"Never mind," I cut off the droid abruptly. The sense that I had that someone was watching us just took an even more ominous turn. The droids had been spotted. "We've no time to waste. We must be on our way." We then headed back the way we came, winding our way through the marketplace towards Docking Bay Ninety-four.
As we hurried through the market streets, I tried to choose as twisting and indirect a path as possible, but it seemed to me that we were still being followed, and as we neared Docking Bay Ninety-four, the Force told me we still had not shaken our pursuer. However, with our destination just around the corner, I begun to feel a little more at ease. Had our spy been an Imperial he surely would have confronted us by now. I leaned toward Luke and said quietly, "If the ship's as fast as he's boasting, we ought to do well."
We turned a corner and saw Chewbacca standing guard at the entrance to the docking bay, a menacing-looking bowcaster held casually in his huge furry paws. As we approached, Luke pulling his poncho over his head, Chewbacca growled a quick greeting, then ushered us into the docking bay. We trooped down a small flight of stairs and rounded a corner—and stopped short when the ship came into view.
Based on the personality of its owner, I had been expecting the Millennium Falcon to be some sort of sleek Corellian cruiser. The ship before us, however, was anything but sleek. A battered Corellian YT-1300 stock freighter, the Millennium Falcon was carbon scored and rusted in so many places it looked like it wasn't likely to lift off the ground, let alone survive a jump into hyperspace. The ship had obviously been heavily modified, although most of the exterior additions looked as if they had been grafted into place with nothing more than soorul gum and prayers.
"What a piece of junk!" Luke exclaimed in yet another hasty rush to judge appearances. I only smiled; the ship's dilapidated exterior reminded me of my own landspeeder and I suspected that like its owner, there was much more to the Millennium Falcon than meets the eye. I felt a sudden kinship for Han Solo then, and my respect for him went up a notch.
As if to confirm my thoughts, Solo, who was working under the ship's hull near the hatchway, left his work behind and started walking towards us, replying indignantly, "She'll make point-five past lightspeed. She may not look like much, but she's got it where it counts, kid. I made a lot of special modifications myself." He stopped before us. "But we're a little rushed, so if you'll just get on board, we'll get outta here."
I bowed to him politely, then followed Luke up the ramp into the ship, the droids trailing in our wake.
The ship's interior was no more impressive than its exterior; perhaps even less so because it was almost unbearably stuffy, as if the ship's more vital functions left no power available for simple comforts like climate control. I quickly removed my heavy robe and Luke took off the poncho he had just donned only minutes before, then we headed down the curved corridor in the direction I assumed would be the main passenger compartment.
That was when it all went to hell.
Apparently I had let down my guard a little too soon, because we had no sooner sat down when we could hear the sounds of blaster fire erupting outside. I leaped up from my seat, my hand reaching automatically for the lightsaber on my belt, but I did not withdraw it. Motioning for Luke to remain where he was, I hurried back toward the hatch to see if I could be of assistance. Luke, ignoring my instructions, was right behind me, but we'd only taken a few steps when Solo burst through the doorway, pausing only long enough to seal it shut behind him.
"Chewie, get us out of here!" he shouted, then bolted for the cockpit as Luke and I ran back into the passenger hold to strap in.
"Oh my, I've forgotten how much I hate space travel," Threepio moaned dolefully as the Millennium Falcon shuddered around us, pressing us back into our seats. Though irritated by the complaint, I had to agree with the sentiment. As much as I loved traveling to distant worlds, I had never much cared for the actual flying. Before I knew it, however, we were off, heading out of the atmosphere and away from Tatooine's gravitational well.
Under other circumstances, it might have been an emotional time for me, leaving behind my home of eighteen years and taking with me the boy I'd brought here as an infant. But with our somewhat less-than-furtive launch from the planet, and knowing that there were capital ships in orbit, I had no time for reminiscing. As soon as we left the turbulence of atmosphere for the comparative tranquility of space, Luke and I unbuckled our restraints and joined Solo and Chewbacca in the cockpit.
"Stay sharp, there are two more coming in, they're gonna try and cut us off," Solo was saying to his Wookiee copilot as we entered the cockpit.
"Why don't you outrun 'em? I thought you said this thing was fast," Luke scoffed, further aggravating the already contentious relationship between him and the Corellian.
"Watch your mouth, kid, or you're gonna find yourself floating home," Solo snapped back. "We'll be safe enough once we make the jump to lightspeed. Besides, I know a few maneuvers, we'll lose 'em."
The Millennium Falcon shook violently as our pursuers—Star Destroyers, I noted on the scopes—got off a few rounds. "Here's where the fun begins," Solo quipped, eerily reminiscent of Anakin who had been known to say the same thing when about to go into battle. Was that why I had so immediately liked Solo, because his bravado reminded me of Anakin? Certainly I hoped his piloting skills were similar.
"How long before you can make the jump to lightspeed?" I interjected.
Solo turned in his seat and flipped a few switches behind him. "It'll take a few moments to get the coordinates from the navicomputer." Another shot rocked the ship.
"Are you kidding, at the rate they're gaining?" Luke protested.
"Traveling through hyperspace ain't like dustin' crops, boy. Without precise calculations we'd fly right through a star or bounce too close to a supernova and that'd end your trip real quick, wouldn't it?"
The battered freighter continued to shudder under merciless fire from the Star Destroyers as bursts of light flashed before us from lasers that missed us. An alarm shrilled suddenly and a huge red indicator light in front of Chewbacca began flashing.
"What's that flashing?" Luke asked, pointing to the light.
Solo slapped his arm away. "We're losing a deflector shield. Go strap yourselves in, I'm gonna make the jump to lightspeed."
The words were barely out of his mouth when Luke was out the door with me close behind. We ran back to the passenger hold where Threepio was wailing that we were all doomed, and strapped ourselves back into our seats. We then felt a sudden lurch, and all was quiet. We'd made it into hyperspace and Tatooine was already light-years away.
The trip in hyperspace from Tatooine to Alderaan is a surprisingly short one— several hours rather than the several days one would think necessary to travel between the two, considering their distance from each other. Tatooine was in the Outer Rim, the fringes of the galaxy near wild space. Alderaan, on the other hand, was a Core World, near both the political and astronomical heart of the galaxy. However, unlike many most other planets on the Outer Rim, Tatooine was located along a major hyperspace trade route known as the Corellian Run, which was a straight line right into the Corellian system. From there, it was just a short jump along another heavily frequented route, the Corellian Trade Spine, to reach Alderaan. Because one could only travel in one direction while in hyperspace, a trip that necessitated many direction changes required frequent drops back into realspace, thus adding considerable amounts of time to the journey. With only one course adjustment required between Tatooine and Alderaan, the trip was relatively short—very fortunate, as we were in a hurry to get Artoo and the plans he carried to Bail Organa. And yet... I found myself wishing that the trip would be much longer. Days or weeks, not hours. For it was here, in the cramped main passenger compartment on a tiny YT-1300 stock freighter that Luke Skywalker began his training as a Jedi Knight. I told myself that I was being ridiculous, that whatever was begun here in these few hours would be expanded upon after we reached Alderaan and even further when I brought him to Dagobah for Yoda to train, but the feeling persisted that this trip, this two-jump journey between Tatooine and Alderaan, would be all the time I would have.
With this feeling weighing heavily on me, I lost no time and began working with Luke as soon as we had successfully evaded the Star Destroyers over Tatooine. I started by discussing some important concepts with him and giving him some rudimental meditation exercises, although Luke was impatient to try out his father's lightsaber. Sternly I warned him about the dangers of being impetuous and restless, lessons in which I was very well versed if only because Yoda and Qui-Gon had been forced to repeat them to me so very many times. Although Luke was an extremely bright and eager student, he was very old for a novice—an adult, really—and already had some firmly established beliefs about how the universe worked. This is one of the reasons that in the days of the Old Republic, potential Jedi were taken from their homes as infants or toddlers, so that the Masters could teach them the ways of the Force from the beginning. Circumstances had prevented Luke from having this kind of life-long immersion in the Force, so although he had without a doubt the most innate talent I'd ever encountered in a life form—with the possible exception of his father—Luke had many beliefs and habits that had to be unlearned before he could even begin to feel the most elementary connection with the Force. To Luke's dismay, this meant spending the bulk of the journey relearning how to see and feel rather than engaging in the more exciting diversion of lightsaber exercises.
Between Tatooine and Corellia, Solo wandered in and out of the room, sometimes busying himself with various ship duties, but often taking a moment to listen to what I was explaining or watch what Luke was doing, then snort or roll his eyes in derision. It was clear that Han Solo had no use for the Force and that with every word I slid further down in his estimation. The few times I allowed Luke to take a break from our intensive study, however, Solo engaged him in a quick hand of sabaac or a round of dejarik and the antagonism that characterized their earlier interactions began to evaporate. I suspected that despite himself, the cynical Corellian was actually developing a fondness for the boy. I suppose this should have concerned me in that he was a smuggler and a criminal wont to negate everything I was trying to teach Luke, but again I got that sense of rightness about Solo, so I did nothing to discourage their budding friendship.
As we neared Corellia, Solo and Chewbacca returned to the cockpit and Luke and I strapped ourselves in for the jump back into realspace, which came about in short order. We had no sooner come out of hyperspace when I began to sense something wrong. When we did not return to hyperspace after the amount of time I would expect for the necessary calculations for the trip to Alderaan, I began to worry. Something was definitely wrong. Unstrapping myself I made my way towards the cockpit, Luke following behind me. There we found Solo engaged in a tense conversation with someone from another ship.
"What is it?" I asked, concerned.
Solo flipped off his communication channel. "Imperial checkpoint. They're doing random checks on freighters changing course in the Corellian system. I fed them a fake ship ID, but I don't think they're going for it."
"What do we do if they don't 'go for it'?" Luke asked nervously.
"Take it easy, kid," Solo said boldly, "it's only a couple of light cruisers, Carrack-class. Nothing we can't outrun."
The comm unit crackled and a voice filled the cabin: "Your identification is not valid. Please shut down your engines and prepare to be boarded."
"Boarded my... Chewie! Punch it!" Chewbacca roared in agreement and Solo turned back to us. "You two get back in the passenger hold."
As over Tatooine, we obeyed quickly and left the Corellian and the Wookiee to their work. Fortunately for us, although Carrack-class cruisers were fast, Solo's boasts about the Falcon's speed and "special modifications" proved to be at least somewhat accurate. He had little trouble evading the small ships, which had evidently not been prepared for such a battered freighter to even attempt to make a run for it, and before long we were safely in hyperspace on our final leg of our journey to Alderaan.
Not long after we made it back into hyperspace, Chewbacca entered the passenger compartment and informed me that we were safely away from Corellia and could return to our exercises. Unlike his partner, I sensed no contempt from Chewbacca regarding the Force or the Jedi practices, confirming my initial suspicious about his esteem for the Jedi. Something in Chewbacca's bearing told me that he approved of my training Luke in the Jedi arts. Quietly—if one can ever accuse a Wookiee of doing anything quietly—he made his way to the dejarik table and challenged the droids to a game, allowing Luke and I to resume our exercises.
Rising from my seat, I withdrew a small remote from the pack at my belt. "Get your lightsaber," I instructed Luke.
He didn't even try to disguise the excitement in his eyes as he reached for his lightsaber—Anakin's lightsaber—and activated it. Thumbing on the remote's power switch, I tossed the small sphere into the air and it hovered around Luke like an angry insect. "Your goal," I explained as Luke eyed the device with interest, "is to defend yourself. You are not to attack the remote. Just reach out to it with the Force to determine when and where it will strike and use your lightsaber to block the blasts."
I briefly demonstrated a basic Form One guard and a few simple parries, then Luke moved into a very good imitation of my guard position. I was pleased to note he had a somewhat natural feel for the lightsaber and seemed like he would be inclined toward the Soresu form like myself rather than the more kinetic Djem So his father had favored. He watched the ball warily as it moved slowly back and forth before him. Suddenly, it made a sharp movement to Luke's left and shot a small electrical charge at him. Luke managed to avoid getting hit despite the fact that he was not able to get his lightsaber in position to block. The remote then darted in for another quick jab, and Luke was able to deflect this with his blade, but just barely. A few more rounds and it looked like he might be getting into the flow, when the remote swooped in and let out another blast, hitting Luke in the forearm. The boy yelped in pain and for a minute I thought he was going to lunge at the thing in return, but he caught himself in time, remembering my instructions to defend only, and resumed guard position as the sphere floated back and forth before him tauntingly.
I stood near him, watching, and was about to make a suggestion when the words died in my throat. Without warning, the Force exploded around me, a massive wave of energy that slammed into me with the force of a Star Destroyer ramming a starfighter. It assailed every one of my senses: heat and fire, blinding light, the bone-chilling wail of millions upon millions of life forms shrieking in agony, the taste of blood, the smell of death. Whereas Owen's death had been close and personal, a single blaster shot to the heart, this was a thermal detonator going off five hundred meters away. It knocked the breath out of me and made me so nauseous I thought I might vomit. Clutching my chest, I staggered over to a stool that was situated at the edge of the room and lowered myself carefully into it. After what seemed like hours but was more likely only a few seconds, it all started to slowly recede—all but the sound of screaming, which stopped abruptly and was replaced with so complete a silence it was somehow worse.
As the images gradually gave way to the more tangible reality of the Millennium Falcon around me, I realized Luke was at my side, his face etched with concern. Had he at all sensed what had just happened or was it merely worry for me?
"Are you all right? What's wrong?" Luke was saying.
I swallowed hard and tried to regain my breath. How could I describe what had just happened? "I felt a great disturbance in the Force," I said, understating it greatly, "as if millions of voices suddenly cried out in terror and were suddenly silenced. I feel something terrible has happened." I wiped my brow as if that could wipe the images away, then tried to shake off the hollow dread that surrounded me. Don't center on your anxiety, Obi-Wan, I could hear Qui-Gon's voice reminding me. Keep your concentration on the here and now. Be mindful of the living Force. "You'd better get on with your exercises," I prompted Luke. Still troubled by my behavior, Luke nevertheless followed my instructions while I rested my forehead in my hand and attempted to ease the residual throbbing in my mind.
As Luke crossed back to the center of the room to resume his practice with the remote, Han Solo swaggered in. "Well, you can forget your troubles with those Imperial slugs. I told you I'd outrun them."
Ignoring Solo, I focused back in on Luke as the pounding in my brain finally dulled. Luke reactivated his lightsaber and the remote attacked, but this time he was able to successfully—if somewhat awkwardly—block two blasts. Solo sat down in a chair beside me and mumbled indignantly, "Don't everyone thank me at once." When that likewise failed to engender a response, he went on, "Anyway, we should be at Alderaan about oh-two-hundred hours."
Such a short while from now, I thought with regret, dreading the conclusion of our trip together. I watched Luke, savoring these moments with him, willing time to slow down as he continued to practice. The droids and Chewbacca got into some argument over their game, which distracted Luke and his defenses became even more clumsy as his focus turned outward.
"Remember, a Jedi can feel the Force flowing through him," I reminded him.
"You mean it controls your actions?" he asked without taking his eyes off the remote. He was watching it too closely, seeing it with his eyes rather than feeling it, I noted.
"Partially, but it also obeys your commands." The remote darted in and let out another blast, this time catching Luke completely off guard and hitting him in his backside. Han Solo let out a jeering laugh.
"Hokey religions and ancient weapons are no match for a good blaster at your side, kid."
Taking Solo's bait, Luke shut down his lightsaber. "You don't believe in the Force, do you?"
Solo rolled his eyes. "Kid, I've flown from one side of this galaxy to the other, I've seen a lot of strange stuff, but I've never seen anything to make me believe there's one all-powerful Force controlling everything." I chuckled, amused by his cynicism, which so characterized this generation. I can't see it, can't feel it, so it can't be real. "There's no mystical energy field controls my destiny," he asserted smugly, "it's all a lot of simple tricks and nonsense."
I slapped my hands on my lap and got up, rising to Solo's challenge. "I suggest you try it again, Luke." Hanging behind me on a wall was a battered flight helmet with a completely opaque blast shield. Pulling it off its peg I took it over to Luke. "This time, let go your conscious self and act on instinct." I then placed the helmet squarely on Luke's head, blast shield in place before his eyes.
Luke snickered in disbelief. "With the blast shield down I can't even see. How am I supposed to fight?"
"Your eyes can deceive you, don't trust them," I told him simply.
Luke thumbed on his lightsaber and went into guard stance once more, but it was obvious he was not depending on the Force to guide him, but rather was trying to track the remote with his ears instead of his eyes. This was no help whatsoever and the very first blast caught him in the hip. Luke grimaced in frustration.
"Stretch out with your feelings."
This time he took a deep breath and I could see his whole bearing relax and for the first time since he began working with the remote, he seemed calm and at ease. Aha! He's feeling the Force now, I thought with some satisfaction. The remote moved about him, but Luke was in tune with it now, and when it lashed out with three bolts in a row, Luke blocked them with swift and precise thrusts of his lightsaber. Soresu thrusts, I couldn't help but note with smug satisfaction.
"See, you can do it," I told him warmly as he shut down his weapon and took off the helmet. His face glowed with pride.
"I call it luck," Solo snorted from his corner.
I looked over my shoulder at him. "In my experience there's no such thing as luck."
"Look, good against remotes is one thing," he argued. "Good against the living? That's something else." A proximity alarm then beeped insistently and Solo got up. "Looks like we're coming up on Alderaan." He headed off towards the cockpit with Chewbacca following him.
Luke, undaunted by Solo's jibes, came up beside me. "You know, I did feel something. I could almost see the remote."
I beamed. "That's good! You've taken your first step into a larger world." But as we strapped into our seats for the jump back into normal space, the pride I felt at Luke's accomplishment gave way to melancholy: it was Luke's first real accomplishment under my tutelage, but somehow I sensed that it would also be the last.