He cannot do this often, only at the key moments in Luke’s journey, when a misstep might spell doom, not only for Luke, but for any hope of bringing balance back to the Force and freedom to the people of the galaxy.
And this, he senses, is the most critical moment of all.
LUKE STEPS AWAY from the repair work without ever really seeing it.
“I can’t do it, Artoo. I can’t go on alone.”
And then he hears a familiar voice.
“Yoda will always be with you.”
“Obi-Wan!” calls Luke and looks up to see his old master, there but not there, a figure not of flesh and bone, but simply of the Force.
At first relieved, Luke quickly recalls his anger.
“Why didn’t you tell me? You told me Vader betrayed and murdered my father!”
Obi-Wan looks away. He understands Luke’s feelings, but knows they are dangerous. He must choose his words carefully as he explains himself.
“Your father was seduced by the dark side of the Force. He ceased to be Anakin Skywalker and became Darth Vader. When that happened, the good man who was your father was destroyed. So what I have told you was true…from a certain point of view.”
“‘A certain point of view,’” protests Luke. He was lied to for his entire life about this one, all-important fact, and now he’s told that it was really the truth?
“Luke, you’re going to find that many of the truths we cling to depend greatly on our own point of view.”
Luke says nothing.
“Anakin was a good friend,” Obi-Wan continues. “When I first knew him, your father was already a great pilot. But I was amazed how strongly the Force was with him. I took it upon myself to train him as a Jedi. I thought that I could instruct him just as well as Yoda. I was wrong.”
Here Obi-Wan pauses, not wishing to tell Luke just how wrong he was about Anakin and just how out of control Anakin became, slaying his fellow Jedi—even younglings—and relentlessly trying to slay Obi-Wan himself.
“There is still good in him,” says Luke.
Obi-Wan hears this with great pain. Luke is making the same mistake that both he and Yoda made with Anakin, underestimating the dark side’s power over him.
“He’s more machine now than man. Twisted and evil,” says Obi-Wan, again hiding the truth. It was he himself who nearly destroyed the man, leaving just barely enough for the Emperor to rebuild into Darth Vader.
Which truths to tell and which to hide? Sometimes even one as wise as Obi-Wan fails at choosing the right ones. And he feels he is failing Luke now.
Like Yoda, Obi-Wan feels fear—fear that Vader’s grip on Luke is already tightening.
“Luke, you must understand. When you face Vader again you must see him as the evil that destroyed your father and so many others. And you must stop him before he destroys yet more. Before he destroys you.”
“I can’t do it, Ben.”
“You cannot escape your destiny. You must face Darth Vader again.”
“I can’t kill my own father!”
“Then the Emperor has already won,” murmurs Obi-Wan. “You were our only hope.”
“Yoda spoke of another,” suggests Luke.
“The other he spoke of is your twin sister.”
“But I have no sister.”
“Hmmm. To protect you from the Emperor, you were hidden from your father when you were born. The Emperor knew, as I did, if Anakin were to have any offspring, they would be a threat to him. That is the reason why your sister remains safely anonymous.”
But not anonymous to Luke, who finally understands…
“Leia! Leia’s my sister,” says Luke, instantly recognizing the truth, as if it has never been quite hidden from him at all.
“Your insight serves you well,” says Obi-Wan. “Bury your feelings deep down, Luke. They do you credit. But they could be made to serve the Emperor.”
Luke looks away, across the swamp into the mist and murk. His mind, however, is clearing.
“What about my mother? Who was she? What happened—”
“No, Luke,” says Obi-Wan. “Let that truth stay with me for now. You carry too many burdens already.”
Luke starts to argue, but sees the pain in his old master’s face and simply nods.
Obi-Wan considers Luke. He cannot see the future as well as Yoda could, but he does sense that Luke will not be able to bury his feelings.
But, just as Yoda did, Obi-Wan wonders if, perhaps, that might not be a failing after all.
Obi-Wan and Yoda and Qui-Gon, too, were masters of the Force. They buried their feelings and used the Force at its fullest power.
And they failed to stop the Emperor. They didn’t even stop Anakin.
Perhaps Luke’s feelings really will serve him.
But if not…all will be lost.
Obi-Wan can sense his strength growing weak. He cannot bend the laws of nature any further. He must go.
It will be up to Luke now, he realizes. As he fades out of Luke’s world and back into the Force, he says the only thing that is left to say.
“Luke, the Force will be with you…always.”
WHILE LUKE STRUGGLES to find direction, Emperor Palpatine moves with full confidence.
He arrives by shuttle at his new Death Star to find hundreds of stormtroopers lined up to honor him. Think of the resources—the food, the equipment, the money—that it takes to keep so many soldiers on board a space station. And their only job, their only purpose today, is to honor this Dark Lord of the Sith.
And the Dark Lord of the Sith ignores them. They are his tools. He will use them when he needs them, but for now he need not trouble himself about them.
The mastermind behind this epic construction project, Moff Jerjerrod, is there also, bowing before the Emperor.
Palpatine ignores him, too. For weeks, Jerjerrod has exhausted himself and his army of construction workers, driven by the fear of this moment. And now his reward is to be ignored. And Jerjerrod is thankful, very thankful, for this reward. He has not displeased the Emperor and that is enough.
Darth Vader bows, too. And the Emperor does not ignore this. This is the one honor that pleases him. It pleases him to see such a powerful being bow before him.
And, just as Jabba might have tossed a scrap of food to Salacious Crumb, the Emperor treats his apprentice to a tiny morsel of false flattery.
“Rise, my friend.”
Vader obeys and follows the Emperor toward the elevators that will carry them to the just-finished throne room.1
“The Death Star will be completed on schedule,” Vader reports.
“You have done well, Lord Vader,” replies the Emperor, his voice croaking out from deep within the black hood that hides his hideous face, a face warped by a lifetime of cunning and hatred.
“And now I sense you wish to continue your search for young Skywalker.”
“Yes, my master,” replies Vader, eager for his master’s permission.
“Patience, my friend. In time he will seek you out. And when he does, you must bring him before me. He has grown strong. Only together can we turn him to the dark side of the Force.”
This was not the answer Vader had longed for. Patience! For a second a memory sprang up of his days in the Jedi Temple, hearing Yoda preach the same thing. Vader has no more patience, but he does have obedience.
“As you wish,” he says with a slight bow.
“Everything is proceeding as I have foreseen.”
And here the Emperor laughs.
Jabba’s chuckle was hideous, but the Emperor’s laugh is far worse. The things that please the Emperor’s mind are too terrible to contemplate.
Vader does not laugh with him. Vader never laughs. Has never laughed. Not since he was Anakin. And that is a time he dares not remember.
ON THE EDGE OF THE GALAXY, many parsecs from any Imperial star system, the rebel fleet has gathered near the planet Sullust.
They’ve given up on maintaining a base on land. This is all t
hat’s left, a handful of strange, patched-together starships, a few partial squadrons of fighters, and, of course, the Millennium Falcon.
All the pilots have assembled on the flagship to hear from Mon Mothma, the brave leader of the Rebel Alliance.
She’s been through so much. She was a weary veteran long before Han and Luke joined up. And now she knows that the long star wars are coming to an end. She plans to commit all of the rebel fleet to one last attack. If they win, they will have cut the head off the great beast and won freedom for her own people and the rest of the galaxy.
But if they lose…they will lose everything.
Mothma is not a gambler like Han Solo, though. She is sensible, always sensible. She is taking this course because she believes the rebels can win. But it must be now or never. All or nothing.
“The Emperor has made a critical error and the time for our attack has come,” she announces.
The pilots sit up and listen. They had expected another delay or, worse, another retreat. Never this.
Mon Mothma explains: “The data brought to us by the Bothan spies pinpoints the exact location of the Emperor’s new battle station. With the Imperial fleet spread throughout the galaxy in a vain effort to engage us, it is relatively unprotected…and not yet operational.”
Now the pilots are on the edges of their seats.
“Most important of all,” continues Mon Mothma, “we’ve learned that the Emperor himself is personally overseeing the final stages of the construction of this Death Star. Many Bothan spies died to bring us this information.”
The Emperor a helpless target on a defenseless space station? It sounds almost too good to be true. Ah, but it won’t be that easy. Mon Mothma calls up Admiral Ackbar, veteran of countless starship battles, to explain the details.
“You can see here the Death Star orbiting the forest moon of Endor,” says Ackbar as a holographic map of the Endor planetary system appears. “Although the weapon systems on this Death Star are not yet operational, the Death Star does have a strong defense mechanism. It is protected by an energy shield, which is generated from the nearby forest moon of Endor.”
Aha, think the pilots, we knew there was a catch.
“The shield must be deactivated if any attack is to be attempted. Once the shield is down, our cruisers will create a perimeter while the fighters fly into the Death Star’s superstructure and attempt to knock out the main reactor. General Calrissian has volunteered to lead the fighter attack.”
Han Solo looks at Lando and raises an eyebrow. He hates to admit it, but he’s impressed.
“Good luck,” he says, then mutters under his breath, “You’re going to need it.”
Lando doesn’t mention that he’s hoping for something more than just luck…he’s planning to ask Han Solo to borrow his beloved Millennium Falcon for the Death Star raid.
But now General Madine is outlining the plan for getting rid of the Death Star’s defenses.
“The shield generator is, of course, protected by its own shield. Even if we could get our starfighters close enough, they’d have little chance of knocking it out. However, the moon itself is covered by a thick forest. Perfect for a stealth mission.”
“Sounds dangerous,” comments C-3PO, unaware that he’ll be part of the mission.
Madine continues. “You may have heard that Nien Nunb recently stole a small Imperial shuttle from an Imperial base.”
He gestures to a strange-looking pilot sitting next to Lando. Nien Nunb, one of the few non-human pilots in the Rebel Alliance, beams with pride. There’s a murmur of congratulations in the room, but they all know they are not here to celebrate.
“This shuttle has been disguised as a cargo ship,” says Madine. “A strike team will fly the shuttle to the forest moon using a secret Imperial code to get past any Star Destroyers patrolling the area. After landing, they will proceed through the forest, locate the shield generator, and destroy it with thermal detonators.”
“I wonder who they found to pull that off,” Leia murmurs to Han.
“General Solo will lead this prong of the attack,” says Madine.
This time it’s Lando who raises an eyebrow. This plan sounds risky even for Solo: there are sure to be plenty of Imperial troops guarding the generator.
“Solo, is your strike team assembled?”
“Yes, General,” replies Solo.
“HRGGGGRRR!” roars Chewbacca.
“Okay, okay, you can come, too,” says Han. “I didn’t want to speak for you.”
“WRRGHH!”
“Count me in,” says Leia.
Han starts to argue but changes his mind. First of all, Leia would be a great addition to the team. And second, he sees the determined look in her eyes and knows she’s coming anyway.
“I’m with you, too!”
It’s Luke Skywalker, bounding through a doorway to join the briefing. His friends are happy to see him back again so soon, and all the rebels are glad to see the hero of the Battle of Yavin return for such an important mission.
Leia jumps up to welcome him and instantly realizes something has changed since she last saw him.
“Luke, what is it?” she whispers.
“Ask me again later,” Luke tells her, both longing to tell her that she is his sister and dreading the other horrible revelation he must deliver: that she is the daughter of Darth Vader.
But he’s quickly distracted by the welcome from his other friends, Han, Chewie, Lando, and even his old pilot buddy Wedge.1
Meanwhile, C-3PO has been reunited with R2, who lets out a merry string of beeps.
“Hmmph. Exciting is hardly the word I would use,” says C-3PO.
OUR HEROES seem rather cheerful about rushing off on what their old friend Obi-Wan would have called a damn fool mission.
C-3PO’s attitude is far more sensible. But, of course, it was acting sensibly that got the galaxy into this mess in the first place.
Faced with various enemies—The Separatists! Robot armies! Rogue Jedi!—planet after planet had very sensibly allowed the fairly democratic Republic to become the Empire, ruled by the will of a single man.
And by the time some discovered that this sensible man they had chosen was behind the Separatists, the robot armies, and the rogue-est Jedi of them all, Anakin Skywalker, it was all too late and the whole galaxy was made to suffer for a generation.
So we can’t blame our heroes for not being sensible.
But for a rebellion to succeed in overthrowing all that the Emperor wrought, some sensibility is required. Someone has to make sensible plans. The greatest star pilots still need a working, fueled-up ship to fly in. The bravest commandos need ammo, camo, and a canteen full of water. And if these heroes are successful, then someone needs to be ready to bring order to the resulting chaos.
For the Rebellion, Mon Mothma has been that sensible figure for years. Brave enough to stand up to Palpatine while he was grasping for power and smart enough to know when politics and diplomacy were useless and the time for rebellion had come.
And now she has a tough job to do. She must try to talk some sense into Princess Leia, the daughter of her old friend, Senator Bail Organa.1
You’ll recall that Han had considered objecting to Leia coming on the mission. But he didn’t dare say so. Mothma, as I’ve said, is a very brave woman.
“Leia, I know you want to be part of this great adventure with your friends, but the danger is too great.”
“You said the same thing about our plans on Tatooine!”
“Yes, and I’ve since heard how close we came to losing you. Swinging from one ship to another over some sort of sand pit? Really, Leia? Don’t you realize how important you are to the Republic we will rebuild someday?”
“But that’s exactly what I’m fighting for! What’s the use of preparing for a Republic that will never exist if this mission fails.”
“No, Leia, we can’t think like that. If this mission fails, then the Rebellion must go on. The rebel fleet, the rebel ar
my…they’ll be gone. But the rebel spirit will still exist. All across the galaxy. There must be someone to kindle that fire.”
“But you…”
“Ah, yes, it’s always me, Leia. It’s always me. I’m always the one that stays behind….”
Mothma turns and looks out the window. The ragtag rebel fleet is swarming with activity. Fuel ships, repair ships, supply ships, troop ships, the medical frigate, and what’s left of the starfighters: X-wings, Y-wings, A-wings, B-wings, zipping in and out, up and down…preparing for an all-out assault on the new Death Star.
All but one ship. Mothma’s ship. It is fueled up and standing by, ready to take her somewhere else, somewhere safe.
“I trained as a fighter pilot once, you know,” she tells Leia. “It was after the Empire’s massacre on Kashyyyk.2 When I knew diplomacy was dead, I was ready to fight, just like you are now.”
This gets Leia’s attention. Mothma has always seemed like a friendly old aunt to her, not a fighter pilot.
“Did you…?”
“No. Some people thought I was afraid, and in a way I was. I was afraid of not doing my best for the Rebellion. If I had gone into battle, I might have gotten off a shot, maybe even a lucky shot. I might have helped win the day. But I more likely would have been blasted out of the sky. Something told me I could do much more…and I have and I plan to keep on…but I can’t do it forever. Leia, the new Republic is going to need you just as much as this rebellion does.”
“Mothma, I understand. And I will be there for the Republic. But just as something told you to stay out of that battle, something tells me to step into this one. I can’t explain it. It just feels like it’s…”
“Your destiny.”
“Yes!”
“Yes, I know. And I understand,” says Mothma, embracing Leia. “But, for your parents’ sake, since they are no longer here to guide you, I felt I had to try to talk you out of it.”
THE EMPEROR has called for his servant, and Darth Vader has come to the Death Star’s immense throne room to receive his orders.
To approach the Emperor’s throne, visitors must cross a narrow bridge over a vast chasm. If they dare peer over the edge they will see, a mile below, the terrible glow of the space station’s main reactor.
Beware the Power of the Dark Side! Page 7