It was an old settler's saying that you could burn your eyes out faster by staring

straight and hard at the sun-scorched flatlands of Tatooine than by looking directly at

its two huge suns themselves, so powerful was the penetrating glare reflected from

those endless wastes. Despite the flare, life could and did exist in the flatlands

formed by long-evaporated seabeds. One thing made it possible: the reintroduction

of water.

For human purposes, however, the water of Tatooine was only marginally

accessible. The atmosphere yielded its moisture with reluctance. It had to be

coaxed down out of the hard blue sky—coaxed, forced, yanked down to the parched

surface. Two figures whose concern was obtaining that moisture were standing on a

slight rise of one of those inhospitable flats. One of the pair was stiff and metallic—

a sand-pitted vaporator sunk securely through sand and into deeper rock. The figure

next to it was a food deal more animated, though no less sun-weathered.

Luke Skywalker was twice the age of the ten-year-old vaporator, but much less

secure. At the moment he was swearing softly at a recalcitrant valve adjuster on the

temperamental device. From time to time he resorted to some unsubtle pounding in

place of using the appropriate tool. Neither method worked very well. Luke was

sure that the lubricants used on the vaporator went out of their way to attract sand,

beckoning seductively to small abrasive particles with an oily gleam. He wiped

sweat from his forehead and leaned back for a moment. The most prepossessing

thing about the young man was his name. A light breeze tugged at his shaggy hair

and baggy work tunic as he regarded the device. No point in staying angry at it, he

counseled himself. It's only an unintelligent machine.

As Luke considered his predicament, a third figure appeared, scooting out from

behind the vaporator to fumble awkwardly at the damaged section. Only three of the

Treadwell model robot's six arms were functioning, and these had seen more wear

than the boots on Luke's feet. The machine moved with unsteady stop-and-start

motions.

Luke gazed at it sadly, then inclined his head to study the sky. Still no sign of a

cloud, and he knew there never would be unless he got that vaporator working. He

was about to try once again when a small, intense gleam of light caught his eye.

Quickly he slipped the carefully cleaned set of macrobinoculars from his utility belt

and focused the lenses skyward.

For long moments he stared, wishing all the while that he had a real telescope

instead of the binocs. As he stared, vaporators, the heat, and the day's remaining

chores were forgotten. Clipping the binoculars back onto his belt, Luke turned and

dashed for the landspeeder. Halfway to the vehicle he thought to call behind him.

"Hurry up," he shouted impatiently. "What are you waiting for? Get it in

gear."

The Treadwell started toward him, hesitated, and then commenced spinning in a

tight circle, smoke belching from every joint. Luke shouted further instruction, then

finally gave up in disgust when he realized that it would take more than words to

motivate the Treadwell again.

For a moment Luke hesitated at leaving the machine behind—but, he argued to

himself, its vital components were obviously shot. So he jumped into the

landspeeder, causing the recently repaired repulsion floater to list alarmingly to one

side until he was able to equalize weight distribution by sliding behind the controls.

Maintaining its altitude slightly above the sandy ground, the light-duty transport

vehicle steadied itself like a boat in a heavy sea. Luke gunned the engine, which

whined in protest, and sand erupted behind the floater as he aimed the craft toward the

distant town of Anchorhead.

Behind him, a pitiful beacon of black smoke from the burning robot continued to

rise into the clear desert air. It wouldn't be there when Luke returned. There were

scavengers of metal as well as flesh in the wide wastes of Tatooine.

Metal and stone structures bleached white by the glaze of twin Tatoo I and II

huddled together tightly, for company as much as for protection. They formed the

nexus of the widespread farming community of Anchorhead.

Presently the dusty, unpaved streets were quiet, deserted. Sandflies buzzed

lazily in the cracked eaves of pourstone building. A dog barked in the distance, the

sole sign of habitation until a lone old woman appeared and started across the street.

Her metallic sun shawl was pulled tight around her.

Something made her look up, tired eyes squinting into the distance. The sound

suddenly leaped in volume as a shining rectangular shape came roaring around a far

corner. Her eyes popped as the vehicle bore down on her, showing no sign of

altering its path. She had to scramble to get out of its way.

Panting and waving an angry fist after the landspeeder, she raised her voice over

the sound of its passage. "Won't you kids ever learn to slow down!"

Luke might have seen her, but he certainly didn't hear her. In both cases his

attention was focused elsewhere as he pulled up behind a low, long concrete station.

Various coils and rods jutted from its top and sides. Tatooine's relentless sand waves

broke in frozen yellow spume against the station's walls. No one had bothered to

clear them away. There was no point. They would only return again the following

day.

Luke slammed the front door aside and shouted, "Hey!"

A rugged young man in mechanic's dress sat sprawled in a chair behind the

station's unkempt control desk. Sunscreen oil had kept his skin from burning. The

skin of the girl on his lap had been equally protected, and there was a great deal more

of the protected area in view. Somehow even dried sweat looked good on her.

"Hey, everybody!" Luke yelled again, having elicited something less than an

overwhelming response with his first cry. He ran toward the instrument room at the

rear of the station while the mechanic, half asleep, ran a hand across his face and

mumbled, "Did I hear a young noise blast through here?"

The girl on his lap stretched sensuously, her well-worn clothing tugging in

various intriguing directions. Her voice was casually throaty. "Oh," she yawned,

"that was just Wormie on one of his rampages."

Deak and Windy looked up from the computer-assisted pool game as Luke burst

into the room. They were dressed much like Luke, although their clothing was of

better fit and somewhat less exercised.

All three youths contrasted strikingly with the burly handsome player at the far

side of the table. From neatly clipped hair to his precision-cut uniform he stood out

in the room like an Oriental poppy in a sea of oats. Behind the three humans a soft

hum came from where a repair robot was working patiently on a broken piece of

station equipment.

"Shape it up, you guys," Luke yelled excitedly. Then he noticed the older man

in the uniform. The subject of his suddenly startled gaze recognized him

simultaneously.

"Biggs!"

The man's face twisted in a half grin. "Hello, Luke." Then they were

embracing each other warmly.

Luke finally stood away, openly admiring the other's uniform. "I didn't know

you were back. When did you get in?"

The confidence in the other's voice bordered the realm of smugness without

quite entering it. "Just a little while ago. I wanted to surprise you, hotshot." He

indicated the room. "I thought you'd be here with these other two nightcrawlers."

Deak and Windy both smiled. "I certainly didn't expect you to be out working."

He laughed easily, a laugh few people found resistible.

"The academy didn't change you much," Luke commented. "But you're back

so soon." His expression grew concerned. "Hey, what happened—didn't you get

your commission?"

There was something evasive about Biggs as he replied, looking slightly away,

"Of course I got it. Signed to serve aboard the freighter Rand Ecliptic just last week.

First Mate Biggs Darklighter, at your service." He performed a twisting salute, half

serious and half humorous, then grinned that over bearing yet ingratiating grin again.

"I just came back to say good-bye to all you unfortunate landlocked simpletons."

They all laughed, until Luke suddenly remembered what had brought him here in such

hurry.

"I almost forgot," he told them, his initial excitement returning, "there's a battle

going on right here in our system. Come and look."

Deak looked disappointed. "Not another one of your epic battles, Luke.

Haven't you dreamed up enough of them? Forget it."

"Forget it, hell—I'm serious. It's a battle, all right."

With words and shoves he managed to cajole the occupants of the station out into

the strong sunlight. Camie in particular looked disgusted.

"This had better be worth it, Luke," she warned him, shading her eyes against the

glare.

Luke already had his macrobinoculars out and was searching the heavens. It

took only a moment for him to fix on a particular spot. "I told you," he insisted.

"There they are."

Biggs moved alongside him and reached for the binoculars as the other strained

unaided eyes. A slight readjustment provided just enough magnification for Biggs to

out two silvery specks against the dark blue.

"That's no battle, hotshot," he decided, lowering the binocs and regarding his

friend gently. "They're just sitting there. Two ships, all right—probably a barge

loading a freighter, since Tatooine hasn't got an orbital station."

"There was a lot of firing—earlier," Luke added. His initial enthusiasm was

beginning to falter under the withering assurance of his older friend.

Camie grabbed the binoculars away from Biggs, banging them slightly against a

support pillar in the process. Luke took them away from her quickly, inspecting the

casing for damage. "Take it easy with those."

"Don't worry so much, Wormie." She sneered. Luke took a step toward her,

then halted as the huskier mechanic easily interposed himself between them and

favored Luke with a warning smile. Luke considered, shrugged the incident away.

"I keep telling you, Luke," the mechanic said, with the air of a man tired of

repeating the same story to no avail, "the rebellion is a long way from here. I doubt

if the Empire would fight to keep this system. Believe me, Tatooine is a big hunk of

nothing."

His audience began to fade back into the station before Luke could mutter a reply.

Fixer had his arm around Camie, and the two of them were chuckling over Luke's

ineptitude. Even Deak and Windy were murmuring among themselves—about him,

Luke was certain.

He followed them, but not without a last glance back and up to the distant specks.

One thing he was sure of were the flashes of light he had seen between the two ships.

They hadn't been caused by the suns of Tatooine reflecting off metal.

The binding that locked the girl's hands behind her back was primitive and

effective. The constant attention the squad of heavily armed troopers favored her

with might have been out of place for one small female, except for the fact that their

lives depended on her being delivered safely.

When she deliberately slowed her pace, however, it became apparent that her

captors did not mind mistreating her a little. One of the armored figures shoved her

brutally in the small of the back, and she nearly fell. Turning, she gave the offending

soldier a vicious look. But she could not tell if it had any effect, since the man's face

was completely hidden by his armored helmet.

The hallway they eventually emerged into was still smoking around the edges of

the smoldering cavity blasted through the hull of the fighter. A portable accessway

had been sealed to it and a circlet of light showed at the far end of the tunnel, bridging

space between the rebel craft and the cruiser. A shadow moved over her as she

turned from inspecting the accessway, startling her despite her usually unshakable

self-control.

Above her toward the threatening bulk of Darth Vader, red eyes glaring behind

the hideous breath mask. A muscle twitched in one smooth cheek, but other than

that the girl didn't react. Nor was there the slightest shake in her voice.

"Darth Vader…I should have known. Only you would be so bold—and so

stupid. Well, the Imperial Senate will not sit still for this. When they hear that you

have attacked a diplomatic miss—"

"Senator Leia Organa," Vader rumbled softly, though strongly enough to

override her protests. His pleasure at finding her was evident in the way he savored

every syllable.

"Don't play games with me, Your Highness," he continued ominously. "You

aren't on any mercy mission this time. You passed directly through a restricted

system, ignoring numerous warnings and completely disregarding orders to turn

about—until it no longer mattered."

The huge metal skull dipped close. "I know that several transmissions were

beamed to this vessel by spies within that system. When we traced those

transmissions back to the individuals with whom they originated; they had the poor

grace to kill themselves before they could be questioned. I want to know what

happened to the data they sent you."

Neither Vader's words nor his inimical presence appeared to have any effect on

the girl. "I don't know what you're blathering about," she snapped, looking away

from him. "I'm a member of the Senate on a diplomatic mission to—"

"To your part of the rebel alliance," Vader declared, cutting her off accusingly.

"You're also a traitor." His gaze went to a nearby officer. "Take her away."

She succeeded in reaching him with her spit, which hissed against still-hot battle

armor. He wiped the offensive matter away silently, watching her with interest as

she was marched through the accessway into the cruiser.

A tall, slim soldier wearing the sign of an Imperial Commander attracted Vader's

attention as he came up next to him. "Holding her is dangerous," he ventured,

likewise looking after her as she was escorted toward the cruiser. "If word of this

does get out, there will be much unrest in the Senate. It will generate sympathy for

the rebels." The Commander looked up at the unreadable metal face, then added in

an off-handed manner, "She should be destroyed immediately."

"No. My first duty is to locate that hidden fortress of theirs," Vader replied

easily. "All the rebel spies have been eliminated—by our hand or by their own.

Therefore she is now my only key to discovering its location. I intend to make full

use of her. If necessary, I will use her up—but I will learn the location of the rebel

base."

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