"Mistress Leia has been trying to reach you on the communicator," Threepio

informed him. "It must be malfunctioning."

But Han knew that it was not. "I shut it off," he said sharply as he continued to

work on his ship. "What does her royal holiness want?"

Threepio's auditory sensors identified the disdain in Han's voice but did not

understand it. The robot mimicked a human gesture as he added, "She is looking for

Master Luke and assumed he would be here with you. No one seems to know—"

"Luke's not back yet?" Immediately Han became concerned. He could see

that the sky beyond the ice cavern entrance had grown considerably darker since he

and Chewbacca had begun to repair the Millennium Falcon. Han knew just how

severely the temperatures dropped on the surface after nightfall and how deadly the

winds could be.

In a flash he jumped off the Falcon's lift, not even looking back toward the

Wookiee. "Bolt it down, Chewie. Officer of the Deck!" Han yelled, then brought

his comlink to his mouth and asked, "Security Control, has Commander Skywalker

reported in yet?" A negative reply brought a scowl to Han's face.

The deck sergeant and his aide hurried up to Solo in response to his summons.

"Is Commander Skywalker back yet?" Han asked, tension in his voice.

"I haven't seen him," the deck sergeant replied. "It's possible he came in

through the south entrance."

"Check on it!" Solo snapped, though he was not in an official position to give

commands. "It's urgent."

As the deck sergeant and his aide turned and rushed down the corridor, Artoo

emitted a concerned whistle that rose inquiringly in pitch.

"I don't know, Artoo," Threepio answered, stiffly turning his upper torso and

head in Han's direction. "Sir, might I inquire what's going on?"

Anger welled up inside Han as he grunted back at the robot, "Go tell your

precious princess that Luke is dead unless he shows up soon."

Artoo began to whistle hysterically at Solo's grim prediction and his

now-frightened golden partner exclaimed, "Oh, no!"

The main tunnel was filled with activity when Han Solo rushed in. he saw a

pair of Rebel troopers employing all their physical strength to restrain a nervous

Tauntaun that was trying to break free.

From the opposite end, the deck officer rushed into the corridor, his eyes darting

around the chamber until he had spotted Han. "Sir," he said frantically,

"Commander Skywalker hasn't come through the south entrance. He might have

forgotten to check in."

"Not likely," Han snapped. "Are the speeders ready?"

"Not yet," the deck officer answered. "Adapting them to the cold is proving

difficult. Maybe by morning—"

Han cut him off. There wasn't any time to waste on machines that could and

probably would break down. "We'll have to go out on Tauntauns. I'll take sector

four."

"The temperature is falling too rapidly."

"You bet it is," Han growled, "and Luke's out in it."

The other officer volunteered, "I'll cover sector twelve. Have control set screen

alpha."

But Han knew there was no time for control to get its surveillance cameras

operating, not with Luke probably dying somewhere on the desolate plains above.

He pushed his way through the assemblage of Rebel troops and took the reins of one

of the trained Tauntauns, leaping onto the creature's back.

"The night storms will start before any of you can reach the first marker," the

deck officer warned.

"Then I'll see you in hell," grunted Han, tugging the reins of his mount and

maneuvering the animal out of the cave.

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