The First Star Wars Movie - Chapter 1-5 (From 1977)
The First Star Wars Movie - Chapter 1-5 (From 1977)
Story so far....
Darth Vader chases and catches Princess Liea's ship to take back the stolen plans of the 'Death Star'm but she manages to feed the plans in to R2D2 and send him out of her ship to fall on to Tatooine - a nearby planet. Luke Skywalker who has lost his parents lives in Tatooine with his uncle and Aunt and he plans to be a farm boy one day... But the 2 Droids who fall from nowhere change his life plan..
Back to the story...
Threepio stared, mesmerized, out of the small viewport set in the front of the tiny escape pod as the hot yellow eye of Tatooine began to swallow them up. Somewhere behind them, he knew, the crippled fighter and the Imperial cruiser were receding to imperceptibility.
That was fine with him. If they landed near a civilized city, he would seek elegant employment in a halcyon atmosphere, something more befitting his status and training. These past months had gifted him with entirely too much excitement and unpredictability for a mere machine.
Artoo's seemingly random manipulation of the pod controls promised anything but a smooth landing, however. Threepio regarded his squat companion with concern. "Are you sure you know how to pilot this thing?" Artoo replied with a noncommittal whistle that did nothing to alter the taller robot's jangled state of mind.
IT was an old settlers' 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 glare, 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 good deal more animated, though no less sunweathered.
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 vaporators 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 instructions, then finally gave up in disgust when he realized that it would take more than words to motivate the Treadwell again.
Yeah, Tatooine has 2 Nos. suns...
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. Sand-flies buzzed lazily in the cracked eaves of pourstone buildings. 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 hervoice 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 wereembracing 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 overbearing 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 a 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 others strained unaided eyes. A slight readjustment provided just enough magnification for Biggs to make 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.
Note princess Liea's 'mountain goat' hair-do
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 towered 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 iplomatic miss-"
Previous Next
All rights remain with the original author.
Story so far....
Darth Vader chases and catches Princess Liea's ship to take back the stolen plans of the 'Death Star'm but she manages to feed the plans in to R2D2 and send him out of her ship to fall on to Tatooine - a nearby planet. Luke Skywalker who has lost his parents lives in Tatooine with his uncle and Aunt and he plans to be a farm boy one day... But the 2 Droids who fall from nowhere change his life plan..
Back to the story...
Threepio stared, mesmerized, out of the small viewport set in the front of the tiny escape pod as the hot yellow eye of Tatooine began to swallow them up. Somewhere behind them, he knew, the crippled fighter and the Imperial cruiser were receding to imperceptibility.
That was fine with him. If they landed near a civilized city, he would seek elegant employment in a halcyon atmosphere, something more befitting his status and training. These past months had gifted him with entirely too much excitement and unpredictability for a mere machine.
Artoo's seemingly random manipulation of the pod controls promised anything but a smooth landing, however. Threepio regarded his squat companion with concern. "Are you sure you know how to pilot this thing?" Artoo replied with a noncommittal whistle that did nothing to alter the taller robot's jangled state of mind.
IT was an old settlers' 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 glare, 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 good deal more animated, though no less sunweathered.
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 vaporators 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 instructions, then finally gave up in disgust when he realized that it would take more than words to motivate the Treadwell again.
Yeah, Tatooine has 2 Nos. suns...
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. Sand-flies buzzed lazily in the cracked eaves of pourstone buildings. 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 hervoice 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 wereembracing 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 overbearing 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 a 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 others strained unaided eyes. A slight readjustment provided just enough magnification for Biggs to make 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 towered 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 iplomatic miss-"
Previous Next
All rights remain with the original author.
Comments
Post a Comment