Chapter XI

Considering how affected the sheltered young Luke was by the unseemly and undignified underbelly of the port taverns in Mos Eisley, it requires but a small amount of imagination to picture the horror with which he received his first tangible scene of violence in the wreckage of the city of Alderaan-upon-Avon. Here at last was the great and exciting struggle for freedom that he had so long desired, and yet he was only sickened by the sight of destruction and carnage, of chaos and death that now haunted the ruins of this once prosperous community. But with all this there came upon him – and indeed, to some degree upon all those aboard the Centennial Falcon who were witness to the calamity – a sudden upwelling of patriotism and love for the native land that convinced more than all arguments previously considered that England must be free once more from her oppressors.

Nobody spoke for some time. Sir Benjamin stood motionlessly at the prow of the vessel, staring at the smoking shoreline in an attitude of deep contemplation. Nearby, poor Mr. Threepeo wept without shame while his friend Arthur attempted to comfort him with a kind word and a supporting arm. The savage Choo-ee murmured prayers to whatever gods his people revered, while Captain O'Solo merely shook his head as though he could not quite bring himself to believe what lay before them.

"A whole fleet could not have done this," O'Solo said to nobody in particular, "Not in days."

"And how could you possibly be so sure of that?" Luke challenged.

"I've seen me share of warfare, m'boy," the captain replied. "It must 'ave been an invasion. Massive one, too."

Sir Kenobi spoke at last. "There are no signs of troops," he observed.

The captain did not disagree. "Shall we put ashore?" he asked dubiously.

The elderly knight turned from the wreckage at last and shook his head. "There will be no survivors. There is nothing we can do here anymore."

"Merciful heavens!" cried Mr. Threepeo, "Whatever shall become us now?"

"Where will we go?" Luke echoed.

"Away from here," the venerable old knight replied, "It is entirely possible that there are still French forces in the area and we should make haste. The Resistance will have regrouped elsewhere; we merely must find them. Our mission is unchanged."

"Now hold on a minute there, old man," Hanagan O'Solo protested, "I've brought ye here to Alderaan as promised, but I've agreed to nothin' further. I ought to have known ye'd be wrapped up in political troubles, but I want not a bit to do with any of it, ye hear me? You can find yerself another ship from here on out. We've had enough of a trouble with the Frenchies as it is."

"We can increase your fee," the knight replied mildly.

O'Solo licked his lips, for it was in his nature to be tempted by such an offer. But in the end, fear and prudence won out over his greed. "'Tis not a matter of money, now," he said, "I'll not end up like them poor folk." He gestured towards the smoking shore.

"You can't possibly mean to abandon us now!" Luke shouted, growing hot in the face. "Our mission is extremely important."

"Yer mission has nought to do with me, lad," the captain spat.

"Now look here--" the young squire began, and would have continued at some length had not Choo-ee at that moment let out a ferocious cry in his native tongue, waving his gigantic arms towards something in the distance. The others followed his motions to see the outlines of a ship against the horizon.

"The French," Captain O'Solo cursed, then began shouting instructions to raise the sails.

"The vessel is closing in quickly," Sir Benjamin observed.

"We'll outrun her, no worries," their captain replied, "And then all of ya will be off at the nearest port."

What followed was a tense quarter of an hour in which the Falcon began its flight away from the ruined city, the French warship hot on its tail. True to its reputation, however, O'Solo's ship soon began to put distance between itself and its pursurer, and for a brief moment its occupants believed they had once again escaped the clutches of their enemy.

The ship's captain let out a whoop of victory, leaning off the bow of the ship and pointing into the distance. "No trick about it," O'Solo boasted, "By the time we pass yonder island we'll have lost sight of them completely."

But Sir Benjamin had procured the captain's spyglass and was peering through it with great concentration. "I think not," he said calmly, "Check your charts, captain, and you'll find no such isle exists on any map. 'Tis not an island." He lowered the spyglass and looked at them all somberly. "'Tis a battleship."

The captain scoffed. "Don't be an fool, old man," he said, "No ship o' that size could stay afloat!"

"It's smoking," pointed out Mr. Threepeo, and his companion Arthur whistled in agreement and awe.

"And it's getting closer," Luke said, "It's heading straight for us!"

Imagine if you will the sight that now struck fear into the hearts of our brave heroes: a ship three times larger than any battleship seen before by man, so large indeed that it was said that when first it touched the water at the French shipyard in Calais, the harbor was flooded and many of its structures swept clean away. Her sides were plated with fierce steel as black as night so that it seemed the mighty sun had no power to illumine her, and from her back a constant stream of blackest smoke was belched forth, filling the sky with its gloom. As young Skywalker had observed, it was indeed getting closer, even moving against the wind, for its mighty engines that burned beneath its deck pushed it through the water faster than any sail. It took mere moments for the Captain to come to the unmistakable conclusion that escape was utterly impossible. A look of pale and grim determination settled across his ruddy face.

"Choo-ee," he said, "Sharpen yer axe, my friend. They won't be takin us without a fight, they won't."

"A moment, Captain," interrupted Sir Benjamin, an edge in his voice that Luke had never yet heard, "Lower your weapon, sir, for this is not a fight we can hope to win. However, we must as always keep in mind the wisdom that a battle is not the solution to every problem, nor is conflict the only means by which our goals may met and our safety secured. Subtlety, Captain, may prevail us in the present circumstances more than bravery."

The Captain stared at the old knight thoughtfully, then at last nodded.

"God above!" muttered a very pale Threepeo, "Our fates are undoubtedly doomed."

"None of that kind of talk, now!" chastised Luke, who then looked to his mentor with some show of anxiety, "We will be alright, won't we?"

"We must trust that forces above our comprehension guide our destiny, my young squire," the venerable knight replied, "and have faith."