SCENE 2.

Oi! Comrade, how art thou?

—Quite well, my friend.

Say, didst thou hear the news?

—What news, pray tell?

It seemeth we have found Skywalker.

—Aye?

The lad for whom we have for ages search’d?

The one o’er whom Darth Vader seems obsess’d?

The mighty boy of whom we’ve all been warn’d?

Indeed, the same—thou knowest whom I mean.

Where was he, then?

—Upon the moon.

—Which moon?

The moon around which we do orbit now.

E’en Endor.

—Can it be? Our enemy,

The greatest threat the Empire’s ever known,

Hath ’scaped our watch and is to Endor flown?

How can that be, for do we not have guards

Identifying ev’ry ship that comes?

Hath he fool’d them to make his landing, then?

E’en so. Lord Vader hath return’d with him.

Darth Vader brought him here?

—Yes. Wherefore art

Thou so perplex’d?

—The rebel pilot who

Hath single-handedly destroy’d the first

Death Star is hither brought—

—As prisoner.

As prisoner. Aye, that is better. But

How came he then to be on Endor, say?

And wherefore was he there? Do we yet know?

How he hath landed there is yet beyond

Our knowing. He hath said he was alone.

And hath he been believ’d?

—Nay, we have not

Our senses quite forgot. Pray, give our men

An ounce of credit, lad. Our scouts do search

For his accomplices e’en now.

—’Tis well.

Forsooth, the Empire soon shall triumph.

—But . . .

Alas, my friend, what troubles thee? Why dost

Thou speak this “but”? Why “but”? What “but”?

—Hast thou

Read the descriptions of the Endor moon?

I have, for we were order’d so to do.

Then thou hast heard about the creatures there.

Mean’st thou the native population that

Was deemèd insignificant?

—Indeed.

The full report hath said that they are arm’d.

But with such sticks and rocks as would not harm

A womp rat, and much less an AT-AT. Thou

Wilt not fear armies made of twigs. ’Tis true?

Perhaps, yet follow on: it seems that there

Are rebels on the forest moon, who now

Have hidden, and we know not where. What if

These rebels were to meet the creatures, band

Together, crush the bunker that controls

The shield that watcheth o’er the Death Star, then

Coordinate a wing’d assault, which would

Destroy this battle station and—still more—

Deliver our dread Emperor and Lord

Darth Vader unto their untimely deaths?

Could not just such a chain of dire events

Defeat the Empire strong in one fell swoop?

Thou shouldst not be a guard, my friend, for thou

Art suited for a life of fantasy.

Thou shouldst a writer be of stories grand

Wherein a group of men and simple beasts

Do overthrow an Empire powerful.

O, it doth break upon my sight: my friend,

The ancient storyteller he, who weaves

His tales to bring delight to all who hear.

Thou mockest me.

—Well notic’d! Mark me now:

Thy fears all rest upon a tiny word,

A word so small it should not give thee cause

To fret and worry so: that word is “if.”

“If” there were rebels on the forest moon,

“If” they did meet with creatures and form pacts,

“If” then they could our bunker strong destroy,

“If” they had plann’d to strike our Death Star great.

Thine “if” itself the Empire overthrows,

But “if” knows little of reality.

I tell thee true, if I had richer been,

If I had been a politician’s son,

If I were rais’d in wealth and privilege,

If I myself became most powerful,

Why then, I would be Emperor, not guard!

But for the “ifs.”

—Thy point is made, and I

Shall rest my “ifs” and be at ease. Now, if

Thou shalt come with me, we have both been call’d

To rearrange the chairs upon the deck.

If thou shalt lead, I’ll follow, worthy friend.

[Exeunt.

Our age is but a constant grasp for pow’r,

A time when trust and honor are no more

And all is but a furious race till death.

How doth a person make a life that’s worth

The living? Is’t by love or ventures? Nay:

The one who hath the greatest pow’r prevails.

The politicians grumble, scrape, and grab,

A’fighting o’er their spheres of influence,

The people cringe and whimper ’neath the loads

Plac’d on them by those in authority,

And all in bleak timidity do cow’r

When in the presence of their Emperor.

O what a piece of work are we! I should

Find joy in our humanity, and yet,

To me, what is this quintessence of dust?

A galaxy of vermin searching for

A crumb of what the best do eat, all rul’d

By those who have the appetite for pow’r—

For in a world of darkness only those

Who serve the dark deserve to live and thrive.

Let those naïve and wayward souls who seek

For justice, wisdom, honesty, and right

Endure such suffering as fits their weak

And simple souls. Let those who love be made

To witness how their lov’d ones scream and shriek

And, at the last, forsake e’en those they love

When tortur’d by the mighty hand of pow’r.

Let those who lurch and stumble t’ward the light

Discover, in the moments ere they die,

The light they sought is but a blaster shot,

Lightsaber beam or lightning of the Sith

That shall their wretched life put to an end.

And let the vile Rebellion choke upon

Its own absurd and innocent ideals,

Until each sick’ning, cursèd, backward soul

Who e’er hath spoken in Rebellion’s name

Lies broken in the streets, beneath my steps.

Aye, let’s kill all the rebels. It shall be,

For power is my slave and I its god.

I bid thee welcome, young Skywalker. Long

Have I awaited thee. Guards, leave us now.

[Exeunt royal guards.

I do look forward to the moment when

Thy training shall completed be. In time

Thou shalt bow low and call me Master.

—There

Thou art mistaken gravely, for I am

Not thine to be converted as thou in

The past did turn my father.

—Nay, my young

Apprentice. Thou shalt find ’tis thou who art

Mistaken vis-à-vis so many things.

His lightsaber I give to thee.

—Indeed.

The weapon of a Jedi Knight, much like

Thy father. Surely, boy, thou knowest well

That never shall thy father turnèd be

Away from dark toward the good; so shall

It be for thee.

—O, thou art wrong. Anon

I shall be dead, and thou with me.

—Ha, ha!

Belike thou speakest of the imminent

Attack that hath been plannèd by the fleet

Of rebel ships?

[ aside:] —Alas! How can he know?

Aye, let me reassure thee we are safe

Here from the foolish undertaking of

Thy wretched friends.

—Thine overconfidence

Is thy great weakness.

—And thy faith in thy

Base friends is thine.

—’Tis pointless to resist,

My son. Thou shalt be turn’d unto the dark,

And then we three shall rule the galaxy.

Dost thou not see? All that hath happen’d doth

Proceed according to my grand design.

Thy friends upon the sanctuary moon

Now walk into a trap that I shall spring.

Thy rebel fleet as well: the snare is set

To catch the pests and crush them ’twixt my fingers.

Hast thou yet understood? ’Twas I who did

Allow thy bold Alliance to find out

The site of the shield generator; it

Is wholly safe from thy band pitiful.

I let thy spies believe they had reveal’d

A secret great about this station, yet

’Twas I who leak’d intelligence to them,

So all the pieces would be perfectly

Arrang’d to strike rebellion down at last.

A legion of my finest troops awaits

Their piteous attack. But O, fear not,

For fully operational the shield

Shall be when thy misguided friends arrive.

With skill the players all are put in place,

Much bloodshed and destruction shall they face.

[Exeunt.