Another joint collaboration between Ricard Gregson (rmg@st-and.ac.uk) and Peter Watkins (peterw0@aol.com) since the last one seemed to go so well…

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Scene - the bridge of the Imperial Super Star Destroyer, Executor. A group of officers stand at attention watching Darth 'Kinky Boots' Vader stomp around agitatedly. Darth is indulging in a fit of actors pique and muttering under his breath. The officers are watching with carefully concealed amusements - they have heard rumours about the fate of those who laugh at the Dark Luvvie of the Sith.... 'Come on Darth, you're a bloody professional. Make it dramatic, make it evil!' He tries a number of evil smirks. Fortunately these are hidden by his Dark Lord (tm) helmet, else the officers' precarious grip on composure would be lost. 'Think Dark side of the Force, think Emperor' At this Darth turns sharply 'Admiral - order your men to launch 20,000 large hollow metal spheres throughout the Galaxy!' 'Ummm why Lord Vader?' "Why is not your concern Admiral - just do it!' The Admiral spots Darth clenching his fist and makes a decision 'As you wish Lord Vader.' As the officers file out of the bridge, the Admiral mutters to them. 'Look chaps just launch 20,000 probe droids instead - looks like old K.B. is having one of his funny days again.'

Vader turns to contemplate the blackness of space. '20,000 large metal spheres will make a damned impressive special effects shot' he thinks grinning evilly.

Meanwhile in another part of the galaxy far, far away.

Scene - The ice world of Huff, a giant snowball in a remote part of the galaxy. So remote in fact that the 'Intergalactic Holiday Resort' Magazine refers to it as "A rather dull planet with not much to recommend it apart from the skiing. The secret Rebel base is a rather shoddy affair and doesn’t rate 2 stars in the accommodation stakes, the service is poor and the tour guides are downright hostile to tourists."

Down on the planet the sun is rising and Han and Luke are getting up. "You know Han, when you said let's go camping, this wasn't exactly what I had in mind", Luke pulled himself out of his 'tent' with a slurping noise. Han grinned cheerfully "Hey kid, this is the greatest experience on earth, don't knock it!", he stood up and started to check out the landscape with his binoculars, "You know, we'd better start walking now if we want to be back at the base before sun down" "We wouldn't have had to walk if you'd remembered to bring the tents you know!", Luke whined. Han looked surprised, "Tents?" Luke looked up from pulling bits of intestine out of his uniform and said slowly "You mean to say that when you said 'Let's go camping and spend the night under the stars' you were _planning_ to slice open your Tauntaun and sleep in it????!" Han looked surprised, "But I _like_ sleeping in Tauntauns! What's the matter with you, anyone would think that you're not enjoying yourself?" Luke sighed "Han, I know that this might sound a little strange to you, but not everyone gets the same kick out of mutilating animals as you do" "Oh...", Han looked disappointed and scanned the sky some more.

"Nope can't see a thing - lets move it out kid - last one back to base has to drink TWO cups of navy coffee!" Luke sighs "Give me the binoculars Han," Han looks sulky but hands them over. Luke slowly and meaningfully peels a piece of white Tauntaun intestine off the front of the binoculars and hands them back. Han looks faintly sheepish and resumes sweeping the sky. "OK it really is clear this time - lets go."

Back on the bridge of the Executor, Darth and two of his Admirals are staring at a small monitor. Darth is not pleased "This had better be good Admiral - do you know what time it is?" The monitor appears to be showing static although an imaginative observer could interpret it as a snowstorm. Three vague domed shapes can be seen through the interference. Darth thumps the monitor "Admiral - you woke me up to show me three hills in snowstorm!" The admiral quakes "No lord Vader - allow me to scale the image and enhance it." The other Admiral adjusts the controls and the domes spring back and sharpen. They can now be clearly seen as shield generators. Darth straightens up "Very good Admiral - tell your commanders to set course for the Hoth system," "You mean Huff system lord Vader?" "Thits whut I soid Idmural," The Admirals look confused. One of them spots a blinking red light on Darth's chest panel. "Lord Vader....?" "Is thas a prublem Udmaril - tell yyour Collanders to display this squidrun to the Hoth cistern!" "Lord Vader..." the braver of the two admirals gestures towards Darth's chest. The Dark Lord looks down "oh bigger". Darth thumps himself in the chest and the blinking light goes out. Somehow even through his mask he contrives to look embarrassed. "As I was saying Admiral - tell your commanders to deploy the squadron to the Huff system." " Very good Lord Vader."

The Dark Lord turns and strides off the bridge oblivious to a quiet yet urgent conversation happening behind his back. "What do you mean that that's not the signal we received???" "I've been trying to tell you sir. That's an old archive film sir, showing a Rebel base in the Smut system that we destroyed years ago." "Shit! What _did_ we receive from the probe then?" The underling presses a couple of switches and the monitor changes to a view showing another snowstorm. Three vague domed shapes can be seen through the interference, a scene which is rather similar to the one that the Admirals just showed Lord Vader. "Yes? What's wrong with that?!" The underling says nothing but hits a few switches to enhance the image and three hills in the background come into focus. "Oh no! I'M DEAD!!!" The underling looks away and smirks, "That should teach you to 'forget' my promotion." he whispers to himself.

On Huff, a probe droid is having fun skipping across the planet. "Left, foot, right foot, left foot. Leap! Turn! Hahaha! I'll make a ballerina I tell you I will, I'll show them! I'll dance in front of the Emperor himself and stun him with my rendition of the 'Cheeky Little Jawa'!", the droid leaps again and lands lightly on the snow. "Time for a quick check", on the droid's domed forehead a panel slides open and a spherical dish rises out. It rotates once and then retreats back into its casing, the panel slides shut. "Aaaaaah, nothing about. Alone. Just me and my ballet! Point those soil manipulators...", the droid twirls off again.

Several miles away Han was getting confused by a signal he was receiving from his communications equipment. "Hey kido, listen to this", he passed the headphone unit over to Luke. <Cshhh, Crackle, crackle, cshhhh, wizz, pop!> "Dunno Han, doesn't sound like any sort of signal I've ever heard before. Let's patch it over to 3PO and see what he can do with it" Han raised his eyes heavenwards, he couldn't understand why Luke still thought of the bloody droid as a genius. He briefly contemplated whether he should tell Luke the real reason the mechanics refer to 3PO as "Golden Nob". Shaking his head he decided that, no, now was really the time to enlighten him. He bent down and started to fiddle with the comm unit while Luke called 3PO back at the base. "Threepio are you there?" "Yes master Luke", the droid's pristine voice sounded over the comm, Luke ignored the look of disgust that rolled over Han's features, "How may I be of service?" Han's quiet mutterings of "throw yourself into an ice crusher" are lost over the noise of the wind. "What do you make of this signal?", Luke sent the signal through the comm just as Han pulled something out of the comm unit. He looked at it. The thing was yellow, squishy and suspiciously organic looking. Glancing up Han saw that Luke was still deep in conversation with 3PO, whistling tunelessly, and maintaining a look of complete innocence, he quickly threw the Tauntaun spleen over his shoulder. "<cssssshhh> This is Radio Darkside broadcasting from the Huff system! A big hello to all the snow particles of the universe! Special greetings go to that dude of funkyness, Old Kinky Boot's himself, Darth Vader! Well Funkytoes, not much to report out here, there's no-one about and it's cold enough to freeze the restraining bolts off a prostidroid. There are some more hills in the distance, so I'll send some more film of them so that you can ..." 3PO's voice cut in over the circuit, "Master Luke sir, I am fluent in over 6 million verbal forms of communication and this code is not used by the Alliance. It may be an Imperial code" "Er... yeah, thanks Threepio, I'll call you later.", Luke switched the comm off. "It's coming from about a mile that way Luke, let's take a looksee", Han packed the equipment away and hoisted the pack onto his back. He strode off in the direction he had indicated. Luke watched him go. After a few minutes he shrugged, and walked off after him.

"Pirouette! Leap! Fly", the probe droid leapt over the horizon, landed daintily and span to a halt. "An audience!", it cried as it spotted Han and Luke, "My career starts here!". And with that it started into a variety of complex manoeuvres muttering phrases like "Jeté" and "Pointe" to itself. <BOOM!> Pieces of white hot probe droid bounced off the landscape, where the droid once pirouetted lie two forlone little pink ballet shoes which smoke gently in the frigid air.

Han holstered his blaster, "I just _hate_ 'The Dance of the Sugarplum Yedi'!" "Everyone's an art critic", replied Luke, "Come on let's get back to base"

On the bridge of the Super Star Destroyer an underling perks up "Sir, our probe droid in the Huff system has been destroyed" The Admiral walks over to the underling's monitor, a recently acquired nervous twitch stops briefly as a ray of hope crosses his features. "Really!" "Yes sir, we received its last communication. It's a bit garbled but appears to mention a race called 'Philistines'?", the underling looks confused, "Except sir, there's no such race." "Obviously rebels", the Admiral cuts in, he breathes a huge sigh of relief, "Continue to the Huff system!", he smiles but the twitch is back. "Yes sir. Sir?", the underling looks slightly worried. "What is it underling?" "How did the Dark Lord (tm) _know_ the rebels were on Huff??" The Admiral opens his mouth, pauses, then says "He used the force (tm) son, a power we mere mortals cannot understand" "Ah, of course.", the underling looks relieved.

Back in his room, Darth shuts his copy of 'Intergalactic Holiday Magazine' and thinks to himself "Yes, a spot of skiing will serve me well...."

Meanwhile on the ice world of Huff, Luke and Han are looking a bit worried.....

"Umm Han, do you think destroying that droid may have been a teeny little bit of a hint to the Empire?" Han is prodding bits of exploded droid moodily. "Sure kid - they're probably heading right towards us as we speak - some skiing, walking and Tauntaun dismembering holiday this is turning out to be!" "So we'd best head back then?" "Suppose so." Han and Luke pack up their equipment. Much to Han's relief there does not appear to be any miscellaneous organic matter in it. They set off into the snow.....

Several miles of white and a couple of previously uncharted (although they are decorated by some suspicious looking tracks) hills later, they are astonished to be confronted by a flickering image of a strangely familiar figure. Luke stares.... "Ben?" "Yes Luke - it is I. Luminous beings are we, not this crude matter." Luke sighs, "That sounds much too deep for you Ben - are you nicking lines again?" The ghostly figure looks a bit shifty. "Well its not fair - I get even less to say in this Episode than the last one." Luke frowns, " Anyway I thought you said that striking you down would make you more powerful - that cheap hologram effect doesn’t look too powerful to me!" Ben tries to explain about the Force supporting and guiding even after death and that things are much clearer when dead but sees that he is not really getting through. "You must go to the swampy dump of a - sorry Dagobah system and find Yoda. He will explain and train you as a Jedi." "Dagobah system - where in the Galaxy is that?" Ben looks irritated "How am I meant to know - only been there once myself and no way am I going to memorise all those bloody co-ordinates." Han interrupts at this point. "Luke we gotta go." " Oh yeah - the Empire. I don't suppose you can get us to the Rebel base quickly can you Ben?" Ben shakes his head, ignoring Han's mutterings of "bloody useless religion - gimme a fast ship and a blaster any day." "I'm sorry Luke, I cannot help you.... find Yoda....find Yoda...... and slowly fades out. Han raises an eyebrow "You actually going to do what that old fool says?" Luke looks uncertain, "I suppose I'd better really, its probably my destiny or something. Anyway lets go." "Not in this snowstorm we aint kid - take a look around you." A sudden violent snowstorm is approaching fast. Quickly Han makes preparations for another night on Huff. "Dammit no more Tauntauns - better use this survival kit. Hey do you reckon we can hitch a lift back in the morning - the guys at the base may want to do something if the Empire turns up?"

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Vader paced restlessly up and down the command centre. As he paced his brow, if it could be seen under his jet black leather mask, was wrinkled in worry. "But I can't be losing control of my powers! I'm a master of the force!", unfortunately the words of Obi Wan Kenobi were haunting him. "Woooo, woooo, only a master of evil Darth", Vader shuddered wishing for the umpteenth that Ben would stop trying to up his lines quota in this film. The rest of the crew on the command deck watched Vader in trepidation, old KB had been getting rather unpredictable these days and most of the troops were doing their best to stay out of his way lest they get promoted to Admiral. Vader abruptly turned round from the tactical display he'd been watching and stalked up to a particularly worried specimen of officer. "You!" Vader gesticulated at him, "Send a message to the Admiral. Kindly inform him that standard Imperial tactics for launching a ground assault against a world protected by an energy field state, and I think quite clearly.", Vader paused for breath, more for effect than out of any real need for air, "That it is advisable to disable the field _prior_ to attempting to land troops through it!!!!!", with each syllable Vader's voice became louder, his gestures more animated and the officers face became more drained of blood. Suddenly the officer fainted out of fright. KB looked confused, then regained control of himself and pointed at another officer "Make sure that message gets through!"

Luke sighed, he didn't know what he'd done this time to deserve this but here he was again. He'd been floating in the bacta tank for a couple of hours now and still he couldn't fathom the reason why Han had clubbed him over the head with a frozen Tauntaun leg. "Was it something I said?" he thought to himself, as he tried to recall his last conversation with Han. "Nah, can't think of it. Must have just been in a bad mood, ending his sadists holiday early must have really hit him hard", he watched as a medical droid rolled into the room and over to the tank. "Time to get out sir" the droid purred, "The Empire is attacking us and the General order me to rustle up some cannon fodder", with that the droid deftly flicked a red switch that had been lurking innocently on the wall. Luke shot out of the tank and neatly brained himself against the ceiling. "Owwwwwww!" he wined as he collapsed against the floor. "Sir, Zak is awaiting your presence in the hangar. He wishes to go over the pre-flight check-ups with you.", the droid handed over Luke's orange stained coveralls. Luke blinked at them, bit them and decided they weren't edible so he started to put them on instead.

Zak looked up as Luke jumped into the cockpit of their Snowfrisbie, he started to frame a question as to why Luke's head was pointing out of the leg of his suit but decided that he didn't really want to know. "Hi there! How do you feel Zak?", Luke shouted back at him Zak raised an eyebrow and started to sing in a macho voice, "I feel like a Tooheys! I FEEL like a Tooheys! I FEEL like a TOOHEYS or TWO!" Luke shot him a surprised look, "Huh? Are you sure you're ok back there Zak? You look a little flushed, HOW DO YOU FEEL?" "I FEEL LIKE A TOOHEYS OR TWO!!!", Zak replied happily "Well, ok then if you insist", Luke waved his hands and several six-packs of obscure Australian lager lifted themselves off the side of the hangar and into their cockpit. Luke tossed a couple of cans behind him to Zak who, against all laws of physics, managed to open them in mid-air and had almost downed them before they came to a stop in his hands. Luke downed a couple himself for good measure, he then thought better of it and downed the entire six-pack. "allwrite" he slurred, "Tashking off", he slammed his hands onto what he thought was the take-off button but in fact turned out to be the retract-landing-gear button and swore happily to himself as the craft crashed into the ground. "Aw, who needsh landing gears anyways?" he shouted back to Zak. "Damn rigtsh", Zak mumbled back and passed out. Luke tried again and this time managed to hit the right button and they thundered out of the cavern. Unfortunately, the Snowfrisbies had been designed by an engineer with an artistic bent. That is so say they were designed to fly in the same way that Frisbees fly. Normally this didn't cause any problems because the inside of the cockpit rotated in the opposite direction and so cancelled out the rotation, this also had the added bonus of looking good on film. But Luke's inept takeoff had managed to short out of their anti-rotation motivator unit. The net effect of which was that it was now actually flying _like_ a Frisbee, thus rendering both Luke and Zak extremely dizzy, not to mention violently ill. Luckily for Luke the rotation of the craft was managing to exactly cancel out the spinning of his head so that he had a clear view of the advancing Imperial Scottie-Dogs. Luke scanned his control panel nervously. "Ummm control stick...OK, blasters ....cool and what the hell....." Luke switched on his radio. "Uhh Rogue Leader I have a queshtion to ashhk?" "What is it Luke - not enough beer on board? "Nope - plenty of aco (hic)shol, shalcka(hic), (oh dammit) boozsh on board shir." "Then what’s the problem?" "Uhh I wash jusht wondering why we seem to have a robotic fishing line control?" "A what Luke? You been drinkin' again or what? Through the haze of alcohol Luke notes the slightly annoyed tones coming through his speaker and with a large amount of control and considerable regret decides to sober up ( A particularly useful Jedi mind trick). "No sir *hic* I havnt been drinking *hic* but this little control thing in front of me is marked "Robotic fishing Line" Rogue Leader scratches his head worriedly "Beats the hell out of me Luke - oh well I'll guess we'll find a use for it after this battle...." "OK boys accelerate to attack speed and lock S-foils in attack position - this is it!" The rest of the squadron consider telling their leader that they are in fact going flat out and that Snowfrisbies are not in fact equipped with S-foils but decide they don't have the heart. A bit fond of reliving past suicidal attacks against the Empire old Wedge but basically a good guy seems to be the consensus over the radio. Luke meanwhile is having severe problems as his wildly spinning craft is no longer compensated by his wildly spinning head and therefore he is only facing forward for about a third of the necessary time. To make matters worse Zak is trying to find the sensor controls in the co-pilots seat and managing to miss them repeatedly. "hangssh on Luke, nearllly gosh em *hic* oh boolllosch" As a result their Snowfrisbie is careering randomly across the snow, randomly lowering the remains of its undercarriage, flashing its lights and making some very odd noises. The Imperial Dogs stop and somehow manage to look mystified. This is mainly due to their drivers doubling up with laughter at the sight of Luke's Frisbee. They keep laughing right up to the point when blaster fire from the more soberly flown and less terminally damaged snowfrisbees starts bouncing of their armour. Meanwhile the rebel troops defending the base, are covering up their eyes and gibbering.

"Red seven, this is rouge leader. See if you can draw some fire from that left Scottie Dog!", Wedge screamed into his mike. "rogue leader I'm on the.. AAAAAaaaaarrrrrrggggh!", Red seven explodes into a ball of flame as an imperial laserbolt fries it out of the sky. "Yes, well... that's one way to do it.", Luke mutters over the radio, "Hold on a minute! This fishing line's given me an idea! Rouge Leader this is Paisley Six" "Paisley Six this is Rouge Leader, what's up Luke? Thought of a brilliant idea to wipe the floor with these Imperial scum?", Wedge neatly avoids an imperial blast and fires his own blasters in return. "Damned right I have, I've been looking at these Robotic Fishing lines and I've decided we should...", a near miss briefly shorts out Luke's comm link. "<cssssh> Repeat. I said repeat Paisley Six, you're breaking up", Wedge screams frantically as he watches an entire wing of Y-wings plow into a Scotty dog. The Imperials, of course, suffering no damage as a result. "<cssshh> Well I was saying", Luke replied, "That since we've got all this gear we should go on a fishing holiday on the Swampy dump of Dagoba" "Damned good idea!", comes the shout from various crafts round the squadron, "Erm... don't you want to die in glorious battle?", asks Wedge nervously over the intercom. "NO SIR!", the rest of the squadron reply as they rocket out of the sky towards the stars. "See ya Wedge", Luke says slyly as he engages his hyperdrive unit and speeds away. Wedge is a bit put out by all this, "Cowards...", he mutters just as a blaster bolt slams into his ship.

Meanwhile in the Rebel Base, things are looking a bit grim. Rebel commanders are frantically trying to make sense of the situation and are rapidly running out of options. Even the beer is left untouched - nobody seems to be in the mood. "OK start the evacuation - looks like this place is going down. General Solo can you take the Princess and that usel... sorry invaluable translator droid? Only we are running out of space on the Transports." " Sure Commander - I'll take that wheely bin as well. Only one problem - well 5 actually..." " You mean those Star Destroyers. We have a plan for them. I take it by the wheely bin you mean commander Skywalkers R2 unit?" "Yep. On second thoughts I'll leave him in Luke’s X-Wing - kid can’t fly with it, never mind without it."

Han leaves the room and the Rebel commander turns to one of his aides. "OK ready the ion cannon - you may fire when on my mark....."

Outside the battle is intensifying. Rebel ground troops are doing their best but there seems to be no hope. Wedge has managed to regain control of his badly damaged Frisbee and is yelling into the comm.

"Rouge Squadron this is your leader. You are not repeat NOT flying space capable craft!" "So what’s it to you Wedge - we're out of here!" comes the reply. " Only that you're gonna suffocate in about 2 minutes when you leave Huff's atmosphere. Although why I'm helping you incompetent bunch of fools is beyond me!"

There is a pause in the radio conversation. Somehow the slight hiss manages to convey a deep sense of embarrassment. "OK Rouge leader we're heading home - lets pound those dogs into dirt. Or snow at any rate."

"That’s what I like to hear boys - welcome back"

Unfortunately Wedge has been to preoccupied with getting his squad back to notice the rapidly closing Imperial Dog. He is pulling up frantically when a blast of laser fire sears past him blowing the Dog into flaming splinters. A familiar voice sounds over the radio.

"You're all clear Wedge, now lets blow these things and go home!" " General Solo that line sounds wrong somehow but thanks anyway."

Wedge flies his Snowfrisbee through the rapidly expanding cloud of debris and turns to find more targets. Meanwhile the Millenium Falcon heads spacewards. Back at the base....

"Ion control - Fire!"

A rebel gun emplacement swivels skywards and fires a brief burst. Strangely there is no crackle of ion fire, rather a whoosh...bang of a high speed projectile round. Up in space a speck of metal races towards one of the Star Destroyers. As it approaches it is seen to be a flat chunk of metal with a handle. It smacks into the Imperial craft's shields with a sad clunk and pfffft of escaping steam.

"No damage sir" "You fool! I said ION control not iron control." "Ooops.... OK sir firing ion cannon now."

The Imperial ships have noticed the iron hitting the shields and are frantically trying to assess its effects. The fact that nothing has happened yet merely heightens the paranoia. In the confusion the rebel transports manage to escape. At that moment an intense and woefully out of scale ion blast blasts out of the atmosphere and crackles over the surface of a second Star Destroyer.

"No damage sir." "Uh oh. Tell the men to abandon that emplacement - its a sitting duck now." " How come the ion beam did no damage sir?" " Have you seen the size of that ion cannon? Its a miracle it can project a blast out into space at all, much less damage anything. And I never worked out what the hell an ion beam would do against a huge spacecraft that is gonna be shielded against cosmic rays and stellar ion winds and stuff anyway." "But its the only thing we had sir?" "Precisely"

The Star Destroyers have tracked the origin of the ion beam and pounded it to rubble. Rouge Squadron are attacking the Imperial Dogs but having no real effect.

"Sir we still have three transports to evacuate." The rebel leader sighs wearily. "Right, time to use the last option, desperation plan. Plan Z everyone, start plan Z." The rebel base becomes a hive of activity as plan Z is implemented. On the other side of Huff a silo opens and three rockets shoot into space, where they each eject a small package. The packages unfold and rapidly inflate to full size. A squadron of Calamari Cruisers is now floating in space, albeit a rather plastic and fake looking squadron of Calamari Cruisers.

"Decoys are orbiting the planet sir - will intercept Star Destroyers in 10 minutes." "Excellent. Ready the shield projector and set all systems on auto. Tell the troops to fall back and board the transports.

Outside the troops are seen to be falling back. Luke's snowfrisbee is careering towards one of the approaching Dogs as Luke is frantically trying to fly it straight. The remaining Frisbees are heading back to base at top speed.

"Zak ZAK - do something!"

"Uhhhh OK Luke. Got a plan."

Zak presses a button. Unfortunately rather than the cabin rotation override switch he accidentally activates the robotic fishing line which fires straight into the leg of the approaching Dog. The Frisbee whirls round and round the Dog, while Zak is frantically trying to release the line. Luke yells at Zak, who is gibbering in the back seat. Moments before disaster strikes Luke ejects into a pile of snow. "Hmmm didn’t know these things were fitted with ejector seats" The Frisbee smashes into the Dog legs, exploding violently but pointlessly. Luke winces but does not allow the loss of his copilot to override basic survival instincts. He turns and starts walking back to the base. Behind him the imperial walker is in trouble. It steps forward, finds it cannot and then slowly topples sideways, smashing into the ground. Luke is too preoccupied to notice the resulting fireball.

"Engage automatic systems and evacuate." "Affirmative sir" The decoy cruisers come over the horizon into full view of the Star Destroyers. For a moment there is panic. At that moment the shield covering the rebel base drops and instead focuses into a tight beam on the cruisers. This is enough to deflect the barrage of turbolaser fire from the five heavily armed imperial ships. The rebel transports and Rouge squadron take this opportunity to escape. Seconds later the Imperial ground troops reach the shield generator and destroy it. The shield protecting the decoys flickers off and they are instantly fused into a molten blob of plastic.

" Rebel cruisers destroyed sir." " That was too easy." " Yessir - rerunning tactical display."

The imperial officers watch in silence as the tactical display reviews the data. It doesn’t take long to figure out what happened and there is a sudden and deathly silence.

" Ohhhhhh shiiiitttt."

A slightly more ambitious officer is pondering the situation. "Hmmmm a planet based shield for an orbiting vehicle. I wonder what that could be used for..."

High above in the atmosphere on the Millennium Falcon Han is, as usual, having problems. "Look Han, I know it's very impressive and macho and all that, but please could you take the blindfold _off_ while we're making our daring escape?", Liea asked pleasantly just on the right side of violence. "You mean you weren't stunned by my incredibly skilful flying and sexworthyness back there with Wedge???", Han asked incredulously. "Well... actually it would have been more impressive if you hadn't managed to shoot him as well as the Dog..." "Right! That's it your Highness!", Han ripped the blindfold from his eyes, "I'm going to show you what this bucket of bolts can do!", Han grinned roguishly as he looked back towards the viewscreen. His grin gradually leaked off his face as he saw five Star Destroyers bearing down on the Falcon.

On the bridge of the Super Star Destroyer Vader is beating his latest Admiral to death with a small inflatable Tie-Fighter. The Admiral however was not appreciating the supreme irony of the situation due to being, in fact, dead. Vader looked over at a technician working at the side of the bridge, "You! Find an officer and promote him to Admiral!" The technician looked a bit shifty, "Erm... there are none left, you've er... 'promoted' them all sir" "Then congratulations Admiral", Vader stalked over to the viewscreen, ignoring the technicians who were shuffling away from the new Admiral and in some cases fleeing the bridge at a run. He examined the radar display, "There!", he pointed at a random blob on the display, "That's the ship I want". "But sir, that's one of ours!", the new Admiral replied worriedly. "Really? Ok I want that one!", Vader stabbed at another blob which had the label 'Millennium Rustbucket, going to secret rebel base II' on it. He glared at the Admiral as if daring him to make a comment The Admiral gulped, "Right sir, all ships capture that rustbucket!", he shouted over the intercom.

Back on the Falcon, Han is having bigger problems than a tattered ego, "Chewie you stupid hairball! What on earth possessed you to take apart the hyperdrive unit with a sledgehammer?!!!!" "Grrrraaaaw, grrrrr, growl...", Chewie replied (Stop moaning, just because I couldn't find a screwdriver...), "Wooarr wooo waaaaargg..." (besides I remember the time you tried to fix the computer with an ion cannon...) "Ok, ok! I wasn't complaining, I was just saying that this wasn't the time", Han looked worriedly out at the incoming Star Destroyers. "No Hyperdrive?", the Princess asked witheringly. "It's _his_ fault", Han stabbed a finger at Chewie.

That's all that we've done so far, we've kind of got a bit sidetracked recently since we've started writing a book together (hahahahahahahahaha....), we'll finish it when we get round to it - 1/12/97

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