BESPIN IS A shimmering pink planet, all gases and clouds like soapsuds. It lies in the fabric of space like a pink marble would lie on a black blanket. Beautiful, out of place.
Floating in the lower atmosphere, crystalline and shimmering like a child’s top molded in platinum, is Cloud City, the center of the mining operations on the north side of the planet. A single silver tendril descends toward the gaseous surface of the world below.
The Millennium Falcon banks, adjusting its course for the sky-bound town.
“It’s a gas mining community,” Han explains. “Lando’s in charge of the whole thing. Hard to believe, since I’ve never known him to run anything larger than a card table. But he’s been here for years.”
Two laser bolts hit either side of the ship, sending it lurching right, then left.
Chewie roars. Han looks at the scopes. Two small patrol ships have taken position just behind them. Through the Falcon’s intercom come the words, “You have not been granted permission to land.”
Han replies, “I know! I’m looking for Lando! Lando Calrissian!”
“He has identified your vessel,” says the voice over the intercom. “You are to follow us. Do not deviate from your course.”
The small crew of the Millennium Falcon look at one another. “Touchy, aren’t they?” C-3PO chirrups.
Leia is looking hard at Han. “I thought you were friends with this guy.”
“There’s nothing to worry about,” Han assures her through gritted teeth.
Leia sighs. “Who’s worried?”
The landing pad is empty. Pink clouds float by, pushed by a wind that smells faintly sweet, like someone is cooking pancakes and drenching them with syrup. It’s actually the smell of the predominant gas in Bespin’s atmosphere, rethen. It isn’t toxic to humans. At least, not very.
Han, Leia, C-3PO, and Chewbacca walk down the gangway of the Millennium Falcon, the motliest, least impressive crew of a pirate ship this side of the galaxy. They gaze around for some sort of welcoming party.
“Hm!” C-3PO huffs. “No one here to meet us! Quite rude!”
Leia shakes her head. “I don’t like this….”
“On the other hand, they did let us land,” the droid says.
Han tells them all not to worry. But his voice and face are anything but reassuring.
And then, a door on the far side of the platform opens and a dashing man steps through. A long cape dances behind him as he strides forward, and a pencil-thin mustache perches like an ornament just above his lips. A dozen security guards march behind him, followed finally by an officious looking manservant with a bald head and an electronic command system fastened to his ears.
The caped man looks furious.
“See?” Han whispers to his gang. “My friend! Lando!” And then, to Chewbacca, he adds, “Maybe go get the bowcaster.”
The man’s voice is rising as he approaches. “Why, you slimy, double-crossing, no-good swindler! You’ve got a lot of guts coming here, after the stunt you pulled!” He’s coming at Han hard, and with increasing speed. Han sets his feet and curls his hands into fists.
As Lando comes within reach, he throws a hard right at Han. The space pirate ducks—and then is pulled into an embrace.
The landing party stares, confused. But Lando is laughing. “How you doing, you old pirate?” Lando—as dashing and handsome a man as you’ve ever met—pulls back and looks at Han. He shakes his head. He’s still laughing. “You look like a mess.”
“And you look like a businessman,” Han shoots back.
Lando laughs some more.
The two of them turn and, arms around each other’s shoulders, start for the doors. The manservant with the headset dismisses the guards, who troop in unison inside and out of sight.
“Well, he seems friendly,” C-3PO announces, falling into line behind the old mates.
“Yeah,” Leia mutters. “Charming….”
As they pass through the fine, silvered sliding doors, Lando says, “So, what are you doing here?”
“Repairs.” Han gestures back at the Falcon. “I thought you could help me out.”
Lando looks alarmed. “What have you done to my ship?”
“Your ship?” Han stops, and the group following them pulls up short. He is gesturing at his chest with his thumb. “You lost her to me, fair and square!”
“Fair? You never played a hand of cards fair in your life!”
“Are you accusing me of cheating?”
“Are you denying it?”
The two men glower at each other for a second. Three seconds. Five.
Leia glances at Chewbacca to see if he’s got a blaster.
And then the two men break up laughing.
Leia exhales and rolls her eyes. Men. As egotistical as roosters. And about as smart.
The corridors of the mining colony are wide and shining. The floors are an expensive, marble-like stone, and frequent windows give out onto a breathtaking view of the lower atmosphere.
“Well,” Han asks, “how’s the mining business?”
Lando sighs the sigh of the fortunate. “Oh, you know. Never making quite the profit you want. You got your supply problems, then your labor disputes, and once you take care of those, there’s—”
Han begins laughing again.
“What’s so funny?”
“Listen to you!” Han grins. “Since when were you a responsible businessman?”
Lando shakes his head ruefully. “Yeah, I suppose I’m responsible these days. It’s the price you pay for being successful.”
Leia is watching him. Listening. She notes a sudden something in his voice that she has not heard before. Maybe it’s regret, she tells herself.
The group walks on. C-3PO, tottering behind as usual, spies another protocol droid, a 3PO unit, emerging from a side room. “Oh, hello!” he calls.
“E chu ta!” replies the droid.
C-3PO stops, stunned. “How rude!”
(“E chu ta,” is, of course, Huttese. It is absolutely not appropriate to translate. Maybe when you’re older.)
Then, from the room from which the rude 3PO unit just emerged, C-3PO hears the characteristic beeping of an R2. “That sounds just like…” C-3PO exclaims. “I wonder…!”
As Lando leads the way around a corner and into the next hallway, C-3PO follows the beeping sounds, thinking that maybe, just maybe, he might find his friend.
He does not.
Instead, his eyes get very bright.
And then he is shot, right in the chest.
And he explodes.