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Dawn on Tatooine. A sandy-haired farmboy squints into the sun, worrying about his uncle and the harvest and the academy and the new droids and how much TROUBLE he’s in if the little one managed to get away.
A blade made of blue light; a strange hum rises and falls as he waves the sword experimentally. A…lightsaber? The weapon of a Jedi Knight…because his father was one. It’s too crazy to believe, and too amazing not to.
A dim cantina with lively music and more aliens than farmboy Luke has ever seen before. An arrogant pilot with a rogue’s charming grin, a six-foot Wookiee shadow, and a fast ship. —Who’s going to fly it, kid, you? —You bet I could! I’m not such a bad pilot myself!
A slim white figure in a sea of gray and black uniforms; handcuffed but defiant. Until Tarkin gives the order to fire.
A million voices cry out—and are suddenly silent.
Alderaan isn’t there. There isn’t ANYTHING there, except a small moon that’s no moon, it’s a space station.
A door slides open, and the sudden light hurts her eyes. A silhouette in the doorway…a little short for a stormtrooper. —I’m Luke Skywalker! I’m here to rescue you! Then it’s chaos and blaster bolts flying and someone’s gotta take charge and get them out of this mess because the idiot and the walking carpet and the blond kid sure aren’t going to.
A glimpse of two figures between two blast doors sliding shut. One collapses into nothing, and Luke is screaming as the others drag him into the ship.
Fireworks in outer space as pilots die one by one around him. Wedge is gone and there’s a TIE on his tail. He missed once but he’s gotta make it this time.
—Use the Force, Luke.
He turns off his targeting computer and lets the Force flow. Through him, through his fingers and the controls and the proton torpedoes and he did it! One giant firework in outer space.
The celebration is afterwards—medals from a princess, and was it only a few days ago that he was squinting into the Tatooine sun?
Ice on Hoth. Flat blank white wherever he looks, until out of the white there’s a claw and pain and blackness. Escape, and cold, and a message: Dagobah. Yoda.
Flying out of the crumbling Hoth base; sorry Leia, sorry Han, but I have to do this.
Stifling jungle air so humid that he can’t tell the condensation from the perspiration. It drips into his eyes as he balances upside down with his strange new teacher croaking instructions in his strange way.
The cold blackness of space and the annoying, infuriating, appealing warmth of that conceited idiot Han. She doesn’t like rogues and smugglers. She likes nice men! (—I’m a nice man. —No you’re not.)
Cloud City looks like hope and safety and civilization, until it turns out that civilization means stabbing you politely in the back with a cowardly excuse.
Vader’s torturing Han. She can hear the screams from here and she hates the sound, hates Lando, hates Vader for doing this and maybe she does like Han. Maybe more than a bit. Maybe he’ll die in the carbonite and she’ll never have another chance and she has to say it— I love you! —…I know.
Vader’s torturing Han. He can hear the screams from lightyears away in his dreams and they won’t leave him alone and he has to do something! Sorry Master Yoda, sorry Ben, but I have to save them.
Cloud City corridors and a glimpse of Leia being hustled past and she yells Luke, don’t, it’s a trap! but he has to rescue Han.
In the darkness he faces Vader. The man who killed his father. Does Vader even remember Anakin Skywalker? Does he remember killing him or was it just another murder among thousands? Luke tries to fight but Yoda was right, he’s not ready, and soon enough he’s trapped and cornered and ready for the deathblow:
—Luke. I am your father.
No! That’s impossible! He is spinning as he free-falls down because there’s nothing left to hold on to, everything is upside down and topsy-turvy and there’s only one person he can turn to. Leia! Hear me, Leia!
He’s safe with her in the Falcon but he’s not really safe, nowhere in the galaxy is safe any more.
Night. Jabba’s palace is filled with the snoring scum of the galaxy. A figure picks its way to the carbonite figure on the wall, punches the release— Who are you? —Someone who loves you.
Dawn on Tatooine. A sail barge is headed for the Pit of Carkoon. The prisoners squint into the sun and joke about their fate. The barge stops and the prisoners burst into motion, taking their guards unawares.
On his way to join the fleet but there’s one thing he has to do; he promised Yoda he’d come back but it’s almost too late. Just enough time for one last gift: There is another.
Heading to Endor with the rest of the strike team and Luke is afraid he’ll put the team in danger, afraid of facing Vader, but he can’t be afraid because fear is of the Dark Side. For this battle, he needs the Light.
One last thing to do before he leaves. Do you remember your mother? Your real mother? (—I know. Somehow I’ve always known.)
He’s facing Vader; no, Anakin Skywalker, because he believes that Anakin is still in there somewhere. He has to believe it. There is still good in you, I’ve felt it!
The Emperor is turning them against each other and they fight furiously, hatefully, father against son. But no, Luke refuses— I am a Jedi, like my father before me! The Emperor blasts him but the damage is done. Anakin has been awakened.
Luke pulls his father back from the edge of the abyss. He’s got to save him!
—Luke… you already have.