After donning a white parka, Han follows Sodarra outside. The Falcon lies completely buried in soft snow atop the glacier, but its crash has dug a long furrow which betrays its hidden resting place. Han’s heart sinks. Beating Alfreda to Tatooine will be impossible now – if he can get there at all! He has to restrain himself from hitting Sodarra. Leia’s life is in danger because the captain insisted upon bringing along his precious cargo. Han sticks his hands in his pockets and follows Sodarra along the furrow to a lookout’s position.
The Falcon has crashed into the bottom of an immense glacial valley, perhaps twenty kilometers across. On both sides of the valley, steep, rocky ridges rise a kilometer or more into the cloudy, grey-white sky. To Han’s left, the glacier continues fifteen kilometers up the valley before it turns sharply to the right and disappears behind a rocky gray cliff. To Han’s right, the glacier runs another five or six kilometers up the valley before it turns sharply to the right and disappears behind a rocky gray cliff. To Han’s right, the glacier runs another five or six kilometers, then abruptly drops away into a larger valley. Another ice-field fills the larger valley, and beyond it another immense, escarpment rises to block the horizon. Here and there, gray-streaked peaks of vast proportion stick their crowns above the ridge.
A lonely, cold wind blows intermittently down the valley, carrying with it powdery puffs of whirling snow. As magnificent as the landscape is, its sparseness oppresses Han. Everything – the sky, the glacier, the valley walls – is dirty gray. The occasional hints of color are too pale to accurately be labeled blue. Where the mountains find a way to poke through their wintery blankets, tehy reveal only rock ranging in shade from white-gray to black-gray. Even the sharply pointed trees dotting the ridges seem no more than dark specks in the snow.
The infrequent moaning of wind is the only sound. If creatures live nearby, they will not reveal their presence audibly. The snowy blanket muffles all noise, lapping at the wind and spreading a forlorn hush up and down the valley. The solitude of their position suddenly troubles Han – if they cannon repair the Falcon, their only hope of rescue may lie in capture! At the moment, Han would welcome the companionship of even some kithless predator’s hungry howl. At least that would prove something could survive in these barren wastes.
The lookout – one of the faceless stormtroopers belonging to Sodarra’s ‘company’ – points at the valley’s right wall, two kilometers distant. At first, Han sees only snow, the dark angles of trees, and gray outcroppings of stone. Eventually, a row of white lumps crosses in front of a gray outcropping.
“I count twelve, sir,” the trooper reports. “They haven’t seen us.”
Han studies the kilometer-long furrow behind the Falcon. “But if they cross the valley, they won’t miss this ditch.”
Sodarra nods. “No doubt. We must destroy them before they report our location.”
“They’ll drop out of sight when they reach the glacier edge,” the lookout reports. “The scouts reported a deep moraine trench along that whole wall. Perhaps we could deploy as they cross it?”
“Yes,” Captain Sodarra responds.
Han interrupts with his opinion. He sees two likely positions, and he wants to remind the ex-Imperials who is in charge. Either he and Chewie can work around behind the approaching squad, or they can wait, hiding in the furrow and hoping the Imperials investigate up close before reporting.
If Han suggests a rear attack, Click Here
If he recommends hiding in the furrow, Click Here