Ian Doescher: William Shakespeare's The Empire Striketh Back

I prithee, say again: shall only two
Of our small fighters match a Star Destroy’r?

Pray, screw your courage to the sticking place.
Our ion cannons shall with lethal fire
Make ev’ry pathway clear. When you have clear’d
The shield of energy, then go anon
Unto our rendezvous. Do all agree?
Will ye all go in great rebellion’s name?

Aye, Princess, aye!

—We shall heed thy command.

Now ev’ryone unto their stations, go!

[ to Controller: ] Belike the power generators will
Their prim’ry target be. Prepare thou now
To open up the shield. And may the Force
Attend our swift retreat, our hearts inspire!

Now standby ion cannon; aye, and fire.

The transports make their way deep into space;
The ion cannon leads as they take flight.
But now the rebels grave new dangers face,
As th’Empire sends a ground assault to fight.

How dost thou fare, good Sir? For I have heard
Of your unlucky recent incident.
How is it with thee after the attack?

Quite well, I thank thee, Dack. And art thou well?

Aye, truthfully, Commander—I do feel
I could the Empire overthrow myself,
If I were giv’n the opportunity.
A single warrior to bring them down,
A single hand to show rebellion’s strength,
A single mind that could outwit them all,
A single Dack to best the Empire’s might.

O noble soul, how like a soldier said!
It seems that thou and I are fashion’d from
One cloth—one fabric knits our souls together.
The feeling you express is one I’ve known.
Indeed, it is a potent privilege,
But also brings responsibility.

But who did bid thee join with us?

—Piett.
’Twas he who order’d me to come with ye
To crush the rebels and their little base.

Well said, for I know of no baser base—
’Twill be a vict’ry great when ’tis destroy’d.
But think ye we shall in this fight prevail?
The rebels are a force formidable.

My friends, we have had quite enough of talk:
The battle is upon us, let us go.
And ye who doubt, I pray remember this:
Although we are but AT-ATs gray and plain,
We have a noble task to undertake—
Our mighty Emperor’s reign to protect,
The great Darth Vader to obey and aid,
And Admiral Piett to serve with pride.
So shall an AT-AT swoon before the fight,
Or should our legs be shaken ere th’assault?
Have we been made to cower? I say nay!
An AT-AT should be made of sterner stuff.

[ to AT-AT 2: ] I pray, good walker, is he ever thus?

Aye, truly, Sir, I never yet have met
An All Terrain Armorèd Transport who
Is loftier of mind than this one here.
Indeed, although like us he’s made of steel,
He never enters battle zones unless
He hath made some great speech to steel his nerves.
It does no harm.

—No harm, but to mine ears.
I’d rather fight than hear another speech.

Now let us go, these rebels to destroy!

[ to rebel pilots: ] Now stay together, men.

—Alas, good Luke,
The ship’s computer hath malfunction’d. O,
I am not set for this attack!

—Be patient.
We shall use pattern delta now, anon!

rebels quickly retreat.
A hit! A very palpable hit. Wait,
Although my shots have found their mark, their blasts
Have no effect. It is their armor, fie!
Our blasters are too weak to penetrate
The strength of their robust exteriors.
Rogue group, use thy harpoons and cables, too.
Let us go for their legs and trip them up—
Perhaps they may be bested from beneath.
Dack, art thou with me?

—This malfunction hath
Put fire into the system. I’ll attempt
To quickly gain some pow’r another way.

I prithee, be thou careful now, young Dack!

Alas, I die! Farewell, Commander Luke!

Nay, Dack! O agony of battle, curse
Of war, and dread of ev’ry soldier’s heart:
To suffer at the hands of enemies,
To end one’s days by pow’r of the unjust!
What use is war? For it doth ravage all
Within its path, and what hath it e’er solv’d?
’Tis rare that peace doth follow in war’s wake.
Indeed, this recent blow doth only urge
And heighten my destructive sentiments:
I shall avenge thee, Dack, and slay these here
Who have thy lifeblood ta’en, and seal’d thy fate.

No more of these amusements with the weak.
’Tis time to make this victory our own:
Head for the power generator, mates,
The battle’s nearly won!

—Rogue Three, dost hear?

I do, Rogue Leader.

—Wedge, I need thee now.
I’ve lost my gunner: thou must strike their legs
With thy harpoon. I’ll give thee aid—we’ll fly
Together, follow close behind me.

—Aye!
Now activate harpoon and slay these beasts!

What treachery! The rebels have assail’d
My weakest part. My legs, good comrades—they
Have struck where I most vulnerable am.

Well hit, brave Janson. Now encircle him
And bring this giant down to meet his end.
It worketh, friends! His legs hath been confin’d,
And thus the brute hath trouble with his stride.
Just one more pass around, and then detach!