"If you're saying coming here was a bad idea, I'm beginning to agree with you," Luke admitted, looking around at their dismal surroundings. At least, he thought, there was human companionship on the ice world. Here, except for Artoo, there seemed to be nothing but this murky bog—and creatures, as yet unseen, that might lurk in the falling darkness.

　　Dusk was quickly approaching. Luke shivered in the thickening fog that closed in on him like something alive. He helped Artoo-Detoo back onto his feet, then wiped away the swamp muck that covered the droid's cylindrical body. As he worked, Luke heard eerie and inhuman cries that emanated from the distant jungle and shuddered as he imagined the beasts that might making them.

　　By the time he finished clearing off Artoo, Luke observed that the sky had grown noticeably darker. Shadows loomed ominously all around him and the distant cries didn't seem quite so far away anymore. He and Artoo glanced around at the spooky swamp-jungle surrounding them, then huddled a bit closer. Suddenly, Luke noticed a pair of tiny but vicious eyes winking at them through the shadowy underbrush, then vanishing with a scutter of diminutive feet.

　　He hesitated to doubt the advice of Ben Kenobi, but now he was beginning to wonder if that robed specter had somehow made a mistake leading him to this planet with its mysterious Jedi teacher.

　　He looked over at his X-wing and groaned when he saw that the entire bottom section was completely submerged in the dark water. "How are we going to get that thing flying again?" The whole set of circumstances seemed hopeless and somewhat ridiculous. "What are we doing here?" he moaned.

　　It was beyond the computerized abilities of Artoo to provide an answer for either of these questions, but he made a little comforting beep anyway.

　　"It's like part of a dream," Luke said. He shook his head, feeling cold and frightened. "Or maybe I'm going crazy." At least, he knew for certain, he couldn't have gotten himself into a crazier situation.