Star wars return of the jedi script pdf download

We're honored by your presence. You may dispense with the pleasantries, Commander. I'm here to put you back on. The commander turns ashen and begins to shake. I assure you, Lord Vader, my men are working as fast as they can. Perhaps I can find new ways to motivate them. I tell you, this station will be operational as planned. The Emperor does not share your optimistic appraisal of the situation. Then perhaps you can tell him when he arrives. The Emperor's coming here? That is correct, Commander.

And he is most displeased with your apparent lack of progress. We shall double our efforts. I hope so, Commander, for your sake. The Emperor is not as forgiving as I am. George Walton Lucas Jr. We're doing our best to make sure our content is useful, accurate and safe. If by any chance you spot an inappropriate comment while navigating through our website please use this form to let us know, and we'll take care of it shortly.

Forgot your password? Retrieve it. Sell your Screenplay ». Start writing now ». Chewie filled him in at length. What is he doing here? Han shook his head. Come on. Han nodded dubiously in the blackness. Standing outside in the dusty gale, staring into the black cavernous entranceway, was Luke Skywalker. He was clad in the robe of the Jedi Knight—a cassock, really — but bore neither gun nor lightsaber. He stood loosely, without bravado, taking a measure of the place before entering.

He was a man now. Wiser, like a man— older more from loss than from years. Loss of illusions, loss of dependency. Loss of friends, to war. Loss of sleep, to stress.

Loss of laughter. Loss of his hand. But of all his losses, the greatest was that which came from knowledge, and from the deep recognition that he could never unknow what he knew. He had aged with the weight of this knowledge. Knowledge brought benefits, of course. He was less impulsive now.

Manhood had given him perspective, a framework in which to fit the events of his life—that is, a lattice of spatial and time coordinates spanning his existence, back to earliest memories, ahead to a hundred alternative futures. A lattice of depths, and conundrums, and interstices, through which Luke could peer at any new event in his life, peer at it with perspective. And all these shadow boxes that lent such perspective to things Nothing of substance, of course—and in any case, some would have said this shading gave a depth to his personality, where before it had been thin, without dimension—though such a suggestion probably would have come from jaded critics, reflecting a jaded time.

Nonetheless, there was a certain darkness, now. There were other advantages to knowledge: rationality, etiquette, choice. Choice, of them all, was a true doubleedged sword; but it did have its advantages. He was more aware now. These were all desirable attributes, to be sure; and Luke knew as well as anyone that all things alive must grow.

Still, it carried a certain sadness, the sum of all this knowledge. A certain sense of regret. But who could knowledge. But who could afford to be a boy in times such as these? Resolutely, Luke strode into the arching hallway.

Almost immediately two Gamorreans stepped up, blocking his path. One spoke in a voice that did not invite debate. Before either could draw a weapon, they were both clutching their own throats, choking, gasping. They fell to their knees. Luke lowered his hand and walked on. The guards, suddenly able to breathe again, slumped to the sanddrifted steps.

Around the next corner Luke was met by Bib Fortuna. Fortuna began speaking as he approached the young Jedi, but Luke never broke stride, so Bib had to reverse his direction in mid-sentence and hurry along with Skywalker in order to carry on a conversation.

His Excellency will not see you. They passed several more guards at the next crossing, who fell in behind them. He locked eyes with the major-domo, raised his hand slightly, took a minutely inward turn.

What were his instructions? Oh, yes, now he remembered. Luke followed him into the gloom. Bib smiled smugly. Everyone felt the change. The lieutenant and the Jedi Knight approached the throne. She was chained at the neck and dressed in the skimpy costume of a dancing girl. For he needed to focus his attention entirely on Jabba. Leia, for her part, sensed this at once.

She closed her mind to Luke, to keep herself from distracting him; yet at the same time she kept it open, ready to receive any sliver of information she might need to act. She felt charged with possibilities. Threepio peeked out from behind the throne as Bib walked up. For the first time in many days, he scanned his hope program. Bib stood proudly before Jabba. Jabba, furious, bashed Bib across the face and sent him reeling to the floor. I am not affected by your human thought pattern.

You can either profit from this Jabba laughed the laugh of a lion cautioned by a mouse. Jabba cut short his laugh with a scowl. I shall enjoy watching you die. Luke pointed the weapon at Jabba. Jabba spat. The trap door immediately closed again. All the beasts of the court rushed to the floor-grating and looked down. She felt part of her self torn away, pulled down into the pit with him. She started forward, but was held in check by the manacle around her throat.

Raucous laughter crowded in from everywhere at once, set her on edge. She poised to flee. A human guard touched her shoulder. She looked. It was Lando. Imperceptibly, he shook his head. Imperceptibly, her muscles relaxed.

All the cards were here, now—Luke, Han, Leia, Chewbacca The stakes were just too high. In the pit below, Luke picked himself up off the floor. He found he was now in a large cavelike dungeon, the walls formed of craggy boulders pocked with lightless crevices. The half-chewed bones of countless animals were strewn over the floor, smelling of decayed flesh and twisted fear.

The guard beside him suddenly began to scream uncontrollably, as a door in the side of the cave slowly rumbled open. With infinite calm, Luke surveyed his surroundings as he removed his long robe down to his Jedi tunic, to give him more freedom of movement. He backed quickly to the wall and crouched there, watching.

Out of the side passage emerged the giant Rancor. The Out of the side passage emerged the giant Rancor. The size of an elephant, it was somehow reptilian, somehow as unformed as a nightmare. Its huge screeching mouth was asymmetrical in its head, its fangs and claws set all out of proportion. It was clearly a mutant, and wild as all unreason. The guard picked up the pistol from the dirt where it had fallen and began firing laser bursts at the hideous monster.

This only made the beast angrier. It lumbered toward the guard. The guard kept firing. Ignoring the laser blasts, the beast grabbed the hysterical guard, popped him into its slavering jaws, and swallowed him in a gulp. The audience above cheered, laughed, and threw coins. The monster then turned and started for Luke. But the Jedi Knight leaped eight meters straight up and grabbed onto the overhead grate.

The crowd began to boo. Hand over hand, Luke traversed the grating toward the corner of the cave, struggling to maintain his grip as the audience jeered his efforts. One hand slipped on the oily grid, and he dangled precariously over the baying mutant. Two jawas ran across the top of the grate. The Rancor pawed at Luke from below, but the Jedi dangled just out of reach.

Suddenly Luke released his hold and dropped directly onto the eye of the howling monster; he then tumbled to the floor. The Rancor screamed in pain and stumbled, swatting its own face to knock away the agony. It ran in circles a few times, then spotted Luke again and came at him. Luke stooped down to pick up the long bone of an earlier victim. He brandished it before him. The gallery above thought this was hilarious and hooted in delight. The monster grabbed Luke and brought him up to its salivating mouth.

The Rancor bellowed and flailed about, running headlong into a wall. Several rocks were dislodged, starting an avalanche that nearly buried Luke, as he crouched deep in a crevice near the floor.

The crowd clapped in unison. Luke tried to clear his mind. Fear is a great cloud, Ben used to tell him. It makes the cold colder and the dark darker; but let it rise and it will dissolve. It was not an evil beast, that much was clear. Had it been purely malicious, its wickedness could easily have been turned on itself --for pure evil, Ben had said, was always self-destructive in the end. Hungry and in pain, it lashed out at whatever came near. No, he was going to have to keep his mind clear—that was all--and just outwit the savage brute, to put it out of its misery.

He considered, next, giving the creature the means to do itself in—to end its own pain. Unfortunately, the creature was far too angered to comprehend the solace of the void. Luke finally began studying the specific contours of the cave, to try to come up with a specific plan.

The Rancor, meanwhile, had knocked the bone from its mouth and, enraged, was scrabbling through the rubble of fallen rocks, searching for Luke. Luke, though his vision was partially obscured by the pile that still sheltered him, could see now past the monster, to a holding cave beyond—and beyond that, to a utility door. If only he could get to it. The Rancor knocked away a boulder and spotted Luke recoiling in the crevice.

Voraciously, it reached in to pluck the boy out. As the Rancor jumped, howling in pain once more, Luke ran for the holding cave. He reached the doorway and ran in.

Before him, a heavy He reached the doorway and ran in. Before him, a heavy barred gate blocked the way. They looked up as Luke entered, then stood and walked toward the gate. Luke turned around to see the monster coming angrily after him.

He turned back to the gate and tried to open it. The keepers poked at him with their two-pronged spears, jabbed at him through the bars, laughing and chewing their food, as the Rancor drew closer to the young Jedi.

Luke backed against the side wall, as the Rancor reached in the room for him. Suddenly he saw the restraining-door control panel halfway up the opposite wall. The Rancor began to enter the holding room, closing for the kill, when all at once Luke picked up a skull off the floor and hurled it at the panel.

Those in the audience above gasped as one, then were silent. They were all truly stunned at this bizarre turn of events.

They all looked to Jabba, who was apoplectic with rage. Never had he felt such fury. Bring me Solo and the Wookiee. They will all suffer for this outrage. The Rancor keeper wept openly and threw himself down on the body of his dead pet. Life would be a lonely proposition for him from that day. Han and Chewie were led before the steaming Jabba.

Han still squinted and stumbled every few feet. Threepio stood behind the Hutt, unbearably apprehensive.

Jabba kept Leia on a short tether, stroking her hair to try to calm himself. A constant murmuring filled the room, as calm himself. A constant murmuring filled the room, as the rabble speculated on what was going to happen to whom. With a flurry, several guards—including Lando Calrissian--dragged Luke in across the room. To give them passage, the courtiers parted like an unruly sea. When Luke, too, was standing before the throne, he nudged Solo with a smile.

There seemed to be no end to the number of friends he kept bumping into. Are you in this mess now, too? For just a moment, he almost felt like a boy again. He felt one hundred percent relaxed. Just like old times—but a second later, a bleak thought chilled him. Is sh Besides, the sight of all of her friends there at once made her feel nearly invincible. Han, Luke, Chewie, Lando—even Threepio was skulking around somewhere, trying to be forgotten.

Leia almost laughed out loud, almost punched Jabba in the nose. She could barely restrain herself. She wanted to hug them all. Suddenly Jabba shouted; the entire room was immediately silent. Jabba could be so pompous, sometimes, and now with old Goldenrod, there, making his pronouncements No matter what else, Threepio simply hated being interrupted.

He collected himself, nonetheless, and continued. In his belly you will find a new definition of pain and suffering, as you slowly digest for a thousand years. A thousand years was a bit much.

Chewie barked his whole-hearted agreement. Luke only smiled. He found Jabba despicable—a leech of the galaxy, sucking the life from whatever he touched. Luke wanted to burn the villain, and so was actually rather glad Jabba had refused to bargain—for now Luke would get his wish precisely. Of course, his primary objective was to free his friends, whom he loved dearly; it was this concern that guided him now, above all else. Jabba chortled evilly. Poor Rancor. A loud cheer rose from the crowd as the prisoners were carried off.

She sighed deeply, to expel her doubts. Its sand-blasted iron hull creaked in the slight breeze, each puff of wind coughing into the two huge sails as if even nature suffered some terminal malaise wherever it came near Jabba.

He was belowdecks, now, with most of his court, hiding the decay of his spirit from the cleansing sun. Alongside the barge, two small skiffs floated in formation —one an escort craft, bearing six scruffy soldiers; the other, a gun skiff, containing the prisoners: Han, Chewie, Luke. They were all in bonds, and surrounded by armed guards—Barada, two Weequays. And Lando Calrissian. Barada was the no-nonsense sort, and not likely to let anything get out of hand. He carried a long-gun as if he wanted nothing more than to hear it speak.

The Weequays were an odd sort. They were brothers, leathery and bald save for a tribal top-knot, braided and worn to the side. No one was certain whether Weequay was the name of their tribe, or their species; or whether all in their tribe were brothers, or all were named Weequays. It was known only that these two were called by this name, and that they treated all other creatures indifferently.

With each other they were gentle, even tender; but like Barada, they seemed anxious for the prisoners to misbehave. And Lando, of course, remained silent, ready—waiting for an opportunity.

Han kept his ear tuned, for his eyes were still useless. And, of course—as always— he spoke just to hear himself speak. Nothing ever to do here, really, for man or boy, but cruise the monotonous dunes and try to avoid the peevish Tusken Raiders who guarded the sand as if it were gold-dust.

Luke knew this place. Luke thought of him now with great love, and great sorrow. Taken him there after Imperial storm-troopers had murdered Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru, searching for the fugitive droids, Artoo and Threepio. Like a recurring dream he knew this place; and he had sworn then that he would never return.

I had to get you out of there. Just stay close to Chewie and Lando. A fast ship and a good blaster are what Han believed in, and he wished he had them now.

Jabba sat in the main cabin of the Sail Barge, surrounded by his entire retinue. The party at the palace was simply continuing, in motion—the result being a slightly wobblier brand of carousing--more in the nature of a prelynching celebration. So blood lust and belligerence were testing new levels.

Threepio was way out of his depth. At the moment, he was being forced to translate an argument between Ephant Mon and Ree-Yees, concerning a point of quark warfare that was marginally beyond him. Ephant concluded the oration with a typically bellicose avowal.

All three eyes dilated in fury. See Threepio felt this response needed no translation, and took the opportunity to slip to the rear—where he promptly bumped into a small droid serving drinks.

The drinks spilled everywhere. The stubby little droid let out a fluent series of irate beeps, toots, and whistles—recognizable to Threepio instantly. He looked down in utter relief. What are you doing here? But this place is dangerous. Jabba chuckled to see Ephant Mon go down—he loved Jabba chuckled to see Ephant Mon go down—he loved a good beating. He especially loved to see strength crumble, to see the proud fall.

Soon you will begin to appreciate me. Leia opened her mouth and she closed her mind. The worse things she knew well. She had almost broken. Tortured her body first, with his efficient pain-droids. Needles, pressure points, fire-knives, electrojabbers.

She slid a few feet away from Jabba, now, as his attention was distracted—moved to peer out the slats in the louvered windows, to squint through the dusty sunlight at the skiff on which her rescuers were being carried. It was stopping. The whole convoy was stopping, in fact, over a huge sand pit.

The Sail Barge moved to one side of the giant depression, with the escort skiff. At the bottom of the deep cone of sand, a repulsive, mucus-lined, pink, membranous hole puckered, almost unmoving. The hole was eight feet in diameter, its perimeter clustered with three rows of inwardly-directed needle-sharp teeth.

Sand stuck to the mucus that lined the sides of the opening, occasionally sliding into the black cavity at the center. This was the mouth of the Sarlacc. Jabba moved his party up to the observation deck. Luke rubbed his wrists to restore circulation.

The heat shimmering off the desert warmed his soul—for finally, this would always be his home. Born and bred in a Bantha patch. He saw Leia standing at the rail of the big barge, and winked. She winked back. Jabba motioned Threepio to his side, then mumbled orders to the golden droid.

Threepio stepped up to the comlink. Jabba raised his arm, and the whole motley array of intergalactic pirates fell silent. This did not scan at all. Someone had obviously mislaid the correct program. Nonetheless, he was only a droid, his functions well delineated. Translation only, no free will please. He shook his head and continued. Chewie reached over and turned Solo around, so he was now properly facing the piece of worm-ridden filth he was addressing.

Han nodded, without stopping. Luke was ready. The monsters on the barge roared with laughter. Artoo, during this commotion, rolled silently up the ramp to the side of the upper deck. Jabba raised his hand, and his minions were quiet. Then he turned his thumb down. Luke looked up at Artoo, standing alone by the rail, and flipped the little droid a jaunty salute. Luke jumped off the plank; another bloodthirsty cheer went up. In less than a second, though, Luke had spun around in freefall, and caught the end of the plank with his fingertips.

The thin metal bent wildly from his weight, paused near to snapping, then catapulted him up. Casually, he extended his arm to his side, palm up—and suddenly, his lightsaber, which Artoo had shot sailing toward him, dropped neatly into his open hand. With Jedi speed, Luke ignited his sword and attacked the guard at the skiff-edge of the plank, sending him, screaming, overboard into the twitching mouth of the Sarlacc. The other guards swarmed toward Luke.

Grimly he waded into them, lightsaber flashing. Darth Vader, who had told Luke he his hand as well. Darth Vader, who had told Luke he was his father. He wielded it now as if it were fused to his hand; as if it were an extension of his own arm. He cut through the onslaught like a light dissolving shadows. Lando grappled with the helmsman, trying to seize the controls of the skiff.

Luke picked himself up and ran toward the helmsman, lightsaber raised. The creature retreated at the overpowering sight, stumbled The bewildered guard landed in the soft, sandy slope of the pit and began an inexorable slide down toward the toothy, viscous opening.

He clawed desperately at the sand, screaming. All this happened in a matter of seconds. When he saw what was happening, Jabba exploded in a rage, and yelled furious commands at those around him. In a moment, there was general uproar, with creatures running through every door.

It was during this directionless confusion that Leia acted. Then she dove off the other side of the support, pulling the chain violently in her grasp. With a strength beyond her own strength, she pulled. He bucked with his huge torso, nearly breaking her fingers, bucked with his huge torso, nearly breaking her fingers, nearly yanking her arms from their sockets.

He could get no leverage, his bulk was too unwieldy. But just his sheer mass was almost enough to break any mere physical restraint. She closed her eyes, closed out the pain in her hands, focused all of her life-force—and all it was able to channel—into squeezing the breath from the horrid creature. With a last gasping effort, Jabba tensed every muscle and lurched forward.

His reptilian eyes began to bulge from their sockets as the chain tightened; his oily tongue flopped from his mouth. His thick tail twitched in spasms of effort, until he finally lay still--deadweight. Leia set about trying to free herself from the chain at her neck, while outside, the battle began to rage.

Boba Fett ignited his rocket pack, leaped into the air, and with a single effort flew down from the barge to the skiff just as Luke finished freeing Han and Chewie from their bonds.

A series of blasts suddenly erupted from the large cannon on the upper deck of the barge, hitting the skiff broadside, and rocking it forty degrees askew. Lando was tossed from the deck, but at the last moment he grabbed a broken strut and dangled desperately above the Sarlacc.

Wounded, the Wookiee howled in pain. Luke looked over at his hairy friend; whereupon Boba Fett, taking advantage of that moment of distraction, fired a cable from out of his armored sleeve. The cable wrapped itself several times around Luke, pinning his arms to his sides, his sword arm now free only from the wrist down. He bent his wrist, so the lightsaber pointed straight up In a moment, the lightsaber touched the end of the wire lasso, cutting through it instantly.

Luke shrugged the cable away, just as another blast hit the skiff, knocking Boba unconscious to the deck. Unfortunately this explosion also dislodged the strut from which Lando was hanging, sending him careening into the Sarlacc pit.

Luke was shaken by the explosion, but unhurt. Lando hit the sandy slope, shouted for help, and tried to scramble out. The loose sand only tumbled him deeper toward the gaping hole. Lando closed his eyes and tried to think of all the ways he might give the Sarlacc a thousand years of indigestion. Maybe if he talked that last guard out of his uniform It was a Jedi rule-of-thumb, but it took the soldiers in the second skiff by surprise: when outnumbered, attack.

This drives the force of the enemy in toward himself. Luke jumped directly into the center of the skiff and immediately began decimating them in their midst with lightning sweeps of his lightsaber.

Back in the other boat, Chewie tried to untangle himself from the wreckage, as Han struggled blindly to his feet. Chewie barked at him, trying to direct him toward a spear lying loose on the deck. Lando screamed, starting to slide closer to the glistening jaws. At last, Han locked onto the spear.

Boba Fett stumbled up just then, still a little dizzy from Boba Fett stumbled up just then, still a little dizzy from the exploding shell.

He looked over at the other skiff, where Luke was in a pitched battle with six guards. With one hand Boba steadied himself on the rail; with the other he aimed his weapon at Luke. Chewie barked at Han. Chewie barked. Instinctively, Fett blocked the blow with his forearm; again, he aimed at Luke. Chewie barked frantically. The impact caused the rocket to ignite.

Boba blasted off unexpectedly, shooting over the second skiff like a missile and ricocheting straight down into the pit. His foot caught on the railing, though, leaving him swinging precariously above the Sarlacc. The wounded Wookiee tenaciously held on to the twisted debris astern. Luke finished going through his adversaries on the second skiff, assessed the problem quickly, and leaped across the chasm of sand to the sheer metal side of the huge barge.

Slowly, he began a handover-hand climb up the hull, toward the deck gun. Meanwhile, on the observation deck, Leia had been intermittently struggling to break the chain which bound her to the dead gangster, and hiding behind his massive carcass whenever some guard ran by. She stretched her full length, now, trying to retrieve a discarded laser pistol —to no avail. Fortunately, Artoo at last came to her rescue, after having first lost his bearings and rolled down rescue, after having first lost his bearings and rolled down the wrong plank.

He zipped up to her finally, extended a cutting appendage from the side of his casing, and sliced through her bonds. On the way, they passed Threepio, lying on the floor, screaming, as a giant, tuberous hulk named Hermi Odle sat on him.

Not my eyes! Threepio quickly rose, his eye dangling from a sheaf of wires; then he and Artoo hurriedly followed Leia out the back door. The deck gun blasted the tilting skiff once more, shaking The deck gun blasted the tilting skiff once more, shaking out virtually everything that remained inside except Chewbacca.

Desperately holding on with his injured arm, he was stretching over the rail, grasping the ankle of the dangling Solo, who was, in turn, sightlessly reaching down for the terrified Calrissian. Lando had managed to stop his slippage by lying very still. Chewie barked another direction at Han. He lit his lightsaber before they could squeeze off a shot; a moment later they were smoking corpses.

Share to Facebook. For print-disabled users. Books to Borrow. Books for People with Print Disabilities. Star Wars: Return of the Jedi is an arcade game created by Atari in and despite the title of the third movie, it's the sequel to the first Star Wars game the third game, The