“Did I ever tell you how much I hate this Jedi stuff?” Han commented as he watched the battle from the relative safety of the Falcon 's cockpit. Luke had spent the past two days in meditation, and had finally pinpointed the location of the people who had his wife. By the time they arrived, however, the skies of Clak'dor VII were stained in their own blood and the entrails of a hundred different ships. Some of the ships still ringing the planet were of an unfamiliar make and design, so Han supposed those were the ones he wanted to get captured by. The irony was thick. “Do they know?” Han asked.