Never tell me the odds, Han Solo replied, steering the Millennium Falcon into the asteroid field. Stay on target, stay on target, Gold Leader repeated as the Death Star loomed ahead. I’ve got a bad feeling about this, Han said, and the walls of the trash compactor began to close. Do or do not, there is no try, said Yoda, lifting the X-wing from the swamp. I know, Han replied when Leia told him she loved him, and then the carbonite froze him solid.