by George Lucas
“I don’t like it,” growled Red Leader. But there was nothing to confuse their approach now, no energy bolts to avoid.
It was Pops who was first to properly evaluate this seeming aberration on the enemy’s part. “Stabilize your rear deflectors now. Watch for enemy fighters.”
“You pinned it, Pops,” Red Leader admitted, studying a readout. “Here they come. Three marks at two-ten.”
A mechanical voice continued to recite the shrinking distance to their target, but it wasn’t shrinking fast enough. “We’re sitting ducks down here,” he observed nervously.
“We’ll just have to ride it out,” the old man told them all. “We can’t defend ourselves and go for the target at the same time.” He fought down old reflexes as his own screen revealed three TIE fighters in precision formation diving almost vertically down toward them.
“Three-eight-one-oh-four,” Darth Vader announced as he calmly adjusted his controls. The stars whipped past behind him. “I’ll take them myself. Cover me.”
Red Two was the first to die, the young pilot never knowing what hit him, never seeing his executioner. Despite his experience, Red Leader was on the verge of panic when he saw his wingman dissolve in flame.
“We’re trapped down here. No way to maneuver—trench walls are too close. We’ve got to loosen it up somehow. Got—”
“Stay on target,” admonished an older voice. “Stay on target.”
Red Leader took Pops’s words like tonic, but it was all he could do to ignore the closing TIE fighters as the two remaining Y-wings continued to streak toward the target.
Above them, Vader permitted himself a moment of undisciplined pleasure as he readjusted his targeting ’puter. The rebel craft continued to travel a straight, unevasive course. Again Vader touched finger to fire control.
Something screeched in Red Leader’s helmet, and fire started to consume his instrumentation. “It’s no good,” he yelled into his pickup, “I’m hit. I’m hit …!”
A second Y-wing exploded in a ball of vaporized metal, scattering a few solid shards of debris across the trench. This second loss proved too much even for Red Five to take. He manipulated controls, and his ship commenced rising in a slow curve out of the trench. Behind him, the lead Imperial fighter moved to follow.
“Red Five to Blue Leader,” he reported. “Aborting run under heavy fire. TIE fighters dropped on us out of nowhere. I can’t—wait—”
Astern, a silent, remorseless enemy was touching a deadly button once more. The first bolts struck just as Pops had risen high enough to commence evasive action. But he had pulled clear a few seconds too late.
One energy beam seared his port engine, igniting gas within. The engine blew apart, taking controls and stabilizing elements with it. Unable to compensate, the out-of-control Y-wing began a long, graceful plunge toward the station surface.
“Are you all right, Red Five?” a troubled voice called over the intership system.
“Lost Tiree … lost Dutch,” Pops explained slowly, tiredly. “They drop in behind you, and you can’t maneuver in the trench. Sorry … it’s your baby now. So long, Dave.… ”
It was the last message of many from a veteran.
Blue Leader forced a crispness he didn’t feel into his voice as he tried to shunt aside the death of his old friend. “Blue boys, this is Blue Leader. Rendezvous at mark six point one. All wings report in.”
“Blue Leader, this is Blue Ten. I copy.”
“Blue Two here,” Wedge acknowledged. “Coming toward you, Blue Leader.”
Luke was also waiting his turn to report when something beeped on his control board. A glance backward confirmed the electronic warning as he spotted an Imperial fighter slipping in behind him.
“This is Blue Five,” he declared, his ship wobbling as he tried to lose the TIE fighter. “I have a problem here. Be right with you.”
He sent his ship into a steep dive toward the metal surface, then cut sharply up to avoid a burst of defensive fire from emplacements below. Neither maneuver shook his pursuit.
“I see you, Luke,” came a reassuring call from Biggs. “Stay with it.”
Luke looked above, below, and to the sides, but there was no sign of his friend. Meanwhile, energy bolts from his trailing assailant were passing uncomfortably close.
“Blast it, Biggs, where are you?”
Something appeared, not to the sides or behind, but almost directly in front of him. It was bright and moving incredibly fast, and then it was firing just above him. Taken completely by surprise, the Imperial fighter came apart just as its pilot realized what had happened.
Luke turned for the rendezvous mark as Biggs shot past overhead. “Good move, Biggs. Fooled me, too.”
“I’m just getting started,” his friend announced as he twisted his ship violently to avoid the fire from below. He hove into view over Luke’s shoulder and executed a victory roll. “Just point me at the target.”
Back alongside Yavin’s indifferent bulk, Dodonna finished an intense discussion with several of his principal advisors, then moved to the long-range transmitter.
“Blue Leader, this is Base One. Double-check your own attack prior to commencement. Have your wingmen hold back and cover for you. Keep half your group out of range to make the next run.”
“Copy, Base One,” the response came. “Blue Ten, Blue Twelve, join with me.”
Two ships leveled off to flank the squadron commander. Blue Leader checked them out. Satisfied that they were positioned properly for the attack run, he set the group to follow in case they should fail.
“Blue Five, this is Blue Leader, Luke, take Blue Two and Three with you. Hold up here out of their fire and wait for my signal to start your own run.”
“Copy, Blue Leader,” Luke acknowledged, trying to slow his heart slightly. “May the force be with you. Biggs, Wedge, let’s close it up.” Together, the three fighters assumed a tight formation high above the firefight still raging between other rebel craft of Green and Yellow squadrons and the Imperial gunners below.
The horizon flip-flopped ahead of Blue Leader as he commenced his approach to the station surface. “Blue Ten, Blue Twelve, stay back until we spot those fighters, then cover me.”
All three X-wings reached the surface, leveled off, then arced into the trench. His wingmen dropped farther and farther behind until Blue Leader was seemingly alone in the vast gray chasm.
No defensive fire greeted him as he raced toward the distant target. He found himself looking around nervously, checking and rechecking the same instruments.
“This doesn’t look right,” he found himself muttering.
Blue Ten sounded equally concerned. “You should be able to pick up the target by now.”
“I know. The disruption down here is unbelievable. I think my instruments are off. Is this the right trench?”
Suddenly, intense streaks of light began to shoot close by as the trench defenses opened up. Near misses shook the attackers. At the far end of the trench a huge tower dominated the metal ridge, vomiting enormous amounts of energy at the nearing ships.
“It’s not going to be easy with that tower up there,” Blue Leader declared grimly. “Stand by to close up a little when I tell you.”
Abruptly the energy bolts ceased and all was silent and dark in the trench once again. “This is it,” Blue Leader announced, trying to locate the attack from above that had to be coming. “Keep your eyes open for those fighters.”
“All short- and long-range scopes are blank,” Blue Ten reported tensely. “Too much interference here. Blue Five, can you see them from where you are?”
Luke’s attention was riveted to the surface of the station. “No sign of—Wait!” Three rapidly moving points of light caught his eye. “There they are. Coming in point three five.”
Blue Ten turned and looked in the indicated direction. Sun bounced off stabilizing fins as the TIE fighters looped downward. “I see them.”
“It’s the right trench, all rig
ht,” Blue Leader exclaimed as his tracking scope suddenly began a steady beeping. He adjusted his targeting instrumentation, pulling his visor down over his eyes. “I’m almost in range. Targets ready … coming up. Just hold them off me for a few seconds—keep ’em busy.”
But Darth Vader was already setting his own fire control as he dropped like a stone toward the trench. “Close up the formation. I’ll take them myself.”
Blue Twelve went first, both engines blown. A slight deviation in flight path and his ship slammed into the trench wall. Blue Ten slowed and accelerated, bobbed drunkenly, but could do little within the confines of those metal walls.
“I can’t hold them long. You’d better fire while you can, Blue Leader—we’re closing on you.”
The squadron commander was wholly absorbed in lining up two circles within his targeting visor. “We’re almost home. Steady, steady …”
Blue Ten glanced around frantically. “They’re right behind me!”
Blue Leader was amazed at how calm he was. The targeting device was partly responsible, enabling him to concentrate on tiny, abstract images to the exclusion of all else, helping him to shut out the rest of the inimical universe.
“Almost there, almost there …” he whispered. Then the two circles matched, turned red, and a steady buzzing sounded in his helmet. “Torpedoes away, torpedoes away.”
Immediately after, Blue Ten let his own missiles loose. Both fighters pulled up sharply, just clearing the end of the trench as several explosions billowed in their wake.
“It’s a hit! We’ve done it!” Blue Ten shouted hysterically.
Blue Leader’s reply was thick with disappointment. “No, we haven’t. They didn’t go in. They just exploded on the surface outside the shaft.”
Disappointment killed them, too, as they neglected to watch behind them. Three pursuing Imperial fighters continued up out of the fading light from the torpedo explosions. Blue Ten fell to Vader’s precision fire, then the Dark Lord changed course slightly to fall in behind the squadron commander.
“I’ll take the last one,” he announced coldly. “You two go back.”
Luke was trying to pick the assault team out of the glowing gases below when Blue Leader’s voice sounded over the communicator.
“Blue Five, this is Blue Leader. Move into position, Luke. Start your attack run—stay low and wait until you’re right on top of it. It’s not going to be easy.”
“Are you all right?”
“They’re on top of me—but I’ll shake them.”
“Blue Five to Blue pack,” Luke ordered, “let’s go!” The three ships peeled off and plunged toward the trench sector.
Meanwhile Vader finally succeeded in hitting his quarry, a glancing bolt that nonetheless started small, intense explosions in one engine. Its R-2 unit scrambled back toward the damaged wing and struggled to repair the crippled power plant.
“R-2, shut off the main feed to number-one starboard engine,” Blue Leader directed quietly, staring resignedly at instruments which were running impossibilities. “Hang on tight, this could get rough.”
Luke saw that Blue Leader was in trouble. “We’re right above you, Blue Leader,” he declared. “Turn to point oh five, and we’ll cover for you.”
“I’ve lost my upper starboard engine,” came the reply.
“We’ll come down for you.”
“Negative, negative. Stay there and get set up for your attack run.”
“You’re sure you’re all right?”
“I think so … Stand by for a minute.”
Actually, it was somewhat less than a minute before Blue Leader’s gyrating X-wing plowed into the surface of the station.
Luke watched the huge explosion dissipate below him, knowing without question its cause, sensing fully for the first time the helplessness of his situation. “We just lost Blue Leader,” he murmured absently, not particularly caring if his mike picked up the somber announcement.
On Yavin Four, Leia Organa rose from her chair and nervously began pacing the room. Normally perfect nails were now jagged and uneven from nervous chewing. It was the only indication of physical unease. The anxiety visible in her expression was far more revealing of her feelings, an anxiety and worry that filled the war room on the announcement of Blue Leader’s death.
“Can they go on?” she finally asked Dodonna.
The General replied with gentle resolve. “They must.”
“But we’ve lost so many. Without Blue or Red Leader, how will they regroup?”
Dodonna was about to reply, but held his words as more critical ones sounded over the speakers.
“Close it up, Wedge,” Luke was saying, thousands of kilometers away. “Biggs, where are you?”
“Coming in right behind you.”
Wedge replied soon after. “Okay, Boss, we’re in position.”
Dodonna’s gaze went to Leia. He looked concerned.
The three X-wings moved close together high above the battle station’s surface. Luke studied his instruments and fought irritably with one control that appeared to be malfunctioning.
Someone’s voice sounded in his ears. It was a young-old voice, a familiar voice: calm, content, confident, and reassuring—a voice he had listened to intently on the desert of Tatooine and in the guts of the station below, once upon a time.
“Trust your feelings, Luke,” was all the Kenobi-like voice said.
Luke tapped his helmet, unsure whether he had heard anything or not. This was no time for introspection. The steely horizon of the station tilted behind him.
“Wedge, Biggs, we’re going in,” he told his wingmen. “We’ll go in full speed. Never mind finding the trench and then accelerating. Maybe that will keep those fighters far enough behind us.”
“We’ll stay far enough back to cover you,” Biggs declared. “At that speed will you be able to pull out in time?”
“Are you kidding?” Luke sneered playfully as they began their dive toward the surface. “It’ll be just like Beggars Canyon back home.”
“I’m right with you, Boss,” noted Wedge, emphasizing the title for the first time. “Let’s go …”
At high speed the three slim fighters charged the glowing surface, pulling out after the last moment. Luke skimmed so close over the station hull that the tip of one wing grazed a protruding antenna, sending metal splinters flying. Instantly they were enveloped in a meshwork of energy bolts and explosive projectiles. It intensified as they dropped down into the trench.
“We seem to have upset them,” Biggs chortled, treating the deadly display of energy as though it were all a show being put on for their amusement.
“This is fine,” Luke commented, surprised at the clear view ahead. “I can see everything.”
Wedge wasn’t quite as confident as he studied his own readouts. “My scope shows the tower, but I can’t make out the exhaust port. It must be awfully small. Are you sure the computer can target it?”
“It better,” Biggs muttered.
Luke didn’t offer an evaluation—he was too busy holding a course through the turbulence produced by exploding bolts. Then, as if on command, the defensive fire ceased. He glanced around and up for signs of the expected TIE fighters, but saw nothing.
His hand went to drop the targeting visor into position, and for just a moment he hesitated. Then he swung it down in front of his eyes. “Watch yourselves,” he ordered his companions.
“What about the tower?” Wedge asked worriedly.
“You worry about those fighters,” Luke snapped. “I’ll worry about the tower.”
They rushed on, closing on the target every second. Wedge stared upward, and his gaze suddenly froze. “Here they come—oh point three.”
Vader was setting his controls when one of his wingmen broke attack silence. “They’re making their approach too fast—they’ll never get out in time.”
“Stay with them,” Vader commanded.
“They’re going too fast to get a fix,” his other pilot
announced with certainty.
Vader studied several readouts and found that his sensors confirmed the other estimates. “They’ll still have to slow down before they reach that tower.”
Luke contemplated the view in his targeting visor. “Almost home.” Seconds passed and the twin circlets achieved congruence. His finger convulsed on the firing control. “Torpedoes away! Pull up, pull up.”
Two powerful explosions rocked the trench, striking harmlessly far to one side of the minute opening. Three TIE fighters shot out of the rapidly dissipating fireball, closing on the retreating rebels. “Take them,” Vader ordered softly.
Luke detected the pursuit at the same time as his companions. “Wedge, Biggs, split up—it’s the only way we’ll shake them.”
The three ships dropped toward the station, then abruptly raced off in three different directions. All three TIE fighters turned and followed Luke.
Vader fired on the crazily dodging ship, missed, and frowned to himself. “The force is strong with this one. Strange. I’ll take him myself.”
Luke darted between defensive towers and wove a tight path around projecting docking bays, all to no avail. A single remaining TIE fighter stayed close behind. An energy bolt nicked one wing, close by an engine. It started to spark irregularly, threateningly. Luke fought to compensate and retain full control.
Still trying to shake his persistent assailant, he dropped back into a trench again. “I’m hit,” he announced, “but not bad. Artoo, see what you can do with it.”
The tiny ’droid unlocked himself and moved to work on the damaged engine as energy bolts flashed by dangerously close. “Hang on back there,” Luke counseled the Artoo unit as he worked a path around projecting towers, the fighter spinning and twisting tightly through the topography of the station.
Fire remained intense as Luke randomly changed direction and speed. A series of indicators on the control panel slowly changed color; three vital gauges relaxed and returned to where they belonged.
“I think you’ve got it, Artoo,” Luke told him gratefully. “I think—there, that’s it. Just try to lock it down so it can’t work loose again.”
Artoo beeped in reply while Luke studied the whirling panorama behind and above them. “I think we’ve lost those fighters, too. Blue group, this is Blue Five. Are you clear?” He manipulated several controls and the X-wing shot out of the trench, still followed by emplacement fire.
