by John Peel
“We’re going in,” I told Wedge and Biggs.
It didn’t even occur to me until later that they were both senior to me, and they were the ones who should have been making that decision, not me. But they both accepted it as if they’d wanted me to take over.
Then we went in, Biggs and Wedge covering me. I had to really focus on my flying now. The trench was barely wider than my wing-tips, and any fluttering about could take us into one of the walls or towers.
And the stabilizer broke loose again.
Artoo was on it immediately, but for a second I was sure we were lost. I fought the controls to keep the ship steady, and somehow I succeeded. The shaking stopped, and all I had to worry about were the guns and the TIE fighters.
Biggs and Wedge got one of them, but the leader was on my tail now, maneuvering to get a clear shot at me. I had to concentrate on flying; I couldn’t try to fire back. Then Wedge took a hit and had to pull out. The leader was coming in fast. Biggs tried to stop him, but it was no use.
There was another explosion.
It was Biggs.
As I watched his fighter burst into flames I went into complete shock. I realized that I no longer had any connection to Tatooine. First I lost Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru, then Ben, and now Biggs. My oldest and closest friend was gone.
Biggs and I had flown together on the razor’s edge so many times, I guess I never realized that someone might actually get hurt—or even killed. How many times did we push our luck to the absolute limit? I desperately tried to focus on my flying and that fighter on my tail, but I couldn’t keep the images out of my head.
Right before he left for the Academy, Biggs decided to build a T-16. From scratch. He said a true pilot should know every last detail about his ship and how it works. What better way to learn than to build the ship yourself? He wanted me to help, but I was wary of the whole idea. No way would he be able to build his own ship. I gave him a hand occasionally, but more often than not I just watched him in action. He was so consumed by his work that he sometimes didn’t even know I was there.
Biggs was a good mechanic, handy with a torch and pliers. Good mechanics can repair and maintain ships. What Biggs didn’t realize is that it takes a great mechanic to build a ship. He admitted that his finished product was a little rough around the edges, but insisted that he could fly it with anyone in any T-16. I couldn’t help myself when he said this. I laughed out loud. Right in his face. Now, I know I didn’t think much of the Millennium Falcon when I first saw her, but she turned out to be a fine ship. That’s because Han deliberately made it look like a piece of junk. Biggs’ ship, on the other hand, looked like a piece of junk because that’s exactly what it was. This was no disguise, this ship was a true scrap heap.
Well, Biggs was less than pleased with my laughter. That was about as angry as I’d ever seen him. If we weren’t such good friends, who knows what he would have done to me. He repeated his boast, and challenged me to fly with him. I wasn’t exactly nervous that he would leave me in the dust in that thing, so I accepted his challenge. Thought I’d have a little fun with him.
What happened next was definitely not what I had in mind.
I thought we would go for a casual flight around the canyon. Since Biggs hadn’t flown his creation yet, I thought that he’d want to test it out first. Kind of get a feel for the controls, see how sensitive its responses were.
But when Biggs blasted out of the hangar without a word, I realized how wrong I was. He was still angry and had something to prove.
“All right, Darklighter, you’re on,” I said out loud, even though he couldn’t hear me.
The thrill of flight filled me as I chased him down.
It would have taken me thirty seconds to catch that T-16 if anyone other than Biggs was flying it. I could see it swaying and shaking like it was going to break up. Any other pilot would have been forced to slow down to get control. But not Biggs. He was so good, he was actually speeding up.
After about five minutes of chase, I finally caught him. Just as I pulled even with him and was about to commend him on his performance, I saw something small and metallic drop out of the bottom of the T-16. Two seconds later, something big fell out. Something very big. Before I could figure out that his bottom had given and the engine was gone, Biggs’ ship was down.
It must have rolled end-over-end at least five times. When it finally stopped, the cloud of dust was so huge that I couldn’t see anything. All I could do was yell his name over and over. But every time I cried “Biggs!” I was met with a deafening silence.
When the dust finally settled, I could see that he wasn’t in the pilot’s seat. Had he fallen out after the first tumble? Was he buried under the wreckage?
That’s when I was tackled from behind.
I thought a krayt dragon had jumped me. But krayt dragons don’t laugh. And they don’t know my name is Luke. I turned and there was Biggs! And he was laughing! He was laughing so hard, he had tears in his eyes. But he was fine! He was looking at his wrecked T-16 and having a great time. I was amazed. How he could go through a crash like that, come out unharmed, and find the whole thing so funny I’ll never know.
But then my mind was back in the present. I was in my X-wing and Biggs wouldn’t be laughing after this crash. I reminded myself that I would have to mourn my friend later. Right now, I was in real trouble. The exhaust duct was coming up fast, but the TIE leader was coming up even faster.
I wasn’t going to make it.
There were no other fighters out there, so I knew I was doomed. I could see the ship moving in behind me, and knew it was only a matter of seconds before it fastened onto me and opened fire. One shot raked my ship, and the link with Artoo died. I didn’t know how badly he was injured, but he was out of the battle for now. The stabilizer could go again at any second, and we were almost at the target.
If I could hit it. I mean, I knew I was a good shot, but so were the others, and they’d failed. Maybe this is an impossible shot, I thought. Maybe this is different from shooting womp rats back home. I could feel my mind start reeling with panic, when suddenly I heard Ben’s voice.
“Let go, Luke,” I could hear him say. “Trust me. Reach out with your feelings.”
And I knew immediately what he meant. The computer couldn’t make the shot. It was too difficult for the machine. There was one way and only one way to do this.
I had to trust the Force.
I had to reach out with the Force and feel exactly the right time to fire the torpedo. Me, the novice Jedi, who’s had about ten lessons. Who wasn’t even sure he could feel the Force.
Ben wanted me to forget everything, disconnect the computer, and rely on my gut instincts. If I had any.
I knew it was the right thing to do.
I did as he told me and switched off my targeting computer. That caused some panic back at the base. They were monitoring me, of course, and asked me what was wrong. The feeling was that if the computer couldn’t hit the target, there was no way I could.
And they were right. There was no way I could on my own.
But it wasn’t just me. It was me, plus Ben, plus the Force.
Darth Vader was still after me, and closing fast. Without Artoo, I had so much to look out for, I could barely even track the TIE fighter approaching me. And his shots were getting closer.
I wouldn’t make it to the target.
Then, suddenly, the TIE fighter was hit and spinning off helplessly into space. Over the communications I heard someone yell, “Whoopee!” and the Millennium Falcon flashed above me.
Han had come back! He’d changed his mind!
Maybe what we were fighting for had gotten to him. Maybe he liked me too much to let me die. Maybe he just wanted to annoy the princess by forcing her to thank him. At that moment I didn’t care what his reasons were. He was back!
And laying down fire for me. He and Chewie covered me for the last part of the run.
Then I could see the target ahead of me. It
looked so tiny, and I was coming up on it so fast. Was I just deluding myself? Was it an impossible shot after all? Was I nothing but a farm boy who shouldn’t have been given an X-wing, let alone the responsibility of saving the Rebels?
I fought down my doubts. Ben believed in me; so did Leia, and so, even, did Han. Why else would he come back? They all believed in me, and I knew that I should believe in me, too.
I focused inward as I drew closer to the port, feeling for that gentle touch of the Force inside me. Reaching out to connect, and to know exactly the right second to fire.
And I felt it. The absolute, calm assurance that now was the time. My thumb pressed the button without any conscious thought at all.
Then I peeled away, up and out. The guns were still firing at us, but I didn’t care. My torpedoes were on their way, and I knew it was working. The Force was with me.
Han and I headed directly back toward the moon at full acceleration. Neither of us wanted to be in the vicinity when the Death Star went up. I glanced around, but there was no sign at all of Vader’s TIE fighter. Had he escaped somehow? Or was he dead? I didn’t think he was. I was certain I’d feel a disturbance in the Force if such great evil were to perish. But I didn’t have time to look for him.
Space behind us suddenly exploded with color.
The Death Star had powered up its planet-breaker just as my torpedoes hit their target.
The result was an explosion so huge, it blotted out everything. The shock wave sent my ship and the Falcon tumbling, but we managed to pull out of it.
The Death Star was gone, and Yavin was safe. The Rebel base was safe. Leia was safe.
I felt absolutely drained, completely wrung out.
“Come on, kid,” Han called. And the Falcon nosed down to the moon below. I followed him in.
I heard Ben’s voice again, this time with a promise. He sounded proud of me. “The Force will be with you, always.”
I knew he was right. I did have a strong connection to the Force. Maybe I would become a true Jedi one day.
The first person to greet me when I landed was Leia. She threw her arms around me and kissed me, even though there were hundreds of people watching. I could feel myself blushing like crazy. Then Han and Chewie came over, grinning. Han claimed he only came back because he didn’t want me to get all the credit, but I knew better. He came back because he’d discovered something better than money.
I made sure the flight crew took Artoo out carefully. Threepio hovered beside them nervously, but the mechanics assured us they could patch up Artoo without a problem. I really hope so. We’ve been through a lot together, and I’ve grown very fond of the little droid.
Leia says there’s going to be a big celebration later, and advised me to shower and rest. I’ve just realized how hungry I am. A feast certainly sounds good. We’ve got a lot to celebrate. And to remember.
FOURTEENTH ENTRY
It wasn’t a feast. Well, no, it was a feast. But that was afterward.
First there was the ceremony.
It turned out that Leia had managed to convince everyone that we were heroes—Han, Chewie, and myself, that is. As if all she did was stand around and watch us! But, apparently, everyone agreed that we were heroes, and we deserved medals. Han couldn’t take his medal seriously, joking that it was cheaper than paying him a fee. I realized what an honor it was, though.
Then came the feast and speeches. It was amazing to see everyone treating the three of us with such respect. I think it may have gone to Han’s head. He just lapped it up. I think he’s enjoying not being a lone warrior for once.
He tried to blame his return on Chewie, but he doesn’t fool me. That cold, cynical, cash-hungry exterior is just for show. Underneath it all, he’s a decent human being. And, I think, a little embarrassed about it.
So now I’ve got a medal. Oh, and a repaired droid. Artoo was fixed up just fine, like the technicians promised. I’m glad, because the galaxy would seem a lot smaller if he weren’t in it.
As with so many others that are gone.
I asked Leia about holding a memorial service for those who didn’t make it. She told me I was the thirty-seventh person to request one. I guess I may be the most accurate shot among the Rebels, but I’m obviously not the fastest.
Everyone is relieved that the Rebel Alliance is still alive, and that the Death Star was destroyed. We can’t stay here, of course. Grand Moff Tarkin must have reported where he was going, so the Empire’s bound to have some forces out looking for us soon. The packing’s begun, and our next base is being decided on right now by Leia and Admiral Dodonna and a few others. I was asked to sit in, too, but I declined. I really don’t feel comfortable in there with all those officers. They’ve all been in the Rebellion so much longer than I have.
The past few days here have been some of the best and worst days of my life.
Worst, because I can’t help thinking about all of those who didn’t make it. Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru…. Just a few days ago, I was complaining about having to work for them for another year. If I could bring them back, I’d go and serve that year without complaint. I really miss them.
Then there’s Biggs. He and I grew up together. We learned to fly T-16s at the same time, and we learned to fire blasters in the same canyon. He was like a brother to me, and I know he felt the same way about me. He was always there for me, right until he left for the Academy. Like he was there for me earlier today, when we faced the Death Star together. Biggs and Luke, together like always.
Only no more.
Yet, somehow, I’m not grieving as much as I’d expected. Because I can still feel him, somehow, through the Force. He’s gone, but he’s still a part of my life. In my memories, in my emotions, in the Force. If there’s one thing that Ben has taught me, it’s that death is not an ending. It’s a change, the chance to move on to a new level. So Biggs has beaten me to it again. He’s moved on to start something new, and left me behind to catch up later.
I’m truly glad for everything we’ve shared—from shooting womp rats to fighting together for the Alliance. We’ve had some very special times that will always be a part of me.
Biggs is one of the heroes of Yavin. And Leia promised me that once this fight is over with the Empire, there will be a monument to the fallen, and that Biggs’ name will be on it in a prominent place. He’d have liked that. He always wanted to be somebody, to make a difference, to me and to everyone else. He bought me time to finish off the Death Star. Rest peacefully, my friend.
And, above all, there’s Ben Kenobi. I only really knew him for a couple of days. But no man I’ve ever met has impressed me more. His quiet dignity, his wisdom, his compassion. The way he saw something special in me, and encouraged me to live to my full potential. He was so alive, so real.
And… I’m not sure that he’s dead. Oh, he’s not alive as the rest of us are. But he’s still around somehow. Of that I’m certain. He’s spoken to me several times, and I know the voice is Ben’s, not just wishful thinking or delusions. He only speaks when I absolutely need to hear something, and it’s always to encourage me. If he was looking out for me while I was alive, he’s not letting death deny him his job.
Although I’ve lost some very important people, I’ve gained some new friends, and a new cause. There’s Artoo and Threepio. They might be droids, but they’re friends, too. Oh, they can be real pains at times. Especially that Threepio; he’s a real earful. And they’re both a bit too independent-minded for their own good sometimes. But they’re irreplaceable.
And then there’s Han and Chewie. A couple of disreputable smugglers, with an eye for fast profit. I know my uncle would have disapproved of them at first sight. But as stubborn as Uncle Owen was, he’d have realized that Han and Chewie are not your typical smugglers. And Aunt Beru would have definitely fallen for Han’s free-spirited charm.
Han tells me I’m a fool to believe he’s capable of anything good. But I know exactly what he’s capable of. I know he can be trusted. Yea
h, Chewie, too.
Finally, there’s Leia—princess and Rebel. I can’t help being impressed with her. Oh, not because she’s a princess, oddly enough. But because of her courage, her conviction, and her absolute determination. When the Rebellion beats the Empire, she’ll be one of the people to thank most. And she’ll probably say she’s done nothing. Because she’s only doing what she thinks is right, and she’s doing it with all of her heart.
How can you not admire a woman like that?
What a thrill. I will never in my life forget that fight. That I was finally able to actively do something. And summon a powerful ally—the Force. It was the single most intense moment of my life. But along with this huge high, I’m feeling the lows and emptiness of loss. Ben and now Biggs… I never even got to catch up on things with Biggs. Which makes me sad.
But I guess that’s the price one pays for having big dreams and going after them. For stretching to the limits of one’s potential. If Biggs and I had stayed on the farm, we’d never need to catch up. We’d have all the time in the world. But maybe we’d have nothing meaningful to say.
There’s lots for us to do now. The Empire’s been given a bloody nose, but this won’t stop it. The destruction of the Death Star is going to sound the signal for all the Rebels throughout the galaxy. They’re going to be fired up by our victory and encouraged by our resistance. The Empire’s going to discover lots of pockets of trouble in the days to come. But they’re going to want to show everyone that the Rebellion can’t possibly succeed. They’re going to want to stamp us out, once and for all.
The immediate future is clear—the Empire is going to strike back at the Rebellion. So, we’ll have to run and fight and run again. And we’ll gather strength. Tyranny can’t win forever. One day, the Emperor is going to be held responsible for his crimes. Darth Vader, too.
It’s going to be pretty hectic for a while. But I’m certain we’ll win—in the end. I don’t know how long this will take. Or how many lives will be turned upside down, like mine was. But I know Ben was right. The Force is with us.
