Part 17 (1/2)
”Got him!” Luke murmured.
”I've got one! I've got one!” came a less restrained cry of triumph over the open intercom. Luke identified the voice as belonging to a young pilot known as John D. Yes, that was Blue Six chasing another Imperial fighter across the metal landscape. Bolts jumped from the X-wing in steady succession until the TIE fighter blew in half, sending leaflike glittering metal fragments flying in all directions.
”Good shooting, Blue Six,” the squadron leader commented. Then he added quickly, ”Watch out, you've got one on your tail.”
Within the fighter's c.o.c.kpit the gleeful smile on the young man's face vanished instantly as he looked around, unable to spot his pursuer. Something flared brightly nearby, so close that his starboard port burst. Then something hit even closer and the interior of the now open c.o.c.kpit became a ma.s.s of flames.
”I'm hit, I'm hit!”
That was all he had time to scream before oblivion took him from behind. Far above and to one side Blue Leader saw John D.'s s.h.i.+p expand in a fiery ball. His lips may have whitened slightly. Otherwise he might as well never have seen the X-wing explode, for all the reaction he displayed. He had more important things to do.
On the fourth moon of Yavin a s.p.a.cious screen chose that moment to flicker and die, much as John D. had. Worried technicians began rus.h.i.+ng in all directions. One turned a drawn face to Leia, the expectant Commanders, and one tall, bronzed robot.
”The high-band receiver has failed. It will take some time to fix...”
”Do the best you can,” Leia snapped. ”Switch to audio only.”
Someone overheard, and in seconds the room was filled with the sounds of distant battle, interspersed with the voices of those involved.
”Tighten it up, Blue Two, tighten it up,” Blue Leader was saying. ”Watch those towers.”
”Heavy fire, Boss,” came the voice of Wedge Antilles, ”twenty-three degrees.”
”I see it. Pull in, pull in. We're picking up some interference.”
”I can't believe it,” Biggs was stammering. ”I've never seen such firepower!”
”Pull in, Blue Five. Pull in.” A pause, then, ”Luke, do you read me? Luke?”
”I'm all right, Chief,” came Luke's reply. ”I've got a target. I'm going to check it out.”
”There's too much action down there, Luke,” Biggs told him. ”Get out. Do you read me, Luke? Pull out.”
”Break off, Luke,” ordered the deeper tones of Blue Leader. ”We've hit too much interference here. Luke, I repeat, break off! I can't see him. Blue Two, can you see Blue Five?”
”Negative,” Wedge replied quickly. ”There's a fire zone here you wouldn't believe. My scanner's jammed. Blue Five, where are you? Luke, are you all right?”
”He's gone,” Biggs started to report solemnly. Then his voice rose. ”No, wait... there he is! Looks like a little fin damage, but the kid's fine.”
Relief swept the war room, and it was most noticeable in the face of the slightest, most beautiful Senator present.
On the battle station, troopers worn half to death or deafened by the concussion of the big guns were replaced by fresh crews. None of them had time to wonder how the battle was going, and at the moment none of them much cared, a malady shared by common soldiers since the dawn of history.
Luke skimmed daringly low over the station's surface, his attention riveted on a distant metal projection.
”Stick close, Blue Five,” the squadron commander directed him. ”Where are you going?”
”I've picked up what looks like a lateral stabilizer,” Luke replied. ”I'm going to try for it.”
”Watch yourself, Blue Five. Heavy fire in your area.”
Luke ignored the warning as he headed the fighter straight toward the oddly shaped protuberance. His determination was rewarded when, after saturating it with fire, he saw it erupt in a spectacular ball of superhot gas.
”Got it!” he exclaimed. ”Continuing south for another one.”
Within the rebel temple-fortress, Leia listened intently. She seemed simultaneously angry and frightened. Finally she turned to Threepio and muttered, ”Why is Luke taking so many chances?” The tall droid didn't reply.
”Watch your back, Luke,” Biggs's voice sounded over the speakers, ”watch your back! Fighters above you, coming in.”
Leia strained to see what she could only hear. She wasn't alone. ”Help him, Artoo,” Threepio was whispering to himself, ”and keep holding on.”
Luke continued his dive even as he looked back and spotted the object of Biggs's concern close on his tail. Reluctantly he pulled up and away from the station surface, abandoning his target. His tormentor was good, however, and continued closing on him.
”I can't shake him,” he reported.
Something cut across the sky toward both s.h.i.+ps. ”I'm on him, Luke,” shouted Wedge Antilles. ”Hold on.”
Luke didn't have to for very long. Wedge's gunnery was precise, and the TIE fighter vanished brightly shortly thereafter.
”Thanks, Wedge,” Luke murmured, breathing a little more easily.
”Good shooting, Wedge.” That was Biggs again. ”Blue Four, I'm going in. Cover me, Porkins.”
”I'm right with you, Blue Three,” came the other pilot's a.s.surance.
Biggs leveled them off, then let go with full weaponry. No one ever decided exactly what it was he hit, but the small tower that blew up under his energy bolts was obviously more important than it looked.
A series of sequential explosions hopscotched across a large section of the battle station's surface, leaping from one terminal to the next. Biggs had already shot past the area of disturbance, but his companion, following slightly behind, received a full dose of whatever energy was running wild down there.
”I've got a problem,” Porkins announced. ”My converter's running wild.” That was an understatement. Every instrument on his control panels had abruptly gone berserk.
”Eject-eject, Blue Four,” advised Biggs. ”Blue Four, do you read?”
”I'm okay,” Porkins replied. ”I can hold her. Give me a little room to run, Biggs.”
”You're too low,” his companion yelled. ”Pull up, pull up!”
With his instrumentation not providing proper information, and at the alt.i.tude he was traveling, Porkins's s.h.i.+p was simple for one of the big, clumsy gun emplacements to track. It did as its designers had intended it should. Porkins's demise was as glorious as it was abrupt.
It was comparatively quiet near the pole of the battle station. So intense and vicious had been Blue and Green squadron's a.s.sault on the equator that Imperial resistance had concentrated there. Red Leader surveyed the false peace with mournful satisfaction, knowing it wouldn't last for long.
”Blue Leader, this is Red Leader,” he announced into his mike. ”We're starting our attack run. The exhaust port is located and marked. No flak, no enemy fighters up here-yet. Looks like we'll get at least one smooth run at it.”
”I copy, Red Leader,” the voice of his counterpart responded. ”We'll try to keep them busy down here.”
Three Y-wing fighters dropped out of the stars, diving toward the battle-station surface. At the last possible minute they swerved to dip into a deep artificial canyon, one of many streaking the northern pole of the Death Star. Metal ramparts raced past on three sides of them.
Red Leader hunted around, noticed the temporary absence of Imperial fighters. He adjusted a control and addressed his squadron.
”This is it, boys. Remember, when you think you're close, go in closer before you drop that rock. Switch all power to front deflector screens-never mind what they throw at you from the side. We can't worry about that now.”