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 fighter," 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 persistentassailant, 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 fighterspinning 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.

"I'm up here waiting, Boss," Wedge announced from his position high above the

station. "I can't see you."

"I'm on my way. Blue Three, are you clear? Biggs?"

"I've had some trouble," his friend explained, "but I think I lost him."

Something showed again, damnably, on Biggs's screen. A glance behind

showed the Tie fighter that had been chasing him for the past several minutes

dropping in once more behind him. He swung down toward the station again.

"Nope, not yet," Biggs told the others. "Hold on, Luke. I'll be right there."

A thin, mechanical voice sounded over the speakers. "Hold on, Artoo, hang

on!" Back at the temple headquarters, Threepio turned away from the curious

human faces which had turned to stare at him.

As Luke soared high above the station another X-wing swung in close to him.

He recognized Wedge's ship and began hunting around anxiously for his friend.

"We're goin' in, Biggs-join up. Biggs, are you all right? Biggs!" There

was no sign of the other fighter. "Wedge, do you see him anywhere?"

Within the transparentcanopy of the fighter bobbing close by, a helmeted head

shook slowly. "Nothing," Wedge told him over the communicator. "Wait a little

longer. He'll show."

Luke looked around, worried, studied several instruments, then came to a

decision. "We can't wait; we've got to go now. I don't think he made it."

"Hey, you guys," a cheerful voice demanded to another ship racing past and

slowing slightly ahead of him. "Don't ever give up on old Biggs," the intercom

directed as the figure in the X-wing ahead looked back at them.

Within the central control room of the battle station, a harried officer rushed up

to a figure studying the great battle screen and waved a handful of printout at him.

"Sir, we've completed an analysis of their attack plan. There is a danger.

Should we break off the engagement or make plans to evacuate? Your ship is

standing by."

Governor Tarkin turned an incredulous gaze on the officer, who shrank back.

"Evacuate!" he roared. "At our moment of triumph? We are about to destroy the

last remnants of the Alliance, and you call for evacuation? You overestimate their

chances badly...Now, get out!"

Overwhelmed by the Governor's fury, the subdued officer turned and retreated

from the room.
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