Luke watched
helplessly as Biggs's ship shot away from the station surface and
out into clear space, closely followed by the Imperial. The enemy vessel fired
steadily at him, each
successive bolt
seeming to pass a little closer to Biggs's hull.
"He's on my tight," the voice sounded in Luke's cockpit. "I can't shake him."
Twisting,
spinning, Biggs looped back toward the battle station, but the pilot
trailing him was
persistent and showed no sign of relinquishing pursuit.
"Hang on, Biggs," Luke called, wrenching his ship around so steeply that the
straining gyros whined. "I'm coming in."
So absorbed in his pursuit of Biggs was the Imperial pilot that he didn't see Luke,
who rotated his own ship, flipped out of the concealing gray below and dropped in
behind him.
Electronic crosshairs lined up according to the computer-readout instructions,
and Luke fired
repeatedly. There was a small
explosion in space-tiny compared
with the enormous energies being put out by the emplacements on the surface of the
battle station. But the
explosion was of particular
significance to three people: Luke,
Biggs, and, most particularly, to the pilot of the Tie
fighter, who was vaporized with
his ship.
"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
fighterblew in half, sending leaf-like 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 cockpit 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 cockpit became a mass 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 ship
expand in 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
spacious screen chose that moment to
flicker and
die, much as John D. had. Worried technicians began rushing 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 to 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."
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