Star Wars Journal - The Fight for Justice by Luke Skywalker (9 page)

We dove for the trench together, trying to avoid the fire from the guns below. If we got low enough, they couldn’t fire down. Of course, we had to virtually scrape paint off the Death Star to get that low, but Biggs and I had done worse back home on Tatooine. We’d taken some crazy risks as kids, and the experience was starting to pay off. It
was
just like blasting womp rats, even if the rats were fighting back.

I took another minor hit, and Artoo managed to reroute the systems. A stabilizer had broken loose, but the droid managed to get it operational again. Then the attack was on.

Flying low and firing like crazy, Biggs, Wedge, and I covered Red Leader. But we weren’t good enough to stop everything. One of our ships went down, and then the second. Red leader fired his torpedoes, but once again he missed.

Maybe Han was right. Maybe this
was
impossible.

Red Leader went down in flames, and there were just the three of us left. And three enemy TIE fighters, including one that was being flown as if a demon piloted it. I was almost certain one was, and that his name was Darth Vader.

I could feel something odd, like a disturbance in the Force. It was like the disturbance I’d felt on the Death Star earlier, when Vader had struck down Ben. It was a feeling of great evil.

I hadn’t felt Ben die, but I had sensed this great, dark shadow in the Force. So I was pretty sure the pilot we were facing was Vader.

And I wanted to kill him.

Just not badly enough to jeopardize our mission. Right now, it was more important to stop the Death Star. I took a deep breath and made my decision.

“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.

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.