(A/N) My first story uploaded here. I would appreciate any reviews and criticism. Thank you.
A "What-If" story. What if Luke couldn't fix the stabilizer of his X-wing and Wedge Antilles, Red 2, was the one who fired his proton torpedoes on the first Death Star? The changes will reverberate throughout a galaxy far far away.
"Biggs, Wedge, let's close it up."
Despite the comm interference, Luke's distinctive voice sounded assured. Wedge gripped the stick of his X-wing a little tighter, sweat already beading down his face. Red Leader, Garven Dreis, had just been killed, the whole squadron had been destroyed, leaving only Biggs, Luke and himself. Dreis, Porkins, all of them, gone. Good men who died fighting for a lost cause. No. Not lost. Not yet. It had been a struggle but Wedge had managed to keep his fear in check. Seeing the Death Star for the first time was an absolute shock to Wedge. The sheer size alone terrified him. They were mere flies compared to that behemoth, an apt metaphor for the Rebel Alliance's fight against the Empire. It was, in a word, hopeless. Their mission, hopeless. Hit a two meter target, while flying at full speed? Impossible, he said before, even for a computer.
But Luke, that farm boy, kept his cool. Wedge had to admit, the kid was a natural flier and a born leader. It was Luke's conviction which kept Wedge from losing hope as well.
"We're going in, we're going in full throttle. That oughta keep those fighters off our back."
"Right with ya boss," Wedge replied. He was all too glad to have this farm boy give the orders at this point. Dreis obviously had faith in the kid, putting him in charge for the next run, the last run. Wedge did not share Luke's unshakeable faith but if the kid said he could make the shot, let the hot hand take the shot. Truth be told, Wedge initially found the youth to be cocky. Wedge thought back to Luke's boundless confidence when they first met. At the briefing before the mission, Luke bragged about being able to bulls-eye womp rats, whatever those were. Wedge had his doubts but maybe Luke really could be that accurate. Maybe... Bigg's voice jarred him out of his thoughts.
"Luke, at that speed will you be able to pull out in time?"
"Will be just like Beggar's Canyon back home," Luke said.
Wedge grimaced. But this wasn't Beggar's Canyon, he didn't say aloud. This was different. This was war. Back home, there weren't turbolasers targeting him. Back home, there weren't enemy pilots trying to kill him. Back home, the fate of the Rebel Alliance, hell, the entire galaxy, wasn't resting on his shoulders. There was a distinct difference between now and back home.
They banked into the trench, green turbolasers streaming up to meet them as they angled into the narrow chasm. The space surrounding them roiled with the deadly streams and Wedge juked his fighter around to avoid being hit. The trench had barely enough room to maneuver his X-wing and he struggled to keep his fighter from hitting the metal walls.
"We'll stay back, far enough to cover ya," Biggs said.
It was a strategy that had not worked well for the Rebel pilots so far, but with the interference, it was the only way to keep the Imperial pilots off of the lead fighter. Quickly, Wedge tapped a button to bring out his targeting computer. He frowned again noticing the scant information available.
"My scope shows the tower, but I can't see the exhaust port," Wedge noticed. "You sure the computer can hit it?"
Luke didn't reply. Perhaps he was just as worried as Wedge now that the situation was upon him, now that they were the last hope for the rebellion.
"Watch yourselves, increase speed to full throttle," Luke ordered.
"What about that tower?" Wedge asked again.
"You worry about those fighters, I'll worry about the tower."
Fair enough, thought Wedge. The TIE's had been decimating Red Squadron throughout the battle, especially the group led by that new TIE, some sort of advanced prototype. It was now Biggs' and his job to hold off the attackers, to give Luke enough time to make the shot. Wedge was afraid, but he feared the consequences of failure more. The Death Star had to be destroyed, no matter the cost. If his life could buy the galaxy the chance at freedom, it was his duty to make that sacrifice. All they had to do was trust Luke Skywalker. If they could just slow down those TIE's for long enough, then Luke would have a chance to-
"My stabilizer…" Even with the comm distortion, Luke's voice sounded pained. "I must have taken too much damage from that last one. My R2 unit can't lock it down."
Wedge keyed his comm link. "Luke, are you ok?"
"I'm losing speed here. I… I…" Luke's voice trailed off as if he were distracted by something. Wedge's concern immediately escalated.
"Luke, you alright? Luke, respond." Wedge felt the cold traces of fear creep up his spine. If Luke couldn't be in the lead, that would mean…
Suddenly Luke's voice rang in his ears.
"Wedge… you take the lead," Luke's voice gave away his frustration but his voice remained firm. "I'll stay back with Biggs and hold them off while you take the shot."
Luke's fighter lagged as Wedge's transferred more energy to his engines, surging forward to take the lead position. Soon Wedge outpaced the two other fighters.
The fears and worries that he had for Luke came rushing down on Wedge. Could he be trusted with this, the Alliance's last chance? Wedge was a talented pilot, but the shot, was… impossible. Before he could reflect more on his skill, all at once, the lasers stopped. That could only mean one thing. Wedge craned his neck around to see the TIE's, looking for any sign of the enemy.
"Fighters coming at point 3," Biggs warned.
Point 3? They must be right on top of them. He silently wished them luck as he focused on the target ahead. A flash of green light reflected in the transparisteel canopy of his X-wing.
"I'm hit," Biggs cried out. "I can't keep up."
"Get clear," Luke shouted. "You can't do any good back here."
Wedge knew immediately that the order would be ignored. Biggs was the most stubborn out of all the pilots in the squadron and a man who wouldn't quit on a fight no matter what.
"No I can… wait… WAIT!"
Another flare of green, followed by the rumble of an explosion and Wedge knew that Biggs was gone.
"Biggs!" Luke cried out.
Wedge knew that Biggs and Luke were old friends. Silently he cursed the Imperial pilot responsible for the deaths of his friends. He had to make sure their deaths would not be in vain. There would be time for revenge later. He hoped.
"Hurry Wedge," Luke warned, his voice strained. "They're faster this time."
There was too much interference but he thought he could see Luke's ship on his sensors, the blip representing Luke's X-wing desperately juking from side to side as he held off the Imperial fighters.
A blast of green light again. Was Luke alright? Wedge was about to key his comm when Luke spoke.
"I've lost Artoo."
Wedge knew that Luke didn't have much time. And the distance was still too far for a clean shot. He almost shook with rage, willing his X-wing to go faster, feeling powerless to do anything as his last squadron mate was being gunned down. Suddenly, a burst of red appeared out of the corners of his eyes. Was Luke firing on the TIE's? But how?
"Yeahoooo!"
Han Solo's shout came through loud and clear on Wedge's comm. Wedge hadn't met the smuggler but he had heard about his deal with Alliance. Cold hard credits for a rescue and he was gone. Where'd he come from? Another explosion and Han's energetic voice came through again.
"You're all clear," Han said. "Now let's blow this thing and go home."
The TIE's were obviously no longer a problem. Wedge had only a few seconds before he was on the exhaust port.
"Wedge," Luke said, his voice oddly serene. "You can do this, May the Force be with you."
The familiar adage sent a burst of warmth through Wedge's heart as he checked the targeting computer's scope. The words were nearly forgotten in today's times, the proverb of an ancient religion all but extinguished from the universe. Wedge remembered the stories his parents used to tell about the Jedi, the inspiration and hope that they stood for, and felt glad to have Luke's trust. Suddenly, impossible didn't mean as much anymore.
Wedge cycled his X-wing's weapons to the proton torpedoes. He was almost on top of it. Then he took a deep breath.
Sometimes, in the heat of battle, it was as if time slowed for Wedge. There were moments when he was in complete synch with the machine that he was piloting, in harmony, as if the X-wing and him were one. One body, one machine, together for a single purpose. And today, that purpose was to destroy this battle station, this atrocity that threatened the lives of everyone in the galaxy that opposed the Empire. He could feel the subtle vibrations of the engine, the cool whine hurtling him forward, feel the changes to his pitch and yaw as he worked the controls for his shot. Suddenly, he could see the tower ahead. He heard the targeting computer's tone change as it got a lock and Wedge lined up X-wing, feeling the frame align onto the thermal exhaust port. Not yet. The distance markers ticked down faster and faster. Not yet. He could feel the pitch alter as he brought the X-wing closer and closer to his mark, the one true shot he had to make. As the tower loomed closer and closer, he was aware that he had less and less time to pull out, but it didn't matter. Not yet. It had to be perfect.
Not yet…
Not yet…
Not yet…
Now.
The X-wing "felt" as if it were a swift, single line and when he gripped the trigger he knew he had delivered the fatal blow. The bright pink of the torpedoes shot away and arched down the exhaust port. Immediately, he pulled up on the stick, praying that he would be able to ascend fast enough to avoid splattering himself on the dull gray walls. In a flash he was above the trench, flying away from the Death Star as Luke and Han tucked into formation behind him. Suddenly, Wedge's mind was beset with worry. When would the torpedoes reach the core? Would it work? What if the plans were wrong? What if they were right? Would they clear the blast radius?
In the next moment, Wedge got his answers.
The explosion rocked his X-wing and he could swear he heard the blast echo in his cockpit. The station was reduced to mere tinsel in the stars, the only remains of a harbinger of death.
"Great shot," Han crowed in triumph, "That was one in a million," .
It was over. Wedge slumped into his cockpit and set the controls to autopilot back to Yavin IV. It was over. The Alliance was saved. But deep down he knew. This was just the first strike. The dawn of a new era that would usher in the downfall of the Empire and the rise of something better. The Rebel Alliance may have existed before this day, but from now on, it was truly alive.