Biggs fears that Luke may never fully recover from his trauma, and as they head into what may be the biggest turning point for the war against the Empire, the risks they're both taking make them realize what they could lose.
What Biggs had hoped might bring things back to normal wound up doing the opposite. Luke was alive. He had returned. That was the important part and Biggs was beyond grateful, but he couldn't help feeling like he'd lost Luke after all. His best friend was no longer the person he'd known. His experience had traumatized him, that much was clear, and whatever he couldn't tell Biggs must be earth-shattering.
Luke had become distant, quiet, contemplative. In a way, he'd grown up. He'd faced something very dark, survived, and walked away with a matured perspective of the universe, but Biggs worried that Luke had changed too much. And whatever was keeping them apart, hopefully Luke would be able to deal with it sooner rather than later.
This war was eating all of them alive but Biggs was especially determined to keep his promise to himself, that he would watch over Luke no matter what.
Their conversation on the Redemption hit Biggs hard, but he was able to recover quickly. He had been under a lot of stress at the time, and he'd been so desperate for Luke's return that the disappointment was far worse than it would have been otherwise. Luke was going through far more than he knew and all Biggs could do was be supportive. Blaming Luke and being bitter about it wouldn't be fair and it would only increase the tension between them.
He spoke to Luke soon afterwards, telling him that he'd be there for him no matter what. Luke was grateful but he remained distant for some time.
All Biggs could do was wait.
Months later Luke hatched a plan to rescue Han Solo. It required a lot of preparation and it would take some time before it could be carried out, so Luke elected to wait it out on Tatooine. He'd insisted that he needed some time alone to continue his training and build a new lightsaber for himself. Then the others would join him and they would put the first pieces of the plan into action.
Biggs wanted to go with Luke, for protection and to visit with his family and friends in Anchorhead while he was at it, but not only was Luke reluctant to have anyone with him, starfighter command wouldn't allow it either. They needed Rogue Leader where he was and Biggs was kept very busy.
He enjoyed being an X-wing pilot, and especially being the leader of the Alliance's elite squadron, but sometimes he wished he had the freedom to follow that ragtag group around the galaxy.
Maybe someday Biggs could get a promotion and be his own boss, or maybe just retire altogether. He and Luke had always talked about buying a ship together and going wherever they wished. Perhaps several years down the line they could finally make it a reality. Of course, right now everything was a giant, messy 'if'. The war complicated things and destroyed lives every day. So much was up in the air that making such long-term plans seemed pointless.
At the last minute, when Biggs had finally grown content with his task of staying behind, command suddenly approved his request to aid in Han's rescue and to Biggs' surprise, he was off to Tatooine. He, Luke, and the others spent only two or three days in Ben Kenobi's old house before it was time to sneak into Jabba's palace.
Biggs and Lando Calrissian got in posing as palace guards. Next, Threepio and Artoo went in, and Leia and Chewbacca shortly after.
There had been some doubt about Luke's plan but it went off about as Luke had anticipated it would. He'd given Jabba the chance to hand over Han peacefully—many chances, actually—but Luke had been nearly certain that Jabba wouldn't take them. He was a greedy, mean-spirited old hutt and he had no interest in bargaining.
Sure enough, Jabba refused and Luke had been forced to resort to—well it wasn't much of a Plan B if they'd anticipated having to use it in the first place. Plan A got tossed out the window just about the moment they stepped foot into the palace.
Artoo jettisoned Luke's new lightsaber from a hidden compartment and Luke drew it to his hand with the Force, easy as sneezing. He fought skillfully, elegantly, and Biggs caught himself watching him distractedly several times, before reprimanding himself. If he got too distracted he might wind up with a sizzling hole through his gut.
Still, Luke had evidently come a long way in his training since Dagobah. He could deflect blaster bolts with his lightsaber, jump several times higher and farther than was humanly possible, and he had speed and reflexes that Biggs' eyes couldn't even follow. Blaster fire sizzled past Biggs' face and he realized he'd gotten distracted again, firing off a few shots of his own and taking out three guards at once.
With Han thawed from the carbonite and everyone gathered on their 'borrowed' sand skiff, they made their escape and called the rescue a valiant success.
Han, Leia, Lando, Chewbacca, and Threepio boarded the Falcon and left directly for the Alliance's rendezvous point. Luke took Artoo and said he had something to take care of first, and then he would meet up with everyone later. Biggs stopped him near his X-wing.
"Luke!" he shouted through the howling desert winds. A sandstorm had kicked up and they both had their heads covered, shielding their eyes with hoods and goggles. Biggs stepped close to Luke so they didn't have to shout. "Let me go with you."
Luke shook his head. "It won't take long, I promise. This is something I need to do by myself."
Biggs sighed quietly, but he gave in and nodded. "I can never quite seem to catch up with you these days."
Luke smirked. "I'll see you back at the base." He reached out and ran his hand down Biggs' arm, squeezed his wrist, then turned and climbed the ladder to his fighter's cockpit.
Biggs backed away and then stumbled through the sandstorm to his X-wing.
Home One was abuzz with news, briefings, and tireless training preparation. Every squad was on alert and every officer had their hands full. The Empire's new Death Star, bigger and more powerfully armed than the last, was nearing completion and it was time for the Alliance to make their move. If they didn't attack now that thing would be near unstoppable.
The plans secured by the Bothan Spy Network revealed a weakness that would be exploited by the fleet's fighter squadrons, while a ground unit was sent ahead to disable the battle station's shield generator on a nearby moon.
Luke returned from his stopover on Dagobah in the middle of the briefing, just in time to volunteer for Han's command crew. Biggs felt a bit of that wistfulness again, but he pushed it aside in favor of focusing on his own task.
He and the rest of Rogue Squadron were to make a direct assault on the Death Star. This time they would fly inside and take out the main reactor. It would be even more dangerous than the first Death Star trench run that he'd flown four years prior, but he felt confident that if it could be done once, it could be done a second time. He and Wedge would be the only pilots to ever make attacks on both Death Stars and, despite the potential danger and possible insanity of the mission, it thrilled him.
And just like any battle there was the inherent, unspoken knowledge that anyone might not make it back. Many of the faces spotted upon a stroll around the Mon Calamari cruiser might not be there upon their return.
The fighter squadrons were particularly famous for their enthusiasm prior to a fight. Live hard, die young seemed to be their silent motto. Rogues whooped and hollered excitedly as they prepared at their stations, despite the tension brought about by potential loss.
Luke strode through the hangar, feeling somewhat nostalgic for the days when he would be sliding into his flight suit and commanding the squadron on their mission, ordering one or two over-zealous pilots to keep the chatter down on the main comm channel.
He watched the pilots almost enviously as he walked by. Some of them waved and wished him luck, while several noted that he was headed straight for Rogue Leader's station. Technically, for this battle he would be Red Leader. Wedge had suggested changing the name of the squadron back just for this mission, to honor the heroes who were lost at the Battle of Yavin.
Biggs' R2 unit was being lowered into its port as Luke approached, and Biggs himself appeared from under an S-foil, releasing an easy smile. "Hey, hotshot. You leaving too?"
"Yeah, the crew's waiting. I couldn't leave without wishing you good luck, though."
Biggs' smile faded a bit into something more somber. He studied Luke's expression and found his own emotions reflected back at him. This was yet another possible last goodbye and they both knew it. Of course, their natural reaction would be to feign a cocky attitude and tell each other they'd celebrate when they got back, but years of experience had drawn them well past the point of recognizing their own mortality. They had long since lost their youthful sense of invulnerability and the potential outcomes of this mission were staring them in the face.
It was difficult to find anything to say but Biggs finally managed. "Be careful." He reached up and squeezed Luke's arm. There was so much unspoken in that simple statement. Neither of them needed to say more than that.
Luke nodded. "You too. Not too careful, though. Give those eyeballs a good chase." It was pilot humor but Luke's expression remained stoic, and his gaze never wavered.
Biggs grinned, but the muscles in his face fought it. Everything about their good humor was strained. "You know I will."
With nothing left to say and with too much dread hanging over them for more casual banter, Luke stepped smoothly forward and they hugged each other tightly. They stayed like that for a while, neither of them wanting to be one who let go first. Luke's fist gripped the back of Biggs' flight suit tightly and he pressed his cheek against his ear. Biggs kept both arms secured around Luke's middle as if he were the only thing holding him to the ground.
The time they spent like this stretched on, and soon their breathing was deep and hastened, despite that they'd hardly moved. Letting go seemed impossible, but even as he forced himself to slowly release his grip, Luke kept close and his nose brushed along Biggs' jaw. They were sharing breath in the small space between them, hands slowing to pause on shoulders.
Biggs' chin was on Luke's cheek, faint stubble scratching slightly and inciting new, unexpected sensations. They kept moving slowly until their faces were even, but they didn't stop there. Heat raced down Luke's spine when he felt warm breath on his lips, and his knees nearly failed under him, but he held tightly to Biggs.
They were tentative, testing their closeness, but closing the gap felt so natural, as if they'd done it a million times before. Then their lips met softly and the notion of familiarity was gone. This was so new and raw and Luke's lips touched along the shape of Biggs' mouth, learning him. Luke knew him so well, his eyes had roved his features so many times, had him memorized. Feeling him was an entirely different experience and Luke almost forgot to breathe as he pressed into Biggs.
For the first few moments, just the feeling of their lips was enough. Then after any amount of time could have passed, more heat and wetness slid against Luke's lower lip and he let Biggs in, their tongues slicking hotly against each other. Biggs released a low moan that was barely there and it caught Luke in his chest, made him gasp.
This felt far better than Luke had ever been able to imagine, in all the years he spent wondering and pining. The real thing was always going to be better, and now that it was happening he couldn't justify why it took him so long to get here. He felt a rush and his head spun and there was simply nothing to his world but Biggs and his mouth and his hands…
… Which is probably why it took them both so long to realize that applause and raucous hoots and catcalls had broken out among the pilots gathered around them. They awkwardly and hesitantly broke away from each other, grinning in embarrassment, but the little celebration continued.
Someone from the back shouted, "It's about damn time!" Someone else whistled. Tycho Celchu could be heard in a rather victorious tone, "That's a hundred credits to me! Pay up, you shmucks!"
Wedge raised his eyebrows. "Hey, don't forget the bet I put down way back at Yavin."
Hobbie Klivian scoffed at him. "Wedge, I think we're all on the winning side of that bet." Laughter rippled around them.
Just then Wes Janson descended the ladder at Biggs' station, a paint tool clutched in his teeth. He jumped down the last few rungs, removed the paint tool and gestured with it up at the hull of Biggs' ship. "I thought it was missing something."
In large, red letters he'd written out, 'I LOVE LUKE SKYWALKER. FEAR ME.'
Biggs' jaw dropped and Luke pinched the bridge of his nose. The other pilots burst into fits of laughter and some of them pointed or clapped.
Wes put his hands on his hips, surveying his art proudly. "Your enemies'll be wetting themselves in terror."
Biggs chuckled and shook his head at the sight. "Right, or laughing themselves to death. You might have saved me some work, Janson. Thanks."
"Any time, Rogue Leader." Wes beamed and turned to head for his station. Many of the other pilots did the same, apparently having gotten their fill of cheap entertainment for the moment.
Once the initial humiliation wore off, Luke was finally able to appreciate the thought that went into Wes' paint job. Alright, so it was pretty funny, and Biggs seemed pleased with it too. Luke tilted his head as if critiquing a masterpiece in a museum. "I think it looks pretty good. Any truth to it?" He gave Biggs a shy smile, the insinuation heavy in his question.
"Wes might have read my mind a bit," Biggs replied with a little smirk, his eyes darting to the floor but then roving slowly back up to meet Luke's gaze.
They stepped in close once again and moved at each other at the same time, initiating a deep, crushing kiss. Biggs' hands pressed into Luke's back and slid downward, pulling him as close as he could. Luke's fingers raked through Biggs' hair, maybe a little rougher than he should have been. With strands between his fingers his hands closed into fists and he held Biggs tightly against him, teeth against lips almost painful.
Their breaths were quick and their kissing was frantic and rhythmless. Luke knew he should have already been heading for the shuttle but every time he even thought about pulling away, all he could think was just a little more…
His lips tingled with the sensation of Biggs, his taste, his rough mustache on Luke's upper lip. It all felt incredible and he didn't want to stop. Not to mention, they were probably putting on quite the show for the other pilots, but neither of them seemed to care. This was one of those moments when you realized it could be your last with someone. Luke was making it count.
Someone nearby cleared their throat and it only just caught their attention. Luke reluctantly pulled away as he turned his head, and was somewhat startled to find Han standing there, obviously keeping some distance and trying not to look uncomfortable.
Luke and Biggs drew away from each other yet again, breathless and flushed, fixing collars and smoothing hair.
"Sorry to interrupt, kid, but we gotta get going." Han looked truly apologetic, too. He understood what it meant to say goodbye to someone right before a battle as well as anybody else.
Luke nodded. "Right. Sorry. I'll be there in a minute."
That's all Han seemed to need and he nodded quickly to Biggs before leaving them alone, though if one was looking closely they might have caught a tiny smirk on his face.
Now was the part neither one liked. Luke let out a deep, even breath and he slowly drew his gaze up to meet Biggs who seemed just as reluctant. He sensed Luke's sorrow, one that he'd been carrying with him since Bespin, one he still couldn't talk about, and that weighed on him heavily as he faced yet another turning point in his life.
Biggs brought up his hand and gently stroked Luke's cheek, his other hand loosely twining with his fingers at their sides. Luke leaned into him tiredly, the weight of the universe seemingly crushed upon him, and they both knew why Luke had let Biggs in now of all times.
They searched each other's faces for a moment and then Biggs told him softly, "I'll see you after we win this."
Luke couldn't smile but he fixed Biggs with a look of quiet conviction. "I wouldn't dare miss it."
They shared one last, gentle kiss, determined to have at least one that wasn't interrupted, and then Luke stepped slowly away, gradually releasing Biggs' hand.
He remembered the last instant he looked upon Biggs.