Chapter 5
Luke stifled the urge to yawn loudly into his comm. It would get him in trouble with Ghede, but it would also drive home the point that having Life Squadron go over basic maneuvers a dozen times a day was completely pointless. If anything, it only served to bore them out of their skulls.
"Bombardment formation," Ghede ordered. "Sweep the area."
Obediently thirteen X-wings spread out in a wide, sweeping formation, one nicely suited to strafing large targets like bases or outposts. Except for the fact that there was only dense jungle and scattered ruins to strafe, of course. Luke had never imagined that flying could become boring, but apparently Ghede had a vampirish ability to suck the fun out of everything.
"Tight V, Life Eight center."
The fighters drew together, Gavin in the lead, the rest of the squadron in two equal lines behind. This formation was best for small targets that required intense fire. The lead fighter would fire at the target until he had to pull up, then the ones behind would continue firing, and so forth. This ensured an almost uninterrupted stream of fire pouring onto the target. If only they had an actual target.
"How much longer are we going to keep this up?" Ar'ya asked in her most diplomatic tone.
"We'll break at 1400. Now form up in the Flying Dragon."
It was one of the trickier formations -- a sort of flattened M shape, with the rear ships higher than the front ships. After the squadron made a fifth failed attempt at it, Ghede informed them there would be no break until they got it right.
"Wish something exciting would happen," muttered Zev.
"Can the chatter, Life Six!"
***
"And this is the main hangar," Han told Vader, sweeping his arm in an encompassing gesture. "That's the Falcon. Beautiful, isn't she?"
Vader snorted a laugh. "You were right about the 'hunk of junk' part."
"Ha, ha," Han replied sarcastically. "She may not look like much, but she's got it where it counts."
"Looks like you've done extensive modifying."
"Yeah, well, I like to keep her semi-up-to-date."
"How is she in the air?"
"You want to find out? Chewie, power her up. We'll see if the sub-light overhaul did any good."
***
"Sir, I'm picking up something big on my scope," Squib said worriedly. Being the youngest member of the squadron at sixteen, he had a chronic paranoid streak that countered his exceptional shooting ability.
Luke craned his neck to look back at the base. Rising up from the Massassi temple was the familiar disk-shaped freighter he'd come to know well.
"Life Leader to freighter, identify yourself," barked Ghede.
"Han Solo, Millennium Falcon. I'm taking her on a flight to test some modifications I did."
"Carry on, Solo, just stay away from the squadron."
"Will try, sir."
"Life, Flying Dragon again, and straighten up that left wing!"
Luke sighed and took his place at the right rear end of the formation. If something didn't happen to break the monotony of Ghede's drills, he'd have to stir up some excitement of his own.
***
"What do you think?" Han asked as he and Chewie took the Falcon on a low glide over the treetops.
Vader nodded in satisfaction. It was a pleasure to be up in the air. Somehow it felt right and natural to be here, to be airborne. But something seemed to be missing. He wasn't sure what, though.
"For a ship held together with dumb luck and crating tape, she flies well," he said aloud.
"You like her?"
"Very much." But in his mind he was already calculating what tools, parts, and labor would be needed to get the Falcon in proper flying shape. The list was staggeringly long. Well, perhaps he should leave out the cosmetic repairs. If Han had been flying her this long in this condition, he probably didn't care whether she looked like a luxury space yacht or a beater as long as she ran...
"You want to fly her?"
Vader stared at Han. "What?"
"I asked if you wanted to fly her."
A shiver of excitement gripped his stomach. "Are you serious?"
"I normally don't let just anyone in the pilot's chair," Han explained as he stood. "But if you're going to be doing work on her, it's a good idea for you to know how she handles."
Vader sat down in Han's place, a delicious thrill of anticipation flooding through him. Somehow this felt right, as if he was returning to his proper place after many years. Instinctively he took the controls, fed a little fuel to the repulsors, and shifted in his seat to find a comfortable position, which he found almost instantly.
"Now the pitch is a little touchy..." Han cautioned.
"How fast can she go?" Vader asked.
"Point five past light speed. Sub-light, I'd say..."
He didn't wait for Han to finish. Instead, he punched the throttle.
***
"Tighten formation!"
"Sir, when are we ever going to use the Flying Dragon?" asked Wedge. "It's a parade formation. The Alliance doesn't do parades."
"I require my pilots to know all basic formations," Ghede replied.
"Uh, sir?" Squib said nervously.
"What is it this time, Life Ten?" Ghede demanded in exasperation.
"The Falcon's coming up behind us really fast."
"Han knows to keep a safe distance from us..." Luke started to assure him.
An alarm screeched in every pilot's cockpit. The Falcon was headed for them -- on a collision course!
"Son of a jumpin'..." began Janson.
"Break formation!" Luke screamed.
Life Squadron scattered in all directions as the freighter roared through where they had just been. Had Luke been any slower in his order, one or more pilots would have been plastered against the Falcon's bow. A few chaotic moments passed as Ghede and Luke tried to restore order.
"Regroup," Ghede ordered. "He may come around for another pass."
"Han, what was that all about?" asked Luke. Was it another of the Corellian's jokes? If so, it wasn't particularly funny.
In answer the ship made an impossibly tight turn and charged them again.
***
"What the hell are you doing?!" screamed Han, arms flailing for balance as the Falcon tilted almost perpendicular to the ground to make the turn.
Vader only laughed ecstatically, pouring more power to the engines. This was ecstasy! How he'd missed this! It was as if he were part of the machinery of the Falcon, one with it. He felt invincible, omnipotent, a sky-god on a durasteel steed commanding the skies. He knew exactly how much stress the thrusters could take, how much juice to give the engines, how quickly he was approaching an obstacle...
And he was rapidly approaching such an obstacle! He wrenched at the controls.
"Watch out for --" Han began half-hysterically.
***
"Hobbie, look out!" Luke shouted.
"Yipe!" squealed Hobbie, veering up. The Falcon missed him by half a meter.
"Solo, this is no time for games!" Ghede shouted.
"Where's your sense of fun, Commander?" answered a deep, electronic voice that was definitely not Han.
Luke nearly choked with fear. Had the Alliance's worst fear indeed come true? Had Vader regained his memory and hijacked the Falcon in order to escape? And was he trying to eliminate Life Squadron on his way out?
"After that ship, Life!" Ghede barked. "Disable or destroy it, whatever it takes! But it can't leave the planet!"
They'd gotten the excitement they were looking for.
***
"You're going to get us all killed!" Han shouted.
Chewie barked.
"Whaddaya mean he reminds you of me when I was younger?" Han demanded. "I never flew like this maniac!"
Chewie said something that sounded remarkably like "Whose idea was it to let the maniac fly?"
What Han replied with Vader didn't know, for another memory inserted itself into his mind's eye.
..."You know I don't like it when you do that!"
"Sorry, Master," he replied without meaning it. His attention was solely on maneuvering the skycar through Corusant's traffic-clogged airways in pursuit of the would-be assassin. He was shooting through the air at top speed -- against the flow of traffic, to boot -- but the threat of crashing didn't concern him in the least.
"I forgot you don't like flying," he added.
"I don't mind flying, but what you're doing is suicide!" the passenger screamed...
"Whoa!" Han exclaimed, partly in fear but mostly in awe, as Vader executed a flawless barrel roll.
***
Luke gritted his teeth as he pursued the Falcon on a crazy, twist-filled course. He had no idea that ship was so maneuverable! But with Vader at the controls, what was he to expect?
"Wedge, Gavin, cover me," he ordered. "I'm going after him."
"Sure thing, Luke," Wedge replied.
"Go get 'em, Skywalker," urged Gavin.
The Falcon looped around a particularly tall tree, then soared straight up in the sky. Luke climbed after him, never minding the lurch of his stomach at the sudden change in direction. Now he had no qualms about killing Vader. He was no longer the dying shipwreck victim he had hauled out of the jungle, but a dangerous enemy in aerial combat. Behind the controls of starcraft, they were even adversaries.
His targeting computer locked onto the freighter. He applied pressure to the trigger...
/Luke!/
/Get out of my mind, Obi-wan!/
/Your friend Han is aboard that ship. Would you stoop so low as to kill him to see Vader dead?/
Han! Luke had completely forgotten that the smuggler was aboard the Falcon! He couldn't shoot now. Han was his friend, and he couldn't kill his friend... even if it meant letting Vader live.
"Shoot to disable," Luke ordered the squadron. "There are others on that ship besides Vader."
"Not to mention that Solo'll kill you if you dent his precious heap," Janson joked.
"That too," Luke acknowledged.
"He's going to try to thread the Needle!" Mela shouted in disbelief.
"Oh no," groaned Dekham. "That'll be a mess."
***
"Thanks for letting me fly, Han," said Vader, banking sharply.
"No problem," Han replied. His fear had gone now that he saw that Vader was actually an exceptional pilot. Confident that the former Sith wouldn't be involved in an accident, he had started suggesting maneuvers and acrobatics for him to try.
"Betcha fifty creds you can't thread the Needle," Han dared.
"What's the Needle?" asked Vader.
"That." Han pointed to a set of ruins ahead. The remains of two stone towers jutted skyward, a sliver of daylight shining between them.
"The Needle," Vader repeated, grinning eagerly. "Get your wallet out, Han." He gunned the engine.
***
Mothma and Fey'la were talking in her office when she happened to look out the window. The towers of the nearby Blackstone temple were visible from her office, and she had often watched pilots attempt to squeeze their ships between them during their off hours. Today, though, Ghede had planned to drill the squadron until they screamed, so there would be no such antics today -- she thought.
So naturally she was surprised to see a freighter burst out of nowhere and slide through the gap between the towers with centimeters to spare.
"What was that?" demanded Fey'la.
She smiled. She had overheard Han and Vader talking about the Falcon as they left the med center together. If she wasn't mistaken, Vader was piloting that ship. And if her instincts were correct, she would have to pull Vader aside and speak to him. He hadn't wanted a role on the Rebellion's front lines, but perhaps with some persuasion...
"As soon as that ship returns to the hangar," Mothma told Fey'la, "I want its occupants to come to my office."
***
/There goes Han's ship/ Luke thought dejectedly as the Falcon tipped on its port side to enter the gap between the towers. Threading the Needle was difficult enough to do in a fighter. A freighter would be pulverized into scrap in the attempt.
Incredibly enough, though, the Falcon slipped easily through the Needle without so much as a scrape.
"How'd he do that?!" squealed Squib.
"He's some pilot!" Rocky gushed.
"He's insane, that's what he is," Bekme retorted. "What's he trying to do, deep-fry himself?"
"I think he's just having fun," Mela replied.
"Oh, flying's supposed to be fun?" Gavin said sarcastically. "Sorry, I forgot."
Luke only gaped. Like it or not, Vader could fly! Now he realized just how lucky he'd been during the Death Star offensive. Had they had more room to maneuver, he wouldn't have lasted five seconds against the Sith in a space dogfight.
"Stop gawking and shoot him down!" Ghede ordered.
"Sir, he's not trying to escape," Ar'ya pointed out.
"Just shoot to disable," Luke told her. "We can't take chances."
"What the stang is he doing?" demanded Rocky. "He's headed right for that bluff!"
***
"Keep going straight at it," Han insisted.
The cliff face filled the viewscreen and was rapidly coming closer. Vader eased up on the throttle lest their last act in this galaxy be carving out a crater in the stone.
"Hey, don't slow down!" Han exclaimed.
"If we keep going at this speed, we'll be smashed to paste against it," Vader replied.
"Pull up at the last second," Han told him. "It's a real thrill. Trust me."
"Won't she stall with that much strain on the engines?"
Chewie growled.
"Don't be a worry wart, fuzz-ball," Han grumbled. "If the overhaul we did was any good, she'll hold up against the pressure."
Something unfamiliar to Vader, like a quiet but powerful presence, whispered a warning. Unconsciously, as if in a trance, he hauled on the controls. The Falcon began climbing up the cliff face, so close he could have reached out and touched the rock as it blurred by. Han was right -- this was a thrill.
***
Either Vader had decided death was preferable to recapture or he was insane, Luke decided as he trailed the Falcon. Strong argument existed for both theories. But either way, he had to stop him before he injured Han and Chewie.
"Forgive me, Han," he murmured as he aimed carefully at the anti-grav engine. Hopefully that would bring him down without damaging the Falcon too badly.
The freighter shot straight up the cliff face, then slowed to a halt on its own.
***
"Why are you slowing down?"
"I'm not!"
"Then why are we stopping?"
"Don't ask me."
There was a dreadful silence after the engines whined to a halt. The Falcon floated upward a dozen more meters and hung in the air for a seemingly endless moment, as if suspended in glass.
"I think we just stalled," said Vader.
"Ya think?" Han retorted.
***
The freighter hovered a second, as if unsure which direction to take next, then dropped like a stone. Trees snapped and splintered with a horrendous crackling smash as the ship impacted, tearing up the earth in its rough landing. It rocked once like an animal thrashing in pain and was still.
Luke winced. Well, at least he hadn't needed to shoot it down.
"I'll go down and investigate," Ghede said, his fighter gliding down toward the fallen ship. "Luke, continue going over formations with the squadron."
"Copy, Commander. Life, regroup. Scan area."
The X-wings gathered together and circled the air just over the Falcon's crash site. Luke peered down, watching Ghede land, then exit his fighter. Han, Chewie, and Vader climbed out of the Falcon, and Han and Ghede promptly got into a shouting match of some sort while Vader and Chewie inspected the Falcon for damage.
/What's going on?/ Luke wondered. /Why did Han let Vader in his ship in the first place?/
"Luke, aren't we going to go over formations?" asked Bekme.
"No," Luke replied. "We're going to do a round of Spy Pilot."
"That's not a formation," Rocky pointed out. "That's tag in starfighters."
"I know. That's what we're going to do for the next little while."
There was a collective exclamation from every pilot that was something along the lines of "Say what?"
"Oh, come on! We've been at formations for hours. We're tired and cranky and will probably burst an artery if we hear the words 'Flying Dragon' one more time. I say the squadron deserves a break."
"All right!" shouted Zev. "I'm it!"
"But you have to keep quiet," Luke ordered. "If Ghede finds out what we're doing, we all get KP for the next year."
Everyone laughed and veered in all directions as Zev looped around to playfully chase Wedge and Dekham.
***
Ghede sincerely hoped Skywalker could keep the pilots' immature antics under control while he was investigating the Falcon. Never mind that he was probably the worst of them all. Not talent-wise, of course -- the boy was gifted. But talent was useless without discipline, and he was sorely lacking in that area.
He snorted as he climbed out of his X-wing. These children the Alliance kept recruiting frustrated him to no end. To them, war was a game, with every kill a point for their team. They didn't understand that theirs was a task of utmost seriousness -- defending the Alliance from a space-born attack. He had to drive that into their thick skulls somehow.
He'd deal out a good round of discipline later. Right now he had a crazed Sith to handle.
He drew his blaster as he approached the fallen ship.
***
"All right, the overhaul wasn't as good as I thought," Han grumbled as the three of them disembarked. "Vader, I'm gonna need your help to fix her up."
"My pleasure," Vader replied, crouching to inspect the bottom of the ship. "Lucky. We came out of that without anything worse than a few more dents."
Chewie, who was standing atop the Falcon, howled.
"It's not my fault!" Han retorted. "The Alliance was fresh out of that part. I had to substitute..."
/Don't they ever quit arguing?/ Vader wondered.
"Han Solo!"
The blue-skinned Commander of the Alliance Squadron jogged toward them, blaster drawn. Fearing the worst, Vader took a step back.
"Are you all right, Han?" asked Ghede.
"We're all great," Han replied. "Why?"
"Good." Ghede aimed at Vader. "I'm placing Vader under arrest..."
Chewie roared, and Ghede found himself staring down the muzzle of Han's DL-44 pistol.
"I don't think you are," Han replied.
"He hijacked the Falcon and nearly caused the deaths of several members of Life Squadron! Not to mention disrupting their training..."
"You think he HIJACKED us?" Han laughed. "'Course not. I just let him take her for a flight. He's a good pilot."
Ghede gave a disbelieving snort. "And I suppose you're friends with him?"
"I'm his bodyguard," Han replied. "Mothma's order. He's an Alliance mechanic."
Vader could see that Ghede didn't believe him for a minute. But the Chiss eventually decided not to press the matter.
"You're to come with me to the base, Vader," ordered Ghede. "I'll be informing Mothma of this. Han, if that wreck of yours is still in flyable condition, follow me back to the Massassi temple. And for the galaxy's sake, don't let HIM fly it!"
***
It was an hour before the last of Life Squadron got back to base, still on an adrenaline high. Luke felt much better after having a chance to do some free-form flying, without the Commander nagging on him every thirty seconds.
"Thanks for the break," Gavin told him.
"I can almost be thankful for Vader," Bekme noted. "If he hadn't come along and distracted Ghede, we'd still be out there doing formations."
"Spare me," groaned Ar'ya. "I've done the Tight V so many times I can do it in my sleep."
"What I want to know is why he was flying the Falcon," said Wedge. "I mean, sure, he's a member of the Alliance now, but that doesn't exactly give him free access to everything in the base."
"Oh stang," groaned Janson. "Looks like Ghede's ratted on us."
Mon Mothma stood in the center of the hangar, hands clasped behind her. Luke's elation drained in an instant. Were they in trouble? He motioned to the others, and they gathered in a semi-circle before her.
"Lady Mothma..." he began, but no more words would come.
"Is there a problem?" asked Zev.
Unlike Ghede, Mothma didn't shout. That wasn't her way. But Luke almost wished she would scream at them. It would have been easier to deflect a loud, angry rant than her quiet, disappointed statement.
"I am very disappointed in you and your squadron, Skywalker," she said sadly. "I do not agree with all of Commander Ironmoon's techniques myself, but that is no reason to disregard his orders and rebel at the first opportunity. A leader deserves respect, if nothing else."
Guilt-ridden now, Luke stared at his feet. "I'm sorry, Mothma."
"I would accept your apology, Luke, but I'm not the one you should apologize to. Please speak to Ghede. He's in my office."
"Should the rest of us go too?" asked Dekham. "We should apologize too..."
"You may do so at a later time," Mothma told him. "I require Skywalker's presence anyhow. There have been... developments."
Luke stifled the urge to yawn loudly into his comm. It would get him in trouble with Ghede, but it would also drive home the point that having Life Squadron go over basic maneuvers a dozen times a day was completely pointless. If anything, it only served to bore them out of their skulls.
"Bombardment formation," Ghede ordered. "Sweep the area."
Obediently thirteen X-wings spread out in a wide, sweeping formation, one nicely suited to strafing large targets like bases or outposts. Except for the fact that there was only dense jungle and scattered ruins to strafe, of course. Luke had never imagined that flying could become boring, but apparently Ghede had a vampirish ability to suck the fun out of everything.
"Tight V, Life Eight center."
The fighters drew together, Gavin in the lead, the rest of the squadron in two equal lines behind. This formation was best for small targets that required intense fire. The lead fighter would fire at the target until he had to pull up, then the ones behind would continue firing, and so forth. This ensured an almost uninterrupted stream of fire pouring onto the target. If only they had an actual target.
"How much longer are we going to keep this up?" Ar'ya asked in her most diplomatic tone.
"We'll break at 1400. Now form up in the Flying Dragon."
It was one of the trickier formations -- a sort of flattened M shape, with the rear ships higher than the front ships. After the squadron made a fifth failed attempt at it, Ghede informed them there would be no break until they got it right.
"Wish something exciting would happen," muttered Zev.
"Can the chatter, Life Six!"
***
"And this is the main hangar," Han told Vader, sweeping his arm in an encompassing gesture. "That's the Falcon. Beautiful, isn't she?"
Vader snorted a laugh. "You were right about the 'hunk of junk' part."
"Ha, ha," Han replied sarcastically. "She may not look like much, but she's got it where it counts."
"Looks like you've done extensive modifying."
"Yeah, well, I like to keep her semi-up-to-date."
"How is she in the air?"
"You want to find out? Chewie, power her up. We'll see if the sub-light overhaul did any good."
***
"Sir, I'm picking up something big on my scope," Squib said worriedly. Being the youngest member of the squadron at sixteen, he had a chronic paranoid streak that countered his exceptional shooting ability.
Luke craned his neck to look back at the base. Rising up from the Massassi temple was the familiar disk-shaped freighter he'd come to know well.
"Life Leader to freighter, identify yourself," barked Ghede.
"Han Solo, Millennium Falcon. I'm taking her on a flight to test some modifications I did."
"Carry on, Solo, just stay away from the squadron."
"Will try, sir."
"Life, Flying Dragon again, and straighten up that left wing!"
Luke sighed and took his place at the right rear end of the formation. If something didn't happen to break the monotony of Ghede's drills, he'd have to stir up some excitement of his own.
***
"What do you think?" Han asked as he and Chewie took the Falcon on a low glide over the treetops.
Vader nodded in satisfaction. It was a pleasure to be up in the air. Somehow it felt right and natural to be here, to be airborne. But something seemed to be missing. He wasn't sure what, though.
"For a ship held together with dumb luck and crating tape, she flies well," he said aloud.
"You like her?"
"Very much." But in his mind he was already calculating what tools, parts, and labor would be needed to get the Falcon in proper flying shape. The list was staggeringly long. Well, perhaps he should leave out the cosmetic repairs. If Han had been flying her this long in this condition, he probably didn't care whether she looked like a luxury space yacht or a beater as long as she ran...
"You want to fly her?"
Vader stared at Han. "What?"
"I asked if you wanted to fly her."
A shiver of excitement gripped his stomach. "Are you serious?"
"I normally don't let just anyone in the pilot's chair," Han explained as he stood. "But if you're going to be doing work on her, it's a good idea for you to know how she handles."
Vader sat down in Han's place, a delicious thrill of anticipation flooding through him. Somehow this felt right, as if he was returning to his proper place after many years. Instinctively he took the controls, fed a little fuel to the repulsors, and shifted in his seat to find a comfortable position, which he found almost instantly.
"Now the pitch is a little touchy..." Han cautioned.
"How fast can she go?" Vader asked.
"Point five past light speed. Sub-light, I'd say..."
He didn't wait for Han to finish. Instead, he punched the throttle.
***
"Tighten formation!"
"Sir, when are we ever going to use the Flying Dragon?" asked Wedge. "It's a parade formation. The Alliance doesn't do parades."
"I require my pilots to know all basic formations," Ghede replied.
"Uh, sir?" Squib said nervously.
"What is it this time, Life Ten?" Ghede demanded in exasperation.
"The Falcon's coming up behind us really fast."
"Han knows to keep a safe distance from us..." Luke started to assure him.
An alarm screeched in every pilot's cockpit. The Falcon was headed for them -- on a collision course!
"Son of a jumpin'..." began Janson.
"Break formation!" Luke screamed.
Life Squadron scattered in all directions as the freighter roared through where they had just been. Had Luke been any slower in his order, one or more pilots would have been plastered against the Falcon's bow. A few chaotic moments passed as Ghede and Luke tried to restore order.
"Regroup," Ghede ordered. "He may come around for another pass."
"Han, what was that all about?" asked Luke. Was it another of the Corellian's jokes? If so, it wasn't particularly funny.
In answer the ship made an impossibly tight turn and charged them again.
***
"What the hell are you doing?!" screamed Han, arms flailing for balance as the Falcon tilted almost perpendicular to the ground to make the turn.
Vader only laughed ecstatically, pouring more power to the engines. This was ecstasy! How he'd missed this! It was as if he were part of the machinery of the Falcon, one with it. He felt invincible, omnipotent, a sky-god on a durasteel steed commanding the skies. He knew exactly how much stress the thrusters could take, how much juice to give the engines, how quickly he was approaching an obstacle...
And he was rapidly approaching such an obstacle! He wrenched at the controls.
"Watch out for --" Han began half-hysterically.
***
"Hobbie, look out!" Luke shouted.
"Yipe!" squealed Hobbie, veering up. The Falcon missed him by half a meter.
"Solo, this is no time for games!" Ghede shouted.
"Where's your sense of fun, Commander?" answered a deep, electronic voice that was definitely not Han.
Luke nearly choked with fear. Had the Alliance's worst fear indeed come true? Had Vader regained his memory and hijacked the Falcon in order to escape? And was he trying to eliminate Life Squadron on his way out?
"After that ship, Life!" Ghede barked. "Disable or destroy it, whatever it takes! But it can't leave the planet!"
They'd gotten the excitement they were looking for.
***
"You're going to get us all killed!" Han shouted.
Chewie barked.
"Whaddaya mean he reminds you of me when I was younger?" Han demanded. "I never flew like this maniac!"
Chewie said something that sounded remarkably like "Whose idea was it to let the maniac fly?"
What Han replied with Vader didn't know, for another memory inserted itself into his mind's eye.
..."You know I don't like it when you do that!"
"Sorry, Master," he replied without meaning it. His attention was solely on maneuvering the skycar through Corusant's traffic-clogged airways in pursuit of the would-be assassin. He was shooting through the air at top speed -- against the flow of traffic, to boot -- but the threat of crashing didn't concern him in the least.
"I forgot you don't like flying," he added.
"I don't mind flying, but what you're doing is suicide!" the passenger screamed...
"Whoa!" Han exclaimed, partly in fear but mostly in awe, as Vader executed a flawless barrel roll.
***
Luke gritted his teeth as he pursued the Falcon on a crazy, twist-filled course. He had no idea that ship was so maneuverable! But with Vader at the controls, what was he to expect?
"Wedge, Gavin, cover me," he ordered. "I'm going after him."
"Sure thing, Luke," Wedge replied.
"Go get 'em, Skywalker," urged Gavin.
The Falcon looped around a particularly tall tree, then soared straight up in the sky. Luke climbed after him, never minding the lurch of his stomach at the sudden change in direction. Now he had no qualms about killing Vader. He was no longer the dying shipwreck victim he had hauled out of the jungle, but a dangerous enemy in aerial combat. Behind the controls of starcraft, they were even adversaries.
His targeting computer locked onto the freighter. He applied pressure to the trigger...
/Luke!/
/Get out of my mind, Obi-wan!/
/Your friend Han is aboard that ship. Would you stoop so low as to kill him to see Vader dead?/
Han! Luke had completely forgotten that the smuggler was aboard the Falcon! He couldn't shoot now. Han was his friend, and he couldn't kill his friend... even if it meant letting Vader live.
"Shoot to disable," Luke ordered the squadron. "There are others on that ship besides Vader."
"Not to mention that Solo'll kill you if you dent his precious heap," Janson joked.
"That too," Luke acknowledged.
"He's going to try to thread the Needle!" Mela shouted in disbelief.
"Oh no," groaned Dekham. "That'll be a mess."
***
"Thanks for letting me fly, Han," said Vader, banking sharply.
"No problem," Han replied. His fear had gone now that he saw that Vader was actually an exceptional pilot. Confident that the former Sith wouldn't be involved in an accident, he had started suggesting maneuvers and acrobatics for him to try.
"Betcha fifty creds you can't thread the Needle," Han dared.
"What's the Needle?" asked Vader.
"That." Han pointed to a set of ruins ahead. The remains of two stone towers jutted skyward, a sliver of daylight shining between them.
"The Needle," Vader repeated, grinning eagerly. "Get your wallet out, Han." He gunned the engine.
***
Mothma and Fey'la were talking in her office when she happened to look out the window. The towers of the nearby Blackstone temple were visible from her office, and she had often watched pilots attempt to squeeze their ships between them during their off hours. Today, though, Ghede had planned to drill the squadron until they screamed, so there would be no such antics today -- she thought.
So naturally she was surprised to see a freighter burst out of nowhere and slide through the gap between the towers with centimeters to spare.
"What was that?" demanded Fey'la.
She smiled. She had overheard Han and Vader talking about the Falcon as they left the med center together. If she wasn't mistaken, Vader was piloting that ship. And if her instincts were correct, she would have to pull Vader aside and speak to him. He hadn't wanted a role on the Rebellion's front lines, but perhaps with some persuasion...
"As soon as that ship returns to the hangar," Mothma told Fey'la, "I want its occupants to come to my office."
***
/There goes Han's ship/ Luke thought dejectedly as the Falcon tipped on its port side to enter the gap between the towers. Threading the Needle was difficult enough to do in a fighter. A freighter would be pulverized into scrap in the attempt.
Incredibly enough, though, the Falcon slipped easily through the Needle without so much as a scrape.
"How'd he do that?!" squealed Squib.
"He's some pilot!" Rocky gushed.
"He's insane, that's what he is," Bekme retorted. "What's he trying to do, deep-fry himself?"
"I think he's just having fun," Mela replied.
"Oh, flying's supposed to be fun?" Gavin said sarcastically. "Sorry, I forgot."
Luke only gaped. Like it or not, Vader could fly! Now he realized just how lucky he'd been during the Death Star offensive. Had they had more room to maneuver, he wouldn't have lasted five seconds against the Sith in a space dogfight.
"Stop gawking and shoot him down!" Ghede ordered.
"Sir, he's not trying to escape," Ar'ya pointed out.
"Just shoot to disable," Luke told her. "We can't take chances."
"What the stang is he doing?" demanded Rocky. "He's headed right for that bluff!"
***
"Keep going straight at it," Han insisted.
The cliff face filled the viewscreen and was rapidly coming closer. Vader eased up on the throttle lest their last act in this galaxy be carving out a crater in the stone.
"Hey, don't slow down!" Han exclaimed.
"If we keep going at this speed, we'll be smashed to paste against it," Vader replied.
"Pull up at the last second," Han told him. "It's a real thrill. Trust me."
"Won't she stall with that much strain on the engines?"
Chewie growled.
"Don't be a worry wart, fuzz-ball," Han grumbled. "If the overhaul we did was any good, she'll hold up against the pressure."
Something unfamiliar to Vader, like a quiet but powerful presence, whispered a warning. Unconsciously, as if in a trance, he hauled on the controls. The Falcon began climbing up the cliff face, so close he could have reached out and touched the rock as it blurred by. Han was right -- this was a thrill.
***
Either Vader had decided death was preferable to recapture or he was insane, Luke decided as he trailed the Falcon. Strong argument existed for both theories. But either way, he had to stop him before he injured Han and Chewie.
"Forgive me, Han," he murmured as he aimed carefully at the anti-grav engine. Hopefully that would bring him down without damaging the Falcon too badly.
The freighter shot straight up the cliff face, then slowed to a halt on its own.
***
"Why are you slowing down?"
"I'm not!"
"Then why are we stopping?"
"Don't ask me."
There was a dreadful silence after the engines whined to a halt. The Falcon floated upward a dozen more meters and hung in the air for a seemingly endless moment, as if suspended in glass.
"I think we just stalled," said Vader.
"Ya think?" Han retorted.
***
The freighter hovered a second, as if unsure which direction to take next, then dropped like a stone. Trees snapped and splintered with a horrendous crackling smash as the ship impacted, tearing up the earth in its rough landing. It rocked once like an animal thrashing in pain and was still.
Luke winced. Well, at least he hadn't needed to shoot it down.
"I'll go down and investigate," Ghede said, his fighter gliding down toward the fallen ship. "Luke, continue going over formations with the squadron."
"Copy, Commander. Life, regroup. Scan area."
The X-wings gathered together and circled the air just over the Falcon's crash site. Luke peered down, watching Ghede land, then exit his fighter. Han, Chewie, and Vader climbed out of the Falcon, and Han and Ghede promptly got into a shouting match of some sort while Vader and Chewie inspected the Falcon for damage.
/What's going on?/ Luke wondered. /Why did Han let Vader in his ship in the first place?/
"Luke, aren't we going to go over formations?" asked Bekme.
"No," Luke replied. "We're going to do a round of Spy Pilot."
"That's not a formation," Rocky pointed out. "That's tag in starfighters."
"I know. That's what we're going to do for the next little while."
There was a collective exclamation from every pilot that was something along the lines of "Say what?"
"Oh, come on! We've been at formations for hours. We're tired and cranky and will probably burst an artery if we hear the words 'Flying Dragon' one more time. I say the squadron deserves a break."
"All right!" shouted Zev. "I'm it!"
"But you have to keep quiet," Luke ordered. "If Ghede finds out what we're doing, we all get KP for the next year."
Everyone laughed and veered in all directions as Zev looped around to playfully chase Wedge and Dekham.
***
Ghede sincerely hoped Skywalker could keep the pilots' immature antics under control while he was investigating the Falcon. Never mind that he was probably the worst of them all. Not talent-wise, of course -- the boy was gifted. But talent was useless without discipline, and he was sorely lacking in that area.
He snorted as he climbed out of his X-wing. These children the Alliance kept recruiting frustrated him to no end. To them, war was a game, with every kill a point for their team. They didn't understand that theirs was a task of utmost seriousness -- defending the Alliance from a space-born attack. He had to drive that into their thick skulls somehow.
He'd deal out a good round of discipline later. Right now he had a crazed Sith to handle.
He drew his blaster as he approached the fallen ship.
***
"All right, the overhaul wasn't as good as I thought," Han grumbled as the three of them disembarked. "Vader, I'm gonna need your help to fix her up."
"My pleasure," Vader replied, crouching to inspect the bottom of the ship. "Lucky. We came out of that without anything worse than a few more dents."
Chewie, who was standing atop the Falcon, howled.
"It's not my fault!" Han retorted. "The Alliance was fresh out of that part. I had to substitute..."
/Don't they ever quit arguing?/ Vader wondered.
"Han Solo!"
The blue-skinned Commander of the Alliance Squadron jogged toward them, blaster drawn. Fearing the worst, Vader took a step back.
"Are you all right, Han?" asked Ghede.
"We're all great," Han replied. "Why?"
"Good." Ghede aimed at Vader. "I'm placing Vader under arrest..."
Chewie roared, and Ghede found himself staring down the muzzle of Han's DL-44 pistol.
"I don't think you are," Han replied.
"He hijacked the Falcon and nearly caused the deaths of several members of Life Squadron! Not to mention disrupting their training..."
"You think he HIJACKED us?" Han laughed. "'Course not. I just let him take her for a flight. He's a good pilot."
Ghede gave a disbelieving snort. "And I suppose you're friends with him?"
"I'm his bodyguard," Han replied. "Mothma's order. He's an Alliance mechanic."
Vader could see that Ghede didn't believe him for a minute. But the Chiss eventually decided not to press the matter.
"You're to come with me to the base, Vader," ordered Ghede. "I'll be informing Mothma of this. Han, if that wreck of yours is still in flyable condition, follow me back to the Massassi temple. And for the galaxy's sake, don't let HIM fly it!"
***
It was an hour before the last of Life Squadron got back to base, still on an adrenaline high. Luke felt much better after having a chance to do some free-form flying, without the Commander nagging on him every thirty seconds.
"Thanks for the break," Gavin told him.
"I can almost be thankful for Vader," Bekme noted. "If he hadn't come along and distracted Ghede, we'd still be out there doing formations."
"Spare me," groaned Ar'ya. "I've done the Tight V so many times I can do it in my sleep."
"What I want to know is why he was flying the Falcon," said Wedge. "I mean, sure, he's a member of the Alliance now, but that doesn't exactly give him free access to everything in the base."
"Oh stang," groaned Janson. "Looks like Ghede's ratted on us."
Mon Mothma stood in the center of the hangar, hands clasped behind her. Luke's elation drained in an instant. Were they in trouble? He motioned to the others, and they gathered in a semi-circle before her.
"Lady Mothma..." he began, but no more words would come.
"Is there a problem?" asked Zev.
Unlike Ghede, Mothma didn't shout. That wasn't her way. But Luke almost wished she would scream at them. It would have been easier to deflect a loud, angry rant than her quiet, disappointed statement.
"I am very disappointed in you and your squadron, Skywalker," she said sadly. "I do not agree with all of Commander Ironmoon's techniques myself, but that is no reason to disregard his orders and rebel at the first opportunity. A leader deserves respect, if nothing else."
Guilt-ridden now, Luke stared at his feet. "I'm sorry, Mothma."
"I would accept your apology, Luke, but I'm not the one you should apologize to. Please speak to Ghede. He's in my office."
"Should the rest of us go too?" asked Dekham. "We should apologize too..."
"You may do so at a later time," Mothma told him. "I require Skywalker's presence anyhow. There have been... developments."