Chapter Six: Empire Vs Alliance
I put General Kenobi, Han Solo and the tracking device all out of my mind as I gazed down at the battle being projected in the war room. My associates and I watched closely as the stimulated image of the Death Star approached Yavin IV; slowly, small green dots surrounded us on the holo – our small fleet of X-wings. I tuned everything else out as I gazed at the picture and listened to the tinny voices that echoed over the comm.
". . . fifteen minutes," one stated. I winced. That was the amount of time we had until the Death Star attempted to blow us into oblivion.
Red Leader began the checking-in process; I felt a twinge of guilt over not knowing the man's name. Of course, we had thousands of members, we recruited more every day, but I still felt bad over not being able to know everyone by face and name.
As everyone checked in, my thoughts wandered to Vader. I really wished he'd contact me; I wanted to know exactly what his plans were for this battle. Maybe he'd anonymously disable the Death Star's firing mechanisms? Or overthrow Tarkin? Perhaps he'd convinced the snake to bargain with us.
Yeah, right, Princess. Get real. I frowned.
Then I heard Luke check in and smiled; he was one of the last. Our small fleet of X-wings went out.
And then the battle began,and my smile vanished.
Luke took an early try at getting to the Death Star's weak spot. I held my breath as I watched the dot I knew represented him dive in, nearly fainted when he disappeared in enemy fire, and had to remind myself to resume breathing when he emerged from the flames.
"I got a little cooked," he said over the comm, "but I'm okay."
He took enough time to get his bearings back, then went in again. Or tried to, at least. An excess of enemy fire forced him to take out those sources and leave the objective alone for a while.
I began to pace with anxiety. Dodonna watched my passively from a corner; I ignored him. I knew he thought I was too young, impulsive, rash, emotional and several other traits that would do little good and quite a bit of harm on the battlefield. But his opinions were not my problem.
The battle continued. Luke received a glancing blow, and I desperately wanted to order him in, but I didn't say anything. Why did I ever let him go out in the first place?!
Because we needed pilots. And because if you hadn't, he would have asked why, looking at you with those big blue eyes, and you would have melted and let him go.
When had I become such a pushover?
Luke caught a tail, but another pilot got rid of it for him. Gold Squad attempted a run.
An officer pointed out several new fighters that had entered the fray; they were Imperial. I bent over the holo.
Three fighters in particular caught my eye. They were travelling quickly in a triangle formation, the one in the lead strangely brighter than the others. A different style of ship, perhaps, or --
-- or heavily modified.
It's Vader. Somehow, I knew it without a doubt. What is he planning?!
". . . five minutes," the computer chimed over the comm system. I clenched my teeth and found Vader's fighter again, following its path as he flitted about the battle space.
And then he shot at one of our pilots. Unlike Luke, this one didn't reappear.
I felt the blood drain from my face in shock, then surge back up in fury.
As I glared at his little red dot on the hollow, he fired again.
And again.
And again.
I could have cheerfully disemboweled him by that time.
Dodonna went to the comm and ordered half the Red Squad – the fullest squad left, at half their original size – to split up; half would stand by while the other half attempted a run. To my immense relief, Luke was one of the ones who fell back.
Vader went after the attackers, his wingmen closing up formation as they went. My shoulders tensed.
He shot one.
Then another.
Only Red Leader left, now. I bit my lip so hard it began to bleed.
Red Leader managed to get off a shot and avoid Vader, but it didn't go in. My hands clenched.
Luke was given the order to go in.
And Vader finally managed to kill Red Leader.
The tension in the air was thick. We realized now just what a suicide mission this had been. I resumed pacing as Luke and his two comrades began their run.
The guns mounted on the surface of the Death Star itself swiveled to follow them down the trench, showering laser bolts into the space around them. Behind them, Vader and his wingmen had circled back and were now proceeding to chase them down the trench.
Luke and the other two pilots had worked out a system – I'd listened to them talking about it over the comm. But that system didn't take Vader into account.
The first time Vader shot, he scored a hit. The fighter didn't disappear off the holo, but it did drop out of formation, the pilot expressing regret all the way. We sent a quick call down to the landing bay to give the mechanics a heads up, then we turned back to the battle.
Vader had let the wounded craft go; he was still tight on the tails of the other two fighters. If you so much as singe Luke's hair, I'll . . . I couldn't finish the thought, unsure of what I would do.
Luke sounded fairly calm, but the panic in the other pilot's voice as Vader pressed him had strained his nerves, I could tell. Just a few more metres, I urged him silently.
Then, Vader got the other pilot. Now, Luke was alone.
"He needs to get out of there," I said, my tone clipped.
Dodonna frowned at me. "He's our only hope, Princess."
I frowned right back. "I realize that, General. That doesn't mean he's in danger and needs to blow that things as quickly as possible. Vader will lock on him any second --" What is he thinking?! "-- and then we will have no hope!"
I turned away, and we went back to watching the projected battle in grim silence.
Vader was gaining on Luke, and with every inch my muscles tensed even more.
Suddenly, a beep sounded. My head flew up.
"His computer's off," a voice informed us – another strategist watching from another part of the building. "Luke, you switched off your targeting computer. What's wrong?"
"Nothing," Luke reassured us. "I'm alright."
A blast came from Luke's comm. "I've lost Artoo!" he said, dismay evident in his voice.
I jumped up at that news, wringing my hands. He didn't have any backup! I bit back a desperately unladylike phrase from my lips.
The intercom sounded. "The Death Star had cleared the planet," it told us, infuriatingly calm. "The Death Star had cleared the planet."
Vader began to fire at Luke. I was ready to throttle him with my bare hands.
Suddenly, one of Vader's wingmen disappeared, and Vader stopped firing.
We all blinked in confusion and leaned over the holo. Another ship had entered the battlefield, larger than either an X-wing or a TIE fighter, but far smaller than a Star Destroyer. If I had to hazard a guess, I could have suggested it was a light freighter, like --
"Yahoo!" came the exuberant shout over the comm, one I knew all too well.
"Who gave him our frequency?" I muttered.
"Are you complaining?" Dodonna asked me increduously.
I smiled reluctantly. "No."
"You're all clear, kid!" Han added to Luke after a few more moments of battle. "Now let's blow this thing and go home!"
Always eager, Luke did exactly that. He shot and hit, and within milliseconds, the Death Star was no more. We all sagged with happy weariness, smiling all around.
"Great shot, kid, that was one in a million!" Han sang over the comm.
We all headed for the door. I was the last one out, and the only once to notice as Vader's ship skipped off the radar into space.
Luke climbed slowly out of his cockpit, bright blue eyes wide with exhaustion. This whole thing was probably a bit surreal to him, never having been involved in battle before, and then to nearly single-handedly win us the most important one of our lives . . . I'd be stunned, too.
I called his name and pushed to the front of the crowd gathering around him and threw myself at him. He caught me and we moved in a delirious circle, half dancing, half bouncing. The Han shoved his way toward us and joined our celebration.
Luke's smile was downright beautiful. "I knew you'd come back!" he said to Han joyously. "I just knew it!"
The pirate's answering grin was just as happy and only slightly more arrogant. "Well, I wasn't gonna let you get all the credit and take all the reward."
"I knew there was more to you than money," I broke in. And if I hadn't known it before, well, I certainly did now.
Just then, Luke noticed his burnt-out astromech, ironically at the same time C-3PO did.
"Oh, no," Luke groaned. I wasn't sure if he meant the damage to R2-D2 or Threepio's alarmed squawking.
"Oh my! Artoo! Can you hear me? Say something!" The golden droid turned to the mechanic anxiously. "You can repair him, can't you?"
The mechanic looked like he was trying not to laugh. "We'll get to work on him right away."
"You must repair him!" Threepio stressed. "Sir, if any of my circuits or gears will help, I'll gladly donate them!"
"He'll be all right," Luke assured him.
I slipped my arms around Luke and Han and hugged them to me. "We'll all be alright."
I watched Luke, Han and Chewbacca stride toward me and kneel at my feet. They were being honoured for their roles in the Battle of Yavin, as the poets and bards were now calling it. I decorated all three, and they stood, turned, and posed for pictures with me.
It was such a happy time, yet all I could think of was just what I was going to say to Vader when he finally deemed fit to call me. He had a lot to answer for.
