Luke watched helplessly as Biggs's ship shot away from the station surface and

out into clear space, closely followed by the Imperial. The enemy vessel fired

steadily at him, each successive bolt seeming to pass a little closer to Biggs's hull.

"He's on my tight," the voice sounded in Luke's cockpit. "I can't shake him."

Twisting, spinning, Biggs looped back toward the battle station, but the pilot

trailing him was persistent and showed no sign of relinquishing pursuit.

"Hang on, Biggs," Luke called, wrenching his ship around so steeply that the

straining gyros whined. "I'm coming in."

So absorbed in his pursuit of Biggs was the Imperial pilot that he didn't see Luke,

who rotated his own ship, flipped out of the concealing gray below and dropped in

behind him.

Electronic crosshairs lined up according to the computer-readout instructions,

and Luke fired repeatedly. There was a small explosion in space—tiny compared

with the enormous energies being put out by the emplacements on the surface of the

battle station. But the explosion was of particular significance to three people: Luke,

Biggs, and, most particularly, to the pilot of the Tie fighter, who was vaporized with

his ship.

"Got him!" Luke murmured.

"I've got one! I've got one!" came a less restrained cry of triumph over the

open intercom. Luke identified the voice as belonging to a young pilot known as

John D. Yes, that was Blue Six chasing another Imperial fighter across the metal

landscape. Bolts jumped from the X-wing in steady succession until the Tie fighter

blew in half, sending leaf-like glittering metal fragments flying in all directions.

"Good shooting, Blue Six," the squadron leader commented. Then he added

quickly, "Watch out, you've got one on your tail."

Within the fighter's cockpit the gleeful smile on the young man's face vanished

instantly as he looked around, unable to spot his pursuer. Something flared brightly

nearby, so close that his starboard port burst. Then something hit even closer and the

interior of the now open cockpit became a mass of flames.

"I'm hit, I'm hit!"

That was all he had time to scream before oblivion took him from behind. Far

above and to one side Blue Leader saw John D.'s ship expand in fiery ball. His lips

may have whitened slightly. Otherwise he might as well never have seen the X-wing

explode, for all the reaction he displayed. He had more important things to do.

On the fourth moon of Yavin a spacious screen chose that moment to flicker and

die, much as John D. had. Worried technicians began rushing in all directions.

One turned a drawn face to Leia, the expectant Commanders, and one tall, bronzed

robot.

"The high-band receiver has failed. It will take some time to fix…"

"Do the best you can," Leia snapped. "Switch to audio only."

Someone overheard, and in seconds the room was filled with the sounds of

distant battle, interspersed with the voices of those involved.

"Tighten it up, Blue Two, tighten it up," Blue Leader was saying. "Watch those

towers."

"Heavy fire, Boss," came to the voice of Wedge Antilles, "twenty-three degrees."

"I see it. Pull in, pull in. We're picking up some interference."

"I can't believe it," Biggs was stammering. "I've never seen such firepower!"

"Pull in, Blue Five. Pull in." A pause, then, "Luke, do you read me?

Luke?"

"I'm all right, Chief," came Luke's reply. "I've got a target. I'm going to

check it out."

"There's too much action down there, Luke," Biggs told him. "Get out. Do

you read me, Luke? Pull out."

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