By Alan B. Pechman

WedgeAntilles@worldnet.att.net

Chapter Seven

"Luke Skywalker, this is Wedge Antilles."

Wedge extended his hand and Luke responded in kind. Wedge couldn't help but

notice that Luke was about his age and looked like he was right off the farm.

One thing that was apparent was the fire that burned behind Luke's blue eyes. He

realized he was staring and nervously looked away.

"Luke here is a pilot, Wedge, and I want you to check him out on the cockpit

layout of the X-wing." Theron Nett looked at both young pilots. They were young

and they were the Alliance's future. He only hoped they lived long enough for

that to pass. "If you boys need anything else, let me know. Luke, we'll have a

flight suit sent to your quarters along with a helmet and anything else you may

need."

"Thank you, sir." Luke said.

Theron nodded and left Wedge's quarters. Luke looked around. There were three

cots and footlockers here and not much else. He did notice, though, that two of

the cots, including Wedge's by the pilot's proximity to it, were rumpled and

looked 'lived in'. The third bunk was meticulously kept. "Will that be mine?"

Wedge looked over at the neat and tidy bunk. "That? No, that's Biggs

Darklighter's bunk."

"Biggs!"

Wedge looked back, a little startled by Luke's outburst. Luke had a big grin on

his face, all smolder in his eyes gone. "You know him then?"

Luke nodded and stepped over to the bunk. He reached down and patted the

blanket, feeling how tight it was tucked. "Good ol' Biggs," he nodded. He

reached down and yanked the blanket back with a laugh.

Wedge shook his head, smiling. "You shouldn't have done that. He's real

particular about his things."

Luke looked over at Wedge. The other pilot stood there smiling at him. "Well,

when he asks, 'Who in blazes did this?' you can tell him that we can settle this

with a run in Beggar's Canyon. He'll know its me."

"You obviously know him well, I take it then?"

Luke nodded. "We grew up together on Tatooine. He was, er, is my best friend."

Luke dropped himself down on Biggs' bunk. "That is if his time at the Academy

and here didn't change him much."

Wedge sat down on his bunk and leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees

and chin resting between his palms. He liked Luke. There was something about his

demeanor that put him at ease. A lot of new pilots that came in seemed like they

had to try and show off and act tough, but in the few minutes he knew Luke he

could tell that that wasn't the case. "No, not from what I can tell. Can I ask

you something, though?"

Luke nodded. "Sure, anything, Wedge. Look, if you're a friend of Biggs then

you're a friend of mine."

"Thanks. I was wondering, did you come here with the Princess?"

Luke really smiled now. "Uh-huh, sure did. Boy, she's something else, too."

Wedge laughed a bit. "I know what you mean. For some one our age she sure acts

real mature. So that means you came here with Solo too then, right?"

"Yes I did, do you know him too?"

"Not hardly. But everyone from Corellia has heard of him."

Now Luke laughed. "That's not surprising considering how big his ego is. But he

seems to be all right, though. Say, if you don't mind, where's Biggs off to,

anyway?"

Wedge got up and headed for the door. He motioned for Luke to follow him. "He's

off on a patrol of the outer system. He should be back in a few hours. Right now

we'd better get you situated and ready to go. Have you ever flown a T-65

X-wing?"

Luke walked beside Wedge. They walked the short distance it took to get to the

hanger as Luke answered him. "No, but I have flown a T-16 Skyhopper for most of

my life."

Wedge and Luke headed over to one of the X-wings. It had five TIE fighter

markings and half of a tri-winged type that Luke didn't recognize. The fighter

looked like it was in fairly good shape and had a fresh coat of gray paint with

red stripes. Just under the cockpit he read the name of the pilot. It said: F.O.

Wedge Antilles. Luke's eyes widened. Here was someone about his age and he was

already an ace! He had to be really good!

Wedge reached up and patted the fuselage. He seemed genuinely proud of his ship

and Luke became a little jealous. But then he realized that he would get one of

his own too. It felt strange to actually be standing here, as part of the

Rebellion, and to have the Death Star coming here was almost too much for him to

handle. It seemed ages ago that he was back on his Uncle and Aunt's farm even

though it was only a few days.

"Something wrong, Luke?"

Luke snapped out of his trance. "No. Nothing, it's just all a little, I don't

know how to put it-"

"Overwhelming?"

Luke looked at Wedge. He could read the empathy in his eyes. "Yes, that's it.

Say, I know we have to get going on this, but, if it's okay with you," Luke

hesitated. "Well, I can't help but notice that you're about my age. How did you

end up here?"

Wedge grimaced and Luke thought he might have said the wrong thing. Wedge sighed

and looked up at his cockpit, then back at Luke. He absentmindedly ran a hand

along the lower part of the fuselage. "I guess you can say it was fate. About

six months ago a criminal named Hask docked at my parent's fuelling station at

Gus Treta, near Corellia. CorSec, er, that's Corellian Security, had been after

him and tracked him there. He fled but forgot to unhook his fuel lines. It

started a fire that destroyed the station and killed my parents. I tried free

trading awhile with my inheritance but that got me nowhere so I started running

guns for the Rebellion because of a contact I knew who got me in. One thing led

to another and now I'm here."

Luke shook his head slightly. "I'm sorry to hear that, Wedge. I'll have to tell

you about what happened to me sometime but I guess we should take care of this

first."

Wedge put a hand on the ladder leading up to the cockpit and nodded up to it

with his head. "Sure, Luke, no problem. Why don't you jet on up there and we'll

take care of business. We have a guy who flew T-16's besides Biggs and they've

both said how similar these are."

Luke climbed up the ladder and surveyed the cockpit. "That's good to know." He

eased a leg into the cockpit and grabbed onto the forward windscreen. He gently

eased himself into the cockpit. He looked over as Wedge climbed up the ladder

and waited as Luke absorbed his surroundings.

Luke looked at the various displays and noticed the flight stick. It was just

like the one on the T-16 with the exception of having a trigger and thumb

selector. It felt very comfortable to him in an odd way. He took a deep breath

to settle his nerves. He noticed the cockpit had a slight musky odor to it and

he realized that it must be sweat. It occurred to him that, unlike his runs

through Beggar's canyon back home, when things got hairy here the sweat was born

of fear and survival instincts. It brought the reality home of what flying in

combat was all about. The fact that Wedge had five-and-a-half kills began to

sink in.

Growing up he and Biggs dreamed of flying for the Empire, not realizing at all

what it meant to do that. When Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru were killed by that same

Empire, he realized that it wasn't all what he thought it to be.

Those kills on Wedge's fuselage meant that other pilots like him had died

fighting for what they believed in, but if what they believed in helped

perpetuate the murder of innocents then that was wrong. It all seemed so

confusing for him even though he figured it should be so obvious.

He realized Wedge had said something to him. "Uh, what? Sorry, I was off

somewhere else again."

Wedge just nodded. "I know. Don't worry about it. I'll start again."

Wedge explained what everything did and once Luke started concentrating, it

became obvious to him that he was a quick learner. He seemed to anticipate what

each thing did and asked leading questions that were quite intuitive. It wasn't

long before Wedge knew that Luke wouldn't kill himself in this fighter.

"Dang, Luke, I'm starting to wonder if you should be teaching me about how this

fighter works."

Luke hoisted himself up and waited for Wedge to climb down before he descended

the ladder. He gave a laugh. "I don't think so Wedge. You're a pretty good

teacher." The two pilots started back for the pilots quarters.

Theron Nett intercepted them. He noticed the two young pilots seemed to hit it

off in a short amount of time. Seeing the way they talked kind of reminded him

of himself and Garven. It was a good sign. "Excuse me, gentlemen, may I

interrupt?"

"Sure, Lieutenant," said Wedge. Luke nodded.

"How do you feel about flying that fighter, Luke?"

"I think I'll be fine, Lieutenant."

Theron nodded and placed a hand on Luke's shoulder and gave it a squeeze. "Good,

because you're going to be Red 5 for this upcoming mission against the Death

Star. Think you can handle it?"

Luke's face erupted into a huge grin. "You bet I can, sir!" He hadn't thought

there would be enough fighters to go around against the Death Star. Now he felt

like he could play his part in avenging the people of Alderaan and his fallen

mentor, Obi-wan Kenobi.

"What happened to Janson, Lieutenant?" Wedge asked.

Theron removed his hand from Luke's shoulder. "He's in the infirmary for Hesken

fever, he'll have to sit this one out. Luke, your stuff is in the quarters on

the second level. For now, you'll have it to yourself because it used to belong

to a female pilot. If there's anything else just let me know. Any questions?" He

saw that both pilots nodded but didn't have any questions. "Good. Combat

briefing is in half an hour, I suggest you make good use of that time."

The two junior pilots saluted and parted ways with the Lieutenant, lost in

thought for the impending briefing and subsequent mission.

A short time later, Theron was finishing up getting his flight suit on when

Garven stopped by his quarters. His friend was already suited up. Theron

couldn't help but notice that Garven looked a bit nervous. He hadn't seen him

like that in some time. He himself felt some jitters but they were what he

always felt before a mission.

"That kid Skywalker gonna be ready?"

Theron shrugged. "He said he was. Does it matter? I mean, he either is or isn't.

This isn't really the best mission to find out on, you know?"

Garven sat on Theron's bunk. He nervously slapped the helmet with his hand. He

seemed to catch himself and stopped. "I don't know, Theron. I just don't know

anymore."

Theron knit his eyebrows and pulled the chair from his desk out and sat on it

backwards, leaning on the seat back with crossed arms. In all the time he knew

Garven he had never seen him this bad. "Hey, it can't be that bad," he lied and

knew Garven knew it.

Garven looked at his friend and smiled. Theron looked back and couldn't help

smiling. "You know, we've been through a whole lot together, old friend. I'm

proud to have you on my wing. I know I haven't told you that, but I am."

"I know."

Garven shook his head. "Sure, I forgot, you have your sources, right?"

Both men laughed for aloud, all tension leaving the room on swift wings.

Biggs walked into his quarters with Piggy in tow. Both pilots had just been

recalled from patrol duty for the briefing. Biggs immediately saw that his bunk

was a mess. He looked over at Wedge. The young Corellian was pulling on his last

boot.

"What in blazes happened to my bunk, Wedge?"

Wedge looked over and shrugged. It was all Piggy could do not to laugh as he

squeezed by the fussy pilot. "Looks like you forgot to make it up, Biggs."

"That's absurd, Porkins. I'm not like you two. I don't forget." He walked over

and stood in front of Wedge. "Well?"

Wedge stood up. He was a little shorter than Biggs but looked him in the eye

nonetheless. "He said to tell you that if you didn't like it that you could

settle up with a run through Beggar's canyon."

Biggs furrowed his brow. That didn't make any sense to him. And then it dawned

on him. "Luke! Luke Skywalker is here? Well I'll be a skinned Krayt Dragon!

Where is he?"

Wedge couldn't help but smile. He had never seen Biggs this animated. "I don't

know. He was bunking in Doc's old quarters but he suited up and left. I'm sure

you'll see him at the briefing."

Biggs couldn't even begin to fathom how Luke could have found his way here, but

he didn't care. Only Luke would have the courage to challenge him and the fact

that he was here meant he would pay for messing up his bunk. He spied Piggy

leaning down next to his own bunk scraping something on the wall of the ancient

stone.

"What are you doing, Porkins?"

Piggy straightened up and switched his small vibroblade off. "Come take a look

and use this."

Biggs and Wedge stepped over to see what Piggy had inscribed in the wall. It

said: "The Empire or Us-there is no compromise."

"It says it all, don't you think?"

Both Wedge and Biggs looked at Piggy and nodded in agreement.

"That's perfect, Piggy."

A short time later, the three pilots headed to the most important briefing in

their young lives. The wall where Porkins had started to scribe was finished now

as a testament to their bravery. It said: "The Empire or Us-there is no

compromise. Biggs Darklighter Wedge Antilles Jek Porkins."

Biggs walked into the briefing room and noted that every seat was taken. That

didn't concern him as much as finding his childhood friend, Luke Skywalker. He

hadn't heard from him since the day he returned to Tatooine to bid his farewell

to family and friends. He scanned the gathering of pilots. Finally he spotted

Luke.

He was sitting next to the new pilot named John Drambinian and engaged in small

talk. Before he could shout to his friend, General Jan Dodonna and Princess Leia

walked to the head of the room, followed by an astromech R2 unit that promptly

plugged itself into the main briefing terminal. The crowd silenced itself in

anticipation. The trepidation of all weighed heavily in the humid air.

Without preamble, the General began. "We are here assembled as the last bastion

of defense against the mighty Empire. As we speak, the Emperor's most dreaded

new weapon called 'Death Star' is surely on its way here having tracked the

Princess and her retinue."

Murmurs throughout the room were quieted as the R2 unit brought a schematic to

life on the large display screen behind the General. It looked like a small

planetoid with a singular, evil looking eye. Something told Biggs that the 'eye'

as it were, was hardly that. The General continued. "The battle station is

heavily shielded and carries a firepower greater than half the star fleet. Its

defenses are designed around a direct large-scale assault. A small one-man

fighter should be able to penetrate the outer defense."

As the import of his words started sinking in, Dutch Vander spoke up. "Pardon me

for asking, sir, but what good are snub fighters going to be against that?"

"Well," he answered, nodding in agreement, "the Empire doesn't consider a small

one-man fighter to be any threat, or they'd have a tighter defense. An analysis

of the plans provided by Princess Leia has demonstrated a weakness in the battle

station."

The R2 unit's link whirred and rotated, processing more information. A close up

of the station emerged on the briefing screen, highlighting an equatorial

trench. It zoomed in further; rendering more detail as it zoomed to a level of

detail that roughly equated to the view from a fighter cockpit.

"The approach will not be easy. You are required to maneuver straight down this

trench and skim the surface to this point." The display scrolled to a stop at a

dead end in the trench. "The target area is only two meters wide. It's a small

thermal exhaust port, right below the main port. The shaft leads directly to the

reactor system. A precise hit will start a chain reaction which should destroy

the station."

Murmurs of clear disbelief rippled through the assembled pilots. The General

pressed his last point across like a proton torpedo. "Only a precise hit will

set up a chain reaction. The shaft is ray-shielded, so you'll have to use proton

torpedoes."

"That's impossible, even for a computer!"

Luke glanced at John Drambinian seated to his left and spoke up in response.

"It's not impossible. I used to bull's-eye womp rats in my T-16 back home.

They're not much bigger than two meters."

John D, as he was called due to his long last name, arched an eyebrow at Luke.

Luke knew he was about as brazen as Biggs was in his confidence. He had to

admit, though, as he thought more about it, that Biggs usually backed up his

boasts. Maybe he was the same.

Meanwhile, in the back of the room, Biggs smiled from ear to ear. Good old Luke,

he thought. He felt a tap on his shoulder and looked to see Piggy standing

there. The older pilot nodded once at Luke.

"He's right, you know."

"What, that it's impossible?"

Piggy shook his head. "No, not that. I used to nail sink crabs back home and

they're only about, oh, one and a half meters long." He crossed his arms over

his chest.

Biggs smirked. "Sure, Porkins, but anyone can hit a floating bug. Womp rats

skitter along mighty fast. You couldn't hit one if you were right on top of it."

Biggs crossed his arms in mockery of Piggy. Before the large man could continue,

he heard the General issue his last command.

"Man your ships!" He proclaimed, "And may the Force be with you!"

"Oh yeah?" Piggy said back to Biggs as the group rose and began to file out.

"How about a little competition after we get back from blowing that Death Star

to Hell?"

Biggs craned his neck, looking for Luke. He placed a hand up to silence the

older pilot. He couldn't see where his childhood friend had run off to. He felt

his arm being pushed back down. He turned back to Piggy, pulling his arm away.

"Whatever you say, Piggy. Excuse me." He headed off into the crowd.

Piggy just stood there, watching the Tatooine native push his way through the

crowd of departing pilots. He grunted and turned away, heading for his own

fighter. He hoped he sounded more confident than he felt about hitting a

two-meter wide object.

Biggs raced into the main hanger and still couldn't find his friend. All around

him, pilots and crews readied for battle. He spotted Wedge heading for his

fighter and raced over. Catching up to his friend, he tapped him on the

shoulder.

"Hey Wedge, did you see Luke?"

The younger pilot shook his head. "No, but I bet he went to get into his flight

suit. He'll be here soon, I imagine. Say, you know something? Are all you pilots

from Tatooine so cocky?"

Biggs chuckled. "Not nearly as cocky as the ones from Corellia." He reached up

and tousled Wedge's hair. "Good Luck, Hot shot, I'll see you up top." As quickly

as he approached Wedge, he ran off.

Wedge looked after the departing pilot. He thought about what Biggs just said.

It occurred to him that he wasn't sure if he was complimented or insulted by

Biggs' remarks. He figured he had better think about it later. He headed for his

fighter, thoughts of avenging his lost friends were chief in his mind. He was

going to make the Empire pay this day.

Garven Dreis stood with Theron Nett and Gold Squadron's leaders, Dutch Vander

and Pops Krail. The four veterans looked at the group of young pilots as they

readied for battle, a veritable calming influence on the younger pilots. Being

seasoned veterans, the four men looked on in silence, ascertaining the group's

readiness.

"We've been in worse scrapes." Pops uttered matter-of-factly in his gravely

voice. The three pilots looked over at him. "Oh come on, you know what I mean.

This'll be a training run."

The other three pilots chuckled at Pops' obvious exaggeration. Theron spoke up

in response. "You're right, Pops. Only now we have more advanced fighters on our

side, like your old tug, for instance."

"Now, now," Garven intervened. "Just because Krail-the-rookie here hasn't

graduated to X-wings doesn't mean you should pick on him, Theron." The other

pilots laughed. It was a nervous laugh. The younger pilots were just about ready

and the veterans knew it was time for them to go as well.

Dutch extended his hand to Garven who reciprocated and grabbed his friend into a

hug. "Good Luck, Dutch. See to it that your aim is true, my friend."

Dutch smiled. "Rest assured, Garven it will be. You just keep those TIE's off of

us, okay?"

"You betcha."

The four friends went their separate ways.

Biggs scrambled around the hanger frantically looking for Luke but was having no

such luck spotting him. Finally, he headed over towards Luke's X-wing,

bewildered why he didn't just do that in the first place. Nerves, he thought.

He was rewarded by his friend approaching his X-wing, a glum expression on his

face.

"Luke!" He ran over. His friend spied his approach and his face lit up like a

Coruscant light show. "I don't believe it! How'd you get here...are you going

out with us?!"

Luke laughed and embraced his best friend. "Biggs! Of course, I'll be up there

with you! Listen, have I got some stories to tell..."

"Skywalker!" Garven stepped over to the two Tatooine natives. He was a little

surprised at Luke's stature, having met the boy's father himself. Granted it was

years ago, but he remembered Anakin Skywalker as a large man. "Have you been

checked out on the Incom T-sixty-five? Think you can handle her?"

Biggs broke in. "Sir, Luke is the best bushpilot in the outer rim territories."

Garven looked from one pilot to another. He knew Biggs well enough to know that

he didn't boast about anything he couldn't back up. He raised his eyebrows. "I

met your father once when I was just a boy, he was a great pilot. You'll do all

right. If you've got half of your father's skill, you'll do better than all

right."

"Thank you, sir. I'll try."

Garven gave Luke's shoulder a mild slap from his gloves and walked towards his

own fighter, already lost in thought.

Biggs hid back the surprise he felt. Luke had always mentioned that his father

was a navigator on a spice ship, not a starfighter pilot. He'd have to remember

to ask Luke about that when they returned. "I've got to get aboard. Listen,

you'll tell me your stories when we come back. All right?"

"I told you I'd make it someday, Biggs."

Biggs started off towards his own fighter. Smiling back he said, "You did, all

right. It's going to be like old times, Luke. We're a couple of shooting stars

that'll never be stopped!"

Garven finished his preflight checks and waited for the command clearance to

launch. As the command crackled over his headset, he automatically started the

launch sequence he had performed hundreds of times before.

Although he was a veteran of countless campaigns, he never once faced what the

Alliance faced today. Jitterflies danced and fluttered in his belly, almost to

the point of making him ill, but he knew he couldn't show that to his pilots.

All told, only 30 Alliance fighters rose to meet the incoming Imperial threat.

He knew the Alliance had more resources than that but they couldn't get them to

the secret base at Yavin in time. A few pilots of Narra's command augmented his

own squadron; pilots he didn't know and he had not had time to ascertain their

strengths and skills. That couldn't be helped now, though, he knew.

As he rocketed out of the ancient temple's massive hanger, he glanced down at

the jungle's lush green canopy. It was morning, his favorite time of day. All

seemed still and like every other day, expectant of the day to come. He idly

wondered as he pulled back on his fighter's flight stick if he would ever get

the chance to admire it again in the predawn with a steaming cup of caf.

He reached up and lowered his orange visor on his helmet as his X-wing screamed

out of Yavin IV's atmosphere, the large gaseous Yavin Prime looming ever so

large in his forward view. He grunted and swore to himself that he would make it

back to do just that.