"So I cut off my power, shut down the afterburners, and dropped in low on Deak’s tail," Luke finished, waving his arms wildly. He and Biggs were walking in the shade outside the power station. Sounds of metal being worked came from somewhere within, where Fixer had finally joined his robot assistant in performing repairs.
"I was so close to him," Luke continued excitedly, "I thought I was going to fry my instrumentation. As it was. I busted up the skyhopper pretty bad." That recollection inspired a frown.
"Uncle Owen was pretty upset. He grounded me for the rest of the season." Luke’s depression was brief. Memory of his feat overrode its immorality.
"You should have been there, Biggs!" "You ought to take it a little easier," his friend cautioned. "You may be the hottest bush pilot this side of Mos Eisley, Luke, but those little skyhoppers can be dangerous. They move awfully fast for tropospheric craft—faster than they need to.
Keep playing engine jockey with one and someday, whammo!" He slammed one fist violently into his open palm. "You’re going to be nothing more than a dark spot on the damp side of a canyon wall." "Look who’s talking," Luke retorted. "Now that you’ve been on a few big automatic starships you’re beginning to sound like my uncle. You’ve gotten soft in the cities." He swung spiritedly at Biggs, who blocked the movement easily, making a halfhearted gesture of counterattack.
Biggs’s easygoing smugness dissolved into something warmer. "I’ve missed you, kid." Luke looked away, embarrassed. "Things haven’t exactly been the same since you left, either, Biggs. It’s been so—" Luke hunted for the right word and finally finished helplessly, "so quiet." His gaze traveled across the sandy, deserted streets of Anchorhead. "Its always been quiet, really." Biggs grew silent, thinking. He glanced around. They were along out there.
Everyone else was back inside the comparative coolness of the power station. As he leaned close Luke sense an unaccustomed solemness in his friend’s tone.
"Luke, I don’t come back just to say good-bye, or to crow over everyone because I got through the Academy." Again he hesitate, unsure of himself. Then he blurted out rapidly, not giving himself a chance to back down, "But I want somebody to know.
I can’t tell my parents." Gaping at Biggs, Luke could only gulp, "Know what? What are you talking about?" "I’m talking about the talking that’s been going on at the Academy—and other places, Luke. Strong talking. I made some new friends, outsystem friends. We agreed about the way certain things are developing, and—" his voice dropped conspiratorially—"When we reach one of the peripheral systems, we’re going to jump ship and join the Alliance." Luke stared back at his friend, tried to picture Biggs—fun-loving, happy-go- lucky, live-for-today Biggs—as patriot afire with rebellious fervor.
"You’re going to join the rebellion?" he started. "You’ve got to be kidding.
How? "Damp down, will you?" the bigger man cautioned. "You’ve got a mouth like a crater." "I’m sorry," Luke whispered rapidly. "I’m quiet—listen how quiet I am. You can barely hear me—" Biggs cut him off and continued. "A friend of mine from the Academy has a friend on Bestine who might enable us to make contact with an armed rebel unit." "A friend of a—You’re crazy," Luke announced with conviction, certain his friend had gone mad. "You could wander around forever trying to find a real rebel outpost.
责任编辑：mman
