I'm about to stuff your thread with most of chapter 12 from Star Wars. Hopefully you find this enlightening. Let me know if I'm not being useful. I hope this isn't annoying. If you want to skip to the most relevant posts, go here.
"Check, Blue Two. Watch yourself. All ships, stand by to lock S-foils
in attack mode."
One after another, from Luke and Biggs, Wedge and the other members of
Blue assault squadron, the replies came back. "Standing by..."
"Execute," Blue Leader commanded, when John D. and Piggy had indicated
they were in readiness.
The double wings on the X-wing fighters split apart, like narrow seeds.
Each fighter now displayed four wings, its wing-mounted armament and
quadruple engines now deployed for maximum firepower and maneuverability.
Ahead, the Imperial station continued to grow. Surface features became
visible as each pilot recognized docking bays, broadcast antennae, and other
man-made mountains and canyons.
As he neared that threatening black sphere for the second time, Luke's
breathing grew faster. Automatic life-support machinery detected the
respiratory shift and compensated properly.
Something began to buffet his ship, almost as if he were back in his
skyhopper again, wrestling with the unpredictable winds of Tatooine. He
experienced a bad moment of uncertainty until the calming voice of Blue
Leader sounded in his ears.
"We're passing through their outer shields. Hold tight. Lock down
freeze-floating controls and switch your own deflectors on, double front."
The shaking and buffeting continued, worsened. Not knowing how to
compensate, Luke did exactly what he should have: remained in control and
followed orders. Then the turbulence was gone and the deathly cold
peacefulness of space had returned.
"That's it, we're through," Blue Leader told them quietly. "Keep all
channels silent until we're on top of them. It doesn't look like they're
expecting much resistance."
Though half the great station remained in shadow, they were now near
enough for Luke to be able to discern individual lights on its surface. A
ship that could show phases matching a moon... once again he marveled at the
misplaced ingenuity and effort which had gone into its construction.
Thousands of lights scattered across its curving expanse gave it the
appearance of a floating city.
Some of Luke's comrades, since this was their first sight of the
station, were even more impressed. "Look at the size of that thing!" Wedge
Antilles gasped over his open pickup.
"Cut the chatter, Blue Two," Blue Leader ordered. "Accelerate to attack
velocity."
Grim determination showed in Luke's expression as he flipped several
switches above his head and began adjusting his computer target readout.
Artoo Detoo re-examined the nearing station and thought untranslatable
electronic thoughts.
Blue Leader compared the station with the location of their proposed
target area. "Red Leader," he called toward the pickup, "this is Blue
Leader. We're in position; you can go right in. The exhaust shaft is farther
to the north. We'll keep 'em busy down here."
Red Leader was the physical opposite of Luke's squadron commander. He
resembled the popular notion of a credit accountant-short, slim, shy of
face. His skills and dedication, however, easily matched those of his
counterpart and old friend.
"We're starting for the target shaft now, Dutch. Stand by to take over
if anything happens."
"Check, Red Leader," came the other's reply. "We're going to cross
their equatorial axis and try to draw their main fire. May the Force be with
you."
From the approaching swarm, two squads of fighters broke clear. The
X-wing ships dove directly for the bulge of the station, far below, while
the Y-ships curved down and northward over its surface.
Within the station, alarm sirens began a mournful, clangorous wail as
slow-to-react personnel realized that the impregnable fortress was actually
under organized attack. Admiral Motti and his tacticians had expected the
Rebels' resistance to be centered around a massive defense of the moon
itself. They were completely unprepared for an offensive response consisting
of dozens of tiny snub ships.
Imperial efficiency was in the process of compensating for this
strategic oversight. Soldiers scrambled to man enormous defensive- weapons
emplacements. Servodrivers thrummed as powerful motors aligned the huge
devices for firing. Soon a web of annihilation began to envelop the station
as energy weapons, electrical bolts, and explosive solids ripped out at the
oncoming rebel craft.
"This is Blue Five," Luke announced to his mike as he nose dived his
ship in a radical attempt to confuse any electronic predictors below. The
gray surface of the battle station streaked past his ports. "I'm going in."
"I'm right behind you, Blue Five," a voice recognizable as Biggs's
sounded in his ears.
The target in Luke's sights was as stable as that of the Imperial
defenders was evasive. Bolts flew from the tiny vessel's weapons. One
started a huge fire on the dim surface below, which would burn until the
crew of the station could shut off the flow of air to the damaged section.
Luke's glee turned to terror as he realized he couldn't swerve his
craft in time to avoid passing through the fireball of unknown composition.
"Pull out, Luke, pull out!" Biggs was screaming at him.
But despite commands to shift course, the automatic pressors wouldn't
allow the necessary centrifugal force. His fighter plunged into the
expanding ball of superheated gases.
Then he was through and clear, on the other side. A rapid check of his
controls enabled him to relax. Passage through the intense heat had been
insufficient to damage anything vital-though all four wings bore streaks of
black, carbonized testimony to the nearness of his escape.
Hell-flowers bloomed outside his ship as he swung it up and around in a
sharp curve. "You all right, Luke?" came Biggs's concerned query.