Star Wars: Forgotten Heroes

Extraction

The prisoners were on their second wind as they ran through the hangar. The member of each enslaved family who could call themselves something close to a pilot searched for a ship that would compliment their knowledge of flying. Then they boarded the women and children in the passenger seats, the cargo holds, wherever they would fit and be most secure.

The Naboo security hopped back in their TIEs save for Qatar who fixed up his N1 Starfighter. The elegant, yellow and glassy silver ship made for the only color in the otherwise sterile, gray hangar.

Weston watched as Qatar fiddled with the controls, "you sure that's still flyable without..."

"It'll have to do. I'm not giving her up." Qatar snapped, not diverting his focus from making dire, manual adjustments to the ship's flight capabilities. "Now go. I'll lead the convoy. You three take the rear."

"You sure you want to take the frontal assault on your own?"

"It'll take minutes for the Executor to scramble fighters from another wing. So we'll have some time to make a break for it. If we encounter any resistance it'll most likely be from getting tailed. In essence, you'll be taking the most heat."

"Oh. And I thought this was some selfless Jedi plan." Weston mumbled to himself.

"It's a practical plan. Taking a play from your book."

Weston smirked, nodded and readied his fighter.

Qatar fitted on his helmet and pulled down his goggles. And as he pulled on his gloves he opened his mouth to ask R6 if he was ready, then he looked back at the empty astromech socket, took a deep breath, and pushed down the forward thruster as hard as he could, shooting himself out of the hangar like debris from an explosion.

His confident maneuver excited the nearly-freed prisoners as they followed suit, and the rest of the Queen's Royal Guard following close behind in the flight pattern they'd flown for bringing the Nubian Royal Starship into Theed.

The escapees all heard a sudden crackle emanating from their comlinks.

"Impressive, getting in and out like that with only a dent in casualties, all things considered. I suppose I've underestimated the Naboo. Lord Vader was deeply disappointed in my inability to detect your ruse. But I won't be making that mistake again." It was the Imperial Officer that had cleared their landing onto the Executor.

"And you, omwati." He continued, stating the name of the distant and exotic race with disgust and irritation, "Vader said he didn't sense any Force users on the ship but I saw you wielding that laser sword. So what are you? A privateer who took that off a dead Jedi? Maybe you could've helped us mop up the rest had you turned yourself in, but you've done more than enough damage at this point. I'm going to terminate you myself."

In that instant their radars were jammed and their comlinks screamed a deafening white noise. Qatar quickly deactivated his by reaching under the cockpit and pulling out the corresponding wire, Weston pulled out his blaster and gave the com-box one well-placed shot, while many of the other less-trained pilots scrambled in confusion.

Qatar had to admit to himself that the Officer's words cut deep. He pulled up and over in a vertical loop, hanging upside down over the convoy until spinning himself upright. He flew past Weston, Thrak and Nome, headed straight for the imperial shuttle that flew ominously towards them, its size and distinctive tri-winged design standing out among the numerous TIE-Interceptors that flew alongside it.

Qatar increased altitude, trying to peek beyond the daunting Executor that cast a shadow on an entire district of Coruscant. He could see that just beyond it was the Industrial District, or "The Works" as locals took to calling it. Its flat landscape would