The Heart of the Galaxy: A Star Wars Story (with Legends)

Chapter 31 - Duty, Honor and the Right

"We are still listing, sir," Chui'lan stepped to Nek's side. "We are functioning at 12% of our capacity. One more hit and we will be dead in space."

"Thank you, Chui'lan." Nek consulted his datapad. His remaining defenders had taken serious damage as well. The Mandalorians and Lasats had evened their odds, but even so they were still outnumbered nearly five to one.

Nek turned to the viewport. To conserve power, all magnifiers and enhancement panes had been deactivated. He was relying solely on his datapad, wireless computer and trusty first mate for information.

According to all three sources, his forces were still outnumbered five to one, despite having destroyed hundreds of small fighters and dozens of larger vessels. Something was wrong. He had missed something, somewhere. Shortly after the Hera had brought the Mandalorians and Lasats, the enemy's numbers had apparently been smaller, according to his data.

Nek scrolled through the data on his pad and a disturbing pattern soon became evident. Agati's numbers dwindled, then increased. Then they increased again. He raised his eyes to the transparisteel viewport once again and his gaze fell on one particularly large, well-armored transport. A cold prickle ruffled the fur on the back of his neck. He recalled his Uncle's grumbled jest as they had battled Agati's commandos. Was that a transport or a factory?

Staring out at a vast swath of space littered only with the remains of his ships, he realized the truth. The vessel he saw was both a transport and a factory, recycling the remains of damaged or demolished droid fighters and turning out new ones. And they had not been able to penetrate its shields even once.

"Chui'lan, we must destroy that transport. Designation DT-311."

The first mate cocked his head. "Certainly, sir. As you say."

"It's a factory. Turning the remains of ships into fresh fighters."

Chui'lan blinked. "That would give them quite an advantage, sir."

"I need you to hold the gateway until I return."

"Sir?"

"The bridge is yours, Fionn. May the Force be with you." Nek tucked his datapad into his belt and hurried towards the nearest door. If his calculations were correct, the mobile factory would soon be pouring out another batch of droid ships. There was little time.

Reaching the first hangar bay, he donned a flight suit and climbed into his personal fighter the Warrior. It was a small, unassuming ship, at first glance similar to an x-wing. But a Bothan Skean was packed with far more surprises: seven powerful lasers, an assortment of proton torpedoes, a projectile thrower and, most importantly for his purposes, a compact but powerful tractor beam.

"SK-101, prepared for exit," he spoke into his comm.

"Admiral!" An alarmed voice replied. "Sir, you can't go out there. We can't risk losing you!"

"Would you prefer to risk my censure?" Nek returned coolly.

"No, sir. My apologies, sir. You are cleared for departure," the ensign stammered. "Please be careful, sir."

Nek smiled grimly and accelerated through the portal. In the void, he flicked his scanner on. He would have one chance. Gliding out from the limited protection of the Rampant, he guided his fighter to a nearby melee. His men were acting on his orders, destroying the S-fighters with practiced efficiency.

Now he needed them to leave one intact.

As he neared the battle area, he saw what he had subconsciously noticed all day. Fragments of droid vessels and even some of his own ships drifted slowly away from the fight. At least, they appeared to be drifting. In actuality, the rebuilding ship was dragging them in with a wide, slow moving tractor beam.

Nek's alarm screeched a warning. An S-fighter had assessed him and found him a worthy target. Idly, he wondered if the droid's programming had recognized his rank or if it was merely responding to his ship's enhanced capabilities.

He angled away and down, giving himself more room to work. The droid followed with its single-minded focus on killing its enemy. He slowed, allowing it to close.

Then he struck.

The Warrior's powerful tractor beam grasped and immobilized the S-fighter. He drew it closer, firing a stun blast to render it helpless. He had plans for this monstrous killing machine.

With his prize secured, Nek accelerated towards the relative safety of his flagship. Activating his magnetic clamp, he landed on the Rampant's underside and began giving orders to his astromech. The S-droid's inner workings were unlike anything had ever seen but, thanks to his cousins' data and schematics, he was able to make slow, steady progress. At last, he had the droid under his control.

Activating it, he released it from his tractor beam. He guided it through the raging space battle, then let it drift to keep up the ruse. From all outward appearances, the S-fighter was dead in space.

Something tugged on the ship, pulling it slowly but inexorably towards the rebuilding ship. Nek let it go. The droid ship had taken the bait.

Hera peered out the Ghost's viewport. "Kanan would have loved this place," she whispered, more to herself than Alexsandr.

"I guess that's why Ezra saw him here," Alexsandr agreed. "We'd better get busy if we're going to stop Agati."

Behind them, Saba hissed her readiness, thumping her massive tail on the floor. Hera opened a comm channel to the other ships.

"Let's hit back of Agati's formation, try to pick off as many droids as we can. Are you ready?"

"Ready and waiting," replied Din. "We'll form up on the Ghost."

"Let's go already," Zeb yelled.

Hera waited briefly as the fighters gathered around her in a loose, staggered formation. Saba and Alexsandr took up their stations in the gun turrets. Hera opened the comm channel once more.

"May the Force be with us."

Hovering in the clear sky of Kyber, Namah watched the main body of his fleet sweep in for the final attack on the weakened Jedi. He could see them far below, kneeling in a group, probably trying to call on the power of the kyber. They could try all they liked. Their efforts would be too little, too late. Their deaths would shake the Force and he would take the opportunity to bend the crystal to his will. The plan was nearing completion. Soon, the Galaxy would be his.