Chapter 33
What am I doing? Caloc asked himself as he stood on the bridge of the Reborn, alone. Telle had left the command post and was running through the corridors towards the hanger. He was watching her move through the cruiser on one of the many security screens in the room. "Come on Lieutenant, hurry up."
He gripped the axillary steering yoke tightly, waiting. The yoke was designed for emergencies like this one, where a single person was left to operate the entire ship. Twitching it slightly, he felt the ship slowly swing to port. He watched to the screen as Telle stumbled below him, clinging to the wall for support. Another barrage hit the cruiser's hull, tearing through the metal. He watched as the lieutenant finally entered the hanger below and climbed into his green Delta-7. Reaching out with the Force, he focussed on the console on the far wall. Several switches flicked down and Caloc watched as the gun emplacements on the port and starboard rotated towards the other fleet and targeted the massive blue-marked Venator. He slammed the massive red button on the console, and a volley of blue laser beams stretched out towards Trench's flagship. Quickly, he stole another glance at the huge security monitor again. His angular starfighter had left the hanger, and he grinned. Pushing the throttle forward, the heavily damaged Acclamator shuddered and pushed forward, heading straight towards the enemy flagship.
"What is that Lieutenant up too?", Trench clicked, running his hand through his hairy mandibles. He was studying the pattern of the battle on the massive holotable, but had noticed an anomaly in the Republic Fleet. The massive Acclamator cruiser was moving quickly towards his lovely new, beautifully painted, Venator, christened the Resurgent. Most of his focus had been on the Republic flagship, the Liberty, and he had all but ignored the heavily damaged support carrier. Trench stroked his mandibles, long talons scratching the fur framing his mouth. He had watched two of the enemy cruisers be destroyed within minutes of exciting hyperspace. He had tasked the Lucrehulk's to fire on the Support Carriers while he and the reinforcements from the Corporate Guild attacked the flagship. The Republic fleet had, predictably, called for help, and the call had been answered. But their reinforcements had been laughable. Instead of another fleet of cruisers, a small group of twelve starfighters, obsolete ships used during the Hutt Wars, had come to help. He had pulled up the schematic for the Gladbron-78 starfighter. Dual ion engines pushed the fighter forwards at incredible speeds, and wide, long wings held rotating heavy cannons. The curved nose allowed for air and heat to curve away from the fighter, making it highly manoeuvrable. Two pilots sat in the fighter, one who flew and the other who targeted with the guns. The ships may have been fast, agile and heavily armed, but they lacked deflector shields. A single hit overloaded the circuitry and blew the ships into scrap parts. Already, seven of the Gladbron's had been overwhelmed by Trench's Vulture droids. He clicked his teeth together. The reinforcements were destroyed. Not even the Jedi who led them had lasted long. Trench hadn't seen the agile triangular starfighter for some time, and had assumed that whoever was piloting it had perished. There was no need for the reinforcements waiting in the next system over. They were not needed.
He turned to the battle droid beside him, programmed as his personal captain. "This battle has already been won. Tell Wat Tambor to stand down. I have no need for his ships now. We will be triumphant in mere moments. We just need to show the Republic officers on that Venator. Prepare to fire on the Reborn on my order. Yularen will surrender once he sees he is alone!"
And with that, the Harch turned back to watch the Acclamator creep towards its doom.
Caloc watched as the Resurgent's turrets turned towards him. A barrage of red laser fire streaked towards him, hitting the ship's fuel storage. The massive tanks were located on the belly of the cruiser, and Caloc felt the ship shudder violently beneath him. "Well, that's not good.", He groaned. The ship was going to combust and break apart. He had about three seconds until the flames reached the bridge or sent an electrical surge through to the engines. Either of those possibilities would blow the ship to pieces. Reaching into the satchel on his back, he grabbed the helmet he had acquired from Xelton. Slipping it over his head, he activated the inbuilt air tank and checked the gauge. Half a tank of pressurised air left. Should be enough for the stunt he had to pull off. He pulled his lightsabre from his belt, gripping it tightly. The explosions ripping through the hull could be heard from on the other side of the bridge's door. He jumped forwards, igniting his blue blade and slashing at the thick glass of the bridge's canopy. Twisting in mid-air, he pointed his feet straight at the cut. The flames exploded the door behind him, sending fire gushing through the bridge, melting the metal and sending sparks across the consoles. The room exploded as Caloc burst through the thick glass.
To Lieutenant Lawell, safely in the dark green Delta-7, the exploding cruiser was an horrific sight. She had spent the past six months getting used to the Reborn, and felt that it was a part of her. Part of her legacy as the youngest commander in the Navy. As fire erupted from the hull, fed only by the ships escaping oxygen supply, she fiddled with the starfighter's steering toggle, trying to manoeuvre back her ship. But that Jedi had been shrewd. The boy had programmed the droid to take command of the ship, and so the astromech, tucked into his hole in the wing, was piloting straight for her father's flagship. She shook her head in admonishment. Here she was feeling horrible about her cruiser being destroyed, and the Jedi that had saved her life had gone down with it. She lowered her head to the steering column, ashamed of her emotions. But what Telle didn't see was the tiny, orange dot as it sped away from the flaming wreckage.
Caloc sped through the cold vacuum surrounding him, arms tucked tightly beside his body and legs together. Streamlined, he twisted towards the enemy flagship, the massive monstrous Venator leading Admiral Trench's fleet. A chill covered his arms and he looked down to see ice forming across his torso, freezing the unprotected parts of his body. He was lucky that he had brought thick gloves in his satchel. However, he hadn't brought a bodyglove, the thick thermal suits used by naval marines to store their body heat in the event of a hull breach. Without it, Caloc's blood was slowly beginning to freeze in his veins. It was scientifically called hydrothermia, an extremely painful process and nearby irreversible condition. The freezing would eventually reach his heart, stopping the flow of blood completely, and he would die. His eyes narrowed as his target got closer and realised that he was going to miss the Venator entirely. The blood was starting to freeze in his arms, hindering his movements. He had to be quick. Pain searing through his system, he stretched behind his belt with his left hand, grabbing the cable launcher clipped to the leather. A standard part of the Jedi arsenal, the tightly-wound cable was contained inside a small hand-held cylinder and could launch a hooked projectile at targets at incredible speeds. The hook trailed the cable behind it, fired by pressurised air stored inside the device. Caloc brought his hand up to his face, clenching the launcher tightly. Although his hand and part of his lower forearm were fine, the fact that he couldn't feel his entire upper body was a problem. He only had a minute until he froze up entirely. A minute to fire and a split-second to hit the precise target. His thumb hovered over the button as he waited… waited… then slammed his thumb down and fired. The cable shot out towards the canopy on the Venator's flaming portside bridge, the line trailing along with Caloc's hopes for survival. The hook smashed through the glass, breaching the port control hub. But he continued to slide through the vacuum, passing the bridge. Moving quickly, he secured the line around his waist. The cable tightened suddenly with a resounding twang, reaching its full length, and he swung with its momentum, heading straight toward the powerful engines at the ships rear. Igniting the sabre in his right hand, he slashed down on the engine casing, carving through the metal. A cold burst of ion fusion burst from the cut, not much, but just enough to push the ship slightly to starboard. The metal warped as the heat escaped, before a series of cracks appeared in the metal. With a small explosion, the engine broke apart from the cruiser. The blue energy expelling from the engine dimmed, then spluttered. He smiled and pressed his commlink, wincing at the pain it caused.
"Antilles, can you hear me?"
"Yes, Boss. I'm reading you loud and clear.", Mark's voice came over the link, though it was wrought with exhaustion.
"What's our status?", Caloc asked.
Mark's reply was worse than expected, "We've lost a lot of good men. Three more ships are heavily damaged and need to land soon. We have managed to sneak your mines onto every cruiser as instructed. Shall I detonate them, or do you want me to put one on the flagship too?"
Caloc shook his head, "I do. But don't just slap it on the hull like the others. I need you to drop a mine in the hole I made for you. The portside engine. A hit there will shut down the entire ship and blow up the reactor. You'll need to do it in the next thirty seconds before the bridge realises the engine is gone."
The comm crackled with gleeful laughter, and Caloc recognised Trauman Nekar, an older Twi'lek pilot, "Understood, Boss. You had better get out of there though."
Clicking off the commlink, the young padawan turned and began running down the length of the ship, using the weightless of space to propel him along. Slipping behind the turrets and dodging the laser fire from droids, he eventually reached the edge of the portside 'wing'. Stopping, he knelt and glanced at the oxygen gauge. Ten percent left. He could feel the frozen blood was making its way into his legs. Groaning, he grabbed the cable launcher again and flicked it free from its hold in the cruiser's bridge. The rope twisted and twirled as it retracted back to the launcher. A Vulture droid buzzed past, and he punched the launcher's button again. Once more, the cable streaked across the inky emptiness, snagging onto the 'wing' of one of the passing droid fighters. He clicked the button again and felt himself get wrenched away from the hull as the tether was reeled in. The hydrothermia had almost dominated his system. It slowed his movements. He twisted lazily on the cord and looked back at the Venator, watching as one of the Gladbron-78 buzzed behind the ship. A tiny reflection showed the MANE (Magnetically Attracted Negron Explosive) disappear into the engine of the Resurgent.
"Mine has been planted.", the commlink squawked.
"Everyone back off.", Mark ordered, "I'm pressing the detonator now."
The massive explosion that followed blinded everyone who saw it. Fire erupted from the engines first, taking out the massive dual bridges and the fuel supply. The explosions climbed up the fuel and electrical lines next, tearing through the hull until finally, they reached the bridge. Fire, fed from the ship's own oxygen supply, crackled against the hull. Within seconds, the Venator was a flaming pile of wreckage floating in space. Around it, the other cruisers cracked and exploded into colourful displays. Within minutes, the enemy fleet was wreckage.
Then finally, as the freezing blood reached his fingertips and the cable slipped from his grasp, a cold blackness covered Caloc, and his heart stopped.