You guys are crazy! And by crazy, I mean crazy awesome! I dropped this story yesterday and I already have eight story follows, seven favorites, and two reviews. YESTERDAY! You guys are awesome, keep doing what you're doing, thanks for all the support, enjoy!
CHAPTER 3
Planet: NONE. System: NONE. Sector: Lothal Sector. Location: Rebel Quasar-Class Carrier; empty space.
The team strolled down the corridor. Calrand was angry. Well, more angry than usual. He stomped down the corridor with a fury. Rex had invoked Calrand's wrath. The Ghost crew followed at a distance. When Calrand reached the door, he literally punched the controls. He stormed in; the crew tailing him from a good three feet away, and scanned the room. In it, there was Commander Jun Sato, Captain Rex, and five other high-ranking officers. His gaze locked on Rex.
"You!" he began heading towards Rex, "Why didn't you tell me!? You knew he was there! I know you did! Why!?"
"Easy Calrand," said Kanan, "There's a reasonable explanation for all of this. Isn't there Rex?"
I bet there is, he always has an excuse for everything, thought Calrand.
"Yes," replied Rex. "If you'll just let me explain."
Calrand stopped six paces away from Rex. He folded his arms. Calrand could feel the unease in the room.
"Let's hear it."
"All right. I thought that if you knew that he was there, it would turn from a capture mission to a revenge mission. Am I far off?"
"No," Calrand grudgingly replied. "But what about the droids?"
"Droids?"
"Kelax was the only living being on that ship. A full droid crew occupied it. Supers, Destroyers, even Vultures."
"Really? We had no idea about that."
"That's intel for ya."
"You got a point there. Well, let's get on with this debriefing."
Calrand was on his way back to Daune Aden, alone, when the Quasar suddenly and violently shook, knocking him to the ground. His head hit the wall and he sat fighting unconsciousness when the Ghost crew ran by. They stopped when they reached him. His eye's where half open, his breathing shallow.
"Karabast," said Zeb.
Calrand groaned.
"Zeb?" he muttered. "Help me up."
The crew did as he asked. Zeb slung Calrand's arm over his shoulder.
"I think I have a concussion."
He proceeded to pass out.
"We have to get him to the infirmary," declared Kanan.
Zeb slung Calrand entirely over his shoulder, then they rushed down the corridor. They arrived at the infirmary. Calrand's breathing was almost nonexistent. Kanan hit the door control. The room was chaos. The three med droids were rushing around the room, overwhelmed by the number of wounded. Injuries ranged from bad cuts to missing limbs. One man, engineer by the looks of him, was missing everything from his mid-thighs down. Another was missing his left arm and the left half of his body was scorched. The Ghost crew stood in shock for a moment, then rushed to the nearest free bed. Zeb laid Calrand down and went to fetch a droid.
Calrand awoke to a nightmare. He had no idea where he was; all he knew was that it was on fire. He lay on a bed in the med bay, his helmet at the foot of the bed. The air was hot and smelt of burning meat of some sort. He looked around. He saw hell. Calrand sat in the med bay, a fire raged in the opposite side on the room. In had engulfed five of the fifteen beds. A man lay on the floor. He appeared to be missing most of his legs. He was crawling away from the fire; it had caught the bottom of his tunic. Calrand leaped up to help him. He dragged him to the other side of the room and put out his tunic. He looked back at the flames. On the bed at the edge of the fire sat a man, well, the remainder of a man. His skin was mostly burnt away; his rib cage was visible. There were skeletons visible in the other four beds. Calrand fought nausea; every breath was sickening, now that he knew what he smelled. He shook his head and went to open the door. It jammed part way. He pried it open. The lighting was dim, wires hung from the ceiling.
What happened here? Where is here!?
He thought hard. It all came rushing back to him. Rex; asking him to do an attack and retrieve mission. Meeting the Ghost crew. An annoying mando girl named Sabine. The Frigate. Kelax. Hitting his head, all of it. He ran back into the med bay. An explosion jolted the ship; Calrand stumbled and fell. He struggled to right himself, though he eventually stood up. He went to the man in the corner. He lifted him up over his shoulder. He set the man down outside in the corridor and rushed back in. He surveyed the room. He saw three people, two men and a woman, worth saving; the others would die on the hour without immediate medical help. The fire was closing fast. He slung the two men, who were closest to the fire, over his shoulders and carried them out. He went back for the woman. He paused in front of her bed. Her injuries were worse than he had assumed. Not life threatening, but worrying. Her monitor was still active. It said she had severe spinal damage. That made moving her a challenge. He didn't want to worsen the injury. He looked around the room. He saw a stretcher in the corner. He ran towards it. It was repulsor aided.
"Yes!" He cried
He flicked the switch. It hovered. He rushed it over to the woman. He carefully picked her up and laid her on the stretcher. He rushed out, just as the fire reached with her bed. He pushed the door closed to contain the fire. Calrand began moving the survivors down the corridor, away from the fire. The legless man looked up.
"Thank you," he rasped.
"I've never left a man behind, and I'm not gonna start now."
Calrand set them up in some one's personal quarters and went in search of a fire extinguisher. He found two; one was two thirds empty. He ran back to the med bay. He pried open the door and was greeted by a raging fire. The smoke stung his eyes. It had engulfed most of the room. Calrand was worried that he wouldn't be able to snuff it out. He let loose with the extinguisher. The fire surged back. The first extinguisher went out. The fire began reclaiming ground. Calrand threw the spent extinguisher aside and began spraying with the other. The fire cringed back. Calrand spotted the source, a blown power conduit. He did his best to clear a path. His lungs felt as if they were on fire. He reached the conduit. It was beyond repair. He racked his brains for a solution.
The sprinkler system!
Calrand located the emergency control panel. He began clearing a path. The extinguisher gave out. Calrand began to get panicky.
Get a hold of yourself, he thought.
He was out of ideas. Well, he had one. He took a couple steps back, pointed himself toward the panel, and ran. He felt the fire engulf him. He slowed. The heat was sickening. He felt the flames lick his face. He sped up, beginning to get dizzy. He reached the panel. He smashed open the glass cover, and hit the fire control button. The overhead sprinklers began spraying flame retardant; the fire sizzled into nothingness. Calrand collapsed in a fit of coughing. The corners of his vision began blackening. He grappled with unconsciousness. This time he won. Calrand looked around. The room was blackened and burnt. He stood up and looked down at himself. He was a mess. His Kama was charred. His armor was missing paint in places, mostly the legs. He noticed his helmet lying on the ground where a bed once was. He picked it up. It was hot to the touch. He looked inside, expecting the worst. The bottom was coated in some sort of foam. He was confused. Then he remembered; he installed safety systems for just this occasion. If the helmet wasn't on his head and it detected fire, it sprayed heat resistant foam over the bottom of the helmet. It was better than a closing hatch that could be hacked or could malfunction and cut his head off. He unsheathed his knife and began cutting the foam away. It was a quick and relatively easy job, that is, with enough practice.
He clipped the helmet to his belt and walked out into the corridor. He had no idea what to do next.
Check on the survivors, that's what I'll do.
He walked down the corridor. He reached the room he left them in. He entered and looked around. The two men and the woman were still unconscious. The legless man had somehow got himself into a chair. He clutched in his hand a small holdout blaster.
"Whoa, what happened to you?" he asked.
"I put out the fire," replied Calrand.
He gestured to the hold out blaster, his face questioning.
"Oh, that's right, you don't know what happened," answered the man. "
"Well? What happened then?"
"Pirates."
"Pirates?"
"Pirates. They came out of nowhere. Defiantly cloaked. Thirty ships, seventeen battle cruisers, eight corvettes, five carriers.
"Pirates. Why didn't rest of the crew find us?"
"They probably think we're dead, or they're dead," replied the man.
"That's a cheery thought."
"Yeah."
What now? Thought Calrand.
Something thumped outside the door. Calrand peered around the frame. He heard whispers; they came from around a corner, to the right of the room. He checked himself for weapons. He had only his knife; he left his saber and his Verpine on the Daune A'den. Calrand drew his knife and crept to the corner. He gazed around the corridor. There were five pirates with weapons drawn. They had a member of the Ghost crew with them. Calrand struggled with his concussion, trying his best to remember the prisoner's name.
Ezra! It's Ezra!
Calrand didn't think, he just slammed his helmet on his head, charged around the corner, and began slashing. He leapt at the first pirate, stabbing through his eye. He lifted the flailing man and used him as a shield as the other pirates opened fire.
One down, four to go.
He threw the corpse at the pirate holding Ezra, and charged at the next pirate. He kicked his chest, throwing him to the wall. Calrand slashed the pirate's neck, spraying blood over his armor.
Two.
Calrand lurched at the next one, grabbing the pirate's DH-17 from his hand, and slammed his head against the wall with his elbow. He pressed the 17 to the pirate's temple and fired.
Three.
He turned to the last two pirates. He saw that Ezra was grappling with a pirate on the ground; the other pirate was taking aim. Calrand's arm shot up, aiming the 17 at the standing pirate. He fired, the pirates head snapping back violently as he collapsed to the floor.
Four.
Ezra managed to get his lightsaber from the pirate's belt. He ignited it and thrust it into the pirate's chest. The pirate flailed and died.
"Osik, you're too good at that," commented Calrand.
"Fierfek, am I glad to see you," Ezra replied. "Pirates overran the ship."
"Yeah, I got that."
"The rest of the crew is in the main hanger. I tried to make a run for it. Needless to say, I got captured. I thought you were dead, the bridge registered the med bay as destroyed."
"It pretty much is. The main conduit exploded, setting the room on fire; burning most of the injured. I managed to save four people and put out the fire."
"So that's why you look like you took a swim in fire."
"Yup. I'm gonna go back and secure the wounded, then we can go rescue the crew. You stay here"
"Yes sir!" Ezra said sarcastically, with an exaggerated salute.
Calrand smiled and shook his head, then walked down the corridor
Another day, another chapter. Lucky for you guys, I've been writing this story for a while now, and I have the first four chapters saved up. But, as this is the third, I'm reaching the end of my stock pile. When that happens, my posting will slow to about once a week. Maybe less. I'm not saying this in order to bum you out, just warning you to why my progress will slow. Taabir bat ner vode!