Wars End
Spike tapped his foot on the deck of the bridge nervously as they sped through Hyperspace. Displayed on a small screen beside him was a display of the battle, the blue dots representing the Republic ships, while the red dots represented the Mandalorians. When battle was joined there had been far more on both sides.
“Would you stop?” Revan asked exasperatedly. “Honestly, you’re putting everyone on edge.”
“We’re heading for battle, they should be on edge,” Spike pointed out. “I don’t understand how you can stay so calm when hundreds, if not thousands of republic naval crew are dying in the void.”
“Because I know this is the end, Spike,” Revan shrugged. “This war ends today.”
“Yes, but we’ve still got to make sure it ends for the Mandalorians, not for us,” Spike snapped. “Having the Mandalore’s mask is fine but if we lose our fleet then we’re fucked. Ensign, you have the bridge. I’ll be in the hanger bay if anything goes wrong, and I want you to let me know when we’re five minutes out.”
“Ay, sir,” the ensign nodded.
It still felt weird for Spike to call someone who wasn’t Lowell, Ensign, but he paid it little heed as he walked off the bridge, heading down towards the hanger bay. The battle with the Mandalore’s fleet had been brief, but it had also been costly. Three of the eleven battleships that they had brought with them had been destroyed, burnt from prow to stern, as had some of the escorts, but the Mandalorian had come off worse, most of their fleet had been destroyed or routed, most importantly the captured interdictor ship that was keeping them there, allowing them to continue on again.
Katara had fought well during the battle by all reports, leading from the front as Spike had taught her, and he felt it was high time he met her and brought her up to speed on what happened inside the Mandalore’s ship, just like she would bring him up to speed with what happened outside it.
“Master,” Katara smiled, looking over to him from her fighter, patting the nose fondly as she walked away from it. “Congratulations on stopping the Mandalore. His death will help end this war.”
“I hope so,” Spike nodded with a smile of his own. “How did the fight go in the void? I hope it was better than some of my early flights.”
“From what you told me about Empress Teta, master, it would hard to be worse,” Katara smirked. “We did well, I’m fairly sure that our bombers destroyed one of their cruisers that was trying to get a shot on Harmony without hitting the Mandalore’s ship, and I know one of the pilots from the Resolute shot down a Mandalorian fighter ace.”
“That’s good, I’ll have to find out who he was and ensure he gets the proper laurels,” Spike nodded, placing a hand on Katara’s shoulder. “How are you though? Fighting in the void is heavier than fighting on the ground, or at least that’s what I’ve found.”
“Maybe that has something to do with the fact that you’ve tasted the void?” Katara asked.
“Yeah, I remember, it was bloody cold,” Spike shivered at the memory. “I’m glad you didn’t have to find out about that. I just wanted to check you were ok, but I’ll let you get back to your squadron. Make yourself ready, the fighting over Malachor is still going strong, and every ship down to the fighters is going to be needed.”
Katara bowed deeply, before turning back towards her fighter, the other pilots left in the hanger gathering around it to speak in hushed tones. Spike knew how closely pilots liked to keep their secrets and their conversations, and he respected that privacy, turning to walk out of the hanger once more.
We’re approaching the system edge, five minutes to Malachor, look sharp people.
Spike had broken into a run before the announcement had even finished. It didn’t take him long to reach the bridge, skidding to a halt beside Revan as alarms began to blare, calling the crew to action. Spike’s face was contorted into a mixture between a snarl and a look of intense concentration, before Revan put his hand on Spike’s shoulder.
“When we get into the battle we need to stay at long range.”
“These ships aren’t built for long range combat,” Spike shook his head. “They have a few missiles between the lot of them. We need to get right down their throat.”
“Spike…”
Revan stopped talking as the ship suddenly dropped from Hyperspace, allowing Spike a clear view of the battle raging above Malachor V. Wrecks and burning ships littered the space above the planet, while the battered Republic and Mandalorian fleets fought tooth and nail between them, sometimes being so badly damaged that it was difficult to tell which ships were operational and which ones had been destroyed.
At the centre sat the Ravager, the pride of the Republics fleet, and even that was suffering, taking punishing broadsides from two Mandalorian capital ships. It’s shields were holding, but only just, and Spike could tell that they wouldn’t last much longer.
“All ships, all ahead full, we need to take some of the pressure off our brothers,” Spike ordered, opening up his comm channel to the rest of the Fireshot Fleet. “Form up around the Ravager, keep the flagship safe.”
“Negative on that order,” Revan shook his head, his voice carrying across the comms. “We will provide long range covering fire, but we will stay away from the planet. That is a direct order.”
“Revan, what the hell are you doing?” Spike snapped, turning to face the smaller Jedi. “You brought my fleet along so we could help win this battle and put an end to this fucking war, not to sit here and watch.”
“I have my reasons, Spike,” Revan snapped back. “I have command here, and you will do as I say.”
“I will not stand idly by while men and women of the Republic are slaughtered. I won’t,” Spike growled, grabbing hold of Revans arm, the sleeve of his cloak moving up slightly, allowing Spike’s claw to touch his exposed flesh.
Spike gasped as he felt his mind connect to Revans for just an instant, like it had on Cathar, only this time it felt colder and even more foreboding. Now, as was the case all those years ago on Cathar, Spike had the odd sensation of no longer being in his body, staring out at the battle before him as a formless being of the force.
For a moment, Spike was confused, the battle looking exactly how it had from aboard Harmony, before he let out a gasp as his eyes shifted from the clashing fleets to the planet below. Huge cracks began to form in its surface, a sickly green glow beginning to shine through as the planet seemed to begin to collapse in on itself. The ships in orbit were not unaffected either, suddenly being pulled off course towards the rapidly compacting planet, beginning to get caught in its gravitational pull.
In an instant, the fleets, both Republic and Mandalorian began to fall, crashing towards the planet along with the hulks of dead ships that had occupied the space with them. Hundreds of vessels impacted at the same time, firestorms raging across the world.
Spike was suddenly back in his own head again, falling backwards as his senses were overloaded by the sudden information overlord.
“General,” one of the bridge crew called out, but Spike was too shocked to see who, instead staring up at Revan.
“What…what have you done, Revan?” his voice was barely a whisper.
“What did you see, Spike?” Revan asked cautiously.
“I said what have you done?!” Spike roared, leaping to his feet.
“Won the war,” Revan replied simply.
Spike stared at Revan for a split second, before pushing him aside hard enough to send him toppling to the floor and heading for the hanger once more. Spike slammed into walls as he ran, not wanting to waste a seconds time slowing down before he had to, leaving great dents in the walls before he burst into the hanger.
This is Supreme General Revan. All orders given by General Spike are hereby countermanded, by my authority. The hanger is to be locked down and the fleet is to remain at long range. Nothing goes near the battle. Give it up Spike.
“You can’t do this, Revan!” Spike roared, running towards one of the shuttles, gesturing for any soldiers in his path to move. “Harmony, override the hanger lock down, captain’s code S-P-4432, security code I-A-N-H-47.”
Maintain lockdown. Supreme override code GH-J-U-gPq-6864.
Spike watched in despair as the lights across the hanger faded, the clamps securing the fighters, shuttles and pods closing and locking. It would take too long to free any of them, and that was assuming that none of the soldiers intervened.
Looking around in desperation, Spike finally caught sight of his Basalisk. The droid was likewise secured, but unlike the clamps on the rest of the ships, these weren’t connected to Harmony’s mainframe.
Bounding across the hanger, Spike leapt on top of the droid, quickly keying in the activation droid, and smiling as it roared into life.
“Master, what’s going on?” Katara asked, running towards Spike as he began to rise off the deck.
“Stay here,” Spike ordered, his voice a low growl, before the droid shot forward, and he was carried out into space.
The cold hit him like a fist, Spike letting out a wordless cry as all sound suddenly disappeared in the void. The battle was going on before him, and yet it was eerily silent, just like it had been decades ago when he had first been spaced. That time he had been frozen in a matter of moments, made almost completely immobile and helpless in seconds, but he was far older than he was back then, and he was more machine than flesh.
Warning lights were flashing across his vision, and he could already see the first few bits of ice beginning to form on the tips of his fingers, but he ignored them, pushing the droid to the max as he shot towards Ravager, leaving the rest of the Fireshot Fleet behind him.
As he got closer, he had to work harder to avoid incoming fire, his Basalisk droid making him a target for Republic guns, while Mandalorians who got too close realised that he wasn’t one of them. More than once he was sure he was about to be killed, a heavy laser streaking past his head, or a missile soaring silently beneath him, but every time something got too close, the force guided his hands, throwing him out of the way, and allowing him to approach the Republic flagship.
Barely slowing, Spike shot through the shields of the hanger, sound returning in an instant as he roared, forcing the Basalisk to crash into the floor as he leapt off.
“Don’t move,” a soldier shouted, Spike finding himself surrounded by the hanger security.
“My name is Jedi Master Spike,” Spike raised his voice so the hanger could hear him. “General in the Republic Army, and by that authority I demand to see the commander of this vessel.”
“It’s a Mandalorian trick,” one of the soldiers muttered, before Spike rounded on him, Elusive flying into his hands, the blade coming to life in an instant, extending along his forearms in a defensive grip.
“If I was Mandalorian, I would have tried to kill you,” he snarled. “Take me to your commander. Lieutenant.”
“S-Sergeant, take the general to the bridge, General Surik will be there.”
“Meetra’s in charge?” Spike gasped. “We have to hurry.”
The sergeant nodded, setting off at a run, Spike hot on his heels. Spike still didn’t know what he had seen, or how far in the future his vision had been, but it had definitely been this battle, which meant he couldn’t afford to waste even a single second. The only ship in the fleet that could issue general orders over an open comm channel was this one, and even if it meant saving the Mandalorians, Spike would not let the Republic fleet be destroyed today.
“Meetra!” Spike roared as he burst onto the long bridge, running down the central walkway towards the viewing gallery at the end where Meetra silently stood.
She slowly turned around as he approached, allowing Spike to see the look on her face, and it was in that instant he knew it was not just Revan’s plan that was in motion here.
“Spike, I was told to expect you and your fleet hours ago,” she murmured softly, turning back to face the window.
“There’s no time to go into why I wasn’t here, you’ve got to tell me what’s going on, right now,” Spike demanded.
“We’re fighting, that is all,” Meetra replied simply.
“Don’t give me that bantha shit,” Spike snapped. “I saw a vision, death on a scale I haven’t seen for a long time. Tell me what is happening!”
Meetra sighed, looking around the bridge at her crew, before finally looking directly at Spike.
“The planet has been being prepared for two weeks. All in preparation for now. There is a weapon down there, one beyond anything you have ever seen, we call the Mass Shadow Generator. With it, we will end this war and the threat of the Mandalorians forever.”
“You’re going to kill hundreds of Republic soldiers as well!” Spike roared.
“We’ll kill thousands,” Meetra admitted softly.
“I can’t let you do that, Meetra,” Spike growled, igniting his Lightsabers once more. “There has got to be another way.”
“There isn’t,” Meetra shook her head, before igniting her own Lightsaber and diving at Spike.
Spike was caught off guard for a moment, expecting that he would have been the one to start the attack, and he was forced back across the bridge, fending off a flurry of attacks, before finally forcing her to stop, hammering a few of his own attacks out in return.
Spike tried everything he could, falling back on every lesson he had ever learnt of Lightsaber combat, as well as the practical experiences he had with fighting sword wielding opponents, even as Meetra parried his blows, seemingly with ease, her near mastery of Makashi shining through, making even Spike’s superior strength mean little.
“This is pointless, Spike,” Meetra grunted as he bore down on her with a particularly powerful blow, before responding with a thrust of her own, narrowly avoiding slicing through Spikes chest. “This will end the war, it is worth a thousand lives.”
“No it’s not!” Spike roared spinning and driving a foot into Meetra’s chest, pulling the blow slightly so it simply knocked her back instead of shattering her ribs. “We are supposed to protect the Republic…”
“We are protecting the Republic,” Meetra leapt forward once more, fluidly changing styles as she switched from the elegant blade work of Makashi to the raw cuts of Shii-Cho. “The whole of it. We can end the war.”
“Not like this!” Spike bellowed, diving forward, slamming a fist into Meetra’s Lightsaber, his scales warping slightly from the blade and the pressure he was putting on them, before Meetra deactivated her weapon and stepped aside.
Caught up in the moment, Spike hadn’t seen the move coming, and staggered forward, put off balance by the sudden lack of resistance, and allowing Meetra to get in behind him, delivering a swift serious of kicks to his back, sending him crashing to the floor.
Spike let out a grunt as he turned over and got back to his feet, glaring at Meetra as she panted, before glancing at one of the technicians. Spike looked to, and instantly recognised the man, pulling up everything he had on Bao-Dur.
“Is everything in place?” Meetra asked.
“It is, general,” Bao-Dur nodded.
“Bao-Dur, don’t do this,” Spike looked pointedly at the Zabrak. “it’s not too late to stop now.”
“General?” Bao-Dur looked at Meetra, who simply shook her head.
“You once said war is a terrible thing!” Spike shouted, pleading with Bao-Dur. “And it is, but this will be worse. Don’t do it!”
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, turning to his computer station.
“Nooooo!” Spike bellowed, diving forward, but it was already too late, Bao-Dur pressing the final button on his computer screen.
Spike twisted in mid-air, landing awkwardly on his side as he clutched his head. There was a rumbling within, feeling as if it was trying to claw its way out, driving all other thoughts from his mind, save for that. Meetra was also similarly indisposed, a hand on her head as she swayed ominously, reaching out for anything that could help to steady her.
Spike groaned as the rumbling turned into a roar, forcing himself to crawl forward, meter by meter until her reached the viewport, hauling himself up and steadying himself against the glass, looking out at the battle beyond. Just like in his vision, the planet seemed to be coming apart, the ships in orbit being drawn down towards it as whatever the Mass Shadow Drive did began to work.
Then the roar turned into a scream.
Spike dropped to the floor once again, writhing in pain as the screaming intensified. It wasn’t a physical scream, although his own voice and Meetra’s did join with it, it was a scream through the force, the scream of hundreds of Jedi, and thousands of men and women as they were drawn to the ominous surface of Malachor V.
More screams ripped themselves from Spikes throat as the force scream seemed to reach a crescendo, and for a moment he thought he was going to join with the force as well, before suddenly everything went silent.
Spike tried to push himself up, but the memory of the force scream made his arms weak, and his bionics were not responding properly. He could already feel himself getting short of breath as his two bionic lungs fluctuated, putting strain on his one remaining organic one, but he still forced himself to look towards Meetra. If he had been so badly affected, he had no doubt that she would be too.
But Meetra wasn’t lying on the floor like he was, she wasn’t even clutching her head or looking like she was in pain. All she was doing was standing there, a blank look on her face as she watched the destruction rain down upon Malachor. There was something unnerving about her now, like there was something missing from her, like she had somehow become far less than she had been mere moments before.
Then she went limp, collapsing to the deck of the ship like a puppet who had had all of its strings cut. Groaning in pain, Spike crawled towards her, his one organic arm dragging the rest of his body forward, until he was beside Meetra, allowing his head to lay near hers, straining his ears for the simple sound of her breathing.
He heard it. It was weak and shallow, but it was there. She was just unconscious, and Spike saw no reason not to join her, falling to blackness beside her on the deck of the Ravager
Stats
Page generated in 0.039 seconds
Total duration
900 users online
1,855,998 hits today, 2,707,512 yesterday
FIMFiction
My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic Fanfiction
Designed and coded by knighty & Xaquseg - © 2011-2024
Follow & Support Us
Support us
SubStar
Chat!
Discord
Follow us
Twitter
MLP: Friendship is Magic® - © 2024 Hasbro Inc.®
Fimfiction is in no way affiliated with or endorsed by Hasbro Inc.®
If I'm recalling my lore right, isn't Meetra The Exile?
6470679
Yep
Revan.... a hero and a criminal... he did what would take all the jedi working together to do with but one weapon...
Funny Ive been playing Kotor 2 recently witht the restored content mod.
6470891
What does that mod add?
6470913 Shite that was cut in the game's production and added back into. It's a must-use for anyone who plays it on PC.
6471057
Hmmm, will have to try and re-download the game and get the mod then
6471061 If you have it on steam you can get the mod via workshop.
Well shit; Malachor was just as bad as I thought. Spike is so lucky though, it looks like he didn't emerge from it as a wound like Meetra or Nihilus. Now, there's a very small cool off period (Probably amounted to a month or two, given that Revan and Malak had to visit Dromund Kaas, get their troops ready, etc.), and then comes the real Clusterfuck.
“Ay, sir,” the ensign nodded.
It’s shields were holding
The planet has been
beingprepared for two weeks1. Shouldn't it be Aye?
2. Its.
3. Umm... Probably extra Being here.
6471057 How have I only heard of this? Gotta go back and find it then...
6470913 I havent finished this run yet but from what I have played so fa it fixes bugs and cut dialogue and characters. On the really big size it restores the HK-50 plotline and the factory asociated with it, an entire planet that was cutoff and the Master Vash endgame confrontation with Go-T0. For a semi complete list go here.
I was honestly expecting spike to get sucked down to Malachor V, survive, and then go on to become a crazed Storm Dragon.
6472549 As I said, if you've got the game on steam, then the game now has steam workshop, so you can just sub to the mod from there. It is easier than manually downloading it from the nexus.
6473521 I don't, which is why I need to download it. Oh well, next time.
..... whoa.....
Foolish Jedi, you have unknowingly unleashed hell upon the galaxy. You have unleashed your own demise you foolish beings.
img3.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20071122021511/starwars/images/9/97/KOTOR2Nihilus.jpg
The calm is ended, and the True Sith's return has begun.
Hail the Immortal, galaxy-for-dinner-guy!
I get the feeling that Spike would not be okay with nuking japan.
And my planning has led to this atrocity that no one can walk away from... save one: Meetra Surik.