Spike didn’t know exactly how the battle was going as he sped through the Sith lines. Any commlink he could have worn while onboard the Harmony would have been useless at his new size, and it was difficult for him to open his tiny pocket dimension at this size, so storing one in there was impossible as well. That was why Lowell and Seugtai, and even Herank, oversaw their own pieces. They would command where Spike could not, while Spike did what he did best, ripped apart his enemy, and inspired others to follow.
Flapping his wings, pushing magic into them to allow him to ‘fly’ even in the vacuum of space, Spike twisted mid-flight in a move that would have torn a ship in two, and taking the fighter following after him completely by surprise, although Spike was sure he was already surprised by the fact he was chasing a literal dragon through space.
The pilot tried to dodge but Spike was not a static ship, and his claw shot out, grabbing one of the wings of the fighter and crushing in to so much metal before releasing it, sending it spinning into the distance before it exploded in a silent fire ball that died as quickly as it was born.
Diverting his attention back to his initial target, Spike pulled his body out of the way as a turbolaser volley targeted him, twisting around the shots with ease, his magic helping to predict their paths for him, and his scales deflecting those that did hit him at shallow angles, Spike thanking whatever was out there that these were only light cannons, he did not relish the idea of finding out how he’d stand up to a heavy shot. Before the ship could fire another volley, Spike was on it, all four talons grabbing hold and tearing huge holes into the hull across multiple decks, his head level with the bridge.
For a moment he looked inside, the tiny figures inside desperately giving orders to their subordinates, before Spike opened his mouth, a green jet of fire engulfing the structure. Dragon fire was not like normal fire, it required nothing but magic to burn, and Spike was full of that. The bridge held for a scant few seconds before the metal turned to slag, those inside being incinerated before the void could even touch them.
Without its helm, the ship listed lifelessly, men spiralling away from it as they were sucked from the holes Spike had made. Some were still twisting in defiance, their fully sealed armour keeping them alive for as long as their internal air tanks remained full, but that would not be long, and they would soon suffocate inside their own armour. One or two were already scrabbling at their neck seals, trying to pull their helmets off to end it all quickly, rather than agonizingly slowly over hours as the fight clearly swung further and further away from a Sith victory.
Looking around, Spike saw two Sith ships remaining, Seugtai already racing for one at the head of a bomber wing that had formed up around him, expertly piloting the ‘Basilisk’ that Spike had liberated from the Mandalorians all those years ago. He was born for that saddle, and Spike was glad that he had given his old enemy and newfound friend such a deadly war machine to bring death to the Sith.
Spike knew with the surety of a seasoned warrior that the bomber wing was more than capable of taking out both ships in short order, and already he saw the rest of the fleet knew it to. Ships were breaking from the battle line and larger drop ships were already heading for the surface, skirting the outer limits of the battle as both enemy ships finally succumbed. The battle in the void was over, the battle on the ground however would be quite another thing.
The Sith fleet had been outnumbered, but they had outgunned Spikes fleet, and that had cost them dearly, Spike had lost more ships than the Sith fleet had, and he knew it would be the same story on the ground. They couldn’t even just bombard the installation, they needed the armouries and ammunition stored there. Only through a ground assault would they be able to get the resources they so desperately needed.
With a powerful beat of his wings, Spike shot towards the planet, forming up beside one of the largest drop ships as they pushed through the atmosphere. As they did, Spike felt his scales heating up, flames licking at him as he entered the atmosphere. Any other creature would have burnt up in the hellish boundary between the void and the worlds sky, even lesser ships had been destroyed attempting this, but for a dragon, fire was never a threat, heat was his ally, and the flames did nothing to stop his descent that quickly turned into a controlled fall as he finally passed out of the vacuum of space.
Wrapping his wings around himself, Spike plummeted towards the base far below him. This world had no cloud cover, and Spike could already pick out the faintest outline of the massive facility. He had been here once before when it was still in Republic hands, and he knew its strengths and weaknesses. For a conventional force attacking it, they would have no choice but to land on the outskirts and fight their way through rings of security all the way to the armouries buried deep underground, and with their only entrance right in the middle of the compound. Spike however had another plan.
Streaking through the air, Spike angled himself like a rocket, channelling his magic around him into a shield, growing thicker and thicker with every passing second, protecting him from anything the enemy could throw at him. The turbolasers were not his target however, and Spike slammed downwards, smashing into the roof of the facility like a missile, but without the potentially damaging explosion.
Throwing his shield outwards, Spike magnified the shockwave of his immense landing, directing it upwards at the ceiling and close by defence towers. In an instant, the heavily defended heart of the fortress had become a makeshift hanger, and those following behind Spike took the opportunity to land, men jumping out and rushing around Spikes talons, executing the wounded Sith soldiers with gleeful abandon.
Spike watched them fan out, quickly overwhelming the inner most ring of defences which had all been facing the other way, expecting an attack from outside, not within, taking command of them themselves. Spike was confident they would be able to hold for a while, but if the Sith managed to pull themselves together and launch a full-scale counter attack, they would break through, and this would fast become a massacre. He was useless at this size however and settled in to direct his magic inwards once more, forcing his body to return to its smaller size.
When he eventually did so the next wave of troops had already landed, bomber wings starting to attack parts of the facility that had no danger of damaging the supplies they had come to steal with far more precision than could be achieved from orbit. As the last of his magic faded away, Seugtai approached Spike, a Ripper in one hand, and his axe in the other.
“You do like to make an entrance, don’t you,” he laughed, watching with a cocked head as Spike tore into his pocket dimension, pulling his glaive free. “Handy trick that, you’d make a damn fine smuggler with that.”
“Well as long as I wasn’t smuggling anything larger than a particularly long stick, sure,” Spike shot back, twirling his weapon. “Come on, we need to crack the codes to the supply depot and deactivate the remaining turbolaser towers. I’m not risking the bulk transporters coming down with those still active.”
“Thought you’d say that, it’s why I arranged to have some friends meet us as our own little squad,” Seugtai threw a commlink to Spike, Spike screwing it into his ear as the first of these friends arrived.
Dropping in on tongues of fire from personal jetpacks, twenty neo-crusaders in the silver armour of shock troopers. Spike knew the armour well, some of the best warriors in the Mandalorian army had worn such armour during the war, and he instantly felt the urge to attack them. These were strange times however, and instead he turned on his heels and broke into a run, the Mandalorians quickly forming up behind him. If anyone had told Spike a few years ago that he would be leading Mandalorians not killing them, he would have laughed. Time made fools of everyone, and Spike was no different, he just had more time to be made the fool.
Cutting through bulkheads and sealed doors with plasma torches, they made quick progress into the complex’s command tower, any resistance they encountered was put down by single blaster bolts from the Mandalorians, and Spike found himself gaining a very begrudging respect for them. He had trained Republic Special Forces as best as he could, he thought they were the best of the best, but he never fought Shock Troopers en masse, and he was fast realising that they were simply a cut above anything the Republic had at their disposal, short of the Jedi themselves. Even defeat hadn’t dampened their skills, Seugtai’s words ringing true that most Mandalorian’s really didn’t care if they had won or lost.
In short order the group had reached the final door to the command room of the entire complex. From there they could shut down or activate defences, and they would be able to put the next step of their plan into action. Slicers were already making their way up behind them, but Spike knew the Sith wouldn’t give this room over quietly. This was made even clearer when they forced the door open, a flurry of blaster shots pitching one of the Mandalorian’s off his feet with a smoking hole in his chest and forcing the rest into cover.
“Come on!” Spike roared, spinning his glaive in a wide arc as he sprinted forward, dodging or deflecting blaster bolts aimed at him with precise bolts of magic. He hit the Sith line like a wrecking ball, his vibro-glaive cutting through their armour like it wasn’t there, although it was nowhere near a lightsabres power.
The Mandalorians were close behind, fanning out and taking up positions in the chaos, while Seugtai ran forwards with Spike, the old warrior fighting side by side with the massive dragon, his older bone coloured armour picking him out in the sea of shiny metal protective plate, but none could hit him, decades of practice made sure of that, even without the force or magic to guide him. Once again, Spike was stunned by his skill, remembering again why Mandalorian’s had always been deadly in the war, even to a Jedi.
Eventually the room was clear, two more of the Mandalorian’s falling, but Spike was assured they would rise again. The one who had fallen at the door was not so lucky, dying from his injuries before any could stop to help him. It was a blow, but one they could live with and had expected. With the Sith neutralised for now, the slicers began their work, quickly breaking down the firewalls of the Sith, who had yet to fully replace the old Republic system with one of their own. It was almost child’s play.
“You five, stay and watch over the slicers,” Spike ordered, indicating a group of the surviving Mandalorians, before stooping down and picking up one of the injured. “The rest of you with me, get the wounded and the dead down for extraction and then meet by the cargo lift. It’s time to crack this place open and be gone from here.”
“Not a moment to soon either,” Moonstone commented, appearing beside Spike, a few of the Mandalorian’s drawing guns at the sudden pony.
“Oh, settle down, it’s just magic, haven’t you ever seen it before,” Spike rolled his eyes, before turning and stalking down the stairs.
“We need to hurry, Spike,” Moonstone reiterated. “You know the Sith will already know about the attack, they’ll be organising a proper fleet to retake the world. We don’t have ships that can match their battleships.”
“You say like I don’t know it,” Spike didn’t break stride as he spoke. “We’re going as fast as we can, but we need everything stored here, we have to cut things as close as we can.”
“I just hope you know what you’re doing, Spike.”
“So do I, Moonstone. So do I,” Spike sighed, finally reaching the bottom of the tower once more and placing the wounded Mandalorian in a transport already full of wounded. “Have you sensed anything?”
“Nothing yet,” Moonstone shook her head. “But we’re hardly clairvoyant, now are we?”
“Then we best get a move on.”
As if on que, the lights turned from bright white to a dim yellow, alarms sounding as the central door in the floor began to grind open, being replaced with a huge cargo lift that would have supported Spike even at his larger size. With a snap of his talons, Spike ordered men onto the platform, taking his place as well, with Seugtai standing beside him.
“Take us down,” Spike called to no one in particular, the lift grinding into life in response.
They fell quickly and for what felt like an eternity, but eventually it did slow, finally stopping as lights flared into life, illuminating the huge warehouse that dominated the space beneath the massive complex. Even knowing what was down here, Spike could not stop himself from gasping in awe.
Weapons of every kind were arrayed before them, from blaster pistols and man portable cannons, right up to torpedoes and turbolaser capacitors. There was enough firepower here to level a planet, and Spike’s only regret now was they didn’t have anywhere near the fleet power to transport it all.
“Get to work!” he ordered loudly, the various members of what was now his army scurrying outwards, a few of them grabbing some of the smaller weapons for themselves as the spoils of war. “Focus on personal weapons and turbolaser parts, the fleet will need the enhancements and I don’t know what shit you’re all using for your own weapons.”
His orders given, Spike began to move as well, heading for a large hover-transporter that bore 4 large turbo-laser focusing lens. Flicking on the anti-grav generator, he quickly pushed the trolley to the lift, depositing it there while others did the same. Soon the lift was full, being sent up to the top, before being returned empty once more. Twice more they filled it and sent it up to the top, until Spike finally got the message he’d been waiting for.
“Spike, the fleet is full now, I would any more spoils, we’d men behind to take them,” Herank spoke over his comms, her voice seeming slimy even over this distance. “If I were you, I’d get everyone out of there and leave the system. If were you, of course.”
Spike fought back a snarl but nodded to himself.
“Alright everyone, onto the lift, anything you can’t carry yourself leave behind, we’re dusting off.”
Men and women quickly scrambled onto the lift, but Spike paused before he did, looking around the still very full warehouse. Almost as an afterthought he grabbed a box of detonation charges, setting the timers for one hour. The timers now clicking down, he threw the charges in different directions, before affixing a pair to a torpedo storage container. If the Sith got down here they may disarm some of them, but they would never find all of them, and the damage would hopefully make at least some of the stuff useless.
Hopping onto the lift just as it began to rise, Spike began to run through calculations in his head. It would take his forces at least twenty minutes to get into their ships and leave the complex in their entirety, add on to that another fifteen minutes to break orbit, and ten to get back to their ships in close orbit, and they wouldn’t be ready to even make for the systems jump point for closing on an hour. Time was fast becoming their enemy, and as Moonstone had pointed out, the Sith would be on their way.
As soon as the lift stopped everyone was running for their ships, Spike briefly pausing to look at the closing bulkhead door over the lift, debating fusing it closed, before shaking his head and clambering onboard a shuttle. It would take too long, and it would likely hamper any blast from underground anyway. Spike would just have to hope the Sith didn’t find the bombs quick enough.
The shuttle doors slid closed, plunging everyone into darkness as they lifted off. The ship shuddered horrendously in the atmosphere, clearly showing its age, but soon it stopped entirely, Spike feeling the artificial gravity plates kick in as they left the world.
This shuttle was bound for Harmony, and as soon as they touched down, Spike was out and already speaking into his comm.
“Lowell, as soon as the last shuttle is onboard prep the fleet for a jump, plot a twenty-point diversion before taking us to Fireshot, think this has been a success. I want us gone…”
Before he could reply, he felt his mind turn to ice, a spike of pain crashing into it, sending him crashing to the floor with a roar of agony. He felt what was causing this and he knew its source far before anything spoke to him.
My my, oh all the things I didn’t expect to be attacking our world, you were certainly at the bottom, Spike, came the unmistakable voice of Tarhal.
With a roar, Spike forced his mental barriers up, but Tarhal was already in his head, the Wookie had always been gifted at this sort of thing, and his powers had only grown since his fall. Meanwhile Spike was still learning how to cope with his magic, his force powers now all but extinguished.
“Lowell!” Spike managed through the pain. “Move the fleet, take us out of here!”
The pain was fast rising to unbearable levels, and Spike knew if he didn’t act soon Tarhal would kill him without them ever crossing blades again.
“Spike, your magic grows when you do,” Moonstone appeared, speaking hurriedly as Spike collapsed to his knees, clutching his head in both hands.
“Clear the deck!” Spike roared in response, not having to be told twice, instantly grasping her meaning.
Those still near Spike moved as if their life depended on it, which in all fairness it did as Spike staggered towards the hanger controls. All the shuttles and cargo had been secured already, or at least he hoped it had, and as the last man left the hanger, the door shutting behind him, Spike deactivated the hangers ray shields.
In an instant he was shot back into space, far more violently than before as far more atmosphere was shot outwards from the side of the ship. Harmony listed heavily at the sudden thrust to her side, and Spike knew that Lowell would be fighting to keep her on course even as she moved away from Spike, still accelerating.
Unable to see through the pain now, Spike focused everything he had on channelling his magic. It wouldn’t be painless, but his already raised mental barriers would give him a spurt of power. It was risky though, to drop them even for an instant would let Tarhal have free reign, but it was something Spike had to risk, and with a silent scream, he let go, his mind becoming vulnerable for the briefest of moments.
The transformation was agonising, far more so than usual as Spike felt every bone in his body pop and crack as the magic reshaped him. Far away on the Sith bridge, he could feel Tarhal roaring as he felt the pain himself. Then, just as suddenly as it had started, the roaring pain in his head stopped, his mental powers now magnified by his enhanced magic that was no longer forcing his body into an unnatural size.
Turning, Spike looked across the void at the oncoming Sith fleet. Already fighters were approaching at frightening speeds, and they had enough battleships to destroy Spike’s entire fleet without much trouble at all. Dozens of Interdictor Cruisers were clustered around the fearsome form of a Centurion Battlecruiser, all burning their engines to catch up to Spike’s fleeing forces.
For a moment, Spike debated ordering his forces to turn, to face the enemy head on and be done with it, but he knew it would have been suicidal, even if the crews of all the ships had been willing soldiers, not the galactic scum.
With a silent roar of rage, Spike turned and powered back towards the fleet. There wasn’t enough time to transform back, not with the Sith fleet closing the gap between them so rapidly, and Spike couldn’t risk jumping to hyperspace himself, as he had no way of coordinating his jumps yet, and so he did the only thing he could think of.
Carefully approaching the Harmony he grabbed hold, careful not to tear through any bulkheads as he latched on. The ship shuddered slightly, and Spike prayed that they wouldn’t abort the jump, but if there was anyone he trusted to be able to do this, it was Lowell, and quickly he was proved right, feeling the discomforting feeling of being stretched out as his front accelerated away from his rear at an impossible rate. The last thing he saw before he disappeared was a flash of light from the planet, as the detonation charges he set detonated, taking the weapons, the facility and the thrice damned Sith along with it.
Then it was gone, and all Spike could do was hold on for dear life and try not to slip away from the ship that was now carrying him.