“Captain on the bridge!” A man roared, and instantly the men on the bridge stopped what they were doing, turning and saluting Spike as he walked onto the bridge.
“At ease.” He said simply, sitting down in the command chair and looking around lazily.
They had been on or above Karlp for the past week, interviewing suspects and even collaring a few smugglers, but it hadn’t really been the most interesting thing that they could do. As he had suggested to the council, the deficit in exports was thanks to both smugglers and a corrupt official. One of the overseers of the cargo docks had been providing amnesty and back door entrances to certain bits of cargo in exchange for a cut of the profits. It hadn’t exactly been hard to find out about it. A bit of poking around, a stake out to catch the perpetrators in the act. Case closed.
In short, a complete waste of time.
Well, that may have not been entirely fair. While poking around the docks, Spike had talked with some of the freighter pilots, and discovered that what was going missing in the docks was only a fraction of the whole. Ships seemed to be going missing on their way to their destinations, and while they had little in common, different cargos, different sized ships, they all had to pass through the same sector of space.
“What’s our heading sir?” a man, the commanding officer of the Republic troops, asked from his seat near the nose of the frigate.
“The pilots said something about the Sujimis system. I’m not sure what we’ll find, but we might as well check it out.” Spike replied.
“Sujimis system locked into the navi-computer.” A man called. “Preparing to jump to hyperspace on your mark.”
“Mark.” Spike said lazily, and watched as the stars stretched and the craft leaped forward.
“Sir, I know it’s not my place, but will you allow me to ask a question about our mission?” The commander asked.
“You can ask Ken. You may not get an answer, but you can ask.” Spike said tiredly.
“Some of the men, myself included, have been wondering why we’ve been put on this mission.” He replied.
“You want to know why we’re not fighting the Sith?” Spike chuckled. “I do as well, but the council gave me pretty explicit orders that we were to just investigate the planet.”
“But…aren’t we’ve finished investigating the planet.” Ken pointed out.
“The council doesn’t need to know that.” Spike grinned.
“Aye sir. Know what sorry?”
“There you go.” Spike nodded, getting up from command seat. “Ken, you have the bridge.”
With that, Spike turned and walked off the bridge. He trusted Ken to keep the ship on course, meaning Spike could go and see an old friend.
***
“I want the air intake checked on my number two engine. It was struggling to stay cool in high G turns. And make sure the damn newbies check their fuel and missile levels before and after missions. Keeping missiles in a fighter all the times is just asking for trouble.” Loas called out across the hanger, looking at a trio of maintenance droids.
“We expecting trouble Loas?” A pilot called, sticking his head out from underneath his fighter.
“Have you seen the Jedi in charge?” Loas called back. “Spike practically looks for trouble, or at least is a magnet for it.”
“You’ve served with him before haven’t you?” The pilot asked.
“Orvax IV and Empress Teta.” Loas nodded. “Nice to find a Jedi who I can out fly.”
“Experience can beat the force.” Spike muttered as he walked into the room, just loud enough for Loas to hear.
“Way I hear it, the force is supposed to trump everything.” Loas grinned.
“Most, not all.” Spike corrected. “How are your pilots?”
“Meh, most of them are ok. Almost all of them are greener than your scales though.” Loas sighed, looking around.
The fighter contingent that Spike had been assigned was not large, but it was enough for the missions they would be doing. If Loas had had his way, they would have been made up of his old squadron, but apparently the Republic needed experienced pilots at the moment, meaning he had to make do with a bunch of new pilots and lick them into shape.
“Where are we headed anyway? Back to Coruscant?” Loas asked.
“No. We’re heading for the Sujimis system. I want you ready to fly search and rescue missions when we get there.”
“Trouble?”
“Could be. Just be ready, it’s only a short jump.” Spike said, before turning and heading back out of the room.
***
Two Days Later
***
“Two days up and down this system and we haven’t found anything. How long are we planning on staying here?” The Helmsman asked.
“Somewhere between ten and fifteen ships have gone missing here in the last month. Something’s happened to them.” Spike pointed out.
“Pirates or Slavers.” The Helmsman replied. “Either way, if that’s what happened we won’t find anything here. Prizes and wrecks will be towed away or crashed into the planet to hide them.”
“Yeah, and Loas didn’t find anything on the planet.” Spike agreed. “You may be right. One more day, then we pack it up, ok?”
“Loas to Valiant. Spike, requesting permission to scan the asteroid belt.” Came the voice of Loas over the bridge speakers.
“Any particular reason?” Spike asked back.
“One of my men thinks he saw something metallic in the belt. I can’t see it, but it could be worth checking.” He replied.
“Go on then. Avoid crashing please, you may be a bit of an arse, but you’re a useful one.” Spike smiled.
“Damn straight.” Loas laughed, before cutting the transmission.
“Think it’s anything?” Spike asked.
“Possibly. If a ship got caught in the rock belt then whoever’s been operating around here could have missed it.” One of the bridge crew reasoned.
“Well, maybe we’ll hit a break.” Spike sighed. “I want something to show the council.”
“Loas to Valiant. Looks like we found something.” Came the voice of Loas again.
“Define something.” Spike asked.
“Looks like a scrap of plate metal. Large, could be a piece of ship armour.” Loas replied.
“Any way of knowing what ship it’s from?” Spike asked.
“Tricky.” Loas muttered. “Looks like there’s half a symbol on the other side. A few letters to. Give me a sec, I’ll transmit a picture to you.”
“Display it on the screen please.” Spike ordered.
“Bringing it up now.” The man said, pressing a few buttons and bringing the picture up on the viewport at the front of the cockpit.
The picture showed a large piece of metal, support struts sticking out of it from where it had been ripped off whatever it had been attached to before. It was pitted with holes and scorched by what Spike assumed to be laser fire.
“Can we zoom in on the symbol in the corner there please?” Spike asked.
Instantly, the image moved, zooming in on the small symbol and scattered letters that were just barely visible on the blacked armour. It was red, from what Spike could make out, a U and an M being visible, as well as half of a third letter.
“Bring up the manifest of all the ships that have gone missing here, as well as their company symbols and names. Tell me one of them’s a match.” Spike ordered.
“Alright…there.” One of the bridge crew said triumphantly. “The symbol is a match to U.M.E.C. Large company, specialises in droids, combat and utility. Staring to move into the civilian sector.”
“Don’t give me their entire MO, just tell me how many ships they’ve lost here.” Spike muttered.
“Umm…just one. The Alero, went missing seven days ago, all hands reported missing with it.”
“Loas?” Spike called out.
“Here Spike.” Came the voice of the pilot.
“Finish your sweep and then get back here. I don’t like this.” Spike ordered.
“Fine. Give me what, five…hold on. Valiant, check your long range scanners please. I’m picking up a disturbance.”
“Do it.” Spike said quickly, placing a hand on his head as he scrunched his face up in concentration.
“Sir?”
“Do it now!” Spike bellowed.
“We have multiple contacts exiting hyperspace!” A man shouted.
“Plot us a course out of here!” Spike shouted, before grabbing hold of a microphone. “All hands, battle stations! Raise the shields and prepare to hold off enemy contacts until we can jump to hyperspace!”
“Sir, we won’t be able to jump until we clear the mass shadow of the planet.” The Helmsman said, staying surprisingly calm.
“Six ships on long range scanners.” Another man said, pressing a few buttons on his computer bank.
“Loas? Eyes on?” Spike asked.
“Just about…mother fuc…” The radio cut out.
“Loas? Loas?!” Spike shouted.
“They’re still there.” A man pointed out on his screen.
“Get us around there now. I want to pick them up and leave five minutes ago.” Spike ordered, leaning forward in his command chair. “Ship status?”
“Shields charging at 94% capacity. Weapons batteries one through seven are ready and waiting, eight, nine and ten are still loading.” A man called out.
“Do we at least know what sort of enemy we’re looking at here?” Spike asked.
“Two signatures match that of a Mandalorian Kyramud-type battleship. Remaining four signatures are unknown.” A bridge crewmember called out.
“We’re about to find out.” Spike called, watching as the last few asteroids slipped past the view point. “All hands, prepare for battle.”
The scene that unfurled in front of Spike was nothing short of terrifying. Six massive warships were all moving slowly through space directly towards where the Valiant was approaching from. Whoever had said that there were only two battleships had been wrong in almost every way possible, as four were now arrayed against the one small frigate, backed by two destroyers, both of which were still larger than the frigate. As Spike watched, he saw small pockets of fire erupting within the fleet as Loas led his fighters in a desperate attempt to draw some of the attention away from the Valiant.
“Ok, here’s the plan.” Spike said quickly. “We’re faster, but we can’t fight them. We’ll get through their lines and run.”
“I’m not sure that we’ll be able to do that.” The helmsman called.
“I don’t care, just get this ship firing!” Spike bellowed. “Loas?!”
“Qzzzcchhh…on tail…lost four…protect…qzzccch.” Came the crackled reply.
“Why are we not firing?!” Spike yelled.
“Guns one through five discharging now. Direct hits on the stern of the starboard battleship, their shields are holding. Guns six through ten firing, two hits on portside battleship. No damage.” A crew member called.
“Brace for return fire!” A crew member called as a flurry of shots arced towards the Valiant.
The entire ship rocked as the shots impacted, nearly throwing Spike from his chair. The shields flared brightly, but somehow, mercifully, they held. As repair crews scrambled to repair the damage done to the frigate, several bombers emerged from the hanger bays of one of the battleships, speeding through the void towards the small ship.
“Hold on!” Spike yelled, bracing for an impact. None came.
Six fighters swooped over the frigate, firing their own weapons at the incoming bombers, ripping the formation to shreds and forcing the bombers to scatter to present less of a target to the few fighters now in their midst.
“Looks like we got here just in time!” Loas called over the comlink.
“Save it!” Spike growled. “You, get me firing on that destroyers main cannon!”
“Sir! Two missile tubes locked and ready, should we fire?” A man called over the radio.
“Give ‘em hell.”
As Spike confirmed the order, he looked out of the view screen again. The spread of missiles sped through the vacuum, trailing fire as they arced towards the closest destroyer, impacting on the shields a second after another volley of turbo laser fire slammed into them. Most of the missiles impacted harmlessly against the particle shields, but suddenly, with a massive flare, the shields popped before fading, allowing a pair of missiles to arc in just before they raised again, smashing into the super-structure of the ship. An explosion blossomed within the shields, the atmosphere within the shields allowing the flames to rage. As more explosions racked the ship, the cannons that they had aimed at erupted in a cloud of sparks.
Spike grinned in triumph, but it was short lived as the other ships prepared to fire again.
“EVASIVE ACTIONS!” Spike bellowed.
The helmsman threw the ship to the left, avoiding the worst of the fire directed against it, but not all, a flurry of shots slamming into the failing shields.
“Shields at six percent! Fire on decks three and one!”
“Evacuate them and get the crew to help the shield repairs!” Spike ordered. “Loas! You can’t do anything here, get the hell out! Fire again!”
Shots lanced out of the frigate, followed swiftly by a large cluster of missiles. However, it seemed like the luck they had been enjoying up till now failed, the ray shields of the enemy easily absorbing the shots while the particle shields dealt with the missiles.
“I’m not leaving Spike!” Loas shouted back, as an explosion was heard over comm.
“How many left!?” Spike roared.
“Me.” Loas grunted.
“Get the fuck out of here!” Spike roared.
“No can do. Loas, over and out.” Came the reply from the cocky pilot. He sounded remarkable calm.
As Spike watched, a fighter, shrouded in flames, sped towards the injured destroyer from before. The particle shields were already damaged from the missiles that had got through, and this was a much bigger object. The shields flared as small fighter missiles slammed into them, before the ship itself ploughed into the hanger bay of the destroyer.
“LOAS!” Spike screamed, but it was too late. Far too late.
A huge explosion ripped through the remaining hangers as the fuel held within ignited, amplifying the explosions tenfold. The ship groaned as its hulls twisted and buckled, before finally giving in. The explosions that were rippling along it blossomed outwards, the force being held in by the shields as they flared back into life for one final time, before the whole ship was engulfed in flames, before they were extinguished by the void as the shields failed. One ship down. This really wasn’t that consoling however, as there were still five other ships bearing down on the wounded frigate.
“Shields down! Main fire control centre is offline! Targeting array is gone!”
“Somebody get me firing on that Destroyer!” Spike roared.
“Firing? Firing what?! We lost the targeting array!” A man screamed back.
“I don’t care if you have to open the air lock and throw scrap at it, get firing!” Spike ordered
The ships engines roared in protest as two shots slammed into them, and Spike suddenly realised that whoever was in charge wasn’t even trying anymore, they were just toying with them. With their firepower, they could have destroyed the frigate in no time, but instead they had decided to have some fun. Well, at least it gave them a chance. A small chance, but a chance. Warning lights flashed on the bridge as the secondary engine died.
“Missile tube one ready!”
“One missile?! Fuck it, fire!”
The ship roared in protest as the strain of the missile firing shuddered through the weakening armour, but it held together as the projectile sped through space. The missile arced towards the ship, but before it could even get close, a flurry of shots lashed out at it, the missile exploding in a tiny puff of plasma.
The deck shuddered violently, pitching Spike sideways in his seat with enough force to send him sprawling out of his chair and across the deck as the rest of the crew experienced similar fates. From somewhere towards the aft of the ship, the groaning of buckling steel echoed through the ships hulls, along with the soft thumps that Spike recognised as the sound of chambers venting atmosphere into space. Red lights flared throughout the ship as a klaxon began sounding.
The ship began to list lazily towards the asteroid belt as it finally lost power, and was unable to resist gravity’s influence any longer. Inside the ship, Spike suddenly found himself having to hold onto the floor as he began to float upwards, the ships gravity generator failing as well.
“Status?” Spike coughed, pulling himself closer to his seat and floating in front of it.
“Primary and secondary engines offline. Hull breach on decks one through four, all sections open to the void. Emergency bulkheads sealed.”
“Crew?”
“Eighty three percent are not responding, most reported lost when the hull was breeched.”
“Escape pods now.” Spike conceded.
“Only two are…” A man began.
“Missile incoming!” Another man screamed suddenly, pointing at the view screen.
Spike watched as a missile sped towards them, spiralling in on a chaotically gyrating trajectory as it got closer.
“GO GO GO!” Spike screamed, but it was too late.
The missile slammed into the view screen, detonating as it hit the thick glass and filling the bridge with flames and razor sharp shards of glass. Spike barely had time to scream as the fire rolled over him, immolating the remaining crew, before he was pulled out into space as the atmosphere was forcibly vented.
Spike found himself looking out across the battle as he desperately flailed his arms in a futile attempt to stop himself from spinning away from his wrecked ship, but it was useless. Slowly, his arms and legs stopped responding to the impulses sent from his brain as the freezing emptiness of space numbed his limbs and froze him solid, a little voice in his head desperately shouting something but Spike couldn’t make it out. Funny, he thought he’d be dead by now.
Spike found himself unable to look away as a destroyer disgorged fighters towards the burning hulk that was the Valiant, the single man ships making a bee line that would cause them to cross his path directly. In fact, Spike found himself unable to do anything, locked as a passenger in his own body as he span helplessly in the dark void of space.