Spike growled as he made his way through the temple, scattering anyone who was in his path as he aimlessly made his way to who knows where. He still couldn’t believe that after everything he had said, after presenting first-hand knowledge and information about the true threat that this new Mandalorian threat posed to the Republic, the council would still ignore him and attempt to stay neutral.
Looking down at his own body, Spike sighed. He supposed that he possibly hadn’t been in the best state to present his case, blood covered and all, but he had thought that if he could convince them they could strike quickly, and any delay would have only helped the Mandalorians. Now though, well, he supposed he should probably take a shower. With a new goal in mind, Spike made his way towards the accommodation blocks. Now more than ever, he wished that Tarhal or one of the others were there in the temple. They’d see his side, give him reassurance that he was in the right. He could bear the thought that he was wrong and the council was right. If that was the case, then no amount of time would justify Ranox.
Reaching the dorm rooms, Spike ignored the other two Jedi in the room, pushing past them as he made his way towards the back and the showers. Oddly enough, the Jedi didn’t seem quite as horrified at his appearance as the others had, more curious instead. Dismissing it as irrelevant, Spike hung his belt and Lightsabers on one of the hooks around the bathroom, before stepping into one of the shower cubicles, allowing the instantly hot water to rush over his scales.
Letting out a sigh of contentment, Spike felt his knees weaken slightly as the cleansing liquid washed away half a year of dirt and grime. Was there any surer sign of civilization then the ability to pour unending amounts of steamy fluid over one’s body? It actually surprised him how much he had missed the ability to be clean when Desolation was in charge.
Finally, after almost half an hour standing underneath the water jet, Spike turned off the shower, reluctantly activating the stream of hot air that quickly dried him, before stepping out of the shower cubicle and reaching for his Lightsaber belt, before looking round and catching sight of the two Jedi who had been in the room before, now joined by a third one. He could hear them conversing with each other in hushed whispers, but could only make out a few words.
“…blockade at Taris…”
“…flashpoint’s fallen…”
“…need to act…”
“…just returned from the Outer Rim…”
Spike listened while he strapped on his belt, looking away for a moment, before sensing that he was being scrutinised, and turned back around, locking eyes with the three Jedi, who were not intently staring at him.
“Can I help you?” He asked, stepping back into the dorm and walking over to the three Jedi, taking in their features properly.
The first one was standing in the middle of the group, and despite not being the tallest seemed to give off the biggest aura of presence, he was also the one who had arrived while Spike had been in the shower. He was a Human male with fair skin and brown eyes, his dark brown hair falling to rest on his shoulders. He had an odd series of marks on his face, four circles being dotted around it, connected by thin red lines.
Next was a tall male, although he was still small compared to Spike, and was possibly in his mid-twenties by the look of him. His head was a mess of black scraggy hair, and he wore a tight fitting set of red robes.
Finally, Spike looked at the female of the group, his eyes quickly darting over her features and storing the information away in his mind. Her hair was short, hardly being longer than the two males beside her, but what really struck Spike were her eyes, the bright orbs seeming to look deep into his own, judging him as much as he was judging her. He didn’t know why, but he felt that he would be able to trust this woman, although the thought was odd, and didn’t seem entirely his own.
“That all depends on you.” The man in the centre said, bowing slightly. “I doubt that I really need to ask this, but you are Jedi knight Spike, are you not?”
“I am.” Spike nodded.
“Did you really just have it out with the council?” The woman asked.
“News travels faster around the temple than I remember.” Spike muttered. “How do you know about that anyway?”
“I just came from the council chambers myself.” The first man elaborated. “They seemed…agitated, although they wouldn’t say what about.”
“Good, let them squirm.” Spike chuckled. “Who are you anyway?”
“My name is Revan.” The first man bowed, before looking back at Spike. “Jedi Knight.”
“Padawan Meetra Surik.” The female smiled
“Alek.” The final man said simply.
“Call him squint.” Revan chuckled, looking up at the big man.
“Why would I do that?” Spike asked in confusion.
“It’s a hilariously unfunny joke about my name.” Alek deadpanned.
“Alek…to squint?” Spike asked slowly, sure that he must have been missing something.
“That’s only his first name.” Revan pointed out.
“And your second?” Spike asked.
“Squinquargesimus.” Alek said with a slight chuckle.
“Squinguarges?” Spike asked, trying to get his tongue round the word.
“Squinquargesimus.” Alek repeated with ease.
“Squint or Alek then.” Spike nodded. “How did you get that name?”
“Home village.” Alek said simply.
“Don’t mind him.” Meetra smiled. “Quelii was sacked by the Mandalorians, not many escaped.”
“Thank you for that trip down memory lane Surik.” Alek snapped.
“Stop it you to.” Revan commanded, before looking back at Spike. “You just came back from the Outer Rim didn’t you? What did you see out there?”
“A whole lot of death and a big problem.” Spike responded.
“Precisely.” Revan nodded. “That was you in the Mandalorian ship wasn’t it, so you know what’s out there.”
“Better than most.” Spike nodded. “They have a new leader, and he’s dangerous, even without his army.”
“You know about the new Mandalore?” Alek asked in surprise. “No one seems to know anything about him.”
“Know him?” Spike scoffed. “He’s better with his axe than most Jedi are with their Lightsabers. More than that though, he’s got an army, not just crusaders like last time.”
“Last time?” Revan asked.
“You know, the last war. Ulic lead them here when they were little more than nomadic barbarians, and even then they were deadly. Now that they’ve organised themselves…”
“They are the true threat to the Republic.” Revan finished.
“Exactly.” Alek nodded. “The Sith threat ended what, 30 years ago? The Mandalorians are the threat now. The Mandalorians are here…almost. We need every able-bodied Jedi we can get.”
“You don’t need to tell me twice.” Spike grimaced. “But the council in its infinite ‘wisdom’, seems to think that we can afford to just wait around and react rather than act.” He took on a loft expression as he sat down. “Ah yes, the Mandalorian threat. We have dismissed that claim.”
“Precisely.” Revan agreed. “But what if there was another way?”
“Then I’d jump on that like Pinkie on a birthday cake.” Spike replied, drawing blank looks from the others. “Joke from home, helps keep the memories alive.”
“I hear that.” Alek nodded. “But like Revan said, there is another way, one the council can’t stop.”
“Go on.”
“The Republic military has a special arm that is used for volunteers that help out with both military and peace keeping actions.” Revan began.
“Yeah, the Mercy Corps.” Spike nodded. “What of it?”
“Well, the Jedi council has never denied a member of the order the right to join the Mercy Corps, I don’t actually think they can deny that right.”
“That sounds like a loophole waiting to be exploited.” Spike nodded, seeing what Revan was getting at.
“Exactly.” Meetra nodded. “Revan and Alek here have already spoken to some of the members of the order, and there are actually a lot of them that support the actions that he wants to take, the ones you want to take.”
“How many Jedi have actually said that they’re with you?” Spike asked, looking between the three Jedi.
“Enough to make a difference.” Revan replied.
“That doesn’t actually answer my question.” Spike pressed. “Are we talking fifty Padawans, or five hundred Jedi Knights?”
“At the moment we have over a hundred supporters, but not enough have any actual experience in warfare such as this. Even Alek and I do not have much more than Padawans like Meetra Surik.”
“So you have an inexperienced but eager force.” Spike summarised. “Knights and Padawans only? All relatively young?”
“The oldest member of our movement at the moment is thirty four. He’s a knight, but he’s never fought in a war either.” Revan replied.
“But you have.” Alek pressed. “You were in the Great Sith war, and you’ve even fought the Mandalore himself. Like Revan said, we have the will, but we lack experience and ability in many cases.”
“So what are you two then?” Spike asked, looking at Alek and Meetra. “I can see that Revan is in charge here, but where does that put you.”
“Alek is my friend, he was the first to join with me. Meetra is young, but she is powerful. You can sense it, can’t you?” Revan asked.
“She’s certainly different, I’ll give you that.” Spike chuckled. “Something about you Meetra, it’s odd.”
“Everyone says the same thing.” Meetra nodded.
So what happens next?” Spike asked.
“Like I said, that all depends on you.” Revan replied. “My Revanchists are poised to move on the front, Alek and I only came here in search of final recruits, and if you join, I will consider an otherwise useless mission a success.”
“When do you leave?”
“Three days. Enough time for our ships to be ready and my movement to converge together on Taris.”
“Taris is under a blockade at the moment isn’t it?” Spike asked.
“The Mandalorians can’t break the republic lines, but the Republic won’t attack any further.” Alek elaborated.
“Three days then?” Spike mused.
“Am I to take it that you’ll be joining us?” Revan asked.
“I was ready to take the fight to the Mandalorians on my own.” Spike chuckled. “If you’re going to do the same thing, I might as well do it with you. The council thinks that debates will save the Republic.”
“The council is wise Spike, but they are slow. They may have a plan, but by the time it comes to fruition, there will be no Republic to defend.” Alek agreed.
“I’ll see you again in three days.” Spike nodded, extending his hand towards Revan.
“Thank you Spike.” Revan said, grasping the proffered claw tightly. “With your experience, we may have a much better chance at recruiting more to our cause.”
“I’ll leave you to it.” Spike smiled, before walking out of the room.
He was much happier now, his step almost having a spring in it. He was no longer covered in blood, he wasn’t disillusioned with the entire Jedi order anymore, and he actually had some time before he was going to head out again. If he hadn’t spoken with Revan and the others, all he would have accomplished would have been getting pissed off, before going back to the front and probably being killed. Now though, he had a plan, and if Revan was correct, they could stop this war before it really started.
He didn’t quite know what to make of Revan, or the Surik for that matter. Alek was fairly easy to decipher, the man was a warrior much like Spike, and he wanted to help the Republic regardless of the Jedi way, much like Spike. On top of that, Alek was without doubt the most imposing human that Spike had ever seen, towering over both Revan and Meetra, and Spike doubted if there were any in the order, save for Tarhal and himself, that would be taller than the two meter human. Spike instantly respected the man, and even though he was unversed in the art of war, Spike could sense something within him that would change Spike’s view of him rapidly.
Revan and Surik on the other hand were harder to read.
Revan seemed unremarkable as a person, the sort that would be able to pass unnoticed through a crowd of people even if they knew him, but there was power beneath the unassuming surface, a keen intellect and an insatiable thirst for knowledge. Even though he had only known him for a brief period of time, Spike believed in Revan, and when he preached about saving the Republic, rather than just trying, Spike couldn’t help but honestly believe that he could do it.
Then there was Meetra. Despite her youth, Spike could already sense power beneath her surface, as well as the aura she gave out that convinced Spike that he could trust her even more than Revan. She seemed headstrong, generous and kind, and that was only in the first meeting. It was strange, but in a way, Spike felt like he had known Surik for longer than the other two, even though this was clearly not the case.
All three of the Jedi, although so young, were filled with hope, the sense of Right and Wrong that Spike still fought to protect. In their eyes, and in Spikes, the Mandalorians were evil, and the Republic was good, and all they could do as Jedi was to fight for the side of Good and the light.
Spike was roused from his thought as he approached a part of the temple that he always treated with a certain amount of anxiety and loathing, not for the people that worked there, but for what it represented. Whenever he arrived at this place, he was always hurt, near to death, visiting a friend who was hurt or near to death, or a combination of those outcomes. Nevertheless, he felt like there was something within calling to him, and he forged ahead into the halls of healing.
The walls seemed to echo with the rejuvenating energies that were employed by the Jedi here, and Spike found himself able to follow one of the lay-lines of energy that floated in-front of him in his mind’s eye, drawing it in before following it back to its source, pushing open a door slowly and peeking inside.
“That’s good.” The familiar voice of Franoline cooed, speaking to someone who was just out of Spikes line of sight from the doorway. “Now, are you feeling any discomfort at all? Any lingering pains from before?”
“None.” Came a gruff, but undoubtedly feminine voice.
“You seem to have responded to the implants well.” Franoline nodded, before looking towards the door. “Perhaps our ‘guest’ would like to offer an opinion?”
Sighing, Spike pushed the door open, looking over at the patient Franoline was dealing with, and feeling his jaw drop to the floor.
“Katara?” He asked in amazement, looking at the small girl.
Now that she wasn’t unconscious or covered in soot and ash, Spike finally got to have a better look at the last survivor of Thresh. Her hair, or rather lack thereof, seemed to only accentuate her angular features, showing off the shape of her face even more. When he had first rescued her, he distinctly remembered her with long brown hair, but he guessed that the fire had changed that. He briefly wondered if it would ever grow back, but decided it was unimportant, all that mattered was that she was alive.
“Spike?” She asked back, her voice defiantly sounding much more grating than before.
“Careful Katara.” Franoline warned. “You still need to get used to the implants, do not be too hard on them or you may need another round of surgery.”
The girl shuddered at the thought, but still looked at Spike, leaning back in the bed she was resting on.
“Where have you been?” She asked softly.
“Ranox.” Spike admitted. “We crashed there shortly after I left you. I feared that…that you had been killed or captured when the planet fell.”
“There was a Republic ship in the area on route to pick up the members of the 59th.” Franoline chimed in. “They managed to stop by at Ranox before you arrived again and brought her back here.”
“So what’s going on?” Spike asked, looking between the two.
“I’ve been drafted into the order.” Katara smiled weakly.
“That’s great.” Spike beamed.
“I…know.” She coughed violently, her entire body shaking as it was wracked by the hacking cough.
“Calm down Katara.” Franoline said, moving over and adjusting an IV drip that was attached to her arm. “I believe that is enough for now, Spike will still be here when you awake.”
As the girl began to drift off to sleep, Spike found himself unable to meet her gaze. He wanted to be here for her, he felt like he owed her that much, but he also had another mission, one with Revan that would ensure that what happened to her wouldn’t happen to anyone else.
“So, what happened to her?” Spike asked as Katara finally succumbed to the sedatives.
“Well, when the Republic first reached her, she was stable but comatose.” Franoline said. “She didn’t stir until she got back to the temple when the council drew some blood. She has an average Midi-chlorian count, and so was treated here, rather than in a Republic facility.”
“What’s the damage?”
“Extreme smoke and fire damage across her body, but mostly her internals, mostly throat and lungs. The hair follicles on her head have also been burnt off, and we don’t know if they will ever properly regrow. More than that though, her lungs were next to destroyed, and we had to replace them. It was touch and go for a while, but she’s in the recovery stage now, and is readjusting to the bionic replacements well.”
“Two new lungs?” Spike asked. “I’m guessing that’s why her voice is so…”
“Different? Yes and no.” Franoline replied. “Her voice box was also affected, and while it was not completely replaced, we did have to preform minor surgery to place implants within it to allow her to talk.”
“So when will she be up and about?”
“Four to five days, possibly a week with complications. Then she’ll begin training. Non-physical at the beginning obviously, but soon she’ll be able to learn the ways of the Jedi properly.”
“I’m not going to be here when that happens.” Spike said glumly. “Look after her for me Franoline.”
“A mission already?” She asked in astonishment. “You would have thought the council could at least let you rest up for a bit.”
“Yeah, they can be annoying sometimes.” Spike nodded, not telling her that the council had nothing to do with this. “Just promise me that you’ll make sure she’s ok.”
“That’s my job Spike, fixing people after they get hurt. You know that as well as anyone.” She smiled.
“Let’s hope she’s not in here for things like that.” Spike grinned back, before turning and leaving the room. Now he was thinking, he had one more stop he wanted to make before finally turning in for some much needed rest.
Heading back towards the docking bays, Spike approached the guard who had initially welcomed him to Coruscant when he had returned, and had also clearly moved the ship Spike had landed in to who knows where.
“Excuse me.” Spike said, tapping the man on the shoulder and causing him to turn around.
“Ah, master Jedi.” He nodded. “I am sorry for my, unprofessional, attitude earlier.”
“Don’t be.” Spike reassured him. “I wasn’t exactly in the best mood either.”
“I assume you came here looking for your ship?” The man asked.
“I did.” Spike nodded.
“We had it removed and placed in the dry docks as you requested.” The man informed him. “I can show you where if you would like?”
“Just get me the coordinates and I’ll find my own way there.”
“Right away sir.”
***
Spike stood on the observation platform of one of the many orbiting stations that hung above Coruscant. It had taken him a few days to get clearance to come up here from the Republic military, but considering the fact for a non-Jedi the clearance would have been impossible or at least very long winded, he wasn’t exactly going to complain.
The window in front of him was dominated by a large birth, the ship inside covered in scaffolding as droids and EVA suited dockworkers scurried over the superstructure, replacing damaged plates and checking over the other parts of the ship that had been damaged, mostly internally. Spike was actually impressed at how quick the Republic was at getting the ship fixed up again, considering the fact that it was of enemy design and had only been brought in a few days ago.
“She’s a beauty isn’t she?” A man asked, walking up beside Spike. “Apparently some Jedi brought her in a few days ago, some new Mandalorian design or something.”
“Yeah, she looks good.” Spike agreed. “Desolation has better taste than I gave him credit for.”
“Desolation?” The man asked, looking at Spike. “Is…is this yours?”
“Well, depends on your definition of ownership.” Spike said with a slight chuckle. “Is it mine in the way that I stole it, brought it back here and now it’s being fixed up for me, then yes. Is it mine is the fact that it was built for someone else though, then no.”
“Ah, that makes sense as to who you are then.” The dockworker mumbled.
“So what can you tell me about the ship? I didn’t really have time to look it over when I brought it in.”
“Certainly, let me just pull up the manifest.” The man said, drawing out a datapad and fiddling with a few of the controls.
“Ok, armament, twelve heavy laser cannons arranged with one dorsal gun, one ventral gun, five starboard guns and five portside guns, backed up by a point defence anti-fighter or anti-missile system and a single tractor beam emitter located in the prow of the ship. The bridge is located at the front obviously and the ship can be operated by one person, but is more efficient with either a central droid brain, or in this case, a crew of seventy to eighty.”
“Propulsion?”
“Three main fusion drives and a class 1.0 Hyperdrive. This thing is fast.” The man said quickly, before putting the datapad away. “It was also covered in blood. Do I want to know why?”
“No you don’t.” Spike said firmly. “Just fix it up and remove that god awful symbol from it, then return it to the temples hanger bays. I have permission to store it there.”
“Of course sir. It should be ready in a few days.”
“I’m leaving today.” Spike pointed out.
“It will be ready by the time you come back then.” He smiled. “This is only because you’re a Jedi you realise. If you want any more work done on it, then it will cost you.”
“I understand.” Spike nodded. “Does the ship have a name?”
“The computer called it the Crusader, but we had to tear that thing out and replace it, so at the moment no.”
“You said it was fast didn’t you?” Spike confirmed.
“Faster than our corvettes, and better armed for taking on small ships.” The man nodded.
“I have a few ideas.” Spike smiled, before turning and heading for the shuttle that had brought him to the dry dock.
It would take him thirty minutes by shuttle to reach the Auran Jump station on the other side of the system, and from there he would be able to link up with Revan, Alek, Meetra and any other Revanchists that were on Coruscant, before finally heading back out to the Outer Rim. It was almost time to take the fight back to the Mandalorians, and Spike could already feel Desolation stirring in his mind.
Spike had a sneaky feeing that before this war was over, Desolation was going to get a lot more chances to stretch his legs.