Spike slowly eased Harmony out of Hyperspace, emerging into high orbit above Eres III. As he had expected, a large force of Republic ships were already hovering around the planet, moving sluggishly through the endless vacuum of space. The fleet here was large, but it was not massive, and Spike was quickly able to identify the condition of almost all the ships in the fleet being less than average. They had clearly seen fighting in the recent days and weeks of the Mandalorian assault on the system, and it was beginning to show. Unless they could break the Mandalorian fleet here, they would eventually grind the Republic fleet to dust with sheer tenacity and numbers.
“Looks like they’ve taken one heck of a pounding,” Tarhal muttered, standing beside Spike as he looked out at the fleet.
“Yes, and we’ve got to stop the Mandalorians with this,” Spike sighed. “No matter, we’ll pull through Tarhal, we always do.”
Turning, Spike moved towards the holo-projector on the bridge, quickly inputting the Republic communication codes into it and waiting for a response. It didn’t take long for the surface of the table to shimmer, before being replaced by the image of an old man.
“Admiral Harman I presume?” Spike asked, looking at the man.
“Jedi Knight Spike?” The man asked, leaning forward in the projection to get a better look at Spike. “Not what I expected, but your presence here is welcome all the same. We’re being pounded hard, I don’t know how much more we can take. Tell me you brought reinforcements.”
“I brought two Jedi, one ship and there is a contingent of newly trained Special Forces on their way to reinforce the troops below,” Spike replied. “We need to meet in person, which ship is the flagship?”
“My cruiser,” Harman replied, sighing and massaging his temples. “When I was told we were getting reinforcements, I expected a little more in the way of ships. How can I be expected to defend this system with a battered fleet?”
“We make do Admiral. I’ll see you on the flagship in five minutes,” Spike replied, before cutting off the communications. “Harmony, plot me a course for the Admirals flagship and prepare us a docking route.”
“I’ll go get ready at the airlock,” Tarhal informed Spike, before turning and walking off the bridge, leaving Spike to bring the ship in alone.
It didn’t take long for Harmony to reach the flagship, the Harbinger if Spike wasn’t very much mistaken, and the two ships were soon sending umbilical cords between the airlocks, allowing free passage between them, something Spike and Tarhal quickly took advantage of.
As soon as they were on board, the pair made their way up to the bridge, passing by a slew of awestruck soldiers as they passed by. On his own, Tarhal would have cut quite a figure, being taller than every other soldier and mariner on board the ship. Instead, the soldiers were literally stunned as the two giants entered the bridge, looking down at Admiral Harman, the aged man looking up at Spike in shock.
“You’re even bigger in person Knight Spike,” he observed, before walking towards the holo-projector, its surface already set up with the fleets movements around the planet.
There were a multitude of red arrows of varying sizes milling around the planet of Eres III, while further off into deep space were a cluster of black arrows, ones Spike assumed represented the Mandalorian fleet or advanced scouts.
“What do we have in orbit?” Spike asked, turning to face Harman.
“Twelve Hammerhead cruisers, seven of which are damaged and are sixty percent combat efficient or below. Fourteen Foray-class Blockade Runners, all of which have seen action but are all at least eighty six percent combat efficient. We have a full contingent of fighter power for each of our ships, and two ground to orbit cannons on Eres III,” Harman replied instantly, rattling off the figures without even looking down.
“And our forces on the ground?” Tarhal asked wearily.
“Ten thousand soldiers, give or take some from injuries. We have a defensive network set up in the northern plains where the planet is the most stable. If the Mandalorians want to take the planet, they’ll have to take out those defences.”
“And what are the Mandalorian numbers like?” Spike asked, looking at the black arrows.
“Big,” Harman sighed. “Twice our numbers in space, about half as many on the ground. On the ground our troops can’t match them man for man, and in space we get overrun by their numbers. The only saving grace is that our Hammerheads are stronger than their cruisers.”
“Fine, so in Space we’re out number and planet side we’re out gunned. This is just great,” Tarhal scoffed. “Ideas Spike?”
“Let me think,” Spike breathed softly, looking at the fleet arrayed on the hologram in front of him. “Tell me, how long would it take to change the pulse signature drives round on the ships?”
“An hour, maybe two,” Harman replied slowly, looking confused. “Why?”
“Because I may have an idea of how to break the Mandalorians,” Spike smiled, looking out of the viewport at the fleet and the moon beyond. “They won’t know what hit them.”
***
Five Hours Later
***
Spike sighed heavily as he looked out of the viewport of Harmony, slowly counting the minutes since the scout ship had returned. The Mandalorians had been sighted moving towards Eres III half an hour ago, meaning that any minute now, all hell was going to break loose.
Behind his ship, all twelve of the Hammerhead cruisers were formed up in line formation, ready to move forward or back at a moment’s notice, while their two Blockade Runners were ready to surge forward and exploit any holes in the battle line as they opened up. Spike knew that his plan had been risky, and Tarhal had been against it, but Harman had agreed that if they had any chance of winning, they needed to at least try something.
There was also movement on the planet far below the fleet, soldiers running around, desperately trying to get ready to repulse any Mandalorians who got to the ground. Cortez had arrived an hour ago, his transports quickly travelling to the surface, only stopping in orbit long enough to pick Tarhal up. The wookie had wanted to stay by Spikes side, but Spike needed someone to take charge of the ground troops, and he couldn’t think of anyone better suited for the job.
“Sir, we have incoming signatures that match known Mandalorian vessels,” one of the bridge crew called out, having recently been pulled from one of the other ships in the fleet and relocated to Harmony.
“Contact Harman, I want to check he’s got the same,” Spike ordered, leaning forward in his chair and calling out to another crew member. “Charge the shields, prep the weapons and bring us to battle stations. Get me a list of every weapon we have on board now.”
“Aye aye sir,” the crew member nodded, before turning back to his station and letting his hands fly over the buttons on his console.
Instantly, the screens behind Spike flared into life, displaying the ships compliment of weapons. Everything was as he expected, the torpedoes being a nice little bonus, but there was one thing that really caught his eye. He only had one, but if what he had heard about these weapons was true, one nuclear missile would come in very handy.
“Spike?” Harman called out of the communicator. “We’re seeing the same movement here. Commander Argile reports that his ships are in position and powered down as ordered. He’ll need five minutes to start up again.”
“Good, that’s good,” Spike nodded. “All hands! This is your captain speaking. The Mandalorians are on their way. Let’s go get us some kills!”
Spike grinned as he watched the small specks in front of the Republic line get bigger, slowly becoming recognisable as enemy ships, each one bearing similarities to his own stolen ship. Spike mentally prayed that this battle would go better than his other times in space, before pushing forward on his control sticks, the ship reacting to his touch instantly and surging forward.
The distance between the fleets closed rapidly, each ship keeping up with Harmony as they got closer and closer.
Laser fire lashed out from the Hammerheads as their long guns came into range, their fire slamming home into the front of the Mandalorian lines. The enemy shields rippled under the assault, but held, before they too unleashed their weapons, filling the void with lasers and torpedoes. And like that, battle was joined.
Harmony rocked as a barrage of shots slammed into the front shields, before powering towards the opposing fleet, its own forward guns roaring as they added to the weight of fire being poured into the Mandalorians. There was enough ordinance being expended here to supply a small ground war for years, and yet in space, that amount meant nothing, just dust on the wind as shields and armour plates absorbed the ungodly amount of fire hitting them.
“Spike! What are you doing!” Harman roared over the radio, the feed crackling as more fire slammed into both ships.
“Getting to grips with the enemy,” Spike replied tersely. “Please confirm, enemy disposition of two battle cruisers, twelve heavy cruisers and a dozen destroyers.”
“Confirmed,” Harman agreed over the radio. “Now pull back.”
“No, keep the fleet in line and tell me when they Mandalorians are far enough in,” Spike replied, before cutting the feed. “Helmsman! Are the crew ready?!”
“All forces are at their stations, Captain,” The man replied, his eyes swept the scene of deadly fire ahead of them. “This is a suicide mission...”
Spike grinned softly, before shaking his head slowly. “Not if we play our cards right.”
“We’ve got the aces but they’ve got a full house,” the man cried out, desperately trying to get Spike to reconsider.
Spike’s eyes narrowed in determination as he surveyed the battlefield, making last minute adjustments to their course. “Then in the name of Celestia, let’s give these assholes a royal flush.”
The ship shuddered as more shots slammed into their shields, the technology mercifully holding as the Mandalorians ignored the smaller ship in favor of trying to down the Hammerheads. Spike grinned as his plan began to come together, and he quickly activated the comm to the engine room.
“Give me more power now! Run at over power if you’ve got to just find me more speed!”
“Captain!” one of the men in engineering called out over the radio. “I recommend we slow our advance. We’re topping two...”
“Hold your course!” Spike roared back, cutting the man off. It was a bluff, and he was betting the majority now, and if the enemy didn’t play into his hands, they could all be doomed.
Spike braced himself as Harmony neared the Mandalorians, their ships not turning away as they plowed through the fire, until finally, the lead Mandalorian ship surged to the side, banking away and breaking formation in front of them.
“Open fire!” Spike roared over the radio.
Instantly, the void was filled with a hail of laser shots and torpedoes, the new ordinance slamming into the side of the battle cruiser in front of them as it turned away, its own weapons unable to come to bear as they tried to readjust to the new threat. Its shields flared, before finally popping, exposing the ship to the fire from the rest of the fleet. In a matter of moments, the ship was ablaze, shots slamming into its hull and gutting the ship, leaving it as a lifeless hulk. Spike however wasn’t done just yet.
“Captain, missile lock!” A man cried out. “Ten spread, I don’t think our shields will hold off that many.”
“They don’t need to,” Spike muttered, changing the ships course slightly, the ship speeding to pass just underneath the Heavy Cruiser that had fired the missiles. “Are they still following us?!”
“Aye sir, two destroyers also turning to intercept us. I can try evasive maneuvers to try and lose them but…” the man began.
“No! Don’t you dare,” Spike snarled glaring at the ship in front of them. “Fire everything we’ve got!”
“We can’t take their shields down Spike! You’re crazy!” another man cried out. “This is suicide!”
“Just fire!” Spike roared, watching as shot lashed out against its shields. As expected, the shields held easily, but it did the job Spike wanted to do of masking their true intentions.
“All engines emergency speed,” Spike began, before a crewman stood up.
“Sir! I must insist we retreat to the battle line!” he roared.
“Sit down and follow my orders!” Spike roared back. “Engines to emergency speed and bring us about to heading zero three nine.”
“That will put us on intercept course sir,” another crewman begged. “Please…”
“Status of the missiles!” Spike cut him off.
“They’re still following us, trailing us at one hundred and fifteen percent of our velocity. They’ll be on us in thirty seconds,” one of the more level headed crewmen said smoothly. “Collision with Mandalorian Cruiser in twenty two seconds.”
“Hold steady, prepare portside emergency thrusters,” Spike growled.
The emergency thrusters had been a prototype installation by the Republic on Harmony, and if they proved to be useful, they would be mounted on more ships. They were deceptively simple things, little more than tanks of trihydride tetrrazie and hydrogen peroxide, separated by a simple mechanical door. When they mixed together, they did so with explosive force, literally blasting the ship onto a new heading. Spike hadn’t like the idea of them, but the Republic had insisted on them being equipped as payment for them fixing his ship. Now would be the moment of truth.
“Impact with the Cruiser in eight seconds sir!”
“Arm the nuke and drop it now,” Spike shouted, glancing at a screen for confirmation of his plan. “Prep for remote detonation and launch on heading nine eight two.”
“But that’s away from the Cruiser sir,” one of the bridge crew pointed out.
“Do it now,” Spike snarled, holding onto the control sticks tighter as he felt the ship shudder as its nuke left the launch bay.
The ship continued to plough towards the middle of the Mandalorian Cruiser, undeterred by the fire lashing out at the flickering shields. They were holding for now, but if Spike’s plan didn’t work, they would be dead in mere moments.
“Firing emergency thrusters!” Spike roared, slamming his hand down on a button on his chair. “All hands, brace for impact!”
The ship squealed in protest as the fuel mixed, blasting the ship to the right slightly and changing its course just enough so they were no longer heading straight for the middle of the Cruiser.
The squeal was followed by a roar as the lower decks of Harmony scraped against the prow of the Cruiser, both ships shields flaring in protest, their own shields shorting out, while those of the cruiser barely held together.
“Hull breech on the lower decks!” a man called out, but Spike was busy watching the rear camera, praying that his plan worked.
The missiles that had been following them continued along their trajectory, firing tiny micro-boosters to try and follow their quarry that seconds before had been just in front of them. Now however, Harmony was out of their path, leaving them with nowhere to go except straight into the side of the Heavy Cruiser.
The first two missiles slammed into the Cruiser, impacting straight into its mid-section. The ship’s shield flared, flickering…and vanishing from sight. The eight remaining missiles struck a moment later, their plasma warheads turning the ships armour white hot as they drilled through, melting and boiling the armour as they went. Secondary explosions rippled throughout the hull as the ship listed dangerously, its lights flickering as it attempted to keep itself alive.
“Helmsman, do me the honour of blowing that ship to hell and back,” Spike snarled, not taking his eyes off the dying ship.
“A-Aye sir,” the man nodded, before pressing a few buttons.
A moment later, a pair of torpedoes streaked towards the damaged ship, tiny trails of exhaust stretching from Harmony to their target. They slammed into the gaping wound in the ships hull, before detonating, blasting fire and debris out from the Cruiser.
Spike watched with glee as the ship began to burn, before it slowly turned towards Eres III, caught in the gravitational pull of the planet. Without power, the ship had little to no chance of surviving re-entry, and even less chance of being able to control their dive.
“Are those destroyers still following us?”
“Yes sir,” a man called out. “Engines are failing, permission to vent emergency coolant?”
“Permission granted,” Spike nodded, before glancing at a screen beside him. “Tell the crew to brace.”
The two destroyers were coming about, readying their weapons to blow Harmony out of the void. Without their technological shields, Spike doubted he would be able to hold up a magical shield for more than a few seconds, but that wasn’t a problem right now.
In their eagerness to finish Harmony off, both Destroyers had missed something near them, something too small to appear on Spikes screen, but he knew it was there. The nuke. Grinning, Spike tapped a button on his command throne, sending a code burst to the bomb and detonating it.
There was a flash of bright white light as the bomb exploded, the explosion enveloping the two Destroyers and causing them to vanish from view. Even from this distance, Spike felt the ripple of pressure from the power of the bomb, but kept his eyes glued to the explosion. In an instant, the explosion died away, overcome by the lack of oxygen to keep it going in the void, allowing Spike to see the damage he had done.
Both ships were still relatively intact, but their shields were another matter, both craft now floating lifelessly as the EMP waves from the bomb fried their circuits.
“Get me another firing solution, everything we have,” Spike ordered softly, not wishing to think of how many he had ordered dead today.
None of the crew spoke, instead simply staring in awe at the destruction wrought. A few seconds later, missiles, torpedoes and turbolaser shots filled the void between the three ships, slamming home and finishing off the small battle in a brilliant fireworks display as the ships exploded, their superstructure warping and disintegrating under the pressure put on them.
“Get me a status report,” Spike sighed, slumping back in the command throne and looking out at the battle.
Their little duel with the Cruiser and Destroyers had left them on the very edge of the battle, Admiral Harman’s ships still trading fire with the Mandalorians thousands of kilometres away. For now, Harmony was safe and out of the line of fire.
“Hull breeched on decks five through eight, no survivors and bulkheads sealed,” one of the crew began. “Engines one and three are inoperable, the coolant valves have fused from the heat. Engine two is working at sixteen percent capacity. No torpedoes or missiles left, our nuke is gone and the capacitors for the turbolaser and taxed to their limits. Twenty two percent of our own electronic systems are burnt out from the nuclear explosion, including the shield generator, and we’ve lost over two meters of our armour where we hit the Mandalorian ship.”
“Signal engineering to shut down all weapons and work on getting engine two working enough to move us properly,” Spike said softly, massaging his temples and closing his eyes. “Plot a course for our men of Eres III and bring us down. Oh, and open a comms channel to Commander Argile.”
“Aye aye sir,” the man nodded, before beginning to give out orders, before getting up from his seat and walking towards Spike. “Permission to speak freely sir?”
“I thought you were already doing that before,” Spike chuckled softly. “But permission granted.”
“That had to be one of the stupidest, most reckless moves I’ve ever seen in my life sir,” the man snapped, before his features softened. “And it was bloody brilliant.”
“Thank you,” Spike smiled, opening his eyes. “I don’t think I ever caught your name.”
“Lowell sir, Ensign from the Endar Spire,” the man said, snapping off a salute.
“Well then Ensign, would a man who has served on a Hammerhead Cruiser be content to serve on a lowly Corvette?” Spike asked with a smile.
“As long as it keeps taking out Cruisers, I think he would sir,” Lowell smiled.
“You have command then,” Spike smiled, before pressing a button and opening the communication channel to Argile. “Commander?”
“Knight Spike?” the man confirmed. “How’s the battle going?”
“Well enough, start up and give ‘em hell,” Spike sighed.
“Aye aye sir,” Argile chuckled softly, before allowing the channel to go dead.
Wearily, Spike stood up from his chair and walked to the front of the bridge, slowly extending his hands outwards and feeling for the outside of the ship with his magic. It didn’t take him long, and with a grunt, he managed to force a shield into life around his ship. It wouldn’t hold up to much, but it would be enough to keep them alive through re-entry. Spike began to tone out everything out to better focus on the task of holding the shield up, but not before he heard a slow clapping resounding round the bridge, being taken up by the rest of the crew as they headed towards Eres III.
***
On Board the Mandalorian Flagship, the Indomitable
***
Captain Pulphiser stared out across the battle with a scowl beneath his helmet, watching as that thrice cursed ship slunk away towards the planet. It couldn’t have been more than a Corvette, and yet it had taken down a Battle Cruiser, a Heavy Cruiser and a pair of Destroyers almost single handily, not to mention breaking apart his battle line right at the beginning. He wanted to meet the captain who could pull something like that off, before shooting him and making sure he couldn’t stop anymore Mandalorian victories.
Not that it mattered that much. His ships still outnumbered the Republic, and his enemy was already stretched to breaking point. Very soon, they would break through to Eres III and scour the surface clean of the Republic dogs, before moving on. He had been given the glory of this assault by the Mandalore himself, and he was not about to let him down.
“Sir, we have new signatures appearing from behind the moon,” a Mandalorian called out from in front of him.
“What sort of signatures, get me a reading on their pulse drives,” Pulphiser ordered quickly, glancing over towards the moon. The battle was still undecided, and any reinforcements could tip the scales immensely.
“Looks like…oh sheb,” the crewman swore, before turning to face Pulphiser. “Twelve Hammerhead Cruisers sir.”
“Twelve!” Pulphiser roared, before activating a fleet wide communication. “All ships! Republic reinforcements inbound from behind the moon, prepare for incoming fire! Helmsman! Bring us about to face the new threat!”
***
On board the Republic Flagship, the Harbinger
***
Harman allowed a grin to creep across his face as half of the Mandalorian ships, including their Flagship, slowly began to turn away from the Republic lines and reform to face the moon, ready to intercept the incoming reinforcements. If they had actually been reinforcements, it would have been a sound tactical move. As it was, all it did was expose their weaker sides to the Admirals remaining cruisers.
Spike had been reckless, and if he had been under the Admiral’s command, he would have had him court marshalled for recklessly endangering his ship and his crew. Then again, he couldn’t deny his effectiveness in battle, and he silently wished that more Corvettes could do as much damage like that in a battle. If they could, then this Mandalorian threat would be defeated quickly and easily.
“All hands, concentrate fire on the fuel lines of the Mandalorian flagship,” Harman ordered, his men quickly following his orders to the letter.
Laser shot out and slammed into the rear shields of the ship, just as a group of twelve Blockade Runners came into view, their small amount of weapons firing into the Mandalorian fleet. Spikes plan had worked perfectly, convincing the Mandalorians that the ships were cruisers, forcing them to split their attention. All it had taken was a bit of work to switch the pulse drives between his Cruisers and the Blockade Runners. It was a crude method of deception, but in a battle, most ships weren’t going to scrutinise the signatures of new ships for very long. Every second counted when fighting, and decisions had to be made in an instant. Luckily for the Republic, the Mandalorians had just made the wrong decision.
Explosions blossomed in the Mandalorian fleet as their ships began to fail, shields flickering and dying as they tried to come about yet again to face the real cruisers. They no longer were firing, trying to divert as much power to their shields and engines as they could while they sought to retreat from the battle. Funny, it didn’t look like they were trying to retreat, more like…
“Brace for impact!” Harman roared as he realised what the Mandalorians were doing. “Pilot! Evasive manoeuvres now!”
The ship groaned as it moved out of the way, narrowly avoiding the Mandalorian ships as they surged towards the planets, many burning up as they began to come apart.
“Scan the fleet,” Harman ordered. “I want to know what they’re doing. Ships like that won’t risk landing in their condition.”
“Sir!” A lieutenant called out. “Scanners indicate that there are over two hundred small signatures heading for the surface, Basalisk war mounts and…fifty three transport shuttles.”
“Signal Jedi Knight Tarhal and tell him to get ready,” Harman scowled, looking at the planet.
He would have loved to take the dropships out, but the sudden charge had taken him by surprise, and the remnants of the Mandalorian fleet now lay between him and the planet. They were trapped, and they couldn’t fight off the Republic forever, but they had managed to force a ground confrontation. This wasn’t over yet.
“Lieutenant, get me a firing solution on the Flagship. This bastard has been a thorn in my side since day one. He’s not getting away this time,” Harman snarled. He may not be able to help out on the ground right now, but he could sure as hell show the Mandalorians a thing or two about the Republic navy, and why it was a very unhealthy idea to cross it.