//------------------------------// // Familiar Faces // Story: The Dragon and the Force // by FenrisianBrony //------------------------------// Harmony slowly headed for the ground, her central engine firing sporadically as it tried to keep the ship steady, compensating for the lack of thrust from engines one and three. It was hard flying with only one engine on a ship that required three, even more so in atmosphere, and many pilots would have just said it was impossible. Ensign Lowell was not one of those men. “Give me slightly more power on engine two, extend any flaps we have on the starboard side and bring us about three points to starboard,” Lowell ordered, slowly guiding the ship towards the Republic lines. “Captain? We’re through the atmosphere, you can drop the shield thing you’re doing.” Spike slowly nodded, letting his hands fall from the edge of the ship. Holding the shield around something this size had not been easy, but it was not nearly as hard as blocking lasers. He still didn’t rate his chances against stopping anything more than a personal defence weapon with the shield, but it was still early days. “Thank you Lowell,” Spike nodded, walking past the man and heading towards his quarters. “Bring the ship into land, tell Tarhal we’re coming in. And try to find out what is going on in space please.” “Aye sir,” Lowell nodded, before allowing his hands to dart across his work station, activating a comm relay, being met by a loud crackle of static. “Communications officer, can we clear up the signal at all?” “Negative Ensign,” a man called out, shaking his head. “Our own comm relay is fried, outward bound communication systems are shorting out and working at two percent efficiency. Incoming comms are working though.” “Open a wide beam channel, let’s see if we can get anything from the fleet then,” Lowell called back. A moment later, the bridge was filled with a loud crackle, before a disjointed voice rang out, just about making its way through the static to be recognisable as the Admiral. “hzzzchmessage….all Republic ground forces….hzzzch…dropships inbound….Mandalorian fleet…tatters….mopping up…good luck down there…will offer support where pos…Admiral Har…n out…hzzzch” “Alright, you heard the Admiral, looks like the Mandalorians broke through,” Lowell sighed, before activating his personal comm unit. “Engineering, can we boost speed at all?” “Possibly, but I doubt the engines will hold together under the strain for very long,” came the reply. “I think you could handle a full burn for fifteen seconds before you would start to damage the engine.” “Give me fourteen seconds of full burn,” Lowell ordered. “We need to get down quickly. Somebody inform Captain Spike that the Mandalorians are making planet fall. We’re not out of the woods yet.” *** Spike sighed as he stepped off the ship, shaking his head to disperse some of the darkness that was building up around the edges of his vision thanks to exhaustion. Magic may have been useful, and without it they may have not got through the atmosphere, but it did wipe Spike out, and with the Mandalorians incoming, that could be a big problem. “Ensign, you have command, stay with the ship,” Spike ordered, looking back at the man, finally taking the time to actually take in his features. He was young, relative to the rest of the crew at least, hardly looking a day over thirty. His long black hair was looking like it was close to being over regulation length, and the scraggy beard he was sporting was definitely against Republic military guidelines. Spike wondered how he had got away with it for so long, and momentarily debated asking him, before thinking better of it. He really didn’t care if the man had a beard or not, only that he could fly the ship efficiently. “Aye sir,” Lowell nodded, saluting and turning to walk back into the ship, while Spike looked out over the surface of Eres III. The planet was exactly like Spike had predicted it would be, ash covering the ground, stretching off into the distance where the ground and the blood red sky met. Pillars of smoke rose from distant mountain tops, indicating their volcanic temperament, and thin streams of lava criss-crossed the ground, leading to the larger rivers of the molten magma. Spike was instantly reminded of his brief trip to the Dragon Badlands a lifetime ago, and realised with a slight smile that even with the upcoming battle, he felt strangely at peace here. Still smiling, Spike headed out of the hastily constructed Spaceport, passing by the multiple transports as he headed for the command room. Almost all of the ships here were already covered in ash, and naval ratings were already swarming over their surface, try to scrape off as much of the ash as they could just in case the ships were needed for any reason. The crew of Harmony were doing the same, most of them trying to free up the coolant valves on the number three engine. It would be hard work, and Spike doubted that the ship would be ready for combat again for a long time, and certainly not without a long stint in a dry dock somewhere, but if they could just get the engine working to the same level as number two engine, he would be happy. “Tarhal,” Spike beamed, making his way inside the command building, instantly catching sight of his friend. “How are things going on the planet?” “Not too badly,” Tarhal admitted, turning to face Spike and pulling the Dragon into a bear hug. “How were things going in space before you broke off? I saw the damage on Harmony, looks intense.” “Yeah, but we gave out a lot more than we took,” Spike chuckled softly. “Still, what’s the situation down here? Scanners are down on Harmony, but we heard that the Mandalorians have managed to break through.” “They’ve landed two hundred and thirty two miles to the east, completely out of range of anything we have down here,” Tarhal sighed. “If the fleet could help us, we’d be able to bombard the ever living shit out of them, but they’re still tied up with the remaining Mandalorian fleet. Long range scanners show that there are still a lot of ships up there, so I don’t think we can rely on support from them.” “Great,” Spike grumbled, stifling a yawn. “What’s…what’s our defensive structure like and where do you need me?” “I need you to get some rest,” Tarhal said firmly. “I don’t know what happened up in space but you look shattered. In your condition you’ll be cut down if you stand in the line, so take some time to rest up.” “I don’t need rest,” Spike snapped. “I want to fulfil my orders to Revan and defend this planet.” “You will,” Tarhal pressed, “You are still in command, and as such you can delegate command of the force to someone else so you can operate at your best when you have to. I can run the defences for now while you get some much needed rest.” “I…alright fine,” Spike relented. “I’ll go get some rest, but can you at least tell me where Cortez is. I want to see an old friend.” “The Lieutenant is currently drilling his men behind our lines,” Tarhal chuckled. “How he got put in charge of Special Forces is beyond me.” “He may not be the brightest saber in the order, but he’s good at his job,” Spike pointed out. “He helped me take back the prisoners from Flashpoint, and he stayed my by side during the recovery mission. He deserves it.” “Not saying he doesn’t, he just doesn’t seem like the obvious choice,” Tarhal chuckled. “You remember the forty second Recon Commandos we met up with on Coruscant?” “Yeah, Colonel Samstag and Lieutenant Reacher,” Spike nodded. “What about ‘em?” “Well I’m just saying they seemed much more like Special Forces than Cortez does,” Tarhal grinned. “Still, you never know, they may surprise us all. They’re supposed to be a new template for our new Special Forces anyway, guess not everything is going to be the same.” “Guess that’s right,” Spike chuckled. “I’ll go see him, then get some rest Tarhal. Just promise me you’ll send someone to get me if anything starts ok?” “Yeah, don’t worry about it,” Tarhal nodded with a smirk. “Now bugger off and go get some rest you stubborn dragon.” “Whatever you say you damned walking carpet,” Spike shot back. “Just don’t get people killed while I’m gone.” Laughing, Spike walked away from Tarhal, making his way across the encampment towards the rear, passing by soldiers as they rushed around, setting up defences or getting the weapons ready to use for the coming battle. It did not take him long to reach the rear of the camp, finding a cluster of tents away from the main body of the army. Guessing that this was the Special Forces area, Spike made his way towards the sounds of blaster fire. “Perkins! Keep your shots tight, one shot, one kill,” a familiar voice rang out, and Spike rounded the corner, catching sight of Lieutenant Cortez. The man was just like Spike remembered, but he was now armoured completely differently from the standard issue armour that the unit had worn previously. Instead of fabric covered ballistic plates like normal Republic soldiers wore, Cortez was clad in a black metal chest plate, completely wrapping his upper body in its strong embrace. In front of Cortez, the rest of the Special Forces were busy training, some with blasters, and others with sleek looking vibro-swords. Swords were not a currently a part of every soldiers training, but Spike had seen first-hand how deadly the Mandalorians could be with close combat weapons, and how devastating their attacks could be against unprepared men. Chuckling slightly, Spike moved forward, casting a shadow over Cortez. “What the…” the man asked, turning round, before looking up at Spike and beaming. “Spike! Oh sorry, I mean, Jedi Knight Spike of course.” “Lieutenant Cortez,” Spike nodded, keeping his face impassive, before slowly grinning. “How’ve you been? I heard that you got command of some Special Forces.” “And I heard that we have a certain Jedi to thank for our deployment to boiling hot, lava ridden, Eres III,” Cortez shot back with a smirk. “Honestly sir, couldn’t you have chosen a nice tropical world to have a battle on? Pokitaru for instance? We could have defeated the Mandalorians then kicked back and had some brewskies on the beach while watching their ships burn in the sea.” “Yeah, next time I’m planning where a battle takes place I’ll keep that in mind,” Spike rolled his eyes. “So, tell me a bit about your Special Forces.” “Well, every one of the Vipers is here, we got drafted after we came back from Flashpoint,” Cortez started, looking out over the men. “We also got some reinforcements from other units, but most is from our old men Spike. They still remember you Spike.” “I’m glad I’m not easily forgotten then,” Spike chuckled. “So, how do they stack up against the rest of the army?” “My men are trained well,” Cortez smiled. “Well, Colonel Mika is in theory in charge of the Special Forces unit, a Lieutenant, even a First Lieutenant, can’t command an entire regiment, but he’s back on Arcadia with the rest of the command structure, so I have field command.” “Good on you,” Spike smiled. “So, want to show me?” Cortez nodded with a grin, before turning back to the mass of men arrayed in front of him. “Sergeant Loup, form your squad on me!” he bellowed, and five men ran forward, each clad in the same style of armour as Cortez, except for the dark green metal replacing the pitch black metal that Cortez wore. Now Spike looked, there were two distinct groups of men, those who wore the Black Armour like Cortez, and who were all looking smart, their kit in good order, and those who wore the green armour like Sergeant Loup and his men, looking a lot more scruffy, but each one holding a steely gaze, giving them an even more deadly aura. “Wolf squad fallen in and ready sir!” Loup saluted as the squad came to attention. “Well Spike, want to see what they can do?” Cortez asked with a smile, stepping back and allowing Spike to look over the new soldiers. Spike nodded, before slowly walking around the five man squad, taking in their newer looking equipment and their dirty, worn armour, before standing back in front of them, addressing the squad. “So, who’s your best shot Wolf squad?” Spike asked, looking between all five men. “Private Hagman, sir,” Loup replied instantly, before pointing to one of the older soldiers in the squad, the man’s scraggy beard giving him an air of authority. “Without a doubt sir.” “Right then Hagman, step forward,” Spike smiled, before grabbing a rock from the floor and experimentally tossing it in the air. “Show me.” Spike immediately tossed the rock up into the air, watching where it went closely. Instantly, Hagman was ready, drawing his blaster and after a second of aiming, fired off a single shot. The rock shuddered as the blaster bolt struck it dead on, before Spike grabbed hold of it with the force, inspecting its charred surface. “Not bad Hagman, not bad at all,” Spike chuckled, “Sergeant Loup, you may fall them out.” “Thank you sir,” Loup nodded, before turning and gesturing with his head for the men to move out. “Come on Spike, we can catch up while sitting down somewhere,” Cortez chuckled. “You look like you could use a sit down.” “Yeah, funny how Tarhal said the same thing,” Spike sighed, before following Cortez. “So, what’s the deal with Loup?” “What do you mean?” Cortez asked in confusion. “He’s a good man.” “Yeah, I have no doubt of that,” Spike agreed, following Cortez into one of the tents. “I was meaning what’s with the armour and scruffy look. I thought all the men were using new equipment?” “Well, half of them are,” Cortez nodded, sitting down and pulling out a pair of small brown sticks, offering one to Spike. “Cigar?” Spike nodded, taking one of the sticks and inspecting it closely, before shrugging. He had never smoked before, but he had watched others do it, and he saw no harm in trying. “Give us a light would you?” Cortez smiled, Spike quickly obliging him and blowing a small jet of flame onto the end of the cigars, before sticking it in his mouth and inhaling. He could feel the smoke sliding down his throat, and the heat emanating from it, but it wasn’t burning him, giving him a warm, pleasurable feeling if anything. Slowly, he blew out a puff of light smoke, smiling as Cortez did the same thing. “So go on then, what’s different about Loup compared to the other Special Forces?” Spike asked, taking another puff of the cigar. “He’s one of the soldiers from the remains of the Forty Second Army Recon Commando Battalion,” Cortez sighed. “The unit was almost destroyed on Taris, but they formed the backbone of the training staff for the new Special Forces. They’re good, some of the most experienced men I have, which is why most of their equipment has already seen use. They also refuse to repaint their armour to be black, something about pride in their green jackets. Doesn’t matter to me if they’re pissed, poxed or profane, just as long as they can fight. And they can fight, better than the rest of the army.” “The forty second eh?” Spike chuckled. “Funny old galaxy, I remember them when they were under the command of Colonel Samstag and Lieutenant Reacher. You have big boots to fill for those two Cortez.” “So people keep telling me,” Cortez chuckled, before sighing, taking a long puff of his cigar. "We had some good times, didn’t we Spike? When we were out in the Rim, no one to help us if we got into trouble. Not like now at all.” “No, now we’re both part of the army, and in a big way too,” Spike chuckled. “You’re leading Spec-ops, and I’m sitting on Revan’s war councils. Big step up.” “I heard rumours about something happening on Cathar sir…” Cortez began. “Would you drop the sir shit?” Spike chuckled. “Hell, you’ve known me for enough time that we don’t need to be formal Cortez. Unless you want me to start calling you Lieutenant?” “No, it’s fine Spike,” Cortez chuckled. “Fine then. What happened on Cathar? I heard tensions were pretty high there, some of the soldiers that were on the planet said they were actually worried something might happen.” Spike sighed, rubbing his temples thoughtfully, before replying “Revan and I met up on Cathar, looking for evidence of Mandalorian war crimes to bring to the attention of the council to get them off their arses. The council crashed the party, and…well, I possibly wasn’t exactly the biggest help. There was a traitor, and old friend, and it pushed me to the breaking point, to the point where there was very nearly a full on battle between the Revanchists and the council, with the Republic soldier stuck in the crossfire. If that had happed…if I had let the beast loose for just a second…well, the Mandalorians wouldn’t be the big problem anymore. We would have ripped the order in two, a civil war between the Jedi, right across the galaxy.” “Yeah, I can see that being bad,” Cortez nodded. “Still, it didn’t happen, and now you’re helping us, right?” “Right,” Spike agreed. “There won’t be a civil war. Revan wants to help the Republic, not tear it apart. For all his war-like nature, he wouldn’t risk sparking off an even deadlier conflict.” “Good. I mean, not that I thought he would, but…it’s just reassuring to hear you say it,” Cortez sighed. “Don’t worry about it Cortez,” Spike assured him. “No Jedi is going to turn on the Republic, least of all Revan. He loves it way too much to do that. He’s more likely to leave the order and join the army than to attack the Republic. The same goes for Alek, oh wait sorry, for Malak, for Meetra Surik, for myself, and for all the other Revanchists. We won’t abandon the Republic, and we certainly won’t attack it.” “It’s good to hear,” Cortez smiled. “I’d hate to have to face you in battle someday, I’m sure my wife would make a poor widow.” “Don’t count yourself out so quickly Cortez, you have your Special Forces now,” Spike chuckled. “I’m sure these guys would be a big help if there ever was this hypothetical confrontation.” “Hopefully they will be good against the Mandalorians as well,” Cortez pointed out. “Our army just isn’t prepared to face them at the moment, they’re tough, their weapons and armour are better, they have better training, more determined soldiers, and their commanders are as ruthless as they are brilliant. I just hope that I’ll be able to do my bit to turn it around. The army needs a decisive victory, you have no idea what defeat after defeat does to morale.” “No, but I can imagine,” Spike nodded slowly. “Maybe Revan will be able to pull something out of his arse around Omonoth, or maybe Meetra will have luck taking on the forces attacking the trade routes.” “What about here?” Cortez asked. “I mean, we’ve won in space, that counts for a lot on the ground. We could win here, not just force them to retreat, actually wipe them out.” “Yeah, maybe,” Spike agreed. “But we’re on the defensive. We have to win, but to a lot of soldiers, all we will have managed to do was stop an attack that should have never been allowed this far into the Republic anyway. We need a victory, an attack that we can actually get behind and start taking back territory that we’ve lost.” “A victory at a place like Taris then?” Cortez offered. “Yeah, Taris would work well,” Spike nodded. “Maybe if we manage to stop the Mandalorians here we’ll be able to link up with Revan’s forces and help in the attack.” “I hope so, and by that point my men will have seen combat. I mean I know they’re all top quality soldiers, but skill isn’t everything. They need to stand as well, to not run under fire.” “No training can prepare you for that,” Spike pointed out. “Exactly, that’s why I want to test them in the fires of combat as soon as possible,” Cortez agreed, before glancing over as a soldier made his way into the tent. “Lieutenant Cortez sir, you are needed outside,” the man saluted. “Thank you Corporal,” Cortez nodded, dismissing the soldier, before looking back at Spike. “Looks like I’ll have to cut this short. Hopefully we can catch up properly some time, maybe when we’re not preparing for a battle.” “Sound good to me,” Spike stood up as he replied, looking out at the men while taking a final drag of his cigar. “Do you have any spare bunks around here? I don’t know where to even start looking for the rest of the command structure sleeping arrangements.” “Yeah, we have a few,” Cortez nodded, pointing to one of the pre-fab buildings that were being used. “You should find something in there, although, I’m not sure if we have anything in your size.” “You know what, forget it,” Spike shook his head. “I’ll sleep outside. It’s not exactly cold.” “Suit yourself,” Cortez smiled, before saluting. “I’ll make sure to wake you up if anything goes wrong sir.” “Thank you Lieutenant,” Spike nodded, before making his way out across the camp. After watching the men training for a few minutes, even Spike had to admit to himself that he was tired after failing to stifle yet another yawn. Slinking over towards the pre-fab that Cortez had pointed out, he poked his head inside, before realising that just like Cortez had said, there was nothing in that that would even remotely fit a creature of his stature on, save for dragging multiple bunks together. Sighing, Spike sat down on the floor, leaning his back against the wall of the building and resting his chin on his chest. His eyes slowly became heavier, and in a few seconds, he was fast asleep.