A small shuttle slowly, almost lazily, began its final descent towards the surface of the rogue moon that orbited Taris, the heavy wind and rain that lashed its surface buffeting the craft, forcing the pilot to stay constantly on edge. The pilot softly cursed under his breath, before falling silent as the door behind his seat slid open.
“Is there a problem pilot?” Revan asked, placing a hand on the man’s shoulder.
“No, sir,” the man shook his head. “Just nerves fraying a bit, storms making piloting a bit more difficult.”
“First time in atmosphere?”
“I know what I’m doing, sir,” the man assured Revan. “Just try adding on all the codes I’ve got to transmit to get the guns down there to let us through. We’ve been clocked on long range scanners since we were halfway between here and Taris, in the sight of their long guns for almost as long. What’s so secret down there that they get so many access codes? I thought it was just a military base.”
“It is,” Revan shook his head slowly. “But sadly it’s a base run by someone who’s a bit paranoid these days.”
“The wars got everyone on edge, sir,” the pilot agreed, before letting out a sigh of relief. “Looks like we got through, sir, should be a straight shot to the surface now.”
“Good. Set us down in the main hanger bay, there should be people waiting for us there.”
“Understood, sir.”
Revan turned and walked back towards the ships transport bay, the door sliding closed behind him as he approached Malak, the taller man staring out of the window passively, turning slightly to give Revan a small nod, before returning to the window.
It didn’t take much longer for the shuttle to finally touch down, bringing with it a cascade of water as it finally broke through the rain. The ramp began to lower the second it touched down, Revan and Malak waiting for it to fully deploy before exiting the craft and looking around the hanger.
The pair were instantly alert, hands flying to their Lightsabers as they took in the twenty or so soldiers standing in formation before them, each wearing bone white Mandalorian armour, minus the helmets, and bearing the crest of the Republic on the left side of the chest. Almost all of them were also sporting various symbols, varying greatly from soldier to soldier. The only thing that stopped the pair of Jedi igniting their lightsabers immediately was Tarhal, the wookie standing to attention in front of the men.
“This is, interesting,” Malak muttered softly.
“Agreed,” Revan nodded, before walking forward towards Tarhal, his hand still hovering over his Lightsaber. “Knight Tarhal.”
“Knight Revan, Knight Malak,” Tarhal nodded back in greeting. “I assume that by your reactions, Spike didn’t tell you about this?” he gestured at the soldiers.
“No, he did not,” Malak growled, not even bothering to try his contempt. “What are we looking at?”
“We raided a Mandalorian supply convoy two weeks back, best haul we’ve got so far,” Tarhal began, dismissing the troops with a casual wave, before gesturing for Revan and Malak to follow him deeper into the base. “We got a lot of stuff from that, the armour included.”
“I read the report,” Revan nodded. “Ships, droids, weapons, tanks, it was very impressive, hurt the Mandalorians and benefited our scientists. I don’t remember anything about captured armour.”
“Spike didn’t include it on the report,” Tarhal shrugged. “Decided to keep it off the records as it were.”
“Alright then, next question,” Revan rolled his eyes beneath his helmet. “Why?”
“It’s better than our equipment,” Tarhal shrugged. “Beyond that, you’d have to ask him.”
“I plan to,” Malak cut in. “Where is he? I assumed he’d be here to greet us. Can we expect his company, or his other self-running the show at the moment?”
“Be careful who talk about that with, Spike doesn’t exactly enjoy having conversations about him. Necessary evil and all that I think. Ask him yourself though, he’s at the practice range at the moment, come on, it’s not far.”
Quickly reaching a door, Tarhal tapped in the code before stepping inside, Revan and Malak following as they saw Spike, most of his body shielded behind a wooden partition. As they walked closer a flurry of blaster bolts lashed out from Spikes partition, striking a target down range dead centre.
“Permission to enter the armoury?” Tarhal called out, striding forward.
“Tarhal,” Spike smiled, stepping back and looking at Revan and Malak, nodding at the pair, before returning his attention to the gun slung beneath his bionic arm, tending to the blast cannon.
“More modifications I see?” Revan noted.
“You gave me part of a wardroids brain,” Spike shrugged, not looking up. “Targeting computer, ammo counters, everything a droid would need to fight. Plus not every fight happens up close, having long range firepower isn’t exactly a bad thing.”
“Must make it hard to use your Lightsaber though,” Revan countered, drawing a snort from Spike. Before Revan could ask what the snort was for, Spike reached down and drew Elusive from his belt, slotting the perpendicular handle into the underside of his gun with a loud click, before clenching his fist, the white blade erupting outwards.
“You were saying?”
Revan was silent for a second, his mask giving away nothing about his feelings on the situation, or even what he was truly looking at, but eventually he broke the silence. “Spike, you are in command of the Special Forces and your own body, I hardly presume to tell you how to manage the latter, but the Special Forces wearing Mandalorian armour…”
“It’s better,” Spike cut in, his red eye flashing as he looked at Revan. “It can stand up to more punishment, it’s modular, so we can add on more parts or replace broken ones without replacing the entire suit, plus the confusion it sows in the enemy ranks when they come face to face with people wearing their own armour causes them to hesitate for a second. My men don’t hesitate.”
“And if Republic troops see you?” Malak asked, drumming his fingers on the hilt of his Lightsaber as he glared at Spike.
“Go ahead, try it Malak,” Spikes voice was low as his gaze turned towards Malak, a red laser shining out from it and resting on Malaks head. “Any commanders will be informed, the message will be transmitted to all Republic comms when we land, plus I’ve never seen it in white before, soldiers will pause long enough for them to realise who we’re killing.”
“Spike, turn the targeter off,” Revan ordered, placing himself between Malak and Spike.
“Fine,” the laser shut down as Spike grinned, showing slightly too many teeth for it to be a genuine one. “The armour stays, majority vote from every soldier, not just the officers. Now, what do you want Revan?”
“I am the High General of the Republic, I am allowed to inspect Republic soldiers and bases when I desire,” Revan pointed out. “I do not need a reason to speak to my commanders or inspect men under my command.”
“And I’m a dragon, I’ll protect what’s mine,” Spike retorted.
“Yours by my word.”
“Try and say something different, see what happens.”
“Enough!” Tarhal bellowed, his roars and growls cutting through the basic that everyone else was speaking. “The pair of you, enough. Posturing is stupid and gets us nowhere. Spike, Revan is our superior officer, show him respect. And Revan…pick your battles.”
“Why is the wookie talking sense into us?” Revan chuckled, before sighing and shaking his head. “Spike, I apologise for what I said and for any insult. The war has me on edge as it is, and this was an unexpected variable.”
Spike nodded, before looking at Malak. “Think you can play nicely as well?” Without waiting for an answer, Spike pushed passed the pair, turning his head back to look at them as he walked. “Come on, whatever plans you want to give to me and mine can be taken in the war room. It’s what it’s for after all.”
***
“Duxn,” Revan announced, a hologram of the planet appearing as he spoke. “As you probably know, Meetra Surik has been given the task of taking the planet. The first and third armies are there in force, as well as the remains of the second army.”
“Yes, I know,” Spike nodded. “She has more troops at her disposal than any other single theatre of war.”
“Had,” Revan shook his head. “Intel was wrong, very wrong. The Mandalorians are dug in deep, their numbers are far greater than we were lead to believe, and we didn’t count on the local wildlife proving such an obstacle.”
“How many casualties?” Tarhal asked.
“Best estimates put Meetra’s force at a quarter of its original strength, and ten times more than the Mandalorians,” Revan replied. “This is shaping up to be the single bloodiest battle of the war, simply because I believe that it is the turning point. We have been making huge gains since Taris, but if we lose on Duxn, we’ll lose our momentum. Cassuss Fett is still out there, and if given the chance he’ll roll back over us like he did at Jaga’s Cluster.”
Spike let out a soft snarl at the mention of Cassuss Fett, before returning his attention to the hologram. “I assume that you can’t spare that many men to keep this meat grinder going for much longer?”
“Correct. If we take any more from other battlefields, our weaknesses will be exploited in the same way and Duxn will be cut off again. Only one unit is left unaccounted for on the front lines that has the numbers and skills to make enough of a difference to tip the scales.”
“And you needed a personal call to give me a new fight?” Spike asked. “A hologram would have been fine.”
“I wanted to inspect the Special Forces at the same time,” Revan admitted. “No one has seen the Special Forces in weeks, you keeping to yourself and all that. I wanted to see the changes wrought, I will reserve judgement until after Duxn.”
“If that’s all then?” Spike asked, pointing at the door.
“It’s not,” Revan shook his head.
“Revan…” Malak began, before being silenced by a simple raised hand.
“Our slicers found something, buried deep within the archives on Taris, an old rule from centuries ago, if not millennia,” Revan began.
“Great, good for him, is he up for a medal or something?” Spike chuckled.
“Yes actually, but more importantly, it gives me backing for some more, radicalised movements. Before the days of the Great Hyperspace War, jedi acted as generals underneath a Republic High General, who had never been a Jedi. During the war however, the Jedi took power, just as a new law was passed by the senate. The law, more of a proclamation really, was signed and agreed to by the Jedi, and states that the High Commander of the army has the unquestionable power to promote, demote or change the ranks of any under his command as he sees fit, as long as they are listed amongst the official members of the Army. What the law fails to stipulate however is which organisation it pertains to, the Republic Army or the Jedi Order. Since it was ratified and agreed to by the High Council as well as the Senate, and there is nothing stating otherwise, we have taken it to mean both.”
“No way can you have that power,” Spike shook his head.
“And this means?” Tarhal cut in, looking slightly confused.
“Revan can promote Jedi,” Spike said, his voice taking on an almost reverent tone.
“Correct,” Revan nodded, “Although by the Jedi’s own laws, a knight cannot promote another knight without the ratification and presence of a Jedi Master.”
“And considering the fact that no Master has joined our crusade, that means it won’t affect Tarhal and I, so why tell us?” Spike asked.
“Well, we may have no Masters ‘officially’ in our ranks,” Revan began, “but that doesn’t mean that some are not receptive to our cause.”
“Who?” Spike asked, his eye fixed on Revan.
“You’ll see,” Revan replied, before placing a datapad on the holoprojector. “The coordinates in this datapad will lead you to a small ship. Dock with it and await my arrival. This is thin ice Spike, very thin ice, and I do not want to push this too far. Please, do not make me regret this decision, for nothing more than the fact Malak would never let me live that down. Bring your ship and crew, send the rest to hold position at the enclosed coordinates.”
With that, Revan turned, marching swiftly from the room with Malak a half pace behind him, leaving Tarhal and Spike alone in a semi-shocked silence. Eventually, Tarhal broke the silence, raising his voice and looking at Spike.
“Did he just say that he could make you a Master?”
“I’m not sure,” Spike switched to Shyriiwook, looking at his friend. “I guess we’ll have to find out. Assemble the men, every last one of them. Take the fleet and hold position wherever Revan wants us and wait for my return. We’ll know soon enough what this is all about.”
Nodding, Tarhal turned and walked out of the room, speaking into a communicator as he disappeared from sight, leaving Spike to stare at the holoprojection of Duxn. For a long time he simply looked at it, not moving, not breathing, just looking, before pressing a few buttons on the projector. Instantly the images began to cycle through shots taken from the surface, from the aftermath of battles, to the visible parts of Cassuss Fetts largest fortress. It was a rock, and a damn big one, which could easily break the wave of the Republics assault. That was unless Spike had anything to say about it.
And we always do, don’t we, Spike?
“That we do, Desolation, that we do,” Spike mused for a second, before turning and striding from the room, his metal claws scraping against the floor as he walked.
***
Spike watched as Harmony drew closer to a small flotilla of ships, noting that there were no ships in the group that matched his own, either for size or firepower. Not that he was planning on engaging the flotilla, but it seemed to be the first thing he noticed these days. The ships modifications had taken well, mainly in the hanger and cargos bays, allowing men to be loaded into the specially designed rapid deployment pods, cutting deployment times in half.
It was a new innovation, again taken from plans from the Mandalorians, and it had yet to see widespread use, but Spike and the rest of the Special Forces saw it as the answer to one of their biggest problems. Duxn would be the first time they were used properly, and Spike was itching to try them out, as well as his own personal project.
“Lowell, transmit authorisation codes and open up the long range scanners. If anything jumps within three systems, I want to know about it. Then bring us up next to that shuttle sitting in the middle of the fleet, anything tries to tell us to divert, weapons lock on them till they back down, we’ll see if they’re green or not.”
“Aye sir, bringing us in now sir,” Lowell nodded. “ETA two minutes thirty three seconds.”
Spike didn’t reply to this, instead simply nodding, looking out the viewport as ships flared their engines, hurrying to get out of the way of the approaching warship, before Harmony finally slowed beside the shuttle, deploying an umbilical cord to the other ship.
“Ensign, you have the ship,” Spike commanded. “If any of these ships even looks like they’re going to give you trouble, you have a weapons free verdict. I don’t like being so far in unsecured territory without any sort of backup.”
“Aye sir.” Spike didn’t wait to hear if Lowell had anything else to say as he made his way towards the umbilical cord connecting the two ships, patiently waiting as the door at the far end slid open, revealing two men dressed in the garb of the Coruscant Temple guard and holding antiquated rifles close to their chest. Like most of the equipment of the Guard, it was more for show than actual practicality, but to their credit, no one had ever managed to get within a hundred feet of the temples steps without already being searched and checked by a platoon of the guards.
“Knight Spike, it is a pleasure to finally meet a Jedi who has caused such a stir within the order,” the first one stepped forward as he spoke. “Master Kavar awaits your presence.”
“Kavar?” Spike asked, chuckling slightly. “Of course, who else. Lead on Sergeant.”
The man nodded, turning as he led Spike through the cramped corridors of the ship, before stopping in an empty room. “Master Kavar will be along shortly sir, last minute preparations have caught his…”
“Don’t worry about me sergeant, I won’t be keeping our guest any longer than he has to be kept,” Kavar’s voice seemed to cut through the air like a knife, commanding respect without ever demanding it. “You are dismissed, this is a Jedi matter.”
“Of course sir,” the sergeant nodded, turning and leaving Spike alone with Kavar, the door sliding closed behind him. As soon as it was closed, Kavar looked over to Spike, taking in every inch of the dragon before finally speaking.
“Knight Spike, commander of Revan’s Special Forces.
“Master Kavar, the famed guardian of the High Council,” Spike replied, his face remaining impassive for a second, before breaking into a smile. “It’s good to see you my old friend.”
“Likewise,” Kavar nodded. “The years have not been kind to you have they? Even for a dragon. By the force, the rumours don’t really do you justice these days do they, Spike? What is it? Seventy percent?”
“Eighty two,” Spike corrected him. “But I’m coping. What news from home?”
“You mean Coruscant, or the Temple?”
“Both, for better or for worse they’re the closest things I have these days.”
“Coruscant is coping, just as you would expect from the capital. The war is putting pressure on the world just like every core world, and we have more and more refuges every day,” Kavar began, taking a seat and indicating one which Spike could have, which Spike declined with a simple shake of his head. “It has gotten better admittedly in the past weeks since Taris was retaken, but I but my hopes doubt that we will see a marked improvement in the situation until the war is brought an end. I just pray that it won’t be too bloody, but given how it has been conducted up until now, my hopes are not high.”
“Especially with Duxn proceeding how it is,” Spike nodded. “But soon that will come to an end, then the Mandalore and Cassuss have nowhere to run. What of the Temple? How’s the white bitch taking it?”
“Master Atris is still against the war,” Kavar pointedly put extra emphasis on Atris’s title before continuing properly. “She is still telling us that Jedi involvement in the war is the wrong move, but her voice has become less heeded in the recent months. It’s hard for her to gain any traction with Revan scoring victory after victory. When it ends though, things will most likely be different, you best be careful Spike, especially with the other rumours circling about you, and brutality against our enemies.”
“If it wins the war,” Spike muttered softly.
“And damns your soul? What then?” Kavar asked, before holding a hand up to stop any rebuttal of the comment. “I am not here to debate semantics with you Spike, that can wait until after the war. For now, I only have one goal, ending this war with as few casualties as possible, on both sides. If Revan is really attempting to reward those who are serving well, then it makes sense as to why he promoted Meetra Surik to Knighthood, and how highly he thinks of you. When he first contacted me, I expected he was talking about Malak, those two have always been inseparable, but to find out he meant you…”
“Spit it out Kavar,” Spike’s voice became terse as he spoke, his red eye glowing slightly brighter, almost imperceptibly so. “There’s a bloody war going on, and every second, another man dies.”
“I’m making you Master,” Kavar replied simply. “Revan asked for a favour, for one thing, and that was a master in his ranks. In return he’s promised to send any Padawans that join him from this day forward back to Coruscant. This will stop the youngest members of our order marching to war and death, and it provides another figurehead for Revan to use. The one thing he has lacked is a master, someone who he can use to work the angle that the Jedi are fully behind the war.”
“Which we’re not,” Spike pointed out.
“I know that, you know that, Revan knows that, but to the common man, those who would sign up to fight, the symbol will be powerful,” Kavar agreed. “The war doesn’t need more jedi, it needs more men, and if I was going to choose a Master then there are only a few I would personally ratify. You are one, Tarhal is another, perhaps some of the slightly older jedi too. So, do you accept?”
“Yes,” Spike took a sharp breath in.
“Very well, kneel Spike.”
Nodding, Spike fell to his knees, bowing his head before Kavar as the man advanced towards him, igniting his Lightsaber and holding it before his face. “Knight Spike, I, Jedi Master Kavar, by the power invested in me as a member of the High Council of the Jedi Order, and the power allowed to me by High General by senatorial writ, Knight Revan of the Jedi Order, do name you Master. This title shall be yours, to be held until you become one with the force, whenever that may be.”
Kavar carefully lowered his Lightsaber towards Spikes left shoulder as he spoke. “With this hand of metal you will defend the Republic from all its foes.” He moved his Lightsaber up over Spikes head, before lowering it towards Spikes right shoulder. “And with your hand of flesh, you shall teach us your wisdom, carried through the ages to generations of our Order. Arise, a Knight no more, Jedi Master Spike.”
Spike slowly got back to his feet, his cybernetics scraping softly against each other as he rose back to his full height, towering over Kavar.
“Don’t make me regret this decision Spike,” Kavar sighed slightly. “Atris will not be happy that you of all Jedi have been promoted, but what’s done is done now. Please Spike, think about what I said; defence and wisdom. The best defence may sometimes be a good offense, but a Master needs to know when that time is.”
“I understand the principle,” Spike assured him. “That being said, I can’t stop yet, the war’s not over. The strong have to step up to safeguard the weak, isn’t that the Jedi way? I need to leave, thank you, Master Kavar.”
“One more thing before you leave, Master Spike,” Kavar opened a comlink on his wrist communicator. “Come down please.”
“What’s going on?” Spike asked warily.
“There’s one more thing that I can give to you, one Master to another,” he smiled. “Jedi Master Spike, if you accept, I present to you your new student, Padawan Katara.”
The door slid open as he mentioned Katara’s name, Spike whirling around as he set his eyes on the new occupant to the room, taking in everything, from her still bald head to the Zeison Sha Initiate armour that she was wearing.
“Hello, Master Spike.”