//------------------------------// // Holding Action // Story: The Dragon and the Force // by FenrisianBrony //------------------------------// Spike stood on the bridge of his command ship, his eyes fixed on the stars off in the distance. Around his ship was surrounded by the rest of the Fireshot Fleet, the hundred or so ships formed up in a long line with the planet at their backs. The two space stations formed the cornerstones of the blockade, and far below on the surface of Vasdu, men busied themselves loading the massive shells into the Hypervelocity guns autoloader. All in all, Spike was as ready as he would ever be for the coming battle. Not that he felt confident about the coming battle in any way. “Is Captain Leroy ready on the surface?” Spike asked, glancing at one of his bridge crew. “Yes, captain. He’s reporting the cannons are ready and waiting on commands,” the man nodded, “And the Sith? How far out is their fleet?” Spike turned his eyes back to the stars as he forced his voice to stay level, exuding as much confidence as he could. “Long range Hyperspace buoys have gone dark, either they’re experiencing technical difficulties, or they’ve been taken out,” one of the bridge crew replied. “If it’s the former I can’t tell you, sir.” “And if it’s the latter?” Spike asked again. “Minutes, sir.” Nodding, Spike opened up a broadcast to whole fleet, the venerable ships new command and control systems operating at full capacity. “All ships, raise shields and perform final pre-battle cycles. The Sith fleet may upon us in minutes, battle formations. May the force be with us.” Klaxons blared into life as the normal lights on the bridge faded, being replaced by a soft red light. Spike could feel the ships reactors spinning up from idle to battle-ready status, along with the super-structure straining as the gun mounts flared into life. Taking a seat, Spike watched the stars he finally felt what he’d been waiting for. The strands of magic that flowed through the universe began to bend, moments before hundreds of Sith ships materialised into the system. “Scramble all fighters and bombers, defensive pattern sigma!” Spike roared, the broadcasting channel still open. “Katara, make sure you hold your space station, do you best to not let it fall, we need its guns. Senate’s Will squadron, take your corvettes to attack range and commence long range bracket fire. Force the fuckers to dance to our tune. The rest of you, pull up targeting solutions and fire as soon as they get in range.” Not for the first time, Spike wished Harmony was still operational, the extra range of her main gun would have come in handy here, but there was no point crying over spilt bantha-milk as the three corvettes began to move forward, fighters buzzing along beside them. “Sir, torpedoes in range.” “Do we have targeting vectors?” Spike called back. “On the front three ships, aye, captain.” “Fire, full spread,” Spike ordered, thumping his fist on the arm of his chair for emphasis. “Sir, we have missiles in the void, multiple pings aimed at our battle line!” Another crew member called out. “Order our fighters to intercept what they can, raise particle shields and fire, now!” Spike roared. The ship shook softly as a flurry of torpedoes sliced through the rapidly closing distance between the two fleets, the fighters following close behind as they prepared to do their best to destroy what they could. Further out the three corvettes were already engaging the Sith ships, fighting as hard as they could as they forced the Sith to divert ships to deal with them. On their own the ships would hardly present a challenge, but with three of them together, they presented just enough of a threat that they couldn’t be ignored, but enough that they were obviously bait. Spike still felt oddly disconnected from the battle, even as the fighters began firing as well, adding yet more laser fire to the battle. In Harmony he had always been at the heart of the battle, but in this ship, he had to stay at the rear and simply watch, giving orders as other brave men and women carried them out, even if it meant their deaths. “Turbolaser batteries are coming in range in thirty seconds, captain.” “That means theirs are too,” Spike growled. “Brace for enemy fire. What’s the status on the torpedoes?” “Ninety eight percent destroyed before they reached their targets, Sith missiles have managed to slip through our cover, three ships are out of action and are falling back to the far side of the planet, one is already burning and may have to be…” “Order them to turn their ship around and evacuate,” Spike ordered. “Send it at the Sith fleet, give them something extra to waste their time on. I want…” “Incoming Sith fire, targeting on us,” someone called, before the entire ship rocked, lasers slamming into the prow. The lights dimmed for a moment as the shields flared, but somehow held under the barrage. All across the battle line turbolasers began to fire, the Sith fleet accelerating as they fired, determined to break up the Republic battlefleet. Out of the corner of his eye Spike could already see that enemy ships had already reached one of the Space Stations and were engaging it in close quarters, the ships around it engaged in a vicious close-range firefight. “Katara, new plan,” Spike switched to his private frequency, “take your command and cut further to our flank, make it look like you're running and leaving the space station undefended.” “But that could lose us our flank, master,” Katara protested. “Just do it,” Spike snapped. “The Sith know they can’t take out the stations at range as easily as they can in close quarters, if you look like you’re running they may just buy it and come in close enough for us to fire on some important ships with our guns planetside.” “You’re taking a risk, master,” Katara sounded reluctant, but he could already see that she was doing as he ordered, her ships engines blaring brightly as they began to turn away from the battle, leaving their flank exposed.” “Take the bait you bastards,” Spike growled, before raising his voice again. “All ships, all ahead full. We split them down the middle and make them fight us one on one. Groundside crews, do not fire until you have targeting vectors on capital ships. Do not give away your positions for anything less, you may not get another shot. Do you…” “We know about the cannons on the planet, captain Spike” a new voice cut over the comm. “In fact, I’d say we more than know about them, isn’t that right, Captain Leroy?” Spike’s blood ran cold as the voice spoke, before he jumped to his feet, his voice rising into a frantic roar. “All ships! Brace for fire from the…” Before he could finish, Spike was tossed aside as something hit the ship, hard. The rest of the crew fared little better, some staying strapped into their seats, while other less fortunate members were flung across the bridge like ragdolls. Spike heard more than one sickening wet thump as a few of them hit walls or consoles, and knew that they wouldn’t be getting back up, even as he struggled back to his feet, coughing and spluttering as smoke began to congeal on the bridge. “Damage report?” Spike rasped, pulling a piece of shrapnel from his arm and forcing magic into the wound, cauterising it shut. “We’re losing altitude control, we’re listing to the port side!” someone called out. “Engines six and nine are gone, seven and eight are fluctuating heavily. Shields are cycling at two percent efficiency, we cannot take another hit like that, captain!” “And the rest of the fleet? Get us back in line,” Spike coughed. “Don’t let the Sith…past us.” Spike trailed off as a few fighters shot past the viewport, followed by a battlecruiser, as the Sith ships began to simply bypass the Republic line, the damaged and battered ships unable to put up a fight as their enemy got right up beside them. Forcing himself to his feet, Spike propped himself up on one of the smoking consoles, one of his legs sticking as damaged servos ground against each other. “My compliments, Captain Leroy, you performed your part most admirably,” the Sith spoke again. “I am sure my master will be most please. But before we get into that, I want to address the rest of the Republic…” “Who the fuck are you?” Spike snarled, glaring at the speakers as if the man on the other end could see him.” “Well, despite the rudeness of your interruption, I will humour you. You deserve to know who’s beaten you, do you not?” the voice sounded smug. “My name is Admiral Kajoi, and I do not need to ask whom I am speaking to. You are Jedi Master Spike, are you not? The, quote, unquote, hero of the Republic during the Mandalorian Wars?” “I’m not a hero for my part in that,” Spike snapped. “And I’m not here to talk about the past with a Sith traitor.” “No, you are here to surrender,” Kajoi agreed. “My fleet is in position to eliminate any of your ships that try to power up their weapon systems again. Captain Leroy is likewise poised to eliminate fools. By my reckoning you have six ships unharmed, one led by your little padawan I do believe. It was an interesting gambit, telling little Katara to pretend to run. I will let her escape, don’t worry, someone needs to tell the Republic about our victory here. I have dropped my interdictor field as a sign of good faith, and I will even allow the remaining ships under her command to retreat as well, as long as the rest of you surrender, now.” “How far away is Katara from the jump point?” Spike muttered, making sure that Kajoi couldn’t hear anything he was saying, or at least hoping that he couldn’t. The crew member Spike was addressing clearly didn’t share Spike’s optimism about not being overheard, instead tapping on a datapad and handing it over, Spike reading the words two minutes clearly written on the surface. “Katara, are you hearing this?” Spike raised his voice again, a plan slowly forming in his mind. “Yes, master,” Katara’s voice was distraught. “W-W-What…what do I do, master?” “Get yourself out of the system, get back to the Republic,” Spike ordered, typing away on the datapad as he spoke. “They need to know what happened here. I’ll be ok.” “But, master,” Katara began. “Katara, go,” Spike urged, finally finishing his note and passing the datapad to the other crew member. Distribute landing coordinates 09-67-56-78 to the fleet on the back channels. Tell all ships to be ready for my signal. On it, break for the surface. More orders to follow. The crew member nodded, before quietly moving across the bridge to one of the back consoles and slipping a headset on. Spike watched him for a second, before turning back to the main viewport and limping towards it. “Admiral Kajoi? I’m ready to discuss demands.” “Demands? My dear Spike, I do not believe you are in any position to be making demands. Any ship that so much as moves its turbolasers will be destroyed. I am giving every sailor in your fleet this same choice. Surrender to me and join the Sith Empire, or die.” “And what about those who surrender and would never fight for you? Can they expect POW camps?” Spike retorted. “Or does the Sith Empire execute prisoners now?” “I…suppose that I can give certain assurances,” Kajoi seemed reluctant to speak. “Your men will be fed and treated as befitting their status as POWs, but I would advise you all, do not lightly give up the idea of joining the Sith Empire. It is only a matter of time before we win this war, you are being offered a chance to join the winning side.” Spike was about to speak again when one of the crew members caught his eye, pressing a datapad back into his hands. Katara is gone Spike took a deep breath as he put the datapad down, finalising everything in his plan and running through it in his head. If things went well, hundreds of his men would die in just a few minutes, if things went badly, even more would die, and the Sith fleet would roll onwards. This many ships could tip the balance of the war, and only the remains of the Fireshot Fleet stood in their way. “Master Spike, I require your answer as their commander,” Kajoi pressed. “Will you allow your men to make their own decisions, or will you become the tyrant you accuse the Sith of being?” “An answer?” Spike asked softly, before snarling. “All ships! Break for the surface now! Shields to maximum! Helmsman, not us, full speed ahead!” “So be it,” Kajoi snarled back, before the comm went dead. “Diverting all power to the shields and engines,” someone called. “Three ships have made Planetfall, two have been disabled, they’re…” “I don’t want to hear it yet,” Spike cut him off. “If we get through this then we can mourn them. Bring us about to heading two nine nine and prepare for ramming actions.” “What are we hitting, sir?” “That Interdictor ship,” Spike grinned savagely as the huge ship came about, beginning to power towards the smaller Sith vessel. Turbolasers lashed against their shields, stripping them away quickly, before beginning to eat into the heavy armour beneath them. Spike felt the ‘thump’ of bulkheads decompressing as entire levels were opened to the vacuum of space, but the ship kept ploughing on, somehow holding together despite everything. “Hazard suits on, now,” Spike ordered, watching as the crew scrambled to the thin yellow space suits and pulling them on. They wouldn’t do much against enemy fire, but if the bridge was vented like the rest of the ship was being, they could make all the difference. “All crew, all crew, brace for immediate impact!” Spike roared as the Interdictor ship loomed in front of them, before they collided with a sickening screech of tearing metal that reverberated through the hull, before being snatched away as something went through the viewport. Spike dug his claws deep into the hull as the atmosphere rushed out of the bridge, the crew still alive on it magnetising their boots to the same effect, until everything was eerily quiet. Looking around, Spike addressed one of the crew members, his own comm-link attached to his own voice box, allowing him to speak into it even without air to carry the sound waves. “Bring the ship around and get us to the planet’s surface. XO has command.” With that, Spike pushed forward, breaking through the remaining bits of Plexiglas as he floated towards the stricken Sith ship. It was clearly incredibly damaged by the ramming attack, but Spike didn’t have enough time to assess the extent to which his prize was falling apart. Angling his cannon behind him, Spike fired, using the momentum to change course, heading towards the bridge. Continuing to fire, Spike began to gain speed, before with a silent roar, he slammed into the Sith bridge-glass. The glass fractured, but held, and Spike could see frantic movement within. Undeterred, Spike dug his claws into the hull, before beginning to slam his fist into the glass, expanding the cracks across the entire pain, before finally it shattered. If he hadn’t been dug in, the sudden rush of air would have sent Spike flying into space along with most of the Sith bridge crew, but as it was he managed to stay lodged on for long enough for the pressure to equalise at zero, allowing him to climb inside. A few crew members were still on the bridge, all wearing the fully covering armour of the Sith troopers, and they fired at him as he entered, but a few shots from his own cannon soon silenced them, and Spike settled into one of the main chairs on the bridge. “Let’s see,” Spike muttered to himself, opening his mind to the universes magic and feeling for the ships computer. He quickly found what he was looking for, shutters sliding across the ruined glass and re-pressurising the room, warming Spike's chilled bones once more. Not stopping, Spike began to furiously tap away on the console, opening airlocks, hanger doors, bulkheads, anything that could possibly be used to keep out the vacuum. As he worked on that, his mind reached into the computer again, finding all the turrets and battle droids slaved to the ship and corrupting their code. They fought back of course, but his own cybernetics as well as his magic battered down their defences in short order. Targeting restrictions, orders and firing patterns were his to command, and all it took was a flick of his mind to delete from the records any allied data. All across the ship, the survivors of the venting were set upon by their own droids, and hundreds of small fire fires broke out in the dying ship. Soon though, only a single life-form remained, Spike forcing the droids to shut down, before beginning the final part of his plan. “This is Jedi Master Spike, all Republic Forces who made it to the planetary shield touch down and link your ships power to the shield grid. Overclock it and dig in. I’m bringing in a prize, we’re going to force the Sith to come to us on the ground. And any bombers still alive, target the traitor Leroy’s position with extreme prejudice, wipe the pathetic piss stain from the face of the galaxy.” Letting the comm go dead, Spike quickly moved seats to the helmsman area, grabbing hold of the ships control sticks. They were stiff, fighting his command even as his old ship pulled away, heading for the surface, even as yet more shots hit her. The Interdictor cruiser followed after it, barely attracting any attention as the Sith focused everything they had on the battleship. “Get the hell out of there!” Spike bellowed over the comm, connecting directly with the ship. “You can’t take much more, launch escape pods for the surface, now!” A few pods began to shoot out from the ship, some even managing to make it to the planet in one piece, but before anymore could appear, another barrage hit the ancient ship. Slowly, as if it was trying to fight off its own inevitable demise, the ship began listing heavily to the left, before the middle finally gave out, the ship splitting into two. Spike watched in anger as the Sith continued to fire, reducing both parts to little more than slag, now the tomb of hundreds of brave souls. “I’ll get them back for you,” Spike promised softly, before pushing the damaged Sith ship faster, punching through the Sith lines and towards the open skies to the planet. By now the Sith had realised that his ship was no longer responding to their hails, and turbolaser fire began to lash against its hull, but it was too little, too late, the ship beginning to glow as it passed through the atmosphere. “Alright you sons of bitches, you won the fight in the space lanes,” Spike growled, looking over at another console and checking that the Interdictor generators were still intact and were now back online. “Let’s see how well you do on the ground.”