Places Reversed
“Try it again specialist,” Sergeant Vaughn ordered, pacing up and down the room and wincing slightly as his splinted arm knocked against his chest. “I promised General Spike I’d have radio contact by the time he got back.”
“I’m trying sir, but getting a broken radio to send signals is hard. Receiving’s slightly easier,” the specialist shook his head. “With proper tools I could probably do it, but with make-do stuff, the most I can do is get a listening device.”
“Well, it’s better than nothing I suppose,” Vaughn sighed. “Get it up and…someone’s coming, places.”
Instantly the room was filled with muffled movements, the soldiers who had been left behind in the makeshift base scrambling to get to their defensive positions. Vaughn drew his sidearm, cradling it in his one good arm as he crouched down behind a barricade and glanced around the base.
There were six troopers currently preparing to face whoever was approaching, most of whom were in some state of injury or disrepair. Two more were unconscious in the back room from injuries, while the rest of the Republic Forces were out on yet another mission. They were the ones who had to stay behind, and Vaughn hated every second of it. He didn’t join the Special Forces to sit back and defend a disused sewage plant for nigh on two weeks, but with a shattered femur, he wasn’t in any place to argue when General Tarhal had told him to stand down.
His body tensed up as he heard a scraping sound just outside of the heavy blast door that separated the plant from the old piping network, before a single loud thump was heard from the other side, followed by three more in quick succession, and finally two long ones.
“Stand down,” Vaughn let out a sigh of relief as he straightened up, walking towards the keypad and quickly typing in the security code for the day.
With a loud scraping sound, the heavy metal slab split into four segments, each one sliding back diagonally into the housing in the walls, and allowing the people on the other side to enter the base, General Tarhal leading the way, his shaggy fur slightly singed by the day’s events. The rest of the troops followed him, almost thirty of them now, and still growing as more surviving forces managed to make their way to the Republics base. Finally, General Spike approached the doors, walking on all fours to allow him to fit through the tight pipelines, before finally standing in the larger room and stretching his back and sighing contentedly.
“Sergeant, report,” Tarhal ordered, his growls almost being drowned out by the screeching door sound as it slid closed behind them.
“No Mandalorians came snooping, and we may manage to get the radio working as a listening device. The specialist doesn’t think he can get the receiver to work though.”
“That’s good enough,” Spike grunted, shrugging slightly as he unhooked a host of straps from around his body and letting the saddle that had been attached to his back slide to the floor. “I want that thing working in ten minutes. Tarhal, come find me in the mess hall once it’s operational. Bring the saddle, you can clean it before you try and put it back on me.”
With that, Spike turned and walked towards the back of the base, heading for what had once been the overflow sumps, but now served as only a smelly reminder of where they were. No one ever went in there, save for Spike, and no one really knew quite what he was doing in there, but rumours were abound, and they had only gotten stringer when they heard Spike talking to someone in there. It didn’t help that when he had spoken, someone, or something, had answered back.
Vaughn watched him go, before turning back around and finding himself being confronted by Sergeant Loup, the commander of Wolf Squad and Spikes unofficial command squad leader, which did seem to put him in a very high position within the Special Forces. The man had a new scar across his face, but didn’t seem to be paying attention to the cut, instead keeping his soft smile focused on Vaughn.
“So, how’s the arm?”
“It could be better,” Vaughn shrugged, before wincing. “I doubt it will be getting better any time soon. But enough about me, how did the excursion go?”
“Better than some, worse than others,” Loup chuckled. “We went out and found a Mandalorian listening post twenty three miles west of here. You would have thought after we started using jump packs they would have gotten used to us using aerial attacks, but no, we swooped in and took it out. Should draw some more Mandalorians away from alpha objective.”
“I hope so,” Tarhal agreed, walking towards the pair, his staff-like Lightsaber slung across his back and the leather saddle draped over one arm. “The more we draw away, the better our chances are of crippling the Mandalorians and giving Revan a better chance of breaking through and getting us some reinforcements.”
“Well then, I say we get the radio working and then go to the mess hall to plan our next move,” Cortez grinned. “Oh and General, clean that saddle up. It smells like shit.”
“We’re in a sewage plant and it’s got blood on it, I doubt it would smell like roses,” Tarhal quipped, before throwing the worn leather to Cortez. “But since you’re so eager to get it cleaned, you can do it. Oh and remember, Spike quite likes the whole rough feel on his back, so don’t smooth it out to much ok?”
“Oh come on,” Cortez groaned, hefting the saddle onto his shoulder. “Do I have to?”
“That’s an order Lieutenant,” Tarhal laughed, before turning and walking towards the mess hall, followed by Vaughn and Loup. Cortez let out a low groan, before turning towards another corridor and setting off to clean the dried blood and sweat off the saddle.
***
“Another successful raid then?” Moonstone asked, materialising beside Spike and sitting down and looking around the room. “You know, it’s at times like this when I feel sorry for Desolation.”
“Who are you and what have you done with Moonstone?” Spike chuckled. “The Moonstone I know would never feel sorry for Desolation.”
“He has a nose, whereas I’m just an apparition,” Moonstone replied simply. “Maybe you should spend less time in the Overflow Sumps.”
“It’s quiet, dark and away from everyone else. It’s nice to get away from people sometimes.”
“No I get that,” Moonstone nodded. “It’s hard for me to do it, but I get it.”
“Well I’m sorry you can’t get out of my head more often,” Spike grinned. “Still, you took charge of a lot of non-combat processes in my brain while I was out, anything interesting crop up?”
“You had a few interesting thoughts, even a few about home, but nothing mission critical. Oh, and part of your brain is still rebelling against the idea of you wearing a saddle and being ridden. Mostly Desolation from what I’ve gathered.”
“Everyone else planetside is airborne in one way or another, and so far we haven’t found a jetpack that will lift a wookie as large as Tarhal. No one else is large enough to even contemplate carrying him, so it made sense for him to jump on my back, and the saddle just makes things easier. Plus it’s not actually that uncomfortable.”
“Well it does seem to have worked nicely,” Moonstone smiled. “The Mandalorians are having to spread their forces pretty thin to keep their outposts safe from you and the rest of the forces.”
“That’s the point,” Spike nodded, standing up and stretching slightly. “Spread ‘em out, then we can hit them when they're weak. Plus we’re keeping them confused and on the back foot so they can’t know where we’ll be hitting next. Random attacks can’t be predicted.”
“Yes, but they can’t be planned out properly either,” Moonstone pointed out. “Wouldn’t it be nice to be…I don’t know, a little bit less chaotic in your approach to battles?”
“War’s chaos Moonstone, and we do well in it because we practice chaos every day now. It’s not so good for big campaigns, but that’s not my area of expertise. Talk to Revan if you want something planned, but at some point you’ve got to get boots on the ground. That’s where I step in, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
The conversation was interrupted by a banging on the windowless iron door, drawing Spike's attention to the old clock on the wall. Seeing that his ten minutes were up, he turned and shrugged at Moonstone, before beginning to walk to the door.
“Going to have to cut this chat short. Damn, Desolation really wanted to stretch his legs a bit today.”
“Why haven’t you let him out in combat then?”
“I don’t properly trust him still,” Spike admitted softly. “He’s never fought in an actual battle, you know, with troops under his command. I don’t want to risk him turning on Republic troops after the Mandalorians are dead.”
“Do you really think he’d do that?”
“I’d rather not find out.”
With that, Spike yanked the heavy door open, making his way into the corridor and following after the soldier who had knocked as he had walked by, the man now halfway down the corridor and heading for the mess hall. It didn’t take him long to reach the room, ducking under the low door before striding towards Tarhal, Cortez and the radio specialist.
“Another interesting chat with yourself?” Cortez smirked.
“Very much so yes,” Spike shot back, sticking his tongue out, before noticing the saddle. “Ah, you cleaned it for me.”
“Well I don’t want to sit in my own sweat again do I?” Tarhal chuckled, before placing the radio onto the table.
It was a large metal box really, the odd wire trailing out of it from where it had been torn from one of the less damaged dropships. Unfortunately, there had so far been no luck in getting it to work properly, and Spike wasn’t about to risk stealing one from the Mandalorians in case they could track it.
“We’ve managed to pick up one signal with Republic encryption codes,” the specialist in charge of repairing it explain, fiddling with a dial. “It’s just a message on repeat, so don’t expect to get much tactical information from it.”
“Better than nothing though,” Cortez noted, before static began to leak out of the radio, finally coalescing into a voice.
…break through the blockade. Message repeats. To all Republic forces engaged on and around Taris, this is General Revan. The siege is ongoing, and will continue till the planet falls. If you are stranded on the planet, stand firm and dig in, we will break through the blockade. Message repeats. To all Republic…
“That’s all we’ve got,” the specialist deactivated the radio and looked between Spike, Tarhal and Cortez. “The message just repeats itself, as far as I can tell.”
“Thank you,” Spike nodded. “Go and try to get the broadcaster working, if we can get a message out to Revan, or anyone really, it will be a lot of help.”
“Sir,” the man saluted, picking the radio up and heading back out of the room that was slowly beginning to fill up as various troopers began to walk in, their ration packs in hand. It was hard keeping everyone fed enough to keep them combat ready, but thanks to the Mandalorian supplies that they had ‘borrowed’, they were scraping by, if only by a hair's width.
“We’ve been on Taris for twelve days now Spike, we need to act,” Cortez turned back to face Spike after watching Loup and the rest of Wolf Squad tear into their rations. “And I’m not talking about another raid on a listening post.”
“You really think we’re ready to take on Alpha objective?” Spike asked, looking at the man.
“We’ve had a scout running recon ops for the last five days and he reports that there are a lot less Mandalorians there than before,” Cortez nodded.
“There’s only fifty of us remember,” Tarhal pointed out. “Forty two if you mean non-injured.”
“But we have two Jedi,” Cortez insisted. “We can do it, and we can give Revan a better shot at punching through the blockade.”
“You know, things were easier when you didn’t understand Shyriiwook,” Tarhal sighed.
“The pair of you shouldn’t have taught me then,” Cortez smirked. “The benefits of having a lot of free time I suppose.”
“He does have a point though Spike,” Tarhal sighed. “We can’t keep going like this, we’re running low on food, pretty soon standard issue blaster packs will be gone, and that’s just hoping that the Mando’s don’t finally manage to track us down. We need to get reinforcements, and alpha objective is the only way we’ll get that.”
“Very well then,” Spike sighed, before standing up and raising his voice. “Listen up! We’re moving out in an hour, prep your blasters, fuel up your packs and make sure you’re armour’s still in working order.”
“What are we hitting this time general?” Loup asked, standing up and looking over at Spike.
“We’re taking out their cannons,” Spike grinned.
***
Spike steadied himself on the top of one of the buildings as he stared across the open ground at a massive array of glorious weapon spread out before him like presents under a Hearts Warming tree. Granted it would have to be an extremely sadistic and mentally unstable child’s tree, but that was beside the point.
Spike had experience with planetary defence cannons and ground to orbit weapons in general, mostly from his time in the Outer Rim overseeing defences, as well as defending the cannons on Coruscant, but none of them compared to these.
There were nine in total, massive hyper-velocity cannons, capable of accelerating a ten ton slug into orbit and striking targets with the force of a hammer of the gods. Most ships shields' buckled under one of the shells, but these guns didn’t fire only one shell, they were linked together in threes, linking their fire and making sure that any ships that were struck were destroyed utterly.
More than that though, there were also generators here, each one powering a slew of orbital platforms dotted around the planet's orbit. This was one of six main installations dotted around the planet, but this was the one that was pointed at Revan’s fleet right now, which meant it was the one that would have to be destroyed to let the fleet though. They wouldn’t get another chance to take out a cannon after this anyway, the Mandalorians wouldn’t make the same mistake of leaving it under-manned again.
Reaching up to his ear, Spike managed to work his finger under the metal around his head to touch the communicator in his ear, activating a broadcast for the rest of the Special Forces formed up behind him.
“Alright, listen in. We’re going to go high, fly over the cannons and then drop down. According to the specifications the facility was designed to be run by a minimal crew of six in the main fire control centre. If we can take that, we can wrest command of the facility back to us.”
“And then we can use it to punch through the Mandalorian blockade,” Tarhal added, walking up beside Spike and placing a hand on his back. “You ready for this?”
“As I’ll ever be,” Spike nodded, shifting his weight as Tarhal clambered up onto his back, securing himself into the saddle and drawing his Lightsaber, not yet igniting the weapon.
“Looks like the boot's on the other foot now, eh Spike?” Tarhal chuckled.
“How so?”
“I remember when we were inexperienced and were defending a planetary defence installation from Mandalorian attacks so they couldn’t do exactly what we’re doing now. How times have changed.”
“The similarities had occurred to me yes,” Spike nodded solemnly. “Let hope this attack goes better than that defence.”
Flaring his wings, Spike walked to the edge of the building, before spreading his arms wide and falling forward, twisting in mid-air, before flapping his wings hard and heading upwards, joining the host of Special Forces soaring through the sky on tongues of fire.
Spike summoned his own Lightsabers to his hand as he flew, slowly brushing a claw across the worn activation studs. The weapons had seen more prolonged use in the past few weeks than they had in the last ten years, and when Revan finally got through, he’d have to set about finding a spare set of power cells, just in case. He’d hate to be left up shit creek without a paddle if they failed mid-fight.
With that thought, Spike tucked his wings in beside him, twisting once again as he pointed his head towards the facility, plunging down like a vengeful comet. Letting out a roar, Spike activated his Lightsabers, slicing through the neck of a Mandalorian before his enemy even knew he was under attack.
Instantly, Spike felt Tarhal’s weight leave his back as the Wookie dived off of him, leaping towards a group of enemies, his Lightsaber twirling in his grip as it deflected the shots aimed at him, before he was amongst the Mandalorians, hacking left and right with impunity.
Letting out another roar, Spike bathed the area in front of him in fire, before using the force to pull the trio of screaming, burning Mandalorians towards him and into range of his Lightsabers. Cutting them down, Spike raised his own voice, rearing up and flaring his wings to make himself even more imposing.
“Move forward! We need to take the tower now!”
With a surge, the Special Forces began to push forward, Wolf Squad spearheading the attack beside Spike and Tarhal, the Mandalorians being forced backwards at the sudden renewed ferocity of the attack. Man by man the Mandalorians fell to the blasters of Spike's forces, allowing the Special Forces to take step after step forward, until finally there were none left, leaving Spike and the others in an eerie silence outside of the blast door.
Spike laid his hand against the cool metal, gasping heavily as his vision was suddenly filled with visions of a past life. Turning, Spike saw no one behind him, finding himself alone in the courtyard of the defence installation. A second later, he felt a presence behind him, whirling around, teeth bared and Lightsabers ready to strike any enemy that thought it could sneak up on him.
Instead, he saw himself.
He wasn’t a General now though, he wasn’t the commander of the Special Forces or a Knight in the Jedi Order, he wasn’t even that old. Instead, he was still a teenager, a Padawan, blood covered, scared and letting out a silent roar, which slowly rose in volume until it mirrored Spikes current roar.
Slowly, as if he was trying to wade through treacle, young Spike began to move forward, his roar growing as the crack of a bullet sounded throughout the vision.
Whirling around, Spike screamed as he saw Asho standing in the path of the bullet. Time seemed to slow to even more of a crawl as Spike ran towards him, overtaking his younger self as he tried to grab hold of the unaware Twilek.
Grabbing hold of her, Spike turned his back, the bullet impacting and sending a painful jolt through his body, but he had Asho, and that was all that mattered as he collapsed to his knees. Smiling, he looked down at Asho, only for his eyes to harden as he saw the massive bullet hole torn in her head. Tears sprung to his eyes as he looked up at his younger self, the young drake raging and screaming as he killed anything that came near him, before suddenly collapsing, bloody wings ripping themselves out of his back in a sickening welt of blood and ripping flesh.
“Spike!” young Tarhal yelled as he ran forward. “Spike! Listen to me!”
“Spike! Spike!”
Spike was shaken back to reality as he felt a pair of hands on his shoulders as a voice continued to call out to him. Slowly, the world returned to normal, the vision of his younger self fading, only to be replaced by Tarhal, the Wookie shouting down at him.
“Spike! Get up now!”
“What’s going on?” Spike mumbled, staggering to his feet and clutching his back. “Why does my back hurt?”
“You were shot by a sniper you idiot, now come on, the doors are open,” Tarhal gestured to the inside of fire control centre. “Most of the others are already inside, Cortez is supervising taking control of the guns.”
“Good,” Spike nodded, wincing as he moved inside and reaching behind him. He could feel a hole in his back, and stuck his claws inside, wincing in pain as he dug into his flesh, before finally grabbing hold of the bullet and pulling it out, holding the large calibre bullet up in front of his eyes. “Big bullet. Must have been how it got through my back scales. They’re bloody thick.”
“Yeah, well maybe next time when someone yells sniper you should get down,” Tarhal pointed out. “What the hell happened, you froze up out there.”
“I saw Coruscant,” Spike whispered softly. “I…I didn’t want it to happen Tarhal, I didn’t want to lose her.”
“Of course you didn’t Spike,” Tarhal assured him, before a klaxon sounded throughout the building. A second later there were nine huge booms, each one following a second after the preceding shot as the cannons fired.
***
The Swiftsure
***
“What the hell was that?” Revan demanded, striding towards the forward viewport of the ship and staring out as three Mandalorian ships exploded, their shields offering them no protection whatsoever.
“It came from the planet sir,” one of the crewmen responded quickly. “From defence battery sigma-delta.”
“Looks like we have some help on the surface then,” Revan grinned beneath his mask. “Signal all ships to advance, I want to press this advantage, order dropships to converge on the defence battery, whoever's down there will need some sort of help I promise you."
***
Taris
***
“General, sensors indicate that the republic fleet is moving towards the planet,” Loup reported as Spike made his way into the control room.
“Good, keep firing,” Spike ordered, even as the guns roared once more, the massive sound still threatening to deafen people, despite the sound dampening around the room. “I don’t want you to stop until the Mandalorian fleet is in tatters.”
“Aye sir, that shouldn’t be too…sir! Incoming Mandalorian forces!” Loup bellowed, looking out of the window and readying his rifle.
“Wolf squad! With me!” Spike roared. “The rest of you, set up defences in here and be ready to defend the cannons. Rig them to blow as well, if we can’t hold them, we can at least deny them the use of them.”
“I’m coming with you Spike,” Tarhal shouted as he ran after Spike and Wolf squad.
“No, I need you to oversee defensive preparations,” Spike shook his head. “We’ll hold them off for as long as we can and then fall back inside and jam the doors.”
“Alright fine, but you stay alive you hear me,” Tarhal nodded, before turning and running back towards the control centre.
“What’s the plan Spike?” Loup asked as he jogged beside Spike.
“Hold them back for as long as we can,” Spike replied simply, drawing his Lightsabers as he came into sight of the door. Roaring, he broke into a sprint, the bright purple and white blades of his Lightsabers flaring into life as he dived at the first Mandalorians he saw. “Bring it on!”
There were plenty of Mandalorians, more than Spike would have liked to face, but he didn’t have a choice, and he couldn’t have stopped even if he wanted to as Desolation roared in savage glee inside his mind. He could already feel his darker side pushing up, trying to take control, but he forced him back down again, not willing to let him out even for an instant.
Stab. Thrust. Dodge. Crush. Fire. Roar. Shield. Stab. Slash. Block. Defend. Attack.
On and on it went, each kill only paving the way for Spike to step forward over the dead towards another foe. His body was being hammered with shots, but they were either blocked by his shields or were too small to get through his thick scales. Still, they hurt like hell, and even Spike couldn’t keep going for ever.
Suddenly, the Mandalorians around him thinned out, leaving him standing on a mound of corpses, brandishing his weapons as he saw Loup and the others fighting at the doorway. With an apologetic shake of his head, Loup took a step back, before firing into the control panel, the doors sliding shut behind him, sealing him and the others inside, and leaving Spike stuck outside.
Sighing, Spike took a step forward, only for the Mandalorians to part, allowing a man in shinning golden armour to move into the circle of troops, a large sword held in one hand. Spike snarled as he saw the man, instantly knowing who it was, even though he had never laid eyes on him in person. He had seen him in a vision however, back on Cathar. This was the man who had consigned an entire species to the grave without a seconds thought, who had gunned down a woman when she had stood up for them.
“Cassus Fett,” Spike snarled.
“It appears you know who I am,” Fett murmured, stopping and placing his sword tip on the floor, resting his hands on the pommel. “I hate to be at a disadvantage.”
“I don’t speak to murderers,” Spike growled, before relenting as he looked around the Mandalorians surrounding him, and realising he didn’t really have a reason not to tell him. “Spike.”
“Spike? I’ve heard that name before, almost a year ago. You were on Ranox were you not?”
“I was.”
“Then it seems that saying I’m a murderer is slightly hypocritical, coming from the Beast of Ranox,” Cassus replied simply. “Look around you Spike, how many have you killed today alone? How many more died because of your orders? You have killed as easily as I have, so tell me, other than the acceptance I have for my kills, what are the differences between us.”
“I didn’t come here to debate morality with a Mandalorian,” Spike spat. “You want to kill me? Get on with it! But don’t compare yourself to me.”
“I will kill you, but you deserve an honourable death before I take back the cannons,” Fett sighed. “Fight me fairly, and if you win, I promise you my men will not kill you.”
“When I win, they wouldn’t be able to,” Spike snarled, readying his weapons.
You could hear a pin drop as the crowded Mandalorians waited for the pair to begin. Slowly, Spike and Cassus began to circle each other, sizing the other one up as they waited for someone to make the first move. He was a full two heads shorter than Spike, and less muscular, but he looked like he was fast and lithe, as well as being just as experienced as Spike. His sword seem to glow and hum with an eerie blue haze, and it let out sparks as he scraped it along the floor for a split second.
Spike moved first, the blades of Dusk and Elusive held along his arms defensively as he charged forward, colliding with him and pushing him to the wall of the fire control centre, the Mandalorians scurrying to avoid getting involved in the duel. He held his own sword between the Lightsabers and his body, grunting as Spike put more and more pressure on his weapons, before lashing out with his foot, sending Spike staggering back towards the crowd, his back searing in pain as he struggled to remain upright.
Cassus ran forward, eager to follow up his kick, and began to thrust at Spike with his sword, twirling the deadly weapon in his hands and keeping Spike on the defensive. Every time their weapons collided, there was a loud hum and a small energy discharge, and Spike realised that the weapon was a vibrosword. That thing would be able to cut through even his scales if enough force was put behind it, and Spike didn’t want to test the theory out.
Again and again he thrust his sword home, only to have Spike block the attacks, before he lunged forward, over stepping and allowing Spike a moment’s respite. Taking the chance instantly, Spike jumped into the air, flipping over Fett’s head and grabbing hold of him, using his wings to power the somersault and fling Fett away from him, sending the Mandalorian commander into a group of soldiers, scattering them as Spike landed, coughing slightly as he clutched his back.
Snarling in rage, Cassus got back to his feet, even as Spike felt Desolation pushing harder and harder at his mind, already trying to take control and turning one of Spikes eyes a solid yellow colour. Cassus drew his pistol at the same moment Spike deactivated his Lightsabers, rushing towards Cassus and avoiding the shots from the heavy blaster, before swinging his fist at his opponent.
His claws scraped across the helmet, finally succeeding in ripping it from his head, before Spike followed up with another blow to his head, knocking a single bloody tooth from his mouth, before he was sent sprawling to the floor as Spike whipped his tail under Cassus’s legs.
Spike looked down at the man, taking in his features and committing them to memory, even as he prepared to strike him down. He looked like he was middle aged, his dark brown hair plastered across his forehead by the sweat that had built up during the fight. Even in such a position, his bright blue eyes seem to pierce into Spikes soul, like a predator eyeing up a piece of meat.
“Looks like…you’ve lost,” Spike panted, drawing his Lightsabers once more.
“Not quite,” Cassus smirked, before raising his gauntleted hand, allowing Spike to see one of the weapons there.
Spike was thrown back as the small rocket slammed into his chest, managing to get a weak shield up as the rocket exploded, but only managing to lessen the damage, leaving yet another crater in his chest scales beside the one caused by a shell on Eres III. Groaning, he forced himself to his feet, summoning one of his Lightsabers just in time to block a strike from Cassus.
Blow after blow was rained down on Spike, the dragon managing to get to his feet as he limped backwards, only to have his Lightsaber knocked from his hand and a sword pointed at his throat.
“You fought well,” Cassus panted. “I liked that helmet though. Now I’ll have to get another one.”
“Go…to…hell,” Spike managed, coughing up a wad of blood as he looked up, a smile managing to crest his face.
Whipping round, Cassus looked up at where Spike was looking, catching sight of scores of dropships, each one speeding towards the cannons, bearing the marks of the Republic. Snarling, Cassus turned back to face Spike, raising his voice to his men as he did so.
“Fall back, we don’t want to be there when they land. But you Spike, you’re not getting away.”
“Sure I’m…not,” Spike chuckled, before lunging forward with the last remaining vestiges of his strength.
It was a futile effort, but it took Cassus by surprise, knocking the man back even as the first dropship came into land. It didn’t last though, as Cassus quickly recovered, bringing his left fist into Spikes chest, perfectly striking the gaping wound left by the missile.
Spike let out a blood curdling scream as for the second time in his life he felt a Mandalorians hand inside his chest, staggering forward, only for Cassus to slam the pommel of his sword down onto Spikes back as he passed, hitting the bullet hole and forcing Spike to his knees.
“We will continue this, Beast of Ranox,” Cassus whispered softly, leaning down beside Spike.
“Just…kill…me,” Spike groaned, his claw weakly clutching at the air as if he was searching for a weapon.
“Not this time,” Cassus shook his head, before disappearing from Spikes view. “But I will take a trophy, a reminder of this fight.
Spike wanted to ask what the man meant, before he felt a hand on the tip of his tail, roughly tugging at it and making it lie flat. Spike weakly struggled for a second, before letting out yet another scream, longer and louder than any he had done before. His entire world was agony, pure unbridled pain putting all his other injuries to shame, even as he saw boot clad feet running over to him.
Spike could hear shouting, but he couldn’t make any sense of it, instead feeling warm blood seeping out around him, surrounding him in a pool of the crimson liquid, before his body could finally take no more, and he blacked out.
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Finding this story makes me excited.
Finding comments talking about Revan within the story makes me even more excited.
I'm surprised he managed to cut Spike's tail.
I wonder if Spike wll get a mechanic tail to replace the lost tip, I hope he'll add lasers to it
I also can't wait to see Revan's reaction when he sees that Spike is still alive.
4603078
Yes he is.
Deleted your comment as it contains spoilers. Sorry.
Holy cow isn't this the second time spike lost his tail
4603181
Ummm, I don't think so.
When do you think the last time was?
That was shocking.
I hope Spike can either grow it back or can get a mechanical one.
4603258 umm I think back when he was a prisoner of the mandalorians on one of the lava planets I think
4603420
It was a suggestion. The Mandalorian said he'd take it when he came back, but Spike escaped, so it never got cut off.
4603098 Its alright, but, I love this story even more! He is my favorite character. Now I'm imagining Spike and him teaming up
4603559
Oh I know, he is an amazing guy. He's actually one of the reasons I decided to set the story in this time period rather than the Clone Wars era.
Wow, this was a great chapter, but I was hoping to see desolation.
4603439 oh ok
two things kept crawling at my mind while reading this: Cassus's main strength seems to be his underhanded tactics and desire to harm weakened things, and why didn't Spike let Desolation out after the shields were closed on him? Sure the drop fleet was closing in, but he was heavily wounded and greatly outnumbered, especially with the bastard looking to see the beast... I guess it's to have hum underestimate Spike in the next round after Spike and Desolation come to an agreement to keep the troops under his command alive... I guess
that and how does the tail being taken hurt worse than anything else he went through? nervous system?
4603695
The tail would probably have an awful lot of nerves in it, and having them all roughly cut through in a single instant would probably be more painful than anything else in the short term. Sure in total the torture would hurt more, but that was more slow pain over a long period of time.
4603695
4603797
Try pinching very hard the skin over your elbow, you'll feel next to nothing because there's no nerves there.
But 4603396 brought up an interesting point. Will his tail grow again or will he get a mechanical one? If it's the later, then I hope he adds some cool feature to it, like missiles, lasers, radar detection, candy storage. The possibilities are endless.
4603847
Candy storage? Damn it, you guessed my nefarious plot to turn Spike into the greatest confectionery smuggler the galaxy has ever known.
Seriously though, I have a lot of plans for Spike. Not all of them pretty, unfortunately.
4603857 Spike must become a food smuggler. That's his fate. That's his destiny
I don't understand what you mean by "pretty unfortunatelly".
4603921
Well what I've got planned isn't always going to be very nice. Got a long story to go, I should be able to add in quite a few 'not nice' bits.
4603932 I'm sorry for being annoying when it comes to this, but I think you mean "Not all of them are pretty or fortunate."
4603986
I mean things will go to shit for Spike. Things will get fucked up. A lot of bad stuff is going to happen.
4603988 I know what you mean now. Don't worry about that. It's just that the sentence "pretty unfortunatelly" makes no sense, that's why I tried to correct it to correct it. Sorry for the confusion.
As for the subject matter, I'm looking foward to see the horrible things Spike has to face. For some bizarre reason, I love to see my favorite character in every series/fandom to suffer a lot.
4604016
Oh I know, so do I.
It seems to happen a lot in all of my stories. Maybe this is saying something about me...
4603988 as long as he comes out of it more badass than ever, I'm all for it... plus, I'd like to know your perspective on this: how old would you say he can live? Because I like to think he's immortal in terms of old age, like lobsters
4604034 As far as my head canon goes, Dragons keep aging until they are finally killed off. They don't die of old age, they just keep existing and getting stronger. The older a Dragon gets, the thicker its scales, to the point where they are next to impregnable. Of course, that takes thousands of years, and Dragons usually kill each other off before that happens.
That's just my opinion though, no need to go shouting it around.
4604047 on the contrary, that's what I was hoping for... all I can really say left is that I love this story and I can't wait to see how much more badass you'll make Spike (you're awesome at it) , and continuing to ponder both about Equestria (if it'll ever be mentioned again) and what'll happen when he's gigantic
4603569 Wait, if it is set in this era, shouldn't Fett be dead? I distinctly remember you being able to buy his armor off a merchant. Granted, it could've been a replica....
4604081 You can get the armour in SWKOTOR 1. That's set after the Mandalorian Wars. During the war he was the Mandalores right hand man, was responsible for turning the Mandalorians from crusaders into a true army, and eventually became the most wanted man in Republic space, even more so than the Mandalore himself.
4604095 oh, this is set during the Wars, Ok, gotcha, so, will Spike participate in the Jedi Civil War?
4604126
Act 3 covers that.
Inconsequential: How can a 'thump' be long?
Sorry for nitpicking but you should really run this chapter by an editor or read it again by yourself. Found some words that were spelled wrong and as the lazy bum I am, I won't point them out... please don't hit me.
drawing spikes attention to the old clock
he turn and shrugged at Moonstone
he’d have to set about finding a space set of power cells, just in case
I don’t speak to murders
1. Forgot to capitalise.
2. Turned.
3. Spare.
4. Murderers.
Compared to;
Welp, that happened
Me thinks something might have gotten lost in translation from Shyriiwook and we're listening from Cortez's view
I'm starting to wonder if a bacta tank will be Spike's second home from now on. And if he's going to get half of his body replaced with mechanics. But, technically Spike is a type of lizard so... tail grows back?
More nitpicks, sorry:
hit them when their weak.
they're
drawing Spikes attention
Spike's
if only by a hairs width
Since "hair's width" is written as two words, the apostrophe is necessary.
hearts warming tree
Hearth's Warming tree
Spike has experience
had
Most ships shields buckled
ships'
around the planets orbit
planet's
the boots on the other foot now
boot's
up shit creak without a paddle
creek
the blasters of Spikes forces
Spike's
he couldn’t have stopped even if he wanted to as Desolation in glee inside his mind.
This is incomplete: Desolation (somethinged) in glee.
4606447
Thanks. All fixed now.
Wow, that means that Fett is like, 12 feet tall, right?
4614909
Fuck, meant. Smaller. God damn it.
good story also i wonder.
will Spike eventually return to Equestria and see his old friends?
if so i wonder how Twilight will react on the tech Spike has.... after a long tearful reunion.
4631321
All I will say is Spike returns to Equestria in act 5.
4632539
ah ok...... but thats so long time to wait
..... oh well better get reading faster then
4632647
Well O'm away till the 27th, so nothing new until at least then, probably a lot later
This story is MARVELLOUS! Spike in the Mandalorian Wars? You have no idea how much I am nerdgasming. Perhaps a HK droid could show up soon. HK-24s were active before and during the Mandalorian Wars and there's always HK-47 in the Jedi Civil War and beyond. Revan, the Exile, Alek/Malak and Canderous have already shown up so why not? Just to finish this off, FOR MANDALORE!
4636391
I have plans for other characters. This is only Act 2 by the way, we still have Act 3, 4 and 5 to get more characters in.
Vode'an
4637352 Statement: I shall continue to watch this meatbag. Threat: You better not put this story on Hiatus otherwise I'll introduce you to my Aratech Sniper Rifle with a Tri-Light scope. Query: When can we expect the next update?
4638301
Information: I am not currently in the country, and so do not have access to my laptop. Clarification: I will be unable to update the story until around August. Statement: i apologise if this is an undesired response. If you have an objection, you are more than welcome to take it up with a Heavy Pistol.
4639296
Statement: That is not entirely adequate. Smug Statement: Your Heavy Pistol will not do much to my armoured Durasteel chassis. Threat: For your sake meatbag, I would continue ASAP.
4640038
I don't think it is... That game takes place 4000 years later. I don't think this ship is from EAW.
4640392
Well, it does appear in FOC.
But im not too well versed in canon anyway.
Note
I meant the ship displayed is from FOC- if the ship is Crusader class (The ship from 4000 years later) , which it seems to be, it would be 4000 years early to its canonial first appearance.
4640565 Which ship is it? Can I get a name?