Cyberniesis
Spike screamed as he felt something sharp plunge into his chest, bringing him crashing back into reality, his eyes snapping open in an instant, only to be blinded by the sudden light that hit them. Clenching his eyes shut, Spike tried to calm himself down, focusing on the pain in his body. Something was very wrong here, and not just the pain. His entire body felt different, almost like it had when he had been on…
“Finally awake?” a terrifyingly familiar voice sounded, piercing Spikes mind more than any blade could.
Forcing his eyes open, Spike focused on the Mandalorian before him, his pupils shrinking to pin-pricks as he strained against the restraints that held him to the torture table on Maryx Minor.
“N-No…no please no,” he whispered, staring at the Mandalorian. “I saw you die, I…I killed you!”
“Did you now?” the Mandalorian smirked, holding up a small syringe. “Funny thing this. Tryptamine-neurotoxin 251-NBOMe. Side effects include limb pains, extreme blood-thinning and potential for strokes. Of course, that’s not its primary function.”
“I killed you!” Spike roared, before coughing violently and looking down at his body. None of the scars he’d taken in the Mandalorian Wars were on his body, and Spike struggled to get his mind in order. “Tryptamine…neurotoxin…251-NBOMe…produces…”
“Hallucinations. The illusion of hope,” he laughed, before advancing towards Spike, roughly holding his head back and forcing his left eye open, allowing Spike to see a vicious looking knife. “And now it’s my turn to take away that hope, and whatever bits of you I want. One by one. Starting with this.”
Spike screamed once more as the knife was plunged into the soft flesh of his eye.
***
“Oof, now that was a bit harder than I expected,” the Mandalorian grunted, dropping the bloody leg beside the other body parts that littered the room, before picking up Spikes Lightsaber and running the blade across the ragged stump, cauterizing the wound. “You really are an amazing creature. Your scales, your additional organs and your brilliant pain tolerance. You are making my life far too fun.”
Spike slowly focused his one eye on his tormentor, barely keeping him in focus as blood trickled into his vision, leaking from the skin that had been exposed when some of his scales had been removed. His breaths were ragged now, his chest rising and falling irregularly as he hung from his one remaining arm.
“That’s right, pass out,” the Mandalorian sneered, before picking up another syringe and jamming it into Spike. “You don’t mind if I keep this here do you? I need some rest before I take your arm and tail.”
Spike didn’t care anymore, he couldn’t focus on anything, not even the pain that was coursing through his body as he slowly slipped from consciousness, silently praying that he wouldn’t wake up again.
***
“M…Moonstone?” Spike called out weakly, looking around the inside of his mind, the darkness staring back at him. Spikes voice began to break as hopelessness set in, his final desire to talk to someone had failed, and now the sheer darkness of his own mind really hit him.
“Don’t leave me alone!” Spike roared as load as he could, coming out as more of a rasp than anything else. “Please…I don’t…I don’t want to be alone. I don’t want to go back.”
“Then don’t,” a voice whispered softly, coming from both everywhere are nowhere at the same time.
“Who…what?” Spike babbled.
“Give up. Let yourself die,” the voice echoed again.
“Can’t…got to help…Republic,” Spike shook his head weakly.
“It’s over. You’re over,” the voice insisted, and this time, Spike didn’t even try to fight it, slipping away into the bliss of death.
***
“We’ve lost him!” a doctor yelled, grabbing hold of a screen and scrutinising it carefully. “Secondary heart flat lining, brain activities are pushing into the red-zone fast.”
“R7, prep injections,” another doctor called, grabbing a pair of defibrillator paddles. “Fifth resuscitation. Clear!”
Spikes body convulsed as the paddles were brought down onto his chest, the ECG monitor briefly beeping before flat lining again. “Again!” the paddles were brought down again, and this time, the ECG began to emit a steady, if weak, beeping as Spikes heart surged back into life.
“Ok, back to work,” the doctor replaced the paddles as he spoke. “Stabilise any organs we can, we’ll try and save as much biological matter as we can. Otherwise hook him up to more life support and prep for stage one internal cyberniesis.”
Above the operating room, Revan observed the proceedings, looking down on them with his head cocked to the side. Thanks to his mask, it was impossible to tell if he was concerned, anxious or any other emotion, but it was safe to say that he was very interested in the fate of Spike. Reaching forward, he activated the intercom.
“Make sure he survives, and inform me if his condition changes.”
With that, Revan turned and swept from the observation platform, heading towards the less intensive care units of the field hospital. The building was full of wounded soldiers and Jedi, but very few were needing full intensive care. As much as he hated to admit it, he did owe Spike a debt, according to his demolition experts and reports from Sergeant Loup and Knight Tarhal. The bomb Spike got caught up in would have wiped out him and half the army with it. Instead it just hit Spike, and whatever he did made the explosion far less effective.
“Revan,” Malak called, striding up beside Revan and keeping pace. “Heard Spike died on the operating table. Was is it, six times?”
“This makes five,” Revan corrected him.
“Yeah right, five,” Malak nodded. “Why?”
“Why what?” Revan asked, not breaking pace.
“You know exactly what.”
“And you know exactly why,” Revan shot back.
“Why are you trying so hard to keep him alive?” Malak snapped, blocking the entranceway to the door Revan was trying to go through, before looking around and lowering his voice. “You have the perfect opportunity to be rid of him, why not take it?”
“What do you want me to do Malak?” Revan asked calmly. “Let him die, say complications made saving him impossible?”
“It would be pretty easy given his condition,” Malak nodded. “You wanted a sure fire way to get him out of our faces without destroying morale, this is it. He dies a hero and we have a martyr.”
“No, he lives as the Jedi who saved my life, and yours, and half the army's,” Revan snapped. “I don’t like Spike, he’s impulsive and reckless, but I owe him my life, and he’s loyal to the Republic. I can’t ask for more than that, and I only outrank him on a technicality. He’s older than both of us and he’s fought more than us.”
“So now you want to put us in bed with him?” Malak asked with a chuckle.
“No, I want to keep him as a powerful ally,” Revan pushed past Malak. “I’ll hear no more about this Malak, understood?”
“Understood,” he grunted, before turning and stalking away from Revan.
***
Spike moaned softly as he was dragged reluctantly back into life. He was sure he had felt himself slip away, and yet he’d been unable to even die properly.
“P-please,” his voice was barely audible over an odd beeping, but he dismissed it. It was just going to be a trick, and as soon as he opened his remaining eye, he’d see his tormentor again.
“Doctor? Take a look at these readings,” a voice called out, Spike barely making it out.
“That’s odd,” another voice answered. “He’s not supposed to be waking up yet.”
“Well he’s waking up now. Want me to get the sedative?”
“No,” the second voice replied, before Spike felt something brush against his head. “He’s been out for too long, let him come back.”
“No,” Spike managed, trying to brush the hand off him. “Please, please no.”
“He’s panicking.”
“I see that,” the second voice snapped. “Spike, you’re safe, you’re alive. Calm down.”
“No!” he roared. “Don’t…stop…harvest.”
“Harvest?” the first voice asked.
“Spike! Wake up!”
“No!” Spike screamed, his eye flaring open and looking up at the doctor, his shoulder sagging. “Not again….Please.”
“Spike, you’re safe, I promise you,” the man looking down at him smiled softly, before turning to his compatriot. “Go and find General Revan. He’ll want to know.”
The other man nodded, turning and leaving the room as the main doctor looked back at Spike. “General, please calm down, you’re stabilised for now. I’m doctor Charka,”
“Not real, none of it…not real,” Spike whispered, focusing on Charka.
“I’m sorry Spike, you’re not dreaming,” Charka apologised.
“Tryptamine…neurotoxin…251-NBOMe,” Spike shook he had. “Just another trick.”
“Tryp…” the doctor began, shaking her head. “Spike, we didn’t give you any hallucinogens.”
“Not you!” Spike roared, reaching up with his right arm, only to find it strapped down.
“Spike,” an authoritative voice rang out as Revan hurried into the room. “Thank you doctor. Can you give us the room?”
“Yes general. Be careful, he thinks…” Charka began.
“I heard doctor, 251-NBOMe,” Revan replied. “Now please.”
Charka nodded, before walking from the room, the door sliding closed behind her. Revan sighed, walking towards Spike. “Spike please listen to me. You’re stable, you’re alive, you have not been drugged.”
“He drugged me,” Spike shook his head, his voice shaking. “Back there. Gives me hope.”
“Where?” Revan asked, cocking his head to one side.
“M-Maryx,” Spike shuddered.
“Oh dear,” Revan sighed. “Spike, please. The base on Maryx was destroyed, everyone who was there died, save you. You’re not there Spike, it’s a bad dream.”
“Giving me hope,” Spike muttered.
“Alright, let’s try something else,” Revan sighed, looking around the room and moving towards the medical droid. “R7, synthesise 251-NBOMe, twenty five milligram does and mix in 423-NBOme-2.”
“Affirmative general,” the medical droid nodded, turning and moving towards a chem-synthesiser.
“Spike, this concoction can be fatal, but only if you’re already dosed on the primary drug,” Revan explained, taking the syringe and holding it up. “If you think you’ve been drugged, don’t take it. If you want me to prove you haven’t, just say the word.”
Spike chuckled weakly, before nodding. “Fatal…sounds nice.”
“Contrary to some beliefs Spike, I don’t want to see you dead,” Revan shook his head, before gently injecting the cocktail of drugs into Spike. “Now, we’ll see how far this goes.”
Spike smiled, letting his head fall back against the bed he was in. He could feel it coming, the lethargic approach of the inevitable bliss. The tranquillity of death. Silently, he closed his eye.
“I told you Spike,” Revan removed the needle. “It was a dream Spike.”
“Death is a dream Revan,” Spike whispered, opening his eye. “Revan…can I…ask you a favour?”
“Depending on what it is Spike,” Revan nodded.
“I’m on life support, aren’t I?” Spike asked, refusing to look to his left, trying to ignore the fact that he couldn’t feel anything in ninety nine percent of his body.
“Yes you are,” Revan nodded.
“Unplug it,” Spike pleaded.
“No.”
“Why not?” Spike looked up at Revan again.
“Spike I’ll let you in on a secret,” Revan sighed, pulling a chair up next to Spikes bed. “After your first accident, you got difficult remember?” Spike didn’t answer, so Revan continued. “You’d be a bit of a wild card before that, but damn useful. Then you got out of the bacta tank and went against my battle plan. It could have backfired in a million different ways.”
“It did,” Spike whispered softly.
“In a way, yes it did,” Revan nodded solemnly. “The main point though is Malak and I, especially Malak, were thinking of possible ways to remove you from command. I just wanted to remove you back to Republic space.”
“Then unplug my life support and get rid of me, please,” Spike begged him. “I don’t want to look Revan. I don’t know if I’m here or on Maryx, but I know losing my tail was nothing like this. I don’t want to keep going like this Revan.”
Spike, stop asking, I’m not unplugging you,” Revan said firmly. “I did want to remove you, and yes this would be a great time to do that, but you saved my life. I’m not forgetting that Spike, and I’m not forgetting the fact that you led an attack into the enemy base and broke it open. I need you, Spike; I can’t lose any more commanders. I’m not losing you.”
“I’m nothing,” Spike muttered, closing his eye. “I’ve got nothing left to give you, Revan.”
“You’ve got everything to give me Spike, and to give yourself,” Revan insisted, pressing a few buttons on a datapad. “Look at the mirror Spike.”
“Don’t make me, Revan,” Spike shook his head, keeping his eye closed.
“Look at the mirror, Spike,” Revan insisted.
Shaking his head, Spike slowly opened his eye again, looking at the mirror that was now above him.
“There’s…there’s nothing left Revan,” Spike sobbed, closing his eye again, trying to get the image that was burned into his brain out of his mind.
The right side of his face was mostly fine, only missing a few small scales, the same with his right arm, but that was it. His legs and his left arm were just gone, his torso cut in a diagonal line from just above where his shoulder should have been to his waist on the right. His wings looked like they were still intact, but that was little comfort to Spike at the moment.
“Spike, get a hold of yourself,” Revan was firm as he placed a hand on Spike.
“Get a grip?! Get a fucking grip?!” Spike roared, reaching up and grabbing hold of Revan's throat, pain surging through his body as he lifted himself up, the strap that had been holding him down tightening around his arm before being ripped from its mooring. Normally he’d have forced Revan to collapse due to his weight, but due to recent events he was obviously a lot lighter, and Revan managed to stay upright.
“Look at me Revan!” Spike screamed. “There is nothing left! I have nothing left to give you, or the army, or the Jedi, or the Republic. I wouldn’t even class as a corpse normally, I’m just a ruined hunk of meat. Do you see Revan? Just…look at me.”
Spike trailed off, relaxing his grip and leaning back onto the bed, his shoulder sagging as the fight in his eyes died once more.
“I am looking at you Spike,” Revan massaged his neck as he spoke, nodding in approval. “I’m looking at someone so strong that he could probably kill me with just one hand, and nothing else. Now Spike, I know this is hard, but is this going to beat you? You lost your home, but you fought on. You survived Maryx and you thought on. You even lost your tail, but you fought harder. Nothing has broken you yet, remember that.”
Revan turned towards the door as he finished speaking, pausing for a moment in the doorway.
“You’ve been prepped for stage one cyberniesis so far Spike, that’s just essential life support in case you don’t know, no limbs. Decide if your fire’s gone out by then.”
With that Revan left the room, leaving Spike alone once more, the beeping on his heart rate monitor keeping him awake as he rested his head back on the bed, letting out a soft sob as he waited for the doctors to return, taking him even further away from the dragon he had once been.
***
Spike took a shuddering breath, clenching his teeth together as his new lungs activated for the first time, the cybernetics grinding into life. His first breath for a week without an external machine connected to him was a final start to the ray of light that people had been telling him would come from this, but he still highly doubted that being more machine than dragon would be any sort of life.
“How does that feel general?” a droid asked, removing a probe from Spike’s side and closing the interface port.
“Shit,” Spike wheezed, his voice coming out rough and just as mechanical as the droids.
“It will take some time to get used to,” the droid nodded, turning to face the door as it slid open. “Doctor Charka, the patient is ready for you.”
“Thank you,” Charka nodded, dismissing the droid and sitting down beside Spike. “How are you feeling Spike?”
“The droid just asked that,” Spike shot back testily, before sighing and taking another shuddering breath. “Shit doc, I feel shit. I sound like a fucking droid, I’ve got no legs, I’ve got one arm, and I don’t even know what you had to replace inside me.”
“You mean no one’s told you what we… what we replaced?” Charka asked in astonishment. “Right, well I’m sorry that nobody went through this with you. It’s usually standard procedure.”
“They tried, I didn’t want to hear it until you’d already put them in,” Spike shook his head. “So tell me, what’s left inside me? For that matter what used to be inside me? Could be interesting to know, might learn more about dragons.”
“Alright. Just remember Spike, this may be hard to take in quickly. Take all the time you need, you’ve been through a lot,” Charka picked up a datapad and began to look over the screen. “Right. When you were brought in we managed to save your secondary lung and parts of your tertiary lung, both kidneys, most of your intestines, both small and large, and a liver. From what we could tell from your internals, you had a primary, secondary and tertiary lung. The tertiary lung was…odd.”
“Define odd,” Spike grunted.
“As well as having parts to actually take in oxygen and transfer it to the blood, it seemed to have some sort of ability to self-photosynthesis,” Charka mused. “It was fascinating.”
“Self-photosynthesis, the creation of oxygen,” Spike managed a small smile as he spoke. “So, would explain a lot.”
“Like what?” Charka asked, eager to keep Spike talking and in what seemed like a happy mood.
“A little unaided spacewalk I took a few decades ago,” Spike winced as he laughed again. “Fuck me, laughing hurts.”
“Your lungs are still adjusting to your system, learning the signals from your brain to act like your biological ones,” Charka explained.
“Great,” Spike rolled his eyes, before frowning. “Charka… doctor. You said my tertiary lung was interesting. You mean is right?”
“Partially,” Charka sighed. “We had you hooked up to life-support as soon as you came in, and we thought we saved your third lung and second heart, but they took too much strain. They weren’t designed to work for that long on their own. I’m sorry Spike.”
For a few moments, Spike was silent, before he snorted and rolled his eye, scowling.
“I’m not even surprised anymore. Just tell me what I had, and what’s still biological.”
“Yes sir,” Charka nodded. “You had three lungs, two hearts, two stomachs, small and large intestines, two livers, two kidneys, and an organ I’ve never seen before at the base of your throat. It seemed to synthesis a biological variation of napalm as well as another unknown substance. It glowed a dull green which matched something that looked like a ray-shield around your damaged tissue.”
“Tell me you managed that,” Spike muttered.
“That’s fine,” Charka nodded. “Surprisingly so actually, almost every other part of your body has some strain on it, but this was a hundred percent. Not a mark on it. The only thing about it is the unknown substance is glowing as brightly at the moment.”
“Great,” Spike sighed. “I have a feeling I’m not going to like this next question. What’s bionic now?”
“Two lungs were fully replaced, your third lung is ninety three percent cybernetic with bits of biological matter protected within. Both of your hearts are bionic, one of your livers, both stomachs and a few patches in your small and large intestines. Because of your stomachs we had to strengthen your digestive tract to make sure that it didn’t split when you’re eating. I’ve been told you’ve been known to eat gems, that should still be possible.”
“I haven’t eaten a gem in half a decade. Goddess, I could go for one right now,” Spike muttered.
“Interestingly enough,” Charka smiled, pulling out a small cloth covered object and placing it beside Spike. “General Tarhal found this, said it was a get well present if you woke up.”
Spike smiled as a small tear grew in his eye, before he gently unwrapped the gem, revealing a beautiful emerald. Slowly raising it to his mouth, Spike managed to take a small bite out of it, crunching it into dust before swallowing, much to the fascination of doctor Charka.
“Amazing,” she murmured. “You are one of the more amazing creatures I’ve ever known Spike. I’m truly sorry we couldn’t have met under better circumstances.”
“Yeah, so am I doc, so am I,” Spike nodded. “So tell me, what’s next?”
“Stage two cyberniesis,” Charka replied simply. “So far we’ve replaced internals. General Revan is personally making sure that your cybernetics are military grade and that they’ll be able to stand up to combat. We’ll be able to actually tell you what’s going to happen first and get your input. Again I’m sorry we couldn’t do that for stage one, but you were delirious by the time we arrived. We had to sedate you and operate quickly.”
“Thanks,” Spike sounded bitter as he replied. “Tell Revan he can keep his military grade shit. I’m done.”
“I’m sorry?” Charka asked.
“I said I’m done,” Spike snapped. “Finished, over, resigning. I’ve done my tour, I’ve seen more my share of action. I’m not immortal, no matter how much I used to tell myself I was. Why should I keep going in this war when it’s literally cost me an arm and a leg? And a tail, and my other leg, and fuck loads of organs, and I’m guessing my cock and balls as well. I will never fuck anything because of this fucking war and Cassus fucking Fett, so tell me, why should I keep fighting?”
“I can’t help you there Spike,” Charka sighed. “I can only fix you, I can’t give you the will to fight, nor can I tell you if it’s the right thing to do or not. You’ll have to find that out on your own.”
“Than…” Spike began, before coughing violently, leaning over the lip of the bed and retching, before shaking his head and looking back at Charka. “Thanks, now get me some way to move around, I want to see something.”
“Spike, I don’t think that’s…”
“I don’t give a fuck if it’s a good idea or not,” Spike snarled. “Get me some way to move around and let me have some time myself for fucks sake. I’m not going to be dying anytime soon, that would be far too easy. I already did and you brought me back.”
“You sound bitter,” Charka picked up her datapad and began typing on the screen.
“Just get me the damn chair and leave me alone,” Spike muttered, before lapsing into a sullen silence.
***
Tarhal strode through the corridors of the hospital, scattering doctors out of his way as he walked by, barely paying attention to them. He had already checked on the few Special Forces members who had been injured on their latest clean-up run and had been assured that they would all make a full recovery, so now there was only one person he wanted to see.
“Doctor Charka,” he called out as he spotted the woman in question, making his way towards her.
“General Tarhal, good to see you as always,” Charka nodded in greeting. “Your men were successful again I presume?”
“The men were,” Tarhal corrected her pointedly. “I’m here to see Spike, which room is he in?”
“He isn’t.”
“He’s in stage two surgery already?” Tarhal asked in surprise.
“No, he just refused to stay in a room,” Charka replied. “He demanded a repulsor-chair and went to the roof.”
“And you let him do that?” Tarhal asked in amazement. “You’re supposed to be responsible for him.”
“It’s easy for you to say,” Charka shot back. “You’re a Wookie, and he was still bigger than you.”
“He’s got one arm and a pair of wings,” Tarhal pointed out. “He’s not a threat to anyone at the moment except himself.”
“With all due respect, General, we’ll have to disagree on that point,” Charka handed him a datapad as well as a respirator. “He wants to be alone, but follow this and you’ll find him. Take the respirator too, just in case.”
“Thank you,” Tarhal grabbed hold of the datapad and respirator, before brushing past Charka, following the datapad until he finally reached the door to the roof, keying in the combination and emerging into the soft moonlight.
“Tarhal, I did say I wanted to be alone, but I’ll let it slide this time,” Spike called out, looking over from the other side of the roof and sighing.
Tarhal still shuddered as he looked at Spike, time doing little to get him used to seeing his friend in a state like this, even with metal caps and ports covering up a lot of the raw flesh, fusing directly with his scales. He quickly made his way over to Spike, sitting down and dangling his legs over the edge of the building, looking down at the street far below.
“You know Spike, it’s not a hundred percent safe up here,” Tarhal began. “Maybe you should come back inside before…”
“I get hurt again?” Spike finished for him, before smiling weakly. “Tarhal, I don’t think I could be more hurt right now.”
“You could die,” Tarhal pointed out.
“I hope so,” Spike muttered.
“Don’t you dare Spike, don’t you dare,” Tarhal said forcefully. “You’re alive, and you better remember that.”
“I am remembering that. I very time I struggle to breath, I'm remembering that,” Spike nodded, his voice sounding hollow. “What happened Tarhal? I’m trying to remember things but… everything’s fuzzy.”
“You didn’t ask the doctors? Or Revan?” Tarhal asked.
“Didn’t seem right,” Spike shrugged as best he could. “I remember you being there with me just before the bomb, something about Cassus Fett, then pain and nothing.”
“Well whatever you did worked in a fashion,” Tarhal began. “The bomb still went off but it only hit the first few floors of the building, not the blast radius Cassus was expecting. I got out of the building just as the bomb blew, and I was the first one to get to you after… well, after you hit the ground. To be honest I didn’t think there’d be anything left after a fall like that and the explosion, but there was enough life left in you.” He chuckled softly. “Your magic saved you Spike, as much as I understand it anyway. You had some of your green shields around your organs, keeping you from completely bleeding out. Quick thinking by the way. Subconscious?”
“I don’t think I did it,” Spike chuckled softly, before letting out a hacking cough.
“Spike! You ok?” Tarhal asked urgently.
“Y-yeah,” Spike nodded, looking up again. “New lungs aren’t sitting right yet that’s all. But I don’t think it was me, well, it wasn’t Spike. Whether it was Moonstone or Desolation…well, I don’t know Tarhal. Nothing makes sense anymore, I don’t know if this is real, or if I’m still in some drug-induced dream. All I know is that I can’t fight anymore. I’m done with the war, I’m going to go back to the temple, face the music.”
“Ok,” Tarhal nodded.
“That’s it?” Spike asked. “Just ok?”
“Yeah, your choice,” Tarhal nodded.
“Wow, I really expected you to be the one to ask me to stay,” Spike chuckled, coughing again.
“Spike you got blown up,” Tarhal pointed out. “If you want out, there’s no shame in it. You’re my friend, and I’ll support you.”
Spike smiled, leaning back and staring up at the stars and sighing. For a long time the two simply sat beside each other, silently keeping each other company before Spike finally broke the night with his voice.
“You could be forgiven for thinking that there’s a war on, couldn’t you?”
“Yeah. Far too peaceful for anything to go wrong,” Tarhal nodded. “So why up here?”
“Good view of the stars,” Spike replied. “I needed to see something real, something that won’t be changing.”
“Stars change Spike,” Tarhal pointed out.
“Yeah, but not quickly. Plus I needed to try something out, had to be in natural light,” Spike sighed, before raising his hand and screwing his face up in concentration.
“What are you…” Tarhal began, before being shushed by Spike.
For a minute, Spike was concentrating on his hand, a few green sparks jumping from his claws and fizzling out, before he finally dropped his hand and broke into a coughing fit, one that only stopped as Tarhal pressed the respirator to his face, the technology interfacing with the sensors in his mouth and matching his breathing pattern, swiftly bringing it under control.
“T-thanks,” Spike nodded weakly, a tear falling from his remaining eye.
“Mind explaining?” Tarhal asked, removing the respirator.
“From what I could tell, from every test and experiment I did before the war and after I discovered my magic, natural light helped me with my magic, especially moonlight. I’m guessing something about lunar radiation from starlight reflected off the moon, but solar energy works just as well. As far I can tell, Dragons, and probably ponies as well, literally soak it up, take power from it. It’s why Princess Luna and Celestia were so powerful, they were made of the stuff.”
“Ok, certain types of radiation might help your magic,” Tarhal gestured for Spike to keep going. “What’s next?”
“That was everything Tarhal,” Spike sighed. “I’m in the glare of radiation, I’m focusing everything on just creating a shield, and I can’t. I can’t make a shield, I lift objects with either the force or my magic, and I can’t even breathe fire. I’m a Jedi who can’t use the force, I’m warrior who lost one of his sword arms, and I’m dragon who can’t breathe fire. What use am I Tarhal?”
“You’re a friend,” Tarhal pointed out. “You’re damn clever, even now you could still probably wipe the floor with me in an arm wrestle. Don’t count yourself out buddy.”
“Easy for you to say, you’re all organic, no implants in you,” Spike shot back softly.
“You’re right,” Tarhal nodded, before smiling as he had an idea. “Come with me Spike.”
“I want to stay out here,” Spike shook his head.
“Trust me, Spike. Come with me, and then you can come back up here ok?”
“For you Tarhal,” Spike nodded, coughing, before bobbing along in the repulsor chair behind Tarhal, heading back inside.
As they headed through the hospital, Spike kept his head down, focusing only on following his friend and doing his best to ignore the looks and whispers that he was getting. He didn’t care too much about what he looked like usually, but this was a bit different from having a scar on his chest, and he just wanted people who he knew and had thought with to stop seeing him like this. Ruined, weak, helpless.
Eventually however they reached one of the patient call rooms, and Tarhal quickly keyed in an ID, before pushing Spike into the booth. “Just trust me. Talk to him.”
“Talk to who?” Spike asked, but Tarhal just shook his head and closed the door, turning his back and standing guard over Spike as the call tried to connect.
“Alright, I’ll play your game Tarhal,” Spike shook his head, turning his chair around and waiting for the projector to flare into life.
“Tarhal?” a familiar voice oozed out of the speakers as it finally connected.
“Not quite Master Norik,” Spike shook his head.
“Spike?” Norik asked as a hazy projection of the venerable master appeared. “One moment, I’m trying to clear up the signal.”
It took a few seconds, but the image eventually became more stable, allowing Spike to look at the bionic Jedi and him to look at Spike. Norik’s face fell, and he slowly nodded to himself.
“One guess why you call me Spike,” he murmured.
“Tarhal’s idea,” Spike shrugged.
“He knows how to make the best of a bad situation,” Norik nodded. “I don’t like what the pair of you are doing, but from the looks of things you’ve suffered enough without hearing an old mans ramblings.”
“Yeah, that’s…one way of looking…at it,” Spike nodded in between coughs.
“Replacement lung?” Norik guessed.
“Lungs,” Spike corrected him. “Full primary and secondary and ninety three percent of tertiary lung. There’s not much left inside me that could be saved. I could even be more machine you by the end of this master.”
“That’s not a good thing,” Norik pointed out.
“Oh I know Norik,” Spike nodded, coughing and sobbing. “I’m trying to feel things that are gone, trying to do I may never do again. How do you do it Norik? Keep going when you can’t feel like you anymore?”
“We don’t have a choice Spike,” Norik sighed. “People like you and me, we’re handed a bad card, it can end the game for you easily, but just like a nineteen can lead to bust, it call also lead to twenty one, all depends on luck. I’m not going to say that I support what you’re doing in the war, but I can say that gave you a drive that I haven’t seen in many Jedi recently. Losing that would be more than just a loss for you, it would be a loss for the Order, and by definition, the Republic.”
“So, what? You think I should keep fighting?” Spike asked in confusion. “I’m done Norik, I want to scratch the left side of my face, but I don’t have an arm that side, or a proper face. If that’s not enough…” he paused to cough more, clutching his chest, before managing to continue. “If that’s not enough of a sign to get me out, I don’t know what it.”
“Well then by all means come back to the temple,” Norik nodded. “You’ll have to defend your actions, but I’ll speak for you, and I know Solaris would willingly defend you. Just remember that if you’re going to get through this much cyberniesis you need something to fight for.”
“I have the Republic, but I…I just don’t know if I can keep fighting in the war,” Spike sighed.
“Then don’t Spike, come home to the temple, I’ll make sure Solaris knows you’re coming back,” Norik smiled. “Complete stage two, then you can make your way home.”
Norik ended the message as Spike turned away, pushing the door open and hovering out of the booth beside Tarhal, the Wookie easily keeping pace.
“So, helpful?”
“Norik survived, I’ll survive too, but I’m going back to the temple,” Spike responded. “I can’t keep fighting if I don’t believe in myself. I believe the war is right, but…”
“You don’t have to justify anything to me Spike, you want to walk, walk,” Tarhal smiled.
“Why are you being so damn supportive, it’s making me feel guilty,” Spike chuckled. “I expected you to try and make me stay, then I could fight against you.”
“And you say you don’t want to fight,” Tarhal muttered softly, before raising his voice. “Spike, I know that people who don’t give it their all fall faster than those that give it all. You’ve given your all and look what it got you. I can see why you’re not wanting to go back.”
“Thanks Tar…” Spike began, before coughing violently, his body shaking as he continued to cough, slipping out of his chair and hitting the floor hard.
“Spike!” Tarhal quickly grabbed the respirator, trying to push it over Spikes lips, but finding it impossible as he continued to cough. “Help over here! Now!”
Spike continued to cough and wheeze as another doctor rushed over to aid Tarhal, taking the respirator from the Wookie and allowing Tarhal to hold Spike still. Before the doctor could get the mask over Spikes mouth however, he let out one final cough, before a spurt of green flame erupted from his mouth, nearly hitting the doctor and slamming into the wall, before dispersing, leaving no damage.
The doctor quickly recovered, pushing the mask over Spikes mouth and forcing him to breath, but Spike pushed him away, crawling across the floor towards the other thing that had shot out of his mouth, his claw shaking as he reached for the scroll.
“General Tarhal, help me get him up,” the doctor said quickly, trying to put an arm around Spike, but Tarhal held a hand out, looking down at the scroll Spike was slowly unfolding, the movements coming naturally to him, even with only one claw.
ToDearTo My Dearest Spike.I don’t know if this will ever reach you. I don’t know where you are. I don’t know if you even survived whatever it was that took you.
I’ve been thinking back to that night so much in the past year, replaying every moment, running tests on the tree, trying to find out what that orb was. I’ve found nothing that can help, nothing that tells me where you are, or how to reverse what happened. Months of searching, more data than I know what to do with,
me, not knowing what to do with data, imagine thatand yet I’m no closer to finding out where you’ve gone, or what that thing was.I’m so sorry that I can’t do more, I want to find you, to hold you again. Everything is so different without you, so quiet, so boring. I feel like I took you for granted when you were here. Now all I wish is that you would come back for just one day. Somepony wrote that you never truly know what you have until it’s gone. I know what I had now. All the magic, all my friends, even the princesses. I’d give them up for you Spike.
The others, they don’t understand, they think that I’m just grieving, that I’m still trying to adjust to what happened to you, but I’m not. I’m not going to accept this. No matter what it takes, I will find you again, and I will see you again. I’ve been trying to master Celestia’s message spell for months now, following her notes on how she originally bound the pair of us together back when you first hatched, initial observations when we were both young, everything I can get my hooves on. Celestia thinks I’m crazy, she thinks that I can’t make a link between me and you without you being here with me, but she’s wrong. We’re magically linked you and I Spike, paired at birth for life. I feel your pain, you feel mine
, well, you’re a Dragon, pony pain probably isn’t that much too you so maybe you don’t, or maybe it’s a one way street and I feel yours but you don’t feel mine. Who knows?I know you’re still alive, I can feel it, the pain you’re feeling, the anger, the sorrow. I won’t stop, I’ll never stop until we’re back together again.The others want me to stop, Celestia, Luna and Cadence. They tell me I should focus on my duties, but this is my duty. If you can be taken, so can others, and I will do everything I can to find out more about your disappearance so that nopony else ever has to go through the same pain as I’m going through. I won’t ever stop searching.
Ever.If you are reading this, if it somehow gets through to you, promise me one thing. Don’t ever stop believing in yourself Spike.
Never give up on what you believe in. Someday, hopefully soon, I will find a way to bring you home, I promise you on everything I own. Please don’t give up on yourself, wherever you are.
Eternally yours
Your motherYour sister
Twilight Sparkle
Spike shook as he read and re-read the letter, before reading it again, taking in every word on the perfectly preserved and unscorched piece of parchment he was holding. He could feel arms around him trying to lift him up, but he wasn’t finished, making himself as much of a deadweight as he could, which was more than it should have been with the amount of body he had left given the amount metal he had in him.
“Spike? Are you ok?” Tarhal asked softly, bending down and reading the letter over his shoulder. When Spike didn’t answer, he slowly tried to move Spikes head to look into his eyes, only for Spike to resist him. “Spike?”
“T-This is from home?” he whispered shakily to himself, shakily bring the paper closer to his face and sniffing it. “M-My home?” his head suddenly snapped round as he looked at Tarhal, staring straight at him. “This is real? I’m not crazy?”
“It’s real Spike,” Tarhal nodded. “Not answering the second bit.”
“Then get me up and get me to Charka. And tell Revan I’ve made up my mind.”
***
“So, you made up your mind,” Revan asked as he walked into the room that Spike, Charka and Tarhal were already occupying.
“I found something to fight for,” Spike nodded, clutching the scroll to his chest, careful not to damage it. “Show me the cybernetics.”
Revan nodded, reaching under his robes and drawing out a datapad, before plugging it into a projector and activating it, showing a 3-D model of a dragon, its head, wings and right arm in blue, while the rest was in red.
“Doctor Charka, can you explain this?” Revan asked, allowing her to take the floor.
Charka nodded as she stood up, standing next to the projection and looking at Spike. “Usually cybernetics and bionics come in three grades. Civilian, reconnaissance and front line. There are a few heavier duty models, but they’re usually made to order and actually recycled droid parts. These parts are made especially for you. Neuranium, Songsteel and melted down Mandalorian armour makes the parts as strong as your scales, if not stronger. We’ve already upgraded and reinforced your internals and digestive tract so they should hold underneath the armour, and your new hearts should provide enough of what we could salvage of your blood to keep your biologicals intact. Power for the limbs come from an experimental fusion generator flash-forging matter for a hyper-matter annihilator. The flash-forging is relatively inefficient, but it should be able to be supplemented by the contents of your stomach.”
“And that means?” Spike asked.
“It can run off the matter in your stomach. The more you eat, the more matter your generator will have to run on and therefore more power will be generated,” Charka explained.
“You’ve given Spike a medical reason why he needs to eat?” Tarhal deadpanned. “Great, we’ll need more rations.”
“On the upside, you’ll never be getting tired again,” Charka pointed out. “Your cybernetics organs should be more efficient than your biologicals. A small comfort, but it is one at least. Lastly is your eye. Ocular implants were the easiest parts for you as other than size it’s an identical piece. Frontline grade, comes with targeting crosshairs and recognition software as standard. It will give you battle data and can be linked to almost any willing droid brain for instantaneous synchronised assimilation of information.”
“You’re making me sound like I’m going to be a droid myself when I wake up,” Spike sighed, before leaning back on the table in the middle of the room which he’d been balancing on. “Let’s get on with this, before I change my mind.”
Reaching over, Spike carefully handed Tarhal the resealed scroll. “Keep that safe for me.” he ordered as Charka placed a mask over his face, preparing to fill his new lungs with a sedative.
“What is it?” Revan asked, leaning over Tarhal’s shoulder to look at the bound parchment.
Spike could already feel his eyes growing heavy, but he still managed to reply to Revan before he went completely unconscious.
“A reason to fight.”
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hopefully Spike will be home soon
5252295 Everyponies reaction to his state will be interesting. Going to need a lot of explaining for them to accept what had happened to him.
After spending all day out, I'm pleasantly surprised to see this here!
5252406
Wow, he really have gone through the ringer. You didn't even let him keep his pride as a male. Thankfully that letter came when it did. Now Spike has a reason to get up.
I say this is going pretty well.
Hey, finally another chapter, I've been dieing for this, and I must say that it was a hell of a chapter at that!
Thanks for writing!
Fantastic chapter. I'm super exciting for this story all over again, seeing as we may be moving into the next arc.
Keep up the great work.
As an aside, you may want to grab another proof-reader when possible; I don't know if you're dictating it with software/not a native English speaker, but there's been a slowly increasing number of typos. Nothing readers can't handle, but its there.
Before I start reading this I want to know one thing: does Spike find Equestria again? I love first contact stories so if this has it I'll definitely give it a read. If not, I'll still give it a shot but yea.
5253125
He'll go back home, but don't expect it to be soon.
5252969
There are more typos? Damn, I thought I was getting better. I have a proof-reader though who I think is really good. When you say they've been growing, when about since? I'm just interested in knowing to see if I can figure out why.
YES YES!!! you have essentially made Spike the first Sith stalker or should i say Prototype Sith stalker
All that I can say is that Spike is going to be a bad A$$ when they are done with him
and I was wondering if you could put up a picture of spike when he out of the hospital.
While I was happy beyond words that Spike finally got a letter from Twilight, I'm a little disapointed at how the story is progressing. You see, one of the things I liked the most about this story was seeing Spike's dragonic abilities as a Jedi and now most of it is gone. I guess you did it because he was "too overpowered". I know this is very childish, but I'm not that much interested in this story anymore unless you plan for Spike to learn a magic (or someone else to do it for him) that will restore his body.
I'm not saying this turn of events is bad. Just not my thing.
It is going to suck when he starts to outgrow those things, a little explanation there would be awesome.
Finally! A sign from Twilight!
Oh my god Spike just got the Blackjack treatment.
encrypted-tbn3.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcTE4SZeiV3Wh9l_TBxdfJKL2Of54Zb3P_822VW_ADWcw63fg4-b
Holy sweet fucking Celestia this chapter is beautiful...
I mean, first you throw in the mind fuck of that it all could've been a hallucination.
Then you throw away most of his limbs and organs.
THEN (And this is the best part) at the perfect moment he gets a message from Twilight.
This chapter is too beautiful to describe in words, I love it.
I hope he can really someday meet Twilight again.
Furthermore, I'd like to inquire about if you wrote the note in one of the previous Twilight base chapters and she sent it from there.
It's been so long I can't remember.
We can also conclude from this that the timeline between Spike and Twilight is completely different, Spike having gone through years for what Twilight only had in months.
5253862
The letter was only written for this chapter, as it wasn't in the origional plan. Everyone wanted to see a but of Equestria stuff though, so I thought I'd throw in a few bits here and there. Who knows, if they fit in I may include more. No promises.
5253783
Ante Up
5253484
You mean an explanation of him growing out of them? All in good time.
5253481
I'm sorry to hear that, but thanks for saying as well. I have plans, and no, Spike isn't going to completly lose his abilities as a Jedi, but I wanted to give him an experience to show him he isn't immortal.
5253901 I always thought he already got that lesson twice: back when he was tortured on Maryx and when he lost his tail. I know he'll still ahve jedi powers, what I'm concerned with are his dragonic powers: breath in space, firebreath, strength, magma resistance, etc. You pretty much destroyed the coolest aspect of him. Granted cyborg Spike seems cool on paper, but not at the cost of the other features.
5253901
I do hope it fits in cause to me it just made the story so much better.
Now I'm gonna be sad when Spike comes home, looking more machine than dragon. Will Twilight even recognize him at this point? Will she be so frightened that she will reject him? The more I read the more curious I am of how this will all turn out.
I've completely forgot to ask this earlier but can Spike still breathe fire?
Like, willing. Of course the stuff for the scroll was from some other magic but I mean his regular fire breath.
It almost sounded like he couldn't when he was talking to Tarhal on the roof.
Jeez. I didn't really expect Spike to get that bad, but I guess that's what you get for trying to stop a bomb. I wonder if anyone in Equestria will even recognize him when he gets back. They'll probably just think he's a monster, and if he keeps going in the direction he has been, they may be right.
Damn! You kinda crush Spike with a freaking giant hammer of downgrade.
Lost his ability to pass on his gene (Damn).
A BIG portion of his body is machine which might be hard for him when he outgrow them.
His morale got temporily flushed down the drain.
Those implant look more like downgrade them upgrade.
Where the hell are all of his Draconic abilities? Magic, fire, magic fire, strength, flight, magma resistance (or heat resistance in general) (close to immunity) (I like the part where emergency bandage being magma), and the tibid about his Jedi ability make me think he lost it.
It's interesting because he is different, please don't make him the run of the mill jedi.
5254027
Well they found the gland for his fire and magic, and they're both still 100% intact and still in him.
5254613
Spike. Can't do anything with magic or the force at the moment, including dragon fire. The scroll was a freak accident, as it uses Twilight's magic sent through him, rather than his own magic.
5255409
Spike will never be run of the mill. That I promise you.
honestly, the way I see it, once he regains his magic and the force, he should be able to stimulate regeneration of what he's lost over several years(don't tell me it can't be done, because certain Sith have been able to regenerate from literally anything almost immediately, and combine that with Kolto which has regenerative properties itself, and his magic and he should be able to come back from almost anything as long as he's still alive).
5255742
Alright, got it.
Since you say "at the moment though" it makes me think that he might get it back.
Damn. Poor Spike, he's been through too much. On the plus side though, we finally got some sort of contact from Equestria! YAY!
Not only do I look forward to future chapters, but I look forward to the possibility of Spike regaining some of his biological parts that he lost, and to him finally going home.
~ Super-Brony12
There's a rule out there that states;
''Whenever the protagonist loses an arm or a leg, he'll become the most badass cyborg ever!''
spike as part machine, great, Desolation should be happy. there's more there for him to experiment with. That letter from twilight really hit home for me and it nearly brought me to tears. Excellent work
My god! The amount of torture spike had to go through in this entire experience. I'm with Tarhal in though whole Spike not being completely their any more. With the amount of friends and body parts he's lost, these split personalities may be the only reason he's still sane.
As for whole cybernetic upgrades, I'm a little torn. While i like the whole idea, and it really drives in the fact that spike is mortal despite living for thousands of years, it still kind of gripes me. Of course this also drives the idea that this entire journey away from home has changed spike by forcing him to grow up in an environment that's different and much more dangerous , and this chapter is a perfect example of the results of that. If he stays from here on out, then that's way it plays out, but if you decide that he can regenerate them later then i won't complain. Just make sure that it's an interesting way. He's a dragon so you have plenty room for lore. Maybe he can regain his limbs back after going through giant growth again. Food for thought.
Anyway keep up the great work.
Love it.
I want to see him back in Equestria with everyone being like "WHAT THE FUCK?!"
About dam time. I thought spike was going to die in combat or of old age or something and never get contact with home again. Twilight is still looking for him.
Also i read the whole story up to this point in 2 nights both staying up to 4am. Its a good story.
5260633
He hasn,t learnt any other magic tricks because magic is bloody hard, and he has no one to learn from.
As for the bomb, it's not nuclear, so after the initial explosion, it's like a massive fireball. Put a shield around a fire, starve it of oxygen and it will decrease in size and ferocity. Also, he absorbed some of the power to help power his magic, but there was just too much and the explosion broke free.
5260672
Hol y crap. In two nights? Kudos
*Spike gets home*
*Twilight finds regeneration spell*
"... I CAN SCRATCH MY
BALLSFACE AGAIN!"5262413
Yep
5263170
I am everywhere but nowhere at the same time.
5264005
Yes, I meant the spines of top of his head, as they add some height.
I did think no as I dodn't know how to add them in at that time. My mistake.
Yes, I can see the idea for chest scales being harder, but also if you're on all fours mkst of the time, then it's your back that's exposed to damage. His stomach scales aren't weak,mjust weaker.
The warning from not-twilight wasn't about Revan or Malak,mthat was to do with Exar-Kun and Ulic Qel-Droma.
Yes, I forgot about the fire until now, so I had to try and crowbar it in somewhere.
Hope that answers your questions and queries.
5267001
Takua? Is that you?
img1.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20080119001521/bionicle/images/5/5a/Movie_Takua.PNG
This bit seems odd - "bending down and reading the letter over his shoulder." Did Tarhal actually bother to learn a language and writing system that has only one known user in the entire galaxy?
5270434
It takes place around 4000 years before the battle of Yarvin
This chapter made me all teary eyed... Good job so far. Only issues I've seen is mostly typos. I remember you saying near the beginning of the story that Spike will be growing much bigger (Dragonshy size) and will be able to change is size. Does this mean that his organic parts will grow back? Seeing Spike as 90% robot is just... depressing.
Sorry for the delay. My weeks are now incredibly busy. Belated nitpicks!
army's
The comma ought to be a semicolon or a colon.
In each of these examples, there should be a comma after the word before the name or title. It's the same kind of thing as these examples:
Spike, this concoction can be fatal,
Spike, get a hold of yourself,
Here, the name is before the other phrase, instead of after, and you use a comma. Wouldn't it look a little weird if you wrote
Spike this concoction would be fatal,
Spike get a hold of yourself,
Part of the reason there should be commas there is that omitting them can be confusing. Look at this example:
Do you see Revan?
Now, in context we should realize that Spike isn't asking if Revan is seeing himself, but the uncertainty would be impossible if it was
Do you see, Revan?
Revan's
It sounds to me like this should be "had been assured", but if you mean that Tarhal took action to make sure that they recovered, instead of verifying that they were on the road to recovery, then it would be "had ensured" (not "had been ensured").
Did you intentionally omit "dare" from the first phrase?
If "well after" means "long after", then this is fine. If it's meant as more of a verbal hesitation, then there should be a comma after "well", as you did here:
it was me, well, it wasn’t Spike
Stars change, Spike,
"and" makes no sense here as the sentence is written.
no closer
you and me
I think this should be "...as strong as your scales, if not stronger."
5304954
No worries man. As always, your nitpicking of my destruction of the English language is much appreciated.
5324624
Spike is probably in his late teens around now. I lost track around there and brought it back in line later on. I know roughly how old he is now. And Spike is ok with flying, but until he gets wing he's never gone at high speeds, so that's what he's not keen on at the miment.
Question: now that most of Spike's limbs are gone, how will he adjust to his growth process? I remember that you've said that Spike would learn magic to adjust his size and that he would only assume his true size occasionally. How is he going t do that now that he has robotic legs and arm? Is he going to use magic to supersize and even adjust the form of his prostetic limbs, because, as you must remember, every adult dragon limbs have a different bone structure (given their shape) than their kid/teenager counterparts. So, having Spike's MECHANIC limbs grow as well will do more harm than good since they wouldn't fit the shape of his adult body and have Spike use magic to change the shape of his mechanic limbs is destroying the suspension of disbelief.