Going Through Changes
Spike groaned as he tried to filter out the mechanical whine of the ship as Tarhal piloted it through the asteroid belt, the ship’s lasers making sure that none of the space rocks hit the ship. Spike had had been greeted by some success in stopping the whine since they left Taris, but he hadn’t managed to shut it out completely, and his cybernetics were still trying to interface with the ship’s system. He’d also been slowly picking up using his limbs better, and while he didn’t think he’d be running anywhere anytime soon, he was able to walk around without swaying, stumbling or falling, which could only be a positive.
“Tarhal? How much longer?” Spike grunted, getting to his feet and standing beside the pilot’s chair where the Wookie was sitting. “The ship’s systems are really loud.”
“How are you going to survive on Harmony if you can’t stand it in here?” Tarhal chuckled. “Still, to answer your question, we should be touching down on the Rogue Moon in ten minutes. Want me to call a general assembly for when we touch down?”
“Higher command only,” Spike nodded. “This will be the first time we get to see the Special Forces all in one place and not in battle status, which should be useful for sorting out exactly how many men we have under our command; I still only have a rough estimate of the numbers.”
“Right, sending the message ahead of us,” Tarhal pressed a few buttons as he spoke. “Encryption seven delta five. Sending, and sent.”
“Thanks,” Spike nodded, before taking his seat behind Tarhal, the chair groaning under his weight, threatening to snap before Spike stood up again. “I hate being even heavier,” he grumbled, before sitting down on the floor.
***
Spike walked down the ramp of the shuttle that the pair had commandeered, his new feet making loud clanging sounds every time they hit the metal floor. The hanger that they had landed in was bustling with movement, as droids and men alike moved to and fro, carrying out their appointed tasks. Spike could already feel the presence of the droids in the room, and instantly knew that there were thirty three in close proximity to him. Scowling, he screwed his face up in concentration, focusing on the new implants until the mechanical whispers finally subsided, clearing Spikes mind once more.
“Generals,” the man came to attention and saluted as he spoke, before looking over the pair of them, his lips pressed together into a thin, impassive line. “I heard we had aliens in charge.”
“Is that a problem?” Spike asked, his one remaining eye narrowing.
“My name is Colonel Mika, I’m in charge of the Special Forces,” he continued, not meeting Spike’s gaze.
“Answer the question,” Tarhal cut in.
“I don’t speak your language Wookie,” he shot back.
“Then you can learn it,” Spike glared at Mika, pulling himself up to his full height. “And Mika, you’re not in charge, Tarhal and I are in charge. Does that bother you?”
“Of course not Generals,” Mika’s voice was layered with sarcasm as he spoke. “I’m not planning on learning Shyriiwook though.”
“If you want to stay in this unit, you’ll learn it, and while you are learning, you’ll have a translation droid on hand at all times,” Spike shook his head. “Tarhal is in charge of the Special Forces beside me, so any orders he gives to you will be understood and followed. If you don’t like that, there’s a shuttle just there, and you can go crawling to Revan and get reassigned.”
“Was that a threat?” Mika glared at Spike, his hand moving towards his blaster pistol.
“And if you reach for that pistol you’re a bigger idiot than I thought,” Spike smirked. “I have no time for bigots, xenophobes and idiots, and from the looks of things you’re all three. So I’m asking you, do you want to stay in this unit under my command?”
“The Special Forces are mine,” Mika scowled. “I do not like the fact that you hijacked them for your personal war against Cassus. Oh yes, I know all about you General Spike. Your little accident in the Jedi tower. Your stupidity. Your failure on Coru…”
“Get, out,” Spike growled, taking a step forward.
“What?” Mika replied sharply.
“I said, get out,” Spike glared down at Mika. “I will not have you in charge of anything in my unit, so go back to Revan and see if he wants you, but frankly I don’t care if this is it for your career or not. The Special Forces were made up mostly from the 59th Recovery force, my unit from before this war, and the reason they were chosen is because I took them to Flashpoint, so if anyone should be in charge of them, it’s me. So you are going to get in that shuttle and leave me alone.”
“You’ll regret this,” Mika snarled, edging round Spike and glaring at Tarhal as he walked past, heading up the ramp of the shuttle.
“No I won’t,” Spike replied nonchalantly, before looking at Tarhal. “Come on, let’s find someone else in charge.”
“You do realise that you just fired the Colonel of the Special Forces right?” Tarhal asked casually as the pair walked deeper into the hanger.
“You want him in charge of anything?”
“No, just saying as a first move it’s pretty ballsy for someone who has no balls.”
“Thanks for the reminder,” Spike deadpanned. “I’m not in the mood for people that think they’re better than anyone else because of their race, regardless of their rank. Now, where do you think the other officers are?”
“Just go ask someone,” Tarhal shrugged, before pointing at a Sergeant. “He looks like he knows what he’s doing.”
“How can you possibly know that?” Spike scoffed, rolling his eyes, but he did walk towards the man. “Sergeant, do you have any idea where your officers are?”
“One second, can’t you see I busy?” the man muttered, before looking up from what he was doing. As soon as he saw Spike and Tarhal, the colour drained from his face and he began to shake, getting to his feet. “G-Generals, I’m sorry for that, I didn’t know it was you.”
“It’s ok Sergeant, this isn’t an inspection,” Spike assured him. “Just point us towards an officer and we’ll be out of your…”
“Spike? Is that you?” Cortez called across the hanger, running towards Spike and Tarhal.
“Turns out you don’t need to worry,” Spike turned away from the Sergeant as he went back to his task, watching as Cortez ran towards him, finally stopping in front of the pair and whistling softly, looking over Spike.
“When Tarhal told me you were being rebuilt, I didn’t quite believe how much was going to be…you know…”
“Cybernetic,” Spike finished for him with a frown.
“I’m sorry Spike, I didn’t mean to bring it up.”
“Kind of hard not to,” Spike shrugged, his new eye focusing on Cortez, bringing up his service record in front of his eyes, beginning to scroll through before Spike forced it to disappear. “Did you guys see that?”
“See what?” Tarhal asked.
“Nothing, I’m just figuring things out about my new body,” Spike replied, before looking at Cortez. “Two questions. One, I’m assuming you can understand Tarhal now, yes or no, and two, where is the rest of the command structure?”
“I learnt bits while you were in the hospital,” Cortez nodded. “I’m not fluent, but I understand a bit.”
“Good, not a complete idiot then,” Spike smiled. “And the command structure?”
“Colonel Mika was supposed to meet you when you got off your shuttle. We should wait for him to arrive before staring the meeting.”
“He won’t be joining us,” Spike shot a look at Tarhal. “He’s going back to Revan.”
“Can I ask why?”
“Bigotry, plus I plain didn’t like him,” Spike replied. “Now, where are the others?”
“This way,” Cortez led Spike and Tarhal out of the room, heading through the corridors of the base at a slower speed for Spike, slowing even more when he occasionally stumbled. “Are you sure you have the power to just get rid of someone like that?”
“Yes,” Spike didn’t break stride.
“Ok, let me put it another way. Should you have done that? He was a bit of an ass, but he was a Colonel.”
“And I’m a general. I don’t have time for no-hopers and racists, and if that means I have to tear away all the deadwood then so be it. Revan told me to make changes as I saw fit to ensure that the Special Forces are the best soldiers in the universe, and if that means I have to tear away the old command structure to do it, then so be it.”
“Colonel Mika was liked by some of the other officers,” Cortez warned. “Maybe…”
“Maybe nothing,” Spike cut him off. “The officers of the Special Forces will bend a knee to me, or they can find another unit to attach to. You’ve known me for long enough Cortez to know that I am fair when it comes to command, now I just need you to trust me enough to follow me as we search for our target.”
“Our target?”
“Cassus Fett,” Spike snarled at the name. “He has terrorised the Republic for long enough, and he has killed more than enough to warrant an execution by the Republic. I want the Special Forces to deliver the judgment of the Republic right to his front door.”
“Spike, you can’t let what he did to you blind…” Cortez began.
“This isn’t about me,” Spike snapped back. “I hate him, but this is bigger than me, and I will bring him to justice if it takes me a hundred years.”
Cortez and Tarhal exchanged worried looks as they stopped behind Spike in front of a metal blast door, the thick slabs slowly sliding open and allowing the three to walk in to the room, the other officers looking intently at them as they approached the table.
“General Spike, General Tarhal, it is good to finally meet you,” one of the men nodded. “Is Colonel Mika going to join us soon?”
“Mika is gone,” Spike said dismissively, approaching the central table and resting his hands on it, looking between the men and women assembled before him. “Colonel Cortez is taking over his position.”
The room erupted into cries of dismay and confusion, before Spike let out a sharp growl, silencing the room as he glared at the officers in the room, switching between each one as he allowed the silence to set in. Finally he broke the silence, his mechanical eye glowing brighter.
“This is my decision, and it is final. If anyone wants to challenge it, there are shuttles you can take back to Arcadia or to Revan. How many of you fought beside me on Taris? How many of you stood beside me on Eres III or during the rebuilding of the Outer Rim? I am placing Cortez as my third in command, so the rest of you now work for him, because he works for me. Any objections?”
No one raised any, and while a few glances were exchanged, nobody dared to speak up, allowing Spike to continue.
“Good. Now, who was a member of the forty second over on the left, anyone who was an officer in the fifty ninth, stand on the right,” the officers quickly moved around, even Cortez scurrying away from Spike to stand with his men. “Now from what I’ve read about regiments formed of two or more depleted regiments there can be animosity and difficulties between rival soldiers. Is that a problem here?”
“Sir, I believe that it is better to…” one man from the forty second began.
“Answer the question,” Tarhal spoke up.
“Partially,” the man nodded.
“Explain,” Spike ordered.
“The Recon Commandoes insist on deploying in their original squad sizes and won’t merge depleted squads together to make a full strength one as it wasn’t their way of doing things when they were on their own,” Cortez sighed, shooting an apologetic look at the forty seconds officers.
“And the members from the fifty ninth don’t do this?” Spike asked, doing his best to raise his one remaining eyebrow.
“We prefer to keep combat efficiency up,” Cortez nodded. “Plus if every squad and platoon are pretty much the same size, it makes deploying them easier, and means that deploying one platoon will yield the same amount of men being deployed as deploying the next. Deploying a platoon of the forty second could mean getting a full platoon or it could be a couple of squads, which isn’t ideal.”
“But we manage,” one of the men from the forty second defended himself. “And the forty second is always ready to fight, regardless of the mission.”
“Stop, now,” Spike ordered, looking between the groups. “The fact that you are still looking at yourself as the fifty ninth and the forty second, rather than the first Special Forces Regiment is a fundamental problem, which is why I’m going to be making changes around here, and you are all going to get used to them and make sure they are implemented.”
“Yes sir,” came the unanimous reply, Spike nodding his approval, before taking a seat that looked like it had been heavily reinforced beforehand and gesturing for the others to do the same, Tarhal sitting to his right and Cortez to his left.
“Ok then, first order of business,” Spike began. “How many men do we have at our disposal?”
“The forty second h…” one man began, only to be cut off by a glare from Spike. “Twenty thousand men.”
“There, was that so hard?” Spike nodded. “Why the hell have I never had twenty thousand men at my command before? They could have been useful on places like Taris. It seems like a lot more than I imagined.”
“Well when we were first created there was just over five thousand soldiers under our banner, but given our success, training was stepped up and opened to all the regiments in the army. We’re still the smallest regiment in the Republic.”
“Does anyone actually have a number on the men fighting for the Republic?” Tarhal asked.
“North of a million,” someone replied.
“Bloody hell, we are a bit of a pimple on a mountain,” Tarhal chuckled. “Still numbers aren’t everything, and they certainly don’t win all battles.”
“No, but they sure do help,” Spike replied. “Still slightly annoyed I didn’t have that many at Eres or Taris, buts there’s no point crying over it. The main thing I want to do is standardise everything and mix everyone together, no matter if they were fifty ninth, forty second or anyone else.”
“I don’t think the men will be thrilled with that sir,” a man piped up, drawing Spikes attention.
“Really?” Spike asked, focusing on the man and scanning through the record that popped up before his eye. “Well Major Alco, can you tell me how much time you’ve spent on the ground with them?”
“How did you know my name sir?”
“Answer the question,” Spike shot back venomonusly.
“None sir, I was part of Colonel Mika’s personal command structure back on Arcadia.”
“My point exactly. Cortez, your opinion?”
“The men may find it a bit odd,” he began, before glancing at the wary look that Tarhal was giving him and continuing, “but I think that they will be able to cope.”
“Precisely,” Spike nodded. “And for another thing, everyone at or below the rank of Colonel will be in the field. Maybe you’ll see what the men have to slog it through and give better commands. Tarhal and I lead from the front, so you can at least be at the rear. Now, orders for the day. One, I want to standardise the regiment’s structure and mix everyone together. Two, I want close combat training to be stepped up for everyone, and supplies willing I want everyone to be equipped with at least a short sword. Third, I need reconnaissance on potential Mandalorian supply ships we can raid. Forth, I want to see equipment lists, readouts and operational status of every man and woman under my command, and don’t skimp on the details.”
“Are you sure you want to go through everything sir?” Alco asked. “It’s a lot of data to go through.”
“Oh no, no don’t tell Spike he can’t handle lists,” Tarhal managed a chuckle, trying to lighten the mood, but only managing to draw attention to the fact that it was thick enough to cut with a knife.
“Just get me the lists,” Spike reiterated. “Is the Harmony docked here?”
“It’s in docking bay thirteen sir,” a woman nodded.
“Lucky number,” Spike quipped, before standing up. “Send the lists over to my ship. I want to meet here again in twenty four hours and by that time I want to have new deployment ideas and potential raid details, as well as anything else that needs to be brought to my attention. Until then, you are dismissed. If anyone needs me then I’ll be onboard Harmony.”
With that Spike turned, leaving the other officers and Tarhal behind exchanging worried glances, before Tarhal spoke up. “I’m sorry about him, you haven’t exactly caught him at his best moment. Just…don’t piss him off and he won’t fly off the handle, I’ll make sure he doesn’t start firing people left right and centre.”
“Thank you General,” Alco nodded. “At least one of you is reasonable.”
“Don’t insult him in front of me,” Tarhal warned softly. “I don’t necessarily agree with his methods, but everything he said makes a certain amount of sense. Just remember that his size doesn’t make him stupid, he’s far smarter than me, so if he thinks this will help the Regiment, then I’m not arguing. Now, like he said, dismissed.”
“Tarhal, a word,” Cortez called as he followed Tarhal out of the room, keeping pace with the Wookie.
“A word is about all you can understand in my language,” Tarhal chuckled.
“Which is why I have this,” Cortez tapped an oversized earpiece. “Translator, new model, so we actually talk.”
“Fine, as long as you can walk and talk at the same time,” Tarhal nodded.
“Almost uses all my brain power, but I’ll cope,” Cortez smirked, before his smile faded. “I wanted to ask your advice on a few things.”
“Spike knows you better,” Tarhal pointed out.
“He also seems a bit pre-occupied at the moment, what with Cassus and all, plus it’s about Spike anyway,” Cortez sighed. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t worried about him.”
“You and me both,” Tarhal nodded. “But you let me worry about Spike and you focus on the men, Colonel.”
“That sounds even weirder than when you called Lieutenant,” Cortez shook his head, grimacing slightly
“What do you want Cortez?”
“I just want to know that Spike’s living up to his side of a deal struck.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Eres II, just after the battle. The three of us went for a drink and the topic of relationships came up. I told you about my bastards and Spike agreed that he would stop moping around if I spoke to them. He hasn’t has he?”
“Have you spoken to them?” Tarhal deflected, crossing his arms.
“Yes, all six of them. One of them was a miner in the Outer Rim, now he’s a soldier under General Surik I think. The twins are working on Coruscant somewhere, and the remaining three were in the Outer Rim when the Mandalore struck.”
“I’m sorry,” Tarhal looked down at his feet.
“One, I didn’t know them, and I don’t feel anything for them really, and two, they’re not dead. Who knows, maybe I’ll meet them next time we fight the Mandalorians, all three of them are fighting against us. I don’t know what I feel about it, but I know that it won’t affect my combat skills I promise. I’ve lived up to my side, he hasn’t.”
“He got blown up,” Tarhal pointed out.
“Deals a deal,” Cortez shrugged. “And before that…”
“He stayed strong when we were on Taris alone as well. Plus he fought hard after he lost his tail which was a very big thing for him. In fact the only time he even contemplated giving up was when he was an arm and a head, and even then he came back and he’s now here leading…”
“What seems like a personal crusade against Cassus Fett,” Cortez finished. “Go on, try and prove me wrong.”
“I can’t,” Tarhal admitted. “Cassus has caused him a lot of pain, and in his place I think I’d be doing the same thing, but that doesn’t mean I support it with an outsiders perspective. He’s acting strangely, which when talking about him is one hell of an accomplishment. If he was any other Jedi I’d say he’d already fallen from the light.”
“And when you’re talking about him?”
“Let me put it this way. The first time we actually went on a mission together he cut a woman’s arm off because she threatened me, and I still think that he missed and meant to kill her. It would have been easy to disarm her harmlessly, but he chose to take the literal approach to that phrase,” Tarhal mused, smiling at the memory. “Spike has always skirted close to the dark side, he claims it’s because he’s a dragon, who’s to say otherwise. Now though, he seems even more erratic, more willing to use violence to get what he wants, and a hell of a lot of it.”
“You’re worried about him too then?”
“You have no idea,” Tarhal sighed. “We’ve already defied the council by marching to war, he defied them even more by returning to the temple to recruit more to our cause. He’s violent, he listens and talks to voices in his head, and when he lets the beast inside him go, he fights like an animal, or a Sith.”
“What are you going to do?”
“We,” Tarhal corrected him. “The dark side is strong, but Spike knows that, it’s hold over him will be a subtle, insidious one, and while he may be smart, I don’t know if he’ll spot that he’s falling before it’s too late. Spike is great at justifying everything and anything that he does, and more than that he makes others follow him. It’s his biggest strength. I don’t begrudge him, but I think that he’s too wrapped up in making things better for everyone else to worry about himself. We need to look out for him, the pair of us, and try to steer him away if he moves towards the shadows. I don’t want him to fall.”
“Of course you don’t, he’s a friend,” Cortez placed a hand on Tarhals shoulder.
“Which is the main reason,” Tarhal nodded.
“And the secondary reason?”
“Secondary reason is I think that if he fell and turned on the Republic, he’d win a war. Men would flock to him, Jedi would flock to him, and he’d blow through anyone who stood against him. He’s not the best Lightsaber duellist, nor is he the strongest in the force, but he is the biggest Jedi by far, and I personally wouldn’t fight him. He wouldn’t stop till he wanted to, and given what Atris has done to him, I’m going to say that wouldn’t be till she was dead.”
“You don’t really think he’s that close to falling do you? That’s just stupid,” Cortez laughed.
Tarhal sighed, not replying as Cortez began to laugh less and less, his smile being replaced by a thin, anxious smile. “You can’t be seriously worried.”
“I don’t know Cortez. What I do know is we need to be there for him until the end of the war, then I think the worst will be over.”
“You think?” Cortez clarified.
“I hope,” Tarhal amended, cracking a small, thin smile. “By the force I hope.”
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my mental image alone was scary but actually having something to work with makes that much more terrifying and awesome at the same time.
Awesome pictures.
Feels like a Dragonic Robocop.
I wouldn't be surprised if he turned out to be THE Dragonic Robocop.
Bo tahvir Goraan Dovah, fah hin ven kriist voknau kes do dalk. Stray nuz mal, ahrk hi fen mah, wah gral do pah tol hi lokaal.
Fly straight Young Dragon, for your path stands upon the edge of a knife. Stray but a little, and you will fall, to the ruin of all that you love.
5460427
Nice, what's the first one written in?
Well, the darkside ain't exactly evil if you have the mental capacity to nullify the whispers of the darkside...
5460483 what else? the Dragon Tongue of course, as presented in the Elder Scrolls V,
5460483
It looks like Skrim's dragon language.
Ahah! We missed one!
It's supposed to be Commandos!
Yeah don't fall Spike for the sweet nothings of her voice for the dark side is as fickle a seductress who wants nothing more than your soul and unyielding loyalty
Ever so good
5460677 u r of course, quite correct, daar los faal Dovah Vun, this is the Dragon Tongue. i finally found a decent translator for it. hi vis siiv nii het
I just loved the second pic, it was awesome. Red Eye and Blackjack, eat your hearts out (lord knows Blackjack would eat just about anything).
5460640
Thought it was. Would you allow me to use that later on in the story?
5462106 go right ahead, heck, the translator that i used to make that is also some thing i will share with u, het nii los,
5463355
Thank you
5463509 i only hope that Spike does not start to develop, a Voice of his own as a result. rok los ni tul nuk wah Zaan, ol daar dovah dreh, he is not yet ready to Shout, as those dragons do...
5463549
He won't, I'm not going to give him the thu'rm.
5463583 no, but Desolation might...hell, hed probably enjoy Shouting...
Yeah...that Mika is oing to be a huge pain in the arse later.
good chapter!
Who the fuck does this mika guy think he is?
when will we see a new chapter?
5505823
Not for a while I'm afraid.
after catching up on my old republic lore and seeing what happens to all surviving revanchist will there be a chance that spike goes sith for a while?
5524528
Mostly bcause I forgot, but if you'd like a reason, Spike has so far never beenin an actual fight, so far only fighting in duels. To that end he has only been trained in the Shi-Cho form pf combat, which would not advocate using his tail. As he hasn't been in a proper fight yet, he doesnt really improvise, so therefore he doesn't use his tail.
Best I could come up with in a couple of minutes.
img2.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20100806190441/starwars/images/1/11/MtheUvsRevan.jpg
5586856
It is? I totally made up Solaris, the na,e is just a bit of fun with gender-swapped Celestia
5586874 Yeah, dude. The Solaris crystal, in KotOR, mentions them.
5624060
static.comicvine.com/uploads/original/11111/111118857/3736361-1079290900-IronM.jpg
Thanks man, I'll change that when I can
This is a great story so far. Do you think you will have Twilight and Spike reunite maybe the republic or jedi found Equestria or something like that since I am pretty curious about that and one last question is how long has he been gone from Equestria? seeing how that note said he has been gone for a year but I think he has been gone longer than that.
5657503
Well act five is called Homecoming, so take from that what you will.
As for timing, I'm not 100% sure myself what I'm going to settle upon. I guess we'll all find out together.
And the darkness around Spike deepens...
I'm getting heavy General Grievous vibes from Spike.
You know, it's funny that the picture for the missing image is a upset looking frowny face with arms. Both of the images on this chapter are broken. Could you reply if you find new ones? I really want to see the cyborg spike.
I love how you're having spike slip darker and darker. Regardless of where he falls, I look forward to it.