Calming Technique
It was an odd feeling, being able to identify whether you were floating in bacta or Kolto, simply by how it felt. For example, Spike could quick tell that he was immersed in Kolto, the liquid being slightly less viscous than bacta, as well as being completely see through, rather than a translucent, pale red.
For a while, Spike just floated there, enjoying the cool, numbing feeling of what remained of his skin, soothing the parts where flesh and metal fused, but sadly, he couldn’t sleep like that forever, and he slowly opened his eye, his bionic one flaring to life.
Instantly he was hit by a wave of light, his brain quickly processing it and filing it away, before Spikes hand shot up to his head, memories of the last fight flooding back to him in crystal clarity. His hand suddenly stopped, and he looked down to it, seeing a heavy manacle attached to it. Instantly his mind was filled with data, numbers flooding his mind as he was suddenly told the density and type of metal holding him down, the force that he was currently putting it under, and how much would be needed to break it.
“What was that? He muttered to himself, the breathing tube shaking slightly, and drawing the attention of a doctor.
As soon as he drew close, Spike was again flooded with information he struggled to process, the Doctors name and service record suddenly flashing before him, and somehow, Spike remembered it all, able to recall the information perfectly.
“Dr Ramston, born on Coruscant twenty nine years ago, enrolled in medical college ten years ago, transferred to military medical facilities at the beginning of the war,” he intoned as the doctor looked at him through the glass.
“You know who I am?” Ramston asked.
“I’m looking at your service record now,” Spike nodded. “It’s an impressive display, excellent ratio of surviving injured to losing patients. Specialises in organ operations and uncooperative behaviour in patients, which from past experience of me being in Kolto and bacta tanks would technically fit my description, and would explain these manacles.”
“How can you do that?”
“Told you, I see your service record, everything that’s ever been put on the extranet about you,” Spike deadpanned.
“E-Everything?” Ramston asked nervously.
“Yes, even that,” Spike nodded. “It’s an interesting technique, I didn’t think that’s how you were supposed to do it. But then what do I know, I’ve haven’t even looked at anything else like that since Rarity.”
Ramston blushed hard, before thankfully turning around as the door opened, allowing Meetra to enter. As before, Spike was momentarily stunned by the amount of information he saw about Meetra, before shaking his head and looking at her.
“What’s…happening,” he groaned, again trying to clutch his head.
“One moment, Spike, let us get you out of there and we can discuss it,” Meetra explained, the tank slowly starting to empty.
It took exactly nine point two seconds exactly for the Kolto to fully drain, the manacles releasing as the glass tube slid up, allowing Spike to stagger out, pulling the breathing tube off his mouth and gasping, sucking in fresh air. Ramston began to look over some biometric readouts as Meetra came over to him.
“How are you feeling?” she asked.
“Physically, I’m fine, mentally, something’s wrong,” Spike panted.
“What do you remember?” Meetra asked.
“Everything.”
“Really? We assumed that you wouldn’t remember most of the battle,” Meetra sounded impressed.
“No, not just everything about the battle,” Spike shook his head. “Everything, everything I’ve ever done, everything I’ve ever said, everything I’ve ever read, every second, every word, every syllable. Everything is in perfect clarity, and I can remember it all, even things I only saw once. It’s too much, too fast, too much, too fast, too…”
Meetra slapped his face, looking apologetic as she did so.
“Thanks,” Spike nodded. “I needed that.”
“I saw,” Meetra nodded, her lips pursed tightly together. “There were a few doctors who thought that something like this could happen, although it was all speculation, a memory dump has never been attempted to this extent.”
“I clawed out what was left of the organic part of my brain and dumped everything into a machine,” Spike deadpanned. “I remember that, what happened afterwards?”
“We had to replace what you clawed out with more mechanical parts,” Meetra explained, sounding slightly apologetic. “Some doctors said it would have a small effect on your short term recollection, others said that it could have the effect of allowing you to review all your memories at will. Clearly the latter were correct.”
Spike slowly nodded, processing Meetra’s words, before asking another question.
“So, how long was I out? And what’s happening with the siege?”
“Four days, give or take a few hours,” Meetra replied. “As for the siege, we took their main base and broke their back, their fleet has scattered and there are only a few holdout pockets. We’ll be moving to liberate Onderon soon, so best get ready.”
“I’m not going,” Spike’s voice was soft as he spoke.
“Care to repeat that?”
“I said I’m not going, Meetra,” Spike repeated. “I need time, time haven’t given myself for a while.”
“What are you talking about, Spike?”
“I’ve been so caught up in this war, I’ve barely stopped to think about it. I need time to think, to reassess everything, I can’t do that on the battlefield.”
“I need you, Spike,” Meetra pointed out. “My own forces are severely depleted from taking Duxn, I need the skill and the numbers of the Special Forces to take the world.”
“Talk to Tarhal and Cortez, they’ll see you well supplied with soldiers, and between the pair of them they’re more than capable of leading them, probably will do a better job than I’ve ever done.”
“Spike…” Meetra began.
“Meetra, my mind is made up here, please don’t push this,” Spike shook his head. “I want to talk to Tarhal and Cortez, then I think I’ll retire to Harmony with my Padawan, maybe be the master I’m supposed to be.”
“I’d be lying if I said that your lose will be keenly felt, but I also know that a warrior who doesn’t want to fight can’t be made to fight, not well at least. Besides, I feel that if you don’t want to do something, you don’t do it.”
“True,” Spike nodded. “Thank you for understanding, Meetra. And congratulations on taking the planet, it could not have been an easy campaign.”
“By far the hardest I’ve ever overseen,” Meetra replied, before extending her hand. “It was nice to see you again, Spike. I hope we can meet up again after this is all over, I’d like to get to know more about Spike the Dragon, not Spike the Warrior.”
“As would I, Meetra, as would I,” Spike sighed, before turning and walking out of the room, the door sliding shut behind him.
***
Spike stood stock still on the edge of the Republic base, starring at the jungle, or more accurately the burnt path that now stretched through it like a scar. The ground was black and covered in ash, most of the trees having been completely engulfed by the fires, and those that weren’t having been ripped free to allow the heavy armour to move through. It was unlikely that the jungle would recover for decades, if it ever recovered fully.
A twinge of guilt hit Spike as he looked on, slowly walking back along the path until he was out of sight of the Republic base, and still not within view of the old Mandalorian base. He was alone, in the middle of a jungle in a scar he had created.
“Harrowing, isn’t it?” Moonstone asked, and Spike suddenly whirled around, the green unicorn standing right behind him.
“How the hell are you here?” Spike demanded, his voice quivering slightly. “I…I thought you’d disappear, like Desolation did.”
“Why? Because you clawed out your brain?” Moonstone asked, her face betraying no emotion. “Desolation and I are not the same, we never were, you just thought of us as such. That was the reason I don’t take control of your body, why I manifest as a unicorn, why we can talk without having to share a mouth. Desolation was part of your brain, it was part of what made you a dragon, I am a manifestation of your force and magic, and that is far harder to destroy than your own brain.”
“I messed up, Moonstone,” Spike said hollowly, sitting down on the burnt ground and sighing.
“Yes, you did,” Moonstone nodded. “I wish I could say that you hadn’t, but you did, Spike. You messed up so much that your draconic nature almost took over. That’s why I haven’t spoken to you for months, because your own mind was repressing your free will. You no longer wanted to see me, so you didn’t.”
“I always wanted to see you,” Spike pointed out.
“But Desolation didn’t,” Moonstone countered. “Now do you see, Spike? Desolation had far more power over you than you ever thought, and you let him take it, let him influence you, even when he wasn’t in control. You’re sitting in part of his meddling right now.”
“You don’t need to remind me, I’ve been reviewing all of my memories, those I can stomach anyway. I can remember all of them with perfect clarity, and I’ve come to the conclusion that Desolation started taking over on Taris. After I lost my tail, I was so angry, so willing to do anything for revenge, I let him in, and ever since then he’s been slowly taking control. I’ve been a fool, Moonstone, and not just with him, right from the beginning, and I think it’s time I did something about it.”
“You’re going to go home?” Moonstone asked in surprise. “You’re giving up?”
“I never said that, and I can’t anyway, the war goes on, and I’ve got to do my part, but I also have a Padawan. She needs guidance, and I can’t give that guidance on the battlefield. She’s got a lot of built up rage inside her, and if she can’t get control over it…well, perhaps I don’t have much right to speak on that matter.”
“You really don’t,” Moonstone shook her head, but Spike managed to catch the glimpse of a smile as she spoke. “Now, unless you’re planning on staying here, which I can already tell you’re not, I would suggest you find Katara.”
“I plan to, I just needed to see this,” Spike nodded. “And Moonstone? Thank you, for coming back. I didn’t mean to get you hurt.”
“I’m part of your soul, Spike,” Moonstone shrugged. “I don’t feel pain, it just looks like I do.”
“Still, the apology has to be said,” Spike turned and began to head back towards the Republic base as he spoke. “Now come on, we can talk more on the way, I need a friendly ear to vent in.”
***
Spike sighed as he looked out of the viewport into the endless void of space, shuddering slightly as the eerie quiet of Harmony’s bridge hit him once again. He had gotten used to his ship being a hive of soldiers and naval personnel, each one playing a vital part in the running of the warship. They were all gone now though, reassigned to other ships in the Special Forces fleet to help continue the war. Even those who had requested to stay even if it meant being assigned away from the front had been denied, leaving the ship empty once more, the droid brain taking over the mundane jobs of running the ship.
“Master?” Katara asked, Spike turning as soon as he heard the bridge doors sliding open. “Are you ok?”
“I’ll be fine,” Spike nodded. “I’m more concerned about you.”
“And I’m concerned about you, master,” Katara insisted. “You saved my life once, master, I do not want to see you hurt.”
“It’s a bit late for that,” Spike shrugged, a small smile crossing his lips. “But enough of that. I have only been your master for a little while, but in that time I haven’t given you the guidance that my own master gave me. I plan to rectify that, which is why I’ve brought you here.”
He gestured out into space, pointing at the large space station they were approaching.
“Fireshot Station. I spent most of my time here with my master, and now I’m going to spend time here with you. Funny how some things come full circle.”
“You spent most of your time on a space station?” Katara asked, approaching the viewport. “That explains things a bit.”
“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Spike folded his arms.
“Nothing, master,” Katara smirked. “I’ve just heard through the grape vine that you often have existential crisis, which could make sense if you spent most of your childhood staring into space.”
“Cheeky sod,” Spike muttered, reviewing the memories, before silently cursing that she had a point. “But enough about my past, we’re here to talk about your future. I’m not going to let you follow my path, I’m going to do right by you, I promise on my honour as a Dragon.”
Katara nodded in appreciation, continuing to look out at Fireshot, taking in every detail of the military station as Spike headed for the command chair, sitting down and beginning the final docking procedures.
***
Spike watched as Katara easily deflected the blaster shots aimed at her by the training droid, her weapon and body spinning fluidly, before she leapt into the air, soaring across the hanger and slicing the droid in half, panting as she landed, before turning to Spike.
“Very good,” Spike smiled, picking up the broken parts of the droid. “Although you know you don’t have to destroy the droid each time, we don’t have an unlimited supply you know.”
“Sorry, master,” Katara apologised. “Should I go again?”
“Yes, four attackers this time,” Spike nodded, glancing at four more of the spherical droids and concentrating for a second, his bionics interfacing with their computers.
In an instant they flew into action, surrounding Katara and beginning the training sequence, Katara working hard to concentrate on the four shooters. She managed to hold her own for almost two minutes, blocking the shots aimed at her, before one droid got behind her, putting a low powered stun shot into her back.
“Bugger,” Katara winced, the droids stopping shooting now the session was over. “Sorry, master.”
“Don’t be sorry, you apologise too much,” Spike chuckled. “You and I both know you can do this, I saw you fighting on Duxn when we took the cannons, so we’ve got to make sure that you can protect yourself at all times. You have a good grasp on the Ataru form for your age, and while I’m not going to go as far as to say we change your primary fighting form, I am going to teach you in the Shien form as well.”
“As you will, master,” Katara nodded.
“Now, watch me closely.”
Spike picked up Dusk, holding the Lightsaber in traditional grip and beginning to slowly go through the beginning stages of the Shien training form, falling back on the little training in the form that he had been given. Solaris had made sure to teach Spike in all of the contemporary Lightsaber forms when he had still been training beneath her, and he could fall back on any of them in a pinch, but for the majority of the time he had simply fallen back on his own skills in Niman. He had by no means mastered the form, but it had served him perfectly well so far.
***
Spike starred at the wall as one of the medic droids worked on his mechanical arm, recalibrating some of the servos within after a small mishap in Katara’s training.
“So, note to self, Jar’Kai isn’t for everyone,” Spike chuckled softly, glancing over at the droid. “It can be difficult to control two blades, both keeping your mind on both and making your weapon go where you want it to.”
“You make it look effortless,” Katara pointed out.
“That’s because I’ve used it for years and trained in the style from almost the beginning, plus Niman lends itself to duel blade fighting. Ataru does as well, but at a much higher level,” Spike replied. “And besides, I have a lot of strength to control my Lightsabers, and they’re designed with Jar’Kai in mind.”
“I guess you’re right,” Katara nodded. “Why did you teach me the basics anyway? You must have known that it was hard, wouldn’t it be prudent to teach me to be better with one blade before attempting two?”
“Perhaps, but you never know what’s going to be thrown your way, and I want you to be ready. You never known when you’re going to have to take up a second blade, and if you ever have to, I want it to be a boon for you, not a hindrance.”
“Of course, master,” Katara bowed her head in acceptance.
***
Spike looked out of the large viewport in his corners, looking over the dockyards outside and scanning the various ships being repaired and retrofitted there. Most of the ships were well and truly obsolete now, having been the mainline ships when Spike first came here. Huge battleships, bigger than anything used today, lay silent, their insides being altered to try and find an efficient place to install a shield generator. If not, then most of the ships would be decommissioned, along with the station itself.
Spike felt a twinge of sadness as he thought about the old ships being towed off for scrap, many of which he had been aboard at least once in his life. A soft sigh escaped his lips, and he placed a hand softly against the window, as if he could touch the ships and assure the ancient vessels that all would be ok.
“Is everything ok, master?” Katara asked, walking into his room and standing beside him.
“Just being a sentimental old fart,” Spike shrugged. “These ships are from my era, and this station is my home. If they go…well, it’s a little bit of history that I won’t get back, and right now, parts of me are getting scarce as it is.”
“How much…that is to say what parts…” Katara started, before trailing off.
“Are left?” Spike sighed. “Not much. Inside, a heart I think, maybe a lung too. Outside it’s what you can see. But enough about that, my problems aren’t your problems, Katara. You still have training to complete. We’ll finish the day with some guided meditation, and tomorrow we’ll work on your skills with a quarterstaff, it should be good for your concentration, plus even if you hit me you can’t do much damage.”
Katara looked slightly guilty as Spike brought up her previous accident again, before smiling and following after Spike, heading back towards Spikes quarters.
***
Spike locked the door after Katara as she left, sealing himself in his empty room, before letting his shoulders sag, his tail dragging sluggishly across the floor as he walked to his bed, sitting down heavily on it.
“Moonstone?” he croaked, looking around,
“I’m here, Spike,” she spoke softly, appearing next to him. “Let it out, I’m here for you.”
Spike didn’t need telling twice, and leant back on his bed, beginning to tell Moonstone his fears and pains, the death of Corinna taking prime place today as it had every day since they had come to Fireshot. This was how Spike ended his days now, making sure Katara was nowhere within earshot before starting, before pouring his heart out. It hurt, but at the same time it helped anchor Spike, containing his guilt and pain to one time in the day, allowing him to focus on Katara for the rest of it.
As with every night, their talk stretched on through the night and well into the early morning, before Spike finally decided that he had said all that he needed to, and lay his head down on his bed.
“Thank you, Moonstone.”
“As always, its fine, Spike,” Moonstone smiled, watching as Spike fell asleep, before fading away.
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before Spikes hand shot up to his head
“What was that? He muttered to himself
I’d be lying if I said that your lose will be keenly felt
So, not to self, Jar’Kai isn’t for everyone
1. Spike's.
2. Forgot your closing quotation mark.
3. Loss.
4. Note.
I once tried out for a group called FAST (Force Action Stunt Troop/Troupe, can't remember which) and yeah, those styles can be quite difficult. Heck, training in the most basic one was quite difficult for me but it was an eye opener to how they perform and a way to appreciate it. A pity I couldn't really do it though, would have been a nice spice for my life.
6381028
Hmmm, may have to look them up, that sounds interesting.
And as always, thank you for your corrections :)
6381130 They are and they were (or are still probably) one of the extra curricular groups from my college but might be larger as a whole with similar branches elsewhere. Maybe. Haven't seen or heard of them in nearly two years though but yeah, a very interesting group if also a little expensive hobby to maintain as you also had to buy your own actual lightsaber and actually hit against another one which are both heavy and very very hard but still breakable sadly. You'd be surprised to find out how much one actually weighed if you weren't used to even a little weight lifting.
I'm glad Spike is getting his shit together
Awesome chapter, glad to see Spike recovering. I have to admit, while I do miss the old glory days with a chapter a day, Quality over Quantity.
6381180
May have to just stick to LARPing then instead.
6381481
The slowing down is mostly due to my gap year and not assigning time specifically to write. When I leave for uni in a few weeks, things might step up again.
Should be
'
Should be
It wood be funny if spike found a lost changeling imprisend by the mandoloriens and help him/her escape to the jedi and help spike go back to ponyvill or some thing like that. But on a nother note i like this chapter
6422932 I wouldn't call it funny but it would be cool.
At this rate, Spike's gonna wind up entirely machine.
8032566
More like Grievous
Ah, is this one of the doctors that tried to bring someone back to life by, and I quote, "fucking the life back into them"?
This was a really nice chapter. Very calming, seeing how spike is taking some time for himself.