Freedom
The three figures quickly hurried along the dark corridor, one of them wearing long robes and carrying a Lightsaber at her hip, showing her status as a Jedi, while the other two wore the uniform of the Republic Penitentiary Force, their rifles and stun batons holstered, ready at a moment’s notice if needs arose. Not that any of the prisoners there would try.
The prison the three were walking through was known as the Black Cage, the maximum security facility on Coruscant. There hadn’t been an attempted breakout here in almost ten years, and that had been put down quickly and efficiently. There was still some sparse violence between the inmates, but that was usually localised to two or three individuals, and was quickly contained and dealt with. Some of the worst scum in the galaxy was held here, a fact that the two guards were keen to impress upon the Jedi.
“I don’t know what you’re hoping to find here,” the Jedi muttered. “Half the people in here, they’d kill you as soon as they’d look at you, and the other half would do the same, except they’d rape you first.”
“I would like to see them try,” one of the Jedi replied. “As we have said we are not looking for these prisoners in general, just one, put here by Jedi orders, and to be released by the same.”
“I know the one you’re talking about,” the guard nodded. “He hasn’t been any trouble for the guards since he was brought in. For the other scum in here though, he’s far less peaceful. We’ve had to move him to solitary more than once to keep the others safe. He kill one of your lot then?”
“Nah, I heard he was a disgraced war criminal or somethin’,” the other one shook his head. “Went off the deep end and killed some people he shouldn’t have.”
“Lies,” the Jedi whispered softly.
“I’m sorry, master Jedi?”
“They’re lies, the stories you’ve both heard. He fought in the Mandalorian Wars, he was a hero, but he made enemies. Powerful ones at that.”
“A Jedi making powerful enemies and getting thrown in prison?” one of the guards asked. “That seems strange, but I’m not going to argue with it. Here we are, cell 171. Hey, prisoner, stand back against the far wall and do not move, you have a visitor.”
There was a soft scraping sound as the prisoner moved within the cell, before the guards opened the door, unholstering their rifles and following the Jedi in. The cell was dark, the lights above not flickering on properly, forcing the new arrivals to squint.
“Well well, a visitor? I haven’t had one of those since I was first thrown in here. A year and a half ago.”
The prisoner’s voice rumbled like an angry volcano as he walked forward, coming out of the gloom, standing halfway into the light. The two guards instinctively tightened their grips on their rifles, but the jedi seemed un-phased, smiling slightly as the prisoner spoke again.
“I didn’t expect it to be you, Katara, I expected it to be the White Bitch coming to gloat.”
“I’ve missed you, master,” Katara smiled, looking up at Spike, remembering the last time she had seen him in the flesh.
***
One and a Half Years Earlier
***
Spike and Katara sat opposite each other, their eyes closed as they opened themselves to the living force, their bodies slowly rising off of the ground. They had been here for six months already, rarely seeing anyone except for the odd supply run into the nearby town, keeping themselves in solitude as best they could.
The world, an Agriworld by the name of Vegeas IV, had been a blessing to Spike, the peaceful tones and the quite feelings he got there helping to calm him, and to help him to come to terms with some of the memories from the Mandalorian War. That was not to say he had forgotten the experiences of the battle, but rather he was overcoming them, and helping Katara to overcome her own doubts.
In the six months since they had come here she had grown immensely, both in power and in mind, growing up from a child who had seen far too much to a young woman who Spike was proud to say he knew. More than once she had helped resolve disputes on the planet peacefully, that otherwise might have turned to bloodshed, and she had become something of a mediator when two groups argued who were simply too powerful or influential to be mediated by the planetary governor alone.
Suddenly Spike’s eyes shot open and he looked to the skies, the clouds parting as a Hammerhead cruiser descended towards the planet, a wing of fighters flanking it, heading straight towards them.
“No no no no no,” Spike hissed as he watched the fighters streak towards him. “Why are they here? Can they not leave us alone?”
“Maybe they’re not here for us?” Katara suggested.
“This isn’t a Republic world, and they’re coming straight for us,” Spike shook his head. “They’re here for us. Get Harmony prepped, I want her ready in case we do need to go.”
“How did they even find us?” Katara asked. “I thought we covered our tracks to the point where they couldn’t track us down.”
“Yeah, so did I,” Spike nodded. “It doesn’t matter how they found us, just that they did. Now, go and warm up Harmony.”
Katara nodded, turning and beginning to run towards the ship as Spike spread his wings, beating them a few times as he rose into the air. The fighters quickly angled after him, and Spike let out a groan. Before he was only ninety nine percent certain they were here for him. Now it was a hundred percent.
Turning in mid-air, Spike began to speed away from the fighters that were now certainly following after him, drawing them away from Katara as she got Harmony ready. Spike already knew where he was going to go, having planned for just this eventuality in his head, and sped towards the canyons that lay to the east of their meditation spot, just before the first shot streaked past him.
“Fucking hell!” Spike swore, glancing back at the fighters. “What are you playing at?!”
He didn’t receive any response, instead more shots leaping out towards him as he began to duck and dive, finally reaching the canyon, shooting between two of the rocks. Some of the fighters broke off from their pursuit, pulling up sharply and circling overhead, but some of the braver, or perhaps more foolish, pilots followed him in, blowing out large chunks of rock as they continued to fire.
“Stop shooting!” Spike roared, his voice being snatched away by the wind, the pilots clearly not paying attention to him.
Spike twisted and turned as he flew down the canyons, occasionally planting his feet on the walls and digging his claws in, running along them to make impossibly sharp turns before taking flight once more. Only when he had shaken the fighters from his tail did he double back, heading back towards Harmony
As he shot out of the rocks, the Hammerhead cruiser descended towards him, blaster fire peppering the rocks as a single shot hit him.
The result was instantaneous, Spike’s bionics shorting out and shutting down as the ion cannon hit him. Spike tried to take a breath in, but the sudden strain on his lung made that impossible, and the static in his brain took up almost all of his attention.
He plummeted towards the ground like a stone, carving a deep trench into the ground, before lying still. His bionics were still stuttering, trying to come back into life, but the EMP was doing exactly what it was meant to do. All Spike could do was focus on his mind and his primary heart, the magic inside of him struggling to keep them powered even as the Hammerhead Cruiser landed, men spewing out of it and taking up positions around him.
One figure stepped out, and if Spike had been able to move, he would have been diving towards her, but instead he could only watch as Atris bent down beside him, looking him over. Spike wanted to flinch as she put her hand on his neck, focusing her attentions on the force as she determined if he was still living, before nodding and standing up.
“Get an engineer out here,” she ordered, standing up again. “Bring his life support systems back up to fully operational standard and remove his legs. We’ll take him back to Coruscant in pieces to stand trial.”
***
The Present Day
***
Spike had long since had his bionic arm and eye removed, as well as his tail, the metal ports now well and truly grown into his body, flesh covering them to the point where some might have to be cut away before new limbs could be attached. His true legs had likewise been removed, seen as too powerful and dangerous for an inmate to have, and had instead been replaced with weak, spindly bionics. They served to allow him to walk around, but not much more than that. The removal of his proper bionics and the addition of a neural inhibitor collar served to cut Spike off from the force and made Spike helpless in the eyes of his captors.
“A year and a half,” Spike growled again. “Five hundred and fifty four days. You could have come and seen me any time between then and now, and yet you didn’t. Why?”
“I couldn’t…” Katara began, before Spike cut her off.
“Don’t you dare give me the spiel that Atris wouldn’t let you,” his voice was more annoyed than angry now. “She doesn’t keep tabs on Black Cage as far as I’m aware, you could have got in at any point, but you didn’t. So, what do you want, Katara?”
“We need your help, Spike. There’s a war…”
“A war? How funny,” Spike snorted, gesturing to his surroundings. “I got in this place because I fought a war and the Jedi didn’t like it, now they want me to come and fight another one for them? What, are they planning to throw me back in here when it’s done, use me like an attack dog and shut me back in my cage afterwards?”
“It’s not like that, Spike,” Katara shook her head. “Please, master…”
“I’m not fighting a war for the Jedi again,” Spike snarled. “End of discussion. You wasted a trip here Katara.”
“But…”
“Get out,” Spike snapped. “I am not some mongrel pup that can be summoned whenever you need something destroyed. The council didn’t want my help in the last war, they don’t get to decide that this time they do.”
“But the council is…”
“The council can kiss me ass,” Spike sneered. “Tell them I may consider helping if they all line up one my one and kiss my metal behind. The White Bitch can go first too.”
“As you wish, master,” Katara bowed reluctantly. “If you change your mind, I will inform the guards you are allowed to call out to the temple. Please, at least consider it, master. I do not like seeing you in here. And don’t worry, I will ensure the council knows your message to the exact word.”
With a small, albeit somewhat unhappy smile, Katara turned and walked out of the cell, the guards closing the door behind her, leaving Spike on his own once more. Walking back to the far wall, Spike sat down once more, slowly extending his arm and beginning to carve into it again. A small ball of light appeared above him, magic flowing into it. The neural inhibitor did indeed make summoning the willpower to use the force difficult, but it did not limit his usage of magic, a fact he was keen to keep secret in case he ever had to fall back on it.
“Was that maybe a little too harsh?” Moonstone asked him, materialising beside him. “She did offer you a way out.”
“By fighting for them,” Spike shook his head. “I got burned once before, I will not come out just for them to do it again.”
“But if they came to you, they are clearly in trouble,” Moonstone reasoned.
“Or they just want a convenient scapegoat if something goes wrong. There’s no one left to challenge the Republic, the Mandalorians can’t have reorganised so fast. When they say war they’ll mean boarder dispute.”
“If you’re sure, Spike,” Moonstone nodded. “I would have thought you’d have jumped at the chance to get out of here.”
“This is my penitence,” Spike sighed. “My punishment for my actions in the war. If I thought there was a real need for me I would leave, but I don’t, so I’m staying here.”
“Even though you’ve just finished your little mural?” Moonstone smiled, looking at the wall. “You spend most of your time in this cell, now you’ve finished what are you going to do with yourself?”
“There’s still two more walls,” Spike pointed out, before standing back and taking a step backwards.
He smiled as he admired his handiwork, his heart aching as he looked at the carving. He’d taken it directly from his memory, taking as much time as he needed to to make sure it was perfect. It was Twilight, and all her friends, laughing and happy together, Spike smiling as he sat in Twilight’s hooves. They had taken the photo shortly after he and Twilight had first come to Ponyville, and it was this picture Spike had sought to replicate.
He ran his hand over the carving, fondly remembering the memories, before faltering as he got to his own image. He found it had to truly remember a time when he was so young, so innocent compared to how he was now. No bionics, no scars, no eyes that had seen far too much. He was just happy and carefree, as they all were.
Not for the first time, Spike wondered how they were all doing without him, if Twilight had managed to come to terms with his disappearance properly yet, even with Celestia and Luna doubting her. He pulled up the memory of the letter she had managed to send him once more, Moonstone disappearing as he lapsed into silence, beginning to read it yet again. He had read it every day since his imprisonment here, sometimes more than once, and while he would have known it off by heart even without his mechanical brain, he still liked to recall the look of the words, the smell of the parchment, and the feel of the scroll against his talons. It reminded him of far happier times, and happy memories were the one thing he had in short supply these days.
***
The unappetising looking slop landed on Spikes tray with a disgusting ‘plop’, Spike staring at it dispassionately before moving away, heading to one of the unoccupied tables. Most of the other prisoners gave him a wide berth, his reputation proceeding him, and this time was no different, Spike managing to reach the table and sit down unmolested.
Sighing, he picked up his spoon, beginning to shovel his food into his mouth, ignoring the bland taste, before a trio of prisoners that Spike hadn’t seen before approached him.
“They say you’re hot shit around here,” one of them, clearly the leader by the way he carried himself, sneered, placing his hands on the table.
Spike didn’t reply, instead simply picking up another spoonful of slop, shovelling it into his mouth and swallowing slowly.
“Hey, I’m talking to you,” the man scowled, pushing the tray off the table where it clattered to the floor.
“I hadn’t finished that,” Spike deadpanned, looking up at the man for the first time.
“Yeah, well I don’t care,” the man sneered once more. “Word is you were a Jedi once. What, your precious order through you out?”
“What do you want, new meat?” Spike asked, rolling his eyes, as he got up.
“I want revenge,” the man snarled, a small shiv appearing in his hand as he grinned at Spike. “And I don’t think a one armed cyber-freak is going to do much to stop me.”
“Revenge? What, I kill your brother?” Spike chuckled. “Been there, done that. You don’t measure up to the last guy.”
“Yeah, well tell that to Revan and the rest of the bastards that invaded my planet,” the man lunged forward with the shiv, but to Spike he might as well have been moving in slow motion.
Stepping to the side, Spike grabbed the man’s wrist, twisting it harshly, the bones snapping, forcing him to let go of the knife as he screamed.
“Revan invaded hundreds of planets in the Mandalorian Wars, be a little more specific,” Spike sneered at the screaming man.
“Y-You don’t know,” the man managed to laugh. “That’s…rich.”
“Know what,” Spike scowled.
The man didn’t despond, instead opting to spit in Spike’s face. Spike paused for a moment, the spit running down his face, before he pulled the man closer, fastening his jaws around his neck and tearing backwards, before letting the man fall to the floor.
Other prisoners were taking notice now, some crying out in shock, while most quickly backed away from Spike, eager to not become his next target. The guards were already mobilising, but Spike didn’t pay them any attention, walking towards the man’s lackeys, both of whom were quivering as he neared them.
“What, was he, talking, about?” Spike asked slowly, looking from one to another.
“T-The…the war,” one of them stammered. “T-They say that R-Revan is leading an a-army a-a-against the R-Republic.”
Spike froze as the man’s words hit home, turning as the guards approached him, bearing down on one of the nearest ones.
“Is this true?” he growled, ignoring the gun barrels in his face.
“Back in line prisoner,” the guard growled back.
“I said is it true?!” Spike roared, spittle covering the man’s face.
“The reports seem to think it is Revan, yes,” the guard wiped spit from his eyes. “Now get down on the floor prisoner or we will fire upon you.”
Spike nodded, first kneeling, then lying on the floor, the guards attaching a manacle to his wrist, the other end wrapping around his waist and locking on tight, before he was finally allowed back up. They began to frog march him out of the canteen, before Spike stopped, looking up at the mirror which he knew was one way glass, sensing the presence of the warden behind it.
“Warden, I’ll take that call to the temple now. Tell them that Spike will come out and play now.”
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You tricky bugger, I approve of this stratagem. Also I approve of the chapter :D
And thus begins one of the most stupid wars in Star Wars history.
Nice... also... for those fans of the Matrix, who is actually The One..... this is a question only those who truly know the Matrix series or watched Film Theory, would know...
Anyone else notice the Mass Effect reference?
Seriously not exactly subtlety.
Well that is pure evil! :D
I approve of this upload strategy, please employ again sometime.
When I saw a second upload for this today, I thought FIM was glitching at first.
6478305
well, it does set the tone for the rest of the Act
Those pictures at the end just cement this amazing chapter hahahaha
the peaceful tones and the quite feelings he got
What, your precious order through you out
1. Quiet.
2. Throw.
For you, it was today for others (like me) it was tomorrow
Will this story ever have a happy moment again? I miss seeing spike Happy with Solaris and Tarhal.
Also I was wondering, if Spike functions similarly to a reptile, like a crocodile for instance wouldn't his tails,limbs grow back?
6478466 That is true though :) Lets see when he gets back to Equestria and how well they react :)
so how much time have passed at equstria
6477941 that was a good episode of film theory
I'm really, REALLY wishing that the 'white bitch' ends with her pretty neck between Spike's jaws
And now we head into the depths of myself, the Emperor's manipulation, what is right, and what is wrong.