• Published 9th Oct 2013
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The Dragon and the Force - FenrisianBrony



Spike disappears from Equestria, and ends up surrounded by Jedi

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But the Legend Never Dies

Spike stayed silent as he waited outside of the lift to the council chambers, ignoring the glares of the two guards who clearly recognised him from last time. This time however, he wasn’t trying to force his way up, nor was he angry. For once, Spike was perfectly calm and composed before seeing the council. Truth be told he couldn’t remember the last time he had spoken to them with such a level head.

Suddenly, the doors to the lifted opened with a soft hiss, the guards begrudgingly moving aside to allow Spike to walk through. The lift doors slid shut as he began his ascent upwards, preparing himself for what he was going to say. He didn’t know how the council would take his request, but he was at least going to ask. He owed it to Solaris.

Finally Spike reached the top, walking into the centre of the council chambers as he had done so many times before, waiting for its members to acknowledge his presence.

“I must say, it was a surprise that you actually requested a meeting for once, Spike,” Kavar spoke softly. “Usually you just barge in unannounced. But then I suppose this is not a normal time, is it?”

“No, Kavar,” Spike shook his head.

“Well then, let us hear your request,” Kavar sat back in his chair.

“I wish to preside over Solaris’s funeral,” Spike began, looking around at the others. “She was my Master, I was the last one to speak to her, and we were friends even after I was knighted. She never took another Padawan, and I like to think that means I knew her better than anyone else.”

“Out of the question,” Atris shook her head. “The funeral of such a prominent Jedi should be taken by a member of the council.”

“You never saw eye to eye with her methods in life, do not deface her memory by saying you saw her as one of the prominent Jedi,” Spike snapped. “And do not insult my intelligence by claiming that your quick refusal has anything to do with her being honoured, Atris.”

“Spike, please lower your tone,” Kavar cut in. “And Atris, I would respectfully ask for you to not allow your personal feelings to sway this matter.”

“Very well,” Atris nodded, albeit reluctantly.

“As for your request, Spike,” Kavar turned back to face Spike. “Atris does speak the truth, Solaris was one of our older members, she is a link to the past. Such an affair is usually well represented by Jedi from all walks. I am not sure you would be the most intelligent choice to speak at the funeral, considering your…checked past.”

“Now I don’t think that’s fair,” Vrook spoke up. “Spike speaks the truth, none of us knew Solaris to the extent he did. If we truly wish to honour the life of one such as her, surely we should let the one who knew her best speak on her behalf.”

“Thank you, Vrook,” Spike nodded gratefully, before addressing the council as a whole. “I am asking you for permission because this is the right thing to do, and you know it. This council and I haven’t seen eye to eye on many things, maybe there were even some things I was in the wrong about, but this is not one of them. Please, allow to honour her memory. She was my friend, and I’m fast running out of those.”

“Very well then, Spike,” Kavar nodded. “You will be allowed to take the funeral for Master Solaris, and we will ensure it is slated to happen before your ship out to Fireshot Station.”

“Thank you, Kavar,” Spike bowed his head. “I am in your debt.”

“Maybe we could work on you showing that then,” Kavar chuckled softly. “It was admittedly refreshing to have you walk in here announced for once.”

“I’m sure,” Spike managed a smile, before turning and heading out of the council chambers.

***

Spike hadn’t been in this room for a long time, and yet even without his cybernetic brain he would have remembered every detail of it. This was the last place he has seen Asho before her funeral, and now it would be the last place he would see Solaris.

Looking around once more to check that everyone who was supposed to be present was present, Spike started to speak.

“Master Solaris was a great warrior, and a better friend. She was not the perfect Jedi by any means, but nor did she want to be. She was controversial in her approach to things, something that earnt her no small amount of ire from those above her, and that controversy was passed to me. In spite of that she never tried to change, she didn’t wanted to be anything she wasn’t, and what she was was a fighter.”

Spike paused as he looked down at Solaris’s face, before waving his hand over her, the sheet bearing the symbol of the Jedi moving up to fully cover her.

“When we remember her, remember her as a warrior, it’s what she would have wanted. And for those who knew her best, remember her as a friend. In current times, friends like Solaris are hard to come by.”

Spike nodded once, the symbol being instantly picked up on, and the plinth that Solaris was resting upon began to lower itself into the ground.

“She is one with the force now, and although she is gone, remember that in time, we too will pass on, and also become one with the force. We are luminous beings, filled with life and passion, but we are only temporary vessels, our bodies are simply containers for the immortal force, and the magic of the universe. I ask now for a moment of silence, to remember her, and to know that we must move on for her. We must live our lives for the living Jedi, and those that have become one with the force will live on through us, through our memories, forever.”

As soon as the doors above the plinth slid shut, a beam of pure yellow plasma shot downwards, instantly incinerating the mortal remains of Solaris. Soon the ashes would be sealed away into a container, and normally that container would then be transferred to a Jedi envoy craft, and the ashes scattered across the stars. Spike had seen to it that he would be the one given that task instead, and he was going to ensure that she was finally laid to rest in the space around Fireshot. She had spent most of her life there, it seemed only fitting to Spike.

Slowly the Jedi in the room started to file out, until only Katara was left. Spike smiled at her as he scrutinised the doors on the floor, before turning to face her properly.

“Thank you for coming, Katara. It means a lot to have you here.”

“Of course, master,” Katara returned the smile. “I couldn’t leave you to do this on your own, even if you hadn’t asked me. How are you feeling?”

“Solaris died of old age, that’s no way for a warrior like her to go,” Spike sighed. “I know it sounds strange, but I know she would have preferred to have been killed in her prime, rather than fading from memory, bound to a bed.”

“What happened to the whole ‘she lives on through our memories’?” Katara asked, folding her arms.

“She does live on, through me, through anyone else who knew her,” Spike pointed out. “Doesn’t mean I can’t say she wouldn’t have wanted to go like this though.”

“And how do you want to go, Master? In battle, or peacefully in old age?”

“I don’t even know if I will ever will die of old age,” Spike shook his head. “I’ve never heard of a dragon dying of old age, and from every test I’ve run on myself I think my cells regenerate fast enough that that isn’t just myth. Hell I can get over small injuries quickly, give it enough time and I might even be able to grow my arm and legs back.”

“You didn’t answer the question, master,” Katara pressed. “I don’t want to see you here at all if I can avoid it, but I also don’t want to see you here with a hole in your head from dying in battle.”

“Katara, look at me. If I die, I don’t think it will ever be away from a battlefield, and I don’t think I’ll end up here either. For one thing I don’t know what it would take to burn me up.”

He let out a laugh as he tried to lighten the mood, Katara staying stony faced as he slowly stopped.

“It’s a joke, Katara. And if you want to know the truth, you’re never going to have to bury me, Katara, it’s far more likely that I’ll bury you. I’m a warrior, Katara, a product of my Master and the times I’ve lived in. Those around me don’t always live long, and I don’t want to see you here. That’s my problem, Katara. Now come on, we should get moving, the Fireshot Fleet is still in need of a commander.”

***

Spike ran his hands over the hull of Harmony, examining the tears in the armour before patting it lovingly. The ship was surrounded by a slew of scaffolding, men, women and droids scurrying over it as they sought to repair all the damage done in the battle against the Sith. On top of that, new parts were being attached to it, and Spike briefly wondered if he would recognise the ship once it was finished.

Turning away from his ship, Spike headed towards the exit of the dry-dock on Fireshot, leaving the repair crews to do their work. With luck, the ship would be ready before the fleet he was now in charge of was called to action, otherwise Spike was going to have to select a command ship from those now under his command.

The fleet was exactly like Spike remembered from the end of the Mandalorian Wars, only a few new ships having been added to the roster in the form of a trio of Hammerhead Cruisers. One of those was already spoken for as a command ship, Katara having taken it shortly after they had arrived. His Padawan had barely spoken to him since Solaris’s funeral, and when quizzed on why she had been uncharacteristically enigmatic and distant.

“Sir,” one of the captains of the fleet ran up to him as he walked. “We’ve had a message through from High Command, maximum encryption level.”

“From Tao-ni?” Spike asked as he walked, taking one of the corridors towards the command centre of the station.

“Not from the man himself but it certainly bears his seal of approval,” the captain responded. “The techs are currently decrypting the message, but they should have it ready by the time we get there.”

“Thank you, go back to your ship, I have a feeling this message isn’t going to be a friendly ‘welcome to your new command’.”

“Yes, admiral,” the man saluted, before walking off.

“Admiral?” Spike murmured as he walked, mulling the word over. “Well, it sounds more interesting than general at least.”

Spike was still debating the merits of the various titles he had to choose from when he arrived at the command centre, the men guarding it snapping to attention as he entered.

“Has the message from High Command been decoded yet?” Spike called out to no one in particular.

“It has, sir,” one of them people present called back.

“Display it on screen. Commodores, front and centre.”

Five men quickly stood up, standing beside Spike as the central screen came alive, displaying a video from one of Tao-ni’s direct underlings.

“This message is directly addressed Jedi Master Spike and the command staff of the Fireshot Fleet, coming directly from Supreme Commander Tao-ni. Enclosed is a written dictation of this message and all known information on what follows. Long range sensors at Rhommamool in the Tynna Sector have picked Sith fleet movements near the planet of Allanteen, a world the Sith have contested for almost a month. We lost all contact with the few Republic outposts still holding on there last week, and if Intel is to be believed there was a new fleet approaching the planet before they went dark. We believe this fleet will now capitalise on this momentum and make an attack run towards the Core from the south, splitting our forces even more. You are to engage that Sith fleet at the world of Vasdu and ensure that they cannot push into the Inner Rim. If you cannot destroy the fleet then you must damage it sufficiently that it will not have the power for a protracted campaign. A failure here could mean the end of this war, something you must not allow to pass. With the relative speed of your ships you should be able to reach Vasdu in three days, and the Sith fleet is reported to be five days away. Time is of the essence, I pray your hand is swift.”

The video went silent, Spike turning to the commanders he had called to him.

“Rhommamool, Allanteen and Vasdu? I have never heard of any of these worlds,” one of the men muttered.

“I have,” Spike shook his head. “I visited them all after the Great Sith War to help them rebuild.”

“Coincidence?” one asked.

“I hope so, not many people knew which worlds I visited,” Spike nodded, before looking at his datapad, the data from the message transferring directly to it. “This isn’t much to go on, numbers of the smaller Sith fleet and projected numbers of the new fleet. We have very little concrete evidence and what we do have isn’t good.”

“With the estimates we’ve been provided we will be outnumbered,” one of the men ran some calculations before speaking again. “By a factor of one to one point seven eight five.”

“It’s not the worst odds I’ve ever had, but we’re technologically outmatched as well,” Spike sighed. “Regardless, we have the defensive advantage. Please tell me we have some defences on or around Vasdu?”

“There are six space stations in geosynchronous orbit around Vasdu, as well as two ion cannons and a Hypervelocity gun on the surface. With luck all of the ground defences will be in range when the fleet arrives, and two space stations are always in range of each other, so at minimum we have two of them at any given point in time. At maximum we have two space stations and the ground defences.”

“Still not good odds,” one of the commodores sighed.

“But better than they were,” Spike shrugged. “Battle plans will be decided on route to Vasdu, I want every ship under your command ready for a full fleet engagement before the day is out. This is going to be brutal gentlemen, a lot of men and ships aren’t going to be coming back from this. The Fireshot Fleet was supposed to be disbanded, people call it obsolete. Let’s make sure that if this is our last action, they remember us, and why we’re the oldest fleet in the galaxy.”

***

Spike let out a sigh as he approached the door to the bridge of Katara’s Hammerhead Cruiser, pausing before he crossed the threshold.

“Permission to come onto the bridge?”

“Permission granted of course, master,” Katara replied, not looking round as she checked on the data on one of the holoscreens. “My ship is ready to go master, you did not need a personal visit to verify that.”

“No, but it’s far easier to have a conversation with someone in person,” Spike countered. “Katara there is a wall between us, I don’t want it there anymore.”

“Well I’m sure an out and out warrior like you will do your best to dismantle that wall,” Katara retorted.

“Katara I do not want to fight,” Spike insisted.

“Well that’s a bit different that’s usual,” Katara snapped. “I thought you were a warrior because of your master, and that those around you didn’t live long.”

“I did not mean anything by it. I simply wanted to impress upon you why I said what I did about Solaris. I am a warrior but that doesn’t mean that all I know how to do is fight.”

“Rich news when we’re heading for battle,” Katara rolled her eyes. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some last minute checks I need to do on my ship. I trust you can see yourself out.”

“Katara, please…” Spike began, but Katara had already brushed past him.

Letting out a sigh, Spike turned to follow her, heading back towards the airlock and towards his own ship.

***

“All ships are reporting ready for deployment, admiral,” one of the bridge crew called. “Shall I give the order to head for the jump point?”

“Do it,” Spike nodded, sitting down on his new command throne.

Spike had taken an ancient Republic Command Ship to be his flagship for the fleet, the gargantuan ship far exceeding anything currently used by the navy, harking back to a time when battles were won through sheer weight of fire and armour. It had been equipped with some shields recently, which was a vast improvement on the old design, but it still showed its age. Most of the turbolasers were now outdated, and it was much slower than the majority of ships in the galaxy, a far cry from the sheer speed of Harmony. Indeed the only reason Spike had taken this ship as his command over one of the Hammerheads was the sensor array, the system of scanners being sufficiently large as befitted a ship designed to coordinate fleets. With it, Spike could see accurate positions of his entire fleet down to the meter, something even the old Inexpugnable-class command ships had struggled to do with this many numbers of varying ship designs.

“Take us to the jump point and order all ships to form up on us,” Spike ordered, watching as the ship moved forward agonisingly slowly. “As soon as every one of them is in position, make the jump. We have a Sith fleet to stop.”

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