Eternal Father
Like in all things, the Empire calculated all of the pathways ahead of them and carefully considered each possibility. Conflict with the Silver Jedi was not only probable, but it was also inevitable. Sith-Imperial High Command, under the guidance of the Pyramid of Military Command, charted several battle plans for conflict with the Empire’s southern Jedi neighbors. Each one had their own advantages and disadvantages, yet the greatest fear that the Admirals and Generals of the Sith harbored in their hearts was that a military build-up for any of them would telegraph their intentions to the Jedi.
So a compromise was made, the Empire would mobilize their legions along the border to mask key troop movements. With such a wide-ranging build-up, it was believed that the Jedi wouldn’t be able to fully anticipate where the hammer would fall.
Yet when it seemed that the hammer was about to fall, the Empire launched dozens of different aggressive pushes into the Silver Jedi rather than one concentrated push. It wasn’t until many of the Silver Jedi’s forces were tied up elsewhere that the Emperor took to the field himself, bringing with him a sizable majority of the Empire’s might with him to strike at the true target of the massive offensive.
Kintan.
Multiple fleets pooled out of hyperspace from the Mara Corridor, dozens of battlecruisers and smaller destroyers materializing from the void above the desert world. Fighters swarmed and clashed with pinpricks of brilliant light marking both their fury and their termination.
Among the multitude that spilled out of hyperspace into battle were several Ferrata-class assault landers, each of them holding an entire Legionnaire army inside their cavernous holds. They dropped in low, close to the planet amidst a myriad of escort ships that came out of hyperspace with them. The lead ship, codenamed Hope’s Bane, steered down towards the planet’s atmosphere with animalistic abandon. Siege Breakers dropped in alongside them, their orbital autocannons punched noticeable holes in the bulwark shield that protected the hemisphere surrounding the planet’s main fortress.
Deep within its hold was the Emperor of the Sith, his naked body, smeared with scented oils, meticulously attended to as his armor was assembled piece by piece. Surrounding him were supplicants rendered blind, deaf, and dumb by the Emperor’s cutting blades. None save for those of the most exalted rank were allowed to see the Emperor’s scarred and burned flesh, and even those that aided in his armoring were not permitted to gaze upon him.
The last piece of armor was affixed, and the supplicants fled into the gloom that ringed the sanctuary. The one who remained held aloft a plush cushion upon which sat the Emperor’s instruments of wrath; his lightsabers. With a wave of his hand, he called them to his grasp, hooking them at his waist as he departed the sanctum.
Crownguard Protectors fell in behind him as he walked, their silent vigilance marked only by the sound of their feet upon the durasteel deck. They were bound to serve the Emperor in life and in death and were more than eager to lay down their lives in his defense. They trusted nothing and no one, not even the Emperor’s own wives were safe from their scathing scrutiny.
The lander’s bridge filled the Emperor’s gaze as he strode through the threshold, the captain of the vessel turning to face him with a rigid salute.
“We’re entering the atmosphere, Supreme Excellency.”
Already the periphery of flames began to lick at the bridge’s viewports, the darkness of the void trickling away and replaced by cloud and blood-red sky.
“Excellent,” replied the Emperor in his grating baritone, “Disengage engines and transfer all power to shields and maneuverability jets, we’ll let gravity hasten our descent.” Known as the Prazutis Plunge, the maneuver had been coined for the Shadow Hand’s own stratagem during the Battle of Voss. Without further word, the Emperor left the bridge as quickly as he stormed it, heading down towards one of the many launch bays which ringed the massive transport.
When the transport reached the altitude of forty-thousand meters, the blast doors which protected the hangar bays from external intrusion opened simultaneously. The first to launch was the vessel’s smaller gunships and landing craft, spewing out from the vessel’s sides and belly like a great swarm of locusts. Then came the larger vessels, walker carriers and other ships which were too large and cumbersome to launch initially. Following them was another ship, a dark-plated shuttle that pulsed with a malignant aura of dread and violence.
The Emperor watched the altimeter of his shuttle intently, meditating on the violence he was about to drown the world of Kintan with.