Sahaad XXVI: War Machines

The galaxy stretched endlessly, cold and uncaring, as the Imperators prepared for what would be the culmination of a century of relentless warfare. 

They had not spoken a word since the last jump into Entil space. There was no need. Communication had become instinctual—movements, gestures, and calculated glances replaced what once had been words of camaraderie.

They stood in the armory of their ship, the dim light reflecting off the polished black-and-red plating of their armor. Sahaad moved with the same detached precision as the rest, checking his plasma blade and wrist-mounted launcher. He no longer thought about Kato's death. It was buried deep beneath layers of genetic conditioning and decades of missions. But something lingered—some phantom ache that threatened to surface. He forced it back, locking it away.

The briefing room was silent as a holographic display illuminated the last bastion of the Entil, Keiloria Prime. Once a beacon of their culture and religious devotion, the planet was now a pale shadow of itself. Its atmosphere choked with ash, its cities reduced to ruins. 

The last remnants of the Entil's fleet orbited the planet, forming a desperate blockade. A futile effort to protect the planet's last city and their temple.

Sahaad's voice broke the silence, sharp and devoid of emotion. "Our objective is simple. No survivors."

The Imperators nodded in unison. There were no questions, no hesitation. It was the same directive they had carried out countless times before.

The descent toward Keiloria Prime was turbulent, the ship rattling as it cut through the atmosphere. Outside the reinforced viewport, the planet sprawled below—a grim tapestry of destruction. Vast oceans boiled under relentless bombardment, and the few remaining cities clung to life like dying embers.

Sahaad's gaze remained fixed on the viewport. He felt no pride in what they had accomplished, nor regret. He felt nothing at all.

When the ship landed, the Imperators moved in perfect synchronization. The landing bay doors hissed open, revealing the battle-scarred landscape. Entil soldiers scrambled to form a defense, their movements panicked and uncoordinated.

The Imperators stepped into the chaos, their presence like an unrelenting storm. 

Zara took point, launching phosphorus shells into the densely packed settlements. The chemical ignited on contact, blanketing entire districts in a choking, searing fire that clung to skin and bone. 

Entil civilians—males, females, even children—screamed as the fire consumed them, their cries echoing through the smog-filled air. Those who tried to flee found their paths blocked by collapsing buildings or were gunned down by automated drones deployed by Nate.

Sahaad surveyed the carnage with an unreadable expression, issuing new orders as the colony's defenders scrambled to regroup.

"Deploy the nanomachines," he commanded.

Ji activated the release mechanism, and thousands of microdrones, imperceptible to the naked eye, dispersed into the atmosphere. 

These life-eating machines swarmed the Entil defenders, embedding themselves into their flesh and consuming organic material at the cellular level. 

Soldiers fell screaming, their bodies disintegrating into piles of ash and molten flesh as the nanomachines devoured them alive. Those who survived long enough to witness the devastation ran blindly, only to be overtaken by the swarm.

The Imperators marched forward, stepping over the writhing remains of their enemies. Zara aimed her plasma rifle at a group of fleeing civilians, her shots cutting them down with mechanical precision.

In one of the colony's makeshift hospitals, the Entil medics worked tirelessly to treat the burns inflicted by the phosphorus strikes. Skin sloughed off like melted wax, and the acrid scent of charred flesh filled the air. The Imperators entered without hesitation, their boots crunching over shattered glass and debris.

"Spare no one," Sahaad ordered.

Nate raised his rifle, unleashing a torrent of plasma that turned the hospital into a furnace. Patients in their beds, medics trying to shield the wounded, all were incinerated in moments. Ji systematically cleared the adjacent rooms, ensuring no survivors remained.

By the time the Imperators departed, the colony was nothing more than ash and ruins. The Federation's message was clear: resistance was futile, and survival was a privilege that would not be granted lightly.

By the time they reached the central temple, the Entil's last bastion, the sun had begun to set, casting an eerie red glow over the battlefield. The once-majestic temple was riddled with scars, its religious iconography desecrated by the relentless assault.

The statue was a towering monolith of alien craftsmanship, a deity of the Entil people rendered in stunning detail. Its many arms, once delicately poised in gestures of grace and power, were now fractured and eroded, some snapped off entirely and lying in the rubble at its base.

Inside, the remaining priests and warriors stood in silent defiance, their prayers rising in unison. Sahaad stepped forward, his gaze sweeping over them.

"Execute them," he ordered.

The Imperators moved without hesitation. Plasma bolts and blades tore through the gathered Entil, silencing their prayers. Within minutes, the temple was empty, its sanctity defiled.

The final remaining priest kneeled, praying to their god for comfort. Sahaad stood before them towering over their prostate figure. His voice, though trembling with exhaustion, carried a weight of defiance. His eyes stared unflinchingly at Sahaad, filled with a mix of hatred and divine fervor.

"You will suffer for centuries," he proclaimed, his voice rising with a hollow echo that seemed to reverberate across the ruined temple. "I decree it from the divine! You will never know peace, and your very existence will bring an end to our universe!"

Sahaad stood over the priest, unflinching and cold, his plasma blade humming faintly in his hand. His armor was streaked with blood, alien and human, and the faint glow of regeneration pulsed beneath his torn helmet.

He said nothing in response, no acknowledgment of the words meant to curse him or pierce his psyche. To the Imperator, they were just noise—meaningless declarations from a being on the precipice of death. The priest's voice wavered slightly, perhaps expecting at least a reaction, a flicker of humanity in the towering soldier before him.

There was none.

In one fluid motion, Sahaad raised his weapon and brought it down in a swift, final strike. The energy blade seared through the priest's neck, silencing him instantly. His head fell forward, rolling to rest against the broken base of the deity's statue, his eyes frozen in the same defiant glare.

Sahaad stood in the center of the temple, staring at the altar that once symbolized the Entil's faith. He activated his comms.

"The planet is secure. Begin orbital bombardment."

As they exited the temple and boarded their vessel, the ground began to quake. Explosions rippled across the planet's surface as the fleet rained destruction from above. The Imperators watched from the safety of their ship as Keiloria Prime was engulfed in fire.

Back aboard their vessel, the Imperators stood silently in the observation deck. The planet below burned, its surface cracking and breaking apart. Sahaad watched as the Entil planet, the last stronghold of a once-proud race, crumbled into nothingness.

Now the Entil were isolated to their home system. The Federation had essentially won the war, but there was no mercy. The Entil would be completely annihilated under the federal war machine.

Zara finally broke the silence, her voice devoid of the warmth it once held. "What's next?"

Sahaad turned away from the viewport. "Whatever they tell us."

There were no celebrations, no acknowledgment of victory. For the Imperators, there was no end—only the next mission, the next target.