43. Free Fall

(A/N: Hello all! I'm gonna start doing something a little different! I'm going to start doing a Power Stone incentive for two reasons.

1- I'm genuinely curious at how far this novel can go on the rankings.

2- I want to motivate myself to post more chapters. 3 chapters a week is good (in my opinion) but i want more. I want to write more, but sometimes i dont have the motivation.

With that said, I should tell you this. My priority will always and forever be my lovely wifey. Many of you might know her health is always constantly fluctuating, and so if she needs me, I might have to take a week off or so. (It's happened in the past) However, I will always keep you all updated as to when and if that happens.

My second priority is schooling. Many of you might know I'm going to school for welding, which doesn't give much homework, but when exams and end of semester roll around writing might have to take a back seat as well. Again, not sure if that will happen, but I'll keep you informed.

NOW! Onto the power stone rankings!

This book gets about 100-150 stones each week, so I think a good starting point would be 200.

200 PS - 1 extra chapter

300 PS - 2 extra chapters.

Let's just start from there, and see how that goes!

Thank you all so much for reading, I appreciate each and every single one of you!

FOR THE EMPEROR!

===Maximus===

The atmosphere inside the Battle Barge was thick with tension, the hum of machinery and the low rumble of the engines providing a constant backdrop. The three Astartes, their armor gleaming with the remnants of battle, stood before the holographic projection of Tatooine, their eyes scanning the map. Raxor, who had managed to get most of the Barge operational after their successful campaign, was overseeing the operations, standing slightly off to the side.

The map of Tatooine flickered before them, showing the desolate planet's harsh deserts, dotted with various cities and settlements. Data marks were scattered across the map, each one representing a city, a key strategic location, or a target of interest. But it was the looming presence of a large, marked area that caught Maximus' attention—an area that seemed to unsettle even the Death Watch officers standing in the room.

Maximus, his voice low and commanding, turned to the gathered officers and fixated on one of the projections. "Tell me more of this... Hutt. The natives fear it. Why?" His voice was calm, but his eyes, sharp and calculating, bore into the men, demanding an answer.

The officer closest to him, the hardened Death Watch veteran, Jarek, stepped forward, his expression grim. "The Hutt is a figure of terror, Lord Maximus. He controls the underworld on Tatooine. Jabba the Hutt, to be specific, is a crime lord who rules with fear, his influence stretching far beyond the borders of the planet. The natives, and many of the criminals here, are bound to him by various debts, loyalties, and coercion."

Maximus' eyes narrowed. "Fear? You speak of coercion. Yet the fear of a creature such as this is not simply the result of debts. There is something deeper here."

Jarek hesitated for a moment before continuing. "The Hutt's influence runs through the slave trade, black market dealings, and all manner of unsavory practices. He's feared because he can make entire towns disappear, erase people without a trace. It's not just his wealth or power—it's his ruthlessness and the network he commands."

The hologram flickered and shifted, the image of Jabba the Hutt now looming large in front of the group. His bloated form was sprawled across his throne, surrounded by his grotesque courtiers, the flicker of his slimy tail visible in the dim light. His presence was repulsive, his form a mockery of life itself. His very existence seemed to disgust everything around him, a festering boil on the face of Tatooine.

"Disgusting," Sebastian muttered under his breath, his voice low and venomous. His hand clenched tighter around the railing he leaned against, the metal creaking under the pressure of his grip. His words were filled with such contempt that his hatred was clear to everyone in the room. For the Black Templar, Jabba's very existence was an affront to everything they stood for.

"We can't let it live!" Sebastian's voice rose, hard and resolute, as he stepped away from the hologram, his figure casting a long shadow in the dim light of the Barge. "He represents everything that is wrong with this galaxy. Everything that should be eradicated!"

Maximus, ever the tactician, observed his brother's fury with a detached calm. His mind was already weighing the options, analyzing the situation. He had always been one to focus on the bigger picture, but he understood the necessity of dealing with the filth that clung to the galaxy, piece by piece.

He turned to Sebastian with a calculating gaze. "What do you think we should do then?" Maximus asked, his voice measured. There was no rush in his words, no impatience—just a keen interest in how his brother would approach the problem.

Sebastian lowered his head, his gaze darkening as the gears in his mind turned. The silence in the room stretched on for a moment, the only sound being the low hum of the Barge's systems working tirelessly in the background. Then, as if the weight of the decision had settled on his shoulders, Sebastian raised his head, his eyes flashing with a sudden, fierce intensity. A smile, twisted and almost predatory, crept onto his lips under his helmet.

"We make an example of Jabba the Hutt, of everything he represents. His fortress? Destroyed. His followers? Exterminated. We will make the galaxy know that there is no place for corruption like his to thrive," Sebastian declared, his voice rising with conviction. The fire in his optics was unmistakable—he was ready for war.

Maximus nodded slowly, his mind already turning over the logistics of such an operation. It was bold, brutal, and exactly the kind of statement the Black Templars were known for. Yet, he knew there was more to it than just destruction. They needed to ensure that the eradication of Jabba and his empire would leave a lasting impact—something more than just a violent purge.

"It's a bold plan," Maximus said, his tone thoughtful but approving. "But it will have consequences. This is no mere criminal. Jabba's network stretches far and wide. Killing him will not only draw the ire of his allies but could create a power vacuum, one that will be filled by those who may pose a greater threat to us than him."

Sebastian's smile didn't waver. "Then we step in to fill it. One fell swing, and his entire operation is ours."

"Operation Arc Interference," Maximus stated, his tone cold.

Sebastian's laugh broke the tension, a loud and guttural sound that resonated through the room, echoing off the metal walls. His eyes shone with anticipation, the thrill of the coming bloodshed obvious in his expression. "Arc Interference..." he repeated, savoring the sound of the operation's name as he remembered one of their earliest operations as a unit.

He turned to Raxor, who stood nearby, a faint smile on his lips as he recalled the origins of the plan. The grin on his face deepened, recalling a time when such operations had been mere theory, but it had worked out splendidly.

"They'll never see us coming," Raxor said, his voice smooth with confidence.

Maximus stepped forward, his fingers lightly brushing the data console as he brought up the full layout of Jabba's palace. The fortress was an impenetrable stronghold, surrounded by layers of defenses and guarded by hundreds of mercenaries, hired guns, and even creatures trained to protect the Hutt's life.

"Then it is settled," Maximus said, turning his eyes back to Sebastian, his voice low and commanding. "We'll begin the assault at once. Prepare the Death Watch. We strike at dawn. No mercy, no hesitation. Jabba's reign ends now."

Sebastian's smile grew wider, his hand resting on the hilt of his blade. "It will be glorious, brother."

The room filled with the sound of heavy footsteps and the clattering of armor as the Black Templar and the Death Watch moved to prepare for the assault. As the hologram of Jabba the Hutt flickered and disappeared, a sense of finality hung in the air. The time for talk was over. The time for action had come.

The cleansing of Tatooine had already begin—and nothing, not even the infamous Hutt, would stand in their way.

===

High in the atmosphere of Tatooine, Maximus, his brothers, and the Death Watch stood aboard their ships, their gaze fixed on a hologram of Jabba's palace.

Maximus hummed to himself as he studied the projection, his arms folded.

"Are you sure this will work?" Bo-Katan asked, standing next to Sebastian. She had been reinstated to the Death Watch and now stood at the Black Templar's side, her armor reflecting the pale light of the hologram.

Maximus glanced over at her, his expression calm. "Yes. As long as we land at the correct spot." He pointed to a highlighted area of the palace on the hologram, indicating the roof.

"So, we just—"

Bo-Katan raised an eyebrow, her hand making a quick diving motion, as if punching through the roof of the palace.

Maximus smiled, a cold gleam in his blood red optics. "Exactly."

The plan was simple, but its execution would require precision and unwavering discipline. Maximus turned to the crew, his voice steady and commanding. "We strike at the heart of the beast. We hit hard, hit fast, and burn it to the ground."

Raxor, who had been quietly observing the operations, stepped forward. "The defenses are heavy. Hundreds of mercenaries, war droids, and even creatures to guard the palace. It will be no easy task."

Sebastian grinned, his hand instinctively tightening around the hilt of his blade. "We've faced worse." His voice was laced with unshakable confidence. "They'll never see us coming."

Maximus nodded, turning back to the hologram. The palace loomed large, a massive fortress of stone and steel, a symbol of Jabba's corrupt empire. The layers of defense surrounding it would be formidable, but Maximus had already accounted for that. The key to success was in the timing, the element of surprise.

"I trust you have the data ready?" Maximus asked Raxor, his voice calm yet commanding.

Raxor gave a slight nod, the smile fading from his face as he tapped a few buttons on the console in front of him. "The coordinates are locked in. We'll be on the ground within minutes. Your orders are clear."

Maximus turned to the rest of the team. "We take no prisoners. Prepare to launch."

With that, Maximus turned toward the ramp of the Thunderhawk as it began to lower, the roar of the engines filling the air.

"Squad Alpha, ready."

"Squad Beta, ready."

The rest of the Death Watch squads checked in, each voice steady and unwavering, their resolve clear. Maximus, Sebastian, and Raxor stood at the ramp's edge, staring down at the distant palace far below, the desolate landscape of Tatooine stretching beneath them.

Maximus' gaze lingered on the fortress. This was the moment.

"All squads, drop." His voice was a calm command, but there was no mistaking the authority behind it.

He hefted his new Thunder Hammer, the massive weapon a new addition to his arsenal, its weight a satisfying reminder of the strength he wielded. It had been uncovered during the inventory check, and now it served as a formidable secondary weapon—one that would make a statement in battle.

The three Astartes stepped forward, and without hesitation, their new jump packs roared to life, propelling them downwards. In a flash, they were gone, plummeting toward the planet below, the sand and rock of Tatooine rushing up to meet them.

All was silent as they plummeted towards the palace, the winds howling around them as the ground neared at an alarming speed. The only sound that filled the air was the steady hum of their jump packs, propelling them down with ruthless precision.

Maximus was in the lead. His eyes were fixed on the target below, calculating the trajectory. His hand tightened around the hilt of his Thunder Hammer, the weapon a stark contrast to the speed and violence of their descent.

"Prepare for impact," he commanded, his voice cold and steady, cutting through the roaring wind.

The three Astartes, synchronized in movement, adjusted their bodies mid-air. Their jump packs flared as they reoriented, each one of them locking into position as they neared the ceiling of Jabba's palace.

The palace's metal roof loomed closer with each passing second, the heat of the desert still radiating off its surface. Then, with a force that could shatter mountains, they slammed into the ceiling.

The impact sent a tremor through the entire structure. Stone cracked, and dust exploded outward in a blinding cloud, obscuring their figures for a moment. The sound of the impact reverberated throughout the palace, alerting every guard and mercenary to the threat that had just descended upon them.

As the dust settled, the mercenaries below froze in place, their eyes darting around in confusion and fear. The only thing they could see were three sets of red optics glowing from the darkness above them, like the eyes of predators stalking their prey.

A silence filled the air, thick with tension, before each Astartes slowly rose from the rubble.

"No mercy."

===

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