49. Back to Coruscant

(A/N: Hi all, this week i have midterms, and im stressing out about some tests that i have to do, so i might skip a chapter or so this week. I promise ill keep you updated and make it up to you.

Also im thinking of changing the name of this novel.

How does "Attack of the Adeptus Astartes" sound? "May the warp be with you" was another one, but thats been taken.

Any thoughts about a good name for this novel?)

===Maximus===

Waking up the next morning in the Bacta tank, Maximus released the latch on his facemask, allowing the healing liquid to drain. The tank hissed as it opened, and he stepped out, making his way from the medical bay to his quarters, where a group of droids stood ready to assist him in donning his armor.

The Ultramarine stood in silence as the droids worked efficiently, and within fifteen minutes, he was fully armored. He moved toward the hangar bay, where Raxor and Sebastian were waiting.

"I'm glad to see you up and about, Brother. How are you feeling?" Raxor asked, standing near a group of Mandalorians.

"Better," Maximus replied, coming to stand before them. "I'm slowly coming to terms with my new reality."

"Are we ready?" Sebastian inquired, glancing at a Mandalorian stationed next to their ship.

"We are, my Lords," the Mandalorian confirmed.

Maximus hesitated, a flicker of doubt crossing his face. "Are we sure this is a good idea? We're walking directly into enemy territory."

Raxor placed a hand on Maximus' left shoulder, resisting the urge to pull away. "Worry not, Brother. We know you're not at your best right now, and this may be just what you need. Besides, they've promised our safety."

Maximus nodded, taking a deep breath before walking toward the ship. He settled into one of the many seats, and soon after, the others joined him.

The hum of the ship's engines resonated in the background as the trio settled into their seats, the gentle sway of the craft offering an almost surreal calm in contrast to the storm of thoughts swirling in Maximus' mind. He stared out the viewport, watching as the stars stretched into brilliant streaks, the ship's speed sending them toward Coruscant at a pace that was both comforting and unnerving.

Sebastian sat across from him, his eyes fixed on the holomap of the galaxy projected before him. "I hope this goes as I expect," he remarked, breaking the silence as he folded his arms across his chest.

Maximus glanced at his brother, a furrow crossing his brow. "You sound almost... eager."

Sebastian's lips twitched, though the smile didn't quite reach his eyes. "Of course I am. There's much to be done, and little time to waste. The Senate will be a delicate audience. They're weak, and they lack the stomach, or the stones, to stand up to us." His gaze shifted briefly toward Raxor, who sat in the corner, his imposing form seemingly lost in thought.

Raxor's voice broke the quiet hum of the ship as he spoke without looking up. "They've underestimated Maximus before. They won't again."

"Perhaps, but that doesn't mean they will not crumble before the will of the Emperor."

Raxor smiled slightly before nodding. "Indeed, Brother."

The three sat in companionable silence for the rest of the journey, each lost in their thoughts, their minds focused on the task ahead. The hum of the ship's engines was the only sound that filled the air, a constant reminder of the direction they were headed: straight toward the heart of the galaxy.

After a time, the pilot's voice crackled through their vox. "Approaching Coruscant. They've given us the clear to land."

Maximus stood without a word, his brothers following suit. They each placed their helmets atop their heads, while Mandalorians gathered around them.

As the ship's landing gear touched down with a resounding thud, the doors hissed open, revealing a crowd of Mandalorians already waiting, having landed before them. As soon as the ramp lowered, they surged forward, quickly spreading out to form a tight perimeter around the Astartes. Their movements were fluid, disciplined—prepared to defend, should the need arise.

Maximus' gaze scanned the area, but his attention was quickly drawn to Sebastian, who was holding a small bag that he hadn't noticed before.

"A gift for the slugs," Sebastian said, a wry smile evident even behind his faceplate.

Maximus' confusion faded into a smirk. "A gift?" he repeated, his tone amused. "I'm guessing it's not a peace offering?"

Sebastian chuckled, the sound muffled through his helmet. "Not unless you consider a well-placed insult wrapped in a bow a gesture of goodwill."

Raxor, who had been silently observing the scene, gave a low chuckle. "This should be fun."

Maximus looked out across the bustling planet of Coruscant, the towering structures of the city-planet looming in the distance. His thoughts hardened as he took a deep breath. "Let's get this over with."

Sebastian gave a sharp nod, his smile still lingering.

With that, they marched off the ship, the Mandalorians closing ranks around them as the platform buzzed with the anticipation of what was to come. The Senate awaited, but the Astartes were ready.

As they walked towards the towering Senate building, the echoes of their boots on the polished walkway reverberated through the platform. The trio moved with purpose, the imposing figures of the Astartes drawing the occasional glance from the officials and diplomats around them. They were a force to be reckoned with, and the very air around them seemed to tighten with anticipation.

Suddenly, they came across another delegation that had just arrived, a small group of individuals, their robes and attire marking them as representatives from Naboo. At their forefront stood Queen Amidala, her youthful face stern but betraying a flicker of hesitation as her eyes met Maximus'.

Maximus' gaze hardened as he looked down at the young queen. "I am extremely disappointed in your actions, Queen Amidala," he said coldly. "I expected more from you. I had thought you had a spine, but I see I was mistaken in my judgment."

His brothers, Sebastian and Raxor, flanked him, standing in stoic silence as the confrontation unfolded.

Padmé didn't flinch, though her eyes betrayed a measure of discomfort. She stepped forward to meet his gaze, taking a moment to carefully consider her words. "What would you have me do, Maximus?" she asked, her voice calm but firm. "I cannot condone what I've seen you do. How can I let you continue to associate with Naboo after the violence and brutality I've witnessed on Tatooine?"

Maximus' lip curled into a faint sneer, and he took a step closer, towering over her. "You didn't seem to have anything to say when you yourself saw what was happening on that wretched planet," he responded, his tone dripping with disdain. "You were content to let us do as we saw fit. It's easy to condemn violence when you're planets away."

The air between them grew thick with tension. Padmé's eyes narrowed, her posture stiffening as she stood her ground. "That is not what happened, and you know it," she said, her voice sharper now, though still measured. "I was doing what I thought was right. You kill—without question, without regard for those who might suffer the consequences. What of the innocence your actions harmed?"

Maximus took a deep breath, his gaze never wavering. "The galaxy is not a place for hesitation, girl," he said, his voice cold and unwavering. "We do what is necessary. The weak will falter, the innocent will die if the strong do not act. Ask yourself this—how many innocent people did we save by our actions?"

Padmé opened her mouth to respond, but she seemed paralyzed for a moment. She could feel the pressure of his stare, the sheer presence of the Astartes looming over her.

Maximus continued, unyielding, his voice cutting through the air like a blade. "You cling to your ideals, but ideals will not save those who die in the streets, those crushed under the boot of the powerful. We are the ones who stand between order and chaos, between civilization and the black abyss."

Sebastian and Raxor remained silent, their imposing figures standing like statues behind Maximus. The tension in the air was palpable, thick with the weight of everything they had said and done.

Padmé's fists clenched, but she kept her composure. "You talk about saving lives, but at what cost?" she asked, her voice steady despite the storm within her. "You do what you think is necessary, but you leave destruction in your wake. Is that really the price of saving the galaxy? To sacrifice everything, including our humanity?"

"Do not speak to me of humanity," he replied coldly. "Survival comes first. And in the end, history will remember those who had the strength to act, not those who hesitated."

With that, he turned and began to walk away, his brothers following without a word. The silence that followed their departure was deafening, leaving Padmé standing alone with her entourage, torn between the brutal reality Maximus had described and the ideals she had fought so hard to uphold.

The three Astartes moved with unyielding purpose toward the entrance of the Senate building, their boots echoing through its grand halls. With each step, the atmosphere in the building grew heavier, as the Senators, officials, and diplomats took notice of their arrival.

As they entered, a cold, palpable silence fell over the room. Conversations stopped, eyes turned toward them—some filled with contempt, others with fear. There was no warm welcome, no attempt at diplomacy. Only distrust and the weight of countless political games played in the shadows. The Senate had always been a place of manipulation, but now, with the Astartes standing at their door, it felt like a looming storm.

Maximus was unfazed. His gaze swept over the crowd, noting the varying reactions. Some Senators straightened at the sight of him, their posture stiff with barely concealed disdain. Others shrank back, their eyes darting nervously between the towering figures of the Astartes and each other.

Sebastian's eyes scanned the room, calculating, assessing the positions of the key players. He seemed almost amused. "You can feel it, can't you?" he muttered to his brothers. "Fear. They tremble before us, but they won't admit it."

A tall, thin man stepped forward into their path, his robes flowing behind him like a shadow, his expression a mix of contempt and feigned superiority. "So, the brutal warriors have finally arrived," he said, his voice dripping with venom, his words a calculated insult.

Maximus didn't flinch, his cold gaze locked onto the man, unwavering. "Be silent, lest I pull your spine from your body," he said, his tone dripping with menace, each word punctuated with the promise of a brutal, inevitable fate.

The man faltered for just a moment, his smug expression faltering as he instinctively took a step back, eyes wide with apprehension. The room fell into a tense silence, the other Senators and officials looking on, some with a mixture of fear, others with disgust, as Maximus stood motionless. His brothers, Sebastian and Raxor, flanked him while the Death Watch stood behind them, their imposing presence filling the space like an iron wall.

The tall man, after a brief moment of hesitation, swallowed hard, but tried to regain some measure of composure. "You would threaten me here, in the Senate?" he scoffed, though the unease in his voice was clear. "Do you think your violence will intimidate us into submission?"

"Yes." Maximus answered simply, his tone unwavering, as though the answer was obvious.

The man's face reddened, and he straightened, attempting to project confidence despite the growing tremor in his voice. "Well, it won't!" he declared defiantly, his voice rising in a mixture of indignation and fear.

Maximus' gaze remained cold and unflinching. With a deliberate step forward, he towered over the man, his immense figure casting a shadow over him. Leaning down, Maximus' voice dropped to a chilling whisper, each word heavy with menace. "Get out of my way. Or I promise you, you will lose your spine."

The man said nothing, his face blanching as he stood frozen under Maximus' intimidating stare. He opened his mouth, perhaps to respond, but the words died on his lips. Slowly, with a mix of reluctance and fear, he stepped aside, his muttered insults barely audible as he passed.

Maximus watched him go, his posture unyielding, before turning his attention back to the path ahead. With a subtle nod to his brothers, they continued forward, their presence in the Senate now undeniable.

The officials in the hall, watching the exchange, kept their distance, many of them glancing nervously at the towering Astartes, unsure of what would come next.

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