103. Reunification

=== Maximus ===

It had been a week since the Imperium had changed hands.

Maximus stood alone in the strategium of the Emperor's Will, a venerable strike cruiser that had seen countless wars under the Ultramarines banner. Now it flew under a new purpose, one decreed by the Emperor's will made manifest. Nira, still young in so many ways, now stood as regent of their splinter of the Imperium, chosen by divine decree.

Since then, orders had come swiftly, issued with a clarity that was neither hesitant nor cruel. She was no longer the girl he once protected and knew, she had become something else entirely. And now, her first command to him was one of reunification.

"Bring your Legion home, Maximus. Bring back the Azure Talons."

He had obeyed.

Now, standing tall in his blue and gold armor, the symbol of Ultramar emblazoned across his pauldron, Maximus watched the void outside slow back into stars. Ahead, through the glow of the forward viewport, loomed the icy sphere of Hoth, shrouded in storm.

Beneath those blizzards, the Azure Talons fought a war of redemption. A Separatist droid manufacturing facility had been discovered here, hidden in the glacial valleys, and Bo-Katan had led the Mandalorians in a relentless campaign to take the world. If the forge was destroyed, it would cripple Separatist production in this entire sector.

The comms officer's voice crackled over the vox.

"Lord Maximus, we are in position. Drop pod primed for insertion."

Maximus gave a silent nod, already turning from the viewport. Behind him, three Ultramarines, his honor guard, clad in pristine ceramite, helms locked and weapons primed, fell into formation.

Together, they marched to the deployment bay.

The pod was cramped, its walls shaking with the distant thunder of ignition sequences. Maximus sat in the central harness, his power armor connected to the restraint clamps, his thunder hammer locked to his right, bolter locked to his left.

The honor guard took position in the surrounding seats, their visors pulsing a harsh red in the dark.

A mechanical voice counted down the launch.

"Ten. Nine. Eight…"

He closed his eyes.

"For Guilliman. For the Emperor. For the Angel and the Girl who bears His will."

"Three. Two. One…"

With a scream of metal and fire, the drop pod launched from the Emperor's Will, the force of it pressing hard into his spine. Outside, the cold stars blurred, and then disappeared entirely as they entered orbit.

Through layers of clouds and storm, the pod burned like a falling comet, wrapped in atmospheric fire. Lightning struck the outer shell, but the armor held true. The descent was violent, screaming wind and rupturing heat, until—

CRASH.

The drop pod slammed into the ice-bound plains of Hoth like a comet from the heavens. A column of snow and shattered rock shot high into the air, followed by silence.

Then, with a sharp hiss of depressurization—

BOOM!

The doors exploded outward.

Maximus surged forward, roaring from the pod like the wrathful angel he was. His hammer slammed into the ground with a tremor, leaving a crater in the snow. The three Ultramarines followed, forming a disciplined wedge formation as blaster bolts immediately began to light the sky.

All around them, the battlefield was chaos.

Azure Talons clashed with waves of Separatist droids. The mechanical tide was endless, ranks of B2 battle droids, spider walkers stomping through trenches, and HMP droid gunships shrieking overhead. Red and blue bolts filled the air like a storm of dying stars.

Bo-Katan's warriors fought like demons in the whiteout, jetpacks flaring, vibroblades flashing, cutting down droids with brutal efficiency.

Maximus raised his heavy bolt pistol and fired.

One burst.

Two droids exploded in a spray of molten circuitry.

Another step forward.

He swung his hammer, obliterating a trio of droids in a single arc. Their shattered frames scattered like toys against the snow.

The Astartes advanced with implacable fury, each step a promise of annihilation.

Bo-Katan herself dropped from the sky with her jetpack, landing beside Maximus with a roll.

"You're late, my Lord!" she snapped over the gunfire, half-smirking behind her helmet.

Maximus let out a small huff of amusement beneath his helm. "And you've clearly started without me."

She gestured toward the distance, across the battlefield, where the droid factory loomed, a buried fortress in the ice.

"That's our target," she shouted. "The main power core is under the ice, but the shields are still active. We've lost three squads trying to breach."

Maximus nodded, eyes narrowing.

With a signal, one of his honor guard produced a melta charge from his pack.

"Cover us!" Maximus ordered.

He and the squad advanced toward the base, cutting a swath through the enemy ranks. Droids turned and opened fire, but their blasters did little more than splash against ceramite plating.

He reached the shield generator's edge.

"Here," he growled, throwing the melta charge. The honor guard held a perimeter, bolters barking, while Bo-Katan provided overwatch from above.

BOOM.

The charge detonated. The shield flickered, then failed.

The Azure Talons surged forward like a flood unbound.

High in orbit, the strike cruiser fired one, single, massive shell.

The droid factory detonated with a final, glorious explosion, its heart torn out by combined Imperial wrath.

Maximus stood on a hill of broken machines, his hammer resting against his pauldron. Around him, the Mandalorians roared in victory, Bo-Katan raising her new mechanical fist toward the sky.

The Astartes did not cheer.

They simply watched, breathing in the frigid air, their visors scanning for further threats.

Maximus turned his helm to the east, where the frozen wind howled over the plains of Hoth.

"Tell me of the other factories." He commanded the Captain of the Azure Talons.

=== Sebastian ===

The air was thick with the scent of blood, burning oil, and the acrid stink of ozone. Smoke curled into the ochre sky, rising from shattered wreckage and ruined outposts. Florrum had once been a hive of scum, greed, and cowardice. Now it was a graveyard. And Sebastian would ensure it remained that way.

His heavy boots slammed into the red, cracked soil as he sprinted across the battlefield, his black power armor reflecting the firelight around him like a wraith from some long-forgotten nightmare. The white turned red by blood cross of the Black Templars emblazoned on his shoulder pauldron glowed with sanctified fury.

Ahead, the Ohnaka Gang's makeshift defenses crumbled under the relentless assault of the Obsidian Crusaders. Blaster bolts sizzled through the air, bright flashes of crimson that ricocheted harmlessly off his storm shield or struck his armor with the hollow thud of futility.

Sebastian roared as he drove his power sword forward, the crackling blue blade slicing a pirate cleanly in half, sparks and gore erupting in every direction. Another fool lunged with a vibroblade, Sebastian caught the strike on his shield, then smashed the edge of it into the pirate's face, caving in his skull like brittle clay. He didn't stop.

He couldn't.

These scum had stolen three convoys meant for Imperial reconstruction, convoys full of medical supplies and generators meant to save lives and continue the Emperor's great work. Instead, they were used to fuel their drunken depravity and sell to the highest bidder.

"Burn them all!" Sebastian roared through clenched teeth, his voice like thunder through his vox. "No Pity! No Remorse! No Fear! No Mercy! No Survivors!" he screamed as he killed one pirate after another.

Jarek appeared beside him like a black shadow, his dark Mandalorian armor accented with silver trim. The Darksaber was a blur in his hands, its eerie hum singing death as he bisected a pirate from shoulder to hip.

"They're falling back!" Jarek shouted, pointing with his offhand toward a cluster of scrambling pirates disappearing into a canyon pass.

Sebastian turned, his red optics flaring.

He raised his power sword to the sky, the blade gleaming like a beacon of wrath. "Crusaders! With me! Leave no rat breathing!"

A cry of righteous fury answered him, dozens of Mandalorian warriors rising from the smoke and dust, jetpacks igniting in bursts of light and thunder as they soared after the retreating pirates.

Sebastian's own jump pack roared to life, launching him into the air. Wind howled past his helmet as he descended upon a group of fleeing thugs like a meteor. He crashed down into their midst, a shockwave blasting bodies apart.

The first died before he could scream, his head taken cleanly from his shoulders by Sebastian's blade. The second fired wildly, striking Sebastian's chest plate, only to be cut down with a backhanded stroke that evaporated his body.

One pirate dropped his weapon and fell to his knees. "Please, no, I surrender!"

"NO MERCY!" Sebastian screamed, the battle joy rushing through his veins.

He stepped forward and brought his massive shield down on the man. The pirate's body was completely obliterated by the force.

Behind him, the Obsidian Crusaders tore through the canyon. Flamethrowers ignited barricades and bodies alike. Rocket fire blew apart crude towers where snipers had tried to dig in. Jetpacks strafed the sky, picking off escapees like vultures.

The Ohnaka Gang had no more defenses. No more plans. They were running on desperation, and Sebastian knew that scent well. He thrived in it.

A large transport tried to lift off from a nearby plateau, engines sputtering with stolen fuel. Sebastian sprinted toward it, shouldering through enemy fire. As the ship began to rise, he launched himself up with a burst from his jump pack and crashed down onto its hull.

He stabbed his power sword into the engine housing, wrenching it down and slicing through the ship's innards with practiced fury. Sparks and plasma erupted as the engine tore apart. The transport dipped, then spun out of control, crashing into a ridge in an explosion of fire and screaming metal.

He landed hard, dust rolling off his massive frame as he rose to his full height.

"FOR THE EMPEROR!" he roared with fanatical zeal, raising his arms wide like a preacher on the battlefield.

All around him, the Obsidian Crusaders tore through the remnants of the pirate forces. Blaster fire lit up the horizon like a twisted fireworks show, but it was the cries of the dying, the begging, the soon-to-be-slain, that filled the air.

Then his vox crackled to life.

"My Lord," came the voice of Jarek. "One of our scouts followed a fleeing pirate back to their den. It's a makeshift headquarters, a small fortress northeast of here. Hondo Ohnaka is there. He's packing for a retreat."

Sebastian's head tilted at the name. That fool had stolen from the Imperium and thought himself clever enough to disappear into the dust.

Sebastian growled, his voice a mix of wrath and cold delight. "Rally the Crusaders. None escape."

"Understood. Already en route."

Above him, jetpacks ignited in synchronized bursts. The sound of a hundred Mandalorians taking flight was thunderous, flames streaking through the sky like vengeful comets. The Obsidian Crusaders formed tight formations, flying toward the pirate headquarters.

Sebastian watched them for a moment, then turned and made for one of the waiting assault ships. A modified Lambda-class shuttle had been prepped, its side doors open and engines humming. He boarded without a word, gripping the interior rail as the pilot saluted and lifted the ship skyward.

The flight was short, and through the viewport Sebastian could already see the carnage unfolding below. The headquarters, a collection of scrap-metal walls, watchtowers, and a ramshackle central building, was under siege. Explosions bloomed like deadly flowers. Jetpacking Mandalorians rained fire from the skies.

The Obsidian Crusaders had already broken the defenses and stormed the compound.

The shuttle touched down with a hiss of steam and depressurized air. The ramp dropped, and Sebastian stepped out into the smoking aftermath. The outer courtyard was littered with corpses, most still clutching their crude weapons in stiff hands. A few survivors were on their knees, disarmed and trembling.

He walked with unhurried steps through the battlefield. His armor gleamed like obsidian under the fading sun, reflecting firelight with a hellish glow. His command was simple and cold.

"Leave none alive."

The Mandalorians obeyed immediately. Blaster bolts punched through skulls. Vibroblades sank into torsos. The silence that followed was unnatural.

Sebastian stepped over a headless corpse as he made his way toward the central bar, the so-called "command center" of these glorified scavengers. Its crude doors had already been blasted open.

Inside, the bar was in shambles. Bottles lay shattered across the floor. A fire flickered near a cracked fuel cell. But in the center of the room was the true prize.

Hondo Ohnaka.

He was on his knees, hands on his head, eyes wide and darting. Behind him stood Jarek, the Darksaber in his grasp. The ancient black blade hummed like a whisper of death to the man.

Sebastian strode in slowly. The room went still.

With a grinding sound, he pulled a dented metal chair from a corner and placed it in front of Hondo. Its legs screeched against the floor as he sat, his enormous form making the chair groan under his weight.

He stared at Hondo, and though his helmet remained on, the weight of his gaze alone suffocated the pirate.

"You're going to die." His voice was eerily calm. "The only question is how fast."

Hondo swallowed. "M-My good sir, surely… surely there has been a misunderstanding, yes? We are, ah, businessmen. We trade. We… barter. You know how it is—"

"You stole from the Imperium," Sebastian interrupted coldly. "You've dug your grave."

He leaned forward slightly, resting his armored elbows on his knees.

"Tell me who you sold the shipments to. Names. Destinations. Now."

Hondo blinked. "I, ah, memory, it's a tricky thing, you know? So many clients, so many… ha-ha… eager buyers…"

Sebastian's fist clenched. He didn't speak. Instead, he raised his other hand and made a brief gesture.

A Mandalorian dragged a pirate from nearby. The man was young, gaunt, shaking. They threw him to the floor in front of Hondo.

"Tell them, boss," the man whimpered. "Please! Don't let them do this—"

Sebastian stood.

His sword remained sheathed inside his shield.

He didn't need it as he hauled the man to his feet.

With a brutal crack of motion, his armored gauntlet drove forward, straight through the pirate's back. The man let out a gurgled gasp as Sebastian's hand exploded out his chest, clutching his still-beating heart.

Blood splattered Hondo's face, thick and steaming.

Sebastian stared into the pirate leader's eyes.

He crushed the heart in his fist.

The mangled corpse slumped to the ground.

"Wrong answer."

Hondo whimpered. "Alright! Alright! Please, listen! There was a buyer. Two of them! One was a woman… bald… tattoos on her head! She paid with Republic credits, no questions asked! The other was… was CIS. A droid with an odd voice, smooth, like oil! They met with me in the canyons, both wanted different shipments!"

Sebastian tilted his head. "Coordinates."

"In the terminal in the back!"

Sebastian looked up at Jarek and nodded.

"Take him to the ship."

Jarek didn't hesitate before hitting the pirate over the head with the hilt of the Darksaber. He turned to two of his men, and gestured for them to help take him away.

Sebastian turned to his Crusaders.

"Burn this place to the ground. Let the galaxy learn what happens when you steal from the Emperor's subjects."

Outside, the flames rose high into the dusk sky as the Mandalorians carried out their orders. Smoke would mark the grave of Hondo Ohnaka.

And Sebastian, Champion of the Emperor, Scourge of Witches, Black Templar without mercy, stood bathed in firelight, unmoved.

Another heretic purged.

Another message sent.

The wrath of the Imperium had come to Florrum.

And it would not be forgotten.

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