=== Sebastian ===
From the command deck of the Battle Barge, Sebastian stood with his arms over his chest, the faint hum of the ship's systems doing little to drown out the distant thunder of cannons preparing to fire.
"All batteries," he growled through his vox, his voice resonant, like a hammer striking an anvil, "commence bombardment."
The reply was instantaneous. A tremor rippled through the hull as the colossal broadside guns of the Battle Barge came to life. Brilliant lances of energy and thunderous shells rained down upon the planet, striking with apocalyptic force. Firestorms blossomed where once proud cities had stood. From orbit, Sebastian could see vast plumes of smoke curling up like writhing serpents, black scars etching themselves into the world below. Entire districts vanished in cascades of fire and dust.
He watched with grim satisfaction as the monsters were wiped out, his storm-shrouded visage illuminated by the glow of annihilation.
Jarek's voice crackled through his vox-link. "Lord, shall we begin?"
"Deploy the Legion," Sebastian commanded.
On cue, the hangar bays of the Battle Barge split open, and the heavens disgorged steel and fury. Gunships roared, drop pods shrieked through the atmosphere like flaming meteors, and entire formations of Astartes led warbands leapt from orbit.
Sebastian turned from the viewport, his massive boots reverberating across the deck as he made his way toward his personal pod. Jarek and his chosen Obsidian Crusaders were already waiting inside, armored forms gleaming with the dark sigils of their Legion. Their visors tracked him with silent reverence as he entered, the pod's interior groaning beneath his armored bulk.
"Steel yourselves," Sebastian said, resting his storm shield against his knee as the pod doors sealed shut. "Today, we break the spine of the slave trade."
The pod's clamps released with a bone-jarring thud. Gravity seized them, and the pod began to scream through the atmosphere, the roar of plasma and fire all around. Inside, the chamber shook violently, but Sebastian sat firm, braced like a statue of iron. His Crusaders checked their weapons, flamers, blasters, vibroblades, and rifles.
Then, with an earth-shattering impact, the pod struck.
The world cracked open. Pavement shattered, buildings buckled, and a thunderclap of smoke and debris erupted outward. The pod's doors detonated outward with explosive bolts, crashing to the ground as makeshift ramps.
Sebastian was the first to charge forth.
He surged into the streets, a wall of living steel, his storm shield raised high. His power sword ignited with a violent crackle, glowing with a cobalt sheen that danced across its sharpened edge. The first Zygerrian slaver foolish enough to stand against him raised a whip, and Sebastian bisected him in a single swing, cutting him down as if he were paper. Blood sizzled on the power field, steaming in the cold air.
"Forward!" Sebastian roared.
His Crusaders spilled out behind him like a flood. Jetpack fire scorched the streets as Mandalorians rocketed forward, unleashing torrents of blaster bolts. Zygerrian soldiers scrambled from their barracks, weapons drawn, but were met with unrelenting fire. Plasma bolts ripped them apart, grenades tore through tight formations, and Mandalorian war cries echoed above the screams of the dying.
Sebastian moved like a force of nature. Each swing of his sword cleaved through slaver flesh and armor alike. A shield-bash shattered spines. One Zygerrian captain dared to lunge at him with a vibrosword, one that Sebastian caught on his storm shield. He shoved him back, and impaled him through the gut, lifting him off the ground before discarding his body like a broken doll.
The streets ran red.
Jarek fought at his side, the Darksaber cutting down anyone daring to fight back. His elite squad carved a path through the chaos, disciplined and ruthless, their armor painted with the ash of battle. Mandalorian war chants rang through the vox as more squads descended into the city, turning its avenues into rivers of fire and ruin.
Civilians screamed and fled, scattering before the onslaught. The air reeked of ozone, scorched metal, and blood. Statues of Zygerrian kings crumbled under the bombardment. Slave pens burst open as Astartes squad leaders tore their gates apart, though the slaves, terrified, could only cower amidst the destruction.
Sebastian paid them no mind. His eyes were fixed forward. The palace loomed in the distance, its spires cutting into the sky, a monument to tyranny. That was his target. That was the heart that needed ripping out.
As he advanced, volleys of blaster fire rained down from defensive positions atop the walls. Sebastian lifted his storm shield, the artifact drinking in the punishment. With a roar, he charged forward, smashing into a barricade. His Crusaders followed, grenades flashing as Zygerrian positions were obliterated in firestorms.
A towering Zygerrian warbeast, part flesh, part machine, charged from the gates, roaring in challenge. It swung a massive electrified chain meant to tear tanks apart.
Sebastian strode forward to meet it.
The chain came crashing down, but he caught it on his shield, the impact shaking the ground beneath him. With his free hand, he swung his power sword upward, cleaving into the beast's arm. Sparks and blood erupted as the limb was severed. The creature screamed, but Sebastian pressed forward, plunging his blade into its chest, driving it deep until the beast toppled backward in a spray of gore and shattered circuits.
He wrenched the blade free, towering over its corpse as fire reflected in his eyes.
"Onward!" he bellowed, thrusting his sword towards the palace, his voice shaking the very walls. "No mercy! No quarter!"
The Crusaders roared in unison.
=== Ahsoka ===
The alarms screamed through the base on Zygerria's moon, crimson strobes painting the halls as soldiers rushed to battle stations. Ahsoka darted beside her master, her montrals throbbing with the vibrations of heavy artillery fire in the distance.
"Master, this isn't what they said they would do," she hissed, her voice shaking with disbelief. "They promised precise strikes! Fortifications, defensive lines! Not…"
Her words trailed off as the tremors of fresh detonations sounded from the planet below. Out the nearby viewport, Ahsoka caught a glimpse of the carnage: enormous pillars of fire swallowing whole city blocks. The massive guns of the Battle Barge thundered again, and another metropolis blossomed into a sphere of fire and death. She swore she could almost hear the screams of the people echoing even here, high above the world.
Anakin's fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles blanched. His eyes, usually a fierce but steady blue, flickered with something darker, a glimmer of molten yellow. It vanished as quickly as it came, but the shadow lingered in the aura around him, something unsteady, unstable, and dangerous.
"They lied," he snarled. "That monster lied to us. He isn't here to liberate this world, Ahsoka, he's here to erase it!"
He stormed ahead, and she ran to keep pace, the pounding of his boots like thunder in the narrow halls. Captain Rex and his men fell in behind them, helmets clutched in their hands as they strapped blasters to their chests.
"Sir," Rex called out, trying to keep his voice steady, "if the Black Templar has started an orbital purge, then the civilian casualty rate—"
"I know the numbers, Rex!" Anakin snapped, eyes blazing. His breath hissed between clenched teeth, his hand twitching as though itching to ignite his lightsaber and cut something, anything, down. "We're not going to sit back and watch this. We're going down there and ending this madness ourselves."
They burst into the hangar bay. The roar of engines filled the cavernous chamber, starfighters and transports rising into the stormy void of space. Anakin wasted no time, he vaulted into the cockpit of their gunship with the ferocity of a predator, kicking out the pilot.
"Move!" he barked.
Ahsoka exchanged a quick look with Rex, worry tightening her chest. This wasn't her master's usual anger, this was something darker. Still, she boarded quickly, dropping into her seat as Rex and his men sealed the hatch. The ship lifted off, repulsorlifts whining, and shot out of the hangar into the chaos beyond.
The descent was like flying into hell itself. The sky over Zygerria churned with smoke and flame. Buildings burned in every direction, skyscrapers collapsing as the thunder of orbital fire rained down. The comm crackled with frantic chatter, clone troopers begging for orders, Imperium forces voxing in guttural, booming voices.
Anakin piloted the ship like a man possessed, weaving through plumes of fire and collapsing towers. His jaw was set, his eyes wide, every muscle in his body taut with rage.
When they hit the city streets, the chaos became intimate. The gunship screeched down and slammed onto scorched duracrete, the hatch flying open. Rex was the first out, blasters raised. His squad fanned out, laying down suppressive fire as slavers and guards poured into the streets.
Ahsoka ignited her lightsabers, the twin green blades hissing to life. A trio of slavers rushed her, their shock-whips snapping in the air. She ducked low, spun, and struck, slicing one weapon in half, then kicking the wielder in the chest. He hit the wall and crumpled, groaning. The other two advanced, but she moved with grace, spinning between them and slashing their weapons aside. With precise strikes, she disarmed rather than killed, stunning them with the Force and leaving them unconscious.
But when she turned, she saw Anakin… and froze.
Her master wasn't showing the same restraint. He wasn't disarming. He was slaughtering.
A slaver guard fired a bolt at him. Anakin caught it on his saber, deflected, then surged forward in a blur of motion. His blade sheared through the guard's weapon, and then through his chest. The man collapsed in two broken halves.
Another slaver tried to surrender, dropping his whip and holding up his hands. Anakin didn't pause. His blade swept out in a brutal arc, severing the man's arm, then spearing him through the torso in one fluid motion. The scream echoed down the street, sharp and chilling.
"Master!" Ahsoka cried, horror filling her voice.
But he didn't answer. His movements were too fast, too brutal. He ripped through another squad, slashing, stabbing, decapitating with a ferocity that even made Rex hesitate.
Blaster fire poured into their position. Rex and his clones returned fire, cutting down slavers who tried to flank them. The air stank of blood. Screams mingled with the roar of collapsing buildings as explosions rocked the streets.
Ahsoka forced herself to move, cutting through incoming fire with her sabers, leaping over a barricade to knock two slavers unconscious with a sweeping kick and a Force shove. She moved like a dancer amid chaos, trying to save lives where she could. But everywhere she turned, her master was leaving a trail of bodies.
The deeper they pressed into the city, the worse it became. Streets clogged with burning wreckage, civilians screaming as they fled collapsing towers, slavers dragging their captives with whips and chains. Some begged for mercy. Some fought. All were consumed in the chaos.
And still above them, the Imperium ships roared, pounding the world with ceaseless fire.
Anakin carved his way toward the palace like a storm, Rex and his clones struggling to keep up. Ahsoka followed, her heart heavy with conflict. Every time she looked at her master, she saw less of the Jedi Knight she admired and more of the monster that was the Black Templar.
Then they came across something horrible.
Mandalorian bodies lay broken and scattered across the street, crushed against collapsed walls, and impaled upon their own shattered weapons. Half-melted helmets smoked faintly, the golden trim of blackened beskar armor glowing like dying embers in the darkness.
Ahsoka froze, her montrals twitching as she felt something foul through the Force, something cold and alien, sharp as fractured glass. Whatever had done this was no ordinary foe.
At the center of the carnage stood a lone warrior.
The Ultramarine was massive, even by the standards of his kind. His blue armor was scarred and gouged, one shoulder pauldron half torn away to reveal the twisted cabling beneath. Blood ran freely from a crack across his helm, dripping down his ceramite chest that had a massive gash running through his abdomen. The heavy bolt rifle in his hands smoked faintly from overuse.
He staggered, struggling to keep his footing. At his feet lay his squad, nine Crusaders in their black plate, motionless. The paving stones were cratered from the sheer violence of the battle.
And the cause of it? Already gone.
Ahsoka glimpsed a shape vanishing into the distance, a skittering metallic silhouette, too fast and too fluid to be a droid or a man. The sound it made, a shrieking grind of blades against stone, faded into silence as it vanished deeper into the smoke.
The Ultramarine turned his head toward them. For a moment, his war-torn helm locked on Anakin and Ahsoka. His voice came out hoarse, distorted by the vox-grille, but still commanding in its weight.
"…Are you… the Jedi… sent to help?"
Ahsoka swallowed the lump in her throat and stepped forward. "Yes. We are."
The Astartes nodded, the faintest motion, before lowering himself to one knee. He placed a gauntleted hand against the body of one of his fallen squad members, bowing his head.
"Rest," he murmured, the vox crackling with static. "Rest in the Emperor's embrace. You fought well. Your duty is done."
For a long moment, he remained there, as though unwilling to rise. Finally, with a guttural grunt of pain, he stood again. His hand slapped a new drum magazine into his heavy bolt rifle, the action shaking with the weight of his injuries.
He spoke into his vox, his voice carrying hoarse and shaking.
"Battle-barge command, this is Brother-Sergeant Mador. Squad Castor has been annihilated. Enemy unknown. Resembles Necron in form and ability. Highly dangerous. Alert all forces. Repeat, alert all forces."
A brief acknowledgement crackled back before the line went dead.
The Marine turned, clearly intent on rejoining the battle. But as he took a step, his leg buckled. He dropped to one knee again, the massive bolter nearly slipping from his grip.
Ahsoka started forward instinctively, but Anakin was already moving.
The Jedi Knight's face was unreadable, his jaw locked tight, eyes shadowed in the smoke. He stepped in front of the kneeling Astartes, his hand drifting to the hilt of his lightsaber.
The Ultramarine's helm tilted to look at him. Even through the damaged visor, it was clear he assumed the Jedi meant to help him.
"I am fine," Mador rasped. "You need not—"
The snap-hiss of a lightsaber igniting cut him off.
For a heartbeat, Ahsoka thought she'd misheard. The blue glow reflected in the cracked lenses of the Astartes' helm. Her breath caught.
The lightsaber pierced through the cracked eye-lens of the Ultramarine's helm with a sickening hiss. Smoke and sparks burst from the impact point as the weapon burned through ceramite, flesh, and bone. The Marine convulsed once, the heavy bolter clattering from his hands, before collapsing lifelessly onto the corpses of his squad.
Silence fell over the street, broken only by the distant rumble of orbital fire.
Ahsoka staggered back, her lightsabers still in hand but lowered in shock. "Master… what… what did you—?"
Anakin deactivated his blade slowly, the hiss of it vanishing into the smoke. He didn't look at her, didn't look at the body, didn't look at anything.
"He was compromised," he said coldly, his voice low and dangerous. "Too wounded to fight. He would've slowed us down."
Rex glanced between Ahsoka and Anakin, his helmet hiding his expression, but his body language was stiff and tense.
Ahsoka's lekku twitched, her stomach tight with dread. Something was wrong… terribly wrong.
But there was no time. Explosions echoed from deeper in the city. The invasion pressed on.
And Anakin Skywalker simply turned his back and started walking away from the first Astartes to be killed by a Jedi.
===
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