(A/N: I messed up so freakin bad! Chapter 165 is called order 66, and chapter 166 is Exterminatus. I should have freakin switched them so order 66 fell on chapter 166🤦‍♂️ oh well.)
=== Maximus ===
Maximus listened in silence as Raxor finished speaking, his massive arms folded before his chest. The words themselves were… monumental. Padmé Amidala. Pregnant? Possibly carrying fragments, or reincarnations of the Emperor's very soul? Even for a galaxy that had already proven itself fond of impossibilities, this revelation landed like a thunderstrike.
Sebastian did not share Maximus' restraint.
"WHAT?!"
The Black Templar's shout echoed off the command chamber's adamantium walls, sharp enough that a few servitors froze mid-task. Sebastian spun on Raxor as if struck by lightning, his eyes wide, incredulous, voice rising into something bordering on hysteria.
"The Emperor's mother is just walking around out there?" he barked, gesturing wildly. "Unprotected? In this galaxy? We should already be moving ships, scouring systems, burning worlds if we have to! How, how in Terra's name did you keep something like this from us?"
Raxor did not flinch. He stood his ground, shoulders squared, his voice remained steady.
"It happened during the search for my Primarch," he said evenly. "Everything happened during the search. I just now spoke to the Grand Regent and Sanguinius as soon as I was able."
Sebastian slapped a gauntleted hand to his helmetless face, dragging it down slowly as if trying to physically restrain his thoughts. He began pacing in tight circles, muttering half-prayers and half-curses under his breath.
"This is insanity," he growled. "Absolute insanity…"
Maximus finally spoke, his voice low.
"Do you know where Senator Amidala is now?"
Raxor hesitated, then shook his head. "No. Not at this moment."
Sebastian stopped pacing and rounded on him again. "Then we have to find her! Immediately!"
"We will," Maximus replied, unperturbed. "In due time."
That did it.
Sebastian threw his arms wide. "Due time? Due time? Brothers, this is the most important development since we arrived in this universe. Possibly since the Emperor himself first walked Terra! Why are you both acting like this is just another battlefield report?"
Maximus met Sebastian's stare without blinking. Raxor did the same. Neither answered him.
Sebastian sputtered. "Stop ignoring me!"
They did not stop.
Maximus turned back to Raxor as if Sebastian were no longer present. "Our immediate concern remains unchanged. The Grand Regent must pass judgment on Lah'mu."
Sebastian stared at them, aghast, then stalked to the far side of the chamber and dropped heavily onto a bench, crossing his arms and seething in silence, every inch the picture of an indignant Black Templar being deliberately ignored.
The doors hissed open moments later.
Nira herself entered the chamber. Her gaze swept the room in a heartbeat, Maximus and Raxor deep in discussion, Sebastian sulking in the corner like a chastised warhound.
Maximus inclined his head. "Grand Regent."
Sebastian made a pointed show of not looking at anyone.
Maximus stepped forward, getting straight to the point. "Lah'mu is compromised beyond recovery. It harbored the Primarch Vulkan and serves as a critical source of clone troopers for the Republic. I believe it warrants Exterminatus."
Nira did not answer immediately. She folded her hands behind her back and turned slightly, eyes distant as she considered the planet below them, a quiet world now revealed as a keystone in the Republic's war machine. Billions of lives. An entire ecosystem. And yet, Vulkan. Clones. Secrets layered atop secrets.
Sebastian pushed himself up from the bench, his earlier agitation gone, replaced by grim focus.
"If I may," he said, stepping closer. "We don't know what else is buried there. If they hid a Primarch from us, what else have they hidden? What weapons? What abominations? Leaving it intact is an invitation to future catastrophe."
Nira studied him, then looked back to Maximus. For a long moment, the chamber was silent save for the low hum of the ship's engines.
Finally, she exhaled softly.
"Do what you believe is best," she said.
The words were simple. The consequences were not.
Maximus did not hesitate.
The moment the Grand Regent's authority settled over the chamber like a final seal, he turned from her and faced the crew pits that lined the command deck of the battle barge. His voice carried the absolute certainty of a man who had ordered worlds to die before, and would do so again without flinching.
"Provisio Ultrus."
For a single heartbeat, everything stopped.
Servitors froze mid-motion. Officers stared at their consoles as if they had misheard. Even the omnipresent hum of the ship seemed to fade beneath the weight of the command. Provisio Ultrus was annihilation, reserved for worlds deemed irredeemable, their very existence a threat to the Imperium.
Maximus continued, his tone unchanging.
"Two-stage cyclonic torpedo."
Silence shattered into motion.
Red runes flared across hololithic displays. Warning chimes howled as command protocols cascaded through the ship's systems, unlocking seals that had not been touched in years. Tech-priests broke into binharic chant, voices rising in metallic prayer as ancient machine-spirits were roused from slumber.
"Exterminatus authorization confirmed," intoned a vox-servitor, its voice flat and merciless.
"Gene-seal verified. Command origin: Grand Regent Nira."
"Status: irrevocable."
Deep within the armored belly of the battle barge, cathedral-sized launch bays awakened. Massive adamantium clamps disengaged with thunderous force, revealing the cyclonic torpedo, a god-killing weapon the size of a voidship, its surface carved with litanies of extinction and warded with sigils.
Sebastian stood very still, arms crossed, jaw tight. For all his earlier fury, even he felt the gravity now. This was not righteous fury or battlefield necessity. This was judgment.
Raxor watched in silence, his expression unreadable, thoughts perhaps with Vulkan, or with the knowledge that the world which had hidden his Primarch would soon cease to exist in every conceivable sense.
On the main hololith, Lah'mu rotated serenely, blue and green and utterly unaware.
"Target lock achieved," came the call.
"Firing solution plotted."
"Awaiting final confirmation."
Maximus placed a gauntleted hand against the command lectern.
"Fire."
The cyclonic torpedo launched.
The battle barge shuddered as if recoiling from the act itself, its immense mass compensating for the release of a weapon designed to end planets. Through the void, the torpedo burned like a falling star, engines screaming as it pierced the atmosphere and plunged toward the world below.
Impact.
The first stage detonated with apocalyptic force.
From orbit, it looked as though a second sun had been born on Lah'mu's surface. Continents ruptured instantly, oceans vaporizing into expanding halos of steam. Shockwaves raced across the planet's crust faster than sound, tearing cities, mountains, and fault lines apart in moments.
Then came the second stage.
Deep beneath the planet's wounded surface, the cyclonic payload activated, boring into the mantle and releasing energies meant to unmake. The planetary core destabilized, gravitational equilibrium collapsing as Lah'mu began to tear itself apart from the inside.
The battle barge pulled away, engines flaring as it cleared the dying world's gravity well.
On the viewscreen, Lah'mu convulsed.
The crust split into titanic plates, magma and fire spilling into the void as the planet fractured along impossible lines. For a brief, terrible moment, it held together, cracked and burning, screaming silently across space.
Then it shattered.
The planet broke apart in a cascade of incandescent ruin, fragments colliding and exploding as the core finally went critical. The resulting detonation lit the void, a violent bloom of fire and debris expanding outward where a world had existed moments before.
No oceans.
No skies.
No secrets.
No life.
Only drifting ash.
On the bridge, no one spoke.
Maximus stood unmoving, watching the aftermath without triumph or regret. This was not victory. Lah'mu had been weighed, measured, and had been found wanting.
Behind him, the Imperium's banners hung in solemn stillness as the battle barge turned its prow toward the stars, leaving nothing behind but debris.
=== Palpatine ===
Palpatine stood with his hands folded behind his back, gazing out through the tall viewport of his makeshift office as Coruscant's endless cityscape churned beneath a bruised, overcast sky, the war having forced him into quarters that lacked the familiar grandeur of his old chambers.
Tarkin stood a respectful distance away, posture rigid, datapad held at his side, when the report finally came through. Palpatine did not turn at first as he listened to the clipped, efficient words detailing the destruction of Lah'mu, the confirmation of Exterminatus.
When the transmission ended, Palpatine let out a slow, controlled breath, then turned, his face carefully arranged into something that looked like stunned disbelief. "They destroyed it?" he said softly, as if saying the words too loudly might somehow make them more real.
"An entire planet… gone." He lowered himself into his chair, fingers tightening slightly against the armrests, and looked up at Tarkin with eyes that seemed haunted. "The Imperium has finally shown its true nature, Wilhuff. To wipe out a world simply to wound the Republic… it is evil, plain and undeniable."
Silence settled between them, broken only by the distant hum of the city and the faint crackle of construction. Tarkin's expression remained composed, but there was a flicker of something sharper behind his eyes as Palpatine continued, his voice gaining a quiet edge.
"They believe this will break us," Palpatine said, rising slowly to his feet. "They believe that by demonstrating such overwhelming brutality, the Republic will falter, will beg, will submit. They are mistaken." He stepped closer to Tarkin, placing a hand briefly on his shoulder in a gesture that felt both paternal and commanding.
"We must respond, and we must do so in a way that makes it clear this cannot be done without consequence. Prepare the SunEater. Move it into position. The Imperium must be shown that they are not the only ones capable of ending worlds." Tarkin straightened, the decision already made in his mind the moment the order was spoken. "Yes, Chancellor," he replied evenly, turning and striding from the chamber without hesitation.
Left alone, Palpatine allowed the mask to soften just enough to let a thin, satisfied smile touch his lips. He returned to his desk and with a subtle gesture activated the holoprojector embedded within it. Blue light flared, coalescing into an image of Anakin Skywalker, his form flickering slightly.
Palpatine's expression shifted instantly, concern replacing satisfaction as he leaned forward. "Anakin," he said gently, almost tenderly. "Is it done?" The silence that followed stretched just long enough to feel dangerous before Anakin answered, his voice low, and irrevocably changed. "It is. The Jedi on Alderaan are dead. A few escaped… but the Order is gone."
Palpatine closed his eyes for a moment, as though in mourning, then opened them again, nodding slowly. "You made the right choice," he said, his voice warm, and reassuring, filled with approval. "Painful as it was, you did what had to be done. Because of you, the Republic still has a future." He straightened, his tone shifting subtly, purpose sharpening every word.
"Return to Coruscant, my boy. There is much we must discuss… about your place in the galaxy, and the power you will need to protect those you love." The hologram flickered, then vanished, leaving Palpatine alone once more, his smile returning as the city lights outside dimmed and the pieces of his grand design slid ever closer into place.
===
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