Large portions of the planet shone bright orange as majority of its cities and infrastructure burned from the constant orbital bombardment sent their way. Though things groundside may be considered hell by most, the view from the Ksad, the Imperial flagship, made it seem eerily beautiful.
The Overseer looked on from the dreadnought's observation deck as smaller ships of the fleet converged towards the Asari home world, ready to take the planet by force should there still be any form of resistance. Although, the chances of that were infinitesimally low, especially after the beating the blue primitives have received.
This victory was not something to be happy about, however. The Empire was far behind schedule, and the battle to take the Asari capital only set them back even further. The Asari was only one of the few species that have succumbed to the empire's might. There were still others who continue to resist; those who are not aware of the coming danger. If the stasis pods re-activated as they should have, the Empire would have arisen far earlier than it did and would have been given more than adequate time.
It was unfortunate that the secret facility on Erinle failed to reactivate the stasis pods properly. The indoctrinated agents caused far more damage than the Old Empire had anticipated. If it hadn't been for the once-primitive Salarian's meddling four centuries ago, the next cycle would have come and gone without the Empire rising at all; the original million sent to slumber would've stayed dead to the rest of the universe, slowly deteriorating as the machines that kept them alive rusted and disintegrated.
The Overseer sighed as he hung his head. The recent military campaigns of the new Prothean Empire have pushed him and most of his men to their limits. It has only been less than four decades since the Prothean crusades began, yet it has already taken a huge toll on him.
The war started with the Salarians, the same ones who have discovered them. That was easy; they had an extensive intelligence network, but not enough muscle. Next to fall were the Turians, who came to the Salarians' aid. The avian sentients were a handful. If it hadn't been for the Krogan, the Empire would have still been fighting them forty years later. With no one to protect them, the Vol tribes surrendered without a fight soon after. Subsequent to come under Imperial command were the Krogan; though technically, they joined the Empire willingly; a supposed sign of gratitude for curing the sickness imposed upon their people. With strict breeding protocol, the Krogan were put in an easily manageable state: vast in number, yet not enough to put a strain on Imperial supplies.
The Quarians were next to fall. Without a home planet to provide them with resources, they surrendered easily. Majority of their constructs known as the Geth were wiped out by the Empire, allowing for the re-colonization of Rannoch. The Hanar never put up a fight and willingly offered their service to the Empire, along with their client race, the Drell. The Elcor fought valiantly, but they were no match for the Empire's might.
"And now the Asari." The Overseer mused. Members of the all-female race prided themselves of their diplomatic tact and advanced technology; technology borrowed from the Old Empire in the first place. None of that could save them from the empire's advance, however. If they had joined the rest of the galaxy in fighting the Empire earlier, they may have had a chance. Instead, the Republics decided to observe, to wait the war out. Their later actions to aid the Elcor and the Quarians were too little too late.
"Chief Overseer, the primitives have fallen. We have the planet." His Commander said behind him, strong and unfaltering. Like the Empire. The Overseer turned to face the younger Prothean.
"Good. Move in all ground forces to secure the capital city. Begin assimilation immediately." The Overseer commanded in his own strong voice, bereft of any weariness he may have felt.
"Yes, Chief Overseer." Said the Commander with a salute. After being given leave, the young Prothean turned around and walked off to execute the Overseer's commands.
Things were going smoothly now. It was a slow pace, but they were moving forwards, at least. Perhaps the Empire might have enough time. Enough time to ready themselves in facing the ones who have left the Old Empire in ashes; the reason why the empire needed to gather the rest of the galaxy: to fight the Reapers.
The Overseer turned around to face Thessia once more. The road he and his men have travelled to get to where they were was a long and difficult one. Unfortunately, the real battle has only begun, for the next foe they needed to face was the Coalition: the Human-Batarian alliance.
The Overseer hung his head once more. This has been a long war. But apparently, not long enough.
