As the proverbial pieces began to fall into place half a universe away in favor of the defiant, their oppressors remained unfettered. Despite the growing coalition's limited success against the Empire, their pyrrhic victories were short-lived in the grand scheme of things. The Empire never lacked for commitment and overwhelming superiority in numbers or firepower on every battlefield its troops graced, but it lacked two things. Focus and discipline, two pillars of absolution that Burgg's successor built a career on…one that served Xilch well with frighteningly cold, calculated success.
Devastis, having long since improved security measures from the Federation's past transgressions and more-recent traitorous elements being sought out and snuffed from the universe with extreme prejudice, lived up to its namesake as a world of war. The might of the Empire, its sword and shield, on full display with every soldier birthed, trained, and deployed. Every tank, mech, and artillery piece loaded to bear and crewed. Every Armada vessel departed its shipyards to join their respective fleets.
Not even a million cuts would bleed this body dry on the path to defeat.
Operation Impending Doom II had not been dealt its fatal blow by Vaukt and his rebellious elements. Delayed, but far from derailed. The Empire marched forward beneath Xilch's command of its armed forces behest of her Almighty Tallest, Grimm. A shockingly potent combination of terrible success that granted no mercy or quarter to those who stood defiant to the Empire's exosolar claims.
The esteemed guests of honor of Grimm, Xilch, and their supporting staff departed the planetary spaceport, destined for IIA Headquarters. Familiar halls once graced by the Warmaster in her former office of High Marshal of Internal Affairs. A change of title and duties did little to change the cunning ruthlessness of the woman whose cold eyes were only surpassed by her cruelty in the name of the Empire.
The motorcade, under IIA security with traffic cleared and controlled, sped down empty thoroughfares against the backdrop of industry of military might and prowess at full-capacity. The Warmaster sat near the window in full regalia. Sharply-dressed in her station, never a button out of place or a piece of leather unpolished, her teal-blue eyes gazed across the rolling landscape contemplatively with chin to her white-gloved, closed hand and the other resting in her lap with legs casually crossed.
A bemused huff of a laugh escaped her. Noting Grimm's furrowed brow of confusion in her peripheral vision, she shifted to address him properly from her current posture.
"Difficult to believe a few short years ago, this was my station. My duty. To go from enforcing the Imperial Standard to serving as your right hand…yet, here we are…leading our people to an era of everlasting greatness. I do make for better company than Burgg ever did, do I not?" She concluded with a coy smirk.
Her attempts to be flirtatious fell on deaf antennae. The Empire's loftiest of leaders' attention held elsewhere, distracted. Xilch's hand left her lap to rest atop one of Grimm's with a consoling squeeze.
"Everything alright, Grimmy? You seem…preoccupied."
"Oh…yes, just concerned with the issue with that non-aggression pact falling through and grinding most everything to a halt." Grimm let out an exasperated sigh, "The only positive note is that the conquest of Jakri is finally back on track after we sent more naval assets to blockade the planet. It's probably the only real part of Impending Doom moving forward as we try to starve the rebels under Hunat out. Not to mention the logistics collapse…those damn Spekkies ruin everything."
"Yes, there is all of that…" She admitted begrudgingly with a pursed expression. "...but fret not, My Tallest. I have everything under control. Logistics will sort itself out in due time and those standing defiantly are being hunted down and exterminated like the vermin they are by the best operatives at our disposal. This setback will become nothing more than a minor inconvenience in a matter of weeks…thanks to yours truly, of course."
"I shudder to think where I would be without you, my sweet. Though, I suppose we need to receive the reports from the others, yes? With Destructia's production capacity added to the fold, nobody shall stand in our way."
"Most likely deactivated or rotting away in an IIA detention center pending evaluation." The Warmaster darkly humored with a smile to match at Grimm before leaning over to sneak in the quickest of kisses. "I've already notified High Marshal Turu to prepare for our arrival. Among those present will be Admiral Carus of the Armada, Supreme Commander Nooch of the Irken Elite, and Marshal Rin of Special Operations. Rin is a recently-vetted and promoted replacement to our traitorous elements. She has been instrumental in weeding out Vaukt's lingering agents and swiftly dealt with extreme prejudice…and if I am not mistaken…you served with Rin in the Irken Elite in your youth, did you not?"
"We did, solid soldier, but she always had a sort of…panache about her for causing extreme amounts of chaos. SpecOps was a more natural home for her in the line infantry. Somewhere where she could put that amazing brain of her's to use and cause the enemy extreme dismay in the winter of their discontent. One of the finest I've ever met, sure to be much more pleasurable to work around than that consummate field rat who prefers to wallow in the mud with his lessers." Grimm smirked, "In other realms, she fails to hold a match to you."
"How dare you even conjure the comparison, let alone speak it." Xilch feigned offense, hardly serious. "Fortunate for you to find me in a good mood. I prefer this Grimm over endless brooding and paranoia. All it takes is for me to command your armies and deliver the universe into your hands. A simple feat."
"Victories keep me in a good mood, rooting out the remaining Vaukt loyalists even better. It makes running an empire very difficult when one of your own could assassinate you. Though, perhaps I should worry less, Internal Affairs was well under your command and you've trained Turu well as far as I can see."
"Turu would fall on his sword before breaching the Imperial Standard. He continues to lead Internal Affairs the same as I had." The Warmaster offered, noticing the familiar geography near the outermost protective walls and gate leading to Internal Affairs' headquarters on Devastis. "I have a knack for reading people, after all. With a sliver of optimism, this should be nothing more than a gathering of minds and determining where the Empire is at strategically, as well as bring High Marshal Rin up-to-speed to better serve your needs, My Tallest."
"Good, at least I'm certain she'll listen to me instead of deciding to go off on her own with a battle plan of her own making. Though, something does make me wonder, my dear. How is it Vaukt escaped notice for so long, the former exemption for his ilk aside. Surely we could have found something on him? Or does his high security clearance make such a task quite difficult for Internal Affairs?" His tone didn't come off as offensive, the man was genuinely curious. A rot in the command structure that went nearly to the top? He wanted to make sure it could never happen again.
Grimm's inquiry elicited hesitation in her own response. An aversion of her bright, blue eyes in a myriad of contempt and displeasure. Mentally mulling over her words, Xilch returned her attention back to him.
"We have…lost track of him. Both he and Zha. I conclude they are together, but both fell through the proverbial cracks and are in the cosmic winds as we speak. There is nowhere either of them can show their faces in Imperial space without it going unnoticed. Internal Affairs has stepped up measures to see to it they are apprehended…or executed, whichever they prefer. Any solace to be taken from this is they are not here, meddling in Imperial affairs for the time being."
"That's at least a positive that he can't interfere too much without him knowing. I'm sure the current high command is not inclined to upset the system." He took a breath, "Let's get this over with, yes?"
The escorted motorcade pulled to a stop near the main entrance of IIA Headquarters. As to be expected, a cadre of Enforcers provided security detail all around. Additional measures were taken to err on the side of caution with so many high-ranking officials in one place at one time amidst the schism of Special Operations and others following the traitor Vaukt. All according to High Marshal Turu's orders per the Warmaster's recommendations.
The rear door opened from the outside, permitting both Grimm and Xilch to disembark the vehicle.
"Almighty Tallest Grimm, Warmaster Xilch, an honor." The IIA Enforcer humbly nodded, gesturing for them to follow. "High Marshal Turu and the others are awaiting your arrival in the conference hall. Right this way."
Only if the resistance would be able to act. Having the entirety of Imperial command present in one location…such a target Vara and Jur dreamed of in their stint to Devastis. Alas, it was such a stint that burned any opportunity from ever occurring again. Their escapades, while devastating for a short term, had since been repaired. Processing Center 07? Still inactive, but local authorities had taken it upon themselves to clean up the facility and secure it once more. Perhaps even expunge evidence of the past, if they could. So many loose ends to keep quiet…
Grimm and Xilch would enter the conference room; it was a moment that Grimm would see her, an imposing woman, one eye red and the other gold, a unique giveaway that only she held purely by a quirk in her cloning machinery. There was no mistaking who it was.
"Rin, it's been quite some time."
Unlike her predecessor, Rin wore the appropriate dress uniform of Special Operations. Fitting attire for the highest echelon of command of her branch to match. Despite the prim and proper polish, a certain ferocity could be felt in her multicolor gaze.
"My Tallest, Warmaster," She cordially greeted with an inclination of her head toward Grimm. "Fate has a strange way of bringing us back together, does it not?"
"So it would seem." Grimm tipped a head back, "Better you than the previous company I held from the old days. How are you handling the chaos that damned traitor left you?"
A bemused chuckle escaped Rin. Humor? At a time like this?
"Yes, well, I always had my suspicions Vaukt was defective as they came…as for cleaning up their filth left in their wake goes, I have been…thorough, to say the least."
"How thorough?" Xilch inquired, arching a sharp brow.
"No rock unturned. No hole unchecked. No question unanswered." The Marshal evenly responded, smirking knowingly. "My requisitions for replacements are backlogged until further notice. Special Operations is a skeleton crew for all intents and purposes…but it is your skeleton crew now."
"Should have cut Vaukt's legs off and promoted you sooner, Marshal."
"Thank you, Warmaster." Rin nodded with a grin. "Moving forward in full compliance with Internal Affairs will ensure loyalty and anything of the nature of Vaukt's cult-of-personality will never happen again."
"Maybe we should've asked her to oversee the replacement personally when we had the chance back on Jakri." Grimm smirked, "You'd like Rin, she lives by her own code: Be professional, but have a plan to kill everyone you meet. I like it. She could've easily rid us of Vaukt and we'd all be better off. But then that leaves us the matter of that traitor Vult and his ilk as well…I never liked him, not since I first laid eyes on him."
Xilch's teal eyes narrowed questioningly to Grimm before shifting back to the newly-appointed Marshal of Special Operations.
"A plan to kill everyone you meet…including your superiors?"
"Absolutely." Rin answered without hesitation or a shift of expression. "Vaukt is proof alone that lofty aspirations of rank and the authority that comes with it are corruptible. I would be handing you his severed head amidst my purging of the branch if I were stationed closer at the time of his betrayal."
"I see…and your leaders?" Xilch morbidly pursued equal measures concerned as she was curious.
The Marshal genuinely laughed.
"Why do you ask, Warmaster? Afraid you may find yourself a target of my ire?" Rin queried, semi-serious as she permitted her words to sink into the Warmaster's paranoia. "Allow me to put it into perspective…there is not a single individual in this room I have not strategically observed with the intent to end their life if need be. Resourcefulness, ingenuity, and precise applications of violence are the way of Special Operations…their branch leader should be no different, should they not?"
"No…I suppose not." The teal-eyed chief of staff muttered, masking her own suspicion behind a facade of practiced stone. What was Rin aware of? What did she know? Questions for another time and another place.
"Simply because she may have plans doesn't mean she would carry them out. After all, I know Vaukt had the same thoughts of bumping me off if he was ever given an opportunity to do so. Such a thing that comes with dealing with them. We're all in accord with the Imperial Standard here and we have nothing to fear at all…and I'm sure all her operatives will be well in accord with it. Any who don't…well, we'll smoke out Vaukt's remaining lackeys all the more easier, won't we?"
"Precisely." Marshal Rin soundly concluded with a nod of her head.
As the trio conversed, Admiral Carus approached the gathering with a clearing of his throat into his hand to garner their attention.
"My Tallest, Warmaster, Marshal." He paid each of them the appropriate pleasantry per the chain-of-command. "Our remote feeds are online. We are ready to begin."
"Growing impatient, Admiral?" The Special Operations Marshal pointedly questioned with an arched brow.
"Not even the slightest, Rin. Everyone's time is of the utmost importance. The less we take out of everyone's day, the sooner we can proceed forward with Impending Doom II."
Carus knew her by reputation alone. He would not be baited into a mud-slinging contest with the likes of her.
Grimm made his way to the head of the conference room's table with the others, staring at the visual feeds before him. Yes, everyone was assembled…
"Let's make this brief. Status reports of all your sectors, I want them. The sooner we can get back to business the sooner I receive word we've seized Jakri and we can reconfigure Impending Doom with the new issues that arose as of late."
Around the table sat the highest echelons of the Empire's armed forces. The "whose who" that carried out Grimm's will behest Xilch's orders passed down. The past year had been chaotic to say the least. A major changing of the guard unknown to most to be a soft coup coming hot off of the heels of a massive schism of soldiers and operatives alike. None pretended all was well, especially not with the Planet Jackers officially casting the non-aggression pact aside in the aftermath of a successful false-flag operation framing none other than the Empire. Their latest retort forced the meeting of current minds and proceeded accordingly with the Empire's largest logistical hub being turned into proverbial firewood for a dying star.
To be expected, most of the Empire continued following long-standing orders of defensive posturing. Reinforce current holdings, replenish losses, and dig in deep in their universal holding pattern amidst the ongoing hunt for Vaukt's traitor legion and those foolish enough attempting to remain behind as saboteurs and assassins. Conventional forces of the Imperial Troopers and Irken Elite near and far shored up defenses and expanded their garrisons. No adversary would pry their grasp of current planets. The Armada maintained vigilance across Imperial space, continuing to whittle away at the opposing coalition of conquered species and their pathetic allies one vessel at a time. Unfortunately, the current logistical nightmare ground future plans to move offensively against Krata of the Federation and crush any remaining opposition to celestial supremacy.
Xilch, in her continued cold, calculating tactical brilliance, delegated accordingly. The Armada was to take priority with celestial bodies in current possession being all but locked down on the ground to protect vital supply lines now threatened by the loss of "Conveyor Belt World". Irk, Devastis, and Destructia were the primary exporters of hardware and personnel until Vort's reconstruction efforts produced meaningful results. Their navy needed ships and crewmen to keep the troops armed and fed, Carus would get the relief he so desperately needed.
Destructia, spooling up and delivering their first batches of trained troops, was placed under an IIA remit thanks to the cunning of Xilch and Turu. Marshal Carric assumed the reins, transferred from IIA Headquarters after Turu's promotion to High Marshal. The red eyed, dark green skinned man looked extremely concerned on his screen. After all, it was Destructia that currently paid the price to see progress in the campaign on Jakri.
"My Tallest, may I speak first?"
"Of course, Marshal, but first, inform us, how goes Destructia?"
"Our production is up. Our first eighty thousand troops are ready with two hundred thousand more well on the way. We have some Destroyer Escorts just about ready to come out of our orbital shipyards as well."
"Excellent. So why the concerned look?"
"My Tallest…we're missing our heavy defenses. Our heavy cruisers and battleships were pulled for Jakri, as were a number of our light cruisers. Without those-"
"Marshal, relax, Destructia is safe and sound as a very unknown world. You can do without those until they're freed up."
"And how soon can we expect them back, if you don't mind my asking."
"We're anticipating Jakri to be declared conquered within a couple of weeks. Once we eliminate the last meaningful resistance on their homeworld, we'll release your ships from their blockade duty and return them to your protection detail."
"I see…thank you, My Tallest."
The Warmaster's pursed expression struggled to remain cordial upon hearing Carric's concerns be voiced. Knowing glances were cast from one another present in anxious anticipation. Xilch had earned a reputation as Director of IIA, that hadn't changed in her new office in the slightest. Her stylus annoyingly tapped a handful of times before raising her freezing blue eyes to zero in on the Marshal.
"...one of the first deliveries to Destructia were the anti-ship defensive batteries and supporting network infrastructure, Marshal. Turu personally oversaw the installation and calibration thereof. Those guns will bring down capital ships in low-orbit. Has something happened to them since the High Marshal's promotion or is this unwarranted fretting bordering on cowardice?"
"We've had some very strange issues arising recently." Carric pulled up some pertinent reports on his side. "Very odd issues with the power grid. Our anti-ship defenses actually went down for the better part of a couple of hours before our repair crews found the issues and dealt with them. They said it looked like something chewed on the wires. I can't imagine what those could possibly be. There's no such documented local wildlife capable of that in our records."
A pause followed, "This coupled with strange fluctuations in our power grid in our main cloning facility. Perhaps I'm being overly paranoid, Warmaster, perhaps what happened on Devastis ages ago is coloring my opinions on the matter. But I do have concerns."
"As do I, Marshal. The most prominent one is perhaps you were a poor choice to oversee Destructia's day-to-day operations if you cannot handle the most mundane of critical tasks." Xilch laid into him, none too pleased with his reasoning given. "By your own admission, there are either the potential of enemy sabotuers operating on Destructia beneath your watch or gross incompetence bordering on treason. Which is it?"
"It cannot be incompetence, nor is it any saboteurs as I do not have Special Operations members as part of my local garrison contingent. It must be hostile elements," Carric flatly laid out his hypothesis.
"Hostile elements?! On Destructia?!" Grimm exclaimed, "That's absurd! How can anyone know where you are?!"
"Strange times, we live in, My Tallest." Rin mused, her gold-and-red gaze resting on Carric with contempt. "...I have cleansed my house, Marshal. Perhaps you would be wise to do the same before casting stones, hm?"
Turu sighed heavily.
"At the risk of instigation, Marshal Rin speaks truthfully. As of the latest reports to cross my desk, Special Operations has been deemed "cleansed" of Vaukt's influence and lingering agents…also why the branch is at a dangerously low level of capacity, but I digress."
"And Carric's command of Destructia?" The Warmaster pursued, speaking to the man's superior directly.
"Nothing suggests the Marshal's command or actions are deviating from standard protocol or in violation of the Imperial Standard, Warmaster…" Turu answered truthfully, intentionally shifting his gaze to the Marshal. "...but it is highly recommended he prioritizes maintenance and security of the defensive batteries until the Armada is relieved of Jakri's campaign."
"Couldn't have said it better myself." Xilch concurred. "Can you manage that or does High Marshal Turu need to take lesson notes from Marshal Rin to correct the issue?"
Hearing her name mentioned elicited a bemused smirk and flourish of her palm in Carric's direction.
"Forgive my suspicions, Destructia may have made me too overly cautious. I will handle this iss-" beeping from his console interrupted him. "...Unbelievable. Now I have insubordinate staff. I told those idiots to delay shutting down the relay for maintenance because of this meeting."
"Perhaps there are more issues abound than we realized in what should be considered a safe world." Grimm mused as the feed from Carric went to black. A bright red SYSTEM MAINTENANCE message flashing. "...It's so hard to find good help these days."
"Turu."
"Ma'am?"
"Demote Carric. Reassign him elsewhere. He's proven himself to be incompetent in a few short sentences and Destructia is too vital to leave to a buffoon." Xilch maliciously observed with a jotting of notes. "Only outfit he is fit to command is a company of custodians as far as I'm concerned. See to it yourself personally in the interim if need be. Do not let your subordinates sully your name."
The IIA High Marshal blinked, taken back by the Warmaster's ruthlessness. He was no stranger in her stead as IIA's branch commander. He cleared his throat, regaining his composure with a series of notes.
"As you wish, Warmaster. I'll notify him of this…restructuring once long-range communications come back online."