The war for Thyferra had ended, but the Shadow Hand hadn't permitted the machinery of conquest to grow quiet.
He stood before the immense viewport of the suspended citadel like some black idol raised over the corpse of Xucphra City, the ruined metropolis burning far beneath his feet. Reflected fire crawled across the glass and caught upon the overlapping scales covering his torso, dark plates of Mandalorian beskar, each one blackened, reforged, and set into the foundation of his war-tyrant regalia. They hadn't been purchased, gifted, or honorably won. The metal had been taken from the dead during the genocide, stripped from warriors whose people had been broken beneath the Sith's advance and remade into something profane. Old stains had been worked deliberately into the alloy during its reforging, the beskar chemically darkened until only traces of dried crimson remained caught within engraving and seam. Sith runes had subsequently been carved across every scale, transforming trophies of a slaughtered warrior culture into a warded cuirass worn openly by the Shadow Hand. Over it fell layered robes of black and subdued blood-red, severe rather than ornamental, reinforced at the forearms and waist by blackened bloodsteel and bound with narrow strips of runic script. Nothing flowed unnecessarily. Nothing softened His silhouette. The entire vestment had been constructed around the idea of a sovereign prepared to walk directly from a throne room into a killing field.
Behind Him waited the men responsible for ensuring that the conquest below became permanent.
Xorvak Drathuun barely resembled something that ought to have possessed a military commission. The
Red Butcher, Commander of the Second Blackblade Legion, was a hulking Massassi whose scarlet flesh disappeared beneath slabs of black warplate. He stood nearly motionless despite the violence inherent in his proportions, enormous hands clasped behind his back while a jagged ceremonial blade hung from one hip. Dried blood still darkened the recesses of his armor from the fighting in Xucphra. Drathuun had personally led the Second through the city's defensive belt during the invasion, smashing through positions that had refused surrender and driving surviving resistance inward until organized opposition ceased to exist. The Blackblades had since withdrawn from much of the routine occupation, but detachments remained positioned throughout strategic districts as rapid-reaction forces. They were not policemen.
Beside the Massassi stood
Legate Varkhess Tor, commander of the Immortal Legion brought down in the conquest's wake. Where Drathuun represented the violence of the assault, the Legate represented what came afterward: occupation rendered mathematical. Sixty-six thousand, six hundred and sixty-six strand-cast legionaries now formed a tightening cordon around Xucphra. Infantry cohorts controlled the major arterial roads. Armored formations occupied transit junctions and landing districts. Mobile batteries had been emplaced beyond the city limits, their firing solutions already calculated against every avenue through which a counterattack or mass evacuation might be attempted. Nothing entered Xucphra without passing through Kainite inspection. Nothing left without authorization.
"
Outer encirclement is complete." Tor reported. His voice held the impersonal cadence of a man reciting production figures rather than describing the imprisonment of a city. "
Third and Seventh Cohorts control the western approaches. Ninth Cohort has assumed responsibility for the starport district. Subterranean access beneath the southern refinery quarter proved more extensive than Imperial intelligence anticipated, but engineering companies have sealed all routes except those designated for logistical use. Civilian movement has been restricted."
Prazutis didn'tturn.
"
And the refineries?"
Another figure stepped forward.
The technoadept's robes were reinforced with machinery until it was difficult to determine where the organic creature ended and Shadow Mind began. Mechanical limbs folded against its back like the legs of some dormant insect, while crimson script crawled silently across the lenses covering its eyes.
"
Recoverable, Shadow Hand."
Only then did Prazutis shift His attention.
"
Recoverable is not operational."
The adept bowed deeply.
"
No, my lord. Four primary production complexes suffered substantial damage during the fighting. Two sustained catastrophic failures in their filtration networks. A third lost significant processing infrastructure when withdrawing defenders initiated demolition charges. Shadow Mind cadres have stabilized all major reactor and chemical systems. Technoadepts are presently reconstructing damaged processing lines alongside captured Thyferran specialists."
"
How long?"
"
Initial bacta production can resume within seventy-two hours. Reduced capacity. Full restoration will require substantially longer."
Prazutis finally turned from the devastated city. His eyes passed first over the technoadept, then Tor, and finally Drathuun.
"
Seventy-two hours." The words were neither approval nor complaint. They were expectation. "
Whatever has survived belongs to the Empire now." His gaze returned briefly toward the burning city beyond the transparisteel. "
The purpose of conquest is not merely to destroy what stood before us. Destruction is the privilege purchased by victory. Dominion is what must follow."
Drathuun's monstrous features twisted faintly at the edges.
"
There are still resistance cells beneath the eastern districts." Prazutis looked toward him.
The Red Butcher continued.
"
Small groups. Former security personnel. Militia. Civilians with weapons. They strike patrols and disappear into the utility passages."
"
Commander, commence a grid search of the city. The population is to be held in designated sectors. All who do not comply, and all who remain are to be liquidated immediately." A silence followed. A savage grin slowly exposed the Massassi's teeth.
"
War Droids. Initiate wide deployment behind your movements. All life remaining in cleansed districts to be swiftly terminated. The Immortal Legion will provide support as requested, by your discretion." Prazutis stepped closer to the conference table dominating the chamber, one gauntleted hand settling against its black surface. "
We will strip away all available options, beyond compliance or destruction."
Drathuun struck one massive fist against his breastplate.
"
It will be done."
"
Not by indiscriminate bombardment." Prazutis added. That drew the Massassi's attention. "
Thyferra has already paid for our victory. The Empire intends to rebuild Thyferra. The Shadow Armada will provide precise support if it is required, and approved by my will."
The Butcher inclined his head.
"
As you command, Shadow Hand."
Prazutis turned toward Tor.
"
The Immortal Legion remains. Complete the blockade. Establish permanent exclusion zones around every refinery, processing center, research complex, reservoir, and transport hub relevant to bacta production. Shadow Mind receives unrestricted movement through those districts. Commander Drathuun will reach out with what his forces require for their operation. All others who attempt to breach the blockade are to be summarily executed."
"
By whose authority?"
The question was procedural rather than doubtful. Prazutis looked again toward the burning horizon. "
Ours." That was enough. Tor bowed. Prazutis allowed several seconds of silence to settle over the chamber before dismissing them with a minute movement of His hand. The Legate departed first, already transmitting fresh instructions across the Imperius Strategic network. The technoadept followed, mechanical limbs unfolding as encrypted orders raced toward the reconstruction cadres laboring below. Drathuun remained a moment longer, red eyes meeting those of the Dark Lord before he too turned and strode from the chamber in search of whatever resistance still possessed the courage to call itself alive.
Only then did Prazutis move toward the inner doors.
Beyond them waited the Eternal Father,
Darth Carnifex
, Dark Councilor
Taeli Raaf
, and Business Magnate
Lodd Grimmin
. The Shadow Hand rounded the chamber to stand beside the Eternal Father, following his speech, he spoke. "
I've begun the next stage of our occupation."
