The Eternal Emperor

The space above Triton was a storm of light and chaos. The once-pristine void had erupted into a symphony of laser fire, ion bursts, and the distant rumble of explosions. The Republic fleet, spearheaded by the Sovereign, had engaged the Separatist garrison, and within moments, the battle had tipped heavily in the Republic's favor. 

On the bridge of the Sovereign, High General Lelouch stood calm and collected, his hands clasped behind his back as he watched the battle unfold on the massive holoprojector before him. His violet eyes were sharp and calculating, the familiar weight of command settling over his shoulders. The supercruiser's ion cannon had already proven its worth, disabling large swathes of the Separatist fighter screen with a single, decisive shot. 

"Report," Lelouch ordered, his voice steady amidst the chaos. 

"Sir," one of the officers at the tactical console replied, "the ion cannon has neutralized over 70% of the Separatist fighter force. The remaining enemy ships are scattered and outnumbered, ten to one. They're trying to regroup, but with their main advantage gone..." 

Lelouch gave a single nod, his mind already moving to the next phase of the battle. "Prepare to engage the capital ships. Disable them. I want their vessels intact." 

The tactical officer relayed the order, and Lelouch's gaze shifted to the viewport. Outside, the Separatist fleet was faltering. Their capital ships, which had once held the upper hand due to their overwhelming fighter support, were now vulnerable, exposed without their screens of buzzing droid starfighters. Republic ARC-170 fighters and V-wings were already sweeping through the remaining enemy forces, cutting down any stragglers. 

"Multiple surrender's from the Lucrehulk class warships across all channels, sir," the communications officer chimed in, his tone careful. 

Lelouch didn't flinch. He didn't even turn to acknowledge the statement. His next words were cold and calculated. 

"I'd rather hear it in person." 

There was a pause, the bridge momentarily hushed as his officers processed the order. 

"Sir?" the communications officer asked, as if to clarify. 

"Prepare for boarding operations. Target all disabled capital ships." Lelouch continued. 

The bridge came alive with activity as officers and crew members scrambled to execute Lelouch's orders. The holo-display updated, highlighting the capital ships that had been disabled by the Sovereign's ion pulse. These were the prime targets—large, intact vessels that would be invaluable to the Republic once secured. 

In the Sovereign's massive hangar bay, the atmosphere was electric. Clones moved with purpose, their boots clanging against the durasteel floors as they rushed toward boarding shuttles and LAAT gunships. The hangar, vast enough to hold hundreds of ships, was filled with a chaotic yet organized rush. CT-2079, the fresh clone from earlier, was among them, his pulse quickening as he joined his squad in preparing to board. 

"All right, boys!" a clone captain shouted over the din, his voice sharp and commanding. "You heard the orders! Boarding ops across all disabled ships. Get to your shuttles! We're moving fast, and we're taking prisoners! No heroics—secure the bridge, secure the cargo bays, and get those ships under control!" 

The clone squads responded with crisp salutes, their movements synchronized as they rushed toward the open shuttles. ARC troopers, specialists, and Zero Legion commandos were at the front of the boarding parties, each one primed for the mission at hand. 

"This is it, boys," one clone muttered as he loaded his gear. "High General Lelouch doesn't want any mistakes. Let's do it right." 

"Like we'd do it any other way," another clone replied, slapping his brother on the shoulder. 

The hangar's atmosphere was thick with tension and anticipation. Overhead, the whine of engines filled the air as LAAT gunships lifted off, carrying the first wave of boarding troops toward the enemy ships. The shuttles were a mixed fleet of standard military transports, retrofits, and whatever had been gathered hastily to fill the hangar of the supercruiser. 

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From the outside, the Sovereign was a leviathan, the crown jewel of the Republic's might. Its massive ion cannon had never stop firing, the electrical discharge still faintly crackling along the surface of nearby vessels. From the ship's belly, a swarm of boarding craft erupted—hundreds of transports and gunships, each one carrying squads of clone troopers to their targets. The Venator-class Star Destroyers that flanked the Sovereign also released their complements, their hangar bays yawning open to unleash even more shuttles into the fray. 

The Separatist capital ships, many of them Munificent-class frigates and Recusant-class destroyers, floated helplessly in space. Their systems had been shorted by the ion blast, their engines dead, their shields gone. The skeleton crews aboard these ships scrambled to reactivate power, but the pulse had left them inoperable. What little resistance remained was sporadic at best. 

On the Republic's side, the fleet moved with precision. Lelouch's strategy had been flawless, and now it was simply a matter of mopping up. The boarding craft descended like a swarm of insects upon the disabled Separatist ships, their landing gear locking onto hulls and cutting into the durasteel to allow for entry. 

The clones inside were ready—trained for this exact kind of operation. Minimal resistance was expected; the droid crews aboard the Separatist vessels had been shut down along with the ships themselves, and any organic crew members would be scattered, disoriented from the ion pulse. 

Bridge – Sovereign 

Lelouch stood at the center of the bridge, watching the tactical display as the boarding operations commenced. The holomap lit up with markers as each team made their way onto the enemy ships. His gaze flickered toward the communications officer. 

"Any resistance?" he asked. 

"Minimal, sir," the officer replied. "Most of the enemy crews are disabled, just as expected. Some have managed to activate spare droids in the cargo but they are being overwhelmed by our troops." 

Lelouch nodded, his mind already moving to the next step. "Good. Keep the teams moving. I want those ships under Republic control within the hour." 

Suddenly, an alert sounded from the weapons officer's station. Lelouch's eyes narrowed. 

"Sir," the officer said, turning to him. "The planetary base on Triton shield just came online. Scanners are detecting significant Anit Air weaponry and heavy structural reinforcements." 

Lelouch's lips curled into a faint smile. "Prepare for kinetic strike." 

The officer saluted. "Yes, sir!" 

As the last of the boarding shuttles launched, the focus in the Sovereign's hangar shifted. The belly of the supercruiser, which had been retrofitted for orbital bombardment, now prepared to release its most devastating payload: tungsten rods—30 meters tall and 2.5 meters wide, designed to hit with the force of a small meteorite. 

"Helm," Lelouch ordered, his voice calm but firm. "Bring us into position. Weapons, prepare sequential firing solution. One pass is all we'll need." 

The massive ship shifted slightly as the helmsman brought it into the ideal trajectory for the kinetic strike. Below, the heavily armored Separatist base on Triton bristled with defenses, but against the Sovereign's weaponry, it would be little more than an afterthought. 

"All doors open, sir," the weapons officer reported. 

Lelouch nodded. "Fire." 

From the underside of the Sovereign, 200 massive doors slid open, each releasing a single tungsten rod. The projectiles plummeted toward the planet below, their descent accelerating until they hit the surface with unimaginable force. Wave after wave, the rods smashed into the Separatist base, each impact sending shockwaves through the terrain. The reinforced structures crumbled under the bombardment, their armor useless against the sheer kinetic energy of the strike. 

Within minutes, not requiring even 5% of the available armament, the base was little more than a twisted mess of metal and scorched earth. 

'The accuracy could use improvement. Not to mention the reduced impact due to the planet's low gravity. The firing system's ejection force should be increased dramatically if it is to be effectively on zero gravity environments, perhaps even in fleet battles. Perhaps' 

'You worry needlessly for small conflicts, though I can't say I do not see the gratification in it.' 

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The battle was over. 

On the Sovereign's bridge, Lelouch observed the tactical display as the final markers on the enemy capital ships blinked green. The boarding operations had been a success. Most of the ships had been secured, their crews captured or neutralized, and the ones too damaged had been destroyed. 

As the tension on the bridge eased, the officers around Lelouch exchanged glances, some of them visibly relieved. But Lelouch remained focused, his mind already planning the next move. 

'It should be a good time to head for Skustell. Recovering the artifact shouldn't take long.' 

He turned to his officers. "Contact the rest of the fleet for departure. Sovereign will return to Eriadu to escort the captured vessels to the defense fleet once the Ion effect has dissipated. The rest of the fleet is to reorganize and set up a blockade outside Rogue Antar system." 

"Yes, sir." 

Lelouch then turned his head to his ever-present bodyguard. 

"Fordo, prepare us a ship. We're taking a detour." Lelouch said as he lifted himself from the command chair and started walking towards the elevator. 

"Parameters, sir?" Fordo asked once they were out of earshot. 

"Find and retrieve, no witnesses. Prepare the necessary equipment, notify Thorn to do the same, and bring up the K squad from the 'lower' levels." 

"As you command." 

----------------------- 

Hyperspace streaked past the massive form of the Sovereign, the sleek, ominous vessel gliding through the swirling tunnel of light and energy. Onboard, High General Lelouch stood at the center of the bridge, bathed in the cool blue glow of hyperspace, his eyes scanning the array of tactical data displayed before him. Beside him, officers worked diligently, maintaining the complex coordination needed to pilot such a leviathan of a ship. 

Following the Sovereign were half a dozen Lucrehulk-class warships, formidable behemoths of Separatist origin, now captured and under Lelouch's command. Their hulking silhouettes filled the space behind the supercruiser, their lumbering mass escorted carefully through hyperspace as the fleet made its way to Eriadu. 

Suddenly, without warning, the Sovereign dropped out of hyperspace—alone. 

Before any alarm could be raised, the sensors immediately lit up. Floating in the space before them was an Arquitens-class command cruiser. Its sleek, angular form hovered silently, as though it had been waiting for the Sovereign's arrival. There were no visible markings of the Republic Navy, though Lelouch knew this ship intimately. It was a Zero Legion black-ops vessel, one that did not officially exist, running operations that even the most well-informed members of the Senate knew nothing about. 

"Prepare transport shuttles," Lelouch ordered, turning on his heel and heading toward the hangar bay. 

In the cavernous hangar of the Sovereign, three LAAT gunships sat ready. The energy in the hangar was tense but controlled, as was typical of Lelouch's operations. Clad in black armor, Fordo and his ARC trooper squad prepared their gear with military precision. Nearby, Thorn, the commander of his own elite ARC unit, did the same. Both squads, hardened by countless battles, moved with the fluidity of veterans who had fought together for years. 

And then there was K squad, a unit whose presence commanded attention. Led by Jedi Master Coleman Kcaj, the four figures cut a striking image, each of them garbed in a combination of pristine white armor and their traditional Jedi robes. Their lightsabers hung at their sides, their hands resting close to their hilts as though always prepared for the next confrontation. Kcaj's three remaining Jedi from his original battalion, survivors of brutal campaigns, now served Lelouch with unswerving loyalty. There was an intensity in their eyes, a silent commitment to their commander that was rarely found among the Jedi. 

As Lelouch approached the shuttle, Fordo stood at attention. His helmet facing him, his posture at attention. 

"Everything is prepared, General," Fordo said with his usual clipped tone. 

Lelouch gave a small nod of approval, boarding the LAAT. The rest of the squads followed in, the shuttle's doors sealing shut as they prepared to depart. The Sovereign's massive hangar doors slid open, revealing the void of space. The three shuttles flew out in formation, darting toward the waiting Arquitens. 

Onboard the Arquitens-class cruiser, the atmosphere was much different. The corridors were dimly lit, the ship running minimal operations as befit its black-ops status. There was no fanfare, no official welcome. When Lelouch and his entourage disembarked from the LAAT, they were met by the captain of the vessel, another seasoned ARC trooper, his expression hidden behind a featureless helmet. He saluted sharply, recognizing the high command in his presence, his only direct superior. 

"Welcome aboard, General," the captain said. "We've been expecting you. Everything is ready." 

Lelouch offered a brief acknowledgment, not one for pleasantries in these situations. "We're heading to the Skustell system. Prepare the coordinates." 

The captain gave a firm nod and turned to his men to relay the order. The Arquitens jumped into hyperspace moments later, the swirling vortex of light once again surrounding the ship as it hurtled toward its destination. 

Inside the nondescript hangar of the Arquitens, another transport sat waiting, smaller and more inconspicuous than the Republic's typical craft. It was a disposable vessel, the kind used for covert operations that required no trace or attention. As the ship settled into hyperspace, Lelouch's entourage boarded this secondary transport, ready for the next phase of their mission. 

As the transport streaked toward the surface of Skustell, a world known for its volcanic terrain and industrialized environment, Lelouch stood silent. His mind was ever calculating, his focus sharp. But then, a subtle disturbance rippled through the air—a faint whisper in the Force. 

It was barely noticeable, almost like the pull of a distant memory. Yet, to Lelouch, it was unmistakable. 

"Sir?" Fordo asked, noticing the shift in Lelouch's demeanor. He could always tell when something was amiss, even without understanding the nuances of the Force. 

Lelouch didn't answer immediately. Instead, his focus turned outward, searching through the force as wide as he could. 

Before he could find anything though, a voice echoed in his mind. Tzeentch, the ever-watchful entity, appeared with her usual mischief and cryptic insight. 

"A temporal pull," she mused, her voice filled with amusement. "Something powerful in the Force is trying to bring something—to itself, disregarding time and space. It's time to enact our next phase of the plan." 

Lelouch's brow furrowed slightly. He knew better than to question Tzeentch's cryptic warnings. Their bond transcended the need for explanation. 

'This timing...' Lelouch asked quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. 

Tzeentch's grin was noticeable, even through their link. "Hehehe... it's fun to watch you worry about unnecessary little things." 

And with that, she snapped her fingers. 

Suddenly, Lelouch and K Squad found themselves no longer aboard the transport. The volcanic landscape of Skustell was nowhere to be seen. For a split second, disorientation washed over them, but their combat instincts took over almost instantly. 

Kcaj's three Jedi, their senses honed from years of training, immediately sprang into defensive positions around Lelouch. Their lightsabers ignited with a subdued hum, casting a pale blue and green glow in the smoky air. 

But Lelouch was calm. He understood this was part of Tzeentch's interference. His eyes scanned the landscape, already calculating their next steps. 

The Force was still pulling, stronger now, closer. It was as though something ancient and powerful was trying to reach out, disregarding the very fabric of reality to do so. 

Tzeentch's laughter echoed in his mind, playful yet ominous. 

"I seem to have grabbed your playthings by mistake." she whispered, as her presence faded. 

Lelouch turned his attention to the landscape, the alien structures and, more outstanding, the small rocky surfaces defying gravity and sitting in the air all over the horizon. 

'I expected more when you...' Lelouchs tarted his thought before stopping, suddenly feeling the pull in the force stop. 

'They found what they were looking for.' Tzeentch whispered. 

'The chosen one.' Lelouch confirmed as he felt Anakin nearby through the force.