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Harold Potter – The Marauder – in route to Ruusan.

Harold stood observing and calibrating the runic matrices of the Marauder. The orbital strike that had exterminated the second abomination had been an excellent field test, and certain corrections and parameters had to be adjusted.

Now more than ever, as he was heading into another battle, one far more complicated than his excursion on Dathomir, apparently.

The doors of the arcane chamber, the heart of the Marauder’s systems, opened smoothly, at the same time that elegant and feminine footsteps made their presence known, Harold recognizing the intruder instantly.

After all, only one other person besides him could enter here.

“I see you’re still calibrating your toys, my love,” said Bo’s sensual and soft voice, now clad in her freshly cleaned armor. The redhead was in an excellent mood after the invigorating battle on Dathomir.

“Yes. Our incursion into Ruusan will be far more dangerous than our visit to Dathomir. Your sister’s report indicates severe resistance. The Marauder will deploy directly over the planet, and we will begin providing immediate support to the Iron Wolves,” said the Emperor with determination, making Bo nod at his side, eager to fight again.

Harry smiled and shook his head as he finished making the final adjustments to the weapons systems.

“Are our companions adapting well?” Harold asked, nodding to himself as he heard the familiar sound of arcane sparks—prepared and ready to power the ship’s plasma cannons.

“The Dathomirians are fulfilling their duties. Ten of them are cataloguing and organizing all the information about their culture and customs into your data crystals, a titanic task, I must say,” Bo said, shuddering at the mere thought of the endless hours those poor women would spend on such tedious work.

Harold looked at her with amusement; he didn’t need Legilimency to know what Bo was thinking.

“I see… so if I ever need to discipline you, I’ll assign you bureaucratic work with Oola and Hala as punishment,” he said with amusement, laughing loudly at the look of absolute terror on the redhead’s face.

“You wouldn’t dare,” she said uncertainly. Harry simply raised an eyebrow, neither confirming nor denying her words.

He would leave his mischievous redhead with the figurative guillotine hanging over her head but now that the weapons were calibrated, he had something more important to do.

“Go and check that the droids are ready for deployment. We will arrive at Ruusan soon. Prepare the special package, Dreadnought protocol,” Harry ordered seriously, making Bo look at him with complete astonishment for a moment before smiling with clear excitement on her face.

“All of them?”

Harry nodded, making the redhead grow even more excited. Giving a respectful salute, she left the arcane chamber of the Marauder, heading directly toward the barracks.

Without a doubt, Bo would have a great deal of fun once they descended onto Ruusan.

However, Harry was not thinking about that—but about what he had seen in the recording Satine had sent.

About that mysterious figure, casting spells—spells that, supposedly, only he knew.

How the hell was there someone else in this galaxy who knew spells from the Magical World?

Harry did not have the answer—but he would make sure to find out one way or another.

Without saying a single word, Harry disappeared from the rune chamber and instantly appeared in the most secret place in the entire ship, so secret that not even Bo knew of its existence.

The room he was in was a laboratory, a kind of arcane-technological workshop, without a doubt the most secret and dangerous place in the entire empire.

His personal workshop.

And within it were two stasis tubes, containing what appeared to be a pair of human women in suspended stasis.

With solemnity, Harold inhaled deeply and spoke.

“Marauder, updated report on the status of Project Custodes,” he said with gravity, reading the new data regarding the condition of his “daughters.”

“Test subjects of Project Custodes stable and fully matured. Designations: Eva and Lilith. They present acceptable growth within established parameters. Magical cores detected and stable. Requested genetic parameters prepared and ready.”

Harold nodded, satisfied, looking at those who would become the first of his personal guard, designed not to serve the empire…

But to serve him.

He was not so arrogant as to think he did not need protection; a simple oversight and everything could go to hell, and with so much at stake, that was not an option he could afford.

“Report on the status of the combat armor, designation Valkyrie,” he ordered, while carefully reading the reports on Lilith and Eva in detail.

At once, the Marauder projected the technical parameters of the pair of armors that were assembled and ready in the lower section of the workshop.

They were beautiful, elegant, and feminine, with an evidently traditional inspiration, but adapted to the technological level of the galaxy accompanied by the first prototype of guardian spears, the most powerful infantry weapons in the empire’s arsenal.

Together, a single armor and a single spear cost more than a stellar fortress…

And Harry would need at least ninety-eight more… to complete his one hundred Custodes Maidens…

“Everything appears to be in order,” said the Emperor, satisfied, seeing that both his warriors and the armors were prepared and ready to be deployed.

Satine’s reports were… concerning. The Iron Wolves were fierce and powerful, and according to the reports, they were taking considerable casualties.

Of course, he knew perfectly well that all would receive honors in Mandalore and that, after such a glorious battle, recruitment for the chapter would double, but even so, they were lives lost because of an unknown enemy.

And the Emperor intended to make whoever was responsible pay for such insolence.

“Begin preparation of the armors, as well as the awakening process of Lilith and Eva. It is time,” said the Emperor with solemnity.

And the ship obeyed instantly.

The lights of the workshop changed from a warm yellow to flickering repeatedly in green, while the stasis tubes began to activate, causing both warriors to open their eyes instantly, revealing their warm, intelligent, and powerful amethyst eyes, the result of all the genetic and magical manipulation behind their creation. Their silver hair, long and silky, adjusted to their naked bodies, covered by runic tattoos that glowed softly.

In an instant, the tanks opened, and both women stepped out of them—disoriented and curious—looking around before focusing their gaze on the Emperor and bowing, their hands striking their chests softly as they spoke their first words.

“Eva? Lilith?” Harold asked with a certain caution, hoping everything had gone well.

Both ethereal women nodded softly, still confused—but clearly awaiting orders.

“Your orders, Emperor?” they said at the same time, in complete submission to the Emperor’s authority.

Harry frowned at the mechanical nature of their words, but there was no time to make adjustments. The battle awaited him, and for every second he remained here, more loyal men and women of the Empire were dying.

“To battle, Eva, Lilith. Your suits are prepared. You are the first Maidens Custodes of the Empire—my first daughters. Make me proud,” he said with solemnity, making both women nod with straight backs, pleased by the Emperor’s words, and without responding, they went to prepare themselves for battle.

Watching them leave, Harold sighed—tired but satisfied with a job well done—at least until a familiar voice manifested behind him.

“You walk a thin line between magnificence and blasphemy.”

Harold did not need to turn to know who it was.

“I assume… you do not approve,” he said without surprise, turning around and looking once again at the image of his mother.

“On the contrary, I approve of them completely. They are beautiful, elegant, and their bond to me beats strongly. You are a talented forger of life,” said the Lady, surprising him greatly—he had expected a reprimand for the creation of Lilith and Eva.

“But… it is important that you understand one thing: just because you are capable of doing something, does not mean it is right to do it,” she said—and there was the reprimand Harold had been expecting.

“I will not create abominations like the ones we fought on Concordia and Dathomir, if that is what concerns you,” he said with a certain sharpness, still affected by the events on Dathomir.

Alas, if the Lady was affected by the coldness of his words, she ignored it completely.

“You are about to enter Ruusan, a beautiful world that has been damaged to such an extent that my presence within it has been weakened. The actions of the past caused a wound in the Force, weakening the barrier between planes. Your soldiers are facing formidable enemies. I do not want you to lower your guard for even a second, Harold,” said the Lady, with something she had never shown before toward the Emperor.

Concern.

And that tiny detail put him completely on alert.

“There is something you are not telling me,” he stated with a hint of reproach—and the Lady’s silence simply confirmed it.

“Unify the Hutt space, rid it of those blasphemous creatures and their barbaric practices, and we will speak with depth and sincerity—I give you my word,” said the Lady, causing the very universe itself to tremble, giving truth to her promise.

Harold inhaled deeply before nodding slowly.

“My power is at your disposal, my champion. Use it. Banish chaos and the usurper of Ruusan—claim it as your own,” said the Lady, disappearing in her physical form, but channeling her connection through Harold at the exact moment the systems of the Marauder reported their arrival at Ruusan.

The Emperor’s eyes shone like two emerald suns. Asterion trembled with excitement in his hand as his armor assembled itself around his body.

The Emperor had arrived.

Enemies of the Lady beware.

Markus Rice, Into the battle – Ruusan.

“THERE ARE TOO MANY!!” one of his brothers shouted at his side, unloading an entire thermal clip into an abomination straight out of hell.

Markus was in cover, using his last magazine and preparing himself to deal with these infernal beings.

The battle had been glorious—Mandalorian brothers and sisters fighting with ferocity against endless hordes of enemies until the very end, and for every wolf that fell, a hundred enemies were brought down.

However… the enemy was relentless.

In addition to the cursed soldiers, terrifying unknown beasts began to emerge from those damn portals, wreaking havoc on the vanguard and forcing the Wolves to fall back into a defensive position.

The pair of Jedi and the mysterious warrior were of great help, wreaking havoc among the enemies and giving them the opportunity to regroup and fortify the hill—but the enemy hordes simply seemed endless.

The Glory of Mandalore was providing orbital cover, but the sheer volume of enemies would overwhelm them.

Perhaps… perhaps they would die today. It was far too real a possibility—but Markus would not go down on his knees.

With fury, the captain looked at one of the banners of his chapter—the famous Wolf of Terra, implacable predators, born hunters.

Dangerous, like them, the Mandalorians.

If he died today, he would take a thousand of these abominations with him—that he could swear.

With effort, Markus took the destroyed banner of the Iron Wolves, ripping it from the hands of a fallen legionary.

“Honorable brother, your sacrifice will be remembered,” Markus said with as much solemnity as he could muster, as he took the banner and, with extreme difficulty, began to rise to his feet.

“BROTHERS! RALLY WITH ME!!” he shouted—a raw, emotional cry—as he planted the banner into the soil of Ruusan.

“IN THE NAME OF EMPEROR HAROLD! DEATH TO THE ENEMIES OF THE EMPIRE AND HONOR TO OUR FALLEN!!” he roared as he began firing into the wave of infernal creatures, while more and more legionaries slowly raised banners and formed a defensive line.

Spears and hammers at the front, with flamethrowers and plasma assault rifles at the rear—the Wolves honored their name, and now, with a second wind, began to push the enemy back.

Because, though numerous, these pathetic beings were utterly inferior to Imperial superiority.

“FOR HOLY TERRA!” Markus shouted, unloading the last shots of his pistol as the enemy began pushing the legionaries back once more.

Then it happened.

A flash of emerald light, followed by a burst of wind, was the only sign that something had entered the atmosphere.

And when Markus looked up…

He could not help but smile.

The Marauder was here, colossal and imposing, making the Fury of Mandalore look like a toy, being at least four times larger than Princess Satine’s ship.

And then—plasma began to rain.

Literally.

Unlike the diplomatic vessel, the Marauder was an assault battleship, designed to besiege entire planets, armed with forty heavy plasma cannons capable of piercing entire capital ships which now began to lash the surface of Ruusan, carbonizing a large portion of the enemy soldiers in the first volley.

And then the communications came alive.

The Wolves heard the voice of Princess Consort Bo.

“Reinforcements have arrived, Wolves—deploying with a Dreadnought contingent.”

Those were the only words Markus and the Wolves heard before seeing how, from the lower bay of the Marauder, multiple emerald flashes began to descend toward the planet, followed by drop pods loaded with combat droids.

The cavalry had arrived.

The closer the mysterious points came, the more disbelief and hope filled the Wolves and the moment the first unknown object landed...

“Ultra-heavy frontal assault droid—designation Dreadnought—ready for combat,” said the robotic voice.

Markus could only watch in disbelief and admiration as the damn colossi—bipedal walking tanks, with an ultra-heavy plasma minigun in one hand and a terrifying war mace in the other—began landing on the frontlines of the battle, and without a shred of mercy, began massacring the enemy, advancing slowly toward the blue portals from which those creatures emerged.

And as if that were not enough...

An emerald radiance illuminated the skies of Ruusan, as the storm clouds that had battered them throughout the battle completely dispersed, revealing the Divine Figure of the Emperor—flanked by a pair of warrior maidens Markus had never seen before.

They, like the Emperor, levitated at his side like two loyal bodyguards.

But without a doubt, the most impressive sight was the spectral figure that appeared behind them—easily recognizable across the entire Empire…

The Lady herself.

Manifesting behind her champion—the Lord of the Empire.

The mere divine presence of the Emperor filled the Wolves with motivation, as they saw how his presence alone generated a kind of… radiance that began to slowly heal them.

However, the most extreme reactions were, without a doubt, those of the enemy—who were incapable of approaching the magnificent radiance the Emperor emitted.

And then…

The battle was no longer about survival...

But conquest.

The Iron Wolves were no longer cornered prey…

But hunters, reinforced by the Alpha of alphas.

And in the face of such emotion, Markus could not help but raise his plasma pistol and shout with complete devotion and fervor:

“FOR THE EMPEROR!!”

An action that rapidly spread across the entire battlefield—again and again—all the Wolves in unison.

The real battle…

Had only just begun.

It was time for the hunt.