{Ryloth / 30 minutes before the start of the final assault / Space over Ryloth}
Several Interceptor-class frigates orbited the planet alongside an old Thranta-class corvette from the era of the Old Republic, positioned as escorts for the Gozanti-class cruisers that had just arrived to deploy more supplies and troops. Suddenly, unknown ships began to appear on the Black Sun vessels' radars. Five warships with gray armored hulls and angular lines emerged from hyperspace. The turbolasers locked onto them without hesitation and opened fire, but the worst was yet to come—an even larger ship emerged behind the five smaller ones. While the smaller warships measured around 300 to 400 meters, this colossal vessel stretched to 1,100 meters in length.
On the bridge of the massive ship stood Admiral Johan Qin, a man in his sixties belonging to the newly founded and ambitious Gaian League, the successor to the Grim Covenant, born out of expansion—military, cultural, and planetary. His ship, The Pactbearer, was one of the newly built Legacy-class vessels.
"Target the main ship with all batteries—disable it. Deploy fighters and prepare boarding parties. Have the Profaned break formation and provide ground support. The rest of us will attack from both flanks while we spearhead through the center. We will be both the spear and the shield."
Over Ryloth began the first true battle of the Royal Navy in the known space of a galaxy far, far away. Red energy bolts filled the void as the Interceptor-class frigates clashed with four Unity-class destroyers—also known as Terminus-class destroyers from the Sith Empire of the Old Republic. Unfortunately for the criminal syndicate, only the shape of those ancient designs remained. Everything else had been modernized, and it showed: the mercenary ships were quickly disabled or destroyed. The decisive blow came from the Pactbearer, which annihilated the old Thranta-class corvette with a single broadside from its heavy batteries, displaying the power of this new war machine to the galaxy.
Meanwhile, the Unity-class destroyer that had separated from the formation reached low orbit near the enemy base, deploying fighters, bombers, transports, vehicles, and troops. Among its forces were JAS 39C/Ds loaded with Mark 82 and Mark 83 bombs, next to the next-generation Alpha-3 Nimbus-class V-wing starfighters designed by Walex Blissex. Alongside them launched Tyzon-class shuttles and Dragon gunships packed with soldiers and tanks, supported further by ground-based Me262s with explosive payloads. Z-95s and V-wings escorted the transports in tight formation.
{Back to the present}
Lines of prisoners were marched under the watchful eyes of base soldiers, many of whom were resting or receiving medical attention. Mercenaries carried the bodies of their fallen comrades to one of the many mass graves they had dug themselves. Newly arrived Marines helped move the dead to shuttles that would ferry them, along with the wounded, back to the ships in orbit. Those ships had established a temporary blockade around the planet—allowing traffic to and from the Republic and the natives but barring any unidentified vessels.
Among the fallen was Annika Cross, her body carried to a shuttle as her friend Mason Austin watched in silence. Both had been inside the bunker when it exploded. Though they survived the blast, Annika was finished off by enemy troops who stormed through the breach, while Mason, his face burned and his right arm reduced to a bandaged stump in a sling, had been left for dead.
At the command center, Major Taradan Dunlseg, a bald brown Zabrak and commander of the base, spoke with Admiral Johan Qin about the orders given by the new Supreme Leader Maximus.
"Your orders are to prepare all equipment and personnel for total evacuation of the planet. Any gear that cannot be transported must either be handed to friendly forces on-world or destroyed. From this moment, you and your troops answer directly to the Admiral in charge of the evacuation operation. Transmission ends."
"As you heard, Major," the Admiral added, "these orders have been issued to all of our bases in known space—except Tatooine, Naboo, Hoth, Bespin, and Yavin. Why those outposts remain excluded is unknown, but we must obey. Ready your men and equipment for immediate abandonment of the planet."
"As you command," Taradan replied before the transmission cut. He turned to his officers: "You heard him. We must leave this planet at once. Ready the troops for immediate evacuation, contact Cham Syndulla and negotiate an arrangement, and destroy the entire airfield—from fighters to fuel and munitions. Nothing must remain. The Republic will investigate this, just as they will the other strikes across their territories. Move quickly, gentlemen—we have much to do and little time to do it."
These movements not only alarmed the forces of Maximus but also the entire galaxy, both great and small. From the Senate of the Republic to scattered bounty hunters, all now knew of the military power wielded by this corporation.
The sudden show of strength filled the Core Worlds with dread, for they understood the Republic's judicial forces could not contain such a threat. Worse yet, the League was not part of the Senate—meaning no trade embargoes or sanctions could be enforced, only public denunciations branding them as a menace to democracy. Many shared that sentiment, but others saw it as an opportunity to bolster their own militaries for defense, and some openly supported the League—including the Queen of Naboo, the people of Ryloth, the governor of Bespin, and several senators from the Mid and Outer Rim who had long benefited from its aid.
Meanwhile, rival criminal syndicates seized the chance to bite into Black Sun territory—and to give the League newfound respect.
And as the galaxy reeled, the architect of this upheaval resided calmly in the private gardens of his villa on Arx Lumina, awaiting his guest. She entered, flanked by the elite of his personal guard—the finest of the fine.
His guest was a pale-skinned, short-haired young woman no older than seventeen, athletic and sharp-eyed, distrust radiating from her every movement—especially surrounded by so many guards.
"Leave us," he ordered. The guards withdrew. "I know who you are, and what you are—or rather, what you will be capable of with the right training. Now, give me your weapon."
The girl's eyes narrowed. Instead of obeying, she pulled a sharp metal shard from her boot and lunged, intent on killing him or taking him hostage to escape. In a blur of motion, she was disarmed, thrown to the ground, her arm twisted painfully behind her back.
"You still have much to learn—but it is good your instincts remain sharp. Now calm yourself, or I will be forced to truly hurt you."
She stopped resisting, rising back to her feet to face the strange man.
"Good. Now let us start over. I am Maximus—the creator of all you see, the leader of all these people, and more. And you, my dear, I hope will come to enjoy your stay. When you have rested and adjusted, return to me. Until then…"
He glanced at the device on his wrist. With a gesture, four women of different races entered from behind him. For reasons she could not place, each radiated danger.
"These will be your guides and teachers during your time here. Their leader is the Mirialan, Candara. I look forward to seeing you again, my young guest."
And with that, Maximus departed through another archway of the garden, leaving the girl in the presence of the four mysterious women.