Chapter 43: Epilogue

A fiery hell unfolds beneath the galaxy’s largest battle droid manufacturing plant. The facility collapses in on itself like a house of cards with its foundations ripped out, crumbling into ruin and taking with it the droid armies and the Separatist high command.

Now, this once-flawless fortress system is no more dangerous than a base of pirates dead-drunk on spotchka. Of course, field units remain, posing a significant threat...

However, they stand not even a ghost of a chance against one of the strongest Sith in the galaxy. Lord Vader has decided to settle this matter personally. At the head of his 501st Legion, he carves a path of total destruction. The droids he has loathed since the days of the Clone Wars now feel the full weight of his fury, all the agony that rages within him.

Out of old habit, he tallies his fallen enemies. The count now reaches into the hundreds, if not thousands, of machines destroyed by his hand alone.

And this is but one front. Across every sector, the Imperial machine has ground into motion, pulverizing its enemy.

******

The blue-skinned near-human sat in his command chair, fingers interlaced, watching the annihilation of the enemy forces with keen focus. This was not his victory to claim. His mission had been to hold the line until their arrival, a task he had executed perfectly, preserving a maximum number of vessels despite the variables.

Red eyes tracked the movement of the allied forces, noting both tactical errors and inspired maneuvers.

Beside him hovered the hologram of the Emperor, who likewise observed his triumph.

"Excellent work, Mitth'raw'nuruodo."

"I thank you, My Lord. This war has taught me much."

"I trust your talents will continue to serve the Empire well... Admiral."

Thrawn bowed his head in a gesture of appreciation.

"I am grateful, Emperor, that you have seen fit to recognize my skills."

"You have long proven yourself far more capable than the majority of my other officers. And now, there is a formal occasion for it. What are your thoughts on our next steps, Admiral?"

"I believe this marks the effective end of the war. The bulk of their fleet has been neutralized. Unless, of course, they have concealed another, though I find that outcome highly improbable. Their largest droid foundry was detonated minutes ago; they lack the strength to oppose the Empire. However, if they are not eradicated now, they may retreat further into the Unknown Regions and attempt to rebuild their military power. Who can say what strange allies they might find there? That could pose a distinct danger."

"Very well. In that case, you, Admiral Mitth'raw'nuruodo, shall take command of the naval forces. I suspect the extermination of the Separatists will be in your personal interest as well."

Thrawn bowed once more, signaling his understanding of the command. He had anticipated this turn of events.

******

The Grand Inquisitor looked on grimly at the site where the factory once stood. Now, nothing remained but a colossal heap of white-hot rubble.

"Sir, the tractor haulers have been brought in per your order. But they cannot begin work yet. If they engage now, the clamps will be damaged and the machinery will suffer premature failure."

"Inform those who disagree: they shall die by my hand if they do not begin immediately."

The Inquisitor’s voice was calm, a sharp contrast to his internal state. His apprentice played a vital role in his future designs. The boy had met every expectation placed upon him: intelligent, powerful, a quick study. Furthermore, a replacement would be impossible to find. It was no longer the Inquisitors, but specialized hunters who tracked Force-sensitive children now. Unless he were to find one himself and train them on some remote world... but that was far too problematic.

"Must I repeat the order, soldier?"

"No, sir. Right away, sir!"

All that remained was to hope that Set could survive beneath the wreckage until help arrived. He could still feel it, his apprentice was still alive.