=== Maximus – Just Before the Battle ===
"Brief me on the situation," the Ultramarine commanded, his voice cold and resolute as he strode into the war room upon their ship in orbit above Geonosis.
"Lord," Bo-Katan replied, quickly turning to activate the holo-feed. A flickering projection materialized before them, displaying the grim scene unfolding below in the arena. Padmé, Anakin, and Nira were being chained to towering stone pillars, their faces defiant despite the heavy restraints. A roar rose from the bloodthirsty crowd as monstrous beasts were released from their cages, stomping into the arena with murderous intent.
Maximus watched in silence, his face an unmoving mask of steel. Then, without a word, he turned to Sebastian, who stood at his right like a statue forged of iron. Maximus gave a single nod. Sebastian returned it before turning on his heel and strode from the room.
Next, Maximus looked to Raxor and gave the same command through a subtle glance. The veteran warrior bowed slightly and moved to carry out his orders.
"Ready the Centurion," Maximus said calmly.
Bo-Katan's eyes widened, her breath catching. "The Centurion, my Lord?" she asked, barely hiding the excitement in her voice.
"I have a feeling we'll be needing it soon," he replied, already turning toward the ship's hangar.
Bo-Katan followed swiftly, her steps quickening to match his stride. She had long dreamed of seeing the Centurion in action—an ancient relic of war, a suit forged not just for battle, but for devastation.
As they entered the hangar, rows of Mandalorian warriors snapped to attention. Their armor glinted under the cold lights, their visors focused on their commander. At the far end of the bay, the Centurion suit stood like a sleeping titan—twelve feet tall, its armored plates etched with sacred litanies and the insignia of the Imperium.
Maximus approached it without hesitation. Then he turned to his legion, his voice rising like thunder.
"My Legion!" he boomed, the echo of his voice rumbling through the hangar like a battle hymn.
"Today is a glorious day! Today, the Imperium arrives! We are the vanguard, the spear that pierces the hearts of our enemies!"
He began stepping into the suit. Servo-locks hissed and clicked, the armor wrapping around him like a second skin. The hangar lights dimmed briefly as the Centurion activated, its systems roaring to life with a low mechanical growl.
"Today marks the dawn of a new era—an era of conquest, of war, of glory!" His voice began to shift, deepening, becoming something more—augmented, distorted, monstrous. The voice of a God of War.
"Follow me into the jaws of the abyss! March with me into the fires of hell itself, and I will promise you a death worthy of song, and a victory eternal!"
The Legion erupted, their cries shaking the walls with fury and anticipation.
"For the Imperium!" Maximus bellowed, now fully encased, the Centurion's eyes burning with crimson light.
"For the Imperium!" they echoed, thousands of voices becoming one.
"For the Emperor!"
"For the Emperor!"
The ground itself trembled beneath their war cries, as the Legion prepared to descend like a storm upon the unsuspecting world below.
=== Raxor ===
"Ready, Brother?" Raxor asked, stepping up beside Sebastian. The Black Templar stood at the edge of the hangar bay, his gaze fixed on the dusty red surface of Geonosis spinning far below.
"Of course. Are you?" Sebastian replied, his tone calm and unwavering.
"Absolutely," the Salamander replied, racking the charging handle on his heavy bolter. The weapon seemed to purr in his grip, hungry for war.
Sebastian gave a slight nod—then without hesitation, stepped off the ledge and plummeted toward the planet below.
Raxor followed, leaping into the void with a thunderous burst from his jump pack. The wind howled around him as they streaked through the atmosphere, descending like fire-born meteors. Behind them came their Legions—black-clad Obsidian Crusaders and flame-armored Pyro Drakes—falling together like judgment from the stars.
As they neared the surface, the two Astartes split midair. Sebastian dove straight toward the heart of the arena, while Raxor angled himself toward the upper most tier of the structure. He twisted in freefall, ignited his jump pack, and slowed just enough before crashing into the arena's top, ceramite boots shattering duracrete on impact.
He rose instantly, weapon already barking.
His heavy bolter thundered to life, spewing explosive shells into the masses of Geonosians swarming below. Beside him, his Drakes arrived in a series of controlled landings, quickly fanning out and establishing a kill zone. Blasters cracked. Flamers roared. Geonosians screamed.
Raxor's visor locked onto the arena's center, where Sebastian had already engaged a writhing warp-tainted abomination. The Templar moved like a Juggernaut, his blade carving through flesh and bone with brutal efficiency.
Raxor turned back to his task, targeting clusters of Geonosians scrambling for cover. He adjusted his stance, pulled the trigger, and let the Emperor's wrath rain down.
"Filthy bugs!" he bellowed, the heavy bolter vibrating in his hands as it spat death in rapid bursts, each shot tearing wings and limbs asunder.
The Pyro Drakes beside him advanced with grim precision, sweeping the stands with blaster fire and purging flame.
Below, the Obsidian Crusaders tore through the crowd like blades through silk. The stands were turning into a slaughterhouse.
Then the battle changed.
From the far side of the arena, great doors groaned open with a deep mechanical rumble. The ground trembled as a new threat emerged—ranks of droids, but not like the ones they had faced on Naboo or in the Hutt systems. These were larger, heavier, and clearly built for war on a different scale.
Towering B2-class Super Battle Droids stomped into the arena in disciplined columns, their matte armor glinting under the harsh desert sun. Their eyes glowed with a cold, inhuman blue.
Sebastian stood over the corpse of the warp beast he had just slain, ichor dripping from his blade. He looked down from the Sorcerer, watching as the wave of metal marched toward him. He said nothing, merely shifted his stance—ready once again.
The Obsidian Crusaders moved to reinforce him, forming a wall of Beskar and gunmetal around their commander. Bolters were raised. Swords were drawn.
The droids opened fired, green plasma bolts lancing across the arena, slamming into stone, flesh, and armor alike. One Drake was hit in the chest and thrown backward, smoke pouring from his ruined armor.
"Return fire!" Raxor bellowed, opening up with his heavy bolter. The first line of droids vanished in an explosion of shrapnel and flame.
But they kept coming.
Rows upon rows, relentless and precise—an artificial tide designed for extermination.
Sebastian ripped through the advancing droids like a blade through parchment, his massive sword cleaving throughthem with every swing. Sparks flew. Metal screeched. Limbs and heads rolled in his wake. But even as he carved a path of destruction, he could see it—his Crusaders were struggling.
These machines were unlike any they had faced before. Larger, stronger, faster. Their armor withstood direct blaster shots. Their weapons punched through cover like paper. This was not the feeble resistance they encountered on Naboo, or even the hardened mercenary droids of the Hutt systems. These were designed for one thing: to kill warriors like them.
"Defensive formation!" Sebastian roared, his voice cutting through the chaos like a warhorn.
At once, the Obsidian Crusaders fell into line. With discipline honed by years of war, they deployed their shields—towering slabs of Beskar forged for this very purpose. Spears and vibroblades protruded through the gaps, and a line of blasters bristled behind the wall, ready to fire.
"Hold!" he commanded, taking the center of the shield wall himself, his massive form anchoring the line like an iron pillar.
The droids came on, relentless.
"Hold!" he bellowed again, voice raw with fury and command as plasma bolts slammed into their formation. The line held firm. Their Beskar shields absorbed the blows, their blasters fired in tight volleys, mowing down droids that refused to slow down.
Then, he gave the word.
"Advance!"
The Legion surged forward as one, a disciplined phalanx of death. The front line stabbed out, Beskar-tipped spears finding purchase in droid armor. Behind them, rows of Crusaders fired over their shoulders, focused bursts keeping the enemy off-balance.
And then—Sebastian couldn't help himself.
The joy of battle took him. The blood-song rose in his veins like a firestorm.
With a roar, he broke rank, surging forward in a blur of black armor and holy wrath. His sword arced in wide, brutal sweeps, severing limbs and torsos in gory rhythm. He carved a path into the tide, a one-man hurricane of death and steel.
His Crusaders didn't falter.
They closed ranks behind him, filling the gap with seamless precision, as though they had trained for this very moment—because they had. They knew their commander. They knew the fire that burned within him.
Sebastian pressed forward, droid parts flying in every direction, his mind locked on two objectives.
Primary: Protect the Legion. Keep them fighting. Hold the line.
Secondary: Find the Chaos Sorcerer. End the true threat.
Somewhere in this maelstrom of metal and death, that creature still lurked—pulling strings, feeding the storm.
Sebastian would find him, and he would kill him.
Just as Sebastian drove his blade through the chest of another droid, cleaving it in two with a hiss of molten metal, he heard it.
A distant whine growing louder, sharper, cutting through the roar of battle like the cry of something ancient waking from slumber.
He looked up.
The skies above Geonosis, already choked with smoke and fire, split with the thunder of incoming transports. LAAT gunships descended in formation, red and white hulls gleaming against the chaos below. Gun turrets opened fire mid-descent, raining blaster bolts into the ranks of droids inside the arena walls.
Then came the dropships—slamming into the earth, ramps lowering as white-armored troopers charged out with military discipline.
The Republic had arrived.
Clone Troopers, their armor pristine and gleaming, moved in tight squads—coordinated, relentless, deadly. Outside the arena AT-TE walkers were dropped off and started stomping into view behind the army of the republic, their cannons booming across the Geonosian plains as they fired into droid formations still mobilizing in the distance.
Back in the arena at the front of it all were the Jedi.
Sebastian's visor zoomed in, tracking the flashes of light amidst the incoming Republic forces. Cloaks billowed. Lightsabers ignited in blues and greens. They moved like dancers on a battlefield, slicing through droids in a blur of precision and grace.
He growled.
"They're here…" he muttered into the vox.
Above him, Raxor saw it too.
Sebastian narrowed his eyes. "They'll pick off the remaining droids. I'm going after that Sorcerer."
Below, the Obsidian Crusaders held their formation. The droids were now being attacked from two fronts—Imperial and Republic.
Then, a Jedi landed in the arena—leaping from his gunship mid-flight, cloak whipping behind him as he crashed into the dirt with seismic force. Dust and shattered stone kicked up around him as his lightsaber ignited in a flash of violet light before the Black Templar.
Sebastian stopped, eyes narrowing beneath his helmet as he took in the figure standing before him.
"You're not going anywhere, Black Templar." Mace Windu said, his voice calm but edged like a blade. His amethyst lightsaber thrummed with power, held steady in a two-handed guard before him.
The battlefield raged around them, blaster fire, screams, the grinding thunder of droids clashing with Clone Troopers and Legionaries alike, but for a moment, it all fell away. The two warriors locked eyes. One a champion of the Force, the other a holy executioner of the Emperor's will.
"Get out of my way, Jedi." Sebastian growled, his voice deep and warped through his vox-grille. He stepped forward, dragging his massive black blade behind him, leaving a furrow in the sand and blood-soaked stone.
Windu just shook his head.
"I've been training for this moment for a long time. You won't get away again."
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