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Vorth Nis’Vargarth Nis’Illias Nis’Vorilsan sat within a great room. The walls were etched with patterns and images that spoke of great battles and victories, and that also simply were of soothing value to the aging Trangkar warlord. In the days since the fall of the Imperial House his line had been one of the few of the old nobility that had managed to retain its former influence and governorship over several systems. And in that process they had made many enemies, many enemies that could have been behind the faint sounds of rumbling and explosions that rocked the former governorial palace. 

The warlord assumed logically that it was yet another attempt on his life. Someone thought to kill him, to end the glorious rebirth of the Imperium? He would slay these fools who dared to assault his palace, and he would see them flayed alive and executed in accordance with the oldest traditions. They would join the Braxians in the annals of those who had been destroyed by the Imperium. With an expression that still seemed calm Vorth Nis’Vargarth Nis’Illias Nis Vorilsan raised a crystal glass filled with a noxious blue fluid and sipped from it as his mind linked with the security feed, the neural net opening before his access codes.

Immediately he attempted to contact the nearest of his military establishments to order and immediate reinforcement of his position. But there was no response. It mattered little, of this the warlord war certain, no enemies would be able to fight past his guard. As another explosion rocked the palace he raised the crystal glass to his mouth again and drank deeply as he linked his mind with the security feed again, ostensibly to watch the death of the intruders.

The gold and white armored figure dove to the side, rolling over before rising into a crouch and firing several nebulous blasts of plasma even as the hyper dense kinetic rounds from the Trangkar railguns tore holes in the floor and walls of the palace. Three of the plasma bursts struck their intended targets and force fields surrounding them flared a dull crimson as they managed to shed the energy. The fourth burst seemed to miss, sailing past the guards to strike a pillar and incinerate a portion of it.

But even as the trio of guards attempted to bring their weapons to bear on the attacker the pillar behind them gave way and several tons of reinforced metal and stone came crashing down on them, easily overwhelming the weakened force fields. To the figure in gold and white armor’s credit it had never stopped moving, as soon as the shots had been fired the armored attacker had ignored the guards knowing they were already dead.

Even as the last hissing pops from the dying force fields of the guards faded the attacker was gone, heading directly for the last of the primary defense checkpoints before the throne room. The attack had been so rapid and unexpected, there had been no warning before the communications were severed and the high impact kinetic strikes obliterated many of the defensive emplacement, that even now the forces of the Warlord come Imperator had just managed to gather in force to defend one of the objectives. 

Force field barricades erupted from hastily activated generators and turrets whirred to life as the soldiers and guards prepared to defend the entrance to the throne room. Several hydra missile soldiers, relics from before the fall of the original Imperium had their hellish weapons trained on the only entrance to the chamber and a host of the ordinary guard rail guns were similarly aimed that way. 

Several moments passed with no movement from the doorway, and the sounds of combat outside had faded away. Then there was a hissing noise from above as a blade of plasma sliced a hole in the ceiling from within the ventilation system and a silver egg shaped object was dropped through the small hole. To the credit of the hydra soldiers they got off several shots before the egg detonated and the pulse of hard light shredded them along with half the other guards. 

And then a chunk of the ceiling collapsed, bringing down the gold and white armored figure in a storm of perfectly placed shots that incapacitated the remaining guards. Before the figure could reach the doorway into the throne room blast doors slid shut, sealing the throne room off. Out came the plasma sword again.

The aging warlord had removed himself from the feed in disgust as his guards were slaughtered. Of course it was yet another sign that his rule was needed, if the state of the Imperium had fallen so far that a single invader could fight through his entire guard things were in grave need of correction. There was barely a sliver of fear as the intruder went to work on the blast doors. He would deal with this invader personally.

Vorth Nis’Vargarth Nis’Illias Nis’Vorilsan pressed a button on the side of his throne and the wall behind him slid open to reveal his own personal weapons. It had been many years since he last donned his own weapons and armor, like the hydra soldiers who had been part of his guards it was a relic of the old Imperium, much as he himself was. 
As the blast doors parted and the intruder entered the chamber the self-proclaimed Imperator of the Trangkar Imperium greeted it with a storm of rail gun fire from the arm mounted units on his own armor. He was shocked as the intruder simply fired two shots in his direction before rolling in the time it took the rail gun rounds to actually reach it. He barely was able to register the motion and as he tried to bring the guns to bear again the twin plasma bolts struck the railguns and reduced them to slag. 

But he was not defenseless, and his long service as one of the elite of the old Imperium had taught him many tricks of his own. A hasty transmission to the complex security activated the damper field in the chamber and the next shots of the plasma rifle fizzled before they could move more than a few feet from the gun. Attempting to take advantage of what he assumed would shock the invader the warlord activated his own melee weapons, twin blades of plasma emerging from generators on the palms of his hands. 

“Whatever you are, whoever you are, you will not leave this place alive.” He spoke as a suit fueled burst of speed carried him in a lightning attack on the intruder. His strike was still too slow however as the invader holstered the rifle and the flash of plasma igniting sounds as twin long whips made from the unstable matter flicked out to tangle with his own blades.

While the whips could not stop his charge they weren’t intended to and the invader slipped to his side and pulled as he sped past. This put tension on the plasma blades that shouldn’t have been applied and the generators within the antique armor suit were quickly overloaded. The blades winked out and the intruder whirled in a practiced motion, flicking the whips out again to wrap around the Warlord’s armor. 

One wrapped around his neck and the other pinched his legs together as the reek of melting metal filled the room. The last thing the aged Trangkar felt was surprise as the whip of plasma finished cutting through the armor and tightened around his neck, neatly removing his head from his body. 

The plasma whips vanished as they were deactivated and the gold and white armored figure moved forward and picked up the severed head. It raised a palm to the face and scanned it as a holographic projection manifested. “Mission accomplished.” The figure spoke simply in a neutral and artificial tone that was filtered through the suit. 

“Your efficiency is appreciated as always.” Came the reply as the other Trangkar, one who looked much younger and wore garb similar to what the warlord had donned. “You know of course that such cannot be traced to me, the treaties forbid consolidation. You will need to vanish for a time until the next contract.”

“I have plans. They are outside all jurisdiction.”

The Trangkar appeared surprised, “What business could you have on a fringe world that could not pay your price.”

“Vengeance and a Reckoning.” The armored figure answered before cutting the communication links.