(A/N: Hello all you beautiful readers. I know that you don't know who I am, you just read my stories. My wife and I have been through one hell of a year, with her having multiple surgeries, including one to remove her large intestines and colon.
Modern medicine is truly a miracle from the Emperor, because she's doing fine now.
But now, we are finally able to start something we've wanted to do since we got married. Start a family. For the last 4 out of the 5 years we've been married, we've been struggling with infertility. Recently we have been able to start the process of IVF through the help of family and friends, which we are deeply grateful for.
But now I would ask something from you. I don't know if you're religious or not, but I am a deeply religious man. If you would, could you please say a prayer for my Wife and I? On Friday we go in for the first procedure, which, if the Good Lord is willing, will be the first step of creating our own family.
I would greatly appreciate it, and would be in your debit.
Thank you. I appreciate each and every single one of you. I hope you know that.
Now! Onto the story!
This chapter might feel a little different then the one before. I feel like I wrote that the Astartes were a little less… Space Marine like when talking to Satine. So I changed the tone a little bit. Please tell me what you think!
===Duchess Satine===
Sitting in her study, the Duchess gazed out the window, watching the bustling streets below. Thousands of people moved about their day, unaware of the weighty decisions being made within the walls of the palace.
Her attention shifted to the scattered reports on her desk. Most were routine updates about the city's activities, but one document in particular had unsettled her. It was a report about the Death Watch—once again making moves, but for what purpose, she could not yet determine.
The Duchess leaned back in her chair, her fingers absently tracing the edge of the paper. The city was at peace for now, but the Death Watch had always been a shadow, lurking just out of sight. Their sudden reemergence could mean trouble, but Satine knew better than to act on assumptions. She needed more information.
The door to her study swung open suddenly, and a guard clad in armor stepped inside, bowing respectfully.
"Duchess, we've received a communication request from the planet Naboo. It's from Queen Amidala," he reported, standing at attention.
Satine turned her gaze toward the man, curiosity piqued. Why would the young Queen be reaching out?
"Very well, I'll take it here," she replied with a nod, dismissing the guard.
With a press of a button on her desk, a hologram flickered to life, revealing Queen Amidala seated on her throne, regal as ever.
"Duchess, thank you for receiving me," Padmé said, bowing her head slightly, an act Satine mirrored in return.
"To what do I owe the pleasure, Your Majesty?" Satine asked, her tone polite but keen.
Skipping past the pleasantries, Padmé got straight to the matter at hand.
"I've recently forged an alliance with some rather… unique individuals. They've asked that I reach out to you, so they may speak with you in person."
Satine raised an eyebrow, intrigued but cautious. The political landscape was fraught with intrigue, and alliances with "unique individuals" could mean many things—most of them dangerous. But if there was a potential for peace, or even stability, Satine knew better than to dismiss it outright.
"Forged an alliance?" Satine echoed. "And who exactly are these... 'unique individuals'?"
Padmé's face remained neutral, but her eyes hinted at the weight of what she was about to say. "They are not from Naboo, Duchess, nor from any world that you may be familiar with. They are warriors—fighters, but also strategists. They come from a distant galaxy, a galaxy where the chaos of war is unending."
Satine leaned forward slightly, her fingers tapping lightly on her desk. "And what do they want from me? What is it that they expect to gain from this meeting?"
"They want to discuss obtaining Beskar... and possibly offer their help," Padmé replied carefully. "But I believe their presence could be of great value to your city, Duchess. Their strength, their expertise—it could aid you in securing your rule, especially with… the Death Watch."
Satine's heart skipped a beat at the mention of the Death Watch. She wasn't sure if these "unique individuals" could be trusted, but the mention of aid in dealing with the Death Watch stirred a sense of urgency in her.
"I see," Satine said, her voice steady but her mind racing. "And how would this meeting proceed?
Padmé paused for a moment, collecting her thoughts before continuing.
"They are… intense. Incredibly so. Don't let them push you around. They seem to respect strong authority, even if they disagree with it. Maximus will be the one leading them; he's the more reasonable of the group. But be careful around the one in black-and-white armor—he's extremely vicious. The one who wears green is quieter, but no less dangerous," Padmé warned.
Satine absorbed the information carefully, her brow furrowing slightly.
"Interesting. Thank you for bringing this to my attention. When will they arrive?" she asked, her voice steady but laced with curiosity.
"They're leaving Naboo now, so you have some time. Please, treat them with respect. They are incredibly powerful. You'll understand what I mean when they arrive," Padmé said, her tone carrying an edge of concern.
With that, the hologram flickered and cut off, leaving Satine alone once more with her thoughts.
===
Now the three massive Astartes stood before her, their armor battered and scarred from some unseen battle, evidence of an enemy they had undoubtedly defeated. Satine's gaze moved from one to the next, taking in their imposing presence.
First, she looked at the one in blue armor. He stood rigid, as if nothing—nothing but his own unyielding will—could topple him.
Then, her attention shifted to the Astartes in black-and-white armor. His helmet was cracked, revealing one cold, intense eye. The hatred she saw in the Black Templar's gaze was unmistakable, unsettling, and it chilled her to the core.
Finally, her eyes moved to the Salamander. He stood with a more relaxed posture, as if the conversation meant little to him, a hint of disinterest in his manner, though his gaze remained sharp.
"I have a proposal for you," Satine said, leaning back on her throne, her gaze steady as she looked down at the towering Astartes. Even from her elevated position, their imposing presence filled the room.
"I have a problem that I think you would be suited to handle."
The Black Templar immediately tensed, his hands clenching into fists.
"We are not mercenaries, woman," he growled. "We are the Adeptus Astartes. The Emperor's finest warriors!"
He took a step forward, his anger palpable, but was halted by Maximus, who moved to stand in his place. The leader of the trio regarded Satine with a calm, unwavering gaze.
"My brother speaks the truth," Maximus said, his voice low and commanding. "You insult us by thinking we can be bought into doing your bidding."
Satine remained calm, her gaze unwavering as she met the Astartes' sharp, intense optics. She could feel the weight of their presence in the room, the sheer force of their power radiating from them. The Black Templar's words struck her, but she did not let them rattle her. She had dealt with many powerful individuals in her time; these warriors were no different.
She leaned forward slightly, her voice measured, cutting through the tension in the room.
"I did not mean to insult you, Astartes," she said, her tone firm yet respectful. "I am not asking for mercenaries. But I do require assistance in dealing with a particular... threat. One that your strength is uniquely suited to handle."
The Black Templar sneered, his fists still clenched, but Maximus—standing tall and steady—turned his gaze back to Satine, his posture relaxed but resolute.
"We are not here to be your weapons, Duchess," Maximus said, his voice like a rumble of thunder. "But if this threat you speak of is as dangerous as you claim, we will hear you out. But know this—we are not to be used as tools in your games."
Satine nodded, understanding the fine line she needed to walk. These Astartes were proud, and their honor was not to be questioned. But the Death Watch had been growing stronger, and she needed their help—no matter how much pride it cost her to ask.
"I speak of the Death Watch," she said, her voice steady. "They've been making moves within my city, undermining my authority. I need them dealt with, but they are too powerful for my forces alone at this time. That is why I propose a trade."
The room was silent for a moment, the air thick with anticipation. Satine could see the change in the Astartes' demeanor, the shift from cold aggression to careful attention. Maximus glanced at his brothers, then back to her.
"Continue." he said, his tone not dismissive, but cautious.
"The Death Watch is not just an enemy; they are a cancer in the very heart of my world. I need something stronger to deal with them. I need someone who understands power, strength, and what it takes to eliminate a threat like this for good."
The Black Templar growled low in his throat, but it was the Salamander who spoke up for the first time, his voice quiet but sharp.
"The Death Watch is no simple foe," he said, his gaze never leaving Satine. "But if what you say is true, they will need to be eradicated. And we may be able to help."
Satine nodded slowly, her heart racing, but her face calm and composed. "I can offer you Beskar, the metal you seek. In exchange for your help, it is yours. Enough to make your armor, or whatever it is you desire."
Satine met his gaze with a quiet resolve. "I will ensure you get what you need. The Beskar will be yours, then I ask that you help rid my planet of the Death Watch."
Maximus's expression softened slightly, though he remained guarded.
"Very well, Duchess. We will consider this... arrangement. But understand this: we will deal with the Death Watch as we see fit."
Satine's gaze sharpened, the weight of his words sinking in. She had no illusions about the cost of working with these warriors. But the stakes were too high, and the Death Watch's growing influence too dangerous to ignore.
"I understand," she said, her voice unwavering. "And I will honor my part of the deal."
With that, the three Astartes stood silently, the weight of their decision hanging in the air. The room was still, as if the very walls held their breath, awaiting the next move in this delicate and dangerous game.
===Maximus===
The Beskar-infused armor would take time to be forged, and in the meantime, the Duchess offered the Astartes a place to stay while their armor was repaired.
"How do you think we should handle this threat, brother?" Raxor asked, his gaze focused on the bustling city below as he stood by one of the windows.
Maximus turned slightly toward the window beside him, his eyes scanning the city as well.
"While I was studying the Naboo archives before we departed, I came across something quite interesting," he said, his voice steady.
Sebastian, clad in most of his armor with only the damaged parts being worked on, turned his gaze toward Maximus, listening intently.
"The Death Watch are a people of honor and tradition," Maximus continued, his expression unreadable. "They value strength, and they desire a leader who leads from the front, not from a throne."
Sebastian understood the implication instantly, a slow grin creeping across his face.
"We could use a few foot soldiers," he said, the idea clicking into place.
Raxor's eyes gleamed with understanding. "Ah... a challenge of leadership," he murmured, turning to face Sebastian, the Black Templar.
"And who better than you, Sebastian?" Maximus added. "Make an example of the Death Watch leader. Show them what true strength is. Crush him under your boot, and ensure loyalty in the rest."
Sebastian stood silently for a moment, considering the suggestion. His grin widened as he turned his gaze to Maximus.
"A brutal but effective method," Sebastian said, his voice a low growl. "If they wish to follow strength, then I will show them the true meaning of it."
Maximus gave a small nod. "We'll give them a leader they can't ignore. A leader who doesn't just lead from a throne, but one who commands respect through action."
Raxor's hands tightened into fists, his voice a sharp whisper. "The Death Watch leader will break, and in his place, we'll have a loyal army."
Maximus turned to face them both fully, his gaze unwavering. "And once we break them, we ensure they understand that their allegiance to us is not a choice—it's a necessity."
===Unknown Mandalorian===
As the Mandalorian listened in on the conversation between the three Astartes, she couldn't help but smirk at the thought of the one known as the Black Templar challenging Pre Vizsla for leadership of the Death Watch. She knew the "secret weapon" Vizsla wielded, and rumors spoke of its power—stronger than the lightsabers of the Jedi themselves.
Unless these Astartes had crossed blades with a Jedi before, which, considering their prowess, might have been the case, they had no idea what they were up against. Even if they boasted armor comparable to Beskar, she seriously doubted the three hulking soldiers, no matter how powerful, could withstand the might of the Death Watch.
She had seen firsthand the kind of power the Death Watch wielded, and the Astartes' confidence seemed almost... misplaced.
From where she stood, hidden in the shadows outside the chamber, she could hear every word clearly thanks to the devices she had placed in the room. She knew the Death Watch would never submit to someone who didn't prove themselves on the battlefield, not even to these warriors. Leadership among the Death Watch was earned with blood and strength, not through political maneuvering.
She couldn't help but feel a cold sense of satisfaction. If the Black Templar really intended to face Pre Vizsla, he was walking right into the heart of a storm he couldn't possibly understand.
===
If you enjoyed this chapter, maybe consider leaving me with a couple of your power stones? I promise I'll take good care of them:)