The great Jumpship hung above No'aar like a silent titan, its vast bulk casting a long shadow across the planet's upper atmosphere. Within its cavernous hangar bays, klaxons sounded in measured intervals as House Hawthorne's private fleet prepared to deploy. Magnetic clamps disengaged one by one, releasing vessels into the void with controlled precision. Tobias watched from the observation gallery as the operation unfolded, each movement rehearsed and exact.
Four Lunar-Class Battleships emerged first, their armored hulls gleaming beneath the distant sun. They were massive constructs of duralloy and void-hardened plating, bristling with turret emplacements and sensor arrays. Their engines flared to life in restrained bursts, guiding them into a wide defensive formation. Behind them followed eight Victory-Class Destroyers, smaller and leaner, their silhouettes sharp and predatory.
The Victory-class ships moved with a speed that belied their firepower. Their hulls were angular, optimized for maneuverability and rapid response, and Tobias could see their formation shifting subtly as they scanned for threats. These vessels had earned their reputation during the recent war, striking swiftly and vanishing before an enemy could respond. Seeing them now, poised above No'aar, Tobias felt a quiet confidence take root.
Twenty troop transports detached last, their bulbous forms unglamorous but essential. Each carried hundreds of soldiers, armored vehicles, and support equipment needed to establish a planetary foothold. Escorting them closely, the destroyers adjusted their vectors, forming protective screens. The entire fleet began its descent toward No'aar's orbit in flawless synchronization.
As the ships settled into high orbit, No'aar revealed itself in greater detail. Endless oceans stretched beneath swirling cloud cover, broken only by the faint outline of a single continent. Sunlight fractured across the waves, creating shifting mosaics of blue and silver. Storm systems coiled like living things, their scale dwarfing even the largest Imperial vessels.
Within the flagship, final preparations were underway for planetary descent. A noble shuttle was brought to readiness, its hull polished to ceremonial perfection and marked with the sigil of House Hawthorne. Tobias stood beside his family within the shuttle bay, surrounded by honor guards and senior retainers. The air thrummed with restrained energy, anticipation thick as the bay doors sealed.
Duke Archimedes took his place at the front of the shuttle's cabin, his expression resolute. Duchess Satele sat opposite him, composed and watchful, her hands folded neatly in her lap. Tobias remained standing until the final moment, then secured himself beside his sisters as protocol demanded. Lady Jessica peered through the viewport with fascination, while Lady Amber clutched her seat's armrests with quiet determination.
The shuttle disengaged with a low tremor, gliding free of the flagship and angling toward the planet below. Atmospheric entry was smooth, the vessel's shields flaring briefly as they cut through cloud layers dense with moisture. Tobias felt the subtle shift in gravity as No'aar claimed them, heavier than Castellan but not uncomfortably so. Outside, the sky deepened to a rich cobalt, streaked with lightning far in the distance.
The capital city came into view as the shuttle descended further. It was built along the edge of the continent, a blend of elegant spires and reinforced platforms anchored into bedrock beneath the sea. Wide harbors extended into the ocean, designed to accommodate submersible traffic and industrial barges. The city appeared orderly, almost pristine, yet Tobias sensed an underlying tension that no architecture could hide.
The shuttle touched down on a reinforced landing pad within the palace complex. As the ramp lowered, warm, salt-laden air rushed inside, carrying the scent of the ocean and distant machinery. Duke Archimedes was the first to disembark, followed closely by Duchess Satele and the children. The honor guard fanned out immediately, forming a protective perimeter with practiced efficiency.
Beyond the palace grounds, the full scale of House Hawthorne's deployment became apparent. Troop transports descended in steady waves, landing at designated zones across the city's outskirts. Ramps dropped, and soldiers poured forth in disciplined formations, their armor reflecting the muted daylight. Within hours, ten thousand troops established checkpoints, command posts, and defensive lines throughout the capital.
The soldiers of House Hawthorne moved with calm assurance, their training evident in every motion. Infantry legions secured key infrastructure, from communication hubs to power stations. Engineering teams followed close behind, assessing structural integrity and restoring neglected systems. The city's inhabitants watched from windows and balconies, their reactions a mixture of hope, fear, and wary curiosity.
Retainers and technical specialists were dispatched to inspect the Dust mining facilities left behind by House Mordred. Tobias accompanied his father briefly as they toured a decommissioned control center near the shoreline. Consoles flickered weakly, their systems poorly shut down, data logs incomplete or deliberately corrupted. It was clear that House Mordred had departed in haste, or perhaps with calculated negligence.
Far offshore, massive drilling platforms rose from the sea like iron islands. Some were inactive, their lights extinguished and their machinery silent. Others still hummed faintly, automated systems continuing their work in eerie isolation. Tobias felt a chill as he considered how many lives had been spent to keep those machines running.
As evening settled over the capital, the fleet maintained its vigilant orbit above. Battleships adjusted their positions to counter shifting weather patterns, while destroyers conducted continuous patrols. No hostile contacts were detected, yet no one relaxed their guard. House Mordred's absence felt deliberate, like the pause before a drawn breath.
From the palace balcony, Tobias gazed out over the darkening ocean. Bioluminescent currents traced ghostly patterns beneath the waves, hinting at life far below the surface. He felt the familiar stir of prescience, a sense that unseen eyes were watching, waiting. No'aar had accepted their arrival, but it had not yet revealed its true cost.
Behind him, the palace lights flickered on, illuminating halls that would soon echo with decisions and conflict. House Hawthorne had descended upon the ocean world with strength and honor, just as the Emperor commanded. Tobias knew this was only the beginning. The real test of No'aar was still to come.