Sitting quietly in one of the rear seats of the Skipray Blastboat, Kir Kanos spoke quietly to the current pilot of the craft, Kile Hannad. The volume of his voice belied the fire within him, and the stern tone with which he spoke the words.

"Time to entry?"

'Five minutes.'

No acknowledgement was needed between the two. The bond between all true guardsman was stronger than duracrete, and more enduring than a star- but especially strong between these two. Even after the Emperor's death, they continued doing his work; serving him, if only his memory.

And this was the next task.

The denziens of the planet sprawling out below had blasphemed the glorious Empire, and it's Ruler in a way that could not be overstated. It was an unpresedented slap in the face to all those who believed in the Ruler of the New Order's vision for the galaxy.

But the time to dwell on such things was not now. Now was a time to prepare for tasks which lay ahead.

Which lay on Fondor.

Sovereign Protectors - the absolute best of the best. Trained for years; shedding blood, sweat, and lives in service of an Emperor and his Empire. Dedicating their lives to the Master Palpatine's service; the Empire's finest Warmasters were in a class of their own.

Now was no different than then; some needed to be reminded of that.

"Closing."

No response was needed. With that single word, a pair of twin crimson helms rise and fall once more upon two pairs of massive shoulders. Mirror images: these, two of the finest Warmasters, loyal to the Empire until death.

Effective, lethal, and devout to serve. The Skipray began it's approach of Fondor, bringing death one step closer to the deserters upon it...

Clunk, clank.

The ship set down.

Whine...

The ramp lowered.

Clack.

And set down. Kir stood slowly, nodding towards Kile as he did the same. Walking slowly from the ship, a smell immediately assaulted his helmet. Filtered immediately out, but analyzed, a small subtext appeared within the red helm-

High carbon dioxide, carbon monoxide content in air. Analysis- smoke. Ionized durasteel, transparisteel, wood atoms.

Knowing Kile would have recieved a similar analysis, he nodded to him.

"Our bretheren began to clense this place. We will finish it."

He paused, scanning the area.

"The Skipray's planetary scan plotted the new Freedom Guard-"

Kir choked out those words, sickened by them, and what they stood for.

"-base due north. Come."

Silent footfalls moving across the destroyed terrain. A pair of crimson tyrants move towards another prey.

The swift down-stroke of a mandilorian alloy weapon, ends the suffering of one sifting through the rubble blindly. Screaming for his life to end, and so it did.

Without a step lost, the twin bringers of Justice move swiftly through the ash and rubble. A single thought remains.

Loyalty Never Dies.