Days turned into nights and nights into days. And he waited along with every other human on the hellish planet for the enemy to attack. What were they waiting for? A certain bloodlust had overcome him. They had won in the first round, but that would not happen again. This sickly world wouldn’t die. Not on his watch.
He had spent the time learning all about the planet’s defenses, its troop numbers, and their location. There were extensive tunnels underneath the planet due to the mining. He had many of them booby-trapped. A major plus was that many of the commanders had fought previously for the emperor against a planet nearby where blasphemy had taken hold. The Emperor’s divinity had been questioned. They had all been slaughtered. A fitting end to treachery.
Lazarus, one of the loyal troopers who saved him previously rushed into his room panting in the noxious gasses that constituted the air on the planet.
“They are entering into orbit,” he sputtered.
“Finally,” Timothy replied turning his wheelchair and heading to the control center down the corridor.
“Tell the Emperor’s Representative that now is the time to address the planet.”
“He has left the planet,” Lazarus replied.
The wheelchair came to an abrupt halt.
“What?”
“He reportedly left a few hours ago. He said it was on urgent business of the Emperor.”
Timothy’s heart quickened, his hands clenched, “I will do it myself so.”
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