The Dominion, a beacon of hope for those of the galaxy's more radical old guard, lighting the way to a path of salvation despite their foes who wish to destroy them, is now gone.
It had been a normal solar rotation for the dominion's small trio of home systems, and vast fleets. Then word started coming in across the entire fleet, comms chatter blowing up.
Taros Was Gone.
Their almighty beacon of hope and salvation, Taros the Almighty, even the system it resided in, Gelos Mal: Was utterly gone without a trace. Nobody saw it happen. There is no debris. The system is just missing from its place in the galaxy never to be found.
In the first moments there is nothing but panic, Admirals and nobles inquiring about finding their home. Slowly, it all devolved. Admirals and Nobles of the great Noble houses become warlords as the Realm divvies itself into pieces, the pheonix shattered, never to rise again...
The Realm's small territory proves not enough for the cliques of warlords formed from once admirals and captains, or fallen nobles who have denounced their great houses, blaming them for the loss of the Almighty Taros. They spread across the local group of their galaxy like a scourge, once mildly radicals shifted into full on extremism by their total loss of their home and people, subjugating once neutral, sometimes even primitive worlds with their warfleets and enslaving populations to bend at their own whim.
But not all were like that. In the midst of the chaos, some warlords were proven to be less radical than some others, and instead led their fleets to peacefully find primitive worlds and help bring them up into the galactic scene, forming democracies and republics under their overarching hand. Maybe these ones are more susceptible to diplomacy...
On the other hand, some admirals simply went around burning worlds for their pleasure, being so radical and extremist as to even push away the once allies of the Realm, the Germans. They conquer and take what they please from the helpless primitives; slaves, food, supplies; then pull back and turn the primitive cities to slag, before moving on to the next. Surely they become priority targets of the great Union of so-called Judgement, no?
The Dominion is shattered, broken to its very core with no hope of recovery. Nothing can save the dominion, but the individual warlords could come to heed, brought to their knees or lifted up onto their feet. Surely some shall intervene in the vast conflicts...
High orbit of Neu-Paupa-Neu-Guinea
Fleet of Vyric Kellos, The First Warlord and Head of House Kellos:
He stood at the helm of his ship, looking down onto his world. The Great Admiral of which had been tasked with defending this world swore his allegiance to the House of Kellos, and thus Vyric himself, who became the first true warlord in the first moments of the shattering. When Taros was gone he knew the Realm would collapse, thus he quickly siezed the world and its orbiting facilities, but he wasnt quick enough to sieze all the worlds in the system, one of the fallen members of his house took the outer worlds, while he was stuck to the core.
For now, they had an uneasy ceasefire, but he knew that wouldnt last.
Having siezed the only combat-capable dreadnought that had once been in possession of the Dominion, none dared challenge him, for now. His warfleet watched over the flourishing world, which had been mostly unaffected aside from the loss of Taros causing mass panic in the first few days. Now, after his rule had taken an iron grip on the planet, the riots had all but died down and the people on the growing colony world calmed themselves for the most part.
In the beginning, he had convinced a large swath of his house and multiple captains alongside Admiral Vylan to join his side, bringing more under his grasp. As for his plans for the future..?
Firstly, the Union of Judgement is the biggest threat to him, being a pseudo-dictator over his small portion of the system, but for now they should leave him be, so his biggest concern is building up a defense and a fleet, and hopefully subjugating his fallen kin in the outer edges of the system later on. But thats all for a later day, for now, he must rest. He steps away from the bridge of the 'Blade of the Phoenix', the Dreadnought he had brought under his command, and retires to his chambers as the sun dissapears behind the colony world in a showing display of light, and then none at all...
Planet of La'vour
Fleet of Warlord Rhynol
He had siezed power over two additional fleets by now, and had begun conquering this primitive world. Even now, he looks down upon the world as explosions rock the surface, his armed forces, while small, getting the job done against the primitives who had not even entered their information age yet. His bridge was dark, with nothing but a deep red light as he sits at the helm, drinking a glass of wine as his fleets sit in orbit of the world, transports passing back and forth freely, the world almost fully taken in a matter of hours.
He laughed to himself, looking down on the world, and then to the cameras showing an overhead view of major battles from small spotting drone's points of view. This had been far too easy. He would have a population to bend and break to his will to build his new empire.
Irius System
Fleet of Warlord Eryan Vos
All had gone well, so far. He had been to multiple diplomatic meetings with these primitives he had been working to uplift into the stars to forge himself an ally, and also had to coordinate the colonization of a new planet with those primitives to help stop their world's rampant overpopulation, so he had been very tired. Unlike most of his kin, he had decided to take a more diplomatic approach to the situation at hand. He would build this primitive alien race up into an interstellar nation and forge himself an ally for the years to come. Amongst many others, his beliefs in democracy had mostly gone unheard, and he had given up on displaying them to his kin in the Noble House of Vos long ago.
But this was different. He could finally build the republic he dreamed of and give safe haven to his people who had been oppressed for so long. Those who fled Neu Paupa Neu Guinea and the other ex-dominion colonies mostly came to him where he let them begin the colonization he had been coordinating with the aliens onto the other world in their system.
He was tired though, so he must rest for tomorrow when bigger things may come.
Planet of Yk'thalus
Fleet of Warlord Raunveik
He laughed to himself. He is unstoppable, he thinks to himself, reveling in the glorious vision on his cameras and in his bridge's window as the xeno world burns. His ship shakes violently as the main guns continue firing upon the world, in synchronization with those across his fleet. He had invaded this world, pillaged it for supplies and women, stole the men as slaves, then retreated, leaving the rest to burn under the searing light of his fleet's weaponry.
And to his crazed, twisted mind: It was glorious. More beautiful than any sight he had ever seen under the dominion's banner. The puny weaklings held him back, he tells himself. They promised him glorious combat but had his fleet on duty to defend some backwater upstart colony of which he burned to the ground as soon as the dominion collapsed.
This was his calling.
Genocide.
Many warlords have stuck their claims in the corner of the galaxy, sending an unintentional beacon to the Union of Judgement, who by now have learned that the dominion's capital planet that they had searched for so vigilantly had simply dissapeared without a trace under everyone's noses, let alone theirs. Many captains out on missions became their own pseudo-warlords and used their mission objectives to further their own goals in one way or another
The Phoneix that rose is now fallen
And the galaxy must face the consequences.