Emperor Chelido Raku Vegelteris III stood, gazing over the perpetual orange sky of his homeworld. Battle raged high above him. The terrible Beast of Izar now loomed above, the insidious biomechanical monstrosity subverting his own crews even as they struggled to destroy the invaders.
The Emperor knew what happened to the worlds taken by the Izar Self. Every bit of biomass subverted, every piece of technology taken into the maw of the horrible entity that his own decision had released on the Galaxy.
And, even as the cacophonous precipitation of burning wreckage plummeted through the atmosphere high above him, and black rain thundered off of the palace spire, he was angered. Angry that all of his work was now coming to nothing. The great subverter had taken over all of Kaus Median space, save for the southwest quadrant. It too would soon fall.
Argh! And to imagine that the battlefleets conquering Aiken had once been his! It had been his own living, breathing troops who suffered the first casualties in the war against the Eternal Crusade. Oh, had they not been so foolish, so trapped in their views- their actions only weakened the Imperial Commonwealth, providing the lethal distraction that allowed the Infection to reach critical mass and scour their civilization from the Galaxy.
The Insectoid Figure, clad in the elabourate transparent plastic garb granted by his position, looked downwards, and disappeared from his viewing spire. He would fight, but he would not surrender his life meaninglessly. Chelido Raku Vegelteris III would fight on.
Kaus Media was lost.