General Grievous was sure taking the Core would be quite simple.

The weak-minded simpletons of the Republic were so sure the CIS would never attempt such a bold move into the Core Worlds, and therein lay their downfall.

By lulling themselves into a false security like they did, not only would they not be suspecting an attack, they would be unprepared for it.

Oh sure, the Chancellor's Office would sent fleets and fleets of warships out to protect the outlying Core Worlds from invasion, but no one really believed the Confederacy had the guts to initiate one.

They were dead wrong.

If Grievous could smile, he would. He folded his metal hands behind his back instead, and stood to his full two-point-one meter height and looked out the bridge of his flagship at the stars, as if daring the Republic to make a move.

He'd make them pay for that terrible loss at Nadiem. He'd make them pay for everything.

"General," came the metallic voice of a droid stationed at Sensors, "The First Fleet has confirmed that all elements of their forces have checked in, and they are ready to jump to initiate lightspeed at your order."

"Order Commander Lot he may jump when ready."

The droid relayed the order, and just like that, the Fall of Duro was set in motion.

It was a simple plan, really. The combined forces of the First and Third Fleets of the Confederate Navy would initiate a pincer-squeeze tactic, trapping the planet and its forces in the cross-hairs of the armada.

The First Fleet would appear on the far side of the planet from Yag'Dhul side, while the Third fleet would come in from the Thyferra side, where Grievous and his forces was stationed now.

Then, the plan of attack would be to slowly merge the fleets, all the while destroying any Republic opposition caught in the middle.

Operation Durge's Lance, he'd named the op. It began the Confederacy's push into the Core, and the name was in honor of the bounty hunter Durge and the part he'd played in the Battle of Muunilist.

"How have the initial stages of the operation gone planet-side?" he asked an intelligence agent. The Devaronian smiled, making his already devilish appearance look positively menacing. "Our operatives have played the Trehalt Allegiance into our hand, General. The fool who leads them has been lead to believe that giving over their defenses to the Republic would be a most unwise decision indeed."

"They attacked the Rotunda, then?"

"Oh yes, sir. Nearly a thousand clones were slaughtered, and any suspicions that Republic may have had about an external threat from the CIS has now been turned inwards, and the forces there have been thrown into chaos."

"Excellent," Grievous intoned. "Count Dooku will be most pleased. Report to him at once."

The Devaronian nodded, and Grievous dismissed him.

He strode to his command chair. "Order the Defiant and the Inherent to come up on the Hand's flank."

The reason for that was that the two other Providence-class destroyers were the only ships large enough to provide efficient cover-fire for the Invisible Hand, Grievous' flagship, a much larger and heavily modified Providence destroyer.

The comm officer relayed the order, and the other ships began to fall into position. "Any other orders for the rest of the fleet, General?"

He thought a moment. They would have to come out of lightspeed at least once along the way at a via point to Duro, for very few hyperspace lanes were direct routes from one point to another, and in order to reposition the Third Fleet—the elements which Grievous commanded here at Thyferra—into a better offense force.

"No. Bring the ship about," he ordered instead. "Send out a communique to the fleet, tell them to begin forming up for lightspeed. We jump to hyperspace in two hours."

Grievous paused a moment as he felt his heart beating inside his armored chest, a small thing he did every time he needed focus or calm. It assured him that a small part of him was still organic, still alive, and still part of the fearsome warrior he used to be before the accident that put him in this cursed robotic replacement.

Ready or not, Duro, here we come.

In all honesty, he actually hated the Duros species on a whole. The high-and-mighty Neimoidian off-shoots were always claiming their species discovered space-travel before all other species, as if that entitled them to something.

A good slamming, perhaps.

Yes, a good orbital slamming indeed.