Battle of the Core

The silver lined planet shone like a beacon throughout the Galaxy, revealing the splendour and glory of the Republic and the Core in its entirety. It's name reached out towards the farthest stretches of space; inspiring hope in some, while greed and loathing inspired others. The planet had once been a symbol of a unified and peaceful era—and Galaxy. It was a sincere shame that the Republic had collapsed.

Erik Scrimshaw couldn't care less. He continued to look out at the planet and the massive fleet that orbited the city-planet. The fools, he thought, shaking his head in mock pity, I cannot wait until Carth brings his fleet to bear on mine. I shall wipe him and the vestiges of the pitiful Republic away—and a new era shall come: the Sith.

He chuckled to himself, coughing softly as his voice rumbled hoarsely. Instinctively, his hand went to his throat, massaging it softly, remembering the gritty pain he had endured at the hands of the vile silver-haired hag Traya. Stupid wench, she'll pay for this. Perhaps during the soon-to-be battle I shall make a slight miscalculation and destroy her precious Throne room. His eyes twinkled with the thought as he ran his other hand through his short-cropped hair.

Accidents have been known to happen.

"Sir," one of his lieutenants called out, waking the General from his trance.

He smoothed his uniform and looked at the officer, slightly chagrined, "what?"

The officer swallowed audibly—the room had been silent, save for the minute beeps and switches—and replied, "we've just received an incoming transmission. 'Operation Emancipation' is a go."

It was Erik's turn to swallow audibly, as his saliva coursed roughly down his rather sensitive gullet. "Fine," he replied stiffly. "Have our fighters prepare to launch."

The officer squared her shoulders and replied, "yes sir."

Another officer looked at the General, asking, "sir, I have several transmissions from the Sojourn, asking us to relay our commission to the Coruscant Assignment."

"Maintain silence," Erik replied. They'll look at us like a confused kinrath pup—only to come eye-to-eye with the end of a barrel. And I've got the trigger, he thought haughtily. He looked at another officer—the one who had informed him of Traya's transmission. "Order our fleet to move in a picket position—but do not let the Republic catch wind of our plan. Stand by all heavy cruisers to target the planetary shields and await orders. Ensure our carriers and our picket cruisers stand by, awaiting the destruction of the planetary shield pylons and skyhooks."

"Affirmative sir," the officer replied crisply.

"We'll ensnare their fighters and we'll begin to fire our heavy batteries into the planetary surface shortly before we engage the other Republic. What is the Mistress' ETA?"

"Fifteen minutes Standard, sir."

"Good," Erik mumbled, turning back to face the planetary surface. Watch it all burn down, just like Telos. I wonder if Carth would like to relive his moments on Telos—it could prove most amusing. He sighed. Very well, I guess there is no time like the present. "Fire."


"Has there been any reply yet?" Carth asked the officer, as he paced the bridge, uncomfortably.

"Not yet, sir," the officer replied.

I don't like the feel of this, he thought. Forn has stopped the Sith assault on the Temple and now my own troops are beginning to turn on me. What in the blazes is going on? He gritted his teeth, and stared out at the massive, concentrated group that seemed awfully close towards the planet's shield pylons.

"Sir," the same officer called out, a young Zabrak officer.

He furrowed his greying brow. "What is it?"

"There is a list of traitors working with the Sith—one of your Generals is with them!"

Carth's eyes opened widely, as his spine tingled and he felt cold. "Which one?"

"General Scrimshaw!"

Oh no. He looked at the officer. "Order the fleet to converge! Launch all fighters and inform Scrimshaw's battle group to stand down!"

It was too late.

As he spoke, several slow moving transports that passed along the glittering planet's atmosphere detonated in a brilliant array of yellow fireballs, as the heavy cruisers unleashed a wave of emerald, scarlet and sapphire destruction on the planetary shields and defences that surrounded them.

Carth saw thousands of dark specks flutter away from the cruisers, as they unleashed their own twin scarlet lances of energy.

They were small, agile, and sleek and carried a bulbous canopy, as their dark solar panels appeared like metallic bird-of-prey wings of sheer destruction.

"Sith fighters," someone whispered.

Carth felt the cold feeling around his spine consume his stomach, as he watched another Telos begin. "Oh no." On instinct, he turned around and screamed, "battle alert!"

Klaxons began to roar to life, as the bridge became darkened in flashing red glows.

"Launch all fighters and get all of our task forces to engage those vessels!" He turned around and looked around as the crew moved about, taking his orders crisply. This is not going to get better, he thought.

The Sith would arrive in only five more minutes.

The Jedi had been battered and broken.

The Republic had dissolved and sedition had begun.

The Battle of the Core had begun.