Haunting Chorus: The Battle for Coruscant

[Kit]

((OOC; Right, first off, I’m sorry about dictating what happens to you guys a little bit, and also the fleet size is a bit iffy, but I’m doing my best here, considering the fact that I’ve never done this battle thing before. Well, not from a commanding level anyhow. Also, feel free to be more specific about exactly what you have here with us. I’ll do my best to be vague.))

The city world of Coruscant, the heart and soul of the Galactic Republic for hundreds, thousands of years. It’s entire surfaced covered in towering, gleaming buildings. It’s artificial beauty as alluring as anything nature could offer. It had always been a peaceful world, safe and relatively quiet. The streets of Coruscant had always been safe and as you walked them, it was as if a benevolent force watched over and protected you.

At least, it had been. Until the Sith invaded.

Now, Coruscant was a dark and wretched parody of it’s former self. There was nothing beautiful about the towering spires that clawed the sky from atop the Imperial palace built in Darth Nefarius’ name. There was nothing peaceful about the streets that were patrolled by soldiers and Sith Knights. No-one felt safe or content anymore.

The gleaming white perfection of the one time galactic hub was now blackened and twisted. Rome had not only fallen. It was aflame, and crying out to be saved.

And for every man, woman or child that rose against the oppressive and corrupt Sith, ten more betrayed them, saving their own skins at the price of their friends, their family and the people they loved…

And no-one came to the rescue. No timely intervention plucked the ravaged world from the jaws of the Sith.

No-one had come to this worlds aid. Not yet anyway.

***

Rogal Natharn, a man who as far as he was concerned, was nothing special. He was no legendary leader, or astounding general. He might be able to command a fleet, but not in a real war.

No, he was just one man. Which was why the other’s around him were so important. They were what made him strong. The hundreds of men and women that made what they were doing here even possible. Loyal to the core and unflinching in their duty.

They were only human, or wookie or any number of other species, but they were prime examples of their kind, each and every one of them, and Rogal was proud to know them, proud to have served alongside such stellar examples of courage and nobility.

But there were seven that stood out above even the others. Seven who were more crucial than any other factor in the entire plan.

The first of these, stood at Rogal’s right side was a blind man. Just taller than he, the blind man was swathed in dark colours, with a bandage covering his hideously scarred eyes. Hauron Kisaragi was Rogal’s best friend, and would fight at his side till the very end.

Further away, and sat at a large table was a man that Rogal could only describe as a pirate. Honourable, but deadly. This one draped in dark scarlet, with a long flowing cape, and a golden claw. He was an oddity, but another man with steel for a backbone. Vàli Valtiere was his name, and though Rogal thought there was something odd about that hip-flask, he trusted him deeply.

The others were all nearby, somewhere on the ship, though Rogal knew not where. Undoubtedly some were together, Dak Grenlar and Skyu Lon, probably were. The two were companions of old, hailing from the same planet. One a monk, and the other a soldier, both were powerful figures. Rogal was certainly glad both fought on his side. Though he and Dak were not exactly best friends, he would trust Skyu with his life and had in the past. He only hoped they felt the same way.

And finally, the last three. Martien Delphey, Smailliw Nollaf and Deven Jarmain were all member of the mysterious Omega Cell, an organization that fought a secret war against the Sith. All three were just as dedicated to fighting the Sith as he was, if not more, and that alone made them powerful. However, that’s not to say that they lacked other strength. Each of the three was a valuable addition to a considerable force.

There were others that were meant to be here, but had yet to show up. Rogal was disappointed, as they were just as important as the rest. Quill Arridus and Rejik Nupaq were to bring a large force, and their own considerable skills, and Rogal was nervous about the fact they had not turned up. Either they had lost interest, which he doubted, they had turned on the cause, which he again doubted or… they had met their end.

Not something he wished to dwell upon.

Tapping the simple earpiece that sat firmly on his head, he spoke firmly and slowly, so as not to betray the nerves that he could barely keep from causing his hands to shake.

“All personnel to your stations! Jump to hyperspace in forty five minutes, repeat, forty five. So, to our esteemed guests, unless you want to stay aboard or want to risk a shuttle jump afterward, you’ll want to think about returning to your ships.”


***

The Behemoth hung in space, in the special equivalent of the middle of nowhere. It was Rogal’s trump card, easily capable of fighting several ships alone and living to tell the tale. It was the only ship Rogal had brought to the party, but unusually for it, it was not alone.

Around it, for a good distance were other ships. Huge ships, and smaller ships. All preparing for what could be considered the riskiest move in a very long time. Risky was a word that would always go hand in hand with a fight, but if all went well, this would be a simple fight indeed.

Rogal was unsure of how many ships had gathered here, but the deadline he had given the leaders to gather their forces and arrive was nearing, less than an hour away now, though a sizeable force had mustered.

A countdown timer and co-ordinates had been broadcast to every commanding officer on every ship, and had duly been passed down to the officer in charge of the navigation station in most cases. The timing needed to be right and while perfect would be brilliant, Rogal would settle for right.

This would not be a simple exercise, that much was assured, and every single man, woman and alien knew that they could be headed for the end.

And as every ship ran their final checks and diagnostics, and every weapon was readied then cooled down once more, the timer steadily ticked away. Only thirty six minutes left.

Thirty six minutes until they attacked Coruscant. Thirty six minutes until the Sith received the rudest wake up call in history.

((Right, OOC again. At this point, I’d like my guys to post once each, and then we’ll go at my discretion. Again, I’d like to ask each of you to specify how many ships you’ve got, and that kind of thing. Also, you could include troop numbers, though I don’t think they’re going to count for as much as the ships are…))

 

[Dexington]

ooc: Dak's bringing along his 3 capital ships and all the fighters that come with them. Also a legion of troops inside each capital ship, numerous drop ships and a few heavy gunships as support.

Skyu, Dak and Aras were walking together through the corridors of the Behemoth, where they had been living for what had seemed like a year. A year of waiting. The attack they had been planning for so long, yet it had only just gotten off the ground. Rejik, however, seemed to have backed out. A shame, as he had argueably the largest fighting force out of any of them. There was still confidence though. The group of rebels that they had assembled were all great in their own ways and the three here in this hall were no different.

Skyu had tremendous ability with the force. Some say that it is unmatched, that not a being in the known galaxy could top his prowess with the force. The one thing Skyu wished was for a confrontation with the Dark Lord to prove to those people that they were right. He wanted a challenge.

Dak was a leader, and like many leaders, was hard to be killed. He had encountered Mandalore in the past and lived through it. He had been in many fire fights and lived through it. With the Vaskar, he had been through battles on Kashyyyk, amongst others and came out victorious. He was a leader and a survivor.

Aras was the man behind the mask. The strategist who made everything happen. He screened the people coming into the Vaskar and made up the core of their army. He commanded them from space, as the General.

They stopped walking as a message came over the comm. Go back to your own ships, entering hyperspace in 45 minutes. Skyu immediately spoke to Rogal through the force.

"Rogal, be sure that we do not go too close to Coruscant. We must stick to the plan. The air does not come first."

 

[Will]

Hauron stood, looking to the blade in his hands. He had forged this with his own hands when he had gone on his journey. It was more true to him than his old lightsabre, given to an incompetant fool of a Sith. He preferred a good old fashioned blade anyway. And now, he, this blade, and his oldest and only friend were to take the fight to the Sith, to which they had belonged. He smiled at the thought. He would finally pay them back. ''I shall stand beside you here, Rogal. I have no mighty battleship, and i would rather make this journey at your side.''

* * *​

Vàli Valtiere got up from his table, and faced Rogal. ''See you on the other side.'' He bowed with a flourish, and, with a sweep of his dark red cape, swept from the room. He bared his teeth in a smile. This was it. The fight the fight that would go down in history. Vàli Valtiere would be no petty pirate. He would be remembered as one of the heroes of coruscant. He stepped onto his ship, The Bird of Hermes, flying to the mightier ship, dwarfing many around it, save the behemoth itself: The Crimson Blade. A marvel of engineering, captained by one of the most shrewd naval commanders in history: Captain Heinrich Von Poppleopacus. He may have an odd name, but his tactical genius rivaled Jedi battle meditation. He smiled as he stood onto deck, his path flanked by black armoured men wearing silver skull shaped helmets. All had vicious looking cellular disruptor rifles, and armbands showing a silver skull with a red shadow. They were ready. Vàli stepped onto the bridge. ''Let's do this.'' He muttered as co-ordinates were keyed in.​

 

[Cyril Khan]

War was a big thing to handle. Omega Cell had been holding a covert one for years against the Sith, blaming their attacks on pirates and other known organizations. The covert organization made the exchange look silly, and yet due to their secretive ways, no one knew about it.

Coruscant was one of the most risky places to test. Omega Cell had done their fair share of raids on it; the jobs were mostly hijackings and minor guerrilla assaults. However, the covert faction was about to become involved greater than the ever had before. One thing must remain the same; Omega Cell must remain unknown.

The call came to return to ships. Smailliw Nollaf, the leader of Omega Cell made his leave to his flagship Hotspur. The vessel was a heave assault cruiser loaded with the most up-to-date equipment available on the black market. The hull was black as night giving a natural camouflage against the intense darkness of space.

Thus followed a portion of the Omega Cell fleet. Smailliw favored small ship tactics; the fleet consisted of smaller ships, but all were much more deadly than any of their type. Like their powerful leading vessel, each ship was painted midnight black to stay invisible against the human eye. They numbers in the high twenties.

Numerous bulk freighters with powerful shields were among the fleet. Within each stood Omega Cell's greatest weapons, the Omega Cell commandos and urban fighters. Minor artillery units and armors were held in the large troopships. Omega Cell had their chemical factories running to the maximum; the armies they were to deploy were armed with the deadly chemicals of unique origin. The greatest was the Blood Phosphorus, which was prepared to melt through metal in seconds and vaporize flesh.

Martien Delphey took his leave to the head troopship. He was to lead the first assault onto the ground. No single commando matched his skill in warfare, and he was ready to show the Sith his true potential. His sidearm was ready; he held multiple extra clips for his twenty shop projectile action; the high powered energy action was set for prolonged use. He also carried grenades holding various chemicals.

Deven Jarmain exited silently to his own personal fighter. He was the acting leader of an ally of Omega Cell: the Order of Rage. The Order was only a nomadic Force sensitive group that followed the philosophy of balance in the Force. Each member used as much light as dark powers, and the members of high ranking were often masters of both sides. The nomadic faction had been organized to assist on the ground battle. Deven did not fear the members’ safety. Each member rivaled any Jedi or Sith skill. They only followed a different philosophy. He himself was more of a rival to anyone in his path. He was about to reveal himself to the Sith once more; no one lived who would remember him, minus some Jedi, but he had at one time been the Chose of the Sith. He now returned to end the evil he betrayed.

OOC: if you have any questions regarding Omega Cell weaponry, check out the faction thread or PM me.

 

[Kit]

((OOC; Right, I'm going to give y'all the chance to say a little bit more if you want to now. so yeah, this thread will be open after the jump, giving all those eager Sith types the chance to jump on in.))

Rogal nodded silently once in reply to the two men, his mind was focussed elsewhere, and he had heard what he needed and wanted to from them.

The countdown timer slowly ticked onwards as reports of ship status flowed into the command center of The Behemoth. One report that caught his attention amongst the various reports of reactor shakedown completion and system checks was one detailing the numbers of the ships.

As far as he could tell, he had two unclassifiable ships, around about 3-5 capitol ships and 20 or so smaller class of ships, each with compliments of troops and fighters.

He wanted to smile, but he knew that over confidence would only lead to a fall later on, and even as the thought struck him, he was struck by another's thought.

"Rogal, be sure that we do not go too close to Coruscant. We must stick to the plan. The air does not come first."

He was slightly puzzled by what the sage said. Perhaps he was too focussed on the numbers and hundreds of variations on strategy he had the ships computers running, and as such couldn't focus on what was being said, or maybe the sage was being deliberately ambiguous.

Quickly formulating the reply he wanted the Sage to hear, enquiring as to what exactly he had meant, he swiftly returned his attention to the numbers. From what he could see, a ground battle could prove heavily favourable. Then again, winning the ground was pointless if the air wasn't theirs. The sage's words began to make less and less sense to him.

He glanced at the timer, around nineteen minutes left and almost every single ship ready to move immediately. The Behemoth was still running exhaustive system checks however, and the dual reactor plants were still only eighty to ninety percent warmed up.

Luckily, for now at least, they had time on their side.

After the jump... the opposite would be true.

 

[Will]

Vàli sat ensconsed in his command throne, upon a raised dias. Before him, Captain Heinrich Von Poppleopacus issued orders for the two mighty railcannons to be charged. Behind him, four men stood, in the armour of Red shadows, but with white helms with a vertical blood red stripe running down through their left eyes, ending in line with their mouth. These were his squad. His most trusted men. He looked at the reports of troop numbers, and progress of his newest ship, the phantom's prize, a smaller vessel, about the size of a destroyer vessel. He grinned at the schematics. But... on to the battle that would soon come. Vàli checked his dropships and single man Terror insertion Pods (TIPs). Excellent. There was enough space for drops and insertions. He could place troopers anywhere to begin their psychological attacks. He had tailored weapons especially for this purpose. Radar chaff, jammers, holo-grenades, cellular disruptor rifles and distorters in external speakers of the helmets, imitating banshee wails. He loved that kind of war...

 

[Dexington]

*Skyu could tell that Rogal was having a hard time understanding what was being told to him. Apparently, all the planning they had done before hand had been for naught, if he had neglected to remember that the Vaskar's ground troops needed to land before the air assualt began. If the fleet was within sensor range, this task would be incredibly difficult.*

"If a fleet is within sensor range, even one single enemy ship, nobody will be able to land without considerable losses. Both myself and Dak are not known to the Sith, we will be able to land easily to coordinate with La Commedia. Once we cause confusion, your fleets start attacking."

*Skyu hoped that this would clear the air that suddenly appeared between the two generals. He, Dak and Aras then proceeded to take their shuttle back to Dak's capital ship and waited for the jump to hyperspace to commence.*

 

[Kit]

Tearing his eyes and his mind from the statistics and the readouts on the various screens before him, he finally understood, with a clearer explanation as to what Skyu had meant.

Perhaps if he hadn't understood that to start with he wasn't ready for command...? He shook his head. Now was definitely not the time for self doubt.

Of course... In that case, you'll find updated data for your jump.

Rogal tapped a brief sequence of keys, waited for the response to flash onto the screen, then a few more quick taps. A new countdown timer, and changed co-ordinates for Skyu's force appeared on-screen. The data would soon find itself aboard it's new home. Rogal briefly wondered how many men Skyu hoped to land before being discovered.

Skyu, how long do you want? I'm willing to give you an hour, and then the rest of the fleet will move in.

Two hours might be enough, or too much, but Rogal was leaving it to the sage to decide. He briefly considered sending The Crimson Blade along with the sage, to deliver it's compliment of terror troops. The benefits of having a horde of troops on planet would be large, but then again, having both the Blade and the Behemoth in one body would be a huge psychological weapon.

Turning his head slightly, he spoke normally, and quietly, addressing only one man.

Hauron, go the the Blade. I want you to be ready to launch with the first wave of troops. Understand?

The clock ticked down to eight minutes.

 

[Cyril Khan]

Martien, now aboard his appointed troopship quickly inspected his lead division of warriors. The initial wave was a mixture of Omega Cell’s great commandos. A squad of covert warriors would be present as well. The combination of stealth experts and weapons experts would be devastating upon landing.

Armored troopers worked on inspecting their weapons. Each carried a specific type for their martial role. The combination of all sorts of weapons and damage types would create a horrendous force for the Sith to stop. These troopers brandished unique weapons that would strike fear into all enemies perceiving their power.

* * *​

Deven entered his fighter and set into space. The nomadic warriors of the Order of Rage were scattered about the fleet. In space battle, they would appear to be no different than any other fighter pilot, but they would be devastatingly more dangerous. On ground, the mixture of light and dark would annihilate any foe. These Force warriors might have been few in number, but they are stronger than many that would enter their path.

* * *​

​

Smailliw stood within the bridge of his flagship, the Hotspur. He scanned his fleet through the view panels. The ships were near impossible for him to see, even though he knew exactly where they were. He chuckled at this fact; his ships might be smaller than most, but they were faster. Each ship was armed and pampered enough to challenge ships classed above them. Smalls knew Omega Cell could have invested in the larger ships, but size was not the issue; quality was the importance.

“Captain,” Smalls ordered the man standing next to him, “Alert the fleet. On exiting hyperspace, divert power to the sensor jamming devices. We want our enemies to think there are fewer of us than we really are.”

The strategist smiled. He new the Omega Cell jamming device would be more than enough to break any sensors from locating his ships. The midnight hulls would make the ships invisible to even the keenest eye. The only thing that worried him was that his fleet would also be undetectable by each other and ally ships. Also, the effects of the device would drain the power of the weapons to half. However, that would not be a problem, once battle began; once the use of covert tactics ended, the devices would not be necessary.

 

[Will]

Hauron bowed, leaving his friend with a handshake and a smile. ''See you planetside. I bet 400 credits i kill more.'' Hauron left, through the colossal blast doors of the Bridge. He liked his new red and white clothing. It was far less opressive than his previous wardrobe. He boarded his ship, and crossed to The Crimson Blade. Hauron stepped out, and made his way to the legendary pirate, Vàli Valtiere. He knew his role would be a leader, but he knew not what of. He had 8 minutes to learn everything. That left two minutes for accustomising himself with the great Nosferatu, he thought to himself with a wry smile.

 

[Brandon Rhea]

ADMIN: Click here for the number of forces for each faction.

 

[Sovereign]

Within the bowels of Coruscant, the General sat, brooding. It had nearly been a month since he had last received a message from the Emperor. Whether or not Provin had forsook the Sith and fled like Nefarius and Udun before him, he did not know. What he did know however, was that an attack on Coruscant was imminent. Reports from all over the Galaxy indicated that large groups of unidentified ships were massing. Republic vessels, of course. As such, all necessary precautions had been taken. Troops were on high alert, bunkers and all sorts of entrenchments had been placed stragically all over the planet. The General had even ordered heavy artillery from the neighboring systems. Yet, even with all those arrangements, he did not felt overly optimistic. The Sith were leaderless after all.

Suddenly, a message came through his comm. "General Septimus? Command is waiting for you, sir."

The General rose from his seat and made his way deeper underground.

 

[Green Ranger]

The Sith Imperial Navy was no longer equipped to defend the huge masses of territory that now were under direct Sith influence had spread both naval and ground forces too thinly. The Republic had obviously percieved this, along with the absence of the Dark Lord Provin, and had now begun assembling forces. Admiral Krakana, the feared Black Widow of the Sith Imperial Navy, knew that were Coruscant to be attacked with a determined assault, the planet would fall back into Republic hands. And it was only a matter of time before the Republic actually got the guts to try it.

Still, the Admiral was not really that worried. Coruscant was the centre of the galaxy, that was true, but the centre of the Sith? Never. To her, the city-planet was just another rock the Republic wanted. But, she had her orders, and the Admiral was charged with the naval defences of Coruscant, and so she would perform to the best of her abilities. she did allow herself a moment, however, to purse her lips in thought. If the Republic could take Coruscant, what would stop them from continuing to attack Sith worlds...What could prevent them fro mtaking the fight all the way to Korriban...?

'Admiral..?' An older officer, though by no means more capable, stood behind her. He showed none of the professional capability that had time and again proved Krakana's worth, and provided her promotion after promotion. Well, that and the deaths of all other real candidates. Kath Hound eat Kath Hound...

Standing up from her commanding chair in one fluid motion, the woman whirled around to face the man, her sapphire eye flaring with annoyance.

'Speak, fool, and try to look like the fighter coordination officer you are meant to be,' she hissed, placing the entire bridge of the Precedence in a sudden silence. The officer quickly stood to attention, though the sweat on his brow, and the quivering of his lower lip, proved to destroy the image. Still, he had his capabilities, so he remained alive for now.

'Admiral, word has come from command on-planet that they wish to speak with you. We have a holo set up for you already.'

'Patch it through, Officer, and return to your post. Communications information is for the comm team, not you. Make sure our fighter squadrons are ready to fly on a moments notice.'

'Yes, Admiral...thank you, ma'am...'

'You are dismissed,' she muttered, waving the fool away with a hand. She then strode over to a a wall projector, standing to attention, awaiting her superiors' information. Something...something told her, that the timing of such a meeting could not be worse...something big was going to happen. She could feel it.

 

[Enishi]

It was cold.

The air stung with a freeze Lukor had not felt in a great while. However, the passion of battle warmed him. Standing on the roof of a building, Lukor looked to the sky with anticipation; eagerness to spill the blood of those who would dare to take Coruscant. A day to be remembered for the Sith Empire's strength.

Yet, the disappearance of Provin and his master Sakiharu had burned deep within the tainted mind of the Acolyte. A third time he had been denied full training, Lukor relied on the holocrons within the library. While Sakiharu and Rogal had taught him strength, they had not strengthened his will nor his command of the force. It was within the dark libraries of Korriban that Lukor learned control. The twitch his eye had held since his return from the Unknown Regions of space had subsided and his command of the force had returned. His years in the jedi order as a young man had finally paid off, as now he was stronger; perhaps stronger then many of the Sith Knights within the academy.

Using a speeder to get to safer ground, Lukor entered the hanger; which had been emptied in preperation from the attack. Within, held the one thing he had held through his younger life; his light freighter, Fates Hand. While he had the energy and willingness to fly with the rest of his fellow men in space, Fates Hand would have more important purposes. One of the lesser droids, an upgraded astrometric droid, had been making the necessary additions to the ship; keeping it fired up for when the time came.

Supplies had been stocked on the ship, as well as backup power should the ship lose any of its thrust. While it was cowardly to be prepared to run, something about the oncomeing attack didn't seem right. Whether it be the unknown, taking its charge to the planet, or fear of the unknown, it was best to be ready.

Lightsaber hooked to his belt, and tattered robes swaying in an oncomeing breeze, the bald human debated whether or not to aid in ground support or air.

 

[Kit]

7 minutes left.

Working on a couple of last minute alterations to the plan, Rogal once more updated the co-ordinates for the jump, which should put their fleet between Coruscant and it's sun. That could give them a huge advantage, or it might not. Though any possible advantage was worth seizing hold of.

He whispered a prayer to whatever had kept him alive this long, and watched the timer, as the seconds ticked away. Outside the meters of armour, and beyond the safety of the colossal ship, the cold darkness of space waited. Not a pleasant way to die, but enough would today. Too many, in fact. So long as those lives were used wisely.

Spent, rather than wasted.

Two minutes to jump, all ships report in!

 

[Will]

Vàli Valtiere knew his role. HIs wave would go in after the main grunts of the mortal's army. He relished this. He and his pirates were born for this. He talked to this blind fellow of the tactics of his squads. ''Now, Watchman. My units are specialised. They work in terror combat. Psychological warfare. They rise from the shadows, preferably where people have just been killed. We will drop in via TIP's. Tiny, one man pods that can just about stand an atmospheric re-entry. They're so small that they slip past the Sith defence net. They are equipped with weaponary to mess with soldiers' minds.'' He then detailed the tactics for when on the ground. He heard the call over the FLEETCOM, answering immediatley.
''Crimson Blade and all associated ships signed in!'' He called, smiling.

* * *​

Hauron smiled as he made his way to the squad he was to lead. He became personally aquainted with each, so he knew them by their codenames: Ronin, daemon, fang, inferno and mohawk. They were deadly men, and they wore their helmets at all times. Fortunately, the sonic modification software was off. Hauron saw an example of a TIP. It was black, and coffin shaped. It was only just above 7 feet tall. It seemed to have hatches on the sides, flush with the main body, and one on the top. He opened it, and saw the tiny space within. Hauron would just about fit with his sword. This would be fun.​

 

[Will]

Ren Kumori stood beside the primary ion cannon, with her platoon. One of many, stretched across all the Ion cannons in the sector. Two robed figures stood behind her, heads bowed. They stood perfectly still. She felt the fear wafting off the men below. Let them be scared. If her allies feared her, then her enemies would know true terror. After this puny force was squashed, then she would finally receive the power she richly deserved. She had striven all her life for power, and, with Darth Provin and Sakiharu gone, Ren and Lukor were the only powerful figures left. The title of Dark Lady was for the taking. She surveyed the massive ion cannon she defended. The huge gun would be able to take down many ships in orbit. However, she knew her forces were stretched too thin to do any good if the enemy landed. The only safety they had was Ren herself, and she couldn't be everywhere at once...

 

[Solus]

Salak remained in the lead as he solemnly led his two brothers with him to report for orders. They were to be based on the ground, so far they knew that, but the details eluded them. They were not sure as to what purpose they would be used, but they were sure that it would be some kind of long-range attack; after all, they had been honing their abilities in the long-range. Together, they were a powerful group, capable of tearing the will and courage of the enemy and doing the opposite to their allies, that was what they knew to do. However, who knew, they might be used as transports for their superiors, but who knew any more, now that Provin had disappeared.

Slowly they walked up to Septimus, waiting for the General to take notice of them; they did not want to disturb him. It was good to know, though, that Provin had left them at a high enough grace to have the ability to walk up to a general of war, but it was yet to be known was his temperament would be.

They were sure he knew of their errand, so there was no real need to break the 'silence,' as it were, with their telepathy, and they did not desire to break any chain of thought. So they waited.

 

[Cyril Khan]

The sign in moment came. Now it was all or nothing. One hesitation would result in complete failure and loss. Omega Cell members were conditioned against such hesitation, even in the face of unreasonable odds. Smailliw set his example by quickly chiming his response.

"Hotspur and Omega Cell ships are prepared for the jump." The Sullustan said clearly. He then sent his orders to the Omega Cell fleet. "On exiting hyperspace, activate sensor jamming devices. We want to be invisible until the right moment. Captains! Remember to take care in your placement. Our hulls may make us visually invisible and our sensors lost to machines, but we are the same to each other. We don't want collisions."

---

Deven Jarmain made waited for all to call in and made his own announcement. "Rage Squadron prepped for jump and action" With that, the enigma returned to silence. He remained in wait for the moment of battle. He had not seen a Sith since he abandoned that Order before Calamities fall. He remembered the first onslaught of Coruscant; he stood by the side of Dire as the temple fell. Now he returned to restore the damage made.

 

[Dexington]

"Dropships deploy and enter Coruscant from the opposite side of the planet, away from the battle. Wait until my command on the ground before picking us up. You could be waiting a while."

Dak's commands were clear and only to his own ships. He had his fleet fitted with an immense amount of dropships for a quick evacuation if things got out of hand. The dropships let out of his fleet and waited behind for the rest of the ships to go through hyperspace. They would then circle around and enter from the other side, which would take a long time.

"We're ready."