The Senate complex was in chaos. Alarms blared throughout the vast chambers, not as a call to prepare defenses but as a desperate attempt to initiate a full-scale evacuation. Staffers, delegates, and security personnel moved in frantic waves toward the designated exits, their faces etched with panic. However, without functional communications, the evacuation was disorganized and perilously slow. Confused shouts echoed as groups collided, desperate for direction. Many of the Senate guards, bewildered by the sudden loss of orders, struggled to maintain some semblance of order.
In the heart of the confusion, Captain Tavik stood near the primary security terminal, sweat beading on his forehead as he barked orders to the remaining personnel. "Get everyone out through the auxiliary exits! Move, now!" His voice cut through the cacophony, but without centralized coordination, chaos reigned.
"Sir, the chancellor has been secured, last feed shows the lockdown protocols have been engaged. Bunker has been secured and cut off."
The surveillance officer beside him frantically cycled through camera feeds. "Sir, we've lost connection with most of the main surveillance systems," he reported. "I can only access a few scattered feeds."
Tavik gritted his teeth. "Then focus on the lower levels and the main evacuation routes. We need to know where the bottlenecks are."
Suddenly, one of the remaining functioning feeds caught something that made the officer's face go pale. "Captain... you've got to see this," he whispered, beckoning Tavik urgently.
The screen flickered, showing four slim figures in dark robes moving with uncanny precision through the halls. Their lightsabers deflected blaster fire in graceful arcs, each step measured and relentless. At their center was a figure that dwarfed them all—a towering armored behemoth wielding a massive warhammer that shimmered with dark energy. His thick, rune-etched armor absorbed the volleys of blaster fire without so much as a scratch, and shimmering personal shields flared as stray shots glanced off.
The guards' desperate efforts were futile. One Jedi vaulted over a barricade, severing a blaster rifle in a single fluid motion before disarming the soldier with a swift kick. Another moved like a specter, her green lightsaber slicing through a group of guards with surgical precision. Behind them, Dogma advanced like a nightmare given form. His warhammer swung in brutal arcs, sending guards flying like ragdolls. One soldier, attempting to stand his ground, was crushed outright, his armor crumpling under the sheer force of the blow.
The surveillance officer's voice was hoarse. "They've breached sublevel two. They're heading for the Chancellor."
Tavik's stomach knotted. The chancellor was now trapped in the bunker—thanks to his decision.
"All of you, converge on the lower levels! Hold them at all costs, grab whomever you happen to see on your way and-" Tavik roared, only for an officer to scream over him.
"BRACE FOR IMPACT!!!"
But even as the words left his lips, the building trembled violently. The floor beneath their feet buckled with a deafening crack. Tavik had only a split second to react before the entire room collapsed, plunging them into darkness.
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The corridor was a charnel house.
Bodies lay strewn across the polished durasteel floor, their armor scorched and shattered. Smoke curled from blaster marks on the walls, mingling with the acrid stench of burnt flesh. The air was thick with the echoes of blaster fire, screams, and the ominous hum of lightsabers.
Dogma strode through the carnage like a titan unleashed. His warhammer swung in devastating arcs, each blow shattering bones and sending Senate guards flying like ragdolls. One guard, desperate and trembling, fired point-blank at Dogma's chest. The bolts dissipated against his shimmering shields.
With a growl that reverberated through his helmet, Dogma seized the guard by the throat. The man struggled, his boots scraping against the floor, but Dogma's grip was unyielding. With a savage twist, Dogma hurled him into a column with bone-snapping force.
Nearby, the Jedi were a whirlwind of death. Blue and green blades danced through the air, deflecting blaster fire with fluid precision. One Jedi leaped over a barricade, his lightsaber carving a deadly arc that felled three guards in a single motion. Another spun gracefully, her blade slicing through weapons and limbs alike.
"Fall back! Fall back!" a panicked sergeant shouted, but the order was futile.
Dogma's voice rumbled through his helmet's modulator. "No mercy. Press forward."
The Jedi obeyed without question, their movements synchronized with deadly efficiency. They were tools, honed and sharpened for this moment, and Dogma was their unstoppable vanguard.
A squad of guards attempted to regroup at a choke point, setting up heavy repeaters. The weapons roared to life, filling the corridor with a hail of red bolts.
Dogma didn't flinch. His warhammer glowed with malevolent energy as he charged. The bolts struck his shields, flickering but holding firm. With a roar, he brought the hammer down on the nearest repeater, the impact shattering the weapon and sending a shockwave that blasted the guards off their feet.
One guard, dazed but alive, tried to crawl away. Dogma's boot came down on his back, pinning him to the floor.
"Please," the guard whimpered.
Dogma's response was cold and final. He leaned on his foot and after a moment of agonized screams, his other foot moved as he took another step forwards and past the (now) remains of the senate guard.
The team pressed deeper into the complex. The lighting flickered, casting long, jagged shadows across the walls. The sound faded behind them, replaced by an eerie, oppressive silence.
Dogma's breathing was heavy, mechanical, a rhythmic reminder of his transformation. His armor bore scorch marks, but he was otherwise unscathed. Blood—his enemies'—slicked the floor beneath his boots.
"We're close," one of the Jedi murmured, his voice low.
Dogma nodded. "The Chancellor is just below us. We finish this."
Suddenly, the building trembled again. Dust and debris rained from the ceiling. Cracks spiderwebbed across the walls.
Dogma's helmet display flickered with warnings. "Structural instability detected." the system intoned.
He ignored it. Nothing would stop them now.
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In the dimly lit confines of the bunker, Palpatine sat on an ornate chair, his face a mask of cold fury. The reinforced durasteel walls trembled with each distant explosion.
Two red-clad Royal Guards stood at attention, their grips tight on their force pikes. Several officers huddled near the control console, their faces pale.
"Status report," Palpatine demanded, his voice cutting through the tension.
An officer stammered, "They've breached sublevel three, Your Excellency. We... we've lost all communications with the upper levels."
Palpatine's yellow eyes gleamed with malice. "So, they come for me at last." He rose, his dark robes swirling around him.
Palpatine's lips curled into a cruel smile. "Let them come. I will show them the true meaning of power."
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The bridge of the Pride of the Core was a symphony of chaos, filled with the crackle of comms, the sharp bark of orders, and the constant hum of damaged systems trying to remain operational. The blue glow of holographic displays flickered wildly, casting fractured light across the grim faces of officers. Consoles sparked intermittently, and smoke lingered in the air, mingling with the acrid scent of scorched metal.
Lelouch sat at the heart of it all, his posture calm and regal despite the turmoil surrounding him. His white attire was pristine, untainted by the madness of war, and his violet eyes gleamed with a calculating light as he observed the unfolding battle through the main viewport.
The Pride of the Core, his flagship, was bleeding but unbroken. Multiple sections had already gone dark, entire decks vented into the void. The starship trembled under the relentless assault of enemy bombers and fighter squadrons that swarmed like a plague of locusts. The dwindling enemy fleet had proven resilient, their sheer superiority in small craft grinding down even Lelouch's formidable defenses.
"Section 14 is gone! We've lost life support in Decks 3 through 7!" shouted one officer, his voice hoarse with urgency.
"Divert power from auxiliary systems! Seal off the affected decks!" another barked.
"Fighter cover's not holding!" a desperate comms officer reported. "We're getting torn apart—three more bombers just breached our formation near the aft side!"
From Lelouch's right, Fordo stood with remarkable composure, though his clenched fists betrayed the tension boiling beneath his calm exterior. His hands rested at his sides, fingers twitching, ready to spring into action at any moment.
A sharp tremor rattled the deck, causing several officers to stumble. Fordo's voice remained steady as he lowered his head slightly. "Captain Tarkin has successfully evacuated the Senate building," he reported. "However, we lost communications once Dogma and his hit squad descended into the lower levels."
Lelouch arched a brow, his expression a silent demand for whatever Fordo seemed to want to say.
Fordo clenched his fists tighter. "I'm requesting permission to deploy a team of ARC troopers to ensure Dogma's success," he said, his voice low but resolute. "With the comms blackout, we can't confirm the status of the Chancellor—or if Dogma's squad has reached him."
The air grew heavy as the tension mounted. Officers around them fell silent, as suddenly the entire deck made sure no comms were on from their side, the silent glances being passed around mroe than enough to convey the gravity fo the situation as they all focused their eyes on the battle, their ears however, attuned to awaiting Lelouch's response.
Lelouch's lips curled into a faint, almost amused smile. "Dogma has been given ample resources to ensure his success," he said with calm finality. "And that's not even considering the first contingency eliminating the target preemptively—which is unlikely but not entirely impossible."
Fordo's brow furrowed. "And if Dogma fails?"
Lelouch leaned back in his seat, his gaze distant as though contemplating a particularly intricate chessboard. "Dogma and his hit squad are merely the second contingency," he said softly. "After them comes the third... the fourth, and so on until i have no choice but to face my old master myself. I've accounted for every probable outcome. I'm quite curious to see how long the Dark Lord of the Sith will last, though my calculations predict his fall by the third contingency. That one is quite... definitive." His voice carried a chilling certainty that made even Fordo still for a moment.
Before Fordo could respond, the tactical officer interrupted with a frantic shout. "Multiple enemy fighters breaking through the defensive line! We can't hold them much longer!"
Lelouch's voice was razor-sharp. "All available gun batteries, prioritize bomber formations. Fighters, tighten the formation and focus on defense. We need to buy time."
Outside, the battle raged with ferocity. Swarms of vulture droids zigzagged through space, their cannons spitting relentless fire at the Pride's hull. Republic V-wings fought desperately to intercept them, their pilots exchanging rapid comm chatter as they tried to regain control of the chaotic engagement.
"This is Gold Leader! I'm down to two wingmen—we need backup!"
"Negative, Gold Leader! Reinforcements are pinned on the starboard side—hold your position!"
"We can't hold much longer! Aft shields are at 12 percent—"
Static cut through the comms as a bomber detonated against the Pride's hull, sending shockwaves rippling through the ship. The viewport flashed white from the explosion, and the deck trembled violently.
Despite the chaos, Lelouch remained composed, his voice cold and commanding. "Hold your ground. We are not abandoning this position." His eyes flickered with determination. "Fordo, oversee extraction squads if necessary. But I will not leave this battle unfinished."
Fordo hesitated before nodding sharply. "Yes, sir." He turned and barked orders to the nearby officers, his tone brooking no argument.
As Fordo moved to rally the extraction teams, Lelouch's gaze remained fixed on the tactical display. His mind raced through countless variables, calculating, adapting, and predicting every possible outcome.
Victory was still within reach—but it would come at a price, that is how it must be portrayed, and thats how it would seem to the galaxy.
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The deep thrum of ancient durasteel echoed throughout the Chancellor's bunker, each resounding bang shaking the room like a seismic tremor. Emperor Palpatine—Darth Sidious—stood in the center of the grand, dimly lit chamber, his golden eyes narrowing at the disturbance. A slight sneer curled on his lips as he extended his senses beyond the thick door.
Four Jedi presences flickered vividly in the Force, their auras sharp and resolute. But something else lingered alongside them—an anomaly. Unlike the Jedi, this presence was fragmented, nearly imperceptible, almost like static to his heightened awareness. Palpatine's brow furrowed as he attempted to pin down the elusive sensation, but it remained frustratingly amorphous.
'Curious... but irrelevant,' he thought.
A thunderous final bang shattered the tense stillness, followed by silence. Palpatine's eyes gleamed with malevolent anticipation. He could feel the gathering energy on the other side—Force energy being shaped into a singular, destructive purpose.
He sidestepped smoothly.
The blast came without warning. The heavily reinforced bunker door, engineered to withstand magnitudes of explosions and breaching charges, was flung from its hinges like a toy. It hurtled through the air, carving a path of destruction as it obliterated Palpatine's desk and chair, slamming into the far wall with a deafening crash.
Dust and debris clouded the room, and through the haze, a massive figure emerged. Clad in dark, rune-etched heavy armor, the warrior's breaths came in slow, menacing rasps that reverberated through the chamber. His presence was overwhelming—a living engine of destruction wielding a massive warhammer that shimmered with the force.
Palpatine's sneer twisted into contempt. Jedi in armor? How desperate.
Two crimson-clad Imperial Royal Guards moved to intercept the intruders. The Jedi ignited their lightsabers in flashes of green, blue, and violet, moving with lethal precision. Blades clashed as the Guards fought valiantly, but it was a futile effort.
Palpatine's attention, however, was solely on the towering figure charging straight for him.
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Dogma's heart pounded in his chest as he barreled forward. Every step was a calculated risk, every breath a reminder of the instructions burned into his mind. Lelouch had been clear: the mission relied on exploiting Sidious's arrogance.
Dogma wasn't Force-sensitive. That was his advantage.
The Sith Lord would underestimate him, despite his imposing appearance. This was his moment—the opening he needed.
Sidious's eyes gleamed as he raised a hand. A crimson blade ignited, its hum filling the chamber. The Sith's strike was fast, aimed directly for Dogma's neck.
Dogma's gauntleted arm shot up, catching the lightsaber. Sparks flew as the blade hissed against the reinforced material—but it held.
Dogma clenched his jaw and seized Sidious's arm in an iron grip.
Without hesitation, he thrust his warhammer toward the Sith Lord's center mass, aiming for a decisive blow.
Despite the unexpected strength of the armored warrior, Sidious's lips curled into a sadistic grin. Foolish brute.
He extended his free hand, not to block the hammer but to unleash a torrent of blue-white lightning. The crackling energy collided with the hammer mid-strike, stopping it dead in its tracks. Arcs of electricity danced across the weapon's surface as Sidious poured more power into the attack.
Dogma growled and pulled with his other arm, yanking Sidious toward him.
Lightning lanced from Sidious's hand, striking the runic armor directly. To his astonishment, the energy washed over the soldier harmlessly as the runes flared to life, absorbing the brunt of the attack.
Dogma surged forward, slamming his armored head into Sidious's face. The impact was brutal, sending the Sith Lord staggering back. Pain blossomed in Sidious's skull, but he gritted his teeth and summoned the Force to steady himself.
The runes flickered—then dimmed.
Sidious's eyes gleamed with triumph. "You cannot withstand the dark side forever."
His lightning intensified, arcs of raw energy scratching through the surface of the armor. The runes shattered one by one, their protective glow fading as the lightning was so intense that arcs of it physically destroyed some runes, running charred lines across them. Dogma's movements faltered as the searing energy pierced through the armor, scorching his flesh.
Still, the soldier did not let go.
He could not crush it, for the Dark lord would likely cut off the appendage, but he would hold on.
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Having dispatched the guards, the four Jedi leaped into action, their lightsabers slicing through the air. They moved as one, a blur of coordinated strikes aimed at the Dark Lord.
Sidious snarled, releasing a shockwave that sent two Jedi skidding back. The others pressed on, delivering glancing blows that seared his robes. One blade grazed his side, drawing a hiss of pain.
Rage consumed Sidious. "You will all die!"
He moved with unnatural speed, his lightsaber a crimson blur as he threw it on his free hamd. One Jedi fell, his head severed in a single stroke. Another was impaled through the chest, her scream cut short. The remaining two fought valiantly, but Sidious's mastery of the Force was overwhelming.
"This is true power, UNLIMITED POWER!" he roared, unleashing a storm of lightning that filled the entire chamber. The walls trembled, and the floor cracked under the sheer force of his attack. The surviving Jedi were engulfed in the torrent, their bodies convulsing before collapsing lifelessly to the ground.
Dust and smoke filled the room. The bunker walls groaned under the strain, threatening to collapse.
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Amid the destruction, Dogma remained standing, though barely. His armor was scorched and cracked, the runes completely destroyed. Blood dripped from countless wounds, and his dominant arm was gone—severed by a precise lightsaber strike from Sidious.
The Sith Lord loomed over him, his yellow eyes blazing with triumph. "Valiant effort," he sneered, "but you have failed nonetheless."
Dogma's breathing was ragged, but his gaze was unwavering. "Failure... is not an option. FOR THE EMPEROR!!!"
*BOOM* *BOOM* *BOOM*
Sidious's sneer faltered as a series of explosions reverberated through the bunker.
Dogma's remaining hand tightened around the Sith Lord's arm. Sidious raised his lightsaber to sever the grip—but too late.
An explosion erupted from Dogma himself, the final act of defiance from a soldier who had been willing to give everything.
The chamber was consumed in blinding light and fire.
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The command bridge of Excalibur was tense, the atmosphere thick with the weight of battle. The ship rocked violently as yet another bombing run from enemy fighters struck its hull. Officers moved frantically, relaying orders and coordinating what defenses they had left. Smoke and sparks hissed from damaged consoles, casting flickering shadows across the room.
Fordo stood by Lelouch's side, his jaw clenched, his usually stoic demeanor cracking under the weight of grim news. His voice was low but firm. "Dogma's vitals... they're gone, sir."
Lelouch's expression remained impassive, though his fingers paused for the briefest moment on the communicator he had been toying with since the start of the day. He nodded once, a silent acknowledgment of the loss.
Without looking up, Lelouch spoke with chilling calm. "Execute Contingency Pattern Ground Zero for P4."
The response crackled through the communicator, cold and mechanical. "Roger, roger."
Satisfied, Lelouch resumed toying with the device
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The once-magnificent Senate complex had become a war zone. Fires raged uncontrollably, and shattered pillars littered the marble floors. Smoke choked the air as disorganized Senate guards, desperate and terrified, attempted to form defensive lines. Blaster fire echoed throughout the chambers, sporadic and panicked.a
The source of their terror was clear.
Droids—countless, gleaming machines of war—poured from the twisted wreckage of the crashed Lucrehulk battleship. Their blasters fired indiscriminately, mowing down anyone in their path. Senators, aides, and security personnel alike fell under the merciless assault.
"Hold the line!" a Senate guard captain roared, his voice raw with desperation. "We have to hold the line!"
But it was futile.
A trio of B2 super battle droids advanced relentlessly, their arm-mounted cannons vaporizing everything in their path. A desperate guard threw a thermal detonator, only for the blast to leave the thick plating of the droids barely scorched.
In the chaos, a squad of guards attempted to regroup near a barricade. "We need backup!" one screamed into his comm, though there was no response.
Before they could rally, a hail of blaster fire tore through their formation. The last surviving guard fell, his desperate scream cut short by the cold finality of death.
Above, the central spire of the Senate building groaned ominously, weakened by the devastation. Debris rained down as the structure threatened to collapse entirely.
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Inside the remains of the Lucrehulk, a command room flickered with emergency lights. Battle droids manned the remaining functional stations, their mechanical movements precise and unyielding.
One droid, its photoreceptors glowing faintly, turned to the commander. "Ground Zero contingency has been activated for this ship."
The commander droid processed the command. "Disengage safeties. Overload the reactors. Turn all weapons on ground targets for maximum collateral damage."
"Roger, roger," came the chorus of droids as they executed their orders.
Panels lit up with warnings as the ship's systems began to overload. Energy surges crackled through the battered remains of the vessel, and the reactors glowed ominously, their containment fields destabilizing.
The droids worked without hesitation.
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Amid the smoldering ruins of the bunker, smoke swirled in thick clouds, obscuring everything. The air was heavy with the acrid stench of charred metal and flesh.
A figure emerged from the chaos.
Emperor Palpatine's cloak was scorched and tattered, his skin blackened with burns. One arm was gone, torn off at the shoulder, while one of his legs bent at an unnatural angle. Charred wounds marred his body, but he stood upright, his presence defiant and unyielding.
A twisted smile curled on his lips as he surveyed the devastation. "So... it was you, my apprentice," he rasped, his voice filled with dark amusement. "Very well done for a first attempt... but I wonder how you will top it—"
His voice faltered as a sudden, overwhelming sense of danger gripped him through the Force.
Sidious's yellow eyes widened in shock.
Above, the sky erupted in a blinding light.
The Lucrehulk's reactors detonated, unleashing a cataclysmic explosion. The blast consumed everything in its radius, vaporizing the Senate building and its surrounding districts. The underground was no different as the compromised durasteel floors gave way. Fire and energy surged skyward.
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Padmé Amidala stood frozen on the balcony of her apartment, her breath caught in her throat. The shockwave of the explosion reached her moments later, rattling the windows and sending a gust of hot air through the room.
Her wide eyes reflected the rising sun that was once the beating heart of the Republic.
A.N: Longest yet... hell yeah :) Hope you enoyed it.