**Chapter 635**
**Scene 1**
**Republic Military Headquarters, Coruscant**
**General Valentra POV**
The Republic Military Headquarters had descended into barely controlled chaos. Emergency red lighting bathed the command center in an ominous glow as main power remained offline. Officers shouted over one another, aides ran between stations with datapads, and the low hum of backup generators struggled to keep critical systems alive.
"What happened? Why is the power off?" General Valentra demanded, his voice cutting through the noise like a whip as he stormed into the central operations room.
"Sir, EMP," a senior officer replied, sweat beading on his forehead. "Dagon couldn't stop the last warhead, but he prevented the radiation and blast wave. Not the EMP. The pulse took out most of the planetary grid and orbital comms relays."
"Sir, no signals — we're completely blind," another officer added, frantically tapping at dead consoles. "Planetary shields are down. Long-range sensors are offline. We're operating on local emergency power only."
Valentra cursed internally, his stomach twisting. *We are defenseless.* Without power, the heart of the Republic was exposed. No shields. No communications. No way to coordinate a proper defense if another wave came. Coruscant — the most heavily defended planet in the galaxy — had just been crippled in minutes.
"Get emergency power to critical systems!" he barked. "Prioritize planetary defense batteries, medical centers, and the Senate district! And someone find me a line to the *Grey Wolf*! I need to know what the hell is happening up there!"
The room erupted into frantic activity. Valentra stared at the mostly dark tactical display, red emergency markers flickering where orbital assets had been lost. The war had finally reached the Core.
**Scene 2**
**Grey Wolf – Bridge**
**Admiral Grace O'Connor POV**
The bridge of the *Grey Wolf* was a storm of controlled panic. Alarms blared as the crew worked desperately to maintain formation while launching rescue operations. Admiral Grace O'Connor stood at the center, her pink skin flushed with tension, issuing rapid orders.
"The Galactic City is powered off," Moff Trachta's hologram flickered on the main display, his face grim. "We are deploying all gunships and emergency shuttles. Our scans indicate numerous speeders lost power and fell. The radiation is minimal except for one spot. Scans show strong organic signatures."
"That's Dagon," Grace said, her voice tight with worry. "He is heavily wounded."
She turned sharply to the flight control officer. "Launch rescue shuttles immediately! Priority one — bring General Marek aboard. Medical teams to the hangar, full radiation protocol! I want him on this ship in the next five minutes!"
Trachta's hologram nodded. "Understood. We'll cover your descent. The fleet is forming a defensive perimeter. Whatever hit us… it was coordinated."
Grace clenched her fists, staring out the viewport at the darkened planet below. Emergency lights flickered across Galactic City like dying stars. "Hold on, Dagon. We're coming for you."
**Scene 3**
**Senate Building – Main Rotunda, Coruscant**
**Padmé Amidala POV**
Panic had completely overtaken the Senate Rotunda. Senators shouted over one another as emergency lights cast an eerie red glow across the massive chamber. News of the nuclear attack and the resulting EMP blackout had spread like wildfire. Reports flooded in — speeder accidents, falling debris, failing life support systems across entire districts of Galactic City.
Padmé Amidala stood in her pod, hands gripping the railing so tightly her knuckles were white. Her hopes for peace — the peace conference, the Separatist proposal, Mina Bonteri's sincerity — were now gone. Just like Dagon had warned her.
"The Republic has only one choice now," she whispered to herself, tears stinging her eyes. "Victory… or death."
Bail Organa's voice rose above the noise from his platform. "We must restore order! Activate all emergency protocols! The Chancellor must address the Senate immediately!"
Mon Mothma stood beside him, her expression resolute despite the fear in her eyes. "This attack proves the Separatists never wanted peace. We fight on."
Garm Bel Iblis slammed his fist on his console. "No more talks! We end this war — now!"
Padmé closed her eyes, feeling the weight of the galaxy pressing down on her. The dream of diplomacy had died in the skies above Coruscant. Dagon had been right all along. The path to peace had been an illusion, and now the Republic itself bled in the darkness.