**Chapter 747: Crimson Dawn on Alsakan**
**Scene 1: Alsakan – Ecumenopolis Capital District**
Alsakan was a jewel of the Core. An ancient ecumenopolis on the Perlemian Trade Route, it had been a major political force for millennia. A Core Founder, it had once challenged Coruscant itself during the seventeen Alsakan Conflicts, championing local independence and limited government against the centralized bureaucracy of "the Spin." Its wealthy spires and meticulously planned districts reflected thousands of years of aristocratic pride. The Alsakan Mosaics may have been lost long ago, but the planet's cultural influence still echoed across the Axis.
Today, it was a target.
A single unmarked stealth ship slipped through the outer defense grid under false transponder codes. On board, infected Sun Guard — their bodies already beginning to twist beneath their armor — waited in silent agony. The remaining samples of Crimson-71 had been aerosolized and loaded into dispersal canisters.
The ship made a single low-altitude pass over one of the vast public parks in the capital district before releasing its payload. Invisible at first, the weapon spread on the wind.
**Scene 2: Public Park – Outbreak**
A young family was enjoying a peaceful afternoon walk.
The father pushed a hover-stroller while the mother held their five-year-old daughter's hand. The girl laughed, pointing at colorful avian drones performing loops overhead. Around them, hundreds of citizens strolled along tree-lined paths, enjoying one of Alsakan's rare open green spaces amid the endless cityscape.
Then the first victim coughed.
A jogger in the middle of his run suddenly stumbled, veins turning dark red beneath his skin. He collapsed, convulsing violently. Black-red tendrils erupted from his mouth and eyes, lashing out at the nearest bystanders.
Screams erupted as the infection spread like wildfire.
The mother tried to run, clutching her daughter, but a tendril whipped around her ankle. Within seconds, her body began to twist and bulge grotesquely. Red biomass consumed her from the inside, reshaping flesh and bone into something monstrous — a living nightmare of tentacles and jagged protrusions. The child's screams were cut short as the same fate took her.
The father watched in horror for only a moment before the infection claimed him too.
Within minutes, the peaceful park had become a slaughterhouse. Grotesque red tentacle monsters — once people — shambled forward, infecting indiscriminately. Some victims were torn apart. Others were *converted*, their bodies repurposed into new vectors for the plague. A few unlucky souls were kept partially conscious, trapped inside their own mutating flesh in eternal torment.
The alarm systems finally activated. Planetary defense forces scrambled. But it was already too late. Crimson-71 had a week's head start — undetectable, adaptive, and hungry.
**Scene 3: Devastation – Bridge**
Dagon Marek stood on the bridge of the *Devastation*, fists clenched so tightly the gauntlets creaked. The emergency priority transmission from Alsakan played on every screen.
"...multiple outbreaks confirmed across the capital district. Infection rate exponential. Civilian casualties… unknown. Requesting immediate assistance from Supreme Command—"
The feed cut to static as another relay was lost.
Atroxa's voice was cold. "Vitiate's final gift. He always preferred indirect destruction."
Miaria's tail lashed violently. "How many will die before we can contain it?"
"Too many," Dagon said, voice distorted and flat. "But we move now. Full battle group to Alsakan. Project Ascension volunteers are to be deployed the moment they're ready. Burn every infected zone from orbit if necessary."
Talon stepped forward. "And if it reaches the Core proper?"
Dagon turned, the scars on his face stark under the bridge lighting. "Then we learn exactly how far we're willing to go to save the galaxy."
He looked at the women around him — his growing circle of queens, warriors, and survivors.
"Crimson-71 wants to consume everything. We will teach it that some fires burn hotter than it can withstand."
As the *Devastation* and its battle group jumped into hyperspace toward Alsakan, the Dragon prepared for a new kind of war — one fought not just with fleets and armies, but with purification, sacrifice, and the unbreakable will to stop an ancient horror from devouring the Republic from within.
The clock was ticking.