[color=lightcoral][center][h3]Fringe Space, Draconian Empire, Colony 257G of the Forerunners[/h3][/center][/color]
[color=Peru]A savage, evil grin spread across Draconia's face upon hearing the message. [i]Oh, this will be a sweet victory.[/i] She spun around from the holo-table, and begin shouting orders at the officers arrayed around the room, behind consoles and admin decks (which are a sort of really durable Neural Network (computer stuff) PDA). 

"I want Shrike wings ready to lift off on a moment's notice, but make sure they are covered and are [i]not[/i] giving off unreasonable heat signatures! Move tank battalions 3D3 and 6S1 into the area immediately surrounding our position. Get me a flight of ARS drones moving in patrol patterns around this area, and any other airfield, supported by Type-66es, NOW!"

A chorus of "Aye-aye, Forerunner!" sounded out in sequence as orders were received. The evil grin refused to fade as she continued calling out orders, automated infantry taking up places within the forest and around the mine and control center, tanks mixed in between so that heavy, medium, and anti-air tanks were situated evenly around all strategic points, loose items vibrating silently against their perches as stealthed wings of Rebels fly overhead. KIEV armored trucks drove about between bases, spreading out critical staff across the continent along recently constructed roads. Dropships, vehicles capable of carrying a platoon of infantry or an entire Steelback tank, bristling with cannons, missiles, and other ordnance, fly about, transporting soldiers to the few mountains on the planet, and to FOBs and outposts. 

All in all, the planet had turned into a beehive of activity, with a hundred make-believe battles happening all over the planet. Satellites above did nothing more but re-orient themselves to face different parts of the large continents below, separated only by long strips of sea, as wide as a lake, as long as an ocean. Submarines hid in their depths, ICBMs and IABMs at the ready. 

As the satisfied Draconia watched all this from the biggest base on the planet- both sides of it having entrenched trooptransports, a hundred hangars with fueled-up Shrikes on standby, and hundreds of barracks, car depots, mess halls, and other buildings set up to act as the population center of the planet. Six massive parallel runways went right down the middle of the majority of the hangars, two more parallel runways set a row of hangars over, allowing for increased incoming and departing aircraft.

The other two largest airports/spaceports sent exact landing coordinates for the "allied" forces above, and were relayed through Draconia to the ships waiting above. She eagerly waited for them to pass through the screen surrounding the planet, hundreds and hundreds of defense satellites, just waiting for the signal to lock links with each other, and shred any ships coming in or out. 

But on impulse, she ordered to the officers, "Order all troops to be on standby to take cover. Orbital bombardment may commence, as they may decide to bombard rather than come down and attempt to eliminate our troops themselves. Move thirteen platoons to engage my forces, and three battalions. I want a battle taking place when they get down here- then we can turn on them. Make sure a full regiment of KIEVS, loaded full with tactical urban combatants, are ready to come in and take down enemy units as they leave their dropships. I want them dead when they touch the ground, and i want their communications stuck planet-side. If they can alert their troops above, then we may not survive orbital bombardment. Send messages to the tugs on the dark side; I want them to send orders to the fleet to regroup and warp into the upper orbit of this planet on my command."[/color]