"What sounds like a good idea?"

"-uh. My lord..."

"Asking you about what you know of how the Force works along a bunch of dimensions."

"That does sound like a good idea. But for now, we have an attack to conduct."

"Yes, my Lord."

"We three and Khem Val, along with a detachment of Moff Pyron's elite, will use the Republic shuttles to land on the near side of the battle and carve through their back ranks to the tower and take control of it. In the ensuing confusion, further reinforcements will be landed to finish off the Republic forces and solidify my control."

Nod.

"Follow." She leads the way to where the shuttles are waiting. The soldiers salute. She nods at the lieutenant in command, and everyone boards.

It's not far to the outpost, about fifteen minutes by air. Occlus sits crosslegged in her seat, eyes closed, gathering power.

And Rafa meditates, a quick moving session to restore energy and ready up.

Brin... fidgets. She can't focus. Her parents' old war stories are suddenly, frighteningly, much more relevant than they've ever been. She thought it would be like the waiting before a duel, but it isn't. That might have something to do with all the other people, the commandos readychecking their weapons up and down the line or Occlus sitting over there doing whatever it is she's doing and Rafa over there- mm. She doesn't want think about that right now. How about something safe, like her last spar- nope. The time before that. That'll work.

Rafa picks up on the emotions Brin is feeling, but he doesn't let them distract from the meditation.

He can, however, multitask: "Still your mind," he says softly in Brin's direction. "You can only change what you do, so focus on yourself."

Focus on herself. Right. She matters. Just be the best her and let everything else sort itself out. Okay.

The transports land, and the doors open to reveal the Republic's back ranks. There's fierce fighting across the plaza ahead, and more than one bright spot where a Jedi lightsaber rallies a squad. The commandos rush out to form a perimeter.

Occlus unfolds herself and stands. The weight of her power is a lead ball weighing on the mind, a gravitational vortex ripping through a delicate orbital system. A wave of lightning flares from her hands, and she clears the area beyond the commandos. Her eyes flash purple and a grin carves her mouth as she strides into the fray.