[17 BBY]

[TIE-AG/4 model, Consular Squadron, launching lower flight-bay, Eriadu Authority Capital-class Warship Stormcrow, Strikeforce Templar, Republic 5th Fleet, exiting hyperspace unnamed system, edge of Outer Rim Territories-Wildspace Border Systems]

"Consular Leader clear" Aayla Secura called out into the comms as her TIE-AG/4 seemed to buck as it dropped and burned out from the Stormcrow's lower flight decks. The still sluggish as all hell flight decks, but it was about as good as they could get the ancient, heavily armoured and shielded, vessel to do she knew already "All wings form up and report in"

Swiftly, precisely, almost unnaturally fast some would say, the squadrons of TIEs, ARC-170s, and Y-Wings answered Aayla's call, though in truth, through the Force, already knew their status before the finished speaking the words. Her pilots felt it at the corner of their minds, barely noticed, but for Aayla the Force sang in her mind, everything part of a greater whole, all of them moving as one, yet still separate. As before it was at once both glorious and worrying, and it was stronger this time, a beating heart, the breathing of lungs, as Aayla and her squadrons burned hard towards their targets.

Yet another barely explored system on the edge of civilized space, and yet again it was filled with the rapidly evolving savagery of battle. The Dark Side roared beyond the calming ocean of the Force Aayla and the others were buffered within as starships spat turbloasers and missiles, and starships died. With the Force and the best technology available to the Republic the Fleet had, finally, suckered in, and then prey-trapped, the Grysk invasion scout fleet. Now Aayla's squadrons and others, led by Knight Morne, the two Nightsisters, and the best pilots the Stormcrow had available, were flanking and enveloping the desperate invaders. She could feel it, and them, through the Force, from where they were, to where they would be.

Aayla's TIE accelerated at a touch, the viewscreen showing all before her, and her helmet showing a full spectrum overlay of the battle space, albeit minimalist in nature, and turning to engage the foe. She still preferred the Eta-2 Actis, but the TIE was fast, the TIE had shields, and it responded just as she wanted it now as she played the prey for the charging foe. Her squadron mates, many twi'leks like her, 'danced' in behind the enemy and his wingmate, the power energy weapons of the TIEs knocking down the shields and destroying the starfighters in swift order. They were pack hunters, and the TIE was ideal for that as they 'danced' about in space to engage the next wave as the Y-Wings came forward with the ARC-170s.

No, her dislike was the always 'nearly cluttered' feel of her current starfighter, the typical 'fit in everything' Outer Rim mentality found in smuggler or 'courier' craft. It wasn't cluttered, but to her it always felt just on the verge of being so as she manoeuvred rapidly between energy attacks, then unleash her own fire in response – her bolts knocking down shields, her wingmate's killing the craft. Beyond them, where the main fleet was fighting, a great 'wall' of anti-starfighter firepower was being laid down. Crews were turning veteran, and droid systems being refined with each feeling of death through the Force, with each ticking second as Y-Wings began targeting the heavier Grysk warship bridge ahead. The harsh calculus of evolve or die on the battlefield as droid-fighters trapped the remaining enemy fleet elements.

Aayla could feel the ARC-170s clearing the way, hitting turbolaser batteries, while she and her TIEs pack hunted down the enemy starfighter cover. On her flank Aayla could feel the unshakeable presence of Knight Morne, though she strongly suspected between the 'feel' of the time-displaced human female that the 'Knight' was probably a Master of the Old Jedi Order, a Shadow, hiding her true strength. Possibly because of the pillars of strength from the 'heart' of the Fleet, from the beating heart of the Battle Meditation buffeting Aayla's very soul. There, at the centre, was the Stormcrow, who now was…bathed in serenity even amidst the bloodshed, perhaps even because of it. It unnerved her.

Beside him, like rotating pillars of Light and Dark, was the Datomirii witch, and former apprentice to Count Dooku, Ventress. An unnervingly close relationship, perhaps even a Force Bond, there even if Aayla…was torn on the subject. Ventress was different now. Gone was the roaring rage and burning hatred that threatened to lash out at any time, and now there was a feeling of focused….Aayla wasn't sure, like calm, waiting, predator now was her best mental impression. She herself had suffered…too much…at the hands of mad Darksiders, and Ventress was…

Aayla wasn't sure. But it was better than what the witch was before, and that was…a positive her mind working a thousand problems even as she spun her TIE, two others coming in to kill the enemy trying to kill her, her shields reduced by half in the engagement. But that was what they were for as Aayla, kicked on the power, turning the controls as they danced ever closer into the collapsing enemy battlefleet. There was a detachment too, somehow, the deaths rolling off her unlike in other battles, fuelling and flowing away to the darkness swirling at the edge of the 'pool' of light. From the feeling of Knight Tano's excitable eagerness mixed with frustration at the heart of the storm with the Stormcrow, to Knight Offee's calm meditation as she awaited the casualties to come.

This was…

Training. Terrible, bloody, live fire training Aayla could tell, looking through the Force as another Grysk died, dozens upon dozens of Venators, Venator knock offs, and other capitals around the Stormcrow smashed into the heart of the Grysk formation. A wall of firepower and death as lives were traded for time here and now. Daron, the vaguely odd padawan Aayla somewhat could recall was long gone, and now there was no need to hide anymore. For this was the Stormcrow, and this was all readying for a stand against the Separatists…and perhaps what would emerge after all of this. Aayla did not like it…but what was emerging was all that was left.

She thumbed her controls. Another Grysk died.

To fight for a future, and to ensure it was not a Darker one than it had to be….

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[17 BBY]

[Command Bridge, Eriadu Authority Venerable-class Star Destroyer Turbulent, Republic 2nd Fleet, Reconstituted 2nd Fleet Staging Area, in orbit Christophsis, Christoph System, Savareen System, Outer Rim Territories, on the Corellian Run Hyperlane]

"Captain Pellaeon" Lucas Geen, Moff in charge of the reconstituted (Eriadu Authority) Republic Second Fleet, greeted his fellow human as he came unto the bridge of the Turbulent "Welcome aboard"

The Corellian gave a salute "Moff Geen, Sir!"

"At ease, now, come, this way" Lucas gestured as he had one of his subordinates as he brought to the other man to the 'ready room' tactical displays where the privacy screens could be "Time, unfortunately, is against us"

"Yes, unfortunately, Sir, as is much" the other man agreed following Lucas and then going to the other side of the tactical table as Lucas thumbed the basic screens that'd suppress sound and 'shimmer' to make lip reading impossible. Gilad Pellaeon was one of the Core military caught on the 'wrong side' of the advance by the Seppies, and Lucas suspected due to…politics most likely as the man was Corellian, and had a Victory-class Star Destroyer at the time of Coruscant Coup. Something that had tended to be Chancellorist in inclination despite the man, and most of his crew, clones included, staying loyal to the Republic.

'Or…our allied faction part of it' Lucas thought for a moment, feeling exhausted for a moment. Politics. Loyalties. Everything had been so much easier at that start of the war "Oh, that is indeed the case captain with this Separatist grand offensive grinding its way forward. Though it is good to see another officer in our colours I admit"

The man gave a prompt nod. He and has crew, along with many of those 'left behind' had grasped the situation, at least the smarter ones, and had 'changed sides' as it were. Not that 'changing sides' was a significant problem in theory as Grand Moff Tarkin was loyal to the 'rightful' government on Corusacant. In truth it was much more of choice than that, and Lucas had been desperately trying to integrate these units as best he could. Just as he was having to integrate his damaged Second Fleet with the Seventh Fleet after coming up from Ryloth to reinforce this position.

Pellaeon gave a crisp nod, all professional at the least "My crew feels the same Sir, and I expect we have a mission due to this"

"No. You have a mission because of the nature of your vessel I'm afraid" Lucas stated bringing up the star charts for his command sectors. Far too many angry CIS icons were on it now "As you've no doubt heard the Seppies have driven our space forces from Rodia and Geonosis"

The captain gave a nod as Lucas tapped his fingers at the recently lost systems "Sieges have commenced on the planet bound forces…"

Lucas detailed the situation, but in truth it was far simpler; the local forces were not to allow the droid or tank foundries to be retaken by the Confederacy under any circumstances. For several years now those droid foundries had been churning our droid armies, now they had been entrenched behind many, many, months' worth of defences being deployed. There was no doubt in Lucas mind that those worlds would fall, just Chardaan, Boomis Koori, and Woostri would be overwhelmed, but…

He tapped the surrounding sectors "We need to delay their supply convoys if at all possible, and there are reports of Republic forces lingering in region, even if allegiance is to other factions. If we can find them, if they exist, it would help to try bring them here to resupply and refit. Amesty and Truce is granted"

Captain Pellaeon gave a nod, studying the map "Recon and raid?"

Lucas nodded "Yes, hit and run, only engage if you have superiority. To be frank, this will be a dangerous mission, and your Victory-class is a tempting target. It will attract attention and draw CIS forces away from the advance. But, critically, your existence as raiding squadron in being is more valuable than taking damage in overly aggressive raids. You'll have a number of hyper capable starfighers and Y-Wings to achieve that, even if it is essential you be seen"

"My force composition?" he asked after a moment, and Lucas brought up the various vessels, handing the man the data-pad as the vessels appeared on the holo-display.

"You'll have a Venator for direct support, along with ten light escorts, four of which are our newer closer escort vessels. Pick some gunships, we have a number, and you'll also be given five retrofitted aggressive reconnaissance light craft"

At the start of the war, it would have been a powerful fleet…now it was merely a strong raiding force, as long as it avoided any major engagements. Pellaeon nodded after a few moments after studying both the ships and the target sectors "Most systems are still disputed?"

"For now, we still have sensor nets outside the primaries" Lucas agreed motioning "We will have a number of other squadrons as well, but buy us as much time as you can before you retreat"

Christophsis would fall, mass of mine fields, asteroids filled with powerplants for grav-projectors and all the other, often ancient, equipment they'd pulled out to ensure this system was….in the way as it were. The Seppies would have to neutralise the Christoph system, just like there were going to have to neutralise Malastare and Vondarc for the same reasons. Unfortunately, they had the numbers to do that…

Eventually. Lucas turned his head back to the displays. Zsinj was busy reconstituting her Third Fleet, and Stormcrow's Fifth was also being recalled and reinforced. They'd need that he knew, as either the hammer blow would fall on Eriadu-Sullust, or on the more exposed Naboo-Enarc-Ryndellia Sectors. It was a race now, between how much more logistics the Seppies had to keep going, and how much of his own reserves they had to spend…

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