"You weren't." Voldon pursed his lips, Jungze taking a cross legged seated position up against a nearby wall and leaning her head against the chilly surface. 
"It's Bracknell. It has to be." 
"We can't jump to conclusions, Malu." Jungze scowled at the Battlemaster, her head nodding towards the galaxy map in the center of the room. 
"That map is going to light up with his forces sooner rather than later and don't you tell me otherwise. Blaster fire? Hyperdrive engines roaring to life? Screams of the dying and the dead? Lightsabers hissing? We may have all heard it in differing amounts, but we can't ignore the fact that we shared the same vision. The Force is warning us to take action." Matt emerged, his face a ghastly pallor. 
"I assume...I assume we're all gathered here because of what we just saw?" Nods from his colleagues all but confirmed his fears.
"Then Bracknell will be here soon..." Matt bit his upper lip before cursing. 
"We're not ready for this. The younglings we have won't be able to handle the massive amount of resistance, we can only be stretched so thin and-"
"Matt." Voldon shot him a glare before adding:
"We've been working tirelessly for the past six months knowing this day would come. We set all of our plans, all our ideas into motion and hope that it'll be enough." Voldon then turned his attention to Roan. 
"You told us that if we could strike at Bracknell, use the carnage of the battle down below to sneak our way up to his ship and kill him. If we do this, the amount of influence he's exerting should decline and we might have a chance at winning the fight against the Alliance...still believe that? If so, tell us your plan. We'll need it." 

_______

Confusion entered the expressions of the prisoners who were escorted off the shuttle by fast moving hangar workers, telling them to follow them as quickly as they could. The hangar itself was crowded with a hodgepodge of mechanics and technicians doing their best to service the shuttles and two larger ships that their resistance had captured. Sirens blared from makeshift posts in the ground just outside the open hangar, troopers and agents alike scrambling in and out of the main base, weapons in hand, others shouting into their comm units. 
"What..." Abbeth's voice commanded the duo to get to the briefing area, a small staging room off the right of the main hall. Complying with the directive, Yerbol and Aria found themselves in the heart of an even busier and stressed command center. Orders were being issued from various agents and persons that were appointed over different "departments" within the complex. The galaxy map in the center console revealed very quickly what the fuss was all about.
"Ari, that looks like a fleet." He pointed to the growing assembly of dots that were careening towards their location, flashes of red and blue text indicating that their incoming speed was well over two hundred miles an hour. 

Bracknell. 

Neta emerged from the staging room and motioned vehemently to follow her. As they entered, they found the council, Neta and Elara standing around a similar console to the one in the command center that projected a galaxy map, this one zoomed in on Zinuthra. 
"He brought a fargin fleet." Neta whispered, arms folded across her chest. 
"Thirty ships and counting." Elara added, her tone laced with morbid concern. 
"How can they travel that fast?" Matt mused, the fleet's average speed displayed in the upper right hand corner of the screen. Silence sunk heavily into the room. 

"We didn't lead them back here...did we?" Yerbol asked hesitantly, choosing to break the seemingly eternal quiet. 
"Bracknell knew we were here six months ago. He could've attacked whenever he wished, but more than likely wanted to amass enough power before taking us head on." 
"Just like him to hide behind the strength of others." Jungze added, upper lip curling in disgust. 
"So...that's it, then? We're going to war?" 
"And winning it." Neta confidently asserted. 
"Not without a plan, of course. You all know we've been planning for a guerrilla war, one that would involve spreading the troops of the Alliance thin enough to where we can isolate pockets of resistance so we can have a fighting chance. We're already setting the stage for that, but will need some atmospheric help..." Jungze smiled.
"The young ones and I are ready." 
"Right. So Jungze and the younger Force users are going to be hunkered in the main complex as they mess with the atmosphere above, giving us a chance at diverting some of the bigger ships away from dropping too many troopers down at one time. We have squadrons heading out now to make camp in the wilderness, try to hopefully intercept the wandering Alliance troopers before they can regroup. From there...well, we've got energy shields around this place and the hangar along with turrets and manned grenade launchers on both sides of the compound. That's going to have to do...Roan, could you please explain to me how that's all we'll need for this? Cause on paper, it looks like we're going to get slaughtered."