skin, bone, and arrogance
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b8bWjjc-pG8
Avalonia - Dosuun
2 WEEKS AFTER KAESHANA
Even the Siege of Dosuun had not changed the character of Avalonia as much as the declaration of war.
Certainly, the Siege had changed the city's face -- the skyline altered where the battles had knocked buildings to the ground, and a hideous black-brown scar of earth tore through the center of Victory & Memorial Park where a Ssi-Ruuk vessel had crashed. The physical effects of the Siege were still being seen and felt, but the First Order's resounding victory against the alien invaders had given the citizens who had survived the Siege some measure of closure. Moreover, the attack by the aliens had occurred so quickly that there had been no time to prepare -- physically or mentally -- for most citizens. By the time it happened it, they had been confronted with the ugly reality of it. They had missed out on the romanticism of war.
Not so, this time around.
News broadcasts were still showing sensationalized reports from Kaeshana and snippets from Natasi's televised speech in which the First Order declared war against the Galactic Alliance. Even before Kaeshana, this had been a war that had long been in the making. It was not propaganda to frame the Galactic Alliance as the aggressors in the conflict. Their rank hypocrisy aside, they had done everything in their power to instigate war, while Natasi had done everything in her power to stop it, from yanking the leashes of the military establishment to persuading the Supreme Leader to allow diplomatic processes to work their magic.
It wasn't that Natasi was a pacifist, though she was surely against any war that was not entirely necessary. She had witnessed the human cost of war too close to home to be casual about it. Her brother Mathes had been enthusiastic about going off to fight for the Empire, more than a decade ago. His eyes had shone with the brilliance of anticipation; he had been barely more than a child then, full of confidence and the certitude that he would slay the enemy and earn praise and accolades for himself and his family. He died a horrible and painful death during his first engagement, because war wasn't like the sims or the holos. There was no protagonist's armor, because everyone was a protagonist and because war was ugly and messy and terrible -- not glorious.
She saw the same look in the eyes of the men -- boys, really -- that she passed on her way out of the Imperial Palace. The Ministry of Defense had a recruiting station right there in the square, all the better for propagandizing. The line routinely wound around the square, with more and more coming. They ranged in age, Natasi thought as she descended the wide stairway to the square, from mere boys and girls to men and women in their forties, but the majority of them were young. Young men and women, full of the nervous excitement of patriotic fervor, eager to prove themselves, to shed blood -- their own and Alliance terrorists' -- for the glory of the Supreme Leader and their own Grand Moff. It wasn't just the people enlisting. The entire city seemed to be abuzz with jingoistic excitement about the war. Advertisements for war bonds, war effort volunteering, and auxiliary forces were springing up everywhere. Patriotic posters -- quite separate and apart from the propaganda being pumped out by the Ministry of Culture -- were plastered all over the city.
It was quite encouraging, Natasi thought, but also a little bit sad. They were eager to jump into this war with both feet. Had they considered the cost?
Flanked as she was by her bodyguards, Natasi was easy to spot. She didn't try to hide herself -- much to her bodyguards' chagrin -- because she needed to be seen. She wanted her people to see her, to shake her hand or get an autograph. So many of the people in this line were going to die -- in a week or a month or a year -- and they were going to die, at least in part, because she asked them to. This might be one of their last happy memories. Didn't she owe it to them, when the cost was so little? And here, on Avalonia, with security so tight and patriotic fervor running so high, with Natasi being more popular than ever, she felt no fear for her safety. And so, it took nearly an hour to traverse the square, stopping to speak with the people lined up to enlist, shaking hands, exchanging words of encouragement.
Natasi was taken aback to discovered that the people there were insistent in offering her words of encouragement. She was on her last group -- a middle-aged couple there with their recently-graduated son -- and the young man had clasped her hand gratefully, pumped it enthusiastically as Natasi wished him well. "Thank you, Ma'am. Thank you very much. Would you -- ma'am, would you tell the Supreme Leader we light a candle for him every day? We light a candle for you, too, say our prayers for the pair of you."
"Thank you, yes, I will," Natasi said, offering him a tired smile. "Just -- be careful. Just come home." She released his hand and turned; the limousine was just a few meters away now, and she wanted desperately to climb into it and hold something cold in her aching and swollen hand, but something stopped her. She took a step back towards the family. "I'm sorry, can I ask you something? You're about to sign up for military service, and war has been declared. You must be tremendously worried about your own safety -- and yet, you made it a point to say you were praying for the Supreme Leader -- and for me?"
"Yes ma'am," said the young man. "We've only got ourselves to worry about, but you and His Leadership -- well, you've got the whole country on your backs, haven't you? Seems like you need the good thoughts just as much."
Natasi studied the young man for a moment and then cleared her suddenly-lumpy throat. "Thank you," she said and grasped his forearm. "Thank you so much. Good luck to you."
"Force be with you, ma'am," the mother said, and the father and son repeated it. Natasi returned the greeting and finally turned to the car. She sat down in the back, but before her bodyguard could shut the door, she held out one of her business cards. "Would you mind, please, giving this to that family? Ask them to call me tomorrow." When the door shut, the driver asked if he should take her to Number 10, as per usual. "Yes." A beat. "Actually, would you please take me to the Temple?"
