Why We Fight (Galactic Alliance)

[Cathul Thuku]

Speaking of first aid station, Cathul was swiftly required there for a trauma incurred by another Squib worker nearby since she was one of those few medics that could fit inside the first aid station of the Blastport. Not that work ceased in and of itself, just that work slowed down a little bit around where the Squib used to work on the floorings. Some areas suffered serious floor damage, and the surviving Squibs working to rebuild the floor decided to just put the damaged pieces of the floor in a pile for it to be collected once the ferry returns, having since realized that the Lothal was best kept on the surface with auxiliary craft sent to the Salvagestuff Platform. For now, anyway, Cathul realizes that the patient broke an arm and suffered a laceration in the process. In other words, an open fracture. So she proceeds to numb the afflicted arm and to then stabilize the arm prior to making an attempt to stimulate the Squib's healing using a Force-splint, which held the in place and then stimulate the growth of the bone tissue.

"How long until the waste barge takes off?" the patient asked, with his right arm being numbed, with his eyes in the direction of an AT-AT barge being loaded with rubble from various locations around the spaceport.

"About 20 minutes"

 

[Jaius Sovv]

"By the Force, they're actually doing it," the human aide beside his gasped, a look of horror plastered on her face as she did so, "They're actually going to line them up and shoot them right in Victory Square."

Whatever reaction President Sovv had been expecting from the First Order to their defeat at Skor, it certainly had not been this.

The day had already been a long and tense one, as the diminutive elderly Sullustan found himself in security council session after session, and in meetings with a variety of representatives from planets all throughout the Federation. But when one of his staffers had burst into his office just as he was about to finally call it a day and relayed the unbelievable news, all sense of fatigued seemed to evaporate from his old bones in an instant. Jaius had rushed out to join all the others in the offices to stare up at the holoreel slack jawed, eyes wide in terror and disgust. All around the Alliance, those who had acquired means access to the distant First Order's public feeds watched in varying levels of shock as the men and women displayed before them solemnly drew their lots.

"I can't watch, oh gods I can't-" the younger woman standing next to him turned her face away and cried out, sobbing as the first shots were fired and the first line of bodies fell, "What kind of monsters..."

"They're making them shoot each other," Jaius breathed, astounded at the kind of depraved thinking it must have taken to come up with that ingenious torture device, "Their own friends."

And none of them had likely even given the order. None of them had been responsible.

Hand trembling as his grip on the hovercane that kept him upright weakened, the President of the Sullustan Council leaned on the stick heavily. Emotions roiled through him, everything from disgust to fear, no doubt all feelings calculatedly designed by the First Order's propaganda machine to be elicited in him by the display. But he also felt something, deep down, underneath the revulsion of the moment at such a televised mass shooting. For the first time in many months, their Imperial neighbors had brought out in a feeling in him in short supply since their war machine had begun to roll over the Alliance's southwest.

Hope.

Unless they were truly programmed since birth, such criminally tyrannical behavior could not be universally supported among the First Order's people. Even if Jaius' people should fall, and these authoritarian zealots covered all the galaxy in a second darkness, there would still be hope.

For Rebellion. For Resistance. For the Alliance.

 

[Cathul Thuku]

20 minutes later, Cathul proceeds to place a cast around the broken Squib arm, knowing that usage of Force-healing does not excuse a patient from requiring other stuff like casts or similar. Meanwhile, the rubble collected from other areas of the ruined city was being herded inside the AT-AT barge en route for the Metrobig Salvagestuff Platform. The Squib are going to be grateful for this, for IGR's involvement on Skor II until Therapy Command goes on the offensive: Kro Var or Manpha are going to be the main foci of medvac for receiving casualties, she thought, while Therapy Command's involvement in the Ison Corridor was in the cards for this operation to take the offensive, as announced by the Alliance High Command; from Cathul's standpoint, if the GA wins in the Anoat sector, then the implication is that they could recapture the Mustafar sector from the First Order: also, the First Order is ecpected to recall much of its forces in the Mustafar sector in the defense of the Anoat sector (called by the Alliance authorities the Hoth sector).

"It will get better now, and rebuilding stuff on Skor is going to be the calm before the storm"

"What do you mean, the calm before the storm?" another medic asked.

"Soon, we will have to move out of here and into the Ison Corridor"

 

[Isar Kislo]

Isar arched a curious brow at his father's rapid fire delivery of information prior to just...leaving. Blue eyes tracked the man's departure, but once [member="Aeron Kreelan"] started raving about Marcello's actions, Isar redirected his gaze to her. This dude...

As Aeron snapped at him not to stay put and not touch anything, Isar chuckled lightly to himself. Must have been a thing between Marcello Matteo and tall blonde women. While that situation developed out in the corridor, Isar glanced at the comm which had clearly connected. The Admiral huh? Well, can't very well keep the Admiral waiting.

Stepping forward, Isar sat on the edge of the desk and picked up the handset to the communicator after taking it off speaker. In his best imitation, which was fantastic, of his sister Loske, Isar responded. "Thank you, please put the Admiral on."

Isar was positive of two things. Aeron Kreelan did not sound like Loske Matson, and Aeron was going to be real pissed about this. A roguish grin slipped across his features. In that moment he probably looked more like his father than ever.

----

Marcello had just stepped into a lift at the end of the corridor when Aeron came out of her office after him. Depressing a button to take him back down to the ground level, he flashed his own roguish grin at the woman before winking playfully at the woman. "Good luck," were the only words he offered as the doors slid closed.

 

[Cathul Thuku]

While the AT-AT barge (only the regulatory authorities called it something other than an AT-AT barge) was much faster to load - and unload - the amount of time it took the Lothal to get back from the Salvagestuff Platform began to be worrisome. Might be best to just use the AT-AT barge for ferrying the rubble, she thought, while all the patients in the first aid station were being taken care of. In the meantime, night was setting in the Blastport region and work has slowed down considerably. For now anyway, the barge has returned for the next batch of rubble to go through the Salvagestuff Platform. Also, on the AT-AT barge's cockpit, sensors registered the reversion of the Excubitor. Which meant that repairs on that ship were finally over, even though it meant that its new shakedown cruise led it to Skor. After all that time, after Kaeshana, where it has been her flag, Cathul wondered when will repairs on that battlecruiser end.

"Admiral, you're next to board the barge" the pilot of the barge informed Cathul.

"Why? Has deployment time arrived?"

"Yes, admiral, we are to form up in the Ison Corridor. Currently this is T-6 hours"