A few hundred people had gathered on a square in Torren's Landing for a commemoration. While relatively inconsequential, the history of the “Last stand at Corven Ridge” is known among the general populace of Torren’s Landing. An entire company wiped out, holding off Republic assailants awaiting reinforcements that tragically came too late.
The broadcast saw Neekai'até take the stage and speak to the grieving crowd.
“I did not liberate this world. I do not bear the scars and have no right to the grief in the square today. All I know is from the stories told by those who do. I will not stand here and pretend I share in the sorrow, but I would rather say something true.”
“Your ancestors settled on this planet because they could see potential in its mineral-rich ground. A civilisation was able to flourish because of their dedication to make it happen. From the Lommite mines to the lumberyards. When eventually the Empire came to liberate you from the Republic, that attitude resulted in salvation.”
“Years ago now. I was not here for it. Yet I have walked this city since, and I have read what it cost, and learnt that a world is kept whole by those who refused to let it fall apart when the fighting started, and after it was over.”
“That is what makes not only Zula IV what it is today, but the entire Dominion we live in. Nowhere in the galaxy have I encountered a people with a will this resilient. To work the shift when the bombs are close enough to hear. To keep a mine running, a wall standing, a family fed, through times that gave you every reason to stop. That will is not in all people.”
“It is in yours. It is the plain fact why you are standing here tonight to hear me speak at all. Lesser worlds would have broken, but yours didn’t. The reason is standing in this square, in its good coat, in the cold.”
“Which brings me, at last, to those who are not standing in it.”
“They were your sons and daughters, fathers and mothers, and when they were told to hold the line, they did. After fighting tooth and nail against their assailants, reinforcements came too late. They are the proof of everything I have just told you. They are what will looks like when it is asked for everything at once. They stood tall when the Empire asked it of them. And here we are as a testament that their last stand was not in vain.”
“They are what the Dominion is made of. And every one of you still on your feet in this cold, who kept this world alive with your hands and your stubbornness to not be the one who broke, so are you. Carry that as they carried it.”
The Twi'lek stepped back at that note, allowing the words to sink into the silent crowd. What followed was another, reading a list of the fallen soldiers in alphabetical order.
The broadcast saw Neekai'até take the stage and speak to the grieving crowd.
“I did not liberate this world. I do not bear the scars and have no right to the grief in the square today. All I know is from the stories told by those who do. I will not stand here and pretend I share in the sorrow, but I would rather say something true.”
“Your ancestors settled on this planet because they could see potential in its mineral-rich ground. A civilisation was able to flourish because of their dedication to make it happen. From the Lommite mines to the lumberyards. When eventually the Empire came to liberate you from the Republic, that attitude resulted in salvation.”
“Years ago now. I was not here for it. Yet I have walked this city since, and I have read what it cost, and learnt that a world is kept whole by those who refused to let it fall apart when the fighting started, and after it was over.”
“That is what makes not only Zula IV what it is today, but the entire Dominion we live in. Nowhere in the galaxy have I encountered a people with a will this resilient. To work the shift when the bombs are close enough to hear. To keep a mine running, a wall standing, a family fed, through times that gave you every reason to stop. That will is not in all people.”
“It is in yours. It is the plain fact why you are standing here tonight to hear me speak at all. Lesser worlds would have broken, but yours didn’t. The reason is standing in this square, in its good coat, in the cold.”
“Which brings me, at last, to those who are not standing in it.”
“They were your sons and daughters, fathers and mothers, and when they were told to hold the line, they did. After fighting tooth and nail against their assailants, reinforcements came too late. They are the proof of everything I have just told you. They are what will looks like when it is asked for everything at once. They stood tall when the Empire asked it of them. And here we are as a testament that their last stand was not in vain.”
“They are what the Dominion is made of. And every one of you still on your feet in this cold, who kept this world alive with your hands and your stubbornness to not be the one who broke, so are you. Carry that as they carried it.”
The Twi'lek stepped back at that note, allowing the words to sink into the silent crowd. What followed was another, reading a list of the fallen soldiers in alphabetical order.