Sine Spenning’s smooth voice, grave and achingly professional, came over the speakers. Rhil killed it so they didn’t get feedback when she replied.

“We are joined now by GoNet’s very own Rhil Dairo, who is on the scene. Rhil, first things first—are you safe?”

Rhil tried to speak, but a lump formed in her throat as she stood transfixed by the footage of the wrecked park.

“Rhil? Can you hear me?”

“I … I can hear you. Sorry, Sine, it’s … well, it’s been quite a day.”

“I’m sure it has. These pictures are devastating. Can you talk us through what we’re seeing?”

Talk them through? What was there to say? What was that old phrase? A holo tells a thousand words?

In this case, the holo was nothing short of heartbreaking. A fleet of Longbeams had arrived, bringing more reinforcements, but on the ground buildings were smashed, rubble strewn across broken walkways. Wrecked fighters lay in smoking craters, while the bodies … the bodies were everywhere.

Rhil was talking, but had no idea if her words made any sense. She didn’t want to be in here, little more than a spectator. She wanted to be out there where it mattered, helping those who were trapped or worse, the wounded and the lost, lying in the dirt. As she talked, T-9’s cam focused on the image of a small child wandering the once-glorious Republic Avenue, a stuffed toy clutched to its chest, tears rolling down grimy cheeks. A sob escaped Rhil’s throat. OrbaLin’s gloved hand appeared at her shoulder, a sense of calm radiating from the Jedi. She brushed it away. She didn’t want to be calm. She wanted to experience the moment in all its rawness. She needed to experience it.

“Rhil,” Sine asked over the comm. “Do you need to take a minute?”

She brushed a tear away. “No. I’m good.”

“We would totally understand. I cannot imagine the trauma you must have endured.”

“Really. I want people to see this. I want them to know what it’s like.”

“Of course. And what of the Jedi?”

“What about them?”

“We’ve yet to see any evidence of them at work on the footage. Are they—”

“One’s here with me right now. Archivist OrbaLin of Starlight Beacon. He saved my life. The Jedi … the Jedi fought bravely to keep everyone as safe as they could.”

“Ah, yes—” Sine interrupted, safe from his studio half a galaxy away. “We can see some now—an Ikkrukki and a Mirialan. Do you know their names?”

She said that she didn’t, apologizing as if it were important when what really mattered was what was unfurling on screen, the Jedi attempting to pull an unmoving Gungan from a collapsed ride. Who cared what the Jedi were called? The important thing was that they were here, trying to hold back the horror.