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2024-11-13 20:08I'm reading a Star Wars novel called Black Spire by Delilah S. Dawson, and this passage felt particularly... relevant.
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"The First Order?" Dolin asked. "I heard they weren't even real. Just people wearing old Imperial costumes to frighten children."
At that, Vi sat forward and pinned him with a dizzy but firm glare. "The First Order is very real. They blew up the Galactic Senate on Hosnian Prime. They blew up the entire Hosnian system. I lost friends in the cataclysm. I saw the rubble left behind. And if they're on this planet now, you're going to want to stay out of their way. Believe me. I know."
"If the First Order is real, they would never come here," the old woman said knowingly, shaking her head for emphasis. Her earlier good mood had fled. "There's nothing here they want. We're a quiet place. Mind our own business. Not like those rich planets. Not like Coruscant." Her nose wrinkled up as she said it.
Vi closed her eyes, her head in her hands.
That's what everyone always believes. It won't happen to us. We don't look for trouble. We're not doing anything wrong. We're not important enough. That's what the skittermouse says to itself as the ebon hawk glides overhead, right up until it feels the chill of shadow and bite of talons.
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"The First Order?" Dolin asked. "I heard they weren't even real. Just people wearing old Imperial costumes to frighten children."
At that, Vi sat forward and pinned him with a dizzy but firm glare. "The First Order is very real. They blew up the Galactic Senate on Hosnian Prime. They blew up the entire Hosnian system. I lost friends in the cataclysm. I saw the rubble left behind. And if they're on this planet now, you're going to want to stay out of their way. Believe me. I know."
"If the First Order is real, they would never come here," the old woman said knowingly, shaking her head for emphasis. Her earlier good mood had fled. "There's nothing here they want. We're a quiet place. Mind our own business. Not like those rich planets. Not like Coruscant." Her nose wrinkled up as she said it.
Vi closed her eyes, her head in her hands.
That's what everyone always believes. It won't happen to us. We don't look for trouble. We're not doing anything wrong. We're not important enough. That's what the skittermouse says to itself as the ebon hawk glides overhead, right up until it feels the chill of shadow and bite of talons.
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