me: *decides to look at new kpop groups* me: *jammin* me: *scrolls down to see comments* person 1: omg i can’t believe im actually older than someone person 2: omg i know its the first time i am too person 3: yeah it’s so weird i was born in 2002 me:
Bail Organa sighed heavily, and massaged his temples tiredly. It had been at least thirty-six standard hours since he had last slept, possibly longer—in the flurry of frantic activity after the birth of the twins, Padmé’s death, and the rushed flight from Polis Massa, keeping careful record of the last time he had slept had not been at the top of his priority list—and he was beginning to truly feel the effects of the long hours awake. Closing his eyes, the senator allowed both of his hands to fall to the desktop with a quiet thud, his chin drooping to rest on his chest.
His exhaustion ran deeper than mere lack of sleep, however. The last week had been one terrible, horrifying nightmare—and Bail knew it was only the beginning of the darkness. The future stretched out before them, and for the first time, Bail found that he could not see how the next day, the next week, the next month would be shaped. The dance of politics that had wielded the galaxy, shaping and molding, was no more. The puppeteer’s strings had been cut. Now there was only a twisting, confusing mass of tangled knots and empty, fluttering strings. Now there was a new puppet master, and all the rules had changed.
So much is lost, he thought despairingly. Amidala. The Jedi. The Republic. And there would be more death in the days to come. More sorrow. More tragedy. More fire and blood and the shattering of hope. How did it come to this? How did we fall so far, so quickly?
“Not so quickly,” a quiet voice whispered in his thoughts. “The first cracks were visible years ago, the rot growing right beneath your nose. But none of saw it; all of you were blind. Even you. Especially you.”