Log:Hutt Cartel: Nelkar II: Into the Breach
The Hutt Cartel begins to take back what's theirs.
OOC Date: July 8, 2022
Location: Nelkar II
Participants: Amal Jha, Fshmaw, Borgol the Hutt as GM, Lera Orr, Snogrutt, Hutt Cartell, Mazijik Kajidic
[ Borgol the Hutt]
Some time ago Nelkar II had fallen into the hands of rebellious slaves. A Hutt Lord barbarically slain, along with a great deal of the Hutt's entourage; the slaves soon established their own rule over the moon of Nelkar II and more importantly the fueling station that the small moon supports on the fringe of Hutt Space. The Hutt Cartel has thus far taken steps to ensure the blockade of the planet, though a smuggler or three has slipped in or out of that blockade since it began.
The new leaders of Nelkar II have thus far refused to negotiate, citing the simple reasoning that they know - or at least believe - that no negotiations with the Hutts will be made in genuine good faith.
As a result the current landlords of Nelkar II have been provided time to dig in, establish defenses upon the moon, and have been armed by the armories and coffers of a slain Hutt Lord. What were previously malnourished rebels armed with rudimentary tools and weapons? Have since become slightly less malnourished, heavily armed and vengeful freedom fighters.
The Hutt Cartel has thus far been reluctant to bombard the moon; not out of compassion, but profits. The refueling station and its support facilities were of far greater value intact, than decimated. Therefore the landing parties of the Hutt Cartel launch from space and glide into the moon's thin atmosphere, intent on taking the moon back meter by meter until the facilities are back under the influence of the Hutt Cartel.
The landing barges which ferry troops and equipment through the thin atmosphere rock and tremble with the descent, even as defense emplacements open up with sporadic and largely ineffective fire on the approaching landing ships.
[ Amal Jha]
Amal had been requested, and so, the Echani had settled herself into position in the cockpit of the ship for the approach. Perhaps it behooved the smuggler to see what the defenses were, to find the weak points that could be exploited for movement in and out of the planet. Or, perhaps she had simply wanted a view of the end of her days, as the ship did what its pilot could do to evade the surface to air fire. Whatever the reason, she arrived at the ramp only a few moments before the point of contact, drawing her rapier and settling it easily into her hand.
[ Snogrutt]
The darkness of the landing ship reeks of sweat, cigarettes and fear. Many of the mercenaries suck hard on those little cancer sticks, the glowing tips doing just enough to show the faces. So many species, so many types. The nervous ones are the most amusing to the one Gamorrean in back. It's always their first battle, he can tell. The nervous twitch of their lips, the frantic looking around, fumbling with their weapons. They probably signed up to the Cartel thinking it would be all alcohol and women, and they wouldn't have to do any REAL fighting!
Snogrutt exhales, his pungent breath turning a few faces of those around him. The muscled veteran elbows his way forward, snorting with derision, "rhaefer fadewaetoo adorh kosa, akaethae, ma ghevaethie ajuw ur ma oomapijyf..." He pauses next to the quivering newbie, smiling down at him, "ghiethivoow ghevaethie lae!" he squeals with delight, grasping his axe with both hands as he plods foward, pushing and shoving, "ghiethivoow eapeadaefa thaa ywerhaadif! ghiethivoow eapeadaefa thaa ywerhaadif!" he bellows, getting right up to the landing ramp, reading to be the first off! He's excited! Bouncing on his heels, raring to go! [Language: Gamorrean]
[ Snogrutt]
5P-KR (3P0 Unit 9872) repeats after Snogrutt, "Out of my way, bitches, let the real warrior lead you... Time to die! Snogrutt is in front! Snogrutt is in front!"
[ Fshmaw]
Fshmaw, ensconced among his 'fellow sardines,' tries not to lose his lunch at the lurching and rattling of the shuttle's descent. He keeps his head down, checks and re-checks the level of his power cells, and occasionally looks for familiar faces. "Don't worry, he gives the same speech every time!" follows the *click-hum* of his belt's translator making sense of the scream/howl lilting of unfiltered Aqualish.
[ Borgol the Hutt]
Heavy thuds sound off within the landing ship's hull as incoming fire from the landing bays of Nelkar II graze or impact the hull of the thick-hulled landing craft. While the landing craft themselves lack in substantial armament, they are sturdy and designed to take a beating. This is specifically intended to increase the likelihood of their cargo - in this case a host of Cartel killers - are disgorged on the enemy's doorstep. Surely one or two of the landing barges burn up and plummet to the barren surface of Nelkar II, but the majority are able to metaphorically trudge their way through the volume of fire that begins to gradually rise up to meet the incoming Cartel forces.
A few unprepared new recruits look to Snogrutt and grimace, fear evident upon their features. Cowardice wasn't likely to get them far though, so at the confidence and bravado on display by the Gamorrean's manner. Along with the reassurance from the Aqualish that is Fshmaw and the belt-housed translator that offers some reassurance. They begin to find a little more durasteel within their spines.
The co-pilot of the landing barge informs Amal Jha of their impending landing, commenting in Huttese with a brief glance in the woman-in-white's direction, "Sensors are picking up energy screens in the landing bay. They've got defensive positions set up," the co-pilot informs before returning his attention to the approach.
The landing barge begins to drift. Turning abruptly and sharply in order to turn itself around and face the boarding ramp away from potential attackers in the interest of providing those disembarking with a little extra cover before tossing them into incoming fire.
The boarding ramp abruptly drops, clanging to the deck of the landing bay with a resounding clang of durasteel on durasteel. Already the sound of blaster fire can be heard from outside the landing craft. Other ships touch down and they too drop their ramps, which begin to pour Cartel fighters from their innards.
The landing bay is an expansive field, interrupted by defensive positions. Some of those positions are more rudimentary than others; stacks of barrels, crates, and other similar landing bay debris. Scattered throughout the bay, arrayed to provide defensive positions are small energy shield screens that may offer cover to a pair of standard human-sized fighters to hide behind. Not only do they hide behind those shields for cover, but also fight from behind them too.
While the landing craft provide a great deal of cover? The sheer amount of incoming blaster fire from the landing bay's defenders increases the probability that even a grazing bolt or two will find their way through the metaphorical armor.
[ Amal Jha]
"Thank you." Someone who was not the Echani might have patted the pilot on the shoulder before she took her leave. "We'll take it from here." And then, it was time to disembark and Amal hopped down, hitting the ground running, the white of her suit, the flow of her duster stark as she ignited the rapier, crimson red splashing over brilliant white as she waded into the first group, cutting down one, though she missed as the shield was adjusted to protect the two now hiding behind it.
[ Snogrutt]
As, more or less, first off the boat, it is only proper for Snogrutt to take the first hit! 'BWAGH!' he bellows, taking a step back as the blast hits him in the shoulder. "ytugaghugh ghevaethie lae daevoogiw ghiethivoow zoos!" he howls, lumbering forward. Gamorreans may be simple minded, but not when tactics are concerned. Waddling forward to take cover, the Veteran reaches to his harness, taking out a smoke grenade. Having already primed the pin, Snogrutt bites down on it, tugging the pin loose and twisting his head, making a show of spitting it out before hurling the grenade towards one of the larger bunkers, the one he wants to attack!
The smoke grenade sputters in the air, leaving a thin trail of white smoke before it lands atop the bunker, beginning to spew its heavy cloud of smoke, obscuring the bunker and everyone inside! Now that the bunker can't shoot back as easily, Snogrutt rises up, "ivu as oomapijyf on, oomapijyf noosaazutie ghevaethie daevoogiw vooth!?" he howls, waddling forward, moving as fast as he can over the broken terrain. Snogrutt shows a remarkable level of agility as he easily lops off the arm of one of the armed rebels, moving past to continue his assault on the smoke-shrouded bunker. [Language: Gamorrean]
[ Fshmaw]
Fshmaw follows in the shade of a screaming Gamorrean, picking his targets by looking for the ones his group doesn't finish off-- whether that's efficiency or heartlessness depends on which side of the blaster you're on, perhaps. Fshmaw tends to favor light arms, concealable things, and appears fond of flash suppressors and snapfire mods. Quick, decisive and final, no fuss!
[ Borgol the Hutt]
The Hutt Cartel's initial assault is brutal. More than a few defenders are cut, stabbed, shot, or even disintegrated in the first moments of the battle for Landing Bay A2JC. The Hutt Cartel isn't without losses of their own, but their far less during that initial assault. Where many of the Cartel fighters show some hesitation to simply throw themselves fearlessly into the fray? They're quickly emboldened by the ferocity of a handful of the Cartel's elite. In the form of the Echani known as Amal Jha, the Gamorrean juggernaut known only as Snogrutt (the Mighty, the Unyielding, the Relentless, the Great with Eggs and Toast), and finally the one systematically concluding the injured's lives: the Aqualish known as Fshmaw.
It is the actions of these three that cause the Cartel forces invading Landing Bay A2JC to surge forward with a bloodthirsty resoluteness.
There is return fire from the various rebel positions of course, some of their own return fire finding homes burnt or otherwise etched into the hides and skins of the Cartel's valiant battle-leaders.
[ Amal Jha]
There was the slightest tilt of Amal's head, as the Echani recalibrated for the current combat situation, and she drove her rapier down, the electrified plasma core causing the shield to stutter out long enough for her to stab the rebel behind it, the blade sizzling out of their back, before she drew it back, slashing sideways to eliminate the second of the rebels hiding behind the shield, before it popped back up. If she noticed the blaster bolts aimed in her direction, it was only a passing thing to be avoided, as she twisted aside, to determine the next closest pod of rebel (scum). Business was, of the usual sort.
[ Snogrutt]
Snogrutt takes a few more hits, enough to get him to shy away from that ruthless onslaught, "on ghij oomapijyf thiwyfoohoo uhefevus..." he mutters to himself, stooping, trying to pull one of the shields the rebels have been using as cover. There's a growl of pain as the Gamorrean struggles to lift the energy-shield up, wheezing, his wounded body hunkering down behind it. He pushes with his legs! But it's slippery, the big, shot-up galoot struggling to push the heavy shield forward. [Language: Gamorrean]
[ Fshmaw]
Fshmaw picks likely-looking stragglers or burnt stumblers, but the smoke and chaos of the battlefield are not always an ally! His shots fail to find their mark, spattering harmlessly over rock and snow as the seething mass of Hutt vengeance surges forward yet!
[ Borgol the Hutt]
One of the defensive positions nearest to one of the Cartel landing barges falls under the influence of Amal Jha. The defenders slain, she soon turns her attention to the next objective. Meanwhile Snogrutt and Fshmaw seek shelter behind one of the shield barriers that has only recently fallen under the Cartel's sway.
The defenders continue to defend and the attackers continue to attack. The difference is that the defenders are beginning to get their bearings and concentrating fire on clusters of the Cartel's fighters. Where the Cartel had previously assumed a considerable kill count, the rebels are quickly beginning to regain lost ground as one of the landing craft begins to disgorge fighters; only for a fragmentation grenade to detonate near the boarding ramp, killing a handful of the Cartel's gunmen.
Such is the case of warfare however. There are gains, there are losses, and in the end it's about who exhausts their resources - whether material or personnel - first.
[ Amal Jha]
Fighting under the cover of smoke was fantastic for defending against blaster fire, but for someone who enjoyed a more 'up close and personal' approach, it was as much a hindrance to the Echani as it was to the rebels (scum). Amal, though, forged ahead, moving through the whirling smoke, cutting down one of the rebels who was trying to dodge away. "Press the attack! We do not have all day!" And then, as the puffs of smoke lessened, her voice came back to the group. "They have an imperial walker! We need to take it out of the fight. I'm moving that way." Indeed she was, heading away from the main body of the fight and towards one of the darker corners of the bay they had landed in.
[ Snogrutt]
Snogrutt digs in deep, wheezing, those biceps are BULGING as the Gamorrean puts all his effort into it! It's a good thing they brought the muscle! With a bellowing roar, Snogrutt's feet dig into the ground as he pushes that shield forward! It's not going ludicrous speed, the rest of the Cartel mercenaries can shelter behind it as they surge forward, able to flank most of the other positions as the Gamorrean moves the line if scrimmage waaaay down the airfield!
[ Fshmaw]
Fshmaw, perhaps emboldened (or at least free to think less about taking a blaster-bolt to the face) by Snogrutt's canny use of biceps, is a markedly luckier/more skilled shot from behind cover-- his attacks lick from out beneath the shield, finding deadly purchase there!
[ Borgol the Hutt (B)]
The attackers continue to surge forward. This is made all the easier as the brute that is Snogrutt begins to storm forward, pushing one of the shield walls across the landing bay's durasteel floor. The metallic screech of the shield wall's base sings out as the Gamorrean and his new device begin to act as a tip of the spear, with a number of the Cartel's guns and vicious leaders surging forward behind Snogrutt the Protector and his formidable energy shield.
The return fire is in volume however and a few shots are able to slip around the energy shield or otherwise catch limbs or heads peeking. The rebellious slaves lose just over a dozen defenders, with their numbers quickly dwindling. They're taking their toll however, because more of the Hutt Cartel's hired guns fall beneath the desperate blaster fire of the defenders.
It's not only the defenders that reap such a bounty on the Cartel's fighters. The aged Republic/Imperial walker, of the All Terrain Personal Transport variety, takes a pair of plodding and tentative steps forward. It appears that the pilot of the machine is likely of only rudimentary skill, based upon the sluggish manner in which the walker is controlled. The pilot clearly has enough rudimentary skill however to utilize the targeting apparatus, because soon enough the walker's pod begins to shift and track the attacker Cartel gunners. A pair of shots from the twin blaster cannon jutting from the walker's chin are spat across the landing bay and practically explode near a small cluster of rampaging Cartel marauders. The blaster sends bodies hurtling through the air, scattering from the point of the blaster cannons impact with shouts and screams of pain from those struck and terror or dismay from those forced to bear witness to the war machine's devastating strike.
[ Amal Jha]
Amal, having given her, not orders, as she was not the boss, but her strongly worded suggestion, took off at a run. She had the blessing of both speed and being nearly six feet tall to help her chew up the distance between herself and the walker. Which she did not attack, that was true, but she did begin to climb, which was, very stupid, granted, but this was also the Echani who never wore armor into combat. What was the worst that could happen?
[ Snogrutt]
Snogrutt digs his heels in, wheezing as he has to turn the shield towards the AT-PT. The Gamorrean is gulping down air, the adrenaline keeping the pain from really getting to him. There's one thing to be said about Gamorreans, they feel no pain when in battle! It's almost fun to them! 'Hee!' he squeaks, peering through the shield's hazey wall, keeping his sight on the walker as he pushes the shield ever closer, feeling it shudder as it absorbs those heavy shots.
[ Fshmaw]
Fshmaw, in contrast, might be sweating a bit from the sting of his injuries. His latest salvos are wide, the mojo having passed him by. Grimly, resolute, through the pain he perseveres onward beside his comrades...
[ Borgol the Hutt]
More bodies fall. Some fall and go still in the clutches of death. Others fall and cry out in pain, agony, or some combination therein. The cries of the injured join with the sounds of battle and make for an altogether unpleasant final rest for the dead. The AT-PT is confront by Amal Jha in a rather direct manner, while Snogrutt and the shield which the Gamorrean manually maneuvers through sheer physical force are turned to face-and-approach the surplus (former) Imperial walker. A shot or two from the blaster cannon of the walker is spat, impacting the shield and altogether saving both the Gamorrean, Aqualish, and their own impromptu strike team from being decimated by the walker's heavier weaponry.
Meanwhile the exchange of blaster fire becomes more and more sporadic, largely because while the Cartel seems to be swiftly gaining the upper hand? The upstart slave population seems to be dwindling under the brutal assault by the Hutt Cartel's collection of mercenaries, hired guns, and more diehard sworn loyalists.
"Retreeeeaaaatttt!" comes the cry from somewhere among the landing bay's former slave defenders. To their credit? Many don't simply drop their weapons and begin to flee. The majority of those making a retreat showcase a commendable degree of discipline as they begin to form an orderly retreat; providing covering and suppression fire, taking turns to bound from one element of cover to another, and altogether preventing the complete annihilation of their number while forging their retreat.
Not everyone retreats, however. There are some who seem to see that former Imperial walker as the saving grace of their defense and to simply abandon it to their former master's minions would be a failure too great. While others begin an orderly withdrawal, so too do others stand their grand and begin to pour fire in the direction of the AT-PT itself. Their small arms blaster fire is unlikely to cause significant - if any - damage to the walker itself, but the hitchhiker clinging to the walker's hull would surely have a bad day if struck by the salvo of fire slashing the air around her.
Meanwhile the AT-PT only seems to be serving the interest of her survival, even if unintentionally. On account of it shifting, swaying, and swiveling the command pod of the walker? It is only creating a moving target of Amal Jha and at other times outright providing her cover from some of the blaster fire being fired at her by the defenders.
[ Amal Jha]
It was, quite likely, only the Echani's years of training that kept her from being tossed off of the AT-PT as it began its mad mechanical dance trying to throw her off. The rapier she secured as she hand-pulled herself over towards the locking mechanism of the hatch that lead into the pilot's cabin, her focus narrowing down to pinpoint focus as she began to work at brute-forcing the mechanism. A tug of connectors there, a spark from her shock gloves there, as she forced the locking mechanism to the open position. Not the best work, but then, this was not what was meant when someone said the elder Jha was good with her hands.
[ Snogrutt]
Snogrutt can see Amal struggling up the walker. The Gamorrean grits his teeth, baring his tusks towards the rebels as they pour in the fire. With a flexing of muscles, the big galoot turns the big shield, making a big target to shield Fshmaw and the other shooters! Snogrutt anchors the shield in, absorbing the blunt effects of the shots hitting the shield, keeping the group more or less protected from return fire as they cover Amal!
[ Fshmaw]
Fshmaw protects his fellow elite enforcers, watching for those who would consider a charging Gamorrean boar snapping enemy bones like cordwood or a nimble slicer single-handedly commandeering an entire 'walker a tempting target-- and then shooting those people with his firearm!
[ Borgol the Hutt]
More fall, both those fighting to maintain their newfound freedom and those attempting return Nelkar II to the fold of the Hutt's influence. While many begin to tactically withdraw, they still suffer losses. Those who have sought to stand their ground or support the AT-PT? Are likewise among the fallen. Many turn their weapons in the direction of the battle-shouting Gamorrean and his shield wall. Even that momentary distraction is enough to draw a great deal of attention away from Amal Jha.
Meanwhile Amal is capable of slicing through the rudimentary access codes of the AT-PT's hatch.
While some are distracted by Snogrutt the Terrifying, Fshmaw's able to place a couple miracle shots into the awaiting face of a defender. Which is most unfortunate, because those pair of shots don't kill the former slave. They simply grievously wound the unfortunate soul, leaving her shrieking in unimaginable pain.
Meanwhile the AT-PT's pilot doesn't quite recognize the danger that is quickly mounting for him. He continues to shifting and shake, attempting to dislodge his newfound cargo and send the white-clad Echani flying from the armored plating of the walker. He's clearly unaware that his doom is swiftly approaching.
[ Amal Jha]
Amal, having managed to open the locking mechanism of the walker, retrieved her rapier. Not an easy task, but she had perfected the art of the weapon in the time that she had had it, and it was as much an extension of herself as her own hand. She held fast to the walker, as she pulled open the hatch. Unlike the holonet's many cartoon villains, she did not pontificate first and attack after. Instead, she spoke as she drove the rapier down into the cabin. The first strike taking his hands, the second his throat. "Lord Argamorok sends his regards."
[ Snogrutt]
Snogrutt's been shot... five times... looking more than a little worse for wear! He slumps against the shield, wheezing as his big form just sags to the ground. He remains propped up against the shield, keeping it from falling over, a modest level of protecting by now. He's not really going anywhere!
[ Fshmaw]
Fshmaw remains behind to defend the Shield Pig. (Can he swing? From a web. No way, that'scrazysodon'taaa-aaask.) Snog might be in a sacred Gamorrean meditative coma or just down a quart of blood, but Foosh will make sure he makes it to the back-alley black market surgeon!
[ Borgol the Hutt]
The AT-PT goes abruptly still when the hands of its pilot are summarily slashed free of their wrists. One final jerk threatens to send Amal Jha flying, but ultimately she's able to retain her footing and the steed which she had ridden for the last few seconds goes utterly motionless as the pilot's stubs-for-hands move to clutching at his throat.
Meanwhile the fighting begins to die down all throughout the landing bay. Those who had begun their retreat earlier were making good the last of their retreat through the landing bay's blast doors and likely to defensive emplacements in other, deeper locales. Those who had elected to ignore the call for retreat, stand their ground, and ultimately support the doomed AT-PT were only now beginning to try to effect some manner of hasty retreat. Unfortunately for them the Hutt Cartel's thirst for retribution doesn't stop once backs are turned. Those attempting to beat a last-minute departure are summarily knocked forward by the burning, stinking hole that is formed in their backs by blaster bolts that find themselves there.
While some of the Cartel's more martially-minded killers begin to establish a perimeter, yet others begin to pick across Landing Bay A2JC's battlefield like vultures. They begin to pick across the bodies of the dead; whether it is for treasures, equipment, or some trophy or another.
While Landing Bay A2JC is one of many such landing bays, the capture of at least one is already a step in the right direction of the Hutt Cartel reclaiming the last-stop refueling station on the boundary of Hutt Space.
[ Amal Jha]
"I have decided to send the Hutts my dry cleaning bills," Amal commented to no one in particular, as she descended halfway into the pilot's cabin, one hand and then another flying out of the cabin, before she replaced her rapier, beginning the process of pulling the dead body out of the pilot's seat, to toss the body down to the deck a short while after, "Secure the landing. Kill those with no chance of survival, save a few for questioning. And get medical in here to treat our injured." That she said as much with her formerly pristine white garments drenched with the blood of the former AT-PT pilot, well, it might make the rest of the Hutt heavies fall into line.
[ Borgol the Hutt (B)]
The moon of Nelkar II has undergone a slave rebellion within the last few weeks. Today the Hutt Cartel has struck back and taken its first steps in reclaiming its (rightful) property. Landing Bay A2JC was first among many battlefields of that initial assault by the Cartel. There are many dead and wounded within that landing bay alone, let alone others of the small refueling station. After A2JC has been claimed and deemed secure by the initial wave of Hutt Cartel enforcers, it then becomes time for the support personnel and equipment to be delivered.
Within a matter of hours Landing Bay A2JC - valorously reclaimed by Snogrutt the Indomitable, Fshmaw the Grurahruuuh, Amal Jha, and many others of the Hutt Cartel who gave life or limb - becomes something of a command center and field hospital for the Hutt Cartel's unfolding operations on Nelkar II.
Along with supplies and other support staff comes a special cargo - a cargo special enough that it's given its own retinue of Lord Borgol the Hutt's own hired killers - in the form of (Doctor) Lera Orr. Eventually her arrival in Landing Bay A2JC heralds the arrival of better-than-rudimentary-first-aid medical care; once she gets the field hospital established, of course.
[ Snogrutt]
Snogrutt the Indomitable lies valiantly on a stretcher. As one of the more senior, veteran Mercenaries, in Borgol's employ, a Master-At-Arms, if you will, he is accorded the luxuries of an actual cot, and some bandages! He is riddled with blaster-burns, having taken at least five.. or if you ask him, twenty hits! Snogrutt, thankfully, has been given a little pain relief, in the form of some narcotic, the dopey piggy just drooling out the corner of his porcine mouth, wincing as some clumsy oaf jostles his stretcher on the way past!
[ Fshmaw]
Fshmaw, whose injuries are less colorful than Amal's and less severe than Snogrutt's, waits with relative silence and patience to have another bacta-patch sealed across his storied abs, which resemble the barnacle-crusted hide of a mighty bull walrus. 'Oh no I have been shot in the blubber' is 'a Tuesday,' according to his face, but he does make at least one round with the throat-cutters for cleanup before checking on Snogrutt and Amal with hot tea or hardtack...
[ Lera Orr]
'Killer' was to be disputed, by Lera herself if no one else. Of course, semantics could be argued - who best knew how to kill than those who knew how to save? Neither here nor there! The good doctor comes with a mission, or perhaps it had been a command? She's certainly in the employ of the Hutt lord, so the latter is likely true, but it would be best never to say so before the imperious Arkanian.
The details concerning the field hospital are best left undisclosed, although great pains (irony not withstanding) to ensure it was done to her exacting standards, standards which included maximum effiecincy and therefore the least amount of time wasted. She must be able to work!
And work she does, tending to the wounded like some fell, pale angel of mercy. At least by appearance. If her bedside manners seem to lack, then surely Doctor Orr had her reasons. So many patients, so little time?
Her primary focus ultimately ends up with three individuals: Snogrutt, Amal Jha and Fshmaw. The first being the most grievously wounded of the three. All receive her personal attention, although it is an unfortunate fact that by the time Lera takes a look at Amal there is some dreadful distraction that calls her away. Something about another individual with all their legs blown off? Amal understands, right? ...Right?
