In this secret underground parking garage, there was a hidden Rebel Alliance base.
A valiant young woman, no more than thirty at most, walked over and said to the civilians who had just arrived, "Don't be afraid. We are fighting the robot regime that enslaves us, not the people. We'll soon arrange to get you out of the city, because Izzy City is about to become a battlefield."
"She's Stila-Gerrera! The Rebel Alliance leader! General Kalani is offering 500,000 credits for her capture!" someone in the crowd cried out.
"I suggest you don't think too much about the bounty. Even if you caught me, General Kalani probably wouldn't pay up—a bullet is much cheaper than 500,000 credits." After several months of struggle, Stila-Gerrera had grown far more mature than before.
She carried herself with calm composure, her gaze sharp, and she no longer seemed to reject the title of 'Rebel Alliance leader.'
Since everyone acknowledged her, then she would shoulder that responsibility.
That was right. A leader was not about power, but responsibility!
Stila-Gerrera walked to the front of the crowd and said, "General Kalani disregards whether you live or die. It issued martial law and trapped you inside those buildings, without caring whether they were your homes, whether there was food, or whether there were beds. All it cares about is how to bind our planet Onderon to the Separatists' chariot."
"And how are you, blowing up power plants and transport ships, any better than those robots? You're all the same kind of scum!" a civilian shouted.
"Shut your mouth! Looking to get beaten?!" A fierce-looking Rebel Alliance warrior at his side moved to strike him.
Stila-Gerrera raised a hand to stop him, then said sincerely, "I don't want to argue with you about right and wrong. I only