A City Asunder

[Wesley Cole]

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Salis D'aar | Bakura | Outer Rim​

City Streets​

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What was left of the city of Salis D'aar was reeling in the wake of the battle fought above her skies and in her streets. She was a city torn asunder, battered buildings and jagged spires rising against the deceptively clear horizon. After the battle, its participants had packed up and left mostly - returned to their own worlds or sectors of influence but for the Bakurans the battle still waged on. This time though, it wasn't a battle of man against man, but of man against the desolation wrought upon their homes. Chewed up, spit out, and cast aside - those warring factions cared little for the native population if the current state of things were any indication. Of course the Bakuran Defense Forces had sided with their former overlords but where were they now?

Oh, the First Order hadn't completely abandoned the Bakurans but in the wake of the battle and overwhelmed by the sudden expansion of the Ssi-Ruuvi Imperium, their Imperial overlords had their hands full. All that remained were scattered pockets of the once staunch garrisons of First Order Stormtroopers and as of late, recovery and salvage operations overseen by the Order's new Retribution Corps. The bulk of policing and recovery for the Bakurans was at the hands of their now largely ineffective Defense Forces. It was a race to normalcy, to grasp some semblance of their former lives. If such a thing was even possible...

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A subtle grumble of the earth beneath Wesley's feet was the first warning that something was coming, the second a deep pitched roar of engines and the rattle of gravel beneath the heavy wheels of a vehicle. Nimbly stepping over a few large chunks of rubble in the street, the native Bakuran barely made it out of the road before the source of the commotion came into view around the burned out husk of what had once been a corner store. *Retribution Corps*. A Juggernaut tank roared past, loose gravel and dirt flying up in its wake as it mindlessly tore down the main avenue. Quickly ducking and raising his heavy coat over his face, Wesley felt the heat of the exhaust and loose rocks repelled harmlessly against its surface - and then it was gone, rumbling away. Completely oblivious to the man or any other bystanders. "Karking hell..." he muttered, a deep sigh escaping his lips.

Resuming his course, Wesley stepped back into the street and shook his head. "I swear, its like we don't even exist to them." His comments were directed at the similarly clad figure behind him. A woman he only knew as "Petra". From what he'd gathered she was a kindred spirit, fed up with the over reach of Imperialist nations across the galaxy but much more than that was shrouded in mystery. It hadn't been much of a concern of his, anyone who had taken the time to travel to Bakura and wasn't a jack-booted thug was a friend in his book. Of course, it helped that she shared the same distaste for authoritarian rule and oppression. She'd been on the planet for a few weeks now but this was the first time they'd taken to the streets since her arrival.

Wesley had offered to take her on a tour of sorts, to see the city as it was. News reports and holonet coverage of the situation had been censored and misrepresented by the Bakuran Government and possibly even by remnants of the First Order. Even put to task by their circumstances it seemed the machine that had been the First Order was still pulling some strings. "This used to be a symbol of Bakuran pride." he said, motioning to the now ramshackle avenue. "Workshops, Schools, even a few luxury hotels." The memory of the pristine storefronts, green trees, and the sounds of people walking up and down the street almost brought tears to his eyes as he took in its current state. "You wouldn't know it, but people were happy here." Rounding a corner, they turned towards a large open area. Cracked duracrete and torn up earth jutting out of the ground at odd angles filled the open space. Charred and fallen trees littered the ground at odd intervals filled what once had been a beautiful city park. "Is it what you expected?" he asked, a tone of bitterness creeping into the edge of his voice?

[member="Petra Vitalis"] | [member="The Major"] | [member="Robogeber"] | @Sanctuary Systems Liberation Army​

 

[Petra Vitalis]

Petra put her hands in her pockets as she wandered down the boulevard with [member="Wesley Cole"]. She was clad in a pair of black slacks and a trim-fitting waistcoat, a dark blue high-necked blouse and a knee-length coat in black, trimmed in dark grey piping, its high neck all but shrouding her face. A navy and dark purple scarf hung around her neck, almost up to her chin. Her head was on a swivel, dark eyes taking in the destruction. "I'd heard it was bad," said Petra quietly. "But I had no idea it was this bad." She shook her head, frowning gravely. "I was on Bakura, briefly, right after -- well, the First Order's final stand, I guess you'd say. Looking for family," she explained quietly.

"They were in the country," she went on. "Holed up in a namata plantation, about a hundred and fifty kilometers from Salis D'aar. It was bad out there, but... nothing like this."

The young rebel instinctively turned away as another patrol thundered through, a hand reaching up to tug her collar ever higher. When they were alone again, she allowed herself to turn back towards her traveling companion. "It almost makes you wish for the First Order's protection again. Almost." She smirked and ran a hand across her black hair. "But I think Bakura deserves better. They all do." She gestured broadly as if to suggest the universe.

"It doesn't have to be this way," she muttered, almost as if to herself. Petra shook her head sadly. What a waste.

 

[Wesley Cole]

Wesley suppressed a scowl as the second patrol passed. He wanted to shout at them, rebuke them, but just as quick as he felt the hint of anger flare it died again. What could they do under these circumstances? Picking up his feet he motioned further along. "We do." he responded decidedly to the woman's commentary. "Let's go grab a bite to eat, I could use a pick me up." In the air around them a symphony of sounds echoed. Whirring machinery, the rumble of Retribution Corps assets, the squeal of speeder engines - painfully absent were the sound of people's voices, laughter. Things that had once been gratuitous. Wesley understood the desire for safety, for order, but what was it worth at the end of a blaster? Under someone's foot? If the Bakuran people wanted stability and a future, they couldn't be anyone's dog but their own.

A few more blocks and they'd entered a somewhat less ravaged part of Salis D'aar. Here trees still grew and only one in every several buildings showed any sort of damage, in fact if you listened carefully enough you could even hear the soft twitter of birds. A stark contrast to their morning's excursion. Scattered groups of people could be seen milling about, others picking through loose rubble. "With most of the factories knocked out, there's a lot of unemployment." he nodded his head towards a particularly large group of loiterers. The pair continued, they'd get their exercise for the day, no doubt. Another block along and Wesley stopped abruptly, an uncharacteristic smile piquing at the corner of his mouth. "Do you smell that?" He gave a few exaggerated sniffs. Beyond the somewhat acrid taste of the air there was a new smell - freshly baked bread. "I've got something to show you." Wes said, almost excitedly.

Stepping off quickly the pair would turn one more corner and walk another half block before they arrived in front of a surprisingly well preserved storefront, large glass panes revealing tall rolling shelves - upon them a variety of baked breads and pastries. Pausing for only a moment, Wesley entered the shop, a tiny bell jangling as they entered. There behind the counter stood a thin man, his blue apron awash with flour. As the two entered his eyes looked up from the piece of dough he was kneading, an inquisitive eyebrow raised. "What kin I do ya fer?" he said, wiping his hands against the blue backdrop of his apron. "How much for a loaf?" Wes asked. A thoughtful frown spread across the baker's features as he considered. "Well, market int what it us'd ta be. Howsabout.. two credits a loaf." Wesley nodded, reaching into his jacket's worn pockets to retrieve a small chit. "I'll take ten." The look on the baker's face was one of shock. "T-ten?" he questioned. "Yes, ten - I'm good for it." Wes offered the chit to the man, sliding it from one side of the counter to the other. "Right'way then."

The baker moved from his position behind the counter and began retrieving the loaves into a thin canvas bag. "As you can imagine, things have been hard around here. Especially for businesses." he said, turning back to Petra. "There's a fair number of businesses that survived but without the wages to pay for things... it hardly matters."

[member="Petra Vitalis"] | Sanctuary Systems Liberation Army​

 

[The Major]

Above Salis D’aar, Bakura

A Reprisal Class station popped up in formation with a Star Destroyer flanked by a pair of modest First Order cruisers. This task group had already ran its security scans to ensure that no enemy presence was present over the world, though it would be unlikely for even the Ssi-Ruuk to hold any kind of position here after the beating they took when the combined might of three galactic powers had exorcised this sector.

Within this group was a medley of Remnant forces and personnel had prepared diligently to approach the monumental task of reconstruction. Bakura would represent the largest world next to Pa’desh in the sector, and this planet’s healing would be a fantastic stepping stone in reestablishing some form of normalcy for the First Order. This sudden appearance was fueled by more than altruism: recently diplomats sent on behalf of the Old Fort encountered resistance while laying inroads with the Bakuran senate in the form of a terrorist incident. While that issue had been hurdled over it still showcased how vulnerable the world was. Extremists and opportunists would no doubt be clamoring to now stake their claim since those lines of exploitation were open.

The Retribution Corps would now seek to squash any repeats of the incident while distributing the most essential resource in these times: hope. In Bakura’s time of need, the station was stockpiled with food and materials to help facilitate the repairs. Military doctors and researchers would be aboard to assist the understaffed medical facilities. Another contingent of government staff would help those assigned to get the support of the local officials. Engineers were ready to recover salvage from the numerous wrecks scattered across the globe. Not to mention a healthy garrison of fresh troopers would be ready to defend the First Order’s interests, along with providing the police of the cities some measure of respite.

In any other circumstance this would no doubt be seen a secondary invasion. Perhaps to those on surface it still would be. Nevertheless, the telltale design of First Order ships could be clearly seen in the skies of the capital -a glittering, angelic boon of relief to some, and to others an ominous shadow of dark deeds that were to come.

As the Star Destroyer lumbered down to cover the city it pushed through a set of dark amber clouds -one would be hard pressed not to imagine some great woe being pressed upon them... and shudder.

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[member="Petra Vitalis"] | [member="Wesley Cole"] | Sanctuary Systems Liberation Army | First Order​

 

[Petra Vitalis]

Petra followed [member="Wesley Cole"] into the bakery, carefully closing the door behind her so that the tingling bell was the only sound. She stood to one side as Wes conducted his business, her head turning this way and that to keep an eye on things. She had to admit that the smell of freshly baked bread was rather intoxicating, and made her stomach rumble with hunger. She waited until they were finished, and pushed the door open for him before joining him on the sidewalk. "It's hard to keep an economy running in this state. It's going to take a lot of work. A lot of resources. A lot of credits," Petra concluded, sighing quietly. "And even if we had the credits, the First Order may well come calling, or the Imperium, or whoever."

She jammed her hands in her pockets again, jangling a few credit coins inside. She kept her gaze down, careful not to trip over any debris, but was clearly lost in thought. "You know... I know some people," she said after a few moments in silence. "They've got some ships, some guns, some people." Petra glanced sidelong at her traveling companion. "It won't be enough if the First Order brings the big guns, but it could be enough to give you some breathing room. You never know -- "

Her voice broke off when the cloud cover was broken and a ship appeared in the sky over the city. "Oh hell," she muttered. "Is there any chance this could be coincidental?" she murmured to Wesley.

 

[Wesley Cole]

Their business conducted, the baker offered Wesley the bag of breads. Wesley of course promptly accepted before motioning back towards the street. This was but a stop along their route - why he'd bought ten full loaves would soon become apparent. The native Bakuran's lips tightened and he nodded as Petra spoke about resources.. and credits. Slinging the bag over his shoulder, Wes took the lead again. Nimbly avoiding a pothole he changed direction, angling towards a nearby alleyway. Before he reached the opening however, he stopped short as the shadow of the First Order vessels and the words of his companion abruptly terminated.

An expression of confusion and irritation creased Wes' features as his near smile turned into a frown. "I cannae say for certain. If it wasn't I imagine we'd be seeing more action down here - but it isn't like they tell us anything. The little people." A hint of bitterness escaped his voice before he looked back to the opening. "Better get a move on, just in case." A few quick steps took him off the street and into a narrow alleyway. At the end, it opened up into a wide space filled with tents and ramshackle structures, but these looked a hint to small to be for adults - and as Wes's first footfall hit the ground between the tents their suspicions would be confirmed. Appearing from several of the decrepit hovels were small round faces covered in soot and grime. Children.

The small alleyway Wesley had lead Petra down was a refuge of sorts. A safe haven for the orphans and runaways of Salis D'aar - a haven now overpopulated. "Come out then kiddos, I've got somethin' for ya." Bringing the small sack of bread from his shoulder out in front of him Wes opened the top before nodding first at Petra and then at the quickly forming line in front of him. "I'd like you all to meet my friend Petra." Again, a hint of a smile almost appeared on the man's features before his expression resumed a moderate melancholy.

[member="Petra Vitalis"] | [member="The Major"] | @Sanctuary Systems Liberation Army​

 

[Petra Vitalis]

Petra wasn't exactly the 'maternal instinct' type of woman.

The daughter -- the only daughter, come to that -- of an aristocrat on Galidraan, she had never experienced the kind of parental affection that so many of those she had encountered since leaving Galidraan had. It was not a cultural touchstone among the upper classes; there was, the saying she had once heard went, room for sentiment in rearing one's children, but not sentimentality. Especially among people who valued their male children more than their female ones due to the ability of males to pass along family names and titles, properties and assets. Still, most of Petra's contemporaries, including her two brothers, had been raised more or less by nannies, spending forty minutes with mother and father after tea.

To make a long, painful exposition story short: she had limited experience with children, and less with children who were also strangers.

But the plight of these ragamuffins was enough to tug her heartstrings.

To cover for her sudden lumpy throat, she muttered to [member="Wesley Cole"]: "I didn't realize when you said 'little people' you meant it so literally."

 

[Wesley Cole]

"Ah, a double entendres then." He smiled, knowingly. It wasn't the first time he'd seen the subtle choking of words when faced with the reality of.. well, reality. "Wouldn't be the first time, won't be the last that folks forget about 'em." It was always the children that paid the price for the choices of their elders - but it wasn't always a price paid. It couldn't be. They had to make the world a better place for the youngsters. That's what drove them wasn't it? The hope of something better. Blinking hard a few times, Wes continued to hand out the still warm bread, carefully rolling up the bag and tucking it back into his pocket once empty. "That's the last thing on my list." Wes stated as he watched the children scuttle back into their various hiding places and abodes. "Beyond that, I'm not sure there's much I can do." a wistful look at the state of things clouded his eyes for a moment before he inhaled and tapped his foot and spoke up again. "Well that's it then. Anything else you'd like to get eyes on or see?"

[member="Petra Vitalis"] | [member="The Major"]​

 

[The Major]

Aboard one of the behemoths

A hyperblue projection of the city and its surrounding conurbation dominated the command and control center. Flanking the edges of the map were a dozen or so seated operators manning a plethora of monitors and communications systems. This team would be earning keep aboard in earnest as the first reports form the forward drones and reconnaissance elements dispatched began to stream in. Although this was no battle in the traditional sense within the control room all of its bustle still managed to maintain an air of seriousness and urgency not uncommonly experienced in the throes of combat.

From behind a pair of spectacles which reflected the queer luminescence of the datatable the Major watched indifferently. Commanders discussed the plans for troop distribution, ready to play wargames -and she found herself automatically responding or offering directives in complete independence to the faraway lands her mind skipped along.

Routine. Oppressive, dull routine. How healthy.

If everything went as planned, Sybil might not even have to really waken during the operation. Meanwhile, transports streamed down to the edges of the city -thus far unchallenged….

[member="Petra Vitalis"] | [member="Wesley Cole"] | Sanctuary Systems Liberation Army | First Order