JEDI PRAXEUM MISSION
Nibelungen had gone through rough times from the moment it was founded.
Jedi Lords ruling the planet with an ironfist and then some, followed by a complete reversal when cultists took over and established their own empire. The Ancient Eye had clad their palaces in gold, ruled in opulence and glorified their own leaders.
But where did all of it come from?
The gold? The wealth? The labor?
While the Outer Rim Coalition (good people, but by definition chaotic and more interested in the goal than the road ahead) and some elements of the Silver Jedi Order (scowl) were attempting to dislodge the Ancient Eye from this system a band of Jedi settled themselves elsewhere.
Nelun -- named after some ancient Jedi Lord of the past and never renamed -- was one of the sub-cities a reasonable distance away from Nibelungen’s capital. Here were the factories, the industrial yards, the heavy labor that powered an economy running on blood, corpses and words.
The Praxeum consisting of four Jedi hopefuls had spent the past few days talking to the people and figuring out how best to help them.
That had been parts of the sickness within the old Jedi Orders. No communication, just rolling up uninvited and pretending like they had the solution to people they hadn’t ever met before.
“That’s the building one of the construction workers talked about.” Alden pointed towards it with a frown. Apparently it was a water sanitation plant, necessary to clean and filter the water, except… a remnant of the Ancient Eye had holed up in it. Turning themselves from conquerors to thugs extracting duties from those that wanted clean water. Part of him was concerned about this.
They had helped with the repairs of a field hospital damaged during the skirmish, brought it medical supplies, shared food with the people of the district.
But they hadn’t fought anyone yet and that was a different type of beast.
“Ideas on how to approach it?”
Right now his mind was running through the scenarios- each one of them had their own problems and dangers. It was possible to maybe just… talk to them? But the sight of an impaled factory worker against the wall widened his eyes just a bit. “Think we can scrap the diplomacy idea…”