Private Blood and Fire

[Jaina Grayson]

Aron Brood

DXUN
​

"Dxun Command to Shuura, do you read me?"

"Copy that, Dxun," the pilot replied. The purple-skinned Twi'lek sat in the cockpit of the Shuura, a supply convoy carrying food, medicine, and other relief, currently in orbit around Dxun, a moon of Onderon. "Requesting landing permissions."

"What is your destination?"

"Refugee Camp Thesh," she replied.

There was an unusually long period of silence from the other end. "Apologies, Shuura. You will be going to Refugee Camp Resh.”

The pilot frowned, even glancing at the transcript of the conversation just to confirm she hadn't misheard them. “I don't understand. Was there some mistake?"

"Negative. Camp Resh is ready to receive you."

"But Camp Thesh is in desperate need of supplies," she pressed. "We were told the situation was critical."

Another lengthy pause. "It appears your information is out of date. There is no Camp Thesh. These orders come straight from the Commander."

She stared incredulously at the display, then pursed her lips into a thin line. "Acknowledged, Dxun," she said, before closing the channel. In the same motion of her deft fingers, she switched on the ship's intercom... then hesitated, the faint sound of static echoing through the Shuura's corridors. What would happen when she delivered the news to the rest of the relief workers? Would there be an uproar? A few grumblings? Would they take it at face value and just follow orders?

"Attention all personnel, this is your pilot speaking," she began. "There's been a change of plans. We've been ordered to divert course to a different refugee camp..."

 

[Aron Brood]

As the Shuura parked in Dxun's orbit, waiting for the go-ahead, Aron leaned on a galley counter, pulling sips from his caf bulb. His first, and likely last, reprieve during this mission. And of course he was wasting it.

Weeks had passed and Master Trangsin hadn't reached out. That was odd, but so be it. His former master was a coward. Always had been. Aron saw that now. The man mistook propriety for virtue, unwilling or unable to kill the noble in his head. He had recused himself from action, preferring to sit and watch as Hapes burned. His own damn homeworld.

The intercom buzzed to life, yanking Aron out of his thoughts. Static echoed for a little too long before the pilot finally spoke.

"Attention all personnel, this is your pilot speaking," she began. "There's been a change of plans. We've been ordered to divert course to a different refugee camp..."

Ominous. Maybe it was nothing, but Aron had a bad feeling in his gut. A few of the crew members grumbled, out of confusion mostly, but others were unphased. The work was the same no matter which refugee camp they were assigned to.

Tossing his empty caf bulb into the recycler, Aron made his way to the cockpit with long strides. He stopped at the entrance.

Dxun, visible from the viewport, grabbed Aron's attention immediately. It looked like a space giant had dunked the planet in the largest bucket of dark green paint, splashed a few thick globs of pear, pine, and sage, then swirled it all around and called it a day. It was breathtaking.

Aron remembered why he was here and his gaze shifted to the pilot. "What's going on?" he asked. "Why the sudden change?"

Jaina Grayson

 

[Jaina Grayson]

No sooner had she finished her announcement, someone came barging into the cockpit. She turned her chair around, coming face to face with the resident Jedi. These days there was always at least one Knight on any given relief ship, especially one like the Shuura, which was technically flying under the Foundation's banner. The pilot didn't even know this one's name, but of all the crew he was probably the one most likely to object to their new orders.

He was also the one most likely to be able to defy the odds and do something about it.

"What's going on? Why the sudden change?"

"I don't know, sir," she replied. "Dxun Command issued the order. They didn't give an explanation, just said our original orders were outdated... and that Camp Thesh doesn't exist."

Whether it had been destroyed or its existence was being kept hidden from them, she didn't know for sure. All she knew was that it was more than a little suspicious.

"Since they won't give us coordinates, we have no way of knowing where Camp Thesh is... or was." She flicked a switch on the control panel. "Normal protocol would be to contact our HQ. But it could take a while for backup to arrive." Time that the refugees struggling to survive without supplies might not have.

Aron Brood​

 

[Aron Brood]

The pilot said sir. The honorific made him recoil, which might've been the anarchist in him. "Just call me Aron," he cut in.

"Doesn't exist..." he repeated, processing the implication. Communication could be spotty in large scale operations like this. Lots of moving parts. But refugee camps didn't just up and disappear. Not that quickly, anyway. He crossed his arms across his chest. "What do you make of this, Miss...?"

Aron had an idea of the correct course of action, but wanted to hear from the purple lady first. Maybe she'd experienced something like this before. She was technically Foundation approved, which made him eager to respect her opinion.

Jaina Grayson​

 

[Jaina Grayson]

"What do you make of this, Miss...?"

"Just call me Jaina." She shrugged her shoulders. "Frankly, this whole thing smells fishy to me. Refugee camps don't just cease to exist overnight. They're hiding something, and I doubt it's anything good."

Perhaps she should've been surprised that a Jedi was asking for her opinion. But her master used to do the same thing. The professor practically treated her like a walking encyclopedia at times...

"We ought to go check it out ourselves," she said, a twinkle in her cat-like eyes. "I don't suppose you can use your Jedi powers to sense where the camp is?"

Aron Brood​

 

[Aron Brood]

Jaina corroborated his concerns. Aron clenched his jaw. "I agree. Something's not right here."

Glancing her up and down, Aron smirked when he caught the twinkle in her feline eyes. Jaina was willing to jump into the fray. Of course, she wouldn't be here if she wasn't. "You've worked with Jedi before?" he asked, raising a brow. "But yes, I can do that."

Aron continued, arms still crossed.

"I propose we contact HQ. Call in backup, tell them to bring additional supplies. But we won't wait around. We'll comply with Dxun Command, follow their coordinates to Camp Thesh. Not sure how good Dxun planetary defenses are, but I don't want to get blown up in restricted airspace and I don't want to immediately arouse their suspicions. Once we touch down, you and I will investigate while the crew offloads. Sound like a plan?"

Jaina Grayson​

 

[Jaina Grayson]

He agreed that something was amiss. At his question, she waved a hand vaguely. "Lots of Jedi in my line of work."

His plan was a sound one. She would've preferred a more direct, bombastic approach, but she had to agree that it was for the best. The rest of the crew shouldn't be put in harm's way. "Aye," she agreed. "Buckle your seatbelt."

---

Camp Resh was one of several settlements hastily constructed to house refugees from the nearby Hapes Cluster. The so-called Hapes Crisis—really a civil war between the Queen Mother's Consortium and the anti-matriarchy insurgent group known as the Crimson Veil—had exploded into violence within the past month or so. Millions of civilians across dozens of worlds were displaced, fleeing the Cluster and forced to find shelter elsewhere.

The Shuura's arrival at the camp went without incident. As soon as they landed, the crew of relief workers, most of them from the Foundation, began offloading supplies. Jaina joined in the labor, carrying a crate of food from the landing pad to a warehouse on the edge of the camp.

No sooner had she entered the building, she saw piles of supplies in storage. She ran a few quick calculations, frowning at the results. There was already enough rations to feed the camp's entire population for the next two years. They didn't need this extra shipment.

To avoid suspicion, she dropped off the crate she had been carrying and left the warehouse, instead heading for the medic. There were a handful of sick and injured people being tended to by medical droids, but several of the clean white cots sat empty. They weren't hurting for medicine either.

She emerged back into the late morning light, her expression solemn. So far everything she'd seen had only confirmed her suspicions that something underhanded was afoot. Activating her comlink, she spoke quietly into her earpiece: "Aron, it's Jaina. This is the most pristine looking refugee camp I've ever seen. Warehouse is overstocked and barely any bodies in medical..."

Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a little girl standing off to the side. Having probably never seen a Twi'lek before, the girl was staring at her from afar while licking an ice cream cone. It was a cute image, like something straight out of an advertisement. She looked more like she was on vacation than struggling to survive.

Jaina wondered if there was a little girl like her at the other camp, the one Dxun Command claimed didn't exist. That little girl probably wasn't eating ice cream right now.

Aron Brood​

 

[Aron Brood]

When they landed, Aron reluctantly peeled himself away from the crew. He needed to be alone to concentrate. He ventured half a mile from the camp, sitting secluded on the forest floor while darkness surrounded him. The thick wooded canopy swallowed Dxun's sunshine, leaving only faint glows of light at the edges of the tree line. Aron closed his eyes and opened himself up.

The Force thrummed around him. Aron reached out, and reached out, and reached out. There was pain and loss everywhere on Dxun. Refugee camps littered the place, filled with traumas and sorrows. Each one threatened to pull him away from the task at hand. He navigated through them, finally latching onto an incessant foreboding feeling, distinct from the rest. He let it guide him...

"Aron, it's Jaina. This is the most pristine looking refugee camp I've ever seen. Warehouse is overstocked and barely any bodies in medical..."

Aron awoke with a startle. The man had never a deep meditator. Or a deep sleeper, for that matter. Those were probably related.

"Copy that," he sighed. "We were right to be suspicious, then. I think I know where Camp Thesh is. Or its general location. I'm heading back to the transport now. Get a speeder prepped."

Jaina Grayson​

 

[Jaina Grayson]

"Copy that. We were right to be suspicious, then. I think I know where Camp Thesh is. Or its general location. I'm heading back to the transport now. Get a speeder prepped."

"Got it," she said before turning off her comlink. The little girl was still staring at her. Jaina hesitated a moment, before deciding to follow a hunch. "Hey there, sweetie," she said, crouching down to be at eye level with the child. "Where'd you get that ice cream from?"

"The Commander gave it to me," the girl answered shyly, pointing toward the center of the camp. Jaina's gaze followed the direction of her finger, spotting a group of kids crowding around a hovercart. Most of the children were girls in frilly dresses, all of them clamoring for the attention of the person handing out ice cream... a feminine figure clad in Mandalorian armor.

Was that the same Commander who had ordered them to deliver their supplies here? Jaina did a quick search through the Holonet, and was immediately inundated with news stories related to this very event. 'Commander Rita Wren hands out ice cream to Hapan refugees' was the headline, featuring photos taken by floating camdroids.

"Ma'am, have you seen my daddy?"

The girl's question drew Jaina's attention back to the present. "What does he look like?" she asked.

"He's tall and has white hair."

Poor thing. "I haven't seen him. But if I do, I'll be sure to send him your way, sweetie. What's your name?"

"Lalu." The girl looked hopeful. "The people in armor took him away right after we got here. He's been gone for a really long time..."

The Mandalorians had taken her father away? "Do you know why they took him away?"

Lalu shook her head. "They said he was a bad man. But he didn't do anything bad."

Had her father been sent to another camp? Prison? Jaina was sorely tempted to investigate further, but finding out more about Camp Thesh was her top priority. After reassuring the girl once more that she would be on the lookout, she headed back to the transport, spying a speeder loaded with the last of the supplies about to be driven to the other end of the camp. "Allow me," she said, climbing into the driver's seat and waiting for Aron. Camp Resh had more than enough food and medicine; the least she could do was sneak a little to Thesh.

Aron Brood​

 

[Aron Brood]

Aron marched to the transport, easily spotting Jaina's purple head tendrils in the driver's seat of a loaded speeder. "Hey," he said, approaching and leaning on the driver's side. He gestured to the speeder's cargo and gave an approving nod. "Good thinking." Suspiciously good, maybe?

He traced his thick finger along the sleek hood of the speeder as he walked around it, admiring the design. Once he reached the other side, he clumsily climbed into the passenger seat, his large frame and long legs making it difficult. The just-long-enough-to-be-awkward maneuver was capped with a heavy sigh.

"Camp Thesh should be a few miles northwest," he said, pointing it out on the speeder's navigation console. "We'll have to narrow it down once we're closer. My Jedi senses are only so good. Shouldn't be a problem, though. It's a refugee camp, shouldn't be hard to spot. Plus, you seem resourceful. Speaking of which, were you able to gather any intel?"

Jaina Grayson​

 

[Jaina Grayson]

Aron was a rather large man. Jaina couldn't help but smile a little as she watched him struggle to climb into the cramped passenger seat. This particular vehicle was a landspeeder, lacking the capability to do more than levitate a couple feet off the ground. It would've been convenient if they'd had a proper air speeder, but they would have to make do with what they had.

"Camp Thesh should be a few miles northwest," he said, pointing it out on the speeder's navigation console. "We'll have to narrow it down once we're closer. My Jedi senses are only so good. Shouldn't be a problem, though. It's a refugee camp, shouldn't be hard to spot. Plus, you seem resourceful. Speaking of which, were you able to gather any intel?"

Jaina sped off, going as fast as she could without drawing attention to them. Within the confines of the speeder, they could speak freely. "I saw the Commander. She was doing a little publicity stunt for the camdroids, handing out ice cream to little kids." She turned a corner, veering away from the camp. The roads were getting muddier, with pieces of debris strewn in their path. She drove a little more carefully, not wanting to get anything caught in the repulsors.

"She's a Mandalorian." Which wasn't surprising, given the location, but also somewhat concerning. Onderon had a weird status within the Alliance. Their closeness to the border meant that they were culturally Mandalorian, with a Mando king and other nobles controlling the system. Yet they were officially a GA member world, and thus operated under the Alliance's jurisdiction. Jaina expected the GA would be handling the Hapan refugee situation, yet this Commander seemed to be the one in control. Perhaps she was a regional administrator who had been given the responsibility (or perhaps even volunteered for the position) for the sake of efficiency...?

They weren't driving for very long before someone started tailing them. Jaina glimpsed the speeder following behind in the rearview mirror. An arm extended out of the driver's window, signaling them to stop. She glanced at the navicomputer, her brow furrowing. Eleven miles to go. She could outrun them, but then they'd just turn around and come back with reinforcements.

"We better do as they say," she said, pulling over on the side of the road. "You Jedi are reluctant to kill, right? Can only be in self-defense. That's why you use your mind trick on people, to get out of situations like this..."

From the speeder behind them there emerged a squad of Mandalorians, all of them wearing the telltale T-visor helmets and armor. They approached the land speeder cautiously, blasters drawn. As one Mando walked up to the driver's side, Jaina rolled down her window and put on a fake smile. "Hello, officer."

"You're under arrest for the theft of this supply speeder," the Mando said. "Get out of the vehicle now."

Aron Brood​

 

[Aron Brood]

"We better do as they say," she said, pulling over on the side of the road. "You Jedi are reluctant to kill, right? Can only be in self-defense. That's why you use your mind trick on people, to get out of situations like this..."

Again, she seemed familiar with the Jedi. He suspected her question was a formality. She already knew the answer.

"Something like that," he replied. "If it comes to that."

Aron left Master Trengsin behind, but his training lingered. Self-discipline and restraint were drilled into him. Mother Askani's lessons, her doctrine of the Jedi Ronin, only solidified that philosophy. Meaning, he'd explore other avenues to resolve the situation before he resorted to the Force. And there was no telling if that would even work. Mando's were brutes, but they weren't stupid.

"You're under arrest for the theft of this supply speeder," the Mando said. "Get out of the vehicle now."

Raising his hands, Aron complied and stepped out of the vehicle. He made a subtle show in his movements, a slightly exaggerated swagger, letting the metal of his lightsaber hilt flash against the Dxun sun. It wasn't intended as a threat, but a badge of authority. He was a Jedi in Alliance territory. That had to count for something.

"We're on Jedi business," he said simply, hoping that would be enough.

Jaina Grayson​

 

[Jaina Grayson]

If it comes to that, he said. Well, she was no Jedi, but she had a bad feeling about this...

Jaina opened the door, stepped out of the vehicle, and stood with her hands held up in surrender. If they tried to restrain her, she would've fought back, but so far they seemed content with merely pointing their guns in her face.

"We're on Jedi business."

The leader of the squad saw the lightsaber, but he wasn't as intimidated as perhaps he should have been. After all, Jedi operated according to a code of ethics. They were peacekeepers, not fearsome warriors. Not like the mighty Mandalorians. "Then you should be willing to explain why you're driving off with supplies from a refugee camp, Master Jedi," he said.

"We have reason to believe your Commander is deliberately withholding supplies from another camp," Jaina said. "We were told Camp Thesh does not exist. But Master Jedi can sense it. There are people out there suffering, and their cries are being ignored." She had decided to spill the beans. Either the news would cast doubt in their Commander's leadership, or they would prove themselves her loyal lackeys.

The squad leader looked at her, his T-visor an emotionless mask. "I'm sure the Commander has her reasons," he said.

Aron Brood​

 

[Aron Brood]

Aron opened his mouth to speak but Jaina boldly cut in. No theatrics, just the honest truth. The squad leader was unmoved by the accusation, his T-visor glaring at them. Bootlickers, Aron thought disdainfully. But, in their defense, it wasn't like the pair had concrete evidence to present.

"What possible reasons could she have for deliberately withholding supplies?" he asked with a chiseled glint in his eyes. "These people are just trying to survive. They're not enemies. We're talking about a refugee camp, not a battlefield." If appealing to authority didn't work, Aron hoped appealing to honor would.

Jaina Grayson​

 

[Jaina Grayson]

"What possible reasons could she have for deliberately withholding supplies?"

"Perhaps you'll get to ask the Commander yourself," the Mandalorian replied. "You're under arrest for stealing the speeder."

It made perfect sense. As far as these soldiers knew, they were either thieves or lunatics chasing after a place that didn't exist. Aron hadn't exactly pulled through either. A cooler Jedi Knight would've mind-tricked these suckers into letting them pass unhindered from the word go. Regardless, Jaina wasn't going to just go along with them back to Camp Resh. Not without a fight. "First I need to use the 'fresher," she said with a grimace.

"You can use it when we get there."

"It's an emergency," she pressed. "Unless you want me making a mess in your speeder, I gotta go now."

The Mandalorian hesitated for about half a second before he gestured to one of his soldiers, a woman. "Take her over there to do her business. You have five minutes."

Jaina nodded, suppressing a grin as she was escorted away. Five minutes was plenty of time.

Aron Brood​

 

[Aron Brood]

The Mandalorians weren't taking the bait. Aron grimaced, his disdain for their blind obedience apparent. But he couldn't detect any malicious intent. They were working with what information they had and he couldn't blame them for their skepticism. So, he wasn't quite ready to resort to mind tricks or cracking skulls. But his patience was wearing thin.

Jaina was schemin', clearly not intending to take this lying down, as she headed off to 'relieve' herself with an escort in tow. Did she really think she could take a Mandalorian one-on-one? Aron raised a brow, more curious and amused than worried.

While he waited for that situation to shake out, Aron put his arms behind his back, ready to be cuffed.

Jaina Grayson​

 

[Jaina Grayson]

The female Mando led them away from the road, stopping just barely past the trees. "Do your business here," she said.

"Will you turn around?" Jaina asked. When the Mando just looked at her, she added, "Are you really going to watch?"

The Mando said nothing. She kept staring. Jaina sighed and made like she was going to crouch down—only to lunge at the Mando's legs, knocking her over.

A struggle ensued. Jaina managed to wrestle the blaster away, but not before the Mando shot her in the shoulder. The bolt burned through her leather jacket, piercing her flesh before emerging out of her back. Yet Jaina didn't flinch. She felt no pain. With cold precision, she pressed the barrel of the gun to the Mando's neck and pulled the trigger, killing her instantly.

She had no doubt the sounds of blaster fire had already drawn the attention of the others. Quickly grabbing any remaining weapons and other useful gear from the body, Jaina fled deeper into the jungle, hiding behind a tree. The wound in her shoulder had already begun to heal. She crouched down. It would've only taken her two minutes. If the Mando had just turned around, she wouldn't have had to kill her...

Aron Brood​

 

[Aron Brood]

The Mandalorian squad leader was about to lock the cuffs around Aron's wrists when the sound of blaster fire erupted.

Aron sighed. "Sorry about this," he muttered earnestly.

With the squad leader suddenly distracted, the young Jedi brought his fists under the Mandalorian's chin, knocking him back. Taking one long stride forward, Aron grabbed the two other Mandalorians by their helmets and slammed their heads together, knocking them unconscious.

With only half a second to spare, Aron spun on his heel and lunged forward, tackling the squad leader to the mud-soaked ground. The pair wrestled in the moist dirt. Aron was reluctant to use his lightsaber so fists, elbows, and knees sufficed. Eventually Aron got the upper hand, removed the Mandalorian's helmet, and choked him out.

After gathering the Mandalorians' weapons and comlinks and tossing them in the back of the speeder, Aron clumsily hopped into the driver's side (he banged his big ass head on the roof not once, but twice). Then he sped off towards the tree line where Jaina had kicked off this clusterfuck.

Jaina Grayson​

 

[Jaina Grayson]

Two of the Mandos had broken away from the group, following the sounds of gunfire. They ran into the woods while Aron dealt with the squad leader and two other remaining soldiers.

It wasn't long before they found their dead comrade. One bent down to check her pulse, and immediately felt the hole in her neck. "Dead. Weapons missing. Be advised, the Twi'lek is armed."

His companion had a sudden sense that they were being watched. He looked around, blaster raised, searching the trees. “We need to—”

Something leaped out of the jungle, but it was no Twi'lek. A hulking figure blazed into view, moving so fast they looked like a blur of red against the thick green foliage. The shape quickly resolved itself into that of a Devaronian woman, tall and muscular and wielding their dead comrade's vibroblade.

The male Mando's last sight before she cut off his head was of her grinning face looming over him, sharp fangs glinting.

Horrified, the other Mando opened fire. The Devaronian moved too fast for most of the bolts to hit, but a few lucky shots managed to strike her. Yet any damage dealt to her gleaming red flesh seemingly did little to slow her down. With a cry of “Catch!” she kicked the other Mando's severed head, still wearing the trademark Mando helmet, into the face of his horrified squadmate. Beskar collided with beskar, making a loud sound like a gong being struck. The impact was enough to disorient them while the Devaronian moved in for the kill...

Seconds later, she emerged from the tree line to quite a scene. The supply speeder was gone, Aron was nowhere to be seen, and the roadside was strewn with the bodies of the other Mandos. Jaina looked around, still finding no trace of her comrade or the supply speeder. "What the fuck, man?" she muttered to herself. "Did you just leave me here?"

To be fair, she no longer had the same appearance of the woman he knew as Jaina. Covered in blood and loaded up with even more looted weapons, she looked downright monstrous. Yet the expression on her face was awkward and bashful, perhaps even a bit embarrassed as she approached the nearest Mando. Her sensors picked up on signs of life. Aron had left them alive, just unconscious.

"And to think I killed three of 'em back there." She sighed. "You Jedi really know how to make a girl feel like she overdid it..."

But he had put her in a difficult position. Upon waking, these Mandos would return to their camp with word of the supply thieves who had killed half their squad. It would only bring them even more trouble. In the end, Jaina would feel better walking away from this having left no survivors. Her mouth set in a bitter, grim line, she raised her vibroblade and brought it down on the sleeping Mando's neck...

 

[Jaina Grayson]

After the grisly work was done, Jaina took the Mandalorians' speeder and headed in the direction where Aron believed the hidden camp to be. She hoped to meet up with the Jedi there, and get to the bottom of the mystery once and for all.

As she drove, she mulled over the events of the day. This wasn't at all how she had planned things to go. Jaina Grayson, certified shapeshifting vampiric biot assassin, was actually trying to avoid killing people. It was why she had signed on with the Foundation as a pilot, ferrying supplies to refugee camps rather than marching on some battlefield. But for someone like her, a being built for violence, it often proved hard to avoid.

In the past her idea of a "vacation" had involved culling those her programming deemed unworthy of life. For many years, she had gotten her kicks from hunting down Mawite remnants. It was therapeutic, doing what she should have done on Lao-mon. But as time wore on and their numbers thinned, she had run out of people she could justify murdering. The age of the cringey edgelord with no redeeming qualities had ended. Nowadays people clutched their pearls and wrung their hands over violence, somehow compelled to feel sympathy for villains who, honestly? Didn't deserve a fucking ounce of it.

Jaina had been forced to change with the times, even if it brought back difficult memories from her past she had tried to bury. Part of her would always crave destruction and death. But even she had to admit that not everything could be solved with a big gun or an even bigger sword.

Yet here she was, knocking tyrannical heads together once again. Why the hell it was Mandalorians, she didn't know. Weren't these guys supposed to be the good ones, anyway? Eh, who was she kidding. If there was one thing all Mandos had in common, it was that they suffered an identity crisis every few years...

Her olfactory sensors registered the camp long before she caught sight of it amid the jungles ahead. A cocktail of odorous molecules—mud, shit, and unwashed bodies—hit her like a truck. She was glad she had no real sense of smell, and felt pity for anyone within sniffing distance. But it also proved, more or less, that this was indeed the place she was looking for.

A refugee camp appeared below her as she climbed the crest of a hill. Located in what might be termed an awkward position at the bottom of the mound, it had borne the brunt of the recent rainfall and subsequent runoff. Parts of the camp were knee-deep in muddy water. Jaina didn’t need her higher knowledge databases to realize it must be a nightmare for sanitation and a breeding ground for disease.

Whoever the hell thought this was a good spot to put a refugee camp must be either hopelessly incompetent, or one evil motherfucker, she thought. There was simply no excuse. Heading down the steep incline, she spotted the supply speeder she and Aron had "stolen" right outside the camp entrance—but still no sign of Aron.

Instead, the speeder was swarmed with refugees. Their clothes were dirty rags hanging from emaciated frames. Reduced to a state of desperation, the starving and the sick scrambled to grab as much food and medicine as they could.

Jaina parked her vehicle and got out, cautiously approaching the crowd. "Hey," she called. "Is this Camp Thesh?"

Silence fell. The refugees froze, staring at her fearfully. Massive, muscular, and still covered in the drying blood of her enemies, she was a terrifying sight to behold.

Normally in a situation like this she would’ve snuck away to switch to one of her friendlier Forms—probably the soft and sweet Civilian with her lush pheromones and psychology databases, or maybe the plucky and pretty Twi'lek Pilot she had charmed Aron with. Her current Warrior Form wasn’t the most approachable persona. But taking on a completely different look would draw more questions than she was willing to answer, and playing nice in her Combat Form felt oddly gratifying in a way.

No one responded to her question, evidently too frightened, though the answer seemed obvious. "Could I speak to your leader?" Jaina asked. If you've got one...

A figure in the crowd stepped forward. “That would be me,” he said. “I’m the closest thing this camp's got to an elected representative."

Jaina stared at him, mouth slightly agape. The man standing before her was downright gorgeous, with a head of soft white curls and stormy gray eyes. He was as sickly as the rest of them and his clothes had seen better days, but it looked like he had made an effort to appear presentable despite his circumstances.

“My name is Aramis,” he introduced himself with a little bow. His voice was pleasant and he spoke with a refined Hapan noble's accent. “Who are you?”

"I'm Jaina. I'm with the Foundation. I was supposed to bring supplies here, but the Mandos claimed your camp didn't exist and confiscated the goods. A Jedi friend of mine and I managed to get this here speeder to you, although we got separated along the way."

"A pleasure to meet you, Jaina. And thank you. You've saved our lives. Your Jedi friend left this here and headed into the jungle." Jaina was still trying to process why the hell Aron had just walked off and left the speeder here without even bothering to distribute the supplies when Aramis' expression darkened. "The Mandalorians have been denying us supplies for some time. They are deliberately trying to wipe us out."

“I was gonna say—this is the worst refugee camp I've ever seen. It would make my manager shit a brick.” She gestured to the camp with a broad sweep of her arm. “Do you know why the Mandos are doing this?”

Aramis inclined his head toward the camp's entrance. "Walk with me, and I will tell you everything I know."