Tenac
Grumani Sector, Planet Jutrand, Harvana Harvest Event Podracing Rotunda
Then
Mass panic and unrest was to be expected in the few hours following the terrorist attack, but fortunately for those coordinating evacuation efforts, the Havac Elite had yet to resurface after detonating multiple explosions along the surface of the city-planet. Here and now, the force was strong, an audible echo of fear and loss within the minds of the Jedi dispatched to rescue those in the targeted areas. For all their wisdom and power, Jedi alone would not be enough to wrangle in such a disaster, those in official positions of authority granting landing clearance to known and nearby vessels capable of rendering aid.
The expansive streets surrounding the rotunda worked well as a makeshift landing zone, allowing medical vessels to touch down and treat the injured, while land and airspeeders ferried others to safety. Everyone on scene was on high alert, but there were always those opportunists, able to take advantage of the chaos and turn it to their favor.
The pair of large airspeeders resting upon the wide metallic road were nearly full, and ready for lift off, when Commander Krotan heard what might be a tracker tone, it's beeping pace increasing as it eventually drew closer. Lifting an arm and waving to the pilots, the man hastily ushered the vehicles to take-off, a thin layer of sweat forming upon his brow as his hand hovered near his holster belt. As the speeders lifted up into the air, the datapad
Arekk
held began to calm, it's incessant beeps slowing as the distance between man and vehicle grew further.
Krotan had always known that linking the airspeeder IFF transponders to match his CR70's, regardless of the questionable legality, would prove useful someday. Was the younger man before him some sort of bounty hunter, tracking a target? It wouldn't be much of a surprise, even during a situation as unfortunate as the one that Jutrand found itself in. Despite the revulsion he felt brought upon by his own assumption, Krotan proceeded professionally and with caution, stepping away from the landing zone, amidst the slowly thinning crowds of officials and injured.
"You don't look hurt, son. Tensions are high here, and there's a lot of work to be done." Perhaps the younger, roguish-looking man who was clearly after something, could be convinced to leave without making a scene.
Then

Mass panic and unrest was to be expected in the few hours following the terrorist attack, but fortunately for those coordinating evacuation efforts, the Havac Elite had yet to resurface after detonating multiple explosions along the surface of the city-planet. Here and now, the force was strong, an audible echo of fear and loss within the minds of the Jedi dispatched to rescue those in the targeted areas. For all their wisdom and power, Jedi alone would not be enough to wrangle in such a disaster, those in official positions of authority granting landing clearance to known and nearby vessels capable of rendering aid.
The expansive streets surrounding the rotunda worked well as a makeshift landing zone, allowing medical vessels to touch down and treat the injured, while land and airspeeders ferried others to safety. Everyone on scene was on high alert, but there were always those opportunists, able to take advantage of the chaos and turn it to their favor.
The pair of large airspeeders resting upon the wide metallic road were nearly full, and ready for lift off, when Commander Krotan heard what might be a tracker tone, it's beeping pace increasing as it eventually drew closer. Lifting an arm and waving to the pilots, the man hastily ushered the vehicles to take-off, a thin layer of sweat forming upon his brow as his hand hovered near his holster belt. As the speeders lifted up into the air, the datapad

Krotan had always known that linking the airspeeder IFF transponders to match his CR70's, regardless of the questionable legality, would prove useful someday. Was the younger man before him some sort of bounty hunter, tracking a target? It wouldn't be much of a surprise, even during a situation as unfortunate as the one that Jutrand found itself in. Despite the revulsion he felt brought upon by his own assumption, Krotan proceeded professionally and with caution, stepping away from the landing zone, amidst the slowly thinning crowds of officials and injured.
"You don't look hurt, son. Tensions are high here, and there's a lot of work to be done." Perhaps the younger, roguish-looking man who was clearly after something, could be convinced to leave without making a scene.