Private Fire in Space

[Syd Celsius]

Wearing: 451 Suit

Wind and Fire Wheels

Aboard: SpacePlex Space Station

The general rule of thumb was, if you found a derelict station, and you had the means, it was generally yours to keep.

There were so many derelicts out here people would never run out of real estate. Not in her lifetime anyway.

Beyond her Anonymous aid of Civilians these days, Syd lived in a sort of Exile, crafting for herself the identity of an outer rim doctor aboard a salvaged space station over an airless moon on the borders of former SJC space. It had become a relay point for those fleeing the faction's collapse.

She had begun to take medical supplies for donations to treat the I'll and sick. So many in pain. She found herself working constantly.

It helped her not think too hard on her roll in the fall of Laertia Io

As Syd made her daily rounds, checking on the most sickly and I'll, she was tempted to try and use magic to treat some of the injuries, her eyes fell on a young girl who seemedlist and confused. She was tempted to move one but the look in her eye, made Syd pause and approach, her skin tight red and gold metallic catsuit hidden by a gown of green armorweave, making her exotic Atrisian features coupled with her fiery red hair all the more noticeable.

"Excuse me?" she called out Wes , trying to be polite, not quite certain why she had stopped at this one, seemingly healthy woman with all the injured about.

"Are you alright? You look like you are in a bit of distress..."

Okay, so maybe she didn't look it, but Syd felt... confusion... uncertainty...all the same.

 

[Wes]

es looked about, at the gaggle of refugees she’d found herself mixed in with. Able bodied as she was, she’d done her best to help those around her, supporting the injured as they walked and offering to carry what few belongings they had. In moments of rest, she sat and listened to the others telling stories of the Galaxy. And now, aboard this space station, everyone was finally getting settled into their temporary home.

With a sigh, she realized there was nothing left to do, at least nothing obvious. Everyone and their things were accounted for, and she hadn’t the knowledge to help anyone’s injuries. The buzz of activity as the small station’s staff began their work attending to the refugees began to be drowned out by Wes’s thoughts.

What was she to do now? She could hardly stay following this group around, especially when most were in need of long-term medical care. But she didn’t know anyone, or anything, to try and center herself around. Maybe she could find some commercial crew to work with, or go to some metropolis in search of work. Make new friends there, or maybe she could fly among the stars with a tight-knit band like she’d heard one of the others talking about. Maybe she could--

"Excuse me?"

Wes perked up, looking at the stately woman who'd broken her train of thought.

"Are you alright? You look like you are in a bit of distress..."​

“Oh! Um…” The young woman replied timidly. “I think so? I’m not really sure. I was helping everyone get moved but now…”

She picked up again after trailing. “I don’t really know what to do.”


Syd Celsius

 

[Syd Celsius]

Syd could sympathize with being uncertain like Wes was. Sometimes she didn't know what to do either. But she was trying to be helpful. That was a start.

"I could use help offloading medical supplies due to be here in the next hour. Perhaps you could help me? Syd suggested in a friendly smile. Syd herself was perfectly capable of seeing to it alone.

But Syd was also desperate for someone to talk to. Desperate, for a simple friendly face to be familiar around...