I'm From the Hegemony and I'm Here to Help

[Caulder Dune]

RAXUS SYSTEM
ON BOARD THE MACHINATOR, IN ORBIT OF RAXUS SECUNDUS

Once upon a time, Gerion Ardik had governed this system. This was all back in his early days as a meager little servant f the old Sith Empire, when he was still trying to distinguish himself through stalwart civil service. The planetary government enjoyed his jurisdiction, as he wasn't there to suck resources from it to fuel his own personal ambitions. Tyrin had a desire to leave things better off than he found them, and he'd done that much when he left his seat as governor of the Raxus System and ascended to a higher (albeit now broken) throne. If there was one mantra Tyrin (or Gerion, Adekos, whatever he happened to call himself) lived by, it was to- at any cost -leave things in a better state than when he had found them.

Clearly, the Silver Jedi felt no such obligations.

Because when the galaxy descended into chaos, the Silver Jedi made no move to relieve the system. No, they had better things to do. Who then, would the struggling parliament of Raxus Secundus reach out to in their time of need? Truth be told, they didn't have to "reach out" to anyone. The Tionese Whiteguard were already present in the system, as they were throughout Tion, and had already begun coordinating with local government forces to restore order in capital city- all on behalf of the Hegemony, of course.

Not at all blind to the fact that the Silver Jedi wouldn't be coming to help them, Raxus Secundus still sent its distress calls right to the Tion Hegemony. Gerion was not a native to the Tion Cluster. Not even close, but he was greatly more fond of it than the rest of the galaxy. So when a Tionese planet needed help, he was going to give it. With. Gusto.

The situation in Lianna and a few other Tionese worlds had begun to stabilize by this point, so Gerion had no qualms in flying here with the ever-pleasant [member="Sasha Santhe"] in order to coordinate the relief effort of the planet. This would be a splendid opportunity to see Raxus Secundus, and by extension the Raxus System, become a signatory of the Rudrig Proclamation and thus bar the Silver Jedi from any more of their asinine colonization attempts.

The Machinator lurched out of hyperspace, burdened with supplies, droids, and another detachment of the Tionese Whiteguard. They were mostly for publicity, but what good publicity it would be.

"Time to get to work."

 

[Sasha Santhe]

The Machinator, which was by Sasha’s estimation a horrible name for the giant lucrehulk, had jumped into the Raxus System. Tyrin, for whom she no doubt knew the vessel had been named, never struck her as a particularly skilled plotter. Male ego’s. She groaned silently to herself at the thought. And the ship itself. It was huge. What was he compensating for? She knew of course, it was what most men compensated for.

She gave an appraising glance to the man beside her. He was pretty useless in a fight, and if he’d ever won one she hadn’t heard about it. Scrunching her nose and narrowing her eyes she thought about his company. They made an adequate product. That was a point in his favor. And the ship they were in could carry a lot of supplies. “I suppose you aren’t useless,” she declared aloud. “So we shuttle supplies to the surface and round up the worse elements?”

Sasha frowned and looked in a small pocket mirror. She needed to look her best for the press. “We should take a shuttle down to the spaceport, get some good images of us handing out supplies to the natives?”

[member="Gerion Ardik"]

 

[Caulder Dune]

[member="Sasha Santhe"]

Gerion looked at Sasha, more perplexed than outraged by her telling him he wasn't useless. It wasn't so much the abruptness of the statement or the fact he missed the inner mologue leading up to it. It was more the fact that Gerion was absolutely sure that this was the single nicest thing Sasha Santhe had ever said to another sapient creature. Were there cameras on this bridge? Did they have a setting that could detect whether or not Santhe's heart, at that moment, had suddenly ceased being an inescapable black hole of maliciousness for just long enough to say something that could reasonably be construed as... Nice? Or, more likely, this was just a human replica droid she had sent, as her delicate Santhe hands were not fit for the kind of labor they were to undertake.

"I don't intend to hand out supplies myself. Though, being the photogenic one among us, you'd be apt for the task." As Gerion spoke, a holoscreen opened up before them and he began to swipe through the interface. "I intend to coordinate efforts from here. Once we get patched through to whoever has taken charge on the planet's surface."

 

[Sasha Santhe]

Sasha sighed loudly at Tyrins wish to remain on the ship. Of course he did. She thought about it for a moment and he did bring up some good points. It was true she was much prettier than Tyrin. And a lot less old. Biting her lower lip and narrowing her eyes she considered for a moment. “Make sure to get some recording units up here, do an interview.” And then she stared intently at the elderly mans face. His hair was his best feature, you could tell he took care of it. But… “Your skin is greasy. You look like a fat man rubbed all over you. You’ll need to dry it out or use some makeup to cover it if you’re to look presentable.”

She wanted to ask him about hair products, but refused, utterly refused to debase herself in such a manner. Well maybe sarcastically at some other juncture of time. "Prep me a shuttle. I'm going to the surface."

 

[Caulder Dune]

[member="Sasha Santhe"]

Gerion frowned, which wasn't usually a hard thing to do, but it became substantially easier whenever Sasha Santhe opened her mouth. Should he have expected such an illustrious almost-compliment from Santhe would inevitably only precede something of the harshest caliber of cruelty? Yes, but like the Silver Jedi he sometimes had to delude himself into thinking good things could happen without disproportionately bad things taking place shortly after. A hand went up to his face, gently touching the skin (scrunched from the deep frown) as he tried to search for this phantom grease he had heard nothing about until now.

"Yes... Of course." He eventually ended his search, turning to one of the innumerable OOM droids that ran his Lucrehulk. "Please prep Miss Santhe's shuttle for..."

Exploding shortly after leaving the hangar.

Tragic life support systems failure.

"Take off, sir?"

"Take off. Yes."

Take off her head.

With a lightsaber.

 

[Sasha Santhe]

Sasha let out a sigh at the man. He was so infuriating. Every word out of his mouth, in addition to being nearly as moronic as [member="Jared Ovmar"]'s new name for his company was just... infuriating. Of course he was one of the few she held a sliver of respect for, but that didn't change the fact that he was so annoying. He reminded her of ... well not her father... but something close. Judging all the time, she imagined he was judging her even now. Judgemental much? O-M-G.

Narrowing her eyes she looked at the man, [member="Gerion Ardik"], and looked down at her little bag she carried with her. Rummaging through it she found several items. "Exfoliant," she said handing a tube to him. Then another, "And this is a conditioner. It will help with those split ends." Frowning she looked back at him, "And here are some vitimin pills. They are garenteed to help keep your hair thick and full." And then she turned and walked out.

The shuttle was ready and it was an unevental trip to the planets surface. Supplied were loaded onto the shuttle and several others like it.

Sasha sat at the door and handed out food to those needy ones who came to her next to a doctor doing quick evaluations and prescribing medications from his own landed shuttle.

"I should have been a doctor," she said barely loud enough for a camera nearby to pick up, "If I were a doctor I could do more to help...."

An elderly Arkanian man who looked suspiciously like Tyrin with poor hair spoke up, "It's alright Miss Santhe, we know you do what you can."

She handed him a days ration with a well practiced smile. Crocadile tears.