Faction Lift Me Up [THR/TJO/Do-Gooders]

[Colette]

The perks of being the chief quartermaster was that Colette was keenly aware of every single facet of the Order's entire inventory other than the inventory of the Shadows. That meant that Colette could plan and rearrange as needed for contingencies and leisures alike, which for the moment leaned more into the latter rather than the former.

Seeing as it wouldn't do the Jedi Order any good to devolve into decadence and complacency, something had to change. Their food stocks had outgrown them, their medical supplies had started to gather dust on shelves in their storehouses. A lesser being would have hoarded it for a 'rainy day', but a better one would have shared it, and that was exactly what Colette planned to do.

The recipient: Froswythe
The donation: Ample
The service offered in return: Eased refugee passage

With the Sith Covenant's march into the Core Worlds and with the general disarray of the galaxy there were countless amounts of displaced citizens fleeing for their lives. Entire generations had been upended as memories burned to ash in the chaos. Rather than risk the refugees falling prey to malicious actors it was decided that a temporary logistics hub would be set up on Froswythe where people could be looked after before they continued on their trek further into the republic.

To that end, a few stations were set up around the bigger settlements on Froswythe; the ones that had their own spaceports. There would be wounded needed seeing to, hungry that needed to be fed, and streets which needed to be patrolled to keep nefarious individuals away. An impossible task for a few, a stressful walk in the park for the many. And that was the good part about coming together as a community to provide help: there was never any shortage of volunteers once the avalanche of goodwill had begun.

Objective 1

Give me your tired and poor

The worst leg of the journey towards a new home has passed. A massive tent town has been erected outside of Froswythe City wherein refugees can find food, blankets, and other supplies they might need in order to begin calming down and truly settle into their new reality.

Suggestions for what you can do:

• Man the soup kitchen, feed the hungry.
• Listen to their stories, learn so that we remember what we fight for.

Objective 2

Give me the huddled and sick

Not all who flee are so lucky to be alive. The Sith and Imperials are cunning if not outright ruthless bastards and these folks are all too aware of it. Bio-weapons, laser burns, or simply fire. Suffering can take many shapes, but you are willing to help shape it back into something better.

Suggestions for what you can do:

• Treat the injured, triage the wounded.
• Help deliver medicine to others, if you aren't a healer yourself but still want to help.

Objective 3

Remove the refuse from teeming shores

The announcement of a safe haven never comes without issue. Predatory individuals, the scum of the earth, are more often than not drawn to these places. Hungry to feast on their desperation, your calling might just be to keep the streets clean and the weak from falling prey to their machinations.

Suggestions for what you can do:

• Discover a conspiracy, resolve it on our terms.
• Catch a thief, their stolen goods are now forfeit.

BYOO

Give me those tempest-tossed

Of course, not all who arrive are equipped for the types of misery that can be experienced in a refugee camp. Perhaps your calling isn't so much for direct action as much as indirect. Maybe you just want to take in the moment, or perhaps you're just happy to be there. Either way, this objective is your oyster and we're happy to have you.

Suggestions for what you can do:

• Convince local elites to provide more help, they can afford it.
• Make up your own thing, do your own race.

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Objective 2 | Open
​

Corazona had not entered a refugee camp since early on in her pregnancy. When the Alliance had fallen, hundreds upon thousands of civilians spilled into Republic territory, desperately seeking refuge. Now that the Covenant had swept into the core, those numbers swelled once again.

"Easy," she murmured, low and soft. It was difficult to tell if this patient was male or female, at first – so grisly were their burns. A survivor of the Tapani massacre, but being a survivor wasn't the same as being lucky. A strained groan wavered on raw vocal chords as she ever so gently tested the hem of a pant leg.

Fused to skin.

"Shh," Cora whispered, laying her fingers atop their forehead, careful to keep her touch to the little patch of flesh that remained intact.

She had to remind herself that this wasn't like after Ilum, where they had limited supplies and personnel. She'd had to make tough decisions, then. Had to sort through those who had a chance from those who wouldn't make it.

They had resources here – and this person may live yet. May. May.

A cooling sensation akin to menthol would wash over the patient, soothing burns and blisters. It wouldn't take the pain away entirely, but it would lessen the sting. Make it more manageable.

"This one needs a bacta tank," she said, waving over a medic. "I can't find any undamaged skin for an injectable, so they'll need an antibiotic additive."

 

[Andromeda Demir]

OBJECTIVE 3 | OPEN​

Andromeda Demir was not in full Jedi costume today.

Black, high-waisted slacks tucked into rugged boots. A dark navy work shirt was tucked into her trousers, the top button undone, collar slightly ajar. Her dark hair was pulled into a braid, secured by a dark brown braided leather strap, a single bottle-green Irvulixi slag bead serving as a subtle decoration. She wore a dark jacket and a pair of black gloves, and her lightsaber hung from the belt slung low over her hip, and she carried a dinged-up metal clipboard, the kind with a small compartment that could be opened and sealed, and she tapped the paper on it anxiously.

"Are these the last?" she called to the men who were maneuvering the crates toward the warehouse door. They grunted something in the affirmative and Andromeda frowned at the paperwork on her clipboard. That can't be right. "There should be another crate of the painkillers and two more of the bacta applicators."

The two men paused long enough to pretend to look at the crates, shrugged, and trundled off toward the medical tent.

Andromeda watched them go, then returned to the medical shelves, looking for the missing crates. When she didn't find them, she looked at other areas in the warehouse, thinking they might be misplaced. Then she went to the battered terminal and checked the records. No, there they were, entered into the system as received. She keyed through the records and frowned. They were entered again as damaged, then disposed. There were a familiar set of initials next to that entry, the Jedi that had supervised the disposal. AD. Andromeda Demir.

"Okay," she told the terminal on a sigh. "So this is going to be a whole thing now."

OPEN to interactions​

 

[Vif Hozz]

[Objective 1]
Equipment: Training Saber, Misc.
TAGS: OPEN

What a day to be a Jedi...
​

Any and all help was needed around here. The hungry, sick, and dying littered the place, and such a sight is always a hard one for a young Padawan like himself. But, it was also a needed opportunity for experience. This shows the reality of the galaxy, how real people can have their entire lives flipped upside down. And it was his duty to help them.

While he wasn't exactly the best cook this side of the galaxy, if you're someone who desperately needs foods, you're normally willing to take whatever you can get. As such, he was instructed to help out at the kitchens, serving food to the hungry. While he personally would've preferred to help the ones who were hurt, that was a bit out of his skillset, at the moment.

So instead, he was filling up bowls, handing out snacks and drinks, and adding maybe a bit too much spice to the pots.

A bowl and snack were handed over to a woman. "Here you go, ma'am." She took it with a nod, and wandered off someplace else to eat.

"Next in line."