Faction Light at the bottom of the world

[Loske Treicolt]

Coruscant
Lower Levels​

Charlsy was having a rather typical commute home. He was crossing the chasm between levels, and humming along to the audio projectors of his topless speeder. His favourite disc jockey, on his favourite station, had just made a dedication to a couple that were undergoing some tumultuous times, with the promise that this next song would soothe any sort of exasperation between them. The way the DJ, Wolfman Jack, spoke was cacophonous, and like he’d had a few shots of Whyren’s reserve before he started work. Something Charlsy wished he could get away with. He was about to go on a mental journey of the potential outcomes if drinking before clocking in, and how furious his manager would be, when a scream interrupted the melodic rhythm of the song and his speeder dipped its nose downward and a body dropped from the sky and into his passenger seat.

He slammed on the brakes out of surprise and spiralled out of the primary commuter lane. Several speeders behind him honked angrily, a few shook their fists, but they all continued on their merry way. His eyes were bulging in the shock of the occurrence, looking at the moocher who had dropped from the artificial sky to bum a ride. His already wrinkly brow deepened with frustration as he shifted to look at the intruder. He’d paid good money to get the cream leather, and if it was at all damaged by some freak incident, he’d be mortified and furious. Deux ex Machina was not covered by Coruscanti insurance at this level.

Strewn about the leather upholstery of his passenger seat, was a woman who looked to be in her early twenties, pretty, and looked to be unconscious. Couldn’t believe his luck! He was suddenly far less agitated than he’d been when he’d first spiralled out of control, and his expression piqued something more akin to interest. To his dismay-slash-horror-slash-relief the woman groaned and her eyes fluttered open.

The first thing Loske realized was that her head was pounding and her spine was pulsing painfully. The next, was how splayed her landing had been. One foot was on the dashboard of a speeder, the other was over the door. She scooched herself up by some miracle of not having any breaking bones. She groaned again, and looked straight up from whence she came, frowning and squinting.

“Are you alright?” Charlsy asked, leaning away from the intruder rather than in.

“Hnnnng..good thing you have such plush seats.. no..I..” She drew her legs in and sat in the seat as if she truly were a passenger, although she wasn’t looking at the driver at all, she was too busy looking up.

There were a few bursts of emerald plasma in their direction, one scorched the headrest of the passenger seat -- cauterizing clean through the creamy leather that Charlsy held so dear. He shrieked, and Loske had no choice but to quickly leverage herself out of the seat with an apology to the driver as she fell away.

Her augmented leap brought her to the edge of one of the levels, legs dangling down to the endless, cavernous abyss that lead eventually to Coruscant’s core. In the meantime, she grunted while transferrin her strength to her arms with concentrated effort to haul herself over the edge and crawling to her stomach, spending a handful of seconds catching her breath. She was now one level lower than where the refugee camp was, and where this whole thing had started. Her lead had zipped away and she’d narrowly avoided death.

Asher

OOC Info:

Spoiler

MISSION: THE REFUGEES PLIGHT
General concept: Thousands of refugees have come to Coruscant in hopes of restarting their lives after the announcement of the Grayson Imperium. This has resulted in many of the camps growing overcrowded.

Plans have been set to transition the refugees into proper civilian life, but these plans have been halted by a string of organized terror attacks throughout the camps. The people are terrified, and the possibility of a full scale riot breaking out just beneath Coruscant's surface is a very real responsibility.

Mystery Hunters

The Imperium has sent a small team to investigate these crimes to find the men behind them, and discover their reasoning for undertaking such vile actions. We're looking for good actors hunting down the answers, and bad actors who could play an anti-hero role.

Team:
Loske Treicolt (Split up)


Riot Stoppers

The people are in full fledged terror. The underground forces require further calming that The Imperium has the people's best interests at heart. Medics are required, as well as any politicians that have a silver tongue to keep the refugees at ease.

Team:
Cataline Holt
ECDT-999

 

[Asher]

Loske Treicolt

It was well underway then. Much like anyone who had survived on the lower levels would assume, the change in government didn’t come easy. Many disagreed with the change, many rallied to the cause, and in the end it was usually the former that ended up flooding the streets where Asher lived. As of late the tensions had become a little too much to handle. It was hardly something that would be fixed overnight, but Asher wouldn’t be making the moves he otherwise did if he didn’t believe in the idea that things would change some day.

The Soup Kitchen was a good first step, but the current plan was hardly going to make anything better for these refugees. They needed to be smart about it, and smart according to Asher was to turn the heat off this boiling cauldron. Whatever a cauldron was, some form of cooking device? Regardless of what it was that a cauldron was, Asher was making his way through the crowded streets heading for the refugee camp to see what he could do to help. He was no medic, no security guard, but he certainly had a pretty firm grasp on the concept of acquisitions and the moving of property. You had to be if you grew up in the ventilation shafts around these parts.

To his surprise the walk was disrupted by the sound of a body falling. By all accounts a common sound, people knew better than to look, but not Asher. He turned a corner and pressed onwards heading towards a small crowd that began to gather around what seemed to be another poor soul that had been tossed from one of the upper levels. Only question was if it was a hundred story goodbye or the person’s own stupidity.

Given that they seemed to move beneath the passive stares of the gathering crowd the latter felt all the more likely. Asher pushed past the people, his elbow digging into any sides he could find to make a way forward.

“Come on people,” He said as he pushed into the front and extended his hand towards Loske. “It doesn’t hurt to help other-”

He turned to look at her, his hand still extended for her to grasp.

Asher cleared his throat and a not-so-subtle grin spread on his lips.

“Why, hello there. Nice to meet you, Miss…?”

 

[Aaran Tafo]

It was official. It seemed that somehow. Despite having a map downloaded right into his Datapad. Aaran was still somehow lost. What should have been a simple sightseeing tour ended up with the young Padawan somehow Granted, it was an understandable thing to happen. He was on probably the most densely packed and bustling city in the galaxy. And apparently some massive kerfuffle had gone on recently. Something or another about securty risks? Riots? A change in election?

Whatever it was, Aaran didnt know. And honestly. Unless it was something that garnered his personal attention. He had no reason to stick his nose into trouble. No one right in front of him was in danger. And the usual itching in his brain that meant something Force related was going on around him was silent.

Speaking of his ability to sense things. He had to admit. He was not prepared for the sheer weight of life that Coruscant held. While it was not distressing or oppressive to him in any way. It was. omnipresent. Just an ever present buzz of psychic static at the edge of his hearing.

It was a lot to adjust to. Home was simply, home. It was warm, familar, safe. The Temple where he was raised was calm, serene and held a feeling of sharp focus. But this was unlike anything Aaran had ever felt before. And he certainly did not dislike it.

But all his musings did not change one simple fact. He was lost. Lost deep below the busiest city in the Galaxy. He figured hunger would soon set in. He'd have to find one of those wonderful stalls that sold those delicious bits of friend meat in batter. They would sustain him for a time. Time until he got his bearings again and resumed his tour.

But as things would have it. Something seemed to be occuring. A crowd of sorts was gathering at the edge of one of the walkways. Had someone fallen? Aaran mused to himself. Already beginning to jog over towards the crowd. Gently moving his way through the small group of people to get a better idea of what was happening. Thankfully, his tall and imposing form was enough to part some of the people around him.

As Loske looked up to see the hand of Asher extended out towards her. She would also see another figure, doing his utmost best not to loom over the man offering aid. Tall, heavily muscled, tanned skin and dark eyes. Dressed in simple clothing with a bag over his shoulder. Not saying anything, simply watching with a curious look on his face.

 

[Cataline Holt]

Team: Riot Stopper
Location: Refugee Camp

"I know it's hard. Remember what I told you a few days ago?" Cataline spoke softly to the 7 year old twi'lek who had arrived on Coruscant a month or so ago. "It's hard right now, but what's happening now? You'll get through it. I'm helping, the Imperium is helping. You're not alone in this." She placed her hand on the kid's cheek, trying to give her an encouraging smile.

The kid was sweet, but had already been through too much. She remembered when she was a kid and they had to flee Iol. Or when the Sith came to Coruscant... Things were changing for the better. That stuff was the things of the past, she felt it. Anytime there was progress, though, something else always had to happen. Like the terrorist attacks that had been plaguing the camps.

It was scary to be a refugee. It was scary to be a worker in the camps, considering the terrorist attacks that kept happening Or so the free clinic that Cataline was assisting at had said. Cat prepped her hair in a ponytail with bangs while wearing a floral dress with a tan coat. Hopefully she wouldn't have to replace this coat anytime soon like her last few sweaters.

Cat could feel the mood in the camp. It was tense, bitter, and very pessimistic. Could she succeed in helping bring some positivity to the camp? Her family had been in their same shoes 10 years ago. They had made it out mostly unscathed, and didn't have people trying to kill them, either. Cat could only imagine how it had to feel with that added pressure.

And really, it was only a matter of time before something popped.

"I have to go talk to some of the adults, okay? Be good and be safe," she said with a soft smile as she stepped into the overly crowded level. A hovercraft would be bringing a food drop in a few minutes, and that would be the perfect time to really start talking things through with the camps residents and such... At least, that's how she imagined it. She'd been spending a huge chunk of her time trying to help and placate the camp, with mixed results.

Aaran Tafo | Asher | Loske Treicolt

 

[Loske Treicolt]

The murmurs of curious bystanders were lost between her thunderous breaths, and Loske blinked several times until those silhouettes took more refined shapes. Details of shoes, pants and otherwise started to fill in. With a bit more coherence, there was a certain chiding tone -- probably someone suggesting they give her some space -- and then a hand, poking through in ultra-three-dimension out of the cluster. A helpful hand, not a looting hand.

Kneeling herself up, she gratefully accepted the extension’s helpful hoist and salutations. The voice’s owner was a stranger, but it seemed he was willing to change that in these circumstances.

“Hi.” She gave the hand a definitive shake to Asher , and a sheepish grin.

Seeing that she was pretty-well fine, the crowds started to turn away with disgruntled whispers. If she’d have been a corpse, she might have had a wallet on her. Seeing she was up, and worse, able, they chose to move on -- they had surviving to do! Well, except for one apparently ( Aaran Tafo ), who looked pretty different from the rest of the crowd. If the mere presence of this fellow hadn’t been enough to indicate off-worlder, the looks the locals were giving him did. More than one once-overs to appraise how muggable he could be.

“Matson,” she offered -- seeing as it fit in after the whole Miss title, but that sounded pompous so she quickly remedied that “Loske, first name. Loske Matson.” She brushed something off her arm, somewhat perturbed by the surprising texture. Yuck.It didn’t respond well to a brush, and she had to actually invest some effort plucking it off.

“Thanks, uh..Mister…” she used as a mutual prompt.

 

[Asher]

Right. She was strong, and capable, just like Abaigeal was. Asher should have known better than to extend his hand but some parts of his adoptive mother's lessons just stuck with him. Not that the fact that Loske was a beautiful woman had been the reason for it. It was undoubtedly a very big part of it, but so was the desire to help. After all, sometimes all people needed was a hand and some kind words. It had worked the last few years, so why not now?

She shook his hand and she gave her a firm nod.

"Asher." Said Asher. "Just Asher. Last names are for suckers and Topsiders."

The man threw a look over his shoulder at the man that had approached them and then back to Loske.

"Speaking of," His brows furrowed in confusion. "How are you not dead?"

Loske Treicolt // Aaran Tafo

 

[Aaran Tafo]

For a moment, Aaran simply stood back and watched the pair interact. And Loske's assumption about the poor boy's mugability were correct. For even as the crowd began to disperse. One ambitious refugee did try their hand at slipping into Aaran's bag. Only to find their wrist seized in an ironclad grip. All while the young Padawan never took his eyes off the pair. Only turning his head slightly to give the attempted mugger a sharp look. "C'mon now. You're better than that alright." He said, his tone somewhat scolding as he gave the refugee a look up and down. Noticing just how damn thin the man looked.

Letting out a sigh, he reached with his other hand into his bag and pulled out a pack of simple protein bars. Pressing them into the man's hands. "Go on. Git." He said, releasing the man and ushering him away. Finally turning his attention back to the woman.

"Ya seem to have taken a mighty fall Miss Matson." He said, stepping to the side to stand next to Asher. "You gonna be alright. Or would you like me to call a speeder to get you to a doctor." He blinked, before slapping his own forehead with the butt of his palm. "My apologies. I forgot my manners coming to the big city. Aaran Tafo. Pleased to metcha." He said, extending a hand in greeting.

 

[Loske Treicolt]

"Turns out I'm both a sucker and a topsider, then." She shrugged, glancing backward at the gaping chasm that stretched between levels like a vertical tunnel. Only a sucker could have made a face-planting entrance like that, and only grappled to survive.

The yawning emptiness other than traffic streamlines elicited a shudder from the kiffar clone. That could have gone quite badly. And it was likely still going to -- whoever had shot at her probably saw her "fall" out of the vehicle and were satisfied with that outcome, or would be seeking to put a more permanent damper on the nascent detective. So she'd have to get up on the lead first.

Asher asked a pretty direct question, and she didn't blame him. She looked down at her hands, turning them over from back to palm before dropping them again. As if confirming that she was indeed not dead. "I keep asking myself that question too.." she admitted. Between being stabbed, shot and really badly directed force jumps, she should have been a corpse the hoard could have looted. She reached up to scratch the back of her neck and averted her gaze temporarily, dropping her voice somewhat self-consciously. It was one thing to tell her friends what was going on, but telling a total stranger she was training to be a Jedi? What if he had crazy expectations she couldn't live up to?

It was then that the tall fellow meandered to the introduction circle, and she blinked a bit, really preferring they step further away from the edge than where they were now. “I’m okay, thank you -- I uh,” she wrinkled her nose, using this opportunity to explain why she was okay to both Asher and Aaran Tafo “I used the Force to catch myself a bit.”

The polite handshake gave her another chance to step in a little more from the edge of the platform, just incrementally. “Nice to meet you too, Aaran. Thanks for offering to help. I really didn’t mean to cause a scene…" A difficult thing to avoid, when being shot from the sky.

This is...an interesting part of Coruscaunt to be visiting.” Shifting her weight from foot to foot anxiously, she glanced between the two fellows at the meandering crowds. Her senses were in a bit of a flux right now. To say she didn’t sense anything perilous would be a lie. This was the armpit of Coruscaunt, there were several varying intensities of danger. The categories were of different hierarchies of course, and the familiar sensation she’d felt when she was being shot at was not detected, so she let herself give enough pause to establish these new connections before venturing back on with her task. "Uncanny timing.."

 

[Asher]

Loske Treicolt // Aaran Tafo


There were two different ways that this exchange could go down. Asher did of course not think about the pleasant smalltalk he had with Loske but rather the exchange of one protein bar for a moment’s peace. With luck nobody had seen it go down, but these were the lower levels. There were eyes and ears everywhere, people looking for a new score, a new easy ticket out of poverty. Asher wasn’t any better, or so he told himself, but at least he had enough of a heart to punch up rather than down. And so, the fact that Aaran provided charity, would not paint a target on just his newfound friend but also on his own back. Those that had enough to pass out food so openly most likely had more things to offer.

Asher knew, anyone in the area knew, that in the shadows there were now people that clung a little tighter to their knives, only dissuaded by the fact that a person on his lonesome had now stepped into a group that made him more trouble than it was worth. Asher shot a disappointed look at Aaran’s hand and then the direction that the would-be thug had gone off in. It was also not out of the question that the scrawny man would return after all of this to try and collect some more. It was the curse of kindness in these parts.

As Loske mumbled about the force Asher wouldn’t quite hear it. His head turning back towards the blonde with a surprised look. Oh, it wasn’t for him. He shrugged and went back to keeping an eye out for people would try to get the drop on them. At least until Loske spoke up again.

“Yeah, well, some of us ain't visiting. We have to live down here.” He said and turned back to look at her and Aaran. “Not everyone can afford a view of that precious sky.”

“So who are you then?” Asher spoke perhaps a bit harshly. He wanted to help but topsiders falling from the sky and then getting found on ‘accident’ by one of their own was highly suspect to begin with. “Lackeys of our new overlord? Criminals with a death wish?”

“I mean, you’re both pretty, I’ll give you that, but you are definitely not local. Clothes' too clean for that.”

 

[Aaran Tafo]

If the negative implicataions of Aaran's simple act of generosity ever occured to him. The young Padawan's face did not show such deep levels of contemplation. He's thought process was painfully naive and simplistic. Someone tried to rob him because they were hungry. As far as Aaran was concerned, feeding the individual eliminated the problem. If other people were hungry, that man could simply share some of the protein bars they were given.


Even at the mention of the use of the Force. Aaran's face did not so much as even shift. He instead simply nodded once, still smiling as he did so. "Glad to hear that. Woulda hated it if you had a nasty spill." He said, thinking back to his own first attempts at using the Force to augment his own acrobatic prowess.

He distintly remembers overshooting the target and dislocating his knee.

At Loske's statement of how the Underbelly of the Galactic Capital was an interesting place to be visiting. Aaran snapped back into reality. The faraway look on his face fading. "Oh, yeah. I'm completely lost." He admitted, still smiling and seemingly having no issue being lost in an area that was not only full of desperate refugees. But also the potential target for a terrorist attack. His seemingly serene mood nearly flowed off him in a wave as he turned his attention back towards Asher.

"Nah. I'm nothing so dramatic." He said, waving one hand dismissively at the claims that the Padawan might be working for the new rulers of Coruscant or was an opportunistic criminal. "I just came here wanting to see the big city. Just got myself a bit turned around and found my way down hear." His attention switched over to Loske. "What about you Miss Matson. You like me and a bit turned around?"

 

[Loske Treicolt]

Small talk served for an introduction, but the reality of having to get a move on was quickly encroaching. She hadn’t noticed the actions Aaran had taken that bubbled up the local’s sensitivity, but the explanation made sense, unfortunately.

It was her turn to talk, and she was as truthful as ever. Maybe she was a government lackey? She was certainly here by way of information facilitated by that government, but she liked to think she was here because it was the right thing to do. Anything else was coincidence. Helpful, but coincidence.

“No - I'm supposed to be here..ish. I’m trying to find out who’s behind the strikes on the refugee camps. I thought I discovered a lead. Now I’m even more sure I did-- which is how I ended up,” she clicked her tongue against her teeth and jabbed a thumb backward, indicating the edge of the platform. “I have no idea who they are, or where they went, but I’d still like to find out. But,” she shrugged “Kinda tricky to get the know-how as a topsider. You’re right, my threads are glaringly obvious and slinking around undetected is troublesome.”

Asher / Aaran Tafo

 

[Asher]

Aaran Tafo // Loske Treicolt

Topsiders who were lost got killed. Asher kept himself from sighing in frustration, though there was little in the way to stop him from shaking his head. With as tall as Aaran was, and as clean Loske was, and the circumstances under which they met, this whole meeting felt like one big setup and with that particular thought in mind Asher began to glance around again. Was this the Tears at work? They had been trying to expand in this direction for ages now, but surely they wouldn’t have any valid reason to trick Asher this far out from his home. He was wanted quite the distance from here, nothing that would be all that likely to reach the gangs over here. At least his name wouldn’t have.

No, it couldn't be. Besides, these skyfallen heroes seemed to be on about the same task as Asher was and he knew damn well when opportunity struck.

“Well, you are in luck. Attacks on the refugee camps? Out of my league. Finding people that could have done it? Perfect match.” Asher said and spread his arms as if to point at himself. “One small investment, and I would gladly be right there with you.”

Yeah, no, he still had to make a living and these topsiders definitely had the credits.

“Say, a hundred credits. You’re practically robbing me at that rate. Can’t find a better price on these levels.”

 

[Tasha Blackmoor]

Tasha was fully armored, even her helmet adorned her head. The only sign she was a Jedi being the two lightsabers, one on her right, the other her left. And they were assuredly different from each other. Both in hilt design, and in application. Because on of those was made to destroy, made to be a deadly weapon of war. The other was a simple lightsaber, traditional, yet less powerful. Those lightsabers might be ignored due to the fact she also had her own sonic blaster rifle in hand, and its pistol version as well. Of course, the energy shield was on her arm and ready to go.

What her attention was really one was the datapad in her hand. It was connected to a large number of seeker droids keeping the distance, but keeping their attention, on the refugee camp and nearby activity. She knew of some others on this quest. However, due to her particular situation, she believed she would be better suited using the droids to find out her target investigations and proceed from there. She had equipped unarmed seeker droids with longer distance antennae, holo-projectors, and recorders, and connected them to her datapad. This allowed her and her technopathy to perceive all they did along with providing her with alerts about important situations with the police.

And it was with that technopathy she was focusing. Observing the programming and sights of the probe droids that hovered about until something jumped. Well, as she discovered, that was the literal occasion. Someone had jumped and shots had been fired. Her eyes opened reading the alerts about the situation that had been discovered. Not much to say yet. She immediately had two of the droids attempt to follow the location, observing as Loske Treicolt fell from the speeder she'd landed on after being shot. Tasha sent an alert out to the law enforcement, meanwhile she had one of her probe droids quickly attempt to race towards where the shot was fired from setting off alerts for her others to attempt to surround the vicinity to spot them while keeping recordings for police. While the other tried to chase down Loske and seeing her danger as she barely cought herself. She had gained assistance it seemed. Or at least, attention.

Asher a seemingly regular fellow, and Aaran Tafo who looked most assuredly like an outsider to the level, both approached her and had seemingly begun conversation as got up. Naturally, Tasha believed she needed to investigate. She kept the droid hovering over the expanse beneath it, intent on no thieves trying to nab the tech, and used the holo-projector to show herself in her armor to the three. "This is Tasha Blackmoor I'm working with the Coruscant authorities. I need to know if you know who shot at you, if you're ok, and if there's anything else important you can provide me about the situation? I'm currently in the process of attempting to hunt them down and trying to alert further authorities about the situation but I have not ID'd the shooter."

It was perhaps a blatant statement but she preferred speed and efficiency to subtlety in moments of such emergency.

 

[Aaran Tafo]

He had not been aware that Coruscant was such a dangerous city. The idea that the recent upheaveal could have caused so much chaos thoughout the city never occured to him. As they say. Ignorance is bliss. And Aaran was as cheerful as they came. At the mention of Loske investigating the culprits behind the current sense of fear an unease from the surrounding citizens. His easy-going smile faded for a moment. "You saying you know who's got these folks all riled up?" He asked, one hand coming to his chin, seemingly deep in thought.

A moment later he nodded. "Well alright then. Count me in. A meeting like this means the Force wanted us all together." He said, nodding again. Not even considering for a moment the implications he made by stating his faith in the Force. Especially from someone who clearly did not have much going on upstairs.

"If y'all are going after whoever is behind this. I've got your back Miss Matson." He announced, crossing his massive arms in front of his chest. "My Masters did say I was one of the best in the class in Saber practice. So dont you worry about nothing while I'm here." He was very much trying to reassure the Spy. A large toothy grin on his face. But him all but outright admitting he was a Jedi Padawan may not have the effect he was hoping for.

 

[Salamander]

Heliobas stepped out of the shadows and into the refugee camp proper. With the hubbub generated by Loske Treicolt falling in their midst, his entrance went relatively unnoticed. Not that anyone would have paid much attention to another old man in the overcrowded area.

He observed the scene with darting interest, his aged eyes moving from place to place, person to person. The sea of people was overwhelming to anyone seeking a particular, familiar face; even more so to one searching the clutter of minds.

At last, his gaze fell upon Cataline Holt as she stooped before a Twi’lek child, patting the girl on the cheek and speaking in reassuring platitudes. The young woman’s thoughts were troubled by the plight of those around her, but focused on the task of dealing with the mess of bodies and desperation. She was not trained to notice his gentle probing, and didn’t look up toward him. As she rose to her full height, Casimir made his way toward her.

“Excuse me,” he said, noticing with some small satisfaction that the child’s eyes jerked up instinctively at the sound of his commanding voice. “Are you here with the Imperium’s aid?”

| Aaran Tafo Asher Tasha Blackmoor |​

 

[Avo]

It took Lan everything in his body not to drop the boy held upon his shoulders. The stakes were high and the pressure was nigh.

"Go ahead, little one. Make the shot," the master urged, clasping the boy's legs tighter. "You won't miss, trust me."

The young Cathar upon his shoulders, no older than four or five, pursed his lips. Gnawing on the trepidation that flowed through him, he finally made up his mind. He clasped the small blue ball, raised it above it his head, and tossed. It sailed through the air.

When it seemed like it wouldn't make it into the goal, something guided it just a fraction of an inch to bounce against the backboard. Thunk, thunk swoosh.

"Yes!" He exclaimed. "I did it!"

Lan smiled, "Very nicely done. Keep that up and I'll see you on Holovision one of these days."

Slowly, Lan turned and lowered himself to the ground so that the young boy could clamber off of him. After offering a grateful thanks coupled with a broad smile, the boy scampered away to his awaiting parents. Grins were shared as they clasped their son, sending the Jedi Master an appreciative wave.

He sighed, satisfied.

It didn't last for long. Even as he gazed around him, it seemed that fewer and fewer people were enjoying the smaller things in life. Survival was of the utmost importance, and stopping to enjoy the simple pleasures of victory didn't cross their minds at all. At least some of the kids cared, still playing and laughing beneath the hustle-and-bustle of the refugee camps. So he'd played with them, fairly often. As much as he liked visiting this portion of the city-world, it was also his duty to ensure the Jedi Order was in plain sight - especially with the most unfortunate.

It was a tale as old as time itself. Wherever the weak and weary made their home, the Jedi were there to lend a helping hand. Lan was no different from the rest.

Cataline Holt | Salamander

 

[Cataline Holt]

Cataline watched for a moment as the city above went about it's business, seemingly oblivious to the plight that suffered below. The Imperium was doing as much as possible, especially considering the circumstances. And once they figured out who was behind the attacks, they could resume integrating them into the city. Cataline had strong faith that those that were tasked would figure it out.

There was so much potential for each person in the camp, too. The kids seemed to have kept a hold of their hope, but the rest were slowly breaking. A quick look at her watch - any minute now the craft would arrive and she could begin speaking with as many of the refugees as possible. If they wanted to prevent the violence that was brewing, they had to inspire them. Somehow. And in truth, Cat had no idea how to really do that. Winging it seemed to be a strong suit of hers, though.

Across the street was Avo , the Jedi that helped her during one of the recent attacks. He was helping a young Cathar play, which brought a smile to Cataline's lips. There was good kids in the camp, and good people, too. She was going to need his help if they had any chance of bringing any normalcy and peace to the camp. A Jedi that the children loved? He probably had more influence in their hearts than Cat would ever have. She waved towards him, hoping that he would catch her request to speak.

A commanding voice from Salamander caught her attention, bringing her out of her own thoughts and distractions. The small girl behind her seemed to notice too, as she felt a tug on the back of her dress. "Yes. We should be getting the food delivery soon. We'll be distributing it as soon as it arrives," she gave the older man a warm smile. She hadn't noticed him before, but faces did blur. "Is there anything I can help you with in the meantime?"

 

[Salamander]

Now that he had Cataline Holt ’s attention, it was time to introduce himself.

“On the contrary,” Heliobas began. “I have come to assist you in your efforts. My name is Casimir Heliobas… Jedi Master Heliobas.” He paused, gesturing with open hands. “The Force has guided me here, where help is needed most. Only tell me what must be done, and it will be so.”

He had no set expectations as to how she would react. Perhaps she would view his offer with suspicion. Or perhaps she would not question his presence, origins, or motives. Either way, he was eager to prove himself worthy and earn the Imperium’s notice.

| Avo |​

 

[Loske Treicolt]

"Great, thank you. Please...call me Loske." Miss Matson made her sound like a teacher.

With Aaran Tafo pledging his sword, and Asher his navigational forté, it seemed a little adventure group had formed. For a price.

Even if Asher hadn’t driven the bargain home with a promise of good value, Loske would have acquiesced. This guy had no rhyme or reason to help them, and it seemed he was willing to assist even before she agreed to the price tag. She nodded, and reached into one of the secured pockets of her leather jacket to produce the sun the urchin was seeking. Phalanges struck true, and she thumbed open the would-be wallet with slight despair. Her sun kissed face paled slightly, and she glanced up from wallet to Asher.

“I think.. I lost some in my fall.” She explained, thumbing through the chips that were available and counting them out. She drew in closer to the street boy so as not to draw to much obviousness to the transaction, and deposited four slabs of twenty representations to his hand. “That’s eighty. That’s all I’ve got for now, but I can give you the full, no, eighty more” (that’s not how negotiations work in your favour, Loske) “If we can get to a terminal or..” she flushed, closing the sad wallet. “Or do you accept a transfer?”

Asher didn’t have time to respond, when a mechanical bot descended from the level above and introduced itself. Abashed, she quickly stowed away her wallet and clawed at the dome of the seeker droid, pulling it down a notch and dropping to her knees, tightening the distance of the projection of Tasha Blackmoor to knee height versus human height. With the nose of the creature closer to the floor, it forced the holo to resize. It also meant Loske was a lot closer to the camera transmitting back to Tasha than normal, so she was probably just seeing her mouth or an engorged distortion of her nose and forehead or something.
“Hi Tasha, I’m fine - thank you. Glad to hear we can divide and conquer this a bit — I have no ID on the shooter. All I got were remnants of the most recent explosives.” She’d touched them, using psychometry to trace the origin of the shards back to an arms dealer’s doorway. From there, she’d had to hit the ground running. “To the doorway of a local dealer, or at least I think it was a dealer.” She glanced up from her position, as if Asher could lean in and maybe verify her next statement. “The shop was nameless, but..it was in the Xiao Town district. The front was some sort of pastry shoppe.”

 

[Avo]

Blue eyes surveyed the masses with sympathy. Men and women alike, their species irrelevant, came here and sought aid in the barest of forms. Food, a little shelter, and opportunities to rebuild their lives. Coruscant had been pock-marked by conflict and strife for centuries, millennia even, and it was hardly about to cease such a pattern today. The government always changed hands, but it was always the people that remained, struggling and suffering under whatever political hand that guided them.

While Lan was still apprehensive of what the Grayson Imperium would be and do, he was content to be tasked in lending a helping hand to these people.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a frantically waving hand. He grinned in realization, it was the same woman that had literally saved dozens of lives without a care in the world, or for her own personal well-being. She was no doctor, nor a Jedi, or military personnel, and had stepped up to the plate to take care of the denizens of Coruscant in their hour of need.

The Jedi Master slowly began to nimbly angle his way through the crowd towards her. And soon enough, he was finally upon her - within speaking distance. As Lan did so, he caught the ebb of the conversation: another Jedi Master, supposedly. It was a face he wasn't familiar with, though he didn't discount that at all. Various orders existed in the galaxy, and his was definitely on friendly terms with all of them.

"Hello," his chipper voice came, "I don't believe I caught your name before. Master Lan Graendal," he dipped his head in a short bow. "Excellent work the other day, truly. Many people still breath today because of what you did."

Cataline Holt | Salamander