Mission The Healing of Ukatis [Open to Donors/Relief Workers]

[Corazona von Ascania]

OOC: For those who wanted to do some ground work from my donations thread! Donors do not have to participate in this IC thread for their donation to count, nor do you have to make a donation to join and help out. I've highlighted a few locations/suggested objectives for folks to play with, but any general refugee/relief work is welcome.

---​

UKATIS

Several miles outside the destroyed capital

Axilla, the capital city of Ukatis, had been struck a devastating blow by the Mandalorian Enclave. A mostly agrarian world with traditional, sometimes backwards views, Ukatis was neither particularly remarkable nor wealthy. As much of its meager wealth had been in the capital, the little planet was struggling through a refugee crisis.

Ukatians had their pride, but several members of House Ascania elected to put that aside and seek aid from the galaxy.

When she'd first sent out the call for aid, Corazona had commented to Makko Vyres , as he set up the holonet donation portal, that she only anticipated a handful of donors at most. The outpouring of assistance Ukatis had received from the galaxy was truly incredible - individuals, families, various groups and organizations and even several large companies had pledged food, water, medical supplies and labor in order to ease the burden of disaster on the civilian population.

The Princess - who was technically in exile, but couldn't stay away when her people were suffering - was both incredibly warmed and grateful for their generosity.

There was work to be done - and trying to coordinate relief in a disaster zone was controlled chaos. Ukatian nobility typically did charity work to benefit the poor by hosting galas and balls to fundraise, but that wasn't quite possible in the aftermath of a war.

Rarely did a member of the aristocracy roll up their sleeves with the commonfolk. Especially not a noblewoman - especially not a noblewoman who was giving orders and wearing trousers.

For their part, the able bodied civilians of Ukatis labored alongside galactic relief workers. Men helped with unloading crates and construction, while women saw to preparing food and organizing supplies. Older children looked after the younger ones, entertaining them with games or small tasks they could to do help out. Lords from even the furthest provinces sent what they could spare of their harvests, and some civilians spent days traveling to the affected area to lend their aid.

In the center of the refugee camp was a makeshift clinic where medical personnel saw to the injured and ill, and taught Ukatains of all ages basic first aid. Next to the clinic was a large tent of dark blue with gold fabric trim, the colors of House Ascania. This main tent served as a base of operations, where donors and relief workers could meet and receive directions.

With her brow creased in concentration, Cora hand-waved a crate of blood pressure stabilizers from the back of a speeder truck to the ground. Many of the donated medical supplies were being funneled to the hospitals in Axilla that had the capacity to care for the critically wounded. Those with less severe injuries, and those who required medication for certain health conditions had been transferred to a number of smaller facilities across the region, including the field hospital here.

No sooner did the crate settle when a young woman holding a datapad approached.

"Princess, another shipment of foodstuffs just arrived from Clan Kryze. The warehouse is full, they want to know where to unload it."

Cora took the proffered datapad, tapping and scrolling. A thoughtful frown turned the corners of her lips downward. The fact that Jenn Kryze and her clan had gone out of their way to make a donation spoke to the woman's character - especially since they didn't see eye to eye.

"See if there's any space left in the tent bloc. We should have a few prefab housing units up by tonight that we can move civilians into. Surely it'll be more comfortable than camping."

She glanced over her shoulder, back to the truck. Seven more crates were piled high, in need of unloading.

"We'll take care of these 'ere, ma'am."

Two Ukatain men had already climbed in the back of the truck bed before Cora could even nod her thanks.

There was endless work to be done, but they had many hands.

---​

Spoiler: Tag List

Gatz Derrevar Jonyna Si Cessair Ideon Lossa Darcuhl Jasper Kai'el Treoff Kellak Shan Pavond Noah Corek Irwin Vuull Sera Mina Caulder Dune Danger Arceneau Malcoma Hesse Rulonom Laborr Dystraay Bovark II Thelma Goth Briana Sal-Soren Judah Dashiell

 

[Treoff Kellak]

Arriving a little late to the preparations, he unfortunately wasn't here when the devastation began. He also had not arrived sooner as he did not feel he was goven permission until his offer was made. He didn't want to be in the way, he only wanted to help. He had a fleet in orbit and a small contingent of security forces, along with the more laborious members of his group already out assisting where they could.

Treoff soon found the tent of the planets headquarters and entered once permitted, seeking out the fair Princess Corazona von Ascania . Only when she wasn't bumrushed for the moment with questions and guidance, he approached her and didn't take any more tine than needed.

Treoff gave a salute and stood to attention, "Princess Corazona von Ascania, Commander Treoff Kellak, at your service," he released the salute and stood at ease, "I'll be quick, ma'am, I know you are very busy. I have a small fleet of corvettes and frigates in orbit of the planet, I am in command of them, but I want you to consider them an extension of your power while you remain here for the rebuilding. They are essentially your Navy, outside of any major faction support. You do not have to go through a Senate with me. As well, a small contingent of soldiers as part of your army. My workers are already out assisting other rebuilders. If you or anyone has questions for me, by your permission, I will reside in your tent to give orders as needed to my men. I am not here to take over, you, your, planet, or your efforts. I am an asset. Should you need me further, simply address me and you'll have my full attention. Until then, I bid you adieu, Princess." Treoff gave one more salute, before stepping away.

Treoff was a Democratic man, one who supported Republics over Monarchies. But she was at current what he saw as the government of this planet, and she was going out of her way to see to the injured and rebuild their homes, so he was here to assist her. This was more for her people, than her, but he wouldn't dare overstep, ot wouldn't be right.

He found a corner of the tent away from everyone, near the entrance, and pulled out his datapad. He began coordinating efforts; rebuilding, navy, and ground forces, at the same time. He was listening to comms, requests for medics, dig crews, or rescue operations, and he sent his men as necessary. As promise, he only gave orders to his own people, not to the Princesses.

 

[Alicio Organa]

Refugee Camp
Ukatis
- Open -
​

Alicio hadn't added his credits to the fundraiser. But he'd seen the call for help, and decided to offer aid, in his own way.

It wouldn't be the first time since the attack on Ukatis that House Organa shuttles winked into existence over the planet, carrying foodstuffs, water purification devices, blankets, simple toys, a whole laundry list of items Alicio had spent years perfecting. Before becoming a senator, he had been a relief worker, after all.

After clearing with the proper channels in the camp, the Alderaanian shuttles crowded into the open field acting as a landing pad. Alicio was the first one out, followed by a group of bowl-helmed guards and volunteers. Immediately, the Count was right in the middle of things, giving orders with an even voice, pushing hovercrates, and stepping aside to speak with local representatives. He'd done this before, and it showed.

Yes, there were other reasons for him being here, doing his part to make the von Ascanias' relief efforts succeed. But mostly... he enjoyed getting his hands dirty like this far more than debating on the Assembly floor.

 

[Jasper Kai'el]

Ukatis
Tags: Alicio Organa

Dawnbreaker | Shield Core​

<Knight Toth has the last of our medical units up. Your brother will be managing that front. Shall I begin preparing our supply shuttles to distribute our foodstuffs?>

“Not yet, Iota,” Jasper would relay. “They have a warehouse on the ground that you should coordinate with. Start with the thermal supplies.”

<You got it, boss.>

Jasper was not in the Dawnbreaker. No, he was leading from the ground. The Shield Core was managing and deploying Jedi volunteers across the war torn area of the planet, and he was here helping construct prefab homes with his own two hands. Well, one hand plus cybernetic replacement. His team was making good progress, of course partly because of his own engineering experience.

It wasn’t long before a familiar shuttle landed, with a far more familiar Alderaanian man arriving where the action was. Jasper wasn’t shocked. This was his area of expertise after all.

“Afternoon, Senator!” Jasper called out from the rooftop of the prefab home he was working on. “Care to join me? We’re about to lay the roofing.”

The Sentinel of Harmony had a playful tone about him and a wide smile. He wasn’t just here to help. No, he was also here to lift spirits. Jasper was a prominent galactic hero after all. If he could provide hope by being positive, he was going to do his best to be so.

 

[Danger Arceneau]

U K A T I S
OBJECTIVE: The Main Tent | Open for interaction
The Eve Foundation | Outfit | x | x | x | x | x |

​

With silver-streaked auburn hair tied up in a loose ponytail and dressed in a classic black Akure Dragonskin jumpsuit, one wouldn't believe that the Trade Queen would so desire to work hand in hand with The Eve Foundation recovery aid efforts. Yet here the widow was, quietly standing over a hole array table on one side of the main tent set aside for donors and other relief administration to coordinate efforts. Her face, for once, free of artifice, revealing once again the smattering of faint freckles over her nose and cheek, along with the lines a lifetime had etched upon the corners of her eyes and along the edges of her full lips.

Danger hadn't wanted to stand out. She had wanted to help. It was a way to keep the mind busy. As her momma said, idle hands are like Jawas with too much free time – they'll start collectin' trouble faster than a droid scavenger in the desert.

She had a dark shawl wrapped around her neck she used off and on to shield herself from the heat of the sun when she stepped outside, but for now, it lay loosely around her shoulders.

Aeri Vyn stood by her side, the Zeltron assistant providing a read-out of which resources from the Eve Foundation had arrived planetside and the status of others that had not. Thankfully, the medical staff and emergency triage supplies had arrived first and were presently coordinating with the local Ukatis makeshift clinic.

"Alright, reckon we shall see who else will be assisting with logistics, delivery of food stuffs, and reconstruction efforts. From there, we'll coordinate with those individuals or companies and move from there."

 

[Aiden Rennek]

​

It felt good to use his strength for something other than fighting for once. After a fierce battle, Ukatis and many other worlds had been devastated by the Mandalorian crusaders. Aiden had fought on the frontlines of those battles, but now his unit was deployed to help in the aftermath. Both to provide protection for people working on the planet, and to lend a hand themselves by moving around supplies and organizing search and rescue missions.

Too many were still missing.

With his rifle over his shoulder and a heavy crate with medical supplies held in his hands, the Marine stepped into the large tent and looked around. He wasn't familiar with the camp yet, so he this was already the third tent he had entered looking for the drop-off location for medical equipment.

At least, this time time, he spotted anoter.

"Ma'am," he said politely to address Danger Arceneau . "I've got some more medical supplies. Should I drop them off here?"

Danger Arceneau ​

 

[Jenn Kryze]

Beskar'gam
​

| Location | Ukatis
| Objective | Ensure the resources are delivered safely and without incident

The decision to send supplies to aid in the reconstruction of Axilla was a significant one to make - and served as a rather telling window into the Alor's rule over her clan. Wisdom was the greatest of virtues in the eye of the leader of the warriors in exile, and so she met the objections of her people over a campfire in some uncharted world, sharing food as well as thoughts: guilt, it seemed, was a difficult topic for Mandalorians to handle. Jenn often pointed out the rather skewed perception of responsibility her people held by calling out the name of Mand'alor the Ultimate: a great man, to be sure, but one who was remembered for his reforming of a monolithic warrior culture into one that accepted those of all species and callings. Of the brutality visited upon the conquered under his rule, they spoke so very little of.

​

It was not in their nature to feel sorry for their defeated foes, or to find themselves apologetic in the face of their crusade's consequences. Why would wolves concern themselves with the bleating of helpless sheep?

Such ancient ways and traditions were exactly what Jenn fought against, time and time again, in spite of how her reformist beliefs alienated those she once called allies, sometimes even friends. None challenged her for the title of Alor just yet, accepting the wisdom of her rule: few as they were, the fierce warriors of her clan followed her not for might, but for vision. And when she explained to her followers that true nobility only came to those willing to look those they had wronged in the eye and offer their aid, they listened.

That was why those dissenting voices eventually agreed with her rationale, and under her command, a small group of her most patient warriors accompanied her to the world of Ukatis. The sight of beskar-clad strangers would doubtlessly arouse some resentment, and so she refused to delegate the task of keeping the peace to her Alor'ad. No, it had to be her.

"Karrys, what's left for us to unload here?" asked the cloaked figure to her similarly-cloaked pilot, whose arms were crossed as she leaned her back against the dropship laden with crates upon crates of foodstuffs she had brought down.

"Tarkus is seeing to the medical supplies right now - he took Pollux and Ko'ren with him. Right now, all I have is the food in the hold over there- they just got back to me saying there's no room in the warehouse. I'm, uh, waiting on them to find me a space to unload the rest." Karrys was usually cool under pressure, maybe a little flippant if the situation called for it, but here? The pilot looked far more tense than she ever had in the Bes'kyrade, and that brought a frown to Jenn.

<Problems, ner'vod?> came the Alor's voice over a private channel, shutting down the speakers from her helmet as she did so, suddenly mindful of the people giving the pair a wide berth.

<Just that we look a whole lot like the people who did all this, and our force is split in two groups. I don't think the white-and-blue matters much to them, or the markings, or->

<I get it. Hop in the cockpit, get on comms, make sure Pollux doesn't get himself shot sweet-talking a local. I'll handle the rest of the supplies drop from here.>

<As you command, Alor.>

​

Corazona von Ascania ​

 

[Jalen Kai'el]

Ukatis, Medical Tent
Tags: Shan Pavond

​

"...And when those bastards come back, I'm gonna... send'em outa here. Just right... right on out. Goodbye... See you later..."

"Lovely," Jalen sighed as he continued to heal an older gentleman's broken arm. "Now I'm only going to tell you this once; As far as I can tell you're injury wasn't sustained at the battle. My best guess is that you fell while under the influence of something. Alcohol, perhaps?"

"No..." the old man mumbled. "Maybe... I just had one... many whiskey..."

"Yeah, and that's the problem," he stated bluntly. "Alcohol and shellshock don't mix. Now we're gonna keep you here for a bit longer so you can get sober."

And with that he was off, stepping out of the medical tent into the wider makeshift clinic. Supplies from the Dawnbreaker were already pouring in, at the guidence of Knight Seydan Toth. That would be good. More supplies ment more to treat folks with, and many still had lingering injuries sustained in the battle or the aftermath as they tried to navigate the rubble. Burn victims were going to need Bacta tanks, and some cases of paralysis were going to require nerve implants.

It was going to be a long day.

"Bacta Tanks are here," Jalen called back into the main medical tent. "Any severe cases we need to address immediately?"

 

[Horace von Cholmondeley II]

Celestia Lake, a short walk from the refugee camps

The murky waters of the lake were placid and calm. Good weather for a funeral. King Horace II sat in his hoverchair on the shore, overseeing the ceremony. Upon a wooden raft lay the body of Myrddin, head of His Majesty’s court mystics. Slain during the abduction of Lady Giselle von Ascania.

“Myrddin, my friend,” the king said, his tone subdued and weary. “You who were at my side from the beginning. Now we’ve come to the end of our journey together, for now. We will meet again soon.”

Silence. That was how they mourned. No wailing or sobbing. Only the sound of the water lapping against the defiant shore, and the brazier steadily burning.

With a gesture, he gave the order for the raft to be pushed into the water. An archer, specially chosen by the king for his skill, loosed the flaming arrow. It landed perfectly upon the floating pyre. The fire spread rapidly over the oiled wood, the flames licking at the corpse.

As the pyre drifted away, Horace turned to face his men. “He was the only one among you with the will to resist the Jedi,” he said, anger brimming in his dark eyes. “He died fighting. Though he was not a warrior, he drew offworlder blood before his life was taken.”

He held up Myrddin’s dagger, the black blood on the blade already dried. “By this blood, we will know who dared to do this. And they will learn as the Mandalorians did, that we Ukatians look after our own!”

The Marshal drew his sword, and the others in the funeral party followed suit. They held their blades aloft, forming a canopy of durasteel over the head of the king, uttering sacred oaths of justice and vengeance.

"Now let's go back to the camp and get to work," Horace growled, pushing his hoverchair forward.

 

[Danger Arceneau]

U K A T I S
OBJECTIVE: The Main Tent | Aiden Rennek | Open for interaction
The Eve Foundation | Outfit | x | x | x | x | x |

​

At the cordial inquiry, Danger lifted her head, auburn hair gently swaying at her back from the ponytail. Emerald eyes would land on Aiden Rennek , taking in the tall, blonde human male. He had a military air about him; perhaps a solider? Her attention fell to the heavy crate of medical supplies in his hands.

"Of course, Sir, would you happen to have a manifest?" Her Southern systems drawl would float over to the young man, ambling a full-hipped walk over towards him to review if he had one on top of the crate or if perhaps there was a datapad attached to it.

""pendin' on what it is, reckon we can get you right situated shortly," Danger offered him a warm smile. He was young. Reminded her of Makai. Goodness, how these boys grow up so fast, she mused to herself. It was another reason why she was here. After Alric's death, Danger felt she had to at least get back to doing something hands-on.

 

[Aiden Rennek]

​

"Aye, I do," Aiden said with a kind smile, as he regarded the woman in front of him. She didn't look military to him, nor was he entirely certain if she worked for the Alliance to begin with. Then again, emergencies such as those on Ukatis drew good Samaritans from across the Galaxy to offer aid.

Whatever the reason, he was glad to see people helping.

"Bacta patches, Anticeptin-D and... well, I didn't get that far reading the manifest." Aiden's deep voice rumbled as he began to chuckle. Medical terms and supplies weren't exactly his forte. The Marine then gently set the crate down after the rather striking redhead walked over, and stretched out his arms to flex and relax the muscles.

Carrying around crates all day was starting to make him sore.

"If there's anything more I can do to help, just let me know." He dipped his head, then awkwardly looked around for a moment as he didn't know what to say. "Oh. I'm Lieutenant Aiden Rennek. A pleasure to meet you, Ma'am."

Danger Arceneau ​

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

The flap of the tent was lifted by a passerby for Cora while her face was still buried in the datapad. Cool shadows cast over the Princess as she stepped inside, her attention pulled by an older Ukatian gentleman who'd been sent as a representative of Lord Faron. After discussing where his aid was to be distributed, Cora was approached by a man with a soldier's bearing.

"Commander Treoff Kellak , thank you for your assistance." Bringing a hand to her chest, she offered him a brief bow. It was a gesture of both greeting and gratitude. "I received your message earlier. Your generosity is well appreciated by all of us on Ukatis."

He'd brought with him quite the spread of resources – a fleet, soldiers, and laborers. Cora cupped her chin between her thumb and forefinger, thinking how to best put them to use. It was interesting how he'd verbalized that he was not here to seize the relief operation from her, but she put her mind to more productive pursuits.

"If it isn't too much trouble, might I ask that you spare one or two ships to help those who wish to relocate elsewhere? Some of my people have designs to emigrate further into the core, where it is…deemed safer."

The Ukatian people were split over the Galactic Alliance. Some saw their intervention the reason of Ukatis' devastation, while others recognized the quality of life that could be had on planets closer to their influence.

"I don't think we need to worry much about security at the moment, but your soldiers might put their strong hands to use assisting in the construction of permanent homes near the far end of the camp. That, and there is always cargo to unload and escort. I'll send you a map of the camp-" A few taps of her datapad, and Treoff's own device would ping with a sketch of the refugee camp, complete with major zones labeled.

Cora went to step forward and exit the tent, pausing in her stride. "Ah, and do tell your men to wait until their appointed meal time at the mess tent. Sylvania runs a tight ship, and she's already had to put a few unruly folks in their place." Her eyes glittered briefly with mirth, recalling the portly, rosy-cheeked woman as she whacked one rowdy teenager over the head with her wooden spoon.

Her datapad pinged. Cora gave the message a glance before her lips firmed. "Commander." She tilted her head in parting and exited the tent.

A sea of Ukatians seemed to part around the pair of Mandalorian ship as if were a speed bump. Wary eyes followed the beskar clad warriors, unsure of what to do or how to feel about the fact that the enemy – Ukatians couldn't distinguish between the various Mandalorian clans and their individual involvement in the war – was here toting supplies.

Corazona clocked a familiar helmet leaning against a dropship. She approached, direct and slow within Jenn's line of sight.

"Jenn Kryze."

There was no warmth to her acknowledgement, but there was respect. A far cry from how she'd curled her lips at the Mandalorian during their first meeting. How could she do that now? Jenn Kryze had offered to aid the call of someone who'd been downright hostile to her, knowing well that her people wouldn't be entirely welcome by the local populace.

"You have my thanks."

Cora tilted her head in a cursory nod. Her gaze slid over to the dropship proper, then back to Jenn.

"No one giving you trouble?"

She could understand a hatred for the Mandalorians, given what the Enclave had done. She would not tolerate anyone, Ukatian or offworlder, starting problems in the camp.

 

[Treoff Kellak]

Treoff agreed to Corazona von Ascania 's wishes. He followed her words as if they were a command, and took them in stride. He wouldn't be ordering his military forces to help in construction, as he had designated workers that understood and knew construction more than them, and there were more workers than soldoers, to begin with. But he would spread them out, and help as necessary. Whether it was to break up a bar fight, or help someone out of some rubble, they'd be there. And he made a note of the orders for food services, although his men would be fed by his own stocks, and his men woukd aid the refugee mess tent, to make sure no one skipped in line, cheated for a meal, or caused problems.

By the time he was finished coordinating the orders, the good Princess was gone. He didn't know the Princess, but this interaction told him he felt good about her as a person. As a human, one with a lot on her plate and trying to organize and give out as necessary. He followed the ping back through the Holo-Net to the Princesses own Datapad, and offered an alternative since she had already left; "Princess Corazona von Ascania, my ships are available for any use you request. I will have the corvettes land to gather passengers. However, I wish you to understand the magnitude of my proposal. My fleet is here to deem Ascania safe, and guarantee their protection. So long as you do not dismiss my protection, we are here to breathe new strength into Ascania. I don't believe anyone wishes to create a galactic diplomatic incident by attacking a neutral party whose sole purpose is to protect and provide medical aid to refugees. Yes, I am willing to stay in defense of your people, even if it provokes hostilities against myself. I have begun construction of a quick, command and control Bunker outside the original city. It will give you the appropriate communications with any forces here on Ascania and Holo-Net connections to Coruscant and other planets. A government should not have to retreat to a foreign vessel to communicate with the Alliance, their loved ones, or their people. Obviously, StarGuard Dynamics gets a benefit from being the Big Supporter everyone sees in the ground, but that is the only benefit I could seek to gain from helping you. I am not here for profit. I am here for you and your people, until you have the means to guard yourselves. -- Treoff Kellak"

 

[Jenn Kryze]

Beskar'gam
​

| Location | Ukatis
| Objective | Ensure the resources are delivered safely and without incident

There was no expectation of gratitude from the locals in the minds of the Mandalorians of clan Kryze: Jenn had been sure to drill it into her warriors that doing the right thing meant foregoing glory at times... or infamy. The latter had ever been the favored way for her people to obtain power and influence throughout the ages of galactic struggle, after all, and it would take her years to fully change the minds of those who chose to follow her - assuming she lasted that long without someone challenging her and winning. Stars only knew that some among the clan were better duelists than her, although they were all mercifully aware that she possessed a wisdom they lacked: one day, a hot-headed warrior might just wrest control of the clan from her hands and take them in a different path. As the Way dictated.

But for now, the clan was under her rule, and in the end, her word was absolute. When she dictated that they would come to the aid of Ukatis, there was no choice but to challenge her, or to obey. The trappings of democracies were foreign and unwelcome among the Mando'ade, and even a reformer such as herself as no need for them. Just as she found the thought of a hereditary monarchy contemptible, yet chose to assist the beleaguered population.

Upon her first meeting with Corazona von Ascania, she had been unaware of her status as anything more than her dearest friend's padawan - and a rather angry inhabitant of Ukatis, all too eager to find some manner of outlet in the wake of the brutal raid conducted upon Axilla. The exchange of lightsabers for beskar, conducted amicably as it had been, had proven a little tense in the end, in no small part due to Jenn's rather unapologetic demeanor when it came to the entire operation. The Alliance had goaded her people, and paid dearly for it.

But now, she found herself just a little wiser, and without any remaining ties with the gathering of brigands and crusaders she once called vode, she was free to act according to her own principles, rather than sacrificing them for the sake of others. And when her gaze came to rest upon the woman approaching her, she gave but a polite, if reserved cant of her head.

"Princess", greeted the Mandalorian, opting to use the woman's title now that she found herself upon her home. "I'm not doing this for gratitude, or forgiveness. I probably won't live to see either." Dry words, perhaps, and not quite the response she might have expected, but the Alor certainly proved to be honest to a fault, at the very least.

"Just nervous looks, the occasional curse whispered under their breath. Me and mine are used to it by now." There was a pause, then, her words hanging in the air. Evidently, she accepted that scorn would be her clan's lot as traitors to the Enclave - and allies to their savagery. "They're right to be angry, I can't begrudge them that. Especially with Pollux running around trying to see if he can find his old flame."

She rolled her eyes at that. Stars, but her clan really was a gathering of exiles by now. Fierce and loyal to a fault, but all of them outcasts and traitors in the eyes of the Enclave or the rising Protectors.

​

Corazona von Ascania ​

 

[Danger Arceneau]

U K A T I S
OBJECTIVE: The Main Tent | Aiden Rennek | Open for interaction
The Eve Foundation | Outfit | x | x | x | x | x |

​

Danger took the manifest and quickly scanned it with the expert air of someone well used to reviewing detailed information pages and processing them for direction. The corners of those feline emerald eyes would crinkle up, grateful that it appeared that, at least, the 'verse wasn't going to such a hell hole if Lieutenant Aiden Rennek's parents managed to convey manners and cordiality to their son.

"Well, you came right on time, Lieutenant Rennek; these are a portion of the medicine triage was desperately low in," There was no helping it with how Danger's throaty voice would drift and hang at the belt buckle. Thick like Kashyyyk molasses and just as welcomingly sweet.

Looking up, the Queen of Trade caught the young man stretching. Understanding dawned. "Reckon, if you need a breather, you are more than welcome to take a seat while I patch these through for delivery to the triage. Won't take but a few minutes but enough to flex that burn off your arms." the woman offered, genuine hospitality bleeding through as it always did as she held out her free hand.

"A pleasure to meet you, Lieutenant Rennek, call me Danger." An uncommon name, but not unheard of. With no surname given, one would figure the auburn-haired woman to be another cog in the machine in the recovery efforts. Then again, without the curve-hugging glisaweb business dresses, expertly applied make-up, and perfectly coifed hair, one wouldn't peg the woman holding out her hand to Aiden in a friendly greeting to be the Danger Arceneau of the intergalactic conglomerate of Arceneau Trade Company.

"As for additional help, we could use it. I've another shipment coming in, and another pair of strong arms would do the trick." there was no flirtation in her tone, just an honest appraisal. The man was young, in his prime, and odds were, he could probably make a few more trips from here to the triage. Maybe he even had some friends to help out.

"'Could I offer you some water? Best hydrate while you can."

 

[Aiden Rennek]

​

"Always glad to help make a difference." Perhaps a bit cheesy to say, but he sounded genuine. Aiden was a soldier, trained to fight and even sacrifice his life for the Alliance. But, in many ways, offering his help here felt far more rewarding. If his own job hadn't been about preventing the catastrophes that created the need for this work to begin with, he might have considered a change in direction for his career.

Looking up from her datapad, the woman had caught notice of his stretching and fatigue. The offered that followed made his lips curl into a grateful smile, and after a small dip of his head to acknowledge her, he lowered himself to sit atop a crate. The very moment his body relaxed, he groaned at the sudden relief of strain on his legs and waist. A sound he had hoped to restrain, and now left him slightly embarrassed.

Danger?

That was an unusual name, but it had something interesting to it. Something that made him wonder if the name meant anything about her personality. She offered no last name, after all, and could have offered him one that came to be. "I'd be more than happy to help. My men are scattered across the camp to help out, and I was assigned to offer my aid here." He looked up at her with a Corellian smile and dipped his head once more.

"I certainly won't say no to some water before I head back out there, though." He chuckled and looked around while she fetched him a glass or cup of water. "How are things coming along here? Is there light at the end of the tunnel?" He looked at her curiously. He knew that in the aftermath of great battles, there was often huge demand on medical personnel. Perhaps Danger had only just arrived, or maybe she was at her own limit already. If she was, she hid it well.

Danger Arceneau ​

 

[Danger Arceneau]

U K A T I S
OBJECTIVE: The Main Tent | Aiden Rennek | Open for interaction
The Eve Foundation | Outfit | x | x | x | x | x |

​

"Good to hear. Mighty big need right now, and every hand helps," Danger drawled out with her rich twang, retreating with her slow, curvy amble towards the hole array desk where Aeri stood. The Zeltron turned her indigo head over towards Danger, murmuring low regarding the landing of the Krakkiss with a large shipment of medical necessities from Pharma Tech. The way the Zeltron woman deferred to Danger gave the impression that the redhead oversaw a specific section, donation, or organization.

The groan of relief at stretching sore muscles did not go unnoticed, Danger darting her attention back to the soldier. A throaty chuckle, and the woman gave a nod to Aeri, grateful for the news. It looks like she had the task on hand for the Lieutenant. For now, however -- A quick lift of a climate-controlled thermatic crate and Danger withdrew an ice-cold bottle of water.

"Well, reckon as good as one can expect this early in the shindig," Danger explained, full-hips bringing her slow, sultry gait over to the man, a hand extending out the bottle of water in genuine southern hospitality. Although a wry twist of her lips indicated she had more than a few thoughts regarding the matter, "But bless their hearts, it's like we're runnin' a moisture farm with too many overseers and not enough farmhands. We need more hard workers and fewer wannabe Hutts."

That was the con regarding relief efforts such as these. Oh, it wasn't to say folk didn't have a kind heart or mighty strong desire to help out the less unfortunate, but it quickly turned into a hodgepodge of trying to out donate, out provide what-have-you of generosity with the sole desire for the kiss in the arse treatment or for the holomedia presence. Truth be told, Danger wasn't sure which side of the fence House Ascania stood. She'd yet to meet anyone of those nobles, but then again, the Queen of Trade wasn't expecting to. It would be interesting to see if they decided to wallow through the trenches and put themselves to work.

"So, Lieutenant Rennek, seein' as you've got yourself some rank and men your direction, by which manner of entity or government you here representin'?" She was curious who he reported to. Keen of ear and one with several years worth of interacting with government entities and factions from one side of the galaxy, Otherspace, and to the Exgal, the woman had a thing for accents. Her work involved the reconstruction of Corellia after its near destruction of Akala. The Netherworld event saw a mass disappearance of trillions across the 'verse. Nothing would compare, however, to the destruction that was wrought upon Corellia in the aftermath.

"You from Corellia?" Danger asked, setting one free hand on the curve of her full hip.

In Akala's desperation to be reunited with her lover, her selfish experiment resulted in the sundering of planets, releasing the energy she had collected to be the conduit of energy on Corellia. The results were that the netherworld rifts sundered the two worlds, separating sections of Corellia and Lashtu only to mash them together. The cities crumbled under the weight of the burst of the Force, incinerating in a violent wave of light, resulting in millions of deaths as the worlds crumbled apart and Corellia broke in two.

It had taken over a year to fuse both halves and make Corellia habitable again, albeit with new locations in their wake: the astroid graveyard of Socorro's Belt, the Black Gold Beaches, and the Sahsahlah Floating Mountains. "[ The Promised Land ]," and the Corellian Netherworld Rift. Having personally seen the entire recovery efforts, Danger intimately worked with the Corellian government as well as those refugees long enough to recognize that particular tilt in Aiden's voice.

 

[Aiden Rennek]

​

While he sat for a moment to lose the painful burn in his arms, shoulders and neck, Aiden kept his gaze on Danger from the corners of his eyes. He couldn't quite pick up on the conversation with the Zeltron woman, but he wasn't here to pry and didn't think much of it. When she looked back after hearing his groans, however, he definitely knew what the chuckling was all about, and averted his gaze to deny her the satisfaction of seeing his embarrassment.

Not that he truly believed it'd help.

The hiss of a climate-controlled crate opening up drew his attention back to the woman, and as she walked over towards him, he forced himself to keep his eyes above her waist. There was a dangerously alluring sway to her hip whenever she walked, and whether intentional or not, she put a lot of emphasis on it. "Thank you," Aiden managed as he was offered the bottle. He took the cold container into his hand, removed the cap, and raised it up to dry lips to take a quick sip.

This time, he resisted the urge to make another sound.

"It's always a little chaotic, running an operation like this," Aiden mused and lowered the bottle down into his lap. "Usually, we'd at least have the men work in pairs, but we're stretched thin." Working alone like this didn't bother him too much, but it painted a clear picture about available resources for all of this. Either the Alliance could only offer minimal aid, or there just wasn't anything more to give.

Looking back down at the bottle in his lap, Aiden raised it up and drank about half of it in one long swig. A softer, cold exhale followed, and he looked back up into her Emerald eyes to answer, "I'm a Galactic Alliance Marine," he replied, though it was the question that followed that sparked a more curious look. This time, as her hand repositioned to her hip, his eyes did dip, although only for a moment, "Aye, what gave it away?" He had flashed his Corellian grin, and did the same thing again.

But a true Corellian, or someone familiar with his people, would hear it in his speech as well.

"Are you from Corellia yourself?"

Danger Arceneau ​

 

[Judah Dashiell]

Typically Salacia Consolidated salvaged items off the hyperlanes ; wrecked ships, aftermath of the latest Jedi vs. Sith dick measuring contest, abandoned space stations, the list was endless. If it was floating in space or asteroids, abandoned, and ready to be refined, it was completely up their alley.

Ground salvage? Not their typical day unless it was a massive star destroyer or valuable metal.

As such, Judah and his Director of Salvage, Mr.Zej, were approaching this mess like they would a massive,crashed star destroyer.

Sentients clad in hardhats worked side-by-side salvage droids as they methodically handled razed buildings. Sparks flew as crews sawed through steel and metal, the overwhelming sound of saws and shouts over the din echoed through the area. Every so often, the site would fall deathly quiet, recovery crews with Kobarian swamp dogs were brought in, the creatures digging through rubble for the unthinkable.

Anything metals were being packed onto a salvage vessel, taken to Danger Arceneau's Hana-Class refinery station orbiting the planet, and either refined and returned to the planet for use as fresh metal or sold off, all profits going into the relief funds.

It was the least they could do.

"Clearing out this quadrant is taking some time. Looks like it got hit the hardest." Zej was all but yelling over the din of the work going on.

"I'd say" Judah yelled back, surveying the damage with a shake of his head. "Start identifying who we're going to leave in charge, someone who is comfortable being here for months. Could be a good way to make a name for themselves, you got to retire sometime."

Zej barked out a laugh.

"Not a chance in hell. You'll have to pry my lifeless body off a job site."

 

[Danger Arceneau]

U K A T I S
OBJECTIVE: The Main Tent | Aiden Rennek | Open for interaction
The Eve Foundation | Outfit | x | x | x | x | x |

​

Homeworld and reporting entity confirmed; Danger's full lips curled back into a pleasant smile, one that turned into a full husky chuckle at the appearance of the devilish little boy grin, the tell-tale signature character trait every Corellian male seemed bred to display ever since they fell from their momma's wombs, greeting the 'verse with a wail aching for freedom and that cocksure stubbornness permeating from every pore.

There was notable amusement reflecting in those emerald eyes at Aiden Rennek , her hand coming from her hip and gesticulating towards his direction, from head to toe, as if to say, well, it's all in the package, darlin'. All in the package.

Oh, Danger didn't miss the drop in his gaze, but what did pleasantly surprise her was Aiden's quick desire to keep his eyes from wandering. Danger knew full well her momma and her Hapan ancestry gave her a particular set of assets, and sure enough, the Trade Queen didn't come this far without leveraging just how any man or woman of any species had a tendency to view her and how that held sway in negotiations. In Danger's experience, she always had a way of pinpointing what lay simmering underneath. What was good for the boardroom was good in the bedchamber, and the majority of men fell in one of either category. It was evident that Lieutenant, despite that rakish grin, held true to propriety and his upbringing. That endeared him to her.

"Well then, khasaan'l, Lieutenant," Danger gave a slight incline of her head as she relayed the Olys Corellisi term for a greeting. While she wasn't fluent in Old Corellian like Myra, she spent enough time around Corellians, and a few things were going to stick.

The pink tip of her tongue went swiping over pearly white teeth as the chuckle waned, and the Trade Queen flashed him a wide grin of her own.

"Sorry to say, but no. I'm born and bred on Tatooine; got sand in my veins and those blazing suns in my eyes." Danger sang with her twang, crossing her arms under the generous fullness of her breasts, manifest held in hand. Cocking her hip to the right, the redhead continued, explaining the connection and her ability to pick up on his accent.

"Worked on a number of Corellian relief efforts several years back. Met a lot of good folk with great work ethic and a deep need to see Corellia return back to the glory it was. I was all too happy to assist in any way I could," Thinking back, those were some interesting long days, longer nights, and hell in ensuring keeping the poachers and salvagers at bay while folk did their best reclaiming their kin's remains. Seeing Corellia now, one wouldn't have thought that such a travesty had occurred back then.

"Talk to enough Corellians, and well, reckon ones blood starts bleedin' Whyrens, sure 'nuff its now my drink of choice. Reckon if I stayed longer, I'd have enough cocksure assurance to make one bold enough to take some mighty big risks for the greater good," she teased; the vibrant emerald glints in her eyes flashing with her teasing humor.

"So Alliance, eh? Good to know their boys are here assistin'." A cock towards the exit of the main tent, and Danger continued, "Got a full shipment of medicines and the like from PharmaTech; the Krakkis just landed. 'Pendin' on how long you'll need to catch that rebreather, would love the help gettin' those crates situated and delivered."