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Faction The Night Begins To Shine | The First Order

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A B S I T
THE OUTER RIM TERRITORIES
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"I understand that the situation on Najarka is being managed by the Corps of Engineers. My point is, their hospitals need better and independent power sys..."

A chime echoed inside the cabin.

Halting in mid-sentence, the elderly matron held up a hand as she took advantage of the pause to compose herself. Nine decades of this, and she swore bureaucracy only got worse with time. Reaching over, she toggled a button on the side of the writing desk that connected to the ship's internal communication system. "Yes?"

"We have entered the Absit system and are now in orbit."

The woman glanced off to the chronometer in her cabin. The fleet was ahead of schedule. Not by much, but every little bit counted. "Signal the escorts to proceed to their landing coordinates," the woman remarked, though she would have hoped that the ship's commanders would have all followed the plan and done it already.

No, wait, she was dealing with Imperials again. No doubt there was a procedure involved to ask permission to wait for a signal, then probably a different procedure for asking permission to follow the signal after it was received.

At the very least, their arrival marked an opportunity to get off this ship. At least, for a short while. But if she could walk around on a planet instead of up and down these durasteel corridors, then she'd take however long she could get. "I'll be along shortly."

"Doctor Sol-Syna, you should focus your attention in the Tunka Sector."

Oh, yes. She was still on the holo-comm with MEDCOM. How could she forget such a riveting conversation?

Rolling her eyes, the woman turned away from the writing desk to face the blue scan line hologram of the woman that she'd just spent the last twenty minutes in hyperspace arguing with. "Yes, let's be beholden to arbitrary lines drawn in space," the wearied Jedi quipped. Honestly, Najarka was closer from Absit than any of the other planets on their flight path, and could have benefitted from some support. But no, this was the Tunkan Partnership! God forbit they color outside the lines. "Look, all I'm saying is that the engineers need to be looking at more than just the main power systems. Critical back-up systems, such as the shelters and hospitals will be essential in case we see another failure of the geo-thermal reserves."

With the resources of the fleet they'd allocated for this Tunkan Partnership, they could easily accomplish that goal when they were ready to depart Absit... except of course, it flew in the face of the schedule that the spin doctors wanted for their regional talking points with the moffs.

"Your concerns are... noted."

That was probably Imperial for shut up and color, but after twenty minutes of this and the fact that she had better things to do, Kory decided to take that as a victory and be done with it. "Excellent," the woman remarked succinctly. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have something other than paperwork to attend to."

Absit was a remote planet recently brought under the protection of the First Order. After the collapse of the previous economic power structures in this part of the Outer Rim, its capital of Leone had fallen into the control of a mining guild. That little social experiment went exactly as those sorts of arrangements were want to. Mining accidents covered up. Workers rights summarily swept aside. Working conditions below industrial standard -- no safety systems to speak of -- with the goal in mind of just making as much money off the operation as possible, for as small an investment as they could. Lives were expendable, so long as the mines stayed in operation.

The Imperial Knights had managed to evacuate a collapsed mine shaft, and even rescued some of the workers. Her Majesty's government had held the corporate executives and their managers accountable. Initial triage and support had been levied as best the fleet could manage.

But now the emergency was over. Which meant that the healing could begin.

The FIV Solace had been built for just this purpose. Its maiden flight being a comprehensive aid program across the Tunka Sector of the Outer Rim. Of which, Absit was to be the first test of the Solace's command and control capabilities. The ship was escorting two medical frigates, which each had landing coordinates that would allow the First Order to pre-position medical resources in populated pockets of the planet that didn't have access to a hospital.

According to the reports, Leone had a small clinic that had been put in by the company at the same time as they'd put up the worker's housing, but then they'd cut off the resourcing after that. The first contact team had propped up the town with what medical supplies they could spare, now Kory's team would finish the job.

Which, included a team from the Corps of Engineers here to do an initial assessment for a project to construct a proper hospital on the planet.

The woman emerged into the hanger bay, where a U-Wing transport was being readied for take-off. Grabbing hold of the side, the elderly woman hauled herself up into the ship and then plopped down in the first available seat.

"Everyone remember to brush up on their Yatir anatomy?" the woman asked casually.

It had been on her list of things to do.

That she'd forgotten about.

Until now.

 
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Renata Westaway

Guest
R


Renata hated Absit.

Every bit of it was uncomfortable for her. The heat. The glare. The sand.

But here she was.

Clipboard in one hand, pen in the other, she was checking off relief supplies as they were unloaded from the large Refugee Council freighter on hoversleds. Medicine, non-perishable foodstuffs, clothing, construction supplies, agricultural supplies, and other assorted items that were being offloaded to benefit the people on Absit.

Renata typically worked with refugees, and Absit was not really typical of her purview. But given the exploitation of the people here, they may as well be refugees, and so the Refugee Council was on hand to help. Before the First Order arrived to set things right, the people of Absit had been subjected to the abuses that ran rampant with the kind of corruption that had been allowed to take hold here. Now things were on the up-and-up, she hoped, but there was still work to be done.

It seemed odd, then, that Renata was also here to seek space for refugees. Those who needed a warmer climate or a dryer one would do well on Absit, although Renata herself could hardly see the appeal. She had been there ten minutes and was already perspiring more than she would like. A flight officer hustled over and said, "Dr. Westaway, you may wish to step inside for a moment. We have another vessel approaching and it may get quite loud."

"Is it Dr. Sol-Syna?" she asked, lifting her gaze to the sky as if to spot the approaching ship.

"Believe so, ma'am."

Renata thanked him and, after confirming all supplies had been offloaded and were accounted for, followed him into the terminal, which was a little more soundproofed. She'd wait there for the FIMS contingent; they had a lot to talk about.


 
Turbulence shook the transport as the U-wing was buffeted by the thickening layers of the atmosphere as it descended.

She was accustomed to the sensation of interstellar to planetary transition, but that didn't make it less uncomfortable. The last thing she'd expected to be doing in her nineties was galavanting about on some damn fool idealistic crusade. Much less doing so in such a bone-rattling fashion.

After the initial shock of atmospheric shear had subsided, the woman reached into blouse pocket and withdrew a pair of reading glasses. Sliding those onto her face, she examined the datapad that she'd brought with her. The First Order census data was populating in real time, as further forays across the planet supplied updated demographics for a world that had been left for too long off the grid, in the clutches of a corporate meritocracy that rewarded corruption.

Reaching over, she lightly tapped the arm of the protocol droid that was her assistant for the trip. "Have a medical team dispatched to these coordinates," the woman noted, passing the datapad over for the droid to read off the latitude and longitude. "There's a village that's been surveyed that was not on the original draft."

There was a lot of work to be done on Absit.

It most likely would not be completed in Kory's lifetime. But, one had to start somewhere.

"Yes, ma'am," the droid noted, accepting the datapad. "And, ma'am, you will be meeting with Moff Westaway upon arrival. She is part of the Refugee Council."

"Westaway," Kory echoed, committing the name to memory.

Refugee Council? Interesting interplay with that. She supposed Absit fit the description, albeit in a rather unorthodox way.

A final shudder marked the landing. As the door next to her slid open, she was greeted with a blast of hot, dry air. Bloody hell. Was this Tatooine? Pushing herself up from the seat, the elderly woman grabbed hold of the side of the door for support as she gingerly hopped down to the parched earth.

The droid stepped down behind her, gently guiding her toward a building. As she came through the door, she spied a blond woman who radiated authority.

Well, authority and a layer of tobacco smoke.

"You must be Moff Westaway," the elderly woman noted. She didn't move as fast as she would have liked, but she thought she did very well for her age. Extending a hand, she offered, "Kory Sol-Syna."

 

Karisa

Brask'ari'sabosen (retired)





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704th First Imperial Mobile Medical Surgical Unit #1
Leone, Absit


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Immediately upon reaching their destination, the medical staff of FIMMSU One went to work setting up the field hospital on the outskirts of Absit's capital city. From the time the cargo containers were brought ground side from the FIV Comfort, they could have the Fimsoo fully ready to see their first patient and/or serve their first meal within an hour's time.

There were different configurations FIMS could use. Today it was the full unit. Aside from the general medical facilities, staff offices, and personnel housing, the cantina for this mission would be turned into a large soup kitchen to help feed the hungry with FO social services available too for those in need of assistance. After all, this was a humanitarian mission.

Brask'ari'sabosen's crimson gaze rose from the datapad in her hand as her deputy medical officer walked up to the Chiss battle surgeon while taking inventory of the supplies in one of the self-contained multi-use exam rooms. "We are green to go, Doctor Karisa. Also, the Medical Director's transport has just landed and word is she is going to meet with the Head of Refugee Outreach or whatever they are calling it nowadays. I would expect a visit sooner than later from one or both," the Riflorian physician stated with a grin.

"Thank you for the report and information, Doctor Johna. Let us make a difference here for the people, hmm?" the blue-skinned Chief Medical Officer offered in response, then she went back to making sure everything was indeed ready for the influx of patients.



 
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Renata Westaway

Guest
R


Renata was thought she had the time to sneak a cigarette before the old lady arrived, but as it turned out Korynn was -- what was the term? -- rather spry. She quickly put out the cigarette and tossed its remains into the recycler when she saw the doctor coming her way at rather a clip. "Dr. Sol-Syna," she said graciously, taking the proffered hand and offering a gentle but firm handshake. "It's a privilege to put a face to the name and voice." Renata tucked her cigarette case into her bag and turned her attention back to the doctor. "You're half-right," she said. "I was on the Moff Council some time ago, but since then Her Majesty has asked me to oversee the First Order Refugee Council."

Not, Renata thought as she release Korynn's hand and clasped her own together with enough intensity to make her knuckles white, that she was bitter about it.

At. All.

"We had some surplus supplies that we didn't want to go spare," Renata said by way of explaining her presence on Absit. She fell into step beside the older woman, gesturing for her to proceed. Renata would follow. "Water purifying tablets, some medicine and foodstuff that are approaching expiration dates. Plenty of moisture evaporators With the Government's efforts focused elsewhere -- correctly, of course," she added hastily, " -- we have not been able to expand our refugee placement facilities as aggressively as we'd hoped. So when I found out you were performing maneuvers, as it were, on Absit, I thought we might combine forces."

Absit was in need of a great deal of help, which Korynn was likely to know. "This place is... frankly, an embarrassment. It's not a lack of effort on the First Order's party. It's a matter of the resources getting to the right places, and developing a culture where the people here feel comfortable ratting out the corrupt ones who are skimming off the top." Renata's fingers itched for another cigarette, but she kept it under control. "If we could begin utilizing some of the disused land for refugee settlement, perhaps -- attached to the Medical Service?"

There was no delicate way to put it. "Grand Moff Yvarro is very -- keen, you might say -- on FIMS. For good reason, of course. And understand that I am seeking only to ride FIMS' coattails, not impact their funding in any way." Renata hesitated, then gave Korynn an apologetic smirk. "Sorry, that's a lot just as you're getting your feet on the ground here. Where are you headed? Perhaps we can discuss more along the way."


 
"Dr. Sol-Syna,"

"Call me Kory, please," the aging woman noted simply.

Westaway had her hands full. And seemed to do a bit of apologizing on top of it all. Absit was a mess, yes, but that's why they were here. It was the one part of the First Order that even a Jedi such as Kory could take pride in. They restored order to chaos. And then reached into the mud and lifted people out of it. "And understand that I am seeking only to ride FIMS' coattails, not impact their funding in any way."

"My dear, one thing I've learned is there's never enough money in the budget no matter who gets what," the woman noted with a slight, dismissive wave.

The best part about being a doctor were the patients. The beancounters on Dosuun could ignore the doctors. But sooner or later, the patients started complaining. Then the governors started complaining. Then the moffs started complaining and then the funding eventually came along.

"Plus, our goals are very much aligned. If we can help each other along, that's better for your refugees and my patients," Kory noted, turning it back on the moff. Or, former moff, as the case may be.

"Where are you headed? Perhaps we can discuss more along the way."

"The 704th set up a M*A*S*H unit outside Leone. Doctor Karisa Karisa is there now, I believe," Kory answered. It was a good idea. Westaway would have the best lay of the land in terms of where the communities were. It may be that the medical assets were positioned in the wrong places, or not for access to the communities with the greatest need. Those were insights that would be crucial to deploying health care across the planet. "That should provide an orientation to the current need for emergency medicine here, which is the most pressing."

The further illustrate, the woman explained, "We're deploying medical teams to various points around the planet, but primary and dental care will follow naturally once we've established a more permanent hospital here." It may have been that Westaway already knew that. But, no harm in assuring that everyone was on the same page. "In the meantime, my biggest concern with the mining operation and what we know of the accidents and working conditions is triage and identification. With the high liklihood of respiratory disease, exposure to carcinagenics, and traumatic injuries that were either misdiagnosed, not treated properly -- or not treated at all -- I worry it will take some time to establish a good baseline of the community health."

As she paused, Kory again turned the question back on the other woman. "I imagine you may be a little more focused on the preventive or protective factors," the elderly Jedi noted, elaborating, "Economy, job creation, standard of living."

That left the million credit question.

"What can I do to help you?"

 

Renata Westaway

Guest
R


Dr. Sol-Syna -- Kory, Renata reminded herself -- didn't seem to think that Renata was completely off her rocker, so that was a good start. "Of course," said Renata. "I've never been to that M*A*S*H* but I've heard of it. I'm hoping that they can make use of some of the medications and supplies I have. I know M*A*S*H* units aren't meant to be deployed indefinitely, but my thought was to settle some refugees in that region. Perhaps we can convince the Grand Moff to put a more permanent facility on the ground there. To be honest, the standard that the people of Absit have experienced before we became involved is not much better than refugees. I think perhaps we will see a lot of overlapping need."

As they proceeded along the walkway, Renata listened carefully to the older woman's observations. It was refreshing to be among someone who didn't seem all that interested in the public relations of a thing, and very concerned with the logistics and practicalities. Renata's experience had been the opposite, so far: everyone wanted to be seen doing the right thing for the refugees, but when it came time to making it happen, it was a shoestring budget.

When Kory asked what she could do to help, Renata took a deep breath.

"I'm afraid I'd only gotten so far as a basic premise," Renata said sheepishly. "By connecting the work we're doing in the eyes of the decision-makers on Dosuun -- and the public for that matter -- I think we could be more than the sum of our parts. Perhaps we can help each other. Absit desperately needs an expansion of its medical facilities. If we can show an increased demand, we might get a light shone on both the medical need and the refugee plight."


 

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