There was so much suffering on this world, it's pain was so immense, and even now Kalanda knew just how futile her efforts would truly be; maybe coming here was a mistake. Tending to the sick however, was something she could do, and indeed she did not halt her efforts in mending the wounds and ailments of the poor, though the Sith occupants of the world seemed to take issue with that. She had been fighting the fever of one of the older miners, when her 'spies' came to alert her of what was unfolding.
Her spies where in fact small children, whose loyalty she had purchased by the power of baked goods, and boy were they motivated.
"Miss Tishire, Miss Tishire, they're gathering people in the main square!" Ophilia, the second youngest of her agents, cried out, rushing into the ramshackle shack that Kalanda had turned into her aid center.
"Oh? Is that so?" She asked, taking the medical compound she had been stirring up, before serving it to her patient.
"Now sip this, slowly. It'll taste bitter, but unless you prefer to have Black Lung, I'd suggest you drink it to the last drop." Her patient was less than pleased to hear this, but took her advice to heart. Having tended to her current patient, Kalanda went to retrieve payment for agent, finding the biggest cookie she had in store, and giving it to Ophillia.
"Here you go dear, now run along." Seeing the bright smile that was given to her always did wonders for her mood, and now Kalanda felt confident she could handle whatever nonsense awaited her.
"Thank you!" The little girl quickly ran off, reward in hand, doing whatever it was slum children did when they weren't spying. There was a knock at her door, something she hated due to how frail it was, but being calm and collected she answered the door; only to find a pair of storm troopers waiting for her.
"Ma'am, we need you to come with us." One of the troopers asked, his partner kept a blaster leveled towards her, and Kalanda knew that she had little say in the matter. She glanced back to her patient, and found he hadn't finished drinking his medicine.
"You're right, it does taste terrible." He commented, sitting up from the medical table, as he eyed the storm troopers with caution. Kalanda only shook her head, as she was sorting her medical treatments, knowing well enough she was going to have to go to the main square soon.
"Well of course I'm right, that's why you came here Mister Grafter. But if you could hurry it along, I'd rather not get myself lined up by the firing squad. I'd have to sell my house and move again." Which was partly true, sadly the housing market on Chad was nonexistent.
"Right, right, sorry." Thankfully Mr. Grafter was true to his word, and once she had locked the shack down, Kalanda resigned herself to the fate awaiting her.
As she was led out by the troopers, Kalanda found herself being lined against the wall by with almost a dozen others; it seemed they were looking for someone in particular. The level of security here indicated that the planetary government was taking this seriously, as the last time she had seen this many storm troopers was during a protest. She wasn't concerned however, after all what reason would they have for holding her? Unless they were looking for jedi, which might be an issue. Thankfully, the CIS and the Sith had a treaty, but it was rather hard to tell an Obsidian Knight from a Jedi Knight; she even had a lightsaber to add to the confusion. Standing there, felt a cold presence growing closer, as the wine of a tie fighter drew closer, before landing in the middle of the square. That was when she felt a bit of concern, as she knew well enough what that meant; a Sith had come here of their own; they were looking for jedi. Fortunately there were no jedi here, unfortunately Kalanda was the closest thing to one. As the Sith approached, a woman clad in dark red armor, Kalanda could see there was an air about the woman that made her feel a tad sad. Her form appeared twisted, crippled in pain, the jagged edges of her shape, the swirling of stresses within the body indicated a hidden level of discomfort; it was tragic. Still, she kept a stoic look, putting on her best salesman smile, as she awaited for the Sith to make their move. She kept her senses on the Sith however, knowing she was by far the most deadly opponent she had here.
Amur