Ayden Cater
Grumpy Goat
Not everything in the galaxy was sunshine and teddy bears. Not every world could afford to be concerned with petty things like trade disputes and rigged elections. Some worlds just worried about the next day. Some worlds just worried about living. It was that distress that first caught Ayden's ear. Refugees arriving on Corellia were not uncommon, since it sat at a major hyperlane intersection. Usually they only arrived in pairs. Of late, however, more and more were arriving. And they were arriving from a very particular world along the Corellian Run.
For months now, people were showing up in tattered rags, leaving red dust all throughout the local spaceports. Some complained of the filth that was showing up, but for Ayden, the represented an old debt. One that he finally felt he would be able to repay.
"Rena?" Ayden pressed a com button to the receptionist that was obstinately employed for him. They did not mind each other, but both knew that he wasn't the type to typically need her services. "Yes, Mister Cater?" came the clipped voice on the other end. "If there's any meeting or some such nonsense in my future, cancel them. I'll be out of the office."
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"I know that our military forces are spread thin. However, what I'm proposing is not a military intervention, but a humanitarian one." Ayden stood on a platform, holo-conferencing with the Prex on Fondor. "I'll be tapping local resources here on Corellia and the nearby systems. All I ask for is some manpower to help me help their world. They suffer enough from the hardships of their world. I see no reason to let them continue to suffer in our backyard while we have cocktails. Figuratively speaking, of course."
It was rare that Ayden spoke so passionately, and without ulterior motive. It was clear that, no matter what the others would do, he was going to Rhommamool.
For months now, people were showing up in tattered rags, leaving red dust all throughout the local spaceports. Some complained of the filth that was showing up, but for Ayden, the represented an old debt. One that he finally felt he would be able to repay.
"Rena?" Ayden pressed a com button to the receptionist that was obstinately employed for him. They did not mind each other, but both knew that he wasn't the type to typically need her services. "Yes, Mister Cater?" came the clipped voice on the other end. "If there's any meeting or some such nonsense in my future, cancel them. I'll be out of the office."
----------
"I know that our military forces are spread thin. However, what I'm proposing is not a military intervention, but a humanitarian one." Ayden stood on a platform, holo-conferencing with the Prex on Fondor. "I'll be tapping local resources here on Corellia and the nearby systems. All I ask for is some manpower to help me help their world. They suffer enough from the hardships of their world. I see no reason to let them continue to suffer in our backyard while we have cocktails. Figuratively speaking, of course."
It was rare that Ayden spoke so passionately, and without ulterior motive. It was clear that, no matter what the others would do, he was going to Rhommamool.