[JEDI MISSION] Lost Refugees

[Galavant]

Eriadu.

What a dump, Jillian though. The planet offended her in so many different ways. First there was the smell. The planet had a reputation for being heavily polluted, and you could smell it in the air. Jillian had spent a lot of time on the Light of the Force, and Anoth both of which were more or less sealed, providing an almost clinically clean quality of air making the smell of Eriadu all the more pronounced to Jillian. Then there was the humanocentrism. Jillian was Zelosian, and near enough to a human to pass for one in most cases, but she was still nonhuman. This was the place that produced people like Grand Moff Tarkin. It might not have been blatantly speciesist but there were certainly portions of the population that felt that way. And to think it had actually improved over how it used to be back in the days of Luke Skywalker!

But for all its flaws, Eriadu had come through the war relatively unscathed. It still had its industrial capacity, and still sat on a major trade route. For this reason it had become a popular destination for refugees who'd fled from the core. Most of them were human, and a portion of them were from Corellia. And that was why Jillian was on the ugly little world, along with two fellow Jedi Knights, Arisa Ikeli and Orlaan Hess. Jillian couldn't say she'd ever met either of the other Jedi before but the council wouldn't have paired them all up together for this mission if they didn't think all three were competent and could work well together.

In particular the three Jedi were seeking out Corellians who had first hand experience fighting the Sith. The entire system had been subjected to a prolonged siege, and even you still head about the occasional resistance group trying to strike a blow and liberate their system. Hopefully they could find some who were willing to share what they knew. Obviously this wasn't a mission where they could just walk right in and announce themselves as Jedi. There was always the threat of tipping off someone, who'd in turn tip off the Sith for whatever reason they might have. Not to mention there was a good chance the refugees would try to tear them apart if they found out. A lot of people still blamed the Jedi for leaving the Alliance to its fate.

So instead, Jillian was pretending to be an aid worker. A lot of different refugee aid groups had sprung up, especially on worlds like Eriadu which still had the wealth and a population willing to give to such efforts. They might not like aliens but that didn't mean they wanted see people who came to their world suffer needlessly. Well hopefully. Jillian was dressed in a dark grey jacket, with shirt and pants, and her favorite pair of black, scuffed, worn, boots. She had a briefcase sized medical case in one had, chocked full of food and medical supplies the Order could spare for this mission. The hope was that some of the refugees might be willing to share their experiences for some of the supplies. Jillian's plan to was to ask the questions under the guise that the answers would allow them to better treat wounded, and find where refugees had fled.

The trio of Jedi were at a crossroad between massive buildings, on the ground level of the planet. It was a poorer section where refugees, aliens, and criminals all mingled. Hopefully no one would try to mug them on their way through, after all why mug the people who were going to be giving supplies out for free.

"Which way?" Jillian asked her fellow Knights, looking in the three directions they could go. None of them really stood out to her but maybe her comrade would have more insight.

 

[Ben]

The looming space-scrapers and polluted skies left Eriandu a muted, dreary grey, as if the place was in the middle of a rain storm with no rain. Everything seemed to have stopped, there was no speeder traffic or pedestrian presence here on the street of the massive, once-great city, now left derelict, only settlers squatters and vermin. The air was still too, unusually quiet, as if the planet was holding it's breath, waiting for the war to hit here as it had the rest of the galaxy. Even the dust and smog that drifted through the air moved in a laconic, dead manner; drifting on chocked, stunted winds. The place was devoid of life, the settlements of the refugees lay just outside the city limits, but the permacrete pavements offered safer purchase for landing the trio's bulky freighter. The stale air seemed to sit in Orlaan's lungs like the squatters sat in the decrepit buildings as he moved besides his two peers, and two women older than he was, both Knights. Ghess had been returning from an outing to Tatooine when he had been directed by the Watch Master's liaison, and ordered to aid in a refugee aid and information gathering expedition on the industrial behemoth of Eriadu, he had of course, agreed.

"Which way?" The oldest of the group put forth, Knight Jillian, gesturing towards the three street's before them, one for each Jedi. She was a short, attractive women with green eyes not dissimilar to Orlaan's own, and brown hair a shade darker than his, and less coloured, elegant touches of grey appearing at the temples.

"The centre." Orlaan replied, pointing one meaty arm down the main street, the way out of the cities suffocating oppressiveness. "I can feel the refugee camps outside the city walls, likely the pollution here is too intense to those unused to it." Orlaan could not blame them, he could stomach rough environments, having found himself in many nasty predicaments far worse than a scummy city in his thirty years, but he was not fond of how the Force itself felt limp and lackluster here.

He paused and thought about that for a moment, he was twenty-nine! Not yesterday he had been a teenager fleeing the disaster of Curuscant and being scared by the damage Andraste had put the Force through. The galaxy now crept with the sickly, cold embrace of the grave and the Dark side, but the Jedi were still here, and they were unifying again. Orlaan was as pleased as he could be in these Dark times, and he would keeping pushing until the Force's balance was restored, or until the Light won out.

 

[Wolf231]

Eriadu was not what she had been expecting. She had thought she had found something about it on the holo and read up on it, but perhaps she had spelled it wrong, or it had simply changed and not been recorded. Or, more likely - they were in the most run down section they could find so that their aid worker guise had the best chance of working. Not that she saw these people and how they were suffering, however, she wasn't sure she wanted the aid worker to be just a guise - they could really use some help here. Just the smell was enough to make her crinkle her nose at first, though she was slowly getting used to it. And they were all living in filth and poverty - refugees with nowhere else to go, with no hope and no future. The only problem was that the limited supplies they had brought with them wouldn't go very far at all. They could save a large group, but the sheer number of them was staggering. It made her heart sad to know that this was at least partially their fault, the Jedi - though staying to fight would have only spelled their own doom. At least as they were, they had a chance still to save the Galaxy.

She shook her head and focused on their mission. They had a reason for being here, and she had to keep focused on it or she'd get lost in trying to help these people. The other female Knight had spoken and she realized that she had completely missed what had been said, but thankfully Orlaan had come to her rescue and answered it. A direction, it seemed, was what was wanted. His words sounded right to her so she nodded and started to move towards the center of all of this hurt, feeling her way through the force. It almost felt like a wound, to be near so much suffering - but then again, it was nothing compared to what had happened to Coruscant. Pushing that dark thought quickly out of her head she continued moving along, wondering if any of these refugees were even the ones they were looking for. None of them looked very battle hardened to her, anyways. But then - now that she thought about it, what did it mean to look 'battle hardened' anyways? She wasn't actually sure what to look for. It was something she should have thought of earlier and meditated on, she decided.

For now she hoped that the others had come at least slightly more prepared then she had. She looked down at the medical supplies she was carrying before looking back up and smiling at any nearby refugees who were looking her way. "There is much suffering here. I wouldn't mind organizing more substantial help for these people after we are done." She kept her voice low so that only the other two Knights would hear her, not wanting to blow their cover.

 

[Galavant]

The best way to help these people is find what we're after, Jillian thought in response. She didn't want to say out loud, and possibly blow their cover. Seeing these people suffering in squalor certainly pulled on her heartstrings, but the cold hard truth was the Order couldn't do much to help all these people. In the days before the fall they could have with relative ease. Then they'd had supplies, numbers, the might at the Alliance at their back, and the ability to travel the galaxy without looking over their shoulders at every turn. Now the amount of supplies the three Jedi had on them was all that could be spared for a such mission, the Alliance was shattered and whatever remnants and rebels that still fought on its name were no friend of the Jedi. They were alone, hunted, and despised. Jillian was certain that, that would change one day. At the end of the day she was an optimist, who believed that Jedi would prevail. Maybe not today, or tomorrow, or even in the next ten years. But one day they'd overcome the numerous and seemingly insurmountable challenges before them. And if they wanted that day to be sooner rather than later they were going to need all the information they could get, such as the info the Corellian's could potentially provide.

"Hopefully we'll get the chance to do so," Jillain replied aloud, keeping her voice as low as her fellow Knight's. Right now they had a more pressing problem. How did they find the Corellians? As they headed down the road Orlaan had suggested, the number of refugees increased, but for Jillian it was hard to distinguish one group over another. Sure Corellian's could be set apart from their fellow humans with their brash nature, piloting skills, drinking, and close knit families. But here in the streets of Eriadu, one group of refugees looked no different from another to Jillian. Finding people, wasn't really her skill. If you needed someone to pick out a fake artifact out of a group of them, she was your Jedi. But things like this others were no doubt more skilled. She gave her fellow Knights a question look, hoping they'd pick up on it, and that one of them would be able to pick the refugees they were looking for out of the crowd that flooded the streets. Odds were if they could find at least one Corellian, they'd be able to pick up on the location of the others. Jillian might not know how to find people that well, but she knew Corellian's had a tendency to congregate together even when they were on other worlds. There was even an entire area of Nar Shaddaa home to them, and if the refugees had any family with them, they'd no doubt be sticking together with them and whatever group they'd traveled to Eriadu with.

 

[Ben]

If Orlaan new anything, he knew people. He had seen much of the galaxies highs and lows in his relative period of existence; he had dined with aristocrats on tropical worlds, meditated with ascetic sage's on untouched oasis', and slummed it with construction crews in the grime and strife of more than one mine or ecumenopolis, and so reading people came easy to him. It wasn't just this that made Orlaan a skilled tracker and finger, however, his talents went on one step further in other ways, less tangible to most folks. Orlaan, at his present moment it time, was not a Master swordsman, nor for that matter, had he accomplished many great feats of Force exertion or complex techniques; but if he had one thing on his side, it was the depth of his connection with the Force. It was not something that he was simply a part of, or something that flowed through him that he could call upon; excepting the period of his derailment, it had always been more than that with him, as if he and the Force were simply one, as if he operated and moved in the Force just as nonchalantly as he moved his limbs, yet even more subconscious, like the myocardial beating of his heart.

This had never meant that he could move star destroyers, or that he had the strength of a rancor, but he felt things when even other Force sensitives did not; subtle traces, like an inherent ability with Force psychometry, extending beyond the limitations of the technique, however. So, as the stumble and groaning figures emerged from the fog and debris clouds that swarmed the streets and inhibited his vision to a couple of hundred feet, Orlaan watched, he sensed, he listed; it was not long before his efforts were duly rewarded. Ghess had been absently musing over the few words passed between his two female companions, sharing Arisa's wishes, but valuing Jillian's veiled pragmatism. He was firmly of the belief that the Jedi would prevail, even if that meant serving the balance over serving the light, but he knew that if they were to succeed, they could not focus on the small problems; although he could not always turn a blind eye and work for the greater good, he was not focused or ruthless enough, truth be told, he did not want to be. He did see one obstacle standing in the way of progress and peace, however, and that was disunion; if the Jedi were ever to win, they would need unity. Of the Force, of the Order, and of the Galaxy.

Orlaan was thinking these thoughts, which he had already processed a thousand times in the last week alone when he spotted what he was looking for: a Corellian militant. The blood stripe on his pants and the blaster at his hip could have been faked, but the resolution and defiance in his eyes stood out among the hopelessness and despair surrounding him; his swaggering gait alone could have marked him out for what he was. He was only one, unaccompanied by other's of his society, but one Corellian always knew the whereabouts of many, and if they could persuade him that their intentions where true, then they may secure his assistance. The problem was, Corellians were famously unpredictable. He may find solace in eloquent words and the promises of aid, or he may laugh in their faces for it, sneering cynically in that oh-so Corellian manner. He may take a shine to them as Jedi, or despise them as much as the rest of the galaxy did; but if there was one thing that Orlaan had learnt about Corellians that you rarely had to gamble on, it was this: they appreciated two things, balls, and honesty.

"There, in the brown overcoat, by the drainage chute." Orlaan was naturally quiet when he was around unfamiliar company, his reserved side taking presidency, and now was no different, he made no conscious effort to lower his voice, he was just quiet. "He's alone, but he will be able to tell us where more Corellians are... if you want my advice, I say be honest. Tell what we want and who we are upfront, their society has a reputation for being con-artists, you can't con a con-artist. I have spent a little time with Corellians before, well, more than a little I guess." Orlaan scratched his beard and kept his eyes roaming, giving no indication that he had let on to the man in the overcoat, or that he was looking for anything in particular at all.

 

[Wolf231]

Arisa nodded towards Jillian; even though she understood that they didn't have the resources to really help these people, she hoped there was at least something the Order could do. She wasn't sure what, but it made her sad to see so much suffering. Orlaan was calm and focused, she soon learned, and was in the process of pointing out a Corellian to them. She studied the man he had indicated and found that she had to agree. She was no expert on people, but she did have at least some experience with Corellians. And this one more then fit the bill. That determined stride and harsh look to his eyes confirmed it for her as well. She considered Orlaan's advice quietly for a few moments.

Well, it sounded right to her. He had the right of it when it came to Corellians; she could find not fault at all in his reasoning. Honesty was something she could, and she meant to be direct about it. She made no motion to hide her movements from the man, but also did her best not to look frightening. He would likely place his hand on his blaster due to her approach, but she would ignore that. She marched directly up to him and came to a stop, not asking his name or offering her own. There would be plenty of time for that later, if he didn't just brush them off anyways. She had always been the direct sort, so this worked out well for her. "Hey."

That was all the greeting she offered, and before he could make any form of comment in response to it she kept right on talking. "We'd like to talk to you about fighting Imperials." That should get his attention. Hopefully it wasn't such a sore spot that he wanted nothing to do with it - but from that look in his eyes, she got the feeling that he was looking for a place to fight, not a place to run away to. That was much more Corellian anyways; she had heard it had taken the Sith years to conquer the planet. And that without any outside source of aid, as well. Perhaps the Alliance should have made its final stand there instead of on Coruscant - but then, what the Sith had done had been simply monstrous. Even Corellian would have quickly succumbed in the face of that onslaught.

 

[Galavant]

"We'd like to talk to you about fighting Imperials."

It was all Jillian could do to not stop her fellow Knight's foot hard, and scream 'what are you doing?'. To her it came across as insanely risky to just flat out tell them why they were here. Maybe Arisa knew something Jillian didn't, but she thought that being so upfront would scare them away more than anything else. She didn't think they should have been dishonest with the man, it wasn't like the Jedi didn't honestly want to help them. Instead should have started with the fact that they had some medical supplies. Now anything that Jillian could think of to say about them would sound like it was a bribe, and what kind of aid worker tried to bribe refugees for information? The kind that weren't really aid workers of course.

"What my friend meant to say is that we'd like to talk about the kinds of injuries sustained while fighting Imperials," Jillian said, hoping the man believed her. It had the benefit of being true, and didn't sound like something more ominous as the vague "about fighting Imperials" might have. She held up the medkit and continued," It'll help us make better use of this stuff and waste less if we know what kinds of injuries can be expected on transports coming in."

 

[Ben]

The Corellian looked between the two women and blinked in confusion before making a pfft sound and walking away shaking his head; Orlaan rolled his eyes, had these Jedi ever met a Corellian before? He doubted it. Instead of beating around the bush or trying to cajole the man or dodge around the truth, Orlaan grabbed his shoulder and spun the man back to face them; an easy feet for someone the young Jedi's size. The man scowled and his mouth was about to open in protest or abuse before Ghess jumped in first. "Look, buddy. Just hear us out, I'm not going to waste your time believe me; we are only trying to do right by your people."

The scruffy-looking and unshaven man's mouth hung open for a minute before it snapped shut, his eyes set and he leaned back, folding his arms and raising an eyebrow when Orlaan did not carry on immediately. "Well, go on kid! What are you waitin' for?" Orlaan nodded and got right too it.

"Listen pal, we have supplies here, I am no trying to bribe you with them, they are yours as long as you use them to help your people. We know a group of your native Corellians are here on Eriadu, and I have a strong hunch you will know how to find them, if you aren't already with them anyway." Orlaan turned and gave his two peers a cool glance, not to intimidate them into not speaking - he could not do that if he wanted to, tough as Jedi where these days - but to reassure and calm them, he knew what he was doing. This man stank of suffering and grim perseverance in the Force, he had been there when Corellia fell, Orlaan almost caught flashes of it as he skimmed from the Corellians' mind. "We want to speak to you and your kinsmen about fighting the Empire. We need all the help we can get buddy, and there isn't a lot of help out there for people like us nowadays; but we can help, someone just has to let us." When the man did not stop him, instead cautiously taking and testing the weight of the briefcase in his hands, Orlaan continued. "We think you can tell us their tactics, their numbers, anything that can help; and if any of you able-bodied men can fight, well, we can give you a chance to fight for the justice you deserve, if you choose to take it. This isn't a conscription, just a chance. What do you say? Will you help us out?"

Orlaan didn't think the man stupid, he probably saw past Orlaan's refugee rags to his disciplined attitude and lack of military curtness and deduce the trio's Jedi origins, and if he asked, Orlaan would tell him. They had nothing to fear from a man like this, and if he turned out to be an informant, he could not escape three Jedi easily. The man stood for a moment, a perfect sabaac face, no reactions; and Orlaan waited.

 

[Wolf231]

Arisa looked at Jillian as she spoke, and then the youngster jumped in as well. He seemed to garner some success as he talked, or at least the Corellian wasn't waving then off and walking away. Of course, it made sense for Orlaan to talk to him and wondered why he hadn't just done so in the first place. If he was an expert on Corellians, he should have said so or been the first to talk. It occurred to her that she had spent the better part of her life alone and probably wasn't very good at actually talking to people. Well, it was no matter now. Orlaan had peaked the mans interest (she thought? His poker face was pretty good) and now they were standing there waiting for him to say something. And while the three cases of medical supplies might not be much, they were far more than nothing, so she was guessing he'd at least talk to them until he had the cases in his possession.

She glanced around and noted that more than a few of the nearby refugees were looking their way. Orlaan having to physically spin the man around seemed to be what had drawn the attention, or perhaps it was the medical supplies they were all carrying. She wasn't sure she liked the feeling she was getting from the crowd right now. Some of them just might be needy enough to try to steal them - or try to rob them. And while a brawl would not end well for the refugees, if someone drew a blaster and started shooting there would be chaos, perhaps death. She looked back towards the others, hoping it was all just in her head but speaking quietly anyways. "Perhaps we should take this discussion somewhere more private."

 

[Galavant]

Jillian nodded in agreement with Arisa, but didn't say anything. Orlaan seemed to be having the best luck, and Jillian didn't know much about Corellians. The only one she could say that she knew really well was a Jedi Master, not exactly the best model of the typical Corellian like that in front of them. Instead she reached out, subtly with the force, to sense any danger. She didn't feel anything but the mixture of emotions that one would expect among refugees like sadness, loss, with hints of anger. But nothing really malicious, at least not actively. There was an undercurrent of unease, that was unsettling, and could certainly spark into something more chaotic if given the chance. Hopefully the Corellian and Orlaan would notice the way the rest of the crowd was reacting. Even without the force, it wasn't hard to see the people here were on edge. They'd been through so much that no doubt made them wary of strangers. Even as refugee workers, Jillian was starting to get the feeling they stuck out like a sore thumb. Hopefully they could get to somewhere quiet and let the tension ease in the streets before they headed out again. Jillian really didn't want things to end in violence on this trip. If it did it would mean Jillian had failed to put into practice everything she'd been taught about resolving situations peacefully. Not to mention that if things went really sour it could reflect poorly on the Order. It's image was already damaged enough that it probably wouldn't matter, but it still wouldn't bode well for future successes if three of its Knights couldn't even talk to refugees.

 

[Ben]

Orlaan sensed the growing unease of the swelling mass of people, along with the concern of his fellow Jedi, but if he didn't push the matter now, they would probably lose the confidence of the Corellian; so he pressed his advantage. "So what do you say, buddy?" Orlaan spread his hands and hunched his shoulders. "Gonna help us out and take us to your people?" The man stood tapping his foot and rolling his jaw for what seemed like an eternity whilst he measured his response, looking the three mismatched figures up and down.

"Fine, follow me." The scruffy chap nodded and threw a thumb over his shoulder, down the way they had been travelling before they spotted him; the crowd began to disperse immediately, thinning to the stumbling and languid flow it had been before. Orlaan turned and beamed a big grin at his fellows, giving them two thumbs up behind the mans back. He realized this would look silly and probably concern them that he would give away their position, but he figured that if anything would have happened by now then it would have; his small celebration would not change that. He hoped that it would draw a guffaw of laughter from at least one of them and lighten their intense moods to keep up with his relatively relaxed, albeit wary, state.

As he turned back to follow the Corellian, his smile kept in place, glad that the trio would at least have a crack at helping these people. He did, however, remain cautious, looking out for any sign of a trap that a desperate refugee might try and set to con some supplies from three off-worlders. The man seemed honourable as Corellian's usual were however, and if he did have plans, the Force did not betray as much, so Orlaan was content to follow for now. Grass and hills and rich red earth could be seen in the distance beyond the city as the fog cleared.

 

[Wolf231]

The crowd calmed quickly as they moved on, which was good. She hadn't been looking forward to intimidating refugees until they left - or having to hurt them. Everything seemed to be working out well enough for their mission at least; this Corellian seemed willing to bring them to his comrades and perhaps even help them out with the information they needed. Then Orlaan turned and gave them two thumbs up with a silly grin on his face and she let out a giggle before bringing her hand up to cover it. That just wasn't professional at all! She glanced around and saw that most of the refugees were no longer paying attention to them, which was good. She didn't want to be remembered as 'That aid worker who giggled like a little girl child'.

Especially since they were supposed to not be leaving a trail behind for others to follow. That was a primary point of any mission they went on; if you left a trail the Sith -would- find it at some point. So any trail left needed to be small enough that when they did find it, it was so cold that a Yeti would shiver. She thought they were doing a good job so far; even if they did stand out a bit it wasn't in a way that screamed 'Jedi' to anyone except perhaps the Corellian they were directly talking to. And considering what had happened on his homeworld, at the very least they could fairly safely assume he wasn't about to go running to tell the Sith anything. She followed along as they walked quietly, keeping a watch on anyone who came near them but soon finding that even that with wasnt needed as they seemed to be moving outside of the city entirely.

 

[Galavant]

Jillian held on tight to the case of medical supplies as she followed the other two Jedi, and the Corellian. She remained more cautious, but had given a simple thumbs up to Orlaan when he turned and grinned at her and Arisa. As they left the more crowded refugee section, Jillian, could see the greenery in the distance but instead of lifting her spirits the sight merely made her heart sink a little. Yes it was nice to see plantlife on a world best known for being gray cityscape, but even from here Jillian could see how the pollution effected it. The shade of green was all wrong for what she would have considered healthy. It was a paler, sicklier color than it would've been on worlds like Arbra and Zelos.

Jillian still didn't speak up which people who knew her as she was in the temple might consider a record. Typically she was chatty to the point of being obnoxious. But in this case her more cautious side told her that speaking up might not be the best course of action. She was well aware she talked too much in some cases...Or at least she was aware that sometimes she talked a little too much. She didn't want to risk blurting something out that might offend the man. Facts about Corellia's various bids for independence for instance might not be the best topic for conversation when they were trying to convince a Corellian to work with them. She didn't know anything about the man but Corellian stereotypes said they were a proud people and Jillian wasn't about to check and see if that was true in this particularly instance. Some might think it hard to be proud and a refugee but Jillian at least knew enough about people to know they were often more complex and contradictory than their surfaces would tell you they were.

 

[Ben]

The dirt and grass looked less lush and more sallow as they approached; Orlaan couldn't help himself, a grimace appeared on his face as they drew near to the chocked and stunted flora. They walked for another ten minutes before they reached a standing of gnarled, ashen trees next to a languid brook clogged with twigs and garbage; he felt the urge to go and clear the thing out, but they had more pressing issues to hand. Huddled around a sputtering campfire, sitting on mossy logs or emptied food crates, the sorriest bunch of Corellians Orlaan had ever seen moped and grumbled between themselves.

It wasn't so much an eerie silence as an awkward mumble, quiet as if afraid of people overhearing the complaints about the crappy toilets, or the murky water. Orlaan sighed as he assessed the situation, forgetting the urgency of his mission in place of the true trauma and depression on the faces of the refugees. Children smeared with dirt and dressed in stained and damp rags lay sick and wheezing in the arms of worried mothers; whilst the old hunched, dying of cold and starvation, along with a tirade of diseases. "Come one come all!" Orlaan bellowed in his most upbeat voice, gesturing for his peers to throw open their cases to the crowds that had barely stirred from their laconic slouching at his cry. "Meds, food, clean water and blankets; expressly for the use of the most-sorry ass bunch of Corellians I have ever seen."

If Corellian's hated anything, it was a stung pride, and there pride was hurt; even if they didn't know it. They were either too dumb or too run down to realize that their pride was damaged just by their attitudes, but for those that fell into this category, his words did the trick. A few of the broken men began to grumble among themselves, casting him spiteful glances without bothering to rise from their languor whilst some of the women approached with sickened children. Their guide cast his a weary glance full of trepidation before Orlaan began one more. "You call yourself Corellians? I have seen more life in a insipid, impotent Neimoidians!" It was with a wicked grin that their leading Corellian realized what Orlaan was trying to do, stepping forward and holding out the case that they had traded with him.

"He's right you know, we make a pitiful gang of scumbags lounging round on our asses all day. Meds and food here, what are you doing sitting around? Boost a move already!" Hearing it from one of their own seemed to make the reality settle in somewhat, so Orlaan let them handle the supplies among themselves whilst their guide show a grateful and sincere smile across his shoulder at the trio, his eyes brimming with moisture.

"That ought to do it." Orlaan settled back with his peers, expecting an ear full for throwing away their bargining chips without any terms set up, never mind discussed. "I figure that they will tell us anything they want now, and if not, I am not sure that it outweighs the good these supplies did. I mean, sure, it was grim back on the high street, but this? Nah, this was just too wrong. No Corellian should look this way, makes the rest of the galaxy do a double-take if these stubborn SOB's are down in the dumps."

Before the women could dive for his throat, the Corellian from the city came trotting over, a beaming smile on his face; a changed man from fifteen minutes ago. "Thanks a bunch, you really saved our hides there." Orlaan was about to say don't mention it when the man cut him off. "No, seriously. My daughter has type two diabetes, the meds you brought quite literaly saved our family; my wife was distraught." Orlaan smiled and nodded, patting the man's shoulder, finely managing to get his 'don't mention it' past his lips before turning back to his peers, hoping this would sway them a little.

 

[Wolf231]

Arisa remained quiet as they approached, Orlaan at least seemed to know what he was doing so she didn't mind letting him take the lead on this one. That opinion was ripe for change when he gave all of their meds away without even asking a question; if this didn't work they weren't going to be getting further supplies to be bargaining with, so it had better work. She was even going to mention it, likely sarcastically, but that Corellian they had been following came back and gave his thanks, along with the tale of his daughter. Well now, that just wasn't fair, making her even more empathetic of the refugees' situation. She sighed inwardly and gave a nod towards Orlaan; information notwithstanding it had certainly been the right play. There was too much suffering here to care about anything else, for her at least.

So instead of saying anything, she turned and followed after the medical container she had brought, offering her medical training to anyone who needed it. While reluctant at first, as she showed one by one that she knew what she was doing - and with the use of the Force to augment the healing progress of those who really needed it - and with a gentle smile on her face, she sat and simply helped these downtrodden refugees as much as she was able to. The only questions she asked were to determine the extent of injuries; she left the big questions to Orlaan and the extremely grateful Corellian who had led them here. He was likely the most inclined to help them out, and Orlaan seemed the best suited to speak to him. Getting involved with it herself wasn't necessary.

She made a priority of healing the children, not only because she had a soft spot for them but also that every adult here insisted on it. It spoke of the intense amount of courage these people possessed; it did not matter if they might not make it, their first priority was the well being of their children. They would be good allies to have, for anyone who could put the needs of others ahead of their own had to have a good heart, she thought. People worth fighting with, and that wasn't even counting the stories she'd heard of how long Corellian had stood alone against the Imperial army. Her eyes shifted towards Orlaan, hoping to see a smile or some other indication of good news on that front.

 

[Galavant]

When Jillian saw the clogged brook, she also wanted to dive in and start cleaning out, as much for the environmental reasons as for personal curiosity. Digging through trash was a surprisingly great way to find out how people lived their lives, and like the brook a lot of people never really bothered cleaning it up. At least not as well as they should have if they didn't want people like Jillian to dig it up thousands of years later and say 'ooh fascinating'.

Unlike her fellow Knights, Jillian didn't open her medkit up and start distributing supplies to the numerous Corellians gathered around. She had a number of reasons for not doing so that she hoped her fellows would be able to understand and not think of her a cold hearted witch, even if some of the Corellians did. The first reason was she intended to give it to the man they'd been talking and walking with so they'd have a supply to distribute later on. It was good that Orlaan and Arisa giving medicine to the people that needed it now, but the man they were with seemed to be a leader in the community, and Jillian wanted to give it someone who'd be sure to conserve it for when they might need later on down the road. There weren't going to be Jedi with medkits coming every day unfortunately, and if it came up this would be the reason she gave that could fit in with the cover as an aid worker.

The second reason was that she didn't want to hand over there only bargaining chip left. Jillian might not understand the nuances of Corellian culture the way Orlaan certainly did, but she did understand negotiating at least a little from haggling for various trinkets, artifacts, and tidbits of information. You didn't just put all your cards on the table and hope that the other person wouldn't screw you over. Jillian didn't think the Corellians would, but until they got the information they needed she was more wary. From what she'd seen and so far and already knew the Corellian might actually respect them for doing so, they certainly had a lot of odd peculiarities to their culture. Not that, that made them all that much different from the countless others in the galaxy. Jillian's own people, the Zelosians, were typically fearful of the dark, and had to deal with parasites that caused the dead to walk. And that was only the start. Appearances and some of the more general aspects might link a lot of humans and near-humans in the galaxy, but there still enough differences to fill the void between the systems they inhabited.

So Jillian stood near her fellow Jedi, waiting for whatever would happen next. She clutched tight at the case in her hands in case someone might try to knock her over and grab it for themselves. Jillian was certainly not the strongest, but if somebody tried to take it they'd be in for a nasty surprise. Not to mention it'd look like they were mugging a diminutive aid worker, which might not go over well with the Corellians surrounded the Jedi who and were getting meds from them. At least Jillian hoped it wouldn't.

 

[Ben]

Orlaan looked over to his companions, Arisa wandered off to help others, Orlaan smiled at her and gave a warm, encouraging nod. He then eyed the shewed, tactful Jillian; clutching her case and observing the situation with guarded, quick eyes. Orlaan gave her a little nudge in the Force, doubtless she noticed him, although she didn't look at his directly. He gestured for her to come to him, and tapped the Corellian man on the shoulder. He would want her cautious reserve there to balance him as he pressed on with negotiating their missions goal. "Hey, I hate to crash the party, but you look like the person to talk to." The Corellian didn't frown or ask for more time with his family, he simply smiled and nodded. Orlaan guided him by the elbow to a series of log's around a sputtering fire off to the edge of the camp; most were at the center with Arisa.

Orlaan jerked his head towards the seats, looking at Jillian, he did not want to seem commanding, so he gave her a smile too. "I don't want to twist your arm, or seem like I am buying your aid - you've got to understand I wanted to help your family - but I have problems as much as you guys here do too. Well, problems I must address." He gave a quick glance to Jillian, hoping to see her moving their way. "How involved where you with the battle of Corellia? We all heard stories, and one in particular interests me. A group that continued fighting on the run from the Empire; refugees like yourselves. What would you happen to know about them and their interactions with the Empire?"

"Well, I don't know why you would want to go looking for people like the Imperials, but I owe you one..." The fact they did not know each others names - nor where they willing to exchange them - became painfully obvious in the second of silence. It was a grim necessity of the times that both instilled a sense of mutual respect and acknowledgement, whilst also putting a thousand light years between them. "... so I am going to help you as much as I can. I was a part of that group, we had the women and the children safe for the most part; we would harry the Empire, inconveniencing them wherever we could. They were tough bastards, but we were quick and quiet. All the firepower takes a while to move; just like aiming a heavy blaster, it ain't gonna be quick." He chortled, before his face flattened to a frown. "Wish I could say we did more, but it began to get too dangerous, we were taking losses that we couldn't afford. Eventually we had to put our families before our ideals, and this is how we got here." The man gestured compellingly with his hands; Orlaan understood his decision.

 

[Galavant]

Jillian felt Orlaan nudge her mentally, and walked with him and the leader of the Corellians over to the edges of the camp. Sitting down, the chairs weren't particularly comfortable but seemed solid enough to her. Listening to Orlaan and the man talk, she kept her grip on the case. Once again it was a said story, and Jillian certainly felt for these people but it still wasn't what they needed. But on the other hand he'd indicated his willingness to cooperate further so....

"Do you have list of the fallen?" She asked."We might be able to use it to let other family members know if we come across them. How they died, if you could get that information would also be helpful. And any other list for wounds or medicines used could help us make better use of these resources," She finished tapping the case in her lap.

She didn't come out and directly ask for what the Jedi needed, instead trying to show some tact. Anyone with a heart would want to help someone trying to let family members know if someone had been killed. The refugee situation had torn them asunder, and it made sense that an aid group like the one they were posing for could have the resources to inform others of their losses. It might end up actually being used for that as well. More than a few Jedi were natives of Corellia, and knowing the names of such fallen could tell them who was trustworthy on other worlds. If you knew someone's brother had been killed by Imperials, you knew he or she probably had very little reason to love them. The other two parts however were much more important. Jillian wasn't an expert in battles or weapons, and had only a passionate amateurs knowledge of medicine. But being the history expert she was, she knew that things that happened after the fact could you a lot about what had happened before. Some of the Jedi who knew more about weapons and medicine would be able to figure out from such lists what tactics the Sith had used.

The Real question was whether or not such lists existed. Jillian hoped they did, if the refugees had such tight familial bonds they'd most definitely have the first, and if they had anyone with a decent amount of medical knowledge they'd likely have the others from someone who'd kept track of such things to properly ration the medicines they did have, and watch over the recovery of the injured. It might be scattered in a few different places, but it wasn't a task that should take more than few hours.

The Corellian man eyed Jillian with suspicion, what she was asking for didn't seem like much but you never knew what kind of information could get you in trouble. If she were an Imperial Agent, that kind of information could be used to track down possible resistance fighters, and confirm the deaths of ones they hadn't known were dead. But the group had brought medicines, and seemed sincere, especially the two who'd already started distributing theirs. It was a risk, but so was letting these strangers into the camp in the first place. After sitting in silent deliberation for a short time, the man made his choice.

"We could that kinda stuff for you," He said slowly, casting a suspicious gaze towards Orlaan, Arisa, and then back to Jillian. "Could take a few hours though...not exactly a central galactic databank here."

Whatever reaction he expected, it certainly wasn't the one Jillian gave.

"Perfect," She said with a large smile spreading over her face. She'd somehow managed to stay stoic up until now, but with their goal in sight she couldn't help but burst out a little.

....

A few hours later Jillian's medkit was gone, replaced with a number of datapads containing the information they needed, and stood at the edge of the camp waiting for her comrades to finish up before they departed. The refugees had dispersed for the most part, the interest in the visitors having waned during the hours the Jedi had waited. The sun was beginning to set, and everything Jillian saw a long shadow. She didn't relish the idea of travelling back the way they came at night, no matter well the artificial lights kept everything lit.

"Well thanks," The Corellian man said, standing near Jillian.For the gruff Corellian the acknowledgement was worth a thousand thank you's from someone else. Jillian simply nodded her head in response. He didn't seem like he wanted to stick around to chat, and neither did she. As he wandered off she turned to the other two Jedi with her.

"Shall we?" She asked, motioning towards the way back with her arms full of datapads.

 

[Ben]

"We shall." Orlaan motioned for his counterparts to go ahead and turned back to their advocate one last time. "I hope you all benefit from what little we could offer as much as we will from what you have given us; again, thanks." Orlaan clapped him on the shoulder and wrung his hand, but before he could leave the man stopped him with a gentle hand.

"Wait... who are you?" His eyes were guarded, but the tone of his voice gave a hint at the burning curiosity he was harboring. "Why did you want that data so bad?" All Orlaan could do was offer him a sad smile.

"I am sorry, but you aren't quite ready to know that yet." Orlaan referred to the wider galaxy with his use of you. "Just know we are friends, helping hands." And balances. He tacked on in his mind. The man didn't seem satisfied, but he let it drop with a shake of his head and another smile. Orlaan backed up and caught up with the other two.

"I'm glad we could help here. Only if it was something little." With that he wandered off with the others in the direction they had come; Orlaan, to the civilian shuttle transport.