Ask Refuge for the refugees

[Tristodd Brentioch]

Thyferra was a hot and humid planet, member of the Independent Systems Consortium. The planet was chosen by the ISC Refugee Agency as the place to where some of the survivors of the glassing of Firrerre were being relocated.

Being a member of the agency, Tristodd was overseeing the transportation of a group of Firrerreo. The young man was on a transport en route to Thyferra, thinking about what he saw and felt in Firrerre. So much destruction, he still couldn’t understand why the Sith did it. What made them bomb Firrerre? Was it only for the pleasure of seeing the suffering of other sentient beings? Perhaps his parents were right, the Force was dangerous. The Brentaalan wondered if he would become a monster due to his abilities.

His musings were interrupted by a member of the crew announcing that they had arrived in Thyferra. Tristodd started to feel anxious, it would be his first time in an official mission of the Refugee Agency. The young man knew that a high ranking member of the ISC would be there to meet the refugees. He needed to make a good impression or his parents would be furious again, the last thing that he wanted was his father slapping him in the face again. The man even bought new clothes for the occasion. He was using a tight blue cavalier vest over a black dress shirt and dark blue skinny pants.

While the transport started to descend on the planet, Tristodd felt his anxiety growing. He pulled his exercise balls from his pants’ pocket and started to rotate them in his right hand. The Brentaalan knew that he could speak properly with any member of the ISC, except President Thorne. Even thinking about the man made him blush. But of course Emryc would not be there, the President is a very busy person. This thought made him calm down.

When the ship finally landed, Tristodd got up from his seat and began to help the refugees prepare to leave it. They suffered so much and lost everything. He hoped that this moment would the beginning of better lives for them.

@Sreeya

 

[Emryc Thorne]

Bringing refugees over after he personally oversaw the glassing of Firrerre was a twist he would hopefully take to his grave. However, there was no smirk or grin on his face. He was still numb from the aftermath of it and ending things with Morgan. The half Sephi wasn’t an emotional man by nature, and he had the terrible habit of compartmentalizing. This was the toughest thing he had to ever put away, and even the extensive meditation didn’t quite do it. He decided he would take several weeks to pull away from everything after this refugee transport was finished.

The President was waiting when the ship arrived, the ramp lowering. Emryc was adorned in a simple dress shirt that conformed to his muscled torso and jeans, chrono on his left wrist. His hair was styled, but he didn’t present himself as overly formal. His eyes were hidden behind sunglasses, masking the gold streaks that lined the silvers now.

Emryc saw the Firrerreo filing down the ramp, many of them sporting features that reminded him far too much of Morgan. The half Sephi shook their hands and muttered words of support and encouragement as his diplomatic duty. He tilted his head back to see a familiar face, staring in that direction for a few seconds as he took in sight of the attire.

“Mr. Brentioch,” His baritone cut in, though the tone was slightly more hollow than usual, “I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

@LouJoVi

 

[Tristodd Brentioch]

Tristodd was helping a female Firrerreo with two small children carry the luggage that stored what she could save from the pile of burned debris that was once her house. He decided to help her after noticing that she was having difficulty carrying her luggage and her children. The poor woman thanked him and explained that her husband died during the glassing.

While they left the ship, the Brentaalan was talking with the Firrerreo, trying to cheer her and the children. When they arrived at the end of the ramp, Tristodd saw President Thorne welcoming the refugees. He froze for a few minutes, admiring the man in front of him. Emryc was gorgeous as always, with his shirt showing the outline of the muscles and his perfect hair. The young man was only a bit sad for not being able to see Thorne's silver eyes, which are now hidden behind sunglasses.

His moment admiring Emryc was interrupted when the man in question greeted him. Tristodd took a deep breath before answering, he couldn't screw things up this time. "P-President Thorne, it is a pleasure to meet you here." he bowed in respect and thanks to his pants being tight the exercise balls didn't fall out of its pockets, the young man was going to use this type of pants more times now. Very useful to stop a possible embarrassment "B-By the suggestion of my parents, I signed up to help in the ISC Refugee Agency. As my first work as part of the Agency, I was designed to oversee the transport of these refugees." In reality he was forced to sign up, but this wasn’t something to share with the President.

Tristodd also didn't expect to meet Emryc there. He knew that a high-ranking member of the ISC would welcome the refugees, but never thought that the president himself would be there. Knowing that Emryc cared for these people to the point of wanting to meet them in person made the young man admire him even more.

"I-It seems that we are going to work together today, sir." he said smiling to the president, satisfied that his stutter was far less annoying than it was the last time that they met. He turned to give the Firrerreo's luggage that he was still carrying to one of the Agency workers. "I-I was informed that there would be a welcome speech, sir. Is it still going to happen?" he asked Emryc, after all with the President being so busy Tristodd expected that he would not be able to make it.

@Sreeya

 

[Emryc Thorne]

Emryc may have expressed his usual niceties and politeness in senate socials, but he wasn’t there now. This was a refugee operation where there was no time for formalities and frivolous things. The half Sephi drew up a cigarra and placed it between his lips as Tristodd told him his backstory, reaching for a lighter to ignite it. Emryc exhaled a cloud of smoke as he tilted his face away.

“If you’re only here because mommy and daddy told you so, you’re going to get in the way instead of being useful,” The half Sephi glanced down at his chrono before looking up at the man again, “You’re better off making your way back into that transport and going back to the Core. It’s not a nice little resort out here and no one here has time to babysit you.”

Without another word, Emryc spun on his heel and began to walk away with the other refugees. Makeshift camps and shelters had been set up for them and there was a lot of work to do. He was a practical man when he was on the job, and there were a lot of survivors to process. He personally didn’t care for any of it, but it certainly gave the ISC image a massive boost.

The President drew up his commlink, rapidly barking orders and giving directions in between smoking his cigarra. He had all but forgotten about the poor Senator’s aide that admired him so much.

@LouJoVi

 

[Tristodd Brentioch]

What Emryc said shocked Tristodd. Hearing the man that he liked basically say that he was a burden was so painful. It hurt more than any slap of his father, even the ones that used to draw blood. The Brentaalan started to feel his eyes becoming blurred by tears. He ran, wanting to be anywhere but there. While he ran objects levitated briefly, a can on the ground crumpled by itself and a post with a board folded and fell.

Stupid!Worthless!Embarrassment!Burden! His mind repeated in a mix of President Thorne, his and Caledan voices. How could I have an embarrassment like you as my son? This was his father’s voice. Tears kept flowing from his eyes, while he ran aimlessly. You are so worthless. Why don't you disappear? This was his voice.

Tristodd only stopped when he tripped and nearly fell on the floor. Looking around the young man noticed that while running he entered the spaceport and was now on a balcony near a cliff. Still crying, the Brentaalan approached the grid. If his parents knew about what happened, they would be furious. He could already feel another slap coming and it would probably be stronger.

His thoughts continued to massacre what little self-esteem he had. Tristodd felt so alone, so lost. He wanted the old Reegian, the one who would hug him and tell that he was special. He wanted his uncle Claudias, who would make silly jokes to cheer him up. No, I'll just mess up their lives. They are better without me. The young man looked to the cliff below the balcony and a thought passed briefly in his mind. If I die there, would someone care? Without him noticing a trash can flew from the balcony into the cliff.

After some time, Tristodd finally calmed himself. His self-deprecating thoughts disappeared for now, being replaced with resolve. He would show President Thorne that he isn’t a burden. He would help and comfort these refugees that suffered so much. With that in his mind, the Brentaalan walked to where the ISCRA made a temporary office.

@Sreeya

 

[Emryc Thorne]

Emryc was focused on his work, putting aside his comlink finally. He had a speech to deliver later, and he was speaking with one of his aides. He was handed a datapad with information as he walked, scrolling through it rapidly before signing off on it and handing it back.

“Are we nearing capacity?”

“Yes sir, but we’ve rerouted some of them to Bestine and Gyndine.”

“How are we doing on food supplies?”

“We will be covered, Mr. President.”

Emryc simply nodded before he kept walking, arriving at the next facility. This one was equipped with a medical wing as well. Being on Thyferra meant that anyone that was injured was rapidly treated. Bacta supply had been ramped up to prioritize delivery to Firrerre. Through it all, Emryc was entirely on autopilot. He had a very methodical and calculated way of operating and emotions never interfered. The severe pains he felt from what happened and his fall out with Morgan were compartmentalized. Even then, it was difficult to push it all down, some of it surfacing in the form of him having a slight edge to him.

The half Sephi was in the middle of handing out some informational brochures when he saw that aide from earlier again. He looked as if he had been crying, but he strode into the facility nonetheless. Emryc eyed him for a moment, smoke pluming out of his nostrils from his second cigarra. This time, the sunglasses were off and the piercing silvers were visible. If anyone looked closely, they would notice the flecks of yellow in them. Emryc towered over the other man, and he stood close enough for the aide to pick up on his familiar earthy cologne.

“Still here?” His baritone voice cut in flatly. Emryc grabbed a datapad and handed it to Tristodd, “Match up survivors with their families and cross check against a casualty report,” If the man was going to hang around, he was going to be doing some work. Emryc was silent for a few moments before he looked up from what he was doing.

“Aren’t you Lassiter’s aide?” He asked after a moment, “She’s not here?”

@LouJoVi

 

[Tristodd Brentioch]

Before he went to where the ISCRA was operating, Tristodd stopped at a bathroom to wash his face. His eyes were still puffy and red from crying. This will be difficult to explain. However, he would not allow it to stop him from helping the refugees.

When he arrived at the ISCRA facility, Tristodd looked around in search of something to do. He stopped when he felt the familiar smell of President Thorne's cologne. The aide turned after he heard Emryc talking to him.

"Yes, sir." Tristodd said, looking at the man with a neutral face, devoid of his usual cheerfulness. The Brentaalan didn't want to annoy the other man again. He was going to start working when he heard the President question about Sibyl. He wanted to snort, the Brentaalan Senator would never be in a place like that.

"She is in her mansion in Brentaal. In this type of situation, Senator Lassiter prefers to offer monetary aid." she is probably in some hedonistic moment, where she would be complaining with her droid about him. Tristodd can be naïve for some things, but he knew that the Senator disliked him. After some time working with her, the young man could easily identify her forced smiles and condescension when talking with him. "She has me to work directly with the people. Everything that I do will end reflecting in her image, good or bad. So with me working there, Sibyl can say that she is also helping by allowing her aide to participate in the Refugee Agency." he explained to the half-Selphi, a bit of resentment and disgust in his voice. He hated to work with someone like Sibyl, but it was a necessary evil if he wanted to have a political career. When his time came, Tristodd would use his position to stop people like Senator Lassiter.

While Tristodd worked, he remembered something "President, when I was in the Legislative Youth Program I learned about a program that the Brentaalan government uses to deal with a humanitarian crisis. It works as a unified database that has three sections named as "alive, missing and dead". When someone inserts the full name of a person, the program will show in what section they are. It also allows to put some observations such as where the person is, if they are hurt and name of relatives." he made a pause and looked at Emryc, finally noticing that the president wasn't with sunglasses anymore. Tristodd remained with his neutral expression, even when he thought how attractive the eyes of the other man were. "Does the ISCRA have something like that? If not, I was allowed by the government to bring a copy of the program to help with the refugees. This can facilitate when needing to give information for relatives and to the media."

@Sreeya

 

[Emryc Thorne]

Emryc quietly smoked his cigarra and shuffled through some papers as the aide spoke. For a moment it would appear as if the half Sephi weren’t even listening. This was a trait of his anyone that knew him quickly picked up on and adapted to. Emryc wasn’t exactly the chatty type, and he certainly didn’t stare at others while they spoke. He organized the stack of papers and handed it to someone that was passing by. It was entertaining how naive the man was as he was rattling off about his Senator. Thankfully, Emryc’s face betrayed nothing, his expression always a calm neutral.

“Well at least Lassiter is more cozy right now than we are,” The half Sephi remarked as he finally put out his finished cigarra. It was obvious that Emryc wasn't the gossiping type and Tristodd would notice that the half Sephi didn't jump at the opportunity to disparage Lassiter or the New Republic. He moved onto a datapad, scrolling through the data to look over more items. When Tristodd began to speak again, Emryc’s silver gaze flicked up at last, the topic about the database one he found interesting.

“We have one in the works but can certainly use some help there,” His tone was less frosty than before and Tristodd finally had his attention, “The main area of concern is security hardening. We need to ensure that no one can easily slice into the program and that the personal information is protected. This is a lot of sensitive data we don’t want getting out.”

Emryc watched the other man for a moment, his gaze flicking down and then back up as he took in sight of him. A single brow quirked slightly, “Interesting choice of attire for hard labor and unglamorous work…”

@LouJoVi

 

[Tristodd Brentioch]

Tristodd noticed that Emryc was ignoring him most of the time. How rude! At least Sibyl fakes interest when I talk. The young man was starting to think how difficult was to work with the half-Selphi. The man was far different from what he imagined. At least the President seemed interested in the program.

"The program already have some defenses against slicing, but we can submit it to an expert so they can make more. I also suggest the use of more complex encrypting of these informations and the password should only be know by some members of the ISCRA." he said, this time looking at the datapad in his hand. There was some many refugees.

Tristodd continued thinking what they should do to stop slicing when he heard President Thorne comment about his clothes. The Brentaalan face became red, but he continued to look at his datapad. "Well I feel comfortable in them, even when doing hard labor. " The body is mine and I use what I want! He wanted to say that. The young man was starting to feel annoyed. He thought that Emryc Thorne was a jerk. He had a crush in a handsome jerk. What I did to deserve that?

"President, is there any expert that I can give the program to? Better start making it work as fast as possible." He said wanting to focus in the work, rather in the growing desire of calling Emryc a jerk. He pulled from his pocket a small device, where the copy of the program was stored.

@Sreeya