Private Blood and Fire

[Jaina Grayson]

Aron Brood

DXUN
​

"Dxun Command to Shuura, do you read me?"

"Copy that, Dxun," the pilot replied. The purple-skinned Twi'lek sat in the cockpit of the Shuura, a supply convoy carrying food, medicine, and other relief, currently in orbit around Dxun, a moon of Onderon. "Requesting landing permissions."

"What is your destination?"

"Refugee Camp Thesh," she replied.

There was an unusually long period of silence from the other end. "Apologies, Shuura. You will be going to Refugee Camp Resh.”

The pilot frowned, even glancing at the transcript of the conversation just to confirm she hadn't misheard them. “I don't understand. Was there some mistake?"

"Negative. Camp Resh is ready to receive you."

"But Camp Thesh is in desperate need of supplies," she pressed. "We were told the situation was critical."

Another lengthy pause. "It appears your information is out of date. There is no Camp Thesh. These orders come straight from the Commander."

She stared incredulously at the display, then pursed her lips into a thin line. "Acknowledged, Dxun," she said, before closing the channel. In the same motion of her deft fingers, she switched on the ship's intercom... then hesitated, the faint sound of static echoing through the Shuura's corridors. What would happen when she delivered the news to the rest of the relief workers? Would there be an uproar? A few grumblings? Would they take it at face value and just follow orders?

"Attention all personnel, this is your pilot speaking," she began. "There's been a change of plans. We've been ordered to divert course to a different refugee camp..."

 

[Aron Brood]

As the Shuura parked in Dxun's orbit, waiting for the go-ahead, Aron leaned on a galley counter, pulling sips from his caf bulb. His first, and likely last, reprieve during this mission. And of course he was wasting it.

Weeks had passed and Master Trangsin hadn't reached out. That was odd, but so be it. His former master was a coward. Always had been. Aron saw that now. The man mistook propriety for virtue, unwilling or unable to kill the noble in his head. He had recused himself from action, preferring to sit and watch as Hapes burned. His own damn homeworld.

The intercom buzzed to life, yanking Aron out of his thoughts. Static echoed for a little too long before the pilot finally spoke.

"Attention all personnel, this is your pilot speaking," she began. "There's been a change of plans. We've been ordered to divert course to a different refugee camp..."

Ominous. Maybe it was nothing, but Aron had a bad feeling in his gut. A few of the crew members grumbled, out of confusion mostly, but others were unphased. The work was the same no matter which refugee camp they were assigned to.

Tossing his empty caf bulb into the recycler, Aron made his way to the cockpit with long strides. He stopped at the entrance.

Dxun, visible from the viewport, grabbed Aron's attention immediately. It looked like a space giant had dunked the planet in the largest bucket of dark green paint, splashed a few thick globs of pear, pine, and sage, then swirled it all around and called it a day. It was breathtaking.

Aron remembered why he was here and his gaze shifted to the pilot. "What's going on?" he asked. "Why the sudden change?"

Jaina Grayson

 

[Jaina Grayson]

No sooner had she finished her announcement, someone came barging into the cockpit. She turned her chair around, coming face to face with the resident Jedi. These days there was always at least one Knight on any given relief ship, especially one like the Shuura, which was technically flying under the Foundation's banner. The pilot didn't even know this one's name, but of all the crew he was probably the one most likely to object to their new orders.

He was also the one most likely to be able to defy the odds and do something about it.

"What's going on? Why the sudden change?"

"I don't know, sir," she replied. "Dxun Command issued the order. They didn't give an explanation, just said our original orders were outdated... and that Camp Thesh doesn't exist."

Whether it had been destroyed or its existence was being kept hidden from them, she didn't know for sure. All she knew was that it was more than a little suspicious.

"Since they won't give us coordinates, we have no way of knowing where Camp Thesh is... or was." She flicked a switch on the control panel. "Normal protocol would be to contact our HQ. But it could take a while for backup to arrive." Time that the refugees struggling to survive without supplies might not have.

Aron Brood​

 

[Aron Brood]

The pilot said sir. The honorific made him recoil, which might've been the anarchist in him. "Just call me Aron," he cut in.

"Doesn't exist..." he repeated, processing the implication. Communication could be spotty in large scale operations like this. Lots of moving parts. But refugee camps didn't just up and disappear. Not that quickly, anyway. He crossed his arms across his chest. "What do you make of this, Miss...?"

Aron had an idea of the correct course of action, but wanted to hear from the purple lady first. Maybe she'd experienced something like this before. She was technically Foundation approved, which made him eager to respect her opinion.

Jaina Grayson​

 

[Jaina Grayson]

"What do you make of this, Miss...?"

"Just call me Jaina." She shrugged her shoulders. "Frankly, this whole thing smells fishy to me. Refugee camps don't just cease to exist overnight. They're hiding something, and I doubt it's anything good."

Perhaps she should've been surprised that a Jedi was asking for her opinion. But her master used to do the same thing. The professor practically treated her like a walking encyclopedia at times...

"We ought to go check it out ourselves," she said, a twinkle in her cat-like eyes. "I don't suppose you can use your Jedi powers to sense where the camp is?"

Aron Brood​

 

[Aron Brood]

Jaina corroborated his concerns. Aron clenched his jaw. "I agree. Something's not right here."

Glancing her up and down, Aron smirked when he caught the twinkle in her feline eyes. Jaina was willing to jump into the fray. Of course, she wouldn't be here if she wasn't. "You've worked with Jedi before?" he asked, raising a brow. "But yes, I can do that."

Aron continued, arms still crossed.

"I propose we contact HQ. Call in backup, tell them to bring additional supplies. But we won't wait around. We'll comply with Dxun Command, follow their coordinates to Camp Thesh. Not sure how good Dxun planetary defenses are, but I don't want to get blown up in restricted airspace and I don't want to immediately arouse their suspicions. Once we touch down, you and I will investigate while the crew offloads. Sound like a plan?"

Jaina Grayson​

 

[Jaina Grayson]

He agreed that something was amiss. At his question, she waved a hand vaguely. "Lots of Jedi in my line of work."

His plan was a sound one. She would've preferred a more direct, bombastic approach, but she had to agree that it was for the best. The rest of the crew shouldn't be put in harm's way. "Aye," she agreed. "Buckle your seatbelt."

---

Camp Resh was one of several settlements hastily constructed to house refugees from the nearby Hapes Cluster. The so-called Hapes Crisis—really a civil war between the Queen Mother's Consortium and the anti-matriarchy insurgent group known as the Crimson Veil—had exploded into violence within the past month or so. Millions of civilians across dozens of worlds were displaced, fleeing the Cluster and forced to find shelter elsewhere.

The Shuura's arrival at the camp went without incident. As soon as they landed, the crew of relief workers, most of them from the Foundation, began offloading supplies. Jaina joined in the labor, carrying a crate of food from the landing pad to a warehouse on the edge of the camp.

No sooner had she entered the building, she saw piles of supplies in storage. She ran a few quick calculations, frowning at the results. There was already enough rations to feed the camp's entire population for the next two years. They didn't need this extra shipment.

To avoid suspicion, she dropped off the crate she had been carrying and left the warehouse, instead heading for the medic. There were a handful of sick and injured people being tended to by medical droids, but several of the clean white cots sat empty. They weren't hurting for medicine either.

She emerged back into the late morning light, her expression solemn. So far everything she'd seen had only confirmed her suspicions that something underhanded was afoot. Activating her comlink, she spoke quietly into her earpiece: "Aron, it's Jaina. This is the most pristine looking refugee camp I've ever seen. Warehouse is overstocked and barely any bodies in medical..."

Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a little girl standing off to the side. Having probably never seen a Twi'lek before, the girl was staring at her from afar while licking an ice cream cone. It was a cute image, like something straight out of an advertisement. She looked more like she was on vacation than struggling to survive.

Jaina wondered if there was a little girl like her at the other camp, the one Dxun Command claimed didn't exist. That little girl probably wasn't eating ice cream right now.

Aron Brood​