Dominion Kuat a Relief! | Alliance Dominion of Kuat

[Spirit of Hope]

Location: Scouring the Drive Yards
Objective: Provide Relief
Tags: Open​

Upon arrival, Captain Climshedis's mouth fell agape, and his eyes nearly popped out of his skull. The mess hall had devolved into absolute chaos, with bodies pressing forward for food without thought for one another. The sick and injured were tossed aside for those able-bodied few at the front of the pack. His men struggled to meet the continued demands of the natives, spooning ladlefuls worth of soup into each outstretched bowl shoved into their faces. While most of the precious foodstuffs made it into the bowl, some unfortunately spilled away into the dirt below. Climshedis winced as the loss of such a valuable resource during the Alliance's battle against starvation.

"Everyone, listen up!" the Captain's voice echoed throughout the mess hall, catching the attention of those gathered together. "If we are to overcome what has happened to your people, we must work together. The anarchy that has befallen us is only the beginning if we are unable to prioritize those who most need our help," he moved through the crowd as it parted around him before stepping into the lead position behind the large pot of soup. He rolled his sleeves back before taking an apron from the wall to tie it around his waist. He then slipped a pair of gloves over his hands before looking to the three other soldiers behind the counter with him.

"I will take point and serve the soup directly. Marr, you'll hand out the tray, bowl, and utensils necessary. Virec, you'll fill their cups and ensure each plate receives a slice of freshly toasted and buttered bread," Climshedis pivoted on his heel, pointing his ladle at the last of the quartet. "Burss, this pot won't feed the people of Kuat. I'll need you to have more prepared and ready to serve as we run low," his stalwart gaze drifted over each of them in turn. "Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, sir!" the trio of younger soldiers saluted their superior before falling into their positions at his side. Captain Climshedis turned his attention to sea of people waiting for their meal.

"Form a line starting at Marr. Children upfront, followed by the rest of you. You'll each receive a single serving unless you are collecting food for the sick or wounded. This is an honor-based system, people. If we find out you are taking extra portions for yourselves, you will not be allowed to return to this mess hall."

 

[Darth Assimilus]

Location: Quarantine Zone> Entering Hallways
Allies/Enemies: Dak Loske Treicolt Avo
Objective: Save them. Save myself.

This was a change. For over a millennia the Gen'dai known as Kezeroth had always been the hunter. Now he was the prey. Time had always been a strange concept to his race but even still he could not remember how long he had spent within the quarantine zone of Kuat drive yards. It had at least been a months, how many eluded him. There were more concerning matters at hand than the substance of time.

His beskar'gam was heavily damaged. Scarred by frequent battles. Armor plating had been torn off completely in some areas. heavy claw marks and blunt impacts riddled its form and thus forth his own body. A indention on the side of his helmet was present. There were few creatures in the galaxy that could leave such a mark on armor forged through Kezeroths own making.

The wounds inflicted on him were by his own though.

" Gaah.." he exhaled the phrase in a low whisper remaining still within a storage room in the hallway. His memory going over what had happened in the so recently past. The ship crashing into Kuats ring, the loss of so many of his own and the infection he had unleashed all too soon. Even now he could feel it inside. Its remanents halted by his mind and sheer will power to keep his own infection at bay.

It worked. For now.

Inoculation. The serum was on his ship. The key to not only over coming his curse but control it. The only issue was, He was not the only thing aboard and stuck in the quarantine zone.

" Their still around." He said to himself feeling the environment with his own body. sensory acuity that only a Gen'dai. Even not he could feel new bodies in the area moving about. They were living? Gritting his teeth Kezeroth stood to his feet and gripped his lightpike hilt in hand. He needed a way to his ship and he could not do it alone in his current condition.

The metal door creaked open and the battle worn figure of the giant loomed into the dimly light red halls toward the source of all this internal noise. If he could feel and sense them...Then his infected crew could too.

 

[Loske Treicolt]

Kuat // Drive Yards // Quarantine Zone // Crash site
Darth Assimilus // Dak // Avo ​

This whole place felt unnatural. Affected by a stretching illness that nobody could see -- and with The Padawan's senses still somewhat unrefined, it was difficult to pinpoint what might be more material than others. The flare of indistinguishable origin in the distance caused a tremour to ripple through The Force. She turned her mic back on to join the conversation. Everyone fell to the perimeter, and her hand reflexively hovered above the holster of her hilt; fingers twitching while she focused on expanding her area of focus. "I don't see.." she started, in response to Dak 's question before she stepped forward. Something hummed - she couldn't quite put her finger on it.

Walking through the safety of the soldier's perimeters, she knotted her brows in concentration. The Force raced back and forth between her and the surroundings, collecting and gathering information that was useful and decidedly discarding things that were irrelevant. Loske never received feedback on those The Force deemed unnecessary to the present focus. It was like it knew.

It was a few moments before the blonde turned back around to face the men, her face highlighted by the spotlight of their flashlights and still indistinguishable beneath the helmet. She bore no telling expression, though her eyes were slightly wider than they had been when they'd first set out.

"There's still something alive in there." How? It had been months since the original crash and the spread of the viral pestilence. She'd expected to drop down here and cut through rotting flesh, not detect something that still had warm blood pumping through its veins. Over the sound of her own breathing, her senses sharpened, suggesting she was going to have to act soon. She started to duck into the first passageway, the soldiers broke their formation and followed suite.

Meanwhile, the girl's palms extended; getting a sense of the toxic atmosphere. It was unnatural comparative to the typical breathability they were all used to. If she could isolate it enough, she might be able to cleanse the air through concentrated manipulation. But with the threat that she detected only a few chambers away, she was pessimistic about the chance she'd get to truly mitigate the airborne virus.

"We should set charges on this ship; destroy it and what's inside. Master Graendal, you and I could create a Force bubble around to contain the implosion so it doesn't expand to more of the drive yards, and then suffocate it down. If we can contain it enough, I might be able to change the nature of it to something less lethal."

 

[Spirit of Hope]

Location: Scouring the Drive Yards
Objective: Provide Relief
Tags: Open

​

Within an hour, the makeshift soup kitchen turned from a den of chaos to something akin to a proper restaurant. The trio working beside Captain Climshedis worked in harmony, dishing out food to each person in a timely fashion. When the captain arrived, a line escaped the building and ran several dozen feet down the way. Now? The line barely passed the entrance. People still came forward seeking food, so it wouldn't outright die away, but the chaos no longer threatened to overwhelm his men. He set the ladle down and took a step away from the stew, looking to the three others with pride.

"Good work, men. I must depart, as there is much to do here in the drive yard. If you require help, do not be afraid to reach out to someone else. Impart what I have taught you onto others."

"Yes sir!" they said in unison, hands shooting up to salute their officer.

"Outstanding, men," Captain Climshedis returned the salute and departed the tent. His eyes scanned the rows created by the dozens of temporary structures erected within the drive yard. The sound of a growing dispute caught his attention further away. Climshedis's battle-hardened gaze focused on the two arguing civilians and hurried over. As he approached, the captain listened for the topic at hand. One, a rhodian female, claimed the other, a male pantoran, had stolen medical supplies for his personal use. While Climshedis could not see anything in out of place on the larger of the duo, he kept an open mind.

"Is there a problem here?" Captain Climshedis asked, keeping a thoughtful expression upon his scarred visage.

"<Yes! This thief stole antibiotics and is hoarding them!>" the rhodian responded in her native tongue. "<My husband needs them to help fight off an infection caused by the unsafe work environment! Why is it near-humans are receiving special treatment!>"

A small crowd had begun to gather, listening to the dispute. Many of the aliens nodded along empathetically. Some even spoke up, agreeing with her sentiments. The pantoran opened his mouth to speak, but Climshedis silenced him with a raised hand.

"While I cannot say for sure whether he has stolen from our tents, I can ensure your husband requires what he needs. Come with me; we shall collect some from our soldier's supplies," Climshedis ushered her along with him before waving over a lone soldier marching nearby. "Soldier."

"Yes, Captain!" he answered, jumping to attention immediately.

"See that the pantoran gentleman returns to his tent safely. Do a thorough sweep as well. There are allegations made against them claiming he is stealing medicine."

"Yes, sir!"

And with that, Captain Climshedis guided the rhodian woman away from the crowd as it dispersed. The trip was short, arriving to the sickly man a few minutes after leaving. He watched her portion the antibiotics and ensured her stricken partner swallowed them before excusing himself from the scene. So much had to be done and Climshedis could already feel himself missing his cot.