rex populi
Alderaan
Refugee Inflow Encampment
- Auteme - Regnar Sodun - Theus Eldoris - Lila Doneeta - Balthus Larr - Sonya Provost - Kel Se'Taav - Ruto Tane -
Thousands of stark-white tents, some large enough to house a circus, others barely able to fit one person lying down, had been lined up in neat rows, arrayed across an expansion of alpine grassland. As far as the eye could see in every direction, from the circular center of the camp, was regimented white canvas, muted green prairie, and shockingly blue sky, disrupted by the inevitable chaos of people.
There seemed to be little rhyme and reason to the refugees, having come from every corner of the galaxy. Half of them wore some form of the black and gold signets of the Ashlans, dirtied by travel and hardship. Many had ripped clothing, burns, war-wounds wrapped by cloth and bacta, decorating their bodies, proving the harrowing path they'd taken to get there. Others didn't, their only blemish being the fear in their eyes.
Thankfully, if there was one thing Alderaan did well, it was relief. The workers in the encampment, medics and managers and bowl-helmed guards, moved with clockwork precision, each knowing their duty, and giving structure to those who had lost all of theirs in such a short time. Transports landed and embarked at a steady pace, dropping off new temporary inhabitants, and ferrying others to more permanent residences. The crowds of those arriving, however, dwarfed those able to leave. So the camp kept inflating.
It was one of many inflow encampments across the Alliance. Each faced a similar issue.
In the beating heart of the camp, amidst the action and a brisk walk away from a dedicated landing strip, a darkly-dressed Alicio checked his datapads one last time, putting the one in his hand down on a long table to join the other two. The piece of furniture, along with a smattering of chairs, had been brought into a spacious tent, secured by Alderaanian soldiers and the Senate Guard. The sounds of the camp leaked into the space, though they didn't distract the Senator of Alderaan from his final preparations. He'd been looking forward to conversing with Natasi Fortan , but previous correspondence had made it clear she had been rather busy. That would be a conversation Senator Organa would table, until the time was right.
Sure, there might have been questions from the other senators about the locale. But the newly appointed Chairman of the Senate Select Committee for Refugees was certain of his choice. They weren't just debating numbers and statistics. To make decisions for the people, to hold the refugees' lives in their hands, the committee needed to know them. They needed to look them in the eye.
They needed to see.
So Alicio waited, counting the minutes until the meeting was slated to begin. Committee members were free to bring assistance to the camp, be it supplies or credits or transportation, but the most important work would begin here.
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