Swords Into Plowshares, And Back Again [Open to All]

[Margaret the Grey]

OOC Note: The following thread is open to all. The goal is to assist in the reconstruction of a village badly damaged in a clash between two opposing armies. Exactly where it takes place or which armies were involved is irrelevant. If you wish to help with the reconstruction, for whatever reason, you are welcome. If you wish to hinder the reconstruction, you are again welcome.

The goal is to get characters who wouldn't ordinarily work together to find common cause, regardless of motive, affiliation or ideology. With a little luck, you'll push yourself outside of your comfort zone. So feel free to come out, meet new people, and learn a thing or two about your characters that maybe you didn't know before.

PLANET: [REDACTED]
DATE: [REDACTED]

Hot.

It was very, very hot. Margaret didn't have a clue exactly how hot it was, but she knew it was way hotter than she was comfortable with. Sweat ran in rivulets down her face and neck, staining the collar of her shirt. It stung her eyes, made her palms slick. She was pretty sure if she took her boots off, she could fill medium sized puddle just by wringing out her socks. She was pretty sure she stank abominably, but then again, so did everyone else.

The good news was, it looked like the afternoon thunderstorms were on their way. This time of year, the plains were regularly scoured by storms of occasionally frightening strength, but if she knew her clouds (and she hadn't been wrong in years), this was going to be a soaker, but not a blower.

The bad news was, if they didn't get this roof on, the inside of the house they were working on would be soaked.

It was tempting to use the Force to lower her core temperature by a few degrees, but Margaret resisted. The Force was a wonderful tool, but there was something honest about doing labor the old fashioned way. Besides, they were nearly finished. Once they got the roof on, they could wait out the thunderstorm, then go swimming in the nearby creek.

THUD!

THUD!

THUD!

Every swing of her hammer drove a nail flush with the shingle. Despite her age and size, years of experience allowed Margaret to keep up with the young men who were busy affixing the shaped tar and fiberglass shingles to the roof. This wasn't her first time swinging a hammer, not by a long shot. She had the thick callouses and forearms of a lifelong construction worker. She didn't even bother with gloves anymore; her palms were so leathery, a glove would have been redundant.

The last shingles went on just as the first drops of rain started to fall.

"Alright gents, that's a wrap!" she hollered. Her voice was deep for a woman, and surprisingly gravelly. Her harsh contralto was the result of years of hard living rather than genetics. In her younger days, she had a surprisingly pleasant singing voice. That was before she'd taken up chainsmoking.

Speaking of cigarettes, she could really do with one right about now. The men on the roof made towards the ladders, but she didn't bother. She just walked over to the side of the one story house and leaped right off the angled roof. She soaked up the impact with her knees, wincing internally as they screamed in protest.

The rain would begin in earnest within the next minute or so. Margaret decided she'd rather not get caught out in it, so she called upon the Force to give her a boost of speed and sprinted back to the dining hall that formed the literal and metaphorical center of the village. It was there that they took their thrice weekly communal dinners, and it was there that guests like her bedded down for the night.

She dashed inside, pausing just long enough to splash water on her face to rinse some of the dirt and salt off, then fetched a pack of smokes from her bag and went back outside. The village elders had been polite, but firmly insistent that there was to be no smoking inside the dining hall. Fortunately, she wasn't the only person in the village that had the habit, so there was a partially enclosed patio out back where she could light up in peace.

It was this planet's reputation for fine tobacco that had drawn her to it. The southern hemisphere was nearing harvest time, and she was more than willing to lend a hand in exchange for some of the product. What she hadn't expected to find was that the country where the growing was best had been the site of a short, vicious war that had left villages like this in ruins for miles around.

The aging Jedi had long ago learned to trust her instincts when it came to stuff like this. The Force had a funny way of nudging her to where she could best utilize her talents. It wasn't anything conscious on her part. She just had a hankering for good tobacco, found a place that was about to need field hands, and away she went. And it just so happened, this place needed help with more than picking leaves.

For about the millionth time, she marveled at the path her life had taken as she extracted a cigarette from a pack and screwed it between her lips. One of the villagers, a widower whose wife had died a few years back, lit it for her. Truthfully, she thought the old man had taken a shine to her. The thing was, she was a Jedi. That didn't make her celibate, but she was unwilling to get tied down to any one spot. He was looking for a companion. She was looking for her lighter. Besides, once she started to pick up on the local lingo, he'd learn just how much of an abrasive ass she was, and the old man would move on.

Come to think of it, he wasn't really that old, just a few years more than herself, and if he was old, she wasn't far behind. Margaret wasn't exactly vain, but she wasn't ready to cop to that just yet. She thanked the man, then sat down in her usual spot.

The rain was pouring in earnest now, and the racket it made on the tin roof of the patio was deafening. This was good. Most of the younger villagers spoke Basic, and they felt inclined to make conversation with the stranger who was helping to rebuild their lives. At least now, it was too loud for them to try.

Smoke curled out of her nostrils as Margaret leaned back against one of the posts that supported the roof and let the cool air and the nicotine wash over her. A few more days here, and it would be time to move on.

Just a few more days.

 

[Chekīta Kaie]

Helping people out after some disaster was not really her thing spending more time killing and causing destruction then helping. Though despite this the slightly nut job woman had a soft spot for cute kids, and this village had been fair share of them, even after the constant wars and natural destruction that this little place was subjected to, the children of the village where still in high spirits. Most of the work she had been doing today was just regular manual labour, carrying tools, material, and other construction items here and there, never being one to be good with repairs, unless it had to do with a weapon.

Though out the entire working day she was constantly shadowed by the youngsters of the small civilized place, her constant lazy smile for some reasoning being a calming image, though most people usually found if creepy, as did quite a few of the adults here. Fortunately, their concerns where proved null by the constant happiness of the little rascals, apparently it had been a while since they had this sort of fun, and Chekitas stories that she told while wandering around with them proved to be entertaining.

"Miss Kaie, why do they call you kill joy, isn't that a bad thing, like you stop the fun"?

"Please call me Chekia, no need for formalities my little nishka, as for my name, it because I have so much fun with my job, but we will leave it there for now, don't want your parents to get madder at me, for filling their children head with out of this world tails".

"Aww but it sounds so interest-"

*Drip* *Drop* "Oh would look at that's, it’s raining now, and looks to be a large on, you all better run home to your mummy now, best not get wet".

The children gave some pouts and sighs, but ultimately confined that it would be better to get under cover the be stuck in the community centre all day, 'kids these days, ask so many questions'. She gave a light chuckle before heading towards the community centre, as sudden swoosh passing by of some cloaked figure, 'ahh, there goes the friendly neighbourhood Jedi'. By the time she had reached the centre rain was starting to pour down, though thankfully she wasn't soaked too much, her body armour being water proof to some extent.

'Time to take a load off, now, where’s that patio place I've heard about'? Chetika walked out to the small enclosed area as the rain bucketed down, taking a cigar out her ammo pouch, giving it a quick light before taking a draft, "Hey there, I didn’t know Jedi smoked, isn't that against your code or something"?

[member="Margaret the Grey"]

 

[Zerrak Windwalker]

as silence handed out food and water and working on houses he thought of why he was doing this but shrugged it off

 

[Margaret the Grey]

"Hey there, I didn’t know Jedi smoked, isn't that against your code or something"?

"The last I checked, the code said nothing about cigarettes," Margaret replied with a wry grin. "Honestly, if more Jedi took up smoking, there wouldn't be half as many Sith running around."

Though her tone was light, there was a certain bitterness lurking behind her eyes. The Jedi sighed heavily, then pulled another cigarette from her pack and lit it off the cherry of the first one. She stared out into the pouring rain for a moment, then turned back towards the newcomer.

"So what brings you out this way?"

[member="Chekīta Kaie"]

 

[Chekīta Kaie]

She gave a slight shrug at the woman words, "eh I never really looked at what you force users follow or what ever, but I don;t think smoking would stop the Sith from being a thing, sure stress is a part of it, but ain't most Sith just in for the power, control and an excuse to slaughter without reason"? From what she had seen of the Sith, and heard, that's all they seemed to be about, why else would they genocide planet after planet in their path, but continue to spout some stupid message about peace and prosperity.

Chekeia took another drag from her cigar, enjoying the more, last longing feel then death or cigarettes, "Whats brings he here, work I guess, but I am just a sucker for cute kids too, I seem to have some sort of natural ability to make them smile, not sure why, if half the people here knew what I did for a living, I'd be ran out of town ages ago... Why are you here, though I can understand a Jedi, why one... mature as you, and a chain smoker at that"?

[member="Margaret the Grey"]

 

[Margaret the Grey]

Margaret gestured out towards the distant fields. It was hard to see them through the downpour, but they were there.

"I came here to help with the harvest. I always liked getting my hands dirty, and if I can get a couple of kilos of tobacco out of the deal, so much the better. I didn't know there'd been a war, but the Force has a way of using my foibles to lead me where it needs me.

It wasn't the first time a random whim had placed her exactly where she needed to be. By now, whenever Margaret got the itch to travel, she just rolled with it. More often than not, that little itch was the Force subtly guiding her to the place she could help the most. It was a haphazard way of getting around, but it always seemed to work out in the end.

"That was a joke, by the way, the thing about smoking. But when you get down to it, a lot of Jedi turn Sith because they feel stifled. They turn to the Dark Side looking for freedom, and they don't realize they've just swapped one sort of slavery for another until it's far too late."

[member="Chekīta Kaie"]

 

[Zerrak Windwalker]

As silence Was passing out food he saw the jedi and slowly reached for his blaster then stopped when he realized shes helping an shook here head before continuing

[member="Margaret the Grey"]

 

[Chekīta Kaie]

Her eyes scanned the field in the distant, a bit hard to see with the pouring rain, but the plantation was still noticeable, "So the basically over pay you in smokes to help rebuild the place, I don't know whether to laugh or congratulate you on such a successful business deal, I'm sure a lot of that stuff would be worth a good sum of money, unless you smoke it all that is". Chetika took another drag on her cigar as the rain continued to fall outside, as the Jedi went along talking about the Sith.

"Yer, doesn't the Sith code talk about breaking chains or bond using passion and power? from what I see those that are Sith just become corrupted by the very power they use, if their not bitches to their masters, doing what ever the kark their told no questions asked... so yer, they do seem to just change masters, from a kind loving one that might be a bit slow on the pay role, to one that hands out the cash willy nilly, but then beats the crap out of them... not saying the Jedi are slavers and all, just trying to come up with an analogy".

"What about those Ren, whats the deal with them, are they Sith that just don't want to be called that, even though they worship some old Sith Lord or what not? seem to be more like occult witches, but more force orientated then magic". She took another drag from her cigar, spying of all things a First Order storm trooper walking pass in the middle of the rain, who she promptly flipped off with a middle finger.

[member="Silence"] l [member="Margaret the Grey"]

 

[Zerrak Windwalker]

Silence sees the woman flip him off but just nods in reply used to seeing these things before handing her some water

@ Chekīta Kaie