Location: Kuat City Center [Conference Room]
Accompanying: [member="Chekīta Awaud"] | [member="Sankt Yora"] | [member="Aryn Teth"]..And possibly others?
Allies: CIS + Allies, etc
Her holo-comm was going off every few seconds with real-time updates. Srina had shared a few words with her people, minimal, as she wished them to be safe and successful. She could hear assurances passing through general broadcasting. The Confederacy had work to do, however, they did not seek to inconvenience the people of Kuat. They would be paid and supported for their time and patience so long as the investigative procedure was allowed to be conducted unhindered. The Republic was...
Very strange. It was different than the Galactic Alliance. They seemed almost humble, small, but they spanned across a good portion of mid-Core. Did they not have the resources to see to the ring?
Kuat was part of the New Republic. Yet, it was not. The Republic controlled this sphere, they fettered supplies and whatnot through a heavily controlled Distribution Center, but,
somehow the planet was still autonomous? There were so many inconsistencies that Srina did not know what to think.
All she knew for certain was that Kuat was still in shambles. It was scarred; beaten—and for some reason had been relatively left to squalor. They were given bandages to slow the hemorrhaging of their way of life, however, the wound required more. Surgery. Healing. Restoring the orbital shipyard was the only way to ensure that the planet and its people had a future. Passing out aid helped. It kept the people alive. But, was it enough?
No.
Silver eyes flickered. The Core had been devastated. Yet, Coruscant was already the shining pearl it had once been. Without the benefits of a mothering nation. Kuat? Kuat was entrenched in Republic space and could barely stand to defend and or feed itself.
Something was amiss.
“Understood, Kainan. Be mindful. We have brought more than enough raw materials but work on the shipyard itself is complicated and dangerous. You should not overtax yourself. ”, she spoke to [member="Darth Tacitus"], recently resurrected, and insisting that he aid in this effort. Srina worried for him. He had made certain feelings known for her person but the white-haired woman had not been given the chance to respond one way or the other. In the same heartbeat, he had seen fit to die.
“Keep us updated.”
She could feel [member="Aryn Teth"] following along behind her and his unspoken words quieted her mind fiercely. He always knew what to say. Even when her thoughts trailed along the line of oblivion, somehow, he pulled her back. His fingers found her own and she paused, briefly, before continuing their descent.
“I can feel that something is wrong. It is in the air. Call it the Force…Call it what you please…But I feel it.”, her chin dipped slowly, and ivory hair slipped over her shoulder. Silver eyes held unfathomable emotions. Things she knew not how to express.
“I am trying. I do not know if it will be enough.”
Srina reached for the former Commander, her gentle Jedi, and pulled his lightsaber free from her waist with a breath of telekinesis. No one really seemed to blink an eye when she carried a cadre of weaponry. She was Echani. Combat was in her blood. To take away her sword was to remove a limb, part of her life, her soul. The lightsaber that she had kept safe for so long floated over and clipped itself to the belt that her husband wore. She knew he would fight it…
“You must.”
Must. He could not be unprotected. She had nearly lost him on Coruscant and on Eshan.
Enough.
Her hand lingered in his. Fingers entwined, there was no loving gesture, nor perfect promise. Aryn knew. She knew. Now, they had a mission to complete.
Aryn released her hand as they continued making their way down the ramp and Srina knew that [member="Voph"] had fallen in-step beside them. Srina had forgone all manner of battle-droids, and instead, had decided to rely on mostly flesh and blood. He was convinced that her position in the Confederacy meant that there was a target on her back. Perhaps he was right. She was both a strength and a weakness to the Vicelord. They cared for one another deeply and held a mutual respect that went beyond that of an Apprentice and Master. Only her hand had stayed [member="Darth Metus"] in the first place.
Her death, even accidental, would likely turn Kuat into a smoldering nightmare.
Srina exhaled slowly as she looked over at the skilled man who had volunteered to brave this war-torn world. Not everyone would. When things were placed into perspective…
”Perhaps, you were right.”
Perhaps.
The trip from the space-port to the City Center was swift. She could feel the eyes of the people but remained near [member="Sankt Yora"] with her head held high. It would help perception for the Senator to be seen with the Exarch—and not at odds.
“Traveling was…Travel.”, Srina responded honestly, gently, though her thoughts were frankly far away. As Aryn used his gifts to gauge the atmosphere of the citizens, she could feel the pain, desperation, and longing. The governmental building under control of House Kuat was actually fairly put together. The Confederate coloring caught her eye.
So much effort had gone into their arrival. Even, a banquet.
“You went through so much trouble. It is appreciated—yet, unnecessary. I do not hold myself to the standards of the nobility. Nor do my companions…I completely agree that we may speak plainly.”
Srina turned her head to look down at the red and blue bunny droids. They were hiding behind her cloak, peering at the Kuati Representatives, as if they had never seen someone that particular shade of green before. They were always so curious.
“My little rabbits will head toward the banquet hall. They are exceedingly curious.”
“This is [member="Aryn Teth"]. He knows the Core better than I, and in that respect, he will remain to advise.”, she introduced him by name, uncertain if it would ring a bell for the Senator. It had been a long time since the Alliance had fallen.
“And this is [member="Voph"]. A protective friend.”
The Exarch watched her ‘
murder moppets’ hop off to explore in the other room before turning her focus back to [member="Sankt Yora"].
“We are temporarily affecting your airspace with our blockade. With that, I do have a rather indulgent amount of credits that were granted by our Minister of Commerce. I can deposit that electronically to your accounts, however, we did run into trouble on our way. We were hesitant to turn over our aid and supplies to the Republic, and thus, they have denied it entry. We brought it for the people of Kuat, and my people, believe that it is our responsibility to ensure that it is distributed fairly and evenly to those that need it most.”
“The Confederacy has a lot of experience in working with war-torn communities. Eshan City is one such example, during, and after the Mandalorian occupation. We are quite capable of assessing a situation and acting accordingly. We are also attempting to settle a small forward operating base in the city…We hope, eventually, to be able to move supplies there but we may need your help. We do wish to make good on our word.”
No sooner had she stopped speaking than a broadcast snapped across an empty holo-projector. Srina did not recognize the woman speaking. Her heart sank, as this creature spoke, and she could feel the anger rising in her Master. Her eyes turned toward Sankt Yora. Instantly, she knew, that the green-skinned female was not on the same page as the Republic representative. She raised her hand and absently rubbed the space near her heart. Her eyes grew distant.
“…That woman…That woman is going to start a war. The blockade does effect supplies, however, we are mitigating the interruption by replacing any loss of goods and then some. This accusation is only because we refused to hand everything over to a Distribution Center that is run by the very people we’re investigating. They would deny Kuat…Deny the people aid simply because they do not approve our method?”
“People wish to live. They don’t want to starve. Why would they care what hand feeds them? What roof shelters them from the rain?”
Srina was…
Bothered. Her words were spoken coldly.
Quietly. It was not for a lack of emotion, moreover, that she was bursting with it. Documents flooded the Holo-Net, bogging it down, as the secrets of the Republic seemed to spill forth and overflow. Was this woman mad? Srina did not know her. She did not know every leader, of every nation, unless she had a reason to. She had found reason in [member="Sankt Yora"], while here, she found only juvenile and short-sighted responses.
She moved toward one of the chairs that sat around the conference table and the blue of her cloak rolled when she sat down
. “Tell me how to proceed with the supplies Sankt Yora. If you tell me to push them through the Distribution Center I will. If you tell me to order my people to press them forward forcibly…I will. Your people should not suffer due to red tape, hubris, and bureaucracy.”
Then came the speech from [member="Darth Metus"]. Her heart sank further as his wrath rolled through her like a wave.
“Vicelord, please.”, she voiced, barely words, while the Force Bond she held with him would relay her concerns. The Republic seemed to think that their documents were enough. Records released, that could have been scrubbed, meant nothing.
‘I am here with the former Senator of Kuat…We have only just begun. Do you trust this? Does nothing feel off to you? If the blockade is complete...Can we not allow some of the supply vessels safe passage?’
The documents were damning but any slicer worth their salt could fabricate anything they needed. Someone had hacked into the Citadel previously to hide records and information beofore. While the Republic was certainly guilty of providing less than adequate attention to Kuat
(at least by Confederate standards), Srina, was not certain that they were guilty of harming their civilians.
Silver eyes fluttered open and pulled toward the former Senator and [member="Chekīta Awaud"]. They were haunted.
“Are there safe places for your people to go? Bunkers? If so…Please begin directing them there.”
A precaution. Hopefully, it stayed that way.
