Nashyr Ris had to admit, Chandrila was possibly one of the few places she wouldn't have minded visiting for any reason other than Jedi business. But there was word on the street that lack of aid in good time has brought out a mob-like mentality among the normally peaceable Chandrilans, especially with disease striking their capital of Hanna. Despite the idyllic appearance of these more rural areas of this planet were in dire need, and when aid was slow in coming riots began to break out, and strikes to demand equal treatment from their supply runs.
For once, Nashyr wanted to fly her ship. The Tigris was less likely to be recognizable, and besides... it meant she could talk with Jedi Master Oren about what they were up against. This was more his realm than hers... and she had the feeling he had better clout with working with citizens than she would have. Public speaking was all well and good, but that didn't mean you were good at settling riots or angry, scared crowds.
They broke the atmosphere, drifting towards the landing pad their escort kindly sent her the coordinates for. "Our contact states we will be escorted to one of the hotbeds of activity; a fringe community of Hanna, I think, and a place where there are the most protests." She glanced in his direction, golden eyes calm. "Did you want us to use our own transport, or would it be wise to use theirs? I'd hate to be abandoned by our hosts if we should fail to cool the crowd down."
It was still odd to call him Master in her own mind... but perhaps she would warm up to it in time. As her ship slowly landed, an agitated-looking human male awaited at the edge of the pad, and she unbuckled from her harness with a sigh, giving him a tired wink.
"Showtime."
@TWD26
For once, Nashyr wanted to fly her ship. The Tigris was less likely to be recognizable, and besides... it meant she could talk with Jedi Master Oren about what they were up against. This was more his realm than hers... and she had the feeling he had better clout with working with citizens than she would have. Public speaking was all well and good, but that didn't mean you were good at settling riots or angry, scared crowds.
They broke the atmosphere, drifting towards the landing pad their escort kindly sent her the coordinates for. "Our contact states we will be escorted to one of the hotbeds of activity; a fringe community of Hanna, I think, and a place where there are the most protests." She glanced in his direction, golden eyes calm. "Did you want us to use our own transport, or would it be wise to use theirs? I'd hate to be abandoned by our hosts if we should fail to cool the crowd down."
It was still odd to call him Master in her own mind... but perhaps she would warm up to it in time. As her ship slowly landed, an agitated-looking human male awaited at the edge of the pad, and she unbuckled from her harness with a sigh, giving him a tired wink.
"Showtime."
@TWD26