Ask Plot Chandrila Cool Diplomacy for Hot Heads

Nashyr Ris

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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."

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Oren Zapan

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Oren would smile softly as he sat back in the co-pilot's seat of Nash's ship. It was nice to be on missions again, to feel the open adventure of the expansive galaxy, with a single goal and mission in mind. What made it better was that he had Nash to join him. Their connection had slowly begun to grow over their time on Rishi, and he was open to it completely.

She was her own person, and he would never attempt to control or block her off from the galaxy. But, he wasn't going to deny that a little alone time on a mission to the Core Worlds wouldn't be nice. He peered out towards the stars, with his lone functioning eye. His astromech, R2-H5, gently beeping a few coordinates away.

As the pair descended into the atmosphere, it seemed that a switch at flipped in the Cathar and she quickly became all business. He would turn to meet her gaze, nodding slightly towards her assessment. "I could imagine, if things are as bad as the report says, then the people of this area will be on edge."

He would gently tap against the pit in his chin, "I believe it would be best for us to travel with them, as a sign of solidarity," he'd say in a serious tone, "You and I won't be leaving until we can help these people come to an agreement and a peaceful agreement." He would pull himself from his seat, placing a mechanical hand over his old master's droid.

"Watch our ship, and keep the doors locked," he would smile as the dome head of the droid spun and chirped. He would turn back, making sure Nash was beside him as they descended down the ramps.

While Oren wasn't particularly fond of wearing robes much anymore, he felt it would be best as a representative and senior member of the Order on this operation. It felt weird to do so, but he pushed such thoughts aside. He would approach their new friend, bowing softly. "I am Jedi Master Oren Zapan, and this my friend Nashyr Ris." He would pull himself up from the bow, "We heard you're having troubles, how can we be of service?"

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Nashyr Ris

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It was nice to be able to keep things simple for now, being two Jedi on a mission first and foremost. But... it was also nice knowing he was not even arms' length away, and the urge to touch was a strong one she resisted for most of this trip. She was sure there had to be some boundaries somewhere, but this was all new territory for her.

When they were leaving, she made sure to lightly pat the top of R2's chassis.
"Thanks, pal," she grinned, then lightly jogged towards Oren, just before the ramp lowered. "Before I forget, one last thing..." She slipped her hand into his cybernetic one, and gave it a light squeeze, and a quick peck to the cheek. She couldn't resist, private moments were few and far between... and then grinned ."For luck."

She still wasn't certain if he could feel at all with that hand... but she had to, just because. Nor how much he could see from his damaged eye, but hey, these little things helped.

"Okay. Now I'm all set."

She herself was dressed in robes of a type as well, but of a more muted design. Though it was the distinct outer tunic of a Jedi, it was sleeveless in black, with a pair of dark grey leggings and her heavy mag-boots, the whole ensemble draped with a black Jedi robe. Her lightsaber was stashed on the small of her back, the blaster rigged into a harness unseen on her ribcage, set to stun.

She knew this was meant to ease minds... but she wasn't going to let hot tempers take them down if she could help it.

Since this was a Core world, she had to question how far the Rangers had jurisdiction here; she wasn't apprised the logistics by the council, either. As the ramp lowered, the human male waited until Oren introduced them, then nodded, jerkily straightening his own outfit with shaking hands.

"Yes. Pleasure," he nodded crisply, eyes of clear blue settling onto Oren with unsettling intensity. "Zak Fischa, voted city representative of my district, Rila, of sector 3 of Hanna City. Thank you for coming. This is my assistant," he gestured to a previously unseen older Zeltron woman, who nodded with a grin, "Iska Balmo." She, too, seemed dressed slightly more formal, but where Zak was jerky and all narrow angles, she was smaller, with a kind face and a broad smile. "A pleasure to meet you both, Jedi," she answered smoothly, holding out her hand to shake to both of them.

"Our transport is right this way, if you'll please follow me," she continued after they both would shake her hand, clipping towards a four-seated speeder that seemed rather upscale for such a minor operation. "Please take a seat, and if you have any questions during our trip, I'll be happy to answer for you."

She climbed into the driver's seat, and Zak reluctantly took the passenger, leaving the back seat open for the two Jedi to step in if they pleased.


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Oren Zapan

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Oren's markings flushed bright red as he felt Nash's kiss against his the crates that lined his face, and a slight sensation of force against his wrist, but was unable to truly feel the gesture. It took all his strength not to melt away at that moment, but he knew they had a job to do. "I think I could use more luck," he'd say with a soft purr, as they had stepped out of the ship.

The two officials seemed official, the man of the group seemed rigid and strict--though Oren chalked this up to probably stress and tiredness. But, the Zeltron seemed cheery, and welcoming of the two of them. "The pleasure is ours," he'd say with a gentle smile as they followed the two of them into the shuttle.

He would take a seat beside Nash, their robes flowing into the seats, his own hand would be hidden under the various fabric, allowing him to rest his hand against the side of Nash's hip. It wasn't suggestive, but more of a calming presence during their trip into the unknown.

"How long has the protests been going on for?" He'd ask as he peered out of the window of the shuttle, "How many people are there and what is the exact specifics for their reasoning?"

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Nashyr Ris

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Nash slid in to the right side, behind Zak. When Oren settled beside her, she gave him a warm smile to show she heard his earlier comment, then as his hand rested against her hip, she slid her own hand over, lightly resting on top of his and slightly interlacing their fingers for a brief moment, hidden. She allowed him to feel, in that touch, that she was calm, and clear-headed, and anticipating being a diplomat in a way. And she was so grateful he was along... she may have handled it alone, but to have some of this alone time, and assist the order... it was a good change of pace.

The engine hummed to life as the speeder gracefully turned, descending to one byway that fed to a shorter highway, the cruise smooth and almost quiet.
"A week and a half ago," answered Zak, his eyes downcast as he leaned into his seat with an awkward, stork-like grace. "We had our own police to try and contain the situation, but one of the ringleaders escaped and started up more mayhem in other districts, talking about the mysterious illness in Hanna City and how we're not supplying enough food, clean water and medical care to our people." His face seemed tight, as though too many emotions were crowding to the surface at once. "It was my fault; we couldn't even identify them before they escaped. But their talking of our city's government is putting us in a bad light, if we're not careful everything will fall apart."

Perhaps he was overdramatizing, but Nash could understand. But Iska, oddly, remained mostly silent for the trip, only occasionally glancing up to Zak or in the rearview, assessing Oren and Nash. When she did speak up, Zak blinked rapidly. "No more than forty, fifty people where we're at," she answered calmly, glancing over towards Zak. "From what I believe, they wanted a mediary to speak, but I doubt it'll work. They've been working themselves to anger far too quickly for us to manage calmly and peaceably."

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The Jedi Master was glad that Nash was with him at this moment, life had been difficult to readjust to, his emotions and the things he had burdened for so long had taken more of a toll on him than he ever could have admitted. He had been stressed, but being here, helping the galaxy in ways that kept him away from his lightsaber was the step he needed. He'd make a mental note in his head to talk about the troubles he was feeling, and to mention it to Nashyr after they solved the crisis.

Zak would mention a mysterious illness, and a shortage of food supplies, and that people were getting antsy over it. He found it odd, that his wording made it sound more as a rumor than a fact. But, if you stopped to think about it, little of it truly did. "You mentioned an illness, can you tell me about it?" He'd ask in a soft voice, "Can you also tell me what resources your organizations have funded or routed to combating and aiding the sick?" His fingers would squeeze gently against Nash's as he spoke.

"I don't hope I sound combative or inquisitorial in my questions, but I believe that if we are to help mitigate any potential problems, we need clear and honest answers from yourself, and a gameplan that we can roll out. Once we are on the same holo-frequency we can start to make subtle changes and aide those that really need it--and once people start to see the help, I believe the problems you're facing in the streets will come to a close." He'd peer towards the Cathar with a smile.

"Nashyr, do you have anything to add?"

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Nashyr Ris

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"We don't know what caused it, or where the strain came from."

Iska spoke next, her voice deceptively calm.
"All we've been told is that we've been granted assistance and aid... we're not on lockdown yet." Her smile was brittle, and Zak shuffled, coughing slightly in embarrassment. "Ah... yes. The odd thing is how quickly this illness spreads. It's not been terribly deadly yet... but it seems to be quite contagious. Those that contract it are immediately being rushed to quarantine. I believe more of your Order are there now, to figure out what's going on?"

He turned, owlishly blinking at Nashyr and Oren. Whether to confirm or not hardly mattered.

"From what I also believe, we are receiving some aid to contain and study for a cure from other planets," he nodded. "But there's little I can do other than hope to contain it, and..."

Iska suddenly turned the speeder away from the mainline, heading for an alleyway instead. The doors clicked to lock shut.

"A shortcut?" he turned to his partner, only to be met with a blaster. "Isk-"

She fired a stun to his chest and he slumped over, eyes still wide in shock. She turned around to point it at the two Jedi in the back, hands shaking on the blaster.
"Please, don't move." She spoke tremblingly, jaw clenched. "I don't want you to do anything stupid... we need you to listen to our side, not his bureaucratic kark."

From the entrance of the alleyway, two more people appeared.
"I lost my son," she spoke, swallowing hard. "You listen to our side first, and then try to keep things from boiling over. Got it?" Nash tensed, prepared to reach for her blaster... and still held on to Oren, and the blaster pointed in her direction. "Don't even think about it. We'll be picked up soon... and I need you both alive to listen to what we have to say first."

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Oren listened quietly as Iska spoke, her mannerisms aired on the sense of calmness, but he could pick up on the slight unease or extra meaning behind her words. Shouldn't she know what help they've been granted? It seemed rather strange, and something didn't feel right about the situation.

"I believe you most likely put more lives at risk by not announcing things," he would say in a pointed response. questioning why they would leave their people in the dark. "Your people are looking to you for aide and guidance..don't leave them in the dark." He would sigh softly--knowing what would most likely come next.

He watched with an aloof expression as the blaster was pointed in their direction by the Zeltron. He could sense Nash reaching for her own blaster. He would reach out with a suggestion through the force, if she was present in mind she'd be able to pick up on it. Center yourself, use your words and your mind..trust in yourself, not in a tool.

He would smile towards the Zeltron, "We will listen to your demands, but a hostile action cannot be undone," his eye would peer towards the diplomat that sat beside her, "Regardless of how you feel about him, the two of you are both members of this community. We Jedi will only be here for the moment. In the future the two sides will have to live with the decisions made today. Would you prefer to come together and to rebuild trust among each other or would you prefer to turn your backs and lead to more strife and pain?"

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Nashyr Ris

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Iska's hand shook on the blaster, but her jaw clenched. "Why are you smiling ?" her voice wobbled, more freaked that the seemingly unarmed Jedi was smiling and lecturing instead of actually trying to fight back. Didn't he have a death wish? "They told us nothing, and yet we're stuck here waiting for something to happen..."

The two people at the alleyway strode over. One was a massive Trandoshan built in a simple pilot's suit, the other another human, a smaller female. The doors unlocked, and Nash felt it. A subtle nudge from Oren... and she nodded. Her grip slightly tightened on his... then slipped away, and she could feel her heart pounding.

Iska waved the blaster at both of them, her face cold.
"Out. Now. We can discuss this inside."

If he didn't contest this, the pair were to be escorted by Iska and the human female; the Trandoshan stooped into the speeder to scoop up the stunned delegate and sling him over his shoulder, taking up the rear. Iska led them down one alleyway, then another.

From within the warehouse building, a chorus of angry voices could be heard. Young and old, of all races... and when the doors opened, she noticed most of them were in older or dirty clothing, and all of them looking rough and unkempt in some way.

Laborers. Some middle class... no upper class people yet.

The many voices overlapped, as Iska strode in they all went silent, staring at Nashyr, Oren, and the insensate Zak in the Trandoshan's arms.

Iska tucked the blaster away, arms crossed as she scowled at the two Jedi.
"You were sent here to talk, right? How many lies did the people of Hanna tell you about this disease? Did they tell you about how we've been forgotten?"

"Now wait a minute," Nashyr finally spoke, arms crossed in retaliation. "We were called here to help, not to be justice seekers. Instead of kidnapping us and talking about justice, why don't we discuss how we can try to help this situation first?" There were angry mutters and scowling faces...

But Nashyr glanced at Oren. Hopefully he had some way to speak to the crowd... as she was not really in her element here.

She had never had to deal with such high tensions in the air before.


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Oren said nothing as the trandoshan and female thugs came to take them into the warehouse, his eyes were closed as his hands rested in front of his waist as he took slow steps. His body radiated a calmness that hopefully gave the Cathar an assurance that things were going to be okay. He had faced worse, and if they wanted them dead, then it would come to that, but there was no reason to panic now. He would listen to whatever their speech was and make his decisions or action then.

He stepped into the room to hear the rumblings of the poor and disfranchised. The Zeltron woman turned towards the two of them with a scowl, demanding that they offer up the lies they had been fed. He would tilt his head as he listened to Nashyr's sentiments on the situation. It was true that they would solve nothing here, but it seemed trivial to him to even argue from that perspective--this woman knew they were here for that reason, but she most likely was going to suggest they do something, possibly violent, in order to help their cause.

"The people of Hanna?" He'd ask in a gentle tone, his brow on the burnt side of his face rising gently, "The only two people we've met with, is yourself and Zak.." He'd cross his arms, "But, your wording is interesting...are you implying that you yourself are not a member of this planet? If not, then who are you?"

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Nashyr Ris

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At least the Zeltron put away her blaster.

Nash was interested to see Oren seemed so calm; she knew he became a Master for a reason, but seeing him in the light of the Jedi gave her an odd feeling of warmth in her chest. A feeling she seemed to sense only when she felt...

She cut that thought off before it could form. But she glanced at him... and nodded. She knew what he was telling her... oddly enough, she could just feel it, even though no words were spoken. She would have to dwell on that later... more sleepless nights would be spent thinking about this, no doubt.

Iska's eyes narrowed at Oren, as the female Human next to her spoke up.
"No." Her voice was light, like a bird's, oddly jumping in places. "She is one of us... she means..."

"She means..." Iska cut in, glancing to the woman, "that we haven't been considered the people of this city for several years." She gestured a hand to the crowd, some of whom were openly giving hostile looks to the Jedi. One man spoke up in the back. "We've heard the other districts are getting aid, food, medical care... where are they?" More voices answered the chorus, and another voice spoke up. "And what about our representatives? There's a rumor they're getting help long before us!"

This was getting too much. They didn't want to seem to listen... Nash inhaled, then exhaled slowly, hands dropping to spread them out.
"We had no idea," she answered plainly. Probably not the best answer, but it seemed like most of them here would have respected blunt honesty than kind words. "With these worries of receiving equal aid... how can we help?"

Iska narrowed her eyes, arms crossing tightly.
"We don't need the Jedi's help. We want answers. Why are we not getting the aid we need, when we need it? Don't we matter?"

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Oren would peer towards the crowd, with a soft sigh, it was often the reality that poor and the weak were left to fend for themselves, while those with power kept it for themselves. Someone like the Arcanist or the Rain would argue that it was up to the people to take it by force, and to embrace the idea of Master Morality, and that the Jedi and their helping nature only helped nurture the mind of slaves. But, he didn't see it this way. These people, had voiced their concerns and had gotten people to notice, and the Jedi had even been called to mediate--and not even a blaster shot had been fired.

A small smile would form on his lips as he thought about it all, the progression of change being brought about a group of people, even in their frustration they hadn't resorted to chaos. He listened to Nashyr offer their help in assistance, but they didn't need it--they had already done what they had to, at least Oren saw it that way. His hand would rest gently against the Knight's shoulder, in a platonic fashion.

"I must say, I commend your fortitude in these actions, to unify yourself as a people without splitting is a testament to your reliant and persistent nature." His voice held a sense of charm that only he could have, "You propose quite the question, and I'm afraid I don't have the answer to that," he'd pause as he looked towards the government official who was still slung over the shoulder of the Trandoshan, "But, I believe he may have some answers.." He would say in a sharp tone, "Is that so Diplomat Zak?"

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Many open glares fell upon the insensate man, who was still in his captor's arms. Many angry mutters and glares were directed his way, and even a few fists balled up. The woman beside Iska flinched, arms crossing tightly. "You shouldn't have given him such a strong bolt, Issy..." The Zeltron tossed a glare at the woman, clenching her jaw. It was already clear she was strung tighter than a cable on a limp towed cruiser, but hearing the woman talk frayed that control.

"Next time you take a hostage, you control the strength," she snapped back, glaring as the girl shrank back.

"No...need..."

Finally, he began blinking awake. He calmly shifted until he was set down, then wobbled precariously. A chair was placed down and he was shoved into it, blinking rapidly and running his hands along the front of his shirt. "Tell us why," Iska demanded, leaning over him. Sweat began beading on his forehead as he seemed to blink out the fog, hand then running through his hair.

"I-I, uh... I didn't know that..." he began to gulp, flinching when something slammed in the background. "Didn't know what, you kriffin' moron? Were you too busy kissin' up to notice we were havin' ta steal?" More angry voices chimed, and he flinched back as one male charged, his face almost purple with rage. "Or too busy to fill your credit stash--" before he drew up a blaster.

Pointing right at the Jedi.

"That you would notice we were worried for our own?! And gettin' them trouble-makin', murderous wizards involved?!"

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Nashyr Ris

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Nashyr felt his hand to her shoulder, and glanced sideways at Oren. She knew he advocated for peace, and for keeping calm... but there was only so long before something happened, and in her experience, these escalating tempers and nerves weren't helping.

Perhaps... she briefly recalled when Max mentioned something... telepathy. She would give it a try... there was that spark of it, before, a glimmering feeling in the Force. Less subtle than a disturbance... but there.

She rested her hand atop his, letting her feelings wash to him.
I know what I'm doing. Trust me, she tried, eyes narrowing in focus slightly. She didn't notice the blaster pointed their way, but blinked when she realized it was there. She frowned... then tilted her head as she stared at them all.

"There's no justifying his death, or ours, with what you need."


She spoke bluntly, arms crossing.
"You wanted answers, and you're getting them. We're here to offer help, not listen to slander. If you want mediaries to settle your differences, then..." she stared into the human male's eyes, her voice soft, calm.

Almost.. persuasive.

"Put the blaster away. Then, maybe, we can talk."

His hand started to lower slightly. Iska seemed to calm.. but she wasn't focused on them. Only on this man... and slowly held her palms out peaceably. Hopefully, this crowd could react more graciously to blunt talk and calm words rather than action...


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It seemed things were slowly descending into madness, and if the two of them didn't do something quick, then someone could get hurt or possibly die. He was going to say something, when he felt her hand move towards his own, her emotions washing over to him as his own flooded to her. He wanted to melt into her arms at that moment, and would take a deep breath as he accepted the thoughts, and would push them to the side. I trust in you completely Nashyr.. His words would echo through the force to the Cathar.

He turned to face the blaster as he allowed Nashyr to take the lead, and display the training that had allowed the old cat to reach the rank of Knight in the first place. He felt the determination in her voice and the slow persuasion escape her lips, which slowly made the man lower his blaster.

Oren was reluctant to use this ability, but it seemed that in such a situation the case was needed. His fingers on his left hand would wiggle softly for the briefest moment, as he took a deep breath, and slowly the suggestion would ring through the force with his words. "We want to work with you, but we need to know the truth..you want to tell us where the credit went."

The man would pause, his mouth dropping slightly open as he seemed to feel a thought come to his head, "I want to tell you where the credits..went." He would peer up, nervously, "I was order by the Governor of this region to divert the funding for as long as possible..I'm afraid half of the credits have been spent on prepping the upper aristocracy's homes and families.." He'd say with a gulp.

He could feel the tension rising in the air, and possible violence breaking out in the situation. But, even in the worst of situations, a solution and a compromise could be made. I believe in us...we can do this.

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Just as the situation couldn't get any worse...

It got worse, and in the worst of times. When the man finally, finally eased off his blaster, Diplomat Zak had to just spill the beans. She could hardly jump in fast enough when the guy with the blaster reared forwards, blaster forgotten when he lashed out hard in the other hand, and the dignitary flopped down like a paper doll with the slam to the face. Two more men jumped in as he struggled to get another hit in towards the prone dignitary, face purple.

"Ya kriffin' idiot!" He bellowed, one leg swinging out. "Yer supposed ta look after us, not forget--"

"Enough!"

Iska strode towards the Jedi. Past the prone former boss of hers, past the furious man who still struggled against his bonds from his captors. Her arms crossed... and she glared straight at Oren, violet eyes dark with anger.


"Jedi. Help us secure aid... and we'll let you go."


She glanced at Zak, her expression icy with hatred and revulsion.
"But leave this man here. What he's done... he won't get away with it. And neither... neither will I."

She looked at both of them then, her expression unreadable as she settled her hands on her hips.
"Do we have a deal?"

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Nashyr Ris

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He trusted her.

It wouldn't have been such a big deal before... but a small, surprised warmth tingled when he put faith in her abilities. Perhaps it was a foolish thing, to be touched... but in her past, not many completely trusted her judgement. She had to suppress a smile at that... and in that moment, there was another whisper of something between them. It was like... he knew her mind, and she was beginning to know his. And even as he released her shoulder to talk on his own, the ghost of that connection lingered still.

...It was both beautiful and alarming, but she wasn't going to dwell on it yet. There was always an after... and she was curious how he would feel to this, or if this was the norm for their way of life.

She lunged as though to intercept when Zak was hit and fell; but then she stopped when Iska began to talk, head tilted slightly to listen to her proposition. However... her stomach dropped at the thought of it. Leave him to the very people who probably blamed him for all their problems?

Not a chance.

"We'll help you secure aid to your people," she nodded, giving a warm, encouraging smile. But then it faded... and her voice was slow, deliberate.

"However, we can't allow to leave without our escort. We will aid your people... and we will not do it without the cooperation with both the Chandrilan people and their representatives. And those that abused those rights..." her tone was soft, almost sympathetic. She could see the pain in this woman's eyes; Nash had never had children, or wanted to... but there was something of that righteous anger the woman felt that she could respect, in a way.

...It almost made her wonder.


"Those people that abused them will suffer the consequences under your fullest laws. That is our deal."

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Oren's eye shifted towards Nara as she spoke, "We can't promise something we can't guarantee," he'd say with a sigh, as he turned back towards the Zeltron and the battered diplomat. "I will not tolerate vigilante justice from any of you, nor will I tolerate the actions and misguided nature of the aristocracy on this planet."

He felt a twang of pain in his voice, he didn't want to make Nashyr look bad, nor did he think his opinion was any better than hers, but he felt that this would be the only true option available to them. "You are supposed to be a community, one that guides each other and works towards a common cause. We can't bring the credits back now, but we can build towards repairing the mistrust now." His eye would shift towards the diplomat.

"You spent half, correct? Prepare and expedite the funds to arrive sooner than possible," he'd say in a sharp voice, "And you will work to mitigate the next wave of findings by diverting funds towards the upper class to these people..after you will make a public announcement about your actions, and the steps that you and your people will do to make it up to everyone..If that requires you to be prosecuted, then that will be on the people of this planet, not for the Jedi to decide."

He'd sigh as he crossed his arms, "We are not government officials, you asked for a peaceful mediation between deals, and we've had blasters pointed at us and were kidnapped. I understand that the people are nervous and everyone is stressed, but both sides need to take a step back. Killing this man accomplishes what? Further distrust in the system by the leaders of your planet, and more funds will just be diverted away from you. Zak and his rulers have broken the trust of the people and could very well leave them dead, are you truly a ruler if you rule over nothing?" His brow would raise slightly, "You the people have voices, you can rise up like you did by calling us, and you must hold these actions accountable in constructive ways..and Zak must be given a second chance, have I made myself clear, and after if he must step down, then he should."

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The Storyteller

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This was no debate amphitheater, but it sufficed for the people that worked, lived and breathed in this city as one of the poorer districts. As the Jedi openly chastised the mob for their behavior, some had the courtesy to look a little chagrined. It was true... they were asked to act as mediaries, but not by their choices.

But the balance of survival overshadowed the need for peace and balance. Though such a place had once been idyllic, the corruption and greed of its' capital city representatives left a sour note. A note that could even be felt without any sensitivity.

Zak glanced up at Iska, wheezing. His thin features were drawn up into a painful line, the cut on his lip bleeding and his arms wrapped around his stomach where he had been kicked. "I'm so sorry, Issy... you all have every right... to hate me." His voice rasped, and he winced at its' rawness. "But... I'll help you to recover... and I agree, Jedi."

His head hung low, and he trembled, his young voice almost entirely docile. "I... didn't have much of a choice," he confessed, before shaking his head. "No. I wanted to help my people... they will have the rest, and some of the shares of the aristocracy." But he wouldn't look up to meet the Jedi knight or her companion's eyes. How could he?

He was a simple coward, after all.

"And we will... try to hold on." Iska seemed... uncertain though. "But we need help soon, or we'll starve." She glanced to Oren, then shook her head. "Let them go."

"But Iska--"

"No." She gazed at Oren... and then a faint smile touched her lips.
"A Jedi that can debate and hold his ground... interesting." Her head tilted, and her shoulders dropped. "Diplomat Zak and I will speak, with the Jedi's help... no more blasters, no more talk other than getting what our district needs." Zak nodded, finally slowly looking up to the Zeltron, then to the two Jedi.

"So... shall we... get... started?"


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Nashyr Ris

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At least it seemed tensions dissipated somewhat. Though she wasn't certain herself whether or not this was going to truly solve all their problems... it was a start, and that in and of itself was a step beyond what had been before. Even though Iska seemed to act as leader, she wouldn't have been surprised that it was her own determination that pushed the woman to speaking up and leading this ragtag mob to be heard.

It was a shame that the situation went this far. Though she had to suppress a glance to Oren when he mentioned they were kidnapped. He knew as well as she that if push came to shove, they would have been able to get out of this at any time... but being shot was a very real threat. And running would have solved nothing.

It took hours. By the time she was finally done, Nash could feel the weariness down to her bones. But Zak had somberly followed through on his word, and it seemed as though things were finally going their way. What few funds left would be diverted from Zak's personal funds, and halved his food and water rations to be supplied with the convoys provided by other planets. It wasn't going to be easy, but politics never were, and discussions got heated in a few instances. However, Nash was hopeful that Chandrila's past as a democratic-minded community would pull through here.

But there was one problem: both sides had to come to the law peacefully. And the urge to reach out to Oren again was strong... but she resisted. She resisted for several reasons, but one of them was she wanted to wait until they had a private moment alone. And when things finally seemed to be wrapping up...


"Thank you."


Iska's voice interrupted Nash's own musing, and the Cathar glanced her way... and nodded.

"Don't thank me. The first step is making sure your people get the aid you deserve. And the second step... is not the easiest," she admitted, frowning. Iska simply nodded, then glanced to her representative calmly.

"Masters Jedi, Diplomat Zak, allow me to escort you both back to Hanna City. Let's see that we get what we need for our people."


/End Thread
 
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