Nar Shaddaa never slept. Usually, the combination of sleaze, vice and general criminality kept the wheels of the moon turning, every hour of every day. Always something going on. Always something to try, steal, drink or... well, y'know.
Now, though, Nar Shaddaa was still emerging from a living nightmare. The infected hordes that had raged through moon had mostly torn themselves to pieces, but there were still rumours and whispers of roving packs, spreading the infection amongst the slums. Ragged, torn apart corpses littered the alleyways in some sectors. They clogged the drainage and sewage, as well as the undertunnels that ran beneath it all. Order was being restored somewhat, with the crime bosses and Hutts starting to take stock of their territory, seeing what they'd lost or what they could retain. Rival worked with rival to clear the streets and restore some semblance of sanity.
And there were many, many people still injured.
Nara's ramshackle clinic was stuffed full of people. The fearful hubbub of conversation could be heard everywhere, as people shared what they'd heard. Sometimes, what they'd been through. Innocent families sat by a stretcher, wounds bandaged. A sawbones checked over some enforcer's cuts and bites, checking for infection. Tired and hungry people stood listlessly, waiting for their treatments to take hold, nursing the bowl of soup they'd been handed by a very frazzled Rodian woman.
In the middle of it all was Nara. Nara, looking stressed. Nara, looking tired. She hadn't slept much since it'd all happened, since she'd delved into the depths of the sewers with Izel, Isen and the strange new Mandalorian woman, along with the blind Jedi. She'd been beaten around, pushed through raw sewage and seen people tear each other into shreds. It hadn't been great, to put it mildly. Now the nightmare had finished, there was just the long, arduous task of trying to put everything back together again.
Jedi work never ends.
She stepped back from the bed, letting the hand go. She'd given the last of the energy she could spare to some young woman, caught in a fever. She'd been healing and organising and helping all day and it was getting to her. She pushed through a host of others needing help, stepping towards the front. Out into the fresh... well, more fresh, air. Fanning herself as she leaned against the wall, shaking her head. The streets were somewhat busy... but not in the normal way. Everyone looked a little shellshocked. A little bit scared. She couldn't blame them.
As for what I've got hidden in the back... she thought, shivering at the mere acknowledgement of what she'd taken from that thing.
Open to Jedi, Rangers, Independents and anyone else who'd be involved in helping Nar Shaddaa recover. Open particularly for people involved in the Nar Shaddaa portion of the Galaxy In Crisis event, but feel free to join in if you're just helping out!