The Lakes looked more like standing pools these days. Apropos, perhaps, since each little pool reflected the ruins of the Oligard Estate. Thus always to tyrants, Clem thought just before she cursed. Loudly.
The Envoy had spent so much time waxing philosophic with a deathstick dangling from her lips that it had burned down to a nub, allowing the flame to reach her mouth. She flicked the stub into the dirt and ground it out under her boot. Her threads were dusty to the knees, goggles pushed up into her black bob. She lit another deathstick as her droid trundled up with the last of the relief crates. Water purification tablets, ration packs, bacta, all supplies she’d carried to people in need throughout the Galaxy. This jaunt to Nei'kapo, though, was the first official Brotherhood farce she hadn’t managed to wriggle her way out of; these supplies meant nothing if the Iron Throne would take it over. The status quo would remain unchanged.
She had her own designs, though. She was the great Clem Fandango, after all. She’d find some scrappy band of freedom fighters to organize, even if the Exarch sent her packing for it. Whether Karracca, Miklik, or Aurelis would hinder her efforts, only time would tell. She turned to her companions, who’d gathered just a few yards away.
“So, what’s our first move, partners?”
<@1178915035049902120> <@186977617356783616>
‘Deliver these supplies, and then go look for some cool Collective tech to scrounge?“ Reece bonked and booped.
Karracca had noticed the smell of the deathstick as soon as the Hawks ramp dropped. He walked up behind Clem, and politely tapped her on the shoulder. When she turned he held out a paw and lightly roared, "Could I troubke your for one of those?”
The old wookie had smoked one for decades, but his new promotion to Exarch’s Staff along with heading up the planning cell for, and leading, the campaign against the Bilbringi Cartel, had him craving a puff or two.
“My Captain wants to acquire one of your cigars Madam.” Fozzy the old beat up pilot droid knew that neither Karracca, Reece, or Miklik could verbalize the Basic language(though they could all understand it), so he had assumed the role of translator aswell as being the co-pilot/engineer aboard the YT-1300.
As he wasn’t one to usually wait around Reece deployed his periscope sensor array and began scanning the area, paying close attention the large mound that the Oligard Estates main house has been.
“I think I see something. I’ll call in when I check it out.” The rambunctious droid quickly deployed his rocket boosters and zoomed off towards the blwn out ruins of Rath Oligards mansion in the distance.
As the set himself down, deployed his wheel trunchion and began rolling around the court yard of the Estate.
“Bingo! Nice!” The droid booped and whistled as his scanners picked up a constant, localized, low level EM field somewhere below him.“
After ‘hopping’ around the property and recharging his booster a few times, he was able to triangulate a probable location.
"Hey everyone, come quick, I think I found something. Bring digging tools!” Reece exclaimed over his commlink.
Karracca groaned as he finished sucking down one last drag of the deathstick Clem had provided.
He nodded at Miklik and growled, “Stay here and give iut the food and other supplies to the refugees.”
Miklik posed in a mock salute, “Yub yub.”
Along with the half dozen other taskings that Marick had dropped on the old Wookies plate, their teams primary job was to help provide food and other emergency relief supplies to the displaced civilians who called the Cor'neria system home.
The Brotherhood, in its implied infinite magnanymity, had decided to utilize a large portion of the old Oligard Estate as a logistics hub for the distribution of supplies and reuniting the ‘missing’ with their families.
Karracca made a brief stop at the modular prefab building they were planning to use as an equipment yard. A few minutes later he emerged from the makeshift garage riding atop a suped up repulsoor excavator and rode it up the ramp of the Century Hawks cargo hold. A moment later the ship took off and head for the ruins on the hilltop.
Clem watched the Hawk climb toward the ruins, deathstick bobbing between her lips. “Reece, buddy. Glowing things at the bottom of a hole? Never goes well. My gut says wait.” She paused. “Clem Fandango.”
She pressed a sealed water tester into Miklik’s paw before he could ask. “Check the lake before anyone drinks, yeah?”