Foothold
Competition Entry
Seer Raziel
Clan Odan-Urr
House Sunrider
Pin 11584
“Raz, why are we here?” Soona asked, looking at him with the most puzzled expression on her face as they walked along the suspension bridge connecting the small spaceport attached to the mountain with the rest of the settlement. It, like the many others in Foothold, had seen far better days, and the way it swayed in the mountain wind didn’t seem to fill her with much confidence. “Are we trading?”
Raz shook his head, the gesture coming a moment or two later than it should have. He was still getting used to actually emoting for the benefit of the ‘sighted’. “No, this is actual business for the clan. It’s uh, cultural?”
“Cultural? We’re anthropologists now? It’s safer than how you usually make money, but why’d you agree?”
“Tzugura, there’s still volumes about me you don’t know,” Raziel snickered. Not even in his customary Jensaairai armor, he looked considerably more at ease than she did. “And you’re about to ask me to explain that.”
“Am I that transparent?” She asked, her small lavender hand gripping the handrail so tightly her knuckles were turning a deep violet. “Or was it the Force? Because if it was me being transparent, there’s a blind joke there.”
Raziel smirked and gave a shrug, neither action looking perfectly correct. “So my Jensaarai training wasn’t just lifting rocks and reading minds. Remember the whole spiel about the Living Force?”
Soona nodded, which prompted him to continue. “Well, we’re all part of it. Everything is connected at the deepest level. Through the Force, you and I are as much a part of some midwife on the lowest levels of Nar Shadda as her own family. The best way to understand that is to experience the universe.”
“So, you’re saying we’re here for a working vacation?”
“Yeah, that’s a fair way to put it. Besides, these are some of the most industrious people in the sector. They’ve been handed garbage and they’ve made all of this. The word around Kiast is the art produced here is a sleeper trend too. Might as well invest when the prices are still affordable.”
Soona shook her head in resignation, sending her headtails swinging. “A blind art dealer,”
“There’s the blind joke!” Raziel said in victory for her. “Okay, here we are, watch your step,” he added, casually avoiding the lip onto the next platform.
“Togruta, remember? My spatial awareness is probably better than yours Raz,”
“Stang, right. What do you see?”
“Everything is pieced together, like you said. I’m seeing shipping containers, chunks of busted up freighters, there’s what looks like part of an actual boat over there too. Everything is either flat Imperial gray or beautiful gradients of rust. The people, well, they actually look pretty okay,”
“That’s the vibe I’m getting, glad we agree. There’s pride here too, strong and fierce.” Raziel replied, taking everything in with his senses, both physical and with the Force. “They’re curious about us.”
“The stares said a lot of the same thing. Are we just moseying around?”
“No, we’re meeting someone. A human man named Shin Paradeuce. He said he’d keep an eye on the spaceport and meet up with us to guide us. Apparently there’s a pretty big disconnect in food quality here. The right diner is amazing, and the wrong one is a night hugging the refresher. I know I don’t want to make that mistake.”
Soona grimmaced and kept taking in the sights. People were out and about, despite the chill in the air. The exhaust from the repulsors keeping several sections of the city aloft blew a warm wind past on occasion but it wasn’t enough to really make things comfortable, it only served to guide foot traffic along more comfortable routes.
Predominately Sephi, like most of Kiast, there were intermingled other species. Mostly humans, but of course there were also a considerable share of what looked like half-breeds as well. All were dressed appropriately, and as could be expected, fashion took a back seat to functionality. Something that stood out to her was their hair. As a member of a hairless species, the way that many hairy species wore their aforementioned hair was fascinating to her, and the people of Foothold were no exception.
Almost nobody wore their hair short, and after a few minutes she also noticed that when two people seemed close enough to assume a romantic relationship, the males would keep their hair in a high topknot, while the females would wear a long braid. Other people wore their hair down but decorated with clipped-in ornaments.
“Hello there!” A friendly voice called from behind them. Soona turned, waited a second, and then put her hand on Raziel’s shoulder, reminding him that he should physically face the person addressing them.
“Shin Paradeuce?” Raziel asked once he’d oriented himself correctly.
“Yessir, that’s me,” Shin replied. “I’m here to be your guide.”
“Your accent, it’s nothing local. Where you from?” Raziel asked, hearing something distinct in the way the man spoke.
“Alderaan,” Shin answered. “Moved here after I deserted the Empire. I’ll give you three guesses why,”
“And the first two don’t count, I got you,” Raziel replied. It had been a little over thirty years since that planet’s destruction, an event he’d felt as a teenager, leaving him near catatonic for the better part of a day. He wasn’t inclined to discuss it any more than Shin likely was. “So, food?”
Shin gestured towards another suspension bridge. “You brought your appetite as well as your aide I take it,”
“I’m not his aide,” Soona interjected tiredly. At least he’d said aide. Seeing Eye alien was her least favorite of the misunderstandings she’d gotten since tying her star to Raziel’s. “Just along for the ride.”
“Sure thing miss. I should mention, because of the altitude and the atmosphere, game is pretty rare, the people here rely mostly on hydroponics and resequenced protein blocks for food. Fresh meat isn’t in high supply.”
“Lovely,” Soona muttered wryly. That’s all she needed, another bout of intestinal distress from vegetable poisoning.
“Oh, don’t be too worried, it just means lunch is going to run a little higher a tab, and if you’re staying a while, you might want to consider alternative means of nutrition. I’m guessing Miraluka are omnivorous?”
“Yeah, I can eat whatever,” Raziel piped up. “So, since we intentionally showed up around lunchtime, and further conveniently neglected to eat, let’s head towards an eatery. Best way to learn about people is to eat their food.”
Shin gestured towards another suspension bridge, this one looking like it was made from harvested TIE solar panels, including wiring which indicated the bridge was probably also generating power as well. “The diner I’m taking you to is owned by my father-in-law, so we’ll get a fair deal. Non-locals tend to get gouged a little bit. As you might imagine, there’s not a lot of creds cycling through the economy. Most of the money we make tends to the upkeep of the repulsors, mag-chains, and the gas sifters.”
“Can’t you sell the gases you skim to keep your city safe?” Raziel asked, curious as to why they weren’t profiting off of the material they had to skim to maintain their own safety.
“Legally, no. The planetary government claims one hundred percent of the resources, so anything we skim, we’re required by law to turn into the environmental authorities. We’re not subject to taxes on this property though, so I guess in a roundabout way, we are selling the gases off.” Shin shrugged, and then waved at a group of people that walked past.
“Friends of yours?” Soona asked.
“Neighbors,” Shin answered. “Looked like they were heading to the holodrome to take in whatever they’ve got to show. If they’re very very lucky, whatever it was might have even been filmed sometime after the Clone Wars.”
“I’m beginning to see what you all have to contend with,” Raziel replied, still just taking in everything he could. “Soona, what have you seen that you wanna know about?”
Soona took that as her cue, figuring he could sense the curiosity within her. “All of the hair here,” she began, and then paused when Shin nodded at her.
He stopped and pointed towards what looked like a small family in front of a shipping container turned secondhand clothing store. “Okay, so married means topknots and braids, but there’s room to be clever. I hate the way a topknot feels so I wear a ponytail instead. In the case of a married couple, hair is worn down at home.
“If you’re dating or engaged, you put ornaments in your hair. Since they can be made out of tiny bits of scrap there’s plenty of people willing to make matched sets. The real romantics make them as gifts for one another.
“Single folk are recognized by wearing their hair down, or wearing multiple braids or ties. Basically anything that isn’t set aside for someone else. The exception to that are widows, in which case women braid their scalp and let the rest hang, and men either tie or bun their scalps. Raz, that’d be you right now.”
Raziel patted the messy bun in his hair and undid it, letting his iron mane spill free. No reason to false advertise. “What about other species?”
“Well, we don’t have many of those, and we’re a small community, so the ones who can’t advertise have their business spread across town. Oh, and the people with short hair all work factory or machinery where it isn’t safe to wear long hair. Since they’re so crucial to keeping us alive and sustained there’s no judgment or anything.”
“Soona, anything else?” Raziel asked, remaining open to the Force.
“Yeah, I’m pretty sure the Bothawui Shades lost the Galactic Smashball Open, why’s that guy wearing a shirt claiming they were the winner’s last year?”
“Yeah, that. Well, like I said, we’re a really poor community so take what we can get. In this case, merchandise is made for both teams so they’re available for sale immediately. The things made for the losing team are sold off dirt cheap since they’re incorrect. We get most of our stuff that way.” Shin answered.
“It’s a common practice,” Raziel added, stopping for a minute to re-strap his boot. “Secondhand and functionally ‘useless’ items getting shipped off to make some kind of return on investment. That’s why merchandise at events like that is so expensive, it offsets the costs to make the stuff they can’t use.”
Shin murmured an agreement. “Exactly. We’re here at the diner, by the way,”
“Thank the stars,” Soona grumbled.
“For such a small thing you’re always hungry.” Raziel quipped at her.
“Big metabolism, small stomach,” she retorted and looked at Shin. “It smells fantastic, I’m looking forward to this.”
Shin opened the door for them, a metal bell dinging off-key to announce their entry. “Don’t get too excited, the place is good for here, but quality ingredients are hard to come by.”
A banged up server droid greeted them the minute they entered. “Grab a seat wherevah,” she said in a sassy Rim accent, clearly programmed by someone who’d seen too many holos.
She rolled up to them once they’d taken a seat and turned towards Shin. “Mistah Shin, whaddya havin’? You want the usual?”
“Yeah, sounds good. Any fresh meat today?”
“Got some fish from the rivah stream,” She answered, her hand moving a stylus that was purely for show over a small datapad that was equally for show. “Yer Pops is fryin’ it up for folks.”
When Shin glanced at his guests, the both of them nodded, prompting him to answer. “Two fish plates for my friends here,” he ordered and then leaned towards the two of them. “The fried tubers are phenomenal here, they grow wild on the mountains. I’d stay away from the aioli sauce salad though.”
“I heard that Mistah Shin,” the droid piped up. “But you ain’t wrong. Caf’s for everyone comin’ up.”
Once the droid delivered their Caf, the trio continued their conversation. “There’s some kids staring at you Raz,” Soona pointed out. “Your saber dangling off your belt?”
Raziel patted his hip where that very thing Soona had predicted turned out to be true. “Stang,” he swore quietly. A visible lightsaber was not the kind of attention he wanted. Without his armor he wasn’t nearly the imposing figure either, so the kids she’d noticed were a lot bolder than they might have otherwise been.
“Hey mister,” one of the Sephi children asked, approaching him. “Are you a Jedi?”
Raziel shook his head and remembered to turn and face the kid. “No kid, I’m no Jedi. My little sister makes props for theater, she made it for me and I can’t not wear it, she’d be heartbroken.”
The kid looked disappointed at that. “Oh, okay. Sorry to bother you Mister,”
Something about the kid’s aura and his tone of voice gave Raziel pause. “You looking for a Jedi’s help or something kid?”
“Yeah, my Dad is sick and I heard Jedi can heal people,” he replied, and turned to walk away.
“Now hold up a minute. I’m not a Jedi, but I used to be a medic back during the war. I might still be able to help.” Raziel offered. “How sick is he?”
Suddenly feeling much more positive, the kid answered him promptly. “He can’t work, he’s in bed all day except to go to the refresher and take a shower. He doesn’t eat much and he’s hurting a bunch.”
Hoping to get the answer he wanted, Raziel risked asking his next question. Force healing could seriously take it out of a guy and he needed the fuel. If he could eat, all the fat and carbs from the fried fish and tubers wouldn’t matter a bit at all. “How long has he been sick?”
“A couple of weeks. Mom’s been working extra shifts here to help.”
“What’s your name kid?” Raziel asked, deciding he could afford the time to eat.
“Klinto,” he replied. “Klinto Meetra.”
“Okay Klinto, I’m going to eat my lunch. While I’m eating, let your mom know I’m willing to help, okay?”
“Yessir!” Klinto answered and skittered off, quick as a shot.
“I can’t take you anywhere, can I?” Soona asked, not at all surprised at his willingness to help. In the short time she’d known him, it was just his way.
“No you really can’t,” Raziel agreed. “Shin, you don’t seem surprised.”
“I’m not, and I don’t know what you’ll be able to do for him. Daz Meetra works skimming gas. His lungs are probably more lesion than healthy tissue by now, like most of the skimmers. He needs long-term bacta treatment, but it’s expensive.”
“Long term Bacta is expensive for a lot of people. I’ll do the best I can for him, but this is going to take some work. Who’s in charge of Foothold?”
Shin shook his head. “We’re a functional anarchy. Nobody is in charge. We police our own, make decisions by vote, and generally don’t bother with much else besides survival. When the planetary government demands to speak to the mayor, someone will volunteer long enough to look the part and then go back to whatever they were doing before the government showed up.”
“I can’t promise any Jedi involvement here Shin, it’s not why I’m here, but I promised a report and all this is going in it. Push come to shove, I’ll steal a Bacta shipment, I don’t care. You’ve got a medical droid or two?”
“Yeah, couple of Two One Bees, if they’re operational.”
“I can fix those too,” Raziel offered and then faced Soona. “Better get comfortable tzugera, we might be here for a bit.”