spncentral | Of Sith And Street Rats

Between thinking it best to steer as far away from the Core as possible given the current regime, and needing repairs to his ship, he finds himself on some backwater planet in the middle of nowhere. Not only that, but so far as he could tell, there were only a handful of cities worth the name with one of them being the capital city. Which was also oh-so-imaginatively named Capital City. It seemed to be his best bet, so it was the one he chose to land at.

While his ship was undergoing repairs, he heads out into the city. The workers don't need him breathing down their necks, so he may as well see what, if anything, was of interest. So lightsaber firmly hidden in his jacket, and anything the mechanics didn't need access to firmly locked, he heads out. May as well start with the market. Wherever it is.

Current Mood: calm

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Ezra's mood lifts with that promise. It's not as much as he wants, but it's better than nothing at all. And maybe he can find something new every day to keep Garth'zel there a little bit longer.

Like an open book, it's easy to see when Ezra's expression changes to something a little happier, more hopeful, if still tempered by disappointment. "I'll come back tomorrow," he promises, coming to a decision he hadn't settled completely on yet. But Garth'zel's been nothing but kind to him, and Ezra's been around him long enough now that he doesn't think it's a trick. (The promise of money and more food helps, too. One good meal, or even two, just doesn't erase the memory of desperation, or fatten up a child who's still way too thin.) "Will you a'member by tomorrow?"

"I'll remember," Garth'zel says with a nod. "I'll just need some time to wake up properly first."

In other words, try not to show up too early in the morning. Let him have time to drink some caf and wake up. Although he'll hold off on making breakfast. May as well not only make food for the both of them at the same time but time it so Ezra's will still be hot.

"Okay," Ezra agrees. He figures he can scrounge for breakfast before he comes over and that that should be plenty of time for Garth'zel to wake up. (Whether or not he'll have any luck finding food is another question, but it's one he'll worry about tomorrow.)

With that settled, Ezra reaches to turn the dejarik table back on. They still have a little time before his clothes are dry, so they might as well play another game.

...a game he's losing (again) when their time is up, though maybe not quite as badly as he's lost the other games. Ezra puffs out his cheeks in childish frustration. "This game is too hard."

"You're just inexperienced," Garth'zel corrects. "When you were learning to tie your shoelaces, did you give up and say it was too hard or keep trying until you got it right?"

Time to make a point.

"Tying my shoes is lots less hard than this," Ezra argues. It's not a fair comparison at all. "An' I don't gotta beat anyone better than me. It's just shoelaces."

Time to get used to fighting to make those points, Garth'zel.

"Tying them was still something new you had to learn. And you are getting better at this. You just aren't seeing it because you still lost. But it took you longer to do so than previous times. That's improvement." Garth'zel isn't giving up on his point.

"I still lost though." But his discouragement is lessening a little bit now, his mood responding to Garth'zel's praise. Praise from adults is a rare, rare thing. It feels good to hear someone say good things about him. Even if he thinks he might not deserve it. "So it doesn't matter, right?"

"If you were in a professional competition, no. But you're playing it with me as learning how to do so. So it does." Even as he speaks he turns off the table. "Time to check on your clothes so you can change back into them."

And give him his shirt back. Although he's probably going to leave it in the crew quarters so Ezra can have something to wear to bed if he were to decide to spend the night the next day.

Ezra's still not sure he's convinced, but the change in subject distracts him from any further argument. He gets down from his chair, hiking his borrowed shirt up his shoulder again, and follows the Zabrak out of the lounge so he can reclaim his clothes.

Clean clothes, he discovers a few minutes later, smell really, really different from what he's grown used to. And they look different, too. There's no dirt or stains! (Well, a lot fewer stains.) It's almost hard to believe they're the same clothes he had on earlier.

And they're warm. Warm and soft in his arms, just fresh out of the dryer. Standing there, Ezra hugs them up close, marveling at the feeling, and forgetting that he's supposed to get changed.

"Are these really mine?"

"Considering that I doubt someone snuck on board to replace your clothes in the wash, yes," Garth'zel says, amused. "You remember where the 'fresher is so you can change back into them?"

Well, when Garth'zel puts it like that, no, it doesn't seem likely at all. More likely would be Garth'zel switching them, but even that doesn't seem plausible. This is just what it's like to have clean clothes, as novel as that is.

Ezra nods and scampers off to go change - and sure enough, when he does pull his clothes back on, they're definitely his, with holes in all the right places. They're just clean and no longer stiff with grime. On his way back to Garth'zel, his footsteps slow, though, until he shuffles to a stop once he's there.

"I guess it's time to go," he says, feeling strangely reluctant. Will it all be a dream if he leaves and comes back? Will Garth'zel still be here tomorrow? "I'll see you later?"

"You will," Garth'zel agrees, heading to the ship's ramp and tilting his head in its direction to indicate that Ezra should follow him. "I'll do some exploring to get a general idea of the layout of the area and look for some things I could use. Try not to steal anything over the next few days so I won't have to get you out of trouble, hmm?"

Try not to steal anything. The look Ezra gives him then is one laced full of doubt. Does this guy know how hard it is to live on the streets without stealing? If Ezra could sustain himself just off of begging and scraps from garbage cans, they probably never would have met in the first place, since Ezra wouldn't have tried pickpocketing him. He doesn't say that, though. He doesn't want Garth'zel to think that badly of him. So...

"Okay," he says simply as he follows behind. "But don't explore too much, okay? 'Cause it's gonna be my job to show you, remember?" Just in case Garth'zel's forgotten.

Once they're at the ramp, he once again has to battle reluctance to take those first steps once it's lowered. He glances back up at Garth'zel, as though waiting for one last confirmation.

"I know, but better that I find where I can buy more food if I'm going to be feeding both of us, yes?"

That way, he can get the food put away reasonably quickly instead of potentially carrying it around for hours. With a side of his commentary serving as a reminder that Ezra's going to get regular meals for the next few days.

That reminder is an important one, because Ezra hadn't quite connected that he was really going to be fed. Garth'zel can probably tell that, too, by the way the little boy's face lights up.

Congratulations, Garth'zel, you've just guaranteed that Ezra's going to have a hard time not coming too early.

"There's a- a market if you go down the street from the space port an' get on the transport that says Fair Street," he says. "There's people with buns an' fruit and jogans and... and lots of food." He's being helpful, not making suggestions, honest. It's just that that's what his mind jumps to first.

"All right," Garth'zel says with a nod. "Anything I fix will probably be a little heavier on meat than you're used to since Zabraks need more than humans do. But I'll make sure to get a decent amount of the other things as well."

Which is where Ezra's suggestions come in, to make sure there's a source of nutrients a growing human needs.

"I like meat too," Ezra says quickly. It's just more expensive, harder to steal, and doesn't keep as well as bread and fruit. "Loth-rat pie's the best!" Just in case Garth'zel's never had that local dish before.

The talk about food has its intended effect, though, leaving Ezra feeling better about leaving and coming back. He takes a step down the ramp, then pauses for just a moment. "I put your box back on the 'fresher counter." He'd briefly thought about keeping it, but at eight years old, he hasn't become so much of a thief that he'd steal from someone who's been nice to him. Even if it would be really nice to have a box like that. Then he takes off down the ramp, pockets full of food that he can have for dinner tonight - and with his little heart more full of hope than he's felt in a long, long time.

While Garth'zel was out doing his bit of exploring, he did indeed get plenty of food to make sure there was enough stocked in the galley to feed the both of them.

Then in the morning, he's sitting at the top of the ramp of his ship, sipping at a cup of caf as he waits for Ezra to put in an appearance. Then and only then will he make breakfast.

You'd think Ezra would show up pretty quickly, wouldn't you, what with the promise of food. Maybe he even would have been out there waiting before Garth'zel even got up. But breakfast time comes... and passes. Half an hour, an hour... And still there's no sign of a hungry little boy.

What will Garth'zel do?

Empty cup rinsed out and left in the sink and the ship locked up tight later, Garth'zel heads out in search of Ezra, stretching out with his senses to find whatever trace of the boy's presence in the Force he can.

The traces are there to be found. He's definitely not dead, and not in that much distress, even if his emotions do vibrate with frustration, worry, and stress. There may still be some alarm, though, when the trail leads Garth'zel to an Imperial compound.

Inside the compound, Ezra yells and kicks at the door to the room he's been locked up in. "You better let me go!" he shouts to whoever might be listening. "I didn't do nothin' to that guy at the stall! When my dad finds out I'm here, he's gonna be mad! An'- An' you'll be sorry!"

Deep down, though, he's the one afraid here. What if Garth'zel thinks he changed his mind and leaves because Ezra never showed up?

Garth'zel gets led to the compound by following his sense of Ezra's presence. He pauses outside it, trying to decide how to handle things before just walking up to the guard at the entrance. "Excuse me, but I have reason to believe that a child I hired to do some things for me may be here. He's human, eight years old, and has black hair and blue eyes."

As he speaks, he exerts mental pressure on the stormtrooper to make him inclined to actually be helpful.

Stormtroopers have never really been known for mental resistance, and when faced with such a reasonable inquiry, this one is no different.

"Yeah, we had a kid like that arrested and brought here," the trooper supplies. "He's been accused of stealing from the Empire. Still in custody, as far as I know."

"Oh for--" Garth'zel covers his eyes with one hand for a moment. "I'm sure that the worst he would have done would have been to steal some food from someone's market stall so he wouldn't starve. I also doubt he actually would have done so, since he knew I was going to feed him as that's part of his pay."

"Could you find out where he is and have someone who can actually leave their post take me to him to find out if he actually did anything or if the person accusing him was just being paranoid?" Along with taking his employee with him.

"I wouldn't know the details," the stormtrooper says. "Higher ups will get it sorted out." One way or another. Either way, it's not his problem what happens to one scrawny street kid. "Wait a minute while I call someone up to take you there."

And about a minute is all it takes for another trooper to arrive to take Garth'zel to the room Ezra's being kept in - just in time to hear Ezra still yelling.

"-an' if you don't let me go, my uncle the Emperor is gonna come down an' lock you all up!"