The Cat Knows Where It's At
Carved out in the Imperial Sector of Nar Shaddaa, was Little Seoul. Not to be confused with the ever-popular and overplayed Little Atrisia several neighboring sectors over. Little Seoul was filled with Seoularians stuck in the Core doing what they could to get by. The sounds of speeders and shuttles choked the airwaves, what little sound remained was fought over by conversation, song, and advertisements. Each one trying to be louder than the other, wet streets where leaking pipes flooded waste and sewage into the alleyways. Dilapidated droids with motors that could scarcely function did their best to clean it up. Shacks occupied drier spots in the alley, the main streets were packed with vendors and people. First Imperial Stormtroopers were guarding one vendor, an officer with the First Order's immigration system.
It was clear the officer was overworked, but there was little support out there for him. A few stalls over and it was the Royal Seoularians working to help get their people back home. It was a rough go, and from the dirty, scorched marked armor the troopers wore - no one was paid enough in any currency to do their jobs. Even so, there were still sounds of delight, singing of folk songs. Little Seoul had its good neighborhoods the affluent and wealthy living in their glittering towers above them, while the rest slummed it out on the lower levels. Somewhere in between the shit falling down and the crap rising - the supposed middle class who in reality, were only just above the poverty line.
Along one of the main avenues where paper lanterns swung in damp, musky air where incense burned strongly but not quite strong enough. A food court with the kitchens facing inward and the stalls outside, in a square-like shape. Tteokbokki rolled deep in gochujang sauces, tempura fried rolls, seafood and veggies, handmade soups with a variety toppings, bibimbap served in hot stone bowls. The shouts in Seoulian of the latest happenings in the war, and there among the people along the ambulatory aisles of the food court an IG-88 droid with a small orange felinoid creature on its shoulder. Haggling with a customer over the price of a ship, "if the price is not agreeable, you can move on."
The customer decided to raise their hands, the IG-88 stunned the man. "Next," called the droid, summoning the next customer.