Veshi
The Stranger
CORUSCANT UNDERCITY, A'KAESH DISTRICT
"Veshi.." The blood-haired youth ignored his companion, holding a single finger in the air. The air in the Undercity had taken some getting used to for the young Kiffar at first, having spent most of his childhood on various spaceships. Those ships were as different from each other as Hutt coins were from Galactic credits, but the air had been the same. Cold, thin and easy to breathe. The air here was different; hot and thick with smog. Yes, it had taken some getting used to, but that had been five years ago. Now the air of the Undercity was as natural to Veshi as the grime and soot that had dulled his blood red hair to the colour of damp rust. The air that could be found in space-faring vessels was long forgotten, just like his other childhood memories. They were pressed down to the bottom of the deep barrel that was his psyche ... not completely forgotten, but not remembered either. Survival was his creed now, and his brain functioned perfectly in order to do that. It was quick, cluey and suspicious of others. Because of that, he had survived into his mid-teens when most street rats in A'Kaesh did not. And he had survived well."Veshi-" Veshi cut off the young Twi'lek girl with an impatient wave of his hand. He perched silently on the upper ledge of the base of one of Coruscant's tallest skyscrapers, but he didn't know that. Beyond a certain level, Veshi knew nothing. He knew the streets though, and knew that this ledge provided a perfect vantage point from which to watch the cantina across the street. So he watched quietly. The Kiffar youth was as still as the ledge he perched on, and when he spoke he did not look away from the cantina.
"Can you read, Cold Soup?" Veshi's voice was calm, so much so it was almost silent.
"No, Veshi." The young Twi'lek held back a measure in incredulity. There weren't many street rats who could read. That was an opportunity that they had not been afforded.
"Hmmm.." The young Kiffar pondered that quietly. "Well, the right words can be more valuable than credits to the right person."
The Twi'lek girl, who couldn't have been any more than eleven, had nothing to say to that. She was hungry. They all were, and in that state a bit of wisdom was a lot less interesting than a cred chit or a hot meal. Veshi knew that as well as anyone ... he just realised that a bit of wisdom led to more cred chits and more hot meals. It was simple logic, but one that escaped most that shared his predicament. The young Kiffar did not blame them. He'd been there too; young, hungry and desperate. He still was, in some ways. But not as much as he had been. He now had twenty credits in his rainy-day fund ... a veritable fortune by his standards, and much more than anyone else in A'Kaesh.
"See that Sullustan?" Veshi's ears pricked up as he noticed his target exit the cantina, datapad in hand. "I want you to follow him, find out where he sleeps, then watch the place. Send someone for me and I'll come to meet you there."
Veshi palmed the girl a half-cred chit. Paying up front had its advantages, especially now that the more dishonest street rats knew what happened when one tried to take advantage of Veshi's generosity. A human boy named Poke had taken his chit and done a runner ... but if anyone could find out where the boy slept at night, it was Veshi. The young Kiffar had burned everything the boy owned in revenge, which in turn had attracted Coruscant Sec's attention. Veshi had learned from that too, but still, no one tried him anymore. Patting Cold Soup on the shoulder, the blood-haired youth swung down from the ledge and faded into the shadows. He had that knack. Everyone knew Veshi, but one could rarely find him. That was a useful talent in a business like this, where a famous information broker usually ended up a dead one.
Fifteen minutes later, Veshi was at his usual begging post after business hours, the doorway of a dodgy Atrisian noodle restaurant. The Kiffar youth didn't really need to beg anymore, but he did so anyway. Mostly out of habit, and to keep up appearances ... it was routine, and he didn't want anyone getting any ideas regarding Veshi and credits. Someone might try something, and he might not be able to stop them. So he sat in the doorway, pulling his blanket around his shoulders with his begging bowl lying in front of him, and began to rest.
One eye remained open.
[member="Darth Janus"]