The bustling hub of Coruscant, time and again galactic hub and den of iniquity, home to the best and worst the Galaxy had to offer. Alexandyr had been here countless times as he made progressive travels, charting systems, hunting down relics, and as he stalked slavers through the stars. This visit was no different than any of the others as he worked his way down the outer shell of what was once the Jedi Temple, seeking entrance to the Sith Temple buried beneath. It would be a weeks long experiment, plucking away at the outer defenses of the temple, scouring the various levels of the city, and spreading along the waterways, pipelines, and conduits that comprised the monolithic structure, but this is what drew him to the Collegium, the ability and free time to explore such avenues; yet something more seemed to garner his attention as he reached the lowest levels of the abyssal city. Somewhere near Level 50, far from the uninhabitable range of the city, but still where few would want to live, he found himself lost, his only guiding light a tug in The Force to a young Chiss Woman.
Siv was exhausted. She hadn’t been able to find work, and therefore food, for about a week now. The odd jobs she had done up till this point (a mixture of clean work, and not so clean work) had began to run out. There was no lack of people on Coruscant, just a lack of people wanting her. She had stooped to the lowest she could get, and even then she just wasn’t good enough.
The Chiss crawled from behind the dumpster that she had spent the night behind. There had been a gang war nearby, and the sound of blaster fire had rung out till just after sunrise. Sivall sat by the dumpster, trying to rub the sleep out of her eyes and wake up. She needed to get some money and something in her stomach. It had been five months since the Grants dropped her off on some random street, far from her home, with nothing but the clothes on her back.
In those five months, she had not gotten any closer to getting off the streets.
The Chiss woman pushed off on the ground and tried to rise to a standing position, but her legs would not move. No matter what she did, no matter how she tried to stand, her legs would not listen. Siv felt angry, frustrated tears fill her eyes. She had pushed on, survived off of sheer will, for this long– and now her body was failing her.
Work, she begged her legs, please work.
But they did not. Sivall gripped at the dirty and ratty tunic she wore as a tear rolled down her cheek, it was the only clothing on her minus the legging-like pants she wore. Her shoes had long since worn out. “Dammit…” She mumbled, her voice trembling with anger and sadness.
Alex watched her struggle for a moment, unsure, before he moved to assist her. Too often he had seen it, where bandits and slavers used women like her as bait, cast off in a road or alleyway and seemingly in distress and watched as they called for attention from some pious passerby, only to rob them blind. The man felt no such warning with her, instead her whimpering felt sincere. Crossing the causeway he knelt down beside the Chiss woman and placed his hand on her ankle.
“You hurt, or just hungry? Been on the streets too many times and I know that look.” He asked as he tried to stay in her direct line of sight and appear as non-threatening as possible.
His hand on her helped to solidify his instinctual Sense, this woman was another Force sensitive, and was drowning in the same despair he had been years ago.
The chiss woman flinched– the sensation of touch for most of her life had not been a pleasant one. Images of being slapped, being pinned under ice water, being bound to sit and suffer flashed in her mind; the memories set her on edge, causing whatever muscles would listen to tense up. But when she looked up, her eyes met kind emerald ones and she felt that tension leave her. Would this be her chance? Sivall rallied whatever strength was left inside of her to push the pitiful look off her face.
“Hungry…” She managed to croak out. The chiss woman cleared her throat and tried again. “Starving. Do… Do you know of any work? Anything at all? I’ll do anything…” She might have pushed the look of pitiful desperation off of her face but it was still present in her tone, in her body language. The Chiss shoved pale and dirty hands on the ground, righting herself into a more upright position so that she could properly look at Alexandyr.
She felt the pull of the force in him, even as weak as she was. There was very little she had actually learned from her owners, but this was one of them. She could sense the faint feeling of good from him, from light. Siv hoped that he would help, nearly pleaded in her mind, the thoughts hammering against her skull. Please help. Please help me. I don’t want to die here. Please. Anything. Please.
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Alexandyr’s gaze only hardened as he heard her soft voice crack at his question. His arm outstretched to help her from the ground while he tried to think of what to even say in this situation. Dozens of different things ran through his mind. Some better. Some worse.
“How about first we get your some good food and a shower, then I definitely have a job for you!” He said as his mind trailed back to the clan.
Even if he couldn’t take her under his wing by their own rules, he could at least get her a good place to stay and inducted into order so she didn’t die on the streets or worse end up enslaved again.
“I’m pretty sure I saw a good Hotel on the next level up, if you’ll join me.”
The man’s expression hardened and he began to move his arm, so Sivall readied herself to be hit. Had she been too desperate, too upfront? It wouldn’t be the first time, nor likely the last, that she had been struck for her tone or choice in words. The Chiss’s jaw set, ready for the impact, her body tensing… but the strike never came.
Instead the human’s hand floated, outstretched, reaching out to help her off the ground. The bewilderment in Sivall’s eyes was clear, her shock evident in the slight part between her indigo lips as her jaw went slightly slack.
Let’s get you some good food and a shower. Nothing could have sounded better.
Siv grabbed Alexandyr’s hand after a moment of hesitation, using his strength as he pulled her up so that she could finally stand.
“That sounds wonderful,” she replied, one side of her lips lifting slightly into a half-hearted smile. “My name is Sivall, by the way. Sivall Zoria.” The chiss woman teetered for a second as she straightened to her full height, her legs aching and begging for her to sit back down. But staying on the ground with the muck and garbage was a death sentence. Standing offered her a chance to live, a chance to do something, a chance to be something.
It was here that it was more apparent that the Chiss woman was worryingly slim, more so than most Chiss. Months of scrounging what she could had lessened her body weight and her muscle tone– the threadbare tunic she wore hung slightly on her body, like clothes a size too big for a hanger. Luckily for her, the cloth pants she sported were elastic in nature and still fit her relatively well, though they too had seen better days. Her raven hair was loose, a wavy mess that now framed her face, knotted in a few places. (brushing one’s hair was not a priority when you’re starving).
“If you’ll lead the way, I’ll follow.”
Alexandyr took her up and realized just how waifish she really was, too thin to survive long on the streets herself, and much too vulnerable in her current state. Emerald eyes looked her over before turning upward where he stared through the access tunnels and narrow causeways that led to the different levels of the megacity. He sighed as he felt her adjust her weight at his side. Her clothes fit her loosely and hung from her frame, pulled easily by the slightest motions, and threadbare, covered about as much as they exposed. It was going to be a long day.
“It sounds like the bare minimum anyone could ask for, I’m Alex. Alexandyr Douve.” He replied as he hoisted her closer to himself to help her keep steady on her feet.
As he guided her onward he took great strides to shorten his pace and keep her comfort in mind, slowing any time she expressed discomfort or ran short of breath. The eyes of others would fall on them as they made their way through the maze of the lower city, to which the ‘Jedi’ simply stared back at them, exposing his teeth at some who appeared ready to speak out.
“Sivall? Is that a shorthand? Don’ think I’ve ever heard of a Chiss name so forward and simple before.” The man nattered on, trying to make simple conversation and keep his own mind focused on something other than her state of being.
Alexandyr. She chewed on the name for a second, committing it to memory as the Brotherhood member helped her limp her way through the streets. He was a solid foot taller than her, maybe even more, and dwarfed her in comparison— but he was gentle. He didn’t drag or force her, he matched her pace.
“Ah, sort of. It’s… It’s what my owners named me.” Her red eyes stayed steadily focused on the path ahead of them: both because she might trip if she didn’t, but also in fear of what she might find on Alex’s face if she looked. Pity. Disgust. Those were the two most common, and they both hurt the same. Those expressions were the last thing she wanted to see on her newly minted savior’s face.
“I was born Zosi’val’ria, but only carried that name for four of my years before it was changed….” Her “true” name felt odd on her tongue, foreign. She hadn’t heard it in many years let alone spoke it herself. Perhaps she would have forgotten it all together if it wasn’t the only thing she had from before.
“Please do call me Sivall, it’s what I’m used to.” She concluded softly, slender fingers tightening on Alex’s sleeve fabric. She didn’t feel worthy of her Chiss name anyways— she didn’t grow up in that culture, never experienced it’s ups or downs. She looked like just about any other Chiss, but she wasn’t one. She was not one of her people.
“Zosi'val'ria or Sivall, I’ll call you whichever you identify yourself as. Life is short, painful, and our names are one of the few dignitities we have.” The Arconite mused as he motioned her into the building.
“Board for two, at least three nights. Will need delivery service, will gladly comp you extra for it.” He intoned as he locked eyes with the receptionist.
Once the clerk accepted payment, set up a room for them, and passed on a keycard Alexandyr thanked him and turned to the Chiss woman once more. He held the card out to her and smirked.
“Need me to help you to the room? Or can you get there on your own?”
“Sivall then, please.” She answered as Alexandyr lead her inside the hotel. She watched quietly as he acquired a room key for them– she had seen her father use a similar one, but the hotel they had been in had been much fancier. When he joked about her being able to make it to her room, she smiled softly and took the key from him.
“I think I can manage that. Thank you.” Hoping he was going to get some food, or perhaps information on this job he had mentioned, Sivall wordlessly shuffled off– her legs still somewhat weak. She got a little lost at first trying to find the room, the arrangement of the numbers on the door being somewhat confusing, but once she found the number that matched the number on the key she was able to make her way safely inside.
The interior of the room was what one would expect from a hotel on the lower levels of Coruscant. It was several levels of run-down and shabby, but it was safe and free from spider-roaches, so it was a win.
What do Chiss even eat? The man thought to himself, realizing he had only thought so many steps ahead of himself.
As he scoured vendors and machines to find an array of both hot and cold foods for the pair of them, he scrounged together a good assembly before making his way to the room. The man at the desk stared at him for a moment and questioned about the delivery service, if he was just going to get his own food.
“Do you know what Chiss eat?” He quipped, which made the man sit back and grab his own chin to ponder the question.
When was the last time anyone actually witnessed a Chiss eating actual food? Alexandyr questioned himself internally as he opened the door to their room and shimmied through the doorway towards the little kitchenette.
“I didn’t know what to have delivered, but if you’re as hungry as I am right now, I’m sure anything and everything sounds good.” He said as he tried to laugh it off, his insecurity clear as day.