The Obsolete [Asher]

[The Undertaker]

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Warehouse District
Coruscant

[member="Asher"]

They were a good hundred block away from the Kitchen, deep in the heart of the old warehouses on level 1313. Most of these buildings were obsolete or given up letting run into disrepair for many reasons, and it had become a waste land of sorts, of falling metal and rusted. A lot of homeless people came here to find shelter, a place to sleep and take up as their own until Coruscant Security did their annual sweep to clear them out. It was only temporary of course, as soon as CSF was gone, they would simply move back in.

From behind an old crate, Pickles peeked. “Over there”, she pointed out one of the warehouses that was boarded up. She liked to travel the back alleys, they were the safest for her, so it took much longer to get to this point. She tugged at Asher’s shoulder for him to pop up too and take a look. “Not been used for years”, she added.

Asher was looking for a place to stack stuff, the nature of what was unknown to Pickles but she knew better than to ask. Asher was the only person she trusted completely, although the staff at the Kitchen were nice and gave her soup, which most of the time was packed with meat and vegetables and very little broth. But it filled her belly.

“Security is not coming around here much anymore, and I can get you in”. It was dark place, little among of street lighting and simply no colour to anything here. Lifeless and what life there was, was drained. There were some people on the streets, the lost and without hope and they walked that way. Like they could not see or had no where to go. They walked slow without purpose because they didn’t have purpose anymore.


They were the forgotten. Just like the vent rats.

 

[Asher]

[member="Pickles"]

How many years had it been at this point? Nearly a decade and an extra half? The time when Asher had fit in the ventilation shafts of the lower levels had passed as he grew older. He knew the danger it made kids adapt to and the horrors they had seen. They had friends lost to age as they grew too big to fit in the shafts, as well as friends who had gotten decimated by the system internals. Yet ironically enough there were few places on the lower levels that was as safe for children as the vents were.

With the tap on his shoulder Asher let his eyes peer over the crate towards the warehouse. It was big, most likely able to fit the goods that they needed to store. Getting the items there inconspicuously from port could have been a challenge but nothing that was impossible. Though a good start, something about storing all items in one place struck Asher as a generally bad idea. It was too easy to lose everything over something trivial like forgetting to lock the door.

“I don’t doubt that for a second.” Asher said and exhaled with a silent chuckle. He turned his attention towards the young girl with a warm smile. “Good job, P.”

He would have ruffled her hair, but he knew far better than to kick the hornet’s nest. A vent rat with a vengeance? Asher quite liked having filtered air in his living quarters. Pickles wasn’t very likely to do that, hopefully, but even rats had their days.

Standing up Asher began to approach the warehouse through the alleyway.

“Did you ever find that place in the vents that I told you about?” He asked Pickles as they walked. When he had been one of the rats he had once come across a quiet section where the rats didn’t go too often. It was close enough to one of the chemical plants that it warranted caution, but if warded well enough you were granted a place of solitude in an otherwise hostile real estate market where privacy wasn't necessarily an option.

“Figured if it was still around it would have been a good place for you to stay.”

 

[The Undertaker]

As they walked and approached the end of the alleyway, Pickles stopped and peered around the corner looking to see if the coast was clear and all she saw was one figure at the end of the street walking way. There was no security in sight, not even a droid that floats in the air poking around in places it is not wanted.

“Yeap”, she said, “Smelly though”, she added but she liked the place Asher found for her, it was warmer and drier, and she was alone not worried by the other rats that started to infringe upon her space.

To the younger rats she was an adult and they started to see her as a threat. Life can be ruthless in the vents, it must be in order to survive it. The time would come when Pickles would have to leave that place too and find somewhere to live and make a living that did not require stealing. Her luck would run out one day, it was only a matter of time.

When she deemed the it was safe to cross the street she went at a trot, best not linger in open space if you can help it. The opposite alleyway ran alongside the warehouse he had picked for Asher, half way down was a door with a rusted lock that would not take much effort to pick, in fact Asher could probably kick it in and it would give way, but that would make a loud noise. Pickles did not like loud noise.

She set about working the lock, her tongue poking out of her mouth as she concentrated on her work and before long, that tell tale click sounded her success and the door opened with a creak. Pickles looked up at Asher, she was not going in first. The warehouse had no energy source for lighting, that had died long ago, so the door opened into darkness.

“How did you get out of the vents?”, she suddenly asked, curious as to how someone does and by the look of Asher, he had done well for himself.

At least by her standards.

[member="Asher"]​

 

[Asher]

[member="Pickles"]

Smelly was an accurate description for that section of the vents, but then so was it for the rest of the level too. Asher followed behind Pickles trying not to look too suspicious, but it was a fairly tall guy and a child heading into a dark alley. He gave her some space, enough to break the improper visuals and then let her get to work on the door.

“You know I could just kick-” He said but was cut short by the click of the lock opening. “Or not.”

The question asked caught him off-guard. Asher hadn't gotten out as much as been forced out. Not because of age but because he didn’t play by their rules. It was bullcrap, all of it. The idea in his mind about looking out for one another had always been there, at least for as long as he could remember. It was counterbalanced by his understanding of the need to fight for survival, it was for everyone down here, but the belief that things would get better had always been hard for him to just drop.

“I suppose I just sort of left at some point.” Asher said and shrugged. “You will find that the older you get, the more the other kids start to mistrust you. Hard to sleep when people are breathing down your neck to leave.”

“I just got lucky that it was Old Lady Meerna that found me and not someone else.” He said, a wide grin spreading on his lips as he patted Pickles on the back. “Luckily, you found me. The second best thing. It’s all downhill from here.”

 

[The Undertaker]

As they entered the wareshouse, Pickles pulled out a torch from her thread bare jacket and turned it on. The light of it getting dull as the energy source was waning but it was enough to see for the most part. There were sounds, but from small rodent creatures that had made this place home, and did not like the intrusion, there were no such things as avian here, Pickles had never seen one in her life to know what that was anyway, but rats and other rodents she had. It was dirty and grimy and the air stall, which did not bother her at all, this she was used to. "See, nothing here".

Her mind contemplated his words, "They already are", she simply said, the children of the vents had grown bolder where she was concerned and Pickles was feeling the pressure to move again, they had found the place Asher had shown her and wanted it for themselves. It was only a matter of time before she was pushed out of it. Nothing had really changed for Pickles, save for meeting Asher, but she was still on the streets trying to make do with what she had or what she could get when the opportunity presented itself. But she was getting bigger and that started to limit her ability to steal, especially from unsuspecting people and their pockets, she was more noticeable.

"Down hill?", she looked at him as if in disbelief. "There is some place lower?", how could it get any worse from the vents? how could someone get so bad in life that the vents were a haven. Then she remembered the figure on the street just now, that was was worse and the idea of that did not appeal to her at all.

"If you like this place, maybe I could stay here. Look after whatever it is you want to hide". That would be so bad would it? Pickles tolerated Asher patting her back, but she would not show effection, it was something she had never experienced and therefore did not know how to take it, or how to give it.

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[member="Asher"]​

 

[Asher]

[member="Pickles"]

The vague light of the torch made the state of the warehouse apparent. At least as apparent as Asher needed it to be. Perhaps not all about Old Lady Meerna’s strict anti-filth policy had been great. There was much work to be done in order to have this place cleaned out properly, but then again maybe that wasn’t what they wanted. If Pickles was to stay here Asher wouldn’t be comfortable with leaving it this dirty. It meant respiratory problems if you let it get too bad. Vent rats might have inhaled more hazardous substances than anyone would feel comfortable with children taking in, but that didn’t change how Asher felt about it.

Pickles was the closest thing he had to a sister. It was a bit of a one-sided thing, at least so it felt at times — such as now. But that didn’t change the fact that Asher had once been in her shoes and he knew the kind of fears and worries that could be going through her mind. He respected her need to be alone, but he also refused to let her forget that at the very least she had one other person out there rooting for her. Being a vent rat coming out of the vents was the hardest transition and undoubtedly the point where many of them went wrong. He was well-aware of Pickles’ abilities as a pickpocket and in reality he didn’t care. There were bigger and worse crimes to care for, lawlessness was one of the more liberating aspects of the lower levels and in truth Asher wouldn’t have wanted it gone no matter what.

It made his struggle on other spectrums of his life a bit more difficult. On one hand he wanted order and peace, but on the other hand he also relished the simplicity of his existence. It opened the simplest of doors to the most complex situations. That wasn’t a bad thing, but it also wasn’t a very good thing. So, how could there be any place lower than this?

Asher looked at Pickles as she asked if she could stay here, signalling to him that the time to leave the vents might have come. He continued to look at her with a clearly bothered expression settling across his face. He resisted the urge to kneel down and place his hand on her shoulders. She wouldn’t have appreciated it, something told him.

“Pickles…” He said and scratched at the scruff of his beard. His brows furrowed as he tried to think of what to say. “What do you know about the plan me and Abbie are setting up?”

It clearly bothered Asher to some extent.

 

[The Undertaker]

As she grew more confident that the coast was clear, and they were alone in the warehouse, Pickles began to move about and 'inspect' the place looking for anything of value that might have been left behind. She kicked at a pick of metal, some piece of the ceiling that had fallen maybe something was under it. There were crates left behind but no doubt they are empty, someone would have gone through the place before her and Asher. There was discarded cups now black with dust and grim, the remains of a droid that was missing its runners and top, and just the shell of it was all that she could see.

"I don't know anything about your plans", she said as she continued on looking for things, and if something was of interest she would pocket it. "But if you are looking for a place like this, you must be hiding something", she added a matter of factly. It was obvious wasn't it? If they had not had plans for something bigger they would not need a warehouse, they could just store whatever Asher and Abaigeal wanted there.

She bent and picked up something from the floor and looked it over, it appeared to be some sort of tool for opening crates. She would keep that, it might come in handy as a weapon in the vents if she was threatened. Pickles tucked it into her belt along with other stuff she deemed useful. After having done a full circle, Pickles stood in front of Asher once more.

"So what are you planning?", she placed her hands on her hips and looked up into his face, her head tilted to the side, watching is face intently to tell if he was lying or not.

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[member="Asher"]​

 

[Asher]

[member="Pickles"]

How did you tell a child that wasn’t a child about the situation that you were about to unleash upon most others on the level? Asher saw the need for their little revolution but it was also something he remained uncertain if it would work or not. Abaigeal would never find out about that one, but it was true. Dreyton had a point that they could just be running the risk of inviting worse neighbors, or change who they were, and naturally that didn’t strike Asher as something he quite wanted to do.

Even though they had established that they were alone he knelt down to get as close as possible before he lowered his voice.

“We are planning on taking out the Tears.” Asher said and looked around. “You might have heard that I shot one of their bosses on this level, Raese.”

“We need a warehouse that can stock guns, armor, and a few other things as we assemble a group to help with this. Essentially forming a highly armed gang to stand up to them.”

“Not sure if that means just the one warehouse either. Might be smarter to keep it in at least one more to ensure we don’t lose everything if this place should fall.” Asher said and looked around the warehouse. “If we decide to start using this place.”

 

[The Undertaker]

"That... that was you?!", she said with wide eyes and a sense of awe and pride all mixed in together. Pride because he had done something really good and killed a guy that was even more bad than any of his thugs, and in herself for knowing someone famous! But Asher was not a baddie for doing this like the news feeds would say, in fact he was a nice guy, the only person she trusted. "Who's idea was it to take out the Tears?", she grew a little suspicious and it showed on her face, was it Abaigeal's idea? was she leading Asher down a path he couldn't come back from, Pickles suddenly didn't like Abaigeal anymore if that was the case.

"You will need me", she suddenly said, more out of need to be with Asher to protect him and make sure he wouldn't get into trouble, or that Abaigeal was not getting him into trouble. "I can help".

Pickles did like the idea that the levels would be rid of them, they were getting nasty and pressuring everyone and even some of the vent rats were in their pockets. She really couldn't trust them anymore, some of them but she knew who was on the take, it was easy to tell they were growing fat and had good stuff even for a rat. She followed his eyes around the warehouse wondering what he was looking for.

"No one comes here", she added to ease his mind, "And there is always the old sewer tunnels, if you need another place". The old sewers had been abandoned long long ago, and not in use anymore due to a more modern technology. All the muck that they used to transport, gone, disintegrated to dust and even that was swept away with the levels micro-climate winds and rains. All that was left were the huge tunnels, not even the rats go there but she did, it was the only way to travel around 1313 and ... other levels.

There was only one catch... Corridor Ghouls. It was a perfect idea!

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[member="Asher"]​

 

[Asher]

[member="Pickles"]

“That was… Yeah.” Asher exhaled with the twitch of a grin on his lips. It had been a rash decision but one that inevitably snowballed a few things. “It was my idea. Abaigeal suggested we infiltrate them, but knowing how they operate I’d rather not turn into just another henchman who used to have some good intentions.”

“... Besides, I killed one of their top men. There’d be serious repercussions for that.”

Pickles suggested the sewers. Asher grimaced at the thought. Dirty, undesirable, but hidden and safe. The sewer was a good hiding spot but it was also a good place to get real sick, real fast should the surface decided to reinstate its use. As far as Asher aware, there were few people he could ever convince to guard something down there based on the fact that it was a sewer alone.

The ghouls? Not helping.

“As much as I want safety for what I am storing, I also want safety for who is protecting the merch, too.” Asher said and continued to walk around the warehouse. “No, I think this warehouse is a good start. We can always move equipment when another opportunity arises.”

His eyes set on the girl, a smirk spreading on his lips.

“You’re not transitioning from a vent rat to a sewer rat, are you, P?”

 

[The Undertaker]

She nodded her head in understanding his position on this whole matter, this plan of their's and more then ever she wanted in. The time had come for her to move on, onto something else other than just surviving and she hoped Asher would understand this too, surely he would better than most. Besides, he didn't say no to her wanting to help, that was a good start and step for her in a different direction.

Pickles lingered around the old crates, kicking at the debris left behind but watching him out of the corner of her eye. "You gone soft?", she suddenly asked, in his response to her suggestion to use the old sewers. It was actually a good idea and a safe place, safer even than these warehouses. "All this living with Abaigeal made you pudgy", she grinned walking over to poke his ribs. And he had got pudgy, put on weight after having the opportunity for regular meals. "Do you think she is pretty?", she looked at him with a curious gaze and a growing smirk.

But of course she referred to his dislike of the sewers, Asher of old would not have turned it down. He should know better than most that the old sewers are their own means that transport around the levels and no one goes there, and she doubted they would ever be operational again, it would cost too much and no one cared about the cleanliness of the lower levels. Not this far down.

"If I have to I will", she said with a matter of fact tone, but she did not relish the idea. "Before you say no to it, come with me and look for yourself".

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[member="Asher"]​

 

[Asher]

[member="Pickles"]

Soft was a relative term. While Asher had undoubtedly gone softer in shape since he partnered up with Abaigeal, that also didn’t really say much given the day-to-day for people down here. It was actually amazing what a healthy, stable diet of three meals per day could do for someone. Still, Pickles was warming up and he was not going to shoot her down. At least not until the kid asked if Asher thought his boss was pretty.

In truth…

“I mean,” He shrugged. “Of course. But that doesn’t mean anything, does it? Down here she is almost in a league of her own, given her…” Force what-nots. Not necessarily something that Asher should be sharing. “Talents and abilities. You know, uh… Contacts.”

Was better to pass it off as something else, should Pickles not have been aware.

“Look, the sewers are probably safe. Just…” Asher exhaled and shuffled in his stuff before he lowered his voice. “The Corridor Ghouls. I-...”

Would Asher admit to being afraid? Never.

“Do we want to take that risk?”

He saw the look on Pickles’ face and gave off a defeated sigh.

“Fine.” He said and stood up. “But, just… Holler if one of you see one of those… Things.”