She is in a metal box. A funny smell is coming from somewhere- Sweat, mold, pollution, cleaning agents. Pale, flickering light emerges from strips in the ceiling. A fan is humming and the distant murmur of conversation fills the air.

Brightly colored advertisements and packaging fail to cover up their own fading and the worn-down floors, shelves, and walls. Signs on sparsely stocked shelves indicate prices. Nutrifruit: 12 Tokens. 750ml Water Ration: 30 tokens. Galaxy Blend Nutrient Drink: 25 Tokens. Pilk - Processed Sweetened Milk - 16 Tokens.

An elderly shopper is comparing two identical looking boxes of 'Peat - 100% Real Meat' and doesn't notice her. A deeply bored looking man sits behind a counter near the front. He blinks and double takes at her from across the room.

Sweat is one thing but mould? Pollution? No, the air can smell like pine forests and violets, thank you. It's a very frivolous use of magic but that's why she's not an adventurer, thank you. 

That's a lot of metal. Some kind of wizarding chamber, possibly! The magic lights are weird but potentially fit. That explains the flickering, too, if they're some kind of ritual source...

Anyway: humans! Extraplanar humans!

"Hello! I'm Naevys! What plane is this, if you don't mind me asking?"

The front counter guy waves her closer. "Uh, this is level fifty five, ma'am. Republic commissary. Do you need anything?"

She'll go closer! She doesn't look much like a human and she certainly doesn't move like one.

"Fifty-five levels? That's quite a lot! And yes, thank you! Can you tell me about the Republic? And your universe?"

"-Huh? Erm... You mean like, the whole universe? The Republic runs this station. You know, security department, service department, medical and supply and command and engineering?"

"Yes! What's it like? Do you mind if I take notes? This wasn't supposed to happen but I'm so glad it did! Where is the 'station' and why does the Republic run it? Are humans here the same as - I mean, what are humans here like? ...Wait, is everywhere like this? Made out of metal and so on?"

Blink blink. "It's a station? I keep forgetting the official name of the Republic, it's just the - it's the republic, the government of this part of the belt. Is everything made out of metal, yes, pretty much? The Republic runs it because it's the government. Humans are... Humans? Ma'am - are you injured anywhere? Did you hit your head, perhaps? Would you like me to call someone from Medical?"

"From medical? Do you not have any clerics -" are they necromancers or something or maybe just herbalists with dangerous ideas? She casually folds her hands into her robes and grips her wand. "I mean, I'm fine! I come from a different plane, that's all! How do you govern a belt?" She's not going to ask Whose belt, in case she gets an answer. 

What even is this conversation. She seems scared? And like she's the bioengineered scion of some kind of ultra-rich family. He opens his mouth. Closes it again. Thinks.

"...It's the asteroid belt of the solar system 'New Worf-Picard'. We are in outer space. This is a station, an enormous wheel of metal that is very slowly spinning and where lots of people live and work. Do you remember how you got here? I should maybe call the nice folks at Security. They'll keep you safe and figure out what happened, help you get home."

And it won't be HIS FAULT when someone richer than all of deck 55 is worth gets shived in a back-alley compartment.

"Oh! Thank you, that's so kind of you!" Wow, random humans are surprisingly nice around here. ...Maybe there's something off about that, but. "But I know exactly how I got here, I was on my home plane doing some Spell research that went both surprisingly well and surprisingly badly. And I'd rather stay and explore! I'm not totally confident in my translation magic here, you don't mean 'outer space' and 'asteroid belt' as in - among the stars? Do you? Do you?"

"-Ma'am if you're someone important and you get hurt, there'll be lots of trouble. Please, if you don't mind, be considerate of us here on the lower decks and don't attract that trouble here. Yes. We are on an object that is in orbit of a star, not on the surface of a planet."

"Oh! I'm sorry, I had no idea - I'll be careful! What could hurt me?" She isn't in fact completely naive, she's keeping an eye out - she can Dimension Door away from an attacking monster very fast. "I don't know how I'm attracting trouble now!"

"You look... Rich. Like a lost tourist. With those ears and how you're moving- Custom bio treatment of some kind. That's the sign of someone whose associates are in power and will do a lot of things if they become displeased. That's the kind of trouble I mean. Station Security, or hell, Command coming down here and, I don't even know. So, what could hurt you? People. Desperate people, ambitious people. The water, anywhere with free water is... Shit. I wouldn't drink it. Scams. Muggers. Drugs."

What the-

"...I'm an elf - I suppose 'lost tourist', all right, maybe, but... why would Command want to hurt you for that- why isn't water free?" Water falls out of the sky! ...Not among the stars, maybe. "And-" she's uncomfortably aware that she's never actually been in a human settlement, the Academy doesn't count - "Bandits, all right, but...why... would all those other people want to hurt me?"

"Someone has to pay the water recycling plants and the ice miners... Because the lower levels suck, alright? There's not enough money, food, water, supplies, to go around. If you leave something unattended, it'll probably get stolen. The difference between a bum and a mugger is nine missed meals."

He grimaces. He's keenly aware of the shotgun underneath the counter, right now. And the 'call security' button that he really should have pressed by now.

Oh no. She thought people were exaggerating about humans in heathen lands. Humans do that a lot, you should hear what they say about elves. (Elves don't steal babies! Elves don't want your babies! They scream and hit things! Most of the reason Naevys likes humans is that they mostly grow up and stop that which is impressive from that starting point!)

"How do you have wizardry powerful enough to go to the stars but not give people food? It grows on trees! It's not that hard! ...I'm so sorry, I'm sure none of this was your idea and I shouldn't have yelled, can I please talk to whoever is in charge?"

His heart is pounding.

He's just a commissary clerk. It's an astoundingly boring job. It's an incredibly lucky position to be in. Steady work. Government employee. He's paid in Food Stamps and Credits every day without fail, and has five days off a year, paid.

He should be loyal to the Republic. If his boss knew about this, if Security or Command did, they'd obviously want her to go to them. 

And he has a business card. Given by a man who spoke his name and purpose with pride. Mr. Wild. The King of the lower decks. 'It's an ecosystem down here, kid. Dump shit on others, and eventually it'll come back to you.'

...When he was eight, the Republic medical department refused his mother entry, calling her 'a drug-seeking addict'. It was... True. She was an addict, and was seeking drugs. But not out of any moral failing, he thinks. Out of desperate tired stress trying to provide for him, expensive High Quality Water and vitamin pills... One dose of dream dust to take the edge off. Then two to smooth out the day and keep going. Then...

Mr. Wild got her an OxyGone injection, free of charge. Anti-withdrawal drugs. And gave him six Nutrifruits. One each per day for three days. She lives in his government-provided housing now. On a sleeping mat on the floor. Working at a water treatment plant.

"I'm not sure that's a good idea," he says, eventually. "The station officials, I mean. I think you should talk to Mr. Wild instead. He has the interests of the Lower Decks first in his heart."

"All right! Thank you, where does he live?"

This is getting better! Maybe she can find out more about how this plane really works. She has so many questions and it doesn't seem like she's going to get more answers around here! It seems fairly safe so far, the environment itself isn't trying to kill her. ...She should have made sure she had Banishment or something before she came here, just in case. 

"...Do you have enough water? Are you going to die of thirst or something before I get back?"

"I'm good, ma'am. I get Water Rations. Just a moment, I'll call him."

He has to dig out the business card, but there it is. 7783.

He picks up the handset and dials.

"...Yes, hello. I'm, um, Okheshi Nara, I work at deck 55 commissary..."

...

"Yes. There's someone here who, uh. I don't know how to explain. I'm very sure Mr. Wild will want to meet her."

...

"Not... If nothing provokes her I think? She's, um. Either an alien of some kind or crazy. I know. I know. Yes. Just- One second please! Thank you. She is unusually beautiful and has pointed ears and moves strangely. Not like an Aug. Ye- I can put her on?"

"Would you like to talk to Mr. Wild's secretary?"

"...Yes please!"

That doesn't look a lot like a secretary, but all right!

"...Hello? Can you tell me where Mr Wild lives, please?"

"Hello," the handset says, "I think we should talk first. I might send someone to guide you to Mr. Wild's office once I understand what is going on a bit more. So. What's going on?"

"All right! I'm a visitor from another plane and I just have some questions. Okheshi here told me I should talk to Mr Wild about them. Apparently you don't have enough food or water or something?"

"Many people in the Lower Decks don't have enough food or water. Or rather, the supply is limited enough and the demand high enough that it makes those things expensive- Though I will note that unsafe water is essentially free. It's purified, safe water that's expensive. When you say 'another plane*', could you expand on that a bit please? Mr. Okheshi seemed concerned that your appearance or mannerisms are unusual, which is understandable if you are foreign..."

*The phrase it's translating to here is something like 'alternate dimension' more than 'alternate universe'

"That's actually a fascinating question! The nature of the planes is very poorly understood! The simplest answer is that they're places that can't be reached just by walking there, although that's not always true! There are some that seem to exist as different states of being or states of mind, some that seem universal and some that aren't - oh, I'm sorry, I just find this topic very interesting! Planes are - other worlds, other universes."

"I presume you mean places that can't be reached by flying there either? Not other starsystems, but 'realms of thought and matter unseen'? -Er. Hm. What Mr. Wild does, ma'am, is... Offer connections. Mr. Wild acts as a broker and an agent. He knows a lot of people, and is able to connect those who need things to each other. A mercenary to those who need guarding. A wine-maker to someone looking to purchase and resell wines. Pharmacists and doctors to reliable suppliers of medicine. If you are new to the Lower Decks..." And able to significantly alarm a kid marked down as Category 4 - Peripheral Acquaintance/Intelligence Asset, "-I believe he would enjoy meeting you and finding out what you need and what you might be able to provide. Does that sound good to you?"