"Fine wares!" screamed a merchant, one of a hundred voices shouting for the attention of the thousands of patrons meandering between the stalls. "I have fine wares here!"
"Fresh meat, shipped from off Centrallis at great expense!"
"You like greens? I have vegetables. I have fruits. I have yubatles."
"Yeah, Ithorian in the orange jumper. You eat grass, right? I have grass to sell."
"Hey you, Rodian!"
"Human, you have eyes. I have glasses. Make me an offer."
Thayla was still fuming after her argument with Jon and had to work hard to drown out the noise. The trading post was a lot to take in and a lot busier than Jon had made it seem.
Still, at least she wasn't just sitting on the ship anymore.
"You look like a woman who appreciates antiques."
Thayla turned to see a merchant staring at a woman to her left, but he quickly shifted focus after she walked away.
"Yes, I meant you. Have you ever heard of the city of Shilrakaen, to the south? A mysterious site outside of its former location has blessed me with an incredible amount of strange alien artifacts, from a species unknown."
"Show me."
Thayla followed the man inside his tent, which was lined with red and purple drapes. Polished silver shelves held racks of bits and bobbles, very few of which interested the Jedi.
"Very impressive."
"I know. It took a lot of money and a lot of personal risk to acquire some of these, so I hope you understand that I can't let them go for cheap." The merchant stuck his head outside the flaps of the tent. "Antique merchandise! Come on in!"
Most of it seemed to be junk, mostly old power coils, useless electronic tomes and used tibanna gas canisters, until Thayla came to a particular shelf in the back.
She recognized everything, two sets of robes, an ornate pillow, a box of dusty datapads and a staff.
Her jaw nearly dropped to the floor. She pulled the weapon from the top shelf and held it as if hugging an old friend.
It was three feet in length and grey with white trimmings. A small seam bisected it at its exact center. It was exactly fifteen pounds and four ounces. There was a scratch on the left side from when it accidentally flew out of her hands and struck a stone wall. There was a dent on the right side from when it flew out of her hands and struck Jon's head.
"Oh, that item isn't for sale."
"What?" cried Thayla, suddenly pulled from her daydream.
"A very wealthy merchant put in a bid for that staff. It's very important to him and a very big paycheck for me."
"How much is he paying you?"
"I'm not sure I can disclose that," the merchant told her, rubbing his neck. "But how much do you have?"
"I'll give you six hundred credits."
He scoffed. "Well, that's certainly-"
"Two thousand credits."
"Oh, well maybe..."
"Four thousand credits."
"That might be enough to cover my loss." His tone suddenly turned very somber. "However, to be honest I planned on giving a larger cut to my buyer. An unfortunate fire at his home recently destroyed all his possessions and took away his daughter."
"Oh, I'm so sorry. That's so tragic."
"It really is. I guess I'll take your four thousand credits, but he will be very sad that he is losing the staff."
"Well, how much did he lose in the fire?"
"Ma'am, you can't put a price on someone's family members."
"You're right. I'm so sorry. How about another three thousand for the buyer?"
"That might work. However, that staff once belonged to his daughter. I really can't overstate how devastated he will be to lose the one thing he has to remember her."
"Ok, I'll…" Suddenly, Thayla realized exactly what was going on. She reached out and struck the merchant in his stomach, just enough to knock the wind out of him and send him to his knees. "You liar!"
The merchant sputtered, trying to regain his breath.
"This staff is mine, you scruffy, cheating piece of Bantha fodder."
She started to head out of the tent, before heading back to the shelf, throwing all of the artifacts into a bin and walking away.
However, due to a few stray pangs of guilt, she did drop a thousand credits for him, just as he started to crawl to his feet.
"You like meat? I've got fried meats you've never even heard of! Have you ever had deep fried Gundark? How about Bantha? Heck, I've even got deep fried sand people. It's surprisingly high in fiber."
Jamie thought about running off to try whatever the food vendors were selling, even the mysterious animal they referred to as a 'cow', but a feeling deep down inside of her was killing any motivation to run and try something new.
"Does anything look interesting to you?"
"I don't know. I guess the jewelry guy we saw a few rows back was kinda neat."
"Is everything ok? You seem a little down."
"Dad, I'm fine."
"Ok, I was just asking."
The two of them walked in silence a bit longer, just letting the waves of people pass by and the screams of merchants go in one ear and out the other, before Jamie finally took her father's hand and asked him, "Are you dating Thayla?"
"What? Absolutely not," Jon insisted, suddenly very nervous.
Even amid the wash of people, Jamie could feel her father's feelings twisting and churning at that accusation. He had been teaching her to stretch out with her emotions from a very young age and unfortunately he was a very good teacher.
"Why are you lying?"
"I'm not… I swear I'm… Ok, come here."
He pulled her aside, moving through a few more rows of tents until they emerged into the dusty wasteland.
"Thayla is very special to me, but we are not dating."
He was adamant and firm, reassuring his daughter of what she needed to hear, but certain truths tend to boil to the surface when we become unbalanced. Certain things become easy to read.
"She's my mom?"
Jon sighed. "Yes, wookie. Thayla is your mother. We had you back when we were living in the temple and when the Mandalorians came everyone scattered. I wanted to tell you sooner, but there just never seemed to be a good time."
"Is she nice?"
"Oh, yeah of course. She's the sweetest person on earth."
"Is she weird?"
"A little. She took the Jedi Code to heart more than I did, but she means well."
"Ok, I always wanted to meet my mom. At least I don't have to hear your excuse anymore."
"What excuse?"
"Oh, my little wookie," Jamie said, pantomiming the most incredible grief. "Your mother is not what defines you. She can be whoever you want her to be or she can be nothing, but always remember that I love you and that you are a special flower whom any mother would be proud to have. Also, stay away from boys."
Jon crossed his arms and huffed. "I don't sound like that."
His daughter just smiled and hugged him, excited to get to know her real mom but a little disappointed that it had turned out to be a straight-laced monk who wore a gunny sack for clothing.
"I'll figure out a way to be ok with it."
"There's your slice of thorax, sir. Next!"
Teller stepped up to the counter, which was really just a wooden plank lying across two barrels. A human with a thick beard stood ready to take his order, while two Devaronians handled the food behind him. One worked the rotisserie, powered by long gas and electricity cables running from a dilapidated ship, while the other was actively cutting thick slabs of meat into manageable portions.
"Kid, stare later. Order now."
"Right, just a piece of grilled bantha."
The cook pulled a hunk off of the spit and stuck it with a wooden skewer. "Eighteen credits."
Teller handed him twenty. "Keep the change."
"Thank you, kind sir. Now I can afford that house I've had my eyes on. Next!"
Teller grabbed his food and walked off, tearing into it half out of anger and half out of actual hunger.
He headed away from the line of merchants and headed for the open ground where a horde of speeders and ships were parked.
He watched the mechanics run back and forth between the ships, along with a few peddlers with pocketfuls of merchandise, some very seedy characters and a few guards posted outside ships with presumably valuable cargo.
"Name?" asked a sudden voice. Teller nearly dropped his food. "I haven't got all day. Name?"
"Um, we registered over on the far side," he told the old man in the booth. "I came off the mining ship."
"Half the ships are mining ships, kid."
"Sorry, I was just looking around," he said, before noticing that the man's eyes weren't following him. "Do I know you?"
"We've met before. Does that count as knowing me?"
"You worked in the basement of the factory in Davn, at the company store," Teller shouted. "What are you doing out here?"
"Some of us have jobs to support ourselves, kid. Maybe you should try it sometime."
"Do you remember me?"
"Yes, the kid with the dead family."
"... Yeah, that's me."
"A lot of us have dead parents, kid. It happens."
"OK, well how did you get out here?"
"How did you get out here?"
"On a speeder."
"Is it impossible that I came the same way?"
"I guess not, but it just seems-"
"Name?"
"What?"
"Not you." The blind man pointed to a small group walking towards the booth. "I hear six sets of footsteps. If I'm wrong, correct me now."
The old geezer turned his attention fully towards what was in front of him, and Teller walked away feeling intrigued and confused.
He took a stroll through the merchant stalls but didn't really find anything to his liking. Besides, he wasn't sure of what his living situation would be once he reached Nordic, so building up a stockpile of knickknacks seemed like a bad idea.
However, Thayla had apparently not had the same restraint.
"Did you buy all this?" asked Jon, standing outside the speeder with a box of datapads.
"It wasn't me. Jamie, did you go on a shopping spree when he wasn't looking?"
"If I had, I wouldn't have bought datapads."
Jon turned the crank on the outside of the main hatch and it began to slowly descend.
"Have you guys seen Thayla?"
"No, she ran off as soon as we parked. I hope she isn't still mad at me."
"I'm doing better than ever," Thayla told them, striding down the ramp in a proper set of brown Jedi garments, rather than the rough and simple tunic she had worn before. An ornate staff was slung across her back with a leather strap and a freshly cleaned robe was hanging next to her bunk.
"That's an improvement," Teller said, but Jon was simply unable to form words.
"They need let out in some places and taken in a bit in others, but they'll do fine. I also have a set in black." She reached for the box and handed one of the datapads to Teller. "These are the same texts that I learned from. I think you should start perusing this one, before our next lesson starts, tomorrow."
"Yes, boss," Teller said, before heading up the ramp.
"Is something wrong?" she asked Jon, after watching him try desperately to pick his jaw up off the floor.
"No, I… You look good."
"Thank you. I feel good." Without another word, she headed back into the ship.
Jamie and Jon both intently watched her walk away, and as the young girl looked up at the full-fledged Jedi walk with a sacred weapon slung over her shoulder, she turned to her father and said, "I'm ok with it now."