"Five hundred credits, my friend," the Quarren said.
"That is a lot of credits. And I am no friend of yours."
"How rude. You know, I find humans to be an exceedingly rude species."
I made no reply to that.
"Consider your future, youngling. Surely it is worth much more than five hundred credits."
"Perhaps," I said, running my hands over the shiny medallion. "And you are certain this will pass muster?"
"Without a doubt!" He chuckled, or, at least, I think that is what he did, for his mouth widened and the tentacles framing his face bgan to wiggle . "Why, consider what the Sith would do if they found out I was peddling academy medallions. Your success is my success, human."
He was, of course, lying. No Sith would be fooled by the trinkets he was off-loading on the hopefuls that arrived at Korriban by the shipload. A Sith medallion guaranteed admission to the academy. It could be obtained either from one of the Sith instructors when they ventured into Dreshdae, or by force from someone else. Looking at the obvious fake before me, I reflected that if I told any of the academy's instructors that this was obtained by killing a fellow student, they would laugh in my face. And then they would cut me down where I stood. And as for this small-time crook, he'd likely be off-planet long before anyone came looking for him.
"Five hundred is a lot," I said again.
"Is your future worth so little, little humanling?"
"You acquired this trinket for a small fraction of the price."
"Ah, but there are so many to take a cut of the profits!"
"Lots of middlemen between here and the academy gates?" I gestured in the direction of the academy, which stood only a few minutes journey away from the cantina where we negotiated.
"Sure." The Quarren's tentacles went flying round his face again. I think this might have passed for a smile in his species. "The owner of this cantina, for example. I peddle my wares here at his pleasure."
The two of us went on in this vein for quite a while, as if we were passing a ball back-and-forth in some game in front of an arena of spectators. The words we exchanged might seem like a waste of time, but they were a way to signal our resolve over the price. In the end, I wore him down and he parted with the medallion for fifty credits. It was not a bad deal for either of us, given that he likely paid a craftsman no more than five credits for it.
My parents had given me a solid sum of money when I left home. They had no doubts that I'd be admitted to the academy. They knew Jedi discourage contacts with families, so that they expected I would not be able to contact them for some years; the funds they gave me were for a decade of petty spending. But between the travel expenses, the bribes, and now this patently useless fake, I was burning through it all fairly quickly.
But there was little to be done about it. As I learned from my father, who had a reputation for being shrewd in matters of business, sometimes you had to spend money to make money. And so, taking inventory of all I had, I straightened my shoulders, lifted my chin, and went to present myself to the Sith overseer at the academy gates.