Chapter Ten
Out of the corner of her eye, a crystalline blue caught Siri Tachi's attention and with a casual shopper's presence, she drifted from the straight line she had been walking over to a small booth covered with samples of mineral masses from all over the galaxy.
The instant her gaze had touched the blue stone her heart leapt and pounded and she struggled to keep control. Eyeing the slip of a dealer, she was careful not to allow the slightest physical manifestation of her excitement. Some beings, particularly suited to these kinds of bazaars were known to read changing bio signatures to help gage their customer's willingness to pay higher prices.
A variety of stones glittered, all demanding a little of her attention even as she fought to keep her focus from lingering too long on the blue stone toward the back of the display.
Instead, she drove her attention onto a garish gold stone that shimmered–even in the dim natural lighting–in such a way that it almost looked alive.
"That is lentin stone used by the Regl priests in their confirmation ceremonies. It's very rare," the shopkeeper's soft voice lilted through the air as the thin creature shifted, to better study his customer.
The blond haired Jedi did not answer the yellow skinned rock dealer but instead allowed her gaze to pass over the other examples of stones.
"I have every kind and if I don't have something that pleases you, I can find it. All you have to do is ask. The rarest stones in the galaxy are at your command." He finished with a flourish of his long hand.
Gloved fingers slid over the smooth form of a mirror black stone even as her gaze darted across the small table to the brilliant blue one that had brought her to that booth in the first place. From what she could see, it was covered in some sort of hardened muck. Pulling a glove free of a pale hand, she picked up one of the nearby stones and examined it closely. The polished surface slipped through her fingers and robbed her of a little more warmth. Placing it back upon the table she perused several other interesting finds. Careful not to draw too much attention to the one she really wanted.
"How much is that lentin stone?" she asked.
"Twenty-five daktiris."
"What about in Republic credits?"
"Eighteen."
"And the pink stone on the end?" She smiled, looking longingly at the white veined river rock. One of many thousands she had seen on Alderaan during one visit or another in the little stream that ran through the elegant Coesai Gardens in the capital city.
"I'll give it to you for thirty credits. It is a river stone from the Shrine of Apella from Mantob XI."
Liar.
"And this blue stone?" she casually pointed to the one that had possessed her attention before arriving at the booth.
"The one that matches your eyes?" the seller asked as he scooped it up and started to scrape the hardened shell off of it. "For a pretty thing like you? Eight credits. I can clean it up and drill a hole in it and make a necklace for you. It would look lovely."
"I am sure it would," she said adding a gentle smile, "but I would rather not have any holes drilled in it. It will look pretty on my shelf where I keep mementos." Siri calmly forked over the eight credits and the dealer quickly handed over the stone.
Holding the encrusted stone tight in her grip, she casually walked away. At a few paces from the booth, she slipped it into one of her utility belt pouches and replaced her glove.
A smug smile crossed her lightly colored lips. If the dealer had known that he had a lightsaber focusing crystal in his possession, she would not have had enough credits to even get a glimpse of it.
Maybe this trip wasn't such a complete waste after all.
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Chapter Eleven
"My memory is not so good," the Hrapa insisted as she sunk back into her padded chair and waved a long fingered hand before her face. Whatever concerns she initially possessed with her potential buyer had drifted away in light of an impending sale.
Obi-Wan picked up the training remote again. "How much?"
"Fifty daktiris."
"Fifteen Republic credits," he said in a quick but firm tone. At her nod, he handed over the credits and the dealer took her time counting and recounting them before placing the chips into a deep pocket on the outermost layer of her shabby clothing.
"Business is not so good," she said, glancing sadly about at her meager belongings. "Not since Y'Begaar came. All I do is sit and listen to many conversations. Never sell anything. So many interesting things I hear, I sometimes get things mixed up." She not so innocently grinned.
Sighing, the Jedi's pale blue gaze over the wares again that covered the dingy crescent shaped table. There was nothing worth the Hrapa's inflated prices but he knew he needed to buy something else in order to inspire her memory.
Then, at the back of the table, nearly hidden by a broken blaster rifle mount stood a tiny figurine. Quickly setting his first purchase to the side, pulling free one of his gloves and holding back the billowing sleeve of his cloak, Obi-Wan reached across the table and picked the simple figure up. The glossy lacquer that covered the wood reflected a golden sheen as he brought it close for examination.
He knew the curiosity and delight reflected his face gave the game away as he carefully examined the seven centimeter tall figure gently nestled in his large hand. At the same time, he did not care.
A tender smile drew across his lips as feathery lashes brushed over his cheeks. With closed eyes, he mentally thrilled at the small surprise.
Rising gracefully from the center of his battle-scarred hand was a tiny Mahari dancer. The lithe figure reached out in a beautiful pose.
During his life, he had seen a few of the figures in the possession of Jedi who greatly treasured the tiny Mahari representations of mischievous spirits.
The priests of the Mahar home world carved them from sacred woods to reflect the images of their gods dancing throughout their world. Jedi appreciated the tiny figurines because their dancing poses were reminiscent of various kata points.
Even the smallest of initiates could recognize the stance the figurine was in. It was familiar to one of the highest-level katas, the fiery bird. The dancer's sleek form flowing gracefully forward as if it were about to sprout wings and fly out of his hand.
He knew of only one Jedi that exemplified such a pose and that was Siri Tachi, as fiery as any star in the galaxy.
"How much?"
"That is rare and quite expensive," she crooned. "Three-hundred daktiris."
"Seventy-five Republic credits."
"One hundred and I tell you where your lightsaber is."
Glancing quickly about the booth, he found a group of colorful scarves hanging from a post in the back and grabbed a bright purple and gold one. Caring fingers gently wrapped the tiny dancer in the folds of gilded silk. "Throw the scarf in and you have a deal."
The Hrapa scowled, but then after a moment, relented. "Deal."