Lobsang has been a fixture of Jedha City's underground market for more years than he usually cares to remember, and the Empire's tried to put him out of business more times than he could ever forget. Yet in all his years he can't recall having ever had a customer quite like this before.
"And what can I do for a Guardian of the Whills today?" he asks, genuinely curious.
"Nothing," the Guardian says shortly.
"Then if you would be so kind as to vacate my shop and make some space for the paying customers?" Lobsang doesn't want trouble, and the big, glowering Guardian might as well have "trouble" in bright hololights over his head.
"You can't do anything for a Guardian of the Whills because I'm not a Guardian of the Whills anymore. I didn't say I wasn't a paying customer."
"Ah. I see." Curiouser and curiouser. Lobsang might not want trouble, but he also needs credits, and credits are awfully hard to come by these days for unlicensed arms dealers like Lobsang. "How may I help you?"
The Guardian—or ex-Guardian, rather—takes out the barrel of a repeating cannon from underneath his cloak and places it on the counter. He's such a large man Lobsang hadn't even noticed that he was carrying it. "Can you fix it?" he asks. "I want to be able to use it."
Lobsang's brows rise. You wouldn't ordinarily expect a Guardian of the Whills to be wielding weapons more technologically advanced than a quarterstaff. But then, he said he wasn't a Guardian anymore, didn't he? "Well, sure, but it's meant to be vehicle-mounted. I'd need to see the vehicle in question…"
The ex-Guardian glowers harder. "No vehicle. Only me."
"Umm, okay." Lobsang considers. Hmm. The cannon's obviously broken, and it's missing the galven circuitry and a refrigerant tank. Although he doesn't have the parts on hand, he's confident he can get them. And then what? Would it be possible for the ex-Guardian to wear the necessary parts on his person? He looks strong enough, Lobsang supposes. Still, it'd be a complicated job, and complications come with built-in costs…
As if reading his mind, the ex-Guardian adds a large kyber crystal to the counter. "Will this be sufficient?"
Lobsang's eyes widen. More than sufficient, actually—the sale should cover a month's worth of expenses. "It'll take time to source the parts, and you'll need to come in for fittings before I can finish the refurbishment," he cautions.
"I've got plenty of time. I've also got someone I need to protect."
"I see." This weapon will be both very deadly and very illegal when finished. One last chance to back down and refuse to help. Lobsang decides not to. "Well, my good sir, I do believe this could be the beginning of a beautiful business arrangement."
They shake on it. When the ex-Guardian bares his teeth in a predatory smile, Lobsang mirrors that smile.
END