Star Wars_ Coruscant Nights II Streets of Shadows - Michael Reaves [54]
“Hey, watch it, floob!”
The massive male Herglic who had nearly stepped on Den hastened to shift to one side. With a contrite hauum, he gestured his apology. He could easily have crushed the irritated Sullustan with one step, but Herglic tended, as a species, to be embarrassed by their size, which was why Den had felt secure in being rude. Had the near collision been with the pair of supple Cantrosians following immediately behind the Herglic, he would have been less blunt. A quick swipe of one of their paws could have left him with a bad case of Cantrosian-scratch fever.
He sighed and looked at his MTA list again, electronically checking off several more items. Personally, he thought, I think we’ve done pretty good to have gotten all that we have. Especially considering the limitations on time and funds. Between his efforts and the stuff Rhinann had assembled during his earlier quest, Jax should have enough now to at least get started. Den had to admit that, intolerable as the Elomin’s company could often prove, the tusk-crowned humanoid knew his business.
Moving from shop to shop, from contact to contact, he somehow managed to come up with part after part at prices they could afford. But the light-saber’s key component—the CEC—continued to elude him.
“I’m not done yet,” he muttered. There were still a few places deep within the market’s center that he intended to try.
Though it seemed impossible, the crowds actually grew denser as he worked his way ever deeper into the seething, frenetic complex. Typical of any such market, Den knew, but in one the size of Ploughtekal the constant crush could grow wearying, if not actually dangerous, especially for someone whose kind ranked at the lower end of the humanoid size scale. On the other hand, his comparatively diminutive height allowed him to squeeze into places that the representatives of bulkier species could not access. Unfortunately, none of these booths had anything even faintly resembling a CEC for sale. At last he was ready to admit defeat.
With what we’ve managed to acquire and with what he’s already got, Jax can assemble a lightsaber, he thought as he made his way toward the eastern borders of the great market. It just won’t work. The Sullustan’s step was plodding as he neared a marketplace exit. He was worn out from being pushed around or ignored by larger, clumsier beings. Oh well—if he makes it heavy enough, he can always throw it at people.
Just as he was about to exit, however, a flash of something caught his eye. He turned and beheld a kiosk that sold, among many other illegal things, replicas of sector police badges. Den stopped and looked at them thoughtfully. He’d seen phony ID before, and he had to admit the quality of these was quite good. The rank, picture, and shield number seemed to float, crisp and clear, a few millimeters above the badge itself.
The kiosk’s owner, an old and rheumy Toydarian, noticed his interest. Rummaging around beneath the counter, he brought forth another badge, the picture ID of which was a Sullustan. With a grin he held it up. “Eh? Eh? Perfect likeness, is it not? Only four credits—a bargain!”
It wasn’t a perfect likeness, as Den could plainly see. The person in the holo had thinner ears and lips; also, his skin was somewhat lighter in tone. But he also knew that such subtle differences didn’t matter to anyone except another Sullustan. To most sentients, representatives from any species other than their own were all but impossible to tell apart.
Abruptly, he reached for his pocketbook. He had an idea …
The teeming surface of Imperial Center was dotted with innumerable buildings that had been designed primarily to impress. For example, what made the Orvum Stadium unique was not its capability to seat hundreds