Star Wars_ Coruscant Nights II Streets of Shadows - Michael Reaves [64]
Jax paused in his work, thinking. He’d attempted to learn more about his father’s mysterious end on his own, but he was at best a journeyman slicer, and digging for data that old required far more skill than he possessed. Come to think of it, though, someone with the requisite skill was no farther than the other side of the room.
As if telepathically alerted, Rhinann bestirred himself long enough to check his chrono. “Your lady friend is late.”
Pushing the magnifier up on his forehead, Jax replied, “She’s not my lady friend. And I’m sure she has a good reason for being late. At any rate, it’s not our business.”
“She’s a Zeltron. They’re not known for dependability.” The Elomin closed his eyes again.
The exchange had been loud enough to draw Den’s interest. The Sullustan lifted the priviewer up over his head and set it aside. “It should be at least partly our business, Jax,” he said. Pulling from his pocket a finger-sized unitary, he unfolded its screen with a flick of his wrist. “You want to know why? Take a look at our credit balance.”
“I doubt that organic vision is capable of resolving so tiny a figure,” I-Five said.
Jax gave him a look of displeasure, then turned back to the Sullustan. “How bad is it, Den?”
“Well, it’s not a crisis. We have enough in the account to eat tomorrow. The day after that …”
“I see no problem, then. For me,” the droid said.
“We’ll have to move, too,” Den added.
“I see.” Pulling off the magnifier, Jax set it on the work center. “What will we be able to afford?”
The Sullustan studied the readout on the unitary. “I think there’s a public park over in Sector Nineteen.”
“I didn’t realize it was that bad.”
“It’s not,” Den assured him as he collapsed the screen and pocketed the unitary. “It’s worse.”
“Why didn’t someone tell me before?”
“Someone tried,” Den told him. “Several times. You kept telling me or Rhinann that the Force would provide. Well, now would be a good time to crank it up.”
“We could sell the Far Ranger,” Laranth suggested.
Both Den and Rhinann glared at her. “No way,” the Sullustan said. “That ship’s our only chance to get off this rock. Which I’m still hoping will happen once you two idealists decide to get practical. Because if you don’t, we may wind up living in it.”
“If I may be allowed to venture a suggestion …?” I-Five said.
“Since when have you ever asked permission?” Laranth put aside the blaster she had been working on and started on its mate.
“Dejah Duare,” the droid continued, “is the sole beneficiary of a well-known, well-respected, and, most importantly, well-recompensed deceased artist.” His photoreceptors focused on Jax. “I see no reason why if, prior to her departure, she still wishes us to continue our efforts to locate Volette’s killer, that we should not be paid for them.”
“Hear, hear,” Laranth murmured while checking the emitter of her second blaster.
“A capital suggestion, in both senses of the word,” added Rhinann.
“Works for me,” Den said.
Jax was horrified. “I can’t do that. As a Jedi I’m sworn to help those in need and to assist those who request my aid. I can’t charge for it. Especially not someone in a disturbed emotional state. It’s not ethical.” He spread his arms. “In fact, it’s one step short of bounty hunting. I’d feel like a mercenary again. I swore I’d never again sink that low.”
Den had to kick out with both legs to get off the couch, which had been designed to accommodate much taller species. Approaching Jax, he waved a stubby finger at the reluctant Jedi.
“You do the work, and let the rest of us worry about the metaphysical fallout.” Evidently Jax’s conflict was plain to see, because Den added, not unkindly, “It’s not that we’re asking you to go against any deeply felt personal beliefs, Jax—”
“Yes it is,” I-Five said without hesitation.
Den glared at his mechanical friend. “It