Star Wars_ Coruscant Nights II Streets of Shadows - Michael Reaves [66]
Eventually he ran out of things to say to her—except, of course, for the one thing he’d been dreading saying since she walked in the door. Despite having reached an agreement with his companions, now that the time had come to propound it, his Jedi training continued to resist.
She stared at him. “Was there something else, Jax?”
“No—yes.” Girding himself in every respect, he sat down beside her. “Dejah, I don’t want to do this. I’ve been trying to think of the best way to ask it of you, the least offensive way to make this request.”
Her eyelids fluttered, and her crimson skin was positively aflame. “I’m Zeltron, Jax. Whatever request you want to make, I’m sure I’ve heard it before.”
“Good. That makes it easier—” He broke off in shock at what the Force showed him behind those eyes. She’d chosen to reveal her thoughts, of that he was sure; no one with her psychic sensibilities could be read so easily.
He stood hastily. “That’s, uh, that’s not what I mean—at all.”
Her expression turned uncertain. “I don’t understand. Then what kind of request are you having trouble making?”
“What I’m trying to say, Dejah, is that we’re about out of funds, and if we’re going to continue to help you, I’m going to have to ask for—a retainer.”
There—he’d managed to get it out, though the request still sounded obscene to him. He looked away. I should have let Den do this, he told himself unhappily. Or Rhinann. Or even I-Five. Asking for money wouldn’t have bothered any of them in the least.
He felt ashamed to look at her, reluctant to use the Force to sense her feelings. How would she react? Would she be hurt? Insulted? Angry?
He forced himself to turn and face her—and saw that her right hand was unsealing her jeweled carry-bag. “How much do you need? Do you want cash, or a credit transfer?”
Relief left him momentarily weak in the knees. She was watching him with a coy smile that seemed to say, There now—that was easy enough, wasn’t it?
Less than an hour after he’d brought her up to date and she’d left, his colleagues rejoined him.
“How’d it go?” Den inquired anxiously. “Did she balk at the request?”
“Yes,” Rhinann wanted to know. “Do we eat well tonight?”
I-Five made a snorting sound with his vocabulator. “It’s always about food with you organics.”
Jax, affecting an air of complete and utter confidence, said, “I am happy to say that, thanks to the gracious and understanding Dejah Duare, we now have an open line of credit through the planetary banking system under two new assumed identities, either of which any of you can now freely access.”
Rhinann’s tusks quivered in gustatory anticipation. “I thank you, Jax. There is nothing worse than being a gourmet in a world of indiscriminate eaters.”
“Except having to listen to one,” Den said. “But seriously, Jax—good work.”
“Yes,” I-Five agreed. “It would have been enough to have secured a promise of token payment. But an unlimited line of credit—your efforts exceed my expectations. I may go so far as to indulge in a logic board tune-up.”
Basking in their praise, Jax noticed that compliments were lacking from one of the group. Having once again taken her seat at the work center, Laranth had resumed her equipment upgrading without a word.
He shrugged. He thought briefly about probing her feelings with the Force, but decided to respect her privacy. If the Paladin had a problem with him, his past experience with her guaranteed that she wouldn’t be reticent to let people know when she was ready.
Still, it did somewhat dampen the celebratory mood …
sixteen
“I’m looking for the Cragmoloid Boulad. I was told you might know where I could find him.”
The Green Nikto sitting in the ticket